Journal articles on the topic 'Women political activists – East Timor'

This research examines the rise of Islamic populism in Indonesia and understands it as an instrument to clear a new pathway for populism movement into popular culture. Ummi magazine is one of the religious media used to be political vehicles of stablishing constituencies, especially for the Tarbiyah movement in the Soeharto era to the current tendency to popularize the Tarbiyah identity as a new lifestyle. Historically, The Tarbiyah movement in Indonesia is a social and political movement among Indonesian Muslimah students, especially activists in the Suharto period. Muslim middle class entrepreneurs launched a campaign of ‘economic jihad. This research uses a qualitative approach by interpreting and studying the data contained in Ummi Magazine. Media studies were carried out in the January 2017 to 2018 editions. The data obtained were described and associated with the magazine's transformation as an ideological medium and Muslim women's lifestyle today. The result shows that the magazine's transformation from ideology magazine to lifestyle magazine can influence readers because there are more new readers. Whether Ummi as a media for da'wah and a women's magazine, it is still perceived by the readers to apply ideological coercion or simply provide an alternative lifestyle or consumption where religious independence is the main characteristic of the magazine. We argue that Islamic populism is mainly a medium for coercion ideology to gain tracks to power, while the poor remain as ‘floating mass’, and entrapped in many so-called 'empowerment' projects. Populism can be interpreted as a communication style in which a group of politicians considers themselves to represent the people’s interests contrasted with elite interests. Nevertheless, the populism approach is gaining momentum. Abdullah, I. (1996). Tubuh, Kesehatan, dan Struktur yang Melemahkan Wanita. Kumpulan Makalah Seminar Bulanan. Pusat Penelitian Kependudukan UGM.Al-Abani, S. M. 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The Impact of Colonialism on Women’s Status in Senegal.Ph.D Dissertation, Harvard University.Barthes, R. (1977). Image, Music, Text. Fortana Press.Bertrand, I., & Hughes, P. (2005). Media Research Methods: Audiences, Institutions, Texts. Palgrave Mecmillan.Bordo, S. (1995). Unbearable Weight : Feminism, Western Culture, and The Body. University of California Press.Branner, S. (1995). Why Women Rule the Roost: Rethiking Javanese Ideologies of Gender and Self-Control. In Bewitching Women, Pioner Men. University of California Press.______. (1996). ‘Reconstructing Self and Society, Javannese Muslim Women and The Veil’. American Ethnologist.Bruneinessen, M. v. (2002). ‘Genealogies of Islamic Radicalism in Post-Suharto Indonesia’. South East Asian Research. Champagne, J. (2004). Jilbab Gaul. Bali. Latitudes, 46, 114-123.Damanik, A. S. (2000). Fenomena Partai Keadilan: Transformasi 20 Tahun Gerakan Tarbiyah di Indonesia. Mizan.Durkin, K. (1985). 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Discourse and Communication Journal, 3(4), 345-369. https://doi.org/10.1177/1750481309343870Gramsci, A. (1992). Selection from The Prison on Notebooks. International Publisher.Gorham, B. W. (2004). The Social Psychology of Stereotypes: Implications for Media Audiences. In Race/Gender/Media: Considering Diversity Across Audiences, Content, and Producers. Pearson.Hall, S. (1997). The Work Of Representation. In Representation: Cultural Representations and Signifying Practices. SAGE Publication.Handayani, D. (2014). Performatifitas Muslimah dalam Majalah Ummi. At-Tabsyir. Jurnal Komunikasi Penyiaran Islam, 2(1), 73-98. http://doi.org/10.21043/at-tabsyir.v2i1.461.Hanifah, U. (2011). Konstruksi Ideologi Gender pada Majalah Wanita (Analisis Wacana Kritis Majalah Ummi). KOMUNIKA: Jurnal Dakwah dan Komunkasi, 5(2), 199-220. https://doi.org/10.24090/komunika.v5i2.170Imdadun, R. (2005). Arus Baru Iislam Radikal: Transmisi, Revivalisme Islam Timur Tengah ke Indonesiaan. Erlangga.Itzin, C.(1986). 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This paper examines early warning of, and political responses to, mass atrocities in East Timor in the late 1970s. Using newly-declassified intelligence and diplomatic records, it describes Indonesia’s invasion of East Timor in 1975 and its three year military campaign to crush the East Timorese resistance. It shows that the campaign resulted in mass deaths due to famine and disease, and considers the United Nations’ response to the unfolding crisis. It evaluates the level of international awareness of the humanitarian crisis in East Timor by inspecting contemporaneous eyewitness reports by foreign diplomats from states with a keen interest in Indonesia: Australia, the United States, New Zealand and Canada. In contrast to a popular, highly lauded view, the paper shows that these states did not “look away”; rather, they had early warning and ongoing knowledge of the catastrophe but provided military and diplomatic assistance to Indonesia. The paper contrasts a counter-productive effort by civil society activists with a very effective one, and thus demonstrates the role that robust scholarship can play in terminating atrocities.

AbstractAlthough nonviolent resistance assumes the moral high ground because its tactics do not intend to harm adversaries, severe ethical difficulties arise when nonviolent activists intentionally provoke harm to themselves. This occurs in a process called “backfire,” as hunger strikers or demonstrators provoke a disproportionately brutal and often lethal response from their adversaries to draw world attention and sympathy to their cause. As cases studies from Ireland, East Timor, and Israel demonstrate, backfire can offer insurgents and national liberation movements significant strategic gains. In Ireland, a 1981 IRA hunger strike radicalized the IRA's campaign against Britain. In East Timor, the massacre of hundreds of Timorese demonstrating for independence in 1991 galvanized world opinion and eventually brought international intervention and statehood. In Israel, the Marmara flotilla of 2010 and mass demonstrations in Gaza in the spring of 2018 refocused world attention on Palestinian grievances while easing the Israeli-imposed land and naval blockade. These events were transformative, but their success depended upon the careful cultivation of violence. An anathema to ideological nonviolence, backfire is often used by strategic activists who will mix violent and nonviolent tactics as circumstances demand. Ethically discharging this tactic requires organizers to articulate feasible operational goals while protecting minors, to mitigate risk, to obtain free and informed consent from participants, and to constantly evaluate the costs and benefits of political action.

Woman had been neglected from the political affairs in the early of post-independent era. It raised the concerns of women activists on political participation. They realized Timorese women had played a significant role in fighting for independence along with male veterans. Caucus Feto Iha Politika appears as the prominent NGO in Timor-Leste that promoting gender equality in politics. It resulted the rising of women’s representation in Timor-Leste Parliament significantly. Moreover, its woman participation in parliament achieves the highest percentage in the Asia Pacific. This research lies on the question of how does the role of Caucus Feto Iha Politika in increasing women’s representation in parliament of Timor-Leste. The data obtained from primary and secondary sources by conducting the in-depth interview and library research. In order to answer the research question, the authors reiterated the three main components of NGOs roles –implementer, catalyst, and partner by Lewis as the analytical framework. The authors humbly concluded that for increasing the number of women MPs, Caucus Feto Iha Politika played two prominent roles, as follows: 1) catalyst, by advocating the policy change of women-friendly legislative quota policy to the Government of Timor-Leste, and 2) partner, by working closely with the related stakeholders to increase the capacity of potential female candidates and elected women MPs through capacity building.

While much of the literature related to women and democratization in the MiddleEast neglects the role of women in this process, Wanda Krause persuasivelyargues that the grassroots activism of Middle Eastern women plays a vital rolein democratizing the region. Krause contends that this scholarly neglect is aresult of the literature’s (1) prioritizing the state (over civil society) and secularism(over religious groups), (2) ignoring the feminine (at the expense of thefeminist) and the practical (at the expense of the political), and (3) relegatingwomen’s concerns, like family issues, to “the private sphere and overlookedas having any meaning to the public” (p. 49). She further criticizes this literaturefor what she considers its orientalist attitude, which often manifests itself asexcessive attention to women’s dress, segregation, polygamy, and female genitalmutilation (FGM) and thus constructs a passive and oppressed image ofMuslim women. To fully understand the role of Middle Eastern women, Krauseurges scholars to focus not just on the government’s formal structures, but alsoto pay attention to civil society and investigate how beliefs, values, and everydaypractices both expand it and advance democratic values ...

The struggle of women to actualize themselves in the political arena is very difficult since the situation that always accompanies is even an obstacle for them to move freely. Meanwhile, political reform which occurred in Indonesia has certainly given great opportunity to women to participate. In this study, the sampling technique is purposive sampling. The analysis technique used in this study is using interactive model analysis. The results of the research are vote casting the most basic of political participation which women are already involved in general election to vote for governor of East Kalimantan. They have realized that their vote determines the future of their region. For this the simplest form of political participation, most of the women in East Kalimantan have performed their right.The role of the participation of women activists is important in inviting women in East Kalimantan to participate in general elections. To increase activist women's participation is not only the responsibility of one party. Political education for women needs to be held more widely, not only for certain groups. Efforts to increase women's participation in politics certainly need systemic collaboration from various parties from the government, political parties, and community organizations.

Este artigo tem como objetivo articular aspectos da cultura do Timor-Leste com a Educação Matemática Escolar. Especificamente, a investigação descreve e analisa os “Tais”, roupas tradicionais, cuja existência antecede o período colonial e são conhecidos por todo o povo do Timor-Leste. A parte empírica da pesquisa foi realizada através de procedimentos de inspiração etnográfica e envolveu cinco mulheres tecelãs de diferentes postos administrativos pertencentes ao município de Lautem no Timor-Leste. O material empírico coletado foi analisado tendo como principal referencial teórico a Etnomatemática. Especificamente, neste artigo, foram analisados os padrões e elementos geométricos presentes nos Tais. Assim, foram evidenciadas possíveis articulações com a Educação Matemática a partir do trabalho com sequências, elementos da geometria, paralelismo, perpendicularidade e transformações geométricas. Afirmamos, ao longo deste trabalho que além dos conteúdos matemáticos, existe a necessidade de que as aulas de matemática abriguem discussões que envolvam diferentes dimensões da vida timorense, seja em seus aspectos sociais, políticos e ou culturais.Palavras-chave: Timor Leste. Tais. Etnomatemática. Educação matemática escolar. Abstract: This article aims to articulate aspects of the East Timor culture with the School Mathematics Education. Specifically, the research describes and analyzes the tais, traditional clothing, whose existence predates the colonial period and are known to all the people of Timor-Leste. The empirical part of the research was carried out through ethnographic inspiration procedures and involved five weavers women from different posts administratives belonging to the Lautem city in East Timor. The empirical data collected was analyzed with the main theoretical framework to Ethnomathematics. Specifically in this article, the patterns and geometric elements present in the Tais were analyzed. Thus, possible articulations with Mathematical Education were evidenced from the work with sequences, elements of geometry, parallelism, perpendicularity and geometric transformations. However, I punctuate that these concepts should not be disconnected from the tais weaving process. Put in another way discuss the need for math classes entertain discussions involving different dimensions of Timorese life whether in its social, political and or cultural.Keywords: East Timor. “Tais”. Ethnomathematics. School Mathematics education.

How do women's rights activists mobilize in nondemocratic and culturally conservative contexts? Why do some women's movements succeed in securing the policy outcomes they seek while others fail to realize their objectives? Comparing two recent cases of feminist activism in the Middle East/North Africa region—the Moroccan and Iranian campaigns for family law reform—the article demonstrates the way that political opportunity structures shape the strategic options available to activists and influence movement frames. While a political opening is conducive to movement growth and success, including cooperation for legal and policy reform (Morocco), the closing of political space compels extrainstitutional feminist contention and transnational links (Iran). In examining the structure of political opportunity in addition to strategic choices, the paper addresses the interplay of structure and agency in mobilization processes and finds that—to paraphrase Marx—women and men make history, but not under conditions of their own choosing.

ABSTRACTAfter 1945 both German states overturned longstanding laws and policies from the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries that designated women as second-class citizens in spousal rights, parental authority and marital property. From the early postwar years, female politicians and activists in the women's movement pursued in both Germanys reforms of the obsolete marriage and family law. The article compares how these women and mainly male legislators in both states envisioned the role of women in the family and in gender relations. It shows that these debates in the FRG and the GDR were influenced on the one hand by earlier, pre-1933 ideas, and on the other hand reacted to Nazi-era politics. Yet, because of their different political, economic and social conditions, discourses and policies developed in the context of the Cold War in both states in different directions, though they continued to be related to each other.

The ethical and political dilemmas posed by the construction and international circulation of discourses on women's rights in the Middle East are formidable. The plight of “Muslim women” has long occupied a special place in the Western political imagination, whether in colonial officials' dedication to saving them from barbaric practices or development projects devoted to empowering them. In the past fifteen years or so, through a series of international conferences and the efforts of feminist activists, women's rights have come to be framed successfully as universal human rights. Building on the U.N. conferences on women that started in 1975 and led to other initiatives, the appropriate arena of women's rights work has been redefined from the national to the international.

