Description: Most revolutions don’t start with nineteen cardboard hexagons, but Klaus Teuber’s game about settling a hexagonal island quietly revolutionized boardgaming. Catan’s commercial success selling over 40 million copies certainly catalyzed a modern boardgaming boom. More importantly, its playful experiments set a new tone for game design. By making its cutthroat gameplay feel peaceful and pastoral, Catan helped a fledgling eurogame tradition forge its distinctive style and was heralded by Wired for “changing the American idea of what a board game can be.” Although peaceful revolutions are usually the best kind, it’s worth questioning how these games cultivate peaceful feelings. Today, peaceful-feeling eurogames often settle into detached design—a mindset of making conflict feel peaceful by dampening conflicted feelings. Unsettling Catan questions how peaceful-feeling eurogames can make implicitly imperialist themes palatable by cultivating a detached mindset that imagines power as peaceful, neutral, and abstract. To ask the hard questions that eurogames often look away from, the book walks through each aspect of Catan’s gameplay (placing hexes, rolling the dice, robbing and trading, collecting resources, building and scoring) to explore how simple design decisions can play out, or play with, cultural ideas and ideals. As the first entry in the Tabletop Games book series, Unsettling Catan introduces key concepts for thinking about board games as a medium and offers accessible game analyses and personal reflections to help players, creators, and scholars reimagine what board games can be and become.


Abstract: In settler states, police are used to establish and maintain colonial order, suppress Indigenous resistance, and secure state authority. Today, Indigenous people experience disproportionate rates of police contact that emerged during colonisation. Yet, mainstream scholarship on legitimacy has largely ignored Indigenous perspectives on policing, the wider context of settler colonialism, and questions of self-determination. This article focuses on police legitimacy and Indigenous self-determination in Australia, with implications for other settler states. I argue that Indigenous selfdetermination cannot be achieved without legitimate forms of social control. Building on the theorising of Beetham (1991) and Bottoms and Tankebe (2012), this article suggests that decolonised legitimacy dialogues are necessary to understand how Indigenous peoples conceptualise legitimate policing. A decolonised dialogue acknowledges policing’s colonial origins and its ongoing role in settler societies, the Western philosophies underlying legitimacy theory, and the need to centre Indigenous self-determination. I propose that “police” legitimacy can be enhanced via two pathways: (1) through reforms within state structures and/or (2) through Indigenous-generated alternatives (e.g., night patrols). This dual strategy considers the importance of both community-informed and evidence-based practices in policing to reduce harm while striving, ultimately, for as little (state) policing as possible. Here, I argue for epistemological consilience: the integration of Indigenous and Western knowledge systems.



Abstract: Palestinian exile in Ghassan Kanafani’s fiction deeply reshapes the relationships connecting individuals to home, memory, and historical existence. While existing scholarship has largely emphasized political nationalism, trauma, and structural settler-colonial violence, the ethical dimensions and processes of cultural sacralization sustained within disrupted domestic spaces remain underexplored, particularly in relation to how secular resistance narratives resonate within religious readerships. This article examines how home, memory, and return are represented in Returning to Haifa through an integrated framework of settler-colonial studies and the religious humanities. Employing qualitative textual analysis and close reading of both the Arabic original and its English translation, the study focuses on narrative structure, spatial description, and intergenerational dialogue. The analysis shows that home functions not merely as a domestic setting but as a culturally sacralized space where moral attachments endure against colonial erasure. Memory emerges as a form of ethical witnessing, while the transformation of Khaldun into Dov exposes the intimate violence of intergenerational rupture. This study contributes to religious literary studies by demonstrating how Kanafani’s secular narrative undergoes religious re-signification within contemporary Muslim horizons of expectation, demonstrating how such a moral reframing is enacted by specific communities of reading through shared ethical imaginaries of dignity (al-karamah) and historical continuity.



Abstract: It seems that Palestine has found a convenient spot in the cloud, as a complex, yet seemingly cohesive, digital nation comes into being. The growing possibilities of online connectivity through social media, search engines, and streaming services, along with the newly designed features of online articulation (posting, sharing, commenting, reacting, and so forth), are intensifying the idea of a single people, a single heritage, and a single national destiny. This article presents the concept of digital Palestinian nationalism as a critical prism for examining how online political activism in support of Palestine reveals the multiple, somewhat conflicting, layers of present Palestinian temporality. My contention is that digital Palestinian nationalism operates in an algorithmic present that significantly intensifies the historical temporality of national imagination but is simultaneously in conflict with various ongoing temporalities of Palestinian displacement. Deeply entangled in the sociometer of user engagement, algorithmic processes amplify deep national sentiments among Palestinians everywhere in reaction to footage of Israeli violence in the occupied West Bank and the besieged Gaza Strip (since 7 October 2023) within a constant frame of “real-time” and “right-time.” However, in buttressing national sentiments, this algorithmic presentness hinders attempts to imagine differently so that the Palestinian story might branch out to comprehend the multiple ongoing political and cultural developments of Palestinian experience in the various contexts of displacement in Israel-Palestine and the world at large.





Excerpt: In Concord, Massachusetts, a few years ago, I attended a two-week summer residency on the topic of Thoreau and social reform in the American Renaissance. On the final day, we discussed “Native American Rights in Antebellum America.” At the very start of the event, one of the event’s panelists, Linda Coombs, an historian and educator of the Wampanoag Tribe of Aquinnah, began with a question: “What Native American rights?” The mostly White audience stiffened. Coombs laughed. “What rights, really?” She offered this like it was the punch line everyone had long known was coming. “It just doesn’t compute,” she said. It was clear that Linda Coombs was unimpressed with and disinterested in both Henry Thoreau’s person and work. She dismissed Thoreau with turns of phrases that were startling, even sacrilegious, to many in the room – in “The Concord Colonial Inn,” which Thoreau’s family once owned, and where a young Thoreau roomed while studying at Harvard – and where, for the last weeks, many of us, myself included, had worshipped at and swum in his and Transcendentalism’s shrines. Coombs, on the other hand, referred to him as a settler and mocked his fame for spending years on Indigenous land. She also asked why it was only on our final day that we focused on Indigeneity in North America. These and other inquiries exacted a certain speechlessness – a general liberal confusion, at a conference about reform, in good liberal Massachusetts – that became utterly pervasive, palpable, indeed, in this windowless room in Thoreau’s literal basement.