The cultural shift that France experienced after the First World War has commonly been analysed through the prism of attitudes towards Germany, and the continuation of wartime prejudices in the immediate post-war period. Yet, an exploration of imaginings of future relations with a wartime ally reveals a broad spectrum of assumptions and expectations that span the transition from war to peace. Taking as its focus the prospect of a tunnel under the English Channel, this article situates thinking about France’s future within cultures of nationalism and ideas about international connection. It uses a collection of answers to a 1919 exam question which asked what might be the likely consequences of a Channel tunnel, and analyses the themes that emerged as the candidates picked and chose from a variety of different national symbols and images. In so doing, they offered a vision of a tunnel that was rooted in the past and in wartime experiences, but that equally represented a means to strengthen and sustain the Franco-British partnership that would be key to France’s future. Read alongside government and lobby group records, their essays afford a glimpse into grassroots imaginings of both the French nation and the new international order after 1919.

Royals abound in global history. Kings were served at court by domestic, administrative, and military elites who connected the centre to the provinces. Contemporary observers as well as modern historians have often stressed the contrast between oriental despots and limited monarchs in the West, downplaying structural resemblances. This article moves beyond clichés commonly ascribed to East and West, and asks to what extent social practices of court life were shared across early modern Eurasia. Then it reviews the profound changes in European court life during the long eighteenth century. Can parallel reform movements be found in other parts of Eurasia? Finally, it moves from comparisons to connections, by tracing fundamental shifts in the relationships between European royals and royals across the globe from the sixteenth century to the nineteenth. This longue durée examination questions common views about European exceptionalism and corrects persistent clichés about rising middle classes and declining nobilities.

This article offers a spatial examination of entrepreneurial philanthropy at Cromford, Quarry Bank, and Saltaire mills during the industrial revolution. It argues that entrepreneurial philanthropy at these mills, with its new social relations, was influenced by both market competition and philanthropy, to the extent that active welfare provision was dependent on profitable enterprise and creation of wealth. It demonstrates that the extent and nature of philanthropy intended, implemented, and experienced at each of these entrepreneurial projects was determined by site-specific factors with unique effects in space and time. The article builds on existing research into the socially transformative impact of the industrial revolution by developing the concept of philanthropic space to enable a fresh assessment of the relationship between capital and welfare. It suggests that, within these communities, the development of philanthropic space addressed some of the causes and effects of discontent of the working classes associated with the ‘condition-of-England question’. In particular, the discipline of education became an increasingly important component of both enhanced philanthropic development by owners and the experience of workers, offering opportunities for self-improvement. At the same time, discipline and control were ostensibly paradoxical within, yet established and essential features of, philanthropic space.

This article explores how the experiences of colonial modernity were constituted through global advertising by examining the transnational marketing of Hazeline Snow in early twentieth-century India and China. Manufactured by London-based pharmaceutical company Burroughs Wellcome Company (BWC), Hazeline Snow was a globally circulated medical-cosmetic commodity that showcased the advance of colonial modernity in Asia in the early twentieth century. Focusing on the convergences and divergences in the textual and visual representations of gender, beauty, and race in Chinese and Indian Hazeline Snow advertisements, this article illustrates the uneven ways in which capitalism created, disseminated, and adapted to different knowledge systems in distinct colonial contexts. It argues that modern beauty ideals promoted by cosmetics advertising were not simply the diffusion of a hegemonic Western modernity driven by the symbiotic expansion of capitalism and colonialism, but were shaped by the entanglement of global transformations and local conditions, including pre-colonial aesthetic value systems, inter-Asia exchanges, and competition from both local and other colonial actors. As ‘Snows’ became a specific kind of Asian commodity in their own right, the meanings of being modern and being beautiful was no longer the preserve of a specific company or a generalized ‘West’.

This article explores sumptuary legislation and its enforcement in early modern Genoa. Whereas the sumptuary laws from other early modern Italian city-states partitioned society by social rank, profession, or citizenship, the laws in effect in late sixteenth-century Genoa divided the population only into men and women. Genoa therefore represents a key site for exploring gender difference through dress and adornment. Adopting a gendered, sociological, and material culture framework, this article demonstrates how sumptuary laws informed understandings of gender and gendered practices of dressing. It takes as its point of departure a ledger of sumptuary denouncements for the year 1594, and examines how Genoa’s citizens adhered to, or transgressed the gendered expectations set out by the city’s legislative structures. It argues that while prescriptions for idealized masculine and feminine comportment coloured the content and wording of the law, in daily life a spectrum of gendered identities could be enacted through clothing. This article thus advances discourse on the impact of sumptuary laws on understandings of gender in early modern Italy, and the ways in which masculine and feminine identifications were negotiated through and in dialogue with clothing.

