Early American versions of a homosexual-advances defence

Introduction

Civil wars have occurred often in the post–World War II era. Their frequency of initiation decreased after the collapse of the Soviet Union in 1991, but the persistence of these conflicts meant that there was not a dramatic decline after the end of the Cold War. The causes of civil wars and their consequences for the stability of the international environment have, however, changed dramatically in the last two-and-a-half decades. During the Cold War, most civil wars were proxy battles between the Soviet Union and the United States; both superpowers were interested in maintaining regimes that were sympathetic to their side. The Soviet Union was never interested in the promotion of democratic regimes. The United States professed a commitment to democracy, but when faced with a choice between a Communist or even left-leaning democracy and an autocrat who aligned his state with the West, the United States chose the latter. The strongly positive statistical relationship between per capita income and democracy, which holds for most of the period between 1820 and 2000, disappears during the Cold War, when both superpowers were more interested in external alignment than in democracy.1The impact of civil wars on the stability of the international system has increased during the twenty-first century. September 11, 2001, marks a watershed because, for at least some observers in the advanced industrialized world, the ability of transnational terrorists to destroy two of the tallest buildings and kill thousands of people in the commercial center of the most powerful country in the world, as well as to fly a commercial airliner into the command center of the most powerful military (an event that one of us witnessed first-hand from inside the Pentagon and the other witnessed from the State Department across the Potomac River) represented a sea change in the extent to which developments in poor and remote countries could affect even the strongest and most powerful. September 11 created an urgency that was absent during the 1990s, when major powers believed that they could walk away from war-torn countries such as Somalia with limited consequences for their own polities.Greater urgency however, has not led to agreement, even in the academic world, on two critical issues: First, what are the potential threats to stability that might emanate from civil wars and weak governance in poor and remote areas of the world? Second, what policy instruments, if any, can be deployed to treat civil wars and reduce the downstream effects on other states and global order? There are no consensus answers to any of these fundamental issues.Rather than trying to identify some common ground, which we do not believe exists, we offer our own assessment of the consequences of civil wars, the nature of civil wars, and possible interventions that external actors might most effectively pursue. Our judgments have been informed by the essays in this issue of Dædalus and in the previous issue, but are not dictated by them.Civil wars can impact the wealthiest and most powerful countries in the world. The most consequential potential impacts are transnational terrorism and pandemic diseases, global crises that could be caused by intrastate conflict. Civil wars might also lead to large-scale migration, regional instability, and potential great-power conflict. And high levels of intrastate violence and loss of government control can often give rise to massive criminality, though this is most effectively addressed through domestic law enforcement rather than international initiatives.The nature of civil wars varies. The most important distinction is between civil strife that is caused by the material or political interests of the protagonists and civil strife that is caused by transnational ideological movements. The latter, if successful, might threaten regional stability and even the stability of the contemporary international system that is based on sovereign statehood. Transnational ideological movements, which in the contemporary world are almost all associated with particular versions of Islam, base legitimacy on the divine and reject both existing boundaries and secular authority. While transnational movements claiming divine authority are more threatening to the existing international order, it is very difficult for such movements to secure material resources. Institutions that control these resources, primarily states but also international organizations, NGOs, and multinational corporations, are manifestations of the extant global order. When combatants in civil wars are motivated by material incentives and accept the principles of the existing international order, then the “standard treatment” for addressing civil strife- UN peacekeeping plus some foreign assistance-is the most effective option if combatants believe that they are in a hurting stalemate, and if there is agreement among the major powers. If, however, combatants reject the existing order, then the standard treatment will not work.Finally, based on most, but not all of the essays in these two issues of Dædalus, the opportunities for external interveners are limited. Countries afflicted by civil strife cannot become Denmark or be placed on the road to Denmark; they cannot be transformed into prosperous democratic states. The best that external actors can hope for is adequate governance in which there is security, the provision of some services especially related to health and possibly education, and some limited economic growth. This is true whether the standard treatment is applied or if one side can win decisively. More ambitious projects aimed at consolidated democracy, sustained economic growth, and the elimination of corruption are mostly doomed to fail and can be counterproductive regardless of whether the combatants are interested in seizing control of an existing state or are motivated by some alternative, divine vision of how political life might be ordered. National political elites in countries afflicted with civil strife will be operating in limited-access, rent-seeking political orders in which staying in power is their primary objective. National elites will not accept accountability, legal-rational bureaucracies, or free and fair elections, all of which would threaten their power.The essays in these two issues of Dædalus and the literature more broadly identify six threats from civil strife that might directly impact the wealthy and more powerful polities of the world, or the nature of the postwar liberal international order. The first two-pandemic diseases and transnational terrorism-are potentially the most consequential, although neither poses the kind of existential threat presented by war among nuclear armed states.Pandemic diseases. As the essay by Paul Wise and Michele Barry points out, since 1940, some four hundred new diseases have emerged among human populations.2 Most of these diseases have been zoonoses: disease vectors that have jumped from animal populations, in which they may be benign, to human populations, in which they might cause serious illness. Most of these outbreaks have occurred in a belt near the equator, where human beings intermingle more closely with animals, such as bats and monkeys. The main impact of civil wars is, however, not in increasing the number of new diseases, but rather diminishing the capacities of health monitoring systems that could identify, isolate, and possibly treat new diseases. Effective detection requires constant monitoring, which is extremely difficult in areas that are afflicted by civil war. Epidemics, or at least disease outbreaks, are inevitable given the ways in which human beings impinge more and more on animal habitats, but allowing an epidemic to evolve into a pandemic is optional. If effective detection and monitoring are in place, a disease outbreak will not turn into a pandemic that could kill millions. So far, the world's population has been spared such an outbreak. If, however, a disease can be transmitted through the air, and if civil strife or something else prevents effective monitoring, the likelihood of a pandemic increases.Transnational terrorism. Terrorism, which in recent years has primarily, but not exclusively, been associated with Islamic jihadism, can arise in many different environments. At the time of the September 11 attacks, Al Qaeda and its leader Osama bin Laden were resident in Afghanistan, a very poor, land-locked country. Before that, Bin Laden had found refuge in Sudan. Most of the participants in the September 11 attack, however, were born in the heart of the Arab world, namely in Saudi Arabia, and had resided for a number of years in Germany. The perpetrators of the July 7 attacks on the mass transit system in London were Muslims of Somali and Eritrean origin, raised and schooled in the United Kingdom. The bomber, whose efforts to bring down an airliner headed for Detroit were frustrated by a courageous and alert passenger, was a Nigerian citizen who had spent time with jihadi ideologues in the Middle East. The attacks in Paris and Nice in 2015–2016 were carried out by individuals born in North Africa, but who had lived for many years in Western Europe. The murders of fourteen people in San Bernardino, California, were perpetrated by a U.S. citizen born in Chicago, whose parents were from Pakistan and who was educated at California State University, San Bernardino, and his wife, who was born in Pakistan but spent many years in Saudi Arabia. The massacre at the Orlando, Florida, night club in 2016 was carried out by the American-born son of a man who had emigrated from Afghanistan and had lived for many years in the United States.While terrorism associated with Islamic jihadism is hardly an exclusive product of safe havens in countries afflicted by civil strife or poor governance, the existence of such safe havens does, as Martha Crenshaw argues, exacerbate the problem.3 Safe havens are environments within which would-be terrorists can train over an extended period of time. A number of terrorists, even those raised in Western, industrialized countries, have taken advantage of such training. Transnational terrorist organizations might or might not secure weapons of mass destruction; they might or might not develop more effective training; their operatives might or might not be discovered by intelligence services in advanced industrialized democracies. Civil war and weak governance, however, increase the likelihood that transnational terrorist groups will find safe havens, and safe havens increase the likelihood of attacks that could kill large numbers of people.Global pandemics and transnational terrorism are the two most serious threats presented by civil wars. The probability that either will significantly undermine the security of materially well-off states is uncertain, but both are distinct sources of danger. Civil wars and weak governance increase the likelihood that large numbers of people could be killed by either threat. Neither is an existential threat, but both could have grave consequences for advanced industrialized democratic states. Hundreds of thousands or millions of people could die from a pandemic outbreak resulting from an easily transmissible disease vector or from a transnational terrorist attack that could involve dirty nuclear weapons, an actual nuclear weapon (still quite hard to obtain), or artificial biologics (increasingly easy to produce).Either a global pandemic or terrorist attack, possibly using weapons of mass destruction, would almost certainly lead to some constraints on the traditional freedoms that have been associated with liberal democratic societies.Migration, regional instability, and great-power conflict. Civil wars are also dangerous because they could lead to greater refugee flows, regional destabilization, and great-power conflict. Not every civil war has the potential for generating these global crises, but if generated, they would be a product not just of civil strife but also of policy choices that were made by advanced industrialized countries. In this regard, they should be contrasted with possible pandemics and transnational terrorism that, arguably, would occur regardless of the policies adopted by wealthy democratic states.As Sarah Lischer's