Confused Categories: Russia and the East-West Divide in William Plomer’s Sado

Modernizing the Mikado: Japan, Japanism and the Limitations of the Avant-garde

Coronavirus disease 2019 (COVID-19) deaths per million population in the countries of the West had often exceeded those in the countries of the East by factor of 100 by May 2021. In this paper, we refer to the West as represented by the United States plus the five most populous countries of Western Europe (France, Germany, Italy, Spain, and the United Kingdom), and the East as the 15 countries in East Asia and Oceania that are members of the Regional Comprehensive Economic Partnership, RCEP (Australia, Brunei, Cambodia, China, Indonesia, Japan, the Republic of Korea, Laos, Malaysia, Myanmar, New Zealand, Philippines, Singapore, Thailand, and Vietnam). This paper argues that currently available information points to the factors most responsible for the East–West divide. Warnings by early January 2020 about an atypical viral pneumonia in Wuhan, China, prompted rapid responses in many jurisdictions in East Asia. Publication of the virus’s genome on 10 January 2020 provided essential information for making diagnostic tests and launching vaccine development. China’s lockdown of Wuhan on 23 January 2020 provided a final, decisive signal of the danger of the new disease. By late March 2020, China had fully controlled its epidemic, and many other RCEP countries had taken early and decisive measures, including restrictions on travel, that aborted serious outcomes. Inaction during the critical month of February 2020 in the United States and most other Western countries allowed the disease to take hold and spread. In both the East and the West, stringent population-wide non-pharmaceutical interventions were widely implemented at great cost to societies, economies, and school systems. Without these measures, the outcomes could have been even worse. Most countries in the East also implemented tightly focused policies to isolate infectious individuals. Even today, most countries in the West allow infectious individuals to mingle with their families, coworkers, and communities. Much of the East–West divide plausibly results from failure in the West to implement the basic public health policies of early action and the isolation of infectious individuals. Widespread immunization in some RCEP and high-income countries will soon attenuate their outbreaks, while the slow rollout of vaccines in lower income countries is replacing the East–West divide in outcomes with a North–South one. The South is thus replacing the West as the breeding ground for more dangerous variants as exemplified by the highly contagious Delta variant, which may undermine hitherto successful control strategies in many countries.

We provide a comparison of salient organizational features of primary markets for foreign government debt over the very long run. We focus on output, quality control, information provision, competition, pricing, charging and signaling. We find that the market set up experienced a radical transformation in the recent period and interpret this as resulting from the rise of liability insurance provided by rating agencies. Underwriters have given up their former role as gatekeepers of liquidity and certification agencies to become aggressive competitors in a new speculative grade market.

In 1926 a new shipping route was established between Durban and Osaka, on which Laurens van der Post and William Plomer, fresh from their collaboration as writers for the literary magazine Voorslag, embarked as privileged passengers. The opportunity to reside in Japan would exercise a profound influence over the literary output of both figures, though in considerably different ways. This article revisits the 1926 sojourn in Japan as a formative moment in the lives of two South African writers that would subsequently be reformed, and to some extent deformed in their writings following the atomic bombing of Hiroshima in August 1945. Though the sojourn itself deserves restitution to the annals of South African literary history, its true value, the author argues, does not lie in enlarging our understanding of literary trends associated with the interwar years so much as isolating the specific challenges and transmutations those self-same trends underwent in the aftermath of the atomic holocaust. As each writer struggled to reformulate his subjectivity, a prophetic mode of writing became increasingly central as a framing device by which Hiroshima could be “contained” and “approached” from afar. The events of 1926, along with van der Post's experience of imprisonment under the Japanese during the war years, were mobilized in the authorial imagination to serve that purpose.

The Idea of the Muslim World: A Global Intellectual History

Cunning Distortions: Folk Christianity and Witchcraft Allegations in Early Mormon History

