The major metropolis in almost every newly industrializing nation is not a single unified city but, in fact, two quite different cities, physically juxtaposed but architecturally and socially distinct. Many observers have noted this in non-western countries throughout the world. These dual cities have usually been a legacy from the colonial past and, while increasing national autonomy and “nativization” are tending slowly to blend the two patterns, many generations may be required before the bifurcations drawn in the nineteenth century have been erased.

Legal approaches to judicial development in the new states of Asia and Africa seem to be inadequate for at least two reasons. One is that we cannot assume a prior knowledge of the political and social factors bearing on the process of change in these countries. The second is that by emphasizing legislative aspects of development, the spotlight is shifted away from the institutions themselves. One way of meeting these two objections is to bypass momentarily the normal function of judicial institutions and to look at them first of all as organizations like any other with group interests to defend and ambitions to pursue. From that starting point, it is possible to get a glimpse of the politics and sociology of legal and institutional change.

Janet Abu-Lughod has indeed performed a service to students of urbanization in her genuinely illuminating and exceptionally readable article on the evolution of Cairo's European “transplant” up to the 20th century. The article must be evaluated in terms of the case study it was intended to be, but it may be in order to add some remarks on the types of phenomena illustrated by this specific case.

Can the historian bring his presumably hard-headed and objective analytical devices to bear upon so impalpable a subject as man's art? At both ends of esthetic experience there is an elusive subjectivity: the artist (his “style” and “expressive content“) and the beholder (his “taste” and “feeling”) seem to take part in the experience on the basis of no rigidly determinable criteria. Yet here, as in the other gossamer realms of religion, philosophy, personal psychology or “national character”, the historian has never let mere impalpability daunt him. He may be aware of a caveat or two, but up into the rarefied heights he soars determined to transmit the historian's-eye view of the whole of human experience.

The field of inquiry in comparative history, wrote Marc Bloch, may be either societies that are neighbors and contemporaries or societies that are remote from each other in time and space. Western and East Asian history as a field in connoarative studies includes both types of comparisons. Focus on such a field has a number of advantages. Among these are the wide range of similar phenomena from feudalism to imperialism, the significant number of population involved, and the variety within each culture area to make possible regional comparisons and checks. Although the inclusion of additional societies might enable statistical study, the narrower gauge provides an opportunity for more depth. The range is sufficient to avoid the pitfalls arising from knowing only one other society.

The theory, practice and origin of sacral kingship have provided a source of lively controversy ever since enthusiasm for the ancient history of the Near East was first kindled in the early nineteenth century by the expedition of Napoleon to Egypt, but the discussion has been more fruitful following the publication of the pioneer anthropological work The Golden Bough, which suggested new lines of approach. It is now generally accepted that, when incipient communities larger than the clan or family group came into existence, a priest or warchief would emerge set apart to some extent from the people, and regarded as possessing supernatural powers of magic through his contact with the elemental forces or deities believed to surround human life on every side. Such beliefs were too widespread and durable for it to be possible to seek a common geographical area of origin.

Americans have traditionally recognized social mobility as a valuable and characteristic feature of their society. Constant movement up and down the ladder of wealth and status, it is generally assumed, stems naturally from our healthy insistence on equality of opportunity, on careers “open to talent”. A corollary belief, embodied in a faith in such a system, is that an egalitarian society will necessarily produce the strongest and most stable institutions.

Although all the forms of nationalism have undoubtedly certain characteristics in common, they could be logically divided into two distinct categories: 1) nationalism of majorities which hold political power in their respective realms, and 2) nationalism of the subject peoples which strive for political and cultural emancipation. This last category includes genuine minorities as well as political minorities, i.e., groups which may constitute majorities in their respective territories, but may find themselves in a position of minorities with respect to the states to which they belong. The dynamics of development of nationalism as an individual as well as social phenomenon is different in each case.