International Studies Association Book Deal

When women have full socioeconomic citizenship as well as equitable and respectful partnerships with men, transformative justice can be sustained in postconflict societies

In Women’s Work, Jennifer Moore presents a reimagined theory of peacebuilding and transformative justice based on the experiences and insights of women farmers and microentrepreneurs who lived through protracted civil conflicts, drawing on seven years of interviews with women activists across ten communities—five in the Acholi region of Northern Uganda and five in the Moyamba and Koinadugu Districts of Sierra Leone. Despite the important differences between the preconflict and conflict histories and demographics of the two countries, Moore finds commonalities in the practical, yet visionary, approaches to community life emerging from the core values, daily activities, and long-range goals shared by rural cooperative members in both regions.

Collective survival, communal healing, and conflict resolution define the rhythm of these women’s daily lives as they go about building peace, piecemeal. They reject punitive retribution models and demand, instead, a peacebuilding model that advocates for advances in material well-being, the acknowledgment of state accountability for community suffering, and reconciliation and restoration of community networks. But most important, Moore amplifies these women’s voices when they insist that legal equality for women and healthy partnerships between women and men are also essential components to enduring transformation of their societies.

Moore theorizes what peacebuilding look like if it were modeled on these women-led, matriarchically structured communities that proved not only to be effective at holding governments accountable but also to have the capacity to feed their people and revitalize their local economies. Women’s Work shows that when women have full socioeconomic citizenship as well as equitable and respectful partnerships with men, transformative justice can be sustained through the arts of collective livelihood, violence-free conflict management, and celebration.

Analyzes the impact of International Conflict Feminism’s alliance with powerful global institutions

In this book, Vasuki Nesiah tells the story of the astonishing uptake of International Conflict Feminism (ICF) in the most powerful institutions of global governance. ICF refers to a repertoire of policy agendas and legal strategies allied with those institutions to focus on women’s vulnerabilities, fight impunity for sexual violence, and promote women’s roles in peace-building processes. ICF emerged from feminist networks anchored in the Global North that gained momentum in the aftermath of the Cold War. Although this volume offers a testament to ICF’s remarkable success, it also analyzes how this success was intertwined with the defeat of alternative visions and agendas, including a range of dissident and heterodox feminisms that were eclipsed as ICF gained traction.

Emerging from Nesiah’s dual occupations in academia and international law and policy practice, International Conflict Feminism shows how centrally the ICF agenda has shaped fields such as peace building, international criminal law, transitional justice, and post-conflict economic policy. Each section pauses at different sites in the international governance architecture to analyze the distributive impact of ICF and its allied global policy agendas to examine what is privileged, legitimized, and empowered, and what is subordinated, marginalized, and further excluded.

ICF is a project of ideas and passions, legal proposals, and policy orientations. Today, when the most powerful countries of the world are describing their military, economic, and political interventions as a “feminist foreign policy,” the task of understanding and assessing the ICF project is especially urgent. Nesiah argues that, rather than obfuscating and denying the power of the ICF agenda, grappling with ICF’s power is essential to achieving solidarity with feminisms that don’t have a seat at the table, in particular those dissident feminist traditions with priorities and interests that challenge the dominant world order and its injustices and hierarchies.

Examines the politics of expertise in the practices of peacemaking in post–civil war Lebanon

Based on multi-sited ethnographic research centering on Beirut, but tracing international peace work as far as Switzerland and the United States, Master Peace examines the politics of expertise in the application of metropolitan theories of violence and practices of peacemaking in post–civil war Lebanon. Through ethnographic encounters, archival research, and interviews that shed light on the worlds of academic research, UN agencies, NGOs, and think tanks, Nikolas Kosmatopoulos argues that so-called experts, from violence researchers to peace professionals, have often misrepresented and exacerbated the violence they claim to be tackling, through their deployment of racialized tropes of conflict and communalizing peace practices.

The assemblage of these tropes and practices, which Kosmatopoulos calls “master peace,” naturalizes social and structural inequalities by collapsing them into supposedly innate cultural and sectarian divisions. Master peace installs unequal relations of domination through the work of metropolitan theories, as in “ethnic conflict” and “failed state,” and practices, such as conflict resolution workshops and crisis reports, converting the radical demand for just peace into a postcolonial regime of dependence on technocratic tools, unaccountable experts, and external donors.