In an era of vacillations between threats of a nuclear war and promises of peace breakthroughs in East Asia, this article takes examples from public campaigns of women’s peace groups—such as Women’s Peace Walk, Women Cross DMZ (the Demilitarized Zone), Women’s Active Museum on War and Peace, and PeaceWomen Across the Globe—and argues for feminist scholarship to take an interdisciplinary approach and, in particular, to fuse peace studies with cultural studies, political economy, and global geopolitics. Doing so requires an examination of the history and the scope of the military-industrial complex, its relationship with finance capital, its bonds with governments and political parties, and its business patterns in relation to wars and conflicts all over the world. It also is crucial to sow the seeds of reconciliation and peace into the daily life of ordinary people. Thus, historians, cultural workers, educationists, writers, and scholar activists of different areas must undertake long-term sustained work for reconciliation and peace at the grassroots level as well as networking at the regional and global levels.

The uprisings that led to regime change during the early period of the Arab Spring were initially inclusive and pluralistic in nature, with men and women from every political and religious orientation engaging actively in political activities on the street and in virtual spaces. While there was an opening of political space for women and the inclusion of demands of marginalized groups in the activists’ agenda, the struggle to reimagine national identities that balance Islamic roots and secular yearnings is still ongoing in many countries in the region. This paper seeks to deepen understanding of the extent to which the pluralistic sentiments and openness to accepting the rights women have persisted following the uprising. We aim to examine changes in attitudes towards women’s equality in countries that underwent regime change through popular uprisings during revolutionary upheavals of the Arab Spring and in countries where regimes have remained unchanged. Using available data from consecutive rounds of the Arab Barometer survey, we examine changes in attitudes in nine countries with two rounds of Arab Barometer during and post Arab Spring (Egypt, Yemen, Tunisia, Algeria, Lebanon, Sudan, Jordan, Iraq, Palestine). We find that support for “Muslim feminism” (an interpretation of gender equality grounded in Islam) has increased over the period and particularly in Arab Spring countries, while support for “secular feminism” has declined. In most countries examined, relatively high degrees of support for gender equality co-exist with a preference for Islamic interpretations of personal status codes pertaining to women. We discuss the implications of these findings for academics and activists concerned with women’s rights in the Middle East North Africa (MENA).

Many Arab and Muslim countries have a long history of women’s activism.Depending on location and historical moment, women activists have drawninspiration from a wide array of sources, including both religious and seculardiscourses. In all cases, however, one main issue is how legal systemsand processes of legal reform on the one hand, and social relations andeveryday life on the other hand, relate to each other.At this conference, held in The Hague, The Netherlands, on March 4-5, 2004, the tensions between legal systems and social life were discussed.The conference was organized by the Arabic Dutch Women Circle (ANVK)in cooperation with the municipality of The Hague and the InternationalDialogues Foundation (IDF). The ANVK is a Dutch non-profit organizationdedicated to promoting cultural exchange between Dutch and Arabsocieties, and, in particular, between Dutch and Arab women. The ANVKorganizes conferences, meetings, debates, and exhibitions to stimulate dialogueand exchange.Among other things, the conference sought to clarify that class, ethnicity,political system, history, and cultural factors are of wider influence thanjust law or religious factors themselves. The constitutions of almost allArab and Muslim countries proclaim equal rights for all, regardless of race,sex, language, and religion. However, the implementation of these rights isoften a problem. By inviting a group of women activists and academicsfrom the Middle East, as well as representatives of various sectors of Dutchsociety and of the Arab and Muslim communities in The Netherlands, theconference also aimed at stimulating discussion about Arab women’s rightsand practices.The conference was chaired by Professor Annelies Moors, chair of theInternational Institute for the Study of Islam in the Modern World (ISIM)at the University of Amsterdam. The first day was open to the general publicand consisted of a plenary session in which four papers were presented, ...

Edward Aspinall, Islam and nation; Separatist rebellion in Aceh, Indonesia. (Gerry van Klinken) Greg Bankoff and Sandra Swart (with Peter Boomgaard, William Clarence-Smith, Bernice de Jong Boers and Dhiravat na Pombejra), Breeds of empire; The ‘invention’ of the horse in Southeast Asia and Southern Africa 1500–1950. (Susie Protschky) Peter Boomgaard, Dick Kooiman and Henk Schulte Nordholt (eds), Linking destinies; Trade, towns and kin in Asian history. (Hans Hägerdal) Carstens, Sharon A. Histories, cultures, identities; Studies in Malaysian Chinese worlds. (Kwee Hui Kian) T.P. Tunjanan; m.m.v. J. Veenman, Molukse jongeren en onderwijs: quick scan 2008. Germen Boelens, Een doel in mijn achterhoofd; Een verkennend onderzoek onder Molukse jongeren in het middelbaar beroepsonderwijs. E. Rinsampessy (ed.), Tussen adat en integratie; Vijf generaties Molukkers worstelen en dansen op de Nederlandse aarde. (Fridus Steijlen) Isaäc Groneman, The Javanese kris. (Dick van der Meij) Michael C. Howard, A world between the warps; Southeast Asia’s supplementary warp textiles. (Sandra Niessen) W.R. Hugenholtz, Het geheim van Paleis Kneuterdijk; De wekelijkse gesprekken van koning Willem II met zijn minister J.C. Baud over het koloniale beleid en de herziening van de grondwet 1841-1848. (Vincent Houben) J. Thomas Lindblad, Bridges to new business; The economic decolonization of Indonesia. (Shakila Yacob) Julian Millie, Splashed by the saint; Ritual reading and Islamic sanctity in West Java. (Suryadi) Graham Gerard Ong-Webb (ed.), Piracy, maritime terrorism and securing the Malacca Straits. (Karl Hack) Natasha Reichle, Violence and serenity; Late Buddhist sculpture from Indonesia. (Claudine Bautze-Picron, Arlo Griffiths) Garry Rodan, Kevin Hewison and Richard Robison (eds), The political economy of South-East Asia; Markets, power and contestation. (David Henley) James C. Scott, The art of not being governed; An anarchist history of upland Southeast Asia. (Guido Sprenger) Guido Sprenger, Die Männer, die den Geldbaum fällten; Konzepte von Austausch und Gesellschaft bei den Rmeet von Takheung, Laos. (Oliver Tappe) Review Essay Two books on East Timor. Carolyn Hughes, Dependent communities; Aid and politics in Cambodia and East Timor. David Mearns (ed.), Democratic governance in Timor-Leste; Reconciling the local and the national. (Helene van Klinken) Review Essay Two books on Islamic terror Zachary Abuza, Political Islam and violence in Indonesia. Noorhaidi Hasan, Laskar jihad; Islam, militancy, and the quest for identity in post-New Order Indonesia. (Gerry van Klinken) Korte Signaleringen Janneke van Dijk, Jaap de Jonge en Nico de Klerk, J.C. Lamster, een vroege filmer in Nederlands-Indië. Griselda Molemans en Armando Ello, Zwarte huid, oranje hart; Afrikaanse KNIL-nazaten in de diaspora. Reisgids Indonesië; Oorlogsplekken 1942-1949. Hilde Janssen, Schaamte en onschuld; Het verdrongen oorlogsverleden van troostmeisjes in Indonesië. Jan Banning, Comfort women/Troostmeisjes. (Harry Poeze)

Over the last decade, the Arab Spring phenomenon in the Middle East and North Africa has brought significant transformation towards Tunisia’s political landscape. During the 14 days of street protest, Tunisian women have played critical roles in assisting their male counterparts in securing the ultime goal of the revolution – regime change. This article argues that after the 2011 revolution, the new Tunisian government has gradually adopted the principal idea of state feminism, which emphasizes on the role of ruling government via affirmative action in supporting the agenda of women’s rights. In so doing, this article examines the connection between state feminism and the plight of women’s struggles in Tunisia after the 2011 revolution and, looks into the impact of top down polices, and government approaches towards improving the status of women. This article concludes that women in the post revolutionary era have experienced a new trajectory in political and social freedom,the country has recorded a spike increase in the number of active female lawmakers, government executives, politicians, electoral candidates and the emergence of human right groups, gender activists and feminist movements. All these ‘women’s actors’ have directly involved in the process of drafting the new Tunisian constitution, which resulted in the acknowlegdement of women’s rights protection via article 46 in 2014 and the Nobel Peace Price Award in 2015.

The only traces of Etta Moten Barnett’s 1950s–’60s radio program, I Remember When, exist on well-worn cassette tapes (recently digitized) at the Schomburg Center for Research in Black Culture in Harlem. On these tapes are the only traces of not only Moten Barnett’s own career but also the immense network of activists, educators, and Pan-Africanists with whom she interacted. Many of them are now long forgotten or exist in the footnotes of better-known figures (often their husbands). What could be considered a project of recovery is also a project of tracing the use Black women made of radio broadcasting. I Remember When also provides an intriguing counternarrative to existing scholarship on Cold War radio history, which instead of looking West to East and from the perspective of government propaganda, now traces the networks across the diaspora in the struggle for independence and self-determination. Bringing the focus to Etta Moten Barnett and other Black women in radio raises questions about their stake in citizenship and political solidarity in this period. Through transcribing original broadcast recordings, and reading correspondence and newspaper articles, this paper documents the process of recovery, the cultural connections between women across the African diaspora, and their formation of a global Black community.

Prior the incursion of Boko Haram insurgency into the social nerve of Nigeria, low level of literacy in the North-East geo-political zone of the country was pervasive and has always been a subject of concern to all stakeholders and the federal government. The Almajiris, a vernacular euphemism for child-beggars, were offered mobile schools. Besides, free and compulsory education were introduced to take school age children off the streets. Of major interest to activists and researcher is the issue of young girl education. The female children had been irresponsibly left behind when western education was introduced to the North. The young girl was neglected for religious, socio-economic and cultural reasons. Expectations of wholistic benefits, therefore, became high when girls finally have opportunity to access Western education. However, Boko Haram insurgency became a clog in the wheel of progress when they began to kidnap girls and women, destroy school properties, and engaged in suicide bombings. The Chibok girls that were kidnapped from a government secondary school in Borno State was a classic case. This paper examines the implications of Boko Haram’s operations and activities on education in the North-East especially on the fragile status of girl child education. Consideration was also given to the far-reaching effect of the insurgency on the economic lives of the affected children. It concludes with a call for government to embark on strategies that will end insurgency and give the young girl a new lease in life.

In producing Chungmi Kim's eponymous Hanako (1999), the first Asian American play on the topic of “comfort women,” East West Players (EWP) provided a critical space for addressing this devastating chapter of Asian history and showing its relevance to communities in the United States. It also inadvertently launched the play on a ten-year transpacific journey as Comfort Women (2004) in New York and as Nabi (2005–9) throughout South Korea and Canada. Hanako dramatizes the intergenerational bonds between a Korean American university student, her grandmother, and Korean “comfort women” survivors who travel to New York to give their public testimonies. As the play develops, one learns that the grandmother has been repressing her own memories of enslavement as one of an estimated two hundred thousand young girls and women euphemistically called “comfort women” whom the Japanese Imperial military forced into sexually servicing its troops in the years leading up to and during World War II. Survivors kept their wartime experiences a secret from the public until the early 1990s, when a social movement for redress emerged in Asia. Over the past two and a half decades, activists and artists from around the world have joined survivors in their quest for justice. The recent agreement in 2015 between South Korea and Japan to “resolve” the “comfort women” issue sparked outcry from survivors and their supporters for its insincerity and inadequacy, further galvanizing the movement. Hanako and its afterlives as Comfort Women and Nabi are part of the transpacific culture of political activism and artistic expression that contends with the ongoing struggle over the history of “comfort women.”

