This chapter considers how Severan jurists responded to political crisis. After describing the political dynamics that made jurists such important players in Severan administration, I discuss two rhetorical features of Severan juristic writing: Severan jurists’ tendency to describe jurisprudence in terms of its beneficial effects on the world rather than its elegance or internal morality, and their increasing use of anonymous citational forms like “emperors have written” rather than citing individual authorities by name. These maneuvers reconstructed imperial lawmaking as a static, impersonal field of knowledge and made interpretation, the job of the jurist, into the critical act that constituted Roman legality.

This chapter examines private architecture in Late Antiquity, focusing on the evolution of domestic structures and their role in social, political and religious life. It explores various building types, including domus, villas, insulae, palatia, praetoria and episcopia. The chapter argues that private architecture during this period was highly diverse, reflecting both continuity and transformation. While wealthy residences – whether aristocratic homes, episcopal residences or governor’s palaces – shared similar monumental features such as triclinia, courtyards, baths, and reception halls, often blurring the distinction between private and official spaces, imperial palaces frequently evolved from earlier residential buildings. At the same time, Christian bishops adapted aristocratic architectural models for their own use. Overall, archaeological evidence suggests that private architecture played a crucial role in expressing social status and power, with the design and decoration of homes reinforcing elite identity. At the same time, this study highlights how the economic and political shifts of Late Antiquity shaped domestic architecture, leading to both the persistence of elite housing and the gradual decline of multi-family insulae.

This chapter analyzes the Republic’s theory of the tripartite soul regarding the question of self-rule and autonomy. Only when the soul is in the ideal position of having reason positioned as sovereign ruler can a person be seen as acting autonomously. But it is not clear that when reason rules, it also motivates actions. Christine M. Korsgaard has argued that personal decision-making should be seen as analogous to political decision-making. She conceives of political decisions as a process where requests for action spring from the people, while rulers suffice to say yes or no. This chapter claims that this analysis is inadequate as a theory of how Plato portrays the relationship between the parts of the soul and of decision-making in general, and offers an alterantive interpreation in terms of what is called the Complex Model of Decision-Making.

This chapter explores Jewish iconography in Late Antiquity, focusing on the evolution of visual representations in synagogue art and everyday objects. Drawing on archaeological remains from ancient Palestine and the Diaspora, it examines architectural decorations, mosaics, wall paintings and interior furnishings. Analysis of these remains reveals that Jewish iconography was not static but evolved dynamically in response to broader Graeco-Roman and early Christian artistic traditions. The chapter illustrates this by demonstrating how synagogue ornamentation combined traditional Jewish symbols – such as the menorah, Torah shrine and ritual objects – with motifs borrowed from surrounding cultures, including mythological figures and zodiac imagery. It also engages with the long-standing debate on aniconism in Judaism, arguing that figurative art was more prevalent than previously assumed. Emphasising that Jewish art served both religious and communal functions, the chapter highlights how it reinforced Jewish identity during a period of cultural transition.

This chapter examines the role of technology in Late Antiquity. It challenges the traditional view that the period was marked by technological stagnation. It argues that instead of focusing solely on innovation, historians should consider the continued use, adaptation and repurposing of existing technologies. It also highlights the survival and refinement of older methods, emphasising that technological choices were often influenced by social, political and environmental factors rather than pure efficiency. One of the chapter’s central discussions focuses on military technology, particularly the development of catapults. Analysing textual sources such as Vegetius’ Epitoma rei militaris and De rebus bellicis alongside archaeological evidence, the study reveals that military engineering remained highly sophisticated. The construction of catapults, their adaptation for different battlefield scenarios, and the organisation of state-run fabricae (weapons workshops) demonstrate that technological knowledge continued to be refined. Additionally, the chapter critiques the historiographical tendency to equate technological progress with economic growth, arguing that many technological decisions were driven by factors beyond economics. It concludes that Late Antiquity was not a period of decline but one of transformation, in which technological continuity and adaptation played a crucial role in maintaining societal structures.

