To save content items to your account,
please confirm that you agree to abide by our usage policies.
If this is the first time you use this feature, you will be asked to authorise Cambridge Core to connect with your account.
Find out more about saving content to .
To save content items to your Kindle, first ensure no-reply@cambridge.org
is added to your Approved Personal Document E-mail List under your Personal Document Settings
on the Manage Your Content and Devices page of your Amazon account. Then enter the ‘name’ part
of your Kindle email address below.
Find out more about saving to your Kindle.
Note you can select to save to either the @free.kindle.com or @kindle.com variations.
‘@free.kindle.com’ emails are free but can only be saved to your device when it is connected to wi-fi.
‘@kindle.com’ emails can be delivered even when you are not connected to wi-fi, but note that service fees apply.
This chapter investigates the logics of punishment that animate the AKP’s new securitisation technologies. Examining the different yet recurrent tools with which academics in Turkey have been historically expulsed from educational institutions, the public sphere, and the political body, I develop a nuanced understanding of the interconnected yet changing forms of punishment directed at academics as knowledge producers from the early Republican period to the first two and a half decades of the twenty-first century. In keeping with the literature on changing regimes of punishment, I conclude that the logic for penalising those targeted has shifted from compensation in the early Republican era to a securitised logic of retribution (following the 1980 coup), to a cruel form of retributive securitisation in the form of subjection to civic death in post-2016 Turkey.
While there are many vital words at the heart of Indo-American histories, Indian, caste, and thug are all uniquely connected to Indo-American relations – and to the struggle for democracy in both countries.
—Nico Slate
Black Americans and Indians built many connections to combat White supremacy and they positioned the Black American and Indian struggle as part of a global movement for equality, as W. E. B. Du Bois and Lala Lajpat Rai commonly emphasized. They utilized each other to modify their aspirations for their respective societies and achieve a meaningful social impact, particularly in the US. However, this impact largely occurred after Indian independence through the efforts of Black radicals such as Du Bois, Paul Robeson, and William Patterson who identified India as a source of sympathy for the Black American cause because Indians were similarly victimized by White supremacy under the British Raj.
Caste was not a colonial invention and, therefore, the end of British colonialism did not result in its annihilation and some caste elements of British colonialism have remained in India. One of the most striking parallels regarding how African Americans and Dalits remain marginalized is the persistence of “criminal castes.” Although some low-caste Indians could access education, land, and better jobs during the British Raj, occupational specialization was generally accepted as a defining characteristic of castes and tribes, even to the extent of defining certain tribal communities as “habitually” criminal under the Criminal Tribes Act. Originally passed by the British government in 1871, the British used the act to categorize some communities across the country as “born criminals,” irrespective of their criminal precedents. The act required adult male members of such groups to have weekly meetings with the local police and they were not allowed to leave their villages without permission. The categorizations had no basis in criminal evidence and were merely based upon racial and caste stereotypes. The British government initially proposed the act to reform “born criminals” through labor. However, when these “born criminals” attempted to make a living like members from other castes, they struggled to find work outside the settlement because of public prejudice and marginalization.
The Introduction reviews the widely shared understanding of Schopenhauer as an apolitical thinker. It then articulates the challenge to this view. Schopenhauer, this book argues, defined politics as the rational management of perpetual human strife. The Introduction lays out the two main steps for recovering the full scope of Schopenhauer’s political thought. First, his attitude to politics must be historically contextualized. Against the backdrop of his era and the political ideas of other thinkers, the individual profile and polemical significance of Schopenhauer’s conception of politics come into view more clearly. Second, his textually dispersed political ideas must be assembled into a recognizable whole. Many of Schopenhauer’s reflections on political skills, values, ideologies, and regimes can be found in sections that do not explicitly deal with politics, and his core conception of politics becomes visible through a series of contrasts between politics and religion, politics and morality, and politics and sociability.
The eighteenth century was a time of change. Some elites responded by forging new relations with layfolk mediated by Sindhi poetry (Chapters 4 and 5). These communities were not regional, which is to say they were not Sindh-wide. Rather, they were local, rooted, in the case of Hashim, in Thatta, and, in the case of Latif, in Bhit. At the same time, they were networked more broadly. Hashim's descendants moved out to Oman and Gujarat. His contacts extended all the way to the Hijaz. Latif, in turn, enjoyed recognition in Kachch and Jaisalmer. Unlike Mir Masum and Yusuf Mirak, their networks did not follow the circuits of the Mughal state but rather moved along different infrastructures of communication.
