This chapter engages with the philosophy of liberation of the Algerian philosopher and anticolonial thinker Malek Bennabi (1905–1973). It argues that Bennabi’s decolonization theory aims at transforming the structural conditions of the colonized that made colonization even possible. The chapter lays out some of the significant aspects of Bennabi’s theory, focusing on how Bennabi conceived the problem of colonialism/colonizability and what answers he attempted to offer to overcome it. The chapter also examines Bennabi’s theory of society and its elementary aspects before explicating Bennabi’s politics of liberation that aims at transforming (and perfecting) both the means of transformation and the humans as its agents. Bennabi’s philosophy of liberation is not predicated on changing the political system or institutions but on the transformation of their sociopsychological infrastructures in which the behaviors of the individuals can be molded, making their social actions engender a different kind of politics.

Early African American humour functioned as a method of cultural formation, an in-group way of communicating based on the needs and experiences of the enslaved community. Contemporary Black stand-up has been a foundation upon which to reveal realities of Black life and make those realities accessible and entertaining to an increasingly global audience. This chapter explores the innovative styles and approaches to the artform as an indication that the limits of Black stand-up are expanding. Using three case studies, it demonstrates the Afrofuturistic trajectory of the genre. Elements of resistance have given way to comedic approaches that centre imagination; fleeting moments of revenge are superseded by the materiality of the emancipated Black body; a sense of contentment and personal growth are foregrounded, ephemeral pleasures looming still; and rituals of play produce Afrofuturistic otherworlds where difference matters, disabused of its regulatory power to rank and marginalise.

Genealogical inquiries – most broadly – give us an account of why we have become self-estranged, so far from being at home with ourselves, so that we might yet become more self-aware. For this reason, as I show in this Introduction, genealogical investigations hold out a distinctive promise: to bring into reflective awareness the systems that organize our subjective experiences but do not even threaten to cross “the threshold of consciousness,” as Nietzsche puts it (GM I 1). I then set out the main claims of the book: Nietzsche’s genealogical work aims to render us less obscure to ourselves, to liberate us from those value systems that no longer serve our interests, and to show us how we might come to feel differently about ourselves, even less prone to shame. How is this to be achieved? This book provides an answer to that question.

Like many well-known Irish writers, O’Casey chose to spend much of his life away from his homeland. However, this chapter examines how O’Casey rarely succumbed to sentiments of loss and exile that can be found in other similarly positioned writers. He was, in fact, far more likely to use the dual position of the migrant – simultaneously familiar with the home country and able to view it anew from a space of geographical and ideological distance – to query, critique, and satirise Ireland. The chapter spends time examining the way in the late plays Oak Leaves and Lavender, Cock-a-Doodle Dandy, The Drums of Father Ned, and Behind the Green Curtains deal centrally with Irish migrant characters.

The conclusion, Victorian Ignorance, places the history that Selling Sexual Knowledge has traced into conversation with the emergence of a new history of sexual knowledge at the dawn of the twentieth century. While considering how well publishing activities that the book explores would have served Victorian readers, it argues that the ways Victorians discussed their reading experiences evince what the historian Kate Fisher has called an “epistemology of sexual ignorance,” in which sexual knowledge is thought of as a set of facts that must be learned through interaction with an expert. It further argues that commercial and rhetorical practices explored in the book not only encouraged this way of conceptualizing sexual knowledge, but helped foster the emergence of a historical narrative about Victorian censorship that would serve as a powerful justification for sexual-scientific research and sex reform movements in the twentieth century. At the same time, this narrative would obfuscate the extent to which Victorians enjoyed access to sexual information in the new age of mass print.

The quest for individual freedom was defined and pursued in the twentieth century in an environment shaped by moral norms that were established in the nineteenth century, if not before, but continued to be staunchly defended before undergoing a process of adjustment. At the same time, the question arose of what life would be like once these norms had been shaken off or decisively weakened. Furthermore, the selfhood of those who pushed for liberation was contested between coherence and control, on the one hand, and various modes of transgression, on the other. While such issues were first debated and probed in countercultural circles, they had become a mainstream concern by the end of the century, leading to new uncertainties about how far individual freedom should go and whom it should benefit. This chapter explores how sexuality was restrained by a morality that came to be adjusted in the decades after World War II; how the prospect of a “liberated” life emerged, leading to new expectations, but also creating imbalances and bringing disappointments alongside gains; and how the transgressive urge to expand the ego questioned the norm of coherent selfhood before eventually revealing its darker side.

The conclusion surveys the core interventions of the book: its conceptual and methodological work to open new pathways in African intellectual history beyond decolonisation through postcolonial civil wars to the present, among working-class migrants and war-displaced people, within the multiple discursive worlds (at home, in Sudan, and globally) accessible to them. This chapter challenges atheoretical interpretations of southern and South Sudanese politics, reasserting the place of political imagination in this history and demanding close engagement with everyday conversations over political ethnicity, wealth, class, and power. The chapter ends with a reflection based on conversations over 2015–23 with many of the same activists, teachers, and writers in South Sudan, on opportunities lost, and on continuing projects of political creativity today. As a history in the aftermath, the project was built during a time of a loss of optimism and political freedom, and is currently a history of possibilities lost.

