The Long Project and Personal Connection in the Study of History

For the past week I have been researching, thinking and re-thinking potential subjects for my long project. Being presented with such an open project where each aspect of it has to be independently thought out makes you realise the difference between pre-honours and honours in History. No more essay questions presented neatly on a platter, and no more set bibliography. It is harder, but it is also more exciting. I have been forced to question what really interests me and, although I still don’t really have a clear answer, I have ideas.

My family has had an AGA oven since we moved to Scotland from Sweden in 2007. Although the idea of studying an oven might not sound very stimulating, the more I look into the history of the AGA then more I am fascinated by it. It is a Swedish invention by a Nobel prize winning Physicist from the 1920s that has since been increasingly connected with British identity, but is now also exported across the world. I want to track the journey of the AGA through its advertising, and examine its success through its aim to improve efficiency for women in the kitchen. The twentieth century saw an increasing preoccupation with efficiency and functionality. However, traditional design still remained important for many countries, which is probably why the AGA has been so successful in Britain at the same time as it is barely used in Sweden anymore. I think this is a really interesting subject, but I also recognise problems and limitations. I will need co-operation from museums and advertising archives when looking for source material, and will also have to try to track down people to interview about acquiring an AGA in the mid twentieth century and how it changed everyday life ( I will clarify how it did this in my project proposal).

Ultimately, I believe that his project will introduce us to a more realistic picture of what it means to be a historian. Yes, we will need to spend hours in the library to find information, but we will also need to think creatively about who to contact, and what places we might need to travel. Ultimately, studying History (and maybe in particular Transnational History) is a living activity that should also connect us to people and places, and not just confine us to solitary study.

From Project Proposal to Presentation

It is great to see the first posts on projects coming in – including the teething problems, how to decide on a topic (you see, that is what we do as academics, PhDs – the world is wide open). Nikos and I will be in class today to discuss projects, ideals, give support with problems.

From there it will be quick steps to:

Presentations - Dos & Donts
Presentations – Dos & Donts

-Project Proposal

-7mins Project Presentation 

-Unconference (more information will follow shortly)

Following on from our discussion last week on what makes a strong presentation, here is what he collected. Key for all is: it has to be a fair playing field – 7mins sharp, each. No more, no less. Sticking to the given format is simply a matter of respect (all too often ignored at conferences, workshops, or even job interviews).

Take this as free practice time. The short presentation is not assessed. That does not mean you should not practice. Quite the contrary: it needs practice beforehand. Practice what you can get in, and what NOT! You do not need to squeeze everything into 7mins. Focus on the essentials. Short is good: it helps you to focus on essentials, not on details. They can come later in your project.

And: try something new. This is deliberately not assessed. Of course we want and you want great presentations on promising projects, but do not play it safe-safe. Try something. Speak without notes for the first time ever. Make contact with your audience. Get inspiration from TEDx talks how the pros (and some not-pros) speak to an audience. Speaking of which – the audience.

We often mistake that WE (the presenter) are the main act, the centre of attention. No, we are not. The audience is the STAR. That is what “giving a paper” in the best possible way should mean. YOU give something to your audience – in return for the time given to you by the audience. Make yourself and your topic accessible. Do not bulldoze over your audience in overly detailed, jargonist prose.

Summing up: 7mins is short. Short does not mean easy. Think hard what to focus and what to leave out (for now). Make your topic accessible, relevant, enjoyable – and just enjoy, do not aim for perfection.

 

 

 

The Daunting Task of Practising Transnational History

So, this is the week transnational history starts to get a bit more daunting. Up until this point, we have spent the majority of our time reading the work of historians, trying to grasp an understanding of the approach based on what they have to offer. This has left me with a basic definition of what transnational history is and the variety of narratives it can offer. I would be lying, however, to say that I now have a firm grasp on what transnational history should be. I really don’t. At the moment, it is more a collection of ideas running through my head rather than a solid definition.
That’s the reason why this week is such a challenge. We now finally have to pin down whatever it is we wish to explore as part of our project and sell it in a proposal of fewer than 800 words. With my own views on transnational history still quite uncertain, this is proving to be fairly difficult. From the beginning of this module I have had several ideas jump out as me as possible routes to follow towards a final project. Yet, every time I think about the ways in which I could explore these ideas in a transnational context, I end up feeling a bit lost.
For example, the idea I am currently leaning towards for my project involves looking at the rise of the welfare state in Britain after the Second World War and the ways in which it was influenced by, or had influences on, other similar systems within Europe. However, this could be problematic for several reasons. My first concern is that I’m inadvertently being teleological in my approach. If I explore the ways in which the welfare state came to exist, it appears nearly impossible not to create a narrative of progression from point A to B. On the one hand I obviously want to explore the transnational exchange of ideas in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries which led to welfare reforms across Europe and beyond. However, I obviously want to avoid creating a backward facing narrative. Perhaps this is an inherent problem with this particular question, or maybe in the following week I can think of a way to make this work. As of yet, I’m not sure.
Konrad’s post about starting with sources and then working outwards from there has helped considerably with this issue, yet I still feel slightly overwhelmed whenever I think about where to start regarding sources. Of course, using primary sources to formulate ideas is refreshing to say the least. Yet, it is also incredibly daunting. Where do I find the sources I need? Are they going to be reliable? These are both questions I am going to have to take very seriously in the next few weeks, as are questions of scale – do I want to create a macro-history or a micro-history? Which will be of greater benefit to my narrative? If I do want to go down the micro-historical route, will I be able to find enough source material to do so?
For the rest of this week, as I try to create an exciting project proposal, these are questions I will try and get to grips with. Perhaps in next week’s blog post I will be able to share some of my conclusions with you. For now, however, I still definitely have more questions than answers.

