Journal articles on the topic 'Messianic era'

The last three messianic claimants to appear in the Jewish diaspora appeared in Yemen in the 19th century. At this time and place the mutual influences of Jews and Muslims were notable both in messianic movements and in literary expression. Muslim society in Yemen was aware of the messianic tension among the Jews, and individual Muslims even took part in each of the known messianic movements. Conversely—and this is the subject of this article—Jewish society, at least on the popular level, was receptive to Muslim apocalyptic ideas and beliefs and integrated them into Jewish apocalyptic anticipations.The belief in messianism and the sharing of ideas on redemption or of the golden age in the eschatological era (i.e., at the End of Time) have long been maintained by the Jews. Some of the concepts that served as paradigms for later messianic speculations were derived from the Bible. For instance, the concept of rescue—the rescue by God of the Israelites from slavery in Egypt—became the example of God's intervention to help his people and mirrored the rescue at the End of Days. Likewise, the Davidic kingdom was believed to be the fulfillment of an ancient covenant between God and the Israelites—and, therefore, the Davidic kingdom became in the history of Jewish messianism the paradigm for how the future kingdom would be, how the covenant would be fulfilled. Also, the term “messiah” (mashiah)—i.e., the anointed one—was originally the official title for the Davidic kings and the early root for the later messiah; hence, it would be a Davidic descendant who would lead the Jews into the messianic age.

This essay presents a selective overview of the main themes of Judeo-Christian eschatological prophecy. Particular attention is paid to the significance of successive biblical covenants, prophecies of the “day of the Lord,” differences between personal and collective resurrection, and expectations of the Messianic era. Although the prophets of the Hebrew Bible and Christian New Testament lived and wrote in diverse historical and social contexts, their foresights were remarkably consistent and collectively offered a coherent picture of the earth’s last days, the culmination of human history, and the prospects of the afterlife. This coherence reflects the interrelated character of Judaic and Christian theology and the unity of the Judeo-Christian faith.

Abstract: the article presents the different conceptions of Messiah in Judaism and in Christianity. Although present in other cultures and religions, the concept of messianism is defined in the Jewish religion, influenced mainly by contexts of crisis. Even if it is a fundamental concept, it is not always convergent. In the Hebrew Bible several messianisms were developed, with proposals of Messiah king, priest and prophet. The figure of David was fundamental in defining various types of messianism, but it was in the post-exile period or in the second temple that messianic ideas developed. At the beginning of the Christian era, the effervescence of messianic proposals sharpened popular expectations. Candidates for messiahs referred to the models of tradition, especially Moses as liberator, Aaron as priest, David as king and Judas Maccabee as military and politician. Christianity resumes texts and ideas about the Messiah, but changes the interpretation, concentrating it on the person of Jesus of Nazareth, called the Christ, the Anointed or the Messiah. Although Jesus embodies various traits of Jewish messianism, he privileges the image of the poor, servant, suffering, peacemaker, merciful and supportive Messiah in the struggle for justice. Despite the different understandings, Messianism must be a cause of common effort between Jews and Christians for peace and justice in the world. O Messias no Judaísmo e no Cristianismo Resumo: o artigo apresenta diferentes concepções de Messias no Judaísmo e no Cristianismo. Embora presente em outras culturas e religiões, o conceito de messianismo se define na religião judaica, influenciado sobretudo pelos contextos de crise. Mesmo se tratando de um conceito fundamental, ele nem sempre é convergente. Na Bíblia Hebraica, se desenvolveram vários messianismos, com propostas de Messias rei, sacerdote e profeta. A figura de Davi foi fundamental para definir diversos tipos de messianismo, mas foi no período do pós-exílio ou do segundo templo que as ideias messiânicas se desenvolveram. No início da era cristã, a efervescência de propostas messiânicas aguçava as expectativas populares. Candidatos a messias traziam como referência os modelos da tradição, principalmente Moisés como libertador, Aarão como sacerdote, Davi como rei e Judas Macabeu como político e militar. O Cristianismo retoma textos e ideias sobre o Messias, mas muda a interpretação, concentrando-a na pessoa de Jesus de Nazaré, chamado o Cristo, o Ungido ou o Messias. Embora Jesus encarne traços diversos do messianismo judaico, ele privilegia a imagem do Messias pobre, servo, sofredor, pacificador, misericordioso e solidário na luta pela justiça. Apesar das diferentes compreensões, o messianismo deve ser motivo de esforço comum entre judeus e cristãos, em vista da paz e da justiça no mundo.

Traditionally Christians have interpreted Isaiah 52. 13–53. 12 as a prophecy of the passion of Christ,1but modern biblical scholars have disagreed about how this identification of the suffering servant with Jesus arose. In particular, those who have investigated the question of whether Jesus saw himself as occupying the role of the servant have reached conflicting conclusions.2In the background of this discussion is another contentious issue, namely, whether a messianic interpretation of the suffering servant had already been adopted in pre-Christian Judaism. Representative of a negative response to this question is H. H. Rowley, who writes: ‘There is no serious evidence … of the bringing together of the concepts of the suffering servant and the Davidic Messiah before the Christian era.’3A much more positive assessment is given by Jeremias, who has championed the view that the first and fourth servant songs were consistently interpreted messianically in Palestinian Judaism, and that it is highly probable that a messianic interpretation of the sufferings of the servant was associated with this.4

Abstract Israel and the Jewish people play a central role in the millennial thought of evangelical Christians. Drawing on older Christian messianic elements, as well as introducing new concepts, evangelicals have looked upon the Jews as historical Israel and at Palestine as ground zero of End-Times millennial events. Beginning in the nineteenth century, evangelicals have become actively involved in attempts to build a Jewish commonwealth in Palestine. They have looked upon the building of a Jewish state as a “sign of the time,” an indication that the current era is ending and the messianic events are about to occur. Especially in the aftermath of the 1967 war, evangelicals have become ardent supporters of Israel, turning in effect into a pro-Israel lobby in Washington and, at times, in other capitals too. Although evangelical Christians are engaged in extensive missionary work among Jews, an unprecedented cooperation has developed between groups of evangelicals and Orthodox-nationalist Jews. Among the mutual projects is the attempt to build the Temple in Jerusalem in preparation for the events preceding the arrival of the Messiah to earth.

O sinal de Caná (água mudada em vinho) assinala a presença do tempo messiânico e, portanto, aponta o segredo da realização humana: o ingresso na órbita do amor. Aparentemente simples o sinal sugere a passagem do formalismo e da coerção para a regência do afeto e da confiança nas relações humanas.Abstract: The sign of Cana (water turned into wine) heralded the presence of the Messianic era and therefore points to the secret of human fulfillment: the entry into the orbit of love. Apparently simple, the sign suggests the passage from formalism and coercion to the rule of affection and trust in human relations.

Born around 1280, the Provencal Jewish philosopher Joseph ibn Kaspi was a prolific writer whose works touched upon a wide range of subjects. I present here an English translation of the eighth chapter of his final work, The Silver is Spent (Tam ha-kesef). In this chapter, Ibn Kaspi discusses the coming of the Messiah and the rebuilding of the temple in Jerusalem. Coloured by his Aristotelian philosophical outlook, the chapter has a number of interesting features, including its naturalistic approach to history, and the arguments presented for the rationality of belief in a future messianic era.

It has long been noted that the relatively expansive Targumim of the Five Scrolls share a number of ‘significant affinities’. These similarities, the expansive nature and structure, the admonition to study Torah and continue to perform good deeds, and the expectation of the coming Messianic era, suggest that they are part of a larger agenda to remind their audiences of God’s guiding hand in Israel’s history and to promote piety. Possibly receiving their final form in the same period and in the same contexts, it seems that the festal use of the biblical texts led to their rather unique formation.

There may be no better way to get to the heart of Jesus' mission than to study Jesus' inaugural address in his hometown Nazareth synagogue. There Jesus proclaimed that he was the anointed one of God and introduced a jubilee era that is programmatic in Luke's Gospel for his holistic mission of grace. But for some listeners with high messianic expectations, it was only half the mission of the Messiah; they also awaited the omitted day of vengeance. Jesus' good news to the poor did not meet exclusive expectations, but was inclusive of Gentiles and outcasts. Jesus' jubilee mission was holistic in four aspects: It was proclaimed and enacted, spiritual and physical, for Jew and Gentile, present and eschatological.

The myth of Prometheus is well known for its rich polymorphism, celebrating the Titan’s contest with the Olympian gods and its demythisation in the contemporary era. To Ernst Bloch “Faust and Prometheus are the major figures of the Renaissance”, while Gilbert Durand describes the relationship between myth and history as a backwards “evhemerism” which enables a messianic reading of the Promethean symbol, especially at the end of the 18th century and beginning of the following. From the Renaissance to the 20th century, the Promethean symbol slides transmedially from the verbalized narrative towards visual arts. With the exhaustion of the Promethean momentum, for Durand as well as Maffesoli, the 20th century assumes the decadent myths of Dionysus and, eventually, a vast Hermetic mythology. This paper highlights several moments and works which marked the dynamic history of the mythical hero, as revealed to us by Aeschylus, Shelley, Goethe, Gide, Ridley Scott etc.

This paper presents a comparative analysis of historiosophical anthropological views of N.A. Berdyaev and I.A. Ilyin during the crisis of historicism when Russian thinkers were among the first to hit upon the anthropological basis of historical knowledge. The results of the comparative analysis have showed that at a certain similarity in the biographies of philosophers N.A. Berdyaevs anthropology apotheosis is a bold breakthrough in the religious era of creativity, the era of the third anthropological revelation. I.A. Ilyin understood anthropology in a narrower way - he paid no attention to the beginnings and ends, his dream was to see transformed, free from communism Russia, which gained a national spirit, transformed into the country of true patriots and religious-minded people with a clear sense of justice of the liberal persuasion. There is an important difference between the thinkers: N.A. Berdyaevs Russian idea is the Messianic, I.A. Ilyins one is rather nationalist. In Berdyaevs opinion the meaning is to go beyond the Russianness in unity, without losing their nationality. I.A. Ilyin believed that the future of Russia is a national dictatorship, whereas N.A. Berdyaev believed in Christian personalistic socialism. I.A. Ilyin was for strong government that would lead the people to a brighter future, while N.A. Berdyaev appealed to an inner catharsis of people, to the Christian overcome of internal contradictions and flaws.

