Expanding Role Theory: US Responses to Hizb'allah and Iran

There are many sociopolitical theories to help explain why governments and actors do what they do. Securitization Theory is a process-oriented theory in international relations that focuses on how an actor defines another actor as an “existential threat,” and the resulting responses that can be taken in order to address that threat. While Securitization Theory is an acceptable method to analyze the relationships between actors in the international system, this thesis contends that the proper examination is multi-factorial, focusing on the addition of Role Theory to the analysis. Consideration of Role Theory, which is another international relations theory that explains how an actor’s strategies, relationships, and perceptions by others is based on pre-conceptualized definitions of that actor’s identity, is essential in order to fully explain why an actor might respond to another in a particular way. Certain roles an actor may enact produce a rival relationship with other actors in the system, and it is those rival roles that elicit securitized responses. The possibility of a securitized response lessens when a role or a relationship between roles becomes ambiguous. There are clear points of role rivalry and role ambiguity between Hizb’allah and Iran, which has directly impacted, and continues to impact, how the United States (US) responds to these actors. Because of role ambiguity, the US has still not conceptualized an effective way to deal with Hizb’allah and Iran holistically across all its various areas of operation and in its various enacted roles. It would be overly simplistic to see Hizb’allah and Iran solely through one lens depending on which hemisphere or continent one is observing. The reality is likely more nuanced. Both Role Theory and Securitization theory can help to understand and articulate those nuances. By examining two case studies of Hizb’allah and Iran’s enactment of various roles in both the Middle East and Latin America, the situations where roles cause a securitized response and where the response is less securitized due to role ambiguity will become clear. Using this augmented approach of combining both theories, along with supplementing the manner in which an actor, action, or role is analyzed, will produce better methods for policy-making that will be able to address the more ambiguous activities of Hizb’allah and Iran in these two regions.

Arabic theater in early khedivial culture, 1868-72: James Sanua revisited

This article revisits the official culture of the early khedivate through a microhistory of the first modern Egyptian theater in Arabic. Based on archival research, it aims at a recalibration of recent scholarship by showing khedivial culture as a complex framework of competing patriotisms. It analyzes the discourse about theater in the Arabic press, including the journalist Muhammad Unsi's call for performances in Arabic in 1870. It shows that the realization of this idea was the theater group led by James Sanua between 1871 and 1872, which also performed Ê¿Abd al-Fattah al-Misri's tragedy. But the troupe was not an expression of subversive nationalism, as has been claimed by scholars. My historical reconstruction and my analysis of the content of Sanua's comedies show loyalism toward the Khedive Ismail. Yet his form of contemporary satire was incompatible with elite cultural patriotism, which employed historicization as its dominant technique. This revision throws new light on a crucial moment of social change in the history of modern Egypt, when the ruler was expected to preside over the plural cultural bodies of the nation. © 2014 Cambridge University Press .

Reckoning With Apartheid: The Conundrum of Working Through the Past, An Introduction

