Around 1900, scholars commonly marked modern history from the French invasion of Italy in 1494. The size of the army that crossed the Alps – about 30,000 men – and its use of field artillery to batter down the curtain walls of ancient towns was, supposedly, unprecedented. As France’s claims in Italy were subsequently challenged by Spain and the Holy Roman Empire, the duchy of Milan and other Italian states collapsed, or changed hands, with astonishing abruptness. Today, it is no longer clear that the campaigns of the Wars of Italy (1494–1559) were so sharply differentiated from those of the last phase of the Hundred Years’ War (1415–53). But the political cataclysms of our own time seem to confirm Niccolò Machiavelli’s insights into the precariousness of power at the turn of the sixteenth century. No boundary was sacred, and no government lacked a portfolio of ideas for expansion, to be tested if circumstances seemed ripe. Since a power dominant in a given region often worked to keep things as they were, one might distinguish between ambitious governments eager for war and cautious governments concerned to preserve what they had. Any move by a hegemonic power was taken by its rivals as an attempt to reduce them to abject servitude.

Ottoman wars from the mid-fifteenth century through the end of the eighteenth century fundamentally changed the geopolitics of Southeast Europe, West Asia, and the Middle East. The Ottomans emerged in West Asia Minor toward the end of the thirteenth century. Known as “Turks” in contemporaneous Europe, the Ottoman ruling elite incorporated people of a wide variety of ethnic origins who considered themselves the followers and descendants of Osman (d. 1324?), the dynasty’s founder. Those loyal to the dynasty of Osman used the Turkish designation of “Osmanlı” (Turkish, “of Osman”), which over time came to be rendered in English as “Ottoman.” Within three generations after Osman’s death, the Ottomans had either conquered or subjugated into vassalage most of the preexisting polities and rival dynasties in the Balkans and Asia Minor. Timur Lenk’s victory over the Ottomans near Ankara in 1402 temporarily checked Ottoman expansion. Still, the dynasty recovered, and by 1453 Sultan Mehmed II (r. 1444–46, 1451–81) sealed the Ottomans’ status as a formidable military power by conquering Constantinople, the capital of the thousand-year-old Byzantine or Eastern Roman Empire. Expansion through conquest continued well into the sixteenth century. Ottoman battlefield victories under Sultan Selim I (r. 1512–20) against the Safavids of Persia (Chaldiran in 1514) and the Mamluks of Syria and Egypt (Marj Dabiq in 1516 and Raydaniyya in 1517) and under Sultan Süleyman (r. 1520–66) against the Hungarians (Mohács in 1526) resulted in spectacular Ottoman territorial gains in eastern Anatolia, Azerbaijan, Syria, Egypt, and Hungary.

This chapter explores the rap debates of philosophical aesthetics, where early academic discourse on rap was at its most active. Rap aestheticians (led by Richard Shusterman) accentuated rap’s nature as an “art form”. The chapter examines the key issues within this debate, including the aesthetic experience of rap, flow (Mtume ya Salaam), the need for public support (and Herbert Grabes’ criticism of this position), and rap’s affinities with the Harlem Renaissance (Marvin Gladney). Rap’s engagement with other cultural practices, like driving and everyday culture, was discussed very early within philosophical aesthetics. Right from the beginning the debate was very international, with many of the authors coming from the Nordic Countries (Esa Sironen, Stefán Snaevarr, Martti Honkanen). It argues that there is still a lot to learn from aesthetic discussions on rap, and these philosophical debates are an interesting historical phenomenon, which rap scholars should know more about.

This chapter studies the history of European expansion in the oceans and the seas stretching east from the Cape of Good Hope. It aims to look at European violent activity here within the broader context of the history of the Indian Ocean, the Red Sea, the Persian Gulf, the Arabian Sea, the Bay of Bengal, the South Chinese Sea, and the Pacific Ocean. In this short chapter, only a few major developments can be traced. Roughly three phases can be distinguished: first, armed vessels – sea power – opened the door for later European success. Then overseas bases – factories – were consolidated by the construction of fortresses. Finally, the Europeans – the Portuguese, the Dutch, the English, and the French – became drawn into military enterprises inland. This chapter, though, focuses on the naval aspects of European expansion, more specifically on the use of warfare to support overseas trade or to prevent competitors from trading.

