This chapter traces the role of folk music in the changing mediascape in North America from the 1940s to the 1960s. Beginning from Jürgen Habermas’s well-known notion of the ‘public sphere’, the essay locates the folk revival at the intersection of new spaces (Greenwich Village) and new media (the long-playing record). It shows how the technology of the LP made possible juxtapositions of songs from all over the world. With the Weavers, the Kingston Trio, and Peter, Paul and Mary, we see the emergence of folk music for a largely white college-educated public. This history shifts with the emergence of folk ‘stars’ Joan Baez and then Bob Dylan. At the same time the manipulation of the recording studio, in the work of Paul Simon and the Byrds, gives folk a new relationship to rock music. We then see how the comedy duo of the Smothers Brothers picks up on the political energy of folk music and blends it with the new medium of television at the end of the 1960s. These technological developments shape folk music as a force in the political culture of the era, from Martin Luther King to the Women’s Movement.

This chapter interprets Tocqueville’s thought in the context of the political discussions that took place during the French July Monarchy (1830–1848). It begins by exploring how the ruling liberal elite, including figures like François Guizot and Adolphe Thiers, responded to the radical republicans’ arguments about direct popular sovereignty and democracy. This confrontation sets the stage for understanding Tocqueville’s arguments about the people’s two powers in Democracy in America (1835–1840). In that text, Tocqueville criticized the idea of government by public opinion, which was advocated by his liberal contemporaries. Meanwhile, he rehabilitated direct popular sovereignty, as exercised at the local level in the New England township, interpreting it as the beating heart of political democracy and a source of “public spirit.” The concluding section considers how, faced with the impossibility of recreating the American township in France, Tocqueville began to look for alternative sources to foster “public spirit” in his home country, including the colonization of Algeria and the creation of great opposition parties.

The notion of political compromise in party democracy is a cornerstone of Kelsen’s democratic theory. In the legislative, he argued, one party (or several parties) constituting a majority need(s) to somehow get along with a party (or several parties) in the minority if democratic government is to work and last. However, this vision goes against common sense understandings of what it means to have a democratically elected majority; it is also likely to raise some eyebrows among majoritarian theorists of democracy. This chapter explores whether Kelsen’s central idea can possibly be redeemed. Unlike Kelsen’s multiple critics in contemporary democratic theory, it argues that his account of compromise rests on numerous ambiguities that leave it underdetermined on both normative and institutional levels. It also argues and demonstrates that the most plausible understanding of Kelsen’s imperative to compromise rests on the notion of respecting the members of parties in the minority as co-rulers – an intuition derived from a Rousseauian conception of democracy as collective self-rule and adapted to societies characterised by persistent conflicts of interest and moral disagreements. It concludes that, despite its shortcomings, Kelsen’s valorisation of political pluralism, in the legislative and in the public arena, remains an important source of arguments for a time often characterised as a ‘crisis of democracy’ and in the face of rampant anti-partyism.

This chapter explores the earliest insular texts featuring the prophet Merlin, and his Welsh original, Myrddin. From the uses of the name ‘Myrddin’ as a prophetic authority in early Welsh prophecy, to the appearance of ‘Merlin’ in Latin histories and hagiographies in the twelfth century, this chapter details the early literary life of the foremost prophet of the Arthurian tradition. It acknowledges the development of the Arthurian Merlin as the product of multiple, and potentially multidirectional, lines of influence between insular languages, centring on two related figures first conflated by Geoffrey of Monmouth: a northern wild man prophesying in the Caledonian Forest a generation after the age of Arthur, and the child prophet from Carmarthen who interprets the mystery of the red and white dragons in the age before. This is read in relation to wider insular traditions concerning prophecies of national deliverance, and early Welsh references to the prophet ‘Myrdidn’, whose own early legendary biography remains obscure.

This chapter examines a range of Arthurian poems in alliterative verse, including Awntyrs off Arthur, Sir Gawain and the Green Knight and the Alliterative Morte Arthure. It argues that while the works are diverse in tone and content, there is a consistent thematic preoccupation with the relationship between Arthur and his nephew Gawain. Through a close reading of the presentation of the characters, it suggests that the alliterative poems – despite their differing treatments – display a certain anxiety about King Arthur. By implicit comparison with Gawain, elements of Arthur’s character are often found wanting.

In a time of great contest and confusion over the future of democracy as a governing principle, the example of Abraham Lincoln continues to provide encouragement and direction about democracy’s viability in the face of immense challenges. In The Political Writings of Abraham Lincoln, Allen Guelzo brings into one volume Lincoln’s most famous political documents and speeches from his earliest days as a political candidate under the banner of the Whig Party, to his election and service as the first anti-slavery Republican president, from 1861 to 1865, and the nation’s leader in the fiery trial of civil war. While many anthologies of Lincoln’s political documents routinely concentrate on his presidential years or only on his anti-slavery writings, Guelzo concentrates on documents from Lincoln’s earliest political activity as an Illinois state legislator in the 1830s up through his presidency. The result is an accessible resource for students, researchers, and general readers.

According to Dazai Shundai, techniques of political economy must be based on the models of the ancient Chinese sage kings. In order to apply these models to present-day Japan, it is important to draw proper analogies between ancient Chinese and later Japanese phenomena and to use appropriate terminology in describing Japanese phenomena.

This chapter presents case studies of Indigenous peace agreements in the Andes region. It begins with an introduction that highlights the significance of understanding legal geography and its relevance to Indigenous peoples. It then explores the legal frameworks that protect Indigenous rights, focusing on international instruments such as declarations and conventions. It then examines specific agreements in the Andes that enact these legal frameworks, with a spotlight on the National Agreement for Development and Peace in La Araucanía, 2018, in Chile, and the Agreement Between the Bolivian Government and the Confederation of Indigenous peoples from the East, Chaco, and Amazonia in 2010. These case studies showcase the intersection of legal, social, and political dynamics in promoting Indigenous rights and fostering peace. By analysing the legal geographies of these agreements, the chapter contributes to a deeper understanding of the complex challenges and opportunities Indigenous communities face in achieving sustainable development and peace in the Andes region.

This paper aims to assess the cogency of Hume’s famous argument against testimony for miracles. Hume starts by arguing in favour of a “general Maxim” which involves balancing the strength of the testimony “considered apart and in itself” against the inductive unlikelihood of the reported event. But although this reasoning shows real insight – anticipating what is now known as the “base rate fallacy” – it turns out that such a separation cannot work, and an adequate maxim must inevitably take into account the specific nature of the reported event when evaluating the epistemic strength of the testimony. There is also a deeper problem with Hume’s argument, which arises from his treating a miracle as an extreme example of an inductively unlikely event. For the believer can agree that miracles are inductively unlikely – or even physically impossible – whenever the world is proceeding normally. Where she will differ from Hume is in claiming that divine activity can interfere with the natural order, and can sometimes be identified through its purposive nature. Naturalist philosophers – like Hume – are likely to reject this, but their best argument for doing so comes not from theoretical probabilistic maxims, but from the hopelessly unconvincing track record of miracle reports, combined with the lack of evidence for divine purpose in the world (as revealed so artfully by Hume’s Dialogues).