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In Chapter 12, Gao Pian’s devotion to Daoism (“The Dao of Gao”) invites controversy. The section “White Marsh and Blue Bottle” recounts the writer Luo Yin’s visit to Yangzhou and his unsuccessful quest for employment at Gao’s headquarters. Subsequently, the embittered Luo would circulate a satirical pamphlet titled Bewitched in Guangling that depicts Gao as an aging despot manipulated by religious charlatans. “The Parting of Solitary Cloud” accompanies Ch’oe Ch’iwŏn on his return journey to Silla in late 884, documented in poems and letters exchanged with Gao Pian. Ch’oe’s departure brings the scribe’s blow-by-blow documentation of Gao Pian’s action in Huainan to an abrupt end, opening a floodgate for rumor, gossip, and recrimination. Huainan becomes embroiled in conspiracy and violence, reaching a pitch in 887, as Gao’s subordinates plot to seize power from each other. In “Maelstrom,” the scope of the plot deepens to supplanting the military governor as overlord in Huainan. Gao Pian and his family fall victim to an assassination conspiracy.
Chapter 5 covers the end of Gao’s mission in Annan and his reassignment to Shandong. In “Farewell to Annan,” he returns to the Tang mainland via the newly completed Heavenly Might Canal to a hero’s welcome in Chang’an. “Imperial Insignia Guard” refers to his intermediate appointment as general of the imperial palace guards at the capital (868–69). After six months in that role he receives a new field commission to suppress banditry and insurrection in Shandong as military governor of the northeastern regional command Celestial Peace (869–74). Gao succeeds in restoring the peace in the rebellious province and receives a “Celestial Tally,” an imperial order redeploying him to the Southwest to confront a new invasion of the Tang’s frontiers by Nanzhao, this time in the regional command of Western Sichuan. “The Road to Shu” follows the general’s journey to the war zone in Sichuan. In “Brandishing the Imperial Standard,” Gao arrives in Chengdu with a strategy in place for combatting the invaders.
Chapter 1 describes Gao Pian’s personal background and sketches the salient traits of his multi-faceted character. “Ancestral Geography” traces the clan history of the Bohai Gao to the Hebei-Manchurian borderlands and the northeastern Tang prefecture of Youzhou. “Military Men of Letters” outlines Gao Pian’s family legacy as a poet-general, giving particular attention to the example of his grandfather Gao Chongwen. “Patterns of Patronage” discusses the late Tang shift of the patronage system from the imperial court and the households of the central elite to the military headquarters of regional potentates. Gao Pian’s patronage of technical, religious, and literati retainers, among them several distinguished poets and authors, exemplifies this process. The section “Worldly Recluse” focuses on the religious dimension of Gao’s personality as a lay adept drawn to Daoist military strategy, alchemy, and the esoteric arts. Gao’s Daoist poetry shows how the upheavals of the period were reflected in lay religious experience and how Daoists sought to sublimate its violent conclusion.
Party-based authoritarian regimes have often demonstrated remarkable resilience throughout wars, revolutions, and state-building processes. Yet how they consolidate authority in newly emerging socioeconomic fields that arise from the (partial) liberalization of socioeconomic policies remains insufficiently explored. This study examines the Chinese Communist Party’s (CCP) penetration into new socioeconomic organizations in the non-public sector, showing how it balances political control with socioeconomic vitality. We identify three strategies—coercion, indoctrination, and incentivization—framed within a process-oriented, three-step model that highlights ongoing CCP-organization dynamics rather than one-sided penetration. Drawing on resource dependence and organizational field theories, we explain both the Party’s strategic choices and organizational responses. This process has generated institutional isomorphism in the non-public sector, where party-building is increasingly viewed as a means of securing legitimacy and enhancing performance. Our analysis contributes not only to understanding CCP adaptability but also to broader debates on how authoritarian ruling parties consolidate authority in emerging fields.
Situated at the intersection of the history of science and medicine and the history of bodies, this article investigates the lives of the dead in late-nineteenth and early-twentieth-century India. By the late nineteenth century, the dead moved into the socio-material landscape of the ‘sanitary city’ of Calcutta via crematoriums, burning ghats, dissecting theatres, and anatomy labs. Subsequently, one notices two new developments. On the one hand, Calcutta witnessed the rise of pathological anatomy, whereby the dead drifted into biology. On the other hand, massive mortalities triggered by disease and the paranoia of death in rural Bengal spurred the proliferation of ghost stories. In understanding attitudes toward death, occult, spiritualism, mesmerism, and the unexplained, can ‘unreason’ be a useful framework to comprehend the past? Drawing on the colonial archive of municipal reports and vernacular archive of fiction to the activities of the Society for Psychical Research (SPR) and the Theosophical Society in Adyar, I examine how the two stories—the urban, anatomical, reasoned science and the spectral ‘irrational’ fantasies—often coexisted as the dead moved from hospital beds to dissecting tables to spiritualist awakenings and horror tales. I argue that in this web of entanglement between the living and the dead, between ‘scientific’ culture and the phantasmagorical ethos, and in the liminal boundaries between positivism/passion, and surgery/mesmerism, we witness the birth of a new affect-laden sensibility in British Bengal.
