Chapter 4 looks at the concept of combatants and non-combatants, and its connected status, that of prisoner of war (POW). It examines who is entitled under IHL to combatant status, and examines those persons who have been denied combatant and POW status under IHL. Particular attention is paid to the status of resistance fighters, national liberation and guerrilla fighters, those participating in a levée en masse, and participants in non-international armed conflicts. The chapter outlines those categories of participant not entitled to combatant status such as spies, mercenaries, so-called unlawful combatants, and private military and security contractors. Chapter 4 also explores the current legal thinking regarding a contentious area of the law – that of civilians taking direct part in hostilities. The rules regarding POW status and the treatment of POWs are described. The chapter concludes by examining another developing area of the law: the power of detention in non-international armed conflicts.

This chapter examines the ways in which pre-war drama explored growing fears over major international conflict. Works considered include Du Maurier’s An Englishman’s Home (1909), Zangwill’s The War God (1911) and a number of less well-known plays and comic skits. The chapter contextualises these works in relation to the fraught geopolitical landscape in which they were produced and the wider cultural phenomenon of ‘invasion fiction’. Both critical and public reactions to these productions are also examined. The chapter concludes by exploring how the pre-war plays established the play-book for propagandistic war-time drama as theatre mobilised for the war effort.

Surveillance, The Cold War, And Latin American Literature is a cultural and aesthetic analysis of the relationship between secret police agencies and the intellectuals and writers in Latin America during the Cold War. It examines the period from 1950 to 1989 from an interdisciplinary perspective, providing an original understanding of how the Cold War produced stories and created ‘truths’ at a national level through its mechanisms of surveillance and control and how that modus operandi transformed the broader society and its culture. It combines analysis of novels, short stories, and poems by Gabriel García Márquez, Pablo Neruda, José Revueltas, Rodrigo Rey Rosa, among others, with spy reports and declassified documents from Mexican, Guatemalan, Chilean, and Uruguayan police archives, as well as the CIA, FBI, and Stasi archives. Surveillance traces how the paradigmatic change that began in the Renaissance with Brunelleschi’s re-invention of perspective radically transformed the human locus of enunciation, allowing for the emergence of a new world vision. This consequence of modernity created a basis for paranoid societies like those that emerged during the Cold War in Latin America.

Chapter 6 opens with examination of several reports by informants and agents in the Guatemalan National Police Archive. It discusses the language used and its implications. Then it analyzes the file of president Jacobo Árbenz from YEARS. Next, it studies the over 2,500 pages of José Revueltas’ file found in the Archive of the DFS. Most of the documents refer to Revueltas’ trial after the events of 1968. The chapter discusses the language employed by the agents, how Revueltas’s “responsibility” for the events of 1968 was established, and how surveillance of Revueltas did not end until his death. Subsequently, the chapter scrutinizes the files of Gabriel García Márquez. These files show the ambiguous position held by García Márquez in Mexico—he was described as “guest of honor” and “KGB agent” simultaneously. It discusses the writer’s political views and his silence regarding Mexican state violence.

The chapter covers the arrests and detention of the conspirators, the coercion used to force some to testify against their colleagues, preparations for the trials and the selection of the juries, public reactions to the news, identities of the men freed without prosecution.

Chapter 3 engages with the republicans’ everyday lives in exile and the practicalities of survival in the face of persecution and multiple assassination attempts against them. The refugees had to manage language barriers and money supplies, while guarding their security and sometimes living under false identities. One of the main activities of the exiles meanwhile was gathering intelligence and information about the political situation in England and in Europe more broadly, which would help their political cause. They were aided by their personal networks and a steady supply of letters from home as well as newsletters, papers and pamphlets from a variety of sources.

This second chapter of Part III looks at the composition of the Rahab account. Instead of understanding Rahab as the eponymous ancestor of an ancient clan (like Caleb and the Calebites), it demonstrates that we would be better served by interpreting her as a paradigmatic Other. Just as she came to be the prototypical proselyte for the rabbis, she figures in the biblical account as an archetypal outsider who successfully achieves membership among the people of Israel. Inasmuch as she is not associated with any one clan or community, this liminal figure from Canaanite society could serve as a safe proxy for outsiders in various times and places.

Lamberto dell’Antella’s confession and the execution of five leading Florentines in August 1497 marked a watershed in Piero’s years of exile. Before that, Piero’s friends met in Florence to discuss plans to bring him back to Florence, with Lamberto as a go-between carrying messages to and fro. In the early years of his exile, Piero had described himself in letters to the government and to his cousins as a good citizen who only wanted to be treated fairly and allowed to return home. But after 1497 everyone was afraid of contagion and we have to rely on the reports of ambassadors, merchants and spies to discover his movements. They show how high the stakes were in a conflict that pitted the leading families of Florence against each other.

Terror is always experienced subjectively, making it very difficult to assess its impact. Both the PRC in Sunan and the ROC in Taiwan engaged in strenuous actions to establish internal security and harden previously soft borders, and both deliberately used campaigns of fear to extend their reach deep into society. The PRC did so in Sunan with an openly named campaign: the Campaign to Suppress Counterrevolutionaries while the ROC in Taiwan engaged in a series of vicious police actions against suspected Communists and subversives. While the confirmed numbers of victims are elusive, in either raw numbers or as a percentage of the population, the Campaign to Suppress Counterrevolutionaries dispatched more victims in Sunan than the White Terror did in Taiwan. But in Taiwan, no social group was immune, and violent repression fell much more unpredictably than it did in Sunan.

This chapter discusses lawful combatancy and the necessity for irregular forces to use clandestine methods; illustrated by the debate between the ‘patriot school’ and the ‘military school’.

Throughout his lifetime, Brahms accompanied dozens of singers in a variety of settings, ranging from huge public halls to his friends’ homes, and conducted many others in choirs. Some of those working relationships were one-offs, arising from the widespread practice of including a set of piano-accompanied songs within most concerts and the expediency and cost-effectiveness of using local talent. Others were deep, enduring partnerships; the timbres and interpretative approaches of those singers are surely ingrained in his vocal music. Overall, Brahms’s singers were generally not part of the international operatic elite associated with Verdi, Bizet and Massenet. Figures like Julius Stockhausen (1826–1906) and Raimund von Zur-Mühlen (1854–1931)were almost exclusively concert singers and, later on, teachers. Most hailed from German-speaking territories, reflecting Brahms’s own concert career.

Throughout his lifetime, Brahms accompanied dozens of singers in a variety of settings, ranging from huge public halls to his friends’ homes, and conducted many others in choirs. Some of those working relationships were one-offs, arising from the widespread practice of including a set of piano-accompanied songs within most concerts and the expediency and cost-effectiveness of using local talent. Others were deep, enduring partnerships; the timbres and interpretative approaches of those singers are surely ingrained in his vocal music. Overall, Brahms’s singers were generally not part of the international operatic elite associated with Verdi, Bizet and Massenet. Figures like Julius Stockhausen (1826–1906) and Raimund von Zur-Mühlen (1854–1931)were almost exclusively concert singers and, later on, teachers. Most hailed from German-speaking territories, reflecting Brahms’s own concert career.