The discovery of America, which was in itself a fateful event in European history, coincided with the crucial transformations taking place in the religious sphere. The development of printing technology, the creation of national translations of the Bible, the rethinking of the established forms of religiosity — all these innovations contributed to the creation of a special religious and religio-political climate of the era. England, which became one of the most successful colonial powers, was at the same time a country experiencing these religious transformations in an especially profound manner. Having proclaimed its ecclesiastical independence from Rome earlier than many other countries, England became a space for an intensive search for a new religious identity and a melting pot of various proto-messianic concepts. In addition, the competition of these new religious doctrines, existing in the shadow of potential and actual state-sanctioned oppression of dissidents, has created a specific environment that makes the issue of political freedom especially relevant and pertinent to the context of Christianity. Having received additional development in America and combined with an increased spread of the anti-colonial nationalist message, all these ideological streams could give a start to one of the most remarkable aspects of early American socio-political thought and identity, within which liberalism, republicanism, providentialism, messianism, and Christian religiosity are woven into a single composition. The debate about the influence of this ideological complex on the development of American identity and statehood continues to this day, sometimes leading to conflicting assessments. However, it seems that this phenomenon is, in one way or another, a remarkable factor in American history, which, to some extent, remains a relevant topic of discussion for modern America.

AbstractThe article provides an overview of Jewish Life-of-Jesus research from Abraham Geiger to Ernst Ludwig Ehrlich. Julius Wellhausen's assessment that Jesus was not Christian but Jewish encountered a Jewish community that was striving for civic equality in the course of the Enlightenment and that saw itself impaired by the idea of the ,,Christian state". The ensuing Jewish concern with the central figure of the New Testament was not of fundamental nature, but rather followed from an apologetic impulse: the wish to participate in general society without having to give up Jewish identity. Since then, many Jewish thinkers of the modern era have studied Jesus. The essay outlines the history of ,,bringing Jesus home" to Judaism, which has been observed since the nineteenth century. Jesus returns as exemplary Jew, as hortatory prophet, as revolutionary and freedom fighter, as big brother and messianic Zionist. The foremost intention though was that Jews wanted to remain Jews and nevertheless be part of Christian society. How fortunate, therefore, that Jesus was Jewish.

The paper deals with particular tactics, established during the Fatimid era, and thus additional to the traditional ones they already possessed, which permitted the Jews to define their niche within Fatimid society. It presents three of these tactics: 1. Production of historical and genealogical documents in order to ameliorate the status of dhimmīs and to achieve an intermediate position of privileged dhimmī. This is illustrated by an analysis of a Geniza document designed as a historical bill of rights accorded by the Prophet Muḥammad to the Jews of Khaybar. 2. The writing of literary-liturgical oeuvres that respond to current persecutions through a messianic interpretation hidden behind laudatory expressions to the Fatimid ruler. It is illustrated by an analysis of the liturgical composition known as “The Egyptian Scroll.” 3. Practices of mourning and repentance intended to cope with mass fear, illustrated through a record of testimony from 1030 about a traumatic event that almost took place in Ramla, but was prevented by a dream. Although the three tactics seem to be very diverse, they all responded to the Fatimid reality and used its language and norms.

AbstractDiplomacy is an international institution, although national and regional diplomatic services keep their own intrinsic identity. Existing differences occasionally interfere with mutual understanding as an essential requirement for overcoming today's instability. Comparative analysis of Western and Russian diplomacy enables deeper insight into some essential reasons for existing differences. The modern model of diplomacy was formed because of the Renaissance, which was characterized by a process of secularization. In Russia this process was delayed by the Byzantine tradition of 'symphony'. From Tsar Peter's era, however, a gradual rapprochement can be observed between the two systems of diplomacy — Western and Russian. However, within new parameters, the ghost of Byzantium appeared now and again. Even under Soviet-imposed atheism, diplomacy was viewed as a tool for a new Messianic universalism (as it was in pre-Petrine times), expressed in terms of 'proletarian internationalism'. New and dramatic events placed an urgent need for a qualitatively new type of diplomacy on the agenda: the European experience, with its emphasis on a solid juridical basis, rationalism and human rights; and the Russian experience, with its universalism that is attentive to existential problems and traditional values. Diplomacy of the future should be based on a synthesis of both European and Russian historical experiences.

The Fajar Nusantara Movement (Gafatar) is an interesting phenomenon in the contemporary era of Indonesia. In the midst of growing rationality and the growth of the world's mainstream religions, Gafatar was born as a new 'religion'. This article discusses Gafatar as a new form of ideology that was born as a result of the ideological crisis experienced by post-Reformation Indonesians. This paper seeks to trace the history of development and the Gafatar teachings used by this organization to recruit new members. Historically, this research was carried out by reviewing existing books and articles and supported by news in the mass media with the perspective of the messianic movement. This article sees that Gafatar is a reincarnation of the Al-Qiyadah Al-Islamiyah and Komar movements in which Ahmad Musaddeq is the central figure. The main factor in the spread of the Gafatar ideology was people's disappointment with Indonesia's economic and political conditions. This is also supported by the ideological crisis factors experienced by some Indonesian people and the weak religious understanding and thirst for spirituality among the middle class. Finally, this article also sees that it is possible to emerge similar movements, so that humanist conflict resolution is needed in order to deal with Gafatar and the schools with certain ideologies that are different from the ideology of the state in the future.

AbstractThis article focuses on Georges Balandier's autobiographical essayAfrique ambiguë(1957). Its translation into English,Ambiguous Africa: Cultures in Collision(1966), provides the basis for an examination of the concept of translation in its linguistic but also, and above all, transcultural dimensions. As a text,Ambiguous Africadoes not quite render the subtlety of the French original but beyond its translational shortcomings, Balandier's book is also shown to conduct an in-depth analysis of late colonialism in sub-Saharan Africa. This era is characterized by a high degree of cultural anxiety on the part of the colonizers and the colonized. Echoing other anti-colonial thinkers of the period – Balandier was a regular contributor toPrésence Africaine– he records the environmental, artistic, psychological,andlinguistic devastation generated by the colonial process in this part of the world. Balandier's assessment is pessimistic, but he identifies the ability of some unassimilated African intellectuals and members of messianic movements such as Matswanism and Kimbanguism to challenge the hegemonic status of the colonial Ur-Text. This emancipative move relies on vernacular intellectual and cultural resources and is driven by an attempt to re-write and translate biblical stories anew. It is argued here that this process of indigenous re-appropriation, however ambiguous it might have been assessed by Balandier, is postcolonial for it bears witness to a partial de-canonization of the colonial source text.

The article is devoted to research of features of mythological model, which is reflected in the late journalism of Valentin Rasputin. The complex of interconnected myths is revealed, their historical roots are traced. The eschatological myth is considered; the author shows that the messianic idea of Russia’s unique role in the world is accompanied by the construction of the enemy image. Images of internal enemies (liberals) and external enemies (Europe and America) are demonized. The eschatological experiences of the crisis moments of “adjustment period” and the beginning of the 21st century are accompanied by utopian nostalgia for the “Golden Age”, which the writer saw in the historical background of Russia, particularly in the Soviet era. The article considers Rasputin’s utopian idea of power and the government leader. Denying liberal values, the writer asserts the idea of a strong ruler, whose main function is to “fulfill God’s laws”. Stalin is recognized as an example of a leader who expressed the «national spirit». Rasputin’s mythology has common features with the concept of “Third Rome” and with some categories of Old Russian autocratic ideology of the 16th century, as well as with the ideas of Old Believers. The article traces the ways of constructing the author’s myth. The writer’s mythology is based on non-critical use of concepts and myths and is based on archetypes of national mythology. Besides, the writer constructs the myth with the help of language tools, creating neologisms and using estimation vocabulary. Rasputin's mythological model reflects the conceptual core of conservative ideology.

The article deals with the problems of democratization as a neocolonial practice. The author argues that the spread of democracy is similar in many respects to colonialism and civilizing mission as universal and even messianic phenomena. He notes that both of these phenomena, despite the similarity of their origin, have different "gender basis" (colonialism has characteristics of masculinity and civilizing mission - of femininity). The author reviewed the history of transforming the concepts of "colonialism" and "civilizing mission". Results parallels between the two phenomena are analyzed as a specific intellectual and public discourse in a particular era influenced the formation of both phenomena. Examples of national civilizing projects, their intellectual potential and influence on contemporary world politics are also considered. The echoes of colonialism and civilizing mission are visible in US and the EU doctrines of democracy promotion. Examining the evolution of approaches to democratization, the author finds the differences in strategic culture of the United States and the European Union: if the American establishment have a propensity to masculine practice of democracy promotion ("democratic enlargement", the project "Greater Middle East", etc.), and European leadership prefers feminine practices. In terms of the post-colonial feminism, this approach does not give these actors any special benefits, as it offers the ineffective governing strategy of the local population, not taking into account, and often denying the specific cultural environment of democracy promotion, paying more attention to institutional characteristics (lack of certain civil rights and freedoms, lack of transparency in the work of public authorities, etc.). The author notes that the current strategy of democracy promotion, though being more complex, creates the effect of "double discrimination", when both the local people and local women (imposing image of "a free and independent Western woman") feel that they are "colonized". Based on an analysis of the current state of democratization, the author proposes four possible scenarios for promoting democracy in the world.

