This article addresses the problem of veracity in ancient historiography. It contests some recent views that the criteria of truth in historical writing were comparable to the standards of forensic rhetoric. Against this I contend that the historians of antiquity did follow their sources with commendable fi delity, superimposing a layer of comment but not adding independent material. To illustrate the point I examine the techniques of the Alexander historian, Q. Curtius Rufus, comparing his treatment of events with (...) a range of other sources that reflect the same tradition. The results can be paralleled in early modern historiography, in the dispute between J. G. Droysen and K. W. Krüger on the character of Callisthenes of Olynthus. Both operate with the same material, but give it different “spins” according to their political perspectives. There is error and hyperbole, but no deliberate fiction. (shrink)

It is interesting, that with the notable exception of the Cologne-based geneticist Benno Müller-Hill, German historians of medicine have not bothered a great deal with looking into German medical history during the Third Reich. We owe Pennsylvania State University's Robert N Proctor a great deal of gratitude for uncovering more and more of this history, and for making it accessible in a highly readable format. Proctor has established himself rapidly as the pre-eminent US American historian of science on all (...) aspects of Nazi medical research and health policy. In this most recent book Proctor looks at Nazism's pioneering contributions in public health research and policy, as well as in environmental health, occupational health, and preventive medicine. This book holds some disturbing lessons for those who hold the view that basically good people will undertake ethical research, and support good health …. (shrink)

Crete in the Early Iron Age and Archaic periods presents a number of very particular problems for the ancient historian. Most educated lay people associate Crete with its Bronze Age civilization, the so-called Minoans, and most historians of ancient Greece tend to be more familiar with Athens and the Peloponnese. That is, after all, where the great events that Herodotus and Thucydides describe took place. Most of our literary sources for ancient Crete take the form of (...) philosophical reflections or antiquarian tidbits, and focus not on events but institutions. These facts make a conventional narrative history, an histoire éventielle, of ancient Crete more or less an impossibility. It is nonetheless precisely in the institutions of ancient Crete—the law codes, the andreion, the agele, and the persistence of oligarchy throughout the historical period—that the historical interest lies. This literary perspective emphasizes Cretan difference: Cretan exceptionalism within the Greek-speaking Mediterranean. And the study of Crete begs the question: why did democracy not emerge more often? And, more specifically, if widespread literacy and the publication of law are the keys to democracy, why did it not emerge first in Crete and not in Athens? (shrink)

Pierre Hadot, whose inaugural lecture to the chair of the History of Hellenistic and Roman Through at the Collège de France we are publishing here, is one of the most significant and wide-ranging historians of ancient philosophy writing today. His work, hardly known in the English-reading world except among specialists, exhibits that rare combination of prodigious historical scholarship and rigorous philosophical argumentation that upsets any preconceived distinction between the history of philosophy and philosophy proper. In addition to being (...) the translator and author of monographs on Plotinus, Vitorinus, Porphyry, and many others, Hadot’s most important general philosophical work is entitled Exercises spirituels et philosophie antique.1 Combined with detailed studies of Socrates and Marcus Aurelius, this work presents a history of spiritual exercises from Socrates to early Christianity, an account of their decline in modern philosophy, and a discussion of the different conceptions of philosophy that have companied the trajectory and fate of the theory and practice of spiritual exercises. Hadot’s “Forms of Life and Forms of Discourse in Ancient Philosophy” provides an overview of his major themes and preoccupations, and gives some indication of the historical scope of his work. This lecture also illuminates the methodological problems one faces in studying the history of thought, especially problems concerning the evolution, reinterpretation, and even misunderstanding of the meaning and significance of philosophical terminology. In this brief introduction, I can do no more than attempt to provide a context for Hadot’s inaugural lecture, by way of summary of his major work, and, more specifically for reader’s of Critical Inquiry, to sketch the profound importance that Hadot’s writings had for the last works of Michel Foucault. Arnold I. Davidson, executive editor of Critical Inquiry, is associate professor of philosophy and a member of the Committees on the Conceptual Foundations of Science and General Studies in the Humanities at the University of Chicago. He introduced and edited the “Symposium on Heidegger and Nazism” . He is currently working on the history of horror as it relates to the epistemology of norms and deviations. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Critical Piety: Our Urgent Need to Recover an Ancient VirtueMary Nickel (bio)But, you see, if you eats these dinners and don’t cook ’em, if you wears these clothes and don’t buy or iron them, then you might start thinking that the good fairy or some spirit did all that. They asked a little white girl in this family I used to work for who made her cake at (...) one of her little tea parties. She said she made it and then she hid her face and said the good fairies made it. Well, you are looking at that good fairy. Black folks don’t have no time to be thinking like that. If I thought like that, I’d burn cakes and scorch skirts. But when you don’t have anything else to do, you can think like that. It’s bad for your mind, though.—Rosa Wakefield1There has been a lamentable trend, in the age since the Great Awakenings, to use the word “piety” as a synonym for “devoutness.” Piety, to the contemporary ear, conjures a sense of personal religious feeling and practice. For example, Saba Mahmood’s distinguished text, Politics of Piety, has as its theme the individual agency of women in Islamic societies. Meanwhile, untold books in the field of religious studies simply use “piety” as a stand-in for “religion.”2 This use of the term is not limited to the academic study of religion; recently, one liberation theologian has even demanded that we move, in the words of the title of his book, Beyond Piety.3 The thesis of that book rests on the premise that piety is altogether private, and insufficiently materially productive.4 [End Page 5]According to the ancients, though, piety is neither of these things. Piety, for Cicero, motivates the pious to “render kind offices and loving service to one’s kin and country.”5 As such, the ancient virtue of piety is fundamentally public, insofar as it pertains to one’s public tribute to her kin and fellow citizens. Furthermore, piety is productive, insofar as it motivates the pious to accomplish good things on behalf of her kin and fellow citizens. The ancient virtue therefore involves the near inverse of what the modern term suggests today.6 Where contemporary uses of the word “piety” are often preceded by the word “personal,” the ancients would have been bewildered by such a formulation.This essay does not dare try to account for how the ancient virtue of piety disintegrated to the point of becoming a matter of private religious practice. For those who are interested in that topic, many historians (and non-historians) offer various narratives to explain that trajectory.7 However, I will refrain from so doing. Instead, in what follows, I seek to illuminate the ancient virtue of piety, and show why we need so urgently to recover it. Piety, the ancients believed, is the virtuous act of acknowledging those things that make our lives possible.Furthermore, I will also update the ancient virtue, so to speak, to situate it in our modern context. That requires three substantial interventions. First, I show that piety must be comprehensive and even prospective. That is: not only ought we to be grateful for those who have made our lives possible up to and including the present moment, but we ought also to be grateful for those whose future work will sustain our continued wellbeing. Second, I show that piety must not only be symbolic or expressive, but also material. However, I do [End Page 6] not intend to neglect the importance of expressive piety. Third, I concentrate on the appropriate means for acknowledging those sources of our being that are not altogether (or at all) commendable. Finally, I offer some reflections on what this meditation on piety might tell us about contemporary American society, including two policy proposals regarding public education and paid family leave.I. Piety, Ancient and ModernPremodern Piety. It can take some effort to comprehend what pietas meant to the ancients, especially given the modern connotations associated with its contemporary English cognate. It takes even more to grasp how central this virtue... (shrink)

