This chapter critically examines the history of Singapore’s policing system, and argues that while Singapore may be seen as an authoritarian state, its system of policing – save for the existence of preventive detention laws – is largely democratic. During the colonial period, the police force was always short of money and policemen poorly paid, inept, and corrupt. Notwithstanding various reforms, the colonial police were unable to deal with the secret societies – the biggest threat to public order and safety – and relied on a mix of welfare, cooperation, and selective coercion. It was only after Singapore’s independence that local politicians introduced draconian preventive detention laws that succeeded in breaking the backs of the secret societies. Even so, the state did not rely only on these laws to police the population but also invested heavily in strengthening and boosting the police force, reforming it towards a more community-oriented form of policing.

This chapter explores the contrast between Taiwan’s Sunflower Movement and Hong Kong’s Umbrella Movement as a natural experiment in comparative policing. I look at the different roles played by police within the larger historical dynamics of these two events. My goal is to distinguish the democratic qualities of Taiwanese policing from the more authoritarian qualities evident in Hong Kong. I develop a theoretical framework for analyzing this distinction by combining Peter Manning’s idea of police dramaturgy with Victor Turner’s theory of social dramas and Carl von Clausewitz’ approach to violent politics. This perspective, I argue, helps illuminate how the democratic qualities of police action in response to unsettling events can influence the longer historical/structural patterns linking what comes after to what went before.

Political democratization does not necessarily lead to democratic policing; rather, authoritarian legacy always poses a challenge for the integration between democracy and coercive policing. This chapter presents a case study of Taiwan to unveil such authoritarian legacy. After its democratization in the late 1980s, Taiwan has been gradually transformed its authoritarian policing into democratic policing subject to judicial review. However, as Taiwan’s peaceful democratic transition did not come with radical political changes, authoritarian legacy persists and continues to affect policing practices. Nonetheless, throughout both authoritarian and democratic periods, the police in Taiwan have obtained strong legitimacy and been perceived as one of the most trustworthy government agencies. As such, questions to explore in this chapter include: Why has authoritarian policing been this adaptive in Taiwan? How has the coexistence between authoritarian legacy and liberal democracy been made possible? What are the impacts on democratic governance and efficacy of legal reforms?

It has been long recognised that there is an over-representation of those with severe mental illness (SMI) interacting with the Criminal Justice System (CJS). Consequently, those who work with people with SMI are likely at some stage to find themselves interacting with and receiving requests to share information by different authorities to inform the justice process (before, during and after) as well as to facilitate multi-agency risk management structures in the community. In this chapter we briefly review the policy context and development of Liaison and Diversion systems within England and Wales for both adults and young people. Following the pathway of a mentally disordered offender being arrested by the police, we describe the medico-legal frameworks whereby mentally disordered and increased-risk offenders can be dealt with by the courts and managed in the community. We also consider the particular differences that pertain when the individual is a child or young person (CYP), and broader fora wherein information sharing occurs for the purpose of public protection in the community context, especially within MAPPA and PREVENT panels. We also note the use of the National Referral Mechanism.

This chapter illustrates the disputes around the revolution frame discussed in Chapter 6 and the impact of these contests. Supplemented by interviews with government officials, police officers, soldiers, and other ex-combatants, this chapter examines the long-term effects of government framing strategies that demonize rebel actors who may later become political figures. In particular, this chapter looks at how the “narco-terrorist” framing utilizes women guerrillas in particular to discredit the FARC and ELN and positions the government as the savior for these women. But upon demobilization, decades of stigmatization from these framing contests mean that ex-combatant are in constant fear of being discovered and have to hide their pasts. Indeed, many of them have lost homes and jobs once “outed” as former rebels.

The eighteenth century saw a series of reforms in judicial structures and practices, including the creation of the Acordada and the division of the capital city into cuarteles. These reforms may have contributed to more draconian approaches to justice in New Spain, as evidenced by an increasing number of corporal punishment sentences in the late 1780s and a peak in executions in 1790. This year also represents a watershed in the history of the Novohispanic judiciary due to the creation of Mexico’s first salaried corps of nightwatchmen. Arguably, the shock of the Dongo massacre motivated Revillagigedo to create this new institution.

This conclusion ranges across time, but focuses on the theme of death as carried out as a state-sanctioned public spectacle in one space – the Sacred Precinct/Plaza Mayor/Zócalo of Mexico City. The association between Mexico and death grows steadily with images seen in popular culture and the ever-increasing interest in the Day of the Dead – to the point that Posada-style calavera makeup has become a tired cliché like so many other Halloween costumes. This book has attempted to analyze death in Mexico to juxtapose criminalized murders with ceremonial killing rituals.

In early 1959, Kanyama Chiume escaped arrest during the Nyasaland Emergency. Chapter 4 follows him in his period of exile, focusing on two pamphlets he wrote in London. These pamphlets provide a way to assess the limits of the newly internationalised global anticolonial world of the late 1950s for this regional-generational cohort. These activists honed their vision of publicity and of the party publicity officer by drawing on the regional specificities of the late colonial state in East and Central Africa. Gender and form were of critical importance to this vision. This cohort joined the conversation around colonial violence in the context of the Algerian War of Independence, discussing ideas about permits, police and imprisonment in and beyond the region, in correspondence, conferences and publications. Charting the development of their ideas about totalitarianism at this apparent turning point helps to explain why the UN was largely out of reach, why activists continued to formulate their critiques in terms that echoed the early 1950s and why they increasingly doubted the efficacy and legitimacy of world public opinion.

