Popular discourses on conflicts in the Great Lakes region argue that many of these conflicts have been caused by “erroneous” borders that cut up communities for European interests. This chapter argues that rather than with where these borders were drawn, the problem is what they did and do. In the second half of the nineteenth century in the Lake Kivu region, communities could not be neatly delineated and matched to clearly circumscribed territory, as relations between territory and identity were different. The divergence between how political communities were perceived was not just between “European” and “African” conceptions but also between those of a centralizing state – the Nyiginya kingdom – and those societies in the “frontier” that had other forms of sociopolitical organization.

Starting from a discussion of the tumultuous context at the turn of the twentieth century, the chapter addresses the imperial conflict between Germany and the Congo Free State, who both claimed Lake Kivu and its hinterland as their imperial possession, in what became known as the “Kivu-Bufumbiro conflict.” The chapter traces the different perspectives over how to understand the sociopolitical context and unsettled spatial organization that emerge from the debates between imperial powers in the context of this conflict The chapter concludes with an examination of the early impact of European border making on local populations, and the ways in which they tried to use the colonial border for their own survival.

This chapter examines the urban development of Alexandria in Late Antiquity, tracing its transformation from a Hellenistic metropolis into a vital centre of Roman and Byzantine administration, commerce and religion. It analyses architectural and archaeological evidence to explore how the city’s infrastructure evolved in response to political shifts and economic changes. Particular attention is given to Alexandria’s grid-plan layout, monumental public buildings and role as a Mediterranean trade hub. The chapter outlines key construction phases, including Ptolemaic urban planning, Roman imperial projects and late antique renovations. Excavations at Kom el-Dikka provide crucial insights into the city’s residential, commercial and academic landscapes, revealing lecture halls, baths and artisanal workshops. This study also examines the impact of religious transformation, documenting the conversion of pagan temples into Christian churches and the rise of new ecclesiastical structures. Further emphasising Alexandria’s role as a major intellectual centre, the study highlights its famous auditoria and the persistence of scholarly activity even after the decline of its classical library tradition. Despite the challenges posed by modern urban expansion, ongoing excavations continue to refine our understanding of Alexandria’s resilience and adaptability in Late Antiquity.

Chapter 13 on Common but Differentiated Responsibilities and Respective Capabilities provides a critical analysis of this cornerstone principle of international climate law and its implications for climate litigation. The principle recognises the differentiated responsibilities and capabilities of countries in addressing climate change, acknowledging the historical contribution of developed nations to global greenhouse gas emissions and the greater capacity these nations possess to mitigate climate change and adapt to its impacts. The author critically analyses key cases where the principle has been raised, and assesses the legal reasoning employed by courts and tribunals that have given it a specific meaning. The author then identifies instances of emerging best practice where the principle has been interpreted and applied in ways that enhance climate justice outcomes. She notes that such instances do not yet constitute a uniform trend but they nonetheless illustrate the potential of this principle in shaping the delineation of responsibilities in climate lawsuits, considering fairness, equity, and historical responsibility.

The human being is freely ‘self-determined’ rather than determined through some external authority (whether theological or teleological). This dichotomy conveniently expresses the usual understanding of modern political thought’s divergence from preceding tradition. By comparison, pre-modernity is teleological, anthropomorphic, realist; in a word, naïve – with its substantively rational nature, dictating essential ends to which we are subject. These received truths are past due for a re-examination. Just how naïve or dogmatic was the Greek understanding of freedom and nature? In this chapter, I argue that Plato’s view of man as naturally political is more complex and multivalent than our historical categorizations allow. Nevertheless, there is a sense in which, for him, politics does indeed depend upon a natural model. That model, however, is the Idea of the Good. And here, where Plato seems furthest from us, lies his greatest challenge to contemporary understandings of nature and freedom.

This chapter examines the architectural development of early Christian churches, focusing on their transformation from modest worship spaces into monumental basilicas and centrally planned buildings in Late Antiquity. Drawing on archaeological findings, architectural studies, historical texts and artistic analyses, it traces the evolution of church architecture from the fourth to the seventh century. It argues that early Christian churches did not develop in isolation but were heavily influenced by existing Roman architectural traditions, pointing out that the standard basilica model, with its central nave, aisles and apse, was adapted from Roman civic buildings, while centrally planned churches were inspired by imperial mausolea. The chapter also explores regional variations, such as the preference for polygonal apses in Constantinople and straight-ended churches in North Africa and the Levant, demonstrating how local traditions shaped Christian architecture. A key argument is that church architecture was not only functional but also symbolic, reinforcing Christian identity and imperial authority. The use of precious materials, elaborate mosaics and grand designs reflected the growing prestige of Christianity. The chapter also highlights the influence of emperors, particularly Constantine and Justinian, in shaping the architectural landscape of the early church, setting a precedent for later developments in Byzantine and Western medieval architecture.

