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This chapter discusses Sheikh Abdullah and his often contrary attitudes to independence for J&K between 1946 and 1953. It also discusses his challenging relationship with New Delhi, which sometimes caused him to waver in his support for India and to contemplate other options for J&K, particularly independence. For New Delhi, the relationship was equally as challenging. While this relationship started positively, by 1953, there were many – indeed, too many – negative aspects. The assertive Abdullah was trying to ensure that ‘his’ state had as much autonomy and administrative distance from New Delhi as he could secure. New Delhi wanted the total opposite: for J&K, including Kashmir, to be ‘just another Indian state’ and for its residents, including Kashmiris, to be ‘ordinary Indians’. The turning point for Abdullah occurred in mid-1953 when New Delhi and some colleagues in Srinagar feared that he was seriously contemplating independence for Kashmir. By then, Prime Minister Nehru, who also had become disenchanted with the J&K Prime Minister, allowed Abdullah to be dismissed from office.
This chapter examines the political rise of Kashmiri nationalism from around 1924 until 1947 and, in particular, the overwhelming rise of one of its major proponents and political leaders, the ethnic Muslim Kashmiri, Sheikh Abdullah. Essentially, Kashmiri nationalism ‘re-awoke’ in 1931, partly, but not only, because of his significant actions, which made him a leader of Kashmir Muslims. Sixteen years later, when it was certain the British would be leaving India, Abdullah had become recognised as the undisputed leader of Kashmiris. He was then the most significant and, arguably, the most popular politician in J&K. Abdullah remained significant until his death in September 1982. He enjoyed great prestige and popularity amongst Muslim Kashmiris, both urban and rural. However, he was not as popular with non-Kashmiris and/or with non-Muslims, especially Jammuites and Ladakhis, and particularly after J&K joined India in 1947. Partly, this was because, for them, Sheikh Abdullah represented the Muslim Kashmiri identity and the aspirations of the Kashmir region, rather than acting as a unifying leader for the whole state. Abdullah’s political assertiveness would cause him problems on a number of occasions after J&K joined India on 26 October 1947.
This provides a brief outline of the book’s structure, discusses some terminology, and provides three reasons for writing the book. It also mentions three disputes that concern Jammu and Kashmir (J&K) and which reappear throughout other chapters in the book. The first is the intractable Kashmir dispute between India and Pakistan over which nation should possess the former princely state of J&K – or, since the late 1950s, how and where they should divide this disputed entity. The second is the dispute between India and its state of Jammu and Kashmir about this state’s integration into India. The third concerns whether residents within the geo-political sub-region of the Kashmir Valley, the real Kashmir after which the princely state took its popular name of ‘Kashmir’, want their region to remain with India, unify with Pakistan, or become independent from both nations.
This chapter examines Maharaja Hari Singh, his personality and influence, his regime and administration, and his options for J&K’s status in 1947. In particular, it looks at the option of independence for J&K and Hari Singh’s (non-)efforts to obtain this status, as well as the personalities and factors that ultimately ensured that he acceded to India in 1947.
This chapter examines the British Indian Empire, relevant aspects of its administrative structure, and the positions of India’s politicians and princes in the hasty and purgative – for the British, at least – decolonisation processes of 1947. It explains that, during 1947, there were differing ideas about the Indian princes’ legal positions and post-British options, including in relation to independence or otherwise, considerable politicking by politicians – all of whom were Indians until 15 August 1947 – and much uncertainty and upheaval for many subcontinetals, including J&K-ites. One of the most significant of these J&K-ites was Maharaja Hari Singh, the person charged, and empowered, to decide J&K’s post-British future by making an accession. As this chapter explains, the British decolonisation of their substantial Indian Empire in 1947 enabled him to seriously contemplate and envisage independence for J&K.
This chapter provides important historical and social background about J&K and its administrative structure, as well as some geo-political observations about this princely state. It explains why the princely state was popularly, but confusingly, called ‘Kashmir’ not ‘Jammu’, why the Kashmir region was the most important region in J&K, and why, in 1947, subcontinental politicians desired Kashmir and wooed Kashmiris. The chapter’s other observations chiefly concern the Kashmir region and Kashmiri Muslims’ relationships, or not, with other J&K-ites. In particular, this chapter comprehensively explores the significant and ongoing issues of Kashmiri identity and Kashmiri nationalism and why these are important factors within J&K. The discussion includes examining why Kashmiris have long believed in, and supported, a Kashmir ‘nation’. This dynamic is important to understand as it helps to explain why Kashmir enjoyed greater status and was more significant politically in 1947 than either the Jammu region or the Frontier Districts region. In that tumultuous year, the major ramification of Kashmir’s importance was that people were focused almost exclusively on this region and its residents. The other areas of J&K appeared to be peripheral. Additionally, in 1947 and thereafter, Kashmir and Kashmiris quickly came to dominate politics in J&K and in relation to the Kashmir dispute.
