On a Saturday night in Leeds, I learnt something about pinball and psychoanalysis. By psychoanalysis, I don't mean dreaming and joking and slipping as revealing what is unconscious or the way that what happens in families affects how boys and girls develop, but rather some of the basic descriptions of thinking that were elaborated by Freud even before he used the term ‘psychoanalysis’ and that continued to underlie his accounts of how and why repression and free association work. There is plenty of pop-psychoanalysis around us now, but you will still not find much there, in popular culture, about quantities of excitation in the neurological apparatus. Descriptions of narcissism and sibling rivalry don't require us to think about neurology, but that is where Freud started speculating in his ‘Project for a Scientific Psychology’ (the title provide by the editors upon the manuscript's first publication in 1950), and if a lot of psychoanalysis was already there in that project, we need to understand how those representations of mind endured and how they are still here, still with us now.

Unlike the other more fantastic contents of psychoanalytic discourse that fascinate so many people in the media, the formal structure of the mind that Freud scribbled during a train journey in a letter to his friend Wilhelm Fliess – in a manuscript that was not published until after his death – seems like dull stuff.

This book presents a selection of poetry from 1872–1900, with Queen Victoria's Golden Jubilee year of 1887 serving as a ‘mid-point’. Most of the poems have been published before or in 1900, with two exceptions: Gerard Manley Hopkins, whose main body of work was published in 1918, and A. E. Housman's verse written after the trial of Oscar Wilde: composed in 1895; yet not published until 1937. A feature of these years is the quality and quantity of verse produced by less well-known writers alongside the established ‘major authors’ Tennyson, Browning, Gerard Manley Hopkins, ‘early’ Hardy and ‘early’ Yeats, and the traditional poets of the fin-de-siècle. Where possible, the poetry is contextualised in terms of the significant intellectual and historical forces informing the later phases of Victoria's Empire. In a poem discussed in the introduction, for example, Constance Naden speaks of Darwin as a ‘Seer, savant, merchant, poet’.

As is common with the agonies of selection in an undertaking such as this, it simply has not been possible to include every one and every thing. Though there are many poets here, the main criteria has been ‘quality rather than quantity’, as well as a conviction that, however modish the expectation, one can err by ‘overinclusion’. A favourite Venetian saying of Robert Browning's was ‘Tutti ga i so gusti e mi go i mii’ (‘Everyone follows his taste, and I follow mine’). Yet I hope that, among the hundred and fifty voices represented here, a characteristic and representative flavour of the intelligence of this period can be found.

Meeting the Daktars

This book is about daktari medicine. Simply put, daktari medicine was the name given to the medicine practised by daktars. But who exactly were the daktars?

The term itself, as we shall see in Chapter I, did not emerge until the second half of the nineteenth century. Even then they did not constitute a single homogenous group but were rather a composite group made up of many heterogeneous elements whose social status and pedagogical background both differed widely. Yet, after the 1860s the word daktar clearly referred to people who were thought to practise ‘western’ medicine. John Iliffe's comprehensive study East African Doctors: A History of the Modern Profession mentions the development of similar vernacular designations for some early African practitioners of ‘western’ medicine. In some cases the terms used to refer to them drew upon older ‘indigenous’ vocabularies, such as mganga or omusawo or, as in the Kenyan dakitari, the term was, like in Bengal, a vernacularization of the English ‘doctor’.

To what extent these daktars drew upon earlier traditions of South Asians practising ‘western’ medicine cannot now be ascertained with any degree of certainty. This much, however, is certain: South Asia had been exposed to ‘western’ medicine for at least two centuries before the term daktar emerged as a socially significant identity. Numerous European medical travellers such as Francois Bernier, Niocolao Manucci, Garcia d'Orta and John Ovington, visited Mughal South Asia.

Introduction

Decline in health and emergence of certain illnesses have been reported as the first category of cues or ‘body reminders’ of ageing in a study by Karp, 2000 (cited in Vincent, 2003) based on qualitative interviews with male and female professionals in America. Similar results have been found in studies on the aged in India, where decline in health status, restrictive activity pattern and being ‘inactive’ were associated with old age (Rajan et al., 1999). These perceptions of the aged are substantiated by empirical evidence which shows that a positive relation exists between age and morbidity among adults, i.e. at old age there is higher prevalence of morbidity implying that the risk of illness and morbidity is higher among the aged (Duraisamy, 2001). Further it has been found that as age advances the probability of disability also increases (Gupta and Sankar, 2003).

As men and women live longer there will be an increase in aged persons with chronic illness and disability which is a matter of concern for ageing individuals as well as health care planners of the society. Chronic morbidities and disabling conditions adversely affect the quality of life of the elderly. Poor health is a cause for concern among the aged as illness episodes have the potential to cause economic shock (Crystal et al., 2000), lead to financial dependency (Pal, 2004), loss of autonomy, reduced social contact and loneliness.

