The reflections on civilization, barbarism, and their intricate relationship, which were put forward in ancient Greece, from Herodotus to Aristotle, had a longterm impact. In the mid-16th century debate which took place in Valladolid, between Juan Ginés de Sepúlveda and Bartolomé de Las Casas, about the status of the native populations of the New World, the Latin translations of Aristotle’s Politics, and its comment by St. Thomas Aquinas, proved to be especially relevant for both opponents. Were Indian natives comparable to (...) Aristotle’s “natural slaves”? Was the war against them comparable to hunting wild beasts? The paper focuses on the debate and its contemporary implications. (shrink)

This is the story of the clattering of elevated subways and the cacophony of crowded neighborhoods, the heady optimism of industrial progress and the despair of economic recession, and the vibrancy of ethnic cultures and the resilience of ...

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)

The author describes his research experience in the 1960s, as an apprentice historian, in the Warburg Library. His work on witchcraft trials in early modern Italy, he argues, was deeply affected by the Library's unique character. Aby Warburg's law of the “good neighbour” is illustrated through a specific example: the encounter with a forgotten tract dealing with some anomalous Bavarian witchcraft trials — a book that would have been very difficult to come across anywhere but Warburg's Library.

In this introduction to a Common Knowledge special issue on the Warburg Institute, the authors argue that the Institute remains today — as it has been, in different forms, for almost a century — one of Europe's central institutions for the study of cultural history. At once a rich and uniquely organized library, a center for doctoral and postdoctoral research, and a teaching faculty, the Institute was first envisioned by Aby Warburg, a pioneering historian of art and culture from a (...) wealthy Jewish family in Hamburg. Warburg rejected the traditional view that the classical tradition was a simple, purely rational Greek creation, inherited by modern Europe. He argued that it was as much Mesopotamian as Greek in origin, as at home in the Islamic as in the European world, and as often irrational as rational in its content — and on the basis of this rich vision he devised brilliant new interpretations of medieval and Renaissance symbols and ideas. Warburg's chosen associate Fritz Saxl put his creation on a firm institutional base, first in Hamburg and then, after a narrow escape from the Nazi regime, in London. For all the changes the Institute has undergone over the decades since then, it continues to ask the questions that Warburg was the first to raise and to build on the methods that he created. (shrink)

The author describes his research experience in the 1960s as an apprentice historian in the Warburg Library. His work on witchcraft trials in early modern Italy, he argues, was deeply affected by the library’s unique character. Aby Warburg’s law of the “good neighbor” is illustrated through a specific example: the encounter with a forgotten tract dealing with some anomalous Bavarian witchcraft trials — a book that would have been very difficult to come across anywhere but Warburg’s Library.

The author describes his research experience in the 1960s, as an apprentice historian, in the Warburg Library. His work on witchcraft trials in early modern Italy, he argues, was deeply affected by the Library's unique character. Aby Warburg's law of the “good neighbour” (the book we need is placed next to the one we are looking for) is illustrated through a specific example: the encounter with a forgotten tract dealing with some anomalous Bavarian witchcraft trials — a book that would (...) have been very difficult (if not impossible) to come across anywhere but Warburg's Library. (shrink)

The paper focuses on an argument put forward by Augustine in his De doctrina Christiana: there are passages in the Bible that need to be read in a literal, contextual, and ultimately rhetorical perspective. This approach to the Bible was needed to deal with customs—for instance the patriarchs' polygamy—that had to be evaluated, Augustine argued, according to standards different from those prevailing in the present day. This need inspired Augustine to utter some sharp remarks on the need to avoid ethnocentric, (...) anachronistic projections into the Biblical text.The long-term impact of Augustine's argument was profound. The emphasis on the letter played a significant role in the exchanges between Christian and Jewish medieval readings of the Bible, which affected Nicholas of Lyra's influential commentary. The same tradition may have contributed to Valla's and Karlstadt's audacious hermeneutic remarks on the Biblical canon, which covertly or openly focused on contradictions in the Biblical text, questioning the role of Moses as author of Deuteronomy. Traces of those discussions can be detected in Spinoza's Tractatus theologico-politicus. The paper suggests that the emphasis on a literal, contextual reading of the Bible provided a model for secular reading in general. The possible role of this model in the aggressive encounter between Europe and alien cultures is a matter of speculation. (shrink)

This article concerns a silver beaker (now at the Residenzmuseum, Munich) decorated with scenes which seem to be related to the Spanish conquest of Mexico. On the basis of stylistic, iconographic and archival evidence the silversmith is here tentatively identified with an Italian-born artist, Stefano Capello, who is thought to have added a decoration to a pre-existing beaker on the eve of the treaty of Cambrai (3 August 1529). Margaret of Austria, aunt of the emperor Charles V, might have given (...) the beaker as a gift to Louise of Savoy, mother of Francis I, king of France. The article argues, relying upon Warburg’s notion of Pathosformeln (formulas of emotion), that in the early 16th century the New World was perceived and made familiar through an Old World idiom, based on visual formulas taken from classical antiquity and mediated by the Italian Renaissance. (shrink)

De Martino offered Momigliano an opportunity to reflect on his own analogous yet different experience. The connection between the study of prehistory and the threat of the end of the world, and more generally, the idea that we need to respond to today's crisis by enlarging historical research to unknown and unpredictable phenomena might lead us to conclude that, at least momentarily, Momigliano's and De Martino's paths had touched. In reality, however, as Momigliano lucidly saw, theirs were parallel paths that (...) could never meet. Studies that culminated in Il Mondo Magico had carried De Martino, albeit temporarily, outside Croceanism, and toward a more radical historicism immune from ethnocentric limitations, in particular with regard to Cassirer's works. Momigliano's detachment from Croceanism can be located between two divergent statements: that the sun had set on the idea of antiquitates, while also looking forward to the affirmation of a new antiquarianism under the guise of sociology or anthropology. It became increasingly clear as the years passed that for Momigliano all forms of historicism were unacceptable because they were threatened by relativism. (shrink)