Saturday, June 25, 2016

Katrina Jagodinsky's "Legal Codes and Talking Trees"

Katrina Jagodinsky is the 2015-2017 Harold and Esther Edgerton Assistant Professor of History at the University of Nebraska–Lincoln.

She applied the “Page 99 Test” to her new book, Legal Codes and Talking Trees: Indigenous Women's Sovereignty in the Sonoran and Puget Sound Borderlands, 1854-1946, and reported the following:
Part of Chapter 4: “Juana Walker’s ‘Legal Right As a Half-Breed’: Arizona, 1864-1916,” page 99 describes the vulnerability of Akimel O’odham and other Arizona Indians denied the rights of citizenship. Barred from making economic contracts to secure title to their lands, denied the sanctity of marriage through miscegenation bans, and ignored by federal agents who failed to protect their interests, Akimel O’odham families used creative, and desperate, means to retain individual and tribal claims to the Gila River on the northern edge of the Sonoran Desert.

Sometime before 1873, Juana’s O’odham mother Churga married John D. Walker, an American who served during the Civil War hauling wheat from O’odham fields to supply the Union Army. Churga left John when their daughter was young, died a few years later, and Juana grew up with Mormon guardians even though her father continued to correspond with her and lived nearby until his death in 1891. Juana’s father had accumulated considerable wealth from a silver mine he acquired through the aid of O’odham friends who themselves were unable to exploit mineral claims on their reserved lands. At the age of eighteen in 1892, Juana sued her American paternal uncles for her father’s estate. Her “Legal Right As a Half-Breed” became the sensational question in the case because Arizona territorial law barred inter-racial marriages, made mixed-race children illegitimate heirs of white fathers, and denied Indian claims to mineral rights. Surprisingly, a jury made up of white men agreed that Juana deserved her father’s wealth even as they acknowledged her mixed-race and illegitimate status, showing that not all white Arizonans agreed that Indigenous contributions and claims to family wealth should be ignored. Juana’s uncles appealed the lower court’s ruling, however, and Arizona’s Supreme Court overturned the finding on Juana’s behalf. Having lost her claim, Juana lived a life of poverty until she died in 1916 despite her family’s rich history.

Page 99 explains some of the conditions that made Juana and her mother dependent on men like John D. Walker, and subject to dispossession in territorial Arizona:
Indian agents Ammi White and Levi Ruggles, charged with defending O’odham lands against unscrupulous whites, actually founded Florence and Adamsville on lands just north of the reservation and helped Americans claim uncultivated O’odham lands to the west. Anglo citizens viewed unimproved lands as public domain and registered their plots despite protests from tribal leaders. While [John D.] Walker and other Americans built homes and irrigated fields in the midst of O’odham territory, some diverted water that had fed O’odham crops and then made claims to the military for Indian depredations that stemmed from tribal crop failures…

When the Gila River began to fail in 1870 due to drought and upstream water demands from white farmers, O’odham families found the lands they had used for seasonal harvests and hunting occupied by settler-colonists, so they began to move north toward the Salt River—an area that had not attracted citizens because of its proximity to Apaches, who were feared by many and misunderstood by all. In his role as intermediary between O’odham and Americans, which he would fulfill for another twenty years, [John D.] Walker knew intimately the frustrations of his Indigenous friends and neighbors. By 1870, Juana’s father established his ranch on O’odham land and married his O’odham wife [Churga] in tribal tradition, demonstrating that his service to [O’odham leader Antonio] Azul profited him personally and politically. With little access to capital or contracts, the O’odham used sex and property to reward the citizens who befriended them. Contemporary observers noted that while the tribe struggled to reestablish self-reliance through agriculture on Salt River lands they claimed without federal sanction, some turned to “stealing, begging, and prostituting their women in efforts to survive” the devastation wrought by starvation and sickness. Although outsiders viewed some O’odham practices as prostitution, it is only because the federal and territorial governments barred the O’odham from citizenship, thus waiving Churga’s right to the marriage contract, that her commitment to Walker lacked legal and moral sanctity. Were she and her parents American citizens, Churga might have commanded more respect from Walker’s [American] friends and relatives, and the tribal land that Walker farmed might have been held in her name…
Legal Codes & Talking Trees: Indigenous Women’s Sovereignty in the Sonoran and Puget Sound Borderlands, 1854-1946 includes Juana’s story among five other Native women in Arizona and Washington who similarly used a daunting American legal system to make claims for protection and privileges other Americans took for granted. Some sought inheritance rights like Juana, while others lodged child custody petitions, filed sexual assault charges, and fought to preserve land claims. All bore the brunt of settler-colonialism, a process that relied on legal and violent means to ensure Indigenous dispossession, and all challenged their dispossession in creative and critical ways. Collectively, their histories reveal a long yet generally unacknowledged tradition of Indian women’s active critique of the U.S. legal system.
Learn more about Legal Codes and Talking Trees at the Yale University Press website.