Jurisdiction refers to the ability of a State to make and enforce its laws. While often related to sovereignty, and intrinsically linked to its territory, jurisdiction can exist without a connection to territory. Jurisdiction can be held to exist in a variety of contexts, depending on the location of events, the nationality of participants or the surrounding circumstances, and will also indicate whether a State may be able to undertake enforcement action to uphold its law. This chapter considers the nature of jurisdiction insofar as it affects persons, corporations, ships and aircraft. The different types of recognised international law jurisdiction are each assessed, including territorial jurisdiction, nationality jurisdiction, universal jurisdiction, the protective principle, and passive personality jurisdiction. Jurisdictional immunities as they apply to States, Heads of States, State officials and diplomats are also considered.

The documentation related to inquisitorial practice included trial transcripts, consultations, sentences, manuals and accounts. But while this documentation was a key ingredient in inquisition’s power, the relationship between these sources and our knowledge of medieval heresy is complex.

This chapter examines the early Islamic period, focusing on the transformation of Iberia, North Africa, the Middle East, Central Asia and Sind following the rise of Islam. It explores how Islamic expansion reshaped these regions, highlighting both continuities with Late Antiquity and the emergence of new cultural, political and religious structures. The chapter discusses vital sources, including chronicles, hadith collections, inscriptions, coins and archaeological findings. It analyses the establishment of early Islamic cities, such as Kufa, Basra and Fustat, and the role of garrison towns in governance. Architectural evidence, including early mosques and urban structures, provides insights into Islam’s growing influence. A central argument is that Islam’s expansion was not an abrupt break from the past but a gradual transformation. Many aspects of administration, language and daily life remained unchanged, while Islam introduced new religious and political dynamics. The chapter also emphasises the role of material culture, including coins and inscriptions, in projecting Islamic identity. In this way, this study illustrates the complex interplay between continuity and change in the early Islamic world, arguing that archaeological research is essential for understanding the period’s long-term developments beyond textual sources.

This chapter explores Byzantine military architecture between 400 and 600, concentrating on the design, function and strategic significance of fortifications. It examines various defensive structures, including urban walls, military forts, civilian refuges and large-scale linear barriers. The chapter argues that fortifications were not merely passive defensive measures but played an active role in military strategy. It challenges the idea that increased fortification indicated imperial weakness, instead asserting that these defensive networks provided greater operational flexibility. Fortifications allowed armies to delay enemy advances, launch counterattacks and protect key urban centres. Additionally, the chapter highlights the evolution of fortification techniques, such as outward-projecting towers, deep ditches, reinforced gate structures and expanded urban wall circuits, demonstrating how these innovations responded to changing military threats. Ultimately, the chapter concludes that Byzantine military architecture was as much about psychological warfare as it was about physical defence. Well-designed fortifications not only deterred invasions but also reinforced imperial authority and boosted the morale of defenders, serving as both strategic and symbolic bulwarks of the empire.

This chapter examines the phenomenon of spolia in Late Antiquity, focusing on the reuse of architectural and sculptural elements in new contexts. It explores examples from Rome, Milan, Ravenna, Thessaloniki and Constantinople, analysing how materials were repurposed for practical, aesthetic and ideological purposes. The contribution differentiates between indiscriminate reuse for construction and the deliberate selection of objects for symbolic or propagandistic reasons. One major discussion centres on the Arch of Constantine (312–15 CE), which incorporates second-century reliefs from monuments dedicated to Trajan, Hadrian and Marcus Aurelius. The chapter considers whether this reuse was driven by practical necessity due to a lack of skilled artisans or intended as an ideological statement aligning Constantine with past emperors. In religious contexts, the Lateran Basilica and Old St Peter’s in Rome reused columns and marbles, transferring imperial grandeur to Christian spaces. This study also investigates the role of spolia in fortifications, with repurposed materials found in city walls, cisterns and military installations. Highlighting how this practice continued into the medieval period, when spolia became more prominent in church facades and mosques, the chapter argues that reuse in Late Antiquity was not simply a result of economic constraints but a deliberate process that shaped architectural and artistic traditions.

This chapter defines the theoretical terms – networks, nodes, and nuclei – explains the choice of dates between two revolutions in communication (print and the internet), and gives some concrete historical examples of the tangible benefits of looking at the history of Christianity through transnational flows and networks. This approach allows us to cross national and denominational boundaries and borders and to think more deeply about the underlying social and cultural conditions promoting or resisting adaptation and change. It also enables us to explore the crossroads or junction boxes where religious personnel and ideas encountered different traditions and from which something new and dynamic emerged.