{'fraction_non_alphanumeric': 0.02262693156732892, 'fraction_numerical': 0.0074503311258278145, 'mean_word_length': 4.942622950819672, 'pattern_counts': {'":': 0, '<': 0, '<?xml version=': 0, '>': 0, 'https://': 0, 'lorem ipsum': 0, 'www.': 0, 'xml': 0}, 'pii_count': 0, 'substrings_counts': 0, 'word_list_counts': {'cursed_substrings.json': 0, 'profanity_word_list.json': 0, 'sexual_word_list.json': 0, 'zh_pornsignals.json': 0}}
Universal empire: a comparative approach to imperial culture and representation in Eurasian history Edited by Peter Fibiger Bang and Dariusz Kołodziejczyk. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2012. Pp. xvii+378. 56 illustrations, 8 maps. Hardback £68.00, ISBN 978-1-107-02267-6.

This book contains an introduction to the theme of universal empire by the editors and a concluding chapter by John Hall. Between are ranged eleven chapters, some on individual empires, more on specific imperial genealogies, and a few explicitly devoted to comparisons. One chapter, by Justyna Olko, steps outside the book’s Eurasian focus to look at Aztec universalism. The other chapters focus on the Mediterranean world, the Middle East, and the Indian subcontinent. China is almost as much an outlier in this book as is the western hemisphere, being represented by just one chapter, by Evelyn Rawski, which looks at how the Qing dynasty took over, modified, and used the Chinese tradition of universal empire. As one would expect from Professor Rawski, the chapter is very well informed and thought-provoking but of course one could write a vast tome on Chinese dynastic variations on the theme of universal empire. One interesting point that unites Rawski’s piece to many of the other chapters is the manner in which rulers of empire exploited empire’s magnificence and the allure of its claims to universal rule while remaining coolly realistic in their management of relations with powerful, albeit ‘barbarian’, rivals. The core of the book covers the region between Europe and the Indian subcontinent. It starts with a fascinating comparison between Assyrian and Persian imperial culture by Gojko Barjamovic, which illustrates excellently the very different ways in which the two imperial elites portrayed themselves in their palaces, art, and rituals. He notes, too, the gap between Assyrian propaganda and the realities revealed in surviving ‘archival’ correspondence. From there we move on to the Hellenistic empire and thence down the centuries into the Roman, Byzantine, Mughal, and Ottoman imperial traditions. Slightly outside this core group of empires we have essays on the south Indian empire and on post-imperial orders in medieval and early modern Latin Europe. The book illustrates how this whole region was to some extent influenced by a common memory of empire which can be dated back to the Persians and to Alexander the Great. Peter Bang shows that, although the Mauryan empire emerged in a region beyond even Alexander’s reach, it was in part the result of geopolitical shockwaves which he caused. In more general terms, this era witnessed the creation of a number of great empires with universal aspirations rooted in some common fundamental features. Bang traces connections and makes comparisons to support this argument. Two thousand years after Alexander’s death, he still had a hold on the European imagination, felt by Napoleon himself and exploited in his propaganda. This was despite the fact that no true empire had existed in Latin Europe at least since Charlemagne and in reality since the fall of Rome. The link between Alexander and Napoleon is a very weak variation on a central theme in this book, namely the role of imperial genealogies which linked one empire to those that followed within specific regions and cultural and religious traditions. None of these empires were universal in the sense of genuinely ruling (or even really aspiring to rule) over all mankind. What unites them is a sense that they stood at the pinnacle of their great civilization. They recognized no equals. In that sense