This article examines the social effects of India's affirmative action policy (“reservations“) on the relationship between dalits and the dominant castes. Drawing on fieldwork in rural southern India, this article looks at the way people use their knowledge of reservations (however imperfect) to form opinions that shape behavior in everyday life. I argue that this policy is used to vindicate upper-caste antipathy toward dalits and has become an important part of new discriminatory attitudes. While discrimination on the basis of pollution has become muted, in its place reservations (combined with ideas about habits, morality, and cleanliness) have become the principal idiom through which the dominant openly express resentment toward dalits. In this sense, the language of reservations enables and legitimates an upsurge of anti-dalit feeling. This leads us to consider whether the positive effects of the policy can effectively counteract the caste antagonism caused by it in everyday life.
Dalits, reservations, and "caste feeling" in rural Andhra Pradesh
Durkheim on Solidarity and Social Morphology
Durkheim never repudiated or even revised the theory formulated in the Division, which was in its third edition by the time of the publication of his last major work. He did, however, admit privately to Mauss to having 'many hesitations' about bringing out a second edition, although he gave no indication of the nature of these reservations (1998a:277, 283). Furthermore his anthropological knowledge became more extensive after the publication of the Division, which is rather short on properly ethnographic materials (Lukes 1975:159; Allen 1995:49). It is not surprising, therefore, that his ideas concerning the social organisation of hunter-gatherer societies were modified.
Since the mid-1980s Italy’s relations with the United States (US)
have been characterised by occasional periods of tension, usually
following some unilateral American initiative in the Mediterranean.
At the beginning of 1999 it seemed that the two countries
were again on a collision course. The US was uneasy about Italian
diplomatic overtures to Iran and Libya. Italy, for its part, ignored
American advice that it extradite Kurdish nationalist leader Ocalan
to Turkey where he was wanted for terrorist activities, and it
repeatedly and publicly expressed strong reservations about the
rationale and effectiveness of the periodic Anglo-American bombing
of Iraq. Then, in early March, came the verdict of an American
military court acquitting the pilot responsible for the Cermis accident
of February 1998. The Italian government, backed by practically
the whole of parliament, reacted by calling for a review and
possible re-negotiation of the treaty regulating the use of NATO’s
military bases in Italy.
During the last twenty years it has become conventional to read The Tempest in relation to the exploration and colonisation of the New World. The paucity of literal references to America in the play means that this ‘colonial’ reading, however suggestive, is as much an allegorisation of the text as the older idea that Prospero represented Shakespeare himself. A number of critics have expressed strong reservations about this approach and two important, recent articles have pointed out that the insistence on a New World context has ignored equally important European contexts which inform the play. A reading which emphasises questions of power, legitimacy, conquest, colonisation, and slavery need look no further than the Mediterranean world in which the play is literally set, or indeed no further than the British Isles themselves. The importance of Ireland to any ‘colonial’ reading has already been amply demonstrated. What I wish to do is to read The Tempest in the light of myths about the origin of Britain, an approach which takes the play’s questions about legitimate rulership beyond a narrowly conceived version of ‘colonialism’. As Claire McEachern has written, ‘Colonialism is of acknowledged importance to English nationhood in this moment, but to the list of colonial territories that are conventionally supposed to animate English identity – the New World, Ireland, Scotland, and Wales – we must add Britain itself’.
Helga A. Welsh
After the two German states unified in 1990, the tendency to transplant West German practices to the former East Germany was particularly pronounced in areas where systemic differences and perceived inefficiency met ideological reservations. The higher education system was among them. Comprehensive institutional, policy, and personnel transfer from West to East ensued. Starting in the mid 1990s after many failed initiatives, however, new policies were launched in the unified Germany. Reinforced by feedback from institutional and policy transfer to the East, factors such as Europeanization and globalization empowered newly formed advocacy coalitions to advance a reform agenda. Competition and performance seeded other ideas, prominent among them diversification, internationalization, autonomy, and accountability. Existing institutions and firmly rooted traditions still condition and limit change, and reforming the reforms has become commonplace. Differentiation among Länder and higher education institutions has become more pronounced, adding to the variety of outcomes. In ways unforeseen in 1990, some areas of the German higher education system have seen paradigmatic change, while others have survived relatively unscathed. The recalibration of the system continues, and reform pressure persists.