This chapter examines the development of early Christian iconography, tracing how visual representations evolved between the third and fifth centuries. It explores a wide range of materials, including paintings, relief sculptures, mosaics, inscriptions and artefacts such as sarcophagi, lamps and glassware. Historical texts are also incorporated to provide context for the meanings behind Christian imagery. The chapter argues that early Christian art did not emerge in isolation but was heavily influenced by Roman artistic traditions. Many motifs, such as the Good Shepherd and the story of Jonah, were borrowed from Graeco-Roman visual culture and reinterpreted with Christian significance. It also addresses the debate over the absence of explicitly Christian imagery in the first two centuries CE, suggesting that early Christians likely relied on religiously ambiguous symbols before developing a distinct visual language. The discussion then shifts to the impact of imperial Christianity in the fourth century, which led to more monumental depictions of Christ, often portraying him as a ruler rather than a humble shepherd. Finally, the chapter highlights the crucial role of funerary art in shaping Christian visual culture, noting that many early depictions survived in catacombs and sarcophagi, reinforcing beliefs in salvation and resurrection.

The Ptolemaic basilissa’s body was a significant subject in royal art, appearing across various kinds of visual and material culture. In this chapter, I explore the different ways that Ptolemaic royal women “wore” the female body in their representations. By attending to how the royal female body was conceptualized, visualized, and materialized, I examine the importance of corporeality to Ptolemaic queenship. By the first quarter of the third century, figural representations of Ptolemaic royal women were proliferated via objects that circulated across the waterscapes and landscapes of Egypt and the eastern Mediterranean and were carved onto surfaces of colossal architecture for various viewing communities. One of the most striking aspects of the material record for the Ptolemaic dynasty is the relatively large number of extant figural representations of royal women – consisting of temple reliefs, statues in the round, mosaics, glyptic arts, and other luxury portable objects – compared to that of other Hellenistic dynasties.

This chapter examines late antique Armenia, focusing on its architectural developments, Christianisation and regional influences. It traces the evolution of Armenian church architecture between the fourth and seventh centuries, emphasising connections with Rome, Persia and Byzantium. The chapter discusses key archaeological findings, including churches, funerary monuments and inscriptions. Major sites like the basilica of Ereroykʿ, the church of Hṙipʿsimē and the patriarchal complexes of Duin and Zuartʿnocʿ reveal a shift from simple basilicas to complex domed designs. The chapter discusses innovations such as tetraconch and triconch plans and explores the role of elite patronage in church construction, as seen in the princely complex of Aruč. Rather than depicting Armenia as an isolated frontier, it argues that its architecture reflects strong ties with Syrian, Byzantine and Iranian traditions. Sculptural decoration, inscriptions and building techniques illustrate these cultural exchanges. While political shifts influenced construction, ongoing excavations continue to shape our understanding of Armenia’s late antique landscape. The chapter stresses the need for further archaeological research, particularly in under-explored areas, to provide a fuller picture of the region’s historical development.

The fourth century was a time of sweeping political, cultural, and social transformations, including profound changes in dynastic art. One such major change was that dynastic women began to appear in public art throughout the eastern Mediterranean, just before the military conquests of Alexander III. Fourth-century dynastic women were publicly active and could take on politically important roles, usually alongside their husbands or kings: they quelled arguments, arranged marriages for the poor, helped facilitate cases of manumission, and participated in royal spectacles, to name only a handful of examples. But what can their representations in public art tell us about the conceptual and political contours of dynastic femininity in the early fourth century? In this chapter, I examine the ways in which dynastic women from Lycia, Sparta, Caria, and Macedon figured as both subjects and patrons in monuments, using sculptural fragments, bases, inscriptions, and surviving textual records. Each of the select monuments under analysis illuminates how different communities represented the idealized dynastic woman – that is, a woman in close proximity to networks of power through marriage or by blood. As such, my examination of these examples will contribute to our understanding of the strategies that rulers developed to express dynastic legitimacy and continuity on the one hand and the ways in which non-dynastic people perceived queenship and its political contours via their own dedications of and engagements with representations of dynastic women on the other.