RESUMENEl objetivo principal de este trabajo consiste en sacar a la luz elementos que permitan confirmar un sincretismo cristiano-judío inconsciente, no voluntario, en las creencias y prácticas religiosas de los judeoconversos castellanos en el momento de tránsito de la Edad Media a la Moderna. El trabajo se sustenta en la consulta y análisis de numerosos procesos inquisitoriales incoados a judeoconversos castellanos a fines del siglo XV y comienzos del XVI, así como en otra diversa documentación inquisitorial. A través de las fuentes estudiadas es posible detectar rasgos que evidencian una progresiva confusión entre creencias, expresiones y manifestaciones religiosas cristianas y judías, como expresión más patente de que las transferencias religiosas y la aculturación era una realidad a la que en ese tiempo estaban sujetos los conversos, incluso quienes, como los criptojudíos, se aferraban al judaísmo y manifestaban un firme convencimiento en la superioridad de la religión judía sobre la cristiana. La conclusión principal es que esta situación era el reflejo de una realidad en la que, rotas las conexiones con el judaísmo oficial, la “religión” de los criptojudíosse diluía paulatina y progresivamente en el seno del cristianismo.PALABRAS CLAVE: Judeoconversos, Castilla, fines del siglo XV y comienzos del XVI,sincretismo religioso, procesos inquisitoriales.ABSTRACTThe main objective of this study is to identify certain elements that may confirm an unconscious Christian-Jewish syncretism in the religious beliefs and practices of Castilian Conversos in the transition from the Medieval to the Modern Age. The research is based on consultation and analysis of numerous inquisitorial trials of Castilian Conversos at the end Inquisitorial records. The selected sources allow us to discern certain traits that point to a progressive confusion between Christian and Jewish religious beliefs, expressions and manifestations. This is a clear indication that religious transfer and acculturation constituted a reality to which Conversos were exposed. This was the case even among those who, like Crypto-Jews, clung on to Judaism and expressed a firm conviction of the superiority of the Jewish over the Christian religion. The main conclusion is that, once the connections with official Judaism were broken, the religion of the Crypto-Jews slowly but progressively dissolved into the mainstream of Christianity.KEY WORDS: Conversos, Castile, End of the Fifteenth and Early Sixteenth Centuries, Religious Syncretism, Inquisitorial Trials. BIBLIOGRAFÍAAusejo, S., Diccionario de la Biblia, Barcelona, Editorial Herder, 1964.Baer, F., Die Juden im Christlichen Spanien. I/2. Kastilien/Inquisitionakten, Berlín, 1936.Beinart, H., Records of the Trials of the Spanish Inquisition in Ciudad Real, Jerusalem, The Israel National Academy of Sciences and Humanities, 1974-1985, 4 vols.Beinart, H., “A Prophesyng Movement in Cordova in 1499-1502” (en hebreo), en I.F.Baer Memorial Volume, Zion, 44 (1979), pp. 190-200.Beinart, H., “Tenu’at ha-nebi ah Inés be-Puebla de Alcocer u-be Talarrubias we-anusehen sel ayyarot elleh”, en Tarbiz, 51 (1982), pp. 633-658.Beinart, H., Los conversos ante el tribunal de la Inquisición, Barcelona, Riopiedras Ediciones, 1983.Beinart, H., “Conversos of Chillón and Siruela and the Prophecies of Mari Gómez and Inés, the Daughter of Juan Esteban” (en hebreo), en Zion, 48 (1983), pp. 241-272.Beinart, H., “Anuse Alia (Halia) u-tenu’atah sel ha-nebi’ah Inés” (= “Los judeoconversos de Alía y el movimiento de la profetisa Inés”), en Zion, 53/I (1988), pp. 13-52.Bover, J. Mª, S. I., y Cantera Burgos, F., Sagrada Biblia. Versión crítica sobre los textos hebreo y griego, Madrid, Biblioteca de Autores Cristianos, 1961 (6ª ed.).Carrete Parrondo, C., Fontes Iudaeorum Regni Castellae. II. El Tribunal de la Inquisición en el Obispado de Soria (1486-1502), Salamanca, Universidad Pontificia de Salamanca-Universidad de Granada, 1985.Carrete Parrondo, C., Fontes iudaeorum Regni Castellae. III. Proceso inquisitorial contra los Arias Dávila segovianos: un enfrentamiento social entre judíos y conversos, Salamanca, Universidad Pontificia de Salamanca-Universidad de Granada, 1986.Carrete Parrondo, C. y Fraile Conde, C., Fontes Iudaeorum Regni Castellae. IV. Los judeoconversos de Almazán. 1501-1505. Origen familiar de los Laínez, Salamanca, Universidad Pontificia de Salamanca-Universidad de Granada, 1987.Christian, W. A., Jr., Apariciones en Castilla y Cataluña (siglos XIV-XVI), Madrid, Nerea, 1990.Edwards, J., “Elijah and the Inquisition: Messianic Profhecy among Conversos in Spain, C. 1500”, en Nottingham Medieval Studies, 28 (Nottingham University, 1984), pp. 79-94.Garrido Bonaño, M., O.S.B., Curso de Liturgia Romana, Madrid, Biblioteca de Autores Cristianos, 1961.Gitlitz, D. M., Secreto y engaño. La religión de los criptojudíos, Salamanca, Junta de Castilla y León, 2003.Gracia Boix, R., Colección de documentos para la historia de la Inquisición de Córdoba, Córdoba, Publicaciones del Monte de Piedad y Caja de Ahorros de Córdoba, 1982.Le Goff, J., La naissance du Purgatoire, Paris, Gallimard, 1981.Maier, J. y Schäfer, P., Diccionario del judaísmo, Estella, Editorial Verbo Divino, 1996.Rábade Obradó, M. P., “Expresiones de la religiosidad cristiana en los procesos contra los judaizantes del tribunal de Ciudad Real/Toledo, 1483-1507”, En la España Medieval, 13 (1990), pp. 303-330.Rábade Obradó, M. P., “Religiosidad y práctica religiosa entre los conversos castellanos (1483-1507)”, Boletín de la Real Academia de la Historia, tomo CXCIV, Cuaderno I (Enero-Abril, 1997), pp. 83-141.Rábade Obradó, M. P., “La instrucción cristiana de los conversos en la Castilla del siglo XV”, En la España Medieval, 22 (1999), pp. 369-393.Rábade Obradó, M. P., “Herejía y utopía en la Castilla de los Reyes Católicos. Los conversos y la esperanza mesiánica”, en Contreras Contreras, J., Alvar Ezquerra, J. yRábade Obradó, M. P., “Dos voces femeninas en la Castilla del siglo XV: sueños y visiones de los criptojudíos”, en Alvira Cabrer, M. y Díaz Ibáñez, J., Medievo utópico: sueños, ideales y utopías en el mundo imaginario medieval, Madrid, Sílex ediciones, 2011, pp. 53-66.Ruiz Rodríguez, J. I. (coords.), Política y cultura en la época Moderna. (Cambios dinásticos, milenarismos, mesianismos y utopías), Universidad de Alcalá, 2004, pp. 535-544.Scholem. G., The Messianic Idea in Judaism, New York, Schockem, 1971.Trebolle Barrera, J., “Apocalipticismo y mesianismo en el mundo judío”, en Mangas, J. y Montero, S., (Coords.), El Milenarismo. La percepción del tiempo en las culturas antiguas, Madrid, Editorial Complutense, 2001.

In the era of revolutionary turmoil in 1917, the Ukrainian Constituent Assembly turned out to be one of many attempts to resolve the national question in accordance with the ideals of revolutionary democracy so popular in post-February Russia. Contrary to the hopes of their organizers, the elections to the Constituent Assembly did not lead to parliamentary discussion and political compromise, giving way to other, more radical methods of struggle. The history of this institution illustrated the defeat of Russian liberal messianism, which proved its inconsistency under the conditions of the Russian Revolution and Civil War.

Summary In this text, I argue that there are numerous affinities between 19th century messianism and testimonies of UFO sightings, both of which I regarded as forms of secular millennialism. The common denominator for the comparison was Max Weber’s concept of “disenchantment of the world” in the wake of the Industrial Revolution which initiated the era of the dominance of rational thinking and technological progress. However, the period’s counterfactual narratives of enchantment did not repudiate technology as the source of all social and political evil—on the contrary, they variously redefined its function, imagining a possibility of a new world order. In this context, I analysed the social projects put forward by Polish Romantics in the first half of the 19th century, with emphasis on the role of technology as an agent of social change. Similarly, the imaginary technology described by UFO contactees often has a redemptive function and is supposed to bring solution to humanity’s most dangerous problems.

O presente artigo estuda o cristofascismo, termo usado para designar movimentos mundiais onde a tendência ao totalitarismo neoliberal politicamente e conservador nos costumes torna-se cada vez mais acentuada. Tomando como referencial a obra As origens do totalitarismo, de Hannah Arendt, identificamos o messianismo na construção de um imaginário popular religioso que coloca expectativas no advento de um governo “cristão” que inaugura uma era de justiça na sociedade. Analisamos o cristofascismo na auto-identificação de um líder com esses ideais, e que surge no contexto brasileiro com a eleição de Jair Messias Bolsonaro como presidente da República. Sustentamos a hipótese de que o messias esperado atua politicamente amparado pela religião. A associação foi feita a partir da frase do ministro Ernesto Araújo, que compara Bolsonaro a Jesus: a pedra rejeitada pelos construtores e que se tornou a principal. Abstract: This paper studies Christofascism as a term used to designate world movements where the tendency towards totalitarian neoliberalism and conservatism is becoming increasingly pronounced. Taking Hannah Arendt’s The Origins of Totalitarianism as a reference, we identify Messianism in the construction of a popular religious imaginary that places expectations on the advent of a “Christian” government that will inaugurate an era of justice in society. We analyze Christofascism in the self-identification of a leader with these ideals, and wich arises in the Brazilian context from the election of Jair Messias Bolsonaro as President of the Republic. We support the hypothesis that the expected messiah acts politically supported by religion.The association was made from the words of Minister Ernesto Araújo, who compares Bolsonaro to Jesus: the stone rejected by the builders and that became the main one.Keywords: Cornerstone; Christofascism; Messianism; Jair Bolsonaro; Totalitarianism.

