There is something obscure about the nature of toleration, at least when it is regarded as an attitude or a personal principle. Indeed, the problem about the nature of toleration is severe enough for us to raise the question whether, in a strict sense, it is possible at all. Perhaps, rather, it contains some contradiction or paradox which means that practices of toleration, when they exist, must rest on something other than the attitude of toleration as that has been classically described by liberal theory.

Displayed on school walls during holidays, attached to floats and triumphal arches in processions, emblems played a part in all public events organized by the Jesuits in the 17th century. These verbal-iconographic compositions, which were used to illustrate the principal themes of the ceremony, were not a mere period detail or an ornamental device but constituted a means of expression which, by virtue of the particular relations governing the association of text and image, mobilized complex rhetorical, moral, and spiritual elements simultaneously. By associating an image - seen as the “body” - with a textual element (inscriptio et subscriptio) - the “soul” - the emblem-maker sought to achieve a unity of meaning in which the two forms of communication complemented each other: it is precisely the way in which the two elements are connected, and the laws that regulate their composition, that constitutes the foundation of the language of the emblem. This language, which is used in a corresponding manner in a variety of other symbolic compositions (devices, hieroglyphs, symbols, coats of arms, medals, etc.), is based on the rhetorical operations of the metaphor, applied here as a model both for the word, with its mimetic properties, and for figurative codes. However, the metaphor, as a product of human ingenuity, is not only situated at the crossroads of a system of thought crystallized in a great number of inventions, but also bears witness to an ornamental aesthetic, typical of the 17th century's aristocratic culture and social rituals. While there does exist a vast bibliography of materials on the function and role of metaphor in Baroque culture, questions nevertheless remain about the numerous cultural practices to which the Baroque gave rise and the particular processes that the 17th century brought into play. My intention here is not to resolve all such questions but rather to provide an analytical framework by focusing my observations on emblematic compositions produced in the scholastic milieu of the Society of Jesus.

Inhabitants of a land that their ancient myths proclaimed to be the creation of divinities, the Japanese have peopled their archipelago with numerous earth gods: giants trees, simple pebbles concealed either in an oratory, a corner of a garden or deep inside a thicket; crossroads stoneposts, steles in the middle of a plot or next to a rice field, tombstones, and rocks that are worshipped on home altars. The imposing presence of these divine proprietors of the provinces and of sites that were once urban settlements, villages, or private residences is still visible in the tall buildings of Tokyo and Osaka. These protean spirits, found on roof tops in the form of stone foxes or redwood porticos, bear witness, even in the heart of the city, to a latent belief: the forces of the earth are still at work in the world, keeping watch over human activities. Although there are very few people left who believe, as the ancients stories tell, that the citizens of Japan are descendants of the gods of the earth and sky, there nevertheless remain many who accept the notion that a single telluric energy inhabits the world of the living, the dead, things, and the gods.

There is no shortage of analyses, even of mutually exclusive ones, concerning the identities of the East Germans. Social scientists as well as journalists find enticing the phenomenon of a society that is in the midst of a transformation; a society that experiences the (national) unification between a part of society that is revolutionary with another part that is geographically separate and non-revolutionary while undergoing a process of social blending. This examination is accompanied by constant exhortations from the politicians - who, as if appealing to themselves, have the task of representing German unity in nationally conceived institutions - to surmount the mental trenches that have arisen. This article tries to discuss some aspects of the processes of identification that are either unfolding in East Germany or are failing to materialize. In this connection we are concerned with interpretations of social and political transformations on the part of the individual, but also with the “impositions of the Western paradigm,” both of which generate norms of behavior and language through which the East Germans must find their own language when describing their situation.