Fifty years ago, the infamous bank robbery and ensuing hostage crisis that took place in a Stockholm bank gave rise to the so-called ‘Stockholm syndrome’. Though never recognized as a valid medical diagnosis, the (allegedly) pathological relationship between kidnapper and hostage has become an omnipresent media phenomenon that inspires movies and television series to this day. However, this forced bond was not always seen as problematic. The years between 1860 and 1910 witnessed the rise of kidnappings in the Mediterranean world (Southern Italy, Greece, the Ottoman Balkan region, and Morocco) involving English, American, and European hostages. Today, we know about these incidents from autobiographical narratives by the former captives. They painted a surprisingly favourable picture of their captors – and found enthusiastic audiences for their stories. Looking at the interplay of feelings, coercion, and empowerment, the article opens up a new perspective on the history of emotions that brings both victims and perpetrators into the picture.

Monarchy is one of the oldest truly global social structures. On the eve of the imperial age, most of the world was governed by monarchs. But as the European empires expanded, this order was radically transformed. During the long nineteenth century, most non-European monarchies were conquered by imperial powers. Often, European imperial powers abolished them, imprisoning, killing, or exiling local rulers; in other cases, the imperial powers incorporated the conquered monarchies into new imperial orders of indirect rule. Yet, there were some monarchies that survived Europe’s imperial expansion. In fact, every country that retained its independence in the era of high imperialism was ruled by a monarch: Ethiopia, China, Japan, the Ottoman empire, Persia (Iran), and Siam (Thailand). To some extent, these monarchs lived in the same social worlds as their European counterparts, forming a global, status-based community. This article offers some observations on the relationship between the world’s monarchs in the age of empire by focusing on encounters between European monarchs and those of the few non-European countries that retained their independence.

This article draws on childcare advice to investigate the shift from breastfeeding by the clock to feeding on demand in twentieth-century Britain and Italy, to demonstrate that it was not just mothers’ bodies, nor what they fed their children, but their time that was subject to political, medical, and cultural attention. The comparative approach highlights the convergences and divergences in breastfeeding advice, illuminating the interactions with political and intellectual currents, as much as social and economic patterns. ‘Scientific motherhood’ and the promotion of feeding by the clock dominated in Britain and Italy at the beginning of the century, and persisted under fascist initiatives to regulate breastfeeding. Some existing differences, however, contained the seeds of greater divergence after 1945 in the two countries. Shaped by differing intersections of medical, psychoanalytic, and feminist thinking, the uneven shift to the concept of demand feeding slowly took root in Britain in the post-war period, but in Italy only in the context of 1968 counter-cultural ideas. The 1970s brought the conversation back to a point of convergence between Britain and Italy in the feminist recognition of the complexities of balancing the ‘rights and duties’ of mothers and children when it came to feeding babies.

In recent decades, historians have acknowledged the role that women played in shaping and disseminating scientific knowledge during the Enlightenment. Current scholarship also suggests that fashion was a means through which haptic, economic, and practical knowledge was shared among women. This article focuses on one particular fashion accessory – the artificial flower – to explore its contribution to our understanding of women’s knowledge of botany in eighteenth-century France. An analysis of the receipts preserved in the credit records of France’s most famous fashion merchant, Marie-Jeanne (Rose) Bertin (1747–1813), demonstrates high levels of specificity in the flowers that women chose to adorn their outfits. Seventy-five different types of flowers are mentioned using their vernacular names, suggesting that knowledge about a wide variety of flowers was exchanged between fashion merchants and their clients during conversations about clothing. This article therefore casts the fashion merchant’s shop as a site of botanical knowledge generation and exchange.