--Marshal Zeringue

Thursday, June 23, 2016

J. Kael Weston's "The Mirror Test"

John Kael Weston represented the United States for more than a decade as a State Department official. Washington acknowledged his multi-year work in Fallujah with Marines by awarding him one of its highest honors, the Secretary of State’s Medal for Heroism.

Weston applied the “Page 99 Test” to his new book, The Mirror Test: America at War in Iraq and Afghanistan, and reported the following:
Page 99 happens to be the fulcrum of the book -- a scene that details how policymaking in Washington met reality on the ground in Iraq, resulting in tragedy.

The page sets up a key discussion between senior Marines and me in late 2004. The exchange centered on where to send our troops in support of the first post-invasion Iraqi election scheduled for January 2005. Key phrases include: “Washington wanted to shift public focus to ballots instead of bullets”; “For Sunni politicians, and the Bush administration for that matter, the more ‘purple finger’ Iraqi voters observed by the media the better”; “At Camp Fallujah, decision time had arrived”.

A top Marine general wisely pushed for a narrowly defined and less risky mission for Marines. I argued the opposite, a strategy that led to Marines being sent to remote polling locations in sparsely populated areas in Anbar province. On January 26, 2005, one of two large Marine helicopters carrying election support troops crashed in the middle of the desert while on this expanded mission, leaving 31 service members dead. The accident remains the single largest casualty incident in the Iraq and Afghanistan wars.

When drafting this chapter, I wished I had been writing a fictional account of war -- able to craft a different ending. Instead, those of us in Iraq and Afghanistan who had to implement war policy were faced with real-time operational decisions. Sometimes our decisions went right. Sometimes our decisions went wrong. In this instance, the outcome of our deliberations meant death.

The content of page 99 reflects the responsibility I believed I had throughout my nonfiction book -- not only to remember these 31 dead, to tell a bit about each of them, but also to convey the stories of Iraqis and Afghans. Themes of wartime accountability and post-war reckoning form the book’s foundation across the 608 pages.

As the drafts progressed, I knew the book would require detours (more chapters than planned) and thereby ask more patience of readers. It would have been easier to end the book in the war zones and not add parts about each of the dead, their hometowns, and the memories of them their families and friends shared online. But I believe it was right to go deeper, adding pages of others’ voices as well in an “After War” section. A long book for two very long wars that go on…

Page 99 frames how war ultimately is about the human costs.

Had I pushed for a different decision that day (leading to no “31 Angels”), I doubt I would have written The Mirror Test. I probably would not have felt the need to try and resurrect, through words, some of the many, many war dead -- Iraqis, Afghans, and Americans.
Visit J. Kael Weston's website.

--Marshal Zeringue

Wednesday, June 22, 2016

Peter J. Holliday's "American Arcadia"

Peter J. Holliday is Professor of the History of Art and Classical Archaeology, California State University, Long Beach. Trained as an historian of classical art and archaeology, Holliday has received awards for his research and writing from the American Academy in Rome, Andrew W. Mellon Foundation, J. Paul Getty Trust, Samuel H. Kress Foundation, and National Endowment for the Humanities.

