Through a case study of the T’aegǔkki rallies beginning in late 2016, Chapter 6 examines why and how senior citizens took to the streets in large numbers to protest the impeachment of President Park Geun-hye and oppose the democratic and peaceful candlelight demonstrations. Analyzing the widespread emotions and narratives expressed by these older protesters, I argue that right-wing elites and intellectuals marshaled citizens by evoking historical experiences that aroused intense fear and outrage among older generations. In this chapter, I describe why the protests resonated so deeply with elderly citizens by focusing on their lived experiences during the Korean War and postwar industrialization and how the rise of new digital media inspired them to take to the streets on a large scale. Through grassroots organizing and by harnessing feelings of victimhood and fear among ordinary citizens, rightists cultivated a fertile ground for conservative mobilization.

Chapter 3 examines what the right’s institutional infrastructure has consisted of and how it has operated. Focusing on this right-wing infrastructure – the set of organizations, institutions, and groups essential to enable, maintain, and enhance rightist political goals and environment – helps us to analyze how different organizations play distinct but interconnected roles, complement one another (albeit conflicting at times), and reinforce their common political causes. During the authoritarian period (1961–87), the mainstream conservative party, state apparatuses, state-sponsored organizations, and conservative media were used by the governments to control citizens and promote state propaganda. Following democratization, state power was decentralized and the possibility of future military coups was eventually ended, but the democratic transition did not completely undo the ancien régime. I argue that, despite the overthrow of formal authoritarianism, the organizational infrastructures that helped sustain past regimes are still present in the post-authoritarian period and play a key role in perpetuating conservative values and obstructing social, political, and economic reforms. By describing how right-wing organizations and state institutions have interacted, formed a broad alliance for shared purposes, and served as the critical bedrock of the right-wing ecosystem, this chapter emphasizes the interactive and relational nature of right-wing entities.

Chapter 5 explores xiangchou as a materially and culturally embedded concept in the 2010s, which represented an ‘era of crises’ in China. The chapter frames crises as both the acute global COVID-19 pandemic, as well as through longer-term and more embedded ‘crises,’ categorized broadly as: the ’big city disease’, the existential crisis of meaninglessness, and the three-rural issue. Discursive analysis of various government text illustrates how different state organs can invoke the language of xiangchou to describe both a symptom of such crises as well as a response and potential remedy to these crises. Various case studies also demonstrate how feelings of homesickness and the inevitable separations from those ‘left behind’ can compel various forms of ‘rural return,’ but to varying effects and opportunities.

Using the case of the New Right movement in South Korea beginning in the early 2000s, Chapter 4 analyzes how far-right intellectuals – academics, journalists, writers, and political analysts – constructed reactionary historical narratives and discourses in the post-authoritarian period. Analyzing disputes over historiography in the last decade relating to Japanese colonialism (1910–45), the founding of the Republic of Korea (1948), and the Park Chung Hee regime (1961–79), New Right intellectuals contributed to generating historical knowledge and narratives to construct positive images of the past. I argue that, to solidify their influence, New Right intellectuals have proactively adopted the leftist strategy of targeting the cultural sphere, disseminating ideas, and building cultural hegemony. In doing so, they have sought to restore the right’s political legitimacy and symbolic power in a post-authoritarian context.

Who were the women of Meerut, said to have turned a nonviolent military mutiny – a refusal to load and fire a weapon – into a violent revolt that nearly toppled the British Raj? Were they prostitutes, or were they wives? There is much in the book to suggest the latter, but (ironically) that same evidence also suggests the simultaneous possibility of the former. This paradoxical formulation requires a more nuanced understanding of the nature of north Indian marriage in mid-century. A more fundamental question is: Did the women of Meerut exist? Or were they the product of overheated imaginations casting about for exculpation – on both sides of the racial divide? This necessitates a further examination of the two sources for the story of the Meerut women, or rather the question of their independent narrative origin. While the evidence militates in favor of their historicity, gender humiliation was already in the air: Even if they did not exist, they would be invented. They matter not simply because they enable us to add women to the mix of history (and stir, as the saying goes), but because they allow us to perceive something fundamental about the nature of history itself.