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THE PERCEPTION OF identity arises from the knowledge of others, which entails the certainty of the distinctive features of an individual or group. Identity is often defined in different ways in relation to the characteristics the individual or group possesses, as well as in relation to the different groups with which it is related. Identity, even, can be subjective and only perceived by the individual, but that desire to possess a differentiated identity can be an identity feature in itself.
Identity and Castration: Eunuchs in the Islamic World
Eunuchs can be considered, without any doubt, a special collective, whose different identity is evident to the naked eye. The sources themselves tell us that the infantile voices of these castrated males allowed them to be identified quickly. Despite this, that sexual ambiguity that allows them to accede, despite being men, to the female rooms, is not the only identity that they possess. Eunuchs are legally slaves and Islamic jurisprudence considers them to be “male adult slaves,” ignoring their castration as a differential element. From the point of view of religious sciences (theology and law), they are men, sometimes “Muslim men.” On the other hand, given that its main social identity characteristic is slavery, it is not its only distinctive feature, since they possess a privileged social status inside the palace. Paradoxically, what could be seen as a negative factor—the destruction of their manhood—gives them rights among palace officials that place them in the highest ranking of civil servants in the service of emirs and caliphs and belong, therefore, to the palace elites. Finally, on some occasions the Arab sources also give the eunuchs an ethnic identity because it is affirmed they had a common geographical origin. As will be seen later, that geographical origin—in the case of al-Andalus, they were called Saqaliba or Slavs—serves to designate them and euphemistically substitutes for the word “eunuch.” This ethnic identity should also give them a distinctive and characteristic aspect.
Given this variety of perspectives, it is worth asking if it is a marginal identity. Eunuchs are men, but they also have some women's rights; they are slaves, but sometimes they have the power and influence of free men.
The living standards of the working classes during industrialization continue to be the subject of debate in European historiography. However, other factors closely related to the institutional setting, such as the role played by social economy and the institutions for collective action, are seldom considered. This study focuses on these factors, and attempts to quantify the social impact of consumer cooperatives. We argue that these institutions substantially improved the lot of the working classes from the mid-nineteenth century onwards, helping them to increase their incomes, and access food and services, such as education and social services, which the state did not provide in sufficient measure. To demonstrate this point, we analyse thirty-five consumer cooperatives in Barcelona, an industrial centre in which these organizations were more popular than anywhere else in Spain. Our main conclusion is that consumer cooperatives increased the well-being of their members, helping them to meet their substantial calorific needs, although their diets were unbalanced and low-cost; members improved their income between five and ten per cent, by simply shopping at the institution, and gained access to basic welfare services.
This article examines whether and how the figure of Adolf Hitler in particular, and National Socialism more generally, operate as moral exemplars in today’s Germany. In conversation with similar studies about Mosely in England, Franco in Spain, and Mussolini in Italy, it seeks to advance our comparative understanding of neofascism in Europe and beyond. In Germany, legal and discursive constraints limit what can be said about the Third Reich period, while even far-right nationalists often condemn Hitler, for either the Holocaust or his military failure. Here I revise the concept of moral exemplarity as elaborated by Caroline Humphry to argue that Hitler and National Socialism do nevertheless work as contemporary exemplars, in at least three fashions: negativity, substitution, and extension. First, they stand as the most extreme markers of negative exemplarity for broad publics that understand them as illustrations of absolute moral depravity. Second, while Hitler himself is widely unpopular, Führer-substitutes such as Rudolf Hess provide alternative figures that German nationalists admire and seek to emulate. Finally, by extension to the realm of the ordinary, National Socialism introduces a cast of exemplars in the figures of loving grandfathers or anonymous fallen soldiers. The moral values for which they stand, I show, appear to be particularly significant for young nationalists. An extended, more open-ended notion of exemplarity, I conclude, can offer important insights about the lingering afterlife of fascist figures in the moral life of European nationalists today.