Kosmatopoulos shows how master peace has been framing debates, designing interventions of peace and war, and defining the problem of violence in Lebanon and the Middle East for decades, to deleterious effect. As the supposed moral high ground that justifies external intervention and precludes political solutions or democratic forms of action, master peace has obscured the geopolitical and ideological nature of violence in the region, substituting democratic notions of peace for an elitist antipolitics of expertise characterized by dependence, domination, and epistemic violence.

The first book to shed light on what caused corporate executives to pursue a pro-globalization agenda over the last eight decades

Crusading for Globalization tells the story of an extraordinarily influential group of business executives at the helms of the largest US multinational corporations and their quest to drive globalization forward over the last eight decades. Janick Marina Schaufelbuehl argues that the spectacular expansion of international investment, trade, and production after 1945 cannot be understood without considering the role played by these corporate globalizers and the organization they created, the US Council (today’s United States Council for International Business). By shaping governmental policy through their congressional lobbying and close connections to successive presidential administrations, US Council members, including executives from General Electric, Coca Cola, and IBM, among others, consistently fought for ever more market deregulation, culminating in the creation of the World Trade Organization in 1995.

Crusading for Globalization is also a book about those who opposed the growing might of multinationals. In the years immediately after World War II, resistance came from business protectionists, before labor and policymakers from the Global South joined the effort in the early 1970s. Schaufelbuehl breaks new ground by offering a panorama of this early anti-globalization movement, and by showing how the leaders of multinationals organized to limit its political influence. She also examines continuities between this early movement and the opposition to globalization that emerged at the beginning of the twenty-first century from the left and the populist right and discusses how business responded by promoting corporate social responsibility and voluntary guidelines.

The first book to shed light on what caused corporate executives to pursue a pro-globalization agenda and to examine their methods for dealing with their opponents, Crusading for Globalization reveals the historical roots of today’s disparities in wealth and income distribution.

An ethnographic exploration of anthropological failure through the Mapuche archetypes of witch, clown, and usurper

How do we learn what failure looks like? During the years anthropologist Magnus Course spent living with Indigenous Mapuche people in southern Chile, he came to understand failure—both his own and those of the discipline of anthropology—through Mapuche narratives of the witch, the clown, and the usurper. In a context of enduring poverty and racism, increasing state repression, and his own disintegration, he began to realize that these figures of failure, and their insatiable appetites for destruction, greed, and property, reflected as much upon his own failings as on anybody else’s, but also showed the way forward to a better way to live.

Set amidst the stunning natural beauty and political tragedies of southern Chile, Three Ways to Fail is the story of what it means to become a part of other people’s lives, of what it means to fail them, and of what it means to live well when everything falls apart. Grounded in three decades of work and collaboration with Mapuche people, Three Ways to Fail sheds new light on Indigenous lifeways in the Americas while grappling with broader questions about the nature of ethnographic writing and the future of anthropology.

Reveals fundamental continuities between the contemporary War on Terror and earlier U.S. imperial conflicts

Prehistories of the War on Terror examines the longstanding American project of classifying enemies who challenge U.S. power abroad as terrorists. To do so, the volume brings disparate episodes of U.S. military empire-building into dialogue across time and space. From settler colonial wars in the nineteenth-century American West to twentieth-century wars of conquest in Asia and the Pacific, the collection’s essays argue that the United States has drawn both materially and ideologically on older systems of empire in the conflicts through which it has waged the present-day War on Terror.

Attending to the local histories from which these conflicts emerged and examining the effects of U.S. intervention in these sites, contributors analyze the cultural frameworks for understanding and remembering past conflicts that confirm, challenge, or refigure the logics of the War on Terror. This volume reveals how contestations over sovereignty, extraction, and inequality must be suppressed and flattened in public discourse to maintain a coherent vision of a totalizing War on Terror. Together, the contributors illustrate that there was no single road that led to 9/11 or the War on Terror. Rather, they argue that we must follow multiple paths into the past to fully understand our present and to fight for a more just future.