From April 26-29, 1994, South Africa held its first universal, democratic elections. Witnessed by the world, South Africans of all races waited patiently in line to cast their ballots, signaling the official and symbolic birth of the “new” South Africa. The subsequent years, marked initially with euphoric hopes for racial healing enabled by institutional processes such as the Truth and Reconciliation Commission (TRC), have instead, most recently, inspired deep concern about epidemic levels of HIV/AIDS, violent crime, state corruption, and unbridled market reforms directed at everything from property to bodies to babies. Now, seemingly beleaguered state officials deploy the mantra “TINA” (There Is No Alternative [to neoliberal development]) to fend off criticism of growing income and wealth disparities. To coincide, more or less, with the anniversary of 1994—less to commemorate than to signal something about the trajectory of the past twenty years—we are proposing an interdisciplinary, special theme section of Comparative Studies in South Asia, Africa, and the Middle East (CSSAAME) entitled “The Haunted Present: Reckoning After Apartheid” (tentative title). The special theme section is framed around questions of reckoning in the double sense of both a moral and practical accounting for historical injury alongside the challenges and failures of the no-longer “new” South Africa. Against accounts depicting the liberation era as non-violent and peaceable, more nuanced analysis we argue suggests not only that South Africa’s “revolution” was marked by both collective and individual violence—on the part of the state and the liberation movements—but that reckoning with the present demands of scholars, the media, and cultural commentators that they begin to grapple more fully with the dimensions and different figurations of South Africa’s violent colonial history. Indeed, violence and reckoning appear as two central forces in contemporary South African political, economic, and social life. In response, we are driven to pose the following questions: In the post-apartheid period, what forms of (individual, structural) violence have come to bear on South African life? How does this violence reckon with apartheid and its legacies? Does it in fact reckon with the past? How can we or should we think about violence as a response to the (failed?) reckoning of state initiatives like the TRC? What has enabled or enables aesthetic forms—literature, photography, plastic arts, and other modes of expressive culture—to respond to the difficulties of South Africa’s ongoing transition? What, in fact, would a practice or ethic of reckoning defined in the following way look like? ˈrekəniNG/ noun: • the action or process of calculating or estimating something: last year was not, by any reckoning, a particularly good one; the system of time reckoning in Babylon • a person’s view, opinion, or judgment: by ancient reckoning, bacteria are plants • archaic, a bill or account, or its settlement • the avenging or punishing of past mistakes or misdeeds: the fear of being brought to reckoning there will be a terrible reckoning (Oxford English Dictionary) Looking back on the period, just before 1994, is sobering indeed. At the time, many saw in the energies and courage of those fighting for liberation the possibilities of a post-racial, post-conflict society. Yet as much as the new was ushered in, old apartheid forms lingered. Recalling Nadine Gordimer’s invocation of Gramsci’s “morbid symptoms” more and more it seems “the old is dying and the new cannot be born” (Gramsci cited in Gordimer 1982). And even as the new began to emerge other forces—both internal and external to South Africa—redefined the conditions for transformation. The so-called “new” South Africa, as Jennifer Wenzel has argued, was really more than anything “the changing face of old oppressions” (Wenzel 2009:159). The implications for our special theme section of CSSAAME are many. We begin by exploring the gender, race, and class dimensions of contemporary South African life by way of its literatures, histories, and politics, its reversion to custom, the claims of ancestors on the living, in brief, the various cultural expressive modes in which contemporary South Africa reckons with its past and in so doing accounts, day by day, for the ways in which the present can be lived, pragmatically. This moves us some distance from the exercise in “truth and reconciliation” of the earlier post-transition years to consider more fully the nature of post-conflict, the suturing of old enmities in the present, and the ways of resolving those lingering suspicions both ordinary and the stuff of the dark night of the soul (Nelson 2009:xv).

