Professional Documents
Culture Documents
Discovering
Childhood
in International
Relations
Editor
J. Marshall Beier
Department of Political Science
McMaster University
Hamilton, ON, Canada
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For the young people actively remaking our world
Acknowledgments
vii
viii ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
ix
x CONTENTS
Index 263
Notes on Contributors
xi
xii NOTES ON CONTRIBUTORS
J. Marshall Beier
J. M. Beier (*)
Department of Political Science,
McMaster University, Hamilton, ON, Canada
e-mail: mbeier@mcmaster.ca
fails to ignite that very sense of obligation and the apparent disconnect
between ethical reflection and lived experience, revealed in the experi-
ment, is Singer’s entre to making some weighty propositions on recon-
ciling ethics and self-interest as a route to the ethical life. Beyond the
particular insights Singer urges us to draw from his experiment, though,
it is interesting too for what it leaves unexplored: ironically, the child at
the center of the scenario.
What do we know about Singer’s child? On first gloss, it might seem
precious little. Despite repeated references to her/him/them in the first
paragraphs of the essay, nothing is said to give even the slightest hint
about, for example, age or gender or any other identity characteristic.
Indeed, no physical description of any sort is offered and the child is not
placed in a broader social context. We know that the child’s immedi-
ate situation is urgent but are not able to glean anything about any cir-
cumstances more generally or apart from that specific plight. And, while
Singer’s students are positioned as both the subjects of ethical deliber-
ation and hypothetical would-be rescuers, the child is imbued with no
agency whatsoever. In fact, the only thing said of the child is that he/
she/they is/are drowning. This, however, describes the child’s predic-
ament rather than the child, who is rendered utterly one-dimensional
as, simply, ‘child.’ The ostensible focal point of the scenario seems, par-
adoxically, to warrant no further ascription or elaboration. And yet, from
this it becomes clear that, while we have been told very little, we actually
know quite a lot—so much so, in fact, that the intelligibility of Singer’s
experiment depends on it.
Singer’s child is the quintessential person in need, understood at once
as the very embodiment of helplessness. Deployed as a rhetorical device,
the child in need of rescue or protection draws on inveterate ideas about
innocent, vulnerable, and precious childhood so pervasive and so deeply
held that they need not be explicitly described. ‘Child’ functions as the
byword of these qualities, which are customarily and reliably taken to
be its defining features, and therefore invites no dithering on questions
of the need for or propriety of intervention. Nothing of the widely var-
ied subject positions or complex intersectionalities of actual lived child-
hoods is held visible in this formulation, nor does Singer reflect on how
they—or, more particularly, their omission—might bear consequentially
on the responses of his students. It matters to the purpose of his sce-
nario that the object of rescue is the one-dimensional child of hegem-
onic imagining and it matters too that Singer’s students will undoubtedly
1 INTRODUCTION: MAKING SENSE OF CHILDHOOD … 3
Discovering Childhood
Even without inquiring too deeply, it seems odd that IR should need to
be called on to discover children. More than a quarter of the world’s
human population, after all, is aged fourteen years and under, rising to
nearly one third when all those under age eighteen are counted (United
Nations 2017). What is more, despite having received little in the way
of focused attention from IR, the governance of children—from rights
regimes, to regulation of bodily autonomy and security, to the social
spaces they (may) occupy, and more—is nevertheless a key constituent
6 J. M. BEIER
IR, however, the chapter pushes us to think about what IR has to offer
children. This calls for but also goes beyond IR’s own discovery of them.
Probing more deeply on the question of what disciplinary International
Relations has to offer children, Brocklehurst asks in what ways children
might find IR amenable to aiding in their own discovery of international
relations (that is, the worlds of global political life) and International
Relations (the discipline itself). This suggests a direction and projects
that IR would, as yet, find unfamiliar indeed, but for which we are by
now well-positioned to begin preparing more hospitable ground.