Contributors: Moustafa Bayoumi, Joo Ok Kim, Janne Lahti, A. J. Yumi Lee, Naveed Mansoori, Karen R. Miller, Kalyan Nadiminti, Tim Roberts, Colleen Woods.

Interrogates the global, and often controversial, phenomenon of Holocaust and human rights museums

Spanning six continents—Europe, Australia, Africa, Asia, North America, and South America—this edited collection offers a comparative, transnational study of Holocaust and human rights museums that foregrounds the overlapping and often contested work these institutions do in narrating and memorializing histories of genocide and human rights abuses for a public audience. Museums that link the Holocaust with social justice, human rights, and genocide prevention have been founded in many countries—for example, the Kazerne Dossin Memorial Museum in Belgium, the Anne Frank House in the Netherlands, and the Johannesburg Holocaust and Genocide Centre in South Africa—making Holocaust and human rights museums a global phenomenon. It is not uncommon for these institutions to court controversy by linking the Holocaust to human rights issues in their locales and abroad. Some begin from a “Holocaust core” and extrapolate from this history to address broader concerns, while others integrate the Holocaust as “a” or, at times, “the” case study par excellence of human rights abuses. Other institutions that may not explicitly focus on the Holocaust continue to engage these representational practices to highlight other instances of genocide and human rights abuses.

The case studies in this book illuminate the convergences between Holocaust and human rights museums in their demands for social justice and reparation, educational and activist purpose, design principles, and curatorial choices. But it also shows how these museums can also be sites of contestation around how stories of suffering, courage, and survival are told; whose stories are prioritized; and who is consulted. Although Holocaust museums were once the most influential form of representation of human rights issues in the international museum and heritage fields, they are now in dialogue—visually, spatially, methodologically—with museums and memorial sites concerned with human rights more broadly. Interrogating debates in both museology and Holocaust memory studies, this volume reveals how institutions dedicated to these concerns have become active and influential contributors to local, national, and transnational dialogues about human rights.

Contributors: Avril Alba, Brook Andrew, Jennifer Barrett, Jennifer Carter, Danielle Celermajer, Steven Cooke, Donna-Lee Frieze, Shirli Gilbert, Sulamith Graefenstein, Christoph Hanzig, Vannessa Hearman, Rosanne Kennedy, Marcia Langton, Edwina Light, Wendy Lipworth, A. Dirk Moses, Tali Nates, Jessica Neath, Michael Robertson, Amy Sodaro, Garry Walter.

This ethnography unravels the continuing political tensions surrounding Senegal’s 1999 national ban on “female genital mutilation”

The Senegalese parliament authorized a national ban on “Female Genital Mutilation” in 1999. Because only a third of the Senegalese population practiced female genital cutting (FGC) at the time, policy makers did not expect that the new law would cause controversy or provoke commotion. Yet, in Fouta Toro and among Fulani, who traditionally practiced FGC, the response to the new law was fury, and frustrations often turned violent. More than a decade after the ban, Fouta Toro was considered “the most difficult region” for anti-FGC activists, both from inside and outside the government. Tires were burned, international NGO delegates were threatened, and activists publicly speaking out against the practice were religiously condemned. Animosity toward the ban remains palpable in the region to this day. The ban, many (but not all) locals say, is nothing other than an overt act of Western cultural imperialism imposed on their community. For these individuals, resisting the ban is critical for maintaining the autonomy and integrity of a traditional way of life. And from the outside, opposition to the law and NGOs can seem unified.

However, anthropologist Sarah O’Neill discovers that on the ground, there are tensions between those who oppose the ban and those who support it—even as that support is nuanced and often complicated. This ethnography unravels the continuing political tensions surrounding both national and international interventions in Fouta Toro and in Senegal that place protection of the female body at the center of their concerns. By way of the many stories of ordinary women and men caught up in debates around the value of the practice and meaning of FGC, Compromised Bodies reveals the personal struggles and difficult decisions Fulani face, be they traditional cutters, religious leaders, mothers, husbands, divorced women, or anti-FGC activists.

