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Texts and Sects: Since the 1960s, readers have been fascinated with the possibility of heresy at the origins of Christianity and with “apocrypha” that were “excluded” from the Christian Bible (especially inspired by the Nag Hammadi gnostic texts). Gospel Thrillers amplify the excitement about lost texts but also express acute anxiety about heretical Christian sects: ultimately, they allow orthodox status quo to prevail.
With Langston Hughes as tour guide, this chapter sounds the (ostensible) paradox of jazz abroad: on one hand, jazz has often been perceived as indubitably, authentically “Black,” a racially encoded expression. On the other hand, jazz’s inherent multivalences oscillate on transnational frequencies that have resonated and continue to resonate with all kinds of people all over the world. The story of jazz abroad, then, is also the story of Blackness on the move, a journey perpetually navigating a course between authenticity and hybridity, individuation and polyvocality, originality and imitation. This jazz dialectic amplifies Blackness as a floating signifier and allows for the performance of fluid, transnational identities that defy homogenizing taxonomies of race, class, culture, or nationhood. And so, jazz– and jazz abroad especially– is (paradoxically) both, a distinctly Black American art form, and at the same time world music long before we had a term for it.
This chapter examines relationships between documentary screen-media and jazz from the 1950s to today. As a mode of production which often lays claim to “truth” and “reality,” documentary’s reflexive relationship with jazz is interrogated for its enduring power to keenly shape ideas about both jazz and documentary itself. Concert-films, meta-narrative documentaries, and biographical film are introduced as key repositories of jazz culture that reflect and codify jazz history and meaning. The use of jazz in nonjazz documentaries is also explored as an example of jazz’s integration into screen-media’s cultural vernacular and the aesthetics of the everyday. Throughout the chapter, attention is given to examples in which ideas about jazz and US democracy are propagated through documentary film practice, reception, and aesthetics.
The Bible Hunters: This chapters describes the background from which the political, theological, and personal stakes of the Gospel Thrillers emerge in the colonial context of the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, often encoded in fictional “tales of adventure.” A new political climate of modern discoveries (Dead Sea Scrolls and Nag Hammadi library) signal the shift from “adventure” to “thrillers.”
WITS: The Early Years is a history of the University up to 1939. First established in 1922, the University of the Witwatersrand, Johannesburg developed out of the South African School of Mines in Kimberley circa 1896. Examining the historical foundations, the struggle to establish a university in Johannesburg, and the progress of the University in the two decades prior to World War II, historian Bruce Murray captures the quality and texture of life in the early years of Wits University and the personalities who enlivened it and contributed to its growth. Particular attention is given to the wider issues and the challenges which faced Wits in its formative years. The book examines the role Wits came to occupy as a major centre of liberal thought and criticism in South Africa, its contribution to the development of the professions of the country, the relationship of its research to the wider society, and its attempts to grapple with a range of peculiarly South African problems, such as the admission of black students to the University and the relations of English- and Afrikaans-speaking white students within it.
This edition of WITS: The Early Years is republished in the University's centenary year with a preface by Keith Breckenridge.
In the period between the outbreak of World War II in 1939 and the enactment of university apartheid by the Nationalist Government in 1959, the University of the Witwatersrand, Johannesburg (Wits) developed as an 'open university', admitting students of all races. This, the second volume of the history of Wits by historian Bruce Murray, has as its central theme the process by which Wits became 'open', the compromises this process entailed, and the defence the University mounted to preserve its 'open' status in the face of the challenges posed by the Nationalist Government.
The University's institutional autonomy is highlighted by Yunus Ballim in his preface to the centenary edition of WITS: The 'Open' Years. He writes: 'The emerging posture of a university willing to rise in defence of academic freedom was important because this was to become infused into the institutional culture of Wits.'
The book looks at the University's role in South Africa's war effort, its contribution to the education of ex-volunteers after the war, its leading role in training job-seeking professionals required by a rapidly expanding economy, and the rise of research and postgraduate study. Students feature prominently through their political activities, the flourishing of a student intelligentsia, the heyday of the Remember and Give (Rag) parade, rugby intervarsity, and the stunning success of Wits sportsmen and women. WITS: The 'Open' Years paints a vivid picture of the range of personalities who enlivened the campus - among them some well-known figures in the new South Africa.
When the National Government assumed power in 1948, one of the earliest moves was to introduce segregated education. Its threats to restrict the admission of black students into the four 'open universities' galvanised the staff and students of those institutions to oppose any attempt to interfere with their autonomy and freedom to decide who should be admitted.
In subsequent years, as the regime adopted increasingly oppressive measures to prop up the apartheid state, opposition on the campuses, and in the country, increased and burgeoned into a Mass Democratic Movement intent on making the country ungovernable. Protest escalated through successive states of emergency and clashes with police on campus became regular events. Residences were raided, student leaders were harassed by security police and many students and some staff were detained for lengthy periods without recourse to the courts.