This article is a discussion of and rejoinder to the comments of three respondents on my book, Screen Stories: Emotion and the Ethics of Engagement. Jane Stadler argues that the book would profit from more attention to the “temporal prolongation” made possible by multi-episode television, especially as it relates to the nature of character engagement. While I have reservations about the notion of medium specificity in relation to television and film (and thus prefer the term “screen stories”), I agree that temporal prolongation in relation to an ethics of screen stories is a vital topic. Malcolm Turvey argues that Screen Stories promotes moral intuition and emotion at the expense of moral reasoning and that an ethics of engagement should pay equal attention to reasoning. In my response, I enumerate four reasons why, despite my belief in the importance of reasoning, I focus on emotion and intuition. I do agree that, once we can decide just what moral reasoning is, it should become a focus of an ethics of engagement. Cynthia Freeland focuses her remarks on various aspects of the third part of my book, “The Contours of Engagement,” in which I examine how the features of screen stories can lead to viewer experiences with ethical implications. In response, I discuss three issues: medium specificity once more, the supposed tension between conceptions of the active and passive spectator, and the psychological underpinnings of various sorts of character engagement.
These two familiar utterances differ both in the agreeable variousness of Whitman’s self-contradictions and the democratic hospitality he offered to one and all, whereas for Yeats, contradiction seems to have been suffered rather than welcomed, and against the more select range of contradictions he experienced, he waged a lifelong struggle. ‘Hammer your thoughts into a unity’, he would repeatedly tell himself, an aim sometimes realised only by suppressing one self-dividing trait in favour of its rival. I want to touch on some of these internal quarrellings, but it is first worth remarking upon that over-emphatic contrast between ‘rhetoric’ and ‘poetry’. What Yeats meant by rhetoric was writing aimed at persuading readers – or indeed listeners, the poet being no mean perfomer on public platforms – to adopt a particular course of action. Rhetorical writing was a product of the will, of that determined energy that in his early years Yeats thought essentially unpoetic. Victorian poets, brimming over with opinions, improvingly moral and socially progressive, had designed poems as vehicles for their effective propagation. Hence Yeats’ reservations about such as Tennyson and Browning, while a poet of his own time who fitted the same bill would surely have been Kipling. For the young Yeats, poetry could only emerge from the opposite state of mind, inward and contemplative, neither directed towards action, nor the vehicle of emphatic opinion of any kind, moral, social or political, above all, not energetic, and it takes no more than a glance at the poems of The Wind Among The Reeds (1899) to see how they illustrate that ideal.
Autonomy or bureaucratization?
Eliana Elisabeth Diehl and Esther Jean Langdon
recognized “Indigenous Areas” ( Terra Indígena ) or reservations. Little is known about the individuals residing in urban areas who identified themselves as Indigenous in the last census ( Portela Garcia, 2015 ). Research among the Kaingang has been
An Indigenous Critique of the North American Model of Wildlife Conservation
Lauren Eichler and David Baumeister
Nez Perce reservation (more than five million acres) after gold was found on their lands. Though the right to hunt on that land was not taken away, the land is now shot through with highways, peppered with neighborhoods and shopping complexes, and set
Transfer, Transformation, and the Spectatorship of Transgender Mobility in François Ozon’s The New Girlfriend
, the film is obviously trying to be more easily accepted by audiences that presumably have severe reservations about a transgender protagonist. A quick glance at the cinematic representation of men dressing as women shows that this comic, mainly playful