Two major earthquakes ‘which shook the world’, that of Lisbon of 1755 and that of Aceh/Sumatra of 2004, are compared. Both were catastrophic earthquakes with nearly identical magnitude M≈9 and accompanying destructive tsunamis. They are paradigms for Low Probability Extreme Events (LPEEs) and for the reaction of the societies in which they occurred, although 250 years apart. Modern seismology developed from its birth as disaster management following the Lisbon quake to a mature science, which however, still remains under the obligation to improve its role in enhancing society's preparedness for such catastrophes. The catastrophe of hurricane Katrina, which was predicted, showed that the realm of societal responsibility extends beyond that of scientific technical competence.

It is a popular view that international war crimes tribunals are a tool for social transformation and reconciliation after conflicts. According to advocates, one of their strengths in this regard is the individual punishment of criminals, which is said to achieve justice for victims while avoiding the collectivization of guilt. This is also said to have the effect of endorsing the transformation of the nation by freeing it from the burden of collective guilt while detaching those responsible for war crimes from the society concerned and eliminating their political influence. Does individual criminal punishment achieve these? And is the de-collectivization of guilt through international trials desirable for post-conflict social transformation and reconciliation? This article addresses these questions by focusing on the impact of the Tokyo International Military Tribunal, which is analyzed through the ways in which it has been perceived in post-war Japan. It argues that the Tribunal's punishment of wartime leaders produced an ambiguous effect on the Japanese people's sense of war guilt and responsibility, which in turn became an obstacle for the nation to achieve reconciliation not only with its former victims but also with its own past. The article questions the assumption that international criminal justice can promote social transformation and reconciliation.

Contemporary Dutch reactions to the Great Lisbon Earthquake of 1755 mostly followed the general European pattern, explaining the event from a philosophical and theological stance. Still, the one Dutch poet to write extensively on the disaster gave a peculiarly Dutch twist to his interpretation. In essence, he used the Lisbon disaster to vent his views on the Dutch Republic's position at the middle of the eighteenth century, and to urge it to reclaim its rightful place in the scheme of things of what we in the meantime have come to call modernity. Some two centuries later, a major Dutch modernist poet again fastened upon the Lisbon earthquake to define himself in relation to that same modernity. However, he did so in a sense opposite to that of his eighteenth-century predecessor.

This article explores the literature on intergenerational relationships within psychological and sociological disciplines. After a brief description of the different meanings of the term ‘generation’, two theoretical perspectives are discussed: Mannheim's theory of generations and Bengston and colleagues' theory of intergenerational solidarity. Particular attention is given to the process of intergenerational transmission. This is followed by a rereading of the concept of generation in light of the relational–intergenerational perspective. This perspective attempts to consider together family and social generations, taken to be interdependent. The application of this perspective to the transition to adulthood is crucial to an understanding of intergenerational dynamics, whether in the family or in the community. It concludes with reflections on the meaning of the intergenerational transmission as seen from the relational-intergenerational perspective and recent research findings.

In contrast to other previous and later disasters the Lisbon earthquake was more than a local disaster that changed the life of the Portuguese population and later became subject to the merciless oblivion of history. This cataclysm left lasting traces in European science, social life, religion and philosophy. The material effects were rapidly felt all over Europe, also affecting the economy and the whole conception of how humans should think and act in a world where such events occurred. This paper follows the change in Immanuel Kant's philosophy after the earthquake based on the thesis that this event contributed fundamentally to the formation of Kant's mature philosophy and its paradigmatic status in European thought until the present day.

The damage to human life, property, and infrastructure by natural disasters has been growing exponentially for the past 40 years. The driving force of this development is the increase in exposure and vulnerability of human society to the impacts of disasters. On the other hand, significant local, regional and global capacities for disaster reduction have been built since the beginning of the UN International Decade for Natural Disaster Reduction in 1990. It remains unclear how the race between mitigation efforts and expanding disaster potential will develop in the coming years. This is a report on the risk potential of megacities and the strategies to reduce such risk, drawing on the experience of 8 years work in the Earthquakes and Megacities Initiative (www.earthquakesandmegacities.org/). The crucial role of science in this process will be discussed.

A preoccupation with hybridity is natural in a period like ours marked by increasingly frequent and intense cultural encounters. Globalization encourages hybridization. However we react to it, the globalizing trend is impossible to miss, from curry and chips – recently voted the favourite dish in Britain – to Thai saunas, Zen Judaism, Nigerian Kung Fu or ‘Bollywood’ films. The process is particularly obvious in the domain of music, in the case of such hybrid forms and genres as jazz, reggae, salsa or, more recently, Afro-Celtic rock. New technology (including, appropriately enough, the ‘mixer’), has obviously facilitated this kind of hybridization.