The bulk of Henry's book is devoted to such a critical study. It has led him to a "singular disappointment" and to the conclusion that "we are not yet ready to interpret ancient histories, like the Hellenica". There is a general and a particular cause of the failure of nineteenth and twentieth century study of Greek historical writing. The general cause is insufficient attention to the peculiarity of Greek historiography as distinguished from its modern counterpart: the ancients did not (...) study history "for its own sake," since their approach was "esthetic". A moment's reflection on the historical origin of this meaning of "esthetic" would show the inadequacy of Henry's characterization of classical historiography. For the classical Greek, "history was a form of literature.... History is literature when an artist perceives the genius of an age and reveals it through the facts of history". This seems to be Henry's interpretation of a saying of Quintilian which he renders "History has a certain affinity to poetry". Granting for a moment that the three classical historians perceived the spirit of the ages which they described, was their primary intention to reveal those spirits? A glance at the openings of Herodotus' and Thucydides' works would show the impropriety of this suggestion. This is to say nothing of the fact that the suggestion could not be expressed in their language. However justified Henry's criticism of nineteenth and twentieth century students of classical Greek historiography may be, he shares with them the prejudice that "we know today" the meaning of historiography in general and of classical historiography in particular. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:The Young Finley:Observations on Naiden, Perry, and TompkinsBrent D. ShawIn this cursory response, I reflect on the hard work done by the three colleagues on whose articles I am commenting. Their investigations have contributed to a better understanding of the complex academic and professional background of a man who was surely one of the more influential historians of Greek and Roman antiquity writing in the latter half of (...) the twentieth century. So it is to these colleagues that the reader should pay most attention. My comments are in part directed to some specifics in their papers, and in part they are thoughts provoked by first listening to two of the papers at the 2012 Association of Ancient Historians meeting, and then reading all three (now including Jonathan Perry’s) in written form the following year.My first observation made in reflecting on the detailed recountings of one individual’s past—ordered details that produce an apparently sensible and logical narrative—is to see less conscious and perhaps seemingly trivial factors in the making of the professional historian. These are easily ignored, but their long-term and situational impact was sometimes great. The first of them is boredom.1 After all, in accordance with his father’s wishes, in 1929 Finley began work in the legal department of General Motors after securing a Master’s degree in American constitutional law. Like his older brother Murray, he could have continued to serve usefully and profitably in this capacity, and might have entered the governing echelons of one of the great capitalist corporations of his time: what a concept! Why did he not stay with GM? By his own account in the interview with Keith Hopkins, glacial boredom drove him back to his avocation of history. Like the rest of us who have this fascination, he was intrigued by the past, and this compelling interest overrode other possible ways forward.2 Sometimes details like these just jump out of the [End Page 267] piles of facts, and sometimes they are important in defining the person. I remember standing in front of the large portrait of Finley at Darwin College, Cambridge, and saying to a friend of mine, standing beside me, "There’s something missing here." "The burning cigarette," he replied. He was right. And this, too, locates our man in a certain mode of past behavior.3A vivid scenario from the 1940s evoked in Fred Naiden’s paper (p. 250) features the divisions between the downtown and uptown communities in New York city that Finley somehow had to negotiate as part of his management of Russian War Relief. In one of the missives quoted about navigating his way between the shoals of these conflicts, I spotted the use of the adverb "flatly," and I immediately recognized our man: "I have flatly told the Landsmanschaft groups that..." he states in a 1943 memorandum warning that these groups should not deal with the Jewish Defense Committee (JDC), but rather with the Russian War Relief organization, in supporting Jewish communities that had been under Nazi occupation in eastern lands. As tiny a thing as it is, it is no surprise that this same absolute refusal is expressed with the same adverb in a much later 1975 letter to Pierre Vidal-Naquet, quoted by Naiden (above, p. 257): "It gives me no pleasure, as you can imagine, to turn you down flatly...," once again precisely in internal disagreement over strategy and Jewish identity, and in affirmation of Finley’s standoffish attitude to the new state of Israel. The two instances were linked. As the JDC people oriented themselves more and more towards Washington, lobbying the center, and away from New York, they became more pro-Israel. Meanwhile, the downtown left drifted away from such involvements. There are always these instances of movement. Like boredom, they signal changes and continuities.One is struck by the world of continuities, even as the Thirties were hurled violently into the Forties by the colossal forces of a global conflict. As seems increasingly clear from these three insightful and detailed pieces of research, however, the big discontinuity occurs immediately after the war, between 1946 and the end... (shrink)

It has long been thought that the ancient Greeks did not take mechanics seriously as part of the workings of nature, and that therefore their natural philosophy was both primitive and marginal. In this book Sylvia Berryman challenges that assumption, arguing that the idea that the world works 'like a machine' can be found in ancient Greek thought, predating the early modern philosophy with which it is most closely associated. Her discussion ranges over topics including balancing and equilibrium, (...) lifting water, sphere-making and models of the heavens, and ancient Greek pneumatic theory, with detailed analysis of thinkers such as Aristotle, Archimedes, and Hero of Alexandria. Her book shows scholars of ancient Greek philosophy why it is necessary to pay attention to mechanics, and shows historians of science why the differences between ancient and modern reactions to mechanics are not as great as was generally thought. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:American Journal of Philology 121.2 (2000) 320-324 [Access article in PDF] David M. Lewis. Selected Papers in Greek and Near Eastern History. Edited by P.J. Rhodes. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1997. xii 1 418 pp. 4 pls. Cloth, $89.95. David Lewis's death in 1994 deprived the world of scholarship of one of the leading ancient historians of our time. His books include a revision of Pickard-Cambridge, The (...) Dramatic Festivals of Athens (with John Gould, 1968), A Selection of Greek Historical Inscriptions to the End of the Fifth Century B.C. (with Russell Meiggs, 1969; 2d ed. 1984), Sparta and Persia (1977), Inscriptiones Graecae I3 (editor-in-chief), fasc. 1 (1981), fasc. 2 (1993), and Cambridge Ancient [End Page 320] History, 2d ed. (co-editor), IV (1988), V (1992), VI (1994). Many of his most original ideas are to be found in his articles and reviews, however, and so the Cambridge University Press planned, before his death, a book of his short papers.The volume under review presents a total of thirty-eight papers, four previously unpublished, ranging from the 1950s to 1993. The general contents, notes, and final editing by P.J. Rhodes were discussed with Lewis; some of the notes simply give references, but there is representation of Lewis's words in the longer ones. His passion for precision, reconciling the testimony of inscriptions with the literary references, shows him to care, like Thucydides, for "exact knowledge."The four previously unpublished papers perhaps deserve summary. "On the Dating of Demosthenes' Speeches," read to the Oxford Philological Society in 1970, evaluates critically the testimony of Dionysius of Halicarnassus. The dates for Orations 22 (Against Androtion) and 24 (Against Timokrates) given in Ad Amm., relied upon by scholars for Demosthenes' career (e.g., Cawkwell, Sealey), are shown to be unlikely. The dates from Dionysius would be 355/4 for 22 and 353/2 for 24. More likely, however, are 358/7 or 357/6 for 22 and 354/3 for 24. Lewis patiently assesses the evidence of inscriptions for Androtion's career and for the documents cited in Oration 24, which he does not believe to be forgeries. He shows reasons for not putting confidence in the dates of Dionysius. Principally, this involves an analysis of Deinarchos, where his statements can be checked. Dionysius cannot be checked on his Demosthenes, but Lewis argues that his statements cannot be accepted outright. The analysis of Deinarchos is new, but part of Lewis's view there is anticipated in his "Notes on Attic Inscriptions," ABSA 49 (1954) 32, 39-49. Rhodes cites a text from the Agora excavations, soon to be published by John Camp and M.B. Richardson, which will support the date 354/3 for Oration 24.In "The Financial Offices of Eubulus and Lycurgus" (written ca. 1957) Lewis addresses two questions: "When did Eubulus hold the office of treasurer of the theoric fund (), and, with it, control of Athenian finances?" and "When was Lycurgus officially made controller of Athenian finances?" Generally held opinions would be in the 350s and 340s for Eubulus, with specific dates variously suggested, in relation to Demosthenes' speeches. For Lycurgus, either 342-330 or 338-326 is the tenure previously accepted. The decree honoring Lycurgus in [Plut.] Vit. X Or. has Lycurgus serve as treasurer of the public finance for three penteterids. Lewis argues that specific evidence is lacking for Eubulus, but that his moral authority in the reorganization of finances is likely in the 350s and 340s. He examines closely Aeschines 3.25 in assessing Eubulus' authority and argues that the office of controller of the public finance was created in 336, its term defined by the law of Hegemon: hence the period 336-324 should be understood for Lycurgus' tenure."Aristophanes and Politics" was delivered to the Oxford Branch of the [End Page 321] Classical Association in 1957 and had been given earlier in France. Lewis seeks a position that is not so minimalist as that of Gomme (in CR 1938), who had argued that Aristophanes is a dramatist, seeking... (shrink)

The purpose of this essay is to provide the historian with a generic understanding of the term economy by examining some aspects of the work of the Hungarian ?economic historian? Karl Polanyi (1886?1964). It does not seek to explain Polanyi's economic ideas to economists nor does it seek to locate his ideas within the discourses of the academic discipline of economics; there is abundant academic literature which carries out those tasks. This essay is intended to help fill a void in (...) the historical understanding, especially the modern historical understanding, of the term economy, and of how the characteristics associated with it are generally understood. Yet, in reality, it is the neoclassical paradigm of economics which is typically and uncritically taken to be the touchstone for understanding the economy. This circumstance is problematic, however, when referring to the economy of societies earlier than the late nineteenth century or of societies whose culture differs radically from that of the advanced capitalist ?west.? Polanyi's insights may help historians avoid the risk of either distorting or anachronistically misunderstanding the economy of such societies. (shrink)

Apart from the Treaty of human nature, political philosophy of David Hume's not systematic. This fact is probably associated with Hume's skepticism, disbelief in the philosophical, abstract synthesis, which necessarily reduces the complexity of the world to just one aspect. Most distinct evidence of this belief are philosophical essays, often recognized for popularizing some of the ideas contained in the Treaty. Popularization of the former no doubt, but there were also more than that. Hume They analyzed human reason and morality (...) in a very broad historical context. Essays are full of details taken from the history of culture, politics and the economy in both England and the ancient peoples. Greeks and Romans had for special esteem for Hume, and ancient historians considered it his pattern, moreover, does not mean that he was against them uncritically. (shrink)