<p>Neste artigo, destaca-se a importância de alguns estudos que se dedicaram a compreender o agir político das classes subalternas por meio da análise do fenômeno religioso do fanatismo ou do messianismo. É o que se depreende dos ensaios pioneiros de Nina Rodrigues e Arthur Ramos e das análises sociológicas de Roger Bastide e Maria Isaura Pereira de Queiroz. Com a passagem do ensaio para a sociologia consolidou-se a explicação da crença messiânica pela noção de mana. A partir disso, uma nova interpretação foi elaborada para os anseios políticos da classe subalterna e para a liderança a que ela se conforma.</p><p><strong>NOTES ON THE CONSCIENCE OF SUBALTERN CLASSES IN SOME BRAZILIAN STUDIES </strong></p><p>The article emphasizes the importance of some studies dedicated to understand the subaltern classes performance through the analysis of fanaticism or the messianism phenomena. That can be noticed on pioneer essays of Nina Rodrigues and Arthur Ramos, and in the sociological analysis of Roger Bastide and Maria Isaura Pereira de Queiroz. With the passage from essay to sociology, the explanation of messianism was consolidated by the notion of mana. This new perspective enable us to elaborate another interpretation of the political aspirations of subaltern classes, as well as the leadership that they allow to be subjected.</p><p>Key-words: Conscience of subaltern classes. Messianism. Brazilian social thought. Sociology</p><p><strong>NOTES SUR LA CONSCIENCE DES CLASSES SUBALTERNES DANS CERTAINSETUDES BRESILIENS </strong></p><p>L´article met en evidence l’importance de certains études qui se dediquent à comprendre l’actuation politique des classes subalternes à travers de l’analyse du phénomène du fanatisme ou messianisme. C’est cella qui on peut retrouver dans des essais pionniers de Nina Rodrigues et de Arthur Ramos, et dans les analyses sociologiques de Roger Bastide et Maria Isaura Pereira de Queiroz. On observe qui, avec la passage du essai à la sociologie, se consolide la explication de la croyance messianique par la notion demana. Avec cette nouvelle perspective s`elabore une nouvelle intérpretation sur les aspirations de la classe subalterne, aussi qu’une compreension de la leadership à laquelle cette classe se conforme.</p><p>Mots-clés: Conscience de la classe subalterne. Messianisme. Pensée socialle brésilienne. Sociologie.</p><p> </p>

The article is devoted to the analysis of the «Annals of Bohemia» written by the cardinal Giovanni de’ Marignolli, an outstanding literary monument of the Charles IV era, in which the Czechs are first portrayed as God’s chosen people. The goal of the chronicle is to write the history of the Czech people in the world historical process. Based on his own etymological and ethnogenetic assumptions, the chronicler calls the Slavs «a sunny and glorious people», who are called upon to turn the Holy Roman Empire into a paradise on Earth. At the same time, the author singles out the Czechs of all the Slavs, setting them in opposition to the Poles and the Slavic peoples professing Orthodoxy. The emperor Karl is portrayed in the chronicle as «the new Messiah», the head of all real Christians, in whose person the Czech people’s sense of existence is fully realized. This monument has not been previously paid deserved attention, due to its historical unreliability, but its main side is not factual, but ideological. The de’ Marignolli’s chronicle is of great interest to any researcher, since it had a strong influence on the Czech court intellectual environment of the turn of the 14-15th centuries and through this on the ideology of the Hussites. Such concentrated messianism is found in the Czech chronicles for the first time.

Even in today’s “postmodern” world, Norwid cannot be reduced to a single formula. He is rather a “constellation,” requiring that readers join the “continual discussion” on issues specific to a given era. His focus is on humanity, which he regards from a dualist perspective that necessitates pursuing a synthesis of matter and spirit under the sign of ethical universalism. Norwid refers to the “cupola of ‘a monologue-that-keeps-parabolizing-itself’” andregards culture as the parable of the world. His original aesthetics of “whiteness” refers, as it were, to the biblical “gentle gust of wind,” which announces God’s presence and indicates the rejection of the Romantic veneration for volcanoes, which he contrasts with the importance of work. This kind of philosophy, developed by Brzozowski, Tischner and John Paul II, has led to the self-limiting revolution of Solidarity in the years 1980-81, and ultimately to the de-legitimization and fall of communism; finally, after the bloody myth of the French Revolution reigned for two hundred years, this philosophy altered the paradigm of historical changes around the world. Norwid elaborated on the industrial-era Romanticism and opposed martyrological messianism, developing the original idea of a “messianism of work,”linking it with a vision of human Church, which “burns through the Globe with conscience.”He would contrast the global church with the parochial “church-turned-living-room.”Human beings count more than institutions, he argued, just like goodness prevails over formal sacraments. With the ultimate goal defined as the resurrection of the world, art becomes a church of work. Norwid embraced an anthropocentric perspective, in which human beings are called upon “to un-make” [od-poczynać] the mistakes of the past, and thus to begin afresh at a whole new level. With his language and style Norwid was constructing a new social stratum: intelligentsia (Łapiński), understanding it as the nation’s copula, i.e. the unifying force of conscienceand the collective consciousness. It would form an interpersonal, horizontal transcendence spanning the length and breadth of societies. The opposite of nation and its culture is “empire” – the root of subjugation – which particularly enslaved Central and Eastern Europe. Of special importance is the clash between Asian civilization and the “Roman” one, i.e. Christianity or Western Europe. However, the poet opposes Slavs to both the Westerners and the Easterners, emphasizing the processualand not the essentialistcharacter of national cultures. The question whether Norwid’s work is fundamentally dialogic or monologic in character continues to divide scholars. However, Norwid is in a way a Master or teacherwho embodies the Other and incarnates Wisdom in his Voice and Gesture. The nature of Wisdom is anthropocentric because man is a priest, although “involuntary / And immature,” which abolishes the distinction between the sacred and the profane. Through his ethical universalism Norwid provides a solution to the Enlightenment crisis of universal reason. Emancipation of the individual should not entail abandoning a sense of belonging, which is something that Norwid’s modernism shares with that of Central Europeans (Ch. Delsol). Understood as the expression of collective desires, cultures shape responsibility and a sense of belonging, at the same time constituting an answer to the crisis of narcissistic individualism characteristic for our times.

Louis Hartz asked some very important questions in The Liberal Tradition in America. One that seems especially relevant in the aftermath of invasions of Afghanistan and Iraq, and to which I will point only briefly, concerns America's relationship with the rest of the world. Hartz wrote that America's “messianism is the polar counterpart of its isolationism,” and that it had “hampered insight abroad and heightened anxiety at home.” He contended that America had difficulty communicating with the rest of the world because the American liberal creed, even in its Alger form, “is obviously not a theory which other peoples can easily appropriate or understand,” and that absence of the experience of social revolution in America's history lies at the heart of our inability to understand how to lead others. Henry Kissinger contends that, in a post-cold war era, American exceptionalism with its rejection of history, extolling “the image of a universal man living by universal maxims, regardless of the past, of geography, or of other immutable circumstances,” is a kind of innocence ill-suited to successful diplomacy in the emerging world order. We talk a great deal about bringing freedom, democracy, and self-determination to the Middle East, but this hardly seems an apt description of what is happening on the ground. Do we have anything to teach? Hartz, who was quite skeptical about our ability to export the American liberal tradition, might still have something useful to say about our interactions abroad, even in a post-cold war world.

This article addresses rabbi and philosopher of religion Jacob Taubes’s claim that he had “presented the apocalypse of the revolution, although free from the illusions of messianic Marxists like Ernst Bloch and Walter Benjamin.” Detailing the shape of Taubes’s thought in relation to Bloch and Benjamin, it explores the manner in which Taubes embraces their respective messianisms while also charting an interiorized departure predicated upon a history of messianic crisis in Sabbateanism and early Christianity. Further, it frames this in terms of their respective historical contexts. Contrary to the Weimar-era messianism of Bloch and Benjamin inflected by an open futurity despite catastrophe, Taubes's messianism takes shape in response to a foreclosed future brought on by the events of the postwar era.

In Homo Sacer, Giorgio Agamben criticizes Michel Foucault's distinction between 'productive' bio-power and 'deductive' sovereign power, emphasizing that it is not possible to distinguish between these two. In his view, the production of what he calls 'bare life' is the original, although concealed, activity of sovereign power. In this article, Agamben's conclusions are called into question. (1) The notion of 'bare life', distinguished from the 'form of life', belongs exclusively to the order of sovereignty, being incompatible with the modern bio-political notion of life, that is univocal and immanent to itself. In the era of bio-politics, life is already a bios that is only its own zoe ('form-of-life'). (2) Violence is not hidden in the foundation of bio-politics; the 'hidden' foundation of bio-politics is love (agape) and care (cura), 'care for individual life'. (3) Bio-politics is not absolutised in the Third Reich; the only thing that the Third Reich absolutises is the sovereignty of power (Aryan race) and the nakedness of life (the Jews). (4) St Paul's 'messianic revolution' does not endow us with the means of breaking away from the closure of bio-political rationality; on the contrary, Paul's 'messianic revolution' is a historical precondition for the deployment of modern bio-politics. (5) Instead of homo sacer, who is permitted to kill without committing homicide, the paradigmatic figure of the bio-political society can be seen, for example, in the middle-class Swedish social-democrat.

The struggle between two souls in the work of Walter Schubart.This essay explores the relevance of the work of Walter Schubart (1897-±1941), a virtually unknown cultural philosopher from Lithuania, for today. The writer focuses on the importance of Schubart’s programme of spiritual rebirth and on his intriguing vision for the people of Europe today. To counterbalance the metaphysical egotism of Europe, Schubart finds in Russia, and in Dostoyevsky in particular, a living consciousness of a relation to the whole that could heal Europe. The twentieth century is for Schubart a battlefield between, on the one hand, the promethean period of deserting God focusing on the earth, and on the other hand, the johannean period of the Messianic era that acts out of a desire for charity and healing. Despite criticism of Schubart’s somewhat simplistic views of cultural history, the author emphasises the surprising topical manner in which Schubart’s cultural critique confronts modern Western culture with a critical reflection of itself.

