Edward Masson: A Scot in the Greek Revolutionary Navy, 1827

The paper provides an analysis of the foreign volunteers’ intervention in France during the First World War. It discusses the activities of the US humanitarian relief, that from the Franco-Prussian War evolved into permanent structures such as the American Relief Clering House (ARCH) and the American Ambulance Field Service (AAFS) and also analyzes the phenomenon of American volunteers in the French army and in the organization of the Lafayette Escadrille. Particular note is given to the phenomenon of American ambulance volunteers in the Harjes Formation and Norton's Motor Ambulance Corps. It is also described the evolution of the humanitarian activities of the volunteers and the contribution of Anglo-American diplomats organization of relief efforts both in France and in Belgium. In particular, the paper describes the birth and development of the two major associations of US humanitarian relief, the American Field Service (AFS) in France and the Commission for Relief in Belgium (CRB) and the contribution to the latter organization by Herbert Hoover.

Relations between Turkey and Russia have taken significant turns for the better in the past several years, culminating in the visit of Prime Minister Recep Tayyip Erdogan to Moscow in December 2004, and followed by Russian President Vladimir Putin's reciprocal trip to Ankara in January 2005. This was the first time a Russian chief of state had paid an official visit to Turkey.1 The latter meeting was timed, perhaps not coincidentally, to occur just before the European Union summit meeting in Brussels, which included the perennial matter of membership on its agenda. Although those visits are significant in their own right, they are emblematic of a larger significant shift in each country's disposition to the other, and in some respects are symptomatic of shifting political orientations in their domestic and international politics. As Shireen T. Hunter asserts, Turkish and Russian officials increasingly refer to their respective countries as two great Eurasian powers, indicating that the and Russian versions of Eurasianism need not be competitive. Rather, they can be complementary.2 This article explores the contours of this changing landscape with an eye toward identifying and critically analyzing alternative interpretations of the reasons for the emergence of a more cooperative set of relations between Turkey and Russia. It also does so from the perspective of the implications for democracy in each of these countries and the region more generally.This remarkable turn toward greater cooperation between Russia and Turkey calls for commentary on several grounds, not least of which is the long history of suspicion, studied alienation, and overt military conflict between the two countries. As Lesser notes, [djespite the fact that Turkey no longer shares a border with Russia, Ankara still continues to view Russia with concern. A long tradition of Russo-Turkish competition contributes to unease, and reinforces more modern worries about Moscow as a geopolitical competitor and a source of regional risk.3 That unease, however, appears to be giving way to substantial change. Improved relations between these two significant powers will certainly shape the contours of domestic and foreign politics in Eurasia well beyond each country's current regime.4 This is already evident in terms of rapidly expanding trade (from an estimated $4 billion in 2002 to approximately $10 billion in 2004, and projections of $25 billion by 2007),5 something akin to a military detente (if not rapprochement), an increasing measure of regional cooperation in attempted conflict resolution, and perhaps most demonstrably, diplomatic exchange. The last is perhaps most significant in that it may set the stage for expanded cooperation in economic and military domains as well as open doors in other aspects of bilateral and multilateral regional cooperation.Historically, relations between the Ottoman and Russian empires were never particularly good or close, and were punctuated by armed conflict.6 Chronic conflict between the Ottoman Empire and a continually expanding Muscovy in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries was capped by Peter the Great's victory in capturing the fortress of Azov in 1696.In 1715, Peter renamed Muscovy the Russian Empire, but with that redesignation came no change in long-term relations with the Ottoman neighbor to the south. There were wars fought in 1710, 1736, 1768-74, 1787, 1806-12,1828-29, 1854-56, and 1877-78. During World I, Russian imperial forces occupied eastern portions of the crumbling Ottoman Empire. This, along with the postwar occupation of western Anatolia by Allied forces, led the founders of the modern Republic to dub the confusing mass of conflicts during and after World I as Turkey's War of Independence (Kurtulus Savas). Although the early regime of Mustafa Kemal Atatiirk has been interpreted as having sought to base its principles on the ideals of both the American and Russian Bolshevik revolutions,7 Turkey took a decisively pro-Western and anti-Soviet orientation after World II. …