IN MARCH 1875, A CHICAGO TRIBUNE CORRESPONDENT reported that a miners’ strike in Brazil, Indiana, continued with conditions worsening and the “breach between labor and capital widen[ing].” The year-long labor dispute found the striking miners “dogged and sullen” and was taking a dreadful toll on the men and their families. Many of the town's merchants initially supported the strike, but they increasingly feared violence would ensue as the striking miners became more vigilant and defiant. One merchant stated that he had witnessed other strikes, but none of them had “men so determined not to yield,” and he believed it would be necessary to bring in the military to prevent an outbreak of violence. The Tribune correspondent predicted that a “revolution in labor” was imminent because the desperate mine operators were willing to hire Black workers to take the place of the striking miners. The mine operators were “confident that, if negro labor [was] adopted unanimously, it [would] completely and effectively crush strikes, which [had] become so frequent and arrogant of late as to make any dependence on white labor impracticable.” African American workers, according to the correspondent, were more dependable than white laborers, and they would not become “turbulent at trifles, and for many other reasons that are apparent.” As a result, some midwestern mine operators had already arranged to fill their mines with Black workers, and “others will follow suit.”1The newspaper correspondent's prediction about a “revolution in labor” was accurate—during the height of labor unrest in the late 1870s, Northern industrialists sought measures to undercut the burgeoning labor movement by importing African American workers from the South into their predominantly European American worksites. Industrialists were encouraged by two overarching factors: first, Black workers from the South traditionally earned lower wages than their Northern counterparts and would therefore cost less; and more importantly, due to racist exclusionary measures, as well as the relatively small African American population in the North, semi-skilled and skilled worksites were dominated by European American workers. Industrialists correctly assumed that the racism of their workers would cause an exceedingly vitriolic reaction to the idea of Black workers replacing them. In addition to the typical labor conflict issues, racialized violence would invariably ensue. Industrialists then found justification to utilize draconian measures on the strikers—enforced by local militia or police—to ensure that the replacement workers would be allowed to work in relative safety, and to ensure that industrialists continued to make profits.2This racial dynamic became increasingly prevalent throughout the Midwest as rapid industrialization and massive population growth created whole new categories of workers. European American workers braced themselves for the possibility of a chaotic economic transformation by frantically jockeying for occupational viability within the racial hierarchy. In the environment of an increasingly racialized labor movement, Black and other non-white workers, with few exceptions, were forced to the bottom of the economic ladder.Among midwestern states, Illinois was particularly distinct due, in part, to the massive growth of Chicago as a central industrial hub for the region. In comparison to adjacent midwestern states, Illinois was also unique because of its relatively small African American population. By 1890, the African American population in Illinois was only 57,028 (1.5 percent of the state population); in 1900, 85,078 (1.8 percent of the state population). The dearth of a substantial Black population, coupled with a significant rise in anti-Black sentiment throughout the state, helped to create the perception that African American workers were unable to perform technologically advanced labor. Thus, Black Illinoisans of the late nineteenth century were often forced out or excluded from more desirable occupations and, subsequently, forced to the periphery of the labor movement.This article explores the labor activism of Black Illinoisans during the tumultuous late nineteenth century in the context of this relatively new phenomenon—that is, the racialization of labor. Of course, historians generally acknowledge this period as the Second Industrial Revolution in the United States. Yet for African Americans, the period also signified a time in which their racial “character” was under severe scrutiny—not only in labor, but also in virtually every aspect of Black American life. Notions of white racial superiority invariably circumscribed Black people as inferior outsiders—undeserving of a place within mainstream American life. Thus, to most European Americans, it made perfect sense within the twisted logical framework of white supremacy to categorize labor based upon race.In the context of heightened anti-Black sentiment, Black Illinoisans were faced with a difficult decision: should they remain with the larger labor movement that increasingly viewed them as “inferior” workers? While the European American working class famously fought for labor issues such as unionization, safer working conditions, and the eight-hour workday, Black Illinoisans during the nineteenth century also supported these issues. Yet Black workers were forced into a hybrid labor activism—an activism where they fought for their rights not only as workers but also as workers who were gradually excluded from higher-skilled occupations based upon their race. In addition to the racialized occupational environment, Black workers were also forced into a battle for their civil rights during the late nineteenth century as they fought against the inimical rise in white supremacy throughout the United States.The concept of racializing labor was not entirely novel to Northern industries. As historian Jacqueline Jones explained, white Northerners had always expressed their apprehension over emancipating Black people from slavery in moralistic terms. As early as the eighteenth century, they claimed that free Black laborers had shown a lack of restraint in public—displaying “racial” behavior that European American city dwellers found galling. Various groups of African American workers came under attack by the early nineteenth century for advertising for services in a supposedly unseemly fashion. For European American workers, their goal was to maintain their advantageous position in the workplace, and any other socio-political aspect in which there was the perception of losing ground within the racial hierarchy. Thus, European American workers developed new forms of self-definition that would establish a sharper distinction between “white” and “Black” labor.3One of the earliest and staunchest proponents for disrupting the burgeoning labor movement through racialization was co-owner of the Chicago, Wilmington, and Vermillion Coal Company (CW&V) Alanson Sweet. He quickly developed a reputation for slashing wages and firing workers when he forced workers at the Michigan Central Railroad Company to take a pay cut during a dispute in 1862. Workers that protested were fired and replaced with African American workers from the South.4 Sweet believed that the reaction of his predominantly white workforce would be intensified with the importation of an all-Black strikebreaking unit that would likely lead to violence. When violence inevitably ensued, Sweet and his co-owners were then able to utilize state-sponsored protection to ensure the protection of both his imported workers and his property.5As a co-owner of the CW&V in Braidwood, Illinois, during an economic depression, once again, Sweet reduced workers’ wages. Predictably, the unionized miners refused any pay cuts and went on strike. After some convincing, the CW&V co-owners acquiesced to Sweet's ideas on importing African American men to disrupt the conflict. “With the mines filled with colored men,” he assured his fellow owners and stockholders, “it is believed that the Company will not be burdened with the expense of another strike for many years.”6 The CW&V co-owners may have been willing to agree to Sweet's concept due to their past failures. In an 1874 labor dispute with their workers, both recently arriving European immigrants and white workers were recruited as strikebreakers. Instead of being a disruptive