In Chapter 3 the threat to the Tang’s borders shifts south when in 863 the multiethnic kingdom of Nanzhao in modern Yunnan invades the neighboring Tang Protectorate of Annan in today’s northern Vietnam, with the help of rebellious cross-border tribes. To deal with the emergency, Gao Pian is redeployed to the deep South. The section “Ethnic Warfare” lays out the ethnic composition of the regional population. “The War Experienced by Civilians” describes the impact of the Tang defeat of 863 on the civilian populations of Annan and the mainland Tang prefectures that had provided the men and supplies of the destroyed garrison. In “Staging Posts,” Gao Pian approaches the new theatre of war via Yongzhou (Nanning) and Haimen, a sea port on the northern coast of the Gulf of Tonkin, while preparing the counter invasion. In “The Southern Campaign,” he ships his troops across the Gulf and begins attacking Nanzhao positions in the Red River delta, a major conduit for Tang maritime trade with Southeast Asia. “The Siege of Jiaozhi” describes the ferocious campaign for the recovery of Jiaozhi (Hanoi) through a battle narrative from Gao Pian’s own hand.
Chapter 10 is based on the voluminous correspondence between Gao Pian’s military headquarters in Yangzhou (Cassia Grove) and the court-in-exile at Chengdu in 881–84 that is preserved in the Cassia Grove Collection of Ch’oe Ch’iwŏn. The issues addressed are grouped under five headings. “Central Harmony” concerns Emperor Xizong’s situation in Sichuan and Huainan’s loyalist positioning relative to the exiled government. In “Demotions and Promotions,” Gao reacts to his removal from his (now defunct) national offices and elevation in honorific rank. “Family Matters” examines the symbolic kinship relations that tied the sovereign to his subjects. Under “A Circuit of Giving,” the substitution of ritual tribute offerings for tax payments from Huainan is discussed. In exchange, the emperor returns ceremonial gifts. In “The End of the Huang Chao Rebellion,” Gao responds to the court’s preparations to return to the capital after the defeat of the insurrection. The documentation provided in this chapter reveals the ideological slant of the official record regarding Gao Pian’s relations with the emperor during these pivotal years for the Tang.
The Korean War in Britain explores the social and cultural impact of the Korean War (1950–53) on Britain. Coming just five years after the ravages of the Second World War, Korea was a deeply unsettling moment in post-war British history. When North Korea invaded South Korea in June 1950, Britons worried about a return to total war and the prospect of atomic warfare. As the war progressed, British people grew uneasy about the conduct of the war. From American ‘germ’ warfare allegations to anxiety over Communist use of ‘brainwashing’, the Korean War precipitated a series of short-lived panics in 1950s Britain. But by the time of its uneasy ceasefire in 1953, the war was becoming increasingly forgotten, with more attention paid to England’s cricket victory at the Ashes than to returning troops. Using Mass Observation surveys, letters, diaries and a wide range of under-explored contemporary material, this book charts the war’s changing position in British popular imagination, from initial anxiety in the summer of 1950 through to growing apathy by the end of the war and into the late-twentieth century. Built around three central concepts – citizenship, selfhood and forgetting – The Korean War in Britain connects a critical moment in Cold War history to post-war Britain, calling for a more integrated approach to Britain’s Cold War past. It explores the war a variety of viewpoints – conscript, POW, protestor and veteran – to offer the first social history of this ‘forgotten war’. It is essential reading for anyone interested in Britain’s post-1945 history.
This chapter examines the actions of opponents to the Korean War, the consequences for the British state and how British people felt about such forthright critics of the war. This chapter first starts by analysing the heavily criticised Communist Party of Great Britain. It unpicks the central elements of Communist opposition to the war and the largely poor reception their campaign received. This chapter nevertheless highlights the cultural tenacity and appeal of one recurring component of British Communist opposition – anti-Americanism. This sentiment chimed with other strands of post-war British culture and set the tone for later protest movements and cultural responses to Americanisation in the second half of the twentieth century. This chapter also explores instances of frontline resistance from British servicemen, showing how servicemen and others in Korea - most notably war correspondents - were appalled by the level of violence directed at the civilian population. It examines allegations of biological or ‘germ’ warfare put forth by the ‘Red Dean of Canterbury’ Hewlett Johnson (1874-1966) and the scientist Joseph Needham (1900-95), before concluding with a detailed examination of the infamous town planner Monica Felton, who visited North Korea during the war.
This chapter starts by examining the experiences and treatment of British POWs in Korea before exploring how they were regarded by British society upon their return. This chapter traces the broader cultural implications of Korean War captivity in Britain, emphasising the lived experience of imprisonment for British POWs, before examining how the term brainwashing emerged from rumours and half-truths about Korean War captivity. It explores both the popular and official responses to allegations of brainwashing and its broader cultural significance within post-1945 Britain.
This chapter examines how citizenship and selfhood were subtly recalibrated through conscription in Cold War Britain and uncovers details of the lives of young national servicemen in Korea. It begins with a discussion of military citizenship in the era of the Korean War, before turning to specific moments in national service life. Starting with recruitment (a recurring feature in most memoirs of national service), it explores the significance of masculinity, age, class and humour for the young men who were sent to Korea during their two years’ service. Together with the previous chapter, it sets out again the importance of experience to the social history of the Korean War in Britain. It considers how opinions on national service further informed the British views of the Korean War and how, like Korea, national service fitted uneasily within the narratives of post-war British society and culture. Like Korea, was national service obligatory, unglamorous and potentially of limited overall purpose?
This chapter highlights the key themes and conclusions of the book, calling for a more integrated approach to studying the Cold War and post-war British history.