Showing papers in "The Journal of American History in 1986"
TL;DR: In their new Introduction, the authors relate the argument of their book both to the current realities of American society and to the growing debate about the country's future as mentioned in this paper, which is a new immediacy.
Abstract: Meanwhile, the authors' antidote to the American sicknessa quest for democratic community that draws on our diverse civic and religious traditionshas contributed to a vigorous scholarly and popular debate. Attention has been focused on forms of social organization, be it civil society, democratic communitarianism, or associative democracy, that can humanize the market and the administrative state. In their new Introduction the authors relate the argument of their book both to the current realities of American society and to the growing debate about the country's future. With this new edition one of the most influential books of recent times takes on a new immediacy.\
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TL;DR: In a 1982 Newsweek article, a Nicaraguan, commenting on the caliber of Soviet military and economic support, complained that "the Russians treat us like Indians... they give us a few mirrors and trinkets" as discussed by the authors.
Abstract: In a 1982 Newsweek article, a Nicaraguan, commenting on the caliber of Soviet military and economic support, complained that "the Russians treat us like Indians . . . they give us a few mirrors and trinkets."1 This former Sandinista's complaint illustrates both Western culture's low estimation of "mirrors and trinkets" and its assumption of Indian naivete. The result of both has been a literarily satisfying but wholly inaccurate view of the role of "baubles, bangles, and beads" in Indian-white contact relations. Of course, the historical record is full of references to the Indians' attraction to "trinkets." At Narragansett Bay in 1524, Florentine navigator Giovanni de Verrazzano noted the high value that the Indians placed on wrought copper because of its red color and observed that they cared not for, nor valued, implements of steel and iron. Verrazzano also stated that of "those things which we gave them, they prized most highly the bells, azure crystals, and other toys to hang in their ears and about their necks." Nor was that enthusiastic response to European glass beads, copper bells, and other such goods an isolated incident. In Virginia, John Smith noted that the Indians were "generally covetous of copper, beads, & such like trash." Elsewhere we are told of bargaining between Smith and Powhatan, "who fixed his humor upon a few blew beads," and that "for a pound or two of blew beads he [Smith] brought over my king for 2 or 300 bushels of corne, yet parted good friends."2
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TL;DR: The American cant of newness, so pervasive in the general culture, is all the more remarkable for its capacity to penetrate even specialized professional discourses as discussed by the authors, and it is worth remembering that the original call for a new history in America came long ago, in the first decade of this century.
Abstract: The American cant of newness, so pervasive in the general culture, is all the more remarkable for its capacity to penetrate even specialized professional discourses. What a succession of "new" histories populate the profession's recent past: the new economic history, the new labor history, the new social history, the new urban history, the new political history, and other greater or lesser "news" too numerous to list. Although much intellectual excitement is associated with these newer modes of historical technique, they have provoked growing unease and discussion about the "problem" of synthesis. Beyond that worry is a deeper and ultimately fundamental one about the declining significance of history in the general intellectual culture of our time. History enrollments have dropped at universities, and history requirements have been reduced at all levels of education. Whereas history was once the common coin of intellectual and political discourse, today's journalists, writers, and intellectuals, to say nothing of political leaders, seem little inclined to attend to the work of our profession. Those who express worries about the apparent erosion of the place of history beyond our professional peers have tended to argue or to assume some correlation between the loss of a public following and the advent of newer historiographical modes and themes.1 If that perception is correct, we cannot but ask: Is it possible to reap the positive achievements of the new history without assuming such an attendant and quite ironic liability? Perhaps we should begin by taking a somewhat longer view of the new history in our time. It is worth remembering that the original call for a "new history" in America came long ago, in the first decade of this century. In their teaching at Columbia University and in their jointly written textbooks, Charles A. Beard and
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TL;DR: In this paper, the influence of the military on technological development over a broad range of history and in a variety of cases is examined, including the relationship between Army ordnance and the development of the "American system" of manufacturing.