Revisiting what is, for IR, the more familiar issue of child sol-
diers (understood primarily as a phenomenon of the Global South), in
Chapter 6, Jana Tabak brings new critical insights to bear in ways that
are instructive as to the investments bound up in dominant discur-
sive framings and the particular kinds of political responses they under-
write. Reprising an approach elaborated in earlier work (Tabak 2020),
she employs the hyphenated “child-soldiers” as a way of foreground-
ing the disruption effected for the boundary between ‘child’ and ‘sol-
dier’ by subjects who are simultaneously both and neither. That is to say,
child-soldiers reside “between” a child subject position that cannot be
reconciled with the commission of political violence and a soldier sub-
ject position that is similarly irreconcilable with prevailing conceptions of
childhood. Framing child-soldiers as ‘emergency,’ Tabak argues that they
are not simply a humanitarian crisis, but a crisis of socio-political order
writ large, and this is revealing of how they are not actually the most
important referent object of the desire to emancipate them and rehabil-
itate not only their childhoods but ‘normal’ childhood itself together
with the ‘normal’ governance of children. We are thus able to glimpse
how, without taking a more critical lens, investigations of child soldiers
as simply an issue area, reproduce governance regimes of childhood and
of modern society wherein recourse to political violence is the preserve
of adults, state institutions aver and regulate the legitimacy of such vio-
lence, and children, as objects of protection, are excluded from political
life.
In Chapter 7, Victoria M. Basham takes the focus to the making of
child soldiers of the Global North. Delving deeply into the martial pol-
itics intersecting particular renderings of childhood and youth in the
historical example of Nazi youth organizations and in contemporary mil-
itary recruitment practices in the United Kingdom, she shows the pivotal
role of ideas about children and childhood in the literal and symbolic
1 INTRODUCTION: MAKING SENSE OF CHILDHOOD … 13
losing sight of what they share in common with/as women and children
when we consider them in analyses of peace and security.
Chapter 11 is offered as a caveat on the trope of the resilient child.
Resilience, which has gained conceptual prominence in a range of con-
texts and across multiple disciplines, including IR, has considerable
promise as an opening for the recovery of the subjecthood of marginal-
ized groups, children among them. At the same time, it entails the risk
of deactivating responsibility toward the vulnerable by the comparatively
privileged and powerful. Working through the example of the unique
social location of children of military families in the Global North, this
chapter inquires into complicated circumstances of vulnerability in the
midst of relative privilege, the interplay of power and subjecthood, and
how resilience work by children is also the work of sustaining and repro-
ducing militarized status quo politics. Still seeing value in the idea of
resilience, the chapter argues for holding it visibly in tension with secu-
rity while linking children’s subjecthood and vulnerability, rather than
treating them as mutually exclusive.
Finally, in Chapter 12, making reference to themes identified in her
2006 call for disciplinary International Relations to approach child-
hood as a “new site of knowledge,” Alison M. S. Watson reflects on
the achievements of the last decade and a half of work on children and
childhoods in IR and on the critical work that remains to be done.
Combining conceptual insights and key tenets developed in childhood
research of recent years with the disappointingly poor pace of progress
on material matters of children’s rights and wellbeing across multiple
global contexts, Watson turns to the rising currency of decolonizing
knowledge practices both to suggest how IR might be made more hos-
pitable to children and childhoods and what children and childhoods
have, in turn, to contribute to decolonial projects in IR. The chapter
concludes, in light of all that is weighed, with a reprised call for children
to be recognized among the most important actors in respect of issues of
current concern to IR scholars, including climate change, development,
displacement, and post-conflict reconciliation—not merely as political
subjects in projects, mobilizations, and resistances, but in the knowledge
practices by which these come to be made intelligible as well.
* * *
Building from the new IR literature on children and childhoods, the
contributors to this volume offer a range of points of entry to wider
conversations. They reveal the important senses in which we have been
16 J. M. BEIER
References
Baines, Erin K. 2009. “Complex Political Perpetrators: Reflections on Dominic
Ongwen.” Journal of Modern African Studies 47 (2): 163–191. https://doi.
org/10.1017/s0022278x09003796.
