The essays that follow aim to capture aspects of the unique style of R.J. Morris, aspects which taken together represent the formidable legacy that he leaves to the global world of urban history.

Historiographical accounts generally explain Belgian technocracy as a short-lived phenomenon of the 1930s, when the politicians Hendrik de Man and Paul van Zeeland unsuccessfully tried to reinforce state power by strengthening the role of experts (at the expense of the parliament). This article focuses on the overlooked ideas and activities of the political scientist Louis Camu, who, also during the 1930s, pushed for technocratic governance – with more success than van Zeeland and de Man. As ‘Royal Commissioner’ for civil service reform, Camu sought to transform Belgian politics and even the morality of the population at large. Yet despite his public prominence, Camu was far from a transparent political operator. While defending a Montesquieuan democracy in public, he covertly became involved in extreme-right politics during the latter years of the 1930s, culminating in his 1940 membership of a wartime reform committee that sought to abolish the liberal democracy.

This article was presented as the Presidential Address at the North American Conference on British Studies in Baltimore in November 2023.

This article explores the global political economy of paper—particularly newsprint—during the era of decolonisation. It shows how Third World countries, the United Nations Educational, Scientific, and Cultural Organisation (UNESCO), and the Food and Agricultural Organisation (FAO) understood newsprint as an infrastructural tool for accelerating development. However, a ‘paper famine’ in the mid-1970s exposed the major structural inequalities in the global newsprint trade, catalysing experiments to develop local paper manufacturing capacity in the Third World. The article demonstrates how debates about access to newsprint were tightly bound up with arguments about global information flows and the role of the press in the developing world. In so doing, the article argues that bringing global histories of commodities and communications into conversation enriches our understanding of the media by drawing attention to the material substance by which information circulates.

Global historians have contributed greatly to reconfiguring our understanding of the early modern world. An emphasis has broadly emerged in current scholarship on the long-distance circulation of people and goods and cross-cultural exchange of knowledge with overseas empires usually described as major vectors of global interaction. This article corrects and complicates such an interpretation by calling attention to the periodic interruption of the main lines of maritime communication that many port cities around the world experienced every year and what this meant to their inhabitants. In particular, it focuses on the seasonality of the Portuguese Empire in monsoon Asia during the sixteenth and first half of the seventeenth centuries. This specific case is approached through a combination of ecological history, labour history, and the history of emotions. Its general significance is further illuminated by extensive use of comparison with examples related to other empires across the Indian and Pacific oceans.

This article discusses the history of wine in (what is now) Portugal, within the global history of the region. The Phoenicians brought wine and viticulture to the southern and western coasts of Iberia in the eighth century bce. The Romans expanded viticulture to the entire Peninsula in the late second century bce. Wine survived the ‘Barbarian’ invasions and centuries of Islamic rule. A revival of viticulture followed the capture of Lisbon by Afonso Henriques in 1147. In the early days of the age of exploration, Portugal developed trade routes to Africa, India, the Far East, and South America. The long-distance sailing was facilitated by the colonization of the Madeira and Açores (Azores) archipelagos. The wines produced there became famous, especially in England and North America. The fortification of wine in the late seventeenth century resulted in the emergence of modern Madeiras and Ports. Following the 1755 ‘Lisbon’ earthquake, Pombal imposed strict geographical delimitations and winemaking rules in the Douro. Napoleon’s Peninsular War devastated the Portuguese economy, and then viticulture was badly hit by oïdium and phylloxera, the First World War, the Great Depression, Prohibition, and the Second World War. Portuguese wines finally emerged on the world scene after the Salazar dictatorship.

This article introduces the notion of Europe's ‘long 1989’. It does so in order to connect the remarkable events in Central and Eastern Europe in 1989 to a wider set of transformations that have reshaped Europe as a whole. The article focuses on three sets of transformation. Firstly, the dismantling of political systems forged in the earlier era of ideological polarisation. Secondly, the ‘modernisation’ of national economies that entailed the disappearance of the institutional expressions of class compromise after 1945 (in the Stalinist and social democratic forms). Thirdly, the unravelling of those collective identities – class, religion, gender and sexuality – that had come to shape individual experiences so forcefully across the twentieth century. The article explores the liberating effects of these transformations whilst arguing that the principle dynamic has been that of implosion. The resulting sense of loss has shaped contemporary Europe in multiple ways.