Based on long-term ethnographic research on contemporary exhumations of mass graves from the Spanish Civil War (1936–1939), as well as analysis of the exhumation of Francisco Franco from the Valley of the Fallen, this paper looks at the ways in which the dictator’s moral exemplarity has evolved over time since his military victory in 1939. During the early years of his dictatorship, Franco’s propaganda machine built the legend of a historical character touched by divine providence who sacrificed himself to save Spain from communism. His moral charisma was enriched by associating his historical mission with a constellation of moral exemplars drawn from medieval and imperial Spain. After his death, his moral exemplarity dwindled as democratic Spain embraced a political discourse of national reconciliation. Yet, since 2000, a new negative exemplarity of Franco as a war criminal has come into sharp focus, in connection with the exhumation of the mass graves of tens of thousands of Republican civilians executed by his army and paramilitary. In recent years, Franco has reemerged as a fascist exemplar alongside a rise of the extreme right. To understand the revival of his fascist exemplarity, I focus on two processes: the rise of the political party Vox, which claims undisguised admiration for Franco’s legacy (a process I call “neo-exemplarity”), and the dismantling in October 2019 of Franco’s honorable burial and the debate over the treatment that his mortal remains deserve (a process I call “necro-exemplarity”).
This paper examines the ways in which “ordinariness” can come to be exemplified as a virtue. It does so by comparing the status of ordinariness in historical and present-day Predappio, the town in which Mussolini was born and is buried. It describes the ways in which Predappio was mobilized by the Fascist regime as an exemplar of an ordinary Italian town, rendered extraordinary by its wholesale reconstruction as a jewel in the crown of Fascist urban planning. In similar fashion, Mussolini’s ordinary rural upbringing was mobilized in the service of propagandizing his extraordinary and exemplary leadership. In contemporary Predappio, by contrast, ordinariness is what locals reach for to contest understandings of their home as irrevocably associated with the extraordinary Fascist heritage they have inherited. One of the ways in which they do so is to celebrate a local exemplar of this ordinariness, Giuseppe Ferlini, the town’s first postwar mayor. In contrast to Mussolini, Ferlini’s ordinariness is not a backdrop to future greatness, but exactly the quality for which he is celebrated. I assert that these cases demonstrate the need for vigilance in analytic usage of the category of “the ordinary,” which sometimes tacitly assumes the existence of “the ordinary” as a scale in itself, independent of human action. I argue instead that “the ordinary” may be the object of ethical labor, rather than its site, and that exemplification may be a form of such labor, in both our accounts and the lives of those we study.
This essay discusses several books, ancient and recent, on plagues to ask the question: Can we face death without turning away from it through historical narration? Can we write about death, which only afflicts individuals, without stripping death of its individuality? After briefly addressing these questions, I discuss five books, one from the ancient period (Thucydides’s Peloponnesian War), one from the late medieval period (Giovanni Boccaccio’s The Decameron), one from the early modern period (Daniel Defoe’s A Journal of the Plague Year), and two from the modern period (Mary Shelley’s The Last Man, and Frank Snowden’s Epidemics and Society). These books not only come from different eras but also reflect different written responses to death—ancient history, story/fable, reportage, futuristic novel, and contemporary history. The essay concludes by considering a counterargument to its focus on death, an argument developed by Baruch Spinoza which claims that humans should think nothing less than of death.
Police verification of domestic servants has become standard practice in many cities in contemporary India. However, the regularization of work, which brings domestic servants under protective labour laws, is still a work in progress. Examining a long timespan, this article shows how policing of the servant, through practices of identification and verification, came to be institutionalized. It looks at the history of registration within the larger mechanism of regulation that emerged for domestic servants in the late eighteenth century. However, the establishment of control over servants was not linear in its subsequent development; registration as a tool of control took on different meanings within the changing ecosystem of legal provisions. In the late eighteenth century, it was discussed as being directly embedded in the logic of master–servant regulation, a template that was borrowed from English law. In the late nineteenth century, it was increasingly seen as a proxy for formal means of regulation, although this viewpoint was not universally accepted. Charting this history of changing structures of inclusion and exclusion within the law, the article argues that overt policing of servants is a manifestation of the colonial legacy, in which the identity of the servant is fused with potential criminality.
