Residents of Syria in the mid-1250s – Franks and Arabic-speaking Muslims, Christians and Jews – would probably not have imagined the possibility of a region without Frankish communities and polities in Outremer, what today we call the Levant. King Louis IX’s crusade to Egypt in 1249–50 had ended in spectacular defeat, and a Mamlūk state of sorts had been established in 1250, bringing Ayyubid rule in Egypt to a close (discussed later). There were worrisome rumblings from the East – a large army under Hülegü (Chinggis Khan’s grandson and brother of the Great Khan Möngke (r. 1251–59)) had arrived in north-eastern Iran, and was working its way across that large country. But Louis IX had paid his ransom to the Mamlūks, been released, and had spent four years in Palestine rebuilding fortifications and strengthening the Frankish communities before he returned to France in 1254. The Mamlūks of Egypt and the Syrian Ayyubids had battled themselves to a standstill in the early 1250s, with an uneasy frontier somewhere between north-eastern Sinai and south-western Palestine.

The Byzantine reaction to the establishment of the Latin states in the wake of the First Crusade is puzzling at first sight. In themselves, the kingdom of Jerusalem, the principality of Antioch, the county of Tripoli and the county of Edessa posed no direct threat to the empire. On the contrary, they were potential allies against the Armenians of Cilicia, the Danishmendid Turks of Sebasteia and the Seljuk Turks of Ikonion, the enemies that the Byzantines would have to subdue if they were to restore their control over the areas of Asia Minor lost in the years after the Battle of Manzikert in 1071. Nevertheless, successive Byzantine emperors devoted considerable energy and resources to an attempt to bring the Latin states under their authority, leading three major military expeditions into the area. Some recent commentators have been perplexed by this apparent diversion from what might be regarded as the main task of reconquering Asia Minor and have interpreted it as part of a wider expansionist strategy that was designed to bring the empire’s frontiers up to the Euphrates.

Between the end of the war in Vietnam in 1975 and US–Vietnam diplomatic normalization in 1995, governmental negotiations often fell into a stalemate despite people’s desire for improved relations. The delayed normalization bore the impacts of the Cold War politics and regional conflicts among Vietnam, Cambodia, and China. This chapter argues that the US policy toward Vietnam from 1975 to the early 1990s was ambiguous and perplexing and that it was ordinary citizens who laid the groundwork for rapprochement. Standing in contrast with governmental animosity were numerous American citizens, especially Vietnam veterans, diligently crossing the Pacific Ocean to help build schools and hospitals, to promote cultural and academic exchange, and to advocate for diplomatic normalization. While their governments’ diplomacy was founded on distrust and political calculations, these ordinary citizens built their relations on trust and compassion that transcended national or political boundaries.

One of the defining episodes of postwar US–Japanese relations was the so-called Girard incident, in which specialist third-class William Girard shot and killed Sakai Naka, a Japanese woman who was picking up shell casings on a US firing range in January 1957. The shooting sparked a diplomatic crisis that shook the US–Japan alliance, leading many historians to situate the incident in the history of the two nations’ diplomatic relations after World War II. This chapter attempts to resituate the incident, in part, by showing that it was only one of at least 200 instances in which US sentries and soldiers fired on Japanese civilians from the start of the Allied Occupation through the beginning of the 1960s.

The complex relationships between Indigenous groups in the area that became New Orleans undergird the ceremony by which Bienville founded the city in 1718, a ceremony that, in turn, presages the first theatrical production in the city in the early nineteenth century. Despite the massive die-off of the Indigenous, especially in the eighteenth century, as European diseases decimated their numbers, they remained visible in the city all the way into the early twentieth century, particularly through the spectacles of sports and craft-marketing and their close association with the well-known Creole missionary and poet, Father Adrien Rouquette.

Chapter 1 revives the traditional view that Sir William Temple had a profound influence on Swift against the recent tendency to underrate Temple. It does so by providing long overdue attention to the most neglected yet most substantial dimension of Temple’s career, literary work, and bequest to Swift: the international dimension. Temple’s teachings as diplomat and foreign policy essayist are primarily responsible for Swift’s heightened awareness of the intersection of domestic and international politics throughout his career. Hence also Swift’s recognition of the interdependence of domestic liberty and international security – the need to preserve liberty through not only constitutional balance but also international balance. This inextricable relationship is often overlooked by scholars focused on the domestic ideological binary of liberty versus authority. It reveals Temple’s and Swift’s shared opposition to domestic political polarization, even at the risk of being falsely accused of favoring absolutist, paternalistic, or arbitrary government.