David Arnold has described the plague epidemic of the 1890s as an occasion for an unprecedented ‘attack on the body’. Plague, clarified Arnold, ‘was specifically identified with the human body and thus occasioned an unprecedented assault upon the body of the colonized’. Informed by the arrogance of what it believed to be ‘scientific’ practice, the British Indian state sought to intrude upon the colonized body as it had never done before. The forcible search and quarantine measures instituted by the government eventually led to widespread protests and violence and even the assassination of W. C. Rand, the Sanitary Commissioner of Pune. This account, however, has been largely based upon the experiences of the Bombay Presidency. Though mention is made of other regions across the subcontinent, the scope of Arnold's pioneering work did not include the interrogation of regional specificities. Ira Klein's demographic study of plague mortality and antiplague measures also focussed primarily on the western and northern regions of the subcontinent, while Ian Catanach's studies highlighted the ‘tensions of empire’ that the politics around the plague brought to the fore. Apart from the conflict between the Pune politicians, Catanach highlighted the differences within the European medical community. Rajnarayan Chandravarkar's study, based once again on Bombay, highlights the ways in which the ‘epidemic’ came to be constituted and the diverse and varied responses it evoked. He highlighted the absence of a generalized ‘Indian reaction’ even within the context of Bombay.

Introduction

Religion has become one of the most important focal points in the contemporary debate on democracy, democratization and conflict. The new consensus is that the project of transforming states and societies, and of spreading democratic culture and institutions–the democratization project– cannot circumvent a phenomenon taking place in the global South: the rise of religious politics and violence. Understanding how religious factors affect politics and conflict has become a prerequisite to understanding how peace and stability can endure in the global South.

Yet, we still lack the overall picture of how religious dynamics play out in violent conflicts, particularly in non-Western societies. A set of crucial questions is therefore left unanswered. What are the religious dimensions of armed conflicts? What kinds of issues are at stake in religious tensions? Are religious conflicts becoming more, or less, common? Are some religions more conflict prone than others? How has the landscape of armed conflicts changed over the decades?

This chapter sets out to find answers to these questions by exploring the religious patterns of armed conflicts in Asia, during the time period 1946–2005. The Asian region is an important part of the global South, and therefore a crucial region to study if we seek guidance for how the religious dynamics affect developing countries. In addition, this regional focus fills an important lacuna in previous research on religion and conflict.

I am looking up at the underside of a Greek chair. Interlocking fibres that form the seat are held in place by three strong cords running from front to back; there are wire supports diagonally linking the chair legs, and the lower front strut now almost touches my forehead. My head and shoulders are on the floor, and the rest of my body is curved up and back over my head so that my feet can rest on the chair seat. This is what I know as hellasana (more accurately, halasana), a shoulder-stand modified to work with props to support different shapes and states of body. But it could be worse. Iyengar yoga, unlike more energetic forms like ashtanga yoga, uses blocks and straps and mats rolled up so that anyone can adopt versions of the ‘asanas’, poses in which we stretch muscles we never knew we had before. And, here in north-west Crete, we have found extraordinary new uses for chairs; we sit sideways, pulling ourselves against the backs, lean back and grasp the sides of the seats, and we even rest upside down with our legs stretched up and heads hanging between two Greek chairs.

Yoga would seem at first glance to be one of the quintessentially spiritual-therapeutic components of New Age subcultures, promising inner growth in the context of meditative postures and a harmonic relation with one's newly discovered self.

Millions of people felt themselves being swept along by a tide of emotion following Diana's death – as if this were a collective process of shock, grief and mourning as much as an individual response, and as if those intertwined individual and collective feelings were always there, waiting to be released at a moment like this. They were not. But we live in a culture which is psychologically structured so that events of this kind evoke certain kinds of feelings about who we are and what our relationship with others is like, and then we feel them with such intensity that we imagine that they must be very deep, and necessarily true.

Rather than reveal some deep underlying psychological nature, however, they express the ways in which we have come to function as psychological beings – and, in particular, the way we absorb and display themes of unconscious emotions as subjects of a psychoanalytic culture. The week between the death and the funeral saw people represent themselves as psychoanalytic selves, and so it is worth reflecting on how this has been accomplished, so that we do not make the mistake of then reading these events as simply confirming psychoanalysis as universally true. We might then also understand better what is really going on.

One of the powerful psychoanalytic motifs of that fraught week was of a rising crescendo of feeling, and a sense that people were experiencing something overwhelming and barely comprehensible.

