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!

 

 

Conference Presentations: Afterthoughts

In response to the presentations on Tuesday (all of which were centered around fascinating topics, I might add), I just wanted to post my thoughts about a few ideas that stuck out in my mind.

I was very taken by Harriet’s approach of separately identifying and analyzing the local, regional, national, and global with regards to her project about the Documenta exhibitions. In reading for this module all semester, I have never come across someone who has separated these different levels with such clarity, and particularly the use of a visual aid helped draw these divisions in my head. Transnational history, as the name suggests, mostly focuses on the “links and flows” (to borrow a phrase from Saunier and Iriye) across borders, i.e., movement at international level, and so one could very easily become caught up with the ‘big picture’ developments. But it is crucial to remember that while developments take place on the global or transnational level, there is actively happening simultaneously at the national, regional, and local levels, and thus this activity should still be taken into consideration.

Many times, the phenomenon being examined at the international level would not make sense without reference to the other levels: to take an example from Andrew’s project, the transnational occurrence of bootlegging across the Detroit River would not make sense without considering both the US national law of Prohibition as well as the demand for alcohol in Detroit specifically (the local level) that persisted after the law went into effect. Sophie’s project examining British education reforms in India also requires an examination of the developments both at the local and international levels as well: one cannot understand how effective the reforms of Macaulay and co. were without examining the individual schools in India that took on their proposed changes.

We all will most likely have to consider the circumstances of the different levels directly or indirectly during our projects, but I was pleased that Harriet had dealt with them so directly, as it has given me a greater awareness and understanding of them. As a result, I hope that I now possess a stronger ability to locate and place incidents or trends into either the local, regional, national, and international levels, and that I can use this in putting together my own project in the coming month.

I hope that we will continue to use the blog and converse with each other about our projects in the coming months, as I‘ve certainly benefitted from many ideas such as this latest one that I’ve gotten from the rest of y’all. To borrow the words of Lux and Cook quoting the father of Edmund Verney, it is useful ‘to study men as well as books.’ We learn as much from discussing topics with each other as we do from our readings, and I hope that we will not lose this source of interaction in the next month. I will certainly continue to post updates on the blog of my project, and I hope to read some of yours as well.

 

References:

Akira Iriye and Pierre-Yves Saunier, The Palgrave Dictionary of Transnational History (Basingstoke, 2009). Print.

David S. Lux and Harold J. Cook, ‘Closed Circles or Open Networks? Communicating at a distance during the scientific revolution’, History of Science 36 (1998): 186.

Project Problems: Structure, Sources and the Transnational Context

The current challenge I’m facing in writing my project is deciding upon a structure that keeps the transnational element at the centre. The essential purpose of my project is to uncover the transnational connections between Belfast and Glasgow through the example of the connections between the two Celtic football clubs in each city – not to merely present an interesting history of the two clubs. The problem, therefore, is making sure my argument is structured such – and my sources used as such – that the transnational dimension remains central throughout, in a coherent structure, rather than being relegated to the peripheries.

 

The sources that I have encountered so far can generally be divided into several categories. Firstly, there are general secondary histories of Belfast and Glasgow Celtic that often provide quite detailed accounts of the clubs’ histories that are often placed in a wider social and political context. Secondly, there are more specific primary sources that include the first hand accounts of fans of both clubs at the time, and contemporary newspaper reports – many of which are archived by the Belfast Celtic Society. Thirdly, there is the wider body of transnational Irish history, which as far as my own rudimentary research suggests, is beginning to flourish. The ‘Transnational Ireland international network’ is a group of academics from a variety of universities worldwide that share an interest in Irish transnational history. While none of the articles listed on their website’s bibliography directly discuss the sort of Scots-Irish links in the particular period and context of my project, they do often touch on similar issues regarding migration and cultural transfer across the Irish Sea – providing vital context and background for my own study amongst the wider body of Irish transnational historiography.

