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Chapter 7 examines the construction of a stereotype of a different nature from those studied in the book. The discovery of a portrait of Bernardo de Monteagudo allowed a reflection on the theoretical impossibility of a descendant of enslaved Africans to be part of the pantheon of national heroes. It is a different image from that which was and continues to be widely disseminated, in which the face of the Tucumán hero was represented with undeniably “White” features. Comparing both portraits demonstrates an extreme case of whitening that enabled deploying a reverse stereotype.
The introduction sets out the approaches, sources, and scope of the book. It acquaints the reader with the main features of classical education and places the book within the modern historiography.
Chapter 2 analyzes two works related to the Juan Manuel de Rosas era, one actually produced during this time and the other from the late nineteenth or early twentieth century. In both, Afro-Porteños are present in large numbers, and their representation conflicts with literary discourses. While the writings are filled with defamatory adjectives that seek to create a chaotic and barbaric image of Afro-Porteños, the paintings present a pleasing and orderly image. After Rosas’s defeat in 1852, his opponents worked tirelessly to associate the group with Rosas and his barbaric era. This conception of Afro-Argentines has become a stereotype. They are thus confined to an abominable past that must not be repeated. This strategy constitutes one more way of rendering invisible a population whose extinction was prophesied as inevitable since the mid-nineteenth century. These ideas persist to this day, despite the actual presence of Afro-descendants in our territory, and they, in turn, clearly influence the racial classifications that operate in Argentine society.
This chapter explores how the Declaration of Independence was drafted and ratified. Congress created and assigned the task of drafting a declaration of independence to a committee of lawyers. When the draft went to the Congress, lawyers like Edward Rutledge had their chance to weigh in. The draft document and the final version was a legal document designed to place rebellion on a legal foundation. Jefferson later recalled that his draft of the Declaration of Independence merely recombined ideas that had long been discussed, and terminology long adopted, by Congress. The Declaration assumed independence, otherwise it would have had no foundation. Following this logic, as the members did, surely Jefferson among them, the Declaration was simply stating the reasons – a justification like the Declaratory Act of 1766, by which Parliament explained its authority over the colonies – for an event already transpired. The ringing elaboration of the rights of mankind, various borrowings from John Locke, echoes of natural law, and the language of prior resolves and declarations were not really pertinent to a declaration for the independence of a continent, but make sense in the more limited framework of Virginia constitutional change.
This chapter situates the Declaration of Independence in relation to another founding document of the United States, the federal Constitution. It assesses the Declaration’s role in debates over the Constitution, first during the latter’s framing in 1787, then in the struggle for ratification, and then later as political actors sought to interpret each document in light of the other. From the outset, debate over the Constitution highlighted the Declaration’s multivalence as well as its rhetorical power. Both defenders and opponents of the Constitution have sought to show how their cause best aligned with the ideals and aspirations expressed in the Declaration. Anti-federalists and their successors constructed a powerful narrative which juxtaposed the Declaration’s call to liberty with the Constitution’s blueprint for authority. Yet there was from the beginning an equally strong tradition that saw the Constitution as a consummation of the Declaration’s promise. Either way, this chapter argues, the Declaration continues to help shape the meaning of the Constitution – and to have its own meaning remolded in turn.
The People's Two Powers revisits the emergence of democracy during the French Revolution and examines how French liberalism evolved in response. By focusing on two concepts often studied separately – public opinion and popular sovereignty – Arthur Ghins uncovers a significant historical shift in the understanding of democracy. Initially tied to the direct exercise of popular sovereignty by Rousseau, Condorcet, the Montagnards, and Bonapartist theorists, democracy was first rejected, then redefined by liberals as rule by public opinion throughout the nineteenth century. This redefinition culminated in the invention of the term 'liberal democracy' in France in the 1860s. Originally conceived in opposition to 'Caesarism' during the Second Empire, the term has an ongoing and important legacy, and was later redeployed by French liberals against shifting adversaries – 'totalitarianism' from the 1930s onward, and 'populism' since the 1980s.
In this study, R. K. Farrin offers a fresh perspective on the emergence of Islam by tracing the structural and thematic development of the Qur'an in Mecca. He analyzes the form and content of the Qur'an at its earliest stage (ca. 609–14 CE), when it grew from a few verses to a scriptural corpus. From quantitative and literary evidence, Farrin argues that a Qur'anic nucleus – carrying a particularly urgent message – most likely formed during this period, to which units were then added as revelation continued in Mecca and Medina (ca. 615–32 CE). His study also situates the emerging Qur'an in the context of late antique Arabia, where monotheism's spread was still resisted by resident pagans. It also draws connections to contemporary Jewish and Christian ideas, especially regarding the anticipated Last Day. Significantly, Farrin's study peels back layers of Islamic history to consider the Qur'an and the environment in which it was first being recited.
Dante's Divina Commedia/Divine Comedy (completed c. 1321) is considered one of the greatest works in Western literature, and its three canticles – Inferno, Purgatorio, and Paradiso – have had a powerful influence on subsequent literature and thought. Dante shares the classical idea that political philosophy aims to defend the philosophic life, and in Paradiso he does just that, defending philosophy, understood as a way of life, against its subordination to Christianity. Paul Stern shows the contribution Dante's reflection on political life makes to his theoretical defense of the philosophic life, a life whose character and goodness are conveyed by his intensely self-reflective poetry. On his account, Dante's approach can guide our judgment of any proposal for the comprehensive transformation of human existence. It enables us, in short, to think more clearly about just what we should mean by paradise.
