One hundred years after the deportations and mass murder of Armenians, Greeks, Assyrians, and other peoples in the final years of the Ottoman Empire, the history of the Armenian genocide is a victim of historical distortion, state-sponsored falsification, and deep divisions between Armenians and Turks. Working together for the first time, Turkish, Armenian, and other scholars present here a compelling reconstruction of what happened and why. This volume gathers the most up-to-date scholarship on Armenian genocide, looking at how the event has been written about in Western and Turkish historiographies; what was happening on the eve of the catastrophe; portraits of the perpetrators; detailed accounts of the massacres; how the event has been perceived in both local and international contexts, including World War I; and reflections on the broader implications of what happened then. The result is a comprehensive work that moves beyond nationalist master narratives and offers a more complete understanding of this tragic event.

Did Native Americans suffer genocide? This controversial question lies at the heart of Native America and the Question of Genocide. After reviewing the various meanings of the word “genocide,” author Alex Alvarez examines a range of well-known examples, such as the Sand Creek Massacre and the Long Walk of the Navajo, to determine where genocide occurred and where it did not. The book explores the destructive beliefs of the European settlers and then looks at topics including disease, war, and education through the lens of genocide. Native America and the Question of Genocide shows the diversity of Native American experiences postcontact and illustrates how tribes relied on ever-evolving and changing strategies of confrontation and accommodation, depending on their location, the time period, and individuals involved, and how these often resulted in very different experiences. Alvarez treats this difficult subject with sensitivity and uncovers the complex realities of this troubling period in American history.

Cover -- Title -- Copyright -- Contents -- List of Figures -- List of Contributors -- Introduction -- 1 The Nigeria-Biafra War: Postcolonial Conflict and the Question of Genocide -- SECTION I Genocide and the Biafran Bid for Self-Determination -- 2 Irreconcilable Narratives: Biafra, Nigeria and Arguments About Genocide, 1966-1970 -- 3 Marketing Genocide: Biafran Propaganda Strategies During the Nigerian Civil War, 1967-1970 -- 4 The Case Against Victor Banjo: Legal Process and the Governance of Biafra -- 5 The Biafran Secession and the Limits of Self-Determination -- SECTION II A Global Event -- 6 The UK and 'Genocide' in Biafra -- 7 France and the Nigerian Civil War, 1967-1970 -- 8 Israel, Nigeria and the Biafra Civil War, 1967-1970 -- 9 Strange Bedfellows: An Unlikely Alliance Between the Soviet Union and Nigeria During the Biafran War -- 10 West German Sympathy for Biafra, 1967-1970: Actors, Perceptions and Motives -- 11 Dealing With 'Genocide': The ICRC and the UN During the Nigeria-Biafra War, 1967-1970 -- 12 Humanitarian Encounters: Biafra, NGOs and Imaginings of the Third World in Britain and Ireland, 1967-1970 -- 13 'And Starvation Is the Grim Reaper': The American Committee to Keep Biafra Alive and the Genocide Question During the Nigerian Civil War, 1968-1970 -- 14 'Black America Cares': The Response of African-Americans to Civil War and 'Genocide' in Nigeria, 1967-1970 -- SECTION III Trauma and Memory -- 15 Women and the Nigeria-Biafra War -- 16 'Biafra of the Mind': MASSOB and the Mobilization of History -- 17 Memory as Social Burden: Collective Remembrance of the Biafran War and Imaginations of Socio-Political Marginalization in Contemporary Nigeria -- 18 The Asaba Massacre and the Nigerian Civil War: Reclaiming Hidden History -- 19 Imagined Nations and Imaginary Nigeria: Chinua Achebe's Quest for a Country -- Index

In Guatemala, it was called the "trial of the century": the 2013 prosecution of former de facto head of state (1982-1983) General José Efraín Ríos Montt and his intelligence chief, General José Mauricio Rodríguez Sánchez, on charges of genocide and crimes against humanity against the Maya-Ixil people. Ríos Montt's seventeen-month reign was one of the bloodiest periods in Guatemala's history, with "scorched earth" massacres, the destruction of hundreds of Maya communities, and militarized resettlement of Mayas into "model villages." Ríos Montt was convicted on all charges. Ten days later, a higher court vacated the verdict on dubious procedural grounds. Nevertheless, Guatemala's genocide trial, held in the domestic courts in the country where the crimes were committed, was precedent-setting. In this volume, Guatemalan and international scholars rigorously explore the complexities of the Guatemala experience and reflect upon the case's implications for understanding and prosecuting the category of genocide more broadly. Topics include: the nexus of racism and counterinsurgency in explaining Guatemala's genocide; the politics of Maya collective memory; the intersections of gender, sexuality, and ethnicity in genocide; the decades-long interconnections of national and transnational justice processes that brought the case to trial; and the limits and contributions of tribunal justice. This book was originally published as a special issue of the Journal of Genocide Research.

