In this article, we try to answer the question of how and why the stories of the victims of attacks by the guerrilla movements in the 1970s in Argentina are currently silenced in the public sphere. We analyse how this collective denial is negotiated in human rights discourse. In particular, we show how strategic and essentialist silences as well as denial (literal, interpretative, implicatory) feature in political debates about human rights and political violence.

The two editors of this issue conducted an interview with professor emeritus International law and Human Rights Theo van Boven. Van Boven was UN Special Rapporteur against Torture and he served as Director of Human Rights of the United Nations. In these and his other positions, Van Boven fought for the rights of victims of gross human rights violations and throughout his career he experienced first-hand how regimes try to cover up and deny their crimes. The interview focuses on his experiences with the former military junta in Argentina. Van Boven notes that in comparison to other regimes, the junta had developed the most sophisticated strategy of denial. Van Boven reflects on the regime’s vocabulary of denial, the political dimensions of denial and the implications for the victims. He is open and sincere about his experiences as Director of Human Rights of the United Nations and explains how victim rights, such as the right to truth, can clash with the bureaucratic and political reality within the United Nations.

After catastrophic events, memorialisation is part of coming to terms with the past and rebuilding the future. It is also part of the social construction of the past – a struggle between conflicting representations of past events by different groups in society, with different memories, interests and degrees of power to influence which version of history is eventually recognized as correct and which is denied. In Western Europe, we tend to study such processes in parts of the world far removed from our own, forgetting that the major genocide of the 20th century, took place in our own cities, and that a process of memorialisation was ongoing there for many years after the war. The Jewish quarter in the centre of Amsterdam has many monuments, buildings and museums connected to the history of the Jews of Amsterdam, the majority of whom died in the death camps of the Shoa. The memory landscape of the Jewish quarter is dynamic, a reflection of a culture of remembrance and denial concerning the Second World War, in which events and people are remembered, but others forgotten. What can the urban landscape of Amsterdam tell us about this culture and its relationship to social and political events during and after the war? What/who are remembered and what/who forgotten, by whom, and why? How has that changed over time?

IS propaganda is assumed to contribute to radicalization of Western Muslims. How IS propaganda reaches the hearts and minds of Western Muslims and consequently fuels radicalization is nonetheless an understudied topic. Through content analysis of all fifteen issues of IS-glossy Dabiq this article demonstrates how IS propaganda works in Dabiq. First, IS attunes in Dabiq to factors that foster radicalization according to the literature. IS does so by its discussion in Dabiq of injustice done to Muslims worldwide, the image of the Western enemy, and its positive presentation of the individual and group identity of IS fighters. Second, in Dabiq IS paves the way for embracing violent means, such as terrorist attacks on Western civilians through a discourse of ‘denial’.

In 2015, South-Korea and Japan came to a ‘final’ agreement concerning the ‘comfort women’ issue. This contribution reveals that this deal signals the next stage in a process of denial through which Japanese authorities have structurally denied the women’s’ victimhood. Taking a discourse analytical approach, the contribution investigates this historical process of denial and its implications. The analysis shows that denial takes several forms and performs different functions throughout the process. It demonstrates that denial is an interactional phenomenon, has different psychologies underlying it, and that it operates on different levels. Denial ultimately contributes to a state of continued victimization.

In the introductory article of this special issue on the language of denial, some relevant concepts in relation to denial, speech act and discourse theory are explored. Stanley Cohen’s distinction between literal, interpretative and implicatory denial is illuminated, as well as the contribution of various scholars on the performative function of language. At the end of the article the relevance of these concepts for (cultural) criminology is explained.

In this article the question is addressed how language played a pivotal role in the process of concealing and denying the use of doping in professional cycling in the period 1990-2012. The author concludes that the popular argument that the ‘Walls of Silence’ within professional cycling were based upon a system of ‘omertà’, is not convincing. Rather than that they were forced to keep their mouths shut, the people involved in the doping industry granted themselves a right to silence. The analysis also shows that the common vocabulary within cycling facilitated the processes of denial, as the concepts used – like preparation, recuperation, medical supervision and so on – are vague and ambiguous.

