The author points out that tribunals against war criminals are characterized by investigations of the broader military and social developments. By outlining the historical context of the violence the public is in a better position to make informed and balanced judgments. Criminal tribunals have a communicative character and great educational potential; they make clear why the Great Evil cannot be accepted and has to be punished.

The recent exhibition The Crime Was Almost Perfect in the Witte de With Center for Contemporary Art in Rotterdam, curated by Cristina Ricupero, focused on the dynamic relation between art (aesthetics) and crime (ethics). The review discusses the representations of crime in (some of) the exhibited art works and analyzes the ways in which the artists play with their (conflicting) meanings, ambivalences and ambiguities.

Life of a Hunter (c.1647) is an extraordinary painting by the young Dutch artist Paulus Potter. Its fourteen panels tell the tale of a well-heeled gentleman who likes to hunt and to kill “game” and “exotic” animals. The hunting world is turned upside down when the animals capture the hunter and put him on trial. He is condemned to death, roasted alive and doubtless consumed by the very creatures who had earlier been his quarry. In this essay we try to interpret Potter’s painting. Is it an allegory of the chaotic politics of the mid-17th century Dutch Republic? Does it represent an early modern animal trial? Our tentative conclusion is that Life of a Hunter expresses a Montaignian-inspired moment of transition in cultural attitudes towards human-animal relationships: its restricted vision of animal cruelty is not against animal cruelty tout court and its inversion of two links in the great chain of being is very far from being altogether pro-animal.

This paper explores the hypothesis that the process of rupture in Brazilian graffiti writer’s subculture resulting in different groups - pichadores, pixadores and grafiteiros - took place in two different, though complementary, stages. The first stage is the commodification of graffiti by successive media campaigns and its penal control by the state. The second stage - which may be considered as a side effect of the first one - consists of the emergence of a new transgressive pixação movement. Instead of merely writing or tagging their signatures and messages on the walls of the city, they claim the freedom of usage of the urban space and contest the importance that property has in the late modernity context.

In the introduction of the special issue of the Journal on Crime & Culture on ‘Resistance’, the editors focus on the theoretical history of the concept of resistance in the field of Criminology. Against the background of the Birmingham School and the themes and ideas of Critical Criminology, the authors argue that new issues are rebelled against, and new styles and rituals become en vogue. The street fighting man on the barricades is no longer the obvious icon, and resistance is not per se intergenerational, interclass or a confrontation between minorities and mainstream culture. Resistance may have epidemic proportions as the Arabic Spring. Movements like Occupy or WikiLeaks operate across borders, but resistance also includes subtle transgressions within organizations.

Subcultural theory and cultural criminology have traditionally viewed ‘underground’ youth movements as providing images of deviance/resistance which the cultural industries harvest to turn a profit. The logic follows that street and sub cultures imbue products with a ‘transgressive edge’ that increases their appeal within youth markets. This paper uses the example of UK ‘grime’ music to demonstrate how this dynamic cannot be viewed as applying universally in contemporary times. Where their street orientated content is censured, many grime artistes express a desire for commercial success which would ultimately emerge through muting their rhetorical links to crime and violence and explicitly championing ‘mainstream’ values. This case is used as an empirical cue to explore the use and critique of the concept of ‘resistance’ within cultural criminology and subcultural theory. The paper problematizes commodification of resistance discourses as they apply to the rugged culture of the streets and indeed its supposed ‘oppositional’ character where disadvantaged urban youth clearly embody and practice the logic of neoliberalism. It furthermore suggests that certain critiques of cultural criminology go too far in denying any meaning to criminality and subcultural practice beyond consumer desire. Ultimately, the concept of ‘defiance’ is suggested as a useful tool to understand the norms of and behaviours of the excluded.

The politization of the concept of genocide by Western states has been severely criticised, because it has led to an impunity for genocidal crimes. In certain instances however, such criticism has contributed to the dynamic of victimization, instead of resisting it. The article discusses how Professor Edward S. Herman and journalist David Peterson’s staunch criticism of the politics of genocide amounts to a brazen denial of the genocide against the Tutsi which recycles much of the extremist discourse of the former Rwandan authorities that were implicated in genocide. In this case Herman and Peterson’s resistance against the politics of genocide has profound implications, several of which the article will address.

This article provides a theoretical analysis of the label ‘resistance’. It sets out from the premise that the notion of resistance, although it has been current in criminology for some time, is still vaguely defined. We argue that resistance is not just a negative term, but can also be seen as a positive and creative force in society. As such, the primary function of resistance is to serve as a solvent of doxa, to continuously question obviousness and common sense. In the process of resistance we distinguish three processes: invention, imitation and transformation. The third stage warrants deeper investigation within cultural criminology.

La Haine (Kassovitz, 1995) shows practices of resistance of youngsters in public space. Next to the traditional milieus of socialisation – at home, at school or in institutionalised leisure facilities – youngsters demand their ‘place’ in public space. In doing so, they partly privatise public space (‘parochial space’). In this article we argue that transgressive behaviour of youngsters should be conceptualised as both a side-effect of growing up and socialisation, and as resistance against adult domination, especially in public space. As such, hanging around is cause and effect of control and criminalisation.

This article deals with three questions. What did resistance mean in the 1970s and what does it mean today? Have the rituals of resistance changed over time? What is the status today of moral panic theory? These questions directly refer to ‘Resistance Through Rituals’ (1976) and ‘Policing the Crisis’ (1978). For that reason, one of the authors answers these key questions in a contemporary framework of hegemony, security and neoliberal politics, and points to the continuing relevance of the political and critical tradition of British cultural studies.