100 Books Like The Coloniality of Humanitarian Intervention

This book was one of the first books I read on queer International Relations (IR) during my PhD, and it convinced me – quite effortlessly – that queer IR was the intellectual home for me.

Weber articulates a vision of queer IR that does not aim to define what "queer IR" is. But I can’t help but think her contributions in the book – which foreground gender, sex, and sexuality, and the plural ways the international hinges on logics of normal/perverse – did that for me anyway. 

I love this book’s attention to the various analytical functions that queer can bring to IR: from the deconstructive methodology Weber cultivates, to the scrutinising of the simultaneously gendered, sexual, and racialised construction of the normal and/or perverse queer subject.

This book taught me about the necessity of doing queer research that not only challenges cisheteronormativity, but also colonialism and coloniality as well.

Rao’s book is a masterclass in transnational and transtemporal storytelling, narrating plural stories of the (post)colonial politics of queerness, gender, and sexuality. I was especially gripped by his chapter tracing the colonial spectres of atonement that underpin the British government’s apologies for anti-sodomy laws, which resonates with a broader homocolonial discourse Western countries have used to denounce former colonised countries as backward and queerphobic. 

Queer IR can and should attend to these imperial histories and afterlives, and how they are underpinned by and uphold particular gendered and sexual norms. This book shows how global politics is a story about (post)coloniality and queerness.

I was privileged to read this book as chair of a book prize committee, a book which we shortlisted given its fantastic contribution to queer IR and conflict research.

Hagen, Ritholtz, and Delatolla have brought together a diverse collection of chapters that “tell the stories of LGBTIQ+ people in conflict not only as victims of political violence, but also as experts and agents of change." 

I particularly enjoyed the chapters on the visual as queer method (Cooper-Cunningham) and queering the politics of knowledge in conflict research (Serrano-Amaya).

What a gift to read this carefully curated collection that not only spotlights queer lives in conflict but also amplifies the voices of queer scholars from diverse backgrounds who contributed to this important book.

This was one of the first academic books I read that centred LGBTQ people as agents and actors of global politics, and to be fair, it’s probably one of the first within IR to do so.

As someone who first learnt about queer theory from the philosophical, abstract, and (let’s be honest) sometimes dense verbosity of poststructural queer thinkers, picking up Lavinas Picq and Thiel’s collection brought queer lives, in all their diversity, plurality, and embodiment, back into the picture.

Some of my favourite chapters include those on Pride events in the Amazon and the exploration of Indigenous experiences of queerness (Lavinas Picq), and the intersections of Muslim sexualities, modernity, and (neo-)colonialism (Rahman).

This book paved the way for more queer research, challenging the disciplinary confines of IR. 

The relationship between intelligence and policy and how various countries employ intelligence organizations are two important topics that are not fully explored. Wagner’s book looks at the role played by British intelligence in Palestine during the interwar period---a role that went beyond what many consider intelligence functions. As Wagner explains, British intelligence not only informed policymakers’ thinking but was also involved in the execution of policy in the Palestinian territory during this period. This combined, no better yet intertwined, history of British policy and intelligence during this important period is something that intelligence and regional scholars should read. 

As The Guardian’s Moscow correspondent, Muggeridge exposed Stalin’s man-made famine in 1933; in the 1940s, he became one of Orwell’s closest friends. In between the two, he conducted this caustic post mortem on a catastrophic decade. Some of it still feels timely, like his observation that a cultural obsession with information perversely incentivises the manipulation and fabrication of data. All of it is deliciously quotable: he compares the human rights activists who whitewashed Stalinism to “vegetarians undertaking a pious pilgrimage to a slaughterhouse because it displayed a notice recommending nut-cutlets.”

This is another book (or better, a trilogy) that made me laugh and cry. If you don’t believe me, just read Winston Churchill’s stirring love letters to his wife—he called her “Cat,” she called him “Pug”—in the first volume. They are a deeply moving and eloquent testimony to a devotion that continued unabated throughout Churchill’s life.

No wonder he was the only head of state awarded the Nobel Prize, not for peace, but for literature. And William Manchester writes so powerfully that he rivals Churchill’s prose. If you want to know what made Churchill tick and how he became one of the transcendent leaders of our time, read this book. 

World historical and comparative work on empire is on the rise and what they demonstrate is as a particular type of politics, empires exhibit certain patterns. That is the contention of Julian Go’s comparative work on the US and the UK. 

These are cases that have been compared before but instead of comparing them contemporaneously, Go makes a point of comparing them along their ‘hegemonial arc’ of rise and decline. 

Go demonstrates through comparison with Britain that a racial politics of differentiation and incorporation in the Westward expansion of the original 13 colonies is a common imperial pattern. This claim is corroborated by other cases as demonstrated by the works of Kumar and Burbank and Cooper. 

When read in combination with Immewahr and Kumar, Julian Go’s book shows what was typical empire building in American westward expansion (such as the racialized politics of differentiation and tutelary governance) and atypical and… show more.

Louis’s excellent, and now classic work, should play a far larger role in discussions of the meanings of imperialism and anti-imperialism than has been the case in recent years. Drawing on a deep grasp of British foreign policy and domestic politics, Louis examines what he calls the “grand strategy of non-intervention and conciliation” that leaned heavily towards the existing Arab regimes. Prime Minister Clement Attlee, and especially Foreign Minister Ernest Bevin, and other leading officials in the British Foreign Office and Colonial Office, believed that a Jewish state in Palestine would antagonize the Arabs and lead to a decline in British influence in the Middle East. Louis draws attention to Richard Crossman and other British critics of the policy of preserving Britain’s imperial role in Palestine. It is one of those indispensable works of scholarship regarding these events.

Written from a standpoint outside of Britain yet offering such great insight, this book offers a highly convincing account of the stupidity of Brexit. The author pours his wrath onto Brexit and Brexiteers and is a brilliant polemicist. It’s well-written and entertaining.

What I like about this book is that, unlike a lot of academic writing, it doesn't pull any punches and the author is rhetorically committed to a single perspective that he adheres to with great consistency.