Despite the substantial and important differences between Achinstein and Laudan, many historians of science would see little distinction between them. Both of these philosophers believe and strongly maintain that argumentation was a central aspect of the historical events involved in the establishment of wave optics. Contemporary historians would prefer to ask whether argumentation did much work at all - whether, that is, anyone ever actually persuaded anyone else to change a belief. I will attempt briefly to show that (...) issues of skilled knowledge, tacit understanding, and novel instrumentation, rather than straightforward assertions based on the overt structure of the contending theories, offer a better way to understand what took place. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:American Journal of Philology 121.4 (2000) 655-658 [Access article in PDF] RONALD MELLOR. The Roman Historians. London and New York: Routledge, 1999. x + 212 pp. Paper, $21.99. This is a textbook, the purpose of which is to provide "an introduction to the masterpieces of Roman historical and biographical writing" (ix). Although the question of the usefulness of these writings to the modern historian is not overlooked, the (...) principal concern is "to take Roman historical writing on its own terms" (196). Very little background is assumed, and no Latin (by "Roman" the title refers to works composed in Latin, regardless of subject matter: hence Nepos' Pelopidas is in, but Polybius, Diodorus, and Dio are out, except [End Page 655] as background or comparanda). The author is a distinguished Tacitean scholar, and his style is at once clear and attractive. His survey begins with the origins of Roman historiography, with special attention given to what can be known of the early annalists, to the contribution of the elder Cato, and especially to Cicero's verdict on the efforts of them all. Fine chapters on Sallust and Livy follow, and, naturally in view of the author's predilections, a long and adoring chapter on Tacitus. Ammianus Marcellinus also gets his due, in a chapter that is actually longer than Sallust's. A single chapter is devoted to Roman biography (Nepos, Tacitus once more, Suetonius and the Historia Augusta), another to autobiography (Caesar, Augustus' Res Gestae). An appraisal of the Roman achievement, and its influence, concludes the book. The strengths of Mellor's treatment of every author and every subject are many. He is keenly attentive to ancient expectations and the particular context of the central authors whose works he examines; he is especially good at fitting the purposes of a historian's writings to the historian's actual circumstances. He constantly reminds the reader of the differences between Roman and modern conceptions of historical writing. He appreciates the importance of style in appraising and understanding ancient historiography. And he makes frequent acute observations that will save instructors who use this book a good deal of time and explanation, as when he remarks of Tacitean characterization that, "since he could not easily explain ambiguities, they are expressed as contradictions" (104). In sum, then, the volume is intelligent, congenial, and will be very serviceable in courses dealing with Roman history or with historiography.It is inevitable, when anyone reviews a work of such scope, that there will be quibbles. Let me record a few of mine. Students are likely to be misled by the use of "plebeian" on p. 20. To say that, in 52 B.C., Clodius Pulcher was "Caesar's man," in contrast to Milo who by implication was Pompey's (31), is to get it wrong (cf. W. Jeffrey Tatum, The Patrician Tribune [Chapel Hill 1999] 214-15, 234-35). Since Caesar reached the senior magistracies at the earliest possible age, it is not clear to me that "his early career progressed slowly" (171). The view of Roman marriage represented on p. 69 is somewhat old-fashioned, and, along those lines, it is anachronistic to speak of "the bigamous marriage celebration of the empress Messalina" (90: Tacitus' Narcissus is accurate when at Ann. 11.30 he asks Claudius: an discidium... tuum nosti?). One does not often hear, these days, of the "clinical objectivity of Thucydides" (44). In discussing Sallust's attraction to Thucydides (43-45), it might have been helpful to discuss the (admittedly not uncomplicated) issue of Atticism in late-first-century Rome. I am less convinced than Mellor is that the speech of Sallust's Caesar constitutes the historian's "plea for common sense" (38) in the midst of the triumviral proscriptions; after all, Sallust wrote Cato's speech as well. It can hardly be true, if only in view of Pliny's keen interest in his friend's literary productivity, that Suetonius' Lives "is a book written by and for the equestrian" (152), nor do I think the description of the imperial equestrian order that is given on [End Page 656] that page... (shrink)

Luke Fildes's iconic painting The Doctor, first exhibited in 1891, has long served as a symbol of the caring, priest-like physician, watching over a sick child as the child's parents place their faith in his ministrations, technologically meager as they may be. As physicians acquired more visible and potent interventions—x-rays, antibiotics, the complex infrastructure of the hospital itself—the 19th-century British scene depicted by Fildes of an individual doctor's watchful waiting would be appropriated by the likes of the American Medical (...) class='Hi'>Association in the 1940s to remind the American public of this idealized patient-doctor relationship, augmented by increasingly powerful curative tools at the disposal of... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:Slaves, Warfare, and Ideology in the Greek HistoriansJohn WalshPeter Hunt. Slaves, Warfare, and Ideology in the Greek Historians. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1998. xiv + 246 pp. Cloth, $59.95.Put briefly, the theses of this book (a revised Stanford dissertation) may be stated as follows. (1) The role and importance of slaves in warfare of the Classical period were greater than is generally believed to be the case. (...) This misapprehension exists because Greek historians of the Classical period (most notably Herodotus, Thucydides, and Xenophon) routinely underestimate, even suppress, the contributions made by slaves to a city's success in war, whether in strategy or on the field, because of reluctance to face the fact that then slaves would be operating on the same level as was fitting for their free, and presumably better, masters. (2) Modern historians too have been unwilling to face squarely the extent of involvement by slaves in some of the most important campaigns and battles of the Classical period. Hunt attempts to rectify this situation through a thorough review of slaves' participation in Greek warfare [End Page 313] from the Persian Wars down to Xenophon. (The book concludes with a chapter of a comparative nature, on the Volones, slaves who fought for Rome in the Second Punic War; Islamic Mamluks; and slaves who fought for the Confederacy in the American Civil War.)It is certainly true that historians of the Classical period do not present us with anything close to a complete account of slaves' participation in Greek warfare. But all modern historians of the ancient world complain about the same thing: the lack of ancient sources for matters in which they are most interested. In fact, as I was reading this book, I developed an impression quite different from Hunt's concerning the extent to which slaves in war are discussed by the historians under question. I was surprised by the considerable attention which these writers paid to the issue. Were Hunt's thesis about the reluctance of Greek writers to discuss the issue so obviously correct, I would have expected far less material than Hunt has managed to discover and collect.Hunt's accounting is taken from the fifth century and is selective even at that. We are told about slaves' participation in battle at Thermopylae, Plataea, Pylos, Decelaea, Sphacteria, during Brasidas' campaign in the Thraceward region, and at Mantinaea and Arginusae. We know from Pausanias that slaves fought at Marathon. Herodotus does not mention them, and Hunt's suspicions (42) are representative of his position throughout the book: "The omission of these slaves is so striking one is tempted to call it suppression." The participation of slaves at Salamis is very likely, though not certain. Admittedly, many of these mentions are sketchy and most probably do not do justice to the role played by slaves, whether in combat or otherwise. But it may be more a matter of the glass being either half empty or half full, depending upon one's point of view. Consider the following conclusion: "Thucydides puts the Messenians and Athens' support of them in the background as he does all slave involvement in the Peloponnesian War" (63). Now, this may or may not be true for Thucydides' account of the Peloponnesian War, but it is certainly not the case in his Pentecontaetia. The defining moment in Thucydides' understanding of the importance of the Pentecontaetia for the Peloponnesian War is the course of events which led up to and followed the "open split" between Athens and Sparta (1.102.3). Given the brevity of his account of these years, the amount of space and depth of detail which he allows the Helots' revolt at Ithome and its aftermath is striking. Thucydides at times did concentrate on slaves' involvement in Greek warfare, presumably when he thought that its importance warranted such treatment. Similarly, slaves serving as rowers in the Athenian fleet at the battle of Arginusae most certainly did make a major contribution to the victory, and it is for this reason that their role is mentioned by no fewer than three contemporary sources: Hellanicus, Aristophanes, and Xenophon.Hunt is skeptical about Herodotus' account of the Helots... (shrink)

In September 2000, the self-styled “anthropological journalist” Patrick Tierney began to make public his work claiming that the Yanomamö people of South America had been actively—indeed brutally—harmed by the sociobiological anthropologist Napoleon Chagnon and the geneticist-physician James Neel. Following a florid summary of Tierney’s claims by the anthropologists Terence Turner and Leslie Sponsel, the American Anthropological Association (AAA) saw fit to take Tierney’s claims seriously by conducting a major investigation into the matter. This paper focuses on the AAA’s problematic (...) actions in this case but also provides previously unpublished information on Tierney’s falsehoods. The work presented is based on a year of research by a historian of medicine and science. The author intends the work to function as a cautionary tale to scholarly associations, which have the challenging duty of protecting scholarship and scholars from baseless and sensationalistic charges in the era of the Internet and twenty-four-hour news cycles. (shrink)