Under Ghulam Shah Kalhoro, the state had intervened in favor of these new experiments. Ghulam Shah had passed Hashim's decree in 1759, enforcing a form of Sunni public order in Thatta while also patronizing Latif's tomb sometime after Latif's death in 1751. Historically based in upper Sindh and Balochistan, the Kalhora had not cultivated close ties with the elites or people of Thatta and lower Sindh. Between 1757 and 1761, Ghulam Shah was forced into lower Sindh as a result of a succession struggle with his brothers. His patronage was most likely meant to build ties here in the context of fraternal conflict. These overtures may not have been wholehearted. In 1759, Ghulam Shah ordered the construction of Hyderabad, a new Kalhora capital in lower Sindh, passing over Thatta as a base of power. Yet the literary innovations of lower Sindh left an impact. During the reign of Sarfaraz Shah (1772–75), Ghulam Shah's son and successor, Sindhi poetry was incorporated into courtly culture, marking a major milestone in Sindhi literature.
It was another eighteenth-century resident of Thatta, Mir Ali Shir Qani (d. 1788–89), who synthesized the diverse developments of the century into an overarching vision of regional social order, connecting individual with region and Thatta and Sindh with the rest of the world. Qani belonged to a landholding sayyid family from the city. His
The evolution of banking regulation and banking crises are highly intertwined. The post–World War Two period was marked the globalisation of banking and increased banking instability. This initiated a trend towards harmonised frameworks for banking regulation, leading to a common framework for measuring capital adequacy in 1988 (Basel I). The path towards the Basel framework in 1988 was very different in the United States, the United Kingdom, and Switzerland. When statutory capital requirements were introduced in Switzerland in 1935, most banks were indifferent. This indifference changed towards the end of the 1950s, when capital regulation became a bottleneck for growth. The United Kingdom lacked the experience of a solvency crisis during the 1930s, resulting in capital in banking becoming an almost irrelevant topic. It took until the secondary banking crisis in 1973/4 for banks’ regulation to be reconsidered. The United States did experience a deep banking crisis in the 1930s but introduced statutory capital requirements only in the 1980s, following increased domestic banking instability and the threat of potentially high losses from the Latin American debt crisis.
Chapter 5 focuses on the enforcement of credit contractual agreements and questions the meaning of trust in credit networks. Despite the norms of solidarity, cooperation, and fairness that characterized pre-industrial society, breach of agreement did occur. When lenders and debtors had exhausted all the possibilities available to settle their disagreement, taking the matter to court was often the last resort. The aim was to recover the money owed, but often the emotional and social implications of a lawsuit went beyond the simple economic dimension. Throughout the period, the burden of debt increased rapidly, as well as the number of discontented creditors. The apparent dichotomy is intriguing: on the one hand, financial arrangements were flexible and renegotiable, but on the other, contract enforcement at court was sought after. These lawsuits are rich sources of information for the historian. They highlight the shortcomings and failures of debtors, and the (im)patience of creditors. But above all, they display the dynamics of complex and multiple layers of social and economic relationships. Overall, this chapter reconstructs both transactional and dispute resolution practices in
Capital/assets ratios in banking declined substantially during the two world wars. Three drivers severely impacted the capitalisation of banks. Banks invested heavily in government debt, which led to an expansion of balance sheets. High inflation ratios devalued the paid-up capital of banks. Moreover, formal and informal constraints restricted banks from issuing capital in wartime. The Second World War, in particular, had long-lasting effects on the evolution bank capital. The United Kingdom controlled capital issuances after 1939 and reinforced the financial repression of banks. The Swiss Banks operated in a regulated but much more liberal framework. In the United States, the belief in informal capital requirement guidelines was very pronounced. By the mid-1930s, the United States had already three federal bank supervisory agencies, which all had developed opinions on how capital adequacy was assessed. However, the rapidly growing government debt in banks’ balance sheets overturned these conventions, leading to the first risk-adjusted measurements for capital and triggering the development of new measurement approaches that became the forerunner of the Basel I guidelines.