Abstract: Building "star wars" weapons systems, so the opposing arguments run, will either conscript technological development and divert it from the civilian economy-or it will further spur "high" technology innovations that will benefit everyone. Either way, this is only the most recent example of the complex military-industrial conflict/symbiosis that has spanned American history, but that has not been subjected to thorough study and debate until recent years. In this book, historians of technology bring their special expertise to probing the influence of the military on technological development over a broad range of history and in a variety of cases. Bracketed by Merritt Roe Smith's overview and Alex Roland's bibliographic review, the case studies explore the relationship between Army ordnance and the development of the "American system" of manufacturing; the Army Corp of Engineers and the origin of modern management in the course of the expansion of the railroads; the Navy's adoption of the radio; Henry Ford's attempt to apply his mass-production methods to military ends in the building of the Eagle Boat; the Army's first large-scale employment of social scientists during World War II and their role in shaping the postwar research agenda; the Army Signal Corp's entrepreneurial role in the development of the transistor; the Navy's far-flung and well-funded postwar research and development program; and the social implications of military and "scientific" management styles, in particular the efforts to militarize management practices in the civilian sector. The case studies are the work of David K. Allison, Peter Buck, Susan J. Douglas, David A. Hounshell, Thomas J. Misa, David F. Noble,Charles F. O'Connell, Jr., and the editor, Merritt Roe Smith, who is Professor of The History of Technology in the Program in Science, Technology, and Society at MIT.
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TL;DR: For instance, this article pointed out that political history is outmoded, epiphenomenal, "mired in the superficial and the transitory," and that the historian's next frontier is political history.
Abstract: When someone tells you, as I am about to tell you, that the historian's next frontier is political history, there would appear to be only one sensible response: You have got to be kidding. For if there is one lesson we have surely been taught over the past generation, it is that political history is outmoded, epiphenomenal, "mired in the superficial and the transitory."' In the introduction to his indispensable survey, The Past before Us, Michael Kammen has written: "It seems fair to say that political history is no longer the focal point for historical scholarship."2 And Paul Goodman has pointed out: "In its recent assessment of the prospects and achievements of American history, Reviews in American History published no essay on the field of political history, an omission that probably escaped the notice of many readers, or if it did not, went unlamented."3 No one summed up the situation better than Peter H. Smith at the beginning of this decade: "The new concern is with the daily lives of ordinary people, a trend that offers a clear prognostication for political history in the 1980s: there will not be much of it."4 Dissatisfaction with traditional chronicle is not new-after all, Ambrose Bierce long ago characterized history as "an account mostly false, of events mostly unimportant, which are brought about by rulers mostly knaves, and soldiers mostly
TL;DR: Clarence Dean started as a scrapper at the Sloss-Sheffield Steel and Iron Company in Birmingham, Alabama, in 1933 as discussed by the authors and was promoted to "lineman," the worker who put the iron into the pig molds, and years later to "troughman," but he stopped there in the department's ultimate "black" job.
Abstract: Clarence Dean started as a "scrapper" at the Sloss-Sheffield Steel and Iron Company in Birmingham, Alabama, in 1933. For twelve hours each day, Dean, a wiry eighteen-year-old, directed the flow of molten iron as it poured out of a blast furnace and ran down a trough into pig-iron molds. "It was a man-killer," he said later, referring to the 150-degree temperatures around the blast furnace. "You'd be wet from the time you hit the clock." But the heat bothered Dean less than the job discrimination in the furnace department. He was promoted to "lineman," the worker who put the iron into the pig molds, and years later to "troughman," but he stopped there in the department's ultimate "black" job. Dean coveted the position of "iron pourer," leader of the furnace crew. "The iron pourer was a white man's job," he later explained. 1 He pursued the job. "What about me trying out on pouring iron?" Dean asked his supervisors. "We ain't going to give niggers no white folks' jobs," they replied. Through the years Dean trained white workers to be iron pourers. "They'd tell me, 'Clarence, take care of Mr. Sam, take care of Mr. Robert."' In the early 1960s he confronted his boss with the federal government's new order against job discrimination. "You got to give me a chance on that iron pouring job," Dean said to the superintendent. "I run this place; you do what I say," the superintendent answered. "I am the senior man around here," Dean continued; "I say you ought to give me a break on this iron pouring." The superintendent responded angrily, "I'm going to tell you right now: I ain't going to give none of you niggers these white folks' jobs." But not long afterward the superintendent's assistant took Dean aside and offered him the job. "The superintendent said ain't no nigger going to get no white man's job," Dean reminded. "It's been a change," the assistant superintendent admitted.2
TL;DR: Long argues that the meaning of the American dream has changed dramatically, but in a more complex fashion than has been recognised by that country's most prominent social critics as discussed by the authors, and presents a challenge to prevailing social-scientific views of contemporary American culture, and represents an important contribution to the study of culture and social criticism.
