No abstract

In a recent article, Steven Lukes offers a thought-provoking reflection on the apparently growing resort to torture by liberal democracies today. Professor Lukes aptly asks whether ‘torture is just another case of dirty hands in politics?’ – that is, the idea that in order to do the right thing or achieve the best public outcome in the circumstances one cannot avoid committing a wrong, such as deceit or cruelty. His answer is that torture differs from other cases of dirty hands in that it cannot be made ‘liberal-democratically accountable’, thus raising the question of ‘how should it be addressed in liberal democracies?’ Here he suggests we can learn from the sociologist Emile Durkheim and, especially, his conception of modern societies as being held together by a ‘religion of individualism’. Allowing state officials to violate basic rights of the individual thus profanes against the religion and threatens the ‘moral disintegration’ of society itself. Lukes argues that Durkheim's account helps us see both the folly in ‘certain ways of thinking and talking about torture’, such as construing it as a ‘lesser evil’ given the competing claims of risk and security, and the damage that liberal democracies inflict on themselves, in responding to the threat of terrorism, by so readily compromising their own principles.There is much that is appealing in Professor Lukes's remarks. I also share his concern about the current erosion of civil liberties in liberal democracies. I wish, however, to raise some doubts about three key aspects of his argument: that torture is not susceptible to liberal-democratic accountability; that the ‘Durkheimian argument’ effectively precludes the practice of torture; and that we cannot rightly speak of torture as a ‘lesser evil’.

A standard problem in empirical inquiry is how to adjudicate between contending theories when they work from different fundamental assumptions. In the field of political sociology, several strategies are adopted, from metatheoretical and comparative historical approaches to the recent formal models of scientific growth proposed by Imre Lakatos and Larry Laudan. After considering the limitations of these approaches, I develop an alternative strategy—"second—order empiricism"—based on the idea that successor theories have an onus to explain the apparent success of their rivals, not only their own and their rivals' anomalies. Such a strategy, I argue, underscores some of the most effective analysis and argument in political sociology, yet is obscured by the appeal to other methodologies.

Tariq Modood, Bhikhu Parekh, Nasar Meer and Varun Uberoi are well known for their defence of multiculturalism in Britain and beyond. The article contends that the collective oeuvre of these and other scholars associated with the University of Bristol's Centre for the Study of Ethnicity and Citizenship represents a distinctive and important school of multicultural political thought, a 'Bristol school of multiculturalism'. The school challenges the liberal biases of much of the corpus of multicultural political thinking and the nostrums of British and other western democracies regarding the status of the majority culture as well as of cultural minorities. It is an identarian and assertive multiculturalism that, above all, seeks inclusion and a sense of belonging in the national community. The article situates the Bristol school in the British context in which it arose, outlines its distinctive approach and principles and critically assesses its positions on liberalism and national identity. It also raises the question of the political acceptability of the Bristol school's 'muscular multiculturalism'.

Deportation and denationalisation policies, which states employ to expel persons from their territory and membership respectively, have steadily increased in prominence over the last two decades. This special issue investigates these distinct but related phenomena and their relationship with, and implications for our understanding of, citizenship. In this editorial introduction, we outline the two main questions the different contributions to this special issue address. First, why has the 21 st century seen a (partial) reversal of the trend of increasingly constrained denationalisation and deportation practices that occurred in the second half of the 20 th century? Second, what are the normative implications of this reversal, specifically for our understanding of citizenship and belonging in our increasingly interconnected and mobile world? The individual contributions to this issue are introduced throughout, and the introduction concludes with some remarks on future research.