The word ‘ego’ has become part of everyday language to describe who we are. Sometimes the word evokes a little shiver of recognition, that it comes from the writings of Sigmund Freud, but often those hints at psychoanalysis – sexual repression, objects of desire, the unconscious, and so on – are wiped away so that the ‘ego’ can appear to us as something more innocent than it really is. When the word appeared in English as a psychoanalytic term (alongside the ‘superego’ and the ‘id’) it was actually designed by the translators of Freud to function as a more scientific designation of the everyday German terminology employed by Freud when he spoke of the ‘Ich’, which was our old friend, the ‘I’.

When psychoanalysts describe the bizarre ways that ‘I’ functions – piecing itself together out of images of significant others, splitting itself into bits that are held close or spat out, gluing the whole of our being to it and insisting that others are understood within its frame – it is actually more disturbing to keep in mind that this is what we build our everyday reality upon. This, already, is the stuff of fantasy, this ‘I’. The unconscious material that swells around its edges, and which we like to keep at a distance when we see it represented by those schooled in psychoanalytic theory, is already washing around inside our thoughts, colouring our perceptions of every object around us.

Purpose and Structure

The main aim of this study is to asses the challenges faced by the United Nations in its involvement in countries targeted by foreign military interventions that have not been authorized by the Security Council of the United Nations. The focus is on the United Nations' response to the outcome of the military interventions at two main levels. First, at the level of the Security Council and the decisions taken there on the nature and scope of the involvement of the United Nations in the post-intervention developments in the target state. Second, at the level of the target state, the focus is on the challenges that the United Nations may face in carrying out a given mission.

The structure of the study is as follows. First, the phenomenon of nonauthorized military intervention is defined and cases are selected. Second, the United Nations' responses to the selected cases are outlined. Third, the impact of the United Nations' response on its legitimacy is assessed.

Defining Non-Authorized Military Intervention and Selecting Cases

Non-authorized military interventions

The definition of a non-authorized military intervention to be used in the context of this study is the use of force by one or more states against the territorial integrity of a state against the will of that state, without prior authorization of the Security Council of the United Nations.

The world is passing through a phase of rapidly changing demographic conditions, predominantly, developing countries like India. The resulting slowdown in the growth of the number of children per couple along with the steady increase in the number of elderly persons per household has a direct bearing on both intergenerational and intra-generational equity and solidarity, which constitutes the basic foundation of human society. Population ageing results mainly from reduction of fertility, a phenomenon that has become virtually universal.

I congratulate the editors, Anthem South Asian Studies, New Delhi, for having brought out this timely publication, ‘Institutional Provisions and Care for the Aged’. This book provides interesting insights into the health care arrangements for the elderly, a topic of increasing importance globally, and it should attract the attention of all interested in the health care of the aged.

Population projections made in the book indicate that the number of the elderly would increase from the current level of 90 million to 298 million in 2051 and to 504 million in 2101. The growth rate of the elderly is much higher than the growth of the general population.

Recognizing the health care needs of the elderly, the Ministry of Health, Government of India, has decided to devote large sums of money to provide holistic care through the establishment of the National Institute of Aging.

Although in common parlance victims of forced displacement are often clubbed together as a single and monolithic category, there are significant variations in the nature and extent of victimhood suffered by them. Thus, the victims of development induced displacement constitute a category separate in many ways from those who have been displaced as a result of say, interethnic conflicts and violence. The first category of victims may have lost their homes or cultivable lands but may continue to subscribe to the same development paradigm and view displacement as one of its necessary costs that one should bear albeit with great pain, in the collective interest of the nation. The same person on the other hand, may look upon ethnic violence as simply macabre and senseless and hence detrimental to the nation and its development. It could as well be the other way round. One who finds ethnic violence as an inevitable and unavoidable means of asserting one's identity is unlikely to discover any virtue in the development of the nation as a vibrant, multicultural entity. The graded nature of victimhood therefore should not escape our notice.

COMMUNICATING RIGHTS CLAIMS

Accordingly, their rights can hardly be of one and the same type. One wonders whether it will ever be possible for us to evolve an agenda of rights common to all of them.

Introduction

Foreign direct investment has been studied for its impacts on development and its impacts on environment, but rarely for both at the same time. Despite an occasional nod to the environment, development scholarship as a whole tends to focus on economic goals—growth, industry upgrading or poverty alleviation. Environmental analysts, on the other hand, often take the economic benefits (or costs) of foreign direct investment (FDI) as a given and seek to uncover evidence of negative or positive externalities for the natural environment.

Using a case study methodology, this paper examines the impacts of FDI on sustainable industrial development—an integrated concept combining economic, environmental and social outcomes. We define sustainable industrial development as evolution along a three-dimensional path delineated by: (1) upgrading of the productive capacities of domestic firms; (2) employment creation, and (3) reduction of the ecological and health impacts of industrial growth and transformation.