Reviewed by: The Ottoman Road to War in 1914: The Ottoman Empire and the First World War Alexander M. Shelby The Ottoman Road to War in 1914: The Ottoman Empire and the First World War. By Mustafa Aksakal. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2008. ISBN 978-0-52188060-2. List of abbreviations. Glossary. Maps. Notes. Bibliography. Index. Pp. xv, 216. $99.00. In this short, well researched volume, Mustafa Aksakal, assistant professor at the American University, explores why the Ottoman Empire entered the First World War in 1914. Aksakal asserts that literature dealing with the Ottoman participation in the Great War exclusively blames the Ottoman war minister, Ismail Enver Pasha, depicting him as the hawkish omnipotent leader who single-hand-edly [End Page 1355] guided the empire into the war. Other historians claim that the Young Turk leadership was seduced by German overtures to join the war. Aksakal, however, takes a new perspective by attributing the misfortune of the Ottoman commitment towards belligerence to the political and military environment surrounding the Ottoman Empire. Aksakal’s book is divided into six chapters with an introduction and conclusion. Each chapter focuses on the period between 1913 and 1914 and the events that led the Ottoman leadership to seek to revive the “Sick Man of Europe.” Aksakal explains that this was a period when the Ottomans found themselves politically isolated and increasingly under European financial and economic domination. This pressure persuaded the Ottoman leadership under the Committee of Union and Progress (CUP) that the only way to save the empire was to align it with one of the Great Powers. The general consensus among the Turkish elite also focused on the notion that war was the only option to forge a new global order in which the empire would achieve economic and political independence (p. 191). Aksakal challenges the notion that Enver sought a Great Power alliance in order to expand the empire to include the Turks of Central Asia. He argues that Enver and the other leaders of the CUP viewed war not as a way to build a new empire, but as a “war of independence” from European domination (p. 17). This attitude among the CUP leadership stemmed from a series of incidents that plagued the empire from 1878 to 1914. Aksakal’s narrative of the Ottoman crisis begins in 1913 after the First Balkan War when the empire found itself succumbing to British, French, and Russian demands. Aksakal contends that the emotional drain of the Balkan Wars on the Ottomans and the fear of losing territory in eastern Anatolia to the Russians forced the CUP leadership to seek German aid in 1914 in order to save the empire. Aksakal observes that when Germany, in anticipation of the Ottomans joining the war effort, agreed to give them aid, the CUP leadership, guided by Enver, hesitated and attempted to delay the Ottoman pledge towards war by citing a Bulgarian-Ottoman alliance as a condition to war. It was not until Germany’s Kaiser Wilhelm II refused to allow any more assistance to reach Istanbul and the “alliance became strained to the point of rupture” that the CUP leadership, facing the prospect of being politically isolated once again, reluctantly agreed to German demands (p. 154). This well organized and well written volume is extensively researched with a wide variety of primary sources that include those of the Turkish General Staff, the Ottoman Archives of the Prime Minister, and the German Foreign Office as well as the German Federal Military Archives. The book’s strongest asset is the scope of the second half of the volume, which deals with the Ottoman attempts to avoid war. Aksakal’s argument that Enver Pasha was not the all-powerful tyrant who drove the empire to its demise is solidly based in primary sources. [End Page 1356] Alexander M. Shelby Florida State University Tallahassee, Florida Copyright © 2009 The Society for Military History

