Urban historians are much concerned with the need to study their towns from the perspective of social class and socio-spatial segregation, especially in periods of rapid industrialization. The models of such scholars as Engels, Sjöberg, Burgess, Hoyt and others are predicated on the possibility of identifying clearly the members of defined social classes. The manuscript census enumerators' books (CEBs) are one of the basic sources used for Victorian Britain (1841–81), but it is no simple matter to attribute the occupational descriptions found in them to a range of social classes. Problems occur at two levels: those associated with the conceptual validity of systems of class distinction, and those encountered in attributing occupations within such systems. As this article shows, there is also a degree of interaction between the two levels since it is useless to pursue concepts that cannot be systematically and straightforwardly related to the information available.

Urban policy in Japan gained greater significance in the late 1960s. In 1968, a new City Planning Law was enacted, and urban policy was a prominent issue in that year's House of Councillors election. Scholars have regarded the ruling conservative party's fear of a threat to its hegemony as the primary force driving this increased attention to urban policy. This article examines the political factors surrounding the reforms enacted, concluding that politicians actually underestimated the degree of public interest in urban policy and made largely empty political gestures to appease urban dwellers while responding more readily to agricultural interests.

This paper analyses connections between culture and architecture, and between political ideology and capital planning in a region of China. It poses two crucial questions: first, what were the contrasting architectural expressions between imperial palaces in Shenyang? Second, what were the underlying planning concepts of Shenyang, and what urban design models were used to realize that concept? This study shows that the development of Manchurian architecture and planning had been a result of cultural confluence and political governance.

Eastern Europe has recently received much attention from scholars irrespective of diverse focus and specialization, and the special section of this distinguished journal is yet another proof that the region remains an extraordinarily interesting place for research and analysis. Scholarly interests have, however, often been related to the emergence, establishment and eventual demise of state socialism in this heterogeneous place, the horrors of World War II and the profound transformations that swept through its many old-new countries during recent decades. The predominance of political, social and intellectual history, as well as sociology and political science, and scholarly interpretations of the condition of modernity in Eastern Europe come therefore as little surprise. This methodological apparatus at hand, significant aspects of the region's development during the nineteenth and twentieth centuries have sometimes been overlooked, while others appeared teleological. Within the traditions of both Western and Eastern European academia, the region has until recently been perceived as having followed a very distinct, special path to modernity characterized in a variety of ways as arrested development, Sonderweg and backwardness. At the same time, the profound change that occurred in these diverse territories as part of a European and in fact global process of modernization during the nineteenth and the early twentieth centuries has often not been given its true significance in relation to its later historical development. An array of recent post-colonialist responses that have fundamentally reshaped the history of the modern ‘Third World’ have touched Eastern Europe only in passing, Hence, an occasional intellectual indecisiveness as to how to analyse the region's development in a greater historical context, as is immediately evident in the diversity of names ascribed to its supposedly different geographical areas – Eastern Europe, East Central Europe, Central Europe, Mitteleuropa and South-East Europe, to name but a few – each with their own political and ideological bias.

This article has two principal aims. The first is to assess the usefulness of ‘glocalization’ as a concept in the study of early modern global cities, using human–animal interactions as a test case. The second is to explore the reciprocal influence that human–animal interactions and the development of global cities had on each other. Exploration of these two issues interrogates the frequently contradictory, often ambiguous and always contested nature of the early modern global city itself.

From the early 1960s until his sudden and unexpected death in August 1978, Jim Dyos was the chief inspiration, proselytizer and ambassador of urban history in Britain. Through many personal contacts and friendships in various parts of the world, he gave to all those connected with his chosen pursuit the sense of belonging to a great international family. It was entirely in keeping with his ambitions that he had been planning a major international conference to chart the progress made since the earlier agenda for urban history was set out at Leicester in 1966, and to highlight those methodological issues which should be confronted if urban historians are to sustain an innovative role into the 1980s. This conference will still take place with the help of a committee which had been working with him, the intention being to publish a volume based on the proceedings as the most fitting tribute to his memory. Nevertheless, it seemed right to begin this issue of the Yearbook with a short appreciation of the way Jim Dyos contributed to the study and enjoyment of urban history through his own teaching, research and writings.

The importance of landowners' influence on the timing, scale and type of development in many large nineteenth-century towns is a platitude of urban history. But the power which it gave a large, aristocratic, urban landowner to influence local affairs – political, cultural, religious and philanthropic – has received much less attention. Most historians would agree with Ralph Nevill that during the nineteenth century ‘the political influence of the English land-owning class must in any case have disappeared with the development of the great towns and the increase in population’. But while that change has been described and investigated as it occurred at Westminster and in the country-side, the actual shift in the balance of power in the towns – from those who owned and managed urban estates to those who lived on them as leasehold tenants – has received much less attention. The purpose of this article is to review the literature at present available on the subject, and to offer some suggestions as to the directions in which future research might proceed.

This article examines the relationship between the processes of urban renovation in European capitals and the internationalization of musical theatre productions, using the example of theatres constructed in Paris and Rome at the end of the nineteenth century. Due to the limited availability of governmental and municipal funding, the more popular theatres in both capitals came to provide an important space for musical productions on an avant-garde level, with international repertoires and casts.