Basham, Victoria M. 2015. “Telling Geopolitical Tales: Temporality, Rationality,
and the ‘Childish’ in the Ongoing War for the Falklands-Malvinas Islands.”
Critical Studies on Security 3 (1): 77–89. https://doi.org/10.1080/2162488
7.2015.1014698.
Beier, J. Marshall, ed. 2011. The Militarization of Childhood: Thinking Beyond the
Global South. New York: Palgrave Macmillan.
Beier, J. Marshall. 2018. “Ultimate Tests: Children, Rights, and the Politics of
Protection.” Global Responsibility to Protect 10 (1–2): 164–187. https://doi.
org/10.1163/1875984x-01001009.
1 INTRODUCTION: MAKING SENSE OF CHILDHOOD … 17
Decolonizing Childhood
in International Relations
Katrina Lee-Koo
Introduction
Childhood is often invoked to convey meaning in global politics.
Conjure up an image of the second Indochina (Vietnam) war of the
1960s and 1970s, the Ethiopian famine of the 1980s, the so-called
diamond wars of the 1990s, the recent Syrian refugee crisis, or the
conflict in Yemen and chances are you will recall a powerful image or
statement regarding a child. From the iconic 1972 photograph of
nine-year-old Kim Phúc running naked down the street after a napalm
attack on her Vietnamese village, to the 2015 image of the lifeless body
of three-year-old Syrian Alan Kurdi on a Turkish beach, the experiences
of children and our understanding of childhood filters our interpretation
of global politics. It helps us to cast political actors as ‘good’ or ‘bad’
and provides us with a compass that orients us towards what we imagine
to be moral, merciful, and humane politics. In particular, where we see
that childhood has been lost—because children are carrying AK-47s,
have bellies protruding from famine, or are orphaned in refugee camps—
we know that there has been an aberration of care in global politics.
K. Lee-Koo (*)
Monash University, Melbourne, VIC, Australia
e-mail: Katrina.Leekoo@monash.edu
This can give us pause to question the direction of global politics, and
provide justification for the need to take action.
But, of course, children are more than just a series of images and sym-
bols that help global audiences to interpret and respond to global politi-
cal events. Children—as human beings—are mutually constitutive of every
aspect of global politics. They contribute to its operation, and are shaped
by its machinations. Like adults, they are witnesses, victims, and agents to
every single global event. Children were among the protestors in Tahrir
Square on the eve of the Arab Spring, they throw rocks at Israeli tanks
in Gaza, they demand gun control in the United States, and agitate for
global action on climate change. As such, they shape global politics just
as global politics shapes them. Yet the disciplinary study of International
Relations pays little attention to the relationships children have with
global politics. Instead, the discipline generally prefers to place them apart
from adults who are seen as the only legitimate agents of International
Relations. In fact, as a discipline, International Relations is only recently
beginning to demonstrate a curiosity towards the roles that children and
childhood play in shaping global politics and our understanding of it.
The purpose of this chapter is to contribute to the existing body
of research that shatters the myth that children and childhood do not
meaningfully inform the disciplinary understanding of International
Relations. In doing so, the goal of the chapter is to demonstrate the
value of considering children and childhood as relevant and useful in the
study of IR. To do this, this chapter begins by making two important
distinctions: the first is between the disciplinary study of International
Relations and the practices of global politics; the second is between the
discursive constructions of childhood as something that may be quite
different from the lived experiences of children as embodied actors and
agents in global politics. These distinctions are necessary in exploring
what the chapter identifies as three inter-related, but nonetheless quite
distinct, sets of politics: the lived experiences of children in global poli-
tics; the discursive construction of childhood in global politics; and, the
consideration given to both in the discipline of International Relations.