How should we measure the time of a Maoist campaign? What is the legacy for its authors and for China today? This concluding chapter reviews the major themes of the book. It also explores the tensions between linear and circular conceptions of time, how they shaped the Hundred Flowers and Anti-Rightist campaigns, and what this watershed period in modern Chinese history can tell us about the agency of the writer in contemporary China and the role of literary circulation in the perpetual reimagining and rewriting of the Chinese state.
Can individual writers change the national climate? Following Mao’s comments on the “poetry case,” Liu Shahe and Shi Tianhe took divergent paths in dealing with the local literary establishment and finally with the shift from Hundred Flowers to Anti-Rightist campaign. Their strategies in response to the unfolding campaigns reveal that the year 1957 marked a critical transformation in the way Chinese writers perceived the relationship between their own use of language and the social reality of which, and into which, they wrote. The “poetry case” also taught Mao and the Party leadership that a liberal policy toward literary production and loosened censorship did spur creativity but fostered the growth of linguistic and social networks that they could neither mediate nor compete with in kind.
The final chapter looks at how Sino-North Korean relations changed after the Cold War. Both sides continued to find the idea of Sino-North Korean friendship useful even as they went in very different political and cultural directions during the 1970s and 1980s.
This paper argues that, while the famous “first shot formula” represents the dominant interpretation for the application of common Article 2(1) of the Geneva Conventions, its application in the case of unilateral use of lethal force for the targeted killing of military personnel in the territory of a third state is not compatible with the requirements of humanity and the object and purpose of these treaties. The paper contends such an operation will not ipso facto trigger an international armed conflict between targeting state and the state of the targeted person. By examining the elements that constitute an international armed conflict, the paper proposes a new criterion for determining the beginning of such a conflict in cases of targeted killing of military personnel in the territory of a third state.
Although battles have usually been analysed to study state formation, they can also be examined to understand socio-cultural processes in the empire. The Battle of Dharmat (26 April 1658), which occurred during the famed Mughal War of Succession (1657–1659) that led to the accession of Aurangzeb Alamgir (r. 1658–1707), was a landmark moment in Rajput history and memory. Rajput clans serving in the Mughal army at Dharmat commissioned vernacular literary-historical works to put forward competing claims to martyrdom, bravery, clan, and caste pride. Particularly, Dharmat provided an opportunity for minor clans to establish their fallen leaders, like Ratan Rathor, as heroes, especially after the prominent Rajput king Jaswant Rathor fled the battlefield. The Rajput retellings of the battle deliberated questions surrounding masculinity, loyalty, sacrifice, and qualities underpinning the ideal martial Rajput identity. The contrasting portrayals of the ‘martyr’ and the ‘deserter’ at Dharmat represented a conflict between personal virtue and failure, capturing the chasm between honour and disgrace in the Rajput socio-political and cultural sphere. By drawing on Dingal poetry, Marwari chronicles, Persian literature, and the accounts of foreign travellers, this article unravels how a Mughal battle became a site for rehearsing normative Rajput caste ideals in seventeenth-century India.
In the People’s Republic of China, according to Mao Zedong himself, literature was to serve politics. But where did the ideas of politics come from, and how did they circulate throughout the state? This book is an exploration of the literary aspects of a political campaign and how literary practice shaped Maoism and the Chinese state. The spring of 1957 found China in the midst of a great bloom. Floral themes and imagery permeated texts across genres of poetry, journalism, political speeches, and fiction. They decorated covers of literary journals, fabric for dresses, and even architecture. Where did these flowers come from? What happened to them in the second half of the year during the Anti-Rightist campaign? This chapter introduces the major questions of the book through the story of the young Shanghainese poet Xu Chengmiao. Through Xu’s poetry and life we explore the flowering of China and the broader question of how individuals participated in Maoism.