This paper examines the political and cultural context of the popular 2010 revival of the light comedy theatre production Sanullim in North Korea. The play, originally written and performed in 1961, portrays the spirit of revolutionary optimism as the characters resolve an unhostile conflict and unite to expand socialist production to contribute to overcoming the (real-life) political and economic crisis of the Chollima era. The 2010 revival of this propaganda responded to similar political and economic crisis, and was designed to instil confidence that the present crisis would be overcome as successfully as in the first Chollima era, provided that people could conjure the same revolutionary optimism. This paper examines why this particular play was revived over others from the Kim Il-sung era, and its particular potential to serve as effective propaganda during the transition from military-first to party-first policy in the Kim Jong-un era, in reference to parallels between 1961 and 2010. The play immerses the audience in the dramatic situations through verisimilitude to the lives of the audience, though the emotional excess of the characters is often exaggerated. Such laughter ignited by dramatic irony contributed to creating a heightened ideological thought of the audience who would spontaneously (re-)internalise the communist human character. The revival of the play was the most appropriate choice according to the object of justification of the succession of power from Kim Jung-il to Kim Jung-un.

This article explores how the concept of post-traumatic stress disorder was developed and debated during the wars of Yugoslav succession 1991–1995. It focuses on the rich, wide-ranging, and complex psychiatric and psychotherapeutic discussions of war trauma in the post-Yugoslav space, arguing that arguments about PTSD became a site for expressing political tensions, controversies, and anxieties that could not otherwise be addressed or identified.

This research explores how Yugoslav psychiatrists tailored the language of PTSD to their own particular clinical and political needs, infusing it with local assumptions and experiences, often radically changing its original meaning and intentions in the process. Moreover, the article engages with discourses of psychological trauma in Eastern Europe and the socialist world, which remains a neglected topic. It examines how the post-WWII and socialist-era psychiatric discourse and silences were reinterpreted and worked into the psychiatric-political attempts to make sense of the wars of Yugoslav succession.

As one of the world’s only constitutions to recognize Theravada Buddhism as the state religion yet not include a religious exemption to the universal franchise for its monastic community, Cambodia’s Constitution stands out as an anomaly. This article traces the ways in which the realities of this remarkably inorganic approach to religion—enshrined in Cambodia’s Constitution in 1993, pursuant to a heavily internationalized peace process—have subsequently been shaped by debates occurring within Cambodia’s Buddhist institutions, rather than judicial ones. Drawing on data derived from archival research and a series of ethnographic interviews conducted during 2017 and 2018, I home in on decades-old debates about the voting rights of Cambodian monks to show how individual monks justify their participation in electoral politics through a mixture of both secular and religious arguments. The on-the-ground reality of the extension of the franchise to the Buddhist clergy in Cambodia, in other words, is ultimately shaped by an ongoing contestation within the sangha, with proponents and opponents of a religious exception grounding their arguments simultaneously in constitutional and theological vocabularies. The article sheds light on a singular constitutional arrangement—a unique relationship between religious and state institutions that has so far received relatively little scholarly attention—and highlights an instance of constitutional practice that occurs beyond the reach of both judicial and other state institutions.

This article analyzes phenomenon of “migrant schools” and “migrant classes” in schools that began to emerge in the 2010s in Siberian cities of Tomsk and Irkutsk. The study is based on 120 interviews with migrants and 36 express-interviews with parents of children from both local families and those that have migrated from Central Asia, as well as case studies of four schools in these two cities identified as “migrant” by local residents. Despite the ethnic diversity of these Siberian cities where most families themselves descend from migrants from other regions, the local population singles out new migrants from the countries of Central Asia as “others” in the urban space. While school administrations, teachers, and parents reproduce the narratives of tolerance and ethnic diversity, school segregation persists in these cities, manifested, among other things, in the emergence of “migrant” schools and “migrant classes” in schools. This study presents this segregation as an outcome of strategies pursued by school administrators and parents of both local and migrant children. In particular, creation of “migrant” classes in some schools is the school administrators’ response to the lack of adaptation programs for migrant children. I conclude that rather than assisting the socialization of migrant children, such schools reproduce their isolation from other pupils, limiting their ability to succeed in the future.