When Germany occupied Denmark in April 1940, Danish opposition to the persecution of its Jewish minority was clear from the outset. As the occupation progressed, many individuals and groups vied for influence on this issue, including the King, the church, public figures, German officials in Denmark and the Danish Nazi party. The uneasy cooperation between Denmark and Germany held until August 1943, before collapsing in acrimony. The Nazis then sought to take advantage of the crisis to deport the Jews. The Danish people, however, mounted an extraordinary resistance to thwart their plans. The chapter examines the daring rescue of the Jews and the creation of a safe passage to Sweden. It also explores the fate of those who were captured and deported to Theresienstadt; and those children who stayed behind in hiding in Denmark. The next section of the chapter seeks to understand these exceptional experiences. It considers what made the rescue of Danish Jewry possible, and what were the leading factors that contributed to this outcome. Finally, the chapter concludes by considering how this case study can contribute to our understanding of what promotes resilience to genocide.

There is no doubt that the Bulgarian Jewish population was at extreme risk of genocide during the Holocaust. At one stage, the cattle cars were literally waiting at the station to begin deportations. Bulgaria, a Nazi ally, introduced discriminatory laws targeting its 48,000 or so Jewish citizens, who experienced escalating persecution. Jews in Bulgarian-occupied Thrace and Macedonia were denied Bulgarian citizenship and deported to the death camps in early 1943. At the same time, the Bulgarian government approved a secret plan to commence deporting Bulgarian Jewry. Yet through an extraordinary series of events, political and public opposition forced the planned deportations to be repeatedly postponed, and ultimately abandoned. In this way, almost the entirety of the Bulgarian Jewish population survived the Holocaust. This chapter examines the key factors that led to their survival. It considers the role of the government, politicians, the church and ordinary Bulgarian citizens in contributing to this outcome. The chapter concludes by reflecting on the insights for genocide prevention that can be gleaned from this case study.

This chapter explores the influence of Jamaican music and culture on the origin and development of hip-hop in the US. With roots reaching back to Jamaican sound systems and Nyabinghi drumming, hip-hop inspires a new flowering of Afrofuturism as Black resistance to colonial authority. The example of Jamaica’s Maroons, Afro-Caribbean freedom fighters, clarifies its strategy of cultural resistance: to seize and secure space for a Black future of living free. As hip-hop’s early innovators – DJ Kool Herc, Afrika Bambaataa, and Rammellzee, among others – adapt the Jamaican sound system to new colonial territories, they use music, dance, raps, and tags as weapons to create spaces of freedom in the oppressive world of the Bronx in the mid 1970s. This legacy of Afrofuturism informs the ensuing history of hip-hop, half a century of Black musical creativity that extends from Brother D and the Sugar Hill Gang through X Clan, Public Enemy, and NWA to Dr. Octogon, Deltron 3030, Janelle Monáe, Ras G, and beyond.

The final section reflects on the future of white supremacy, challenging the notion that it is an intractable, unchangeable force. While acknowledging its stubborn persistence over three centuries, the final reflection argues that describing racism as “timeless” or “complicated” often serves to justify inaction. It points to recent global protests following George Floyd’s murder as evidence of growing solidarity across different justice movements. These intersecting struggles against various forms of oppression – from police violence to denial of indigenous land rights – suggest increasing recognition of how different systems of power reinforce each other. The conclusion emphasizes that major social systems have fallen before, and encourages readers to imagine a future beyond white supremacy without limiting themselves to short-term or small-scale thinking.

This chapter examines the historical emergence of white supremacy and race-based slavery in colonial America, challenging any assumption that white supremacy preceded and caused the transatlantic slave trade. English colonizers initially followed Spanish precedents in enslaving both Native Americans and Africans without racial justification, similar to historical practices of enslaving prisoners of war since ancient times. The transformation to race-based chattel slavery occurred primarily between 1660 and 1700, driven by two main factors: the desire for a completely captive labor force for brutal sugar cultivation and fear of slave revolts. This shift was codified through new laws that made “blackness” rather than enslavement the mark of being essentially lower, effectively creating both a slave race and, by extension, a master race. This evolution was neither inevitable nor unopposed, seeing resistance from enslaved people themselves and criticism from some English colonizers who viewed slavery as morally wrong. The emergence of white supremacy is thus a historical construction intimately tied to the development of early capitalism, particularly through the sugar industry.

This chapter shows the evolution and tenuous persistence of white supremacy from the middle of the twentieth century to the present. It begins by analyzing racial terrorism and lynching in the USA. It connects these acts of violence to broader patterns of economic exclusion and political dominance across English-speaking societies. The analysis reveals deep connections between American segregation and Nazi Germany, demonstrating how racist ideologies reinforced each other globally. While civil rights movements achieved significant victories, white power structures adapted through subtler forms of oppression, including discriminatory policing, housing discrimination, and coded political messaging. The chapter shows how anti-colonial and civil rights movements worldwide recognized their common struggle against a global system of white supremacy. The election of Barack Obama marked a crisis point, triggering an intense backlash that culminated in Trump’s presidency and Brexit. These recent manifestations of white nationalism, while politically successful, may represent desperate attempts to preserve a crumbling system rather than signs of strength.