Representations of royal and dynastic women were not limited to honorific portrait statues in the Hellenistic world. In different regions of the vast Seleucid Empire, dynasts and subjects could evoke the presence of royal women through highly choreographed ephemeral spectacles and ritualized performances. Moreover, figural representations of queenly faces cannot easily or exclusively be interpreted as portraits of specific Seleucid queens. Rather, my analyses approach these queenly faces as potent symbols that communicated information about the Seleucid dynasty and ideas about Seleucid queenship. Here, I turn my focus to these diverse representational practices, as well as to images of queenly faces on crowns, coins, and sealings.

This chapter focuses on the urban and rural landscapes of the Balkans in Late Antiquity, covering modern-day Albania, Bosnia and Herzegovina, Bulgaria, Croatia, Greece, Kosovo, Montenegro, North Macedonia, Romania, Serbia and Slovenia . It examines how cities and countryside areas evolved between the third and seventh centuries, with a particular emphasis on the material traces of early Christianity. The chapter draws on archaeological evidence, historical texts and urban planning studies to highlight the transformation of key cities such as Thessaloniki, Nicopolis ad Istrum and Serdica (modern Sofia). This contribution argues that the Balkans served as a cultural and political bridge between Asia and Europe, influencing the spread of Christianity and shaping imperial policies. It also explores how urban centres adapted to economic shifts and military threats, with some cities reinforcing their fortifications while others declined. Thessaloniki, for instance, maintained its urban layout and economic role, even as certain Roman public buildings fell out of use. Religious change also played a crucial role in shaping the Balkan landscape. Christian basilicas replaced pagan temples, while monasteries and bishopric centres became focal points for local governance and cultural life. The chapter further addresses the challenges of dating archaeological sites, emphasising the need for more precise chronological frameworks.

This chapter discusses the emergence of the rescript system – a paradigm in which emperors used correspondence to settle legal questions – over the second century CE. This paradigm is most closely linked with the emperor Hadrian, and I consider three major legal innovations from Hadrian’s reign: Hadrian replacing the annually renewed Praetor’s Edict with a Perpetual Edict under more formal imperial control, Hadrian sunsetting the “right of response” which had formerly been given to individual jurists, and Hadrian’s vast expansion of the imperial bureaucracy and correspondence system. I then consider how imperial legal replies, or “rescripts,” could represent imperial sovereignty in a variety of different modes, from the collaborative and deliberative style of the Diui Fratres to the more bureaucratic and concise mode visible in documents like P.Col.123.

This chapter examines the urban development of Constantinople in Late Antiquity, tracing its transformation from a small Greek settlement into the capital of the Eastern Roman Empire. It focuses on three major phases of construction: Constantine’s foundation (324–37), the Theodosian expansion (379–450) and Justinian’s rebuilding efforts (527–65). The study explores key infrastructure projects, including city walls, forums, aqueducts, palaces, churches and harbours, demonstrating how these developments reshaped the city’s urban landscape. A central theme is the political and symbolic role of architecture in establishing Constantinople’s imperial identity. Constantine’s expansion laid the foundation for a monumental capital, incorporating existing Severan structures while introducing new landmarks such as the Forum of Constantine. The Theodosian period witnessed the construction of the formidable land walls and major religious buildings, further solidifying the city’s status as a Christian metropolis. Under Justinian, Constantinopolitan architecture reached its peak, with the reconstruction of Hagia Sophia serving as a defining moment in Byzantine building traditions. The chapter also addresses archaeological challenges, noting that while much of the ancient city has been lost due to war and modern urban development, ongoing excavations continue to provide valuable insights into Constantinople’s late antique transformation.