A transnational ‘City upon a hill’

NB: I haven’t read either reading particularly carefully as of yet, so I may disclaim the opinions expressed here in class tomorrow.

When I was in high school I did an American history course (which might have been odd given that I’ve never lived in the United States, though I am close enough to the US-Canadian border that I can pick up television signals from Buffalo), and one of the important notions that my history teacher stressed about the earliest settlers who landed in Plymouth, and to a lesser extent the men who would spark the American Revolution, were very much motivated by the idea that this new country could be the archetypal ‘city upon a hill’ which Jesus describes in his Sermon on the Mount. That is, America is fundamentally different from everything that has gone before it and will come after it, and should be taken as a shining example of purity and goodness, as opposed to the corrupt and wicked European states from which the United States sought to distance itself. The ‘City upon a hill’ has become a byword for American exceptionalism, as well as isolationism, ever since.

Early American relationships with its neighbours could often be fraught. It invaded British North America, the territory that would become Canada, twice (though it would obviously experience a sea-change in its relations with Britain throughout the twentieth century) and frequently warned European nations to stay out of the Western hemisphere, though that apparently did not preclude the Americans from interfering in the affairs of other nations, as with the invasions of Haiti and the Spanish-American War over the Philippines. The United States also experienced a period of insularity and isolationism after the First World War, though Woodrow Wilson’s influence on the League of Nations (and to a lesser extent, its successor, the United Nations) cannot be understated. Despite the foot-dragging on the part of the US in getting into the Second World War, the Churchill-Roosevelt alliance forged from 1939-1944 would significantly influence the course of the war and fundamentally alter the way that the United States saw itself – it was now a great power, almost in the European mold, and had a chance to further influence integrate itself into a new world order.

All this is to say, in a rather roundabout way, is that the United States, despite disclaiming relations with other foreign powers and perhaps pretending that it can remove itself from the wider world, is part of a complex nexus of transnational networks. Despite (more in its early days than now, I suspect) attempting to set itself apart from the world and be that ‘city upon a hill’ above the moral morass and filth, the history of the United States can be defined as much by its transnational influences as well as its national ones. This is the point that Tyrrell is trying to make, that American national history can be complemented by examining transnational connections, and is an important lesson in how transnational history can complement national histories.

Tyrell, Ian, Transnational Nation, United States History in Global Perspective since 1789, (Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan 2007), Intro, chapters 1, 3, and 4.

Unconventional Approaches to Understanding American History

Ian Tyrrell’s Transnational Nation. United States History in Global Perspective Since 1789 is an innovative study regarding the connections and interchange between the US and the rest of the world during America’s process of development and expansion. It is easy to generalize and look to conventional relationships in America’s past to explain the country’s progression but Tyrrell’s transnational approach uncovers hidden connections and links that present us with a vastly improved narrative.

In studying America as a whole, the issue of focusing on and using the nation arises. As we debated in class last week, the role of the nation in a transnational approach to history is in question. While looking at histories from a national approach might constrain historians into conventional boxes, realistically nations are the driving force of our world and have been for the greater part of the modern period. Tyrrell’s explaination of the nation’s role in transnational history is a comprise between solely national and borderless. While he recognizes issues that society faces are blended and blurred across national borders, the retained sovereignty of a nation dictates substantial elements of identity and policy that we must seek to understand. In his perspective, we should not discount a national approach because a nation and its identity and culture, is inherently created out of transnational factors. This method forces us to investigate the connections behind a nation and will possibly provide a better understanding of the nation-states have inclinations towards or differences against one another.

Tyrrell’s books periodizes American History into four stages of expansion and progress. These division retain chronologically conventional, but the connections studied within the sections demonstrate a vast stretch across political, economic, and socially studies.  In the chapters I read, there is vivid narrative of lesser known driving forces and connections in America’s history. The intricate relationships between America, both regionally and national, and parts of South American, Europe, and Asia create a map of links spanning across the globe. Because he focuses on so many captivating stories, it leaves us to question how many more hidden relationships are there in our past, connecting Americans to the various corners of the globe.

 One of the most interesting factors in discussing America’s expansion touched on a transnational approach to racism and exclusivity during the 18th and 19th centuries. Looking first at Native Americans, Tyrrell focuses on elements of the controversial topic through transnational connections. While this is in no way a justification, it provides a objective narrative that helps uncover the true motives of pushing west and persecuting native people as a way to eliminate European threats. Similarly, parts of the book  deal with the transnational connections tied to promoting or abolishing southern slavery. Tyrrell introduces connections between American slavery and the Haitian Revolution, French Revolution, English emancipation of slaves, and Revolutions of 1848. The vast amounts of connections that tie slavery to Prussian suffrage or English commerce dictate how Transnational History can expose a nation’s history, identity and culture from unconventional and limitless starting points.

Overall, the sections of Tyrrell’s book were extremely enthralling and informative in explaining unconventional connections that heavily developed America’s history. I would be very interested in reading the remainder of the book and learning how the flow of influence and culture continuously shifts to and away from America. While becoming more aware of Transnational History and its limitless possibilities, this book was successful in illuminating the benefit of a transnational approach by focusing on numerous hidden connections of America’s past.

