It is no accident that the study of comparative politics, and especially thestudy of political development, has been dominated by scholars from themetropolitan countries, or by those trained in metropolitan universities.This interest in the politics of the subordinate world has resulted in aseries of case studies, which we have assumed have added substantially toour knowledge about these hitherto neglected areas. However, untilfairly recently, little attention has been paid to the underlying assumptionsand ideologies of these metropolitan scholars, and the distortions, consciousand unconscious, introduced into scholarship on these areas underthe guise of scientific and value-free methodologies.

Cities have led high civilization for so long that one can scarcely imagine one without the other. Yet it is not easy to delimit their place in the creation of values and the organizing power to implement them that constitute a developing civilization. They can be described in innumerable ways, for as is true also of small towns and villages each city has a unique personality. The existing literature leans either to extreme particularity of detail or to an unconvincing generality. The two articles that follow are the first of a series in which common general questions will be brought to bear on the rise of different types of city in different societies and on the conditions under which they play particular creative and organizing roles. Since three recent books have attempted large-scale comparison along these lines our own series had best open with an attempt to review their contributions.

This article analyzes the configuration of biology, anthropology, and history over the last generation by taking the sub-field of the “history of sexuality” as a case study. The history of sexuality developed at a particularly important site of engagement with neighboring disciplines. I argue that the concepts of nature and culture that came to prevail among historians of sexuality were deeply influenced by the debate between a particular strand of evolutionary biology, namely sociobiology, and its critics, who were committed to cultural hermeneutics. This debate encouraged a formulation of nature and culture which is effectively dualist and which remains present within the sub-field. By focusing the analysis on the study of ancient (classical Mediterranean) sexuality, I seek detailed insights into the reception of this debate within a specific domain of historical investigation, one whose stakes have been particularly high because of the intervention of Michel Foucault. The article closes by arguing that biologists and anthropologists in the last two decades have advanced the study of culture as a part of nature, and that historians have much to gain by engaging with more recent models. The institution of monogamy is highlighted as an emerging theme of investigation that can only be approached with the unified insights of history, anthropology, and biology.

This article discusses the changing relationship between Kurdish bandits and the Ottoman and Turkish states. Considerable research has been conducted on the impact of state formation on the establishment and maintenance of a monopoly of violence. But little is known about the state's use of outlaws for various security tasks. I address this hiatus and focus on the ebb and flow of Kurdish chieftains' relations to the state. Although these states followed consistent policies of disarmament and pacification, in periods of crisis, such as war, this changed as they tried to use the outlaws for their own purposes. I draw on previously untapped Ottoman and Western sources to portray the experience of one group of Kurdish tribal outlaws who found themselves at times diametrically opposed to the state, but in other times in accord with it.

During the last week of July, the people of the lower Luapula Valley in northern Zambia gather in the village of Mwansabombwe to celebrate their Lunda traditions and their paramount, Mwata Kazembe. For days prior to the main event, pubs serve bottled beer, much of it imported from nearby Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC), to quench the thirst of guests who have arrived in the hot, dusty village; women from different village sections deliver pots of millet beer to Mwata Kazembe's palace; and the youth organize special sports competitions and cultural events. Toward the weekend when the main festivities are to take place provincial, and on occasion national political and military dignitaries dressed in their suits and ties arrive. On Saturday afternoon, following the performance of certain rituals in the morning, chiefs, headmen, state dignitaries, and the villagers crowd together in a stadium on the outskirts of Mwansabombwe. A dignitary delivers a speech that highlights the importance of culture and tradition for progress, development, and national well-being. Listening to the national leadership's calls for the preservation of these traditions are chiefs and headman, who appear in the traditional Lunda garb of long imikonso skirts (sing. umukonso), leather inshipo belts and ututasa crowns (sing. akatasa). After the speeches, on the instruction of Mwata Kazembe, selected aristocrats and members of the royal family dance. The day's events culminate in Mwata Kazembe performing the Lunda dance of conquest, the Mutomboko.