196 SHOFAR Fall 1996 Vol. 15, No. 1 established to deal effectively with xenophobia, violence, and right-wing extremism. All the essays in this book combine to make a significant contribution to our understanding of antisemitism in contemporary Germany. In fact, though the focus is primarily on "German antisemitism," there are important lessons that can be learned in addressing new forms of antisemitism in other countries. In a changing world, it is important to realize that antisemitism assumes new and dangerous guises. One would think that, after the Shoah, the new forms would not rear their ugly heads, but Antisemitismus in Deutschland provides us with comprehensive documentation that this is unfortunately not the case. Jack Zipes Department of German, Scandinavian and Dutch University of Minnesota No Trophy, No Sword: An American Volunteer in the Israeli Air Force During the 1948 War of Independence, by Harold Uvingston. New York: edition q, 1994. 262 pp. $21.95. The subtitle of this autobiographical book is somewhat misleading, because the writer never served in the Israeli Air Force (IAF). After serving as a communication specialist with the U.S. Army Air Forces, in April 1948 he joined one of the covert organizations which then were being set up to provide arms for the embattled Yishuv. While Haganah agents scoured the world in search of possible arms purchases, there remained the problem .of how to bring the weapons, immediately rifles, machine guns, and mortars, to Palestine, a difficult task because the British had been and steadfastly remained opposed to the establishment of a Jewish state, while the State Department also reversed its poSition and prohibited the export of war materiel to the region, a prohibition enforced by both the U.S. Customs Service and the FBI. To overcome these obstacles, Jewish businessmen in the United States established a number of dummy aviation corporations, including the SchwimmerAviation Company of Burbank, California, transmuted into the Uneas Aeras de Panama, designed to purchase planes and fly them to Palestine and later Israel, carrying desperately needed arms and later even dismantled fighter planes for the slowly evolving Israel Defence Force (lDF). Moreover, on occasion these transport planes were pressed into Book Reviews 197 service as improvised bombers, the crews literally chucking bombs at advancing Egyptian columns in the Negev. In the beginning, pilots, navigators, radio operators, and ground stafffor the air transport operation were largely recruited from Jewish veterans who had served in the American, British, and Dominion air forces, but they remained civilians. Even though organized as the ATC (Air Transport Command) in the line summer of 1948, in the author's view "ATC [remained] a civilian allforeign volunteer operation and therefore sacrosanct" from conscription (p. 214). And when as part of the regularization of the IDF in December 1948 the new Israeli Air Force (IAF) tried to incorporate these men into its ranks, livingston refused. While many signed contracts turning them into regular air force personnel, livingston refused to submit. Even when given the choice between induction or immediate repatriation, Livingston chose to return to the United States and never served in the IAF. In the end, perhaps, the distinction is not important-livingston did the state some service. This is an intensely personal memoir of days now almost forgotten. livingston, who later became a successful fiction writer, provides a vivid picture of the efforts to purchase and fly aircraft out of the United States, usually one step ahead of the authorities, of the ruses used to bring the planes across the Atlantic, of the secret air base set up in Czechoslovakia to load arms and disassembled fighter planes, of life in wartime Tel Aviv, including an eye-witness account ofthe unfortunate"SS Altalena" incident, when, acting on direct orders from Ben Gurion, Palmach units fired on a ship bringing arms for the still separate Irgun units within the army. If on some occasions this account seems to blur truth and fiction, and if like many old veterans the author remembers certain matters with advantage, and despite some unnecessary excursions into events in which the author was not a direct participant, this is a book well worth reading, carrying the reader back to a perhaps simpler time...

Author argues that by shifting from the Balkans-Middle East axis to the historical Greece-Turkey axis we could open broader terms for our discussion of the post-Ottoman space. He offers several reasons why this shift could be fruitful for discussions of 'religion, ethnicity, and contested nationhood in the post-Ottoman space.' He then discusses some of the dynamics of Greek War of Independence of the 1820s in light of the Turkish War of Independence a century later. In addition to the fascinating cases of particular nation-states in the process of formation and the master narrative of imperial reforms in the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, there were also multiple and persistently imperial processes to be examined. The chapter argues that the Greek and Turkish Wars of Independence, despite their extreme differences, contain important isomorphisms as well as causal connections that can lead to new insights on the creation of a post-Ottoman space. Keywords:Balkans-Middle East axis; Greece-Turkey axis; Greek War of Independence; Ottoman Empire; post-Ottoman space; Turkish war