Ian Tyrell’s ‘Transnational Nation’

In the introduction, Tyrell begins with a brief outline of the traditional narrative often ascribed to the formation of the United States as a nations. This narrative focuses on domestic developments which championed internal forces over European cultural influence, almost giving the impression that America developed in isolation. Tyrell aims to challenge this oversimplified image of American history through an exploration of the way that America’s history shaped/has been shaped by global events, placing US history in the context of larger global shifts and patterns. He argues that ‘the nation itself is produced transnationally’ (p.3) as a nations must define themselves against others, and this occurs at multiple regional and global contexts concerning security, economic competition, and demographic changes. Therefore, the development of the United States was dependent on factors such as pressures from Britain and France, or wider patterns of social and economic modernisation.

Chapter One deals with the relationship between America and the wider world, particularly Britain and France, from 1789-1815. Tyrell here paints a picture of America that sees it as torn between British and French rivalry. These transatlantic connections form an important aspect of internal conflicts within the US at the time as America’s fledgling political parties had either pro-French (Democratic-Republicans) or pro-British (Federalists) sympathies.  He also provides transnational links for America’s territorial expansion stating that events such as the Louisiana Purchase were prompted by a fear of other nations inhibiting US regional dominance. This chapter effectively highlights the way in which the traditional view of internal growth is challenged by a shift in focus towards America’s relations with other world powers. However, it is important to note that the transnational exchange was not one-way, Tyrell also states that the revolutionary movement in France in 1789 was influence by the earlier American Revolution, creating a cyclical flow of revolutionary ideas.

It is ideas, and their movement, that chapter three focuses on. A number of examples are given in this chapter, such as the Temperance movement. This is particularly interesting as it shows the way in which the flow of ideas can be facilitated by other transnational aspects. The Temperance movement was spread primarily through America’s maritime trade links. This links to a broader theme which runs across both this chapter and Chapter 4: the theme of migration. It is ultimately the flow of people, in this case sailors and missionaries, that facilitate the spread of ideas, making migration an important transnational issue. This is the focus of Chapter four.

Chapter four is by far the most interesting chapter as, aside from migration being a ‘hot topic’, as historians such as Clavin have stated transnational history is about people and the networks they form, and the importance of these networks is particularly apparent in this chapter. It begins in the same way as the introduction in that it provides an overview into the traditional American narrative of immigration which is seen as a one-way process in which arrival in the US was followed by assimilation and a loss of culture. However, Tyrell shows this interpretation to be too simplistic. He states that immigration is a larger transnational process that is made possible by factors such as advances in global communications and multiple global and regional layers of economic shifts. I admit that I was guilty of subscribing to the image of America in the period before 1924 as the main destination for immigration. The romantic image of immigrants travelling to America for a better life has persisted in various cultural forms. However, Tyrell shows that immigration to America was not unique, rather it was part of a global movement, with America as one of many destinations. Nevertheless, America benefitted from the influx of immigration as meant that the labour demand could be filled. The most important aspect of the chapter is that it demonstrates the effect that transnational migration flows had on the world. In Europe the population shift towards the US meant that it lost a large part of its young male workforce, aiding America’s pre-1914 economic dominance. However, Europe also benefitted from this transnational movement as returning migrants often brought wealth and US innovations back to their communities.

Clavin, Patricia, ‘Defining Transnationalism’, Contemporary European History 14, 4 (2005), pp. 421-439.

Tyrell, Ian, Transnational Nation, United States History in Global Perspective since 1789, (Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan 2007), Intro, chapters 1, 3, and 4.

Comparing Rita CHIN and Ian TYRELL

Several thoughts on a comparison between Ian Tyrell’s Transnational History: United States History in Global Perspectives since 1789 and Rita Chin’s The Guest Worker Question in Postwar Germany.

First of all, the central arguments of both works. Tyrell states that there are two themes to his book: first, it emphasises the ‘porous boundaries’ between American and foreign developments – culturally, economically and socially; second, the development of a distinctive ’empire’ out of these experiences of connectedness. It argues that the nation itself is produced transnationally. Meanwhile, Chin’s work has the aim of demonstrating ‘ways in which the guest worker question is inextricably bound up with central issues of German social, political, and cultural history after 1945.

In terms of analytic angle, then, Tyrell looks at the reciprocal relationship between America and foreign countries, whereas Chin focuses on one particular transnational influence on German society – that of labour migration. Simply put, Chin’s work challenges the ‘core-periphery’ binary in postwar German historiography by arguing for migration constituting a significant role in the development of postwar German identity and a specifically German type of multiculturalism. Tyrell, on the other hand, primarily challenges the introspective/hermetical narrative of American historical development that does not give enough considerations to transnational influences.

I would like to structure my subsequent discussion on the differences between Tyrell and Chin using the three categories of ‘time’, ‘manner’ and ‘place’ suggested by Patricia Clavin in her 2010 article. For Chin, her historical study rejects a representation of ‘a neat catalogue of successive positions,’ but attempts to trace the shifting emphases within a larger debate that always consists of ‘multiple issues and categories,’ wherein ‘one issue became increasingly prevalent during certain moments.’ (my emphasis) For instance, in the period between 1966-7, there was a mounting critique of the guest worker program, which could have led to a more open public debate about the costs and consequences of labour migration, were it not for the series of social crises created by the ‘increasingly radicalised student movement’ in the latter half of 1967 that preoccupied the West German government.

