According to the social movement literature, democracies provide a number of protections, rights, and institutions that incentivize certain forms of contentious action and organization over others. So why might we see similar forms of protest across vastly different regime types? I argue that across the three cases in this study, one can note, over time, a composite of newer forms of participation “layered” on top of established, popular practices. One might expect a phasing out of the unruly forms of protest developed under autocratic regimes. Instead, communities that have experienced increasing democratic institutions have combined established repertoires with newer, contrasting ones. To capture this ad hoc, layering of different practices I use the metaphor of autoconstruction, that describes the do-it-yourself (DIY) process that urban residents across the global south rely on to build homes in informal settlements such as shacks, favelas, and barriadas. Similarly, I use autoconstruction to describe how communities have built on popular contentious practices of citizenship over time.

In Behemoth, Hobbes says "that what one calls vice, another calls virtue, as their present affections lead them" and that "[t]he virtue of a subject is comprehended wholly in obedience to the laws of the commonwealth." This claim is debunking – nothing more to virtue than obedience to law – and commendatory – understanding that’s one duty is to obey the law is the mark of virtue. Any tension can be resolved by supposing that while virtue does not exist outside of civil society, once civil society is established, virtue becomes possible though the ability of subjects to conform their actions to their sovereign’s law. Yet Hobbes also says that the "Science" of the laws of nature is the "true and onely Moral Philosophy", and thus also the "science of Vertue and Vice," that the laws of nature oblige in the state of nature (in conscience), and suggests in various ways both that it is possible (though dangerous) to be a virtuous or "Just man" in the state of nature and that such men may have an important role to play in establishing civil society. This chapter explores the puzzles raised by Hobbes’s discussion in Leviathan of virtue and duty to obey the law.

This chapter examines the collective interpretative practices of non-judicial actors, with a special focus on the One Ocean Hub. The One Ocean Hub is an inter- and transdisciplinary ocean research network that engages academic and non-academic stakeholders, including local decision-makers and representatives from international organizations, civil society, and affected communities, to co-develop mutually supportive interpretations of international environmental law, the law of the sea, and international human rights law. The interpretative practice of the One Ocean Hub related to the protection of human rights that are dependent on a healthy ocean is an example of collective interpretation whose authority comes from the expertise of the involved practitioners. The chapter examines how this expertise-based interpretation can be institutionalized under the law of treaties, with a view to embedding it in the work of relevant treaty bodies.

Japanese society is subject to centrifugal forces that tend to promote diversification in structural arrangements, lifestyles, and value orientations, while a range of centripetal forces drives it towards homogeneity and uniformity. This chapter endeavors to recapitulate these two forces in the context of Japan’s civil society, focusing on five key areas.

The first four investigate various aspects of centrifugal forces: the fragmentation of social relations, a significant development affecting the foundations of Japanese society over the past few decades; the rise of social movements in the 2010s despite this trend; the quiet growth of volunteer activities and the role of NPOs and NGOs as a backdrop for dissenting protests, and the shifting landscape of interest groups overall; and the viability of an emic notion similar to citizenship in analyzing the Japanese context.

The final section aims to establish an analytical framework for various forms of centripetal control and to synthesize their diverse characteristics as ‘friendly authoritarianism’ permeating Japanese society.

Chapter 6 focuses on Iran’s thirteen minority ethno-nations. These nations differ from the ethno-nation formed by Iran’s ruling Persians (who are discussed in other chapters). These minority ethno-nations differ from one another but also share some features. Their affiliates, social organizations, leaderships, and cultural systems vary but they all provide structure and meaning for adherents in ways that are often lacking for other citizens. Many affiliates of minority ethno-nations do not identify as Iranians. Undergoing discrimination and persecution in Iran, they respond by enhancing their distinctive groupings and furthering their internal cohesion. Iran’s minority peoples formed political coalitions outside Iran, in their pursuit to oust the theocracy, form a secular democracy, and improve conditions for Iranians of all ethnicities. Most affiliates of these movements support a pluralist federal Iran in which communities could achieve regional autonomy. Some affiliates consider separating from Iran and joining their compatriots in adjoining countries. A few of them advocate for independence as new nation-states, just as the fifteen republics of the former Soviet Union had done in 1991.