For FDI to promote sustainable industrial development, transnational corporations (TNCs) must be linked to local firms, workers and consumers. In particular, they must generate—and host—country firms must absorb-two kinds of knowledge spillovers: technology and skills relevant to domestic industry upgrading and technology and management practices that reduce the ecological footprint of industry. A widespread and dynamic process of industry upgrading, in turn, generates high employment. Without spillovers, especially to local small- and medium-size firms (SMEs), the benefits of FDI tend to be narrowly concentrated in a few, usually urban, enclaves.

Purpose and Structure

The United Nations Security Council has become dramatically more active since the end of the Cold War. This is evident in terms of the number of resolutions adopted, particularly the number of resolutions adopted under Chapter VII of the Charter of the United Nations, as well as in the number of peacekeeping missions and mandatory sanctions regimes. The main aim of this study is to assess if this increased activity of the Security Council in the post-Cold War Era has been accompanied by a corresponding increase in the effectiveness of the Council. This is done by analyzing the pattern of Security Council reactions to the use of force in inter-state relations. The prohibition of the use of force, other than in self-defence, is one of the most fundamental rules that the Council is assigned the responsibility to uphold. We assess the Security Council's reactions to the use of force in inter-state relations through its pattern of reactions to foreign military interventions.

The structure of the study is as follows. First, the regulation of the use force in the Charter of the United Nations is described, and the main arguments of the international legal debate regarding these regulations are outlined. Second, the activities of the Security Council in the post-Cold War Era are presented. Third, the pattern of Security Council reactions to foreign military interventions is outlined. Fourth, the trends in Security Council behaviour are assessed.

21 Feb 2002

Dearest Aditi

How are you doing, hope things are fine there. You know, I really wished to deliver you better news than what I am writing here. I am sorry for not being able to write earlier, cos I was busy registering for the coming semester at the University. I am sure that you heard about the situation here, tension is increasing, and Sharon (the cow) is increasing things. The rise of the terrible and horrible situation meant to scare the Palestinians and to make them go back. 33 martyrs in 24 hours is a disaster, a catastrophe. Nothing would make them differentiate between a woman, a child, an old man, or anything else. You can say that the people here are full of fear, but they deeply believe that they have no other choice.

BACKGROUND

It is a well-known fact that in 1949, as soon as Communist China came into existence, it declared its policy to liberate Tibet and to do so the Chinese army marched into Tibet and defeated the small and ill equipped Tibetan army in 1950. As a result, the nationwide resistance by Tibetans culminated in the Tibetan National Uprising in Lhasa on 10 March 1959, demanding total withdrawal of China from Tibet.

The Tibetan National Uprising of 1959 made the Chinese furious and it sent its army once again into Tibet. This time, the Chinese army crushed the uprising with ruthlessness. About 87,000 Tibetans were killed in the Lhasa region alone, monks and the nuns were prime targets. As a result, on 17 March 1959, His Holiness the Dalai Lama along with his 13,000 followers escaped f-rom Lhasa and sought political asylum in India. On 31 March 1959, he arrived at Chuthangmo, an Indian checkpost in the border and from there he went to Tezpur.

The Indian Prime Minister Nehru strongly supported the Tibetan cause on humanitarian grounds. […] In this complicated situation, most of the political leaders from almost all parties, reacted sharply and asked Government of India to extend its helping hand towards Tibetans. As a result, the Government of India allowed another batch of mass exodus of Tibetan refugees, especially women and Children at Bombdilla on 20 May 1959. […] In the next few months, another batch of about 80,000 Tibetan refugees took shelter in India and its neighbouring countries, Bhutan and Nepal.

UN Secretary General Kofi Annan drew attention to ‘the growing problem of internally displaced persons’ (IDPs) in his 2005 report on UN reform, In Larger Freedom. Unlike refugees, IDPs do not cross international borders and thus have no well established system of international assistance or protection. IDPs, Annan wrote, ‘often fall into the cracks between different humanitarian bodies’. Despite this acknowledgement of the predicament of IDPs, nowhere in the 2005 UN World Summit document, adopted by heads of government in September, does it spell out how to improve the UN's ability to address the plight of the 20 to 25 million people uprooted within their own countries by violence, ethnic strife and civil war. UN reform must encourage greater national and international involvement with IDPs by promoting the Guiding Principles on Internal Displacement, giving the UN High Commissioner for Refugees (UNHCR) a broader role with IDPs, and strengthening institutional and military arrangements to defend the physical safety of IDPs.

The millions of people caught in the midst of violent conflict without the basic necessities of life present a political and strategic concern, not to mention a profound humanitarian and human rights problem, requiring international action. Conflict and massive displacement can disrupt stability, turn countries into breeding grounds for lawlessness and terrorism, and undermine regional and international security. […] Unless addressed, situations of displacement can create political and economic turmoil in entire regions.