Chapter 3 provides a concise history of Guatemala’s and Nicaragua’s highly divergent conflict dynamics, but also illustrates how similarly narrow and insulated counterinsurgent coalitions emerged. The chapter first describes the road to armed conflict in both countries. It then examines the variables central to the process of wartime institutional change: the perceived escalation of the insurgent threat and the creation of a narrow counterinsurgent elite coalition with heightened decision-making discretion. It chronicles two moments in the Guatemalan armed conflict (the late-1960s and mid-1970s) and one moment in Nicaragua’s Contra War (early to mid-1980s) in which state leaders perceived a marked increase in the threat posed by insurgent forces. Finally, it examines how this sense of state vulnerability reconfigured wartime structures of political power in both cases as state leaders sought to combat the mounting insurgent threat.

Chapter 9 chronicles the postwar trajectory of extrajudicial killings within the Guatemalan police. It first examines state violence during the transition period and subsequent postwar police reforms, which included the creation of the new National Civilian Police (PNC) in 1997. The chapter then analyzes how the dominant wartime distributional coalition managed to survive peacebuilding reforms and uphold the undermining rules governing extrajudicial executions to eliminate “undesirables.” In an important contrast from the case of Guatemala’s customs administration, the PNC saw the direct reentry of these groups into the upper echelons of the security cabinet, highlighting a different pathway of institutional persistence.

Zimbabwe’s longest election season span from the February 2000 referendum to the 2002 presidential election. In 2002, voters became wary and weary of violent elections. Politically motivated violence continued as Mugabe and Tsvangirai had their moment of reckoning as to who should be president of Zimbabwe. Over time, Mugabe become ever more dependent on violence and dictatorial methods, and less and less interested in the welfare of his people, treating Zimbabwe’s wealth and resources as rewards for loyal Zanu PF supporters, boasting that there was no vacancy at State House. A closer study of the incidence of election violence shows voter resilience amidst cyclical bouts of state-sponsored udlakela. Voter resilience in the ruling party and opposition showed the potential and capability of the electorate to recover from crises and shocks. Zimbabwe voter resilience revealed that no matter the number of violent disturbances Zimbabweans absorbed over time, they remained within a relatively similar political state domain without imploding. Voters in Zimbabwe were remarkably resilient, displaying abilities of self-organization under extreme periodic election stresses. They built capacity and adaptation in the face of election adversities without resorting to civil war.

We are living in times of deep turmoil and rapid change. Over the past few decades, inequality has increased within and between countries.1 Simultaneously, new developments in digital technology have spread throughout the world, reconfiguring power relations and the rhythms of everyday life. Transnational technology corporations and powerful nation states have been the primary beneficiaries of the digital revolution, and their domination of digital technology concentrates power and wealth into their hands. The United States dominates the global tech economy, an evolution of American empire.2 Computers, wired together across the Internet, have drastically expanded the capacity to spy on and assess individuals, groups, and populations.

Chapter 7 lays the foundations for the second half of the book, which focuses on the question of institutional persistence within and beyond conflict. It chronicles the road to political transition and peace in both Guatemala and Nicaragua. The chapter then examines a key difference between the two settings: the coalitional configurations that emerged from war. It provides an in-depth examination of how these dynamics played out within the three institution-level cases examined in the previous chapters. Specifically, it illustrates how the Moreno Network and Detective Corps in Guatemala laid the foundations of institutional survival by broadening the distributional coalition—the web of interest groups with a stake in the fraudulent customs arrangements and extrajudicial killing, respectively. Meanwhile, the FSLN’s transformation into the political opposition in Nicaragua following its 1990 electoral defeat resulted in persistent coalitional volatility, which bred chronic instability within postwar institutions.

Chapter 5 examines the wartime origins of undermining rules governing extrajudicial killing by Guatemala’s National Police (PN). It argues that the development of such procedures is rooted in the specialization of the police force and the broad discretion granted to concentrated groups of police elites amid the late 1960s period of perceived threat escalation. Specifically, with the creation of highly insulated elite investigative units like the Detective Corps [Cuerpo de Detectives], previous extralegal violence waged by right-wing death squads was institutionalized as routine state activity. The new rules were sanctioned by top military intelligence officials, who devised clear procedures for how to frame the resulting killings to the public.

In response to the radicalization of the late 1960s, many governments turned to repression. With so many of their comrades behind bars, radicals in the North Atlantic decided to pay closer attention to prisoners, promote civil rights, build alliances with progressives, rebrand themselves as defenders of liberty. At the same time that activists were reconsidering their revolutionary priorities, the United States reoriented its war in Vietnam by using the issue of the POWs to reframe American intervention as a fight for humanitarian principles. Antiwar radicals in the United States and France responded by focusing on political dissidents in South Vietnam. Drawing on their experiences with prison organizing, they connected their newfound concern with civil liberties to antiwar activism, calling for the liberation of political prisoners in South Vietnam. Despite their new focus on rights, anti-imperialist radicals still thought in Leninist terms, framing their internationalism around the problematic of the right of nations to self-determination. Yet in arguing that South Vietnam violated civil rights, anti-imperialist solidarity increasingly took the form of criticizing the internal affairs of a sovereign state, which brought radicals close to competing visions of internationalism like human rights. While most radicals never agreed on a single radical rights discourse, and did not convert to human rights in the early 1970s, their new collective attention to rights, along with alliances with groups such as Amnesty International, shifted the political terrain in a way allowed a rival approach to global change to attract new audiences. In so doing, anti-imperialists lent legitimacy to a competing form of internationalism that shared the progressive aspirations of anti-imperialism but rejected nationalism in favor of human rights.