In The End of Peacekeeping, Marsha Henry makes use of feminist, postcolonial, and anti-militarist frameworks to expose peacekeeping as an epistemic power project in need of abolition. Drawing on critical concepts from Black feminist thought, and from postcolonial and critical race theories, Henry shows how contemporary peacekeeping produces gender and racial inequalities through increasingly militarized strategies.

The book’s intersectional analysis of peacekeeping is based on data amassed through more than fifteen years of ethnographic fieldwork on peacekeeping missions and training centers around the world, including interviews with UN peacekeepers, humanitarian aid personnel, and local populations. Henry demonstrates how focus on the policy and practice of peacekeeping has obscured the geopolitical knowledge project at peacekeeping’s root, allowing its harms to persist unquestioned by mainstream scholarship. Arguing that we must recover critical theoretical contributions that have been sidelined within the field, she brings the insights of feminist and postcolonial scholarship to bear on peacekeeping studies, whose production of empirical data and evidence continues to provide the justification and foundation for policy and global governance actions.

Revealing that peacekeeping is not the benign, apolitical project it is often purported to be, this book encourages readers to imagine and enact alternative futures to peacekeeping.

An ethnography of “silver backpackers” that offers a feminist perspective on what makes a good retirement in contemporary societies

The moniker “silver backpackers” refers to Japanese couples who, in their mid-fifties to seventies, move to Malaysia to enjoy their retirement. Recent scholarship on Japan has revealed how the gendered division of labor impacts the lives of middle-class workers and their families. But how do cultural values live on—or change—when these professionals retire from work, move on from identities built through salaried careers, and embark on a new phase of life? After Work takes up this question to focus on what comes after work, and in the process, expands our understanding of aging, gender, migration, and the future of work.

Based on fifteen months of fieldwork in Kuala Lumpur and employing a transnational feminist framework, After Work investigates moments of difference in the experiences of older women and men to examine patriarchal conversations that dominate ideas about contemporary retirement. Shiori Shakuto argues that anxiety around self and belonging in retirement are instigated by the capitalist labor regime and the discourse of successful aging, both of which devalue nonremunerated activities conducted at home. What is needed instead, she contends, is a re-valuation of key domestic activities—from caring for children to pursuing individual hobbies—so that “life” can be appreciated in its entirety.

Shakuto also takes into account the fact that this transnational retirement is set in Malaysia—a nation that Japan occupied during World War II and thereafter subject to decades of economic investment and resource exploitation by Japanese corporations. Highlighting how historical, cultural, and racialized complexities entangle with intimate relations in increasingly connected Asian countries while simultaneously acknowledging how the boundaries between work and life blur ever more in contemporary society, After Work complicates our perceptions of aging and a “good” retirement as well as our understandings of gender, migration, and the future of work as we know it.

How domestic courts in newly democratized states become willing and able to enforce international human rights law

When do domestic courts protect international human rights? By the end of the twentieth century, the world had witnessed an unprecedented flourishing of international human rights law and a growing number of democratic states whose domestic institutions promised to protect those rights. A single institution often became the center of these efforts: the court. Advocates in newly democratized states could look to high courts to demand that their governments comply with international law and bring policy into line with liberal rhetoric.

This process, however, put these young courts in a difficult position. With no deep well of historical legitimacy to draw on in new political environments, courts had to weigh high-minded legal principles against the limited resources or political preferences of elected governments. In such situations, how did these courts respond, and what strategies allowed some to successfully build their legitimacy over time while others faltered, succumbing to political pressure or suffering political backlash?

In Between Possibility and Peril, Chris Kendall explores this dynamic in three states—Colombia, Mexico, and South Africa—in the twenty years following each country’s democratic transition. The case studies reveal a common pattern: what matters most is not international law itself, but a court’s ability to control its procedural environment. Control over these “rules of the game” allows a court to selectively engage international human rights issues that can enhance its legitimacy and build public support while avoiding those issues likely to put it in direct conflict with hostile political actors. The result is paradoxical—the most successful courts in the long term are those who in the short term often choose to disappoint rights advocates.