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The book ends by tracking the legacy of the Minorities Commission. The commission set a precedent for managing minority anxieties as Nigeria entered nation-statehood in 1960. It also failed to resolve the political tension these anxieties caused, leaving the newly independent Nigerian state with a crisis of citizenship that lingers to this day. This crisis of citizenship informed the national breakdown that led to the devastating civil war (also known as the Biafran War, 1967–70) and the ongoing fragmentation of Nigeria into smaller and more numerous states. Because certain Niger Delta peoples have been fixed as minorities in Nigeria, the needs and well-being of Niger Delta communities are not priorities, especially as they are construed as being at odds with national needs and priorities. It is in this context that their status as minorities has had the most devastating implications. The book closes by exploring the various ways these communities have used their minority status to simultaneously challenge and insist upon inclusion within the Nigerian state, asking what might be possible for their future as Nigerian citizens.
The Minorities Commission of 1957-58 demonstrated the degree to which people had aligned their ethnic affiliation with the newly articulated political identities by the late 1950s. Even though each region contained significant heterogeneous populations, each of the major political parties aligned with the numerically major ethnic group, which also conformed to colonially construed majorities (i.e., Hausa, Yoruba, Igbo). This further exacerbated the growing sense of alienation minorities felt amid nationalist fervor during this period. In the end, the Minorities Commission recommended that Nigeria enter independence with the existing tripartite regional structure. However, it did recommend the new Nigerian state set up “special areas” or “minority areas” in the Western and Eastern Regions under the jurisdiction of the federal government; the idea was that these would receive special consideration for further development. Addressing the minority question would have required more time and resources than the British government was willing to give to this colony.
Ethnic majorities and minorities are produced over time by the same processes that define national borders and create national institutions. Minority Identities in Nigeria traces how western Niger Delta communities became political minorities first, through colonial administrative policies in the 1930s; and second, by embracing their minority status to make claims for resources and representation from the British government in the 1940s and 50s. This minority consciousness has deepened in the post-independence era, especially under the pressures of the crude oil economy. Blending discussion of local and regional politics in the Niger Delta with the wider literature on developmental colonialism, decolonization, and nationalism, Oghenetoja Okoh offers a detailed historical analysis of these communities. This study moves beyond a singular focus on the experience of crude oil extraction, exploring a longer history of state manipulation and exploitation in which minorities are construed as governable citizens.
People from ethnic minority groups are more likely to be impacted by global disasters than White ethnic groups due to pre-existing vulnerabilities. A lack of trust in mainstream support services, which have often accounted poorly for the needs of those communities, contributes to further discrimination and disadvantage.
Aims
This study was conducted in 2022, soon after the COVID-19 pandemic, to survey the overall well-being and healthcare needs of UK families with a Black ethnic background.
Method
A total of 2124 parents completed an online survey that included measures of psychological well-being, children’s difficulties, family healthcare needs and perception of support both before and after the COVID-19 pandemic.
Results
Seventy per cent of parents reported high levels of stress, depression and anxiety, and over half identified high emotional and relational difficulties in their children. Higher levels of distress in parents correlated with greater difficulties in children and poorer parent–child relationships. Community support was associated with greater parental well-being and fewer child difficulties. Parents sought support from formal support networks when health issues were perceived as more severe.
Conclusions
This study engaged a large sample of families from Black ethnic backgrounds, but recruitment may have been biased by sociodemographic characteristics. Levels of psychological distress were high, possibly due to pre-existing and enduring exposure to difficult life circumstances. Support from community networks was perceived as helpful, especially by those with milder levels of psychological distress. The strong association between parents’ and children’s well-being suggests that family-focused interventions could be beneficial, especially if culturally adapted.
