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Authoritarian regimes repress to prevent mass resistance to their rule. In doing so, regimes’ security forces require information about the dissidents who mobilize such resistance. Political competition, which fuels partisan rivalries, offers one solution to this problem by motivating civilians to provide needed information to security forces. Yet civilians share information about any political opponents, not just dissidents, which creates a challenge for regimes that want to target dissidents. Drawing on novel archival data from the immediate aftermath of the 1973 coup that brought Augusto Pinochet to power in Chile, a period that included civilian collaboration with repression, this article presents evidence that close pre-coup political competition is associated with more frequent repression and more targeting of non-dissidents. The author uses pre-coup democratic elections to measure political competition and addresses the challenge of estimating political preferences unaffected by repression. Qualitative evidence and further quantitative tests probe implications of the partisan rivalry mechanism and account for alternative explanations.
This chapter explores how the concept of visibility is politically crucial to practice theorizing within IR. It does so by drawing on recent work in social theory to demonstrate how practices of making certain persons, objects, or phenomena seen or unseen work to establish socio-political hierarchies. Specifically, we show how regimes of visibility endow actants with greater or lesser (in-)visibility ‘capital’ that structures what can be seen, heard, and felt about the world. We empirically explore the effects of regimes of visibility through the case of extraordinary rendition (and torture) in the United States and the Syrian Arab Republic, and the affective, political, and social effects of regimes of visibility in this case. Drawing on that discussion, we conclude that practices of making seen or unseen are regimes that predefine the focal point of any (scientific or not) mode of observation or analysis. As a result, the study of any other set of practices are filtered through regimes of visibility and – hence – practices of visibility fashion the way we see all practices. We argue that this central role of regimes of visibility makes their consideration within international practice theory crucial for its research programme.
After Hegel the Philosophy of Freedom becomes increasingly illiberal. Whereas for Hegel the nation-state was a middle ground between the extreme Left and Right, Marx, Nietzsche and Heidegger embraced revolutionary visions of a future transformation of mankind in which the state vanishes. Hegel extolled classical Greece for its balance between democracy, Platonic philosophy and high culture. Nietzsche and Heidegger instead embraced the pre-Socratic view of existence as war – more suited to their revolutionary stances. They still agreed that historicism could provide a unified account of life rivaling Plato in scope. That belief was shattered by the Fact/Value distinction, which restored Rousseau’s dualism between nature and freedom and made it a permanent chasm. Belief in a comprehensive theory of history was further discredited by totalitarian movements like Marxism-Leninism and National Socialism which used it to deify tyranny. Academically, the Philosophy of Freedom fragmented into Critical Theory, Postmodernism and Hermeneutics. Politically, radicals like Lenin, Fanon, Shariati and Dugin adapted it to their extremist purposes. Given its arguably dangerous political implications, I conclude by asking: Was the Philosophy of Freedom a mistaken path that should never have been taken? Or might it still contribute to liberal education today?
This study uses ethnography along Ethiopian women's irregular migration routes through Djibouti to analyse the complex reasons women leave home to seek labour opportunities in the Gulf States. Theories and policies that either narrowly depict women's motivations as economic in nature or focus only on women's needs for security and protection, fail to account both for the politics of seeking employment abroad, and the ways migration provides women a potential refuge from various forms of violence at home. Using a feminist analysis, we argue that women do not migrate only for financial opportunities, but also to escape combinations of domestic, political and structural violence. As such, irregular migration both evinces a failure of asylum systems and humanitarian organisations to protect Ethiopians, and a failure of the state to provide Ethiopian women meaningful citizenship. Lacking both protection and meaningful citizenship, international migration represents women's journeys for opportunity and emancipation.
Hate speech is a form of communication that targets disadvantaged social groups in a harmful way. It can be seen as a driving force behind the successes of numerous populist politicians and extremist movements. In this chapter, we argue that studying hate speech can be crucial for a better understanding of political mobilisation, intergroup relations, and social media. We describe the role of hate speech in mobilising electoral support and violence, in the promotion of racism and prejudice, as well as in shaping attitudes towards government policies. We uncover how political ideology and hate speech are interconnected, and that the left-right political beliefs do not always explain why individuals turn to use hate speech. We also outline the dilemma between the protection against hate speech and the freedom of expression principles, that are at the core of current debates on derogatory language.
This comment discusses the impact of social media rule enforcement protocols on research on online data sources. It argues that the conclusions of the article ‘Do Islamic State's Deadly Attacks Disengage, Deter, or Mobilize Supporters?’ concerning the recruitment effects of deadly attacks cannot be assumed to hold when considering the timing of Twitter account suspensions. It highlights four ways in which suspensions can confound evidence of demobilization despite the introduction of control variables and fixed-effects model specifications. All change the composition of the sample in four non-random ways. First, suspending connected Islamic State accounts may result in follower loss. Secondly, Twitter suspension procedures may be tied to account characteristics, such as follower accrual rates. Thirdly, suspended accounts that re-emerge introduce replication bias. Fourthly, account closure may reflect user movement to other platforms in response to changing security environments following deadly attacks. In conclusion, caution is advised when platform-introduced variation risks altering the sample composition in non-random ways.