In the last 2500 years, since the beginnings in ancient Greece of the literary genre we call “history,” the relationship between history and law has been very close. True, the Greek word historia is derived from medical language, but the argumentative ability it implied was related to the judicial sphere. History, as Arnaldo Momigliano emphasized some years ago, emerged as an independent intellectual activity at the intersection of medicine and rhetoric. Following the example of the former, the historian analyzed (...) specific cases and situations looking for their natural causes; following the prescriptions of the latter—a technique, or an art, born in tribunals—he communicated the results of his inquiry.2Within the classical tradition, historical writing had to display a feature the Greeks called enargeia, and the Romans, evidential in narrtatione: the ability to convey a vivid representation of characters and situations. The historian, like the lawyer, was expected to make a convincing argument by communicating the illusion of reality, not by exhibiting proofs collected either by himself or by others.3 Collecting proofs was, until the mid-eighteenth century, an activity practiced by antiquarians and erudite, not by historians.4 When, in his Traité des differentes sortes de preuves qui servent à établir la vérité he l’histoire , the erudite Jesuit Henri Griffet compared the historian to a judge who carefully evaluates proofs and witnesses, he was expressing a still-unaddressed intellectual need. Only a few years later Edward Gibbon published his Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire, the first work that effectively combined historical narrative with an antiquarian approach.5 2. See Arnaldo Momigliano, ”History between Medicine and Rhetoric,” Ottavo contributo alla storia degli studi classici e del mondo antico, trans. Riccardo Di Donato , pp. 14-25.3. See Ginzburg, “Montrer et citer.”4. See Momigliano, “Ancient History and the Antiquarian,” Contributo alla storia degli studi classici , pp. 67-106.5. See Henri Griffet, Traité des differentes sortes de preuves qui servent à établir la vérité de l’histoire, 2d ed. . Allen Johnson, in his Historian and Historical Evidence , speaks of the Traité as “the most significant book on method after Mabillon’s De re diplomatic” . See also Momigliano, “Ancient History and the Antiquarian,” p. 81, and Ginzburg, “Just One Witness.” On Gibbon, see Momilgiano, Sesto contributo alla storia degli studi classici e del mondo antico , pp. 231-84. Carlo Ginzburg is Franklin D. Murphy Professor of Italian Renaissance Studies at the University of California, Los Angeles. His two most recent books are Ecstasies: Deciphering the Witches’ Sabbath and Il giudice e lo storico. (shrink)

This paper argues that Aristotle’s account of friendship can be applied equally to cases of friendship in association and personal friendship. It argues that both types of friendship are similar insofar as both are primarily concerned with the common good that serves as the basis of the friendship. This notion of the common good is what allows Aristotle to draw a connection between personal relationships, the more circumscribed associations, and the political association. This focus on the common good (...) allows one to look to the political association to inform one’s understanding of both friendship and justice in both the smaller associations and in personal relationships. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:The Lost Italian Renaissance: Humanists, Historians, and Latin’s LegacyPaul Richard BlumChristopher S. Celenza. The Lost Italian Renaissance: Humanists, Historians, and Latin’s Legacy. Baltimore: The Johns Hopkins University Press, 2004. Pp. xx + 210. Cloth, $45.00This is a programmatic book about why and how philosophy should care about Renaissance texts. Celenza starts with an assessment of the neglect of the wealth of Latin Renaissance [End Page 485] (...) sources by nineteenth-century historiography, followed by portraits of two prototypal twentieth-century historians and their philosophical approach. He proposes a method of study for Renaissance thinkers and exemplifies it with two key figures and with the concept of honor. A survey of the field of study and an appendix concerning Renaissance research in the US conclude the book."The Renaissance" as a field of research between the Middle Ages and what is now cowardly called "Early Modern" became legitimate through the awakening of national consciousness in the nineteenth century. Consequently, the emphasis lay on vernacular language works in Italy and elsewhere. Latin Renaissance literature never was worthy of Grossforschung, i.e., of national projects like the academy enterprises concerning world history or classical studies, even though classical philology originated in the humanists' emulation of the ancients. This however would be absorbed by the nineteenth-century idea of national character (12).Italian Hegelianism of the nineteenth and early-twentieth century included Renaissance philosophy in the evolution of national spirit, and the late Eugenio Garin as its pupil spent his scholarly life portraying with astounding precision and detail Italian Humanism and Renaissance as a dialectic and rational development. Equally diligent was the German born Paul Oskar Kristeller, clinging, however, to a very different understanding of philosophy, which Celenza describes as rationalist in the Kantian and metaphysical in the Platonico-Aristotelian tradition (41). Here the author underestimates the influence of Heidegger on Kristeller: his dissertation was clearly an interpretation of Plotinus in the light of existentialism, which still transpires in his famous Ficino book and many later philosophical statements. The problem with both approaches, that of Garin and that of Kristeller, is that those philosophers who ignore history (deliberately or incidentally) and those who lost an understanding of metaphysics do not know how to read Renaissance thinkers.'Microhistory' is the formula Celenza proposes: Richard Rorty's abolishing the notion of 'representing' reality in favor of evocation and conversation—both for the interpretation of the past and the past itself—and Pierre Bourdieux's notions of 'field' and 'relational thinking' open the possibility of locating past thinkers in their community and, consequently, the meaning of their philosophical endeavor. What Celenza exercised with Garin and Kristeller applies also to Renaissance authors. Under the heading 'Orthodoxy,' Celenza shows that it is unfortunate to censure Lorenzo Valla (+ 1457) or Marsilio Ficino (+ 1499) as being unorthodox or as precursors to the Reformation, because this perspective misses the point of their lives' work—namely, to find out what makes Christian beliefs and their sources Christian. Valla's discoveries in Greek and Latin philology and Ficino's experiments with magic are part of their scrutiny of orthopraxy (my term), the right way of Christian life, and are embedded in their conversations with friend and foe, who in some cases still await discovery. The far-reaching message of these two samples is: reading their work and studying their conversations is the way to study philosophy in the fifteenth century.The same is proven by engaging in social concepts such as 'honor.' Starting with a surprising appreciation of gender studies, Celenza suggests taking a look at intellectual masculinity among courtiers and writers. Then it turns out that Machiavelli bequeathed to modernity—perhaps as a caricature—the structure of struggle for power, ideas, and provision in which humanists were engaged, being the first large generation of intellectuals outside the safe haven of cathedrals and convents."What is really there?" is the concluding question. A new canon, the prelude to early modern sociology of scholarship, and models of—presently highly acclaimed—contextualization of intellectual productivity. Returning to the Latinity of Renaissance sources Celenza shows that even the emergence of vernacular literature, which bewitched nationalist historiography, was by itself a fruit... (shrink)

This article investigates related contexts and connections that both hide and display the coercion and sexual violence manifest in Western cultural and aesthetic artefacts during ancient Greek and Roman eras and the French imperialist epoch. Exploring ‘Pan and Syrinx’ from Ovid’s ‘Book I’ of the Metamorphoses and Claude Debussy’s Syrinx for solo flute, I historicise the meanings of rape and sexual assault that informed Ovid’s epic and then revisit the genesis of Debussy’s Syrinx because of the uneasy elements surrounding (...) its creation. I show how its cultural production is complicit with the imperial in several ways. I consider how sexual violence impacts voice, subjectivity and the body, and finally, I draw on Luce Irigaray’s work to sketch an embodied Syrinx in relation with others and her environment. I suggest the desiring potential of sexual difference, with limitations, as a generative conception of figuring the feminine-maternal body beyond masculine appropriation. In this way I open the myth up to watery material-social relations. (shrink)