It is no wonder then that a group of theorists of hybridity have made their appearance, themselves often of double or mixed cultural identity. Homi Bhabha for instance, is an Indian who has taught in England and is now in the USA. Stuart Hall, who was born in Jamaica of mixed parentage, has lived most of his life in England and describes himself as ‘a mongrel culturally, the absolute cultural hybrid’. Ien Ang describes herself as ‘an ethnic Chinese, Indonesian-born and European-educated academic who now lives and works in Australia’. The late Edward Said was a Palestinian who grew up in Egypt, taught in the USA and described himself as ‘out of place’ wherever he was located.

The work of these and other theorists has attracted growing interest in a number of disciplines, from anthropology to literature, from geography to art history, and from musicology to religious studies. In this issue, the contributions discuss Africa, Japan and the Americas as well as Europe and range from the 16th century to the 21st, from religion to architecture and from clothing to the cinema.

Predictions of the legacies of the ad hoc International Criminal Tribunals reflect far greater expectations for the impact of justice than earlier historical war crimes prosecutions. The most ambitious of these is the promise of peace and reconciliation. Its formal inclusion in the Security Council's mandate for the International Criminal Tribunal for Rwanda converged with a modern discourse on war crimes prosecutions that infuses the ideals of Nuremberg with the revolutionary aspirations of the human rights movement in a new world order. Contemporary trends invest international justice with powerful assumptions about its capacity to transform post-conflict societies, as is reflected in the Tribunal's own presentation of its role for the future of Rwanda. Alongside the general assumptions regarding the political powers of international justice, are contesting perspectives that make specific allegations of the effects of its failings. Neither rigorously address causality, highlighting the absence of empirical research on international prosecutions and their impact on national communities. It is argued that ambitious expectations have generated ambiguous-and unrealistic- benchmarks for effectively assessing the record of a nascent international justice system. Viable benchmarks are necessary to ground external expectations, and to strengthen and focus institutional performance. To achieve this, expectations should adjust to the modest realities of delivering international justice.

This Focus addresses the relationship between historians and the societies they serve, particularly since the later nineteenth century when, for the first time, historians began to define themselves as a distinct professional group. One of the conclusions that emerges from the four case studies pursued here is that the independence of judgement which professionalism implies, founders the moment it is perceived by a wider public that historians are no longer providing them with the moral guidance they expect from those who have studied their pasts. It is also shown that the challenges and responses did not prove identical in any two sets of circumstances. This introduction also makes reference to general challenges to which individual contributors do not necessarily refer, but which have impacted on the work and independence of all historians.

Historians, both now and in the past, have been aware that what they write is, of necessity, influenced by their personal circumstances as also by their political and social preferences. Perhaps out of recognition of this, some writers of history in all centuries, and possibly from every culture, have celebrated their ability to shape policy in the present by citing experiences from past times. Then, in the nineteenth century, as governments in the west established Public Record Offices, National Archives and National Libraries, it came to be accepted in that part of the world that historians were professionals who, having undertaken a prescribed course of training, were uniquely equipped to assess how politicians and diplomats in the past had conducted their business.

On 11 March 2006 the former Serbian leader Slobodan Milosevic was found dead in his prison cell in The Hague, where the case against him at the International Criminal Tribunal for former Yugoslavia (ICTY) was nearing its end. Many people voiced their disappointment about the fact that Milosevic would never receive his verdict. Although this disillusionment is understandable, Milosevic's death also saved the prosecutors and the Tribunal from delivering a judgment that would probably have contributed little to reconciliation in former Yugoslavia. This was particularly so in relation to that part of the indictment that concerned Milosevic's alleged responsibility for the massacre by the Bosnian Serb army of 7500 Bosnian Muslim men and boys following the fall of Srebrenica in July 2005.

This article argues that European vernaculars were in closer contact with one another and with languages spoken outside Europe in the 16th and 17th centuries than they had been in the Middle Ages, when Latin dominated written communication. Increased contact led to borrowing, mixing and hybridization, some of it highly self-conscious (as in the case of ‘macaronic’ poetry and drama). Mixing in turn led to a ‘purist’ reaction, first in the case of Latin and then in the case of vernaculars such as Italian, French, German, Dutch and even – to a lesser extent – English.

This article looks at the history of European culture from three angles, those of European uniqueness, European variety and European consciousness. The first section discusses the question of whether the fundamental unit of study, for cultural as well as economic historians, is not Eurasia. The second section is concerned with cultural divisions within Europe, with Europes in the plural. It asks whether it is more illuminating to distinguish two Europes (like Leopold von Ranke), or three (like Jenő Szűcs), or even five (like Hugo Hassinger), and examine both centripetal and centrifugal forces in early modern history. The final section deals with the history of the idea of Europe, or more exactly with the rise of consciousness of being European, as it is revealed in early modern histories, geographies, journals and newspapers.

The process of European integration, the complexity of the problems involved and even the resistance it raises, astonishes observers in other parts of the world, especially in large states that have a long history of centralized government behind them. Is there really so little unity in Europe? If so, how can this be explained? Has European diversity generated only problems or has it, in fact, created new and unique opportunities? Is there a chance that growing concerns at EU-level about the cultural dimensions of European citizenship could, in fact, consolidate a sense of community? And, finally, how can historians contribute to the creation of a common European identity, if this is so weakly developed?

