Power is fundamental to co–management in numerous ways. In this chapter, key theoretical approaches to the concept of power are reviewed, drawing on conceptions of ‘power over’, ‘power to’ and similar. The chapter then investigates the concept of power in three ways: what power sharing means and how it is experienced, what dominant power relations are observed in co-management and what empowerment means in the context of co–management. In relation to power sharing, it is found that power is often unequally shared, with government having greater power than resource users, evidenced in control of resources and decision-making. Dominant power relations include elite capture, patron–client relations and gender relations. Constraints on the potential for co–management to be empowering for resource users are found to be related to power dynamics and unequal power sharing, encouraging a more technical approach to empowerment being taken rather than a more critical, political approach.

Chapter 5 examines the renegotiation of kinship and gender relations within Tunisia’s post-revolutionary public sphere. Activists across gender and ideological lines confront the persistence of patriarchal discourses that shaped both the 2011 revolution and the subsequent democratic transition up to 2016. Legitimising hierarchy in both private and public spheres. In response, activists work to dismantle traditional filiation and its gendered consequences, seeking new forms of alliance and intimacy. This process challenges dominant conceptions of the Tunisian public and reflects broader efforts to rethink social relations in democratic spaces. Drawing on the anthropology of revolution and democracy which considers both experiences as profoundly social’, the chapter engages with North African scholarship on the intersection of kinship and politics, applying it’s insights to the evolving dynamics of Tunisia’s (post)revolutionary democracy.

Chapter 5 explores the construction of women, especially young women, as dubious and untrustworthy figures in male discourse, a source of cynicism and doubt about kinship’s future. It captures men’s fears about ‘greedy’ women and ‘gold diggers’ who only want to marry men in order to expropriate their wealth. At the same time, the chapter explores counter-discourses of young women getting by in a world of male failure, their relations with their male kin, and their ambitions to become successful ‘hustlers’ in their own right. Speaking to regional literature on love, marriage, and youth relationships, it explores the gendered tensions created by a world of masculine destitution, illuminating male fears about the capacity of women to exploit their ‘in-betweenness’ to acquire patrilineal land.

Chapter 5 looks at movement mobilization within formal institutions and specifically efforts to conquer and transform key sites of socialization in pursuit of alternative sociopolitical visions. This chapter examines the aboveground sites through a case study of a public Imam-Hatip school and traces the Islamists’ persistent efforts to change the nature and purpose of schools to accomplish a variety of goals. Imam-Hatips have been central to the Islamist resistance by serving as recruitment grounds for political parties and securing voter constituencies but also by creating a certain type of individual through dispositional training or, more precisely, countertraining. This chapter demonstrates that such countertraining undermines established (secular) dispositions, rebuilds personal habits in line with alternative (Islamic) standards, and situates this self against competing political projects. Overall, it argues, the Imam-Hatips are critical institutions for observing both the macro contentions over the role of Islam in education and the micro processes of creating moral selves whose personal choices and public conduct are constituted by an all-encompassing framework that is, in the view of revivalists, informed by God’s eternal intent.

This chapter explores a riot that erupted in 1782 against a permanent garrison of Spanish troops from the Savoy regiment, marking the Chuquisaca’s first popular revolt since its founding. Although violence was primarily executed by the lower classes, particularly militia members, it stemmed from tensions affecting the entire population and therefore garnered strong support from the patriciate through the cabildo. Sparked by the death of a patrician in a brawl with a soldier, the underlying cause of the unrest was the troops’ sexual misconduct and other acts of violence in the urban space. The advances made on the wives, sisters, and daughters of patricians and plebeians alike raised the question of whether European soldiers of low social status were deemed superior to noble creoles, and it placed the vindication of the masculine reputation of patricians and plebeians on the same footing. The assaults on the local population’s claims to honor thus undermined the self-representation of urban society as courtly society divided into Hispanic and non-Hispanic sectors. Without losing their distinctive group identities, the residents began to conceive of themselves as members of the same polity defined in opposition to metropolitan policies and their agents. They saw themselves as part of a full-fledged colonial society.

Chapter 3 describes Grouchy’s thought during the first four years of the French Revolution. It explores both the philosophical foundations for and the results of the strong political and intellectual partnership that developed with her husband, Condorcet, from around 1790. Grouchy took advantage of the symbolic political power with which marriage was imbued in revolutionary discourse to use her own union as a microcosm of the polity she and Condorcet were advocating. They demonstrated that sentiment not only allowed individuals to reason rights, but created bonds that enabled independent people to work together for the advancement of political goals beyond their basis self-interest. This created the basis from which citizens could contribute to the creation of a just constitution. The state, in turn, had a central role in fostering the emotional faculties of the citizenry. Women, moreover, had an identical capacity for moral and political judgement as men. They made this argument both in the public display of their collaboration, and in texts that they co-authored together. This Chapter makes the case for Grouchy’s co-authorship of Condorcet’s influential 1791 Cinq mémoires de l’instruction publique and argues for her centrality to Condorcet’s revolutionary thinking and career.

In Elegy 4.9, Propertius provides an aetiology for a detail of the cult of Hercules at the Ara Maxima: the prohibition on women attending the ceremony. He presents this particularity as a retaliatory measure taken by the hero himself, who reacted to the banning of any male from the space in which the cult of Bona Dea is celebrated. Propertius describes the priestess of Bona Dea as trying to prevent Hercules from entering the sacred space by arguing that female chastity must be respected. After having argued that there is no insurmountable difference between the sexes since there may be role reversal between men and women, Hercules forces the door. Propertius uses this episode located in ancient Latium to put forward some reflections on a (modern) topic, specific to the elegiac genre: sexual identity and gender relations. He presents an alternative point of view that includes both facets of what Augustus seeks to impose in his politics of promoting ancient social practices, essentially concerned with control over morality and sexuality: a strict conception of female morality, and a crucial questioning of gender conceptions: what makes the difference between the sexes? It is dress, behaviour or the body?