He applied the “Page 99 Test” to his new book, American Arcadia: California and the Classical Tradition, and reported the following:
Ford Madox Ford’s contention that the ninety-ninth page is representative of an entire book is indeed valid for American Arcadia, in that it features how Southern Californians considered adapting a classical form – a grand boulevard to link an expansive city – and using classical building types (triumphal arches, statuary groups, fountains) to define it. The key is in the book’s subtitle: California and the Classical Tradition. Classical antiquity could be considered second only to Christianity as a force in modeling America's national identity; this book uses material culture, literature, and architecture to demonstrate how, from the beginning, Californians in particular chose to craft their state visually and culturally using the rhetoric of classical antiquity. In its earliest days, California was touted as the last opportunity for alienated Yankees to establish the refined gentleman-farmer culture envisioned by Jefferson and build new cities free of the filth and corruption of those they left back East. Through architecture and landscape design Californians fashioned an Arcadian setting evocative of ancient Greece and Rome. Later, as that Arcadia gave way to urban sprawl, entire city plans were drafted to conjure classical antiquity, self-styled villas dotted the hills, and utopian communities began to shape the state's social atmosphere.

The specific boulevard discussed on page ninety-nine is Wilshire, which runs 15.83 miles from downtown Los Angeles west to the sea in Santa Monica. In the 1920s a group of powerful oligarchs sought to widen it on principles derived from the City Beautiful Movement, and give the region a classicizing identity by marking its progress with great civic monuments. Opposition from other business interests and property owners thwarted their plans. As indicated by the citations, my discussion rests on the work done by Greg Goldin and Sam Lubell for their provocative exhibition and catalogue, Never Built Los Angeles (2013). My goal is to place the Wilshire project within the context of Californians emulating classical models, and make comparisons with existing instances, whereas Goldin and Lubell discuss it as exemplary among an array of other unbuilt projects. As elsewhere in the book, my discussion builds on the important work of others, but whose different perspectives and alternative narratives I encourage readers to explore, too.
Learn more about American Arcadia at the Oxford University Press website.

--Marshal Zeringue

Monday, June 20, 2016

Ron E. Hassner's "Religion on the Battlefield"

Ron E. Hassner is Associate Professor of Political Science at the University of California, Berkeley. He is the author of War on Sacred Grounds and Religion on the Battlefield, and editor of Religion in the Military.

He applied the “Page 99 Test” to his new book, Religion on the Battlefield, and reported the following:
How does religion influence the modern battlefield? The preoccupation with religiously-motivated terrorists has focused our attention on religion as cause of war, motivating suicide bombers or ISIS militants, for example. But we should not forget that religion has been just as influential in conventional wars between professional armies. Soldiers pray too. And not just during the Crusades. In Religion on the Battlefield I look at how religion has constrained and enabled 20th century interstate wars.

For example, a respect for holy places influenced American bombing campaigns during World War II (including the ludicrously impossible task of bombing strategic targets in Rome without hitting any churches). Or, during the 1973 Arab-Israeli war, calculations about sacred time affected Egyptian conflict initiation, which is why we know this as the “Yom Kippur War”. These calculations turn out to occur quite often (did you know that the Tet Offensive was timed with the Vietnamese New Year, aka “Tet”)? Even when religion is not a cause of war, as in the World Wars or conflicts during the Cold War, religious sites and the religious calendar tend to “interfere” with battle and have to be taken into account. Shrewd military leaders can learn to exploit these factors, as they would any other environmental factor like the weather or topography. Japanese decision makers timed their attack on Pearl Harbor with Sunday, not because they cared about American religion per se but because they knew that the Navy would not move it ships on a Sunday and because many sailors would be on shore leave.

I dedicate yet another chapter in my book to religious rituals, showing that many of the ceremonies and rites that we attribute to medieval wars characterize armies today: praying together, battlefield baptisms, religious charms and relics, or the blessing of weapons. The picture on the cover of Religion on the Battlefield, for example, shows a priest sprinkling holy water on Ukrainian soldiers in 2004.