Reckoning With Apartheid: The Conundrum of Working Through the Past

From April 26-29, 1994, South Africa held its first universal, democratic elections. Witnessed by the world, South Africans of all races waited patiently in line to cast their ballots, signaling the official and symbolic birth of the “new” South Africa. The subsequent years, marked initially with euphoric hopes for racial healing enabled by institutional processes such as the Truth and Reconciliation Commission (TRC), have instead, most recently, inspired deep concern about epidemic levels of HIV/AIDS, violent crime, state corruption, and unbridled market reforms directed at everything from property to bodies to babies. Now, seemingly beleaguered state officials deploy the mantra “TINA” (There Is No Alternative [to neoliberal development]) to fend off criticism of growing income and wealth disparities. To coincide, more or less, with the anniversary of 1994—less to commemorate than to signal something about the trajectory of the past twenty years—we are proposing an interdisciplinary, special theme section of Comparative Studies in South Asia, Africa, and the Middle East (CSSAAME) entitled “The Haunted Present: Reckoning After Apartheid” (tentative title). The special theme section is framed around questions of reckoning in the double sense of both a moral and practical accounting for historical injury alongside the challenges and failures of the no-longer “new” South Africa. Against accounts depicting the liberation era as non-violent and peaceable, more nuanced analysis we argue suggests not only that South Africa’s “revolution” was marked by both collective and individual violence—on the part of the state and the liberation movements—but that reckoning with the present demands of scholars, the media, and cultural commentators that they begin to grapple more fully with the dimensions and different figurations of South Africa’s violent colonial history. Indeed, violence and reckoning appear as two central forces in contemporary South African political, economic, and social life. In response, we are driven to pose the following questions: In the post-apartheid period, what forms of (individual, structural) violence have come to bear on South African life? How does this violence reckon with apartheid and its legacies? Does it in fact reckon with the past? How can we or should we think about violence as a response to the (failed?) reckoning of state initiatives like the TRC? What has enabled or enables aesthetic forms—literature, photography, plastic arts, and other modes of expressive culture—to respond to the difficulties of South Africa’s ongoing transition? What, in fact, would a practice or ethic of reckoning defined in the following way look like? ˈrekəniNG/ noun: • the action or process of calculating or estimating something: last year was not, by any reckoning, a particularly good one; the system of time reckoning in Babylon • a person’s view, opinion, or judgment: by ancient reckoning, bacteria are plants • archaic, a bill or account, or its settlement • the avenging or punishing of past mistakes or misdeeds: the fear of being brought to reckoning there will be a terrible reckoning (Oxford English Dictionary) Looking back on the period, just before 1994, is sobering indeed. At the time, many saw in the energies and courage of those fighting for liberation the possibilities of a post-racial, post-conflict society. Yet as much as the new was ushered in, old apartheid forms lingered. Recalling Nadine Gordimer’s invocation of Gramsci’s “morbid symptoms” more and more it seems “the old is dying and the new cannot be born” (Gramsci cited in Gordimer 1982). And even as the new began to emerge other forces—both internal and external to South Africa—redefined the conditions for transformation. The so-called “new” South Africa, as Jennifer Wenzel has argued, was really more than anything “the changing face of old oppressions” (Wenzel 2009:159). The implications for our special theme section of CSSAAME are many. We begin by exploring the gender, race, and class dimensions of contemporary South African life by way of its literatures, histories, and politics, its reversion to custom, the claims of ancestors on the living, in brief, the various cultural expressive modes in which contemporary South Africa reckons with its past and in so doing accounts, day by day, for the ways in which the present can be lived, pragmatically. This moves us some distance from the exercise in “truth and reconciliation” of the earlier post-transition years to consider more fully the nature of post-conflict, the suturing of old enmities in the present, and the ways of resolving those lingering suspicions both ordinary and the stuff of the dark night of the soul (Nelson 2009:xv).

PENTAZOCINE VERSUS PENTAZOCINE WITH RECTAL DICLOFENAC FOR POSTOPERATIVE PAIN RELIEF AFTER CESAREAN SECTION- A DOUBLE BLIND RANDOMIZED PLACEBO CONTROLLED TRIAL IN A LOW RESOURCE AREA.

BACKGROUND: The unimodal approach of using pentazocine as post-cesarean section pain relief is inadequate, hence the need for a safer, easily available and more effective multimodal approach. AIM: To evaluate the effectiveness of rectal diclofenac combined with intramuscular pentazocine for postoperative pain following cesarean section. METHODS: In this double blind clinical trial, 130 pregnant women scheduled for cesarean section under spinal anesthesia were randomly assigned to two groups. Group A received 100mg diclofenac suppository and group B received placebo suppository immediately following surgery, 12 and 24h later. Both groups also received intramuscular pentazocine 30mg immediately following surgery and 6 hourly postoperatively in the first 24 h. Postoperative pain was assessed by visual analogue scale at end of surgery and 2, 12 and 24 h after surgery. Patient satisfaction scores were also assessed. RESULTS: One hundred and sixteen patients completed the study. Combining diclofenac and pentazocine had statistically significant reduction in pain intensity at 2, 12, and 24 hours postoperatively compared to pentazocine alone (p <0.05). No significant side effects were noted in both groups. The combined group also had significantly better patient satisfaction scores. CONCLUSION: The addition of diclofenac suppository to intramuscular pentazocine provides better pain relief after cesarean section and increased patient satisfaction.