force, the replacement miners met with the striking Braidwood miners, became informed of the ongoing labor dispute, and were subsequently convinced to leave. Significantly, the workers left relatively peaceably within days of their arrival.7The nation was in the throes of a massive railroad strike starting in July 1877. Wage cuts, and generally poor conditions and treatment touched off a nationwide strike that shut down most of the nation's railroads. The Chicago Times observed that the arrival of African American workers, combined with the news of the national railroad strike created an “anxious mood” among the Braidwood miners, and “it would take but very little to cause an outbreak in this place.” When the African American workers arrived in Braidwood, there were no friendly meetings. Instead, the striking Braidwood miners gave them an ultimatum: leave town “peaceably or forcibly.” Fearing trouble, some of the miners left town.8 However, when Sweet and the CW&V ownership alerted Illinois governor Shelby Cullom of the intimidation tactics, the state militia was brought in to restore the Black miners to their jobs. The next day, 1,250 Illinois state militia were called into Braidwood to quell the conflict, and if the strikers resisted, “the troops [would] make short work of them.” The CW&V owners understood that an escalation in violence could possibly lead to such measures—and these measures would ensure that the African American workers would be protected and allowed to work in the mines.9Convinced that order could be maintained, and the African American miners would be allowed to remain in the mine shafts, the state militia left Braidwood several weeks later. Although relative peace did prevail after the departure of the state militia, the strike continued another four months. The Braidwood strike of 1877 was the longest strike in United States’ history (to that date) and took an enormous toll on the lives of the strikers and their families. With winter approaching in November 1877, the weary miners finally gave in and ended the strike. The owner's desire to destroy the miners’ union was successful, and the company refused to hire the union leaders as well. Feeling victimized by the CW&V owners, many miners complained bitterly about working alongside the African American strikebreakers who they believed had done “all they possibly could to assist capital to crush labor.”10 For the CW&V owners, the reaction of the Braidwood miners to the importation of African Americans into the mines was the crucial element in their victory. If white and immigrant miners did not react violently, the owners would not have brought in the state militia to see that their mines and their replacement workers were protected.Race relations remained strained in the Braidwood mines during the immediate years after the strike. Nevertheless, African American miners remained in Braidwood and continued to work in the mines. At least half of the seven hundred miners in Braidwood were African American; by 1880, there were 703 Black men and their families living in the surrounding area (compared to 242 in 1870). Institutions such as the Colored Odd Fellows lodge and the First Baptist Church were established in 1878 to support the town's African American community. Reverend T. C. Fleming, who was one of the strikebreakers during the 1877 strike, was the pastor of the church.11 Despite establishing themselves as viable workers in the mines, and decent citizens in Braidwood, the small African American population continued to experience difficulties in town and the workplace.While the African American miners at Braidwood established a reputation for being viable workers and willing union men, their white counterparts insisted on following national racist trends in the workplace. Moses Gordon, an African American miner among those imported from Virginia, observed: “[African Americans] could no more get work here until the year 1877 than they could fly. . . . [I]t was the miners themselves who would come out on strike before they would allow the negro to earn his daily bread.” White workers increasingly drew the color line in the workplace and the major labor unions in the late nineteenth century. Significantly, Gordon also noted that CW&V owners fired African American workers that joined unions. Thus, the racialization of labor worked as a two-pronged attack against Black workers during the industrial era: As discriminatory policies against non-white citizens in the United States became the norm, and therefore accepted by the dominant racial group, employers increasingly utilized African Americans as strikebreakers in order to disrupt unionization. African American workers were either shunned from major labor unions by white union members who refused to allow them to join, or, as in the case in Braidwood, African American workers were threatened with termination. On the other hand, white workers—embracing the full social Darwinism of the late nineteenth century—and thus, completely accepting their collective place at the top of the racial hierarchy in American society—readily rejected African American workers from the most desirable occupations. As white workers wielded more bargaining power in the last decade of the nineteenth century, they insisted on the racialization of both the workplace and their labor unions. Gordon remarked on how this racist process in Braidwood would affect the working class: “Every nationality on the face of the globe can come here and go to work wherever there is work to be had, except for the colored man, and in nine cases out of ten the miners are to blame for it. A house divided against itself cannot stand. If the laboring class fights capital for their rights, they have enough to do without fighting against six millions [sic] of people that have got to earn their bread by the sweat of their brow.”12Strikebreaking served as an occupational and economic weapon against the racialization of labor for men like Moses Gordon. As labor historian Eric Arnesen explained, strikebreaking was a viable form of working-class activism for African Americans as they sought to strengthen their economic position during the labor upheaval of post-Reconstruction America. The most important coal mining towns in Illinois followed the practice of racial exclusion. Strikebreaking not only allowed African American workers to gain entry into desirable industrial positions, but it also represented chances for low paid Southern African Americans to earn higher wages. Their decisions to become strikebreakers were often informed choices, rationalized by a complex and changing worldview that balanced their experiences as industrial workers, farmers, and African Americans. Indeed, these Black men were neither willing tools nor ignorant serfs—rather, they were poor and ambitious men who were often recruited by coal company agents, sometimes under false pretenses. During the nineteenth century, African Americans were never the only workers used as strikebreakers in Illinois or any other Northern state. Moreover, they were never the most used strikebreakers during the height of labor turbulence of the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. However, African Americans were usually the most visible strikebreakers because of American racism, and therefore, they were almost always the easiest targets for white working-class rage during the tumultuous labor disputes of this era.13As the Chicago Tribune correspondent predicted, other industrialists throughout the region adopted racialization as a weapon to squelch unionization among the working class. For example, in 1880, approximately one hundred African Americans were hired to replace striking coal miners in Rapids City, near Rock Island, Illinois. Tragedy struck immediately—one of the African American strikebreakers was shot and killed by a striking miner. That same year in Springfield, Illinois, mine owners resisted demands made by union officials and proceeded to import African American miners from Richmond, Virginia. The predominantly European American workforce was ordered to remove their tools from the mines and evacuate company houses. If any violence ensued, the mine operators, their property, and the African American workers, were all protected by local police officials. These drastic actions led to the demise of the union.14 In the summer of 