 

The questioned I’m posed, then, is how do I marry all of these sources into a coherent structure that keeps the transnational question at the fore? In my project proposal I set out the intention to arrange my argument around three areas – sectarianism, cultural identity and individual actors. However, as Harriet suggested in a previous blog post, it may be beneficial to narrow down the scope of my argument. Indeed, upon reflection, the third category of individual actors may be superfluous – analysis of individual actors will likely be common to the previous two sections. Moreover, with the areas of ‘sectarianism’ and ‘cultural identity’ isolated, we may begin to see them two as sides of the same coin. Another potential way of structuring my project then would be to study on the one hand, the ‘positive’ shared identity and on the other the ‘negative’ shared identity manifested through sectarianism. This may allow me to focus on a narrow spectrum of events, mainly the riots between Rangers and Celtic in Glasgow that were mirrored in Belfast with Celtic and Linfield. This would allow me to initially focus on primary sources, before stepping back to consider wider conclusions. The ultimate aim would be to highlight the shared Scots-Irish sphere of influence, through these ‘negative’ and ‘positive’ cultural ties. However, I’m still not entirely convinced of the most effective structure to use.

 

Moving forward, I need to identify the primary sources that apply to these areas, and identify how they can contribute to the argument. Similarly, I need to research how the existing Irish and Scottish transnational historiography deals with these areas.

 

 

http://www.belfastceltic.org/

http://transnationalireland.com/bibliography/

Click to access RIISS_diaspora_bibliography.pdf

Project Progress and Problems

Where my project stands at the moment is one that still lacks focus and a specific argument at such. As the nature of my project has evolved from focusing on the first Documenta exhibition in 1955 to covering three (1955, 1968, and 1972 I think I’m going to move forward with) and looking at a long-term analysis instead, the breadth of historiography has widened. This is to be expected as I further interrogate German identity and politics through its varied periods, spanning the Adenauer period to Brandt era. What some of my research into the Documentas has revealed so far is that the onset of Ostpolitik (political efforts to ease West German-East German tensions from the late 1960s) did not mean the introduction of Eastern artists into documenta as of 1972. This raises questions surrounding Western German intentions to fulfill its Ostpolitik policy and whether its commitment to implement greater economic and cultural exchange was honest.

One such trend that has been apparent across all three exhibitions is the continually rising number of American artists featured, and is a possible avenue I might explore further as an understanding of German identity reformation. In the 1972 exhibition American artists made up over fifty percent of the participants, a noticeable change from the 1955 exhibition, which was dominated by Germans and featured only three American artists. Is this merely a trend reflecting the popularity of pop art, conceptual art, and others, or is there a feeling that Germany wants to move farther West, integrate more away from its Eastern counterpart? Does the cultural exchange between American and German artists demonstrate a transferral of German values? How do I determine exactly what these values are?

As I continue with my research, the greatest challenge seems to be forming an actual hypothesis and constructing an argument. At times there seems to be a wealth of information, and sifting through the historiography seems to be crucial at this point. In terms of primary sources there isn’t much beyond the works themselves, although at this point I feel like the art will be pushed aside in favour of transnationally looking at the scales at play here (exhibition, Kassel, Germany, Europe, and beyond). Within these scales is one question I keep coming back to as suggested by Dr. Struck, and that is why Kassel? I hope to keep this in mind as I continue a long-term examination of the scope of artists involved as connected to German identity.

Some Clarity (finally!) with My Project

After my research frustrations, I decided to turn back to David Goldblatt’s comprehensive book about the global history of football, The Ball is Round. In his chapter on the turn of the professionalization of the game, he argues that the European game quickly became more professional in the 1920’s due to the effects of the First World War. The war itself had terrible consequences on the people of Europe, and people had never been so eager to search for an escape. Perhaps a result of the mass-scale slaughter where millions of faceless, nameless men perished on the battlefields, there was a great fear amongst the populations of “anonymity” and losing their identity in the face of a massive political and economic machine that consumed everything in its path, and thus a sport with a focus on individuals like boxing would not suit the European public (though boxing remained immensely popular in the United States during the 1920’s and 30’s). Crowds flocked to the football grounds in Britain and on the continent, and big matches such as the Austria-Hungary international began to draw more than 60,000 spectators, a number exponentially higher than the pre-war figures below 20,000. Due to this increased attendance, clubs made more money from ticket sales and thus could afford to begin paying substantial salaries to their players. The footballers themselves enjoyed celebrity status as more and more people passed through the turnstiles to watch them play- not to mention the advent of live radio coverage of matches during the 1920’s- and thus were sought out by businesses to endorse their products: anything from sugar and stock cubes to cigarettes and alcohol could have a footballer’s name on it.

