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This is the conclusion of the book. It reiterates my argument that in literature, risk is a necessary and creative force, an aesthetic category before anything else. It ends by proposing Franco–East Asian literatures as one form of world literature, one that is based on the aesthetic experience offered by particular texts, the potential for critical interactions between them and the imaginative comparison of literary traditions and areas that have traditionally been seen as separate.
This chapter engages with activist texts published by DMSC. In conversations with sex worker activists and staff members of the organisation, a reading of these texts are located at their collective organisational site in Kolkata. Through my reciprocal exchanges with the members of DMSC, I draw out the conversations which inhabit their ideas and practices of collectivisation. I show that the formation of their collective thinking emerged through sex workers’ conversations with public health practitioners and state officials in mid-1990s post-liberalisation India. These conversations informed women’s collectivisation in Kolkata as sex workers, or jouno kormi, to form mutual relations between sex workers’ lives and law. The women shaped their role and responsibility in public life as jouno kormi by forming DMSC as a registered society under state-authorised rules. In doing so, they reorganised the specific hierarchical relations of gender, class and caste experienced by sex workers in Kolkata. Mediated by such alteration of hierarchies, sex workers’ relationship to the Indian state was also altered and made distinct from the criminalised status and conditions that are accorded to sex workers by the Indian state.
On 4 October, at half past eight in the morning, Yang Kun went to the post office to mail a pictorial magazine; he did not return until after half past eleven. He then sat at his desk for over twenty minutes doing nothing, appearing as if he was contemplating or thinking about something. When the time came (at twelve o’clock), he went off to have lunch.
On 5 October, he sat at his desk working on a text. Also, on his desk at the time there was some stationery. On a scrap of paper that he had tossed in the lavatory waste basket, I was later able to make out the words ‘Comrades, we face a glorious task!’
This article considers the material practices of forging ‘Hindu’ spaces in colonial India, through an examination of a cremation charity’s movement against a mechanical crematorium in interwar Calcutta. Established around 1926, the mechanical crematorium was advertised by the municipality as a cost-effective alternative to traditional Hindu pyres, disposing of unclaimed corpses and dissected parts by employing stigmatized Dalit labour, in a region of the city marked for ‘offensive’ trades. However, by 1932, a cremation charity led by municipal councillors and Indian capitalists contested the existence of the crematorium, arguing that its technological process, labour practices, and location were an affront to Hindu sensibilities. This article examines the rise of the charity and the decline of the crematorium within the context of electoral politics, the politics of the location, and the broader impact on interwar labour crises and famines in Calcutta. By analysing the anti-crematorium movement, this article offers a colonial material history of the construction of the emotional resonance in ‘Hindu spaces’ in India, outlining how it emerged at the interstices of communal and caste boundaries.
In accordance with our great leader Chairman Mao’s teaching that ‘public security organs must conduct more systematic operational work’ and on the basis of stronger Party Committee leadership and implementation of the mass line, covert assets (henceforth to be uniformly referred to as informants rather than as agents) capacity building and utilisation of necessary technical operational instruments are to be reinforced so as to allow us to engage in covert struggle energetically as well as shrewdly and to effectively mitigate and strike at acts of sabotage by tewu, spies, and hidden counter-revolutionary elements. …
This paper explores how unrecognised separatist entities in Eurasia – de facto regimes such as Transnistria, South Ossetia, Abkhazia, Nagorno-Karabakh, and the Donetsk and Luhansk People’s Republics – engage with international law. It examines whether, and to what extent, these regimes comply with international law, analysing court decisions and legislation to move beyond simplistic views of non-recognition or assumed legality. The findings reveal that de facto regimes tend to mirror the international law approaches of the states they are most closely connected to – whether the territorial state (e.g. Ukraine) or an outside state exercising effective control over the entity (e.g. Russia or Armenia). This pattern is explained by the theory of “acculturation to statehood”: through sustained legal and institutional interaction, these regimes internalise and replicate the legal systems of their reference states. The study contributes to a more nuanced understanding of the role of de facto regimes in the international legal order.
This article considers British early nineteenth century attempts to reclaim Sagar Island, at the southwestern extremity of the Bengal delta, by clearing the island of jungle and settling and cultivating it—a project led first by colonial authorities at Calcutta and then by a joint-stock company established for the purpose, the Sagar Island Society. It considers the motivations behind the reclamation attempts, what they involved, and why they failed. The consequences – economic, human, and ecological—of the reclamation attempts are examined. The article reconstructs the almost entirely unknown history of events on Sagar Island from 1810 to 1833 through extensive new archival research and the study of rarely consulted publications from the period, before exploring their implications. In doing so, it sheds new light on the nature of British colonial capitalism and the environmental impact of British colonial interventions in South Asia, contributing to our understanding of the economic and environmental history of colonial Bengal and of the wider British imperial world. The article contends that events on Sagar Island offer a cautionary lesson about public and private initiatives to extend the frontiers of revenue extraction, and about the hubris of human efforts to ‘improve’ natural environments through large-scale projects of transformation. New insights are offered into the collusion between government and capital in British Bengal between the East India Company charter acts of 1813 and 1833, and into the colonial and capitalist origins of the Anthropocene.
This article draws on newly accessible primary sources to examine how, between 1983 and 1987, the Chinese Communist Party addressed the legacy of Cultural Revolution-era political violence in Guangxi. It focuses on a series of initiatives through which local authorities revised historical narratives, assessed political responsibility within bureaucratic frameworks, and documented past events through structured writing efforts. These efforts, the article argues, amounted to a form of contained transitional justice – a Party-directed, bureaucratically managed process of reckoning with the past that combined internal investigation, symbolic redress and controlled truth production. While resembling global practices of transitional justice in truth-seeking and victim rehabilitation, the process was tightly constrained by ideological priorities and excluded meaningful public participation. The Guangxi case, exceptional for both the scale of violence and the timing of its reckoning, offers insight into how authoritarian regimes manage traumatic historical legacies through disciplined yet symbolic mechanisms of historical clarification.