1886, a strike for higher wages occurred in Vermillion County at Grape Creek. In this case, there was a small African American presence in the mines—yet they refused to strike with their European American coworkers. The African American miners belonged to the biracial Knights of Labor (KOL) union and refused to participate because it was “a white man's fight.” The Grape Creek operators brought in African American men from Tennessee and Kentucky under police protection. The conflict dragged out and defeated the strikers, as the mine operators brought in five to fifteen new African American workers each day.15 This pattern of racialization continued throughout Illinois during the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. According to data compiled by economic historian Warren Whatley, Illinois industrialists utilized Black strikebreakers more than any state during this period. However, while Black strikebreaking increased substantially during this period—especially in high-profile conflicts—they remained a relatively small percentage of the nation's strikebreaking force.16While Northern industrialists continued to recruit Black workers from the South during the late nineteenth century, they virtually ignored Northern Black workers. This omission was particularly glaring in Illinois and other midwestern states due to the dearth of African Americans living in the region. Approximately 90 percent of the African American population remained in the South, and it was simply easier to find and recruit Black labor in the South. Another more compelling reason had to do with the collective attitudes of African Americans living in the North. While Southern Black workers were cajoled relatively easily due to precarious economic condition or general lack of knowledge of a particular labor conflict in the North, Northern African Americans simply had more exposure to Northern labor strife. Although the Black population of Illinois was quite small, they gained a reputation as ferocious labor agitators during the late nineteenth century. Like their European American working-class counterparts, they also battled for workers’ rights. To be sure, African American workers in Illinois were occasionally used as strikebreakers during the late nineteenth century—there would be a collective shift in their attitude toward the labor movement by the turn of the twentieth century as white working-class racism became more pronounced. Yet prior to the full implementation of white supremacist ideas about allegedly inferior and superior workers based upon race, Black Illinoisans were not only a part of the labor movement, in some cases they were at the vanguard of the movement.During the summer of 1877, while the Braidwood mine operators were importing African American workers into their labor fracas, more than 150 Black longshoremen from Illinois disputed recent wage cuts against the Mississippi Valley Transportation Company (MVTC). Like their Braidwood counterparts, they too were inspired by the “Great Railroad Strike” and organized their own all-Black union. In solidarity with the national movement, the workers arranged a general strike against all Illinois, employers due to the recent wage When the owners were of the strike, they hired strikebreakers. The next the striking longshoremen on the and their and that they leave the When they refused to the longshoremen them by a of in their The longshoremen then after the to ensure that none of the strikebreakers would only a few but it created quite a throughout The observed that the longshoremen may well have been within their rights to strike for higher but they no to prevent from working who willing . . . to work for the The noted that by the strikebreakers off the the Black longshoremen were a for which they be a significant in how the African American workers were in When African American workers for their rights, they were often as or workers. In Black labor activism was often viewed as chaotic and While strikebreaking was generally in white working-class when Black workers fought to their economic the they should be a that [would] last them for all time to the Braidwood which and supported striking miners during their African American workers were viewed with throughout and as workers throughout Illinois sought the same measures in unionization as other workers prior to the full of racialization in labor. As early as 1877, the Knights of Labor (KOL) established as many as seven in Illinois that African American men and into their For many Black workers, the was more than a labor the of leaders and as a than any other union in their the were able to the for African American After the national railroad strike in 1877, labor leaders recruited Black workers to the to racist to workers. goal of the labor leaders was also to the of Black workers during an 1878 African Americans the supported the and the city and with the white Chicago continued to into one of the nation's industrial the of the city was for African Americans. The battle for skilled labor in a environment, was often a losing for African American for from the South. African American men often to racist racist white and workers with the of racist to Black men out of viable As a result, Black workers in Chicago were left with occupational and often found themselves to with national of the racialization of labor was in Chicago by the last of the nineteenth century. By 1890, African Americans were as the to be laborers, workers, or to the During that decade they represented only percent of the population percent of all in the occupational for Black of or no higher than railroad or were also tools for the of such as or who were who or the of and dwellers more and the to their To ideas of racial and economic the their to an One noted that African American men of slavery . . . and became a of to the of the African American men, as a Chicago were the they are by and to were not always to ideas of racial if it in wages. A could a sense of and the of the of the South, which could lead to a was a relatively novel idea in the nineteenth Yet any that these men would allow these to into their in labor issues of the would be an Black in were the of hybrid labor activism of the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. Black over pay In 1875, they out of throughout the during and in some of At the out because their new to He informed the all-Black that they would be to at the an before their and they would no be allowed to left over by practice that allowed workers to their out in during the and workers of all and were toward labor unionization in the Yet European American workers to follow nationwide discriminatory in labor unions by Black workers from union Black often with their own of labor activism that all-Black unions or biracial unions. For example, after the of the five Black from the in Chicago, were to their of the that were to citizens of every and and were informed that it was against the to of their in the The the men a in the where the and their while on The by the left for another where they were and served without in Chicago were to find a labor union that would their in fighting for their labor and civil rights. The them with the of unionization that they In 1886, created the Colored local and more than four hundred Black and during a The Chicago Times the the Knights had on the Black the union the colored and gave the with This represented the entry of African Americans into organized labor in Chicago and was followed within two years by a Black the which organized after from the of the Black in Chicago little time in their reputation as labor In two hundred African American joined nine hundred white in of the of and in wages. The biracial an of substantial for The owners to a through the workers by importing African American replacement workers to replace the white The between the workers was and the Black were enough to the strikebreakers to A year during another Black labor conditions, and they also the to become more about their rights and the labor was not one African American predicted, by would for their working-class men and in Illinois for more biracial union during the late nineteenth century. an African American of the that more Black workers to the union to themselves as a within the labor than a within the the for laboring men and was an of wages. have been