essay shows, the number of migrants–especially people displaced by civil wars–has increased dramatically in recent years.4 Most of these migrants have been generated by three conflicts, those in Afghanistan, Syria, and Somalia. The wave of migrants entering Western Europe has destabilized traditional politics and contributed to the success of Brexit in the UK, the increased share of votes secured by right-wing parties in a number of Western European countries, and the electoral gains of a number of right-wing parties in Eastern Europe. Anxiety about immigration contributed to Donald Trump's victory in the United States. European countries, even those on the left like Sweden, have responded to rising numbers of refugees by tightening the rules for potential migrants. The European Union reached a deal with Turkey in 2016 to provide financial resources in exchange–among other things–for an increase in acceptance of refugees. At the same time, the sheer number of refugees in Jordan and Lebanon can potentially undermine government control in those countries.The impact of civil wars in one country can spread to surrounding areas. ISIL's ambitious campaigns have afflicted Syria and Iraq. Civil strife in Somalia has, as Seyoum Mesfin and Abdeta Beyene write, influenced the policies of Ethiopia.5 The FARC insurgency in Colombia impacted Venezuela and Ecuador. Conflict in the Democratic Republic of the Congo (DRC) drew in several neighboring states. Some regional conflicts have resulted in millions of deaths, most notably the war in the DRC, with limited impact on and attention from wealthy industrialized countries. Wars in the Middle East, however, have been more consequential because they have led to the involvement of Russia and the United States, they are closer to Europe and have therefore generated more refugees, and Middle Eastern oil is a global commodity on which much of the world depends. Regional destabilization in the Middle East does matter for the West; regional destabilization in Central Africa may only matter for those who live in the neighborhood.Direct confrontation between major powers has not occurred since the end of World War II. In well-governed areas, where civil wars are absent, the likelihood of great-power conflict is small. Territorial conquest has been delegitimized (though Russia's annexation of Crimea stands as a recent exception to this norm). The existence of nuclear weapons has removed uncertainty about the costs of a confrontation between nuclear-armed states with assured second-strike capability. Great-power confrontations are, however, more likely in areas that are afflicted by civil strife, because instability and appeals from local actors could draw in major state actors with vested interests. This is especially true for the Middle East. Moreover, in countries on the periphery of Russia that were formerly part of the Soviet Union, especially those with sizeable Russian ethnic populations, the government in Moscow has demonstrated that it can increase the level of internal unrest. There is no guarantee of stability, even in countries that might have been stable absent external support for dissident groups that would otherwise have remained quiescent.As Barry Posen suggests in his essay, multipolarity makes all aspects of external involvement in civil wars more fraught, including the possibility of a conflict among the major powers.6 In a multipolar world, no single pole is likely to be able to dictate outcomes to potential combatants. The possibility of a hurting stalemate declines because all sides hope that their fortunes could be resurrected by some outside power. Absent a hurting stalemate, which makes the standard treatment including UN Peacekeeping Operations (UN PKOs) and other forms of assistance attractive to major combatants, civil wars are more likely to continue. The contemporary international environment is more multipolar than was the case during the bipolarity of the Cold War or the unipolarity of the United States that lasted for a little over a decade after the Soviet Union collapsed. Managing civil wars will now be more difficult. The possibility of great-power conflict has increased. And because wars will prove harder to end, refugee flows will persist.Criminality. Criminality is a final area in which there may be some association between civil wars and weak governance, and the well-being of individuals in advanced industrialized countries. Because of the ease of transportation and communication, criminality is not limited to specific countries. Internet theft can originate from and impact many different countries. The loss of billions of dollars a year, drug smuggling, and human trafficking are familiar manifestations of transnational criminality. As Vanda Felbab-Brown writes, large-scale criminality can greatly exacerbate the challenges states face in defeating insurgencies and ending civil wars.7Addressing criminality associated with civil wars is fraught with difficulty. The association between criminal gangs and the state may be uncertain. National elites may protect criminal organizations. Some criminal organizations may generate revenues that help national elites stay in power. Yet while transnational criminality does affect individuals and institutions in the wealthier democracies, it is not a threat to their domestic political orders. The problem is best dealt with through national and international law enforcement.The most important conclusion that emerges from the discussions at the core of our project is that the policy options for addressing civil wars are limited. The essays in these two issues suggest that there are four factors that external actors must take into account when considering responses to intrastate warfare in weakly governed polities: the extent to which the interests of external and national political elites are complementary; the presence of irreconcilable groups in a civil conflict; the threat of great-power conflict; and the costs of intervention.Alignment of interests. Of these four factors, the greatest impediment to successful interventions is the misalignment of domestic and external elites' interests. Domestic elites governing an area afflicted by civil strife will be primarily interested in keeping themselves in power. The path to Denmark is paved with free and fair elections, rational-legal bureaucracies, and the rule of law, all of which are antithetical to the interests of those who hold power in closed-access or exclusive polities.The best that external actors can hope for is to bring some degree of security to areas that are afflicted with civil strife, which is easier to accomplish if none of the combatants are motivated by ideologies that cannot be reconciled, and if competing major or regional powers are not in proxy wars. even if irreconcilable and states are not part of a civil ambitious for and will fail because domestic elites are primarily interested in staying in not in and security assistance has been effective in a limited number of state institutions and the of civil but then only and only to some assistance might of but these are likely to or away when foreign assistance is the support of domestic external actors will fail to civil wars or effectively deal with from such of the world's especially polities by intrastate are rent-seeking states in which the political in power through foreign assistance and will not lead to into the night the number of votes the number of that political to stay in power. The in which the government is to but to within a is not the of almost all of human in almost all in the world, were and If individuals could the of the state they some external actors might be able to the incentives of national elites in the which this might are elites in countries by civil war are almost in what and political have an exclusive Their primary is to stay in power. This requires the and of of their support Most they must have command over of those who control the of violence that they cannot be in exclusive or rent-seeking orders are on the loss of and even life that would from a loss of will efforts for hold free and fair or to corruption as existential more like which are often sources for elites in exclusive might be as actors are only likely to have if domestic elites are on foreign as essay is often the and if external actors can threaten to which is often not the If domestic have sources of such as from or if the state is will not be able to threaten to assistance as government and have constraints were in Afghanistan, where the United States, billions of dollars in elections, and was to the of the rather than efforts to the fundamental of because such his The were because could not (though corruption on all to the of some from the of were by because the his and his in his essay, a for the that occur when the interests of external and internal actors are which will be the case when external actors to in rent-seeking on security that an effective national security at least effective in the of external is much harder than has been or As interests of domestic elites are often different from the interests of external The on power and domestic threats to their while the more on international or transnational threats that could their is, as a problem that cannot be the United States is most likely to provide security assistance to states that are governed if these polities were they would not external security In rent-seeking political will not the military as an the armed will be as as a potential that must be through some of and military in that to the of the A military of effectively in the is what in rent-seeking states do not As it would be almost for an external to such as with military or or which would be in the interests of national but not in the interests of external actors to an effective national military this the collapse of the in in one decade of U.S. military and billions of dollars of was hardly The United States that to effectively its ideological an that would not threaten and their on wars do not the that countries to stable polities and significantly the economic of large of the As with to the Middle East, the rent-seeking that were the conflict are likely to be during of civil is a that elites to those with they to stay in the of the external powers is the problem of to when the challenges of monitoring the of security assistance actors are not likely to be able to or even the interests and of actors in countries by civil may be may be power and their live in and for a while foreign and often for one at if the of the United States or other external is to help countries that have been afflicted with civil war consolidated democracy and there will be between the of domestic and foreign presence of and powers. If one or more of the major are or if two or more major powers have and interests conflict policy options to treat civil wars will be terrorism has been motivated primarily by ideological movements that reject the extant rules and of the global order. As the essays by and motivated have a that is antithetical to the almost of in the contemporary international the sovereign state The principles and associated with and international are to those that have been and by Islamic jihadi Islamic as points out, other authority is from not from some Islamic there is a fundamental distinction between the world of by Muslims and by Islamic law, and the of or where Islamic law is not to some of Islamic law, Islamic states can only with other Islamic with the world, are limited to the most contemporary of Islamic jihadi has that its is to a in the Middle East. a would state and the and rules of an secular who to a sovereign state the same to external powers that a on the of the contemporary international system and the of existing state cannot be with foreign assistance and they will not accept such the most policy option for those to the of the might be to war a As the armed were able to the while to the international order, from the of the may however, be to may have to be as the of Afghanistan and when with a a or parties are a more attractive as the misalignment of domestic and external interests has policy do the misalignment of major interests. The presence of major powers in a civil as can potentially threaten the security of as well as the international the

