The relationship of Catholic hierarchies with the medium of printing has always been multifarious, and even in early modern times it was far more complex than most current studies maintain. This chapter attempts to draw a concise and unbiased picture of the papacy’s publishing and censoring practices from the 1460s to the 1630s. It starts with the arrival of the first printers in Italy on the outskirts of Rome and ends with the Galileo Galilei affair, analyzing all intervening attempts to use moveable type in support of papal policy and the development of the Index of Forbidden Books. Highlighting the interconnections between prohibition and promotion, it proposes a unified interpretation of these two lines of action rather than present them in opposition, as is often the case.

This chapter suggests that the papacy dealt with Protestantism in various ways. It condemned the forty-one propositions of Martin Luther and then waited for the Council of Trent to condemn others. It used the institutions of preventive press censorship and of various inquisitions to check heresy. It sought the support of Christian rulers to prevent its spread, sending nuncios and legates to the rulers of the Holy Roman Empire, France, England, Scotland, Sweden, Denmark, and Poland–Lithuania to urge them to suppress heresy and to secure their loyalty by negotiating agreements on Church appointments and shared revenues and by offering military aid, efforts that had mixed success, or failed. Religious orders such as the Jesuits and Capuchins were also enlisted in the struggle. Leading Protestant reformers came to see the papacy as the Antichrist or foreign usurper.

This chapter reviews the regulation of disinformation from an African human rights’ law perspective, focusing on the right to freedom of expression and the right to vote. It provides an overview of the African regional law framework, specifically the African Charter on Human and Peoples Rights of 1981 (the African Charter) and corresponding jurisprudence. The chapter also analyses the way in which freedom of expression and disinformation laws have been applied in African countries, the aim being to contextualize and illustrate how African regional law plays out at the domestic level, but with an emphasis on the position in South Africa.

This article explores the reception of American popular visual culture in Ireland. The role Irish Americans played in the development of blackface is discussed, highlighting how blackface was used by the Irish to distance themselves from African Americans, thus helping their integration into (white) American society. Reception of blackface in Ireland is also explored. Consideration is then given to various technological visual media, notably large-scale panorama paintings, which offered American scenes of interest to Irish emigrants, and the cinema, which became so pervasive by the Great War that American cinema, especially, had eclipsed all other entertainments. The article then outlines the contributions made to Irish film by reverse migrants, who produced the first realist representations on film of Irish history and culture during 1910–14. The last section focuses on the ideological resistance by Catholics and nationalists alike to American cinema, which was deemed immoral and undermined the Catholic-nationalist project. This led in 1923 to the introduction of the first piece of media legislation in independent Ireland that severely restricted what could be shown in Irish cinemas. Notwithstanding this cultural protectionist measure, American cinema remained hugely popular in Ireland.

The seventh and final chapter presents a new interpretation of Richard Simon’s Histoire critique du Vieux Testament (1678). Having set out the course of his early career (and especially his study of Hebrew manuscripts in the library of the Oratory), it outlines how Simon presented a novel account of the practice and purpose of Catholic biblical scholarship. Its conclusion reflects on why this was found challenging by his contemporaries, and discusses how the reception of his work differed so extensively from that of Louis Cappel’s Critica sacra.

Chapter 1 focuses on the practice and purpose of biblical scholarship in the Catholic world in the later sixteenth and early seventeenth century. It traces the fortunes of three prospective polyglot editions of the Bible in Spain, the Southern Netherlands, and France to examine how the publication of authoritative Roman editions of the Septuagint (1587) and Vulgate (1592) posed new challenges for Catholic scholars and editors of the Bible.

The controversies that plagued the Critica sacra described in Chapter 3 took place while it was in manuscript. Chapter 4 shows what happened when it finally found its way into print, prompting considerable debate in both Catholic and Protestant Europe. In the former, it focuses on how the work was received in Rome, tracking the lengthy investigation it was subject to at the Congregation of the Index and then the Holy Office. In the latter, it charts the wide-ranging public disputes the work elicited, paying particular attention to reconstructing the scholarly views and methods that underpinned Johann Buxtorf II and Archbishop James Ussher’s engagement with Cappel’s work.

This chapter traces the rise of secular, non-governmental publishing in Russia during the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries and argues that a succession of risk-taking entrepreneurs eventually made it possible for authors to become remunerated professionals and to become the entertainers, tribunes, and conscience of the nation. Despite the obstacles of government interference, undercapitalisation, and mass illiteracy, publishers underwent a series of transformations, from printer-artisans to merchant-booksellers to, by the 1840s, intellectuals, becoming a force for shaping imaginative literature, primarily through the medium of the thick journal. Only by the end of this period did they become major print capitalists, but even then, the publisher often remained a creaky mechanism for producing literature, with poorly fitting parts and thin financial lubrication. The influence of these publishers and their enterprises, however, is demonstrated by the fact that the new Soviet regime made closing them down one of its first tasks.

Where Chapter 2 assessed the origin and content of Morin and Cappel’s works, Chapter 3 shifts to consider aspects of their reception, tracing both the debates prompted by Morin’s publications and the difficulties Cappel faced in publishing the Critica sacra. These, it shows, were interlinked, as many of the problems Cappel encountered stemmed from the way in which his Protestant contemporaries learned about Morin’s claims and followed the disputes he provoked. It draws particular attention to how scholars in Switzerland came to oppose Cappel’s work, showing how this was shaped by a conjunction of differing views about the practice of biblical scholarship and how Protestant scholars ought to conduct themselves in the Republic of Letters.