In recent years, the idea that Britain and its northern American colonies were part of a single ‘British Atlantic world’ has provided historians of both the Old World and the New with a novel perspective from which to explore their subjects during the long eighteenth century. With a case study of Charleston, South Carolina, this essay extends British categories of analysis across the Atlantic to uncover the origins of an American middle class. Emphasis is placed on the simultaneous consideration of all arenas of identity formation, with a view to demonstrating that examining either the cultural sphere or the economic one cannot bring a genuine understanding of the coherence of this eighteenth-century middling sort. Investigating the emergence of this social group in the widest possible sense, I show how the economic experience of these middling people forged common values which then found their expression in the cultural and political sphere. Since this middle sort achieved such coherence before 1776 I suggest that we must move away from accounts that depict colonial society as a place of binary opposites and occupational groupings, for such models cannot convey the complexity of the British Atlantic urban society that took shape during this era.

Financial and economic crises are recurrent in history. A special issue of Histoire Urbaine (33, 1 (2012)), entitled ‘Villes européennes et crises financières (XIVe-XVIe siècles)’, shows that in the medieval and early modern period cities played a crucial role in the development of such crises, just as they do today. Several case-studies on France, Spain and the Low Countries demonstrate that cities are and were financial and commercial centres which were governed by a small group of merchants, bankers and powerful families. And, as David Sassu-Normand notes in his introduction, medieval and early modern municipal authorities were even more adept than their twenty-first century counterparts in disposing of political power in order to tackle economic and financial difficulties. The close relationship between money and power in those cities made it easier for elite factions to abuse public revenues, because they could autonomously decide about urban spending and its fiscal consequences. Yet, he argues, the tied relationship between urban governors and the city's economy and finances could also have positive effects. Markets and budgets were not autonomous entities, because they were embedded in urban societies and manipulated by those who govern them. As a result, urban governors disposed of the political means to deal with financial crises, or at least to remedy some of their consequences. The case of late medieval Brabant, studied by Claire Billen and David Kusman in the same issue, shows that not only urban oligarchs but also less powerful citizens could intervene in the financial politics of a town (‘Les villes du Brabant face à la crise des finances du duché de Jean II. La crise d'une société entière?’, 63–80). In the duchy of Brabant, in around 1300, the ducal and urban finances were under considerable pressure due to warfare, manipulation of the mint and an economic downturn. In the principal cities of the duchy (Brussels, Antwerp and Louvain), discrete groups of citizens, such as craftsmen and self-made merchants, forcefully protested against the monetary and fiscal measures taken by the urban authorities. Their protests were not initially successful. By the 1360s, however, urban society had changed in Brabant. Both Billen and Kusman argue that the ideas that inspired the urban protests of the 1300s led to new, more successful revolts in the 1360s and afterwards. As a result, craftsmen gained rights of political participation in the cities mentioned. Using their newly gained political power, the rebels proposed constructive solutions to resolve the ongoing financial crisis in the cities of the duchy. The measures taken reflected the existence of a belief that the urban government should be fiscally sound and stable, and that it should not live beyond its means. Fiscal reforms led to more stable urban finances, though new challenges in the fifteenth century would upset the balance again. In short, the Brabantine case shows, once again, that politics and finance are closely knit together in the medieval city, but also, and more surprisingly, that social protest against headstrong governors ultimately led to far-reaching political and fiscal reforms. Therefore, this stimulating issue of Histoire Urbaine demonstrates that financial crises can have an unpredictable outcome.

Why 1500? Why 1800? Why does Urban History's review of periodical literature use this definition of the early modern? Does urban history have a periodization of its own? The reluctance of historians to stray before and after 1800 is a major theme of C.R. Friedrichs's review of early modern German urban history, ‘But are we any closer to home? Early modern German urban history since German Home Towns’, Central European History, 30 (1998), 163–86, and I wondered about these issues while reading some of the articles published this year which did not stop and surrender their historical passports at 1500.

This case-study of Jewish activism in Strasbourg and Nice, interwar urban locales situated along the frontiers with National Socialist Germany and fascist Italy, respectively, examines critical facets of Jewish advocacy during the refugee crisis of the 1930s. It focuses on how urban spaces engendered dense thickets of community activism unlike that which took place in Paris. Whereas friction and ineffectiveness characterized aid efforts in Paris, these cities offer alternative views on the nature of the refugee crisis in France and the ways that Jews overcame obstacles to help asylum-seekers. It advances much-needed discourse on the complexity of French Jewish experiences during the interwar years and highlights the city as both location and a conduit for diverse activist strategies. Although circumstances varied in Strasbourg and Nice, Jews in these two borderland cities followed similar patterns of engaging urban civil society to build flexible networks that addressed the plight of refugees from multiple angles.

This article explores ways in which material changes engendered by World War I influenced ideas about Cape Town and its people. For the city's middle classes, these conditions – including a rise in the cost of living, increased urbanization, the growth of factory work for women and the notable presence of soldiers in the city – heightened the sense that Cape Town was a place of increased moral corruption. In particular, females were portrayed as pivotal to the upholding of the moral and racial integrity of the city, nation and empire. Yet the perceived race and class of different Capetonian women influenced the expectations (and accordant condemnations) of their behaviour. This linked to white middle-class anxieties about miscegenation and urban order. As such, discourses around female behaviour during the war represented a nexus between issues of health, race and morality within the South African urban context.