Goldblatt also argues that societal and cultural changes due to the war greatly effected the rise of football as well as the economic factors. Other British sports of the day, especially cricket and rugby, still promoted the old values of the Victorian era and imperialism and for the most part was not extended to the working class. Football, on the other hand, lost its major connection with imperialism when the general populace took it up during the war. The soldiers and the factory workers (even female ones) now played the game that had previously belonged exclusively to the upper classes, as the divides between the classes had been erased during the war. The prevailing idea of the amateur athlete thus lost prominence after the war as a result of the effacement of this barrier as well as the casualties of war: many young men who held these values and played these sports would tragically lose their lives in the war. Many of the footballers too passed away during the war, as the main demographic of footballers was the primary pool from which to recruit soldiers, but this did not stop football from spreading to the lower classes. Goldblatt highlights the simplicity of the sport for its rapid spread across class divides. Football had a simpler ruleset than rugby, cricket, or American sports like basketball and baseball did, and there was only one way to score, making it very easy to pick up both as a player and as a spectator. “No one could listen with cold blood or sluggish pulses to the quickening crescendo of the roar preceding the final shout of ‘goal’,” wrote the British novelist Winifred Holtby about the radio broadcasts, thus illustrating football’s power to provide a breathtaking, uplifting escape to the people of Europe after the horrors of World War I.

These are strong factors that could explain the push-pull factors in migration of South American players to Europe to play football professionally, as the sport in South America was slower in becoming fully professional. Unrelated to the push-pull factors but still a possible point of interest for my project are the network of managers on the continent that helped revolutionize the way the game was played and handled by the clubs. Figures such as Herbert Chapman in London and Hugo Meisl in Vienna pioneered new training regimens, tactics, and business models for the clubs to operate on. One name, that of Englishman Jimmy Hogan who coached in Budapest, particularly catches the eye. Hogan had been in Hungary since before the war, and was caught there at the outbreak of war in 1914. He remained interned as an enemy alien for the duration of the war but continued to coach throughout and after the conflict. Hogan’s place as an Englishman coaching in Hungary and caught in between the conflicts of the European states could prove to be an interesting study for a transnational historian, as could more generally the network of coaches around Europe that shared and build upon their own ideas and innovations. These are routes that I will certainly consider for my project.

 

Reading:

Goldblatt, David, The Ball is Round: A Global History of Soccer, Ch. 6 “Pay Up and Play the Game” (American Edition: New York, 2008). Print.

For more on Jimmy Hogan and the coaching network:

Wilson, Jonathan, Inverting the Pyramid: The History of Football Tactics, Chapters 2-4 (London, 2008). Print.

 

Project problems: accounts from the angle of the Ghadarites

Ghadar has been written about from two main perspectives: firstly (and primarily), building it into the story of Indian nationalism; secondly, fitting it into the history of revolutionary movements of the early twentieth century. It is the challenge of how to write a more nuanced transnational history of Ghadar that incorporates and transcends these artificial boundaries that I am up against. Maia Ramnath’s Haj to Utopia has attempted to achieve this recently; she astutely remarked: “so we might speak of a party, referring to a distinct organization of particular people at a certain place and time; and a moment, referring to an idea, a sensibility and a set of ideological commitments that took wing – or rather, took ship – exuberantly outrunning their originators’ control.” (Ramnath, 5). But, the real challenge is how to expose the transnational importance of the international Ghadarite network in a 5,000 word piece.

One of the most interesting aspects of the archival literature that I have managed to dig up is the extent to which the British state was concerned with both the spread of ‘Ghadar’ literature, and how wide the net for catching Indian revolutionaries was spread. The intelligence branch of the Indian Office actually compiled a regularly updated list known as The Ghadr Directory, containing the names of persons who were seen to be taking part in the Ghadar movement in America, Europe, Africa, Afghanistan, and India. As a 298-page document, The Ghadr Directory of 1934 has the potential to be a powerful tool for some sort of social network analysis. Unfortunately, however, the information listed after each name seems to be quite arbitrarily chosen. While sometimes noting location, or perhaps profession, there is no standard template, and so the accuracy of the list itself has to be called into question.

Another aspect of Ghadar that the British state kept a close eye on was their widespread propaganda mission. From the order involving Sir Edward Grey – British foreign secretary at the time (1915) – to prohibit the importation into British India of “a paper called Ghadr”, to the distribution of the Ghadr in wartime Persia, and an extensive list of “seditious” literature linked to the Ghadar party, there is extensive evidence of far-reaching attempts to propagandise. Their far-reaching actions are evident in an intelligence report on the punishment of Ghadar party revolutionaries captured at Baghdad.

