This chapter examines a range of 1916 Shakespearean appropriations from the German sphere of influence (the German Reich and Austria-Hungary). Many of them argued that Germany had thoroughly ‘naturalised’ Shakespeare and thus had as much, or more, right to ‘own’ him as Britain. They also used Shakespeare to criticise Britain's alleged iniquities. However, German responses to the Shakespeare Tercentenary did not present an entirely unified, patriotic front. Some of them, like the April 1916 issue of the satirical magazine Simplicissimus, exposed significant blind spots in the propagandistic uses of Shakespeare. Chief among them was the uncomfortable contradiction inherent in the claim that Shakespeare was universal and above the hostilities of the war while, at the same time, constituting a uniquely German property. Moreover, it proved possible to use Shakespeare in radical ways which contradicted the official patriotic line, as evidenced in Karl Kraus’s subversive articles published in his magazine Die Fackel.

Seychelles is a small island state with a hybridity of citizens, language, and culture. Its heritage of double colonisation has resulted in a complex blend of the French civil tradition and English common law. Litigation and adjudication in Seychelles have demanded knowledge of both legal traditions and necessitated the recruitment of judicial officers from outside the jurisdiction to complement the limited pool of locally available judges. This chapter considers the substantive and procedural constitutional provisions for the appointment of both Seychellois and foreign judges to the judiciary of Seychelles, the ratio of foreign judges to Seychellois judges, and how Seychellois view foreign judges and whether their perspectives on the role of foreign judges is substantiated by evidence. Examples of some of the difficulties experienced by the appointment of foreign judges are given, together with a reflection on whether these issues are specific to foreign judges or apply to judges generally. Finally, the continuing role of foreign judges in the Seychellois judiciary is explored together with an assessment of their contribution to, and/or diminution of, the judicial and legal landscape.

In Chapter 4, we consider both women’s and men’s accounts of the birth of their first child. In our focus on birthing experiences, we consider both women’s and men’s experiences separately and explore similarities within couples. For women, we reflect on orientations to ideas of ‘natural’ birth, and for men we focus on accounts of emotional responses to the birth of a child, and their experiences of cutting the umbilical cord (or not). For both women and men, we focus on issues with receiving support while in hospital, experiences of traumatic birth, and men’s involvement in the birth of their child. Overall, this chapter highlights similarities between women and men within some of the couples, as well as marked differences for some couples. The chapter explores how in some instances birthing is naturalised, while in other instances it is seen as highly mediated.

Chapter 2 looks at seamen who were ‘aliens’ (non-subjects), and shows that legal distinctions ultimately mattered little to the Navy. Britain was rather open to immigration, and during wartime most residual disabilities of non-subjects were eased for common sailors, who were needed and overall welcome. At the same time, military necessity meant that any advantages which their status as subjects of a different sovereign should have afforded them, most notably protection from impressment (forced service), were often ignored in practice. In courts martial, special accommodations and concessions were granted informally, as a result of perceived cultural ignorance, rather than on the basis of legal status. Finally, naturalisation was liberally bestowed on naval seamen, but it was, this chapter argues, a largely irrelevant benefit. The state was very quick to revoke its protection if this clashed with native allegiances, and during wartime the alien sailor, already allowed to work in both the Navy and merchant vessels, did not stand to gain much from being naturalised. If individual seamen strategically navigated legal status and national allegiances, so did the state itself: when in need of manpower, it did not hesitate to treat its own legal categories and subjecthood boundaries as pliable.

Chapter 5 indicates that migration to and from Liberia in the nineteenth, twentieth, and twenty-first centuries profoundly modified the meaning and practice of citizenship by creating categories of Liberians that have defied the legal definition of citizen. In 1847, Liberia was a country of relative immigration yet citizenship norms were biased against those considered ‘rooted’—primarily the 16 ethnic groups already occupying the territory were formally excluded from the institution of citizenship. In 2019, however, while Liberia exemplified a country of relative emigration citizenship norms were biased against those deemed ‘rootless’—essentially jus soli Liberians who naturalised abroad and jus sanguinis Liberians who maintained their birthplace citizenship remained excluded from formal Liberian citizenship. This chapter moves beyond the rhetoric of politicians and policy makers to underscore that ordinary Liberians’ contemporary notions of rootedness and rootlessness represent a continuum of sedentarist and nomadic metaphysical thinking thereby simultaneously challenging and strengthening claims for dual citizenship. While motivations for not naturalising abroad—largely based on sedentarist metaphysics—have challenged core assumptions about the necessity of dual citizenship for Liberia, motivations for naturalising—largely based on nomadic metaphysics—have galvanised proponents of such a policy prescription and development intervention.

This chapter explores the pathways by which migration was ordered and newcomers allowed to settle in Europe’s regions. It begins with dynastic polities, where rulers habitually gave privileges to favoured groups, and ordered group migration following conquests. It then considers the policies developed in cities whose relative autonomy meant they were able to attempt the regulation of entry and exit. As in other areas of urban life, they used local legislation in the form of statutes as their tool. These resulted from deliberation in councils and by urban officials, sometimes assisted by legal experts. They developed rules that aimed to keep strangers out, unless they sought to settle and could prove their use and probity. All this took place in a period of economic growth and opportunity. Throughout the fourteenth century circumstances changed, and after the Black Death (1347–51), many regions and cities were left depopulated – needing newcomers – but also economically diminished, and hence more suspicious of them. The long-term arc sees strangers become neighbours, and a reversal in civic confidence, which led to erratic policies and often to exclusionary legislation.