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The Supreme Court is less constrained than political science has recognized. Motivated justices can dramatically alter politics without deferring to actors in the other branches. Subverting constraints, justices can aggrandize power and impose their irreducible preferences. Using Reconstruction as an example, this article brings new evidence to support the claim that an autonomous Court precipitated the end of Reconstruction. I make three essential arguments: First, the Republican commitment to federal civil rights protection extended longer than is traditionally supposed. Second, the architect of postbellum constitutionalism, Justice Bradley, harbored long-standing fear of Black equality and enfeebled the Reconstruction amendments when neither legal nor political imperatives compelled him to do so. Last, Bradley’s interventions substantially hindered Reconstruction by facilitating the “redemption” of southern state governments. This article employs mixed-methodology, using a difference-in-differences analysis and novel archival data. Contrary to scholarship arguing that the Court simply followed a Republican retreat, the Court dramatically reshaped the political-social development of Reconstruction.
Both historians of science and Americanists have depicted famed nineteenth-century astronomer and political economist Simon Newcomb as a relatively stern “mugwump,” impressive in his scientific achievement, yet at times stunted by a parochial arrogance. In histories of nineteenth-century liberalism, in particular, Newcomb makes cameos as a stand-in for an economically conservative wing. This article analyzes two facets of Newcomb’s postwar thinking that have been consistently left out: race and nationalism. After the Civil War, Newcomb pushed a nationalist discourse of American scientific progress in The North American Review that at times wavered between cultural and biological determinism. He spoke in terms of national styles and believed that American science, opposed to French, German, or English science, languished. His advocacy for an American science rested upon implicit “ethnoracial” nationalist assumptions. Contrary to his laissez-faire liberalism, it called for a more activist scientific state, and feared a nationalism of apathy that he believed pervaded both American science and politics. This article, moreover, argues that Newcomb’s thought was intimately tied to his experiences in postbellum Washington, suggesting the need for more localist and urban studies of the rise of state science after the Civil War.
This article examines Civil War commemoration in St. Louis, Missouri, to demonstrate not only that Memorial Day celebrations followed an atypical path in this border-state city, but that shifts in how Memorial Day was celebrated strongly affected which groups were able to participate. Public Civil War commemoration in St. Louis became increasingly reconciliationist in the early 1870s as the public rejected continued Reconstruction, with the result that Memorial Day became a joint Union and Confederate commemoration. Women and Black men were increasingly excluded, leaving white men, both native-born and German American, to control the narrative of the day. In the 1880s, the Grand Army of the Republic (GAR), gained enough power in the city to seize control of Memorial Day and change it into a commemoration that honored the Union cause only. This shift also created space for Black veterans and women of both races to participate through their membership in the GAR and its auxiliary, the Woman’s Relief Corps.
This study examines it-clefts in four- and five-year-old English-speaking children using a truth-value judgment task. The goal was to find out whether children (i) observe principle C in clefts like It was Spot that he brushed and (ii) access bound-variable interpretations in clefts like It was her pig that every girl carried, despite the lack of c-command between relevant elements in the surface representation. Our experimental finding was that children behave like adults. This suggests that children do not rely solely on the word order of sentences encountered in their linguistic input, but use mechanisms made available by innate linguistic knowledge for interpretation.
Some languages constrain the recursive embedding of NPs to some specific morphosyntactic types, allowing it, for example, only with genitives but not with bare juxtaposition. In Indo-European, every type of NP embedding—genitives, adjectivizers, adpositions, head marking, or juxtaposition—is unavailable for syntactic recursion in at least one attested language. In addition, attested pathways of change show that NP types that allow recursion can emerge and disappear in less than 1,000 years. This wide-ranging synchronic diversity and its high diachronic dynamics raise the possibility that at many hypothetical times in the history of the family recursive NP embedding could have been lost for all types simultaneously, parallel to what has occasionally been observed elsewhere (Everett 2005, Evans & Levinson 2009).
