Heroism presumes “humanity.” Black candidates for heroism in the United States, however, must often overcompensate for the presumed sub-humanity imposed upon them by the American popular imaginary. By way of an illustration, consider the instructive case of the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., who, arguably, attains the status of (Black) American Hero in spite of his Blackness. Through a unique account of the life of Dr. King, I will argue that King attains the requisite overcompensation necessary for (Black) American heroism by becoming what João Costa Vargas and Joy James call a Baldwinian Cyborg, a “super human with unnatural capacities to suffer and love.” I will present, here, a literary narrative that weaves speculative fiction into the interstices of the historical record in order to contend that the Black Cyborg is necessary in a world where white Americans are “human” but Black citizens remain aspirations.

This is a continuation of a lengthy article, the first half of which appeared in the previous issue of The Acorn, Vol, XV, No. 1, Winter-Spring 2014.

Those who accept a philosophy of non-violence akin to that advocated by Mahatma Gandhi commonly think of their stance as being in line with (if not actually called for) by the demands of love. It has not been hard for commentators to offer scenarios that present problems for this assumption. In what follows I will argue that such problems are overcome by Gandhi because he insists that the love required by nonviolence should be construed as universal, non-discriminating, and selfless in the widest sense—agape in its fullness. I will further show that problems presented for the view that Gandhian non-violence fits with and follows the demands of love exist for us, Gandhi holds, only in so far as we have not fully realized they type of love discussed here.

In this introduction to a special section on the philosophy of Bat-Ami Bar On, guest editor Court Lewis introduces Jennifer Kling’s article on equitable resettlement of refugees, Wim Laven’s article on meaningful political citizenship, and his own work on the analysis of the violent threat of citizen culture-warriors.

This article—a tribute to philosopher Bat-Ami Bar On—argues that states have obligations to not only resettle refugees, but also to put into place laws, policies, and procedures that are likely to ameliorate exclusionary attitudes and socio-political stances of existing members toward refugees and other forcibly displaced persons. The article begins with a recollection of Bar On, who encouraged the author to pursue the well-being of refugees as a worthy philosophical topic. The article then argues that refugee camps do not serve the purpose of justice; therefore, resettlement must be sought. Resettlement, in turn, raises several questions that egalitarians must take more seriously. In the end, equitable resettlement of refugees requires a broad based ethics of inclusivity and equality that bolsters community willingness to share spaces and “live and let live” in the face of cultural differences.

At the height of the Nazi Holocaust in 1942, children in an orphanage in the Warsaw Ghetto performed Rabindranath Tagore’s 1912 play Dak Ghar (The Post Office). They were in the care of Janusz Korczak, a socialist, pedia­trician, and one of the world’s first child rights advocates. The play centers on a young boy, Amal, who is confined in quarantine and on his death bed. This article attempts to understand why Korczak may have chosen Dak Ghar and how this play may have resonated in the Warsaw Ghetto, where he confronts two painful questions: is there anything worse than death? And, how to prepare children for death? This essay draws on Walter Benjamin’s concept of play, Han Jonas’s concept of eternity, Tagore’s expansive sense of humanity, and Korczak’s philosophy of child rights to argue the following: that in choosing a play from another time and place, Korczak empowers the children of the Warsaw orphanage to experience the radical unity of all humanity as inhabitants of this earth—and our arts as a way to transcend the boundaries of space and time. In consequence, the children may have tasted eternity through a play and memorialized in community that which would be denied by the Nazis—their deaths and, thus, their existence.

In tribute to the philosophy of Bat-Ami Bar On, this article draws upon her Arendtian analysis of fascism to explore recent dynamics of ethnic nationalism in the US. Whereas Bar On analyzed the problem of citizen-soldiers, this study extends analysis toward the citizen culture-soldier, suggesting that recent dynamics in the US are suggestive of a Cultural Revolution that threatens the inclusive practice of citizenship required of democracy. Bar On’s work motivates philosophers to not be lulled into acceptance of anti-democratic practices of citizenship. The values of respect, equality, and equity suggest that another form of citizenship should be practically pursued.

In this tribute to the life and work of philosopher Bat-Ami Bar On, I start by describing what daring to be good looks like. I present engagement with good and evil as a dilemma, one that I believe Bar On’s work overcomes. In the experience of evil in the world, people can make good decisions with incomplete information and uncertainty, or people can experience atrocity in bold relief and remain apathetic. We should understand the causes and motivations for both. I make suggestions about how we can bring these visions into the classroom with the critical, engaged pedagogies of Paolo Freire and David A. Kolb, concluding with a return to the idea of philosophy as political action. We are daring—courageous—when we endeavor to do good, especially when the outcome is uncertain and/or requires sacrifice. In the end, I summarize Bar On’s five-step method for confronting evil with meaningful political citizenship.

In this article, I put Judith Butler’s thought of nonviolence in dialogue with that of M. K. Gandhi to show how, for both thinkers, a defense of nonviolence must be grounded in interdependency and equality, which consequently entails a displacement of the individual self and its interests as the focus of ethics. Although Butler’s and Gandhi’s accounts of nonviolence differ in some important respects, both base their defense of nonviolence on a recognition of interdependency in opposition to Western individualism. This critique of individualism as an adequate ethical framework leads each author to question the concept of self-defense and to reject the preservation of individual life as the goal of ethical and political action.