1908 yılında ilan edilen İkinci Meşrutiyet ile başlayan Osmanlı Devleti’nin son dönemine damga vuran özgürlük ve reform talepleri Osmanlı kadın hareketine olumlu katkı yaparak bu alandaki gelişmeleri hızlandırdı. Bu dönemin bir diğer öne çıkan gelişmesi, Balkan Savaşları (1912-1913) Birinci Dünya Savaşı (1914-1918) ve ardından gelen İstiklâl Harbi (1919-1922) ile on yıllık savaşlar dizisidir. Savaş koşulları altında kadınların toplumsal hayattaki rolleri arttığından kadın hareketi de güç kazandı. Almanya, özellikle 19. yüzyılın son çeyreğinden itibaren Osmanlı Devleti’ne yönelik nüfuz politikasını daha sistemli hale getirdi. Şansölye Otto von Bismarck’ın görev süresinin sonlarına doğru başlatılan girişimler 1888 yılından itibaren, II. Wilhelm’in Alman tahtına çıkmasıyla daha kapsamlı bir hal aldı. Almanya, II. Abdülhamid’in modernleşme taleplerini karşılayacak uzmanlık alt yapısı ve sermayeye sahipti. Bu durum iki imparatorluk arasında iş birliklerini çoğalttı. İş birlikleri, Almanya’nın özellikle İngiltere ve Fransa gibi dönemin emperyalist devletlerinin karşısına rakip olarak çıkmasına neden oldu. Osmanlı Devleti’nin son dönemi dış politikası ile alakalı çalışmaların odak noktalarından biri olan Almanya ile ilişkiler daha çok askeri, diplomatik ve iktisadi açılardan incelenmiştir. Oysaki Birinci Dünya Savaşı’nda Almanya ile kurulan ittifak kültür, eğitim gibi alanlarda da önemli gelişmelerin yaşanmasını sağlamıştır. Almanya kültür faaliyetlerini Osmanlı Devleti ile ilişkilerinin uzun süreli ve kalıcı olmasına yarayacak bir araç gibi gördü ve Osmanlı’da eğitimin modernleşmesi için faaliyetler yürüttü. Osmanlı kadın hareketinin en talepkâr olduğu bu alanda Alman ve Osmanlı kadın hareketi kesişmektedir. İttihat ve Terakki Cemiyeti, Balkan Savaşları sonrası iktidarı tam anlamıyla ele aldığından kadın hareketi cemiyetin sosyal politik görüşlerine göre şekillendi. Osmanlı Devleti’nin son döneminde kadınlar toplumsal hayatta ve meslek, eğitim alanlarında daha görünür hale geldi. Avrupa’da kadınların hak mücadelesi çok daha eskiye dayanmaktadır. Almanya’da kadın hareketi 19. yüzyılın ilk çeyreğine kadar uzanmaktadır. Eğitim hakkını elde etme mücadelesi bu alanların başında gelir. Dolayısıyla Almanya’da öğretmenlik kadın hareketinde öne çıkan meslek koludur. Almanya Osmanlı kültür politikaları konusunda Türk kadınının geleceği ile yakından ilgilenmiştir. Savaşın son yılında İstanbul’a gelerek Dârülfünun’da Türk Kadın Hareketi (Türkische Frauenbewegung) başlıklı bir konuşma yapan Alman kadın hareketinin öncülerinden Dr. Gertrud Bäumer’in konuşması Alman kültür politikası için bir örnektir. Bäumer’nin Almanya’da Ernst Jäckh, Friedrich Naumann gibi Alman emperyalist politikasını destekleyen liberallerle kurduğu ilişki onun İstanbul seyahatinin politik bir yönünü de göstermektedir. Özellikle Ernst Jäckh, Osmanlı Devleti ve Almanya kültür iş birliklerinin yürütülmesinde ilk sırada gelen isimdir. Savaş zamanı çok defa İstanbul’a geldi, Osmanlı Devleti’nin geleceği ile alakalı çeşitli kitaplar kaleme aldı. Onun desteği ile gerçekleşen bu seyahat Alman emperyalizmin ideolojik boyutuna da ışık tutmaktadır.

This article focuses on philhellenic travellers' perceptions and experiences of Greece in the early nineteenth century, especially during the War of Independence in the 1820s. The central argument is that philhellenes – that is to say, supporters of Greek independence from the Ottoman Empire – understand Greece as a ‘real-and-imagined’ space. Greece is an ‘imagined’ location in the sense that philhellenic conception of it is shaped by certain rhetorical assumptions and priorities. But, evidently, it is also a ‘real’ space, not simply in the obvious sense that the landscape has a tangible existence, but also in that those rhetorical constructions have concrete consequences and expressions. These expressions are especially significant because philhellenic travellers conceive the region as both a literal and conceptual borderland on the edges of Europe. They consider Greece fundamental to European history, culture and self-definition, but because it is ruled by the Ottoman Empire, it is also an unfamiliar space at the margins of Europe. In other words, Greece is both within and outside European space, and its liminal position represents wider uncertainties about the conception of Europe in the early nineteenth century.