Page 99 deals with yet another pervasive religious presence on the battlefield: chaplains. Beyond their pastoral duties, 20th century chaplains were charged with motivating troops but also with acting as a moral check on commanders. They have done a lot of the former but, puzzlingly, none of the latter. Page 99 in Religion on the Battlefield tries to tackle this puzzle:
A 1969 survey of RAF chaplains bolstered these findings. Most chaplains surveyed perceived no moral conflict between their religious and military duties. Those that did, resolved such tensions in favor of their military obligations. The chaplains questioned explained that their moral authority focused on personal, family and sexual issues, such as swearing, drunkenness and prostitution, and not on military matters. When it came to military decision making, they put their full trust in the judgment of military authorities. For example, two thirds of the RAF chaplains interviewed stated that they considered large-scale civilian bombings to be justifiable, or outside their prerogative to judge, or deplorable but something one had to resign oneself to. Those few who did consider protesting against military policy felt that their protest would have no impact and would thus be a waste of time.
Learn more about Religion on the Battlefield at the Cornell University Press website.

The Page 99 Test: War on Sacred Grounds.

--Marshal Zeringue

Saturday, June 18, 2016

Mark G. Hanna's "Pirate Nests and the Rise of the British Empire, 1570-1740"

Mark G. Hanna is associate professor of history at the University of California, San Diego, where he is the Associate Director of the Institute of Arts and Humanities. His new book, Pirate Nests and the Rise of the British Empire, 1570-1740, recently won the 2016 Frederick Jackson Turner Award for best first book in American history from the Organization of American Historians as well as the 2016 John Lyman Book Award, and honorable mention for books on U.S. Maritime History from the North American Society of Oceanic History.

Hanna applied the “Page 99 Test” to Pirate Nests and reported the following:
From page 99:
Soon more colonial captains without commissions began to seize Dutch ships and then peaceable French vessels, bringing the prizes back to Rhode Island. The entire Hull family faced charges when John, the mint master, was discovered to have invested his Pine Tree Shillings into the Swallow ‘under the command of Edward Hull, pirate.’ Dutch owners sued the Hull family during the fall of 1653. At the trial, John produced letters proving their attempts to stop Edward from going astray. John was acquitted, and Edward fled to England.
This short excerpt from page 99 encapsulates many of the themes from my book about the support of global piracy on the peripheries of the British Empire from 1590 to 1740. John Hull was a well-known and very well-respected New England Puritan. We do not typically associate Puritans with piracy but many considered attacks upon the Catholic antichrist that reaped Spanish silver a literal godsend in communities without a local medium of exchange. Amid the turmoil of the English Civil War, Hull built a mint where he melted down pieces of eight brought by sea marauders and transformed them into the iconic Pine Tree Shillings, British America’s first coinage. Piracy can not subsist without the active support from communities on land who helped fit out ships, man their crews, buy their plunder, provide legal protection, or present the former pirates the opportunity to settle down with their ill gotten gains. Although John Hull could rest assured that his own community of Puritans supported pirates who preyed upon technically allied Catholics far in the Caribbean, they feared the marauding performed by John’s brother Edward against local Dutch and French shipping might lead to retaliation.
Learn more about Pirate Nests and the Rise of the British Empire, 1570-1740 at the University of North Carolina Press website.

--Marshal Zeringue

Thursday, June 16, 2016

Karen J. Greenberg's "Rogue Justice"

Karen J. Greenberg is the Director of the Center on National Security at Fordham University. She is also the author of The Least Worst Place: Guantanamo’s First 100 Days and coeditor of The Torture Papers: The Road to Abu Ghraib.

Greenberg applied the “Page 99 Test” to her new book, Rogue Justice: The Making of the Security State, and reported the following:
There is no page 99 in Rogue Justice, as that is the break between the ending of Part I which describes the immediate panicked responses to 9/11, and the beginning of Part II, the discovery of the secret policies and the reactions of officials and the public. Browsers who usually use the 'page 99 test' might flip forward to page 101 where you would find..."The justices of the Supreme Court were not alone in having misgivings about the president’s power grab.”