Michael McGerr’s Article and How to Write Transnational History

While many of my colleges I’m sure will be writing on how and what their projects are beginning to look like I felt it only right as I had yet to post about prior reading to begin my blogging with an examination of an article suggested to us a few weeks back. I felt this particular article relevant as we approach the beginnings of our projects as it’s an interesting example of how an author approached writing about transnational history and why as a reader I did not believe his argument. Even more than that by the end of the article I didn’t feel he had spent enough time examining the topic for him to even be writing on it.

Lets go back to two weeks ago when several others on this page commented about the writing of Ian Tyrrell from his book Transnational Nation. United States History in Global Perspective sine 1789. Though I was not one of those who wrote in response to that reading it was non the less fascinating and well worth a read, though I doubt historian Michael McGerr would agree. McGerr’s article meant to focus on examining the differing genre, relevance, and nuance of the idea of Transnationalism being brought to the field of historiography quickly becomes an extensive and  harsh critique on the work written by the historian Ian Tyrrell. McGerr focusing on Tyrell’s article “American Exceptionalism in an Age of International History” explains that in order to accept the history that Tyrell is writing about Tyrell asks that one de-emphasize the American distinctiveness in order to focus on the transnational history of the country. This term exceptionalism then becomes the main line of argument for McGerr throughout the remainder of his article.

His argument being that, “Tyrrell’s determination to fight exceptionalism, American distinctiveness, comparative studies, and nation-centered history prevents him from exploring more fully the potential of an internationalized history”. While some of his argument may to some extent have weight McGerr takes this idea to far by firstly emphasizing that without the nation the area of study of transnationalism is not relevant. This would not be a terrible argument to make since historians are still trying to define this term but McGerr gives no definition of what he believes transnational history to even be. Secondly, though he does not denounce the historical area of study he terms new – transnationalism- he does speak of it in such a way as to suggest that it has very little significance, in comparison to environmental history, social history, international connections and global history, within the larger field of study. And on top of this there is a lack of definition and obvious distain for the term transnationalism that cause the ideas presented in an essay whose writing is within itself frustrating and hard to follow to lose relevance. It’s set in a stream of consciousness like manner, jumping from one idea to the next with little to no cohesion, and continuously reiterating terms and phrases, sometimes unnecessarily. Here then is the questions that McGerr with his frustrating writing prose prompts us to ask ourselves: How when approaching an area of study that is so difficult to grasp such as transnationalism should we think about writing so that a relevant argument does not get lost?

In response I’d begin by returning to our evaluation of McGerr’s article and try to answer for him how one might define transnationalism. I’d say I define transnational history as not solely focusing on the crisscross between nations or on the internationalization of society but as an umbrella term. It incorporates social, economic, environmental, Micro and Macro, and many more areas and approaches to history in order to understand at large the cross cultural, cross social, cross economic, and cross national global history of this earth. And since McGerr never gives us a definition I as the reader give the term transnationalism within this article my definition. Therefore when McGerr states that “transnational history has difficulty coexisting with the traditional national histories” it becomes apparent to me that he does not grasp even slightly what transnational history is.

So in response to the above question I’d say that you have understand for yourself what the terms your using mean. Because even with a solid argument if the reader doesn’t understand how that argument fits into the terms your using then they’re lost. And even more than that your argument may just fall apart because of it.

McGerr, Michael. “The Price of the ‘New Transnational History.’” The American Historical Review 96, no. 4 (October 1991): 1056-67.

Hiccups in My Project Proposal

I’ve been doing research into my potential project, and I’ve been encountering quite a few issues which I am anxious to address. If anyone has any advice for me on how to proceed, I would  be exceedingly grateful. I am proposing to study how syncretic religion and transnational identities were formed and have continued to develop in the Caribbean. I think I’ll be focusing on Santería, Rastafarianism, and potentially Palo; there are subgroups within these faiths that I will address, but these are the three that I think best represent the intersection of indigenous beliefs, European Christianizing influence, and West African culture.