First published in 1996, WITS: A University in the Apartheid Era by Mervyn Shear tells the story of how the University of the Witwatersrand (WITS) adapted to the political and social developments in South Africa under apartheid. This new edition is published in the University's centenary year with a preface by Firoz Cachalia, one of Wits' student leaders in the 1980s. It serves as an invaluable historical resource on questions about the relationship between the University and the state, and on understanding the University's place and identity in a constitutional democracy.
In recent decades, popular sovereignty has come under increasing pressure. The rise of populism, often illiberal or authoritarian, has undermined minority rights, individual autonomy, and rule of law. The expansion of international institutions and greater reliance on market and non-governmental organizations have gradually insulated large areas of policymaking from public control. In turn, these developments cast doubt on the viability and desirability of liberal democracy itself. When the People Rule argues that comprehending and responding to the political crises of our time requires a radical refocusing on popular sovereignty. Each chapter offers a fresh perspective and opens new avenues of inquiry into popular sovereignty, advancing debate over the very heart of this principle - what it means for the people to rule. Thorough and timely, this volume is also available as Open Access on Cambridge Core.
This indispensable work traces impeachment from its bloody origins in medieval England, to its adoption in the Constitution, and through 250 years of American experience culminating in the two impeachments of Donald Trump. Frank O. Bowman III tells the stories, human and political, of nobles, commoners, colonists, judges, legislators, cabinet officers, and Presidents who have faced impeachment. He demonstrates that the practice was designed to be a flexible tool, informed by history, and adaptable to the needs of any age. The first edition was read by Democrats and Republicans and cited extensively by the advocates in both Trump impeachments. In this second edition, Bowman expands the first edition's deep historical and constitutional analysis. He also draws on his involvement in both Trump impeachments as a congressional consultant and frequent commentator, to assess Trump's aberrant presidency, his impeachments, and whether impeachment remains a useful tool against an overreaching president.
Histories of colonial energy tend to emphasize the development of the steam engine, the rise of electric power, or the beginnings of industrial agriculture, through the rise of cash crops such as indigo, cotton, sugar, and tobacco. Chapter 1, “Powering the Soul: Queer Energies in Haitian Vodou,” argues that any history of colonial energy production must also recognize that nonhuman forms of power were dependent on the human energy of enslaved labor, particularly reproductive labor. Yet far from considering enslaved labor as the flexible, malleable unit of energy desired by capitalist production, this chapter instead argues that Vodou radically disrupted the logics of racial capital and coerced biological reproduction. Vodou personhood is antithetical to the calculus of racial capitalism, and its porosity, I argue, helped reconfigure the plantation’s structures of power to resist imperialist extraction. Through an archive that ranges from colonial treatises to Vodou practices and epistemologies, this chapter highlights the ways in which Haitians expanded the category of gender and reimagined the energies of labor and birthwork under conditions of biocapitalist violence.
In July 2019, in the midst of a record-breaking heat wave, Brooklyn went dark. In 90-degree temperatures, over 55,000 customers in Canarsie, Flatlands, Mill Basin, Bergen Beach, and Georgetown lost electricity in one of the largest power outages in New York’s history. Con Edison, the city’s power company, admitted that it deliberately disconnected these neighborhoods in order to prevent a widespread loss of power that would affect wealthier, whiter areas of the city. Although Black neighborhoods earn the highest scores in New York City’s heat vulnerability index (a ranking system that takes into account the proportion of green space to developed space, access to air conditioning, and the percentage of people living below poverty levels), they are the first on the line when the city’s infrastructure fails.1 What the index does not take into account, however, are the social and political risks to which these neighborhoods are also exposed during a blackout. After the lights went out, 200 police officers flooded Brooklyn, with the nebulous mandate to preserve order. A week earlier, the US Department of Justice had announced that it would not press charges against Daniel Pantaleo, the white police officer who killed Eric Garner on Staten Island in 2014. Now law enforcement roamed the streets of Canarsie, policing Black children for splashing water in 90-degree heat.
It is not possible to argue that the framers wisely created the electoral college and provided a sound basis for selecting the president in the twenty-first century. The electoral college does not work at all as the framers anticipated. Electors rarely exercise discretion and are condemned when they do. Instead, they are agents of political parties, which did not exist in 1787. The House has not selected the president since 1824. In addition, most of the motivations behind the creation of the electoral college are simply irrelevant today. Legislative election is not an option, there is little danger that the president will be too powerful if directly elected, voters have extraordinary access to information on the candidates, there is no justification at all for either electors or state legislatures to exercise discretion in selecting the president, defending the interests of slavery is unthinkable, and the short-term pressures have long dissipated. Those delegates who wanted electors to exercise independent judgment or be selected by state legislatures would soon be disappointed, and there is no support—and no justification—today for either option. In addition, the broad thrust of constitutional revision over the past two centuries has been in the direction of democratization and majority rule.