Before the Industrial Revolution, which is stated to have started in Great Britain in Europe in the 18th century, many social events occurred in different parts of the continent. As a result of these social events that lasted for at least two centuries, the capitalization process began, starting from the rural areas. As a consequence of the Industrial Revolution, searches for raw materials and markets and the competition in this field affected the Ottoman Empire the most. While the Ottoman Empire survived with traditional agricultural production methods until the 18th century, it was dragged into a state crisis after this date, especially due to the deterioration in the land regime and the lost wars. Being aware of the industrial movements in Europe, the Ottoman Empire gave priority to the fields of military industry. Established as the heir to the Ottoman Empire, the Republic of Turkey inherited an underdeveloped and economically bad legacy, whose industry was in the hands of non-Muslims. After the war of independence, the priority of Ghazi Mustafa Kemal and the founding staff was to catch up with the Industrial Revolution experienced in Europe and to establish a fully independent economy and a developed national industry despite all kinds of impossibilities.

Western states created the concept of the Eastern Question for the nations living in the eastern regions, which they considered to pose a danger. The plans, which were designed with the aim of repelling the Turkish communities when they came to Anatolia, did not achieve their goal from the 11th century to the 19th century, when the Turks became the dominant power in the region. As a result of the end of the glorious periods of the Ottoman Empire and the beginning of the rise of European states, Western states targeted the Ottoman Empire within the framework of the Eastern Question both against the Ottoman pressure they had felt for centuries and in order to continue their political and economic rise. In addition, factors such as the strategic position of the Ottoman Empire and its underground and aboveground resources attracted the attention of the West. In this direction, the Western states, which were ahead of the Ottoman Empire in the fields of knowledge and technique, could not confront the Ottoman Empire directly, and wanted to weaken the state through political, economic and sometimes military methods. Within the framework of these plans, the Western states utilised their own cognates and co-religionists living in the territory of the Ottoman Empire and promised them independent nation states. Affected by this, the Ottoman nations entered into a struggle for independence with the state. Armenians, one of these nations, started the struggle for independence with Muslim Turks, with whom they had lived in the same country for centuries. In the Ottoman Empire, the region of Maraş and Zeytun, where Armenians were densely populated, became the base of Armenian rebellion movements. In this study, the activities of Armenians in and around Maraş during the last period of the Ottoman Empire and the War of Independence and the Armenian Question will be analysed.

The Romanian Orthodox Church

Dangerous Gifts: Imperialism, Security, and Civil Wars in the Levant, 1798–1864

Strong as Steel, Fragile as a Rose:A Turkish Jewish Witness to the Twentieth Century Leyla Neyzi (bio) Until recently, Jewish experience in modern Turkey attracted much less scholarly interest than the history of Jews in the Ottoman Empire. One of the many reasons for this is the reticence of the Turkish Jewish community to be in the public gaze. Only in the past decade or so have a history and an image of the community begun to emerge in the public sphere,1 albeit cautiously, and they remain distinct from intracommunal discourse. The emergence of Turkish Jewish voices and their representation in the public sphere parallel the quest for democratization and the growing interest in history, memory, and identity in Turkish society as a whole. This interest is linked to recent debates concerning the legacy of the Kemalist revolution and its implications for the meaning of Turkishness in the twenty-first century.2 The status and experience of minorities play an important role in this debate. The debates in the public sphere in Turkey, along with emerging interest globally in questions of identity and subjectivity, have produced a growing body of social science research on Turkey. One of the emerging growth areas is social history of the twentieth century, including oral history. Oral history can make an important contribution [End Page 167] to debates on historical events that are highly contentious, or about which the historical record remains largely silent.3 The subjective and presentist nature and narrative structure of oral history make it a useful means of studying how the past is understood, interpreted, and experienced by subjects in the present.4 Oral historians have mined life history narratives to come to terms with the ambivalence, ambiguity, contradiction, and lack of cohesion that characterizes subjective experience and its articulation in everyday life.5 Oral history is an invaluable tool in the study of national, communal, and subjective identity. I begin this article with an overview of Jewish experience in the Ottoman Empire and the Turkish Republic. I will then discuss the oral history narrative and military journal of Yaşar Paker, born Haim Albukrek in 1896 in the Jewish neighborhood of the city of Ankara, a community that no longer exists. Paker was an important witness to life in the Jewish community of Ankara in the years leading up to its establishment as the capital of the new Turkish Republic. He was also witness to two important but little-known events in Ottoman/Turkish history: the experience of non-Muslim "soldiers" conscripted into labor battalions during the Turkish "War of Independence" (1919– 22),6 and this conscription again during World War II. I was fortunate in that Paker shared with me the journal he kept during his experience as a soldier in 1921, and that he allowed me to interview him in 1997.7 This has made it possible to compare a historical document with an oral history narrative recounted in the present. At the advanced age of 101, Paker said: "If I have lived until today, it is because I suffered so much. Suffering makes a person strong. Man is strong as steel, fragile as a rose." In my analysis of his oral history narrative, I suggest that Ankara functions as a trope for the traditional past that "enlightened" Jews came to reject. Paker's depiction of his military experiences in both his journal and his oral account demonstrates the contradictory position of Turkish Jews between Christians and Muslims as well as their ambiguous and ambivalent relationship to Turkishness. Paker's dual narratives exemplify the long-standing identification of Turkish Jews with modernity and reflect their unease with discourses of difference, at least in the public sphere. This contrasts with the rise of postmodernist discourses of identity and difference among other minorities in Turkey, such as the Kurds and the Alevis (a community of heterodox Muslims). Whether emerging representations of Turkish Jews will result in an analogous public discourse of difference remains to be seen. [End Page 168] Jewish Experience in the Ottoman Empire A distinguishing feature of the experience of Jews in Turkey is that, unlike in the West, they live in a Muslim (rather than...