In the United States, the history of sexual assault in the first half of the 20th century involves multiple contradictions between the ordinary, almost invisible accounts of women of all colors who were raped by fathers, husbands, neighbors, boarders, bosses, hired hands, and other known individuals versus the sensational myths that involved rapacious black men, sly white slavers, libertine elites, and virginal white female victims. Much of the debate about sexual assault revolved around the “unwritten law” that justified “honorable” white men avenging the “defilement” of their women. Both North and South, white people defended lynching and the murder of presumed rapists as “honor killings.” In courtrooms, defense attorneys linked the unwritten law to insanity pleas, arguing that after hearing women tell about their assault, husbands and fathers experienced an irresistible compulsion to avenge the rape of their women. Over time, however, notorious court cases from New York to San Francisco, Indianapolis and Honolulu, to Scottsboro, Alabama, shifted the discourse away from the unwritten law and extralegal “justice” to a more complicated script that demonized unreliable women and absolved imperfect men. National coverage of these cases, made possible by wire services and the Hearst newspaper empire, spurred heated debates concerning the proper roles of men and women. Blockbuster movies like The Birth of a Nation and Gone with the Wind and Book of the Month Club selections such as John Steinbeck’s Of Mice and Men and Richard Wright’s Native Son joined the sensationalized media coverage of high-profile court cases to create new national stereotypes about sexual violence and its causes and culprits. During the 1930s, journalists, novelists, playwrights, and moviemakers increasingly emphasized the culpability of women who, according to this narrative, made themselves vulnerable to assault by stepping outside of their appropriate sphere and tempting men into harming them.