As for Tyrell, being alert to the ‘multifarious transnational connections of the US,’ he argues that the national formation of the country happens simultaneously with other transnational developments. For example, Tyrell marks the period from 1880s-1920s as one in which a ‘stronger nation-state is consolidated within the context of new imperial rivalries,’ where ‘modern American nationalism is forged against external threats.’ It does not presume the existence of a stable American frontier before transnational influences came into play.

In a discussion of the methodology in each work, I will address ‘manner’ and ‘place’ at the same time. Chin introduces the idea of the ‘public sphere’ with reference to Jürgen Habermas. As Chin goes on to argue, debates about the guest worker question ‘played out simultaneously at the levels of labour policy, mass media, and cultural representation,’ (19) demonstrating the ‘interconnectedness of politics, economics and culture.’ Therefore, in constructing her arguments, Chin draws on official policies (such as the 1955 labour recruitment treaty signed between West Germany and Italy; the halt to all foreign labour recruitment in November 1973), reports by news media (portrayal of ‘Turkish revolt’ in mainstream media in 1973; letters to the editor pointing to the unsuitability of describing migrant workers as ‘guest’) and cultural critique (by Max Fisch, grass root artists and a chapter on Turkish poet Aras Ören) to locate the shifting prevalence of different voices and issues.

In one chapter, Tyrell explores the mutual influences which Europe and America had on each other’s social and political reforms. He looked to institutions to prove his point – the ways penitentiaries demonstrate transnational relations because the designer is of an English background, the Eastern Penitentiary is built in Philadelphia, and it drew observers and emulators from Britain, Germany, Belgium and Russia. Other reforms mentioned by Tyrell include the ‘temperance movement’ and the abolition of slavery. Nonetheless, in the period under discussion (19th century), the question of race as a distinctive and intractable part of American society not shared by Europe makes comparisons more difficult.

Some thoughts on language use in transnational history (inspired by Chin’s introduction and readings from previous weeks.)

*Note: This is an attempt to express a thought that has been bothering me, by tomorrow I may completely disagree with everything I have just written.*

I’ve had this niggling idea since last week of this issue of language in transnational history more so than other branches of history that I have studied previously; the word choice and phraseology of transnational history feels much more self-conscious and deliberate.
Take Chin’s introduction, within a page she is already second guessing the use of the terms ‘foreigner’ and ‘guest worker.’ However, it was the description of the PR stunt (production of propaganda) at the train station in Cologne that got me thinking.
Maybe the language in transnational history feels more deliberate because for a history of connections to be possible people must be in some way differentiated or ‘othered’ from each other. In national history it’s less conscious we may all have our own narrative of our national (insert other aspect of identity where appropriate e.g. ethnic) history but because broadly speaking most of the other subjects of the history being studied have the same or a very similar narrative there’s less likely to be a need to mention it or label it. Also, with a central national narrative it is clear that other groupings are the ‘other’ and that the primary interest of the historian and therefore the narrative is the main national group being studied. Historians are guilty of marginalising some narratives simply because it’s not their primary focus at the time and so these become peripheral. For example, a historian specialising in British history whilst writing about the Second World War would be expected to approach from a British perspective, it’s not bias as such but a known slant; we will always favour what we know most about and to an extent will feel defensive of our specialisation but in transnational history this isn’t supposed to exist.
Chin is attempting to write a transnational history of guest workers in West Germany not a German national history about guest workers. She is not expected to favour either side of the narrative and in order to write about at least two distinct groups or categories; guest workers and Germans; she has to use clear labels which like all labels applied to human beings become more blurred the closer you look; at what point do you cease to be a ‘guest’ and become permanent, are second generation ‘guest workers’ still ‘guest workers’?
Transnational history pans out to the bigger picture but then wants to zoom in on the detail so keeping labels and divisions clear enough to see individual, distinct connections is difficult. And in this case, and others, there is deliberate language used at the time to form rhetoric. ‘Guest worker’ implies welcome but temporarily, there is the capacity to out stay one’s welcome and this is further emphasised in the staging of that famous photo of Armando Rodrigues (which Chin analyses very well so I see no need to repeat see page 5.)
Transnational history has been reminding me of issues in Social Anthropology because there is a major common concern; how to categorise human beings into distinct enough groups to allow for analysis without creating bias, without causing offense, whether or not to impose groupings that would not have been evident to the subjects but are evident to the observer, which facets of identity are relevant to a given study. We can not simply use self-description from subjects as there may not always be one or one person’s definition of what it means to be x identifier will differ from another’s.
This issue contributes to transnational history being very aware of language and artificial categorisation in other instances such as the name of the discipline, periodisation, the nature of nations and more. The discipline is self-conscious because it has to be. To show connections and discourse there needs to be separation and differentiation; even a Venn diagram needs distinct circles to show the overlap. In order to show how artificial some of the specialisms and divisions that have been created in historical study are we must first attempt to define the boundaries in between.

 

Shapes

I was picturing this kind of thing whilst I was trying to get my head around what I was trying to express.  For the record there is an arrow within the ‘rectangle’ roughly the same size as the one between the squares, you just can’t see it clearly because I removed the boundary between the squares.

Sources:

Chin, Rita. The Guest Worker Question in Postwar Germany (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press 2007), intro

Christopher A. Bayly et al., ‘AHR Conversation: On Transnational History’, American Historical Review
111/5 (2006), 1441-1464

Clavin, Patricia, ‘Defining Transnationalism’, Contemporary European History 14/4 (2005), 421-439.

