For analytical purposes, the Burtonian approach is divided into three categories in this chapter: the entry decision, behaviour within the workshop structure and the behaviour of the facilitator. Before studying John Burton, the theory of rational choice needs to be examined. The rational choice approach can be seen to be a subgroup of J. Habermas's teleological model. It offers a model of optimising behaviour, or, as psychologists see it, the rational choice paradigm is a heuristic device for interpreting behaviour. Burton bases his explanation of entry on rational choice theory or, more generally, on a model of strategic action. The strategic action model which relies on the notion does not investigate the beliefs and motivations of actors, but imputes them for predictive and explanatory purposes. By employing a rational choice framework, Burton presupposes non-arbitrary access to the objective domain of behaviour on the part of the researcher.

The ultras reflect a paradox in contemporary football. On the one hand, increasingly commercial clubs enjoy the passion, colour and spectacle that the ultras provide through their performances and this helps market their clubs. On the other, clubs and authorities seek to regulate certain aspects of ultras’ behaviour, including violence, anti-social chanting, use of pyrotechnics and anything that challenges their power. This conflict unifies and emotionally sustains the ultras and provides a critical focus for their activities. These emotions fuel the politics of the social movement of Against Modern Football. In effect, it creates what Albert Camus called a ‘fatal embrace’ where both sides are incapable of uniting and are willing to fight until the end.

This chapter examines the role of emotions in securitisation theory and first provides an overview of how emotions are currently integrated in securitisation studies. The chapter then theorises securitisation as an affective practice which is affected by the indirectness and remoteness described in Chapter 5. The chapter also looks at the ways in which gender and the myth of protection play out in the field of security professionals. The chapter argues that securitising Islam indirectly sustains the myth of American innocence and paints America as the ‘true victim’ of 9/11 insofar as the indirectness removes the affective experience that usually accompanies securitisation processes. This chapter thus looks at the securitisation of Islam in an all-encompassing way by adding texture to the analysis of the securitisation of Islam; that is, by including the role of the body, affect, emotions and space, which are central to the proliferation of Islamophobic attitudes in the United States.

The book’s opening analysis of queer interethnic desire involves the work of Hanif Kureishi. The chapter undertakes a new reading of Stephen Frears’ My Beautiful Laundrette under the auspices of ‘queer phenomenology’, probing the film’s blurring of private and public bodies and spaces and its assemblage of individual perspectives challenging racism and ethnic exclusivism. The chapter proposes that the film’s queer micropolitical disorientation challenges the essentialist identity categories dictated by mainstream dominant ideologies, as well as colonial social hierarchies and neoliberal Thatcherite ideologies. Meanwhile, it also focuses on how female Muslim sexuality and gender non-conformity also subverts Muslim and South Asian gendered spaces in the diaspora. It performs a queer phenomenological analysis of the film’s closing scenes, where the violence suffered by queer bodies in queer spaces generates trust between different factions of British society, hence micropolitically blurring the lines that segmentalise the nation’s ethno-religious communities. The subsequent analysis of The Buddha of Suburbia argues that queerness is forfeited for the sake of joining the dominant cultural mainstream, and that the truly transgressive queer characters are those who oppose normative values in the margins of British society.

The introduction expands on the rationale, aim and layout of the book. It also the develops the core concepts of the book, such as image, art world, borderlands, and image ecology. The notion ‘art world’ emphasizes that the distinctions between art and non-art are constructed by diverse agents and institutions. Moreover the term ‘borderlands’ is used to defy the idea that there is a definite demarcation or border between what is ‘inside’ and ‘outside’ of the art world. The term image ecology serves as a metaphor for a desire to understand the interrelationships of things such as the nature of change, adaption and community and as a way to locate how and why images operate in certain ‘environments’ or systems of meaning. Finally the introduction posits the book in the long tradition of image studies and also in recent development within media studies, particularly studies on mediatization and media archaeology.

The introduction establishes the puzzle of the study, by questioning how it is possible for US administrations to securitise Islam with a language of amity and peacefulness. The chapter reaffirms that while a lot of anti-Muslim prejudice and racism is overt, studies on averse and covert racism within the context of the war on terrorism have been more silent. The chapter illustrates the logic of covert language through the children’s story ‘No is yes’. The chapter then sets the goals of the book. First, the book aims to unpack the paradoxes of the securitisation of Islam, which stem from the contradiction between counterterrorism practices that discriminate minority groups and living in a society that is averse to racism. The second goal of the book seeks to theorise the affective process of indirect securitisations in order to add texture to the analysis of the securitisation of Islam. The chapter finally situates the study within a wider body of literature on the role of affect and emotions in the social sciences, critical counterterrorism studies and quantum theory.

Following Britain’s referendum over continued membership of the European Union (EU) in June 2016, the future status in the UK of nationals of other EU countries has become the subject of intensified political debate. Meanwhile, EU nationals from central and eastern Europe have been subject to xenophobic attacks as part of a wider post-referendum spike in racist abuse. This chapter is concerned with local-level struggles by nationals of central and eastern European EU countries for a ‘right to the city’. It uses the case study of Peterborough, where relatively large numbers of migrants have travelled to settle and work. The demands made by international migrants for voice and representation in city governance and for housing and workplace justice can be seen as struggles over the nature of citizenship at the scales of the factory, the warehouse, and the neighbourhood, as well as the city. In the context of ongoing, multi-scalar, quasi-colonial governance of ‘difference’ in Britain, this chapter argues that such citizenship struggles need to be understood alongside (and in relation to) those of other working-class people. These include long-term residents, migrants from elsewhere in the UK, and both ethnic minorities and the white British ethnic majority.

The chapter considers the history of women in independent Ireland, up to the period of the emergence of Edna O’Brien in the early 1960s. It explores the representation of women in modern Irish literature since the time of W. B. Yeats and the Irish Literary Revival, outlining the rejection of the Revival in the work of James Joyce and other writers. It analyses Edna O’Brien’s creative response to these romantic (Yeatsian) and modernist (Joycean) traditions of Irish literature and pays detailed attention to O’Brien’s description of girlhood, romance, female sexuality, colonialism and violence. O’Brien is discussed in relation to the key works The country girls trilogy; her two volumes of memoir, Mother Ireland and The country girl; and some of her recent fiction.

This chapter proposes that queer diasporas are inverted in Ferzan Özpetek’s debut feature film, Hamam (1997), exploring the experiences of an Italian man in modern Istanbul. This chapter undertakes a reading of Hamam which interrogates the film’s use of the Orientalist homoerotic spatial trope of the Turkish bath. Whilst the film has been deemed as perpetuating European imaginaries about the sensually and sexually alluring Orient and of the civilising ‘white saviour’, the analysis demonstrates that the homosocial spaces of the eponymous hamam remain micropolitically transgressive, productively re-inscribing same-sex desire onto contemporary Turkish culture. Character connect across ethnic and national divides, at a remove from the Italian protagonist’s inherited Catholicism, and from the clandestine workings of Kemalist and Islamist homophobia illustrated in the film’s denouement. The chapter suggests that Hamam does not victimise the figure of the abandoned wife whose husband has turned towards men, but that she continues the architectural restoration work her dead husband started in a manner that does not equate the film’s exploration of male queerness with a silencing or ignoring of women’s perspectives.