The highest stage in the history of the labor movement came with the unionization of the Fordist-Taylorist factory system.The concept of the “Fordist-Taylorist factory system,” first developed in Antonio Gramsci, “Americanism and Fordism,” in Selections from the Prison Notebooks (New York: International Publishers, 1971), 277–318, was popularized in the 1970s by France's “regulation economists” (Boyer, Aglietta, Lipietz, Coriat). It refers to those mass-production metal-fabrication plants based on the assembly-line techniques devised by Henry Ford and managed according to the “scientific” principles worked out by Frederick Winslow Taylor. The U.S. auto industry of the 1920s and 1930s best exemplifies this form of production. Neither before nor since has labor achieved a comparable influence. In the United States and France, this stage was reached in the same period and through roughly similar means. In June 1936, a massive wave of factory occupations swept across the Paris metal industry, forcing employers to introduce one of the world's most progressive systems of industrial relations. Six months later, sit-in strikes in Flint, Michigan, defeated the open shop at the General Motors Corporation, opening the way to the subsequent unionization of America's mass-production sector. These two events, the dominant peaks in the history of the modern labor movement, have rarely been viewed in the same light, yet they were part of a unique set of circumstances affecting not merely the fate of unionism, but that of industrial society.Most accounts of the French and American occupations make reference to the other national case, but the only actual attempt to compare them is to be found in Sidney Fine, Sit-Down: The General Motors Strike of 1936–1937 (Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press, 1969), 125–8. Notwithstanding his definitive study of the Flint occupations, Fine's treatment of the Paris strikes, based on a few English language sources, examines only their general contours, not the structural and contingent factors linking them with the Flint movement. Cf. Val R. Lorwin, “Reflections on the History of the French and American Labor Movements,” The Journal of Economic History, 17 (March 1957).

In Society Must Be Defended, Michel Foucault characterizes the permanent, conflictual relationship that exists “between the two groups that constitute the social body and shape the State [as] in fact one of … permanent warfare” (2003: 88). Foucault argues that acknowledging that “race wars” constitute the substructure of the state enables a new conception of power, one that is simultaneously implicated in knowledge regarding the source of that power: re-conceptualizing the bases of power also demands a shift in knowledge practices. This problem (of power/knowledge) was administrative/managerial from the start: it constituted the conditions of possibility for the exercise of sovereign power, and was itself sovereign-like. “The administration allows the king to rule the country at will, and subject to no restrictions. And conversely, the administration rules the king thanks to the quality and nature of the knowledge it forces upon him” (ibid.: 128–29). Foucault asserts that historical knowledge is produced at precisely this juncture, as a form of counter-knowledge that is the outgrowth of a race war or class war, in which the nobility seek to defend society—their society—from new challengers, “the people,” for example, as well as from the sovereign himself. Thus, modern history germinated as a form of knowledge against absolutist sovereign power, but it was grafted onto the edifice of the state to buttress the sovereign's threatened legitimacy. Thus, “From 1760 onward we see the emergence of institutions that were roughly the equivalent of a ministry of history” (2003: 130 ff).

As a major socio-political doctrine in the industrializing West, Marxism has had great impact on die research and theory of political sociology and behavioral political science. Particularly, a great deal of research energy has been expended on establishing the nature and degree of the relationship between social class and political partisanship in Western democracies.

Brokers or middlemen have been called a key element in preindustrial economic development, facilitating the exchange of goods within the domestic economy and opening rural production systems to foreign markets. Though Chinese society historically boasted a vigorous brokerage system, many studies of Chinese brokers have viewed them as obstacles to the development of entrepreneurship and capitalist transformation. China's brokers were limited, it is argued, by larger structural constraints—the bonds of custom and community, a preindustrial mode of production, a particular form of state organization and ideology—that inhibited entrepreneurial activities. This view is best reflected in the writings of Marxist historians who claim that brokers in China's presocialist society were an integral part of a feudal system in which landlords and the state dominated the peasant/worker economy, preventing the flowering of the “capitalist sprouts” shooting forth from China's towns and villages.