Chapter 2 emphasizes theoretical and methodological issues as they relate to understanding the five social categories. It examines concepts concerning nation-states, minority peoples, and national identity, which were applied in Iran to a secular westernizing state (in the twentieth century to 1979) and then to a fundamentalist Islamic theocracy. Under both periods, state rulers tried to control citizens and enforce policies of Persianization and Shi‘i Islamization. They failed nationwide in these political goals. Many Iranians were not ethnic Persians, not Shi‘i Muslims, and/or not amenable to assimilation and centralization. The chapter expands notions of sectarianism to include non-religious, subnational, politicized mass-groupings. It emphasizes people’s local-level communities as defined by location and livelihood; ethnolinguistic, religious, and tribal affiliation; and family, kinship, and gender. Persian Iranians list certain features as part of Iran’s national identity. Changing socioeconomic systems relate to hierarchies of wealth and power that benefit elites and disadvantage other citizens. The chapter discusses past and present local-level ethnographic studies. Engaged anthropologists include Iranians living in Iran, foreign-residing Iranians who traveled to Iran for research, and foreigners. The chapter discusses difficulties in doing research since the 1978-79 revolution, formation of a repressive theocracy, and Iraq-Iran war.

This chapter turns to two local protective mechanisms that primarily protect communities through civil society partnerships: threatening accountability and reintegrating victims. Churches brought needed local credibility to civil society partnerships, while civil society organizations contributed expertise and implementation experience. Threatening accountability encompasses activities that raise the likelihood that state agents will be held accountable for human rights abuses, such as training local church networks in human rights documentation. Efforts at reintegrating victims involve initiatives to socially, financially, and psychologically assist the families of those left behind by Drug War violence, who remained at great risk of subsequent violence. After using the parish-based survey to get an overall sense of the distribution of these activities, the authors empirically substantiate their operation through qualitative and quantitative evidence, including parish interviews, experimental evidence from a sample of plausible Philippine police personnel, and survey evidence of ordinary Filipinos.

These conclusions do not intend to summarize and even less to close the debate but instead to revert to the main issues addressed during the conference and maybe identify further issues for research. All contributors agree that not only a discussion on democracy and representation in and by international organisations is not purely speculative or theoretical, but that it seems necessary today. Despite this, contributors are not all in agreement on the need to use the concept of representation when discussing democratization of international organizations. Some question the link between democracy and representation, or whether using representative systems is even feasible in international organizations. This, in turn, leads to the various definitions of the concept of representation in political science and in law. A multiple international representation system (MIRS) as proposed by Besson and Marti is based on a strict concept of democratic representation and contrasts with other more flexible concepts such as ‘descriptive’ or ‘mimetic’ representation. In the end, the chapters address the merits of various systems, including in existing processes of global governance, for further democratizing international organisations.

In this chapter, we trace the history of how the EU emerged as a leader in using development aid and diplomacy to restrict migration, particularly from Africa. We also broadly describe the scope of migration management projects, including their intended impact on state capacity, economic development, a country’s domestic governance including civil society, and the return of a country’s nationals via forced and voluntary repatriation. We then turn to the EUTF, analyzing where and how the EU spent more than €5 billion across the African continent. We explore which actors benefited the most, what projects received the most funding, and where these interventions had the most impact. Overall, the EUTF prioritized state capacity, security, and economic development, while civil society and other non-state actors received significantly smaller allocations.

Chapter 10 discusses the significance of qualitative differences among cultural, social, and political contexts, some of which are likely to support, and others undermine, the chances of tempering power. In some cultures, the notion that ruling power should and can be routinely and institutionally tempered, and that law is up to the job, is well embedded. In others it is heresy. And in any societies there are competing cultures, acted upon by internal and external forces. Some forms of society – particularly civil societies – are congenial contexts for tempered power. Other forms – ‘sacks of potatoes’ and polarised communities – are not. Some polities, such as despotisms and dictatorships, spurn tempering. Some forms of democracy support it; in some there is tension between the two. In contemporary elected populisms, tempering of the power of the ruler is undermined systematically and often with the help of law. And everything connects. Law is one domain among others and not always the most important.