Frontmatter -- Contents -- Preface -- Acknowledgments -- 1 Solidarity Art -- 2 Beginnings Unemployment and Joining Groups -- 3 The First Arpillera Groups -- 4 Arpillera Making in Other Groups and Its Spread -- 5 Producing the Arpilleras -- 6 Selling Arpilleras -- 7 The Buyers Abroad -- 8 Selling, Giving, and Exhibiting Arpilleras in Chile -- 9 The Consequences of Arpillera Making -- 10 Conclusion -- Notes -- Bibliography -- Index
Zugriffsoptionen:
Die folgenden Links führen aus den jeweiligen lokalen Bibliotheken zum Volltext:
In: Journal of modern European history: Zeitschrift für moderne europäische Geschichte = Revue d'histoire européenne contemporaine, Band 21, Heft 1, S. 110-132
One route out of continental Europe for Jewish refugees seeking to escape Nazi and Vichy persecution was via Franco's Spain. Yet hundreds of these refugees were imprisoned soon after arriving in the country. From prison, men of military age tended to be sent to a detention camp for weeks, months or up to three years. This camp was known as the 'Campo de Concentración de Miranda de Ebro', and conditions in it were harsh. Why were Jewish men sent there? They were interned in the camp because senior Spanish officials created a series of policies that spelt out what officials and officers should do with different categories of foreigners who had entered the country without all the necessary documents. These policies did not target Jews. They were influenced by large population movements within France and from France into Spain; by the pro-Axis and pro-Allies leanings of senior officials; and by pressure that the British, American and German ambassadors in Madrid put on the Spanish government. Between September 1940 and January 1943, the policy determined that provincial governors were responsible for deciding what to do with newly arrived foreigners. Provincial governors' membership in the Falange, a Germanophile party, may have influenced their decisions. While interned in the camp, many Jewish refugees saw their visas to their final destinations and boat tickets out of Europe expire, and they endured hunger, illness, separation from their family and other conditions that were detrimental to their health.
Many oppressed groups use art as a weapon of struggle against repressive regimes. What effects might such art have? This paper focuses on solidarity art, a little-studied subset of resistance art, and suggests that it may help inform members of the public abroad about human rights violations, and raise economic and moral support for cells of resistance. Within the country under a repressive government, the spaces in which such art is made can provide a forum for the dissemination and discussion of information about the extent and nature of government abuses and other ills that accompany the regime.
Decision making about where to live is becoming a salient part of many couple's lives, with geographical mobility on the rise and increasing numbers of dual career couples. This article examines how couples decide where to live, using data from thirty-seven semi-structured interviews with individuals hi cross-national relationships, living in a city in the Western United States. The data reveal that emotions are important in decision making, that decision making tends to be on-going, and that there are numerous parties to the decision making process.
In Chile, not long after Pinochet stepped down, many shantytown women who had fought hard in the pro‐democracy movement felt very bitter. What explains this despondence, despite the positive outcome of their movement? This article addresses a question the social movement literature neglects: the question of how people feel when a movement ends. In doing so, it contributes to the literatures on movement decline and emotions in movements. I use ethnographic data from a year's fieldwork in Chile to suggest that at the end of a movement, even when it has succeeded in terms of achieving its goals, activists can feel disillusioned, disconnected, and abandoned.