The article explores various aspects of understanding Paul. It focuses on his use of the expression ‘the gospel of God’ as the ‘good news’ that originates with God (a subjective genitive) and one that is about God (an objective genitive). The article argues that the cross and resurrection constitute the core of Paul’s message and that this message demands a new ethos because of the ‘dying and rising’ in participation with Christ Jesus. For Paul, the messianic era had already commenced. In Paul’s point of view, the heart of the gospel was the announcement of a historical happening, namely the crucifixion of the historical Jesus which is connected to another ‘event’, namely the resurrection of Jesus, which does not qualify as history. For Paul, faith is engagement with the kerygma, and not a kind of loyalty to inherited religious customs. Faith implies undivided loyalty, a personal decision and commitment to believe what is proclaimed.

The article is devoted to the consideration of the qualities of Napoleonic and Alexanderian empire as a “style of empire” and their manifestation in the musical and historical tradition of France and Russia in the first half of the XIX century. The typology of this style is directly associated with the essence of the concept of “empire” as a universal state, pursuing the goals of world domination or leadership and possessing a kind of cultural civilizational mission. For the French absolutism of the New Age and its imperial “hypostasis” in the XIX century, the emphasis on the enlightening and civilizing mission is indicative, while in the history of the Russian Empire, throughout all stages of its existence, the spiritual-messianic idea of understanding Russia as a guardian has been consistently upheld (as “Third Rome”) Orthodoxy inherited from Byzantium. The musical “signs” of the empire became those genre spheres in which the scale of design and ideas were combined with reliance on typical, universally significant means of musical expression, the genesis of which often goes back to the spiritual and religious tradition. The empirical qualities of French musical culture are considered in the example of the poetry of the musical theater of G. Spontini, summarizing the cultural and historical realities of France of the era of the first empire, while the choral polonaises of O. Kozlovsky, which absorbed the sacred genesis and typology of edging, anthem and polonaise, become a sign-symbol of the Alexanderian Empire and its associated imperial court culture.

Motion pictures and the art of movie making started communicating with the audience and entertaining people decades before the first movie with dialogues came into existence. Pre-eminent directors and movie maestros reveled in the art of expressing emotions through their cinematic pieces without explicitly constructing them into dialogues. Wong Kar-wai, Chinese film director, is one such movie maker who gives his creations the wholeness and beauty of a painting. Through “In the Mood for Love”, “2046”, “Chungking express”, “Happy Together” etc. Wong Kar-wai, held art house audiences across the entire globe captive in his enigmatically beguiling form of art. His films are noted for its rhythmic unveiling of plot, photographic and semi-mask techniques and an intense personal flare. In the Mood for Love, often referred to as one of the greatest cinematic productions of the era, instantly earned the title of being a chef-d'œuvre with its unconventional take on a rather conventional story. The movie, starring Tony Leung Chiu-wai and Maggie Cheung Man-yuk, is deemed to be a classic for its unsurpassable cinematography, hauntingly messianic soundtrack and transfixing mise-en-scène which act as the major mediums through which the characters communicate their inner lives to the audience

AbstractThe iconography of the biblical story of Balaam and the she-ass, told in Numbers 22-24, dates right back to the early Christian era. It depicts the confrontation of Balaam with the angel, whom he did not see blocking his way until his donkey opened his eyes by speaking to him. The simple scene, composed of a donkey rider beating his mount with raised club opposite an angel with raised sword, never before included a pouch containing papers and a kind of stick. From the fact that Rembrandt added this motif to the traditional image and gave it a prominent place in his composition (fig. 1) one may conclude that he meant to convey by this something very significant.Balak, king of Moab, induced the famous magician Balaam to come and curse the Israelites who had entered the plains of Moab. God, using Balaam as his temporary prophet, allowed him to go, provided that he would speak His words and bless Israel instead of cursing it. It was to this stringent condition that the angel reminded him halfway his journey. Upon his arrival Balaam blessed Israel three times. Beside himself with anger Balak sent him home without paying him. Before he went the prophet cursed the king, speaking the famous words: "I shall see him, but not now: I shall behold him, but not nigh: there shall come a Star out of Jacob, and a Sceptre shall rise out of Israel, and shall smite the corners of Moab, and destroy all the children of Seth" (Numbers 24:17). This enunciation has always been taken as a Messianic prophecy.During the middle ages the sheer image of Balaam and the she-ass sufficed to evoke the Messianic prophecy. However, in some versions of the fifteenth-century Speculum Humanae Salvationis and Biblia Pauperum a star is added to the scene (fig. 2), obviously in order to remind one of the true meaning of the image.Depictions of Balaam and the she-ass had always been statical and emotionless but in the sixteenth century the dramatic potential of the story was recognized and fully exploited (fig. 3). At the same time the meaning of the scene was confined to the miracle of the speaking donkey, like any other miracle a sign of God's omnipotence. Moralistic interpretations were also possible. Maerten van Heemskerck, for instance, focussed on Balaam's reputation as being a miser (fig. 5). By the time Pieter Lastman painted Balaam and the she-ass (fig. 4) in 1622, the subject had become polyinterpretable.By adding a pouch with papers and a kind of stick Rembrandt indicated how his Balaam picture had to be understood. The leather pouch is an interesting object in itself, which Rembrandt and some of his contemporaries used several times in their work between 1615 and 1635 (figs. 7 and 8a-g). The papers with illegible writing in quasi-Hebrew letters represent Balaam's prophecies, one may assume, and the stick, in point of fact a commander's baton (figs. 9-11), metaphorically indicates which prophecy exactly is at issue. Unquestionably the Messianic one about the star coming out of Jacob and the sceptre rising out of Israel. In the late middle ages the star had been used occasionally as reference mark but this was no option for Rembrandt, because Balaam travelled by day. The alternative was the sceptre. The fact that Rembrandt depicted a commander's baton instead of a sceptre proves that he did not use a reformatory bible translation but either a catholic one or the Vulgata itself. Reformatory translations (all based on Luther's translation in German, which has 'Zepter') have 'scepter' (sceptre), whereas catholic translations (based on the Vulgata) have 'roede' (baton). The Vulgata has not 'sceptrum' but 'virga', i.e. verge, baton.Why did Rembrandt revive the Messianic meaning of the Balaam story? Most probably because his commissioner wanted him to do so. For Alfonso López, up to now known only as the first owner of the painting and who is supposed to have purchased it directly from Rembrandt, may very well have ordered it from him. Recent research has shown that he, a financial agent of Richelieu in Holland, was a 'morisco', a Spanish Muslim converted to Christianity. A convert may be interested in speaking donkeys but certainly more so in the coming of Christ.

Existing proposals regarding the structure of Mark 4:1–34 have not met with unqualified approval. This article proposes a simple structure for Mark 4:1–34, then highlights relevant presuppositions before providing an overview of the content of this passage. The structure elevates the parable of the lamp to a prominent position and it also pairs corresponding sections so that it becomes easier to identify the mystery that undergirds each of these parables. The collective message of Mark 4:1–34 may be that while the establishment of the Messianic kingdom has been postponed, God is sowing the word, not only in Israel, but all over the world. When the sowing of the word meets with a responsive ear and heart, God gives the believer the mystery of the kingdom and, viewed collectively, God will also bring a harvest of sons and daughters into the kingdom when it is established. It is important for all to hear, not only so that the hearers become believers and then to bear some fruit, but also because God will graciously bless to the extent that a person listens effectively. It is in this context that the parable of the lamp shines new light on Mark’s parabolic discourse.

AbstractIn this article, I respond to John Betz (University of Notre Dame, USA) who has recently rejected claims that I have made about Erich Przywara’s anti- Semitism and his relationship to Nazi era ideology. Although I admire much of Przywara’s theology and have great sympathy for the teaching about the analogy of being, in this article I address some of the problems of Przywara’s work. I address literature from Przywara on the Jews where he talks about the essence of “the Jew” as “restless” and “revolutionary,” and where he brings up the “wandering Jew” theme or claims Judaism is an “insolent disturber” of the (German) “folkdom.” Przywara’s rejection of “Jewish messianism” and his claims about the “basic tension of the Jew” are also addressed. I analyze his conception of the essence of “the Jew” as, among other things, a “rising will of destruction” and his claim that “Christianity” ultimately becomes the “enemy” of Judaism. Beyond these things, Przywara’s desire to “overcome” Judaism with the right “weapons” is addressed. I also draw attention to his rejection of “Jewish capitalism” and his justification of “the hatred towards the Jews in world history.” In addition to this, his use of ideologically charged Nazi terminology, such as “host-peoples,” and his support of Catholic integralism in Nazi Germany are addressed. Furthermore, Przywara’s remarks (to a leading Nazi representative and ideologue, Hanns Johst) on “the positive sense” of the German “movements” (i. e. National Socialism) in the 1930s are presented. I also show that Przywara”s work was praised by a leading representative and ideologue of National Socialism (Otto Dietrich). With this, I address the internal Nazi correspondences on the very influential German Catholic Jesuit journal titled Stimmen der Zeit