With these distinctions in mind, this chapter argues that there is a
dualistic approach to ‘the child.’ Quite simply, this duality exists because
children can be simultaneously powerful and powerless. As suggested
above, children shape global politics. With 26% of the world’s popula-
tion under the age of fifteen, how could they not? Children demonstrate
both positive and negative agency in every crisis point around the world;
2 DECOLONIZING CHILDHOOD IN INTERNATIONAL RELATIONS 23
can marry, consume alcohol, drive, join the army, be charged with a
criminal offence, or have sex. The difference in legislation cannot be
explained by biology but rather by the values and experiences of the soci-
ety, including socio-economic class, religion, ethnicity, or gender.
Despite there being widespread acceptance that childhood is a fluid
concept, the liberal approach has remained dominant. Consequently, it
has shaped how childhood has been imagined in the West, and strongly
influenced the model that has been developed globally through docu-
ments like the UN Convention. While the potential benefits of this were
outlined above, Vanessa Pupavac (2001) argues that this has had a neg-
ative impact upon other ways of practicing childhood. She claims that it
has not erased or consumed other concepts of childhood, but rather set
a Western standard (which has assumed strong moral weighting) against
which other conceptions of childhood will be judged and ultimately
found wanting (Pupavac 2001: 102). In fact, there has been widespread
critique of the liberal-inspired UN Convention on the grounds that it
establishes culturally and politically specific experiences of childhood as
the norm. Alison M. S. Watson (2006: 231) notes that, “in many ways,
then, the existing body of international law adheres to an idealised
notion of childhood, which employs an (affluent) Western view of it, as
opposed to one that could manage to incorporate an actual portrayal of
(poor) children in the South.” According to this critique, children whose
experiences are outside this standard are seen as aberrations and their
childhoods marked as abnormal or even immoral. Similarly, societies
which are unable or unwilling to practice the liberal model of childhood
are marked as uncivilized or undeveloped (see, for example, Pupavac
2001; Cheney 2005: 38; Watson 2006; Carpenter 2009: 39; Beier
2018: 181). As will be discussed in further detail below, David Campbell
(2012) and others argue that this creates the foundation for metaphors
by which cultures, nations and even entire regions are depicted as either
being child-like, or barbaric because of their failure to maintain ‘normal’
childhood.
Critiques of the liberal vision of childhood also argue that it confuses
the idealized perception of children as apolitical beings with a belief that
this is their inherent nature. In this sense, it has encouraged a vision that
children should not just be free of political obligations, but are actu-
ally incapable of undertaking them (see Huynh 2015: 37–42). Further
feminising their identities, it securely locates them in the private, or
2 DECOLONIZING CHILDHOOD IN INTERNATIONAL RELATIONS 27
domestic sphere, outside the realm of public political action. The cul-
tural attitude within liberal states is that children should be protected
from, rather than exposed to politics, and that politics is beyond their
comprehension. This was demonstrated, for example, in November 2018
following a n ation-wide protest by Australian school students for action
on climate change. In response to their calls, Australian Prime Minister
Scott Morrison declared in Parliament that children should undertake
more learning and less activism in school. Such statements reinforce ideas
that children’s age and apolitical status render them incapable of usefully
contributing to political life. J. Marshall Beier (2018: 174) argues that
“constructed outside of political subjecthood and therefore outside of
political life, children are positioned as the quintessential innocents…”.
As will be discussed further below, the labelling of innocence—and even
defencelessness—makes children powerful, evocative, and unquestiona-
ble symbols in global politics.
Closely aligned with the idea that children are innocent of pol-
itics, is the notion that children are also victims of politics who are in
need of protection. If the liberal goal is to separate children from the
political realm, then any engagement that children have with global
politics—such as during times of conflict or crisis—renders them vulner-
able. This is why images of children in political crisis can instigate the
often-problematic politics of protection. Campbell (2012: 82) argues
that “the efficacy of the child as symbol flows from a number of associ-
ated cultural assumptions: children are abstracted from culture and soci-
ety, granted an innate innocence, seen to be dependent [and] requiring
protection.” Indeed, it is difficult to deny that children who become
entrapped in conflict, forced migration, slavery, or poverty are vic-
tims of global politics and should be afforded some kind of protection.