The narration of tashahhud being a conversation between Allah, the Prophet and the angels is quite common among people. This article examines the authenticity of this narration and questions whether it has an informative value. In this context, the research undertaken in Hadith, Siyar, Tafsīr and Fiqh sources resulted that the narration was not stated in the hadith books -with sanad (the chain of narrators) or without sanad. The first and only summary version of the script was included in the (...) commentary of Thaʿlebī (d. 427/1035), which has very problematic sanads. The first narration without sanad but having a full text (matn) was narrated by Qurṭubī (d. 671/1273). It appears that various commentators of hadith, fuqahāʾ (expert in Islamic jurisprudence), mufassirs (commentators on the Qur’ān) and historians followed Thaʿlabî and Qurṭubī by narrating from them. In fact, these group of scholars did not specify a sanad for the narration but they usually used tamrīd forms (a form which shows that the hadith is weak or deficient), which suggests that they also did not convinced that the narrarion was makbūl (accepted). On the other hand, the fact that this narration did not accompany authentic (ṣaḥīḥ) hadiths on the emergence of tashahhud narrated by hadith scholars, such as Bukhārī, Muslim, Abū Dāwūd, Nasāʾī and Ibn Mājah, which also indicates another problem with this narration. Summary: The narration on the emergence of the prophetic prayer that is called tashahhud in the fiqh literature as it includes the word shahadah (testimony) and known as “al-tahiyyat” and “tahiyyat” is constantly transmitted among people. According to this narration, the Prophet (pbuh) praised Allāh by saying “al-taḥiyyātu lillāhi wa-al-salawātu wa-al-ṭayyibāt” on the night of Miʿrāj when he met Allāh. Our Lord responded to him by saying “al-salāmu ʿalayka ayyuhan-Nabiyyu wa-raḥmatullāhi wa-barakātuhu”. The honorable Prophet also included his ummah in this prayer by saying “al-salāmu ʿalayna wa-ʿalā ʿibād Allāh al-ṣāliḥīn” and the Gabriel (and/or angel community) who witnessed this greeting said “ashhadu an lā illāha illallāh wa-ashhadu anna Muḥammadan ʿabduhu wa-rasūluhu.”This article examines the authenticty of the narration and whether it has an informative value. The findings of the research undertaken in hadith, siyar, tafsir and fiqh sources suggests that the narration was not included in any hadith books with sanad or without sanad. The first and only narration with sanad is found in Thaʿlabī’s tafsīr titled al-Kasfh wa-al-bayān. However, it is a summary version of the narration and its sanads are very problematic. In this tafsīr, Thaʿlabī combines two different chains of narrators in one text. The sanads of these two narrations combined by Thaʿlabī as follows:1. Sanad: Zuhrī → Ibn Salimah b. ʿAbd al-Raḥmān → Jābir b. ʿAbdullāh → Prophet (pbuh).2. Sanad: Suddī → Muḥammad b. al-Sāib → Bāzān → Ibn ʿAbbās → Prophet (pbuh).The identity of Ibn Salimah mentioned in the first sanad is disputed. The rijāl (literally; men, refers to knowledge of men/narrators) scholars, such as Ibn Abī Ḥātim stated that he is a man whose memory is corrupted in his old age. In the second sanad there are three dhaʽīf (weak) narrators, namely Suddī, Muḥammad b. al-Sāib and Bāzān. Ibn Abī Ḥātim stated that some parts of Kalbī’s (Muḥammad b. al-Sāib) narration with ṭarīkh (synonym of sanad) of Bāzān from Ibn ʿAbbās was fabricated. Moreover, Thaʿlabī who narrated these two sanads in his tafsīr was accused of being conveying fabricated narrations in his books.As far as we can ascertain, Qurṭubī narrated the first narration of this story without sanad and without referring to a source. However, he narrated the full version of the text. Similarly this narration was also transmitted by Suhaylī and ʿAlī al-Qārī without sanad and a reference but they transmitted it by seperating into two slightly different texts. According to Suhaylī’s text in al-Ravḍ al-Unuf, angels stated “al-salāmu ʿalayka ayyuhan-Nabiyyu wa-raḥmatallāhi wa-barakātuhu” not Allāh. According to ʿAlī al-Qārī’s text in Sharḥ al-Shifa, when Allāh Said “al-salāmu ʿalayka ayyuhan-Nabiyyu wa-raḥmatallāhi wa-barakātuhu”, the Prophet (pbuh) responded by saying: “Allāhumma anta al-Salām wa-minka al-Salām wa-ilayka yarjiuʿ al-Salām, al-Salām alaynā wa-alā ibād Allāh al-sālihīn.” It is clear that there are disputes about the contents of some sentences as well as their subjects in the text of Tashahhud’s narration.The full text and summary versions of this narrarion can be found in tafsīr books, such as Rāzī's Mafātiḥ al-ghayb, Samarqandī's Baḥr al-ʿulūm and Bursavī's Rūḥ al-bayān; in fiqh books, such as Bābartī's al-ʿInâyah, Ḥaddād's al-Javharah al-nayyirah, ʿAynī’s al-Bināyah, Molla Khusraw’s Durar al-ḥukkām, Jamal’s Futūḥāt al-Wahhāb and Bujayramī’s al-Tajrīd; and in various hadith commentaries and in some siyar books. The authors of these books did not mention sanads of their narrations and they usually used tamrīd forms. This suggests that they also did not consider this narration as authentic. On the other hand, the fact that all narrations transmitted in these books are not compatible with those authentic (ṣaḥīḥ) hadiths about the emergence of tashahhud, which were reported by muhaddiths, such as Bukhārī, Muslim, Abū Dāwūd, Nasāī and Ibn Mājah. This also indicates another problem with this narration. The authentic hadiths on the issue as follows: 1. Bukhārī→Musaddad→Yaḥyā→Aʿmash→Shaqīq→Ibn Masʿūd: He said:When we prayed with the Messenger of Allāh (pbuh), we used to say: “Peace (al-Salām) be upon Allāh, peace be upon Jibrīl, peace be upon Mikāʿīl.” The Messenger of Allāh (pbuh) said: “Do not say: Peace (al-Salām) be upon Allāh, for Allāh is al-Salām.” Rather say: “al-taḥiyyātu lillāhi wa-al-salawātu wa-al-ṭayyibāt, al-salāmu ʿalayka ayyuhan-Nabiyyu wa-raḥmatallāhi wa-barakātuhu. Al-salāmu ʿalayna wa-ʿalā ʿibād Allāh al-ṣāliḥīn, ashhadu an lā ilāha illallāh wa-ashhadu anna Muḥammadan ʿabduhu wa-rasūluhu (Allāh compliments, prayers and pure words are due to Allāh. Peace be upon you, O Prophet, and the mercy of Allāh and his blessings. Peace be upon us and upon the righteous slaves of Allāh. I bear witness that none has the right to be worshipped except Allāh and I bear witness that Muḥammad is His slave and Messenger.”2. Bukhārī→Abū Nuaym→Sayf→Mucāhid→Abū Maʿmar ʿAbdullāh b. Saḥbarah→Ibn Masʿūd: He said:Allāh’s Messenger (pbuh) taught me Tashahhud as he taught me a sūrah (chapter) from the Qur’ān, while my hand was between his hands. (Tashahhud was): “All the best compliments and the prayers and the good things are for Allāh. Peace and Allāh’s Mercy and Blessings be on you, O Prophet! Peace be on us and on the pious slaves of Allāh, I testify that none has the right to be worshipped but Allāh, and I also testify that Muhammad is Allāh’s slave and His Apostle.” (We used to recite this in the prayer) during the lifetime of the Prophet (pbuh), but when he had died, we used to say: “Peace be on the Prophet.”As a result, it is unlikely that the Prophet (pbuh) did not touch upon the relationship between the Miʿrāj and the Tashahhud while teaching it. It is also unlikely that his companions who narrated this occasion did not mention about this important detail although they had such knowledge. Indeed, hadith scholars did not include the narrations that associated tashahhud with the Miʿrāj but they reported two other aforementioned narrations on the emergence of the Tashahhud in their books, which raises doubts over the authenticity of the relevant narration in question. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Republicanism, Religion, and Machiavelli’s Savonarolan MomentMarcia L. ColishMachiavelli’s readers often take at face value his claim that Christianity has weakened Italy’s civic spirit and martial valor, leaving it open to priestcraft and foreign invasion. Some scholars see this critique of Christianity as an expression of the irreligious, immoral, neopagan, or scientific Machiavelli, making it the chief index of his modernity. 1 One subset within this group treats Machiavelli’s [End (...) Page 597] anthropology as a secularized version of Augustine on original sin, absent an Eden behind it and a redemption before it. 2 Another view of Machiavelli on religion sees him as treating religion, whatever its teachings, functionally, as an instrument promoting desirable political behavior. 3 This is why they regard [End Page 598] Machiavelli as original and modern; although Maury D. Feld notes rightly that Machiavelli is here simply imitating the ancient Roman historians, who all treat religion in just this way. 4 For some proponents of the functionalist interpretation, it does not preclude Christian belief on Machiavelli’s part. For them his brief is not against Christianity itself but against clericalism, the papacy, and Christianity as it is currently interpreted. 5 Still others recognize Machiavelli’s acceptance of signs and portents, saintly behavior and miracles, and other indices of God’s existence and action in human history. They also note Machiavelli’s praise of biblical leaders seen as divinely inspired and his inclusion of them among the founders of religions and states who head his list of heroes. 6 Going farther, some scholars argue that Machiavelli was a conventional, if not an ardent or impeccable, Christian, who joined a religious confraternity before which he preached his Exhortation to Penitence, and the apparent recipient of the last rites of his church after a deathbed confession. 7 [End Page 599]Can these conflicting assessments of Machiavelli and religion be integrated? To some extent, yes. Once, that is, we consider a number of issues not always brought to bear on this question. Machiavelli recognizes that the foreigners who have overrun Italy and deprived Florence of the republic he had served are as Christian as the Italians. At home and abroad, their Christianity has not undermined their military strength or the civic virtue Machiavelli associates with republics. Within contemporary Florence there were three kinds of republicanism on offer, for those unhappy with the Medici restoration of 1512. One group sought to restore the pre-Medici governo stretto constitution dominated by the ottimati. Their opponents defended governo largo republicanism. Machiavelli advocated this type of polity, informed by his reading of ancient history and his assessment of human nature. But another, competing version of governo largo was put forth by Girolamo Savonarola during the Dominican friar’s stormy career as de facto head of the Florentine state from 1494 to 1498. Savonarola’s republican theory combined a number of ideas that Machiavelli loathed: the appeal to the Venetian Great Council as a model, the wish to purge Florence of her sins so that she could serve as the New Jerusalem in the coming apocalypse, and the notion that governo largo was a means to these religious ends, since the more broad-based the government, the more readily could it legislate and enforce moral reform. And, far from self-destructing after the friar’s ashes had been strewn on the Arno, Savonarolan republicanism continued to draw support from a diverse and substantial group of Florentines. Equally alarming, the agents [End Page 600] of this protracted Savonarolan moment seemed to have preempted Machiavelli’s own anticlerical, antipapal, antioligarchic, and antiMedicean positions, as well as a theory of governo largo. If we foreground Machiavelli’s desire to defend his own version of republicanism by undermining the Savonarolan alternative and if we recall that he treats Christianity positively in other contexts, it becomes possible to read those passages where he criticizes Christianity as practiced in Italy as texts with an antiSavonarolan subtext. Read this way, they are not incompatible with his acceptance of Christianity as true or as politically constructive elsewhere. In approaching this topic, we should also remember the longstanding associations that bound Christianity to politics and warfare.Addressing this last point... (shrink)

