All too often, the terms terrorism and insurgency are used interchangeably, just like tactics and strategy. But terrorism is indeed a tactic while insurgency is a strategy, and the two concepts are far from synonymous. This chapter details the differences between terrorism and insurgency, and hence, terrorists and insurgents, by tracing the evolution of each of these terms and placing them in the proper context, while providing numerous examples of terrorist chieftains and insurgent leaders, and how these individuals thought about strategy over time. The chapter will also investigate the considerable overlap between terrorism and insurgency. After all, militants pursuing an insurgent strategy may seek to use terrorism as a tactic toward achieving their objectives. Size can be a useful distinguishing characteristic, because terrorist groups often consist of a small number of individuals. By contrast, insurgent organisations, such as Lebanese Hizballah or the Liberation Tigers of Tamil Eelam (LTTE), number in the thousands. Indeed, many of the most important ‘terrorist’ groups in the world – including Lebanese Hizballah, LTTE, the Provisional Irish Republican Army (PIRA), and the Revolutionary Armed Forces of Colombia (FARC) – are better described as insurgencies that use terrorism than as typical terrorist movements.

This chapter offers an overview of the strategic environment and grand strategies employed by the Ming and Qing dynasties. It discusses how they built upon pre-existing strategic traditions while also incorporating new technologies and tactics to expand the empire, creating a sophisticated state capable of responding to a dazzling array of challenges. The chapter not only delineates the nature of the strategic threats faced by the last Chinese empires, but also covers the extensive primary source materials demonstrating how imperial leadership and personal networks operated alongside institutions to create an effective grand-strategy paradigm allowing the Ming and Qing to retain their superiority in east Asia for some five centuries. Finally, this overview of late imperial grand strategy offers clues into how China still perceives the world and its strategic goals in Asia.

This book begins with walking, thinking about walking, walking as thinking, just walking. In part a response to what I perceived to be the incompleteness of Romantic accounts of aesthetic experience and pleasure, it began by considering decidedly un-Romantic walking: huddling in Edinburgh doorways to avoid creditors, attempting to hold panic at bay while recognizing you’re lost in the dark in dangerous terrain, suddenly recognizing that you’ve chosen the ‘wrong’ side of Scafell to descend and may die, feeling untethered by the experience of moving house, of ‘flitting’. Such experiences put pressure on ideas of aesthetic pleasure: are they pre-aesthetic, awaiting some Burkean ‘safe place’ in which to be recuperated, or are they simply unorganized, or even unorganizable – verging on what Burke calls the ‘simply terrible’? I began this project looking for the former, hoping to deploy what I was calling experiential criticism to assemble a series of fraught events, represented in a variety of genres, which escaped the recuperative logic of received aesthetic categories.

Homeowner self-governance constitutes a form of basic democracy, which means collective self-government without committing to conventional liberal values, and poses a tricky dilemma for the party-state. On the one hand, it can relieve the party-state of the burden of trying to govern hundreds of thousands of complex neighborhood problems that, if badly handled, could undermine the party’s legitimacy simply through incompetence. On the other hand, independent civic organizations may threaten the party leadership both within and beyond residential neighborhoods.

The point of departure of this book was the attempt to analyse the changing nature of election campaigns and intra-party organisational change in India that has taken place in the last decade. I have argued that ‘professionalisation of politics’ is the appropriate analytical category through which we can capture these changes, identify their causal drivers and understand the possible implications of this trend for the future of Indian democracy. In this book, ‘professionalisation’ has been understood to be constituted by three interrelated features. First, it includes the growing salience of technology and technological solutions to carry out quotidian tasks in the world of politics. This change can be seen in activities ranging from the aggressive use of new media technology for political communication to the increased reliance on ‘scientific’ opinion polling and data analytics to understand public opinion. Second, professionalisation entails the emergence of new kinds of actors—labelled in this book as ‘political professionals’—and a specialisation in the work performed by them. In particular, I have discussed the growing role of party employees (which capture the internal dimension of professionalisation) and political consulting firms (which capture the external dimension of professionalisation) in India. Third, professionalisation is also a discursive practice insofar as it provides a shared imaginary for different actors to articulate new ideas, visions, aspirations and expectations related to politics. Thus, for example, in this book, we encounter political consultants who believed that they were reforming Indian politics by making it more organised, efficient and rationalised through their work. While it is tempting to dismiss this as mere rhetoric, the discourse surrounding professionalisation is, in fact, a crucial tool through which such new actors seek to legitimise their presence and participation in politics.

When thinking about the professionalisation of politics, it is important to consider the three aforementioned features as a conceptual whole and not as discrete elements that are independent of one another. Thus, for example, the introduction of technological innovations in politics is in itself not a sign of professionalisation. This is because, at each point in time, politicians have tried to use the most advanced form of technology available to them (as discussed in Chapter 3).

This chapter identifies striking convergences between the juridical techniques used in migration control and under colonial rule. These include strategic manipulations of jurisdiction, a legal system based on racialized status categories, normalization of a state of exception, and racialized determinations of culpability. Border externalization and extraterritorialization, reconsidered alongside the colonial practice of manipulating jurisdiction, should be understood as a juridical tactic that aims to evade responsibility for the state violence wielded against racialized migrants. On the basis of a comparative analyses of colonial and migratory juridical regimes, the chapter underscores the key role that law plays in maintaining and justifying racial domination in these two different contexts. The juridical regime in both can be best described as one of “lawful lawlessness,” to borrow a phrase introduced by Austin Sarat and Nassar Hussain, as the lines between “lawful” and “lawless” increasingly blur when law is put in the service of racial domination. To examine this blurring, the chapter turns to the 2020 ruling of the European Court of Human Rights in N.D. and N.T. v. Spain, which condoned the Spanish pushback operations and blamed migrants from “sub-Saharan Africa” for their “culpable” conduct.

Chapter 5 focuses on the metrical foot in its role in lexical stress assignment in monomorphemes. The chapter provides an extensive review of the distribution of lexical stress in di- and trisyllabic words with quantified data. It also contains a review of previous approaches, followed by a detailed OT analysis, both for regular patterns of lexical stress locations, and for three irregular stress patterns.