This study is to find out the history of people's mobilization by the Ottoman Empire in the Caucasus war in 1914-1918 and its relation to how people's mobilization was carried out in the Indonesian War of Independence in 1945-1949. The method in this study uses a qualitative-exploratory method supported by the theory of war, the theory of nationalism, and the theory of Defense Management. The study results show similarities and differences between the mobilization of the Ottoman people in the Caucasus War and the mobilization of the Indonesian people in the War of Independence. Then it was found that the mobilization of the people carried out by the Ottoman Empire in the form of policies of the Empire's leaders and declarations of Muslim religious figures amounted to 2.87 million people out of 23 million population (12.39%) and in the mobilization of the Indonesian people during the War of Independence amounted to 37.76 million out of 75.53 million. The number of residents (50%) was carried out through speeches and orations from warrior figures by igniting the spirit to participate in the struggle to fight against the British and Dutch by prioritizing the high fighting spirit of nationalism simultaneously and universally throughout the territory of Indonesia.

By studying the continuity between the Ottoman Empire and its succeeding Turkish Republic, this article aims to address one crucial aspect of the denial of the Armenian genocide by the Turkish state, namely the issue of state responsibility. There are psychological barriers in Turkey which have largely suppressed the memories of possible wrongdoings during World War I and the ensuing ‘Independence War’. However, the barrier that is created by the issue of state responsibility is identified here as the fundamental obstacle for genocide recognition by the Turkish state. This article aims to apply some of the existing legal principles and theories of international law in order to test their applicability to the two Turkish states and the issue of internationally wrongful acts committed during World War I and the ensuing years. In addition to the Turkish Republic bearing the identity of the Ottoman Empire, this article suggests that the Republic not only failed to stop doing the wrongful acts of its predecessor, but it also continued the very internationally wrongful acts committed by the Young Turk government. Thus, the insurgent National Movement, which later became the Republic, made itself responsible for not only its own wrongful acts but also those of its predecessor, including the act of genocide committed in 1915–1916. The issue of possible liability has ever since the creation of the Republic formed the denialist policy which is Turkey’s to this day. (Less)

The refusal of Alexander I to declare war on the Ottoman Empire in support of the Greek Uprising in 1821 provided Russian military men with a possibility to reflect on the past Russian–Ottoman wars and prepare the best strategy for future confrontation. One of the aspects of this reflection was the growing interest of Russian military planners in the ethno-confessional composition and political attitudes of the local population in the territory of the prospective war theater. This article argues that increased attention to the population reflected the desire of the tsarist planners to avoid excesses of a “people’s war” rather than to unleash its destructive potential. Despite a strong emotional response that the Greek War of Independence provoked among the Russian military, their perspectives on the Ottoman Empire during the 1820s were for the most part quite restrained and conservative.