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- Leonard Y. Andaya, J. Noorduyn, Bima en Sumbawa; Bijdragen tot de geschiedenis van de Sultanaten Bima en Sumbawa door A. Ligtvoet en G.P. Rouffaer, Dordrecht-Holland/Providence-U.S.A.: Foris publications, ix, 187 pp, maps, indexes. - Ben Arps, Philip Yampolsky, Lokananta; A discography of the national recording company of Indonesia 1957-1985, Madison, Wisconsin: Center for Southeast Asian studies, University of Wisconsin, Bibliographical series No. 10, 1987. XIII + 433 pp. - Victoria M. Clara van Groenendael, Ward Keeler, Javanese shadow plays, Javanese selves, New Jersey: Princeton University Press, 1987. xvii + 282 pages. Illustrations, photographs, bibliography, glossary, index. - Jean Gelman Taylor, Leonard Blussé, Strange company. Chinese settlers. Mestizo women and the Dutch in VOC Batavia. Verhandelingen van het Koninklijk Instituut voor Taal-, Land- en Volkenkunde, Dordrecht: Foris publications, 1986. - V.J.H. Houben, R.B. van de Weijer, Tussen traditie en wetenschap; Geschiedbeoefening in niet-westerse culturen, Nijmegen 1987., P.G.B. Thissen, R. Schönberger (eds.) - V.J.H. Houben, J. van Goor, Indië/Indonesië; Van kolonie tot natie, HES, Utrecht 1987. - F.G.P. Jaquet, Th. van den End, Gereformeerde zending op Sumba (1859-1972), een bronenpublicatie, bewerkt door Th. van den End. Alphen aan den Rijn: Aska, 1987. XIV, 743 pp. Uitgave van de Raad voor de Zending der Nederlands Hervormde Kerk, de Zending der Gereformeerde Kerken in Nederland en de Gereformeerde Zendingsbond in de Nederlandse Hervormde Kerk. - R.E. Jordaan, Roland Werner, Bomoh/Dukun; The practices and philosophies of the traditional Malay healer, Berne; Institute of Ethnology (Studia ethnologica Bernensia 3), 1986. 106 pp., illustrations and photographs. - P.E. de Josselin de Jong, Werner Kraus, Zwischen reform und rebellion: Über die Entwicklung des Islams in Minangkabau (Westsumatra) zwischen den beiden Reformsbewegungen der Padri (1837) und der Modernisten (1908), Beiträge zur Südasien-Forschung, Südasien-Institut, Universität Heidelberg, Band 8S, Wiesbaden: Franz Steiner Verlag, 1984. 236 pp. - Wolfgang Marschall, Pietro Scarduelli, L’isola degli antenati di pietra; Strutture sociali e simboliche dei Nias dell’Indonesia, Laterza, Roma-Bari, 1986. IX + 232 pp., 22 pl., 28 figs. - Nigel Phillips, C. Skinner, The battle for Junk Ceylon; The syair Sultan Maulana, Dordrecht: Foris, 1985. viii + 325 pp. - Harry A. Poeze, Mavis Rose, Indonesia free; A political biography of Mohammad Hatta. Ithaca, New York: Cornell Modern Indonesia Project, viii + 245 pp. - D.J. Prentice, Elisabeth Tooker, Naming systems: The 1980 proceedings of the American Ethnological society, The American Ethnological society, 1984. vii + 107 pp., Harold C. Conklin (eds.) - Patricia D. Rueb, Christine Dobbin, Islamic revivalism in a changing peasant economy; Central Sumatra, 1784-1847, London/Malmö; Scandinavian Institute of Asian studies, Monograph series no. 47, 1987, 300 pages, illustrated. - P.C. Verton, Ank Klomp, Politics on Bonaire; An anthropological study. Assen/Maastricht: Van Gorcum, 1986.' [Translated by Dirk H. van der Elst] - Leontine E. Visser, Elisabeth Traube, Cosmology and social life; Ritual exchange among the Mambai of East Timor, Chicago and London: The University of Chicago Press, 1986. xxiii + 298 pp., figs., photos, index.

The conference Islam in a Changing Europe was held amid growingconcern about the future of Islamic and other minority conununities inEurope. The organizers, Hafiz Mirza and David Weir (both at the ManagementCentre), Waqar Ahmad, Charles Husband, and Reg Walker (Departmentof Social and Economic Studies), regarded it as opportune forseveral reasons. First, the Gulf War, the tragic situation in Bosnia, and thecontinuing crises throughout Europe and the Middle East are grim buttimely reminders of the tensions pervading European and Islamic relations,despite strong political, social, and economic ties of mutual interest.The impact on European Muslims is of particular concern, as they are thelarge t minority in Europe and thus primary targets of the "new" racism.Second, this precarious position is further affected by the EuropeanCommunity's pursuit of a Single European Market and, ultimately, a unifiedpolity. The large Islamic communities in the EC, the geographicalproximity of the Islamic world, and the "demonization" of Islam in thewe tern media and political imagination rai e the specter of "Europeanness"being defined in contradistinction to "Islam." Rising fasci t attackson minority conununities throughout Europe are the harbinger of dimgersthat must be understood and addressed now. Moreover, these attacks aremerely the overt manifestations of underlying social change in Europe.The implications for Muslims in Europe need to be examined, as they arcpotentially more invidious because of their subtle and subliminal impact.Finally, and symbolically, in marked contrast to the triumphalist celebrationsin Spain and elsewhere, and a a warning that today's racist andfascist attacks on "non-Europeans" have deep-rooted historical antecedents,it is worth recalling that 1992 is also the five-hundredth anniversaryof the European invasion of the Americas, the expulsion of theJews from Spain, and the extinction of the Muslim kingdom of Granada.In sum, the organizers opined that the position of all minorities willbe thrown into harp relief by the European quest for identity as the majoritycultures of the EC (and further afield) seek to integrate. Islamwould perforce act as the "Other" for a variety of reasons. The focus onIslam was not intended to suggest that the consequences of ongoing276 The American Journal of Islamic Social Sciences 102events in Europe for other minorities were insignificant, but that Islambeingon the front line, as it were-could be treated as a metaphor for theserious predicament of all minorities in a changing Europe. With the helpof a contribution of six thousand pounds sterling from CCETSW (theCentral Council for Education and Training in Social Work), the conferencewas convened to examine the many issues relating to "Islam in aChanging Europe" at both the conceptual and the concrete levels.The conference took place over three days. The fitst day looked atbroader conceptual and historical issues, including "The Other as Islam,""Muslim Communities of Europe," and "citizenship and Participation."FolIowing an initial address by Cllr. Mohammed Ajeeb (Deputy Leaderof Bradford Council), the discussion was initiated by five papers: YasminAlibhai-Brown, "Islam in a Changing Europe: Issues of Citizenship andParticipation"; Noshaba Hussain, "Islam in a Changing Europe: An AlternativePerspective"; Hafiz Mim, "Some Reflections on the EuropeanPerimeter"; Haleh Afshar, "Identity Ascribed and Adopted: The Dilemmaof Muslim Women in Europe"; and Ali Hussein, "Culture, Faith and PoliticalIdeology: Islam in an International Context."The second day was devoted to more concrete case studies: education(initiated by Moeen Yaseen's "Islam and the Educational Systems ofEurope," with David Weir acting as discussant); immigration (PaulGordon, "Islam as Europe's Other: Restrictive Immigration Policy as aResponse to the Muslim Presence," with S. I. Ananthakrishan as the discussant);gender and social policy (Sitara Khan, "Muslim Women inBritain: The Lessons of Experience"); and social welfare (Charles Husbandand Waqar Ahmad, "Religious Identity, Welfare and Citizenship:The Case of Muslims in Britain," with David Divine as the discussant).The final day examined practical strategies relating to specific areasof concern via a series of workshops, including ones on education (convener:Abdul Mabud); women (Noshaba Hussain); and participation(Mansur Ansari). In addition, to round off the conference, two views onMuslim futures were presented by Ishtiaq Ahmad and Zaki Badawi.The whole conference was characterized by a forthright openness.Participants disagreed explicitly and at length, and the invited speakerspresented analyses that were partisan and undiluted by euphemism. Yetwhile the discussions were robust and many different positions werevigorously asserted and defended, there was an exceptional lack of personalanimosity. There was a very real sense of dialogue between the participantsand a commitment to sharing both analyses and experience.The mixture of Islamic scholars, community activists, academics, andother interested individuals, as well as of Muslims and non-Muslims,proved to be an important ingredient in facilitating the successful exchangeof perspectives. What may be incapable of retrieval in the bookthat is planned to follow up the conference will be the atmosphere of ...

