In the early twentieth century, Black American theatre pioneers like Paul Laurence Dunbar and Will Marion Cook sought to redefine the stereotypical minstrel figure for white audiences. Their efforts gave rise to the ‘coon’ character, a complex representation of Black urban life that challenged traditional norms while perpetuating some harmful stereotypes. This figure played a significant role in global modernism and shaped discussions about race, appearing in works by Eugene O’Neill and Jean Genet. By the 1960s, Black American artists felt the need to reimagine the ‘coon’ character to align with a more radical political agenda, reflecting the evolving social and cultural landscape that included the advent of Black radical politics and postcolonial thought. The new figure that emerged directly challenged political disenfranchisement and cultural appropriation, creating a theatre that was far more confrontational in its exploration of race.

In this chapter, the contrast between two models of expatriate masculinity developed earlier is brought to a head, with a fresh twist on the history of masculine identity. In retirement William Cooper indulged his passion for global wanderlust at the expense of his family, whereas Edgar Wilson happily abandoned his expatriate frustrations for a conventional model of settled suburban domesticity with his wife in England, spurning the mobile attractions of the cosmopolitanism they had long nurtured, but with Winifred continuing to exercise her public activism and independence. Ironically, the domestic model, rather than William’s continuing mobility, was most closely associated with the lower middle class, recalling Edgar’s origins and early white-collar labours. The disparity is underlined by a tragic account of William’s last years, interned by the Nazis in wartime Paris after an ill-advised excursion across France. Wartime domesticity for Edgar and Winifred was a struggle, only relieved by a comfortable inheritance from William. Winifred’s Will reflected her long commitment to chosen causes like the Mothers’ Union, a statement of her lifetime priorities.

Chapter 23 stresses that four sets of ideas need to be added to the principles and the topics of focus mentioned in Chapter 22. First, neither international order nor national order can be sustainable if the contradiction that exists today between, on the one hand, the celebration of human rights and, on the other hand, the tendency to treat individuals as disposable, deepens or simply persists. Second, the global justice agenda cannot credibly claim to be feasible if it does not factor in the views of the rest of the world. It is imperative to integrate what the non-West thinks. The ownership of a global agenda cannot be lopsided. Third, a cosmopolitan approach does not have to call for the removal or elimination of the state and sovereignty; rather, it is their reconceptualization and the application of this reconceptualization that are recommended. Fourth, institutional innovation will help implement this agenda.

Marcus Aurelius addresses himself as sociable by nature, as someone made to belong to a political community, and as a citizen of the cosmos. The good life for him consists in obeying the gods and cooperating with his fellow citizens in service of the common interest. His fellow citizens are all beings endowed with reason, and as a human he cares for all other people, whoever they may be. The Meditations demonstrate detailed knowledge and agreement with the conceptual foundations of Stoic cosmopolitanism, but specific approaches can be identified. Marcus underscores the organismic and egalitarian nature of the cosmic community and often gives a functional account of his status as a part of the cosmos, while at the same time also suggesting a hierarchical account of degrees of sociability. His rule as emperor he conceives as a personal challenge to live up to the model of his predecessor, Antoninus Pius, also sharing the latter’s conservativism and traditionalism. Marcus’ Stoicism is more apparent in his quest for sincere and truly loving sociability, a striving that finds its limits in the aversion and disappointment Marcus often seems to experience with regard to those around him.

The global imaginary from which cosmopolitanism derives its ideological power has become increasingly dominant. This has set up contradictory responses. Cosmopolitanism is both a core expression and a casualty of our modern/postmodern times. On the one hand, there is a tendency for the intellectually trained to believe that good cosmopolitanism is a necessity in a globalising world. For those people, it does not make sense that positive global exchange between people concerned about fairness and justice should have its nationalist, realist, and provincial critics. On the other hand, there are those who associate cosmopolitanism variously with the abstract emptiness of disembodied globalisation (communitarians), the rapacious consequences of capitalist globalisation (alter-globalism activists), or the assault on certain sections of the national body (right-wing populists). Responding to this tension, this chapter defends a philosophy and ideology that are commonly held while critically and radically reworking its often-assumed precepts, agreeing at least with communitarian and alter-globalist distancing of the easy forms of cosmopolitanism.

The concluding chapter summarizes the book’s main arguments and findings and argues for a global and synchronic study of the Spanish Empire to shed light on the nature and limits of imperial power and colonialism and their specific implementation, particularly in the case of Latin America.

The introduction presents the main arguments and topics discussed throughout the book. It also sketches some critical characteristics of early modern Spanish officials and the global Spanish Empire. Furthermore, it discusses the book’s methodological and theoretical approaches, particularly the challenges of writing a global history from the margins.

Building upon the previous themes, the book’s last chapter highlights the development of Spanish imperial cosmopolitanism, which enabled officials and subjects to make sense of and subsume the heterogeneous societies and regions they encountered and think of the world as one coherent unity. This cosmopolitanism was demarcated by imperial rivalries and officials’ self-perception as Catholic soldiers. Their actions and interactions with other people were read through the lenses of their Catholic identity, which also fostered a sense of Spanish exceptionalism. Moreover, most global interactions and imaginings occurred in areas usually deemed "peripheral," expressing the unity and coherence of the polity despite its dispersion and diversity.

