I consider how Gulf Arabs evaluate their government’s behavior relative to the circulation of wealth. On the basis of roughly 350 interviews in the four countries with scholars, economists, dissidents, bankers, members of government, representatives of public and private foundations and NGOs and official and independent ‘ulama, I summarize their views, quoting from their responses to a set of questions and sharing the evidence they provide. I note the extent to which my interlocutors criticize their rulers in ethical terms, especially insofar as their commitment to social justice, equity and inclusion is concerned. In short, they confirm that there is no genuine concern for equity in the distribution of resources, and no indication that religious norms are integrated into this domain of governance. Rather, fairly narrow political and material interests prevail. Then, I briefly describe episodes of resistance to Gulf rulers from religious forces in society. The aim is twofold: to demonstrate how they too instrumentalize Islam for political capital and how rulers respond to the challenge they face from the religious field.

Chapter Six looks at the role of international law in the Trump administration State Department. Former policymakers gave their opinion on the extent of the effect of the Trump administration on State Department policymaking and discussed potential long-term effects. The Trump administration generally displayed a negative view toward international law, institutions, and agreements, as evidenced by its words and in its actions, a view at odds with the prevailing State Department culture. More significantly, the Trump administration took unusual steps to stifle dissent within the State Department. Former officials expressed a range of perceptions regarding the Trump administration’s effect on the State Department. A minority believed that the administration’s views and actions significantly affected attitudes and practices within the Department regarding international law and institutions. The majority believed that effects on attitudes were more likely to be felt at the policy-decision level, rather than at the lower, policy development level. That is, attitudes among rank-and-file and career State Department officials probably remained unchanged and were likely to “bounce back” after the 2020 election. Nevertheless, a reprise of the Trump administration, or a similar administration, could ultimately affect not only practices at the State Department but attitudes among officials as well.

This chapter offers an investigation of what Socrates may have meant when, in his infamous appearance before a jury at Athens in 399 BCE, he referred to himself as a myōps – typically translated as a gadfly. The chapter illustrates that the natural world does not just serve to naturalize (and thus normalize) collective political systems that are already firmly in place. As in the case of Socrates, it can also serve as a potent strategy to seek to naturalize (and thus normalize) the individual political stance outside of the collective. The chapter shows that, by carving out a space for dissent, Socrates defined a form of citizenship that resonates far beyond the ancient world. It, for example, helps to explain the ambivalence surrounding modern dissenting voices (such as those of Julian Assange, Michael Moore, and Edward Snowden). The chapter ultimately traces the buzzing of the Socratic gadfly into Hannah Arendt’s political philosophy and illustrates the important tole that this peculiar ancient creature plays in her critique of the perils of modernity.

The UK languishes under a political economic orthodoxy at the height of its structural power, but built on a demonstrably mistaken blueprint that can no longer command broad social support. This chapter argues that, so long as the UK’s parliamentary parties remain committed to this materialist utopia, the country will continue to suffer the decadent politics characteristic of the late Soviet era: a fate examined with reference to the dissident literature of that period. The Soviet system was ended by revolutions for democracy, albeit fatally timed at the height of neoliberalism. Innes closes by suggesting that the UK now stands at a critical juncture with highly uncertain outcomes. She suggests that if the UK's political parties relinquished their failing paradigm they could find renewed social, moral and economic purpose in the resolution of the ecological emergency. This paradigm shift to empiricism and new social purpose is urgent. Like Soviet communism, neoliberalism is a materialist utopia: a politics for the end of time. But in the era of the intensifying ecological emergency, its perpetuation has the capacity to hasten the end of human history, for all time, for real.

This essay aims to shed light on Sebald the polemicist and provocateur, draw attention to a central component of his literary criticism that is often ignored from an anglophone perspective. The essay first deals with the two academic monographs in which Sebald violently attacks the German-Jewish writers Alfred Döblin and Carl Sternheim, disparaging them as trailblazers for the Nazis. The consistently negative academic reviews Sebald writes from 1970 onwards as a junior academic are discussed as his personal way of participating in the political upheavals of the 1960s. After the rather quiet decade of the 1980s, Sebald’s polemical impetus flares up again, parallel to his emergence as a literary author. Jurek Becker, another German-Jewish author (and Holocaust survivor) once more serves as target of his polemics. What emerges from an examination of his polemical writings are two major findings: first, Sebald tried to learn lessons from the writers he attacked, avoiding what he saw as their flaws in his own writing. Second, Sebald’s lifelong urge to polemicize was closely tied to the issue of upward social mobility, the aggression arising from feeling to be a perpetual outsider in the social environment of academia.

Chapter 1 defines the concepts of “protest” and “dissent.” It defends public protest on marketplace, self-government, autonomy, and tolerance grounds. The chapter explores the communicative and other characteristics of public protests and demonstrations. It examines public attitudes toward protest and protest movements and the state’s typically violent and negative responses to public protest. The chapter examines the typical purposes or goals of public protests. Finally, it responds to several arguments about protest “fatigue” and the continued efficacy of public protest as a means of democratic change.

The Introduction discusses the importance of public protest even in a digital era. It uses the mass demonstrations that followed George Floyd’s murder to highlight both a desire to participate in public dissent and the challenges that restrict that participation. Those challenges include police aggression and violence, enforcement of vague public order laws, restrictions on the place where protests can occur, and attitudes about public contention. The idea of a body of protest law and the concept of “managed dissent” are introduced and explained.