After the conquest of the Caribbean, Mexico, and Peru, Spanish dominance in the Americas was maintained through a combination of “soft” and “hard” power: a mixture of armed coercion and an elaborate legal-administrative apparatus which ensured that tension rarely escalated into full-blown conflict. The sturdiness of Spain’s empire may also be attributed to other significant factors, including epidemiology (differential immunity), topography, and the avoidance of certain types of military engagement, all of which tended to intersect with or reinforce the deployment of “soft” and “hard” power. There were at least three broad threats to Spain’s dominance: external enemies, particularly rival European states covetous of the economic advantages Spain obtained from its New World dominions; unsubdued Amerindians on the fringes of Spanish settlement, who clung to their autonomy and effectively controlled vast swathes of territory through to the end of the colonial period; and an internal, heterogeneous group from all rungs of the socioeconomic ladder, from wealthy, privileged merchants to mistreated African slaves. At some point or other from 1521 until 1808, an internal challenge to Spanish dominance emerged from every sector of colonial society. Whether by design or felicitous coincidence, external and internal threats to Spanish dominance were rarely coterminous, which may help to explain the empire’s resilience and longevity.

This chapter focuses on the drill music genre, a subgenre of gangsta rap that was born in Chicago’s underground hip hop scene in the early 2010s. Using observation and interviews with drill artists, their managers and other support workers, it discusses the relational practices of hip-hop youth on social media. The chapter examines their work on social media toward acquiring “clout”– a digital form of influence described by emerging musicians as allowing them to leverage digital tools in building social and professional status, amplify authenticity, cultivate relations with fans, and connect to friends and other cultural producers. It analyses the practice of “capping” (strategic deception, exaggeration of toughness, desirability to women and financial wealth) as a relational strategy that respondents utilized to acquire clout. The chapter argues that capping is an example of how race, class, gender and geography influence the digital interactions of young people and how the social media practices of drill rappers add significantly to the understanding of the counterpublics arising from globalising social media.

This chapter explores how the ancient literary and philosophical dialogue form maintained its relevance as a tool of cultural and religious identity formation and competition. It addresses the ongoing scholarly discussion regarding the scope for dialogue in the face of rising authoritarianism and dogmatism in late antiquity.

Heresiological catalogues are one of the most distinctive forms of literature concerning heresy and have also traditionally been one of the most difficult to interpret. This chapter traces the development of this form of writing, focusing on the most productive period in late antiquity, and explores how much such works were intended to be employed in active ‘heresy-hunting’ and what other purposes they might have had, including increasing the authority and status of their authors.

Numerous Christian authors from the seventh century to the twenty-first have classified Islam as a Christian heresy. Writers from John of Damascus in the seventh century to Hilaire Belloc in the twentieth have seen Muhammad as a heresiarch who forged a heresy based on elements of Judaism, Christianity and Paganism. Comparison between Muhammad and earlier heresiarchs (such as Arius or Nestorius) allowed Christian authors to denigrate and dismiss Islamic doctrine. Such comparison also facilitated the denunciation of new heretics closer to home: Luther and Calvin, for Catholic polemicists of the sixteenth century, or on the contrary the ‘papists’, for Protestant writers.

This chapter examines the concept of heresy through the growth of papal decretals, canon law and conciliar legislation during the High and Late Middle Ages (eleventh to fifteenth centuries). It explores the growth of medieval heresy during a period of burgeoning papal power and examines how popes both reacted to and constructed ideas of heresy and heretics.

This chapter examines the reciprocal accusations of heresy between the Byzantine East and Latin West: such accusations were only sporadically made during the first millennium but increased exponentially from the twelfth century onwards on the Byzantine side and, to a lesser extent, from the thirteenth century on the Latin side (where they were generally subsumed under the accusation of schism or ‘disobedience’). The notions of ‘heretic’ and ‘schismatic’, which ought to be distinct and precisely defined according to canon law, increasingly overlapped within the polemical discourse and were collectively applied to the opposite population, in a process of construction of religious otherness.