Different sociological approaches claiming a close relation to pragmatism have developed over recent decades, emphasizing situated action, the interpretive and reflexive capacities of actors, and their social capabilities. These so-called pragmatic conceptions have often been presented as an alternative to the structuralism that dominated previous decades. Without ignoring the differences between the two approaches, this article seeks to show not only that they can both be usefully applied to the same object, but also that they can be integrated into a unified theoretical framework. The argument is based on recent empirical work devoted to the study of commercial exchange, in particular the relation between price and value. The pragmatic study of exchange situations makes it possible to identify different forms of valuation that are both embedded into the cognitive resources of actors and objectified in arrangements around commodities. From a structural point of view, these forms of valuation can be considered a “transformation group,” in the sense described by Claude Lévi-Strauss. However, this cognitive structuralism cannot help us to understand the changes undergone by these forms over historical time. For this, we must call on another type of structuralism, which might be labeled “systemic” structuralism. This proposes narratives that aim to establish chains of causality between local processes of commodification and the evolutions of capitalism at a global level.

Should we consider, along with the great specialist Patrick Manning, that “the field of slavery studies has become a model of comparatism in social and economic history”? This depends on what we mean by the term “comparatism,” which has come to denote approaches as different in their methods as they are varied, and even contradictory, in their goals. Since the end of the 1990s, the global history of slavery has highlighted the epistemological naivety of a certain comparatist tradition that understands slavery from the perspective of its institutions, and not as a dynamic process resulting from specific historical conditions. It is nevertheless important to identity the limits of such a “global” approach when it claims to be the only method capable of defining slavery throughout history. After reviewing the theoretical challenges that traverse the contemporary historiography of slavery, this article seeks to show what a “morphological” comparatist approach, using redefined scales of observation, methods, and goals, can contribute to the study of one particular society: Athens during the Classical period. By looking at a specific organization of servile labor common to numerous slave societies, in which a slave tied to the running of a piece of land, a workshop, or a commercial store made regular payments to his master, it is possible to reinterrogate some fundamental aspects of the institution of slavery in ancient Athens.

This paper, grounded in a critical reading of Alain Corbin’s recent History of Silence, proposes a twofold development. The first part is methodological, arguing for the necessity of studying the acoustic phenomena of the past in a way that is distinct from emotion and does not focus solely on conveying experience. The historiography of the notion of “soundscapes,” invented by musicologist Raymond Murray Schafer, is used to assess the contribution of “sound studies,” “sensory history,” and the anthropology of the senses. The heuristic capacities of this notion are emphasized, as is the need to locate it within a coherent topographical and chronological framework. The second section of the article develops a case study based on these methodological prescriptions, focusing on silence in the religious rites of ancient Rome. The acoustic frame of ritual perfection, silentium was also a category of Roman religious law and very far from the quest for interiority and spiritual life that Corbin considers a natural part of silence. An analysis of the nature and function of silence in two different rites, taking the auspices and sacrifice, confirms the need for a thorough and contextualized historical approach to acoustic phenomena: behind a unified terminology lie two radically different acoustic realities.

By tracing the history of what French colonizers considered a conspiracy against them, this paper seeks to reconstruct the complexity of the first phase of colonial occupation in Zinder (Niger) during the early twentieth century. It draws on three types of source, corresponding to three successive moments and to three different perspectives on the event: the archives of the colonial investigation, carried out by French officers to justify their action; the personal journals and notes of the interpreter Moïse Landeroin, who did not believe the accusations and opposed his superiors; and finally the letters written in Arabic by one of the defendants, Malam Yaro, to plead his innocence. These letters enable a new reading of what took place in 1906 by highlighting the social intricacies of Zinder society. Using more diverse sources thus makes it possible to reconstruct the different timelines of the occupation and to reveal the blind spots of a purely colonial interpretation of the event.

The terms “native farm” and “Roman villa,” often contrasted by historians, stem from a long-standing and still-unsettled historiographical debate. In northern Gaul, they particularly evoke the work of Roger Agache, whose aerial surveys showed a landscape populated by large villae that were readily interpreted as great aristocratic estates in contrast to small native settlements. This view became more or less dominant, giving the impression that the Roman conquest swiftly and radically altered the agrarian system of northern Gaul. In spite of many attempts to correct it, the idea of an agricultural economy based on the production of large estates remains widely accepted among historians. This article offers a reminder of how difficult it is to apprehend the complex situation of ancient rural landscapes through the lens of Classical sources. It then goes on to consider the recent contribution of development-led archaeology and the interpretative problems posed by the intermeshing of numerous rural settlements whose size and luxury are not necessarily relevant indicators of productivity.

The notion of the Anthropocene has arrived so rapidly on the political and academic scene that it is sometimes difficult to orient oneself amid the mass of publications and events, or even to situate the different arguments presented. This article proposes to take a step back by examining the effects of this concept on historians’ notion of time. In the absence of a sociological and intellectual study providing a precise map of the actors and places involved, a genealogical approach can reveal a certain number of conceptual displacements that have occurred since the idea was first proposed. In particular, the passage from geological time to historical time has transformed the nature of the Anthropocene as event. Furthermore, the response of the humanities and social sciences has been critical, revealing the tension between the Anthropocene as a label and forum for discussion, and the Anthropocene as an analytical frame applied to empirical studies. Finally, while applying the notion of period to the Anthropocene poses a certain number of difficulties (teleology, the return to a Western-centered vision of the global, the synchronization of history, etc.), the pluralization of thresholds and temporal breaks appears to enrich the writing of history, opening up new avenues of research receptive to materiality and to non-human actors.