Hitler's Army: Soldiers, Nazis, and War in the Third Reich.Germany and the Union of South Africa in the Nazi Period.The Unwritten Law: Criminal Justice in Victorian Kent.The Impossible Peace: Britain, the Division of GermanyMechanized Juggernaut or Military AnachronismTheatre of Horror: Crime and Punishment in Early Modern GermanySir Philip Sidney: Courtier Poet. By Katherine Duncan‐JonesTownlife in Fourteenth‐Century Scotland. By Elizabeth EwanPrincipled Pragmatist: The Political Career of Alexandre MillerandCaligula: Emperor of Rome. By Arther Ferrill.Assimilation and Community: The Jews in Nineteenth‐Century Europe.Risk and Survival in Ancient Greece: Reconstructing the Rural Domestic Economy.Playing the Scottish Card: The Franco‐Jacobite Invasion of 1708.Ecstasies: Deciphering the Witches' Sabbath. By Carlo Ginzberg.The Kremlin and the Schoolhouse: Reforming Education in Soviet RussiaThe French Navy in Indochina: Riverine and Coastal ForcesJuly 1914: The Long Debate, 1918‐1990. By John W. Langdon.An Interrupted Past: German‐Speaking Refugee Historians in the United States after 1933.The Making of an Industrial Society: Whickham, 1560–1560.Women and Social Action in Victorian and Edwardian England.A Nazi Legacy: Right Wing Extremism in Postwar Germany.The Making of the English Nation: From Anglo‐Saxons to Edward I.Protestants First: Orangeism in Nineteenth‐Century Scotland.The Margins of City Life: Explorations on the French Urban FrontierThe People's Peace: British History, 1945–1945.The Scottish National Covenant in its British Context, 1638–1638.Bismarck and the Development of Germany. 3 vols.Roman Culture and Society: Collected Papers.The Vikings. By Eke Roesdahl. Translated by Susan M. Margeson and Kirsten Williams.The Vichy Syndrome: History and Memory in France since 1944. By Henry Rousso. TranslatedReluctant Icon: Gladstone, Bulgaria, and the Working Classes, 1856‐1878. By Ann Pottinger Saab.Being Present: Growing Up in Hitler's Germany.Politics and the Sciences of Culture in Germany, 1840–1840.The Broken Spell: A Cultural and Anthropological History of Preindustrial Europe.Interpreting History: Collective Essays on Russia's Relations with Europe.The Cambridge Social History of Britain, 1750–1750.Paris and Its People under English Rule: The Angb‐Burgundian Regime.Women Religious: The Founding of English Nunneries after the Norman Conquest.The British General Election of 1931.Mountains of Debt: Crisis and Change in Renaissance Florence, Victorian Britain and Postwar America.Exile in Mid‐Qing China: Banishment to Xinjiang, 1758–1758.Austria‐Hungary and the Origins of the First World War.France, the Cold War and the Western Alliance, 1944:British Officials and British Foreign Policy, 1945–1945.Chain Reaction: Expert Debate and Public Participation in American Commercial Nuclear Power, 1945–1945.Pride, Prejudice, and Politics: Roosevelt versus Recovery, 1933–1933.Pawnee Passage: 1870–1870.The Laser in America, 1950–1950.Politics, Religion, and Rockets: Essays in Twentieth‐Century American HistoryA Family Venture: Men and Women on the Southern Frontier.Seasons of Grace: Colonial New England's Revival Tradition in Its British Context.The Development of Medical Techniques and Treatments: From Leeches to Heart Surgery.Richard B. Russell, Jr., Senator from Georgia.The Presidency of Franklin Pierce.Adam Clayton Powell, Jr.: The Political Biography of an American Dilemma.The Rockefeller Conscience: An American Family in Public and in Private.A History of Industrial Power in the United States, 1780–1780.John Nelson: Merchant Adventurer.Literacy in the United States: Readers and Reading since 1880.The Juggler: Franklin Roosevelt as Wartime Statesman.William Dorsey's Philadelphia and Ours:Central America and the United States: The Search for Stability.The Dispossession of the American Indian, 1887–1887.Edison and the Business of Innovation.Indiana Quakers during the Civil War.Promises to Keep: African‐Americans and the Constitutional Order, 1776 to the Present.Writing Women's History: International Perspectives.A Question of Character: A Life of John F. Kennedy.Hell's Half Acre: The Life and Legend of a Red‐Light District.Agenda for Reform: Winthrop Rockefeller as Governor of Arkansas, 1967–1967.Toward a Social History of the American Civil War: Exploratory Essays.Moments of Unreason: The Practice of Canadian Psychiatry and the Homewood Retreat, 1883–1883.Washing “The Great Unwashed”: Public Baths in Urban America, 1840–1840.The Old World's New World.