Furthermore, there is one particular file that demonstrates the importance of intimidation and violence for the Ghadarites. In an account of the tour of the Maharaja of Kapurthala in America shows, the Ghadar party tried desperately to achieve his support and sympathy, but when it became apparent that this would not be forthcoming, threats began to come his way from renowned Ghadarites.

All of the above are potential ‘entry-points’ into my overall thesis about the connectedness of the group, which, although being ostensibly ideologically disparate, was able to pose such a threat to the British Empire. One of the key questions is choosing where exactly to enter, and one of my biggest problems is locating enough specific first-hand Ghadar accounts and literature to construct the story from their side, not just from that of the colonial power. Accounts that are available are invariably written and compiled many years after the events I intend to examine here, and are thus tainted by an inherent bias and discrimination. But this is perhaps what makes the project so interesting, as it tests some of the most important faculties of the historian. Any feedback on how to approach this issue would be highly appreciated.

 

References:

Ramnath, Maia, Haj to Utopia (London, 2011).

Project Progress: Dead Ends and New Entry Points

When I began my research for my project, I was very optimistic about the role that primary sources would play in my sources. Much like Sebastian Conrad examined the role of work in his study of migration in 19th Century Germany, my initial idea was to focus on transoceanic tours and examine their role in the rise of football around the globe as a spectator sport, and this examination would rely very heavily on newspaper articles. I actually had a lead on a particular Argentinian newspaper called Crítica that extensively covered Argentinian club Boca Juniors’ 1925 tour of Europe from Paul Dietschy’s article on the rise of international football. However, I have come up empty so far in my attempts to find a library in Scotland with access to archives containing this particular newspaper, and I learned quickly that South American newspapers are not particularly easy to get hold of from St Andrews. So, as I have apparently reached a dead end and with the end of the semester rapidly approaching, I’ve decided to temporarily set aside the tours and examine alternative ways of going about the project.

International tours, though an inherently transnational aspect of football, perhaps might not even be the best angle from which to approach this project. Dietschy speaks about South American players moving to Europe- particularly France and Italy- in the 1930’s to play for professional clubs. A simple analysis of rosters and squad lists from top-flight professional leagues could shed light on the extent of migration to Europe, which then- again taking inspiration from Conrad- could prompt an inquiry into the push and pull factors behind this flow of South American players to Europe. Using a database could be very helpful in analyzing the rosters and players’ nationalities, although it might also overcomplicate a simple process.

This analysis could also be done with regards to European players signing for South American clubs during the same period to avoid a possible Eurocentric focus for the project (Natalie Davis’s stated concern that global history is too Eurocentric is certainly on my mind).  Many of the South American teams during the period played football as good as or better than their European counterparts: Uruguay won the Gold Medal at the 1924 and 1928 Olympics and the first-ever World Cup in 1930, and Boca Juniors won 15 out of 19 matches played in Europe during their 1925 tour. Therefore, it will be important not to give Europe an exaggerated role in promoting football to the world. Arguably, the South American club and national sides did a great deal to invigorate an interest in the sport in Europe with their dazzling performances against European sides.

 

References:

Conrad, S. Globalisation and the Nation in Imperial Germany (Cambridge; New York: 2010).

Davis, Natalie Zemon, ‘Decentering History: Local Stories and Cultural Crossings in a Global World.’ History and Theory 50, no. 2 (2011), pp. 188-202. Accessed Online via the Wiley Online Library.

Dietschy, Paul. “Making Football Global? FIFA, Europe, and the Non-European Football World, 1912–74.” Journal of Global History 8, no. 02 (2013): pp 279–98. doi:10.1017/S1740022813000223.

Project Problems

The process of developing my project around the theme of Prohibition bootlegging on the Michigan-Ontario border has proved a challenging one. The wealth of primary and secondary sources which I have found has made it increasingly difficult to find a satisfactory focus for my research. At this point my primary concern is identifying an argument or question in order to construct a line of inquiry along which to direct my research over the coming weeks.

Having been inspired by our readings and discussions, I am keen to incorporate the microhistorical approach into my analysis. A potentially fruitful way of doing this would be to focus on a cross-border comparison between communities on the two sides of the Detroit River. The experiences of these border communities during Prohibition offer a fascinating lens on wider the wider political and social processes of the era. Starting at this local level should also allow me to keep bootlegging and bootleggers at the centre of my analysis.