This chapter picks up the discussion on gendered violence and gendered order established by the Nazarbayev regime. Never before did any movement pay so much attention to this agenda. Never before in the contemporary history of Kazakhstan did protest movements call out openly on double oppression of the regime – through its patriarchal and authoritarian nature of governing. In this chapter, I also focus on the ideas of class, inequality, and transnational dialogue of Oyan, Qazaqstan and Qazaq Koktemi with other protest movements in the world. Dwelling further on my argument about Qazaq Koktemi representing the fading of the post-Soviet era, I also analyse in detail the 8 March 2021 Women’s Rally in Almaty and the many actors united behind its call for de-Sovietizing and de-stereotyping this vital day of mobilization. I believe that the 2021 Women’s March opened many eyes to the fact that there is a vibrant plurality of views and activist forms within Qazaq Koktemi and that these forms are no longer chained by the old paradigms of the ‘gender’ question in Nazarbayev’s terms, with the tokenization of female politicians and persistent sexism in the political domain.

Sociologist and tango dancer Kathy Davis provides an ethnographic exploration of passion in tango dancers, and she illustrates how such passion is embodied, attached to strongly felt emotions, and implicated in biographical transformations. She argues that tango dancing offers a perfect site for understanding the importance of passion in ordinary people’s everyday lives, gender relations in late modernity, and the possibilities and pitfalls of transnational encounters in a globalizing world.

Iran pursued many secular reforms during the interwar years. From revamping its educational system to dictating new modes of dress, including unveiling, the first Pahlavi state pushed through sometimes controversial changes that fueled opposition and dissent. America expanded its involvement in Iran’s cultural affairs as these transformations were taking place. Iran celebrated its pre-Islamic past and invited American and other Orientalists to participate in such programs. As American missionary influence in Iran declined, American scholars and diplomats instead became more actively involved in Iranian cultural and educational affairs.

Australian women writers have always been among the most internationally successful producers of anglophone romantic fiction. This chapter explores Australian romance novels from the mid-nineteenth to the early twentieth century to consider how Australian women writers thought and wrote about romantic love, marriage and gender relations. It argues that early Australian romances display unexpectedly unromantic misgivings about love and marriage for women, and that Australian women writers used the genre to argue that love, marriage and domesticity are not enough to make women happy and provide them with fulfilling lives. The novels of Rosa Praed and Marie Bjelke Petersen, among others, suggest that, in addition to love and a life partner, Australian women need the opportunity of meaningful work and a higher purpose to make marriage successful and to find satisfaction in their lives.

Widespread cultural sensibilities about gender, sexuality, age, and status converge on the dressed body, weighing down on women’s bodies much more heavily than on men’s. Reactions to the miniskirt go to the heart of normative cultural assumptions about the hierarchical nature of gender relations in most of Zambia’s ethnic groups and across the country’s class spectrum. When miniskirts first became fashionable in the late 1960s and early 1970s, they fueled discussions about women’s proper place in the new nation; ‘foreign’ influences were blamed for independent women’s lack of morality. In the 1990s when the miniskirt returned, the debate developed a sharper and violent edge, mobilising ideas associating sexuality with women’s dress practice. Stripping incidents of women wearing short skirts and tight clothing occurred in downtown space again and again during the 2000s. Recently they have been followed by protests that are turning violence against women into a general social issue.

Krystyna Duniec and Agata Adamiecka-Sitek question the seemingly incontestable values and lineages of standard historiographies that are foundationally patriarchal and evidence how theatre profited from the trade in women’s bodies, and Duniec notes that through theatre we can chart the move from marginalization to empowered presence for LGBTQ groups. Duniec focuses on the interwar period, which she interprets as a time of tremendous innovation in theatre practices that remain/repeat today. She notes that through theatre we can chart the move from marginalization to empowered presence for LGBTQ groups. The Polish People’s Republic, as Adamiecka-Sitek shows, proclaimed gender equality but in reality reproduced bourgeois gender relations that excluded women from empowered positions in theatre institutions. She then charts how women’s narratives emerged outside of a ‘homosocial’ order built on fraternal ties that she traces from the establishment of public theatre.

Do gender roles and relations change upon displacement and during refugees’ encampment, and if so how? By drawing on Hearn’s theory of the hegemony of men as its analytical matrix, this chapter addresses gender systems pre-flight and in Uganda’s Kyaka II, and explores the perceptions of women, men, teenager girls and boys, as well as of aid workers. Systems pre-flight were widely noted to be patriarchal—with men as the hegemonic actor to whom women and youth should submit—while practiced differently across ethnic groups. Such tendencies were also widely shared as ‘normal’ in the camp, but shifts therein did occur. In addition to some men accepting and others contesting the use of force as a legitimate social practice to maintain their dominance, many women in Kyaka II depicted their various roles; teenage girls and boys tended to find their peers to be rather equal meanwhile, but expressed patriarchal perceptions regarding adults. Gender relations were (re)negotiated, and different patterns hereof arose in Kyaka II. Through the nature of the humanitarian support provided, aid workers were influential too. It is argued that they assigned roles, but at the same time hindered men and women from fulfilling them; with their power, aid workers figuratively also became part of the gender systems on-site.

The book concludes by summarizing the main findings of each preceding chapter as well as reflecting on how gender-based violence, humanitarian structures, gender relations, and coping strategies represent inherently intertwined subject matters that cannot be discussed in isolation. In addition the role of time and space is addressed, which runs as a core theme throughout the book—albeit ones not directly theorized. Finally, some areas requiring close further research going forward are identified.