Chapter 6 shows how the later 1650s and 1660s defy ready categorisation, with the practices and tools of biblical scholarship being drawn on in a range of different ways in a range of different contexts. Its three parts proceed concurrently, rather than chronologically, and successively analyse: the way in which debate concerning the Old Testament became increasingly polemical, framed in terms of a choice between the Masoretic Hebrew text or the Septuagint; how biblical scholarship differed according to different local settings (in this case Italy (and especially Rome) and the Dutch Republic); and how Benedict de Spinoza, comparatively disconnected from the confessionalised world of Old Testament scholarship, targeted a precise set of the views concerning the Bible held by others in his local Reformed and Jewish communities.

This chapter examines the phenomenon that has become known as samizdat: the self-publishing of secular literature as a reaction to state censorship in the second half of the twentieth century. Samizdat is conceptualised as a means by which Soviet citizens procured what the centrally organised cultural sphere would not provide: interesting or informative texts that people wanted to read. The chapter provides detail on famous texts that were first circulated in samizdat, on different genres of samizdat such as literary journals, and on the manufacturing and distribution of samizdat materials, including ‘tamizdat’ or the smuggling into the USSR of books printed abroad. Ultimately, samizdat emerges not merely as a way of distributing texts, but also as a network of grassroots networks – a way for people to organise outside official channels in the context of a system which suppressed private and civic initiative.

The specter of maiestas looms large over narratives of the reign of Tiberius, especially that of Tacitus. We begin with an overview of maiestas laws predating the reign of Augustus. We then analyze known cases of maiestas from the reign of Augustus, particularly those towards the end involving attacks on Augustus and his family. Next, we explore the early trials for maiestas in the reign of Tiberius, observing that in the vast majority of those cases the charges were dismissed. The trial of Libo and the maneuverings of Agrippa Postumus’ freedman Clemens indicate, however, larger issues in the domus Augusta. The deaths of Germanicus and Drusus produced a power vacuum, filled by Tiberius’ Praetorian Prefect, Sejanus. As the relationship between Tiberius and his daughter-in-law Agrippina became increasingly strained, members of the Senate were unsure as to how to express their loyalty. The problem was exacerbated by Tiberius’ permanent removal from Rome. Ultimately, the situation devolved into a "reign of terror." Nevertheless, Tiberius was careful to preserve Augustus’ position for a member of the domus Augusta, Augustus’ great-grandson Caligula.

After addressing Hamas’s intelligence collection in previous chapters, this chapter focusses on Hamas’s efforts to counter Israeli intelligence efforts against it. To overcome Israel’s attempts to infiltrate its ranks, Hamas went to great lengths to screen those wishing to join it, while diligently acting to detect collaborators with Israel, both within its ranks and in the broader society in which they operate, while applying internal compartmentalization to the organization. To counter Israel’s SIGINT activity, Hamas tried to avoid the use of wireless communications, and also made use of encryption, both in telephone communication and in correspondence; over time, Hamas developed an internal communication system that is separate from the public system. To defeat Israel’s GEOINT efforts, Hamas tried to conceal its activities to the greatest extent possible. This included a range of strategies, including camouflage, the assimilation of military installations in civilian surroundings, and the use of subterranean spaces. Regarding open-source media publications, Hamas developed the awareness of the need to impose censorship to hide certain characteristic signs of its activity.

This chapter focuses on Haiti’s twentieth-century periodicals, and more specifically on the literary magazine. By bringing to light the complex stories of literary revue culture during key historical moments I show how these specific forms of publications, which played a major role in Caribbean countries, have influenced Haiti’s sociopolitical and intellectual life. At its core, this chapter addresses the tension between the aesthetics and politics of several literary revues by highlighting, first, literary and/or socially engaged magazines predominantly concerned with the development of Haiti’s literature and culture, and, second, those with a clear political agenda, some of which were infused with an explicit objective: the forging of a Haitian national voice.

Sanja Perovic’s chapter treats one of the most significant events in French history and an unprecedented period in theatre history. While the Revolution is often overlooked as a ‘dead period’ in French theatre, Perovic describes the scale and ambition of this extraordinary period. Never before had so many newcomers been able to forge successful careers as writers, actors and directors. Artistic innovation peaked, as revolutionary performance was more akin to what today is termed performance art, than to the kind of repertory theatre that preceded or followed it. Covering some of the major events, influential figures and key texts of this extremely fertile period, Perovic shows how theatre addressed the questions key to revolutionary culture: who is the audience? Where is it located? Who speaks on its behalf, and in what (theatrical, artistic) language? She concludes by contrasting two utopian works – Louis Beffroy de Reigny’s Nicodème dans la lune, ou la révolution pacifique (Nicodème Goes to the Moon, or the Peaceful Revolution, 1790) and Sylvain Maréchal’s Le Jugement dernier des rois (The Last Judgement of Kings, 1793) – with Beaumarchais’ La Mère coupable (The Guilty Mother, 1792), an altogether more sombre assessment of the effects of revolution.