The Leave vote gave voice to those whose dissatisfaction had been muted by the rules of UK electoral politics. It represented, amongst other things, a howl of protest from people who had given up on the political process and who turned out to demand that they should no longer be overlooked. In so doing, they transformed our politics. The referendum catalysed a division in British politics which, while not new, had hitherto not structured party competition decisively. That role had been played by class. As Peter Pulzer famously put it, ‘class is the basis of British party politics; all else is embellishment and detail’. However, the 2016 vote saw similar proportions of left- and right-wing voters opt for Leave (52% and 48%, respectively). People were divided not by class but by social outlook, with 72% of social conservatives but only 21% of social liberals voting to leave.

This chapter describes how dependence on coffee and other primary commodities exacerbated foreign dependency, especially during fluctuations in global primary commodity prices. The chapter discusses the Rwandan Patriotic Front’s (RPF) origins, including the key paradigmatic ideological foundations of the party while discussing the civil war and the 1994 genocide. The chapter ends by outlining three periods of the evolution of political settlement under RPF rule. Between 1994 and 2000, RPF loyalists were rewarded, while there was increased concentration of power among Tutsi RPF members. In the 2000s, until the early 2010s, RPF leadership centralised control among a smaller clique within the RPF, with increasing elite fragmentation characterising this period. In the third phase after the early 2010s, there has been increased external reliance, and the visible threat of transnational coalitions, comprising RPF dissidents and disenchanted domestic elites, has emerged but been contained.

Chapter 6 looks at the ways in which frenzy was weaponized during the many religio-political upheavals of the period. As a figure of speech, it offered rich material for English polemicists, who knew that questioning their opponents’ sanity was more effective than simply refuting their claims. As a literal diagnosis, frenzy also had a practical use: it could silence politically inconvenient people without making a show. This chapter shows how its conferral was used to justify the incarceration of prophets, mystics, and kings. Yet the diagnosis had one serious drawback: it gave its recipients the gift of innocence. Frantic persons were incapable of crime, and could neither be convicted nor punished for their actions. If a recipient later became not just inconvenient but too dangerous to live, any previous diagnosis – no matter how spurious – had to be redacted from the record. This was a problem for the religious polemicists too: the aim was to pathologize ‘heretics’ ‘papists’, ‘puritans’, and ‘sectarians’, not to excuse them from all wrongdoing. Eventually, this chapter argues, that flaw drove Anglican polemicists to abandon frenzy for a new diagnosis: ‘melancholy enthusiasm’.

This chapter investigates the ways in which Percy and Mary Shelley engaged with the idea of witchcraft. In The Witch of Atlas Percy Shelley playfully poses the question: what if God (or Christ) was a witch with a sense of humor? Like her mother, Mary Wollstonecraft, and other Romantic-era women, Mary Shelley was suspicious of representations of female magic. All her novels chronicle how women who have or pretend to possess power, supernatural or otherwise, are inevitably sidelined or written out of the narrative by the men they love and the collusion of the social and historical contexts in which they find themselves. The chapter concludes with an extended analysis of her novel, Valperga, arguing that the introduction of the figure of the witch enables Shelley to finish the novel that she struggled with and to find a way to avenge the wrongs done to the other two female characters.

This chapter considers reprints as new editions and insists that they offer the clearest indication of an author or play’s popularity. I explore the accessibility of Shakespeare’s plays between 1660 and the turn of the century, place quarto playbook publication in the context of late seventeenth-century politics, and highlight how traditional periodization, folio-centric scholarship and attitudes toward abbreviated and altered playtexts have distorted our view of the print history of Renaissance drama. I argue that Shakespeare’s unaltered plays were not recognised as marketable print commodities until c. 1681, a development reflected in publishers’ willingness in the 1680s and 1690s to not just publish his plays but also risk facing the consequences associated with pirate printing ventures. The chapter intervenes in long-standing debates about the causes and measurability of Shakespeare’s popularity and his relationship to authorship, genre, and the canon in the late seventeenth-century book trade.