People in Motion: Introduction to Transnational Movements and Transwar Connections in the Anthropological and Genetic Study of Human Populations

The beginnings of psychological investigations in children are usually dated to the late nineteenth century in North America and Europe. However, the mental development in children had already been a topic of scholarly debate in early modernity and became a subject of increasing philosophical and pedagogical discussion in the eighteenth century, notably with the birth of the scientific genre of baby diaries in western Europe and, especially, Germany. Yet, toward the end of the nineteenth century, the terms of scholarly debate considerably changed due to both the rise of theories about biological and social evolution and the professionalization of psychology. In the child study movements in the United States and western Europe, the observation of early childhood development became a broad social and professional undertaking, often explicitly linked to efforts at social reform such as the child-saving and the women’s rights movements. These efforts were frequently framed in eugenic terms of improving the human “race” and preventing the spread of “defective” mental traits through techniques of breeding. At the same time, school children and adolescents moved into the focus of scientific pedagogy, statistical questionnaire studies, and mental testing. In the 1910s and 1920s, child psychology became an area of psychological specialization, notably through Rockefeller-funded research programs and institutes in the United States such as Arnold Gesell’s Child Developmental Clinic at Yale University and the Iowa Child Welfare Research Station. This development was not restricted to the United States, as renowned child psychological institutes also developed in several European countries. While these institutes focused on the study of the normal child, child guidance clinics specialized in the study of the “troublesome” or “maladjusted” child. These clinics often included interdisciplinary teams of physicians, clinical psychologists, and social workers, and contributed to both the professionalization of child psychiatry and a growing importance of psychodynamic and psychoanalytic approaches in child psychology. In the post–World War II period in the United States and most European countries, psychodynamic thinking dominated much of the field of child developmental research. In academic psychology, behavioristic approaches to child development continued to exist but tended to concentrate in specific fields of research such as theories of learning. In the 1960s and 1970s, much of this changed due to both a relative decline of psychoanalysis and the rise of cognitive psychology and the neurosciences. Within the historiography of psychology, child psychology has so far been a minor subject, and the most important body of scholarship concerns the child study movements and child developmental research in the interwar years. Non-Western, postcolonial, and global perspectives on child psychology have only received scarce attention. This entry will mainly follow a chronological and thematic order and prioritize recent English-language work in the field. The author is grateful for comments of an anonymous reviewer to an earlier version of this article. The article has benefited from funding from the Swiss National Science Foundation, research grant no. 193557.

