In his view, much if not all of the horror that plagued East Timor in 1999 and in the 24 preceding years could have been avoided had countries like Australia, Japan, the United Kingdom, and especially the United States, not provided Indonesia with valuable political, economic, and military assistance, as well as diplomatic cover.

An invaluable introduction to the subject of genocide, explaining its history from pre-modern times to the present day, with a wide variety of case studies. Recent events in the former Yugoslavia, Rwanda, East Timor and Iraq have demonstrated with appalling clarity that the threat of genocide is still a major issue within world politics. The book examines the differing interpretations of genocide from psychology, sociology, anthropology and political science and analyzes the influence of race, ethnicity, nationalism and gender on genocides. In the final section, the author examines how we punish those responsible for waging genocide and how the international community can prevent further bloodshed.

In a new historical interpretation of the relationship between Australia and East Timor, Susan Connelly draws on the mimetic theory of René Girard to show how the East Timorese people were scapegoated by Australian foreign policy during the 20th century. Charting key developments in East Timor's history and applying three aspects of Girard's framework – the scapegoat, texts of persecution and conversion – Connelly reveals Australia's mimetic dependence on Indonesia and other nations for security. She argues that Australia's complicity in the Indonesian invasion and occupation of East Timor perpetuated the sacrifice of the Timorese people as victims, thus calling into question the traditional Australian values of egalitarianism and fairness. Connelly also examines the embryonic conversion process apparent in levels of recognition of the innocent victim and of the Australian role in East Timor's suffering, as well as the consequent effects on Australian self-perception. Emphasising Girardian considerations of fear, suffering, forgiveness and conversion, this book offers a fresh perspective on Australian and Timorese relations that in turn sheds light on the origins and operations of human violence.

This book focuses on the role of the processes and mechanisms involved in metropolitan identity construction, maintenance, and change in twentieth century decolonization, an event integral to world politics but little studied in International Relations.

Geography encompasses everything from the local—where human beings live, work, and travel—to metageographies like nations and regions. James A. Tyner's inventive and multidisciplinary ideas on geography similarly range from the personal—his father's experience in the military during the Vietnam War—to a broad discussion of how the United States has come to exercise power through the production of geographic knowledge, in this case in Southeast Asia. Since the end of the Second World War, Southeast Asia has served as a surrogate space to further American imperial interests, which are economic, political, territorial, and moral in scope. America's Strategy in Southeast Asia contends that the construction of Southeast Asia as a geographic entity has been a crucial component in the creation of the American empire. For example, America's most blatant experience of colonial rule occurred the Philippines, America's longest war was fought in Vietnam, and most recently, some American policymakers have identified Southeast Asia as the "Second Front" in the War on Terror. Yet, America's overriding strategy in Southeast Asia and the region itself remains something of a mystery for the American populace—a "black box" in America's geographical imagination. This clear and innovative book educates readers about Southeast Asia's importance in American foreign policy.

The telling of tales is always a troubling business, and the way in which we tell stories about ourselves and about others always involves a degree of ethical risk. Levinas, Storytelling and Anti-Storytelling explores the troubling nature of storytelling through a reading of the work of Emmanuel Levinas. Levinas is a thinker who has a complex relationship with literature and with storytelling. At times, Levinas is a teller of powerful tales about ethics; at other times, on ethical grounds, he disavows storytelling altogether. Levinas, Storytelling and Anti-Storytelling explores the tensions between philosophy and storytelling that run throughout Levinas's work. By asking about how Levinas tells and untells his stories, and by risking the telling of tales that Levinas himself does not dare to tell, this book opens up new ways of thinking about Levinas's ethics of responsibility. It may be, as Levinas often insists, that storytelling presents us with ethical dangers; but Levinas, Storytelling and Anti-Storytelling makes the case that an ethics of responsibility may demand that, whilst mindful of these dangers, we nevertheless continually seek out new stories to tell about ourselves, about others and about the world.

Celeste Ng and Liane Moriarty’s enthralling dissection of suburbia meets Shirley Jackson’s creeping dread in this “wickedly funny, unnerving puzzle box of a novel” (Dan Chaon, author of Ill Will) about the downward spiral of a Long Island community after a tragedy exposes its residents’ depths of deception. Welcome to Maple Street, a picture-perfect slice of suburban Long Island, its residents bound by their children, their work, and their illusion of safety in a rapidly changing world. But menace skulks among this exclusive enclave. When the Wilde family arrive, they trigger their neighbors’ worst fears. Dad Arlo’s a gruff has-been rock star with track marks. Mom Gertie’s got a thick Brooklyn accent, with high heels and tube tops to match. Their weird kids cuss like sailors. They don’t fit with the way Maple Street sees itself. Maple Street’s Queen Bee, Rhea Schroeder—a lonely professor repressing a dark past—initially welcomed Gertie, but relations plummeted during one summer evening, when the new best friends shared too much, too soon. By the time the story opens, the Wildes are outcasts. As tensions mount, a sinkhole opens in a nearby park, and Rhea’s daughter Shelly falls inside. The search for Shelly brings a shocking accusation against the Wildes. Suddenly, it is one mom’s word against the other’s in a court of public opinion that can end only in blood. Riveting and ruthless, Good Neighbors is “a chilling, compulsively readable novel that looks toward the future in order to help us understand how we live now” (Kevin Wilson, author of Nothing to See Here).