The introduction begins a comprehensive examination of white supremacy, defining it as both a system of racial dominance and the ideology that justifies it. It emphasizes that white supremacy manifests itself not only through overt racism but also through inaction, false inclusion, and seemingly benevolent actions. The introduction explains the book’s focus on the English-speaking world, citing the British Empire’s role as the largest force in creating and maintaining white supremacy globally. While acknowledging that other empires developed their own forms of white supremacy, it argues that the British case is distinctive because of its scale of human trafficking and settler colonialism. The text stresses that white supremacy is neither inevitable nor natural, but is historically constructed, and therefore can be dismantled, despite powerful forces maintaining it.

Using a sensational case of murder from 1899 as a lens, this chapter explores how little the Belgian capital’s authorities really knew about and how little they actively engaged with what they referred to as la pédérastie. It shows that the police lacked both the mandate and the means to focus on something they clearly deemed a minor nuisance. Unlike in Britain and Germany, homosexual relations between consenting adults in private were not illegal. Unlike in France, where the legal situation was similar, Belgium’s more decentralized make-up impeded the formation of effective and efficient law enforcement authorities even in big cities. No unit epitomized the growing pains of an underfinanced police force in a booming city more than the vice brigade. Policing sex in public was difficult and unrewarding. As the records of dismissed cases reveal, the police and the courts regularly found themselves instrumentalized in the settling of personal scores and they were often forced to retreat in frustration over mutual or unverifiable accusations. Most exasperating of all was the insurmountable wall of secrecy, solidarity, bribery, and obstructionism they faced when dealing with the queer world.

While victim participation in transitional justice has often been subject to critique, victim movements have also actively expanded and reshaped the field, using its framework to advance increasingly diverse justice struggles. This introductory chapter adopts the lens of ‘victims-as-protagonists’, emphasizing the central role that victim-survivors have played in shaping transitional justice from its inception. It explores the macro-level dynamics that have amplified focus on victims’ roles in scholarship and policy, and maps key strands of existing literature. Against this backdrop, the chapter introduces a new conceptual framework of ‘generations of victim participation’, offering a more comprehensive account of how victims’ agency has shifted throughout three discernible phases: from grassroots activism, to institutional participation, and multi-faceted forms of resistance. Rather than presenting a linear progression, this framework foregrounds the overlapping and intersecting strategies through which victims pursue justice today, and how this calls for a rethinking of transitional justice’s boundaries and methodologies.

In the 1850s planters envisioned not a metaphorical but an actual “plantation future” pleasured in the society that slavery built. They enjoyed what would soon be called “conspicuous consumption” when they bought possessions for their households, patronized the arts, and supported other activities that reinforced the culture of white supremacy. Yet they knew that deep inequality threatened social stability. In East Feliciana, leaders auctioned white paupers and their labor, used the Overseers of the Poor to assist the impoverished, and even doled out fellowships to medical school. Meanwhile enslaved persons drew on existing internal resources to protest the planter’s future in real time. As they survived and gossiped, dared to experience Black joy amid unspeakable suffering, set fires and ran away, they situated the Felicianas within a world of abolitionist activism.

Victims’ demands for reparations are epitomised as a non-violent resistance to the violence they have suffered. The chapter explores how victims resist state narratives, coercive tactics, and violence in their claims for reparations, reflecting on the long-term impact of such resistance. Drawing on interviews with over 100 victims across six case studies, the chapter develops three themes around resistance: social mobilisation; self-repair; and the struggle for reparations. It examines various forms of non-violent resistance, including bottom-up approaches, documentation of violations, and the creation of subalternate perspectives. The chapter also addresses the role of social movements in reparations, emphasizing the dynamic process of collective identity formation, grievance framing, and the negotiation of justice. In conclusion, the chapter underscores the importance of understanding reparations as a multi-faceted struggle involving legal, political, and social dimensions, and the need for continued advocacy and research to address the complexities and challenges faced by victims in their pursuit of redress.

This chapter explores the rise of the graphic narrative in Africa – starting with cartoons and comic strips and culminating in contemporary graphic novels and popular comics series. It outlines three key historical developments in the genre. It further argues that comic strips were vehicles for the colonial enterprise: they occurred in colonial journals and magazines in the 1930s/1940s and reflected colonial ideology through mimicry and racial stereotype. Second, cartoons and comics became important tools in anticolonial movements, such as in Nigeria in the 1950s/1960s and apartheid-era South Africa from the 1950s to the 1980s. Cartoons turned satire and mockery back on the colonizer, while comics were used to subvert the visual language of colonial oppression and to encourage resistance. Finally, didactic comics and graphic narratives (pamphlets, posters, and free-standing albums) have formed part of government policy and development work from the 1990s to the present day. This history has informed present day production. Contemporary graphic narratives combine rich local visual traditions with global trends to negotiate identity, politics, and social change. The chapter ends by examining four examples of more “serious” graphic novels, histories, and memoirs that are indicative, rather than representative, of the diversity of contemporary production.