Virtual Library

Mahatma Gandhi and Jawaharlal Nehru helped create the myth of a nonviolent ancient India while building a modern independence movement on the principle of nonviolence (ahimsa). But this myth obscures a troubled and complex heritage: a long struggle to reconcile the ethics of nonviolence with the need to use violence to rule. Upinder Singh documents the dynamic tension between violence and nonviolence in ancient Indian political thought and practice over twelve hundred years.

Political Violence in Ancient India looks at representations of kingship and political violence in epics, religious texts, political treatises, plays, poems, inscriptions, and art from 600 BCE to 600 CE. As kings controlled their realms, fought battles, and meted out justice, intellectuals debated the boundary between the force required to sustain power and the excess that led to tyranny and oppression. Duty (dharma) and renunciation were important in this discussion, as were punishment, war, forest tribes, and the royal hunt. Singh reveals a range of perspectives that defy rigid religious categorization. Buddhists, Jainas, and even the pacifist Maurya emperor Ashoka recognized that absolute nonviolence was impossible for kings.

By 600 CE religious thinkers, political theorists, and poets had justified and aestheticized political violence to a great extent. Nevertheless, questions, doubt, and dissent remained. These debates are as important for understanding political ideas in the ancient world as for thinking about the problem of political violence in our own time.

Scholars have long argued that dehumanization causes violence. However, others have recently argued that those who harm do so because they feel pressured or view violence as justified. Examining the Rwandan genocide, this article contends that contradictory theories of dehumanization can be reconciled through consideration of cultural and moral sociology. Research on culture and action demonstrates that when people strive to implement new practices, they often explicitly work through them cognitively and emotionally. With time, however, these conscious processes diminish until actions that were once new proceed with ease. In another vein, morality research suggests our affective responses to actions indicate their moral significance; when we do not react emotionally to actions, they are morally irrelevant. Herein, I combine these ideas with a temporal analysis of Hutus’ recollections of killing Tutsi and find cognitive, emotional, and relational transformations rendered killing mundane over time. Dehumanization was a consequence of violence, not a cause.

How does violence shape citizens’ preferences for conflict termination? The existing literature has argued that violence either begets sympathy for more violence or drives support for making peace. Focusing on the 2016 Colombian Peace Agreement, this article finds that victimhood dissociation strongly shapes these preferences. With victimhood dissociation, a discrepancy exists between objective and subjective victimization, and the effect of violence on peace attitudes depends on citizens’ subjective interpretations of their personal experiences of violence. Citizens who do not experience violence often see themselves as victims of the conflict and vice versa. Victimhood dissociation is linked to cultural stereotypes of victimhood as portrayed in elite narratives concerning the conflict. In Colombia, political leaders framed victimhood around rurality, business entrepreneurship, kidnapping, extortion, and disappearance. In 2016, this widespread narrative was instrumental for politicians opposing the peace agreement. Citizens who disassociated their personal experiences of violence from their self-understanding as victims were instrumental to the failure of the peace plebiscite.

American Indians remain familiar as icons, yet poorly understood as historical agents. In this ambitious book that ranges across Utah, Nevada, New Mexico, Colorado, and eastern California (a region known as the Great Basin), Ned Blackhawk places Native peoples squarely at the center of a dynamic and complex story as he chronicles two centuries of Indian and imperial history that profoundly shaped the American West.

On the distant margins of empire, Great Basin Indians increasingly found themselves engulfed in the chaotic storms of European expansion and responded in ways that refashioned themselves and those around them. Focusing on Ute, Paiute, and Shoshone Indians, Blackhawk illuminates this history through a lens of violence, excavating the myriad impacts of colonial expansion. Brutal networks of trade and slavery forged the Spanish borderlands, and the use of violence became for many Indians a necessary survival strategy, particularly after Mexican Independence when many became raiders and slave traffickers. Throughout such violent processes, these Native communities struggled to adapt to their changing environments, sometimes scoring remarkable political ends while suffering immense reprisals.

Violence over the Land is a passionate reminder of the high costs that the making of American history occasioned for many indigenous peoples, written from the vantage point of an Indian scholar whose own family history is intimately bound up in its enduring legacies.

Across Latin America, the 1990s saw an increase in popular lynchings of suspected criminals at the hands of large crowds. Although it is often assumed that these incidents involve random, regrettable, and relatively spontaneous acts of violence or throwbacks to the past, I argue in this article that these represent purposeful, powerful, and deeply political acts. Most literature on the region tends to regard contemporary violence as a predominantly “top-down” phenomenon—by state against citizen, landowner against peasant, mestizo against Indian—yet these incidents reveal a new sort of violence that originates at the bottom. I argue that the lynchings suggest an attempt by embattled communities to reassert their autonomy after decades of repeated assault by state armies, local elites, the globalized economy, and other adversaries. By enacting these highly ritualized, unequivocally public displays of “justice,” marginalized communities seek not only to punish and to deter criminal activity, but perhaps more importantly, to reassert themselves collectively as agents rather than victims. In this way, lynchings may reveal a dark side of what passes for “democracy” in the region.

What is the reality of policing in the United States? Do the police keep anyone safe and secure other than the very wealthy? How do recent police killings of young black people in the United States fit into the historical and global context of anti-blackness?