Abstract: This title, originally published in 1985, examines conceptions of success and the good life expressed in bestselling novels – ranging from historical sagas and spy thrillers to more serious works by Updike, Bellows, Steinbeck and Mailer – published from 1945 to 1975. Using these popular books as cultural evidence, Elizabeth Long argues that the meaning of the American dream has changed dramatically, but in a more complex fashion than has been recognised by that country’s most prominent social critics. Her study presents a challenge to prevailing social-scientific views of contemporary American culture, and represents, both in theory and method, an important contribution to the study of culture and social criticism.
TL;DR: In this article, a summary and assessment of the strategic bombing efforts in Europe during World War II is presented, focusing on the costs and accomplishments of the bombing, on what bombing did and did not do, and on lessons, morality, and criticisms.
Abstract: As interest in World War II increases, it releases what seems to be a never-ending flood of literature. While the volume of this material is staggering, gaps and controversial areas remain. One especially troublesome subject is strategic bombing. Although much has been written about the bombing, few studies merit either the term "analytical" or the term "scholarly." First-person and journalistic accounts of derring-do predominate. Perhaps in no other field of history do so many "feel" and believe so much, rely on so little analysis and proof, and yet write so much.' The following is a summary and assessment of the strategic bombing efforts in Europe during World War II. It focuses on the costs and accomplishments of the bombing, on what bombing did and did not do. Other aspects of the bombing, such as lessons, morality, and criticisms, are left to other studies.
TL;DR: The Office of War Information (OWI) played a crucial role in trying to mobilize black support and in interpreting American race relations to an international audience during World War II as discussed by the authors.
Abstract: White America fought World War II as a remarkably unified country. In black America, however, a strong current of apathy, and sometimes barely muted opposition to the Allies, was evident. For blacks the war brought into sharp relief their duality in American society. Franklin D. Roosevelt identified Allied war aims with democracy's Four Freedoms. But Walter White, executive secretary of the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People (NAACP), pointed out that blacks had to "fight for the right to fight" for democracy. Horace Cayton, a Chicago sociologist and black leader, posed the issue starkly in December 1941: "Am I a Negro first and then a policeman or soldier second, or should I forget in any emergency situation the fact that . . . my first loyalty is to my race?" Millions of blacks had to ask themselves that question during World War II.1 That potential fissure in the drive for mass mobilization alarmed wartime policy makers. As the agency charged with interpreting war aims to the public and arousing mass support for the war, the Office of War Information (OWI) played a crucial, if little known, role in trying to mobilize black support and in interpreting American race relations to an international audience. This article analyzes the racial aspects of OWI's propaganda campaign, in particular its longest-lived and most significant effort its liaison with Hollywood motion-picture studios. Although black leaders and OWI policy makers hoped to work together to improve Hollywood's portrayal of people of color, the objectives of black leaders and those of the propagandists proved to be incompatible.2
TL;DR: The modern American electoral system took recognizable shape between 1880 and 1910 as discussed by the authors, marking what historians and political scientists have recognized as a sea change in American politics-the "collapse of an earlier political universe" and the creation of "both a quantitatively and qualitatively different electorate" from that of the nineteenth century.