The twentieth was, from one perspective, the democratic century — a span of one hundred years which began with no fully functioning democracies in existence anywhere on the planet (if one defines democracy as a political system in which there is both universal suffrage and competitive elections), and ended with 120 countries out of 192 classified by the Freedom House think tank as ‘democratic’. There are of course still many societies where democracy is denied or effectively neutered — the remaining outposts of state socialism, such as China, Cuba, and North Korea; most if not all of the Islamic countries; exceptional states such as Singapore, unapologetically capitalist in its economic system but resolutely authoritarian in its political culture. Many self-proclaimed democracies, including those of the UK, Australia and the US, are procedurally or conceptually flawed. Countries emerging out of authoritarian systems and now in a state of democratic transition, such as Russia and the former Soviet republics, are immersed in constant, sometimes violent struggle between reformers and reactionaries. Russia’s recent parliamentary elections were accompanied by the intimidation of parties and politicians who opposed Vladimir Putin’s increasingly populist and authoritarian approach to leadership. The same Freedom House report which describes the rise of democracy in the twentieth century acknowledges that many self-styled democracies are, at best, only ‘partly free’ in their political cultures (for detailed figures on the rise of global democracy, see the Freedom House website Democracy’s Century). Let’s not for a moment downplay these important qualifications to what can nonetheless be fairly characterised as a century-long expansion and globalisation of democracy, and the acceptance of popular sovereignty, expressed through voting for the party or candidate of one’s choice, as a universally recognised human right. That such a process has occurred, and continues in these early years of the twenty-first century, is irrefutable. In the Gaza strip, Hamas appeals to the legitimacy of a democratic election victory in its campaign to be recognised as the voice of the Palestinian people. However one judges the messianic tendencies and Islamist ideology of Mahmoud Ahmadinejad, it must be acknowledged that the Iranian people elected him, and that they have the power to throw him out of government next time they vote. That was never true of the Shah. The democratic resurgence in Latin America, taking in Venezuela, Peru and Bolivia among others has been a much-noted feature of international politics in recent times (Alves), presenting a welcome contrast to the dictatorships and death squads of the 1980s, even as it creates some uncomfortable dilemmas for the Bush administration (which must champion democratic government at the same time as it resents some of the choices people may make when they have the opportunity to vote). Since 9/11 a kind of democracy has expanded even to Afghanistan and Iraq, albeit at the point of a gun, and with no guarantees of survival beyond the end of military occupation by the US and its coalition allies. As this essay was being written, Pakistan’s state of emergency was ending and democratic elections scheduled, albeit in the shadow cast by the assassination of Benazir Bhutto in December 2007. Democracy, then — imperfect and limited as it can be; grudgingly delivered though it is by political elites in many countries, and subject to attack and roll back at any time — has become a global universal to which all claim allegiance, or at least pay lip service. The scale of this transformation, which has occurred in little more than one quarter of the time elapsed since the Putney debates of 1647 and the English revolution first established the principle of the sovereignty of parliament, is truly remarkable. (Tristram Hunt quotes lawyer Geoffrey Robertson in the Guardian to the effect that the Putney debates, staged in St Mary’s church in south-west London towards the end of the English civil war, launched “the idea that government requires the consent of freely and fairly elected representatives of all adult citizens irrespective of class or caste or status or wealth” – “A Jewel of Democracy”, Guardian, 26 Oct. 2007) Can it be true that less than one hundred years ago, in even the most advanced capitalist societies, 50 per cent of the people — women — did not have the right to vote? Or that black populations, indigenous or migrant, in countries such as the United States and Australia were deprived of basic citizenship rights until the 1960s and even later? Will future generations wonder how on earth it could have been that the vast majority of the people of South Africa were unable to vote until 1994, and that they were routinely imprisoned, tortured and killed when they demanded basic democratic rights? Or will they shrug and take it for granted, as so many of us who live in settled democracies already do? (In so far as ‘we’ includes the community of media and cultural studies scholars, I would argue that where there is reluctance to concede the scale and significance of democratic change, this arises out of continuing ambivalence about what ‘democracy’ means, a continuing suspicion of globalisation (in particular the globalisation of democratic political culture, still associated in some quarters with ‘the west’), and of the notion of ‘progress’ with which democracy is routinely associated. The intellectual roots of that ambivalence were various. Marxist-leninist inspired authoritarianism gripped much of the world until the fall of the Berlin Wall and the end of the cold war. Until that moment, it was still possible for many marxians in the scholarly community to view the idea of democracy with disdain — if not quite a dirty word, then a deeply flawed, highly loaded concept which masked and preserved underlying social inequalities more than it helped resolve them. Until 1989 or thereabouts, it was possible for ‘bourgeois democracy’ to be regarded as just one kind of democratic polity by the liberal and anti-capitalist left, which often regarded the ‘proletarian’ or ‘people’s’ democracy prevailing in the Soviet Union, China, Cuba or Vietnam as legitimate alternatives to the emerging capitalist norm of one person, one vote, for constituent assemblies which had real power and accountability. In terms not very different from those used by Marx and Engels in The German Ideology, belief in the value of democracy was conceived by this materialist school as a kind of false consciousness. It still is, by Noam Chomsky and others who continue to view democracy as a ‘necessary illusion’ (1989) without which capitalism could not be reproduced. From these perspectives voting gave, and gives us merely the illusion of agency and power in societies where capital rules as it always did. For democracy read ‘the manufacture of consent’; its expansion read not as progressive social evolution, but the universalisation of the myth of popular sovereignty, mobilised and utilised by the media-industrial-military complex to maintain its grip.) There are those who dispute this reading of events. In the 1960s, Habermas’s hugely influential Structural Transformation of the Public Sphere critiqued the manner in which democracy, and the public sphere underpinning it, had been degraded by public relations, advertising, and the power of private interests. In the period since, critical scholarly research and writing on political culture has been dominated by the Habermasian discourse of democratic decline, and the pervasive pessimism of those who see democracy, and the media culture which supports it, as fatally flawed, corrupted by commercialisation and under constant threat. Those, myself included, who challenged that view with a more positive reading of the trends (McNair, Journalism and Democracy; Cultural Chaos) have been denounced as naïve optimists, panglossian, utopian and even, in my own case, a ‘neo-liberal apologist’. (See an unpublished paper by David Miller, “System Failure: It’s Not Just the Media, It’s the Whole Bloody System”, delivered at Goldsmith’s College in 2003.) Engaging as they have been, I venture to suggest that these are the discourses and debates of an era now passing into history. Not only is it increasingly obvious that democracy is expanding globally into places where it never previously reached; it is also extending inwards, within nation states, driven by demands for greater local autonomy. In the United Kingdom, for example, the citizen is now able to vote not just in Westminster parliamentary elections (which determine the political direction of the UK government), but for European elections, local elections, and elections for devolved assemblies in Scotland, Wales and Northern Ireland. The people of London can vote for their mayor. There would by now have been devolved assemblies in the regions of England, too, had the people of the North East not voted against it in a November 2004 referendum. Notwithstanding that result, which surprised many in the New Labour government who held it as axiomatic that the more democracy there was, the better for all of us, the importance of enhancing and expanding democratic institutions, of allowing people to vote more often (and also in more efficient ways — many of these expansions of democracy have been tied to the introduction of systems of proportional representation) has become consensual, from the Mid West of America to the Middle East. The Democratic Paradox And yet, as the wave of democratic transformation has rolled on through the late twentieth and into the early twenty first century it is notable that, in many of the oldest liberal democracies at least, fewer people have been voting. In the UK, for example, in the period between 1945 and 2001, turnout at general elections never fell below 70 per cent. In 1992, the last general election won by the Conservatives before the rise of Tony Blair and New Labour, turnout was 78 per cent, roughly where it had been in the 1950s. In 2001, however, as Blair’s government sought re-election, turnout fell to an historic low for the UK of 59.4 per cent, and rose only marginally to 61.4 per cent in the most recent general election of 2005. In the US presidential elections of 1996 and 2000 turnouts were at historic lows of 47.2 and 49.3 per cent respectively, rising just above 50 per cent again in 2004 (figures by International Institute for Democracy and Electoral Assistance). At local level things are even worse. In only the second election for a devolved parliament in Scotland (2003) turnout was a mere 48.5 per cent, rising to 50.5 in 2007. These trends are not universal. In countries with compulsory voting, they mean very little — in Australia, where voting in parliamentary elections is compulsory, turnout averages in the 90s per cent. In France, while turnouts for parliamentary elections show a similar downward trend to the UK and the UK, presidential contests achieve turnouts of 80-plus per cent. In the UK and US, as noted, the most recent elections show modest growth in turnout from those historic lows of the late 1990s and early Noughties. There has grown, nonetheless, the perception, commonplace amongst academic commentators as well as journalists and politicians themselves, that we are living through a ‘crisis’ of democratic participation, a dangerous decline in the tendency to vote in elections which undermines the legitimacy of democracy itself. In communication scholarship a significant body of research and publication has developed around this theme, from Blumler and Gurevitch’s Crisis of Public Communication (1996), through Barnett and Gaber’s Westminster Tales (2000), to more recent studies such as Lewis et al.’s Citizens or Consumers (2005). All presume a problem of some kind with the practice of democracy and the “old fashioned ritual” of voting, as Lewis et al. describe it (2). Most link alleged inadequacies in the performance of the political media to what is interpreted as popular apathy (or antipathy) towards democracy. The media are blamed for the lack of public engagement with democratic politics which declining turnouts are argued to signal. Political journalists are said to be too aggressive and hyper-adversarial (Lloyd), behaving like the “feral beast” spoken of by Tony Blair in his 2007 farewell speech to the British people as prime minister. They are corrosively cynical and a “disaster for democracy”, as Steven Barnett and others argued in the first years of the twenty first century. They are not aggressive or adversarial enough, as the propaganda modellists allege, citing what they interpret as supine media coverage of Coalition policy in Iraq. The media put people off, rather than turn them on to democracy by being, variously, too nice or too nasty to politicians. What then, is the solution to the apparent paradox represented by the fact that there is more democracy, but less voting in elections than ever before; and that after centuries of popular struggle democratic assemblies proliferate, but in some countries barely half of the eligible voters can be bothered to participate? And what role have the media played in this unexpected phenomenon? If the scholarly community has been largely critical on this question, and pessimistic in its analyses of the role of the media, it has become increasingly clear that the one arena where people do vote more than ever before is that presented by the media, and entertainment media in particular. There has been, since the appearance of Big Brother and the subsequent explosion of competitive reality TV formats across the world, evidence of a huge popular appetite for voting on such matters as which amateur contestant on Pop Idol, or X Factor, or Fame Academy, or Operatunity goes on to have a chance of a professional career, a shot at the big time. Millions of viewers of the most popular reality TV strands queue up to register their votes on premium phone lines, the revenue from which makes up a substantial and growing proportion of the income of commercial TV companies. This explosion of voting behaviour has been made possible by the technology-driven emergence of new forms of participatory, interactive, digitised media channels which allow millions to believe that they can have an impact on the outcome of what are, at essence, game and talent shows. At the height of anxiety around the ‘crisis of democratic participation’ in the UK, observers noted that nearly 6.5 million people had voted in the Big Brother UK final in 2004. More than eight million voted during the 2004 run of the BBC’s Fame Academy series. While these numbers do not, contrary to popular belief, exceed the numbers of British citizens who vote in a general election (27.2 million in 2005), they do indicate an enthusiasm for voting which seems to contradict declining rates of democratic participation. People who will never get out and vote for their local councillor often appear more than willing to pick up the telephone or the laptop and cast a vote for their favoured reality TV contestant, even if it costs them money. It would be absurd to suggest that voting for a contestant on Big Brother is directly comparable to the act of choosing a government or a president. The latter is recognised as an expression of citizenship, with potentially significant consequences for the lives of individuals within their society. Voting on Big Brother, on the other hand, is unmistakeably entertainment, game-playing, a relatively risk-free exercise of choice — a bit of harmless fun, fuelled by office chat and relentless tabloid coverage of the contestants’ strengths and weaknesses. There is no evidence that readiness to participate in a telephone or online vote for entertainment TV translates into active citizenship, where ‘active’ means casting a vote in an election. The lesson delivered by the success of participatory media in recent years, however — first reality TV, and latterly a proliferation of online formats which encourage user participation and voting for one thing or another — is that people will vote, when they are able and motivated to do so. Voting is popular, in short, and never more so, irrespective of the level of popular participation recorded in recent elections. And if they will vote in their millions for a contestant on X Factor, or participate in competitions to determine the best movies or books on Facebook, they can presumably be persuaded to do so when an election for parliament comes around. This fact has been recognised by both media producers and politicians, and reflected in attempts to adapt the evermore sophisticated and efficient tools of participatory media to the democratic process, to engage media audiences as citizens by offering the kinds of voting opportunities in political debates, including election processes, which entertainment media have now made routinely available. ITV’s Vote for Me strand, broadcast in the run-up to the UK general election of 2005, used reality TV techniques to select a candidate who would actually take part in the forthcoming poll. The programme was broadcast in a late night, low audience slot, and failed to generate much interest, but it signalled a desire by media producers to harness the appeal of participatory media in a way which could directly impact on levels of democratic engagement. The honourable failure of Vote for Me (produced by the same team which made the much more successful live debate shows featuring prime minister Tony Blair — Ask Tony Blair, Ask the Prime Minister) might be viewed as evidence that readiness to vote in the context of a TV game show does not translate directly into voting for parties and politicians, and that the problem in this respect — the crisis of democratic participation, such that it exists — is located elsewhere. People can vote in democratic elections, but choose not to, perhaps because they feel that the act is meaningless (because parties are ideologically too similar), or ineffectual (because they see no impact of voting in their daily lives or in the state of the country), or irrelevant to their personal priorities and life styles. Voting rates have increased in the US and the UK since September 11 2001, suggesting perhaps that when the political stakes are raised, and the question of who is in government seems to matter more than it did, people act accordingly. Meantime, media producers continue to make money by developing formats and channels on the assumption that audiences wish to participate, to interact, and to vote. Whether this form of participatory media consumption for the purposes of play can be translated into enhanced levels of active citizenship, and whether the media can play a significant contributory role in that process, remains to be seen. References Alves, R.C. “From Lapdog to Watchdog: The Role of the Press in Latin America’s Democratisation.” In H. de Burgh, ed., Making Journalists. London: Routledge, 2005. 181-202. Anderson, P.J., and G. Ward (eds.). The Future of Journalism in the Advanced Democracies. Aldershot: Ashgate Publishing, 2007. Barnett, S. “The Age of Contempt.” Guardian 28 October 2002. < http://politics.guardian.co.uk/media/comment/0,12123,820577,00.html >. Barnett, S., and I. Gaber. Westminster Tales. London: Continuum, 2001. Blumler, J., and M. Gurevitch. The Crisis of Public Communication. London: Routledge, 1996. Habermas, J. The Structural Transformation of the Public Sphere. Cambridge: Polity Press, 1989. Lewis, J., S. Inthorn, and K. Wahl-Jorgensen. Citizens or Consumers? What the Media Tell Us about Political Participation. Milton Keynes: Open University Press, 2005. Lloyd, John. What the Media Are Doing to Our Politics. London: Constable, 2004. McNair, B. Journalism and Democracy: A Qualitative Evaluation of the Political Public Sphere. London: Routledge, 2000. ———. Cultural Chaos: News, Journalism and Power in a Globalised World. London: Routledge, 2006.