As Poland began to expand towards the east in the 1340s, a large-scale settlement initiative commenced on the former Polish-Ruthenian borderland in the Carpathians. This initiative, along with integration of German and Polish colonists, resulted over time in the emergence of a Polish cultural group known as Forest Germans (in Polish Głuchoniemcy). In 1871-1989 Polish-German conflict led to the relevant ethnonym and choronym being removed from both Polish academic and popular discourse. As a result, no systematic geographical research into the location and borders of their settlement region was carried out. All we have are its dispersed, imprecise geographical descriptions from the period between the second half of the 17th century and the first half of the 20th century. Despite the erasure of this term from discourses and obstruction of the process of self-determination by the local population as Forest Germans at the turn of the 19th and 20th centuries primarily for political reasons, the existence of a community which can potentially be identified today as Forest Germans at the former Polish-Ruthenian border is a fact. This article outlines the problems, challenges as well as the very process of delimiting Forest Germany, along with a general outline of its boundaries.
The Paris Conference assigned the League of Nations the task of continuing to construct the new international order. This in turn would restructure the international system. Through administering institutions and adjudicating issues, the League sought to reconcile the liberalism of Wilsonianism with the realities of geopolitics. Mandates, never colonies in a legal sense, posited an alternative to colonialism, however much the mandatory powers wanted to administer them as imperial domains. Minority protection sought to re-engineer citizenship itself, so that minorities could preserve the attributes that made them minorities while enabling them to become full members of the national communities of the successor states to the multinational empires. The record of the League proved the most troubled in international security, its broadest but most ill-defined area of responsibility. In Manchuria and Ethiopia, the League proved unable to prevent determined imperial expansion on the part of Japan and Italy, two founding members. The work of the League is best assessed not in categories of ‘success’ or ‘failure’, but in the new ways it posited creating a global legal order.
The chapter argues that post-1945 international human rights law cannot be understood without accounting for the interwar period and some core elements of human rights discourse which existed at the time. Whereas classical histories of human rights have focused on genealogy and teleology to spell out the advent of rights universalism, more recent work has anchored the origins of human rights in national political communities. Accounting for these new historiographies, this chapter distinguishes between nineteenth-century human rights discourse and post–Second World War international human rights law. Elements of the former and antecedents of the latter can be found in the interwar period, in particular in the legal regimes for the protection of refugees and minorities. Although it analyses the two regimes separately, it articulates their points of convergence and situates them in the context of rising nationalism and the advent of the individual as a subject of international law.
This chapter deals with questions of sovereignty, territory and jurisdiction during the League of Nations era. It discusses how the concept of sovereignty developed until the League era and how it was understood then. Questions of territory and jurisdiction are closely linked with sovereignty, but, given the immense scope of this topic, it will only be considered as far as it affects the central substance of the chapter. This general exposition of the concept of sovereignty will be followed by an explication how the interwar period saw the emergence of, first, its general principle of horizontal protection of the territorial and jurisdictional aspect of states by international law; second, structured exceptions to this principle qua its vertical limitation of sovereignty through the League system; and third, curious cases where the territorial and jurisdictional powers of states had to be reconciled with other innovative legal principles such as human rights and self-determination. These explications will be illustrated and substantiated by a selection of the relevant cases decided by the Permanent Court of International Justice and other judicial bodies.
In Croatia, due to local histories of violence, purist language ideologies, and the essentialist belief that nations and languages form an inseparable nexus, the ability to speak pure “Croatian” (čisti hrvatski) is perceived as a sign of morality while the use of “Serbian” indexes immorality. Through repetition over time and institutional support – through ethno-linguistic enregisterment – linguistic practises are able to map ethnicity and morality onto the bodies of speakers, making the use of language in Croatia a delicate and politicized performance. Based on extensive ethnographic fieldwork, this article explores the ways in which linguistic performances of čisti hrvatski by the newly minoritized Serbs in Vukovar become an integral part of performing political subjectivity. The eagerness of some of my interlocutors to perform čisti hrvatski in the public sphere becomes a way to embody exemplary minority subjectivity and to negotiate their stigmatized ethnic difference by demonstrating a sense of belonging to the Croatian nation-state.