Frenzied and Fallen Females: Women and Sexual Dishonor in the Nineteenth-Century United States Robert M. Ireland Nineteenth-century American legalists invented an unwritten law that forgave men and women who kUled to avenge sexual dishonor. In part because of the male domination of the legal system, female defendants found it more difficult than males to gain acquittals under this law, and the reputation of women suffered. The law tolerated a double standard of sexuahty and reinforced the negative stereotype of the nineteenth-century woman. Nonetheless, women, espedaUy feminists, generaUy supported the use of the law by females. Observers, particularly women, justified the unwritten law as an appropriate response to an epidemic of male fibertinism which they aUeged was preying on thousands of innocent, often unmarried women, and leaving them seduced, abandoned, disgraced, and sometimes pregnant. Because of the percdved epidemic and outrage over its specific inddents that sometimes resulted in appUcation of the unwritten law, lawmakers in the late nindeenth century began reforming the written law in an attempt to curtaü Ubertinism. IronicaUy, as these efforts of legal reform evolved, soddal assumptions that excused the female appUcation of the unwritten law began to erode and with them the unwritten law and its utilization. Nindeenth-century American women, espedaUy those who were young and unmarried, carried a great sexual burden. On the one hand they were supposed to be models of chastity, whüe on the other they were preyed upon by increasing numbers of men eager for pre-marital or extra-marital sexual relations. The need for them to marry to survive economicaUy and sodaUy and the reaUties of their sexual drives (as opposed to their theoreticaUy restrained sexuaUty), coupled with the presence of an abundance of male sexual adventurers, meant that certain of them would become involved in pre-marital sexual Uaisons that would result in pregnancy, abandonment, and sodetal ostradsm. Until sometime in the first quarter of the nineteenth century, women were regarded by those who thought, wrote, and spoke about such matters as sexuaUy passionate, even more so than men. The so-caUed "Curse of Eve" theory was still popular, holding that just as Eve had brought original sin into the world by seducing Adam, women initiated illicit sexual encounters more frequently than men and spread vice and Ucentiousness throughout sodety. For a variety of reasons, including the theories of social © 1992 Journal of Women-s History, Vol. 3 No. 3 (Winter) 96 Journal of Women's History Winter critics of Anglo-American sodety, repubUcan apologists, and Protestant theologians, American sodal theorists transformed nindeenth-century women into sexuaUy restrained guardians of repubUcan moraUty and virtue. Whüe this change improved the theoretical image of American women, it also created new responsibUities for them. They, more than ever, needed to establish and maintain successful marriages which would preserve the famüy; the famüy more than ever was regarded as the foundation of American sodety. Above aU, women needed to avoid pre-marital sexual encounters, which if they became pubUc knowledge, would likely result in permanent sodal disgrace. The nineteenth-century or Victorian code demanded sexual purity on the part of women.1 Although nindeenth-century social theorists regarded working-class women as more sexuaUy passionate than middle-dass women, they nonetheless held them tö the same standards of condud. It was often difficult for working-class women to abide by the rules of proper courtship and sexuaUty, and a number of them faüed to do so. Observers blamed this faUure on an epidemic of male Ubertinism that they said was sweeping the nation's dties, an accusation that persisted throughout much of the nineteenth century. Although those observers may have exaggerated and simplified the reasons why growing numbers of working-dass women "feU" from sodal respedabUity, the problem that prompted their anguish to some degree did exist and for a variety of reasons. More and more young men and women moved from farms to dties to take advantage of greater economic and social opportunities. In order to obtain a measure of economic security, the men postponed marriage but not sexual intercourse. The young women, often separated from their famUies or, at the least, unchaperoned, experienced...

£24.50 and $40.00, £12.75 and $20.00 softback Paul Robert Magocsi Ukraine: A Historical Atlas 1986 University of Toronto Press Toronto 62

Juanita Brooks's Footnote: History, Memory, and the Murder of Olivia Coombs

Civil War Settlers: Scandinavians, Citizenship, and American Empire, 1848–1870

Freedom is not free: Examining health equity for racial and ethnic minoritized veterans.