Seleucus, son of Antiochus I Soter, is mentionned as his father's coregent from 281, but disappeared in 266 under mysterious circumstances, on which ancient authors and modern historiography oppose each other. Ancient historians talk about a family crisis that led to Seleucus' execution, while Moderns conclude to natural death. By reappraising sources, we intend to demonstrate that this event results from the failure of a political experiment : a triarchy which associated Antiochus Soter to both of his (...) sons, Seleucus and Antiochus. Séleucos, fils d'Antiochos Ier Sôter, apparaît comme corégent de son père dès 281, mais disparaît en 266 dans des circonstances mystérieuses, sur lesquelles les auteurs anciens et l'historiographie moderne s'opposent. Les sources évoquent une crise familiale ayant conduit à l'exécution du fils par le père, mais les Modernes préfèrent conclure qu'il a été emporté par une épidémie. En réétudiant les sources, nous entendons montrer que la disparition du corégent Séleucos résulte de l'échec d'une expérience politique originale: une triarchie associant Antiochos Ier et ses deux fils, Séleucos et Antiochos. (shrink)

Zoologist A. J. Cain began historical research on Linnaeus in 1956 in connection with his dissatisfaction over the standard taxonomic hierarchy and the rules of binomial nomenclature. His famous 1958 paper ‘Logic and Memory in Linnaeus's System of Taxonomy’ argues that Linnaeus was following Aristotle's method of logical division without appreciating that it properly applies only to ‘analysed entities’ such as geometric figures whose essential nature is already fully known. The essence of living things being unanalysed, there is no basis (...) on which to choose the right characters to define a genus nor on which to differentiate species. Yet Cain's understanding of Aristotle, which depended on a 1916 text by H. W. B. Joseph, was fatally flawed. In the 1990s Cain devoted himself to further historical study and softened his verdict on Linnaeus, praising his empiricism. The idea that Linnaeus was applying an ancient and inappropriate method cries out for fresh study and revision. (shrink)

In this second issue of volume one, a welcome feature are those articles that bring to our readers, new historical information about women philosophers, new analyses of important positions supported by and questions addressed by select women philosophers, as well as articles that compare and contrast the views of several women philosophers on particular topics. This issue reflects on the context of women’s theoretical contributions, with articles that address the question of women’s agency and the historical account through which women (...) were acknowledged (or not) as originators of or contributors to important theoretical developments within the mentioned disciplines. In recent decades an overwhelming amount of philosophical works by women has been made available by historians of philosophy. This issue reflects those strides towards recovering philosophical writings by women. Issue 2 of this volume is organized chronologically and starts with a paper from Jonathan Head: “Anne Conway on Heaven and Hell”. Conway’s The Principles of the Most Ancient and Modern Philosophy (1690) offers representations of heaven and hell, revising our conventional image of hell. Conway presents hell in a way that she believes is more consistent with the postulate of a loving and just God. In part, Conway denies the possibility of eternal torment and emphasizes the benefits that suffering brings to a living being. Conway describes heaven as a realm of “perfect rest” where creatures enjoy unity and harmony with Christ and other heavenly spirits. This state involves an increasing understanding of the world, a continual process of perfection and harmony with other heavenly spirits. The article concludes with a description of Conway’s eschatology in the broader intellectual context of the revival of Origenist theology in its intellectual setting and in the changing framework of eschatological thought in the early Quaker community. Monica M. Mastrantonio discusses in her paper, “Lady Mary Wortley Montagu – a philosopher? The epistolary woman, because women could not be called Philosophers, Scientists, Entrepreneurs” aspects of a different and new transcultural worldview that reflects diversity and knowledge combined with philosophy in a new way. In the past, there were two roles with which Lady Mary Wortley Montagu was associated. One was her experience at the Turkish Embassy, where she highlighted cultural diversity. A second role she was associated with was international travel. Mastrantonio argues that Montagu was more than a literary aristocrat who could describe customs and traditions from abroad. Using Montagu’s complete letters, the author brings into discussion the fact that Montagu was also a vaccine entrepreneur and a journalist on political and urban issues, paving the way for discussions on philosophical questions. Many letter writers of the 16th and 17th centuries were already feminists who were politically and artistically active in their time and wrote letters with precision and expertise. The letters of Lady Mary Wortley Montagu are an important aspect in building a transcultural worldview in which diversity and knowledge combine with philosophy differently than it was before. In this short but engaging article, “American Women in the Transcendental and Pragmatist Movements”, Carol Bensick provides an overview of two important philosophical movements of the late 19th and early 20th centuries, Transcendentalism and the Pragmatism that emerged in part from that movement. In the course of identifying numerous women who contributed to both movements, Bensick examines how some of them were included in the early history of American philosophy, only to be omitted from later histories. Bensick argues that the recent designation of women philosophers as “feminist pragmatists” is historically an inaccurate identification and one that pragmatists did not use to describe themselves. The French philosopher Simone Weil, the Swiss Jeanne Hersch and the Spanish Maria Zambrano each examined how bodily elements function in the rational search for truth. In his paper Oblique Paths to Truth: Myth and Bodily Elements in Simone Weil, Jeanne Hersch and Maria Zambrano, Piergiacomo Severini examines popular “body” myths referred to by these philosophers and analyses the language they use to express that bodily elements precede consciousness and reason. Through these myths/stories we learn that truth cannot be known directly through objects. Instead, the “knowing subject” necessarily elaborates indirect paths to transcendent truth. Severini argues that the effort to reintegrate the human attachment to the marginal world is peculiar to women philosophers in the history of philosophy and thus points to an alternative path to the human search for meaning that differs from the mainstream of Western male philosophy. As a philosopher, Hedwig Conrad-Martius has been intensively engaged throughout her life in researching the question of what reality is and has contrasted her reflections with those of Husserl and others. In her contribution “Conrad-Martius: the ´Real-Reality of the World – in Dialogue with Aristotle, Aquinas and Husserl”, author Irene Breuer deals with Conrad-Martius’ concepts of reality as “real reality”, with being, existence and essence and relates them to the concepts in Aristotle, Aquinas and Husserl. She discusses once again the questions of the hypostasis of being – by which the author claims that this is about the noema itself, and about the emergence of being in particular. The author’s thesis is that although Conrad-Martius rejects transcendental reduction, Conrad-Martius does accept eidetic reduction and the positing of a sphere of primordial and given facts. Driving this sphere back into a transphysical realm, it can provide a ground for Husserl’s sphere of original facts, which itself remains beyond the reach of phenomenological enquiries. Consequently, the author concludes, Conrad-Martius and Husserl meet here in their investigations, and yes, they complement each other, at a point where “the real bursts into reality”. Join us in unveiling this universe of women’s ideas. We are happy to welcome our contributors and readers, as we improve our understanding of the history of philosophical ideas by adding new perspectives and new insights. We enter a new universe of praiseworthy ideas by women theorists, one that will doubtlessly contribute to a world description that is more accurate than a narrative written without these voices. Philosophy starts here. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:Antigone, Interrupted by Bonnie HonigLorna HardwickBonnie Honig. Antigone, Interrupted. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2013. xviii + 321 pp. Paper, $30.95.This is an important book for three main reasons. First, it offers a substantial contribution to current debates in the arts and humanities about whether and how new constructs of “humanism” can be attuned to transhistorical and transcultural experience, replace the discredited formulations associated with Western-dominated “universalism,” and maintain (...) and justify a role for human agency. Second, it addresses this aim by analysing the text of a Greek tragedy, Sophocles’ Antigone, both as a site for grounding the concepts and theories developed by intellectual historians and philosophers in the West and then as a laboratory for testing different approaches. The book will therefore be required reading for researchers and advanced students in a range of disciplines stretching from Classics to political science, as well as for those whose primary concern is the interdisciplinary “Big Picture” of the possibilities and limitations of human action and thought. Third, because inevitably there are significant problems involved with both aspects of Honig’s project, the ways in which she addresses these and the extent to which her arguments are convincing should make her book a launch-pad for further debate.Honig’s aims in the book are multiple and ambitious. In a 2013 interview for Open Democracy, she described the intellectual influences that shaped the development of the book. These include: French theorists’ use of the conceptual apparatus of fragility, change and unpredictability; Arendt’s vision of politics as “tumultuous and inaugural—always forming and reforming communities and reestablishing the importance of public life”; and the notion developed particularly in Derrida that speech acts are ruptural and extraordinary and sometimes take place in the abyss. Brought to bear on Sophocles’ Antigone, these approaches [End Page 158] lead Honig to read the play as centered around the politicisation of mourning and burial, representing a moment of crisis not just within the play but also in the wider Athenian context as probed by Thucydides in his presentation of the Epitaphios attributed to Pericles (Thuc. 2.34–46). Classicists and ancient historians will hardly find that perspective astonishing, but it provides Honig with the basis for the extension of the argument to the larger canvas of the re-examination of humanist angst and the desire to imagine through the lens of a classical text a humanism that is neither reductive nor pessimist nor a synonym for an imposition of “universal” as its defining characteristic. Her enterprise has implications for Classics as well as for the new humanism that she constructs.1 In some respects the book represents an intellectual journey for Honig herself, in which she moves from an initial sense that “in current contexts of inegalitarian, neo-liberal capitalisation and globalization, the reinterpretation of classical texts hardly seems the most pressing task” (9) to recognition of the play’s pivotal role in the notion of agonistic humanism (196).Honig’s opening chapter sets out the models of humanism that she seeks to overturn. She starts from the supposition that humanism is once again a topic of aspiration: “not the rationalist universalist variety discredited by post-structuralism and the horrific events of the twentieth century, but a newer variant” (17). She claims that one version of “new” humanism asserts that what is common to humans is not rationality but mortality, “not the capacity to reason but vulnerability to suffering.” Furthermore, she asserts that this privileging of finitude as a defining characteristic disempowers humans and marginalises political struggle. Because Greek tragedy has been foundational to attempts to seek solace in “redemptive moments” or the “transformation of suffering and loss into a story of human endurance” (206, n. 7, quoting Euben), the task of envisioning an alternative has to be commenced on the site of the ancient texts. And since Honig perceives Antigone as the representative text of “mortalist humanists” (25), that text has to be her laboratory (Part 1 of the book sets out the shift from Oedipus to Antigone as central texts for different types of humanism).2 Once Antigone is centre-stage, the concepts and practices of lament and... (shrink)

