The English novelist E. M. Forster once wrote that "if I had to choose between betraying my country and betraying my friend I hope I should have the guts to betray my country" (1972, 66). Forster's claim seems particularly provocative, given that it was written in 1939, on the eve of World War II, a time when accusations of treason could have deadly implications. Yet for Forster personal bonds of love and friendship were to take priority over the demands of state and nation. At a personal level, Forster's claim should almost certainly be read in terms of the criminalization of homosexuality in early twentieth-century Britain. It cannot be surprising if loyalty to lovers and confidantes overrides allegiance to a discriminatory legal regime. However, at the same time, Forster also recognized that the demands of one's country can be hard to resist. It is not clear if the courage he asks for is bravery in the face of the coercive power of the state or moral fortitude to make an ultimately difficult ethical decision. The tension among intimate personal relationships, the demands of states, and the hard moral choices that these produce are at the heart of this book. Traitors are rarely, if ever, simply venal or self-interested, and accusations of treachery are seldom self-evident. Rather, treason is a product of often contradictory social and political obligations. As Forster reminds us, we are never simply citizens or friends but always and necessarily both at the same time. As we try to negotiate our multiple allegiances, we must balance competing demands on our loyalty. In this context, any act of treachery can also be a potential act of loyalty to another cause. The guilt or innocence of traitors is, therefore, never clear-cut, as competing moral values make often-conflicting demands. Treachery is reproduced in the "gray zones" of political life, destabilizing the rigid moral binaries of victim and persecutor, friend and enemy. Despite or even because of the ethical ambiguity of treason, accusations of treachery often attract the most vehement, sometimes violent, condemnation. Treason was the last crime to attract the death penalty in the United Kingdom, and elsewhere is subject to the most brutal forms of punishment. The violence of accusations of treason can perhaps be explained by the fact that acts of treason seem to threaten and destabilize the fragile moral and social relationships that hold us together and bind us to the perhaps otherwise abstract notions of nation, people, or community. Furthermore, and perhaps most important, traitors arguably attract a particular aversion because they are not a distant "other" but the enemy within. They are a source of internal transgression, and as such, they call into question the moral and political commitments of those who seem to be closest to us. McCarthyism, Stalinist purges, and even medieval witch crazes did not focus on distant strangers but tried to root out internal subversion. In this context, accusations of treason try to define who is inside and who is out, laying claim to moral and political certainty in the face of uncertainty. Treason has often been treated as a pathology or a distortion of political life. Its importance has, therefore, been sidelined in social and political analysis. However, one of the central propositions of this volume is that, far from being pathological, the identification and prosecution of treason are constant, essential, and "normal" parts of the processes by which attempts are made to reproduce social and political order. Placing treason at the heart of our attempts to understand the ways in which political regimes are made and unmade helps us raise important questions about categories of belonging, about their moral, political, and economic foundations, and about the often contradictory choices faced by modern political subjects. The bond between the state and its citizens is never complete, as it is mediated by a host of contradictory affiliations to kin and social groups and can be overruled by wider ethical obligations. The specter of treason is thus embedded within notions of the loyal citizen. Citizenship is itself fraught with risk. The fidelity of even those who appear to have the greatest allegiance can never be assured. Betrayal is always a possibility.1 It is not just the stranger that is feared and suspected but also the seemingly faithful citizen. Therefore, political conflict should not be understood as just the marking of difference or the delineation of boundaries but as the product of a tension inherent in the state-citizen relationship. Both states and their citizen/ subjects are prone to the moral and social unease produced by fundamentally incomplete forms of loyalty and legitimacy. Antagonism is produced not only between the citizen and the one who appears to be different but among those who seem to be the same, those who, at first glance, seem to share the most intense sense of solidarity. Intimacy is not the antithesis of fear but can be at its core. In asking how traitors, both as an abstract category and as concrete persons, are reproduced in the context of local histories, contributors to this volume address larger theoretical questions about the nature of shifts in (postcolonial) citizenship. They explore how the historically specific dimensions of the relationship between citizens/subjects and those who speak in the name of the state create particular configurations of trust, suspicion, and belonging. As such, three key themes run through the volume. The first is the relationship between treason and the fragile nature of state-building processes. All modern states are built on betrayal, and continuing acts of treasons are central to their development. In a context where states depend on the multiple and often contradictory intimate relationships of kinship, ethnicity, and class to extend their reach, claims of treason help map the moral boundaries of the state and the people in whose name they speak. The second theme is the forms of suspicion and fear that are inherent in social and political relationships. We suggest that the possibility of betrayal is the everpresent dark side of intimacy, taking on new and ever more frightening forms in the context of state-building. The third and final theme is the ethical nature of treason. Acts of treason are produced through the contradictory loyalties and fears produced by rapid social change, creating particular configurations of accountability and responsibility. Copyright