When, how, and why—if at all—did slavery end in the Nigerien Sahel? What processes facilitated the emancipation of enslaved persons? What were the strategies of colonial administrators, slave-owners, slave-traders, slaves, and slave descendants? In the first two decades following France’s occupation of the Central Sahel, legal abolition did not lead to the suppression of slavery, because laws were not at first enforced. But in the 1920s the internationalization of abolitionism that followed the creation of the League of Nations resulted in the activation of anti-slavery laws. This article argues that emancipation was initially propelled by the establishment of international surveillance mechanisms with the power to (de-)legitimize colonial rule at a time when no one was actively seeking to end slavery in this region. The first section highlights the ambiguities of European abolitionism and reveals the web of connections between the League of Nations, the French state, and French administrators on the ground. The second section develops a microanalysis of slave resistance, showing how some enslaved and trafficked persons, especially young women, profited from global institutional transformations to incriminate their owners and traffickers. The final section considers the contemporary recollections of an elderly woman, who in her youth experienced circumstances analogous to those described earlier in the article. Her perceptions, and those of others like her, exist today in a context marked by tension between circumscribed proslavery discourses and national grassroots abolitionism.

While ancient texts contain many descriptions of soundscapes, early medieval literature remains largely silent. How can we explain the dwindling references to sound following the passage from antiquity to the early Middle Ages? Does this “silencing of the world” point to an alteration of the “objective” soundscape induced by changes in the material and physical environment, or does it indicate a deeper shift in the aural culture of the period? If there is reason to suppose that the decline in noise can be partly explained by an overall change in infrastructures, this transformation cannot account for the growing scarcity of sound references in the literature of the time. In order to understand this phenomenon, one must focus on the didactic character of hagiographic literature and on the theological motivations of its authors, whose goal was to sensitize their flock to a “sacred sonography.”

Representing a new disciplinary orientation, the archaeology of construction is defined as the study of all material traces furnishing information about the design, the construction, and the organization of a building. It thus offers a way of broadening our approach to Roman architecture, until now considered mainly from the perspective of monumental and decorative typologies. This article aims to set out its various specificities and potential contributions. While the archaeology of construction has clear methodological links with the archaeology of standing structures, notably through the vertical stratigraphy of elevations, it is distinguished by its scale of study, which covers the entirety of the worksite and seeks to restitute its context of production and its dynamics. Seven elements are considered, illustrated by recent archaeological research: the initial project, the preparation of the site, the setting up of infrastructure, the production of materials, their transformation, their implementation in the construction, and finally the finishing and decorative operations. The data collected make it possible to combine an archaeology of technology with socioeconomic history, considering the building process in all its interactions with Roman society as a system of production and trade.

This article aims to shed light on the emergence of the Anthropocene as a concept within the social sciences and philosophy. It frames this evolution in the wider context of a crisis of knowledge, confronted with the need to consider global climate change as both an empirical ground and an inescapable political horizon. The central hypothesis is that the organization of knowledge concerning the relationships between modernity and nature has undergone a profound shift over the last decade, necessitating a reconfiguration of the two main concepts on which this knowledge relied: risk and limits. To consider the present situation through the concept of the Anthropocene is to imply that the rationality of risk (i.e., the suspension of modern political autonomy) and the notion of a fundamental limit to material development can no longer be considered separately. In the final part of the article, this hypothesis makes it possible to discuss some aspects of our current epistemological configuration.

The fabric of a city represents a transformation of raw geological materials into a complex assemblage of new, human-made minerals and rocks such as steel, glass, plastics, concrete, brick, and ceramics. This activity has been considered in terms of an “urban metabolism,” with day-to-day inflows and outflows of people, food, water, and waste materials. Here we adopt a longer time-scale spanning years to millennia, related to geological time-scales but still meaningful for present and future generations of humans, and consider cities as sedimentary systems. In natural sedimentary systems, flows of materials are governed by natural forces such as climate and gravity, and leave physical records in, for instance, river-strata. In cities, the flows of geological materials needed for construction and reconstruction are directed by humans, and are largely powered by the fossil energy stored in hydrocarbons rather than by gravity or the sun. The resultant assemblages of anthropogenic rocks and minerals may be thought of as sedimentary (and/or trace-fossil) systems that can undergo fossilization and now exist on a planetary scale. Far more diverse than natural geological strata, they are also evolving much more rapidly, not least in terms of their growing waste products. Considering cities through such a perspective may become increasingly useful as they come to be influenced by, and need to adapt to, the changing conditions of the emerging Anthropocene epoch.