"In The New Woman International, editors Elizabeth Otto and Vanessa Rocco have gathered a group of intellectually stimulating and provocative essays that present the emergence, both tentative and triumphant, of this new global icon and her increasingly multicultural image. Written largely by historians of art and film, these essays emphasize visual analysis of the photographic and film media that carried the new woman's influential message." ---Norma Broude, American University "The New Woman International focuses on the New Woman not simply as an image to be analyzed but also as a producer of images and text. This groundbreaking anthology represents a theoretically sophisticated set of essays that thoroughly examine the phenomenon of the New Woman in previously unexplored ways." ---Sarah E. Chinn, Hunter College, CUNY Images of flappers, garçonnes, Modern Girls, neue Frauen, and trampky---all embodiments of the dashing New Woman---symbolized an expanded public role for women from the suffragist era through the dawn of 1960s feminism. Chronicling nearly a century of global challenges to gender norms, The New Woman International: Representations in Photography and Film from the 1870s through the 1960s is the first book to examine modern femininity's ongoing relationship with the nineteenth and twentieth centuries' most influential new media: photography and film. This volume examines the ways in which novel ideas about women's roles in society and politics were disseminated through these technological media, and it probes the significance of radical changes in female fashion, appearance, and sexual identity. Additionally, these original essays explore the manner in which New Women artists used photography and film to respond creatively to gendered stereotypes and to reconceive of ways of being a woman in a rapidly modernizing world. The New Woman International brings together different generations of scholars and curators who are experts in gender, photography, literature, mass media, and film to analyze the New Woman from her inception in the later nineteenth century through her full development in the interwar period, and the expansion of her forms in subsequent decades. Arranged both chronologically and thematically, these essays show how controversial female ideals figured in discourses including those on gender norms, race, technology, sexuality, female agency, science, media representation, modernism, commercial culture, internationalism, colonialism, and transnational modernity. In exploring these topics through images that range from montages to newspapers' halftone prints to film stills, this book investigates the terms of gendered representation as a process in which women were as much agents as allegories. Inaugurating a new chapter in the scholarship of representation and New Womanhood and spanning North America, Western and Eastern Europe, Asia, and the colonial contexts of Africa and the Pacific, this volume reveals the ways in which a feminine ideal circled the globe to be translated into numerous visual languages. With a foreword from the eminent feminist art historian Linda Nochlin, this collection includes contributions by Jan Bardsley, Matthew Biro, Gianna Carotenuto, Melody Davis, Kristine Harris, Karla Huebner, Kristen Lubben, Maria Makela, Elizabeth Otto, Martha H. Patterson, Vanessa Rocco, Clare I. Rogan, Despina Stratigakos, Brett M. Van Hoesen, Kathleen M. Vernon, and Lisa Jaye Young. DIGITALCULTUREBOOKS: a collaborative imprint of the University of Michigan Press and the University of Michigan Library