While Ginsberg was certainly influenced by earlier generations of writers stretching back to the Metaphysical Poets, contemporary writers were also instrumental in helping him craft his own poetic vision. Foremost among them was his friend Jack Kerouac, who became a source of inspiration, guidance, and mentorship for Ginsberg throughout his life. This chapter explores the twenty-five years of profound yet tumultuous relationship that developed between the two writers, from their encounter in New York City in 1944 to Kerouac’s death in 1969. While their passionate and sometimes turbulent friendship sparked Ginsberg’s creative energy, Ginsberg drew heavily on Kerouac’s themes and stylistics – including his writing method of “spontaneous prose” – which became central to his own poetical voice. Though their relationship eventually fractured in the 1960s owing to political differences and rivalry, Kerouac continued to play a crucial role in shaping Ginsberg’s growth both as a writer and as an individual.

Chapter 1 introduces the phenomenon of “democratic drain” – the steady depletion of democratic political capital in migrant-sending countries worldwide, derived from the departure of citizens who hold more liberal democratic values than the countrymen they leave behind. It contextualizes democratic drain in the more established understanding of “brain drain,” outlines its analogous consequences, and identifies the dissidents and “demigrants” that drive it. Just as brain drain can leave countries poorer and less productive, democratic drain can weaken the prospects for liberal democracy and reduce barriers to democratic backsliding by authoritarian governments. After a brief discussion of the thorny implications of “democratic drain” for international development and democracy promotion, this chapter previews the book’s findings and content.

This chapter investigates Pindar’s construction of the relationships by which communities are constituted: relationships between families, individuals, and the polis; between the inhabitants of the polis and their past; and between different polis communities.  It surveys civic values, as well as the passages where Pindar discusses specific constitutional forms.  Because Pindar’s lyric expresses political issues through the lens of poetic concerns, assimilating civic and military conflict to vicissitude, it maps some of the strategies by which Pindar subsumes the political into the poetic.  A final focus is the nature of Pindar’s Panhellenism and the connection of Panhellenism to elite mobility.  Pindar’s Panhellenism projects competitively local claims for eminence into a broad Greek arena and characterises the mythico-historical past of Greek cities as one of migration and elite movement. The interaction of local identity with the Panhellenic arena is thus driven by the mobility of heroic and then athletic elites.

As the Framers anticipated, factions remain a powerful force in American politics. The founding generation disagreed about much, but there was a broad consensus that factions, the inevitable companions of democracy, lead to democratic excess and the abuse of power. Ironically, the factor most responsible for the continued influence of factions and particularly for the dominant influence of majority faction has been the steady democratization of the American constitutional system. The Framers would not be surprised. The best prospects of constraining the negative influences of faction are restoration of the balance between state and national powers and acceptance of the need for constraints on simple majority-rules democracy.

Pindar the thinker’ is not a common notion in his criticism; some stubborn prejudices may account for this state of affairs, as well as misleading modern connotations of the word thinker. He was in fact one of the great minds of his day, a sophos of the first rank. This chapter explores his thought in two spheres of activity – politics and religion – and seeks to identify his unique contribution to and outlook on these topics (which were closely interrelated in Greek life). Pindar’s lavish use of gnomai (maxims) affords a convenient guide to both because Greek thought often took gnomic form, and the interpretation and adaptation of traditional wisdom were the mark of the sophos. The paper also charts Pindar’s connections with writers we tend now to label the Greek philosophers.

The present chapter attempts a comparative analysis of three different legal systems and their approaches to environmental law, contributing to the extensive literature on this area of law in numerous areas of the world such as the United States, Europe, and the Middle East. However, that literature appears to have had little coverage of the treatment of environmental law in Islamic law, one of the three main global legal systems together with common and civil law. The bold spread of Islamic tendency in the Middle East that followed the so-called “Arab Spring” assures major changes in the political and economic sphere, including environmental and natural resource levels. Environmental threats are very pressing all over the world, as the Earth needs to be protected through the adoption of universally applicable legal rules and the right to a healthy environment needs to be elaborated on in international instruments. Man’s position in the universe is premised on two principles: the stewardship of man which means that man is not only a creature but also God’s khalifa (steward) on earth.