Between 1660 and 1775 the number of European countries with diplomatic relations with the Ottoman Empire that obtained ahdames of their own grew rapidly, but many of these newcomers did not establish networks of consulates and vice-consulates in the eastern Mediterranean. Instead, they appointed the consuls of other European nations as their vice-consuls. This did not hurt the legal privileges of the merchants from these countries. In the course of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, some nations asked the Ottoman government to renew their capitulations several times with the single aim of obtaining more privileges. This development culminated in the French capitulations of 1740, which incorporated the clauses of virtually all earlier ahdnames. In the eyes of many Ottomans, the capitulations of 1740 came to symbolise the Europeans’ ceaseless attempts to obtain more and more privileges from the Turks. But the French renewal of their capitulations in 1673 already laid the foundations for the rise of imperialism. It was then that the Ottoman authorities granted Ottoman subjects working for foreigners as interpreters or as warehousemen the same fiscal and legal status as the Westerners. It was also in 1673 that the French had their role as protectors of the Christian Holy Places in Jerusalem, as well as of all Catholic clergymen – not just Western missionaries, but all Catholic clerics – in the Levant codified in their capitulations. It was this French model that the Russians used in 1774 to claim their own protectorate over all Greek Orthodox Christians in the Ottoman realm.
Japan's swing to the right in the December 2012 Lower House election placed three-quarters of the seats in the hands of conservative parties. The result should come as no surprise. This political movement not only capitalized on a putative external threat generated by recent international territorial disputes (with China/Taiwan over the Senkaku/Diaoyu islands and with South Korea over Takeshima/Dokdo islands). It also rode a xenophobic wave during the 2000s, strengthened by fringe opposition to reformers seeking to give non-Japanese more rights in Japanese politics and society.
This article traces the arc of that xenophobic trajectory by focusing on three significant events: The defeat in the mid-2000s of a national “Protection of Human Rights” bill (jinken yōgo hōan); Tottori Prefecture's Human Rights Ordinance of 2005 that was passed on a local level and then rescinded; and the resounding defeat of proponents of local suffrage for non-citizens (gaikokujin sanseiken) between 2009-11. The article concludes that these developments have perpetuated the unconstitutional status quo of a nation with no laws against racial discrimination in Japan.
Genocide is sometimes called the ’crime of crimes’. The word was coined by Raphael Lemkin in 1944, then declared an international crime by the United Nations General Assembly. In 1948, the Genocide Convention was adopted. As the first human rights treaty of modern times, it constituted a significant intrusion into what had previously been a matter exclusively of domestic concern. This explains the narrow definition of the crime of genocide. It requires proof of an intent to destroy a national, ethnic, racial or religious group. Only a half century after its adoption did the Genocide Convention take on real significance with inter-State cases being filed at the International Court of Justice and many prosecutions at the International Criminal Tribunals for the former Yugoslavia and Rwanda. The Convention requires that States Parties punish genocide but they are also required to prevent it, even when it takes place outside their own territory. More than 150 States have ratified the Genocide Convention. Genocide is also prohibited under customary international law. It is generally agreed that the duty to punish genocide is a peremptory norm of international law (jus cogens).
The post-First World War minorities treaties regime was an initial attempt by international law to address the rights of national and ethnic minorities. Its shorcomings prompted Raphael Lemkin, in his book Axis Rule in Occupied Europe, to propose a new category of international crime that he named genocide. The International Military Tribunal prosecuted acts of genocide using the category of crimes against humanity. Several of the defendants were convicted of acts aimed at destruction of Europe’s Jewish population. However, crimes against humanity were confined to acts associated with aggressive war. At the first session of the United Nations General Assembly in 1946, a resolution on genocide was proposed in order to address the peacetime atrocities that were neglected in the Nuremberg judgment. The resolution recognized genocide as an international crime and called for preparation of a convention.
The 1948 Genocide Convention is a vital legal tool in the international campaign against impunity. Its provisions, including its enigmatic definition of the crime and its pledge both to punish and to prevent the 'crime of crimes', have now been considered in important judgments by the International Court of Justice, the international criminal tribunals and domestic courts. Since the second edition appeared in 2009, there have been important new judgments as well as attempts to apply the concept of genocide to a range of conflicts. Attention is given to the concept of protected groups, to problems of criminal prosecution and to issues of international judicial cooperation, such as extradition. The duty to prevent genocide and its relationship with the doctrine of the 'responsibility to protect' are also explored.