2004 was a pivotal year in the war on terror – at least at the outset. Early in the year, lawyers in the Department of Justice discovered the secret memos that had been written in 2001 and 2001 by John Yoo, a young lawyer a the DoJ’s Office of Legal Counsel. Yoo’s memos authorized unprecedented presidential power when it came to surveillance, detention, and torture. Jack Goldsmith, who came in as head of the Office of Legal Counsel in late 2003, balked at the existence of these memos which stretched the law in some instances, and misrepresented it or violated it outright in others. Along with other lawyers at DoJ, including the current director of the FBI, Jim Comey, Goldsmith tried on the one hand to avoid a policy vacuum and on the other to avoid illegality.

In late spring 2004, the photographs from Abu Ghraib prison set in motion a public airing of the programs that the memos had created. Weekly, documents authorizing torture began to appear in public, including DoJ memos authorizing the use of torture against detainees. While officials scrambled to deny the torture program, the lawyers at DoJ saw the surveillance authorities that had been granted to be even more egregious than the torture memos – and potentially damaging to many more lives and people, including Americans.

That summer, Goldsmith quietly resigned, having revoked one of the torture memos, and having set in motion the process that would eventually remove some control of surveillance from the White House. In the months to come, the push to reform would be largely negated; new memos authorizing torture were written – and, as Snowden would later reveal, unprecedented, broad surveillance practices continued. In November, 2004, President Bush was re-elected despite the revelations of torture, and in a vacuum of public knowledge about surveillance. It was a missed moment in reversing the war on terror’s legal excesses, one that would not come again until the election of President Obama.

This 99 page test definitely works for this book, introducing the question of how hard it would be to fix what was so quickly and thoroughly broken. It is a turning point in the book, standing at the crossroads between the building blocks of rogue justice and the many attempts, from inside government and outside of it, to right what had gone wrong.
Learn more about Rogue Justice at the publisher's website.

The Page 99 Test: The Least Worst Place.

--Marshal Zeringue

Wednesday, June 15, 2016

Doreen Mattingly's "A Feminist in the White House"

Doreen Mattingly is Associate Professor of Women's Studies at San Diego State University.

She applied the “Page 99 Test” to her new book, A Feminist in the White House: Midge Costanza, the Carter Years, and America's Culture Wars, and reported the following:
Page 99 of A Feminist in the White House falls in a chapter describes Midge Costanza’s tenuous and often marginalized position within the administration of President Jimmy Carter. Eager to distinguish himself from the failed “imperial presidency” of Richard Nixon, Carter promised to run an open White House and named Costanza as the person to help him do it. As the first woman to hold such a high position, Costanza quickly became a media darling.
Marc Rosen, one of Costanza’s most trusted aides, reflected, “She believed in the campaign promises. She believed she could really make it an open administration in a post-Watergate era ... I think that she felt more than anything a need for people to feel more in touch with their government than they had before . . . She believed times were changing.” Costanza frequently offered her own story as evidence of Carter’s commitment to the people. Newspaper profiles recount her own rags-to-riches story, from her parents’ sausage factory, through the sexist Rochester City Council, to the White House, further defining her as a legitimate representative of the disenfranchised. Early profiles of Costanza are peppered with stories of people who never had a friend or advocate in the White House, until Costanza came. Some of her personal qualities shine through: her fierce Sicilian loyalty, her salty humor and in-your-face style, her enormous compassion. Most of the early articles mention that she never went to college, some speculating about its effect on her self-confidence and power in the White House. For Italian Americans, she was a particularly potent symbol. The Board of Directors of the Italian American Foundation wrote Carter commending him on Costanza’s appointment and the Italian American press covered her with “joy and pleasure.” The combined effect was to portray her as the real “common man” in the Carter White House: street-wise, blunt, and passionate.