Rüger, Jan, ‘OXO: Or, the Challenges of Transnational History’, European History Quarterly 40, no. 4
(October 1, 2010): 656–68.

Guest Workers in Post-war Germany

The introduction to Rita Chin’s book on guest workers in postwar-Germany focusses on the face, role and importance of guest workers in shaping the nation after the fall of the Third Reich. The wider argument highlights how the debate about the place of guest workers in Germany “forced a major rethinking of the definitions of German identity and culture. What began as a policy initiative to fuel the economic miracle eventually became a much broader discussion about the parameters of a distinctly German brand of multiculturalism” [p.14].
Between 1945 and 1990, Western Europe experienced three broad types of population movements: “guest worker migration, postcolonial migration, and the migration of asylum seekers and refugees.” [p.24]. Chin commences the article with the example of Armando Rodrigues – a Portugese worker who, like many others, left his family in 1964 to find work in Germany. What was different about Rodrigues was that he became the one-millionth guest worker in the Federal Republic, and was thus bestowed with a motorcycle and a bouquet of carnations when he arrived at the train station, captured in an iconic photograph for the media. This was a public acknowledgement by Germany of its dependence on migrant workers for industrial development, [p.3] and Rodrigues became the “labour migration’s first national icon” [p.6]. The motorcycle symbolically signified the importance of industry and the increasing availability of material luxury goods that, in theory, could be acquired by each newly arrived labourer if they worked hard [p.5]. There was no evidence, however, of the hard work involved, or the pain of having to leave families behind, for the workers in the photo – only the possibility of success and reward was stressed. Chin phrases it as follows: “The media event at the train station offered a highly circumscribed view of the guest worker in question. And the photograph itself reinforced the ideological frame constructed by German officials, quite literally cutting off Rodrigue’s past and future” [p.3].
The transnational aspect of Rodrigues was that he finally became a face of the mass of migrant workers. He personalised the movement and provoked questions about where he came from, and why. However, the influx of migrant workers resulted in a sizeable group of taxpaying individuals who were not granted political rights, nor citizenship. In fact, citizenship laws were not revised until 2000 to grant citizenship to migrant labourers and their descendants [p.23]. This is part of the story never told – the bits that were cut out of the picture frame just like in the newspaper photo of Rodrigues in 1964.
Chin stresses the problematic consequences for nations like Germany and Switzerland that imported large numbers of workers as a quick solution for labour shortages. With time, temporary labourers desired to become permanent workers in their new homes, making it difficult to turn them away. As a result, these previously homogenous nations became unintentionally international [p.25].
Moreover, the patterns and solutions for guest workers differed across various nations. Germany is a very different case study compared to, for example Scandinavia and Britain. In Sweden, travelling workers were seen as potential permanent immigrants and even encouraged to settle [p. 25]. Germany demonstrates the difficulty of generalizing about the position of minority groups in different countries. Thus a more open approach to different patterns of guest worker arrival and reception is also more appropriate for its study. This is not a topic of simply demographic change – in this context it ultimately concerns the development of a specifically German multiculturalism [p.29]. Migration is “a defining feature of the New Europe, the driving force behind the development of more ethnically diverse cultures and societies” [p.24]. Thus it needs to be studied, and to be studied across borders – the very definition of transnational history.

Rita Chin, Introduction: Conceptualizing the ‘Guest Worker’ Question, The Guest Worker Question in Postwar Germany, (New York, 2007).

Transnational Methodology in Rita Chin’s The Guest Worker Question in Postwar Germany

In the first chapter of her book The Guest Worker Question in Postwar Germany, Rita Chin makes an excellent case for the roles played by both Aras Ören and the wider Ausländerliteratur community in the German phenomenon which she calls the ‘guest worker question’. She traces the development of the social niche of migrant workers from the years just after the Second World War into the 1970s through both political and legal history and the growth of the guest worker subculture. Chin analyzes the position of guest workers in terms of culture, society and economy.

In terms of my personal analysis, her book (or at least the first chapter) exemplifies several qualities which I have come to believe constitute some of the greatest virtues of transnational approaches to history. The first is that the phenomena in question – namely, the guest worker question, Aras Ören, and the literature of the Gasterbeiter – are difficult to classify under one heading of significance; that is, these things cannot be defined as purely social nor political nor cultural in nature but rather all of those at once. Transnationalist analyses, at least to my understanding, require multiple dimensions of understanding across multiple characteristics; when identifying transnational experiences, it is unwise and often outright inaccurate to attempt to examine them as simply a product of society or of government or of the like. Secondly, Chin applies this approach to a marginalized group, identifying and contextualizing their experiences through a comprehensive examination of the multicultural influences and social realities that formed the basis of every day for these people. Through study of their literature and one their subculture’s most prominent voices, the evolution of the situation of the guest workers is fleshed out as an experience of periodic uncertainty and eventual community-building. I feel that transnational analysis is particularly well-suited to the study of marginalized or oppressed social groups, since the marginalization of most of them rests of a public understanding of their ‘otherness’ and the hybridization of a dominant culture with a smaller one. Finally, Chin is concerned with the description of transnational history that Patricia Clavin identified as fundamental to its practice; ‘transnationalism…is first and foremost about people: the social space they inhabit, the networks they form and the ideas they exchange.’ Chin’s focus on the practical and social realities of guest workers is exactly the kind of analysis that Clavin supports. In particular, the networks formed as a consequence of the emergence of Gasterbeiterliteratur are emphasized for their role in altering the sociolegal position of guest workers within Germany.