This collection of reports and essays (the first collaboration between Truthout and Haymarket Books) explores police violence against black, brown, indigenous and other marginalized communities, miscarriages of justice, and failures of token accountability and reform measures. It also makes a compelling and provocative argument against calling the police.

Contributions cover a broad range of issues including the killing by police of black men and women, police violence against Latino and indigenous communities, law enforcement's treatment of pregnant people and those with mental illness, and the impact of racist police violence on parenting, as well as specific stories such as a Detroit police conspiracy to slap murder convictions on young black men using police informant and the failure of Chicago's much-touted Independent Police Review Authority, the body supposedly responsible for investigating police misconduct. The title Who Do You Serve, Who Do You Protect? is no mere provocation: the book also explores alternatives for keeping communities safe.

Modern history is haunted by the disasters of the century--world wars, concentration camps, Hiroshima, and the Holocaust--grief, anger, terror, and loss beyond words, but still close, still impending. How can we write or think about disaster when by its very nature it defies speech and compels silence, burns books and shatters meaning? The Writing of the Disaster reflects upon efforts to abide in disaster's infinite threat. First published in French in 1980, it takes up the most serious tasks of writing: to describe, explain, and redeem when possible, and to admit what is not possible. Neither offers consolation. Maurice Blanchot has been praised on both sides of the Atlantic for his fiction and criticism. The philosopher Emmanuel Levinas once remarked that Blanchot's writing is a language of pure transcendence, without correlative. Literary theorist and critic Geoffrey Hartman remarked that Blanchot's influence on contemporary writers cannot be overestimated.

上世紀五、六十年代之交，在中國大陸發生了一場歷史上罕見的大饑荒，從1958年至1962年期間，據不完全統計，中國餓死了三千六百萬人，因飢餓使得出生率降低，少出生人數估計為四千萬上下，餓死人數加上飢餓而少出生人數共計七千多萬人，這不僅是中國歷史上所發生的災荒中死亡人數最多的一次巨災，也是人類當代史中最為慘痛的空前大悲劇。

究竟這是一場天災還是由「人禍」所造成的大災荒呢？官方對此或含糊其詞，或有意掩蓋，竭力淡化這一歷史事實。然而，劉少奇當年曾對毛澤東說過：「餓死這麼多人，歷史上要寫上你我的，人相食，要上書的。」可是，時至今日，在中國內地仍未能見到有一本紀錄這一場大災難的信史問世。

本書作者從事新聞工作數十年，他窮數年之功，跑遍了當年災難最嚴重的十幾個省份，親自查閱無數公開或秘藏的檔案與記錄，訪問當事人，反覆查證，以史筆之心與新聞記者的良知，數易其稿，真實地再現了這段慘絕人寰的人間痛史，並以大量的事實和數據，條分縷析造成這場大饑饉的主因並非天災，而是在氣候正常的年景，在一個沒有戰爭、沒有瘟疫的和平發展年代裏所發生的慘劇，作者還深刻地指出，這個中國當代史上的大饑荒的成因及結果，也間接引發了另一場浩劫 ── 文化大革命。

本書篇幅宏大，材料豐富，許多史料乃為首次披露，內容震撼，觸目驚心，有令人不忍卒讀之概。現在還活?的五十多歲以上的中國人對這場大饑荒應還記憶猶新，這是一本承載了許許多多老百姓的集體記憶之書，亦是為那三千六百多萬受難者所立下的紀念「墓碑」之墓誌銘。

As the 1950s turned to the 1960s, a massive famine the likes of which are rarely seen throughout history swept over the Chinese mainland. Incomplete statistics estimate that between 1958 and 1962 in China, 36 million people starved to death, and 40 million fewer births occurred due to the reduced birthrate caused by famine for a grand total more than 70 million deaths and fewer births. This marks not only the most catastrophic famine with the highest death toll in Chinese history, but also the most grievous unprecedented tragedy in the contemporary history of mankind.

Is this a natural disaster or a famine caused by "manmade" disaster? Officials have been vague about this or intentionally concealed it in an effort to downplay the historical facts. Yet Liu Shaoqi once said to Chairman Mao, "So many people have starved to death, you and I should be written into history. It should be written about that people are eating each other." However, there has yet to be a truthful history documenting this great catastrophe in mainland China.

The author of this book has worked in journalism for decades and spent years working dutifully on this book. Through traveling to more than 10 of the provinces hit hardest by the disaster, personally consulting countless public and secret archives and records, conducting interviews, and repeatedly fact-checking, this tragic human history has been reproduced with the heart of the historical pen and the conscience of a journalist. Drawing from a great quantity of facts and figures, the main cause of the famine was not natural disaster but rather a tragedy that took place under normal climate conditions, a peaceful time of development with no war or disease. As the author profoundly points out, the causes and outcomes of the great famine in Chinese history also indirectly set off another great tragedy-- the Cultural Revolution.

This book is large and its material is rich, revealing for the first time many historical materials. Its content is shocking and difficult to read, and there are still Chinese people in their fifties who have vivid memories of the great famine. This is a book that carries the collective memory of many people. It is also an epitaph on this tombstone erected for the more than 36 million victims of famine.