Firstly, I am concerned about my own personal bias in entering into this research project. I am a Christian-raised, middle-class Anglo-Saxon who has never been to the areas of the world I will be researching. I was raised in the Judeo-Christian culture of the United States, which is relatively intolerant of non-Abrahamic belief systems. Thus, I am hoping that I can avoid either exotifying these faiths or treating them as ‘cults’ or fringe groups. I hope that I can be properly objective in treating these faiths, without the interference of socialized normalizations regarding belief.

Second, I wonder about the legitimacy of the sources we have for these groups. No writing culture existed in the Caribbean islands before European invasion and colonization, so most of the primary sources that survive from the first decades of these interactions are from the perspective of invading peoples. Recording the oral traditions of these cultures has been notoriously tricky, and it leaves an enormous gap in the historical understanding of the roots of these phenomena. I do not want to misrepresent the experiences of these people, since it is their personal experiences that form the transnational phenomena I’m attempting to study.

With all of that in mind, I am leery as to my ability to objectively undertake this project. Again, if anyone has any suggestions as to how I ought to proceed, I would appreciate it so very much!

Current Readings:

Edmonds, Ennis B. and Michelle A. Gonzalez, Caribbean Religious History: An Introduction (New York, 2010).

Gossai, Hemchand and Nathaniel Samuel Murrell (eds), Religion, Culture and Tradition in the Caribbean (Basingstoke, 2000).

Pulis, John W. (ed.), Religion, Diaspora, and Cultural Identity: a Reader in the Anglophone Caribbean (Amsterdam, 1999).

Taylor, Patrick (ed.), Nation Dance: Religion, Identity, and Cultural Difference in the Caribbean (Bloomington, 2001).

How to Pick a Research Project

Without any assigned readings for this week, and the ‘uncomference’ looming, I felt that my blog posting should reflect my journey towards picking a project proposal. This has been a difficult task for me, and I’ve often jumped from idea to idea, sometimes within days of changing. With a joint degree of history and geography, I knew my project would always in some way end up reflecting both of these interests. However, when studying further what a transnational perspective is, I felt the task could encompass anything and everything and still reflect both of my interests. For me, they fit together so easily, and a transnational perspective of history, has, in my eyes, exposed how entwined these two disciplines actually are.

To begin with, I know my progress reflected everything that Konrad Lawson, in his blog posting ‘Ideas to Sources or Sources from Ideas’, stated was standard for a student to do: “to begin with the big topic, the idea, or a potential argument and then they set off to find the sources”[1]. For me, my first idea of inspiration came from Geography. After completing a module in my second year of university which looked at Edward Said and Michel Foucault and how these ideas are still very apparent in today’s society, I knew I was interested in the themes of Power and ‘Us and Them’.  Within the geography module, we had focused upon more modern day events such as the 9/11 attacks, the ‘War on Terror’ and Boko Harem. Said’s ideas, as seen within ‘Orientalism’, are very apparent in a lot of historical events and very much concern global connections. Often these global connections are a country pushing power over another so in that respect, thinking about the ideas of power relations, it was still difficult to pin point an event/place/time period that I wanted to start my research.

With an idea in my head that I wanted to look at global politics, I looked further into what I am also interested in. I knew that I was also fascinated with the media and the influence that the media holds. So often it is the media that reflects societal feelings or pushes society to think a certain way. However, this is not simply a modern day phenomenon that has occurred with our dependency on Social Media and being constantly connected via mobile phones. Tracking the rise of the daily newspapers during the nineteenth century, especially from a British stand point, highlights the influence and power that these papers held in regards to how society developed.

Both of these ideas made me want to research further into British colonial expansion, the knowledge produced from the exploration, and how this was portrayed to society back in Britain. However, I still only had a very broad idea of what my project would concern. Yet, as often happens, conducting further research, and with a historical geography lecture ringing in my head, I suddenly became interested in the idea of exploring. And more importantly, the importance of the map as a tool to exploration. The idea that Christopher Columbus only found the Americas because of an inaccurate map, or that the British Imperial map was also a tool to emphasise it’s world standing, attracted me enough to head to the library for some books.

From here, and maybe because I had just read Konrad’s posting, I, instead of focusing on reading around the subject of the map, began to look at the map’s themselves to see the changes over time, starting way back with Strabo’s Geography and looking towards Google Maps of today, to understand what the map reflects about society of the time and how countries became connected outside of the national boundaries.

Whether there is a correct approach in how to choose a research project or not, both approaches that were highlighted with Konrad’s article, have their positives and negatives. To some degree, I’ve tested them both, and still even I do not have the answer to how someone should go about picking a topic for their research.

[1] http://transnationalhistory.net/doing/2016/02/14/ideas-to-sources-or-ideas-from-sources/ (21/02/16)

Practicing Microhistory

As the debate between Microhistory and Global History is raised this week, I would like to focus on Struck, Ferris and Revel’s article, ‘Introduction: Space and Scale in Transnational History’ as the foundation for contemplating scale in history, then look to Tonio Andrade’s case study, ‘A Chinese Farmer, Two African Boys and a Warlord: Toward a Global Microhistory’ to asses whether or not micro perspectives help or hinder our research in creating a global/transnational history.