This updated issue of the professional publication Bulletin of the Slovenian Armed Forces is dedicated to the question of the Slovenian commitment to finding peaceful solutions to conflicts. As Commander­in­Chief of the Defence Forces of the Republic of Slovenia, I find this subject not only necessary but also entirely essential. There are many reasons for this. The historical experience of the Slovenian people has not always been pleasant regarding the preservation of national identity, manifested in the language as well as in the cultural and national tradition. Despite different repressive and denationalising measures taken by many foreign authorities, our ancestors managed to preserve the Slovenian nation through much wisdom, deep national awareness and political skill. The importance of consistent compliance with the provisions of international law in crisis situations, including wars, was seen in 1991. Slovenia won the war, not only in a military sense but also by complying with all legal norms, thus soon becoming recognised as a young European democratic country founded on high legal and moral principles. The lessons of war in 1991 increased the resolve of the Slovenian people for clear rejection of the use of force in finding solutions to any kind of conflict. For this reason, my pleasure at being invited to write about the topic of Slovenian people in the service of peace is that much greater, in part also due to the fact that I spent a large part of my professional life, from 1992 to 2005, working in the United Nations, first as the ambassador of the Republic of Slovenia, later as UN Assistant Secretary­General. In both functions I dealt with peacekeeping operations to a considerable extent. United Nations peacekeeping operations were in full swing at that time and underwent great development on the one hand, but also bitter disappointment and moments of deep doubt on the other. However, they continued to develop to the current extent. The topic of the Bulletin is presented in truly deep, scientific, theoretical and practical ways, from strategic and tactical levels, considering the evolutionary and transformational characteristics of peacekeeping operations, and deriving from historical experience. The most respected authors in the Slovenian professional field have thrown light upon important conceptual changes in the area of peacekeeping operations, which result from numerous factors, in particular from important geopolitical changes in the world. We must not disregard the increasing cooperation of regional organisations in the implementation of peacekeeping operations, which has indirectly brought about a different understanding of the term “peacekeeping operation” and opened technical discussions in the area of terminology as well as in the technical fulfilment of obligations, all the way to the question of the necessity of a preliminary UN mandate. These deficiencies can also be seen in Slovenia and point to the need for conducting a deep technical discussion as soon as possible and unifying the understanding of both the structure of the Slovenian Armed Forces and the broader defence and security system. The introductory and in particular the more theoretical parts of the Bulletin may be taken as important contributions in this regard. Some of the articles offer interesting historical insight into the cooperation of Slovenian men, and later women, in various endeavours for peace launched by individual great powers and international organisations. Although it is difficult to understand the military intervention of European forces on the island Crete in 1897 as a peacekeeping operation, the objective which is still in the forefront of contemporary efforts of the international community in this area was achieved for at least some time. This intervention ensured an armistice between the parties involved in the conflict and enabled a diplomatic solution on the island without unnecessary victims. The confidence that the highest political and military authorities in the Austro­Hungarian Empire had in the 2nd Battalion of the 87th Infantry Regiment from Celje was truly special. This was particularly the case because the military unit was mainly composed of Slovenes, and at the time of deployment in Crete its commander was a Slovene as well. However, we need to emphasise that such thinking is unconventional. By studying the literature on peacekeeping operations we see that such operations were first mentioned around 1919 in connection with peace conferences after the end of World War I and with managing various border issues in Europe, different plebiscites and other situations which, besides political and other diplomatic action, also required the protection of security and were followed by military operations intended for this particular purpose. History tells us much about peacekeeping operations intended to maintain truces. In these operations, coalition forces were deployed to an area in which a truce already existed and had to be maintained among well organised and disciplined armed forces. Today, the status of armed forces is quite different. We have to look at all of history and every aspect of international military engagement which is not armed combat by nature but a military presence with various aspects of employment of military force and the constant readiness and capability of peace forces to defend themselves effectively and be prepared to use weapons to fulfil their mandate. If today we see peacekeeping operations as valid in this respect, it is clear that we have to be familiar with history and evaluate what we can learn from past experience and how we are obliged to consider the present. Of course, we must consider the present. If we look at the status of peacekeeping operations today, we see how important this military activity is for the modern world. I will only dwell upon the United Nations, which from the standpoint of peacekeeping operations is the most important organisation operating today. Approximately 140,000 soldiers participate in peacekeeping operations under the auspices of the United Nations. No other military force has that number of uniformed personnel operating abroad. These people are assigned to eighteen currently active peacekeeping operations, each costing the organisation about seven billion dollars. This is the largest component of the budget of the United Nations. However, this expenditure is small in comparison to other kinds of military deployment outside the UN, to operations which are not peacekeeping operations by nature. Peacekeeping operations have become very multidimensional. The latest such operations, established in Africa (Darfur, Chad, Central African Republic), have been among the most demanding from the very beginning. We can thus conclude that peacekeeping operations are becoming increasingly more complex, which also results in a higher degree of risk. In 2007, 67 members of UN peacekeeping operations lost their lives. Looking at individual operations we see that six people died in Lebanon alone that year. Ever since peacekeeping operations have been in existence, Lebanon has been one of the most dangerous areas. Today, however, it is somewhat outside the sphere of interest. This may be due to the fact that there is a peacekeeping operation active in the area, on account of which a state of relative peace can be better maintained. Peacekeeping operations are both dangerous and multidimensional, multidimensional because they are no longer focused merely on keeping belligerent parties apart. Modern peacekeeping operations include both standard and supplemental functions. Providing a secure environment for political normalisation, humanitarian activity and development is a comprehensive task, requiring the engagement of peacekeeping forces in operations that are far from being common types of military deployment. This raises different questions about the training and competence of peacekeeping forces. We also have to ask ourselves how we can fully consider the lessons learned from previous peacekeeping operations and organise a system of command, particularly in organisations such as the United Nations, while at the same time making sure that national contingents do not lose their identity. There are thus two lines of communication, one through channels established by international organisations and the other through those established by national systems of armed forces. How to balance this and achieve efficient functioning? How to ensure the operation of different cultures, members and levels of competence in a way that facilitates the success of peacekeeping operations? These are always important questions to consider. In recent years the question of interest has pointed to the complexity of modern peacekeeping operations. Peacekeeping operations are frequently required to facilitate an environment in which elections can be conducted and assist in the establishment of a legal order and institutions to maintain that order. Both tasks are extremely demanding. The establishment of a safe environment for conducting elections in a country with poor communications, with no tradition of elections and with violence linked to every political event, is an extremely difficult task. The establishment of a legal order in areas with no such tradition or adequate infrastructure is even harder. There is often a need to include the civilian police, whose tasks in peacekeeping operations are very demanding. Civilian police have a number of other particularities besides problems connected to the aforementioned multidimensionality. It is necessary to adapt to the local environment in order to facilitate effective police performance. How to facilitate this in an environment such as Haiti, for example, with its difficult past? How to facilitate this in linguistically demanding environments such as East Timor until recently and in other difficult circumstances? These are all extremely demanding tasks. However, there is not much understanding with regard to all the details and problems arising from their implementation. The international political community is often satisfied merely by defining the mandate of a peacekeeping operation. For many people this signifies the solution to the problem, considering that the mandate is defined and that the deployment of forces will occur. However, this is where real problem solving only begins. Only then does it become obvious what little meaning general resolutions of the United Nations Security Council and other acts by which mandates are defined have in the context of actual situations. Therefore, I am of the opinion that we have to take a detailed look at experience from the distant past as well as the present. When speaking of the civilian police we also have to consider the fully human aspects that characterise every peacekeeping operation. Once I spoke to a very experienced leader of civilian police operations about the need to send additional police officers to the mission in Kosovo in the spring, when winter is over and people become more active, which also results in a higher crime rate. He explained that this is not only a problem in the area of this mission but elsewhere in Europe. In spring, the crime rate rises everywhere. Therefore it is difficult to find police officers during this time who are willing to leave their homeland, where they are most needed, and go to a mission area which is just then facing increased needs. I mention this to broaden understanding of the fact that the deployment of peacekeeping forces, both military and civilian police, is not only a matter of mandates and military organisation, but sometimes of the purely elementary questions that accompany social development. I have already mentioned that memory of the past is a very important component of considering present peacekeeping operations. I would like to conclude with another thought. I believe the manner of organising the knowledge of peacekeeping operations is of great importance to all countries, especially those that are new to cooperating in peacekeeping operations. This knowledge cannot be gained from books written at universities, but only from monitoring and carefully analysing the previous experiences of others. It is very important that this knowledge be carefully organised, that these experiences be carefully gathered and analysed, and that a doctrine be developed gradually. This doctrine is required for a country like Slovenia, which is new at conducting peacekeeping operations, to be able to manage well and define its role in international peacekeeping operations properly. To achieve this objective, a new country must cooperate with those countries which have been conducting peacekeeping operations for a long time and therefore have a richer experience. The neighbouring Austria is known to have one of the longest and most interesting systems of experience in peacekeeping operations within the United Nations. Ever since it joined the UN, Austria has been active in numerous activities linked to peacekeeping operations. Its soldiers and the civilian police have participated in a number of peacekeeping operations. Experience gained in this way is of great value, and using this experience is necessary for successful planning of and operating in future peacekeeping operations. The future will be complicated! At one time, when the members of peacekeeping operations numbered approximately 80,000, the United Nations thought that nothing more could be done, and a larger number of members was unthinkable. Today the number of members is significantly larger, development will most likely still continue and conditions will become even more demanding. I do not wish to forecast events which have not yet taken place. However, I would like to strongly emphasise that the history of peacekeeping operations is not over yet and that the future will be full of risks and challenges. I would also again like to stress the importance of this issue of the Bulletin of the Slovenian Armed Forces, which is entering a new decade, and express my pleasure at being able to note down a few thoughts. Let me particularly emphasise that as Commander­in­Chief of the Slovenian Defence Forces I will continue to devote special attention to achievements in the area of cooperation in peacekeeping operations in the future, having a special interest in these experiences. I thank the authors of the articles of this important issue of the Bulletin for their scientific and professional contributions – and I greatly respect those who have already done important work in the name of the Republic of Slovenia with the Slovenian flag on their shoulders, with the hope that they continue to fulfil their obligations in accordance with the rules.

AbstractThis article considers how the discourse of women's human rights has been employed in the lead up to independence in East Timor. It describes the way that the United Nations' temporary administration responded to the situation of women after the Indonesian occupation and assesses the adequacy of its attempts to 'mainstream' gender in the independence process.

AbstractThe postconflict period in Timor-Leste is significant for the status of women and the struggle for gender equality. Women today face cultural and political pressure to conform to patriarchal demands, driven by a complex history of conflict, colonialism and changing customary practices. The contemporary East Timorese women's movement, largely a coalition of local NGOs, key women leaders and parliamentarians, has successfully driven the introduction of progressive egalitarian laws and policy, but it continues to grapple with the deeper changes in social practices required for systemic change. We argue that a better understanding of the history of the women's movement, forged within an anticolonial, nationalist independence movement, alongside a conceptualization of the intersecting structures that have shaped the capacity for East Timorese women to effect social change in their communities and nation, is necessary to fully realize the movement's goals and potential. Situating the movement within this framework provides new perspectives on these successes and on strategizing for the transformation of gender relations to make gender equality a lasting reality in everyday practice in contemporary Timor-Leste.

Abstract Jineolojî, the women's science proposed and developed by the Kurdish Women's Freedom Movement, has become central to its transnational organizing both in the Middle East and in Europe and the Americas. Activists in the Kurdish women's movement critique positivist and androcentric forms of knowledge production as well as liberal feminism. They instead propose Jineolojî, which aims to rediscover women's histories and restore women's central place in society. Based on a series of interviews with Kurdish women involved in developing Jineolojî, this article first situates Jineolojî within wider transnational and decolonial feminist approaches and then draws out the main ideas constituting Jineolojî. We focus on the ways Jineolojî speaks to ongoing discussions within transnational feminist knowledge production. Our article critically assesses the claim of Kurdish women activists who present Jineolojî as a new science and paradigm that goes beyond feminism while developing our argument that Jineolojî represents an important continuation of critical interventions made by marginalized women activists and academics transnationally. Moreover, our article illustrates that Jineolojî provides a helpful ideological underpinning for and epistemology of Kurdish women's political struggle for gender-based equality and justice.