The twentieth was, from one perspective, the democratic century — a span of one hundred years which began with no fully functioning democracies in existence anywhere on the planet (if one defines democracy as a political system in which there is both universal suffrage and competitive elections), and ended with 120 countries out of 192 classified by the Freedom House think tank as ‘democratic’. There are of course still many societies where democracy is denied or effectively neutered — the remaining outposts of state socialism, such as China, Cuba, and North Korea; most if not all of the Islamic countries; exceptional states such as Singapore, unapologetically capitalist in its economic system but resolutely authoritarian in its political culture. Many self-proclaimed democracies, including those of the UK, Australia and the US, are procedurally or conceptually flawed. Countries emerging out of authoritarian systems and now in a state of democratic transition, such as Russia and the former Soviet republics, are immersed in constant, sometimes violent struggle between reformers and reactionaries. Russia’s recent parliamentary elections were accompanied by the intimidation of parties and politicians who opposed Vladimir Putin’s increasingly populist and authoritarian approach to leadership. The same Freedom House report which describes the rise of democracy in the twentieth century acknowledges that many self-styled democracies are, at best, only ‘partly free’ in their political cultures (for detailed figures on the rise of global democracy, see the Freedom House website Democracy’s Century). Let’s not for a moment downplay these important qualifications to what can nonetheless be fairly characterised as a century-long expansion and globalisation of democracy, and the acceptance of popular sovereignty, expressed through voting for the party or candidate of one’s choice, as a universally recognised human right. That such a process has occurred, and continues in these early years of the twenty-first century, is irrefutable. In the Gaza strip, Hamas appeals to the legitimacy of a democratic election victory in its campaign to be recognised as the voice of the Palestinian people. However one judges the messianic tendencies and Islamist ideology of Mahmoud Ahmadinejad, it must be acknowledged that the Iranian people elected him, and that they have the power to throw him out of government next time they vote. That was never true of the Shah. The democratic resurgence in Latin America, taking in Venezuela, Peru and Bolivia among others has been a much-noted feature of international politics in recent times (Alves), presenting a welcome contrast to the dictatorships and death squads of the 1980s, even as it creates some uncomfortable dilemmas for the Bush administration (which must champion democratic government at the same time as it resents some of the choices people may make when they have the opportunity to vote). Since 9/11 a kind of democracy has expanded even to Afghanistan and Iraq, albeit at the point of a gun, and with no guarantees of survival beyond the end of military occupation by the US and its coalition allies. As this essay was being written, Pakistan’s state of emergency was ending and democratic elections scheduled, albeit in the shadow cast by the assassination of Benazir Bhutto in December 2007. Democracy, then — imperfect and limited as it can be; grudgingly delivered though it is by political elites in many countries, and subject to attack and roll back at any time — has become a global universal to which all claim allegiance, or at least pay lip service. The scale of this transformation, which has occurred in little more than one quarter of the time elapsed since the Putney debates of 1647 and the English revolution first established the principle of the sovereignty of parliament, is truly remarkable. (Tristram Hunt quotes lawyer Geoffrey Robertson in the Guardian to the effect that the Putney debates, staged in St Mary’s church in south-west London towards the end of the English civil war, launched “the idea that government requires the consent of freely and fairly elected representatives of all adult citizens irrespective of class or caste or status or wealth” – “A Jewel of Democracy”, Guardian, 26 Oct. 2007) Can it be true that less than one hundred years ago, in even the most advanced capitalist societies, 50 per cent of the people — women — did not have the right to vote? Or that black populations, indigenous or migrant, in countries such as the United States and Australia were deprived of basic citizenship rights until the 1960s and even later? Will future generations wonder how on earth it could have been that the vast majority of the people of South Africa were unable to vote until 1994, and that they were routinely imprisoned, tortured and killed when they demanded basic democratic rights? Or will they shrug and take it for granted, as so many of us who live in settled democracies already do? (In so far as ‘we’ includes the community of media and cultural studies scholars, I would argue that where there is reluctance to concede the scale and significance of democratic change, this arises out of continuing ambivalence about what ‘democracy’ means, a continuing suspicion of globalisation (in particular the globalisation of democratic political culture, still associated in some quarters with ‘the west’), and of the notion of ‘progress’ with which democracy is routinely associated. The intellectual roots of that ambivalence were various. Marxist-leninist inspired authoritarianism gripped much of the world until the fall of the Berlin Wall and the end of the cold war. Until that moment, it was still possible for many marxians in the scholarly community to view the idea of democracy with disdain — if not quite a dirty word, then a deeply flawed, highly loaded concept which masked and preserved underlying social inequalities more than it helped resolve them. Until 1989 or thereabouts, it was possible for ‘bourgeois democracy’ to be regarded as just one kind of democratic polity by the liberal and anti-capitalist left, which often regarded the ‘proletarian’ or ‘people’s’ democracy prevailing in the Soviet Union, China, Cuba or Vietnam as legitimate alternatives to the emerging capitalist norm of one person, one vote, for constituent assemblies which had real power and accountability. In terms not very different from those used by Marx and Engels in The German Ideology, belief in the value of democracy was conceived by this materialist school as a kind of false consciousness. It still is, by Noam Chomsky and others who continue to view democracy as a ‘necessary illusion’ (1989) without which capitalism could not be reproduced. From these perspectives voting gave, and gives us merely the illusion of agency and power in societies where capital rules as it always did. For democracy read ‘the manufacture of consent’; its expansion read not as progressive social evolution, but the universalisation of the myth of popular sovereignty, mobilised and utilised by the media-industrial-military complex to maintain its grip.) There are those who dispute this reading of events. In the 1960s, Habermas’s hugely influential Structural Transformation of the Public Sphere critiqued the manner in which democracy, and the public sphere underpinning it, had been degraded by public relations, advertising, and the power of private interests. In the period since, critical scholarly research and writing on political culture has been dominated by the Habermasian discourse of democratic decline, and the pervasive pessimism of those who see democracy, and the media culture which supports it, as fatally flawed, corrupted by commercialisation and under constant threat. Those, myself included, who challenged that view with a more positive reading of the trends (McNair, Journalism and Democracy; Cultural Chaos) have been denounced as naïve optimists, panglossian, utopian and even, in my own case, a ‘neo-liberal apologist’. (See an unpublished paper by David Miller, “System Failure: It’s Not Just the Media, It’s the Whole Bloody System”, delivered at Goldsmith’s College in 2003.) Engaging as they have been, I venture to suggest that these are the discourses and debates of an era now passing into history. Not only is it increasingly obvious that democracy is expanding globally into places where it never previously reached; it is also extending inwards, within nation states, driven by demands for greater local autonomy. In the United Kingdom, for example, the citizen is now able to vote not just in Westminster parliamentary elections (which determine the political direction of the UK government), but for European elections, local elections, and elections for devolved assemblies in Scotland, Wales and Northern Ireland. The people of London can vote for their mayor. There would by now have been devolved assemblies in the regions of England, too, had the people of the North East not voted against it in a November 2004 referendum. Notwithstanding that result, which surprised many in the New Labour government who held it as axiomatic that the more democracy there was, the better for all of us, the importance of enhancing and expanding democratic institutions, of allowing people to vote more often (and also in more efficient ways — many of these expansions of democracy have been tied to the introduction of systems of proportional representation) has become consensual, from the Mid West of America to the Middle East. The Democratic Paradox And yet, as the wave of democratic transformation has rolled on through the late twentieth and into the early twenty first century it is notable that, in many of the oldest liberal democracies at least, fewer people have been voting. In the UK, for example, in the period between 1945 and 2001, turnout at general elections never fell below 70 per cent. In 1992, the last general election won by the Conservatives before the rise of Tony Blair and New Labour, turnout was 78 per cent, roughly where it had been in the 1950s. In 2001, however, as Blair’s government sought re-election, turnout fell to an historic low for the UK