Main trends of Turkish nationalism in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries

Notes on Contributors

This article is an attempt to bridge the gap existing in the current scientific reflection. Unlike in the United States and Western Europe, in Poland and other countries of the region no comprehensive reflection on the historical condition of women in science, their contribution to the development of individual disciplines, or individual mechanisms that affect the course of women’s careers etc. has been undertaken. The author presents the struggles of Polish women fighting for access to higher education, outlines the obstacles that had had to be overcome before the university doors were finally opened to female-scholars (which only happened at the end of the nineteenth century). Next, the first scientific achievements of female humanists were presented in the field of history. The experience of Polish female historians could be generalized. Their careers reflected the experiences of other women in science from Central and Eastern Europe in the nineteenth and twentieth century. The text consists of three parts; an introductory part shows women’s struggle for higher education. A second is dedicated to women – pioneers of scientific autonomy in the field of Polish history. The author presents the problem in chronological order including two epochs: the interwar period and the period of so-called real socialism. The third part contains conclusions and refers to the contemporary situation in Polish science.

This guide accompanies the following article: ‘I mak Bould to Wrigt’: First‐person Narratives in the History of Poverty in England, c. 1750–1900, History Compass 9/5 (2011): 365–373, DOI: 10.1111/j.1478‐0542.2011.00774.x Author’s Introduction Histories of the experience of poverty are hampered in the period before widespread literacy, owing to the infrequency with which the words of the poor could be inscribed privately and the mediated qualities of public or third‐party recordings (for example, where testimony was given by the poor in their capacity as defendants in criminal trials). Yet comprehension of the gradations of material poverty, and the social allegiances or divisions that it inspired, are vital to our understanding of nineteenth‐century society and can reveal some surprising disjunctions in what we think we know. Jane Humphries’ recent research on autobiographies recalling child labour, for instance, presses for a refocusing of our attention on the role of children in the industrial revolution. Therefore, a programme of work which considers the perceptions and experiences of poverty by drawing on first‐person testimonies can provide detailed insight into lived experience, and has the potential to destabilise our assumptions about the mass of ordinary working people. Author Recommends J. Burnett, D. Vincent and D. Mayall (eds.), The Autobiography of the Working Class. An Annotated Critical Bibliography (New York: New York University Press, 1984–1989), 3 volumes. A calendar of over 3000 working‐class autobiographies with an excellent index. Not all of the autobiographies listed have been published. R. Gagnier, Subjectivities. A History of Self‐Representation in Britain, 1832–1920 (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1991). A pioneering and interdisciplinary work about autobiography. J. Humphries, Childhood and Child Labour in the British Industrial Revolution (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2010). A recent work which deploys working‐class autobiographies as both qualitative and quantitative sources to reconfigure our understanding of children’s collective contribution to the industrial revolution. S. King, Poverty and Welfare in England 1700–1850 (Manchester: Manchester University Press, 2000). A textbook coverage of the transition from the old poor law to the new. P. Sharpe (eds.), Chronicling Poverty. The Voices and Strategies of the English Poor, 1640–1840 (Basingstoke: Macmillan, 1997). The published papers of a conference held in London in January 1995, drawing together some authors central to the debate about the use of narratives to analyse the experience of poverty (particularly pauper letters). K. D. M. Snell, Annals of the Labouring Poor. Social Change and Agrarian England, 1660–1900 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1985). A wide‐ranging book that considers a startling variety of testimonies including settlement examinations and fictional accounts of poverty. T. Sokoll (ed.), Essex Pauper Letters, 1731–1837 (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2001). An edited collection of the raw material, with useful introductory essays about how to scrutinise this genre. D. Vincent, Bread, Knowledge and Freedom. A Study of Nineteenth‐Century Working‐Class Autobiography (London: Methuen, 1981). An early attempt to make use of the calendaring of working‐class autobiographies, with a particular focus on the history of working‐class family life and experiences of education. Online Materials The Workhouse http://www.workhouses.org/ An excellent website providing information about the Poor Law, pictures of workhouses and extracts of sources relating to workhouse life. Charles Booth Online Archive http://www.lse.ac.uk/booth/ Includes original documents from his survey of London poverty 1886–1903. Syllabus for a course on English poverty, from the final decade of the eighteenth century to the first decade of the twentieth : published first‐person narratives from observers of the poor which may be mined to provide a focus for discussion include: C. Booth, Life and Labour of the People in London (1902). M. Higgs, Glimpse into the Abyss (1906). J. London, People of the Abyss (1903) [full text online at http://www.jacklondons.net/writings/PeopleOfTheAbyss/toc.html ] H. Mayhew, London Labour and the London Poor (1851–1862) volume 1 [full text online at Google books]. B. S. Rowntree, Poverty. A Study of Town Life (1901) [full text available via Google books], chapter 4. Texts written by the poor can be identified in Burnett et al. (referenced above). Topics for Lecture and Discussion Week I: Contexts and Methodologies: From Social History to Cultural History, and Back Again? Journal of Social History 37:1 (2003) [special edition considering the relationship between social and cultural histories]. Week II: Statutory Change: Out With the Old Poor Law, in With the New Suggested primary focus: C. Shaw, When I was a Child (1903), chapters 13 and 14 [which, at the time of writing, is being made available full‐text online at http://www.thepotteries.org/focus/011.htm ] OR J. Greenwood, ‘A Night in a Workhouse’, Pall Mall Gazette (1866), 12 January onwards [full text online at <jats:ext-link xmlns:xlink="http://www.w3.org/1999/xlink