The gamekeeper was an important but controversial presence in the late Victorian and Edwardian countryside. Admired by some for his skills in woodcraft and deep understanding of nature, for others the keeper was much less benign: a destroyer of wildlife; a barrier against wider public access to the land; and the upholder of fiercely contested laws. At a time when debates about the land and its present and future use formed a major part of contemporary political discourse, and when an urbanising society was investing ever more meaning in its idea of the rural, consideration of the keeper takes us beyond the study of field sports towards broader histories of the English countryside and its attendant ruralist culture. Situating the keeper in a dual setting of material production and recreational service provision, the following examines both what he did and was expected to do, and the ways in which this was represented. Not only were keepers active agents in their own representation, eager to project themselves as skilled professionals, they might also elicit support from unusual quarters. As will be seen, keeper representation was as varied as his many roles.
Neither laziness nor its condemnation are new inventions, however, perceiving laziness as a social condition that afflicts a 'nation' is. In the early modern era, Ottoman political treatises did not regard the people as the source of the state's problems. Yet in the nineteenth century, as the imperial ideology of Ottomanism and modern discourses of citizenship spread, so did the understanding of laziness as a social disease that the 'Ottoman nation' needed to eradicate. Asking what we can learn about Ottoman history over the long nineteenth-century by looking closely into the contested and shifting boundaries of the laziness - productivity binary, Melis Hafez explores how 'laziness' can be used to understand emerging civic culture and its exclusionary practices in the Ottoman Empire. A polyphonic involvement of moralists, intellectuals, polemicists, novelists, bureaucrats, and, to an extent, the public reveals the complexities and ambiguities of this multifaceted cultural transformation. Using a wide variety of sources, this book explores the sustained anxiety about productivity that generated numerous reforms as well as new understandings of morality, subjectivity, citizenship, and nationhood among the Ottomans.
This article analyses the creation of unions and the evolution of protests (demonstrations, tractor blockades) instigated by farmers in the province of Burgos, in the interior of northern Spain, during the period following the death of the dictator Francisco Franco known as the Transition (1975–80). The study uses press articles, documentation from the Civil Government and information gathered through personal interviews. The aim of the article is to show that the farmers of the interior of northern Spain – an electorally conservative region – also participated in the citizens’ protests that were the driving force behind the democratisation process in the country during the 1970s.
This article attempts to answer the question about the position of women in Polish peasant families in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries based on the memoirs of rural women. Contrary to the claim that taking control over the household budget gave women more power on the farm, memoirs of peasant women show that it was rather an additional duty and responsibility. This problem mainly affected low-income families, where income from typically male activities was insufficient, so homemakers supported the family from the female part of the farm: gardening and dairy production. Thus, despite the decisive importance of women’s earnings for the household budget, their power in the family had only a symbolic dimension.
E-commerce in China has developed and expanded rapidly in recent years. Conflicts and confrontations have accumulated in parallel. Using Taobao e-marketplace – one pillar platform of the Alibaba group – as its case, this article aims to analyse the developmental logic and profit-seeking strategies of e-commerce capitalism in China and beyond. It also investigates how small online merchants responded to and resisted the particular rent-extractive and exclusive mechanisms designed by the platform. I attempt to identify the emerging responses from below to both the creative and destructive sides of this newest capitalist development in China. I argue that, despite the militancy and innovation involved in these movements, and despite the use of Maoist rhetoric borrowed from the past, the contentious collective actions (online or offline) organized by these small online merchants lack the solidarity, the shared identity and consciousness, and the powerful ideological language observed among the “traditional” working class in industrial capitalism, and hence they are more improvised, transient, and easily defeated.
This chapter examines the impact of decolonisation upon collection development, both in theory and in practice. It starts with a brief definition of collection development, how this has more recently evolved due to multiple influences and pressures and how it can be affected by bias. After, we reflect upon our analysis of London School of Economics and Political Science's (LSE) collections from a geographical perspective, assessing where our collections derive from. The relationship between collections and reading lists is then observed, particularly in terms of how library collections influence how reading lists are developed and how collections contribute to equity, diversity and inclusion issues. Finally, this chapter recommends some practical collection development steps that academic libraries can take, both individually and collectively, to make their collections more diverse, and also to support wider decolonisation initiatives within their parent institutions.