However, the constellation of innocence, victimhood, and protection
denies children agency by setting an all-encompassing image whereby
children are only ever victims. This blanket portrayal masks any claims
they may make to political agency. Watson (2015: 47) describes victim-
hood as a totalizing concept whereby one cannot reasonably be consid-
ered a victim and simultaneously enact rational agency. Similarly, Beier
(2018: 166–167) notes that “notwithstanding what may oft-times be
quite conspicuous performances of agency, inscriptions of victimhood
have an inherently objectifying effect, reducing those so inscribed to
28 K. LEE-KOO
Fig. 117.—Two fragments from the Balawat gates. British Museum. Drawn by
Saint-Elme Gautier.
We should have been willing, had it been possible, to make
further extracts from this curious series of reliefs; to have shown,
here naked prisoners defiling under the eyes of the conqueror, there
Assyrian archers shooting at the heaped-up heads of their slain
enemies. But we have perforce been content with giving, by a few
carefully chosen examples, a fair idea of the work that intervened
between the sculptors of Assurnazirpal and those of the Sargonids.
It is probable that the scheme of this vast composition was due to
a single mind; from one end to the other there is an obvious similarity
of thought and style. But several different hands must have been
employed upon its execution, which is far from being of equal merit
throughout. It is on examining the original that we are struck by these
inequalities. Thus, in some of the long rows of captives the handling
is timid and without meaning, while in others it has all the firmness
and decision of the best among the alabaster or limestone reliefs;
the muscular forms, the action of the calf and knee, are well
understood and frankly reproduced. The passages we have chosen
for illustration are among the best in this respect. Taking them all in
all these bronze reliefs are among the works that do most honour to
Assyrian art.
The only monument that has come down to us from the reign of
Vulush III., the successor of Samas-vul, is a statue, or rather a pair
of statues, of Nebo; the better of the two is reproduced in Fig. 15 of
our first volume. These sacred images are of very slight merit from
an art point of view; we should hardly have referred to them but for
their votive inscriptions. From these we learn that they were
consecrated in the Temple of Nebo by the prefect of Calah in order
to bespeak the protection of that god for the king. But the latter is not
named alone; the faithful subject says that he offers these idols “for
his master Vulush and his mistress Sammouramit.”
In this latter name it is difficult not to recognize the Semiramis of
the Greeks, and we are led to ask ourselves whether the queen of
Vulush may not have afforded a prototype for that legendary
princess. This association of a female name with that of the king is
almost without parallel either in Chaldæa or Assyria. In royal
documents, as well as in those of a more private character, there is
no more mention of the royal wives than if they did not exist. Only
one explanation can be given of the apparent anomaly, and that is
that Sammouramit, for reasons that may be easily guessed, enjoyed
a quite exceptional position. It was in those days that, from one reign
to another, the princes of Calah attempted to complete the
subjugation of Chaldæa. It may have happened that in order to put
an end to a state of never-ending rebellion, Vulush married the
heiress of some powerful and popular family of the lower country,
and, that he might be looked upon as the legitimate ruler of Babylon,
joined her name with his in the royal style and title. This hypothesis
finds some confirmation in what Herodotus tells us about Semiramis.
She was, he says, queen of Babylon five generations before Nitocris,
which would be about a century and a half. He adds that she caused
the quays of the Euphrates to be built.[242] This takes us back to
rather beyond the middle of the eighth century b.c., that is very near
to the date which Assyrian chronology would fix for the reign of
Vulush (810–781). As the last representative of the old national
dynasty, this Semiramis, associated as she was in the exercise, or at
least in the show, of sovereign power both in Assyria and Chaldæa,
would not be forgotten by her countrymen, and the population of
Babylon would be especially likely to magnify the part she had
played. There is nothing fabulous in the tradition as Herodotus gives
it, although it may, perhaps, go beyond the truth here and there.