This chapter introduces the question of why capitalist development in Colombia has resulted in contradictory outcomes, including endemic political violence and labor repression that exist alongside regular elections, stable economic growth, and deeply entrenched political conservativism across large segments of the country’s working class. To understand these contradictions, it reconceptualizes them as labor regime dynamics that vary significantly across three global commodity-producing regions (coffee, bananas, coca) and across developmental periods of time (pre-developmentalist, developmentalist, neoliberal). It then lays out the conceptual framework and methodological approach of the book, which draws from and extends insights from labor regimes, global commodity chains, world hegemonies, and comparative and world historical sociology. Finally, it provides an overview of the structure of the book and its main findings.
Chapter 3 reflects on the unintended consequences of fieldwork in polarized societies, which may affect the autonomy of both the researcher and the researched. In a context of past violence and intractable conflict, research participants often have concerns about how the research impacts the autonomy of their daily life by potentially compromising their safety. On the other hand, research participants may try to make use of the researcher for their own political and economic objectives, compromising the autonomy of the project. In analyzing the simultaneous empowerment and disempowerment of research participants, the chapter discusses the methodological and ethical challenges of power and neutrality during fieldwork and joins others in showing that conflict research needs to be understood as a form of intervention in local affairs.
Why do communities form militias to defend themselves against violence during civil war? Using original interviews with former combatants and civilians and archival material from extensive fieldwork in Mozambique, Corinna Jentzsch's Violent Resistance explains the timing, location and process through which communities form militias. Jentzsch shows that local military stalemates characterized by ongoing violence allow civilians to form militias that fight alongside the government against rebels. Militias spread only to communities in which elites are relatively unified, preventing elites from coopting militias for private gains. Crucially, militias that build on preexisting social conventions are able to resonate with the people and empower them to regain agency over their lives. Jentzsch's innovative study brings conceptual clarity to the militia phenomenon and helps us understand how wartime civilian agency, violent resistance, and the rise of third actors beyond governments and rebels affect the dynamics of civil war, on the African continent and beyond.
Chapter 2 contains a theoretical framework to analyze how militias form. It also introduces a definition and typology of militias, introduces the theory that guides the subsequent analysis, and provides an overview of the research design of the study.
Moral injury names how the lived experience of armed conflict can damage an individual's ethical foundations, often with serious consequences. While the term has gained increasing acceptance for the clinical treatment of veterans and as a means of better understanding the impact of war, it is generally applied to individualized trauma. As part of the roundtable, “Moral Injury, Trauma, and War,” this essay argues that moral injury is also a useful means of addressing political violence at a societal level. It explores the term's value within international human rights discourse and practice, particularly in efforts to document and analyze the systematic commission of atrocities to achieve accountability and reconciliation. The essay presents field research among Iraqi human rights investigators as a means of reflecting on the value of rediscovering agency in the aftermath of societal trauma. In this way, moral injury provides guidance on the essential ethical qualities of the lived experience of violent repression, an issue central to a more complete understanding of international affairs.
This chapter sets out the field of terrorism studies and reviews the main issues and research directions that characterise the field today. The history of the discipline is summarised and terrorism and its ‘near neighbour’ hate crime are defined and compared before turning to the developments that have dominated the research agenda over the last ten years.
Chapter 7 explains how militant Islamist leaders adapted “traditional” Egyptian rural norms in ways that allowed them both to supplant the political power of local notables, while simultaneously institutionalizing extortion practices and implementing their own brand of “law and order.” Islamic militants exploited the high levels of social and economic uncertainty in Cairo’s informal housing areas. An important reason behind the popularity of radical Islamists among local residents is due to the ways in which their leaders have utilized highly coercive methods to settle local disputes and enforce informal labor contracts for their members, while simultaneously preaching against the ills of conspicuous consumption in their sermons and imposing strict Islamic modes of conduct. The chapter shows how the socio-economic conditions that have served, as a “recruiting ground” for Islamist radicals was made possible as result of economic change at both the international as well as domestic level.
In 1885, the Conservative Party/pro-slavery countermovement took power and closed the institutional agenda to abolition. Besides, the government started to repress abolitionist acts in the public space. The new Prime Minister, the Baron of Cotegipe, rolled out a repressive program, using legal measures, and allowed the pro-slavery countermovement to relying on extra-legal methods. The harassing, persecuting, and arresting of abolitionists increased. The movement then shifted from public demonstrations to civil disobedience, and clandestine activities. Based on the North-American underground railway strategy, abolitionists set up assisted collective runaway routes to get slaves to “free soil”. Abolitionists also declared in their newspapers their willingness to take up arms to defend their activists and liberate slaves. This radicalization made it impracticable to maintain slavery without the use of force. This was a phase of confrontation since the government counted on military repression and the pro-slavery countermovement´s militias to face the abolitionists' strategy.