While I enjoyed this chapter and felt the analysis was sound, I feel that Chin sometimes used excerpts from Ören’s work without sufficient contextualization, leaving me wondering just how these texts were intended; in short, Chin gives us her interpretation, but I feel she withholds much of the perspective of contemporary readers with regard to her sources.  However, I understand that, given that I have only read two chapters of her book, I may have identified an issue which is thoroughly clarified in subsequent chapters, so I shall completely understand if my critique should be proven unfounded.

 

Sources:

Chin, Rita, The Guest Worker Question in Postwar Germany (Cambridge, 2007).
Clavin, Patricia, ‘Defining Transnationalism’, Contemporary European History 14, 4 (2005), pp. 421-439.

National governments as institutions in the study of transnational history

Patricia Clavin emphasizes that transnational history allows us t0 explore the history of supra-, trans-, and international institutions. She often references the League of Nations, as well as the United Nations, as heretofore unexplored nexuses for transnational history. However, it is also important to note that often, a central part of defining transnational history is that it rejects the nation-state as the primary category of inquiry, and in this way provides a break with previous historical analysis. The definition by Nye and Keohane of transnational history that Clavin cites explicitly excludes interactions where national governments are a party from the scope of transnational historical analysis. My question, however, is: can we look at national governments as transnationl ‘institutions’, in Clavin’s words, and analyse domestic government policy that could have possible transnational impacts as a part of our analysis?

Think of domestic government policy, around, say, illegal drugs. Historically the United States has taken a strong stand against the use and trafficking of illegal drugs, much of which comes into the country moving north across the US-Mexico border, despite the country creating one of the largest markets for illegal drugs in the world. It would be interesting to look at the networks which the sheer demand for narcotics create as they’re trafficked through South and Central America and the black market economy created by the trafficking of narcotics. One could also look at the foreign investigations of the Drug Enforcement Administration, which is responsible for investigations into drug trafficking in different countries, and often steps into diplomatic hot water in its interactions with various South American governments. Historically, one could also investigate the intersection between American involvement in Southeast Asia and Afghanistan in relation to American drug policy, given that these areas heavily involved in drug production and trade. Even the history of drug use in the United States is focused on othering and criminalizing non-white and immigrant American drug users – Chinese immigrants using opium on the West Coast, or Mexican workers using marijuana. The United States’ no-tolerance drug policy has an impact on transnational networks around the trading of illegal drugs, both within and without American borders, and perhaps future historians might look at the impact that the legalization of marijuana and other recreational drugs might have on drug trading networks.

There are many ways that domestic policies can affect transnational networks. Immigration might be another one, where less or more favourable immigration policies might affect ethnic communities; financial and manufacturing regulations might affect the ways that capital and products flow (or don’t flow) across international borders; government surveillance, perhaps with the aim of preventing terrorism, might also involve domestically ordered surveillance working covertly around the world. I think that while it is important to look carefully at the history of transnational institutions, we should also look carefully at the impact that domestic policies that can have on transnational networks.

Sources:

Clavin, Patricia, ‘Time, Manner, Place: Writing Modern European History in Global, Transnational and International Contexts’, European History Quarterly 40/4 (2010), 624-640

Clavin, Patricia, ‘Defining Transnationalism’, Contemporary European History 14/4 (2005), 421-439

The interest in narcotics trafficking was inspired by a recent viewing of Eugene Jarecki’s 2012 documentary film The House I Live In.

 

How to Define Transnational History

What is the definition of transnational history? A simple Google search of the phrase produces a myriad of results none offering a clear definition. A result from University College London entertain that they’re a forum for transnational historical research, but no explanation[1]. While a hit from St. Andrews University, gives a little more information; this is a way to see things not an actual historical method[2]. While giving more information than UCL, again there is no description. And a Wikipedia entry also emerges, it headlines the article with the term World History, and notes that world, global and transnational history are synonymous but not to be mistaken with diplomatic or international history[3]. In terms of defining transnational history, Google has produced three differing results so perhaps Patricia Clavin’s ‘Defining Transnationalism’ will make the definition of the term clearer[4].

Clavin’s essay is introduced with an abstract, something not too common within historical articles, and poses the idea that the term of transnational history can be best understood as building honeycombs. To Clavin, honeycombs bind together but there are hollow spaces where things can build or decline and then be replaced by new [421]. For me, this concept makes sense, categories are connected, but there is movement and space for the new to grow and the old to fall. But unfortunately, the rest of the article does not remain as straightforward.