The aggressive foreign policy of the Soviet Union and insufficient dynamic development of Soviet culture of the late 70's of XX century led to a slowdown in the British-Soviet cultural relations, including the prohibition of exchange visits between Ministers of Culture of both countries and bilateral tours of theatre, ballet and opera groups. In order to otrengthen cultural relations between the UK and the Soviet Union, the leadership of both countries established centers of cultural developments like the British Association (...) "Great Britain - USSR" and the Soviet Society "USSR - United Kingdom ". Top priority areas of bilateral relations between the leadership of the United Kingdom and the Soviet Union were literary industry which included publishing scientific literature, expansion of book exchange between Soviet and British libraries, exhibitions of works of literature, such as the exhibition of the works of British authors, published on the territory of the Soviet Union in 1984; theatrical sphere, which included exchange visits of the UK and the USSR theater personalities to study the trends of Performing Arts and review of countries' repertoire; contacts in the field of historical sciences by creating among States bilateral commission of historians of the USSR and the UK; research work done by Soviet specialists in the territorial waters of the United Kingdom with the permission of the British government; cooperation in the field of cinema presented directors and actors exchange visits of both countries carrying out the Soviet television Week in 1984 in the National theater of Great Britain; and constructive cooperation in the field of music, which demonstrated the International Music Festival in May 1981 in Moscow and performances of the Moscow Philharmonic, "Music of Russian rites and festivals" and "Tradition of ancient Russian music" in the early 1980's in UK. British-soviet system of contacts in the sphere of culture was a tool for establishing successful diplomatic relations between Great Britain and the Soviet Union. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:Friendship in the Classical World by David KonstanDavid K. GliddenDavid Konstan. Friendship in the Classical World. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1997. Pp. xiv + 206. Paper, $18.95.Despite its brevity, Konstan’s history of friendship in classical antiquity speaks volumes. With admirable precision and economy of expression, Konstan cites and surveys scores of ancient authors—poets, playwrights, politicians, novelists and historians, sophists, satirists, philosophers, and theologians—from Homer’s legendary portrait (...) of Achilles and Patroclus to the Christian fusions of Venantius Fortunatus in the sixth century of the common era. An impressive array of anthropologists, philosophers, and classical scholars enter into the discussion at specific interstices connecting philology, textual interpretation, ancient history, and modern social psychology all together, so as to display an evolving array of ancient philosophies, faiths, and attitudes concerned with friendly relations of one sort or another. Konstan grounds this history in a richly informed context of exacting detail. Yet, he charitably leaves his reader with the feeling that so much more needs to be explored.At the same time, what largely motivates this work is Konstan’s demonstrable conviction that ancient friendship exhibits recognizable resemblances with its contemporary counterpart, notwithstanding all the varieties exhibited over the fifteen hundred years or so of ancient Greek and Roman practices. “Ideas of friendship were adapted to different practices, but the core sense of a private bond based on mutual affection, esteem, and liberality—within the capabilities of the respective partners—abided” (148). What is foreign in ancient human relations may be considerable, but it [End Page 359] does not efface what remains familiar and what continues to be prized about the company of friends. Regardless of the peculiarities of ancient political associations, protocols of reciprocity, the relations of clients to their patrons, strains between honesty and flattery, divided loyalties among families, friends, and countries, and the dramatic effects of early Christianity on human relations when faced with a relationship to God, there is, all the same, something comfortably familiar about the ways friends related to one another throughout the ancient world. This abides even in the face of ancient/modern barriers segregating friendships from, say, sexual relationships or restricting friendships across genders, or so it would seem.Konstan’s anthropological approach employs an approximating master concept of friendship with which to tie his story together, a conception which places great emphasis on “mutual affection, esteem, and liberality.” Aristotle’s understanding of friendship consequently plays a special role in this history, both as an influential model within antiquity and also as a vehicle for Konstan’s own narrative construction.Aristotle famously portrayed a prototype of human friendship in which persons are bound together first and foremost by a personal affinity due in large part to the content of their character, in contrast to those who are friends for lesser reasons, due to usefulness or pleasure. At the same time, Aristotle’s focus on virtue friendship as a primary vehicle for fathoming other varieties of human relations became something of a self-fulfilling methodology. Armed with such a normative model, a philosophical anthropologist would then rank other varieties of human relations accordingly, as lesser forms of friendship. Aristotle’s template serves Konstan’s purpose nicely, since he too sees character affinity as primary to the various ways we human beings relate with one another. Yet, normative ideals of what friendship ought to be when at its best inevitably affect, in turn, how we read the ways friends are and were historically.Following Aristotle, Konstan lays great emphasis on the originating Greek conception of the friend (philos as a noun), as opposed to the various instantiations of whatever objects may be loved or cherished generally (philos as an adjective). So too, the broader, underlying account of caring (philein the verb; philia the abstracted noun) is displaced as well, to maintain a steady focus on the living witness of friends, both real and ideal. While this tidy terminological division between philos (noun) and philos (adjective) might work well for Aristotle and for Konstan, Plato found it less appealing. And it was Plato’s Lysis, after all, that Aristotle’s originating model of friendship was responding to. Had a modern... (shrink)

Zoologist A. J. Cain began historical research on Linnaeus in 1956 in connection with his dissatisfaction over the standard taxonomic hierarchy and the rules of binomial nomenclature. His famous 1958 paper 'Logic and Memory in Linnaeus's System of Taxonomy' argues that Linnaeus was following Aristotle's method of logical division without appreciating that it properly applies only to 'analysed entities' such as geometric figures whose essential nature is already fully known. The essence of living things being unanalysed, there is no basis (...) on which to choose the right characters to define a genus nor on which to differentiate species. Yet Cain 's understanding of Aristotle, which depended on a 1916 text by H. W. B. Joseph, was fatally flawed. In the 1990s Cain devoted himself to further historical study and softened his verdict on Linnaeus, praising his empiricism. The idea that Linnaeus was applying an ancient and inappropriate method cries out for fresh study and revision. (shrink)

This code of practice for health professionals was prepared by a multi-professional group and reflects good clinical practice in encouraging dialogue about individuals' wishes concerning their future treatment. It has a broad practical approach, considers a range of advance statements, advises of dangers and benefits of making treatment decisions in advance and combines annotated code of practice with a quick pull out guide for easy reference.