During the first millenium A.D. a series of states were formed by Turkic and Mongol peoples, the nomadic pastoralists of the Asian steppes - the Tatars of European and Chinese record. These political enterprises enlarged their scope and power during the period of a millenium, reaching a climax in the empire of Chingis Khan in the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries; from this climactic achievement they have since declined. The social and political organization as well as the economy of these peoples are at once simple and complex, primitive and advanced. The characterization of this cultural world has been given focus in a sharp controversy, the controversy over the establishment and internal ordering of the political system.

In Italy during the Renaissance, an age that conjures up open systems of succession and ruthless dynastic struggle, the House of Este stood out for its singular succession practices. For almost one hundred and fifty years, illegitimately born Estense princes held office. Pope Pius II (r. 1458–64) marvelled:

It is an extraordinary thing about that family that within our fathers' memory no legitimate heir has ever inherited the principate; the sons of their mistresses have been so much more fortunate than those of their wives. It is a circumstance contrary not only to Christian custom but to the law of almost all nations.

The historian Ibn Khaldun (d. 1405), in his Muqaddimah (Introduction to history), explained historical change and the succession of dynasties as a function of the interactions between nomadic culture and urban civilization. His major contribution is usually considered to be his analysis of the correlation between ‘asabiyya, social cohesion or group feeling, and political power. He argued that the strong group feeling of tribal peoples enabled them to conquer urbanized regions and build regimes and civilizations, but that these conquests were undone by the tribes' gradual loss of ‘asabiyya in the urban setting, leading to new conquests by tribal peoples still strong in desert cohesiveness. Although power was the basis of rulership and royal authority was established through military might, the glue that held societies together was ‘asabiyya, based on kinship and religion and stronger in tribal than in urban society. Conquerors with strong group feeling could create greater and longer-lasting empires because they fielded larger armies and retained their own cultural dynamism for a longer time, and thus were able to defeat their rivals. Conquerors whose social cohesion was weak were soon overcome by the civilization of the conquered and gave way to a new conquering group. Strong group cohesion would also allow royal authority to pass to a second branch of the ruling family if the first was weakened, perpetuating its dominion. The ruler and his army were supported by the wealth of conquest, and returned the people's taxes in the form of gifts and public works. They would be successful only so long as they remained just; as the rulers' level of luxury increased so did their level of exploitation, and injustice soon produced division and “the ruin of civilization.”

Tehran, 1934. Introducing his newest book, Mental Diseases, Dr. Muhammad-עAli Tutiyā hits a raw nerve. Iran's capital is abuzz with news about עAli Asghar Borujerdi. Earlier on that year, the man soon dubbed Asghar Qātel (the murderer) confessed to having had sexual intercourse and subsequently killed thirty-three adolescent boys. Born in 1893 in the Western Iranian town of Borujerd, at the age of eight he left with his mother and siblings for Karbalā, Iraq. Six years later, he moved on to Baghdad, and began to sexually abuse adolescents. Eventually, he began to murder them, according to his initial testimony in order to trick the police that were observing him. In 1933, after having taken twenty-five lives, he only escaped Baghdad and arrest by the skin of his teeth. Arriving in Tehran, he worked as porter and vegetable-seller, and took up residence in Bāgh-e Ferdous, a neighborhood in Tehran's poor popular south. He carried on with his deeds, killing eight boys, most of them homeless vagrants. The first bodies, heads severed, were found on 31 December 1933. Borujerdi was arrested once and released for lack of evidence, but in early March of 1934, the police detained him again, and this time he confessed. He was tried, convicted, and, after an unsuccessful appeal, was hung in front of an immense crowd in Tehran's Sepah Square on 26 June.