Simply turning the page, and the illusion that I would be reading a concise and to the point definition of what transnationalism is was shattered when I was met with the term ‘fluidity’ [422]. Clavin’s point is that there is a lot of movement to the term of transnationalism because it can involve a wide variety of characters and therefore it is very difficult to actually define the term to a specific category. Moreover, only by understanding the differences between trans-, inter-, and supranational relations can a transnational approach be fully understood. Clavin believes that cultural historians do not distinguish between these terms and hence misinterpret what transnationalism involves [424]. According to Clavin, cultural historian’s, view transnational encounters as “Border Crossings” [423]. But while the crossing of borders is a correct assumption, Clavin argues that this sort of thinking promotes the suggestion that it is through these interactions, these crossings, borders are broken down. However, often groups exploit and work to maintain boundaries because they gain profit from their ability to cross them. Yet for the reader, Clavin’s argument loses focus, when even she does not properly define inter-, and supra-, relations in regards to their differences to transnationalism.

Moreover, while it is important to consider the nation as part of transnationalism, Clavin argues that it is also important to remove the subject from nationally determined timescales and compare the development over a wider chronological period [429]. This brings in the concept of scale, as the subject is not bounded to a national scale and can be studied at a more local or international level. Thus emphasising the idea of the subject transgressing the national boundaries for example, when studying economic history, boundaries of the nation-state are not always recognised.

It is easy, when discussing history to immediately fall into focusing on a specific country, forcing us between geographic boundaries. Clavin effectively highlights that within transnationalism, this is not the case. With the movement of people, ideas and goods, there are connections across the globe that do not relate specifically to a country and a better understanding of these connections would be to study the links and flows. And while this does not define transnationalism as concisely as hoped, that is precisely Clavin’s point, transnationalism does not have a set definition, because transnational history is not set or limited to boundaries. Clavin has allowed the reader to gain the understanding that this is a fresh perspective to take on history, to study beyond the borders of a nation-state.

So, how would I define transnational history? A complex web of relationships spanning national boundaries and years. It is a focus on the people, the ideas, the goods, the institutions and their movement throughout the wider world. It is to look at how everything interlinks and flows across boundaries and space. And while my definition is not one that will be quoted in any reputable Historical Journal and perhaps is even too basic and simplistic for what transnational history actually is, it’s a start.

[1] https://www.ucl.ac.uk/cth

[2] http://standrewstransnational.wp.st-andrews.ac.uk

[3] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/World_history

[4] Clavin, Patricia, ‘Defining Transnationalism’, Contemporary European History 14/4 (2005), 421-439

Discussing a Conversation: AHR’s Conversation on Transnational History

 

The attempt in the American Historical Review to more closely pin down what it means to write transnational history certainly makes for compelling reading as it presents the developing views of six historians with very varied backgrounds on a subject which, according to the introduction, is “in danger of becoming merely a buzzword among historians, more a label than a practice.”

The historians’ opening statements bring up various attempts to distinguish between transnational and global history, with a focus on the importance of movement being key to an understanding of the transnational. A further recurring theme is that of comparative studies, whether the comparison is between how something is done in different times or in different places or both.

The conversation brings up some key problems facing transnational historians, some of which have hindered the development of the subject in the past. Patricia Seed discusses the way that transnational history requires historians to “situate their topic within a much larger framework.” This is undoubtedly a large challenge, as an enlarged framework requires more research in order to retain historical accuracy, whilst also necessitating an increase in conciseness in order to keep pieces of works from ballooning in both length and complexity. Simply put there is a need to process more information into a similarly sized space.

There is a tangible sense of excitement at being at the forefront of a developing field that I can sense in the discussion, perhaps combined with one of intimidation at how much work has to be done before this field can be compared with others in terms of the breadth and depth of works undertaken, and this comes from historians originating from very different fields, highlighting the breadth of a transnational approach. Ideas broached during the conversation vary from social justice movements to global financial institutions.

One of the biggest problems is that of definition, and finding a relative consensus on this. There seems to be a divergence in views within the historians as to whether they are writing transnational history or writing history with a transnational aspect. I feel that this is an important distinction to make, as it feels that writing history with a transnational aspect rather than focussing more specifically on transnational history could result in less innovative studies with a superficial veneer of transnational methodology on top.

Overall the conversation is very thought provoking and seems to pose more questions than it answers, which is not necessarily a bad thing for an article written in this format. The concluding thoughts in the article highlight the vibrancy and potential of the field, whilst also emphasising the consideration of a younger generation of historians, which feels pertinent to our module given the way it is taught in a fashion to allow the students to take charge of ‘doing and practising’ themselves.

Comparing Clavin’s two articles on Transnationalism

As introductory materials, we were asked to read two articles by Patricia Clavin, “Defining Transnationalism” (2005) and “Time, Manner, Place: Writing Modern European History in Global, Transnational and International Contexts” (2010). In this entry, I will attempt to draw out the main arguments and in some ways chart Clavin’s development of the idea of “transnational history” (hereafter TH).

Several aspects of transnationalism is highlighted in the earlier of the two articles. First, as much as the writing of transnational history focuses on networks, connections, institutions etc., it is “first and foremost about people” (422). Simply put, TH looks at the how complex links forged by people defy accepted and fixed categories. Second, TH heralds in a new perspective of history, one that traces the “development of expertise and concepts” without necessarily relying on an “asymmetrical comparison between nation-states.” (429) Third, TH addresses a “different, and frequently larger, chronological range,” one that “[breaks] free from the nationally determined timescales.” (429) It borrows the concept of the “longue durée” from the Annales school. I think of it as basically challenging the erstwhile dominance of a “nationalist” approach to history.