The interplay of life, form, and power is central to Ralph Waldo Emerson’s seminal essay, “Experience.” It also comes to mark his mature articulations of metaphysics and philosophy, nature and history, and politics and ethics in essays like “Power,” “Success,” or his lecture “Powers of the Mind.” Power is a key theme across Emerson’s relentlessly eclectic thinking – from the creative potentialities of the imagination and the intellect, and the deforming forces of love and loss, to the conditions that embolden individual selves to mastery, invention, and success. The impulsive, circulatory, transitory, depersonalizing, and yet aggrandizing modes of power that emerge in Emerson’s thinking – the powers of the heart and the powers of the mind – point to a vitality that not only appears as the content of his essays and lectures but is at once stylistically performed by them.

In the early days of the twentieth century, missionaries from the United States were in a spiritual battle for the hearts and minds of Brazilians. As a result, in 1901, the Baptists founded “O Jornal Batista.” Four years later, the Catholic Church established its first paper, “A União.” In their pages, these papers reflected the spiritual battle that was being fought. A significant part of the struggle focused on the idea that the United States was either a civilizing agent (“O Jornal Batista”) or an agent of barbarism (“A União”). Social and political topics gripping the northern country, such as lynching, racism, and prohibition law, were regular topics of discussion in both papers. This chapter aims to provide a brief discussion of the significance of these debates and their meaning in the context of North American missions in Brazil, especially in the northeastern part of the country. The sources highlight how locals used religion to understand and articulate changes in local political dynamics as well as the various ways Protestantism changed the parameters of local political debates.

José María Samper (1828-1888) was born in the provincial town of Honda, Colombia. A prolific author, he combined his writing activities with politics, journalism, and teaching. In his earlier career, Samper became prominent within a young generation of radical liberals who advocated universal and direct suffrage, the separation of church and state, and the abolition of the standing army. In 1855, In what was perhaps one of the first usages of the expression “Latin American,” Samper proposed the formation of a federation of Spanish American republics to defend their emerging “democracies” and their interests from the ambitions of the European monarchies, the Brazilian Empire, and US expansionism (Reflexiones sobre la federación colombiana, 1855). “Colombia” was the name Samper gave to his proposed union. Later in his life, however, Samper tempered the radicalism of his youth and moved closer to the Conservative Party. Yet in the convention that adopted the 1886 centralist, “conservative” constitution, Samper’s interventions revealed that he continued defending key liberal principles. Samper’s selected passages in our volume come from his earlier liberal phase.

Provincial governance was never of great interest to Roman administrators or jurists. This begins to change only when jurists increasingly became administrators exposed to provincial claim. Jurists had to begin thinking about provincial contexts as raising important questions of governance - in particular, that key assumptions about law might be different in a world marked by extractive governance. Key among these is the late second/early third century jurist Ulpian of Tyre. Ulpian begins the process of transforming governance from an array of untheorized practices into something amenable to traditional juristic analysis. As a successful administrator, he did this knowing that such an account was otherwise lacking. His magnum opus, On the Office of the Proconsul, can be seen as an attempt to capture what was distinctly provincial about provincial governance. But Ulpian’s key text can also be read as a response to the challenge of provincial legalism.

The epilogue examines the persistence of the term ‘achievements’ in Egyptian governmental media today, which is indicative of the concept’s resilience. This persistence raises an important question around the social and historical reasons undergirding the continuity of achievement praxis. Why are cultural and media institutions reproducing the achievement state in Egypt? The answer would seem to be that the current bureaucratic apparatus inherited, via institutional means, certain ways of thinking and working established after the 1952 revolution. This simple answer belies my ethnographic experience, because contemporary bureaucrats – with few exceptions – have a very faint sense of the history of the bureaucratic apparatus prior to their own entry into the workforce. A more likely answer, I suggest, is that the institutional context within which bureaucrats work did not change in some identifiable ways since 1952. The continuity of achievement praxis is tied to the institutional environment in which it thrives, rather than a conscious will among state officials transmitted across generations.