Reviewed by: Uncommonly Savage: Civil War and Remembrance in Spain and the United States by Paul D. Escott Wayne H. Bowen Uncommonly Savage: Civil War and Remembrance in Spain and the United States. Paul D. Escott. Gainesville: University Press of Florida, 2014. ISBN 978-0-8130-4941-0, 256 pp., hardback, $74.95. The task Paul Escott has undertaken at first seems problematic: to craft a comparative history of civil war memory in two nations, with conflicts that did not share century, political ideology, continent, or language. The American Civil War, 1861–65, and the Spanish Civil War, 1936–39, however, prove sufficiently malleable to the author’s approach to make this book an engaging success on the theme of war and memory. After a brief introduction and a background chapter, the book is divided into four thematic chapters, examining the major subjects of “Ideology and Memory,” “The Past and Political Evolution,” “Reconciliation,” and “Economic Change and the Transformation of Cultural Landscapes.” Escott skillfully draws parallels between the conservative forces in both countries—southern pro-slavery elites, and Catholic, military, and other right-wing leaders in Spain—that resisted what they saw as dangerous innovations from central governments. In the case of the United States, southerners feared economic modernization, leading to northern financial dominance, but even [End Page 469] more the movement for abolitionism. In Spain, the –isms—secularism, socialism, communism, anarchism, and anti-clericalism—provoked the uprising that would become the Spanish Civil War in 1936. While there are some analogies between right-wing Spain and what would become the Confederacy, the respective aftermaths of these two civil wars were starkly different. In Spain, a civil war won by the Nationalists became the regime of Gen. Francisco Franco, in which former Republicans faced decades of persecution, restrictions on their opportunities, or even imprisonment. In the American South, after a brief period of Union occupation and Reconstruction, the same white men who had led the rebellion against the North resumed their political influence. Just over a decade after the final Union victories, segregation, intimidation, and economic repression had recreated the race-based social order of the pre–Civil War period. There were more similarities in the nurturing of respective memories after both conflicts, with the losers in each creating a more coherent and enduring vision of civil war. Spanish Republicans in exile spent decades crafting explanations for their defeat, influencing historians in other nations to take up the Republican cause. Even as the late Franco era of the 1960s and 1970s deemphasized the glorious Nationalist movement that had won the Civil War, on the Left the memory of these events remained vibrant, even if during the transition to democracy in the decade after Franco there was a conscious effort to put aside the war in the interest of civic peace. While less consistently, southern historians and popular writers created nostalgic accounts of the lost antebellum era, before the destruction wrought by vengeful industrial armies of the Yankees. Indeed, instead of a collective vision of these two conflicts, the regional and ideological divisions that had seen the actual civil wars were perpetuated by the generations that followed. Only in recent decades has anything close to a national consensus emerged in both Spain and the United States to explain these wars. Rather than the victory of a vision by winning or losing sides, in both countries a more balanced account is now replacing the rivalry of partisan memories. Complexity now seems more widespread than one-sided assigning of blame. While there continue to be political arguments over physical monuments—Confederate statues in the American South and Spanish streets named for Francoist leaders—these are no longer violent, nor of more than symbolic impact. Each civil war, especially those of the remarkable violence seen in both the American and Spanish conflicts, features its own peculiarities amid what are, after all, national circumstances and origins. At times, the author draws parallels that are too close, obscuring their historical uniqueness. For example, the gulf between Spanish landowners of the twentieth century and southern plantation owners of the nineteenth was quite significant, but both groups are described similarly, as rural elites. However, Escott has shown that...

Reviewed by: Civil War Memories: Contesting the Past in the United States since 1865 by Robert J. Cook Jennifer M. Murray Civil War Memories: Contesting the Past in the United States since 1865. By Robert J. Cook. (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 2017. Pp. xii, 273. $24.95, ISBN 978-1-4214-2349-4.) The current discourse about the place of Civil War symbols on the landscape of the United States has once again opened the vibrant, cacophonous chords of [End Page 1015] Civil War memory. Civil War scholars have explored these "'mystic chords of memory'" and America's contested narratives of the nation's most divisive event (p. 13). David W. Blight's Race and Reunion: The Civil War in American Memory (Cambridge, Mass., 2001) has defined much of the historiographical conversation. Blight argues that Union and Confederate veterans willingly forgot the war's contested elements in order to promote sectional reconciliation. Recent scholars, including Caroline E. Janney and M. Keith Harris, have disputed Blight's thesis, suggesting a more contested process of reconciliation. Robert J. Cook's Civil War Memories: Contesting the Past in the United States since 1865 offers the most recent attempt to explore Americans' memories of the nation's defining conflict. Whereas most scholars of Civil War memory focus on the war's veterans, Cook also considers Civil War memory in the twenty-first century, thereby showing the continued relevance of the Civil War in modern politics and culture. The first section of the book covers familiar terrain. Cook challenges Blight's reconciliation thesis, arguing that Union and Confederate veterans did not forget the war's divisive aspects. Instead, he maintains, the veterans "played an active role in the reconciliation process, but not through any desire to forget on their part" (p. 97). Veterans advanced reconciliation through a deliberate recognition that their foes fought courageously for their respective causes. The process of forgetting came from subsequent generations who expressed no interest in widening the sectional chasm. Cook credits Gilded Age writers and publishers for having a hand in shaping Civil War memory. Through important publications in Century, Battles and Leaders of the Civil War, and Annals of the War, readers were regaled with often-glorified tales of the war's soldiers and battles. The second half of the book, "The Modern Era," advances the conversation about memories of the Civil War into the twenty-first century. Moving beyond the traditional focus on the war's veterans, Cook explores how Americans have engaged with the war and molded it to suit contemporary political and social agendas. For example, World War II offered an opportunity for the federal government to use Abraham Lincoln and the rhetoric of the Gettysburg Address to foster patriotism. The Civil War centennial, in the midst of the civil rights movement, deepened sectional and racial discourse. Black activists had little interest in commemorating the Civil War. Indeed, Malcolm X discredited popular portrayals of Lincoln as the great emancipator. In the years after the Civil War centennial, the war received less attention, from both academics and popular audiences. Cook attributes this neglect to the "'post-heroic era'" when Americans "seemed to lose not only their faith in towering figures like Abraham Lincoln but also their psychological need for them" (p. 184). Americans in the twenty-first century continue to grapple with the Civil War's legacy. Barack Obama reenergized Lincoln's popularity through rhetorical appeal and by launching his presidential campaign on the steps of the Old State House in Springfield, Illinois, where Lincoln had kicked off his senatorial race in 1858. The National Park Service's Civil War sesquicentennial theme of "Civil War to Civil Rights" offered an opportunity to explore racial accomplishments and the war's social and cultural legacies. Yet the overall public response to the war's 150th anniversary was anemic. [End Page 1016] Civil War Memories offers a comprehensive treatment of the memory of the nation's most enduring and contested event. In offering a study of Civil War memory since 1865, Cook underscores that memories of the war have never been monolithic. They have always been debated, politicized, and maligned. His attention to the war's differing memories...