The chapter argues that the domestic judicial application of the Convention on the Rights of the Child (the Convention) is important and in need of systematic attention, especially in light of the Convention’s novelty and special features. The chapter shows that in the absence of prior systematic comparative international studies, it remains relevant to study the judicial application of the Convention through the lens of the formal domestic rules that inform the reception of the Convention in monist, dualist, and hybrid legal systems. The chapter also argues that it is not only these formal factors that affect the judicial application of the Convention, but also the domestic structure of reception wherein the Convention is received. The chapter further explains the selection of a heterogenous sample of jurisdictions, consisting of France, Australia, South Africa, and the United Kingdom, and the use of a comparative international law perspective as a theoretical framework for the book.

Frederik Van Dam argues that the conceptualisation of new, ethical forms of cosmopolitanism in the 1850s is apparent in the informal diplomatic practices of Richard Monckton Milnes, an unduly neglected figure who was central to the literary world of the decade. Milnes’s ‘diplomatic cosmopolitanism’ found expression in his bibliophile activities as well as in his engagement with the legacy of European Romanticism, as can be seen in occasional poems such as ‘A Monument for Scutari’ (1855) and in his reviews of European fiction about Bohemia. Examining how the 1850s marked a new stage in the conduct of international affairs, Van Dam considers developments in the circulation of commodities as well as the breakdown of the so-called concert of Europe. Monckton Milnes embodies the diplomatic possibilities for literature and culture on the eve of a new European order.

In the last decade, states have fixated on policing their borders beyond their territorial limits. This practice, which has been called “shifting borders,” undermines state legitimacy, because the latter depends on how states exercise their power, who they exercise it over, and also on where they exercise it. As the chapter shows, shifting borders generates a tension among rights, territory, and people, where it seems that we can have any two, but not all three. This chapter examines three responses to this tension. First, Sovereigntism seeks to stabilize the relation of people and territory. Second, Democratic Cosmopolitanism tolerates shifts in territory, as long as people and rights remain. Finally, the Watershed Model keeps borders in their place, but it accepts changes in the people, as it decouples democratic governance and rights from a particular national identity. It is argued that, in the long run, this model best handles the challenges in times of planetary crises, such as global poverty and climate change. For the Watershed Model, like the grass-roots movements of indigenous peoples and transnational migrant activists, can redefine territory, allow for human mobility, and resist state overreach in border control.

Avowing that love awakens one’s attention to the material world and to one another, Corinne provides a theory for establishing human–nonhuman connection, the energizing and curative praxis of belonging with. The heroine’s thing therapy positively associates women with materiality and, while exercising her right to connect with things, she sustains her élan vital. This chapter argues that she harnesses her feminist thing theory to teach her lover to respect the female body’s integrity and rights and to challenge his repressive politics: If Oswald could belong with materiality by sensuously responding to things, he could remedy his commitment to abstraction and his nationalistic gender proscriptions. Diagnosing Oswald’s melancholy as also emerging from his identification with “modern” (post Renaissance) art, associated with Napoleon’s tyranny and a self-absorptive grief that paralyzes creative potential, Corinne offers a remedy: companionship with classical art. Her thing theory has political ramifications, for it provides a workshop for practicing an embodied cosmopolitanism that itself ameliorates nationalism’s intolerances.

Haitian poetry experienced a shift, beginning as early as the 1870s, away from nationally inspired themes toward a greater insistence on poetic form and a penchant for contemplative verse. Poets often pondered abstract notions like the passage of time or the mysteries of nature. Other times they chose to write from the anguish of personal experience, mourning the loss of love to death or betrayal. Their melancholic reflections were not necessarily devoid of politics. Poets Virginie Sampeur, Massillon Coicou, and Etzer Vilaire composed their own eclectic poetry years before contributing to the famous journal La Ronde. Theirs is a poetics of ‘disenchantment’, a term that permeates the pages of the journal and characterizes their reactions to Haiti’s distressing domestic and international political situation. I offer an assessment of these three key poets and of the journal, affirming and going beyond the idea of the ‘understated political aspect’ of the movement. I demonstrate that the politics occasioning and emanating from this poetry embody distinctly Haitian calls for literary perseverance, a prescient battle for national preservation to which La Ronde is dedicated.

Many academic and media accounts of the massive spread of English across the globe since the mid-twentieth century rely on simplistic notions of globalization mostly driven by technology and economic developments. Such approaches neglect the role of states across the globe in the increased usage of English and even declare individual choice as a key factor (e.g., De Swaan, 2001; Crystal, 2003; Van Parijs, 2011; Northrup, 2013). This chapter challenges these accounts by using and extending the state traditions and language regimes framework, STLR (Cardinal & Sonntag, 2015). Presenting empirical findings that 142 countries in the world mandate English language education as part of their national education systems, it is suggested there are important similarities with the standardization of national language at the nation-state level especially in the nineteenth century and early twentieth centuries. This work reveals severe limitations of other approaches in political science to global English, including linguistic justice. It is shown how in the case of global English the convergence of diverse language regimes must be distinguished from state traditions but cannot be separated from them. With the severe challenges to global liberal cosmopolitanism, the role of individual state language education policies will become increasingly important.