Unfortunately, Carter’s idea of an open White House turned out to be quite different from Costanza’s. Rather than trying to include marginalized groups in decision-making, he kept his commitment to an “open, accessible Presidency” through personal humility and frugality. For example, after the inauguration, Jimmy and Rosalynn surprised observers by getting out of the armored car and walking from the Capitol to the White House. He also dismissed many of the trappings of power that had come to be associated with the “imperial presidency,” such as playing Hail to the Chief and giving staffers door-to-door limousine services. He enrolled his daughter Amy in a public school and carried his own bag when he traveled. In Carter’s presidential memoir Keeping Faith he wrote, “I tried in many other ways to convince the people that the barriers between them and top officials were being broken down. A simpler lifestyle, more frugality, less ostentation, more accessibility to the press and public—all these suited the way I had always lived.”

While most thought “an open administration” meant Carter would include input in his decision-making, Carter saw it as making decisions in a way that was transparent, rational, and efficient.
I don’t know that page 99 captures the “quality of the whole book,” but it does a nice job of introducing Midge Costanza, who was the most unlikely of White House officials. She was an idealist, a true believer in Carter’s campaign promises, and a symbol of inclusion for many Americans. When asked to keep his promise of an “open White House,” Costanza believed it meant bringing Carter input from people in all walks of life, especially those typically at the margins. Carter, on the other hand, meant that his White House would be open for viewing and more familiar to typical Americans. Despite the highly visible appointment of Costanza, his decision-making style was famously closed to input from all but his closest advisors, a circle that rarely included her.

This discussion of Costanza’s place in the White House, as well as her beliefs about why she was there, help frame Costanza later struggles. In particular, Costanza tried to use her position to advance the aims of the feminist and LGBT movements. When she encountered roadblocks, her sense of betrayal and her commitment to her beliefs kept her fighting, even when when it meant public disagreement with the president. For those watching the White House, Costanza was either a refreshing dose of honesty or a disloyal heretic. For those opposed to her positions, Midge Costanza was evidence that the Democratic Party was no longer a home to “family values” voters. Costanza’s story provides an inside look at the dynamics within the White House at the dawn of the now too-familiar and very partisan culture wars over abortion and gay rights.
Learn more about A Feminist in the White House at the Oxford University Press website.

--Marshal Zeringue

Tuesday, June 14, 2016

Christopher Phillips's "The Rivers Ran Backward"

Christopher Phillips is Professor of History and Department Head at the University of Cincinnati. He is the author of seven books, including Damned Yankee: The Life of General Nathaniel Lyon; Freedom's Port: The African American Community of Baltimore, 1790-1860; Missouri's Confederate: Claiborne Fox Jackson and the Creation of Southern Identity in the Border West; and The Civil War in the Border South.

Phillips applied the “Page 99 Test” to his latest book, The Rivers Ran Backward: The Civil War and the Remaking of the American Middle Border, and reported the following:
From page 99:
On July 4, 1857, a large crowd of Kentuckians gathered at the city cemetery just north of Lexington. For five years, it had boasted the unadorned remains of the state’s most celebrated resident, Henry Clay, whose whistle-stop funeral train had drawn men from their plows and girls in white dresses to stand along its route to honor the western region’s most distinguished statesman. Now, construction was begun on a fitting grave monument: a towering, 120-foot corinthian column topped by a twelve-and-a-half-foot limestone statue of Clay. Adorning the monument to the Great Compromiser, the first person to lie in state in the nation’s Capitol, was a simple headstone inscribed with perhaps his most famous utterance: “I know no North—no South—no East—no West.” Fittingly, eulogist Robert J. Breckinridge, a noted antislavery activist, lauded Clay as a slaveholder who had no hardened sectional inclinations over slavery.