IntroductionIn 2011, Four Corners — the flagship current affairs program of the Australian national broadcaster, ABC (Australian Broadcasting Corporation) — aired an investigative report on the conditions in Indonesian slaughterhouses. Central to the report was a focus on how Australian cows were being killed for human consumption. Moral outrage ensued. The Federal Government responded with a temporary ban on the live export of cattle to Indonesia. In 2010 the Australian Government initiated legal action in the International Court of Justice (ICJ) opposing Japanese whaling in the Southern Ocean, following a sustained period of public opposition. This article pays close attention to expressions of public opposition to the killing of what have come to be referred to as our cows and our whales, and the response of the Federal Government.Australia’s recent history with the live export of farmed animals and its transformation into an anti-whaling nation provides us with a foundation to analyse these contemporary disputes. In contrast to a focus on “Australian cow making” (Fozdar and Spittles 76) during the live export controversy, this article investigates the processes through which the bodies of cows and whales became sites for the mapping of Australian identity and nationhood – in other words, a relational construction of Australianness that we can identify as a form of animal nationalism (Dalziell and Wadiwel). What is at stake are claims about desired national self-image. In what we might consider as part of a history of cows and whales is in many ways a ‘history of people with animals in it” (Davis 551). In other words, these disputes are not really about cows and whales.The Live Export IndustryAustralia is the largest exporter of live farmed animals, primarily sheep and cows, to the Middle East and Southeast Asia respectively (Phillips and Santurtun 309). The live export industry is promoted and supported by the Federal Government, with an explicit emphasis on the conditions experienced by these farmed animals. According to the Government, “Australia leads the world in animal welfare practices … [and] does not tolerate cruelty towards animals and will not compromise on animal welfare standards” (Department of Agriculture and Water Resources). These are strong and specific claims about Australia’s moral compass. What is being asserted is the level of care and concern about how Australia’s farmed animals are raised, transported and killed.There is an implicit relationality here. To be a ‘world leader’ or to claim world’s best practice, there must be some form of moral or ethical measure to judge these practices against. We can locate these more clearly and directly in the follow-up sentence on the above claim: “Our ongoing involvement in the livestock export trade provides an opportunity to influence animal welfare conditions in importing countries” (Department of Agriculture and Water Resources). The enthusiasm expressed in this statement manifests in explicitly seeking to position Australia as an exporter of moral progress (see Caulfield 76). These are cultural claims about us.In its current form the Australian live export industry dates back to the early 1960s, with concerns about the material conditions of farmed animals in destination countries raised from the outset (Caulfield 72; Villanueva Pain 100). In the early 1980s animal activists formed the Australian Federation of Animal Societies to put forward a national unified voice. Protests and political lobbying lead to the formation of a Senate Select Committee on Animal Welfare, reflecting what Gonzalo Villanueva has referred to as a social and political landscape that “appeared increasingly favourable to discussing animal welfare” (Transnational 89-91).The Select Committee’s first report focussed on live export and explicitly mentioned the treatment of Australian farmed animals in the abattoirs of destination countries. The conditions in these facilities were described as being of a lower “standard of animal welfare” to those in Australia (Senate Select Committee on Animal Welfare xiii). These findings directly mirror the expressions of concern in the wake of the 2011 controversy.“A Bloody Business”On 30 May 2011, Four Corners aired a report entitled ‘A Bloody Business’ on the conditions in Indonesian slaughterhouses. The investigation followed-up on footage provided by Animals Australia and Royal Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals (RSPCA Australia). Members from these groups had travelled to Indonesia in order to document conditions in slaughterhouses and prepare briefing notes which were later shared with the ABC. Their aim was to increase public awareness of the conditions Australian farmed cattle faced in Indonesia, provide a broader indictment of the live export industry, and call for an end the practice. The nationwide broadcast which included graphic footage of our cows being killed, enabled broader Australia to participate from the comfort of their own homes (see Della Porta and Diani 177-8).The program generated significant media coverage and public moral outrage (Dalziell and Wadiwel 72). Dr Bidda Jones, Chief Scientist of RSPCA Australia, referred to “28,000 radio stories, 13,000 TV mentions and 3,000 press stories” making it one of the top five national issues in the media for five weeks. An online petition created by the activist organisation GetUp! collected more than 260,000 signatures over a period of three days and $300,000 was raised for campaign advertising (Jones 102). Together, these media reports and protest actions influenced the Federal Government to suspend live exports to Indonesia. A front-page story in The Age described the Federal Government as having “caved in to public and internal party pressure” (Willingham and Allard). In her first public statement about the controversy, Prime Minister Julia Gillard outlined the Government’s intent: “We will be working closely with Indonesia, and with the industry, to make sure we can bring about major change to the way cattle are handled in these slaughter houses” (Willingham and Allard).The Prime Minister’s statement directly echoed the claims made on the Department of Agriculture and Water Resources website introduced above. Implicit is these statements is a perceived ability to bring about “major change” and an assumption that we kill better. Both directly align with claims of leading the world in animal welfare practices and the findings of the 1985 Select Committee report. Further, the controversy itself was positioned as providing an “opportunity to influence animal welfare conditions in importing countries” (Department of Agriculture and Water Resources).Four Corners provided a nationwide platform to influence decision-makers (see Della Porta and Diani 168-9). White, Director of Strategy for Animals Australia, expressed this concisely:We should be killing the animals here under Australian conditions, under our control, and then they should only be shipped as meat products, not live animals. (Ferguson, Doyle, and Worthington)Jones provided more context, describing the suffering experienced by “Australian cattle” in Indonesia as “too much,” especially when “a clear, demonstrated and successful alternative to the live export of animals” was already available (“Broader”; Jones 188). Implicit in these calls for farmed cows to be killed in Australia was an inference to technical and moral progress, evoking Australia’s “national self-image” as “a modern, principled culture” (Dalziell and Wadiwel 84). The clean, efficient and modern processes undertaken in Australia were relationally positioned against the bloody practices conducted in the Indonesian facilities. In other words, we kill cows in a nicer, more humane and better way.Australia and WhalingAustralia has a long and dynamic history with whaling (Salter). A “fervently” pro-whaling nation, the “rapidly growing” local industry went through a modernisation process in the 1950s (Day 19; Kato 484). Operations became "clean and smooth,” and death became "instant, swift and painless”. As with the live export controversy, an inference of a nicer, more humane and better way of killing was central the Australian whaling industry (Kato 484-85). Enthusiastic support for an Australian whaling industry was superseded within three decades by what Charlotte Epstein describes as “a dramatic historical turnabout” (Power 150). In June 1977, the International Whaling Commission (IWC) came to Canberra, and protests were organised across Australia to coincide with the meeting.The IWJ meeting was seen as a political opportunity. An IWC meeting being held in the last English-as-first-language nation with a commercial whaling operation provided an ideal target for the growing anti-whaling movement (Epstein, Power 149). In parallel, the opportunity to make whaling an electoral issue was seen as a priority for locally based activists and organisations (Pash 31). The collective actions of those campaigning against the backdrop of the IWC meeting comprised an array of performances (Tarrow 29). Alongside lobbying delegates, protests were held outside the venue, including the first use of a full-sized replica inflatable sperm whale by anti-whaling activists. See Image 1. The symbol of the whale became a signifier synonymous for the environment movement for decades to follow (see Epstein, Power 110-11). The number of environmental organisations attending exceeded those of any prior IWC meeting, setting in place a practice that would continue for decades to follow (M’Gonigle 150; Pash 27-8).Image 1: Protest at Australia’s last whaling station August 28, 1977. Photo credit: Jonny Lewis Collection.Following the IWC meeting in Canberra, activists packed up their equipment and prepared for the long drive to Albany in Western Australia. Disruption was added to their repertoire (Tarrow 99). The target was the last commercial whaling operation in Australia. Two months later, on August 28, demonstrations were held at the gates of the Cheynes Beach Whaling Company. Two inflatable Zodiac boats were launched, with the aim of positioning themselves between the whales being hunted and the company’s harpoon vessels. Greenpeace was painted on the side — the first protest action in Australia under the organisation’s banner (Pash 93-94).In 1978, Prime Minister Fraser formally announced an Inquiry into the future of whaling in Australia, seeking to position Australia as being on the right side of history, “taking a decisive step forward in the human consciousness” (Epstein, World 313). Underpinning announcement was a (re)purposing of whales bodies as a site for the mapping of relational constructions of Australian identity and nationhood:Many thousands of Australians — and men, women and children throughout the world — have long felt deep concern about the activities of whalers… I abhor any such activity — particularly when it is directed against a species as special and intelligent as the whale.(Qtd. in Frost vii)The actions of those protesting against whaling and the language used by Fraser in announcing the Inquiry signalled Australia’s becoming as the first nation in which “ethical arguments about the intrinsic value of the whale” displaced “scientific considerations of levels of endangerment” (Epstein, Power 150). The idea of taking action for whales had become about more than just saving their lives, it was an ethical imperative for us.Standing Up for (Our) WhalesThe Inquiry into “whales and whaling” provided specific recommendations, which were adopted in full by Prime Minister Fraser:The Inquiry’s central conclusion is that Australian whaling should end, and that, internationally, Australia should pursue a policy of opposition whaling. (Frost 206)The inquiry found that the majority of Australians viewed whaling as “morally wrong” and as a nation we should stand up for whales internationally (Frost 183). There is a direct reference here to the moral values of a civilised community, what Arne Kalland describes as a claim to “social maturity” (130). By identifying itself as a nation on the right side of the issue, Australia was pursuing a position of moral leadership on the world stage. The Whale Protection Act (1980) replaced the Whaling Act (1960). Australia’s policy of opposition to whaling was “pursued both domestically and internationally though the IWC and other organizations” (Day 19).Public opposition to whaling increased with the commencement of Japan’s scientific research whaling program in the Southern Ocean, and the dramatic actions of Greenpeace and Sea Shepherd Conservation Society. The Daily Telegraph which ran a series of articles under the banner of “our whales” in June 2005 (see, for example, Hossack; Rehn). The conservative Federal Government embraced the idea, with the Department of the Environment and Heritage website including a “Save Our Whales” page. Six months out from the 2007 federal election, opposition leader Kevin Rudd stated “It's time that Australia got serious when it comes to the slaughter of our whales” (Walters). As a “naturally more compassionate, more properly developed” people, we [Australians] had a duty to protect them (Dalziell and Wadiwel 84).Alongside oft-repeated claims of Australia’s status as a “world leader” and the priority placed on the protection of whales nationally and internationally, saveourwhales.gov.au wristbands were available for order from the government website — at no charge. By wearing one of these wristbands, all Australians could “show [their] support for the protection of whales and dolphins” (Department of the Environment and Heritage). In other words, the wearer could join together with other Australians in making a clear moral and ethical statement about both how much whales mean to us and that we all should stand