It has, admittedly, been a long time since I have read Herbert Gutman's Work, Culture, and Society in Industrializing America. The essays in this volume were foundational to my PhD training at the University of Wisconsin–Madison, an alma mater I share with Gutman, and I remember them as core texts in the labor history seminar that I took there as a second-year graduate student. As time went on, though, my research interests during my dissertation work and as an early career professor seemingly took me far afield from Gutman's emphasis on working-class formation and culture. I primarily identified as a historian of the US West and of the US Civil War and Reconstruction. My research, which dealt with unfree and quasi-free labor systems in California from the 1850s to the 1870s, did focus on work and workers. But as with many other Civil War and Reconstruction historians, my preoccupation has almost always been with the state. I want to know how labor and immigration exclusion policies shaped the lives of workers; how workers engaged with the state by contesting these laws and policies; how the state acted violently against workers; and how the outcomes of these struggles changed the overarching political history of the United States during Reconstruction.Given my research commitments, my first impression on rereading Work, Culture, and Society in Industrializing America was dissatisfaction at the weak emphasis on the state. There was precious little about the law, politics, and judicial proceedings that were at the heart of my own interpretations of labor history and inherently central to the Civil War and Reconstruction.In fact, one of Gutman's most provocative claims in the title essay of this volume is that the Civil War and Reconstruction may not have mattered all that much in the broader scheme of labor history. Gutman purposely disrupted the familiar periodization of national history that pivoted around the Civil War and Reconstruction as major turning points. Instead, he treated the period from 1843 to 1893 as a single unbroken era characterized by continuity, “common patterns of behavior,” rather than change.1 The “profound tension” between “American preindustrial social structure and the modernizing institutions that accompanied the development of industrial capitalism” remained the constant theme of American life, relatively uninterrupted by the Civil War and its aftermath.2After quieting my initial kneejerk protest—how could Gutman possibly discount the impact of emancipation and the Reconstruction amendments on labor history?—I gave serious thought to his argument about continuity across the pre–and post–Civil War periods. I concluded, to my surprise, that Gutman was ahead of his time in questioning whether the Civil War and Reconstruction were actually moments of tremendous rupture in national history.For decades, historians had emphasized that the United States victory over the Confederacy during the Civil War resulted in the consolidation of the power of the liberal US nation-state. The federal government emerged from the Civil War a powerful, muscular entity capable of crushing challenges to its authority across the nation. It quelled the slaveholder rebellion and installed free labor in the South, subdued and incorporated the Native peoples of the West, and crushed worker dissent in the North and Midwest.In the past ten years, however, Civil War and Reconstruction historians have begun to dismantle this image of the postwar American state. Their focus has instead been on the continuities between the pre–and post–Civil War United States: the uneven and ineffectual power of the federal government, the persistence of unfreedom after the end of slavery, and the hierarchy and violence that still structured social relations in a republic (allegedly) dedicated to liberal individualism and equality before the law. The picture of post–Civil War America that emerges from this new scholarship is much more chaotic and ambiguous, and more eerily similar to the antebellum era, than we have often imagined.3Gutman's delineation of workers’ struggles and working-class formation between 1843 and 1893 anticipated this new interpretation of the Civil War and Reconstruction eras. More importantly, his arguments suggest that a renewed focus on labor history—which many Civil War and Reconstruction historians abandoned after the 1980s—can help us trace the threads of continuity that bound together the antebellum and postbellum eras.First, Gutman's focus on workers’ persistent resistance to the ethos of liberal capitalism, which he highlights in both “Work, Culture, and Industrializing Society” and “Protestantism and the American Labor Movement,” undermines any notion that the US victory in the Civil War was also a victory for the Republican Party's vision of liberal citizenship. Scholars often blame the failure of Republican policy on recalcitrant former slaveholders in the South who refused to adopt free wage labor or acknowledge Black Americans’ equality before the law. Gutman reveals, however, that the nation's working people were themselves often rightly skeptical of a Republican liberalism that emphasized individual acquisitiveness over communal good, as well as Republicans’ vision of citizenship rooted firmly in the defense of private property over the right to economic justice. Workers’ resistance clearly shows that a liberal consensus did not triumph after the Civil War. Instead, the post–Civil War era saw the continuation of a battle over the legitimacy of liberal capitalism's cornerstone concepts that started long before the war and lasted long afterward.Second, and relatedly, the essays in the volume speak to Civil War and Reconstruction historians’ current emphasis on the inefficacy and unevenness of state power in the postwar era. Gutman's two lesser-known early articles at the end of Work, Culture, and Society in Industrializing America—“Trouble on the Railroads in 1873–1874” (1961) and “Two Lockouts in Pennsylvania, 1873–1874” (1959)—are especially worth revisiting because they show how the strength of workers’ community ties derailed (sometimes literally) industrialists’ efforts to harness the power of the state.4 Gutman's intensely local community studies reveal that the image of a muscular postwar state intervening on the behalf of capital to squash workers’ protests does not always resemble reality. In the smaller railroad towns of the Midwest and the coal towns of Pennsylvania during the early years of the Long Depression, the relationships that working-class people forged with middling shopkeepers, white-collar professionals, and small manufacturers often diluted the coercive power of the state. Middle-class leaders in local and municipal governments, who were often bound to their working-class neighbors through long-standing ties of friendship, common working-class origins, and a shared hatred of corporate autocracy, might side with protesting workers against large industrial operators or refuse to deploy state power against them. Together, working- and middle-class residents could frustrate capitalists who wanted to bring down the heavy hand of the postwar state on workers in the name of defending private property. Gutman's community studies remind scholars always to be attentive to the contested and highly contingent nature of state power over and in workers’ lives in the postwar era.Finally, Gutman's emphasis on the incomplete imposition of capitalist labor discipline on working people across the entire nineteenth century can transform our understanding of emancipation. Civil War and Reconstruction historians, including myself, frequently portray the abolition of slavery as a massive social, economic, and cultural transformation. The federal state tried to remake the lives of formerly enslaved people (and the lives of enslavers) by installing free wage labor, along with all of its coercive features—contracts, at-will employment, and time discipline—in the South. This interpretation of the postwar period rests on the assumption that free wage labor and all its disciplinary trappings were already fully developed in the North and that enslaved people had to be acclimated to ways of life that northern wageworkers had already been living under for at least one generation. Gutman's insight that capitalist labor discipline was still very much contested and in flux across all of the nineteenth century forces scholars to reevaluate both the significance of emancipation and the experience of the formerly enslaved. In particular, former slaves’ postemancipation labor struggles seem less disconnected, and less radically divergent, from those of northern wageworkers when we discover that both groups were actively shaping an incomplete, fluid, and contested capitalist vision of labor discipline still very much in the making. In this context, then, emancipation could be read as a continuation of pre–Civil War struggles over worker autonomy rather than as a complete break with antebellum labor history.On the whole, my rereading of Gutman's Work, Culture, and Society in Industrializing America in my academic middle age convinced me that I needed to revisit classic works in labor history more often. My work does not fundamentally focus on working-class formation, identity, or culture. Still, Gutman's distinctive periodization of the nineteenth century presents a different way of looking at the questions that concern me the most, including the meaning of freedom in the age of emancipation, the character of the post–Civil War state, and the policies and practices of labor coercion. Returning to labor history generally, and to Gutman specifically, may well be one of the most fruitful paths for revising our understanding of the world that the Civil War made.

