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The announcement by Presidents Obama and Castro in December 2014 of a major step towards normalisation of inter-state relations was part of what is primarily a political process, but normalisation implies a return to peaceful inter-state relations based on respect for fundamental principles of international law. This commentary explores the role that those principles have played in helping shape the confrontation between the United States and Cuba since the revolution of 1959, which has been underpinned by an economic, commercial and financial embargo of Cuba by the United States. This commentary argues that, from being an integral part of the bilateral dispute, international law can, at key moments, shift to form part of a solution. The changing political landscape raises the prospects of the parties turning to international law as a means of restoring normal relations between them resulting in, amongst other changes, the demise of the embargo.
In the first history of laywomen and the church in colonial Mexico, Jessica L. Delgado shows how laywomen participated in and shaped religious culture in significant ways by engaging creatively with gendered theology about women, sin, and guilt in their interactions with church sacraments, institutions, and authorities. Taking a thematic approach, using stories of individuals, institutions, and ideas, Delgado illuminates the diverse experiences of urban and rural women of Indigenous, Spanish, and African descent. By centering the choices these women made in their devotional lives and in their relationships to the aspects of the church they regularly encountered, this study expands and challenges our understandings of the church's role in colonial society, the role of religion in gendered and racialized power, and the role of ordinary women in the making of colonial religious culture.
This article studies the reformulation of Black Legend, Middle Passage and convivencia discourses in nineteenth-century narratives published by Cubans sent to Spain's de facto penal colony on Fernando Po. Contextualised with archival sources, this reading highlights how deportees condemned Spain's perpetuation of the slave trade while struggling to negotiate their own positioning within the racially-stratified practices of late-imperial space. Those negotiations often exacerbated traditional divisions between different communities within the Spanish colonial system. In some instances, however, the deportees’ encounters with citizens and colonised subjects from distant territories may have bolstered and expanded intra-imperial identification and solidarity.
The automobile arrives bringing change to the street’s uses and meanings. Among many factors driving car ownership were its capacity to express social status and its power to create exclusive, protected space for motorists on the public commons, lifting them above the common press of the street. The car's strong association with elites and officials created a palpable sense of class conflict between motorists and pedestrians. While pedestrians resisted changes, the elite engaged the machine's insistence for space to help eliminate street behaviors that had long been judged undesirable, including peddling, keeping animals, singing, dancing, and various forms of play and recreation. They even tried to impose rules for walking on the sidewalks now congested with pedestrians forced to the street's margin. Pedestrian reforms said that everyone must keep moving. Stasis became a crime. Above all, the car, with its outsized spatial demands and noise, impinged on the street’s function as a place to build community. And even carnival, the city’s quintessential street celebration, was transformed by wealthy participants who filled the streets with their automobiles.
Finally, we outline the streets’ descent into vehicular congestion and analyze attempts, both derivative and original, to keep motorists happy with free-flowing streets and ample parking spaces. Officials found in the car the means to enforce the street’s best use,
This chapter examines the expansion of public spaces in Rio at the expense of private property, focusing on the case of case of Central Avenue, completed in 1906. City officials began to reform and create streets as purposeful spaces, with design features, such as aesthetic paving, vetted facades, and street furniture, created to express the city's modernization and progress. The phrase of the day was "Rio civilizes itself." The stated motives for its construction emphasized orderly circulation and immaculate hygiene, but for those who used the street, its percieved beauty and the expansion of the commons were themes of broad popularity. The elite came to realize that while they had the power to shape civil spaces, largely by aping European aesthetic standards, they still could not eradicate uncivilized, plebiean behavior on those spaces, nor could they impose order. The chapter also outlines the development of the city's public transportation, emphasizing the success of horse trams, which were introduced in the late 1860s, and the conflicts between new modes of transporation, namely electric streetcars, and the handcarters laborers who inisted on sharing the rails.
This chapter uncovers minority positions that opposed the automobile’s impacts on public spaces, both those of the artistic elite and the artistic underclasses. There was no organized opposition to the car, but lamentations were common. Brazil’s literary elite, many of them members of Academy of Brazilian letter, found an unusual outlet for expressing their criticisms of the car, which tended to focus mostly on the car’s role in the loss of community and human decency. For non-elite expressions, we look to folk poetry and samba lyrics. Some examples of the first, mostly a pedestrian’s view, decried the street’s extreme violence by describing in the most grisly of terms. Samba songs criticized and lamented the construction of the new sixteen-lane Vargas Avenue in 1944 for paving over Praça Onze, destroying the traditional space of carnival for the city’s African residents. Lyricists accused and plead, but in the end could only lament Praça Onze’s loss. We also turn to the foreign gaze of Stefan Zweig, the German author who, fleeing the Nazi’s in Austria, hoped to make Brazil a home and who found in Rio’s street life particular consolations.