Had any listeners been in attendance in early October 1842 at Richmond, Indiana, they would have recalled a harder, more sectionalized posturing from the great Kentucky pacificator. There, Clay had admonished local Quakers who had presented him with a petition, amid a chorus of boos from other Indianans then present, asking him to free his own slaves. Kentucky’s laws, he reminded them, clearly and unambiguously recognized “the right of property in slaves,” and universal emancipation and amalgamation would trigger a racial “civil war” in his home state. The great statesman condemned meddling abolitionists for their “unfortunate agitation of the subject,” and with unstatesmanlike annoyance dismissed “monomaniacs” in the audience “who think with [them].” “Go home and mind your own business,” he barked, “and leave other people to take care of theirs.” Fifteen years later, any of these Quakers who might have been in Lexington would certainly have noticed of the deceased Kentucky senator’s statue the effects of sectional strife on his non-nonsectional image, its south facing perhaps betokening the slave state’s future direction.
One cannot help but consider the irony of Henry Clay’s un-sectionalized celebration amid a growing sectional divide. Could antislavery free staters actually have revered a Kentucky slaveholder, nearly as did his kinspeople, a scant four years before the outbreak of the Civil War? Did Henry Clay’s reputation as an antislavery moderate actually grow in his proslavery home state after his death, in the midst of a sectional crisis in full flower? The answer to both, it would seem, is yes. Have we then misunderstood the nature of that war, one that in our understanding pitted proslavery southerners (including many Kentuckians and Missourians) against antislavery northerners (including many Ohioans, Indianans, and Illinoisans) in a contest to end the South’s peculiar institution? The answer, at least in this border region, is both yes and no, which of course is the purpose of this book to explain.

But to start the story where it should begin: The Rivers Ran Backward posits that the border didn’t create the war, the war made the border. Slavery might have lain at the heart of the war, but the Middle Border, west of the Appalachians, was hardly divided irrevocably over it as late as 1861. But it divided, slowly and often imperceptibly, and later than the nation as a whole and in part after the war. The book examines how a western political culture that traditionally accommodated slavery was transformed by the era of the Civil War into the cultural politics of region. It explains how slavery could organize the life of an entire region even as it became the foundation of the conflict while having at once been its least attributed and most unreconciled cause among those white residents who endured it. It also explains how in their haste to make a fully formed sectional border divided by slavery historians have largely ignored the centrality of Lincoln’s home region—the West—to perhaps the war’s most lasting outcome. Beneath the edifice of postwar American nationalism lay newly formed regional identities that were anything but unifying and have proven more enduring than their sectionalized predecessors. And by sustained and irreconciled postwar cultural politics surrounding the war and its divisive outcome—emancipation—claimants of the former West’s promise of liberty changed what was once a lived border of confluence into an imagined and antagonistic border of separation defined as North and South and, more complicatedly, Middle West and Midwest. The formation of regional identities completed the nationalistic struggle that brought the war, and in doing so, the West was effectively written out of the national war narratives, accomplishing the moving frontier not by conquering physical space or its inhabitants but by creating a new regional geography understood as culture. The experience on the Middle Border requires us to reconsider exactly what the “North-South” border itself actually means, or meant.
Learn more about The Rivers Ran Backward at the Oxford University Press website.

--Marshal Zeringue

Monday, June 13, 2016

David M. Pomfret's "Youth and Empire"

David M. Pomfret is Associate Professor of History at the University of Hong Kong and the author of Young People and the European City.

He applied the “Page 99 Test” to his new book, Youth and Empire: Trans-Colonial Childhoods in British and French Asia, and reported the following:
“While the internal hierarchy of the image is obvious, it suggests not intimacy between mother and children but detachment.” The first line of page 99 of Youth and Empire describes a stunning image captured by the photographer Jules Gervais-Courtellemont. Wandering around the Vietnamese countryside not far from Hanoi around 1900 Gervais managed to convince a soldier to allow his wife and four children to be photographed. Why did he pick this subject? The fact that four of the sentryman’s children had been born in ‘Tonkin’ (northern Vietnam) suited the photographer’s agenda. The image would appear in print supporting the controversial idea that this land might become a ‘New France,’ populated by French families. Gervais paired the image with a description of the children as “four dear little colonials, wearing topees, sitting on the grass at the feet of their mother.” They were, he claimed, “Alive and well, the living refutation of detractors of the Tonkinese climate.”