We are in Florence and Ferrara, between 1300 and 1600 A.D. At the beginning of this period the subjects of petty Italian potentates dream of a universal Empire and Church: a universal confined to the Latin world. Over the next three centuries this dream gradually fades; the idea of a universal Church is largely replaced by a discourse addressed to the individual conscience while in the political world sovereignty becomes synonymous with local power. The universal is progressively dissolved within a multiplicity of separate regimes, each rooted in its own territory; in other words, individual societies achieve spiritual legitimation by a transfer of sovereignty. Thus linked with the absolute, territorial sovereignty, rehabilitating the idea of the local, becomes the foundation of the many-sided flowering of the Renaissance. A reading of the poets is helpful in grasping the full complexity of this historical transformation. How were Dante, Petrarch and those poets who imitated the poets of Antiquity, the so-called Petrarchists, understood? This study will focus on the way in which the texts were created. By comparing them we will try to elucidate what makes for the importance and urgency of these poems.

Since the time of the Renaissance, it has been believed in the West that Greco-Roman Civilization developed solely between Athens, Rome and Paris. In so doing, we forget the detour that Greek culture took into Muslim culture over a period of several centuries, and the influence of this culture on Muslim philosophy and science. This assumption also fails to take note of Muslim influence on Europe, in which Andalusia and Sicily acted as intermediaries. In order accurately to trace the spread of knowledge from Greece we must follow a path leading from Athens to Baghdad and Cordoba before reaching Paris. If we omit this historical reality, we underestimate the role played by Eastern Christians and Jews in the transmission of Greek knowledge to Islam, and from Islam to the West.

With a total population of approximately one and a half million people, the Hani tribes are comprised of some twenty subgroups (the Lopi, Goxo, Zalo, Yiche, Akha, etc.), each of which possesses its own distinct identity and speaks one of the Tibeto-Burman languages. Most of this population is centered between the middle courses of the Red and Mekong rivers of China; smaller groups can be found inhabiting areas bordering on Vietnam, Burma, Laos, and Thailand. The Hani are a farming people who live in densely packed, hillside villages. Their primary crop is rice, which they grow on irrigated terraces located between eight hundred and eighteen hundred meters above sea level. The focus of this paper will be on one of the soil gods of the Hani people of the Red river area. Studying this god, who is accorded a central role in the religious liturgy of the Hani, we will see how the appropriation of a natural space and the exploitation of its resources depend directly on the cult relation maintained with him.

The human animal feels fear: the ancient tranquil hordes, inhabitants of infinite plains where time stood still, have dissolved into a swarming, formless mass rushing into the future as if into the void: without a plan, without a leader, without roots; perhaps the only thing that guides it is the vague feeling of being a body whose limbs can not survive if separated.

Tolerance cannot not be concerned with the law, once it takes up in its concept the relationship between truth and justice. And there are several reasons for this. To begin with, the word right enters into many definitions of tolerance: the right to difference, to liberty, to those fundamental public freedoms that constitute human rights. Moreover, law, as opposed to morality, is the public instance where obligation is coupled with legitimate coercion. Finally, juridical institutions offer an excellent vantage point from which to observe the transformations of the idea of tolerance and scan the history of the struggles carried out in its name.

The Brou people, whom we shall be discussing here, belong to the ancient Austro-Asiatic stock of the Indochinese peninsula. They are spread out on either side of the border separating Vietnam and Laos and settled in particular to the north of Route Nine, which joins Savannakhet (Laos) to Dong Ha (the Vietnamese provinces of Quang Binh and Quang Tri), with their area of the greatest concentration being the district of Huyen Huong Hoa (Khe Sanh) where we studied them.

Ecumenicism is a synthesis of syncretism and universalism. It combines, in fact, the religious totalization of syncretism with the human totalization of universalism, using syncretism to correct what might be unilateral in the universal religion, and using universalism to complete what might be particularistic in syncretism.