Collection development: an introduction
Library collections have historically been considered the heart of academic libraries, much as libraries have been said to be the heart of the university (Posner, 2019). Collection development is the work undertaken to build these collections and the decisions that are taken to determine how they evolve. Collection development includes many different activities, such as the selection and deselection of material, the acquisition of material and the evaluation of different access options (IFLA, 2020). Collection development is designed with the specific purpose to provide libraries with resources that meet the appropriate needs of their client populations (Gessesse, 2000) in a timely and economical manner (Evans, 1999).
The concept that collection development should ‘advance scholarship and research’ arguably refers back to Charles Coffin Jewett's tenure as the first full-time professional librarian in the USA, at Brown University in the mid-19th century (Desjarlais-Lueth, 1990). Over a century and a half later, this remains the consensus view (Jensen, 1977; Gonzalez-Kirby, 1991; Linden, Tudesco and Dollar, 2018; Scherlen and McAllister, 2019). Later, we will discuss the biases and inequities within curricula that have encouraged calls for greater change and levels of diversity. Therefore, we may question whether the role of collection development is solely to support teaching, learning and research and whether it should also be proactive in trying to influence it as well.
Collection development has been affected by technology and the promise of making processes more efficient, as well as by local pressures on time, staffing and finances.
Chapter 4 describes the debates that took place in the press immediately after the Balkan Wars (1912–13), which drew attention to the relationship between new concepts of the able body and the militarization of discourses of productivity. In the first Balkan War, the Ottoman armies were soundly defeated, and the empire lost its last landholdings in the Balkans. The perceived infirmities of the “Ottoman body” became a common thread in social critiques calling for all-out mobilization. This chapter traces the relationship between conceptualizations of the healthy, productive, and able body and discourses on the formation of an ideal citizen, as articulated by moralists, journalists, public figures, and memoirists of the Balkan Wars. I expose how calls for a productive body militarized a social issue during a time when Ottomans faced imminent threats of invasion. The militarization that characterized the last decade of the Ottoman Empire and the first decades of the Turkish Republic cannot be understood without first considering the process by which the body of the citizen became a site of national anxiety.
It has been a challenging time to be concerned about teaching information literacy in the USA. For a while, it felt like librarianship was shifting towards becoming a more justice-focused field. There was a shift towards critical information literacy (CIL), an approach incorporating critical pedagogy and/or critical theory into one's teaching. The Black Lives Matter movement brought the topic of racism into the national discourse. A growing number of librarians were writing articles using critical race theory (CRT) and other theoretical perspectives that used a critical lens to examine structural racism in libraries and librarianship. In addition, librarians were beginning to engage with decolonisation, including explicitly discussing the need for CIL to decolonise the assumptions inherent in most discussions of information literacy (e.g. Langille, 2018).
As those positive shifts were becoming more mainstream within librarianship, a pandemic of anti-intellectualism was spreading through the population. Large portions of the population were taking conspiracy theories as seriously as, or sometimes more seriously than, verifiable facts. The election of Donald Trump as the 45th President of the United States felt like a turning point. These conspiracy theories felt more influential than ever before, because the President of the United States regularly contributed to spreading them.
And then the COVID-19 pandemic struck. Conspiracy theories and anti-scientific perspectives continued running rampant, spurred on by the US President. Simple preventive measures, like wearing a mask in public, were politicised, while millions of people repeated the disinformation (Box 6.1 on the next page) claims that this was no worse than the flu. Meanwhile, colleges and universities across the country shifted to fully online education. Some libraries stayed open, while others went fully remote along with the rest of the institutions they operate within. Even at those colleges and universities that returned to in-person classes and reopened libraries early, COVID-19 safety measures influenced the on-campus experience.
In this chapter, I reflect on where we have been, the challenges we faced and some directions that I see as opportunities for working towards more justice in libraries and librarianship going forward.
Box 6.1: Disinformation or misinformation?
I use the term disinformation, rather than misinformation, when discussing factually incorrect information disseminated by political figures. Misinformation refers to information that is factually incorrect, regardless of intent.