This essay responds to Brack et al., ‘Plague and the Mongol Conquest of Baghdad (1258)? A reevaluation of the sources’, which is a critique of our 2021 essay in this journal, ‘Plague and the Fall of Baghdad (1258)’. We argue that Brack and colleagues have misunderstood our investigation as an attempt to pinpoint the exact timing of the outbreak of plague connected with the Mongol siege of Baghdad, and so believe that an altered timeframe invalidates our suggestion that plague was involved. Taking this opportunity to revisit the state of plague historiography in western Asia, we address four issues: (1) why Mongol historiography has, until recently, avoided the question of plague’s late mediaeval resurgence within the Mongol Empire and why the ‘new genetics’ of plague now makes the question unavoidable; (2) why reconstruction of the biological processes of ‘focalisation’ is now the most urgent question in plague historiography since it constitutes what we call the prodromal stage of the Black Death pandemic; (3) how a newly informed biological perspective on disease history can allow a more sensitive reading of past observers’ reports of epidemics; and finally, (4) what a plausible scenario might look like for plague’s presence in western Asia and the eastern Mediterranean region in the late-thirteenth and early-fourteenth centuries as an emerging zoonotic disease with occasional epizootic and human outbreaks, before the more catastrophic outbreaks of the 1340s commonly referred to as ‘the Black Death’.

For a major liberal theorist of totalitarianism’s rise and early advocate for European unification, it is surprising how little Spanish philosopher José Ortega y Gasset’s views on the Second World War have factored into studies of his political thought. In this article, I show that Ortega described the conflict as a “catastrophe” that motivated European unification. Rather than an ex post facto interpretation, this was for him the fulfillment of a prophecy. As early as 1930, Ortega had predicted an impending catastrophe that would represent both a consequence of and a corrective for interwar democracy. European unification, then, was only possible to pursue after such an event. Noting that Ortega’s casting of European unification as a response to the Second World War reflects common contemporary assumptions, I also argue that he exhibits how this logic can be enlisted in the service of constraining democracy.

Civil religion has been imagined as a bloodless rationalism or a baptized patriotism, but rarely as a fully fledged religion. This article argues that a strain of civil religion emerged out of deism in the 1770s and 1780s that aspired to be an authentic religion complete with public prayer. This “practical civil religion” looked to spirituality and social ritual as a means of taming the passions and achieving national regeneration. One of the first to imagine such a religion was the journalist and novelist Louis-Sébastien Mercier. The dissenting minister David Williams went beyond Mercier’s dream, in 1776 opening the world’s first deist chapel at Margaret Street in London. Maximilien Robespierre’s short-lived cult of the Supreme Being in revolutionary France represented the apogee of the tradition of practical civil religion. Robespierre proposed the cult as a means of effecting national regeneration and completing the Revolution.

The sources formally documenting how tax policy evolves fail to capture many of the complexities inherent in such processes. Insights into such approaches would guide other tax administrations in navigating tax policy change in an international domain. This paper examines the historical background to the introduction of the Irish 12.5 percent corporate tax rate in 2003 in the face of the European Union’s (EU) dissatisfaction with the existing regime. A low corporate tax rate has long been seen as a critical element of the country’s industrial development strategy. Employing an oral history method to identify the perspectives and objectives of those involved in the policymaking process, we provide a case study of how one tax administration resolved what was seen as a particularly significant public policy dilemma.

In this article, we present an exploration of the social meaning and functions of marketplace sounds – including language, yelling and hailing – in two adjacent, yet very different sites in Copenhagen, Gammel Strand and Højbro Plads. We argue that the marketplace soundscapes played central functions as means of constructing customer-oriented semiotic spaces while negotiating territories and branding and selling products. Language by way of dialectal speech, yelling, street cries, cursing and swearing was an integral part of such processes. The two sites, by virtue of their physical placement in close proximity to each other, reinforced the contrasts between them, hence, co-constructing contrasting sonic territories – a concept which we employ and develop as part of the analysis. Central to our argument is that a sensory approach, including the sound of language, to a semiotic description of the urban marketplace requires a historical contextualization of the marketplace and its functions in the urban space, as well as of the life and culture of the marketplace vendors themselves; that is, the case in point, the female vendors from Amager and Skovshoved.