Ctesias, however, goes much farther. He brings together and
amplifies tales which had already received many additions in the half
century that separated him from Herodotus, and he thus creates the
type of that Semiramis, the wife of Ninus and the conqueror of all
Asia, who so long held an undeserved place in ancient history.[243]
The last Calah prince who has left us anything is Tiglath-Pileser
II. (745–727). We have already described how his palace was
destroyed by Esarhaddon, who employed its materials for his own
purposes.[244] At the British Museum there are a few fragments
which have been recognized by their inscriptions as belonging to his
work (Vol. I. Fig. 26)[245]; they are quite similar to those of his
immediate predecessors.
With the new dynasty founded by Sargon at the end of the eighth
century taste changed fast enough. In those bas-reliefs in the
Khorsabad palace which represent that king’s campaigns, many
details are treated in a spirit very different from that of former days.
Trees, for instance, are no longer abstract signs standing for no one
kind of vegetation more than another; the sculptor begins to notice
their distinguishing features and to give their proper physiognomy to
the different countries overrun by the Assyrians. But these landscape
backgrounds are not to be found in all the bas-reliefs of Khorsabad.
[246]
The art of Sargon was an art of transition. While on the one hand
it endeavoured to open up new ground, on the other it travelled on
the old ways and followed many of the ancient errors; it had a
marked predilection for figures larger than nature, and bas-reliefs
treating of royal pageants and processions remind us by the
simplicity of their conception of those of Assurnazirpal. We have
already given many fragments (Vol I. Figs. 22–24, and 29), and now
we give another, a vizier and a eunuch standing before the king in
the characteristic attitude of respect (Fig. 118). The inscription which
cut the figures of Assurnazirpal so awkwardly in two has
disappeared; the proportions have gained in slenderness, and the
muscular development, though still strongly marked, has lost some
of its exaggeration. All this shows progress, and yet on the whole the
Louvre relief is less happy in its effect than the best of the Nimroud
sculptures in the British Museum. The execution is neither so firm
nor so frank; the relief is much higher and the modelling a little heavy
and bulbous in consequence. This result may also be caused to
some extent by the nature of the material, which is a softer alabaster
than was employed, so far as we know, in any other part of Assyria.
At Nimroud a fine limestone was chiefly used.
We shall be contented with mentioning the stele of Sargon, found
near Larnaca, in Cyprus, in 1845. It is most important as an historical
monument; it proves that, as a sequel to his Syrian conquests, the
terror of Sargon’s name was so widespread that even the inhabitants
of the islands thought it prudent to declare themselves his vassals,
and to set up his image as a sign of homage rendered and
allegiance sworn. But the stone is now too much broken to be of any
great interest as a work of art.[247]
The artistic masterpiece of this epoch is the bronze lion figured in
our Plate XI. It had been suggested that its use was to hold down the
cords of a tent or the lower edge of tapestries, a purpose for which
the weight of the bronze and the ring fixed in its back make it well
suited. This idea had to be abandoned, however, when a whole
series of similar figures marked with the name of Sennacherib was
found. Their execution was hardly equal to that of the lion we have
figured, but their general characteristics were the same, and they
had rings on their backs.[248]
These lions are sixteen in number; they form a series in which
the size of the animal becomes steadily smaller with each example;
the largest is a foot long, the smallest hardly more than an inch. The
decrease seems to follow a certain rule, but rust has affected them
too greatly for it to be easy to base any metrological calculation upon
their weight. But all doubt as to their use is removed by the
inscriptions in cuneiform and in ancient Aramaic characters with
which several of them are engraved. The Aramaic inscriptions all
begin with the word mine; then comes a figure indicating the number
of mines, or of subdivisions of the mine that the weight represents;
finally, there is the name of some personage, who may perhaps have
been a magistrate charged with the regulation and verification of
weights.
Fig. 118.—Bas-relief from Khorsabad. Height 9 feet 5
inches. Louvre.
With the accession of Sennacherib, a sensible change comes
over the aspect of the reliefs. What until now has been the exception
becomes the rule. On almost every slab we find a complex and
carefully treated landscape background. The artist is not satisfied
with indicating the differences between conifers, cypresses, and
pines (Vol. I. Figs, 41–43), palms (ib. Figs. 30 and 34; and above,