The introduction article was extremely helpful in pinning down the definition of Transnational History and elaborating further on the aspects that surround this method/perspective/approach (still being debated). The article explained reasoning behind the growing trend towards a transnational approach and methodological issues that have surfaced since. The article states the importance of the nation has diminished in understanding history and thus the new question of what scale to focus on becomes apparent. As a new transnational approach is being used and explored, its undefined perimeters have left the scale and space of historical study up for debate. Where should we find a balance between global, national and local histories that adequately incorporates each tier to give the overall best analysis of a subject? The writers concluded the article by arguing the need for a ‘micro-process perspective […] in order to facilitate macro scale understanding’. The fluctuation of scale will continue, but for now, perhaps we take a serious look at a micro perspective of history to help us building a larger understanding.

As we take the questions posed in the introduction article we can look to Andrade’s case study surrounding a Chinese Farmer and war in 17th century Taiwan as a unique micro history of an individual’s experience in an intercultural situation. Throughout Andrade’s article, the advantages and disadvantages a micro perspective are illuminated. Andrade is an overwhelming advocate for studying ‘the human dramas that make history come alive.’ (574) In looking at archives, diaries, and personal accounts, the situations and events the protagonist encounters surface to represent hidden multinational connections. As Sait’s story unfolds, we continuously draw links between Chinese, Dutch, African, Portuguese, Indian and many more. The story represents the potential of understanding transnational connections through micro histories. When we look at the Andrade article it gives us a chance to really divulge in any individual perspective and use it as a starting place to look closer at history and hidden transnational connections. But also it leaves us with all of these questions concerning micro histories. Where do we start? What or do any perspectives take precedent? How do these smaller histories connect into one large history, as there still seems to be potential for disconnects? While these local and individual accounts allow us to look under the microscope of history and focus on truly uncovered knowledge, it almost offers too many options to create a solid method of study.

I am still unconvinced at how a solely micro approach is the most beneficial way to understanding parts of a whole, but one part of Andrade’s argument did successfully justify the need for spatial diversity. Andrade urges historians to ‘experiment with stories of individual lives in global contexts.’ (574) This idea of experimentation with different scales, stories, and documents is the key to Transnational History I’ve found so far. As the introductory article suggests, ‘transnational history is not a strict method’. Its beauty is in its abstract and undefined perimeters dedicated to finding connections and links between people, places and things. We must, as historians, continue to experiment with different scales and spaces, periods and narratives, to possibly find new these multicultural/multinational connections in our shared global history.

Toni Andrade’s Article: The Good and the Bad of Microhistory

Tonio Andrade’s Microhistory of the Siege of Fort Zeelandia is an excellent article in highlighting both the benefits and the pitfalls of micro history. Although Andrade begins his study with a rejection of the importance of the episode he pieces together, I found the article to be illuminating about some of the key factors at play in the exchange between the Dutch and Chinese in Taiwan. He claims that that the death of Sait is “insignificant in the sweep of global history”, that “there’s no prodding historiographical need to piece together his story” and that the only reason to write his article is to redress the balance as “we’ve tended to neglect the human dramas that make history come alive.” I feel strongly that this implies that this history is not as useful as others, that it belongs in a realm of histories that are fun to read but do not contribute a great deal to historical understanding. Towards the end of the article, Andrade again seems to reduce the historical significance of this article, with a lament about “the other lives that left no trace,” which I also feel takes away from what is a really interesting and useful article, not because his aim of restoring human agency to history is a bad one, but because it is far more useful than simply reminding readers that these people existed.

The article brings together and illustrates some key factors behind the Dutch loss of Taiwan to Koxinga, especially with regards to espionage during a siege. It reveals the different attitudes taken by the two sides towards collaborators, and that the Dutch could have won if they had trusted the Taiwanese natives more. In the disagreements between Cauw and Coyet we also see the problem of disagreements between the Dutch commanders, and how this might have affected the treatment of Chinese collaborators. Along with the gruesome accounts of Koxinga’s treatment of Dutch soldiers, we find out that the Dutch tortured prisoners, and that this resulted in them receiving false information. Furthermore, from a transnational perspective we gain a fascinating insight into the importance of African slaves in the conflict. Overall then we can divulge a great level of detail about an entire conflict from this relatively short article informing us about the story of a Chinese farmer.

There are however obvious drawbacks to the micro historical approach evidenced in this article. The ambiguity over the end of the life of Sait makes understanding what happened fully impossible. The array of different possibilities over whether he was spying for the Dutch or if he was spying for the Chinese, whether he killed himself or was killed by the Dutch, will never be solved. Andrade describes Sait as “the hero” of the article, but this only highlights the extent to which he leans on Braudel’s insistence on the importance of imagination to the historian: Sait could just as easily be painted as a villain based on the evidence presented in the article, and Andrade seems confused himself when in one paragraph claiming “It seems likely that he really was a double agent at the end,” and in the next “There’s no way to know whether Sait was a double agent.” The amount of questions that remain, and the amount of ‘maybe’s’ posed as possible explanations for the death of Sait show how a lack of evidence can be problematic for a micro historical approach.