But of course, the change is more nuanced than that. Whilst TH exposes the parochial nature of nationalist historiography, it sheds light on how the very transnational activities that cross and break down national boundaries may at the same time strengthen and benefit from them. TH does not offer a teleological narrative of how the world is increasingly enmeshed, but include “encounters that both attract and repel.” (423) In addition, Clavin does a fairly good job of trying to untangle the closely related concepts of “international relations”, “world history” and “global history”, though I find the differences between “world history” and TH the most difficult to make out. The argument is also made that the rise of cultural history has contributed to the writing of TH, as it seeks to “‘de-centre’ the focus of attention away from governments and diplomacy.” (437)

Moving on to the second piece, entitled “Time, Manner, Place”, Clavin identifies three key innovations/original angles provided by TH, and centres the whole discussion on how the writing of “Modern European History” is rejuvenated by such an approach. She provides more concrete examples this time. It is suggested that pinning down certain “global moments” may “open up new historical planes or vistas on Europe.” (627-8) Another alternative to nationally determined timescale is to look at “generational change” such as that which happened amongst European financial and economic advisers, adding an extra layer of complexity.

In terms of “manner”, the focus here is on how international organisations (such as International Labour Organisation and the League of Nations) provide a “basis from which to view European nations in explicitly constructed, comparative context,” (630) rather than consigning them to the dustbin of history by being preoccupied by their “failure”. I am particularly interested by how causes arising from within Europe contributed to “global debates about genocide and human rights” after WWII and the rise of a “global civil society”. (630)

Finally, TH has shone a spotlight on borderlands, frontiers and similar areas/regions, which challenges the notion of “national boundaries” and the fluidity of what may be considered “centre” and “peripheral”. TH also ushers in what is called “new economic history” that veers away from the “machine” analogy thanks to its emphasis on co-ordination, relational assets and reflexive human actors. Clavin argues that TH re-instates the importance of Europe in (world) history, primarily by bringing out its “diversity”.

Global History and its Relation to Transnational History

The relation of global history to transnational history is more complex than I first thought. An interesting point raised, that I wish to address here, is the idea that the two schools converge. Behind this is the idea that transnational history, with its focus on dynamic networks and flows, make up for the inadequacies of global history. Therefore, I think it necessary to examine the strengths and weaknesses of global history in order to highlight spaces (if they exist) in which transnational history might be preferable.

Christopher Bayly begins his contribution to the AHR Conversation on transnational history with a brief overview of the origins of global history. He states that it combined world history’s desire to move away from ethnocentric histories of Western Civilisation with the concerns of the 1990s over globalisation and its effect on historical processes. This focus on the fields of study that helped formulate global history provides an interesting insight into its nature. This is an idea furthered by Patricia Clavin who situates global history in the context of academic fields, such as subaltern studies and gender studies, that seek to destabilise the categories that we use so frequently in our analyses. Clavin suggests that global categories can be understood in the same way that Joan Wallach Scott characterises gender, as ‘culturally constructed, historically challenging, and an often unstable system of difference.’ (p.626) Thus, she states that global history is a means for historians of Europe to avoid presenting European history as neatly boxed into a single, post-enlightenment era, defined by progress and conquest. Rather, there is a need to focus on what is meant by Europe, Africa, and Asia and the effect each has had on the others.

It is interesting that Clavin makes this point about the benefits of a global history approach towards European history. Isabel Hofmeyr approaches global history from a different perspective, focusing instead on the ‘global South’. Thus, her interpretation of the benefits of global history differ greatly from the European perspective. Whereas Clavin suggests that global history is a way for historians to tease out the complexities of European history, Hofmeyr argues that there is no such benefit for the history of places outside of Europe, particularly those traditionally considered to be less developed. She states that global history is reflective of an ethnocentricity that ‘flattens the complexities of the ‘Third World’’(p.1443) as there is a tendency to present the ‘Third World’ as the victim of globalising forces from elsewhere, thus removing its political complexity. This is especially interesting as it highlights the way in which different perspectives highlight problems and contradictions within particular fields of study. When approached from a European standpoint, global history can be seen to have the positive effect of illuminating new ways of examining Europe and its place in the world. However, if we agree with Hofmeyr, in beginning a global history narrative from a ‘Third World’ perspective, the term becomes somewhat problematic.

In order to remedy this problem, Hofmeyr offers transnational history as an alternative term to global history. She states that it opens up broader possibilities, taking into account ‘complex linkages, networks, and actors in the global South’ (p.1444). This is an interesting comparison, yet I am not quite certain that it is necessary for transnational history to be in competition with global history, or presented as preferable to it. I think it is perhaps more useful to consider transnational history as an aspect of global history. Global history, according to Bayly, places an emphasis on the way in which historical processes became more global over time. This suggests to me that global history can be used as something of an umbrella term. Transnational history can add to this, for example through the potential for more detailed and specialised investigations into the movement of people, goods, or ideas across nations, such as in Jan Rüger’s micro-history of the OXO cube.

Christopher A. Bayly et al., ‘AHR Conversation: On Transnational History’, American Historical Review 111/5 (2006), 1441-1464

Clavin, Patricia, ‘Time, Manner, Place: Writing Modern European History in Global, Transnational and International Contexts’, European History Quarterly 40/4 (2010), 624-640

Rüger, Jan, ‘OXO: Or, the Challenges of Transnational History’, European History Quarterly 40, no. 4 (October 1, 2010): 656–68.