Performing Bayesian phylogenetic analyses on a sample of fifty-five languages from all branches of Indo-European, we show, however, that it is extremely unlikely for such a complete loss to ever have occurred. When one or more morphosyntactic types become unavailable for syntactic recursion in an NP, an unconstrained alternative type is very likely to develop in the same language. This suggests that, while diachronic pathways away from NP recursion clearly exist, there is a tendency—perhaps a universal one—to maintain or develop syntactic recursion in NPs. A likely explanation for this evolutionary bias is that recursively embedded phrases are not just an option that languages have (Fitch et al. 2005), but they are in fact preferred by our processing system.
This chapter tells the history of European urban heritage by evaluating its conceptual evolution, its relation to the major waves of urbanisation, and its role in shaping the historic quarters and the forms of urban governance as guiding indicators. The growing complexity of urban heritage integrates different types of expertise, social involvement and forms of governance. The urban growth of many nineteenth-century European cities led to their spread and to the replanning of their centres. Whereas many European city centres provided a privileged area for the political instrumentalisation of public remembrance, many became sites of industrial urbanisation. For the latter, deurbanisation usually accelerated after the Second World War due to the mass destruction or by faster industrialisation. From the 1970s, this tendency was reversed, with reurbanisation redefining these neighbourhoods. Although these processes do not entirely follow the same rhythm, they roughly determine four periods divided by the Second World War, the 1970s and 2000. Authenticity – as a historical reference, as a principle of heritage conservation, or as a constructive element of current identity-formations – remained the standard for safeguarding urban heritage and the conceptual bridge between the representation of the historic city and the urban realities in its place.
The urban systems of Germany and Switzerland were characterised by the federal structure of the political system, whereas Vienna clearly was the primate city for the Habsburg territories until 1918. Urban growth was unbalanced, showing in the over-proportional growth of ‘central places’ and the rise of ‘new’ cities close to coal and iron. Despite the plutocratic nature of urban governance in German and Austrian cities, municipal government reacted to the challenges of urbanisation and industrialisation and developed a professionalised service administration catering for the basic needs of urban residents.
After 1918 German, Austrian and Swiss cities saw a very innovative period with social housing ranking high on the agenda, particularly in ‘Red Vienna’. The Great Depression and National Socialism terminated this reform period, leaving massively destroyed urban landscapes in Germany and Austria after 1945. After the Second World War, the decades until the mid-1970s were dominated by a robust economic boom, urban reconstruction and mass motorisation, whereas the period after the oil crisis saw a questioning of former engineering and planning approaches and a new appreciation of heritage.
After the First World War, the nations of Europe faced exchange-rate volatility, high national debts, and inflationary pressures. In response, many sought to stabilize the economies through extensive fiscal and monetary reforms. One of the key figures in the reconstruction effort was Henry Strakosch. As the Bank’s informal adviser, he was responsible for devising restructuring plans across Central Europe and the British Empire. Leveraging his connections at the League of Nations, the Bank of England, and the City of London, Strakosch led negotiations that resulted in the establishment of both the Austrian National Bank and the South African Reserve Bank. His work exemplified the institutionalization of economic orthodoxy in circles of influence and heralded the rise of the international financial expert. More broadly, Strakosch’s interventions contributed to the state-building process in the interwar years, as new nations drew on expert knowledge to establish their political legitimacy.
Here the focus is on covert cases of wh-movement, i.e. cases where the movement takes place in such a way that it cannot be directly observed in the output of PF, but only in terms of its effects on the semantic interpretation. The best-known example of this kind of wh-movement is found in Mandarin Chinese; accordingly we focus on that language. Next, we look at cases of covert movement in English: Quantifier Raising and wh-movement in multiple questions. Then we turn to the nature of the copies of movement, showing how copies can provide an account of reconstruction of binding-theory relations at the CI interface, as well as of partial movement and doubling at PF.