In conclusion I would reiterate that I actually really liked this article, but found aspects of it frustrating. Overall it is useful for understanding both the conflict between the Dutch and the Chinese warlord Koxinga, and the change this caused in the relations between the Dutch and the Taiwanese people who they had got along with for so long. From our transnational perspective it highlights the usefulness of micro history in finding transnational connections, but also the limitations of evidence when looking at history on a micro level.

 

Tonio Andrade, ‘A Chinese Farmer, Two African Boys and a Warlord: Toward a Global Microhistory, Journal of World History, Vol.21, No.4 (December 2010)

Scale in Micro History and Global History

I’ll admit that one of the issues I have been having in attempting to envisage global and transnational history and what they might entail is the potential scope of the subjects. At times, it seems that there are so many subjects with numerous possible transnational connections that it is difficult (and quite daunting) to identify what they are and what might be important. Thus, I feel that a micro-historical approach is useful as an entry point into doing global and transnational history. One of the benefits of microhistory, as illustrated by Andrade is that it brings theory into actuality through putting a human focus on cross-cultural connections. Through focusing on an individual, it is possible to see links that would have been overlooked by a history of broader processes such as the role played by actors who are individually insignificant yet they illustrate global connections. This also provides a more intimate view of history which illustrates how human lives were affected by global networks and disruptions such as trade and conflicts. Braudel identifies the most important aspect of doing history to be imagination and this method certainly does capture it. It is impossible not to feel some level of emotional response to the plight of the Chinese farmer stuck between two warring nations in Taiwan. However, surely the narrative aspect of this kind of history is in danger of falling too far into imagination. It is possible, when starting with a subject so small to create connections that are tenuous at best. A similar criticism is levelled at Carlo Ginzburg’s influential The Cheese and The Worms. In line with his conception of microhistory, Ginzburg suggests that the exceptional cosmological beliefs of an Italian peasant are indicative of the existence of a broader sub-stratum of peasant beliefs that remained hidden from official culture. However it has been suggested that this is something of a stretch as no evidence of this belief system exists elsewhere. Surely this problem becomes greater when the processes being illuminated are on a much more global scale and the various factors to contend with are more complex.

Another criticism levelled at microhistory is that it is an approach that neglects broader contexts, suggesting that it is incompatible with transnational history which must consider the contexts of the nations involved and how they shape the connections between them. Can be seen that microhistory does not ignore these broader contexts, it simply explores what it is to be an individual actor within them – which is surely a worthwhile effort.

Similarly, a micro historical approach allows historians to examine the broader contexts of events that have previously been explained on a local level. The Singapore mutiny is a prime example of this as a focus on this singular event, which the author admits was of little global significance in 1915, means that the causes of the mutiny can be traced through connections which reveal a much more global image that the traditional characterisation of local disruptions. This additional transnational aspect gives this event new importance in the history of Indian independence and colonial resistance

However, a micro historical approach does not just illuminate new transnational aspects of histories traditional explained at a local level. It also provides the opportunity to explore different levels of transnational exchanges within the same community. Again, this is significant in areas which have a colonial past as narrowing the scope of enquiry allows us to see divergences from the accepted narratives of colonial relations. In changing the scale of study I am reminded of Karen Hughes’ study of indigenous Australian women around Lake Alexandrina and their relations with settler-born women in the same area. The legislation that made Australia an independent nation in 1905 characterises Australia as being founded in the image of a European state. This transplantation of European culture shaped the nation through its implementation of laws which stopped the immigration of ‘non-whites’ from countries with previous migrant links, and gave preference to the European settlers, suggesting that there was no longer any cultural exchange occurring. However, in narrowing the focus to the lives of women in a particular area, Hughes discovered that networks of cross-cultural exchange existed below the official level through the interactions of settler-born women and indigenous women, showing that Australia was not simply a product of its European heritage, rather it was shaped by a process of cultural negotiation.

Heather Streets-Salter, The Local Was Global:
The Singapore Mutiny of 1915, Journal of World History 24 (2013).

Andrade, Tonio, ‘A Chinese Farmer, Two African Boys, and a Warlord: Toward a Global Microhistory’,Journal of World History 21, 4 (2010), pp. 573-591.

Carlo Ginzburg, The Cheese and The Worms: The cosmos of a sixteenth century miller, translated by John Tedeschi, Anne Tedeschi, John Hopkins University Press, 1976

Dominick La Capra, History and Criticism, Cornell University Press, 1987

Karen Hughes, Opening Spaces of Possibility in Ngarrindjeri Country: micro-histories and things that matter, Australian Feminist Studies, Volume 27, Issue 73, 2002

 

From Italian miller to Singapore mutiny: an attempt at differentiating Microhistory and Transnational History

After all, what is of essence here in a discussion of microhistory, transnational history and global history is the matter of scale. A change of scale brings in a change of perspective, which results in new questions and the development of new modes of narrative, explanation, analysis – that is, a new methodology.