This article takes the example of the Tana-Beles project – a scheme sponsored by Italy to respond to the 1980s famine in Ethiopia – to demonstrate that postimperial international relief policies and practices were woven into the very fabric of the colonial past. Postcolonial humanitarianism emerges as the transformation of colonial practices and relationships into new policies, which did not depend on the interests only of former metropoles, but also of the new independent states and on the agenda of international organizations. Furthermore, this article contends that private companies had a prominent role in shaping postcolonial humanitarianism because they could benefit from both the favourable policies of donor countries and the relationships they established in the long run with the authorities of recipient countries. Finally, the history of the Tana-Beles project enables us to re-read the international response to the Ethiopian famine within a larger timeframe. On the one hand, this appears to be rooted in the previous colonial period, on the other it embraces the years thereafter when the schemes, relationships, and strategies set in motion during the famine were developed further.

The caudillo strongman remains emblematic of Latin American authoritarianism, but scholarship has seldom reflected on the semantic shifts that this concept suffered over time and its implications for the history of political thought. Numerous political experiments have been marginalized from historical and state-building narratives as the irrelevant work of caudillos, such as the short-lived Rio Grandense Republic in southern Brazil (1836–45). By explaining the Rio Grandense caudillos’ engagement with constitutionalism, this article argues that ‘caudillo’ can be a useful category of analysis if historically contextualized. The article thus reconsiders the history of political thought and state-building in Latin America and beyond in the age of revolutions, suggesting the serious need to scrutinize ‘failed’ states and revolutions. This argument is pursued in three steps. First, the article describes shifting understandings and usages of ‘caudillo’ in nineteenth-century Brazil and neighbouring River Plate states. Second, it analyses the Rio Grandense Republic’s 1842–3 constituent assembly and the novel electoral procedures it employed. Third, it examines the never-promulgated constitutional draft produced by its assemblymen. This constitutional draft is then compared to contemporary River Plate and Brazilian constitutions and its rejection is explained through the assemblymen’s divergent understandings of constitutionalism and democracy.

Global trade is a topic that is well suited for conceptualizing global social history as it allows the opportunity to challenge the notion that global markets were primarily congruent with imperial territories. Businessmen were regularly able to establish economic networks that transgressed state borders and challenged imperial aims for territorial control. This may be evidence for the fact that capitalism and imperialism were two different, although sometimes converging, spatial structures, each with a distinct logic of its own. Even in the colonial period, and despite the prevalence of imperial racism, co-operation between metropolitan capitalists and businessmen from peripheries was possible – and, in fact, the rule rather than the exception. This co-operation was facilitated by similar business practices and a similar mercantile culture, which is why the two constituencies have been described as joint members of a globally connected bourgeoisie in several studies. The ability of economic elites to establish transregional business structures is highly relevant for conceiving global social history as a distinct approach. It reveals that the activities of these actors were crucial for establishing global capitalism, and allows scholars to examine the embeddedness of mercantile elites in their socio-economic environment and in particular to study the relation between capital and labour.

This article argues that the late colonial government of Hong Kong shaped and reconstructed Chinese performances and festivities to secure public support, creating Chinese culture that was sui generis and historically produced. The disturbances of the 1960s prompted local officials to improve state–society communication and legitimize their rule. They utilized Hong Kong people's identification with Chinese culture to formulate their policies. Focusing on the Festival of Hong Kong, carnivals, Chinese opera shows, and the Hong Kong Chinese Orchestra, this article shows that colonial administrators adopted policies that targeted people across generations and communities. They sought to cultivate a sense of belonging to Hong Kong by engaging both the older and younger generations in these cultural activities. Late colonialism became intertwined with notions of Chineseness in Hong Kong. Unlike colonial officials in other former British territories, those in Hong Kong went beyond British culture and focused on cultural elements that the people preferred. This cultural perspective, which has been underexplored, shows that late colonialism in Hong Kong not only made the colony's decolonization differ from other cases but also created diversified Chinese culture that was independent of the mainland China's and Taiwan's political discourses.

The intricacies of modern compensation procedures that value human life, injury, and property are often overlooked, despite growing demands for reparations and justice following state violence. This article historicizes the legal structures of modern compensation, arguing that the advent of imperial rule was characterized not only by the extraction of material resources and labour, but also by the discriminatory construction and implementation of imperial law, which sought to protect European life, wealth, and property. By focusing on one of the most notorious episodes of violence in British imperial and modern South Asian history – the atrocities committed by British officials in Punjab (1919), including the Jallianwalla Bagh massacre – this article underscores how British officials penalized protests and freedom struggles by legalizing indemnities, taxes, and fines to compensate European families. In contrast, colonial officials grossly undervalued the claims and payments of Indian subjects killed or maimed during state violence, if they did at all. Furthermore, this article reveals how imperial state compensation, managed in relative privacy and buried in legal proceduralism, was rooted in legal structures of intersectional racialized inequality, and political concerns that valued the longevity of imperialism, rather than a meaningful gesture of justice and redress.

