This chapter examines the response of the metropolitan government to the challenges posed by the British Empire, and specifically to New South Wales and the Cape Colony, between 1815 and 1836. It emphasises the Colonial Office's concern simultaneously to control the governors of crown colonies, to limit their power, while maintaining their authority. The Colonial Office's response to the contemporary enthusiasm for good government can be seen in a number of projects mooted or implemented in the 1820s and early 1830s. Even in the 1830s, when the great reforming events encouraged public and parliamentary scrutiny of colonial affairs at unprecedented level, their treatment by the Colonial Office was often fragmented and inconsistent. The crisis in the Colonial Office during late 1835 would largely destroy the delicate, but critical, networks of communication on which crown colony governance relied, without leaving an obvious alternative.

This chapter charts the topography of the British film industry in the 1920s, when Anthony Asquith began his film career. Asquith entered the film industry in the mid-1920s, towards the end of the troubled silent period when the production industry in Britain was in decline in the face of competition from the American film. The industry struggled to find a position in the market and seemed to many on the brink of extinction. The 1928 Cinematograph Films Act effectively laid the foundations for a British production industry by, among other provisions, requiring exhibitors to screen a number of British films as part of their annual schedules. It was also a period marked by ‘a lively engagement with issues of film criticism and aesthetics’, which was stimulated in part by the new adventurous films from Germany, France, the Scandinavian countries, and the Soviet Union. Tell England (1931), the much-delayed project about the Gallipoli campaign during the First World War, was to be Asquith's first sound film proper, though, as with Shooting Stars, he was to work in collaboration with another experienced figure. British Instructional had proved to be a congenial context for the start of a career in film making; the next phase of Asquith's career was to prove somewhat more problematic.

This chapter considers the way the colonialconstructions of subjectivity—within a post-colonialcontext—affect the way women and men judge theirposition in the world and within Britain. Itexamines the forms of behaviour that are consideredpossible in light of those constructions. Thischapter also reviews the topics that were discussedin the previous chapters.

This introductory chapter discusses the process bywhich spatial relations are considered classed,raced and gendered within the imperial and colonialcontexts. It notes that the focus of the study is onthe period of ‘high’ British colonialism during thelast few years of the nineteenth century. Itconsiders the question of spatiality and explainshow the book—and the study—developed. It examinespost-colonial theory, this book's theoreticalposition, and the concepts of space and spatialrelations. This chapter also identifies thedifferent levels of colonial space and discusses thepublic and private spheres, the contact zone, thesexualisation of space, and gender and space.

The word ‘immigration’ is not mentioned in the US Constitution but it allowed for a naturalisation process, permitted immigrants to hold all offices, except that of president and vice president. Early congressional leaders realised that increasing their control over territory required people and, therefore, they encouraged immigration. In 1808 Congress ended the importation of slaves and in 1819 it legislated that immigrants be counted at all ports. Just over forty years later, the Supreme Court ruled that immigration was ‘foreign commerce’ and could be regulated by Congress. But it was not until the ineffectual Page Act in 1875 and the creation of a dedicated bureaucracy in the 1880s, that consistent congressional interest in the issue emerged. At a popular level, however, anti-immigrant movements appeared, particularly during the 1840s, which produced state-level efforts to restrict immigration.

This chapter takes a look at the way that colonialarchitecture structures the way that spatialrelations are considered. The discussion focuses onthe domestic architecture of the bungalow and theimpact this had on the social relations betweenIndians and the Anglo-Indians. This chapter alsoanalyses the specificity of colonial public anddomestic architecture, while focusing on the waythat these forms of architecture evolved out of acomplex relationship with both indigenous andmetropolitan styles of architecture.

The Tax Inspector is Peter Carey's most savage novel to date, and it captures Karl Marx's vision of the ravening effects of capital. The book takes us full circle back to the power-crazed psychopathic business world of 'War Crimes', but with the unsettling awareness that this is no longer fantasy. Carey paints a vitriolic portrait of social decay and disintegration, the collapse of communal ethics and the sheer rapacity of the business world consequent upon the global market economy of the late 1980s. As in Bliss, he links together two areas of urgent concern, rampant capitalism and child sexual abuse. The brutal story-line is matched by an urgent narrative, almost filmic in intensity, which, along with the urgency of the social issues, marks a dramatic and adventurous shift of direction for Carey's fictional practice.

1. Aim and structure of the conclusion – After having responded in detail to the two components of the book's central research question, namely with regard to (1) the adequacy as a legal basis and (2) the potential operationalisation of the suggested positive due diligence component attached to the customary duty of non-assistance obliging home states and competent international organisations to ensure that their corporate nationals do not render aid or assistance to the maintaining of illegal occupations in the previous chapter, we thought it useful to, on a concluding note, take a step back and put the book's findings as such under scrutiny. What follows is a vetting exercise of the book's findings, in which we aim to provide an overview of both the strengths and challenges the conducted research has unveiled. We start by highlighting how this book has proved to be of added value to provide an additional, adequate legal avenue for home states and competent international organisations to address potentially harmful business conduct in or pertaining to illegally occupied territories on the international plane – both from an academic, legally-scientific perspective, as well as in light of resolving practical issues regarding potentially harmful transnational business activities on the ground (see infra, s 2.). Secondly, we will explain that this legal avenue, by grounding mandatory home state regulation of potentially harmful business conduct in or pertaining to illegally occupied territories on states’ and competent international organisations’ customary duty of non-assistance, is, in and of itself, not sanctifying and presents certain challenges of itself (see infra, s 3.).

This chapter shows how United Nations (UN) democracy emerged and was shaped by the increasing democratisation of member states. It suggests that the vision of democracy—elections—which emerged in the late 1980s/early 1990s only describes a historically distinct phase of the creation and legitimisation of a new UN idea but also represents a particular institutional as well as ideological practice and understanding. This chapter also identifies the political and social changes that provided the impetus for a new international dimension of democracy, which enabled the creation of a UN democracy agenda.

This chapter describes how the competing ideas of diaspora might inform the understanding of Irish and Scottish overseas settlement within the Empire and elsewhere. It also investigates recent representations of Irish and Scottish settlement in Australia and Aotearoa/New Zealand. The changing narratives of place constructed by Irish and Scottish emigrants and their descendants reflected the strength of each individual's continuing sense of origin as part of their evolving diasporic selfhood. Recent scholarship has emphasised the limited sense of ethnic solidarity displayed by Irish communities. The image of the enterprising, pioneering Scot may well have been a necessary myth of empire. Patrick O'Farrell's emphasis on the importance of place in the construction of human identity closely resembles our own, save in its overwhelming essentialism. The flows of ideas, information, people, goods and capital which articulated the Empire continuously transformed the geographical contexts within which places were imagined and enacted.

This chapter investigates the ways in which Irish and Scots place identities were mediated through discursive religious practice. It also addresses the nature of the religious networks which linked the major Irish and Scots denominations throughout the Empire. The policy of fostering Irish clericalism within the Catholic Church in Australia constituted one discursive network linking Australia and Ireland with other parts of the Empire. Churches were among the most important of all focal points for communities. Churches and other buildings attracted meanings that continuously changed according to time and circumstance. The Irish Catholic Church's transformation under the leadership of Cardinal Cullen privileged explicit missionary enterprise. Religious sites of the sort described here constituted an important part of the ever changing mosaic of semiotic meaning inscribed as place in the Australian landscape by hegemonic and subaltern groups in the white migration stream.