Looking at decolonization in the conditional tense, this volume teases out the complex and uncertain ends of British and French empire in Africa during the period of ‘late colonial shift’ after 1945. Rather than view decolonization as an inevitable process, the contributors together explore the crucial historical moments in which change was negotiated, compromises were made, and debates were staged. Three core themes guide the analysis: development, contingency and entanglement. The chapters consider the ways in which decolonization was governed and moderated by concerns about development and profit. A complementary focus on contingency allows deeper consideration of how colonial powers planned for ‘colonial futures’, and how divergent voices greeted the end of empire. Thinking about entanglements likewise stresses both the connections that existed between the British and French empires in Africa, and those that endured beyond the formal transfer of power.

In 1944 the British War Office distributed a handbook to British soldiers informing them what to expect and how to behave in a newly-liberated France.Containing candid descriptions of this war-ravaged society (widespread malnourishment, rampant tuberculosis) as well as useful phrases and a pronunciation guide (Bonjewer, commont-allay-voo), it was an indispensable guide to everyday life.This small, unassuming publication had a deeper purpose: to bring together two allies who did not enjoy ideal relations in 1944. The book attempts to reconcile differences by stressing a shared history and the common aim -- defeating Hitler. It also tried to dispel misapprehensions: 'There is a fairly widespread belief among people in Britain that the French are a particularly gay, frivolous people with no morals and few convictions.'Often unintentionally hilarious in its expression of these false impressions, the book is also a guide for avoiding social embarrassment: 'If you should happen to imagine that the first pretty French girl who smiles at you intends to dance the can-can or take you to bed, you will risk stirring up a lot of trouble for yourself - and for our relations with the French.'Many of its observations still ring true today. For example, 'The French are more polite than most of us. Remember to call them "Monsieur, Madame, Mademoiselle," not just "Oy!"' Others remind us of how we recently we have adopted French customs: 'Don't drink yourself silly. If you get the chance to drink wine, learn to "'take it".'Anyone with an interest in Britain, France or World War II will find this an irresistible insight into British attitudes towards the French and an interesting, timeless commentary on Anglo-French relations.

Hogarth, France and British Art is a radical reappraisal of the art and achievement of William Hogarth (1697-1764). Hogarth has long been viewed as an insular and chauvinistic individual, with a particular aversion to all things French. On the contrary, while Hogarth himself liked to project this image, his effective invention of British art was founded upon a profound knowledge of contemporary French art and theory. This lavishly illustrated book conjures up in great detail the French and wider European context within which Hogarth's art was formed. The author examines the ways in which Hogarth interacted with and influenced his contemporaries not only in painting and print-making, but also in sculpture, poetry, the novel, the theatre, public life, art education, copyright law, music, and opera. In this wide-ranging but richly detailed book, full of analyses of individual works, Robin Simon draws upon a mass of new material, with fresh considerations of Hogarth's most famous and less well-known works alike, opening a window on to one of the most creative and formative periods in British life.

The secret history' of the secret service, from the aftermath of the French revolution to the defeat of Napoleon.

Although over 330,000 British and French soldiers were evacuated from the Dunkirk beaches between 26 May and 4 June, many thousands remained in France, most under French command. Churchill, now the Prime Minister, and desperate to keep the French in the War, decided to form a Second BEF made up of 51 Highland, 1st Armoured and the Beauman Divisions, reinforced from the UK by a second Corps. He also ordered vital and scarce RAF fighter squadrons to France. Had these been lost the Battle of Britain might have had a very different result. General Alan Brooke was to command the second Corps comprising the only viable formations in the UK. Realizing the hopelessness of his mission he delayed for as long as possible. Meanwhile the situation in France went from bad to worse and five units were squandered. At St Valery 800 of the 51st Highland Division surrendered after heavy fighting and being outflanked by Rommel. This is the fascinating story of a disaster that could have been so much worse had Churchill had his way.

How it happened that technological prowess and national glory (or “radiance,” which also means “radiation” in French) became synonymous in France as nowhere else. In the aftermath of World War II, as France sought a distinctive role for itself in the modern, postcolonial world, the nation and its leaders enthusiastically embraced large technological projects in general and nuclear power in particular. The Radiance of France asks how it happened that technological prowess and national glory (or “radiance,” which also means “radiation” in French) became synonymous in France as nowhere else. To answer this question, Gabrielle Hecht has forged an innovative combination of technology studies and cultural and political history in a book that, as Michel Callon writes in the new foreword to this edition, “not only sheds new light on the role of technology in the construction of national identities” but is also “a seminal contribution to the history of contemporary France.” Proposing the concept of technopolitical regime as a way to analyze the social, political, cultural, and technological dynamics among engineering elites, unionized workers, and rural communities, Hecht shows how the history of France's first generation of nuclear reactors is also a history of the multiple meanings of nationalism, from the postwar period (and France's desire for post-Vichy redemption) to 1969 and the adoption of a “Frenchified” American design. This paperback edition of Hecht's groundbreaking book includes both Callon's foreword and an afterword by the author in which she brings the story up to date, and reflects on such recent developments as the 2007 French presidential election, the promotion of nuclear power as the solution to climate change, and France's aggressive exporting of nuclear technology.