Looking at the image, what do we see? Four children seated on the ground appear as a part of ‘tropical’ nature, embedded in it, even as their white attire and hygienic topees mark them out as distinct. The mother is a marginal figure, but the girls gaze out into the surrounding countryside. Occupying a space lacking enclosure or private interiority underlines their potential as self-determining individuals. The image on page 99 thus confronts us with a strikingly active ideal of the child; one that horrified and delighted onlookers. It is just one of many images of children that highlight the importance of children and childhood to empire.

Youth and Empire argues that children, as both a cultural category and a social group, constituted a principal point around which empire was made in modern times. It shows how children’s lives and ideas about childhood changed as they travelled in connected places in East and Southeast Asia. The book moves the field of imperial history beyond its predominantly nationalist moorings, in the direction of comparative colonial studies. It breaks the bounds of Indo-centric empire history that – despite lots of calls for new transnational imperial narratives – still predominate for the modern period. It illuminates the subtle manner in which metropolitan and colonial discourses and practices relating to childhood intersected and interacted, and how their articulations changed over time. The book demonstrates the benefits of viewing the past from a variety of methodological vantage points, integrating the insights of ostensibly rival approaches of political, cultural/intellectual and social history. It doing so it speaks to a growing interdisciplinary audience of scholars and students working on empires, to specialists working in British or French imperialism, in regional (Asian) colonial studies, and in the interdisciplinary field of the history of childhood.
Learn more about Youth and Empire at the Stanford University Press website.

--Marshal Zeringue

Sunday, June 12, 2016

Joseph Persky's "The Political Economy of Progress: John Stuart Mill and Modern Radicalism"

Joseph Persky is Professor of Economics at the University of Illinois at Chicago. His work takes distributional questions as central to both history and current policy. His articles have appeared in a number of journals, including the American Economics Association's Journal of Economic Perspectives, where he is the informal editor of the Retrospectives feature. Persky is the author of The Burden of Dependency, an exploration of the history of economic thought in the Southern U.S. He is a co-author of When Corporations Leave Town, and Does "Trickle Down" Work?, both concerned with distributional implications of metropolitan economic development strategies. Persky's politics slant to the labor left.

Persky applied the “Page 99 Test” to his new book, The Political Economy of Progress: John Stuart Mill and Modern Radicalism, and reported the following:
Page 99 starts a discussion of British agrarianism's influence on John Stuart Mill's approach to land reform. As such most of the page is a fairly standard treatment of the "True Levellers" or Diggers. The line is strongly influenced by Christopher Hill. There are a couple of good quotes from Gerrard Winstanley. In one he argues that the "'Creator Reason' had fashioned the world as a 'Common Treasury'...But the earth has been "hedged in to In-closures by the teachers and rulers, and the others were made Servants and Slaves."

Interesting stuff, but not all that original.

Then I noticed part of a section introduction sitting at the very top of the page:
Mill eschewed broad calls for the expropriation and direct redistribution of land...Rather, his proposals paralleled the approach Britain had taken with respect to slave holders [i.e. compensation].
Reading that over, I felt better about the present exercise (and Ford Madox Ford’s proposition). For at the heart of the book is a reading of Mill that emphasizes his deeply radical vision, his conviction that progress makes possible meaningful change, and his fear of chaotic leveling. That thesis is at least partially suggested by the above quote. Mill anticipated the peaceful emancipation of labor, land, and capital. Over time, the wealth generated by the technological advancements of the industrial revolution would allow the compensation of slave owners, landlords and capitalists, while the working classes created a co-operative world that required their active participation and allowed their individual development. The book goes on to argue that from Marx to G.A. Cohen and the luck egalitarians, modern radicalism has been very much influenced by this political economy of progress, even though it has often failed to appreciate fully the coherence of Mill’s vision.
Learn more about The Political Economy of Progress at the Oxford University Press website.

--Marshal Zeringue