An analysis of the Turkish position regarding the Armenian claims of genocide during World War I and the continuing debate over this issue, the author offers an equal examination of each side's historical position. The book asks "what is genocide?" and illustrates that although this is a useful concept to describe such evil events as the Jewish Holocaust in World War II and Rwanda in the 1990s, the term has also been overused, misused, and therefore trivialized by many different groups seeking to demonize their antagonists and win sympathetic approbation for them. The author includes the Armenians in this category because, although as many as 600,000 of them died during World War I, it was neither a premeditated policy perpetrated by the Ottoman Turkish government nor an event unilaterally implemented without cause. Of course, in no way does this excuse the horrible excesses committed by the Turks.

One hundred years after the deportations and mass murder of Armenians, Greeks, Assyrians, and other peoples in the final years of the Ottoman Empire, the history of the Armenian genocide is a victim of historical distortion, state-sponsored falsification, and deep divisions between Armenians and Turks. Working together for the first time, Turkish, Armenian, and other scholars present here a compelling reconstruction of what happened and why. This volume gathers the most up-to-date scholarship on Armenian genocide, looking at how the event has been written about in Western and Turkish historiographies; what was happening on the eve of the catastrophe; portraits of the perpetrators; detailed accounts of the massacres; how the event has been perceived in both local and international contexts, including World War I; and reflections on the broader implications of what happened then. The result is a comprehensive work that moves beyond nationalist master narratives and offers a more complete understanding of this tragic event.

History has been central to a number of heated public debates in recent years. As Indigenous people have sought redress through the law, the role of history in the courts has become highly charged. Rights and Redemption is a detailed investigation of the uses of history and historians in high-profile cases involving Indigenous litigants, something not previously attempted. Ann Curthoys, Ann Genovese and Alexander Reilly look at cases before the Federal Court during the era of the Howard government, a time when Indigenous rights and the place of Aboriginal people in the national story were undermined in government laws and policies. They investigate how the courts have made use of historians as expert witnesses, and how the colonial past has been framed and understood by the courts. Rights and Redemption is an important record of a unique period of litigation in Indigenous affairs in Australia and a meditation on ways in which law and history might improve Indigenous rights. Book jacket.

“In the face of such ‘unspeakable truths,’ wouldn’t it be better to simply, quietly bow down?” (Kora Andrieu: Sorry for the Genocide, 2009). This book takes an interdisciplinary approach to the question of colonial crimes. In order to reconcile with massive systemic injustice, not only the historical foundations and legal questions are relevant, but also political viewpoints and peace ethics. The book demonstrates that, in the face of extreme violence, even genocide, a political apology can be an effective tool for conflict transformation, even when the injustice is far in the past.

In this intellectually and politically potent new book, Martin Shaw proposes a way through the confusion surrounding the idea of genocide. He considers the origins and development of the concept and its relationships to other forms of political violence. Offering a radical critique of the existing literature on genocide, Shaw argues that what distinguishes genocide from more legitimate warfare is that the enemies targeted are groups and individuals of a civilian character. He vividly illustrates his argument from a wide range of historical episodes, and shows how the question 'What is genocide?' matters politically whenever populations are threatened by violence. This compelling book will undoubtedly open up vigorous debate, appealing to students and scholars across the social sciences and in law. Shaw's arguments will be of lasting importance.

We regard genocidal violence as worse than other sorts of violence—perhaps the worst there is. But what does this say about what we value about the genos on which nations are said to be founded? This is an urgent question for democracies. We value the mode of being in time that anchors us in the past and in the future, that is, among those who have been and those who might yet be. If the genos is a group constituted by this generational time, the demos was invented as the anti-genos, with no criterion of inheritance and instead only occurring according to the interruption of revolutionary time. Insofar as the demos persists, we experience it as a sort of genos, for example, the democratic nation state. As a result, democracies are caught is a bind, disavowing genos-thinking while cherishing the temporal forms of genos-life; they abhor genocidal violence but perpetuate and disguise it. This is the genocide paradox. O’Byrne traces the problem through our commitment to existential categories from Aristotle to the life taxonomies of Linneaus and Darwin, through anthropologies of kinship that tether us to the social world, the shortfalls of ethical theory, into the history of democratic theory and the defensive tactics used by real existing democracies when it came to defining genocide for the U.N. Genocide Convention. She argues that, although models of democracy all make room for contestation, they fail to grasp its generational structure or acknowledge the generational content of our lives. They cultivate ignorance of the contingency and precarity of the relations that create and sustain us. The danger of doing so is immense. It leaves us unprepared for confronting democracy’s deficits and its struggle to entertain multiple temporalities. In addition, it leaves us unprepared for understanding the relation between demos and violence, and the ability of good enough citizens to tolerate the slow-burning destruction of marginalized peoples. What will it take to envision an anti-genocidal democracy?