This chapter explores the synergies, limitations, and challenges of addressing statelessness through human rights and development approaches, using the Hill Country Tamils of Sri Lanka as a case study. In addressing the legacy of statelessness, both the human rights and development frameworks must be drawn on and used simultaneously. However, a frameworks approach alone falls short in addressing statelessness, given the political, economic and societal factors that perpetuate discrimination. Instead, as the case of the Hill Country Tamils demonstrates, both human rights and development approaches must be underpinned by a deeper commitment to pursuing equality and combatting discrimination at large. Despite claims of success, the legacy of statelessness in Sri Lanka still lingers. The Hill Country Tamils are still among the ‘furthest behind’ in Sri Lanka and continue to experience severe discrimination well after securing formal citizenship. The community’s prolonged statelessness has led to long-term deterioration in human rights conditions, such that a grant of formal citizenship alone is inadequate to address structural drivers of disadvantage that the community continues to endure.
What does it mean “to tolerate” in a post-Christian and post-secular state? This chapter argues that antecedents of contemporary conflicts over diversity in Europe can be found in early modernity, specifically in early modern practices of toleration, which impacted on both the belonging and the visibility of minorities. New forms of intolerance pertain to the position of religious, ethnoreligious, and sexual minorities in public life, echoing the concerns of the public visibility of minorities inhering in historical Christendom. The political articulation of certain groups as “other” to “the nation” is increasingly mediated through constitutional repertoires, such as constitutional revision and amendments, developments in the hermeneutics of constitutional concepts, or pseudo-constitutional behaviour. This chapter introduces the main themes: tolerance and intolerance, constitutionalism, secularisation, and their significance across the liberal–illiberal divide.
This concluding chapter reflects on the phenomenon of constitutional intolerance, its many faces, its entanglement in histories of toleration, and its implications for discourses on constitutionalism, illiberalism, and secularisation. It argues that the default lines have shifted from secularisation to fundamental questions about the future of constitutional democracy in Europe, considering the fundamental aspects of constitutional intolerance: the articulation of otherness vis-à-vis the political community and the sanctioning of this othering in public space. The conclusion also considers the rise of “cynical democracy” in the instrumental use of constitutional repertoires to further partisan interests, as well as the right wing tendency towards the overrepresentation of formal-procedural legalism, an attachment of legitimacy to legality, and a weakening of the capacity for normative reflection in the highest courts.
While statelessness remains a global phenomenon, it is a global issue with an Asian epicentre. This chapter situates the book within the context and multi-disciplinary scholarship on statelessness in Asia by reviewing the causes, conditions and/or challenges of statelessness. It recognizes statelessness in this region as a phenomenon beyond forced migration and highlights the arbitrary and discriminatory use of state power in producing and sustaining statelessness. The chapter reviews the ‘state of statelessness’ in Asia, including applicable international, regional and national legal frameworks. It also maps some of the core themes that emerge from the contributors’ examination of the causes and conditions of statelessness in Asia. These include: the relationship between ethnic, religious, cultural and linguistic diversity and statelessness; the legacies of colonialism; contemporary politics surrounding nation-building, border regimes and mobilities; as well as intersecting vulnerabilities. The chapter concludes with some preliminary thoughts on frameworks of analysis and future research agendas, including challenges and prospects for reform.
Why could politicians of religious minority backgrounds become national leaders in some countries soon after modern representative institutions were adopted, whereas in some other countries, almost all the national leaders have been from the religious majority background for decades if not centuries? I argue that the most important factor explaining the incidence of national leaders of a religious minority background or lack thereof is whether the main adversary in the constitutive conflict that established the nation-state was of the same religious sectarian background or not. Nations established in a constitutive conflict against an adversary of the same religion are much more likely to have national leaders of a religious minority background. Furthermore, political leaders of religious minority backgrounds have three “secular” paths out of their marginality, which is also determined by the combination and nature of the primary external and internal conflict of the nation. I examine these paths through the cases of Britain (liberalism), France (socialism), and Hungary and Italy (nationalism). Finally, I examine a world-historical example of pattern change, the rise of Catholic-origin national leaders in previously Protestant-led Germany, which was due to a new constitutive conflict (World War II and the Holocaust) that altered the national-religious configuration.