New methodologies bring with them their problems as well, and also new questions that demand satisfactory answers. Microhistory and transnational history overlap in their concerns with “micro-process perspective” and “individuals or the local” which will aid understanding on the macro-scale. (“Introduction”, B. Struck et. al.) Yet, this necessarily entails a need to bridge the “broad range from local and individual to global,” and to choose carefully the “units of analysis”.

A good way to start thinking about these issues is to look at ways that the practise of microhistory and transnational history differs – here I shall refer to Carlo Ginzburg’s The Cheese and the Worms and Heather Streets-Salter’s discussion of the Singapore Mutiny in 1915. It will be difficult (and perhaps inaccurate) to say in a clear-cut way, that microhistory is methodological, whereas transnational history is a perspective – ultimately because both kinds of historical writings demonstrate methodological innovation and a change of perspective. But my first attempt at differentiation is to posit that microhistory is indebted to cultural history, whilst transnational history emerges out of the study of international politics.

Ginzburg’s cross-section of 16th century Italy centres on the figure of a miller commonly known as Menocchio. What Ginzburg is refuting here is that the relationship between the dominant (I’m thinking priests, landlords etc.) and subordinating classes (peasants) is unilateral, of a top-down kind. Ginzburg shows in his book that Menocchio was also influenced by the peasant oral tradition. What is being dealt with here is how ideas transmit, and in particular, how someone belonging to the otherwise faceless group of the “peasantry” is not only open to influences from both highbrow and lowbrow, but also mixes them together in such an explosive way that authorities had to deem him as a heretic and be sent to being burnt at the stake. The important discovery here, with recourse to an “exceptional case”, is that the story of an elite culture dominating an agricultural society has its surprising twists and anomalies. That is to say that the dominance of elite culture is not absolute, the nature of the elite-peasant relationship is more fluid and porous than it used to be portrayed, and there might have been a radical peasant culture that had existed autonomously.

Now consider Streets-Salter’s history of the Singapore Mutiny. It has less to do with challenging assumptions related to cultural transmission than to suggest that framing the event in the context of Singaporean national history/Indian nationalist movement is painfully circumscribed. It deals here with the political intercolonial and global connections and ideologies that informed and influenced the actions of individuals involved in the mutiny. The author is arguing for its significance to regional, imperial and world history alongside other political events which happened in the same year but have been accorded more importance.

I liked what Ginzburg said about the distinguishing feature of historical study being “its concrete nature” and “attention to specific or singular phenomena”. Practitioners of both microhistory and transnational history would very likely agree to that. If the umbrella term is “historical micro”, and its contribution lies with providing “new ways of describing and analysing” micro-macro links (as Matti Peltonen cogently argues), then microhistory and transnational history each represent an original way to conceptualise the linkage.

The “Introduction” piece (by B. Struck et. al.) provides another useful angle on this, using the metaphor of the “pendulum swing”. From “large-scale questions and analysis in classic social history in 1960s and 80s to small-scale analysis in cultural history during the 80s and 90s,” we go back to the preference for “large-scale questions related to globalisation, global, world and transnational history.” My analysis above has largely focused on microhistory as a cultural history and transnational history as a political history, but here we can see that another differentiating aspect has to do with the scale.

The size of the historical lens: Singapore 1915

The 1915 Singapore mutiny is a well-documented event that has somehow escaped the attention of most historians: an issue which Heather Streets-Salter attempts to rectify in an article discussing the global implications of this local event. Divided into two parts, Streets-Salter details both the Causes and Responses that were mostly left out of official accounts.
On the 15th of February in 1915, 850 soldiers in the 5th Light Infantry, consisting of Indians brought to Singapore by the British, mutinied against the authorities in Singapore. The uprising was suppressed after two days, and 203 sepoys from the 5th infantry were tried in court leading to several executions, transportations and prison sentences [p.540]. Although it was a well documented event at the time in order for the British to understand the reasons for the mutiny, it has barely been studied since there were other big events in 1915 such as Germany’s declaration of a submarine blockade on Britain. What is interesting about this case is that British authorities quickly provided a public version of events that was very different from the case presented in court. Whereas officials publically dismissed the mutiny as little more than a suppressed riot, evidence demonstrates extensive involvement of several different countries to control what must have been perceived as a real threat to British control in Singapore. P.547 The official version has, however, affected later interpretations, thus highlighting the issue of representation in history as well as by historians.
Streets-Salter also brings attention to the issue of global influences that led to the mutiny, as well as the global response in suppressing it. The Indian men of the 5th regiment were free to move around Singapore when not on duty, and were likely exposed to contact with Ghadar (mutiny) Indian activists who were campaigning for the end of the British Raj in India. This, alongside general anti-British sentiment, led to action, and the mutiny can thus not be dismissed merely as a local event. Moreover, when news of the unrest spread, armed help came from several other nations before the British forces themselves arrived. In this case, a number of consuls of different nationalities stepped in to suppress the unrest, one of the most proactive being the Japanese consul who organised raising forces to patrol the roads leading into the city, stressing the importance of considering the role of consuls in the history of empire [p.565]. In fact, the significance of France, Russia and Japan offering assistance in this matter is a direct example of the recently developed global alliances in the lead up to the war [p. 567]. Each force that had helped was recognised by the Singapore authorities and awarded with a parade before they left the island. However, the very fact that the authorities stopped the news of the mutiny spreading indicates that rather than being a small scale local riot it was, in fact, a significant event with both global influences and consequences [p. 575].
This is only one case study, but Streets-Salter argues her points well: the local can, and should, sometimes be considered on a global scale. Official accounts can hide the truth almost better than they tell it. Ultimately, “in many ways it is a question of the size of the historical lens” [p.544].

