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.

This chapter addresses the question of how to understand Socrates’ willingness to obey the law and accept the death penalty in the Crito, seemingly in contrast to his rebellious attitude towards legal authority in the Apology. Its aim is to show that in submitting to the laws of Athens, Socrates does not betray his own ideal of self-government, in the sense of personal autonomy and freedom, which he explains and defends in several dialogues. However, it argues that Socrates conceives of self-government as the freedom to subject oneself to what used to be an external authority, but in such a way that this authority now becomes an integral part of one’s own moral stance. In order to throw further light on this issue, it also draws upon the discussion of the rule of law in the Statesman, where the notion of self-government similarly plays an important role.

For the Attalid dynasty, royal mothers were central figures in royal monuments and public honors. While other dynasties I have discussed thus far – the Argeads, Ptolemies, and Seleucids – likewise stressed the importance of maternal qualities in queens through their emphasis on fertility, continuity of a dynastic line, and care for subjects and communities, much of the Attalid kingdom’s dynastic monument-building stressed the queen’s role as a mother, and all that entailed. So much so that the Attalid queen’s maternal qualities were even highlighted in monuments commemorating military victory and dynastic kingship. This emphasis not only augmented Attalid themes of “self-conscious filial, fraternal, and conjugal ‘values’” of monarchy, as scholars have already explored, but also articulated key notions of Attalid queenship. In this chapter, I build on this robust scholarship by considering how the Attalid royal mother (as well as other queenly and maternal figures) fit into visual narratives and monument landscapes of divine and dynastic triumph, and how this figure shaped cultic life and commemorative practices.

In his Republic, Plato claims that we always do whatever we do in pursuit of the good. But in Book IV of the Republic, Plato shows that people can have attractions and aversive reactions at the same time toward the same objects or actions. In this essay, I argue that Plato’s recognition and use of aversion as a motivating response cannot be squared with what I call his ‘motivational monism’, that is, with the view that the pursuit of the good is the only thing that motivates us. Rather, as Plato’s own arguments show clearly, sometimes we don’t pursue what is good; instead, we act so as to avoid what is bad. I contend that this negative motivation cannot be wholly understood in terms of our positive interest in what is good.

This chapters argues that Plato’s notion of personal autonomy is closely linked to his understanding of the social dimension of rational deliberation. It begins with an assessment of Miranda Fricker’s influential account of epistemic authority and social power and raises some objections against the discursive notion of reason she develops. To substantiate these objections, it turns to Plato’s Cratylus and to Socrates’ analysis of logos as a language mediated form of rational deliberation. It argues that while Socrates suggests that the constitutive parts of language, the names (ta onomata), are ambivalent and deceptive, leaving discursive reason in doubt, Plato, at the same time, shows that it nevertheless can function to identify unwarranted claims of epistemic authority, as a form of codependent philosophical conversation. From this emerges a notion of Platonic autonomy closely tied to Plato’s analysis of the social dimension of rational deliberation and its embodiment in the Platonic dialogue.

Plato’s Socratic dialogues depict Socrates as advocating for two conflicting requirements. Socrates sometimes says that a non-expert is required to retain autonomy and to think for herself. On other occasions he suggests that the non-expert is required to defer to the expert’s opinion. This paper offers a way to resolve the tension between these requirements. For Socrates, both intellectual requirements are dependent on the one’s intellectual aim. Socrates thinks that one is required to think independently if one’s aim is to acquire the expertise that the interlocutor professes to have. However, if one’s aim is simply to make a correct decision in a particular situation, one is required to defer to an expert opinion. If one’s epistemic aim determines which requirement one should comply with, then, for Socrates, what counts as a reason for belief is sometimes dependent on one’s (epistemic) aim.

In the Republic, Socrates sets up rational self-rule, archein hautou, as the ideal state, with what we might call rational other-rule as second best (590d3-5). This paper will focus on the role of dialectic in the process of establishing self-rule from two perspectives: an agent having been raised by an educational program under ideal political conditions, focusing on the Republic; and an agent trying to engage in philosophical self-improvement under non-ideal political conditions, focusing on the Hippias Major. This may be seen as a contrast between a top-down and a bottom-up approach to establishing rational self-rule. My thesis is that, in both cases, an intermediate or provisional form of rational self-rule needs to be established in order to achieve full self-rule, and that, in both approaches, the provisional state of rational self-rule shares some important features of the final state of rational self-rule, what we might call wisdom, but these are different features in the two cases.

This chapter explores the archaeology of late antique Syria, emphasising its historical significance and research challenges. Syria has one of the highest concentrations of late antique sites, particularly in the Limestone Massif, yet modern national borders obscure historical connections with Lebanon, Jordan and Turkey. Drawing on historical texts, travel accounts and archaeological surveys, the chapter traces the development of research from early European explorers to twentieth-century French-led excavations. It examines the influence of colonial mandates and political changes, including the impact of the Syrian civil war on archaeological preservation. A central argument is that late antique Syria has been overlooked in favour of earlier Roman and later Islamic studies. Limited excavations, instability and destruction have further hindered research. However, the chapter stresses the importance of studying Syria’s role in connecting the Roman, Persian and early Islamic worlds. Instead of focusing solely on elite monuments, the chapter calls for research on everyday settlements to provide a fuller picture of Syrian society during Late Antiquity.

The Encyclopaedia of Late Antique Art and Archaeology seeks to fill a significant gap in historical research by placing art and archaeology at the forefront of late Roman and late antique studies. Recognising the need for a comprehensive and accessible reference, this work moves beyond the traditional focus on ‘early Christian archaeology’ to adopt a broader perspective. It highlights the dynamic interplay of Christianity, Judaism and Islam, challenging outdated notions of a fully Christianised Late Antiquity. Organised into six sections – architecture and iconography, artefacts and material evidence, urbanism and rural landscapes, regional and ethnic diversity, and key issues and debates – the encyclopaedia offers a structured, in-depth exploration of the field. With contributions from leading scholars, it synthesises archaeological discoveries to challenge narratives of decline, instead presenting Late Antiquity as an era of transformation and cultural fusion.