In the time of Rabbi Judah ha-Nasi (“Rabbi”), there was a revolution in the relationships between the authorities and the Jews in Palestine. This revolution was linked with the special personality of Rabbi and his way of leadership, as well as the succession of the Severan dynasty to the imperial throne, and Roman policy in the provinces in general in the time of the Severans. After the Severans came the imperial crisis, which left its mark especially on the eastern provinces, which were subjected to such a heavy economic burden that many Jews emigrated to Babylonia, the home of the largest Jewish diaspora community outside the borders of the Roman empire.

The colonies and municipalities of Italy and the provinces were not merely representations of Roman traditions. How, then, can we understand the theologies of the cities? It is possible to do this through general theological discourse, since the local elites had received the same education as Romans. But there were certainly differences, albeit not apparent to us because of our lack of precise information about the local mythologies and deities. A study of the public gods of certain cities in Gallia Belgica and Germania Inferior allow us to discern certain factors that could be behind the theological rationale that was to emerge at the moment that local magistrates defined the religious obligations of the new city foundations. Two examples allow a glimpse into the inspiration for the creation of private divinities in Latin literature.

This chapter examines the breakthrough in the Anglo-American diplomacy with the decision made at the July 1979 Lusaka Commonwealth Heads of Government Meeting by the British to support Commonwealth proposals to not recognize the new Zimbabwe-Rhodesia government led by Bishop Muzorewa and to not lift sanctions. Instead, a declaration was made that committed the British to holding a constitutional conference in London and Lancaster House in late 1979. The chapter covers some details of the Lancaster House negotiations relating to the difficulties Joshua Nkomo and Robert Mugabe had with some of the strong provisions to protect white Zimbabwean rights around land and pensions. The unilateral decision by Robert Mugabe and ZANU to run on a separate ticket in the 1980 elections is also discussed.

Certain universal and more or less perennial aspects of human perceptions of the night influence the representation of nightlife in ancient texts. But beyond the stereotypes, we may recognize tensions between conservative perceptions and a continually changing reality. In the Roman empire, we may observe certain recurring elements of a ‘nocturnal koine’, the result of general trends. The factors that shaped nightlife in the Roman empire include the diffusion of voluntary associations and their convivial activities, the donations of benefactors for nighttime activities (baths, gymnasia, public banquets), the prominent place of nocturnal rites in cults with a soteriological or initiatory aspect, and efforts to increase the safety in cities during the night. These factors should be considered within a broader context—that of the gradual and continuous colonization of the night with the activities of the day.

Talmudic literature, throughout all its chronological phases, relates to various Roman emperors. Nine emperors are mentioned explicitly by name, and among these are six who are especially notable, from three different periods. First, the period of the major Jewish revolts: Vespasian and Titus are mentioned for the War of the Destruction of the Temple, Trajan for the Diaspora revolts and Hadrian for the Bar Kochba Revolt. These are the “wicked” emperors of Talmudic literature, with Hadrian presented as the worst of all. Second, the golden age of relations between Judaea and Rome in the Severan period: “Antoninus,” usually identified with Caracalla, is presented as the “good” emperor par excellence. Finally, in the middle of the scale between the “wicked” and the “good” emperors we find Diocletian, the interesting emperor whose presence is strongly felt, as he was responsible for the development of the whole region.

This chapter explores the question, using primarily epigraphic evidence, whether individual, localized Jewish communities, without any obvious connection to each other across the ethnically, linguistically and religiously diverse Roman Empire, can be said to have had, or displayed, a “micro-identity” in addition to their non-local ethnic one, or whether this feature, if not entirely absent in some cases, was indeed overshadowed by their shared history and ethnic origins. The answer offered: in some cases, maybe.

Dar es Salaam was a mecca for Third World liberation movements, whose presence in the city was fundamental to its emergence as a ‘Cold War city’. This chapter shows how their activities became embedded in the capital’s political life through the case of the assassination of the president of the Mozambican anticolonial movement FRELIMO. Eduardo Mondlane was a skilful politician who used the city’s international connections to publicise his movement’s cause and canvass for foreign support. However, as FRELIMO sought to draw on Cold War patronage to wage war against the Portuguese, it was gripped by an internal crisis that split the movement’s leadership along ethno-racial and ideological lines. Powerful gatekeepers within the Tanzanian political establishment aligned with Mondlane’s enemies to challenge him in public and undermine his security in private. These schisms facilitated the assassination of Mondlane in 1969 and clouded the waters of subsequent inquiries into the crime’s perpetrators.

Dar es Salaam’s politics became radicalised further still in the early 1970s. A series of developments – Britain’s proposal to sell arms to South Africa, a Portuguese invasion of Guinea-Conakry, and a coup in Uganda, plus internal unrest – propelled TANU into a gear-change in its socialist revolution. This resulted in the drafting of the ‘Guidelines’ or Mwongozo. This chapter shows how Mwongozo militarised Tanzanian society and concentrated power in the hands of party activists. These steps were taken with misgivings from Julius Nyerere and proved fractious among several of his trusted colleagues. While the government continued to talk the language of continental revolution, this was accompanied by a toughening of the national institutions of the party-state. The motor for development was increasingly believed to be popular mobilisation through the organs of the party rather than the economic planning that had previously tempered revolutionary interventionism. Meanwhile, the troublesome regime in semi-autonomous Zanzibar was brought to heel. National unity was achieved and enforced from above, but came at political cost.

Chapter 8 turns to the famous judgment of Julius Caesar’s commentarii (nudi, recti, venusti, 262). Not only textual aesthetics but also visual analogies and the plastic arts underlie Cicero’s judgments. An analysis of statuary analogies and of the fuller contexts for Cicero’s statements suggests a deft ploy on his part. He portrays himself as Phidias crafting a statue of Minerva (the Parthenon Athena) and Caesar as Praxiteles crafting a statue of Venus (the Aphrodite of Knidos). The fundamentally different symbolic resonances of the goddesses simultaneously challenge Caesar’s military accomplishments and underscore Cicero’s civic achievements. Cicero thereby promotes his vision of the need to restore the Roman republic once the civil war has concluded.