Heather Streets-Salter, The Local Was Global:
The Singapore Mutiny of 1915, Journal of World History 24 (2013).

Micro History and the Dangers of Extrapolating Trends

As much as I always enjoy micro histories, with regards to transnational histories, I have had some hesitations regarding the compatibility of these two historical perspectives. I worry that to apply transnational perspectives to local people and events puts the historian at risk for jumping the gun, as it were; I fear it is perhaps too easy to analyze the experience of one person or people or place and to proceed to extrapolate that reality into a trend across other similar phenomena. For example, we would never accept the supposition that because 13th century Italian women ate off of special plates after giving birth this was a piece medieval birthing rituals across all of Europe. However, that is the precise danger of looking at the micro through a macro lens; conclusions must necessarily err on the side of micro significance or risk a loss of accuracy. However, the readings for this week allayed most of my misgivings about this process.

I loved Tonio Andrade’s article; I could read him for days. His writing is much more poetic and artistic than most of the authors that we’ve read; the beautiful narrative paints a vivid picture of the texture and reality of the Chinese farmer’s life, much more akin to short story fiction than the primarily technical and theoretical articles we have been studying thus far. Through the retelling of Sait’s experiences, his ‘short encounter with history’, the reader’s understanding of the conflict between the Dutch and the Chinese becomes highly personalized (p. 590). When he dies, the reader feels the loss, and as Andrade offers possible explanations, a comparison of both the Dutch and Koxinga’s forces reveals the similarities in their methods to a frustrated audience: suspicion, hastiness, and willingness to turn on their own allies. Andrade uses Sait’s experience as a prism through which to view the behavior and tactics of both sides of the conflict, a single life reflecting the complexities of a much larger war. I personally believe that this personalization is a great strength of histories of this kind, but others disagree; if one prizes objectivism over emotional engagement, then one would probably see Andrade’s writing as needlessly artistic and insufficiently analytical.

His question of ‘How does one write on the scale of individuals from a global perspective?’ is delightfully provocative, and it is one that I feel will be pertinent to my personal project this semester (p. 574).  I think that the idea of the individual as an intersection of multiple transnational influences is the best method of analyzing micro histories in transnational contexts, as Andrade does with his ‘individual lives in global contexts’ (p. 274). Clavin discussed a similar approach in her example of Julius Bonn in ‘Defining Transnationalism’. Struck, Ferris and Revel’s article deals more with the ‘transmicro’ methodology, and the application of certain perspectives and techniques to these smaller tales. I feel that this will be of particular use to me, as I hope to do my research this semester on religious syncretism and identity in the Caribbean islands during the 19th and 20th centuries. Examining a single life in an effort to understand how international influences melded together would be highly effective in proving the significance of religion to these oppressed peoples, and I think this might well be the approach I choose to take. However, I would certainly hope that my classmates and tutors will be willing to critique my work, and brutally, as I do not want to fall into the trap of extrapolation outlined above.

 

Andrade, Tonio, ‘A Chinese Farmer, Two African Boys, and a Warlord: Toward a Global Microhistory’, Journal of World History 21, 4 (2010), pp. 573-591.

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

Struck, Bernhard, Kate Ferris & Jacques Revel, ‘Introduction: Space and Scale in Transnational History’, The International History Review, 33:4 (2011), pp. 573-584.

The Importance of Scale

When studying history, it is common to think in terms of time; when an event happened and the events that preceded and succeeded it. But to throw in the idea of scale can allow a certain event to be viewed differently. Scale creates a different perspective that is often not thought about when it comes to a chronological national history. By breaking things down, into smaller pieces, a larger connection can become apparent.