Of Edward Said's many passions, Joseph Conrad was among the most persistent. That a Polish-English writer of nineteenth-century colonial fiction should be the hero of the author of Orientalism might challenge those, among both Said's friends and enemies, who misread his work as a condemnation of major Western writers and thinkers who shared their period's Eurocentric prejudice. Said fully recognized Conrad's “uncompromising Eurocentric vision,” yet discovered in it, perhaps paradoxically, a “felt tension between what is intolerably there and a symmetrical compulsion to escape from it.” With the passage of time, what speaks to us is not Conrad's prejudices, but the way his texts “brush up unstintingly against historical constraints.”

I unpack the “potter's field” as an everyday practice and a category, especially as it operates in the material treatment of bodies as a mirror of life. I examine this space of “worthlessness” as it exists in liberal capitalism. From the potter's fields of São Paulo, Brazil, I consider how these are, in fact, mundane mass graves, made politically useful as a means to obscure important bodies alongside those who are, today, the subjects of terror. I then ask how the rise of the uncertified potter's field—a burial field for disposable bodies, not made legal by the state—is inseparable from recent historical and contemporary conditions of political abandonment. The uncertified field is made easy by a politics of abandonment, and becomes useful to state institutions as a material invocation of responsibility, interred elsewhere, while nonetheless advancing a larger logic of governance and political will in our times.

The history of Islamic law in Russian Central Asia defies many of the categorizations offered by both global and Russian imperial history. Recent studies of law in the age of colonialism have concluded that the attainment of legal hegemony in the colonies was consequent upon the initiative of indigenes that strategically manipulated jurisdictions; as colonial subjects increasingly involved the state in their private conflicts, they effectively pushed their masters to consolidate the institutional arrangements through which the state dispensed justice. Historians of the Russian Empire have reached a diametrically different conclusion: under tsarist rule, they argue, Muslims continued to access the services of the “native courts,” which remained mostly untouched following Russia's southeastward expansion. As the empire promoted a policy of differentiated jurisprudence, Russians effectively safeguarded the integrity of Islamic law. I argue that both of the aforementioned approaches are confined to the level of institutional history, and thus fail to consider that the creation of colonial hegemony rested on ways in which colonial subjects understood law and viewed themselves as legal subjects. I show that Russians, from the outset of their rule in Central Asia, initiated Muslims into colonial forms of legality by overcoming the jurisdictional separation they had themselves put in place. In allowing the local population to file their grievances with the military bureaucracy, the Russians effectively pushed Central Asians to reify colonial notions of justice, and thereby distance themselves from the tradition of Islamic legal practices.

This paper is intended merely to frame certain hypotheses and present some comparisons and contrasts which may stimulate discussion.

Gilbert Durand, the theorist of the imaginary, is fond of saying that the study of human beings is “like being in a room and watching yourself go by in the street:” what is said of the object is always applicable to the subject. That is why the discourse of academic disciplines concerned with humans is peculiarly vulnerable. If you produce a theory of the imaginary, like Gilbert Durand, that theory will also be applicable to the discourse which produces it, immediately relativizing the theory as an imaginary product. If you study a culture or group of cultures having the character of the “Oriental,” your study, as Edward Said's book points out, is itself open to analysis as a manifestation of “Western” culture. A book which indicates, as his does, that “Western” representations of the East (beginning with the notion of the East itself) have purposes which relate to purely Western needs and projects can be seen in its turn as a representation of Orientalism having purposes of its own, such as the furtherance of Arab politial causes. A review which points these things out is itself asking to be reviewed in terms of its own representations and purposes. And so on.

Sexual division has been an obvious and enduring characteristic of wage work, much studied on both sides of the Atlantic. Gender roles, household forms, and community welfare have been made and remade by changing access to paid work. The theoretical literature on gender segregation in the labour force is rich, but economists and feminist theorists have been interested in sexual divisions as general features of the economic or sex/gender system rather than as boundaries between tasks forged in defined contexts by particular clashes of interest. Whether in specifying the social groups that benefited by gender division, the systematic relationships that generated the boundaries, or the traits upon which lines of partition were drawn, most analysts have dealt with gender division as a characteristic of the work force as a whole.