This article argues that the image of the ‘bad German’ and the animus that accompanied it was tempered by that of the defeated German and the pity Italians in liberal and Catholic circles expressed for German misery. Such sympathetic expressions were not confined to the ruling elite but circulated broadly in media representations and in accounts given by Italians who travelled north in the early postwar years. To view Germans as objects of pity was an empowering act and a humanising one. As an emotion and a practice, pity provided a blueprint for how to think and feel about the former enemy – and oneself – that, in Italy, reinforced Catholic and liberal frameworks for political and social reconstruction. Important to constructions of East–West difference and to the Christian democratic groundings of Western Europe, pity continues to shape debates on European identity, immigration and humanitarian aid.
When Ulysses S. Grant succumbed to cancer on July 23, 1885, the nation mourned the loss of one of its greatest generals and the first president to enforce the civil rights of African Americans. As scholars are increasingly recognizing, many Republicans remained committed to the protection of Black suffrage as late as 1890, but in exploring the reaction to Grant’s death, Civil War memory scholars have overlooked the importance of memories of Grant’s presidency. Through an examination of newspapers and biographies in the months after Grant’s death and the immediate years thereafter, up to 1890, this article demonstrates that Americans of all political stripes used their memories of Grant’s presidency to aid their long-term political goals of either restricting or promoting Black civil rights. Democrats and reform-minded Republicans tried to denigrate Grant’s administration for supposed corruption while still applauding his magnanimity at Appomattox. In contrast, their Republican opponents, Black and white, contested this memory by constructing a politically purposeful memory of Grant’s Reconstruction-era politics as part of their ongoing fight to enforce Black voting rights and by extension secure the fruits of Union military victory. In doing so, Americans demonstrated that they remained unreconciled and divided on both the battlefields of Civil War memory and Reconstruction.
The Conclusion summarizes the book’s arguments and contextualizes them within broader patterns of public discourse in which Jamaica was conceptualized as especially revealing about race, and in which biblical slogans were used to encode universal claims about race. The conclusion analyzes a speech given by English lawyer and politician Charles Savile Roundell, who had served as secretary to the Royal Commission of Inquiry appointed to investigate Jamaica’s 1865 Morant Bay rebellion. Addressing the Tenth Annual Meeting of the National Association for the Promotion of Social Science, held in Manchester, England, Roundell proposed taking Jamaica as a crucial instance, a term taken from Francis Bacon’s program for a new scientific method. And he cited the Bible as he made claims about how the races could and should relate to one another.
The Introduction frames the book’s argument by analyzing coverage of Jamaica’s 1865 Morant Bay rebellion in the American Missionary (New York), published by the American Missionary Association. The editors invoked Ecclesiastes 7:7, “Surely oppression maketh a wise man mad,” to blame Jamaica’s largely White plantocracy for pushing Black laborers to breaking point. They drew out the implications of this lesson on race for the United States – White Americans who had participated in the system of slavery should not be entrusted with safeguarding the rights of free Black citizens. This book shows how Jamaicans, Britons, and Americans understood Jamaica as a prime example, a test case that shed light on great questions about race and race relations occupying the Atlantic world at the end of the American Civil War. It argues that they used biblical slogans to encode a wide variety of claims about race and race relations. This Introduction relates the book’s argument to work by historians on Jamaica, the British Empire, and abolitionism, on the one hand, and work by biblical and religious studies scholars on the Bible and race, on the other.
In this paper, we demonstrate that the federal enforcement of the 15th Amendment is necessary for Black representation in the U.S. South. Using novel data on Black officeholders in the South from 1866 to 1912 and from 1969 to 1993, we examine Black representation during Reconstruction and after the passage of the 1965 Voting Rights Act. In both political periods, we find that policies aimed to enforce the 15th Amendment and active Black political participation are necessary preconditions for Black officeholding. This paper helps contextualize scholarship on descriptive representation by identifying this critical link between democracy and representation in the American South. By analyzing broad periods of history, we demonstrate the enduring necessity of active policymaking to ensure fair elections as a precondition of democracy in the American South. Our findings carry significant consequences for understanding the health of American democracy in the twenty-first century.