up for them. The wristbands provided a means to individually and collectively express this is what we do in unobtrusive everyday way.Dramatic actions in the Southern Ocean during the 2008/09 whaling season received a broader audience with the airing of the first season of the reality TV series Whale Wars, which became Animal Planets most viewed program (Robé 94). As with A Bloody Business, Whale Wars provided an opportunity for a manifestly larger number of people to eyewitness the plight of whales (see Epstein, Power 142). Alongside the dramatised representation of the risky and personally sacrificial actions taken by the crew, the attitudes expressed reflected those of Prime Minister Fraser in 1977: protecting special and intelligent whales was the right and civilised thing to do.These sentiments were framed by the footage of activists in the series. For example, in episode four of season two, Lockhart McClean, Captain of the MV Gojira referred to Japanese whalers and their vessels as “evil” and “barbaric”, and their practices outdated. The drama of the series revolved around Sea Shepherd patrolling the Southern Ocean, their attempts to intervene against the Japanese fleet and protect our whales. The clear undercurrent here is a claim of moral progress, situated alongside an enthusiasm to export it. Such sentiments were clearly echoed by Bob Brown, a respected former member of federal parliament and spokesperson for Sea Shepherd: “It’s just a gruesome, bloody, medieval, scene which has no place in this modern world” (Japanese Whaling).On 31 May 2010 the Federal Government initiated proceedings against Japan in the ICJ. Four years later, the Court found in their favour (Nagtzaam, Young and Sullivan).Conclusion, Claims of Moral LeadershipHow the 2011 live export controversy and opposition to Japanese whaling in the Southern Ocean have unfolded provide us with an opportunity to explore a number of common themes. As Dalziell and Wadiwell noted with regard to the 2011 live export controversy, our “national self-image” was central (84). Both disputes encompass claims about us about how we want to be perceived. Whereas our cows and whales appear as key players, both disputes are effectively a ‘history of people with animals in it” (Davis 551). In other words, these disputes were not really about the lives of our farmed cows or whales.The Federal Government sought to reposition the 2011 live export controversy as providing (another) opportunity "to influence animal welfare conditions in importing countries,” drawing from our own claimed worlds-best practices (Department of Agriculture and Water Resources). The “solution” put forward by White and Jones solution was for Australian farmed cows to be killed here. Underpinning both was an implicit claim that we kill cows in a nicer, more humane and better way: "Australians are naturally more compassionate, more properly developed; more human” (Dalziell and Wadiwel 84).Similarly, the Federal Government’s pursuit of a position of world-leadership in opposing whaling was rooted in claims of our moral progress as a nation. Having formally recognised the specialness of whales in the 1970s, it was our duty to pursue their protection internationally. We could individually and collectively express national identity on our wrists, through wearing a government-provided saveourwhales.gov.au wristband. Collectively, we would not stand by and let the "gruesome, bloody, medieval” practice of Japanese whaling continue in our waters (“Japanese”). Legal action undertaken in the ICJ was the penultimate pronouncement.In short, expressions of concerns for our cows whales positioned their bodies as sites for the mapping of relational constructions of our identity and nationhood.Author’s NoteFor valuable comments on earlier drafts, I thank Talei Vulatha, Ben Hightower, Scott East and two anonymous referees.References“Broader Ban the Next Step: Animal Group.” Sydney Morning Herald, 8 June 2011. 11 July 2018 <https://www.smh.com.au/environment/conservation/broader-ban-the-next-step-animal-group-20110608-1frsr.html>.Caulfield, Malcolm. Handbook of Australian Animal Cruelty Law. North Melbourne: Animals Australia, 2009.Dalziell, Jacqueline, and Dinesh Joseph Wadiwel. “Live Exports, Animal Advocacy, Race and ‘Animal Nationalism’.” Meat Culture. Ed. Annie Potts. Brill Academic Pub., 2016. 73-89.Day, David. The Whale War. Random House, Inc., 1987.Della Porta, Donatella, and Mario Diani. Social Movements: An Introduction. 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When I think of 'flesh' at this moment in human history, it's difficult not to think of the images on television and in print news reports in recent weeks. The first pictures of Kosovo's Albanian population being purged from their homes and amassed on the borders of neighbouring countries have left an impression. While cameras have stood witness from afar, we have been confronted by images of people being shot at point-blank range. Rows of corpses have lined up after ill-executed bombing raids by NATO forces and the more systematic slaughter of pro-independence activists by wayward Indonesian military groups in East Timor. Perhaps less expected, the deaths of school students in Columbine, Colorado, and the patrons of a gay club in the Soho district of London have added force to daily reminders on the insistence of the flesh to being. The significance of flesh to being extends beyond a simple matter of physical survival. It is often our reaction to the flesh of the other upon which we stake our very sense of self. Subjectivity becomes a constant process of negotiating the borders of the self, where an individual may either identify with the other they encounter, or attempt to deny or repress the other's existence. The recent events around the world are illustrative of the attempt by some individuals to repress others, who (inadvertently) threaten their stable sense of self, by way of the very final solution of death. It is often a response to an irrational fear of the inescapable physical flesh of others in various manifestations, such as ethnicity, gender and sexuality, that provokes such violent actions. In view of the on-going perpetration of violence towards others, it is little wonder that fantasies of transcending the flesh abound in many narratives. The successes of William Gibson's Neuromancer in 1986, and now the currently-released film The Matrix are contemporary testaments to the ongoing popularity of this fantasy of human self-creation without the limits imposed by 'meat'. While it might be argued that the leap into cyberspace is a denial of the flesh, it might also be argued that emergent technologies are almost certainly embraced because they seem to offer the possibility of allowing us to be more human than we are currently. New technologies seem to offer new ways of being in the world that will refine human communication and diffuse prejudices, where you will be loved for your personality and not hated for the colour of your skin. In this issue of M/C we consider a variety of ways of thinking about the flesh amidst the effects of media and new technologies. The feature article by Sean Aylward Smith asks "Where Does the Body End?", and thus also, where does technology begin? Smith deliberates on the difficulty of working with and about technology, where common-sense suggests that one should be able to define the distinction between technology and the body before embarking on the study of "any given socio-technical imbroglio". Working through the philosophical writings of Felix Guattari, Bruno Latour and then Guattari again, this time in conjunction with Gilles Deleuze, Smith progressively confuses the apparently neat distinction between technology and the body to argue for a subjectivity, or rather "a mode of individuation" as a haecceity, where humans are "collective assemblages" of agencies and affects. Peter Chen undertakes his deliberation on flesh in terms of its existence on the Internet in the form of pornography. In "Community Without Flesh: First Thoughts on the New Broadcasting Services Amendment (Online Services) Bill 1999", Chen argues that in adapting existing regulatory paradigms to the Internet, the Australian government has overlooked the informal communities of the virtual world. He suggests that in attempting to meet a perceived social need for regulation with political and administrative expedience, the government has ignored the potentially cohesive role they might play in the development of self-regulating communities who require little government intervention to produce socially beneficial outcomes. Chen predicts the formation of a new type of community, "whose desire for a feast of flesh" will ensure they are vigilant in their evasion of the cast of the regulators' net. Alan Macdougall's article might offer some practical solutions for those members of the virtual communities of cyberspace discussed by Chen. In "'And the Word Was Made Flesh, and Dwelt amongst Us'": Towards Pseudonymous Life on the Internet", Macdougall engages in a critical discussion of pseudonymity on the Internet, where users construct untraceable identities for use online. While Chen identified the concerns private citizens have when governments implement modes of surveillance for online activities, Macdougall acknowledges the threat individuals also experience from commercial interests gathering demographic information. He iterates the emergent technologies that are being developed to counter such intrusions, and considers the ways in which this "new flesh" will dwell amongst us. Axel Bruns continues the discussion of the Internet, and concurs with Macdougall's assessment that while online activity may present itself as ephemeral, in fact it has a presence that produces very real effects. In a defense of the significance of online publishing and communication, Bruns asks "How Solid Is the Flesh?"; he wonders whether the solidity and therefore the esteem that is generally attributed to publications in the 'real world' is a convincing argument when many books and print journals languish unread on obscure library shelves. On the contrary, Bruns argues, the 'flesh' is not left behind when the leap is taken into cyberspace. The ongoing explosion in available storage space on the Internet has the effect that cyberspace is becoming increasingly anephemeral. In "How Funny?: Spectacular Ani in Animated Television Cartoons" Simon-Astley Scholfield shifts our focus to a small screen of another kind in his consideration of the popular animated American 'kidult' cartoon series Ren and Stimpy and South Park. He notes that amid the uproar about the excessive depictions of violence and viscera in these comedy cartoons, an analysis of their representations of anal flesh has been conspicuously avoided. Scholfield's article addresses this oversight in a comparison between the two programmes. He concludes that while South Park explores subversive themes, "they have been twisted into misogynist and homophobic contexts". In contrast, the narrative outcomes in Ren and Stimpy posit a challenge to the "dominant homophobic culture". The 1997 spate of dead celebrities provides the flesh in Rebecca Farley's article, "The Word Made Flesh: Media Coverage of Dead Celebrities". Noticing the absence of pictures of dead celebrities' bodies in the coverage of their deaths, Farley wonders if when alive, celebrities fill a particular function, what do they do in death? Choosing to focus specifically on the deaths of Gianni Versace, Michael Hutchence and Mother Teresa, Farley argues that the sexually transgressive personae of Versace and Hutchence in life are replaced with "a pro-social narrative" that returns them to the bosom of family in death, while Mother Teresa, whose body "caused no trouble when it was alive, and conveniently wasn't mangled to death", is allowed to be present and photographed in death. Tseen Khoo's article, "Fetishising Flesh: Asian-Australian and Asian-Canadian Representation, Porno-Culinary Genres, and the Racially Marked Body" takes full advantage of the Internet to introduce the topic of flesh. Via a tour of various Websites, Khoo introduces the Web-surfer to the issues involved in representing the Asian body in diaspora, and the politically fraught issues for racial minority populations in majority 'white' nations. Khoo considers examples from Japanese-Canadian literature, metaphors of ingestion, and racial minority identity politics in the United States. The final submission to this issue is a work of creative writing by Hamish Kaden. "The Interminable Son" is the story of a man reconciling the death of his well-known feminist mother. The un-named character resurrects the memory of his mother through a Buddhist ceremony for the dead, and by conducting library research into her life as a prominent campaigner for women's right to have safe abortions. Kaden imparts the emotions of his character, while providing insight into an important health issue that effects many lives. This issue of M/C conceives of flesh in many forms and relationships. The cover image, designed by Damian Frost, should not go without mention as it provides a fresh vision from which to embark onto the smorgasbord of 'flesh'. Enjoy! Kirsty Leishman 'Flesh' Issue Editor Citation reference for this article MLA style: Kirsty Leishman. "Editorial: 'Flesh'." M/C: A Journal of Media and Culture 2.3 (1999). [your date of access] <http://www.uq.edu.au/mc/9905/edit.php>. Chicago style: Kirsty Leishman, "Editorial: 'Flesh'," M/C: A Journal of Media and Culture 2, no. 3 (1999), <http://www.uq.edu.au/mc/9905/edit.php> ([your date of access]). APA style: Kirsty Leishman. (1999) Editorial: 'flesh'. M/C: A Journal of Media and Culture 2(3). <http://www.uq.edu.au/mc/9905/edit.php> ([your date of access]).