Starting from an analysis of the recent film The Matrix, and emphasizing its millenarian and messianic components, the article goes on to consider the importance of millenarian and messianic movements in the Old World (especially Spain and Portugal) and the New world (especially Mexico, Peru and Brazil) in the 16th century, noting Tommaso Campanella's expectation of an imminent world monarchy. The conclusion is that these movements offered a privileged space for different religions to interact and to mix.

The principle that perpetrators of atrocity should be brought to justice before courts of criminal law enjoys near total acceptance. However, because of the nature of the transgressions adjudicated, the major trials of perpetrators have also served a didactic and moral function in redefining and re-imposing rule-based legality. As a consequence, these trials address history and memory in the course of trying the accused. This essay examines three particular filters that affect the way the memory and history of the events concerned enter the trial process: first, the nature of the evidence admitted; second, the substantive incriminations directed at the accused; and third, the principle of criminal accountability deployed by the prosecution. The essay also considers how the timing and place of the trial influence its didactic value. Ultimately, the didactic and moral effectiveness of such trials is beyond the control of the courts and can only be evaluated over the longer term.

Post-war German historiography is an interesting example of changing norms and the problem of satisfying a balance between explanation and (moral) judgement. Whereas national historians of Imperial Germany could feel in harmony with History, defeat and the peace of Versailles destroyed the belief in historical justice, so the bulk of the craft sympathized with Hitler's policy, although not always with his methods. The fall of the Third Reich and the revelation of its crimes caused a deep crisis of historical consciousness and attempts to deny or belittle personal responsibility and cooperation. After the 1960s however, a generation took over who could internalize the democratic norms and, through that, closed the gap between German and Western historiography. With the next generation after the reunification, critical revisionism of the national past even increased in so far as it included the first wave of post-war historiography with its apologetic tendencies. Historiography so became a striking example of a thorough national metamorphosis.

Since the Enlightenment, the history of science has been enlisted to show the unity and distinctiveness of Europe. This paper, written on the occasion of the award of the 2005 Erasmus Prize to historians of science Simon Schaffer and Steven Shapin, traces the intertwined narratives of the history of science and European modernity from the 18th century to the present. Whether understood as triumph or tragedy (and there have been eloquent proponents of both views), the Scientific Revolution has been portrayed as Europe's decisive break with tradition – the first such break in world history and the model for all subsequent epics of modernization in other cultures. The paper concludes with reflections on how a new history of science, exemplified in the work of Shapin and Schaffer, may transform the self-image of Europe and conceptions of truth itself.

Any definition of Central Europe based on geographical and/or historical facts causes difficulties. The line dividing Europe during the Cold War has a very limited use because it does not take into account Central Europe as a special part of the continent. Historians such as Geoffrey Barraclough, Hugh Seton-Watson and Oskar Halecki discussed the idea of a separate identity of Central Europe during the Cold War. Especially after the fall of the Berlin Wall, this discussion was re-opened. From a historian's point of view, the most important contributions came from Piotr Wandycz and Jenő Szűcs. An imaginary centre of Europe can only be found in the continent's common history.

There is a belief, rather widespread in English-speaking countries, that the eastern half of Europe is inhabited by a number of endlessly quarrelling small nations whose conflicts keep endangering the quiet and comfort of Anglophones. (Hugh Seton-Watson)

The whole field of historical writing concerned with imperialism and the expansion of Europe has always been suffused with moral judgement. Many earlier historians of empire extolled European intervention in other societies as a force for moral, political or intellectual improvement. Yet, from the beginning, radicals castigated empires as immoral, bringers of racism, genocide and underdevelopment. Asian and African intellectuals, in turn, constructed historical narratives that made the liberated nation the bearer of moral progress in history. This paper argues that historians cannot, and should not refrain from moral judgement on particular issues, such as the excesses of slave trade or the official neglect that allowed the famine in British Bengal in 1943 to kill three million people. They should, however, avoid creating grand historical narratives that describe long-term changes, such as the growth of European empires, as moral or immoral, as progressive or wholly pernicious. This approach merely reduces complex developments to simple formulae and can sometimes be misused by contemporary politicians and ideologues.

Taking its starting point from the distinction between axial and non-axial civilization, the article focuses on the peculiar aspects of the Japanese process of modernization, which has its roots in a historical experience in which the notions of hybridity and crossing were unsuitable. In fact, what we see in Japan is not the encounter and mixture of different and heterogeneous aspects, although there is hardly anything original or pure in it. There is a sort of Japanese uniqueness, that cannot be found in a specific content, but in a general attitude that consists of a sort of deconstruction of any type of content. This process enables one thing to be put next to another without leading to conflict, even if originally the two may have been antithetical. Therefore, juxtaposition is the notion that best explains the type of procedure employed by the Japanese when they deal with something that does not come from their culture.