Following the Great East Japan earthquake, tsunami and nuclear disaster of 11 March 2011, the Japanese government began constructing a series of 440 seawalls along the north-eastern coast of Honshu. Cumulatively measuring 394.2km, they are designed to defend coastal communities against tsunami that frequently strike the region. We present a case study of the new seawall in Tarō, Iwate Prefecture, which had previously constructed massive sea defences in the wake of two tsunami in 1896 and 1933, which were subsequently destroyed in 2011. We ask whether the government has properly imagined the next disaster for the era of climate change and, therefore, whether its rationale for Tarō‘s new seawall is sufficient. We argue that the government has implemented an incremental strengthening of Tarō‘s existing tsunami defence infrastructure. Significantly, this does not anticipate global warming driven sea level rise, which is accelerating, and which requires transformational adaptation. This continues a national pattern of disaster preparedness and response established in the early 20th century, which resulted in the failure to imagine the 2011 tsunami. We conclude by recalling the lessons of France's Maginot Line and invoke the philosophy of Tanaka Shōzō, father of Japan's modern environmental movement, who urged Japanese to adjust to the flow (nagare) of nature, rather than defend against it, lest they are undone by the force of its backflow (gyakuryū).
The reconstruction efforts following the 2011 Tōhoku earthquake and tsunami (3/11) have sparked a rediscovery of the concept of kizuna (literally, “bonds between people”). Some Japanese authors, however, are contesting and expanding on this notion as a way of coming to terms with the disaster. Through the analysis of two literary works, I argue that 3/11 literature provides a model for Japan's emotional and physical reconstruction through its resourcefulness and alternative vision of kizuna.
This chapter recounts women’s reactions to the siege and subsequent fall of Fort Sumter and their short-lived hope that it would be the sole conflict that resulted from secession. Their cathartic moment of joy quickly evaporated when soldiers departed for Virginia, leaving them once again in a tormented state of lonely anticipation. Until the events of First Bull Run, men’s letters home expressed a jovial mood. This atmosphere changed drastically when loved ones began to die in combat. Thus, while Fort Sumter may be considered the first shot of the Civil War, it took First Bull Run for South Carolinians to realize the urgency of the conflict and finally, completely, enter the Civil War. The conclusion traces the lives of the elite white women profiled through the Civil War and its aftermath. Many of them earnestly subscribed to the Lost Cause myth after the war, writing rosy memoirs of antebellum days or joining Confederate memorial organizations. That their prewar predictions of doom and destruction do not line up with their postwar remembrances further proves that the Lost Cause mythology is divorced from the reality of the South after the Civil War.
Political possibilities closed down as the war ended in 2005. With the negotiation of the Comprehensive Peace Agreement and the death of the SPLA’s leader John Garang – which sparked riots and racialised murder across Khartoum – many people’s connections and trust in inclusive intellectual and political projects were broken. This chapter briefly surveys the aftermath of the riots and peace process, which saw a massive movement of well over a million Khartoum residents to the south, where they reconstructed a very different set of neighbourhoods that in the late 2000s were often known as New Khartoums. The secession of South Sudan in 2011 was not a panacea or end goal of the long conflicts for many of these returned Khartoum residents. Reflecting discussions with returning residents over 2012 and 2013, the chapter examines the lost possibilities of the projects they undertook in Khartoum, and the closing space for political projects and democratic communities that they discussed and worked for during the war.
This chapter asks the question: Where did Black individuals' desire for community commitment come from? The answer this, I draw on numerous primary and secondary sources starting in the Reconstruction era to show where Black voters' expectations of those representing them came from and how they shifted over time. The latter part of the chapter focuses on the Civil Rights Movement out of which many Black voters received the right to engage in politics. I contend that these new rights and those who helped acquire them for the Black community created the lens through which most Black people see effective leadership today, and solidified the desire for representatives willing to put their lives on the line for the sake of the racial group's progress.