of 59.4 per cent, and rose only marginally to 61.4 per cent in the most recent general election of 2005. In the US presidential elections of 1996 and 2000 turnouts were at historic lows of 47.2 and 49.3 per cent respectively, rising just above 50 per cent again in 2004 (figures by International Institute for Democracy and Electoral Assistance). At local level things are even worse. In only the second election for a devolved parliament in Scotland (2003) turnout was a mere 48.5 per cent, rising to 50.5 in 2007. These trends are not universal. In countries with compulsory voting, they mean very little — in Australia, where voting in parliamentary elections is compulsory, turnout averages in the 90s per cent. In France, while turnouts for parliamentary elections show a similar downward trend to the UK and the UK, presidential contests achieve turnouts of 80-plus per cent. In the UK and US, as noted, the most recent elections show modest growth in turnout from those historic lows of the late 1990s and early Noughties. There has grown, nonetheless, the perception, commonplace amongst academic commentators as well as journalists and politicians themselves, that we are living through a ‘crisis’ of democratic participation, a dangerous decline in the tendency to vote in elections which undermines the legitimacy of democracy itself. In communication scholarship a significant body of research and publication has developed around this theme, from Blumler and Gurevitch’s Crisis of Public Communication (1996), through Barnett and Gaber’s Westminster Tales (2000), to more recent studies such as Lewis et al.’s Citizens or Consumers (2005). All presume a problem of some kind with the practice of democracy and the “old fashioned ritual” of voting, as Lewis et al. describe it (2). Most link alleged inadequacies in the performance of the political media to what is interpreted as popular apathy (or antipathy) towards democracy. The media are blamed for the lack of public engagement with democratic politics which declining turnouts are argued to signal. Political journalists are said to be too aggressive and hyper-adversarial (Lloyd), behaving like the “feral beast” spoken of by Tony Blair in his 2007 farewell speech to the British people as prime minister. They are corrosively cynical and a “disaster for democracy”, as Steven Barnett and others argued in the first years of the twenty first century. They are not aggressive or adversarial enough, as the propaganda modellists allege, citing what they interpret as supine media coverage of Coalition policy in Iraq. The media put people off, rather than turn them on to democracy by being, variously, too nice or too nasty to politicians. What then, is the solution to the apparent paradox represented by the fact that there is more democracy, but less voting in elections than ever before; and that after centuries of popular struggle democratic assemblies proliferate, but in some countries barely half of the eligible voters can be bothered to participate? And what role have the media played in this unexpected phenomenon? If the scholarly community has been largely critical on this question, and pessimistic in its analyses of the role of the media, it has become increasingly clear that the one arena where people do vote more than ever before is that presented by the media, and entertainment media in particular. There has been, since the appearance of Big Brother and the subsequent explosion of competitive reality TV formats across the world, evidence of a huge popular appetite for voting on such matters as which amateur contestant on Pop Idol, or X Factor, or Fame Academy, or Operatunity goes on to have a chance of a professional career, a shot at the big time. Millions of viewers of the most popular reality TV strands queue up to register their votes on premium phone lines, the revenue from which makes up a substantial and growing proportion of the income of commercial TV companies. This explosion of voting behaviour has been made possible by the technology-driven emergence of new forms of participatory, interactive, digitised media channels which allow millions to believe that they can have an impact on the outcome of what are, at essence, game and talent shows. At the height of anxiety around the ‘crisis of democratic participation’ in the UK, observers noted that nearly 6.5 million people had voted in the Big Brother UK final in 2004. More than eight million voted during the 2004 run of the BBC’s Fame Academy series. While these numbers do not, contrary to popular belief, exceed the numbers of British citizens who vote in a general election (27.2 million in 2005), they do indicate an enthusiasm for voting which seems to contradict declining rates of democratic participation. People who will never get out and vote for their local councillor often appear more than willing to pick up the telephone or the laptop and cast a vote for their favoured reality TV contestant, even if it costs them money. It would be absurd to suggest that voting for a contestant on Big Brother is directly comparable to the act of choosing a government or a president. The latter is recognised as an expression of citizenship, with potentially significant consequences for the lives of individuals within their society. Voting on Big Brother, on the other hand, is unmistakeably entertainment, game-playing, a relatively risk-free exercise of choice — a bit of harmless fun, fuelled by office chat and relentless tabloid coverage of the contestants’ strengths and weaknesses. There is no evidence that readiness to participate in a telephone or online vote for entertainment TV translates into active citizenship, where ‘active’ means casting a vote in an election. The lesson delivered by the success of participatory media in recent years, however — first reality TV, and latterly a proliferation of online formats which encourage user participation and voting for one thing or another — is that people will vote, when they are able and motivated to do so. Voting is popular, in short, and never more so, irrespective of the level of popular participation recorded in recent elections. And if they will vote in their millions for a contestant on X Factor, or participate in competitions to determine the best movies or books on Facebook, they can presumably be persuaded to do so when an election for parliament comes around. This fact has been recognised by both media producers and politicians, and reflected in attempts to adapt the evermore sophisticated and efficient tools of participatory media to the democratic process, to engage media audiences as citizens by offering the kinds of voting opportunities in political debates, including election processes, which entertainment media have now made routinely available. ITV’s Vote for Me strand, broadcast in the run-up to the UK general election of 2005, used reality TV techniques to select a candidate who would actually take part in the forthcoming poll. The programme was broadcast in a late night, low audience slot, and failed to generate much interest, but it signalled a desire by media producers to harness the appeal of participatory media in a way which could directly impact on levels of democratic engagement. The honourable failure of Vote for Me (produced by the same team which made the much more successful live debate shows featuring prime minister Tony Blair — Ask Tony Blair, Ask the Prime Minister) might be viewed as evidence that readiness to vote in the context of a TV game show does not translate directly into voting for parties and politicians, and that the problem in this respect — the crisis of democratic participation, such that it exists — is located elsewhere. People can vote in democratic elections, but choose not to, perhaps because they feel that the act is meaningless (because parties are ideologically too similar), or ineffectual (because they see no impact of voting in their daily lives or in the state of the country), or irrelevant to their personal priorities and life styles. Voting rates have increased in the US and the UK since September 11 2001, suggesting perhaps that when the political stakes are raised, and the question of who is in government seems to matter more than it did, people act accordingly. Meantime, media producers continue to make money by developing formats and channels on the assumption that audiences wish to participate, to interact, and to vote. Whether this form of participatory media consumption for the purposes of play can be translated into enhanced levels of active citizenship, and whether the media can play a significant contributory role in that process, remains to be seen. References Alves, R.C. “From Lapdog to Watchdog: The Role of the Press in Latin America’s Democratisation.” In H. de Burgh, ed., Making Journalists. London: Routledge, 2005. 181-202. Anderson, P.J., and G. Ward (eds.). The Future of Journalism in the Advanced Democracies. Aldershot: Ashgate Publishing, 2007. Barnett, S. “The Age of Contempt.” Guardian 28 October 2002. http://politics.guardian.co.uk/media/comment/0,12123,820577,00.html>. Barnett, S., and I. Gaber. Westminster Tales. London: Continuum, 2001. Blumler, J., and M. Gurevitch. The Crisis of Public Communication. London: Routledge, 1996. Habermas, J. The Structural Transformation of the Public Sphere. Cambridge: Polity Press, 1989. Lewis, J., S. Inthorn, and K. Wahl-Jorgensen. Citizens or Consumers? What the Media Tell Us about Political Participation. Milton Keynes: Open University Press, 2005. Lloyd, John. What the Media Are Doing to Our Politics. London: Constable, 2004. McNair, B. Journalism and Democracy: A Qualitative Evaluation of the Political Public Sphere. London: Routledge, 2000. ———. Cultural Chaos: News, Journalism and Power in a Globalised World. London: Routledge, 2006. Citation reference for this article MLA Style McNair, Brian. "Vote!." M/C Journal 10.6/11.1 (2008). echo date('d M. Y'); ?> <http://journal.media-culture.org.au/0804/01-mcnair.php>. APA Style McNair, B. (Apr. 2008) "Vote!," M/C Journal, 10(6)/11(1). Retrieved echo date('d M. Y'); ?> from <http://journal.media-culture.org.au/0804/01-mcnair.php>.