This article proposes that the growing popularity of reality television in the southernmost state of India, Kerala – disseminated locally and throughout the Indian diaspora – is not the product of an innocuous nostalgia for a fast-disappearing regional identity but rather a spectacular example of an emergent ideology that displaces cultural memory, collective identity, and secular nationalism with new, globalised forms of public sentiment. Further, it is arguable that this g/local media culture also displaces hard-won secular feminist constructions of gender and the contemporary modern “Indian woman.” Shows like Idea Star Singer (hereafter ISS) (Malayalam [the language spoken in Kerala] television’s most popular reality television series), based closely on American Idol, is broadcast worldwide to dozens of nations including the US, the UK, China, Russia, Sri Lanka, and several nations in the Middle East and the discussion that follows attempts both to account for this g/local phenomenon and to problematise it. ISS concentrates on staging the diversity and talent of Malayalee youth and, in particular, their ability to sing ‘pitch-perfect’, by inviting them to perform the vast catalogue of traditional Malayalam songs. However, inasmuch as it is aimed at both a regional and diasporic audience, ISS also allows for a diversity of singing styles displayed through the inclusion of a variety of other songs: some sung in Tamil, some Hindi, and some even English. This leads us to ask a number of questions: in what ways are performers who subscribe to regional or global models of televisual style rewarded or punished? In what ways are performers who exemplify differences in terms of gender, sexuality, religion, class, or ability punished? Further, it is arguable that this show—packaged as the “must-see” spectacle for the Indian diaspora—re-imagines a traditional past and translates it (under the rubric of “reality” television) into a vulgar commodification of both “classical” and “folk” India: an India excised of radical reform, feminists, activists, and any voices of multiplicity clamouring for change. Indeed, it is my contention that, although such shows claim to promote women’s liberation by encouraging women to realise their talents and ambitions, the commodification of the “stars” as televisual celebrities points rather to an anti-feminist imperial agenda of control and domination. Normalising Art: Presenting the Juridical as Natural Following Foucault, we can, indeed, read ISS as an apparatus of “normalisation.” While ISS purports to be “about” music, celebration, and art—an encouragement of art for art’s sake—it nevertheless advocates the practice of teaching as critiqued by Foucault: “the acquisition and knowledge by the very practice of the pedagogical activity and a reciprocal, hierarchised observation” (176), so that self-surveillance is built into the process. What appears on the screen is, in effect, the presentation of a juridically governed body as natural: the capitalist production of art through intense practice, performance, and corrective measures that valorise discipline and, at the end, produce ‘good’ and ‘bad’ subjects. The Foucauldian isomorphism of punishment with obligation, exercise with repetition, and enactment of the law is magnified in the traditional practice of music, especially Carnatic, or the occasional Hindustani refrain that separates those who come out of years of training in the Gury–Shishya mode (teacher–student mode, primarily Hindu and privileged) from those who do not (Muslims, working-class, and perhaps disabled students). In the context of a reality television show sponsored by Idea Cellular Ltd (a phone company with global outposts), the systems of discipline are strictly in line with the capitalist economy. Since this show depends upon the vast back-catalogue of film songs sung by playback singers from the era of big studio film-making, it may be seen to advocate a mimetic rigidity that ossifies artistic production, rather than offering encouragement to a new generation of artists who might wish to take the songs and make them their own. ISS, indeed, compares and differentiates the participants’ talents through an “opaque” system of evaluations which the show presents as transparent, merit-based and “fair”: as Foucault observes, “the perpetual penalty that traverses all points and supervises every instant in the disciplinary institutions compares, differentiates, hierarchizes, homogenizes, excludes. In short, it normalizes” (183). On ISS, this evaluation process (a panel of judges who are renowned singers and composers, along with a rotating guest star, such as an actor) may be seen as a scopophilic institution where training and knowledge are brought together, transforming “the economy of visibility into the exercise of power” (187). The contestants, largely insignificant as individuals but seen together, at times, upon the stage, dancing and singing and performing practised routines, represent a socius constituting the body politic. The judges, enthroned on prominent and lush seats above the young contestants, the studio audience and, in effect, the show’s televised transnational audience, deliver judgements that “normalise” these artists into submissive subjectivity. In fact, despite the incoherence of the average judgement, audiences are so engrossed in the narrative of “marks” (a clear vestige of the education and civilising mission of the colonial subject under British rule) that, even in the glamorous setting of vibrating music, artificial lights, and corporate capital, Indians can still be found disciplining themselves according to the values of the West. Enacting Keraleeyatham for Malayalee Diaspora Ritty Lukose’s study on youth and gender in Kerala frames identity formations under colonialism, nationalism, and capitalism as she teases out ideas of resistance and agency by addressing the complex mediations of consumption or consumptive practices. Lukose reads “consumer culture as a complex site of female participation and constraint, enjoyment and objectification” (917), and finds the young, westernised female as a particular site of consumer agency. According to this theory, the performers on ISS and the show’s MC, Renjini Haridas, embody this body politic. The young performers all dress in the garb of “authentic identity”, sporting saris, pawaadu-blouse, mundum-neertha, salwaar-kameez, lehenga-choli, skirts, pants, and so on. This sartorial diversity is deeply gendered and discursively rich; the men have one of two options: kurta-mundu or some such variation and the pant–shirt combination. The women, especially Renjini (educated at St Theresa’s College in Kochi and former winner of Ms Kerala beauty contest) evoke the MTV DJs of the mid-1990s and affect a pidgin-Malayalam spliced with English: Renjini’s cool “touching” of the contestants and airy gestures remove her from the regional masses; and yet, for Onam (festival of Kerala), she dresses in the traditional cream and gold sari; for Id (high holy day for Muslims), she dresses in some glittery salwaar-kameez with a wrap on her head; and for Christmas, she wears a long dress. This is clearly meant to show her ability to embody different socio-religious spheres simultaneously. Yet, both she and all the young female contestants speak proudly about their authentic Kerala identity. Ritty Lukose spells this out as “Keraleeyatham.” In the vein of beauty pageants, and the first-world practice of indoctrinating all bodies into one model of beauty, the youngsters engage in exuberant performances yet, once their act is over, revert back to the coy, submissive docility that is the face of the student in the traditional educational apparatus. Both left-wing feminists and BJP activists write their ballads on the surface of women’s bodies; however, in enacting the chethu or, to be more accurate, “ash-push” (colloquialism akin to “hip”) lifestyle advocated by the show (interrupted at least half a dozen times by lengthy sequences of commercials for jewellery, clothing, toilet cleaners, nutritious chocolate bars, hair oil, and home products), the participants in this show become the unwitting sites of a large number of competing ideologies. Lukose observes the remarkable development from the peasant labor-centered Kerala of the 1970s to today’s simulacrum: “Keraleeyatham.” When discussing the beauty contests staged in Kerala in the 1990s, she discovers (through analysis of the dress and Sanskrit-centred questions) that: “Miss Kerala must be a naden pennu [a girl of the native/rural land] in her dress, comportment, and knowledge. Written onto the female bodies of a proliferation of Miss Keralas, the nadu, locality itself, becomes transportable and transposable” (929). Lukose observes that these women have room to enact their passions and artistry only within the metadiegetic space of the “song and dance” spectacle; once they leave it, they return to a modest, Kerala-gendered space in which the young female performers are quiet to the point of inarticulate, stuttering silence (930). However, while Lukose’s term, Keraleeyatham, is useful as a sociological compass, I contend that it has even more complex connotations. Its ethos of “Nair-ism” (Nayar was the dominant caste identity in Kerala), which could have been a site of resistance and identity formation, instead becomes a site of nationalist, regional linguistic supremacy arising out of Hindu imaginary. Second, this ideology could not have been developed in the era of pre-globalised state-run television but now, in the wake of globalisation and satellite television, we see this spectacle of “discipline and punish” enacted on the world stage. Thus, although I do see a possibility for a more positive Keraleeyatham that is organic, inclusive, and radical, for the moment we have a hegemonic, exclusive, and hierarchical statist approach to regional identity that needs to be re-evaluated. Articulating the Authentic via the Simulacrum Welcome to the Malayalee matrix. Jean Baudrillard’s simulacrum is our entry point into visualising the code of reality television. In a state noted for its distinctly left-leaning politics and Communist Party history which underwent radical reversal in the 1990s, the political front in Kerala is still dominated by the LDF (Left Democratic Front), and resistance to the state is an institutionalised and satirised daily event, as marked by the marchers who gather and stop traffic at Palayam in the capital city daily at noon. Issues of poverty and corporate disenfranchisement plague the farming and fishing communities while people suffer transportation tragedies, failures of road development and ferry upkeep on a daily basis. Writers and activists rail against imminent aerial bombing of Maoists insurgent groups, reading in such statist violence repression of the Adivasi (indigenous) peoples scattered across many states of eastern and southern India. Alongside energy and ration supply issues, politics light up the average Keralaite, and yet the most popular “reality” television show reflects none of it. Other than paying faux multicultural tribute to all the festivals that come and go (such as Id, Diwaali, Christmas, and Kerala Piravi [Kerala Day on 1 November]), mainly through Renjini’s dress and chatter, ISS does all it can to remove itself from the turmoil of the everyday. Much in the same way that Bollywood cinema has allowed the masses to escape the oppressions of “the everyday,” reality television promises speculative pleasure produced on the backs of young performers who do not even have to be paid for their labour. Unlike Malayalam cinema’s penchant for hard-hitting politics and narratives of unaccounted for, everyday lives in neo-realist style, today’s reality television—with its excessive sound and light effects, glittering stages and bejewelled participants, repeat zooms, frontal shots, and artificial enhancements—exploits the paradox of hyper-authenticity (Rose and Wood 295). In her useful account of America’s top reality show, American Idol, Katherine Meizel investigates the fascination with the show’s winners and the losers, and the drama of an American “ideal” of diligence and ambition that is seen to be at the heart of the show. She writes, “It is about selling the Dream—regardless of whether it results in success or failure—and about the enactment of ideology that hovers at the edges of any discourse about American morality. It is the potential of great ambition, rather than of great talent, that drives these hopefuls and inspires their fans” (486). In enacting the global via the site of the local (Malayalam and Tamil songs primarily), ISS assumes the mantle of Americanism through the plain-spoken, direct commentaries of the singers who, like their US counterparts, routinely tell us how all of it has changed their lives. In other words, this retrospective meta-narrative becomes more important than the show itself. True to Baudrillard’s theory, ISS blurs the line between actual need and the “need” fabricated by the media and multinational corporations like Idea Cellular and Confident Group (which builds luxury homes, primarily for the new bourgeoisie and nostalgic “returnees” from the diaspora). The “New Kerala” is marked, for the locals, by extravagant (mostly unoccupied) constructions of photogenic homes in garish colours, located in the middle of chaos: the traditional nattumparathu (countryside) wooden homes, and traffic congestion. The homes, promised at the end of these shows, have a “value” based on the hyper-real economy of the show rather than an actual utility value. Yet those who move from the “old” world to the “new” do not always fare well. In local papers, the young artists are often criticised for their new-found haughtiness and disinclination to visit ill relatives in hospital: a veritable sin in a culture that places the nadu and kin above all narratives of progress. In other words, nothing quite adds up: the language and ideologies of the show, espoused most succinctly by its inarticulate host, is a language that obscures its distance from reality. ISS maps onto its audience the emblematic difference between “citizen” and “population”. Through the chaotic, state-sanctioned paralegal devices that allow the slum-dwellers and other property-less people to dwell in the cities, the voices of the labourers (such as the unions) have been silenced. It is a nation ever more geographically divided between the middle-classes which retreat into their gated neighbourhoods, and the shanty-town denizens who are represented by the rising class of religio-fundamentalist leaders. While the poor vote in the Hindu hegemony, the middle classes text in their votes to reality shows like ISS. Partha Chatterjee speaks of the “new segregated and exclusive spaces for the managerial and technocratic elite” (143) which is obsessed by media images, international travel, suburbanisation, and high technology. I wish to add to this list the artificially created community of ISS performers and stars; these are, indeed, the virtual and global extension of Chatterjee’s exclusive, elite communities, decrying the new bourgeois order of Indian urbanity, repackaged as Malayalee, moneyed, and Nayar. Meanwhile, the Hindu Right flexes its muscle under the show’s glittery surface: neither menacing nor fundamentalist, it is now “hip” to be Hindu. Thus while, on the surface, ISS operates according to the cliché, musicinu mathamilla (“music has no religion”), I would contend that it perpetuates a colonising space of Hindu-nationalist hegemony which standardises music appreciation, flattens music performance into an “art” developed solely to serve commercial cinema, and produces a dialectic of Keraleeyatham that erases the multiplicities of its “real.” This ideology, meanwhile, colonises from within. The public performance plays out in the private sphere where the show is consumed; at the same time, the private is inserted into the public with SMS calls that ultimately help seal the juridicality of the show and give the impression of “democracy.” Like the many networks that bring the sentiments of melody and melancholy to our dinner table, I would like to offer you this alternative account of ISS as part of a bid for a more vociferous, and critical, engagement with reality television and its modes of production. Somehow we need to find a way to savour, once again, the non-mimetic aspects of art and to salvage our darkness from the glitter of the “normalising” popular media. References Baudrillard, Jean. The Mirror of Production. Trans. Mark Poster. New York: Telos, 1975. ———. Selected Writings. Ed. Mark Poster. California: Stanford UP, 1988. Chatterjee, Partha. The Politics of the Governed: Reflections on Popular Politics in Most of the World. Delhi: Permanent Black, 2004. Foucault, Michel. Discipline and Punish: The Birth of the Prison. Trans. Alan Sheridan. New York: Vintage, 1995. Lukose, Ritty. “Consuming Globalization: Youth and Gender in Kerala, India.” Journal of Social History 38.4 (Summer 2005): 915-35. Meizel, Katherine. “Making the Dream a Reality (Show): The Celebration of Failure in American Idol.” Popular Music and Society 32.4 (Oct. 2009): 475-88. Rose, Randall L., and Stacy L. Wood. “Paradox and the Consumption of Authenticity through Reality Television.” Journal of Consumer Research 32 (Sep. 2005): 284-96.