In 1930, the British Colonial Office signed a formal agreement with Moshe Novomeysky, a Russian-Jewish mining engineer from Siberia, creating a British-Zionist company, Palestine Potash Ltd (PPL). This company was given exclusive rights over the extraction of mineral salts from the Dead Sea for a period of 50 years and was the predecessor to the massive industries found today on both the Israeli and Jordanian sides of the lake. From a British perspective, the Dead Sea industry proved to be one of the few success stories of the Palestine Mandate, although it remains virtually unexamined by historians. The project embodied much of the interwar emphasis on colonial development – construed at that time as the more intensive exploitation of natural resources found in imperial domains. The barren and seemingly lifeless quality of the landscape around the Dead Sea provided an irresistible piece of symbolism for those extolling the transformative capacity of Britain’s colonial presence in Palestine. The lake’s status in religious scripture as a sinful wilderness rendered this symbolism all the more powerful. To turn this hostile and cursed body of water into a thriving site of industrial modernity was to demonstrate everything that European colonial development was capable of in the new ‘Middle East’. At the same time, however, the Dead Sea development was built upon much older foundations laid during Europe’s period of ‘rediscovery’ of the Holy Land during the long nineteenth century. This chapter will therefore examine the creation of the Dead Sea industry as a product of a gradually encroaching western colonialism in Palestine that far predated the assumption of formal British rule in 1917. Over the course of the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries a kind of canon of expertise on the Dead Sea was compiled by western scientists and explorers, establishing the lake as a site of potential improvement and economic exploitation. In this body of work, only westerners were held capable of such a transformation as they were considered the only people able to view the natural environment from a detached, empirical perspective. The chapter will assess these claims in a critical light, demonstrating the extent to which sentimental attachment to the lake continually blurred the boundaries between science and religion, objectivity and subjectivity. So often in histories that examine the western ‘rediscovery’ of Palestine in the nineteenth century, the consequences for the period of direct British rule in the twentieth century are left untouched. This chapter bridges these two historiographical domains, showing that the Dead Sea’s status in the interwar years as one of Britain’s largest ‘undeveloped estates’ was heavily dependent on the years of exploration and discovery in the nineteenth century.