This is an idea that is linked to that of microhistory, and the notion of focusing on a singular event that is out of place to draw conclusions about the larger theme of events. Microhistory was initially used as an overall label for a set of historical studies with the main characteristic of these studies being the “method of clues”.[1] This is an aspect of microhistory that was advocated by Carlo Ginzburg and Giovanni Levi in which the historians find something that does not fit, a ‘clue’, that therefore needs to be explained and begin an investigation from there. The ‘clue’ is something that seems odd, out of place, and in some cases discontinuous from its environment and it is only from studying this ‘clue’ that connections are revealed, to create a continuity and flow between events.[2] Microhistory reveals a need for scale to be classed as important as it is only through the breakdown of themes into smaller scales, a case study of various events so to speak, that connections between these can be formed, a connection that may have been lost by only viewing the larger picture of the nation state.

For transnational history, the idea of scale can also be seen as important to understanding events and larger themes. In particular, social processes, and how they overlap, cannot be comprehended within boundaries of the likes of states, nations, empires and regions. To really grasp the importance of interaction and the circulation of ideas, peoples, institutions or technologies across state or national boundaries, it is the circulation that needs to be studied and not the various nations themselves.[3] Often it is only by doing this that interactions between the people themselves can be highlighted, which can give a different perspective to a particular time period than the study of the nation state itself would have highlighted. It can be seen that the nation state is no longer the only perspective to take when analysing history and that historians are branching out to look for alternative narratives.

Changing the perspective that is used to analyse history creates a change of scale which in turn allows for new questions to arise and with that new explanations for the connection of events. This links to microhistory and the idea of studying the small scale to get a better understanding of the bigger picture and how everything is interconnected. A transnational and microhistorical perspective, to look to the smaller scale and to break events down, allows people, events, objects to become interconnected in a way that can get lost when simply analysing the history of a nation state.

[1] Peltonen, Matti, ‘Clues, Margins, and Monads: The Micro-Macro Link in Historical Research’, History and Theory, 40(3) 2001, p.349

[2] Ibid., p.357

[3] Struck, Bernhard, Kate Ferris, Jacques Revel, ‘Introduction. Space and Scale in Transnational History’, in International History Review Dec 2011 33.4 p.574

Micro & Macro

In his article praising the uses of micro-history, Tonio Andrade hits the nail on the head by stating that imagination is the most important tool of the historian. Micro-history, with its up close and personal approach, feeds into the imagination in a way I don’t believe macro-history can replicate. Looking back, when I first remember history being my favourite subject at school, it was the little everyday details of the past which grabbed my imagination and ran away with it. More than ten years on, as an undergraduate history student, the feeling remains the same. Obviously, as time has gone on, the importance of macro-historical questions and narratives has become much clearer to me. They are obviously crucial to the study of history. However, just like Andrade, I think finding the right balance between different scales of historical narratives is vital. His story of the Chinese fisherman in Taiwan brought to life the stories of people I had honestly never even considered before. If told from a macro-historical perspective, this is an area of history I probably, unfortunately, would skip past in favour of something else. Yet, after this article alone, I actually found myself curious about this point in history. That, to me, is the most important aspect of micro-history. It drops you immediately in the thick of it, and leaves you feeling very strongly about the people and events you encounter. Yes, most of the big questions in history need macro-history to be explored, but . Micro-history seems to be the most efficient way of sparking interest in previously unexplored topics, which in turn opens doors to completely new areas of historical enquiry.

Ideas to Sources or Ideas from Sources?

It isn’t unusual for a historian to look out onto the landscape of historiography on a particular issue and get the feeling that something is amiss. This can be the spark that sends them into the archives (or their existing notes from materials) and the start of a new research project. Or, they notice an unusual gap and—and this is important—believe that this gap hides something important and telling, and then embark on a study of it. These are perfectly normal ways into a new topic. I often see students make an equivalent move, a move that I did many times myself as a student: they begin with the big topic, the idea, or a potential argument and they then set off to find the sources that will determine if the idea or argument holds. If it doesn’t then you modify your idea accordingly.

However, students face one disadvantage in particular when they take this approach: they are often more restricted in the kinds of sources they can consult. This is sometimes due to the limits of their language abilities, or the limits of the resources of their libraries and its databases. And of course, in most circumstances, a student will not have the time or resources to travel to archives and spend time there.

This being the case, I often recommend that students begin with an alternative approach: to begin with interesting primary sources and explore them, keeping one’s eye open for what one finds unusual and out of place, or patterns that one finds revealing. Making a list of such things can become a list of candidates for a class essay or project (in cases when you are determining the topic one ones own). This approach, an “ideas from sources” as opposed to a “from ideas to sources” approach requires a significant up-front investment of time – time for browsing and for exploring through a haystack when one isn’t yet even looking for any particular needle, as the cliché goes. However, this can often pay out wonderful rewards, including less stress and less last-minute investment of time as one struggles to find evidence to support a particular argument.

In my modules on East and Southeast Asia, I include a list of primary sources that we have access to here at St Andrews, or on the open web. There are, of course, many more for those interested in other parts of the world, but they may give you an idea of how much is already at your fingertips: Primary Sources on East and Southeast Asia.