However, the need to construct an argument remains. Ideally I will be able to identify some aspect of the relationship between the border communities which was initiated or altered by bootlegging or Prohibition more broadly, and use this as my line of argument. This could focus on ties between the communities, or instead on their parallel developments, which would perhaps highlight some surprising similarities or differences. My research thus far has hinted at a number of ways in which Prohibition was influential at the community level. These include the small-scale production of alcohol, the local involvement in smuggling activities, the influence of criminal gangs, and the public opinions towards bootleggers and law enforcers. The last of these has particularly caught my interest, as studies by Moore and others highlight the ways in which public opinion served to both reflect and influence the respective successes of bootlegging and enforcement. Tracking the shifts in public opinion is an interesting option, but it remains to be seen if this is valid and achievable at the local level.

My research on this topic so far has been extremely interesting, and I look forward to the challenge of constructing a narrower argument over the coming weeks. This process will hopefully include a trip to the National Library of Scotland to access some of the most detailed studies on prohibition in Michigan and Ontario. Any responses to the thoughts laid out in this blog would be most welcome, as would any questions or alternative suggestions.

 

Engelmann, Larry, Intemperance: the lost war against liquor (New York & London, 1979)

Mason, Philip, P., Rum Running and the Roaring Twenties (Detroit, 1995)

Moore, S. T. Bootlegging and Borders: The Paradox of Prohibition on a Canada-U.S. Borderland (Lincoln & London, 2014)

The Agency of the Individual

When examining history in the context of nation-states interacting with nation-states, it is often easy, and sometimes inevitable, that we lose sight of the role of individuals. Even if individuals are considered, it is difficult to imagine them as individual actors, and easy to picture them as either a resource, or something that history simply happens to.

In transnational history, examining interactions across national, territorial or, as is the case in Ulrike Lindner’s article on the German diamond town of Luderitzbucht, colonial boundaries often requires that historians study interactions and migrations at the individual level. By doing so, it reminds us of the agency that the individual actor has throughout history. Lindner writes that the “term ‘transnational history’ is used pragmatically in order to focus on connections and constellations that transcend borders and people who cross borders.” Lindner describes Luderitzbucht as a ‘transnational space,’ highlighting the transnational nature of the interactions between the German colonial administration, the Southwest African workers, the British consulate and the workers from the Cape. Specific attention is also given to the fact that the African migrant workers in South and Southwest Africa had much more individual agency than is often ascribed to them, and that this comes to light by examining their migrations and working conditions. The backing given to the workers from the Cape colony in Luderitzbucht by the British consulate, and the influence this gave them over their working conditions is only understandable when examining the transnational context that the events took place in. Examining transnational networks also highlights individual agency. In David S. Cox and Harold J. Cook’s article on scientific networks, the importance of individual visits between scientific communities is made abundantly clear. The dependence on oral contact and visible demonstrations between networks meant that individual links were what made up much wider networks.

Examining individual interactions across borders, therefore, brings attention to the agency and mobility that individual actors, and networks of individuals have in history, and how these are often divorced from their national identities.

Actors and networks- rethinking space and time

The concept of networks in transnational history is potentially a very powerful one; they can elucidate exactly why certain phenomena developed, and why in specific spaces, both socially and geographically. Human connections have often connected geographically independent regions or individuals in the globe, and it can be easy to carelessly label these ‘global’ networks. However, we must be vigilant to be specific in discussion of networks, circulations, and the transmission of knowledge in order to create a nuanced image that can truly enhance the analysis of historical phenomena.

James Secord’s concept of “knowledge in transit” is particularly useful in this sense when reflecting on the potentials of networks and their use in a transnational project, since it questions how time is used: “we need to stop using time unreflectively” (Secord, 663). Through thinking about networks, and constructing an alternative conduit through which to guide historical analysis, transnational historians should be aware that “what” is being said “can be answered only through a simultaneous understanding of “how,” “where,” “when,” and “for whom”.” (Secord, 663-4). Indeed, in their examination of networks during the scientific revolution, Lux and Cook identify “social prestige” as establishing the credibility of matters of fact. (Lux & Cook, 179). It was not necessarily the content (the “what”), but rather how well that person was connected that mattered, since this was what determined credibility. If personal meetings, correspondence, and frequent travel were the best way to build networks through the creation of “multiple weak ties”, and networks are seen as a way of connecting history, then agency is brought back into the picture.