The first thirty years of the French conquest of Algeria witnessed the large-scale destruction of Algiers’s cultural heritage. Researching the processes by which this came about leads us to consider the conditions of production of two sources that refer to the period before the conquest: Les édifices religieux de l’ancien Alger (The Religious Edifices of Old Algiers), by Albert Devoulx, and the “Ottoman collection” of archives initially established by the same figure. This dual archaeology, based on the reconstitution of Devoulx’s activities during his lifetime, reveals a virulent struggle over civic rights and particularly over the appropriation of endowments established by the city’s religious institutions. The sources considered here were part and parcel of this struggle. By paying attention to the claims they set out and the interactions between them, it becomes possible to retrace the disappearance of the mosques of Algiers and to appreciate the true nature of these sources.

The artist Matteo Giovannetti, originally from Viterbo, arrived at the papal court of Avignon in the early 1340s. During the reign of pope Clement VI (1342–1352), he succeeded in organizing a court-based workshop of an unprecedented size, which has left numerous traces in the papal administrative archives. This exceptional documentation makes it possible to reconstruct the administrative, financial, material, and technical phases of this workshop’s development, corresponding to the increasing affirmation of Matteo’s artistic position. As well as his mastery of the new Italian visual culture, Matteo drew on innovative techniques in fresco production, project management, and bookkeeping. Studying his workshop thus shines a light on the figure of the artist, at once craftsman, courtier, and entrepreneur. It also reveals the collective and material dimension of creative labor in fourteenth-century Europe.

An absolute masterpiece of linear perspective as well as a true icon of the Renaissance, Piero della Francesca’s Flagellation of Christ (conserved at the Galleria Nazionale delle Marche in Urbino) is one of the greatest enigmas of the Italian Quattrocento. Uncertainty surrounds not only the date and the original intended location of the painting, but also the subject matter itself. Despite long-running disputes about the overall significance of the picture, and in particular about the identification of the three figures in the right foreground, the Flagellation remains an unsolved puzzle. Continuing in a rich and varied hermeneutic tradition, this article proposes a new interpretation of this famous painting, diverging both from a political reading (based on the supposed links with the Byzantine Empire) and from the other traditional solution which argues for the ordinary nature of Piero’s iconography. The analysis of the geometrical pictorial space and its potential theological significance leads to a reconsideration of the painting as a visual meditation on temporality inspired by Saint Augustine, as well as a singular spiritual exercise.

A close study of the trans-Mediterranean legal conflicts prompted by the death of a former Tunisian minister in Florence in 1887, this article calls for a new interpretation of the history of modern North Africa. Rather than focusing on a close reading of colonial primary sources or depending on a single colonial temporality, this new interpretation must incorporate other analytical frameworks. It must also consider the overlap of French and Ottoman imperial temporalities that persisted across the Mediterranean until the 1920s, as well as the increasing number of litigations initiated before the French colonization of Tunisia—legal cases that were still influencing the rationales of North Africans during the colonial period. Analyzing these litigations not only in terms of their colonial context but also according to other temporalities, as well as diversifying our sources, allows us to nuance the commonplace, often reiterated in scholarly works on colonial North Africa, that there is a dearth of so-called “local” documentation. North African men and women involved in litigations contributed alongside Europeans to the writing of a huge amount of legal evidence and literary tracts, including in Arabic. Such sources were not always filed in the colonial archive. They are, however, of paramount importance for conceiving the modern history of North Africa in new ways.

The increasingly pressing need to politicize ecology depends on our capacity to conduct a critique of modern politics, reexamining its fundamental concepts and its history. This thesis, developed in Bruno Latour’s most recent book, Facing Gaia, raises the question of what kind of critique is best adapted to this end. This article seeks to address this question by tracing the arguments of Facing Gaia and its recomposition of the relations between science, politics, and religion. These relations, which are constitutive of the experience of modernity, appear differently depending on the conception of collectives that one emphasizes and how one understands their anchoring in their environment. Unlike Latour, this essay argues that it is within the framework of modern societies, understood as an entirely new kind of collective whose history has been distorted and ignored by modernist ideology, that a conception of a specifically ecological justice must be formulated. The critique that is necessary to the politicization of ecology implies a new way of determining the actors involved in the environmental crisis, breaking the particular ties that modernity has forged between societies, the forms of self-awareness they produce as they develop, and the expectations of justice that result from them.

Based on Florian Mazel’s book L’évêque et le territoire. L’invention médiévale de l’espace (ve–xiiie siècle), this article seeks to revisit the spatial turn that has marked medieval studies in France over the last thirty years. Historians of dominium in the feudal period draw on the phenomena of incastellamento or inecclesiamento to suggest a territorial anchoring of populations around the “poles” or “cells” of domination represented by the castle, the church, the cemetery, and the parish. Mazel, however, offers a reflection on another scale. He sees territory as a space for the expression of political sovereignty, with the Church and its establishment of a new form of spatiality—the diocese—preceding the state as an institution realized via a territorial construction. Through its focus on the diocese, this analysis concentrates on a scale which makes sense within a general hierarchical dynamic of ecclesial spatialization, from top to bottom, from local to universal. But it also and above all enables an interrogation of how the territorial practices of the medieval Church made possible the transition to space in the modern, homogeneous and isotropic, sense.