This chapter examines the twin threats of invasion and insurrection that most English tropical colonies faced because of dwindling white migration and the English reliance on bondage and forced migration to populate and build the tropical empire. It focuses on the period between 1675 and 1720, when a series of large-scale slave insurrection plots began to rock English settlements in the Atlantic. It shows how the very real threats of invasion and insurrection shaped these colonies and how the English navigated these twin threats. Ultimately, English settlers and governors in the Caribbean turned to brutal and draconian policies of slave management to maintain their colonies, while English agents in Asia and Africa were forced to rely on others to help them control the enslaved and defend their factories and settlements. Yet, by the end of the seventeenth century, the English in both the East and West Indies had begun to tentatively explore arming the enslaved, turning to their non-European bondsmen to build, populate, and even help defend the empire. Armed slaves became agents of empire.

This chapter focuses on six groups that were forced to migrate and become bound laborers at English sites of overseas expansion. It examines the poor, criminals, and prisoners of war from the British Isles forced into servitude, the indigenous people of the circum-Caribbean who wound up enslaved, enslaved West Africans from the Gold Coast, people sold into slavery in India during times of famine (especially on the Coromandel Coast), the Malagasy people of Madagascar sold for firearms, and the indigenous peoples of the Indonesian archipelago forced to labor for the East India Company. This chapter will stress the political and socioeconomic conditions that made these groups vulnerable to enslavement or other closely adjacent forms of bondage. The chapter highlights the ways in which the Little Ice Age created famine and political and social upheaval that shaped forced and free migration. It also emphasizes the added political destabilization that came with the expansion of global trade, the introduction of firearms as a trade good, and competition for access to coastal trades. This destabilization and change made people in the tropics more vulnerable to enslavement.

This introduction explains how constitutions first developed in the context of inter-imperial rivalry in the eighteenth century. In this setting, constitutions formed effective military contracts between rulers and subjects, allowing the extraction of military force in return for certain constitutional rights. It discusses how this process shaped national and imperial societies, and how it instilled propensities for violence in constitutional ordered polities.

The standard trope is that evolution and religion are at war. Bishop Wilberforce against science professor Thomas Henry Huxley. John Thomas Scopes was prosecuted for teaching that humans evolved from apes. Many, however, welcomed evolution, bringing it into their religious world picture. This was particularly the case for those drawn to organicism, Henri Bergson and Teilhard de Chardin in France, and Alfred North Whitehead, founder of process theology/philosophy in America. Evolution, Darwinism in particular, was now seen as a stimulating challenge rather than as a dire threat.

Was war intense and frequent enough in Latin America to cause state formation? How should we evaluate the capability of these states in the nineteenth century? This chapter presents a background of how war formed the colonial state in Latin America and features some cross-regional comparisons between Europe and Latin America which give context to the rest of the book. After showing how warfare in Europe and in the Americas led to the institutionalization of the colonial state, I focus on entire century between the Napoleonic Wars and WWI to show that Latin America faced comparatively frequent and severe warfare during this period. I then show that the territorial effects of warfare were similar in both regions and that the modes of financing war were also comparable and similarly conducive to state building. Put together, these pieces of evidence demonstrate through simple descriptive comparisons that the idea of a relatively peaceful Latin America populated by weak states, although a valid overall characterization of the region in the twentieth century, collapses when our focus is the nineteenth century.

The 18th Australian Infantry Brigade returned from the Buna and Sanananda campaigns a victorious but physically broken force. It had suffered more than 96 per cent casualties owing to a combination of weather, terrain, disease and the enemy, and would have to reconstruct the foundations of the brigade, built around a core of experienced veterans and the assimilation of motorised troops and replacement soldiers.1 The 18th Brigade would have to start building basic soldiering skills, the integration of jungle warfare lessons learnt, and the introduction of formal brigade leadership schools. This is also the period when the brigade undergoes a dramatic reorganisation under 7th Division’s establishment as a jungle division, which was outlined in chapter 1.

This chapter starts by delimiting the scope of the book and making clear that we focus on various types of domestic political violence but that international wars are touched upon as well. We clearly define these terms and provide examples that illustrate the differences between distinct forms of violence, before moving to a discussion of the costs that these forms of violence impose on society. Strikingly, some people believe that wars and conflicts are good business. They are not. This chapter shows that wars not only destroy millions of innocent lives, but they are also poison for the economy. In particular, wars may be lucrative for the few but disastrous for the many. The detriments of war are manifold and include human, economic and social costs. This is illustrated by a series of historical examples. Drawing on recent cost estimates, it is also shown that the costs of a given war spread well beyond the borders of the country at war, with continental if not worldwide consequences.