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Introduction:Quis se Caesaribus notus non fingit amicum? 1Richard TalbertThis volume owes its origin to a chance encounter in March 2008. As fellow Roman historians, David Potter and I always welcome the opportunity of a conversation whenever our paths happen to cross. Finding myself in Ann Arbor in this instance, I mentioned to David as we talked how impressed I was with the recently published volume The Court and (...) Court Society in Ancient Monarchies, a set of seven contributions edited by Tony Spawforth (2007); of particular interest for my own current work, I added, was the treatment of the Late Roman court by Rowland Smith. David's disclosure at this point that he and Rowland had been fellow graduate students, and our mutual recognition that "court studies" are an emerging theme with immense potential, eventually led us to contemplate sponsoring a conference panel on it. With the 8th Roman Archaeology Conference at Ann Arbor in preparation, we approached the organizers, and they generously included "Royal Courts" in the conference program as a special session. Rowland accepted our invitation to come from the United Kingdom for the occasion, as did Boris Dreyer from Germany. They were joined as speakers by Geoffrey Sumi (Mount Holyoke, Mass.) and by Karen Acton and Ian Moyer from the University of Michigan itself. The session took place on April 3, 2009, during the week that Michelle Obama was suspected of committing the courtly faux pas of touching Queen Elizabeth II in London. In view of the high quality of all five papers, their remarkable cohesion, and the stimulus aroused by the session, we became convinced that publication of written versions would have lasting value and interest. The three special issues to date of American Journal of Philology (all of them likewise stemming from conference panels in fact) seemed an ideal model for the purpose. When approached, the present editor, David Larmour, reacted most positively to the prospect of a fourth such special issue, and we thank him warmly. [End Page 1] We are also grateful to our session speakers, all five of whom consented with alacrity to write up their papers for publication. David offered to add a contribution, and I undertook to introduce the volume. Once we were able to review all six contributions together, it seemed that the original session title called for modification, hence our choice of Classical Courts and Courtiers.What constitutes a "court" is obviously a fundamental issue, treated in this volume by David Potter's contribution in particular and usefully defined in brief by Rowland Smith as "a distinctively configured field in which two categories of human activity—domestic service to a ruler and government of his territories—intersect and mix." For classicists to appreciate the complexity and importance of such an elastic institution is indeed no novelty where Alexander the Great and the Successor kingdoms are concerned, with their close links to earlier Persian and Egyptian forms of rule. This is not to suggest that little remains to be said about these courts. Far from it. David and I were conscious that Tony Spawforth's volume could not be enlarged to include contributions on the Ptolemaic or Seleucid courts. We were eager, therefore, that our own panel (which in turn had to be selective in its coverage) should somehow address these gaps. For that very reason we approached Ian Moyer and Boris Dreyer, who between them demonstrate most capably that established thinking about the composition and development of the Ptolemaic and Seleucid courts, respectively, is due for revision when the evidence is subjected to fresh appraisal.In contrast to the Hellenistic courts, study of the Roman court has been strangely delayed. A principal purpose of the present volume therefore is to reinforce and advance research already begun by several scholars, especially Jeremy Paterson, Rowland Smith, Andrew Wallace-Hadrill, and Aloys Winterling (latest, 2009).2 A range of reasons for this neglect of the Roman court—so astonishing in retrospect—can be identified. First, the lack of specificity for the court. No structures to be closely associated with it remain intact; the same applies, broadly speaking, to both Alexandria (Moyer in this volume) and the great Late Roman... (shrink)

Throughout his career, Wundt recognized Völkerpsychologie (VP) as (at first) ancillary to experimental psychology or (later) as its required complement. New scholarship from around 1979 highlighted this fact while claiming to correct a picture of Wundt as a pure associationist, attributed to Boring’s History of Experimental Psychology, by instead emphasizing apperception in Wundt’s scheme (sec. 2). The criticisms of Boring, summarized by Blumenthal in 1980, overshot the mark. Boring’s Wundt was no pure associationist. Both Boring and the seventy-niner historians (...) emphasized psychic activity in Wundt. Section 3 considers Wundt’s endorsements of mental chemistry, elements, association, and psychological explanation via combinations of elements. Section 4 follows Wundt’s changing conceptions of VP; looks into the relations between VP and experiment, especially as regards “higher” mental processes; examines the (sometimes cooperative) interactions between individual (including experimental) psychology and VP; and considers how method, not type of mental process, distinguishes the two branches of psychology. Finally, section 5 acknowledges Wundt’s unification of VP and individual psychology and concludes that although he objected to the Würzburgers’ experimental methods in treating higher mental processes, he did not generally exclude the latter from experimental investigation, contrary to the seventy-niner narrative, which has been widely adopted. (shrink)

This book treats ancient logic: the logic that originated in Greece by Aristotle and the Stoics, mainly in the hundred year period beginning about 350 BCE. Ancient logic was never completely ignored by modern logic from its Boolean origin in the middle 1800s: it was prominent in Boole’s writings and it was mentioned by Frege and by Hilbert. Nevertheless, the first century of mathematical logic did not take it seriously enough to study the ancient logic texts. A (...) renaissance in ancient logic studies occurred in the early 1950s with the publication of the landmark Aristotle’s Syllogistic by Jan Łukasiewicz, Oxford UP 1951, 2nd ed. 1957. Despite its title, it treats the logic of the Stoics as well as that of Aristotle. Łukasiewicz was a distinguished mathematical logician. He had created many-valued logic and the parenthesis-free prefix notation known as Polish notation. He co-authored with Alfred Tarski’s an important paper on metatheory of propositional logic and he was one of Tarski’s the three main teachers at the University of Warsaw. Łukasiewicz’s stature was just short of that of the giants: Aristotle, Boole, Frege, Tarski and Gödel. No mathematical logician of his caliber had ever before quoted the actual teachings of ancient logicians. -/- Not only did Łukasiewicz inject fresh hypotheses, new concepts, and imaginative modern perspectives into the field, his enormous prestige and that of the Warsaw School of Logic reflected on the whole field of ancient logic studies. Suddenly, this previously somewhat dormant and obscure field became active and gained in respectability and importance in the eyes of logicians, mathematicians, linguists, analytic philosophers, and historians. Next to Aristotle himself and perhaps the Stoic logician Chrysippus, Łukasiewicz is the most prominent figure in ancient logic studies. A huge literature traces its origins to Łukasiewicz. -/- This Ancient Logic and Its Modern Interpretations, is based on the 1973 Buffalo Symposium on Modernist Interpretations of Ancient Logic, the first conference devoted entirely to critical assessment of the state of ancient logic studies. (shrink)

In recent years many historians have rightly emphasised aggressive imperialism as a key element in Roman political life in the Middle and Late Republic. This has led to reconsideration of the significance of the ‘just war’ theory associated with the college of fetiales. ‘On the basis of this fetial law of the Roman people, it can be understood that no war is justified unless it is waged after compensation has been demanded , or the war has been announced in (...) advance and formally proclaimed.’ Earlier this century, scholars were happy to accept that this ‘fetial law’ implied that the Romans never initiated wars of aggression but fought only if they felt they were the aggrieved party. Scullard believed that ‘…in fact Roman religious law did not countenance wars of aggression designed to gain new territory’ ; for Tenney Frank, ‘ the Roman mos maiorum did not recognise the right of aggression or a desire for more territory as just causes for war. That the institution was observed in good faith for centuries there can be no doubt.’ Recent scholars have been more sceptical. Harris sees the activities of the fetiales primarily as a psychological mechanism for assuaging the guilt feelings which even Romans will have been unable to escape when initiating totally unjustified wars of aggression: ‘the significance of the fetial procedure for declaring war was solely psychological’. Other writers have gone further in stressing its mystificatory and propaganda function. Our scepticism about the efficacy of ‘fetial law’ in restraining the Romans' belligerence should be accompanied by a re-evaluation of our evidence regarding the fetiales and what they actually did. Such a re-evaluation will not affect our picture of the Romans of the Middle and Late Republic as aggressive and militaristic, but we may have to revise our views on how the fetiales fit into that picture. This paper makes no claim to analyse exhaustively every piece of evidence which might throw some light on the fetiales, let alone every interpretation to be found in the secondary literature; but it may be worthwhile to reconsider the main types of operations which the fetiales are said by our ancient sources to have been involved in. (shrink)

Western democracy is now at a critical juncture. Some worry that power has been wrested from the people and placed in the hands of a small political elite. Others argue that the democratic system gives too much power to a populace that is largely ill-informed and easily swayed by demagogues. This classic study of democratic principles is thus now more relevant than ever. A renowned historian of antiquity and political philosophy, Sir M.I. Finley offers a comparative analysis of Greek and (...) modern conceptions of democracy. As he puts the ancient Greeks in dialogue with their contemporary counterparts, Finley tackles some of the most pressing issues of our day, including public apathy, partisanship, consensus politics, distrust of professional politicians, and the limits of free speech. Including three lectures that Finley delivered at Rutgers University, plus two additional essays that further illuminate his thinking, _Democracy Ancient and Modern _explores the dramatic differences between the close-knit civil society of the ancient Greeks and our own atomized mass societies. By mapping out democracy’s past and its present manifestations, this book helps us plot a course for democracy’s future. (shrink)

A philosopher, rabbi, religious historian, and Gnostic, Jacob Taubes was for many years a correspondent and interlocutor of Carl Schmitt (1888-1985), a German jurist, philosopher, political theorist, law professor--and self-professed Nazi. Despite their unlikely association, Taubes and Schmitt shared an abiding interest in the fundamental problems of political theology, believing the great challenges of modern political theory were ancient in pedigree and, in many cases, anticipated the works of Judeo-Christian eschatologists. In this collection of Taubes's writings on Schmitt, (...) the two intellectuals work through ideas of the apocalypse and other central concepts of political theology. Taubes acknowledges Schmitt's reservations about the weakness of liberal democracy yet distances himself from his prescription to rectify it, arguing the apocalyptic worldview requires less of a rigid hierarchical social ordering than a community committed to the importance of decision making. In these writings, a sharper and more nuanced portrait of Schmitt's thought emerges, as well as a more complicated understanding of Taubes, who has shaped the work of Giorgio Agamben, Peter Sloterdijk, and other major twentieth-century theorists. (shrink)