Comparative Uses of Transnational History

Patricia Clavin’s article on Global, Transnational, and International history is an adequate introduction of these approaches’ potentials and limitations in reshaping European history. She divides her article into three parts, time, manner, and place, to describe how specifically a transnational historical approach can ‘blur chronological boundaries, […] study processes and relationships, […] and explore the sites of historical enquiry in European history.’ (Clavin, 627) Throughout her article, Clavin alludes to how looking at European history through a transnational approach helps break down our established ideas of periodization and inclinations to study Europe’s history of “progress’ and ‘conquest’.’ (Clavin, 626) In looking at connections and networks of unconventional relationships and geographical locales, lesser and marginalized histories of Central and Eastern European countries arise and a ‘rich variety of new histories [emerge].’ (Clavin, 629)

 

While Clavin’s article offers a helpful explanation of the potential to see the whole of European history from an alternative vantage point through a transnational historical approach, it lacks a discussion on the contemporary discourse surrounding the sometimes-vague benefit of Transnational History in comparison to Global, World or International History. The ‘American Historical Review Conservation: On Transnational History’ is an exciting text pulling from the opinions and commentary of six historians. The conversation is vibrant and fluid in its coverage of Transnational History. While the six authors each provide their unique definitions of Transnational History, they discuss the specific innovations of studying understated connections and networks in International History from a transnational approach. Each contributor illuminates the benefits of a transnational approach to specific spheres beyond European Studies. The text exemplified how Transnational History moves away from binary narratives such as dominant and resistant, North and South, and Elite vs. Subaltern, to uncover new connections within the histories of endless topics.

 

In reading both articles, I was giving a comprehensive introduction to Transnational History, its benefits and its limitations. Clavin’s article is a successful foundational text in understanding the need for a new approach to European History, but the conversation illuminated the possibilities of Transnational History to reexamine studies beyond a European context and through unconventional methods. The comparative views of the seven historians’ thoughts on the advantages of Transnational History elucidate the necessity in using a transnational approach to reshape the history of the modern world.

Meat-Extract Case Study for Transnationalism: Overview

Jan Rüger’s article from 2010 applies the history of OXO meat extract as an example of transnational history. It acts as a brief introduction to wider discussion of cases of national engagement, stressing that transnationalism has both strengths and weaknesses. Thus this work concerns exactly what the title suggests: “Challenges to Transnational History”.
Meat extract produced from the end of the nineteenth century by the company LEMCO demonstrates the now standard manufacturing process of respectively producing, packaging and selling the same product in different countries. Invented in Germany, it was produced in Uruguay by a London-based company [p.658]. As tensions increased across Europe in the lead-up to the First World War European nations increasingly became closed to one-another, and Britain gradually came to monopolize the production of OXO, although it originally had strong Anglo-German connections. By the time of the war it had become a British national symbol. OXO meat extract thus hints at a pre-war history that has more transnational links than was experienced for a long period in the twentieth century. Consequently, the article demonstrates that, though surprising, meat extract is both an interesting and appropriate example of transnational history. However, Rüger calls the history of the OXO cube a “suitable (if minor) case-study of the benefits and challenges of transnational history.” [p. 657]. Later on, he argues that “as whimsical as it is…” OXO meat extract perfectly illustrates the point that a previously transnational Europe was divided into increasingly self-contained nations as a result of the war [p. 662]. One might ask why Rüger feels the need to downplay its significance as a case study? Although meat extract might not be the most large-scale example of transnational links in pre-war Europe, this does not diminish its consequence. The study highlights how solely national perspectives on history might be too simplistic. However, Rüger attentively argues that transnational history should compliment, rather than completely replace, national history. In fact, “the case of OXO suggests that national and transnational narratives can be brought together fruitfully in a way that cuts across disciplines” [p. 662]. Rather than expressly working against the established notion that the nation has to be the focal point for historical study, Rüger concludes effectively that one of the main challenges of transnational history “is not to overcome ‘the nation’ as the main frame of reference, but to show how it is bound up with the global/transnational/cross-national past” [p. 663].

See Jan Rüger ‘OXO: Or, the Challenges of Transnational History’, European History Quarterly 40, no.4 (October 1, 2010): pp.656-68.

Welcome back MO3351

Thank you for a great start yesterday. We ran through the practicalities, scope and rationale of the module, we had a moment of confession time on “weaknesses”, habits (good and bad and new). Also, we ran through the assessment side of the module. It is slightly different, with a number of smaller components and, do not panic, we will come back and explain in more detail throughout the semester.

In the next day or two you will receive the invite to this wordpress (site & blog) – the HEART of this module – as well as an invite to our shared google.doc and folder with additional information and in-class writing space. If any problems occur, we will get this solved in class next week Tuesday.

All should be very straight-forward, so happy reading and blogging – Monday NOON it is!

P.S. Here is the gentle reminder of our sticker time yesterday. Confession timeOur confessions to work on, ranging from “writing more drafts”, “not staring into blank space and finding focus”, “how to focus”, “better execute my beautifully planned semester – looks great on paper… but…” or “be consistent”.

On focus, well, perhaps go to #THRaSH and try noisli.com or coffitivity.com. So what is new in your routine this week? Pre-breakfast focused writing? Snack-writing at Rector’s Café for 45 mins. Surprise yourself!