Abstract: The modern American electoral system took recognizable shape between 1880 and 1910. Party loyalties, which had been strong and durable since the 1830s, weakened, and party organizations relinquished many of the methods they had formerly used to rally their supporters. Voter turnout at the polls declined, and new evidence of electoral independence, as well as apathy, appeared. Together these developments marked what historians and political scientists have recognized as a sea change in American politics-the "collapse of an earlier political universe" and the creation of "both a quantitatively and qualitatively different electorate" from that of the nineteenth century.1 Although briefly reversed during the New Deal era, the electoral trends established early in the 1900s have prevailed in American politics ever since. Particularly within recent decades, rates of voter participation have resumed the downward slide begun around the turn of the century, and the political parties have encountered renewed challenges to their popularity and even to their legitimacy. The political changes of the 1880-1910 era are well documented, and most historians agree on the developments that were broadly responsible for causing them. In the most general terms, urbanization and industrialization placed new demands on government that the parties had difficulty meeting and called forth interest groups that assumed many of the parties' old functions. New election laws, adopted in response to dissatisfaction with the existing system, changed and regulated the parties' behavior and encouraged the decline of voter turnout. Among the most important innovations were the Australian ballot, voter registration, the direct primary, and woman suffrage. Especially between 1905 and 1917, the spirit of progressive reform spread and intensified
TL;DR: Pohick Church was built as a result of Washington and Mason's joint collaboration, combining Washington's surveying skills to select the site convenient to both families with the work of Mason's British architect as discussed by the authors.
Abstract: In Northern Virginia, south of Alexandria, at a point equidistant from George Washington's home, Mount Vernon, and George Mason's home, Gunston Hall, stands the beautiful red brick Pohick Episcopal Church. From the founding period to the present it has remained an active church, keeping alive by oral tradition and church record the worship habits of two famous neighbors, the Washingtons and the Masons. It identifies Washington, the founder of the Republic, and Mason, the father of the Virginia Declaration of Rights, as members of an Anglican vestry responsible for oversight of church properties and the physical care of needy communicants. Pohick Church was built as a result of Washington and Mason's joint collaboration, combining Washington's surveying skills to select the site convenient to both families with the work of Mason's British architect. According to the oral tradition that has preserved the memory of Washington's religious practices, the first President attended church faithfully when he was at home, giving attendance at worship precedence over his domestic duty of offering hospitality to visiting dignitaries. Washington and Mason were sometime political allies, as when Washington carried the Fairfax Resolves, authored by Mason, to Williamsburg in 1774. Yet they profoundly disagreed on the propriety of state ratification of the federal Constitution absent a Bill of Rights. But Pohick Church is still a reminder that these two political stalwarts shared religious duties and exercised their religion together, reflecting what it meant to be orthodox Anglican churchmen in the colonies in the mid-eighteenth century, but being neither enlightenment deists nor evangelical enthusiasts. Perceptions of the religious character of historical figures are often preserved by the memory of the community of which a person was a member, rather than in written records or other materials that historians typically consult. Washington is an important example of
TL;DR: A collection of 20 essays, by a distinguished panel of specialists in British and American history, explores the complex political, economic, intellectual, religious, and social environment in which William Penn lived and worked as mentioned in this paper.
Abstract: A collection of 20 essays, by a distinguished panel of specialists in British and American history, that explores the complex political, economic, intellectual, religious, and social environment in which William Penn lived and worked.
TL;DR: As a skillful administrator, Anslinger used the organizational structure of the FBN as a power base from which he supervised the conduct of United States antinarcotic policy and secured the passage of the Marihuana Tax Act of 1937, the Boggs Act of 1951, and the Narcotic Control Act of 1956-all of which strengthened federal drug control laws.