This chapter focuses on the multiple mobilities of prisoners of war captured by the British in the years 1793–1815. It refers to prisoners being held at contested imperial sites across a vast panorama of warfare, from the Cape of Good Hope to Jamaica, Ceylon, and Halifax, Nova Scotia, alongside detention centers, including prisons, prison ships, and parole towns in Britain. A combined analysis of these sites makes visible the scope and scale of war captivity and prisoner movements across the British imperial world. The chapter investigates how British administrators coped with influxes of prisoners, asks questions about legal status, subjecthood, and liberty during this revolutionary period, and argues for the inclusion of the experiences of non-combatants and civilians – groups ranging from whalers and free and enslaved people of color, to lascar seamen, independent travelers, women, and children – within theaters of war and histories of forced migration more broadly.

This is a general introduction to the book, explaining that the purpose of the book is to provide a concise but detailed explanation of the core rules of international humanitarian law. The contents of each chapter are summarised. It explains that the book looks at the major areas of IHL, putting them in historical context, so as to better understand how the law has evolved. This book also examines the current challenges for and pressures on the existing law, as IHL rules adopted in the time of cavalry and bayonets must adapt to deal with issues like drones, cyber warfare and autonomous weaponry. It notes that the third edition has been updated to reflect new developments in the law of armed conflict up to May 2023.

Chapter 2 introduces and configures the concept of lawfare. This framework chapter sets the theoretical scene for what is to come. Whereas both legalism and lawfare, in the books conception, serve the standard functions of regulation in a given polity, the author demonstrates that only lawfare is intended qua system to also serve a function otherwise considered the hallmark of warfare. The chapter elaborates defining attributes of – and pathways to – lawfare. It also situates the books theoretical argument about lawfare in existing work on the rule of violence.

In this chapter tomb paintings join the selection of texts (preserved on stone, papyrus, and leather) to show the role of dependence as a structural feature of pharaonic society. Foreigners were acquired through raiding and warfare, and settled in both existing and new communities. An actual trade in persons is also documented and varying aspects of the experience of such individuals is examined, as they were exploited by those who purchased them or passed them on as gifts. Changes over time in the vocabulary of dependence are discussed, as are the different types of work and production in which such dependents were involved. Non-free dependents were employed on the land, in animal herding, and in artisanal workshops, especially textiles, as well as in the home. The key economic role of Egyptian temples is a constant feature of the period.

The survival rate of 90% among wounded UK troops in Afghanistan (2004–2014) was the highest in the history of warfare. Foremost among these were severely disabled amputees, who emerged as an unexpected cohort of survivors of critical injuries. Soldiers who would have died from injuries in earlier wars were kept alive thanks to fellow soldiers highly trained in trauma medicine, paramedics who accompanied the helicopters, and the trauma care that the troops later received in hospital. We discuss our UK experience of learning from warfare, what made a difference, and how new knowledge could be used to improve physical injury and mental health related to trauma care in the UK. For the sake and sacrifice of our fallen and injured soldiers and for the benefit of our future NHS patients, an obligation rests with the NHS to allow the lessons learned from past conflicts to benefit the injured of the future.

Alexander III inherited the Persian campaign from his father Philip II, who had aimed to conquer Asia Minor, probably in order to secure a permanent source of income from the revenues of its rich cities. Going further, Alexander ended the reign of the Achaemenid dynasty established by Darius I in 522/21 BC and campaigned to the borders of Achaemenid influence in the Indus region. Contrary to the panhellenic propaganda preserved by the Alexander historiographers, the war was about the acquisition of territory, influence and wealth – not a war of ‘liberation’ or ‘reprisal’. Since there exists no Persian historiography and the extant numismatic, administrative and archaeological sources reveal little of political history, it is difficult to view the events from a Persian perspective. However, scholarship’s traditional biased images of the Persian empire as weak, chaotic, compromised by decadence and inner strife, and hence doomed to fall, have come to be rejected as reflecting Greek and Roman stereotypes. In current scholarship, it is stressed that Alexander appropriated and adapted most of the political and administrative structures of the Achaemenid empire: it was the existing system that supported his conquest.

This chapter revolves around the famous story of how the Greeks managed to get into the city of Troy concealed in a gigantic wooden horse – and thus won a long and drawn-out war. The chapter follows this story and dismantles the odd human/animal hybrid at its core in the ultimate aim to explore how notions of animality define the human at war. Moving away from the ‘othering’ at work in the previous chapter, this one illustrates an area of existence in which analogies between human and animal prevail. Fighting emerges as an area of life in which our animal side comes to the fore.