Over the past two decades, historians have become increasingly fascinated by the question of what enabled the emergence of a stable model of democracy in post-war Western Europe, characterized by the persistence of pre-war elites and top-down forms of decision-making. This article reveals the importance of the British occupations during and after the Second World War in fostering this model of democracy. It does so by comparing and weaving together British occupation strategies in Germany and Italy between 1943 and 1949. Based on a novel examination of archival sources, it demonstrates that British ruling strategies influenced the form of democracy that emerged in these two states. As such, the article reveals the centrality of ‘indirect rule’ practices and their multifaceted impact. Building on imperial precedents, the occupations were primarily run through pre-existing local elites who commanded authority and influence amongst the population. The article argues that this choice explains why the British produced, first, functioning occupation regimes and, subsequently, contributed to the emergence of remarkably stable democracies. At the same time, however, this ruling strategy aided the creation of political regimes that were elite-led and that strongly limited popular participation, leaving many democratic aspirations unfulfilled.

It is commonly stated that China has 5,000 years of continuous history. It is a claim repeated in textbooks, mini-dramas, and tourist sites across the People’s Republic of China (PRC, also commonly referred to as ‘China’). It formed the narrative foundation for the opening ceremony of the 2008 Beijing Olympics. It is also a ubiquitous claim internationally, recited by global political leaders, in foreign media, and in children’s books. Ironically, it even serves as the tag line for the highly political and anti-communist global dance show ‘Shen Yun’, its posters promising a celebration of ‘5,000 years of civilization reborn’.1 This millennia-long history, often short-handed as ‘Yao-to-Mao’ – the Yao referring to Emperor Yao, one of five founding Chinese rulers who is said to have lived in the third millennium BC, the Mao referring to Mao Zedong, the founder of the PRC – is a story of civilizational continuity in which a politically and culturally unified ‘China’ maintains its fundamental cohesion despite a range of challengers, invasions, and upheavals.2

In 1881, Patrick Ford, the Irish-American nationalist editor of the New York Irish newspaper The Irish World and American Industrial Liberator, published The criminal history of the British empire, a collection of five letters that he had written to William Gladstone. In The criminal history, Ford constructed a comprehensive account of British imperial history, beginning with England’s conquest of Ireland, before detailing the colonization of North America, Britain’s participation in the transatlantic slave trade, the American Revolution, British rule in India, the opium wars, and Britain’s contemporary colonization of Africa. This article contributes to scholarship on American views of the British empire in the post-bellum United States. In exploring how Ford constructed a Manichean interpretation of world history, where the British imperial project devastated every region it invaded, the article analyses Ford’s reasons for writing and publishing the letters that formed The criminal history. Finally, the article shows that Ford’s central purpose was to foster a visceral hatred of the British empire among his Irish-American readership, to maintain a commitment to their ethnic heritage as proud Irish people, and to encourage his readers that a better future would soon arrive, when the British empire was finally a relic of the past.

Historians have long argued that science was fashioned as a bourgeois, Western cultural practice by the late nineteenth century, in ways that allowed its practitioners to exclude or distance themselves – through a rhetoric of endeavour, utilitarianism, and progress – from the more useless, ‘frivolous’ learning of aristocrats, women, or, indeed, native ‘informants’ in the colonies. This article examines the case of scholars from outside northern Europe and North America – Japanese literati, creole intellectuals, and Lebanese scholars – who managed to participate in the period’s Western scientific networks as peers. It holds that these men were able to establish epistemic credibility not because their lower rung in a political and racial hierarchy was ever irrelevant, but because their status as upper-middle-class professionals and their bourgeois habitus – their ‘civility’, and ‘manners’ – in some measure made up for it. The article reveals, rather than forthright ‘exclusion’ and ‘silencing’ of non-Europeans, complex epistemic hierarchies and geographies of knowledge. It exposes the mechanisms of epistemic inclusion and its limits in the period: the functioning of an academic community that was – in many, rather significant ways – also a social world.