Why do supposedly accountability-enhancing electoral reforms often fail in young democracies? How can legislators serve their constituents when parties control the necessary resources? Unity through Particularism sheds light on these questions and more by explaining how parties can use personal vote-seeking incentives in order to decrease intra-party dissent. Studying a unique electoral reform in Mexico, the book provides a detailed description of how institutional incentives can conflict. It draws on a variety of rich, original data sources on legislative behavior and organization in 20 Mexican states to develop a novel explanation of how electoral reforms can amplify competing institutional incentives. In settings where legislative rules and candidate selection procedures favor parties, legislators may lack the resources necessary to build voter support. If this is the case, party leaders can condition access to these resources on loyalty to the party's political agenda.
In contrast to the drastic shifts in China's political landscape and society since 2012, taxation may appear as a comparatively mundane topic receiving limited attention. However, the relative stability in China's taxation system underscores its delicate role in maintaining a balance in state–society relations. The Element embarks on an exploration of China's intricate taxation system in the contemporary era, illuminating its origins and the profound reverberations on state–society relations. It shows that China's reliance on indirect taxation stems from the legacies of transitioning from a planned economy to a market-driven one as well as elaborate fiscal bargaining between the central and local governments. This strategy inadvertently heightens Chinese citizens' sensitivity to direct taxation and engenders the tragedy of the commons, leading to rising government debts and collusion by local governments and businesses that results in land expropriation, labor disputes, and environmental degradation.
Histories of Latin literature have often treated the period from the second to the seventh centuries as an epilogue to the main action – and yet the period includes such towering figures as Apuleius, Claudian, Prudentius, Augustine, Jerome, Boethius, and Isidore. The Cambridge History of Later Latin Literature, with fifty chapters by forty-one scholars, is the first book to treat the immensely diverse literature of these six centuries together in such generous detail. The book shows authors responding to momentous changes, and sometimes shaping or resisting them: the rise of Christianity, the introduction of the codex book, and the end of the western Roman Empire. The contributors' accounts of late antique Latin literature do not shy away from controversy, but are always clear, succinct, and authoritative. Students and scholars wanting to explore unfamiliar areas of Late Antiquity will find their starting point here.
Rice is the foremost foodstuff in terms of caloric intake for Southeast Asians and for bolstering national food security, yet writings on the region's politics have overlooked the crucial role rice production programs have played in shaping signal political and development outcomes. In this comparative historical analysis, Jamie S. Davidson argues that the performance legitimacy stemming from the Green Revolution of the 1960s and 1970s, along with the formation of rice import regimes, best explain durable rice protectionism in the Philippines, Malaysia, and Indonesia, the region's large rice importers. Even though the direct effects of the Green Revolution eventually faded, he demonstrates that past policy success can inform policymaking for decades after remarkable sectoral performance subsides. This innovative account and its conclusions will be of interest to scholars and students of development studies, comparative political economy and Asian studies.
Histories of Latin literature have often treated the period from the second to the seventh centuries as an epilogue to the main action – and yet the period includes such towering figures as Apuleius, Claudian, Prudentius, Augustine, Jerome, Boethius, and Isidore. The Cambridge History of Later Latin Literature, with fifty chapters by forty-one scholars, is the first book to treat the immensely diverse literature of these six centuries together in such generous detail. The book shows authors responding to momentous changes, and sometimes shaping or resisting them: the rise of Christianity, the introduction of the codex book, and the end of the western Roman Empire. The contributors' accounts of late antique Latin literature do not shy away from controversy, but are always clear, succinct, and authoritative. Students and scholars wanting to explore unfamiliar areas of Late Antiquity will find their starting point here.
The traumatic Spanish invasion of Mesoamerica, and the Ibero-Catholic colonialism that followed, truly transformed Indigenous political, economic, and socio-cultural practices. Confronted by dogmatic European literary regimes, strident indoctrination, and acts of structural violence, how could 'Aztec' education have survived in colonial times? An Unholy Pedagogy rethinks education studies by centering discussions on Indigenous visions of learning that shaped schooling throughout the sixteenth century. Joshua Jacob Fitzgerald tracks education systems before the Spanish-Catholic invasion, examining the writings, art, and architecture of Nahua communities. He analyses Nahuatl primary sources and historical art and archaeological sources, focusing especially on materials produced by Indigenous and Indigenous-Christian artists and scribes. This fascinating interdisciplinary study reveals the ways that Nahua students transformed pedagogy, shaped learning, and preserved local knowledge.
This chapter argues for the Italian Renaissance as a pivotal moment in women’s history. This was the first Western age in which secular women emerged in significant numbers as producers, as well as consumers, of high culture. It also witnessed the development of new ways of thinking about sex and gender, framed to counter traditional arguments for women’s inferiority to men. Like many Renaissance cultural innovations, the emergence of culturally active women was initially an elite phenomenon mainly limited to the princely courts, but practices like women’s writing later migrated down to lower strata of urban society. By the late sixteenth century, women writers were being joined by other species of virtuose such as singers, composers, actresses, painters, and other visual artists. The chapter argues that traditional periodizations of the Renaissance, which see the movement as ending in the mid sixteenth century, have led to a major underestimation of the degree to which women may be considered stakeholders in the movement alongside men.
This chapter traces the history of Renaissance Italy’s long and passionate love affair with the textual and material remnants of classical antiquity, exploring classical influences within literary and intellectual history, art history, and material culture. The classicizing movement known as humanism is charted here from its origins in the early 1300s to the moment sometimes called the High Renaissance in early sixteenth-century Rome. The chapter argues that past paradigms have often over-emphasized the secular leaning of Renaissance humanism or posited a sharp transition from a medieval, other-worldly to an earthly, human-focused world-view. Countering this, the chapter examines the ways in which a society and culture still deeply invested in Christianity responded to the philosophical challenges posed by pagan antiquity and the strategies it developed to reconcile the two.