Jim Smyth – författare

The historian A. T. Q. Stewart once remarked that in Ireland all history is applied history—that is, the study of the past prosecutes political conflict by other means. Indeed, nearly twenty years after the 1998 Belfast Agreement, "dealing with the past" remains near the top of the political agenda in Northern Ireland. The essays in this volume, by leading experts in the fields of Irish and British history, politics, and international studies, explore the ways in which competing "social" or "collective memories" of the Northern Ireland "Troubles" continue to shape the post-conflict political landscape.The contributors to this volume embrace a diversity of perspectives: the Provisional Republican version of events, as well as that of its Official Republican rival; Loyalist understandings of the recent past as well as the British Army's authorized for-the-record account; the importance of commemoration and memorialization to Irish Republican culture; and the individual memory of one of the noncombatants swept up in the conflict. Tightly specific, sharply focused, and rich in local detail, these essays make a significant contribution to the burgeoning literature of history and memory. The book will interest students and scholars of Irish studies, contemporary British history, memory studies, conflict resolution, and political science.Contributors: Jim Smyth, Ian McBride, Ruan O'Donnell, Aaron Edwards, James W. McAuley, Margaret O'Callaghan, John Mulqueen, and Cathal Goan.

The men of no property is a study of the popular dimensions of Irish radicalism in the age of the French revolution. It focuses on the lower-class secret society, the Defenders, which diverged from the older patterns of rural unrest associated with the Whiteboys, by developing political aspirations. This book also looks at the more familiar face of radicalism in this period, the Society of United Irishmen, at their role in the Catholic Committee and at their uneasy relationship with Defenderism. Particular attention is paid to the vigorous traditions of street protest in 18th century Dublin, the `second city' of the British empire. The picture which merges is of a revolutionary movement which was both more radical in its rhetoric and objectives and more popular in its social base than has previously been allowed.

The study of Ireland in the explosive decade of the 1790s is a growing area in the study of Irish history. Historians generally focus on on the radical and revolutionary United Irish movement, popular politics, and the lower-class secret society, the Defenders. This volume of essays explores United Irish propaganda and organisation, and looks at the forces of revolution before and during the 1798 rebellion. It also begins to redress imbalances in the historiography of the period by turning to the face of counter-revolution - examining the crisis in law and order, the role of the magistrates, the strength and weaknesses of the state, and the scope and character of the repression following the rebellion. Other essays consider the short-term and longer-term consequences of these momentous events, including their impact upon the churches, the Act of Union, and the politics of early nineteenth-century America.

The study of Ireland in the explosive decade of the 1790s is a growing area in the study of Irish history. Historians generally focus on on the radical and revolutionary United Irish movement, popular politics, and the lower-class secret society, the Defenders. This volume of essays explores United Irish propaganda and organisation, and looks at the forces of revolution before and during the 1798 rebellion. It also begins to redress imbalances in the historiography of the period by turning to the face of counter-revolution - examining the crisis in law and order, the role of the magistrates, the strength and weaknesses of the state, and the scope and character of the repression following the rebellion. Other essays consider the short-term and longer-term consequences of these momentous events, including their impact upon the churches, the Act of Union, and the politics of early nineteenth-century America.

This book is a detailed analysis of policing in Northern Ireland. Tracing its history from 1922, Ellison and Smyth portray the Royal Ulster Constabulary (RUC) as an organisation burdened by its past as a colonial police force. They analyse its perceived close relationship with unionism and why, for many nationalists, the RUC embodied the problem of the legitimacy of Northern Ireland, arguing that decisions made on the organisation, composition and ideology of policing in the early years of the state had consequences which went beyond the everyday practice of policing. Examining the reorganisations of the RUC in the 1970s and 1980s, Ellison and Smyth focus on the various structural, legal and ideological components, the professionalisation of the force and the development of a coherent, if contradictory, ideology.

Britain in the 1950s had a distinctive political and intellectual climate. It was the age of Keynesianism, of welfare state consensus, incipient consumerism, and, to its detractors - the so-called 'Angry Young Men' and the emergent New Left - a new age of complacency. While Prime Minister Harold Macmillan famously remarked that 'most of our people have never had it so good', the playwright John Osborne lamented that 'there aren't any good, brave causes left'.Philosophers, political scientists, economists and historians embraced the supposed 'end of ideology' and fetishized 'value-free' technique and analysis. This turn is best understood in the context of the cultural Cold War in which 'ideology' served as shorthand for Marxist, but it also drew on the rich resources and traditions of English empiricism and a Burkean scepticism about abstract theory in general. Ironically, cultural critics and historians such as Raymond Williams and E.P. Thompson showed at this time that the thick catalogue of English moral, aesthetic and social critique could also be put to altogether different purposes.Jim Smyth here shows that, despite being allergic to McCarthy-style vulgarity, British intellectuals in the 1950s operated within powerful Cold War paradigms all the same.

Britain in the 1950s had a distinctive political and intellectual climate. It was the age of Keynesianism, of welfare state consensus, incipient consumerism, and, to its detractors - the so-called 'Angry Young Men' and the emergent New Left - a new age of complacency. While Prime Minister Harold Macmillan famously remarked that 'most of our people have never had it so good', the playwright John Osborne lamented that 'there aren't any good, brave causes left'.Philosophers, political scientists, economists and historians embraced the supposed 'end of ideology' and fetishized 'value-free' technique and analysis. This turn is best understood in the context of the cultural Cold War in which 'ideology' served as shorthand for Marxist, but it also drew on the rich resources and traditions of English empiricism and a Burkean scepticism about abstract theory in general. Ironically, cultural critics and historians such as Raymond Williams and E.P. Thompson showed at this time that the thick catalogue of English moral, aesthetic and social critique could also be put to altogether different purposes.Jim Smyth here shows that, despite being allergic to McCarthy-style vulgarity, British intellectuals in the 1950s operated within powerful Cold War paradigms all the same.