The 2000s have been a lively decade for cities. The Worldwatch Institute estimated that 2007 was the first year in human history that more people worldwide lived in cities than the countryside. Globalisation and new digital media technologies have generated the seemingly paradoxical outcome that spatial location came to be more rather than less important, as combinations of firms, industries, cultural activities and creative talents have increasingly clustered around a select node of what have been termed “creative cities,” that are in turn highly networked into global circuits of economic capital, political power and entertainment media. Intellectually, the period has seen what the UCLA geographer Ed Soja refers to as the spatial turn in social theory, where “whatever your interests may be, they can be significantly advanced by adopting a critical spatial perspective” (2). This is related to the dynamic properties of socially constructed space itself, or what Soja terms “the powerful forces that arise from socially produced spaces such as urban agglomerations and cohesive regional economies,” with the result that “what can be called the stimulus of socio-spatial agglomeration is today being assertively described as the primary cause of economic development, technological innovation, and cultural creativity” (14). The demand for social justice in cities has, in recent years, taken the form of “Right to the City” movements. The “Right to the City” movement draws upon the long tradition of radical urbanism in which the Paris Commune of 1871 features prominently, and which has both its Marxist and anarchist variants, as well as the geographer Henri Lefebvre’s (1991) arguments that capitalism was fundamentally driven by the production of space, and that the citizens of a city possessed fundamental rights by virtue of being in a city, meaning that political struggle in capitalist societies would take an increasingly urban form. Manifestations of contemporary “Right to the City” movements have been seen in the development of a World Charter for the Right to the City, Right to the City alliances among progressive urban planners as well as urban activists, forums that bring together artists, architects, activists and urban geographers, and a variety of essays on the subject by radical geographers including David Harvey, whose work I wish to focus upon here. In his 2008 essay "The Right to the City," Harvey presents a manifesto for 21st century radical politics that asserts that the struggle for collective control over cities marks the nodal point of anti-capitalist movements today. It draws together a range of strands of arguments recognizable to those familiar with Harvey’s work, including Marxist political economy, the critique of neoliberalism, the growth of social inequality in the U.S. in particular, and concerns about the rise of speculative finance capital and its broader socio-economic consequences. My interest in Harvey’s manifesto here arises not so much from his prognosis for urban radicalism, but from how he understands the suburban in relation to this urban class struggle. It is an important point to consider because, in many parts of the world, growing urbanisation is in fact growing suburbanisation. This is the case for U.S. cities (Cox), and it is also apparent in Australian cities, with the rise in particular of outer suburban Master Planned Communities as a feature of the “New Prosperity” Australia has been experiencing since the mid 1990s (Flew; Infrastructure Australia). What we find in Harvey’s essay is that the suburban is clearly sub-urban, or an inferior form of city living. Suburbs are variously identified by Harvey as being:Sites for the expenditure of surplus capital, as a safety valve for overheated finance capitalism (Harvey 27);Places where working class militancy is pacified through the promotion of mortgage debt, which turns suburbanites into political conservatives primarily concerned with maintaining their property values;Places where “the neoliberal ethic of intense possessive individualism, and its cognate of political withdrawal from collective forms of action” are actively promoted through the proliferation of shopping malls, multiplexes, franchise stores and fast-food outlets, leading to “pacification by cappuccino” (32);Places where women are actively oppressed, so that “leading feminists … [would] proclaim the suburb as the locus of all their primary discontents” (28);A source of anti-capitalist struggle, as “the soulless qualities of suburban living … played a critical role in the dramatic events of 1968 in the US [as] discontented white middle-class students went into a phase of revolt, sought alliances with marginalized groups claiming civil rights and rallied against American imperialism” (28).Given these negative associations, one could hardly imagine citizens demanding the right to the suburb, in the same way as Harvey projects the right to the city as a rallying cry for a more democratic social order. Instead, from an Australian perspective, one is reminded of the critiques of suburbia that have been a staple of radical theory from the turn of the 20th century to the present day (Collis et. al.). Demanding the “right to the suburb” would appear here as an inherently contradictory demand, that could only be desired by those who the Australian radical psychoanalytic theorist Douglas Kirsner described as living an alienated existence where:Watching television, cleaning the car, unnecessary housework and spectator sports are instances of general life-patterns in our society: by adopting these patterns the individual submits to a uniform life fashioned from outside, a pseudo-life in which the question of individual self-realisation does not even figure. People live conditioned, unconscious lives, reproducing the values of the system as a whole (Kirsner 23). The problem with this tradition of radical critique, which is perhaps reflective of the estrangement of a section of the Australian critical intelligentsia more generally, is that most Australians live in suburbs, and indeed seem (not surprisingly!) to like living in them. Indeed, each successive wave of migration to Australia has been marked by families seeking a home in the suburbs, regardless of the housing conditions of the place they came from: the demand among Singaporeans for large houses in Perth, or what has been termed “Singaperth,” is one of many manifestations of this desire (Lee). Australian suburban development has therefore been characterized by a recurring tension between the desire of large sections of the population to own their own home (the fabled quarter-acre block) in the suburbs, and the condemnation of suburban life from an assortment of intellectuals, political radicals and cultural critics. This was the point succinctly made by the economist and urban planner Hugh Stretton in his 1970 book Ideas for Australian Cities, where he observed that “Most Australians choose to live in suburbs, in reach of city centres and also of beaches or countryside. Many writers condemn this choice, and with especial anger or gloom they condemn the suburbs” (Stretton 7). Sue Turnbull has observed that “suburbia has come to constitute a cultural fault-line in Australia over the last 100 years” (19), while Ian Craven has described suburbia as “a term of contention and a focus for fundamentally conflicting beliefs” in the Australian national imaginary “whose connotations continue to oscillate between dream and suburban nightmare” (48). The tensions between celebration and critique of suburban life play themselves out routinely in the Australian media, from the sun-lit suburbanism of Australia’s longest running television serial dramas, Neighbours and Home and Away, to the pointed observational critiques found in Australian comedy from Barry Humphries to Kath and Kim, to the dark visions of films such as The Boys and Animal Kingdom (Craven; Turnbull). Much as we may feel that the diagnosis of suburban life as a kind of neurotic condition had gone the way of the concept album or the tie-dye shirt, newspaper feature writers such as Catherine Deveny, writing in The Age, have offered the following as a description of the Chadstone shopping centre in Melbourne’s eastern suburbChadstone is a metastasised tumour of offensive proportions that's easy to find. You simply follow the line of dead-eyed wage slaves attracted to this cynical, hermetically sealed weatherless biosphere by the promise a new phone will fix their punctured soul and homewares and jumbo caramel mugachinos will fill their gaping cavern of disappointment … No one looks happy. Everyone looks anaesthetised. A day spent at Chadstone made me understand why they call these shopping centres complexes. Complex as in a psychological problem that's difficult to analyse, understand or solve. (Deveny) Suburbanism has been actively promoted throughout Australia’s history since European settlement. Graeme Davison has observed that “Australia’s founders anticipated a sprawl of homes and gardens rather than a clumping of terraces and alleys,” and quotes Governor Arthur Phillip’s instructions to the first urban developers of the Sydney Cove colony in 1790 that streets shall be “laid out in such a manner as to afford free circulation of air, and where the houses are built … the land will be granted with a clause that will prevent more than one house being built on the allotment” (Davison 43). Louise Johnson (2006) argued that the main features of 20th century Australian suburbanisation were very much in place by the 1920s, particularly land-based capitalism and the bucolic ideal of home as a retreat from the dirt, dangers and density of the city. At the same time, anti-suburbanism has been a significant influence in Australian public thought. Alan Gilbert (1988) drew attention to the argument that Australia’s suburbs combined the worst elements of the city and country, with the absence of both the grounded community associated with small towns, and the mental stimuli and personal freedom associated with the city. Australian suburbs have been associated with spiritual emptiness, the promotion of an ersatz, one-dimensional consumer culture, the embourgeoisment of the working-class, and more generally criticised for being “too pleasant, too trivial, too domestic and far too insulated from … ‘real’ life” (Gilbert 41). There is also an extensive feminist literature critiquing suburbanization, seeing it as promoting the alienation of women and the unequal sexual division of labour (Game and Pringle). More recently, critiques of suburbanization have focused on the large outer-suburban homes developed on new housing estates—colloquially known as McMansions—that are seen as being environmentally unsustainable and emblematic of middle-class over-consumption. Clive Hamilton and Richard Denniss’s Affluenza (2005) is a locus classicus of this type of argument, and organizations such as the Australia Institute—which Hamilton and Denniss have both headed—have regularly published papers making such arguments. Can the Suburbs Make You Creative?In such a context, championing the Australian suburb can feel somewhat like being an advocate for Dan Brown novels, David Williamson plays, Will Ferrell comedies, or TV shows such as Two and a Half Men. While it may put you on the side of majority opinion, you can certainly hear the critical axe grinding and possibly aimed at your head, not least because of the association of such cultural forms with mass popular culture, or the pseudo-life of an alienated existence. The art of a program such as Kath and Kim is that, as Sue Turnbull so astutely notes, it walks both sides of the street, both laughing with and laughing at Australian suburban culture, with its celebrity gossip magazines, gourmet butcher shops, McManisons and sales at Officeworks. Gina Riley and Jane Turner’s inspirations for the show can be seen with the presence of such suburban icons as Shane Warne, Kylie Minogue and Barry Humphries as guests on the program. Others are less nuanced in their satire. The website Things Bogans Like relentlessly pillories those who live in McMansions, wear Ed Hardy t-shirts and watch early evening current affairs television, making much of the lack of self-awareness of those who would simultaneously acquire Buddhist statues for their homes and take budget holidays in Bali and Phuket while denouncing immigration and multiculturalism. It also jokes about the propensity of “bogans” to loudly proclaim that those who question their views on such matters are demonstrating “political correctness gone mad,” appealing to the intellectual and moral authority of writers such as the Melbourne Herald-Sun columnist Andrew Bolt. There is also the “company you keep” question. Critics of over-consuming middle-class suburbia such as Clive Hamilton are strongly associated with the Greens, whose political stocks have been soaring in Australia’s inner cities, where the majority of Australia’s cultural and intellectual critics live and work. By contrast, the Liberal party under John Howard and now Tony Abbott has taken strongly to what could be termed suburban realism over the 1990s and 2000s. Examples of suburban realism during the Howard years included the former Member for Lindsay Jackie Kelly proclaiming that the voters of her electorate were not concerned with funding for their local university (University of Western Sydney) as the electorate was “pram city” and “no one in my electorate goes to uni” (Gibson and Brennan-Horley), and the former Minister for Immigration and Citizenship, Garry Hardgrave, holding citizenship ceremonies at Bunnings hardware stores, so that allegiance to the Australian nation could co-exist with a sausage sizzle (Gleeson). Academically, a focus on the suburbs is at odds with Richard Florida’s highly influential creative class thesis, which stresses inner urban cultural amenity and “buzz” as the drivers of a creative economy. Unfortunately, it is also at odds with many of Florida’s critics, who champion inner city activism as the antidote to the ersatz culture of “hipsterisation” that they associate with Florida (Peck; Slater). A championing of suburban life and culture is associated with writers such as Joel Kotkin and the New Geography group, who also tend to be suspicious of claims made about the creative industries and the creative economy. It is worth noting, however, that there has been a rich vein of work on Australian suburbs among cultural geographers, that has got past urban/suburban binaries and considered the extent to which critiques of suburban Australia are filtered through pre-existing discursive categories rather than empirical research findings (Dowling and Mee; McGuirk and Dowling; Davies (this volume). I have been part of a team engaged in a three-year study of creative industries workers in outer suburban areas, known as the Creative Suburbia project.[i] The project sought to understand how those working in creative industries who lived and worked in the outer suburbs maintained networks, interacted with clients and their peers, and made a success of their creative occupations: it focused on six suburbs in the cities of Brisbane (Redcliffe, Springfield, Forest Lake) and Melbourne (Frankston, Dandenong, Caroline Springs). It was premised upon what has been an inescapable empirical fact: however much talk there is about the “return to the city,” the fastest rates of population growth are in the outer suburbs of Australia’s major cities (Infrastructure Australia), and this is as true for those working in creative industries occupations as it is for those in virtually all other industry and occupational sectors (Flew; Gibson and Brennan-Horley; Davies). While there is a much rehearsed imagined geography of the creative industries that points to creative talents clustering in dense, highly agglomerated inner city precincts, incubating their unique networks of trust and sociality through random encounters in the city, it is actually at odds with the reality of where people in these sectors choose to live and work, which is as often as not in the suburbs, where the citizenry are as likely to meet in their cars at traffic intersections than walking in city boulevards.There is of course a “yes, but” response that one could have to such empirical findings, which is to accept that the creative workforce is more suburbanised than is commonly acknowledged, but to attribute this to people being driven out of the inner city by high house prices and rents, which may or may not be by-products of a Richard Florida-style strategy to attract the creative class. In other words, people live in the outer suburbs because they are driven out of the inner city. From our interviews with 130 people across these six suburban locations, the unequivocal finding was that this was not the case. While a fair number of our respondents had indeed moved from the inner city, just as many would—if given the choice—move even further away from the city towards a more rural setting as they would move closer to it. While there are clearly differences between suburbs, with creative people in Redcliffe being generally happier than those in Springfield, for example, it was quite clear that for many of these people a suburban location helped them in their creative practice, in ways that included: the aesthetic qualities of the location; the availability of “headspace” arising from having more time to devote to creative work rather than other activities such as travelling and meeting people; less pressure to conform to a stereotyped image of how one should look and act; financial savings from having access to lower-cost locations; and time saved by less commuting between locations.These creative workers generally did not see having access to the “buzz” associated with the inner city as being essential for pursuing work in their creative field, and they were just as likely to establish hardware stores and shopping centres as networking hubs as they were cafes and bars. While being located in the suburbs was disadvantageous in terms of access to markets and clients, but this was often seen in terms of a trade-off for better quality of life. Indeed, contrary to the presumptions of those such as Clive Hamilton and Catherine Deveny, they could draw creative inspiration from creative locations themselves, without feeling subjected to “pacification by cappuccino.” The bigger problem was that so many of the professional associations they dealt with would hold events in the inner city in the late afternoon or early evening, presuming people living close by and/or not having domestic or family responsibilities at such times. The role played by suburban locales such as hardware stores as sites for professional networking and as elements of creative industries value chains has also been documented in studies undertaken of Darwin as a creative city in Australia’s tropical north (Brennan-Horley and Gibson; Brennan-Horley et al.). Such a revised sequence in the cultural geography of the creative industries has potentially great implications for how urban cultural policy is being approached. The assumption that the creative industries are best developed in cities by investing heavily in inner urban cultural amenity runs the risk of simply bypassing those areas where the bulk of the nation’s artists, musicians, filmmakers and other cultural workers actually are, which is in the suburbs. Moreover, by further concentrating resources among already culturally rich sections of the urban population, such policies run the risk of further accentuating spatial inequalities in the cultural realm, and achieving the opposite of what is sought by those seeking spatial justice or the right to the city. An interest in broadband infrastructure or suburban university campuses is certainly far more prosaic than a battle for control of the nation’s cultural institutions or guerilla actions to reclaim the city’s streets. Indeed, it may suggest aspirations no higher than those displayed by Kath and Kim or by the characters of Barry Humphries’ satirical comedy. But however modest or utilitarian a focus on developing cultural resources in Australian suburbs may seem, it is in fact the most effective way of enabling the forms of spatial justice in the cultural sphere that many progressive people seek. ReferencesBrennan-Horley, Chris, and Chris Gibson. “Where Is Creativity in the City? Integrating Qualitative and GIS Methods.” Environment and Planning A 41.11 (2009): 2595–614. Brennan-Horley, Chris, Susan Luckman, Chris Gibson, and J. Willoughby-Smith. “GIS, Ethnography and Cultural Research: Putting Maps Back into Ethnographic Mapping.” The Information Society: An International Journal 26.2 (2010): 92–103.Collis, Christy, Emma Felton, and Phil Graham. “Beyond the Inner City: Real and Imagined Places in Creative Place Policy and Practice.” The Information Society: An International Journal 26.2 (2010): 104–12.Cox, Wendell. “The Still Elusive ‘Return to the City’.” New Geography 28 February 2011. < http://www.newgeography.com/content/002070-the-still-elusive-return-city >.Craven, Ian. “Cinema, Postcolonialism and Australian Suburbia.” Australian Studies 1995: 45-69. Davies, Alan. “Are the Suburbs Dormitories?” The Melbourne Urbanist 21 Sep. 2010. < http://melbourneurbanist.wordpress.com/2010/09/21/are-the-suburbs-dormitories/ >.Davison, Graeme. "Australia: The First Suburban Nation?” Journal of Urban History 22.1 (1995): 40-75. Deveny, Catherine. “No One Out Alive.” The Age 29 Oct. 2009. < http://www.smh.com.au/opinion/society-and-culture/no-one-gets-out-alive-20091020-h6yh.html >.Dowling, Robyn, and K. Mee. “Tales of the City: Western Sydney at the End of the Millennium.” Sydney: The Emergence of World City. Ed. John Connell. Melbourne: Oxford UP, 2000. 244–72.Flew, Terry. “Economic Prosperity, Suburbanization and the Creative Workforce: Findings from Australian Suburban Communities.” Spaces and Flows: Journal of Urban and Extra-Urban Studies 1.1 (2011, forthcoming).Game, Ann, and Rosemary Pringle. “Sexuality and the Suburban Dream.” Australian and New Zealand Journal of Sociology 15.2 (1979): 4–15.Gibson, Chris, and Chris Brennan-Horley. “Goodbye Pram City: Beyond Inner/Outer Zone Binaries in Creative City Research.” Urban Policy and Research 24.4 (2006): 455–71. Gilbert, A. “The Roots of Australian Anti-Suburbanism.” Australian Cultural History. Ed. S. I. Goldberg and F. B. Smith. Cambridge: Cambridge UP, 1988. 33–39. Gleeson, Brendan. Australian Heartlands: Making Space for Hope in the Suburbs. Sydney: Allen & Unwin, 2006.Hamilton, Clive, and Richard Denniss. Affluenza. Sydney: Allen & Unwin, 2005.Harvey, David. “The Right to the City.” New Left Review 53 (2008): 23–40.Infrastructure Australia. State of Australian Cities 2010. Infrastructure Australia Major Cities Unit. Canberra: Commonwealth of Australia. 2010.Johnson, Lesley. “Style Wars: Revolution in the Suburbs?” Australian Geographer 37.2 (2006): 259–77. Kirsner, Douglas. “Domination and the Flight from Being.” Australian Capitalism: Towards a Socialist Critique. Eds. J. Playford and D. Kirsner. Melbourne: Penguin, 1972. 9–31.Kotkin, Joel. “Urban Legends.” Foreign Policy 181 (2010): 128–34. Lee, Terence. “The Singaporean Creative Suburb of Perth: Rethinking Cultural Globalization.” Globalization and Its Counter-Forces in South-East Asia. Ed. T. Chong. Singapore: Institute for Southeast Asian Studies, 2008. 359–78. Lefebvre, Henri. The Production of Space. Trans. Donald Nicholson-Smith. Oxford: Blackwell, 1991.McGuirk, P., and Robyn Dowling. “Understanding Master-Planned Estates in Australian Cities: A Framework for Research.” Urban Policy and Research 25.1 (2007): 21–38Peck, Jamie. “Struggling with the Creative Class.” International Journal of Urban and Regional Research 29.4 (2005): 740–70. Slater, Tom. “The Eviction of Critical Perspectives from Gentrification Research.” International Journal of Urban and Regional Research 30.4 (2006): 737–57. Soja, Ed. Seeking Spatial Justice. Minneapolis: U of Minnesota P, 2010.Stretton, Hugh. Ideas for Australian Cities. Melbourne: Penguin, 1970.Turnbull, Sue. “Mapping the Vast Suburban Tundra: Australian Comedy from Dame Edna to Kath and Kim.” International Journal of Cultural Studies 11.1 (2008): 15–32.