The treason trials after 1945 were shaped by Norway’s particular experience of German occupation. The central importance of Nasjonal Samling to German Nazification efforts in Norway meant that those planning for a post-war reckoning soon focused their attention on how to criminalise the actions of party members. This chapter outlines the course of the Norwegian occupation, including the manifold actions on the part of Norwegian citizens that would later give rise to punishment. It details how the exile government in London and the resistance forces in Norway jointly prepared the legal groundwork for the post-war reckoning. In doing so, this chapter highlights the reasoning behind the introduction of the extraordinary legal provisions that would both determine the course of the trials and cause significant controversy after the war.

This chapter examines the post-WWII era where the idea of exclusive Convention Peoples Party (CPP) radicalism and Pan-Africanism rests most thickly. It argues that debates about the CPP’s Citizenship Act complexifies its pan-African credentials. Also, the CPP’s political philosophy was not radical and distinct compared to its opponents, as it fits within a broad liberal/ cosmopolitan tradition rooted in Europe and America. So-called conservatives were oftentimes more radical, as shown in parliamentary debates on the “Motion of Destiny.” Contentious discussions about whether to achieve self-government by proclamation or negotiation, are obscured by the dyad of radical versus conservative. Debates about federalism, regionalism, and unitary government remain unexplored because the grand narrative rebukes the opponents of Kwame Nkrumah’s socialist agenda, while granting him hero status. Nkrumah’s prolific writing and the squeezing out of his opponents after he became Prime Minister in 1957 are identified as the architects of Ghana’s grand narrative.

This chapter analyses the political and social dynamics that unfolded in Norway following the country’s liberation on 8 May 1945 and how these shaped the contours of the treason trials in the long term. At the political level, it demonstrates, the early consensus between the returning exile government and the resistance forces in Norway on the topic of the trials was a key reason as to why they were largely implemented according to plan. At the social level, the swift commencement of the trials satisfied a strong public demand and was deemed a requirement for securing a peaceful transition period. The final section of the chapter details the public pressure felt by representatives of the Norwegian Parliament (Storting) in July 1945 as they debated and passed some of the basic instruments of the trials, most notably an act approving of the use of the death penalty.

Artificial intelligence (AI) is presented as a portal to more liberative realities, but its broad implications for society and certain groups in particular require more critical examination. This chapter takes a specifically Black theological perspective to consider the scepticism within Black communities around narrow applications of AI as well as the more speculative ideas about these technologies, for example general AI. Black theology’s perpetual push towards Black liberation, combined with womanism’s invitation to participate in processes that reconstitute Black quality of life, have perfectly situated Black theological thought for discourse around artificial intelligence. Moreover, there are four particular categories where Black theologians and religious scholars have already broken ground and might be helpful to religious discourse concerning Blackness and AI. Those areas are: white supremacy, surveillance and policing, consciousness and God. This chapter encounters several scholars and perspectives within the field of Black theology and points to potential avenues for future theological areas of concern and exploration.

A look at Spartan commemoration in the Peloponnesian War, focusing on Brasidas and the rhetoric of liberation. Brasidas was a new kind of Spartan that put freedom in the forefront, which led to Brasidas receiving more lavish commemoration but also drew Sparta into more wars.

A study of Agesilaus and his Penhellenism and mission to "free the Greeks" of Asia. Agesilaus wanted to be commemorated as a liberator well outside of Sparta, which was a major contributor to Sparta’s decline as increased wars weakened Sparta irreparably.

Critical consciousness, or the process of coming to understand and combat oppression, is an integral aspect of adolescents’ sociopolitical development and is necessary for collective liberation. Although adolescents interface with oppression daily, little is known about how they engage in critical consciousness or how this process manifests across different situations and contexts. In this chapter, we propose a conceptual model and research agenda aimed at capturing this complexity. Specifically, we argue that daily diary studies would be well positioned to examine the finer-grained temporal nature of critical consciousness and intraindividual variability. We provide an overview of how daily diaries might be applied to the study of critical consciousness. Additionally, we discuss implications for research, practice, and policy.

This chapter completes the story of Giorgio Amendola (and his wife Germaine) and his communist brothers: the independent Antonio (who died young in 1953) and the orthodox Pietro. After an account of Giorgio as a fighting partisan, or an organiser of fighting partisans, we move on to his history in the renamed Italian Communist Party after 1945. We examine his role in the establishment of the Italian Republic in 1946–7 and the concentration Togliatti then expected from him on the South. The PCI’s slow detachment from Stalinism is also reviewed. Until his death, Giorgio could never bring himself to prefer American civilisation to Soviet. Nonetheless, he actively favoured the PCI policy of a national ‘Italian road to socialism’. The automatic succession of Luigi Longo to party leadership in 1964 dashed Giorgio’s hopes in that regard. By the 1970s, he had become a (massive) party elder, with time to write his deeply humane memoirs. He died on 5 June 1980, Germaine following him to the grave within hours; she had become a well-regarded painter and the two were always thought to be engaged in their deeply romantic love story. They were given public and family burial in the Campo Verano.

This chapter analyses the shape of liberation interpretation, emphasizing an alignment between the factors that constitute a liberationist hermeneutic of contemporary reception and the factors that constitute a liberationist hermeneutic of biblical text production.