Superdiverse neighborhoods are understood as challenges; as potential ghetto’s in need for a better social mix. In this paper, ethnographic linguistic landscape analysis (ELLA) is used to study the effects of the public-private city renewal policies. ELLA not only enables a distributional image of ‘het Rabot’, a small neighborhood in the pheriphery of Ghent in Belgium, but also to sketch a stratigraphy. The ideology of social mix, in combination with the inter-urban competition for tourists and middle class inhabitants results in the hipsterification of the neighborhood. The net effect, is a disruptive influx of a creative class.

Many big cities in Europe have adopted the contours of superdiversity: in many districts, the original population has become just one of the many minorities. This new urban reality is often perceived as threatening. Immigration has become symbolic for the disturbance of community, the undermining of the national identity and a lost sense of feeling at home. Although the concept of superdiversity has controversial meanings, it also functions as an inspiring analytical concept that encourages further reflections on the value and potential implications of living together in cities of arrival. The concept also creates space for multifocal perspectives on socioeconomic, religious, transnational and political differences instead of reducing the urban reality to mere ethnic or cultural differences.

In this article we report on an ethnographic research project conducted in 2014-2015 at a school for ‘Assistant in Care and Wellbeing’, a school for secondary vocational training that is part of a large regional education center in the metropolitan area of the Randstad. The main incentive for our research was that some researchers assumed that in this ‘super-diverse’ environment, where students with an immigrant background were a vast majority, many tensions and conflicts were caused by ethnic and religious differences between students. However, after about 100 hours of observations in the classes of fourteen teachers, 36 interviews with teachers and other staff, and focus group discussions with teachers and students, we found that for most students diversity wasn’t a big issue at all. Rather than ethnic or religious differences many irritations and conflicts were triggered by the constantly changing organisational setting and institutional context of the school. In this article, we will corroborate this finding with a detailed analysis of some cases of classroom interaction, and draw conclusions about the usefulness and limits of superdiversity as a heuristic tool.

The main cities in the Netherlands and Belgium are becoming superdiverse majority-minority cities. This implies more than increasing diversity, but involves an increasing diversification of diversity and (contested) processes of normalization of diversity. The article explores the increase of temporary citizens and undocumented migrants as part of this transition. The rise of intra-EU-migration and transmigration contributes to an increase of temporary citizens. Using the case of Antwerp (Belgium), the article analyses the presence of undocumented migrants, using data of the collective regularization in Belgium in 2009, and of transmigrants, building upon an explorative research in Antwerp & Brussels in 2015.

Amsterdam and Rotterdam both have become majority-minority cities. Cities where all ethnic population groups, including that of Dutch descent, now form a minority. Most migration research focusses on the integration of a variety of migrant groups in the city. This article addresses the group forgotten in migration research: the people of Dutch descent. What does it mean for people of Dutch descent to be part of an ethnic group that is becoming increasingly smaller in the super-diverse neighborhoods of the city? Amsterdam is often regarded as the example of a ‘happy’ super-diverse city, while Rotterdam considered to be an ‘unhappy’ super-diverse city. Our research confirms that in Rotterdam people of Dutch descent draw brighter boundaries between themselves and people of other ethnic backgrounds than their peers in Amsterdam do. It is remarkable that the difference between Rotterdam and Amsterdam is especially evident among people in the middle and higher echelons of the labour market, and less so among the working class. What causes this difference? In both cities, we see that people from the creative sector and people working in law enforcing occupations like police, army and security are characterized by a stabile attitude towards ethnic diversity. The cities’ general climate seems to influence – both positively and negatively – mainly those in administrative, technical, financial and social professions, where we find less stable attitudes towards diversity.