Abstract: The creation of the Federal Bureau of Narcotics (FBN) in 1930 marked the inception of an integrated domestic and foreign narcotic control program in the United States.' An antiopium conference held in Shanghai twenty-one years earlier had convinced United States officials that drug limitation involved more than ad hoc law enforcement. Effective control required a policy that took into account a variety of internal and external considerations. Despite that recognition, the United States had failed prior to the establishment of the FBN to devise a unified antidrug strategy.2 Harry Jacob Anslinger of Pennsylvania, the commissioner of narcotics from 1930 to 1962, would undertake that task. Anslinger's statutory authority allowed him considerable flexibility in the formulation of drug control policy. The commissioner was empowered to regulate commerce in drugs used for medical and scientific purposes, to enforce federal narcotic laws, and to assist the State Department in conducting antidrug diplomacy. As a skillful administrator, Anslinger used the organizational structure of the FBN as a power base from which he supervised the conduct of United States antinarcotic policy. A record of maintaining and expanding his bureau's budget and staff testifies to the commissioner's managerial talents. Evidence, too, of his bureaucratic expertise can be seen in his efforts to secure the passage of the Marihuana Tax Act of 1937, the Boggs Act of 1951, and the Narcotic Control Act of 1956-all of which strengthened federal drug control laws. In addition, he managed to keep the FBN intact despite attempts by several administrations to revamp the federal bureaucracy. In the mid-
TL;DR: The most recent effort to revise the system for electing a president was undertaken in 1979, when a constitutional amendment, moved by Sen. Birch E. Bayh, Jr., of Indiana and endorsed by President Jimmy Carter, was soundly defeated as mentioned in this paper.
Abstract: With the approach of the bicentennial of the adoption of the Constitution, attention is once again focused on the drafting of that remarkable instrument of government. Among the provisions of the Constitution assured of closer examination is the one dealing with the Electoral College, the system devised by the Founding Fathers for the election of a chief executive.' No other constitutional provision gave them so much difficulty in its formulation. The subject of the method of electing a president was brought up in the Constitutional Convention on twenty-one different days and occasioned over thirty distinct votes on various phases of the subject. Over the years no other provision has drawn so much criticism or provoked so many constitutional amendments as has the Electoral College clause. Close to seven hundred proposals to amend the Electoral College scheme have been introduced into Congress since the Constitution was inaugurated in 1789. The most recent effort to revise the system for electing a president was undertaken in 1979, when a constitutional amendment, moved by Sen. Birch E. Bayh, Jr., of Indiana and endorsed by President Jimmy Carter, to institute popular election of the president, was soundly defeated.2 Two main interpretations have been put forward to explain the adoption of the Electoral College provision. On the one hand, the Progressive school, represented by such writers as J. Allen Smith and Charles Beard, maintained that the complicated, indirect method instituted for selecting a chief executive was a reflection of the Founding Fathers' deep distrust of democracy. The Framers, according to that
TL;DR: The claim and fear that presidents play politics with foreign policy, especially in electoral seasons, is familiar and often well founded as mentioned in this paper, and it has been proven that presidents take unusual and sometimes extreme diplomatic or military steps, utter hyperboles, practice deceit, or manufacture foreign crises to improve their own and their party's chances at the polls.
Abstract: "I told you that the President would move on Cuba before [the] election," Sen. Norris Cotton of New Hampshire reminded his constituents a week after President John F. Kennedy had dramatically announced that the United States was imposing a quarantine against Cuba to force Soviet missiles from the Caribbean island. Another Republican standing for reelection in 1962, Rep. Thomas B. Curtis of Missouri, told voters in his district that the Cuban missile crisis was "phony and contrived for election purposes." Republican Sen. Barry Goldwater of Arizona, like many others, suspected that the Kennedy administration had played politics with foreign policy to help Democrats in the congressional elections of November 6.1 The claim and fear that presidents play politics with foreign policy, especially in electoral seasons, is familiar and often well founded. Throughout American history, suspicions have flourished that presidents take unusual and sometimes extreme diplomatic or military steps, utter hyperboles, practice deceit, or manufacture foreign crises to improve their own and their party's chances at the polls. Like political leaders before him, Kennedy had invited imputations that he exploited foreignpolicy issues for political gain or that he made diplomatic decisions in response to domestic political pressure. Indeed, about a month before the missile crisis, Kennedy had made a conspicuous political decision in foreign affairs: to sell Hawk missiles to Israel. American Jews had lobbied intensely for the sale; some of them had even withheld contributions from congressional candidates until they saw Kennedy act on the deal. The sale of those short-range missiles, the administration