As the essays in this special issue amply demonstrate, realism and Reconstruction are inextricable. In the U.S., realism was born in the crucible of the Long Civil War, 1 emerging as a vital mode for apprehending and describing a "reality" shorn of Idealisms and Transcendentalisms. That is one of the many reasons the Civil War and Reconstruction repeatedly appear in realist art and literature, from novels such as Stephen Crane's The Red Badge of Courage, Henry James' The American, and W. D. Howells' The Rise of Silas Lapham (all of which are about soldiers or former soldiers), 2 to the poems of Sarah Piatt and Frances E. W. Harper and the paintings of Winslow Homer. Many of the writers primarily known for their commentary about Reconstruction, like Albion Tourgée and George Washington Cable, developed a realist style and philosophy which they saw as a natural expression of Reconstruction's aims and effects. 3 And such connections merely hint at the range and variety of mutual influences that linked realism to Reconstruction, both of which were rooted in a similar system of print networks, historical conditions, and cultural values. Recent scholarship, however, has made it abundantly clear that realism and Reconstruction were complex, protean movements. Realism arose in Europe in the early-nineteenth century, acquired a variety of proto-forms in the antebellum U.S., and spawned an eclectic range of literary, philosophical, and artistic forms, from Pragmatism (a metaphysical realism) to Naturalism (an offshoot of realist fiction), and appeared in a kaleidoscopic array of media, from paintings to magazines, photographs, sculptures, poems, and short stories. This is one of the guiding threads of criticism on realism,

Book Reviews101 Finally, there is hardly an aspect of the war which does not receive at least a passing nod. Lord Russell did not see how the United States "could be cobbled together again." A French poet is noted who excoriated the North because a former mistress had to flee her Southern home. Monsignor Doupanloup, Bishop of Orléans, spoke out to his clergy against slavery. Richard Cobden would "walk barefoot to the end of the earth" to end the war. Karl Marx, a correspondent for the Vienna Press during the war, assigns Lincoln a place beside Washington. After Lincoln's assassination, condolences poured into Washington. Especially touching is Queen Victoria's personally written note from one widow to another, and the poem by Henrik Ibsen. It is regrettable that an index was omitted. The greatest value of the compilation, in this reviewer's judgment, is the clear picture it leaves of the reason England in the main favored the Confederacy. In a word, it was jealousy of America's growing stature. EllaLonn St. Petersburg, Florida Canada and the United States: The Civil War Years. By Robin W. Winks. (Baltimore: The Johns Hopkins Press, 1960. Pp. xv, 430. $6.50.) Since World War II, historians have expressed an increasing interest in Canadian-American relations. The concept of a century of peace between the United States and Canada has had particular appeal to a society which has been forced to live in a perpetual cold war. Recently however, several works have demonstrated that the tradition of a century of peace is a myth, that during most of the nineteenth century, a cold war existed between Canada and the United States. Mr. Winks of Yale University does much to explode this myth by focusing on the relations between the United States and Canada during the Civil War years. One of his basic themes is that if real harmony had existed between British North America and the United States after 1815, there would not have been such widespread "hostility" between the two countries during the Civil War. The period of the war was one of unusual tension along the border and elsewhere, with many people on each side convinced that war was inevitable. Mr. Winks makes a major contribution to Civil War literature by stressing the importance of Canada in determining Britain's foreign policy during the war. In explaining Britain's failure to aid the Confederate states, historians have long harped on the British need for Northern wheat, Britain's concern over the Schleswig-Holstein dispute on the Continent, and the repugnance for slavery felt by the British working classes and the royal family. But Mr. Winks makes it unmistakably clear that Britain's fear of losing her Canadian provinces by force, with a resulting loss of prestige, was equally important in shaping Britain's neutral policy during the war. The author also presents much new information on the subject of Can- 102 CIVIL WAR HISTORY adían enlistments in the Northern armies, Canadian public opinion as related to the war, and the Confederacy's efforts to embroil the North in war with Britain through her Canadian provinces. Just as America's political and economic institutions owe much to the Civil War, the author demonstrates that the same is true for Canada. By pointing out the necessity for a more adequate system of defense, the Civil War promoted national unity and a period of constitution-making in Canada. With the temporary disruption of American trade, it also stimulated the economic development of Canada. This book is an example of history as it should be written. Mr. Winks writes in a lively style which illuminates all aspects of Canadian-American relations during the Civil War years. The volume reflects more research into newspapers, diaries, private letters, official correspondence, and public speeches than any other this reviewer has had the pleasure to read in quite a while. A unique aspect of the book is its versatility. Students of the Civil War, Canadian history, the British Empire, or Anglo-American relations should read it. The author should be encouraged to continue his work in both Canadian and American history, as historians can learn much about...

The Segregated Schooling of Blacks in the Southern United States and South Africa