Is the perfection of a being a result of its perfectibility, that is to say its imperfection? Is the greatness of a human being a function of how much he is a man in the making? Can the human being elude all determination in order to construct itself freely or, at the very least, expose itself to an infinite number of potential destinies? This dream of absolute freedom was at times the humanists’ dream. The following paper will try to show that behind the Renaissance philosophy of existence lay the principles of incompletion and transformation; that these principles were the source both of the power of Renaissance philosophy and also of its irresolution, which is what places it on the threshold of modernity.

On my first visit to England, nearly twenty years ago, I experienced a poignant moment of realization, understanding finally why Europeans called Japan a “Far Eastern country,” for it was then that I first saw a Europe-centered world map: Japan really was a small fringe of islands off at the far right edge of the map, in the “Far Eastern” region, from a European point of view.

The meanings of tolerance nowadays form a complex and ambiguous maze that far exceeds the scope of this essay. To clarify the following pages, however, we propose a preliminary distinction between original tolerance and modern tolerance.

The detective fiction of the tradition initiated by Poe and Conan Doyle and continued by Agatha Christie, Dorothy Sayers, Rex Stout and others proposes the unquestioning acceptance of cognitive rationality as a virtually-infallible tool for problem solving and as an instrument of knowledge. In the Holmes narratives, linear reasoning, based on observation grounded in the assumption that phenomena can be “read” in terms of a direct correlation between visual detail and connotative or denotative meanings, is presented as the only true path towards knowledge and understanding. Thus, the narratives implicitly discard the critical and autonomous rationality proposed by Kant. Through their dogmatic insistence on a particular analytical method, they advocate a monist rationality which is repressive and alienated from the reader, in that s/he is not required to be a critical participant, but remains a passive admiring onlooker.

The history of the idea of tolerance is marked by a rift between its original meaning and its modern one. At first tolerance was understood as the effort made to put up with certain reprehensible acts or lapses with regard to society's values, since rules can never be respected at all times without life becoming unbearable. Conceived originally as a discretion on the part of authority, it progressively acquired the meaning of a “right to differ.” “The idea that a free space must obligatorily be assured to each member of the community,” writes Ghislain Waterlot, “is a relatively new idea that is fundamentally very modern.”

Public international law is entirely a product of consensualism. The State, which is both the legislator and subject of the world juridical order, only agrees to comply with exterior norms to the extent that it approves of their content. Any treaty, in its contractual nature; any custom, in its consensual nature; any decision of an international organization, in its ability to be en forced, expresses the agreement of the concerned States, whether on a case by case or global basis. National sovereignty is in this way safeguarded. Nothing can be imposed on those who govern without their consent. Indeed, until the middle of the twentieth century, States had succeeded in juridically protecting their free will; or more precisely, their free willfulness. International law required no behavioral norms, and no obligation of tolerance, in regard to a State's own nationals.

Tolerance has its arguments, both in morality and in law. It also has its sources, not only in the sense of the origins from which it springs, but also in the sense of that which actuates it and gives it life, that which encourages it and sanctions it - profoundly. Religions take part of these sources, but also take part of this reflexive aspect of ethics that puts into play the final legitimation, the ultimate justification of the norms of our public and private actions. It is with respect to this recourse to the ultimate that religion and ethics intersect without becoming one. Yet it is also in this recourse to the ultimate that one and the other greatly face the danger of temptation. This is particularly the case with religion. It is indeed not enough to simply say that it is the political use of religion that is to blame, and not religion as such, in the long and unfinished history of religious intolerance. We must trace the source of the temptation of intolerance to the very heart of the certainty of religious faith. Any belief, as soon as it defines itself in relation - a relation of any kind, whether of distance or proximity, of alterity or fusion - to an absolute, must be on guard against its own penchant for intolerance. It is not enough, in an opposite sense of the preceding warning, to rely on the critical resources borrowed from sources outside of religion: it is at that same heart of certainty of all religious faith that we must seek the reason for the conviction that it is unjust to look to impose on adherents of other religions, on agnostics and atheists, the truth as it is admitted in good faith by the community of believers of one or another religious confession.