As he developed his own faith, working it out as he lived and wrote, Tolstoy responded to varieties of religious experience and expression, including English ones. From early on, Tolstoy found in Bunyan’s Pilgrim’s Progress, and the novels of Thackeray, Dickens, George Eliot, and others, information about English religious life and examples of how to novelize religious experience. In turn, when Tolstoy emerged, later in life, as a religious seeker and moral authority, English readers responded to Tolstoy both as a novelist and as a thinker.

Responding to imagined threats about chemical weapons delivered aerially, the British government intensified its efforts to create gas masks for everyone, testing fit and designs for those who might be unable to wear standard equipment. It did so in an atmosphere where popular culture continued to offer dire imaginings about poison gas’s potential for widespread destruction and where questions about anti-gas protection in the empire continued to emerge. By the start of 1938, the government’s air raid precautions department had developed extensive plans for how to distribute gas masks in case of an emergency across the United Kingdom. However, as it began to unveil such plans further, it encountered resistance from pacifists and antimilitarists as well as some grudging acceptance. The first significant test of these schemes came amid the Czechoslovakian or Munich Crisis in September 1938. On what became known as “Gas Mask Sunday,” the government asked its civilian inhabitants to line up across the nation to be fitted for gas masks. Although the outbreak of war was avoided, the limitations of anti-gas protection and the lack of suitable gas masks for all would propel this aspect of civil defense to the forefront as Britain’s entry into war seemed more likely than ever.

This chapter evaluates two dimensions that form a metric for evaluating the quality of courts’ decisions: the outcome of the case and the strength of the case determined by the level of dissensus. These two dimensions create four kinds of judicial decisions characterized as those that are either strongly or weakly deferential and those that provide strong or weak checks on the government. The chapter focuses on weak judicial vetoes issued by the two courts, noting their prevalence and connection to contentious political issues experienced in each country.

An enduring criticism of international arbitration and its legitimacy is that parties can appoint ‘their’ arbitrator unilaterally, which is by itself contrary to traditional notions of judicial impartiality. As a result, the striking lack of dissents and their asymmetry when they occur – usually by the losing party appointed arbitrator – raises questions over whether arbitrators act independently and impartially in relation to the party that appointed them. This chapter investigates whether a background in civil law, as opposed to common law where dissent is a more familiar phenomenon, could explain the absence of arbitral dissents. Using PITAD data on both dissents and arbitrator background, the author explores this potential causal factor. The findings, that differences in background seem unrelated to frequency of dissents, lends some support to the view that the relationship between an arbitrator and the appointing party is a main driver of dissenting opinions.

Romanticism and Protestant Dissent are deeply intertwined; this essay reflects on the long history of their cross-connections. In recent decades there has been an upsurge of interest in the inspirational power of Dissenting allegiances to Romantic-era writers, and the rich literary culture of specific religious groups. Individual writers nurtured and encouraged by Dissent are being restored to prominence, and we are beginning to recover the importance of nonconformist discourse in shaping the literature and culture of the long eighteenth-century – such as the influence of Methodist life-writing and different forms of devotional practice. The essay outlines the diversity of nonconformist practice in the period, and argues for the diffuse and far-reaching impact of Protestant Dissent, through the familial and friendship circles of nonconformity, its educational institutions and publishing networks, and its influence on social and political debate. More broadly, it seeks to trace Dissenting affiliations and inspirations in the work of Romantic-era writers, exploring the case study of Anna Letitia Barbauld in detail.

What makes some challengers willing and able to embrace a strategy of civil resistance and others not? This chapter shows how social ties–direct interpersonal connections that link members of a challenger organization to other actors in the society–are central to each of these processes. Two types of relationships, what I term “grassroots ties” and “regime ties,” are especially important. Each has distinct implications for different dynamics of challenger-state contention. I develop a typology of challenger networks based on different combinations of these ties, and make predictions about each type of challenger’s likelihood of initiating a campaign to overthrow the regime using a strategy of civil resistance. An attention to challengers’ social ties holds the potential to explain cases that other theories struggle with, such as variation within regional “waves,” within states, or even within movements over time. It can also improve our understanding of how other theoretical mechanisms work by suggesting why some movements might be more vulnerable to repression or fragmentation than others, or how tactical repertoires can evolve.

In 1996, the Communist Party of Nepal-Maoist launched an insurgency that lasted 10 years and killed an estimated 16,000 people. But the case of Nepal's Maoists is particularly fascinating for the way in which the conflict ended: with their decision to put down their arms and join with other political parties in a campaign civil resistance. Drawing on original field research, this chapter will make the argument that the Maoist change in strategy was the result of changes in their social ties that came about as a result of territorial gain through war and coalition with other political parties. These changes caused the Maoists to reassess the relative viability of armed and unarmed strategies of rebellion.

This chapter traces the strategic evolution of the Nepali Congress from its deliberation and rejection of nonviolence through a vote of party leaders in Calcutta in 1950 to its gradual return to an exclusively nonviolent platform by 1990. It illustrates that the movement's lack of social ties with other groups within Nepal limited its ability to generate mass mobilization, causing leaders to sour on the prospects of being able to achieve victory through civil resistance. But over the course of the following four decades, the Nepali Congress party was able to substantially enlarge its social base in ways that made it far better positioned for civil resistance. Interestingly, a challenger with a very different ideology, the Marxist-Leninists, underwent a very similar transition. After a failed effort at inciting revolution through the beheading of “class enemies” in the early 1970s, the Marxist-Leninists, like the Nepali Congress, engaged in a program of organization- and coalition-building that paved the way for the adoption of civil resistance.