Chapter 4 examines the experiences of young, black, urban-based, and predominantly male civic and political activists, who were pervasively persecuted by the police through violent arrests and inhumane conditions in detention. For ZANU-PF, the stages of arrest and detention offered a public platform on which to perform the party’s portrayal of activists as ‘criminals’. Framing the physical violence, mental torment and isolation that marked their treatment at the hands of the police as an experience which would not occur in a ‘normal’, ‘rule-bound’ and ‘democratic’ society, activists in turn refused to accept these efforts to criminalise them. ZANU-PF’s use of the law, activists argued, could not grant it authority. Activists were confronted, however, with the fact that their understandings of their arrest and detention as ‘illegitimate’ were not universally shared. In the eyes of certain family members they were still ‘criminalised’, despite the fact that they were targeted for arrest due to their political activities, rather than for, for example, committing petty theft. This highlights the existence of multiple legal consciousnesses in Zimbabwe, some of which are built less on notions of how the law should work, and more on a recognition of the power of law itself.
Chapter 3 examines how citizens articulated and mobilised their legal and state consciousness when they engaged with Zimbabwe’s politicised legal institutions. Through the selective application of the law, ZANU-PF could endanger the safety of individuals reporting crimes to the police or taking cases to court. Citizens like Patrick and Father Mkandla situated themselves against these practices, demanding that the police and the courts ‘follow the rules’ by interacting with these institutions as if they were rule-bound. In these expressions of their legal consciousness, both men played upon divisions among civil servants working within state institutions (identified in Chapter 2) to achieve occasional ‘successes’ through the law. Their commitment to rule-bound behaviour was also an expression of their state consciousness. By ‘remaining on the right side of law’ themselves, these men could make claims to a particular kind of citizenship that demanded an extension of the authority of the state beyond its ability to guarantee ‘rights’, to a broader responsibility to safeguard citizens’ human dignity, civility, and morality.
This chapter explains the importance of the phase of pre-conflict mobilisation for insurgent groups subsequent development. The chapter empirically presents the fallout from the 1971 coup and the tumultuous decade that followed. It explains the various violent tendencies in 1970s Turkey: the Right, the Left, Kurdish movements and the state. It tracks the emergence of the PKK from the socialist revolutionary milieu in Ankara, through its return to Kurdistan and its eventual consolidation as one of the region's most dominant revolutionary groups. It gives a substantial empirical overview of the multitude of Kurdish movements’ mobilization in the late 1970s. It lays out how the PKK overcame its weaknesses (lack of local legitimacy and resources) through a patient strategy of recruitment and calculated use of violence against local enemies. It then explains the impact of the 1980 military coup and the brutal repression of the Kurdish region. It discusses the deployment of state torture and terror and how Diyarbakir prison and the resistance by PKK prisoners became a rallying point for the weakened PKK. It finishes by outlining the PKK’s steps to prepare for the 1984 insurgency.
If the struggle in the South began in order to expel the French, violence ended up transforming the countryside, and ripping Mekong Delta society apart. The delta went through two internal fractures at the beginning of the war. The first, dating from late 1945 and into 1946, split many (but not all) Khmer from Vietnamese. The catalyst of this fracture was France's drive into the delta from late 1945, when it recruited "partisans," and especially ethnic Khmer, to fight Viet Minh forces. The French worsened ethnic antagonisms, leading to extensive violence between these two communities. The second major fracture was catalyzed by the Viet Minh's attempt to subdue rivals for leadership of the "nationalist" movement. Primed during 1945 and 1946, this second fracture occurred in 1947. For the second fracture, the chapter looks at two key turning points: Cao Dai leader Pham Cong Tac's decision to tactically ally with the French, and the Viet Minh killing of Hoa Hao Prophet Huynh Phu So. The violence following these two acts reshaped the South and definitively set the course for the rest of the war.
There has been a proliferation of research with human participants in violent contexts over the past ten years. Adhering to commonly held ethical principles such as beneficence, justice, and respect for persons is particularly important and challenging in research on violence. This letter argues that practices around research ethics in violent contexts should be reported more transparently in research outputs, and should be seen as a subset of research methods. We offer practical suggestions and empirical evidence from both within and outside of political science around risk assessments, mitigating the risk of distress and negative psychological outcomes, informed consent, and monitoring the incidence of potential harms. An analysis of published research on violence involving human participants from 2008 to 2019 shows that only a small proportion of current publications include any mention of these important dimensions of research ethics.