This chapter introduces the origins and development of international law in the ancient Near East, drawing on cuneiform sources from Mesopotamia, Syria, Anatolia and Iran. It outlines the evolution of political structures from city states to empires over three millennia, highlighting how norms of diplomacy, treaties, trade and warfare were shaped by customary practices rather than codified law. The chapter explores the geographical and historical context, the rediscovery of ancient texts and the role of religion and cosmology in shaping legal and diplomatic thought. It emphasizes the fragmentary yet rich nature of the evidence – treaties, letters and inscriptions – and argues for a coherent tradition of international norms rooted in moral and religious authority. The text also reflects on scholarly debates, including comparisons with biblical traditions and the limitations of Mesopotamian legal thought. Ultimately, it presents the ancient Near East as a foundational context for understanding the early development of international relations and law.

This chapter critically examines the existence and conceptualisation of ‘international law’ in the Greek and Roman world from 600 BC to AD 650. It challenges traditional minimalist views that exclude antiquity from the history of international law and proposes a recalibrated approach grounded in conceptual history. By analysing legal practices, treaties and philosophical notions such as jus gentium and dikaion koinon, the chapter explores how ancient societies regulated interpolity relations. It introduces eight analytical dichotomies – such as inside/outside, city state/empire, and law/non-law – to frame the discussion. Through case studies on war, diplomacy, trade and dispute resolution, the chapter argues that while ancient international law did not exist in a modern sense, it functioned as a prototype for legal norms governing relations between autonomous entities. The chapter concludes that international law in antiquity was not merely a precursor but a meaningful legal system in its own right, shaped by the need to structure a complex and often hostile world.

This chapter explores the existence and nature of international law in the Sasanian Persian Empire, particularly in its relations with Rome and Byzantium. It examines how the Sasanians conceptualized sovereignty, war and diplomacy, and whether they shared legal norms with their Roman counterparts. Drawing on epigraphic, literary and diplomatic sources, the chapter argues that the Sasanians recognized Rome as an equal sovereign power, as reflected in titles, diplomatic language (e.g. ‘brotherhood’), and treaty practices. It also identifies a Sasanian notion akin to the Roman concept of bellum justum, suggesting a shared understanding of just war. The chapter highlights the sophistication of Persian diplomacy, especially in the treaty of AD 561–2, which demonstrates mutual legal procedures, bilingual documentation and protections for religious minorities. These findings support the view that the Sasanian Empire participated in a form of international law, characterised by mutual recognition, legal formalism and evolving norms of coexistence.

Chapter 6 brings in a transnational dimension to the study of China’s image-making in Ethiopia by examining the role of the West in conditioning this encounter. Drawing on interviews with core participants in Chinese initiatives, including Ethiopian elites and Chinese diplomatic professionals, the analysis reveals their shared aspirations for the West, and especially for the United States. Ethiopian participants tend to treat the West as a quality marker, and China as a secondary choice, and at times even as a pathway to experiencing the West. Ironically, Chinese soft power promoters also appear to uphold and aspire to Western hierarchies and use Ethiopia and Africa as a channel toward more desired professional destinations in the West. While Chinese official narratives invoke competition with the West, the actual participants in the Sino-African encounter still strive to be part of it.

Chapter 4 engages with China’s ideational power as part of its image-making in Ethiopia, and more broadly in Africa. The chapter directly speaks to the ongoing debates about the export of the China model to the Global South by delving into the content of and perceptions toward China’s official training programs of African elites. Rather than exporting a model, I find that Chinese educators and officials attempt to legitimize China’s governance (both domestic and global) and to show off China. The actual delivery of these trainings carries some consistency, such as the presentation of China as an alternative type of democracy, as well as some arbitrary content diffusion in specific governance domains like journalism. Far from passively buying into the “China model,” Ethiopian participants soften their perceptions of China, but also negotiate and reject some of its persuasion narratives and strategies.