Grand meta-narratives of globalisation have too often written human agency out of history. However, the reaction against this has already begun to put individual agency back into the picture, especially in the experimentation using different scales to show how the local was the global. In this sense, the reflection on networks, and more specifically, human agency, is part of a new way of approaching our recent past. Ulrike Lindner’s study on the transnational movements between colonial empires in South Africa highlights that however much the Germans tried to demarcate a national style of colonial rule, they were still at the mercy of business interests, and international considerations. A population shortage in the German South West African colony meant that migrant workers were encouraged from the British Cape Colony. As such, a British consulate was established in the mining town of Lüderitzbucht. The consul here was sympathetic to the grievances of the African workers, and represented a third institution between the workers and the German administration. This opened up a space for the workers to manoeuvre ‘between the colonies’, an opportunity that could be used to strengthen their claims and to fight for their rights.

It is the exposure of these types of networks that can help us to uncover forces that have hitherto been disregarded in historical analysis. Networks of ‘soft power’ that are very important in international relations are key, but the challenge is how to measure or locate these in the diffuse setting of a transnational network.

 

Readings:

Lindner, Ulrike. “Transnational Movements between Colonial Empires: Migrant Workers from the British Cape Colony in the German Diamond Town of Lüderitzbucht.” European Review of History: Revue Europeenne D’histoire 16, no. 5 (2009): 679–95.

David S. Lux and Harold J. Cook, ‘Closed Circles or Open Networks? Communicating at a distance during the scientific revolution’, History of Science 36 (1998): 179-211.

James Secord, ‘Knowledge in Transit’, Isis 95 (2004): 654-672

Rodogno, Davide, Bernhard Struck, and Jakob Vogel, eds. Shaping the Transnational Sphere: Experts, Networks and Issues from the 1840s to the 1930s. New York: Berghahn Books, 2014. (Introduction)

 

Personal Interactions: The Perfect Starting Point for Studying Networks (or a Historian’s Worst Nightmare)?

In her article we read back in Week 1, Patricia Clavin states that transnational history is “first and foremost about the people.” This might be stating the obvious, but it is a useful quote to keep in mind when looking at transnational history; after all, most of the ‘interconnectedness’ that Ian Tyrrell speaks of in his book was most likely created by mankind. So when considering networks as an object of study, we must also include the people who created and made use of these networks. Lux and Cook’s article actually pinned down the creation of one network- written correspondence between academics in 17th century Europe- to the personal, face-to-face interaction between them. In order for two people to begin a written correspondence- a flow of ideas across national borders- there had to be a trust that existed between them, and this trust had to emerge from face-to-face meetings between the people in question. Therefore, a personal connection was a prerequisite for written correspondence.

Though their findings might address a very specific instance in history, the idea that face-to-face meetings were an essential precondition for a correspondence to exist could easily transcend their focused study of the written correspondence of 17th century scientists. In fact, this idea might gives us a starting point from which to begin any inquiry into the field of transnational history. If one is looking at an existing network, it could be useful to begin by looking for the place where face-to-face interaction took place and thus where the network came out of. Say one wanted to examine trade networks between Japan and British India at the beginning of the 18th century. It may be helpful to first pinpoint a place where British and Japanese traders came into contact and perhaps began discussing possibilities of doing business. Where were these interactions taking place? Why were the Japanese there in the first place? Why were the British there? What steps were taken that successfully started trade between the two places? Or, did this trading network even begin with face-to-face meetings with British and Japanese traders? Did it come about indirectly, say by a meeting of a British trader with a Chinese trader who happened to be carrying Japanese goods? These are all questions one could tackle in undertaking this inquiry.

This method of investigation, however, also perhaps reveals the certain degree of impossibility of transnational history, in that it is absurd for a historian to attempt to study face-to-face meetings of people in-depth unless there are written records of them. How can we know for sure what the nature of the meeting was or what was being discussed or how the people in question were feeling at the time? How can we even pinpoint exact dates and places of meetings if all we have to study is what followed or came out of the meetings (in Lux and Cook’s article, the written correspondence). Perhaps from the 21st century onwards, these interactions might become easier to study with the advent of social media- people often times check in on Facebook when they out with someone (“Person X is with Person Y doing Z at Location 1”)- but even still we cannot know for sure what the conversation is or what their emotions are.

Reading:

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

David S. Lux and Harold J. Cook, ‘Closed Circles or Open Networks? Communicating at a distance during the scientific revolution’, History of Science 36 (1998): 179-211.