Cultural Studies: Theory and Practice

Cultural Studies: Theory and Practice

Cultural Studies: Theory and Practice

HOEL


Concepts are tools for thinking and acting in the world.

« Les concepts sont des outils pour penser et agir dans le monde. »

…cultural studies is a body of theory generated by thinkers who regard the production of theoretical knowledge as a political practice.

« …les cultural studies sont un corps de théorie généré par des penseurs qui regardent la production de connaissances théoriques comme une pratique politique. »

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Cultural studies is an interdisciplinary field in which perspectives from different disciplines can be selectively drawn on to examine the relations of culture and power.

« Les cultural studies sont un champ interdisciplinaire dans lequel des perspectives de différentes disciplines peuvent être sélectivement retenues pour examiner les relations entre culture et pouvoir. »

‘Cultural studies is concerned with all those practices, institutions and systems of classification through which there are inculcated in a population particular values, beliefs, competencies, routines of life and habitual forms of conduct’ (Bennett, 1998: 28).

« ‘Les cultural studies sont concernées par toutes ces pratiques, institutions et systèmes de classification au travers desquels sont inculquées dans une population des valeurs particulières, des croyances, des compétences, des routines de vie et des formes habituelles de conduite’ (Bennett, 1998:28). »

The forms of power that cultural studies explores are diverse and include gender, race, class, colonialism, etc. Cultural studies seeks to explore the connections between these forms of power and to develop ways of thinking about culture and power that can be utilized by agents in the pursuit of change.

« Les formes de pouvoir que les cultural studies explorent sont diverses et incluent le genre, la race, la classe, le colonialisme, etc. Les cultural studies cherchent à explorer les connexions entre ces formes de pouvoir et à développer des façons de penser à propos de la culture et du pouvoir qui puissent être utilisées par des agents à la poursuite de changement. »

The prime institutional sites for cultural studies are those of higher education, and as such, cultural studies is like other academic disciplines. Nevertheless, it tries to forge connections outside of the academy with social and political movements, workers in cultural institutions, and cultural management.

« Les principaux sites institutionnels pour les cultural studies sont ceux de l’enseignement supérieur, et à ce titre, les cultural studies sont comme les autres disciplines universitaires. Néanmoins, elles essaient de forger des connexions à l’extérieur de l’université avec les mouvements sociaux et politiques, les travailleurs dans les institutions culturelles et le management culturel. »

Chris Barker & Emma A. Jane

La classe de danse (Edgar Degas, 1875)

                                … what is at stake is the connection that cultural studies seeks to make to matters of power and cultural politics. That is, to an exploration of representations of and ‘for’ marginalized social groups and the need for cultural change.

Given the title of this book – Cultural Studies: Theory and Practice – it would be reasonable to expect a comprehensive account of cultural studies, including summaries and discussions of its main arguments and substantive sites of intellectual enquiry. Indeed, this is what has been attempted. However, we want to open this account of cultural studies with a kind of ‘health warning’ regarding the scope of the book.

CONCERNING THIS BOOK

Selectivity

Any book about cultural studies is necessarily selective and likely to engender debate, argument and even conflict. […] …this book, like all others, is implicated in constructing a particular version of cultural studies. […]

This book is a selective account because it stresses a certain type of cultural studies. In particular, we explore that version of cultural studies which places language at its heart. The kind of cultural studies influenced by poststructuralist theories of language, representation and subjectivity is given greater attention than a cultural studies more concerned with the ethnography of lived experience or with cultural policy. Nevertheless, both do receive attention and we are personally supportive of both. […]

The title of this book is somewhat over-ambitious in its claims. Not only is this a selective account of cultural studies, it is also one that draws very largely from work developed in Britain, the United States, Continental Europe (most notably France) and Australia. We draw very little from the growing body of work in Africa, Asia and Latin America. As such, it would be more accurate to call this text ‘western cultural studies’. […]

The language-game of cultural studies […]

Concepts are tools for thinking and acting in the world.

Cultural studies as politics

It remains difficult to pin down the boundaries of cultural studies as a coherent, unified,  academic discipline with clear-cut substantive topics, concepts and methods that differentiate it from other disciplines. Cultural studies has always been a multi- or post-disciplinary field of enquiry which blurs the boundaries between itself and other ‘subjects’. It is not physics, it is not sociology and it is not linguistics, though it draws upon these subject areas. Indeed, there must be, as Hall (1992a) argues, something at stake in cultural studies that differentiates it from other subject areas.

For Hall, what is at stake is the connection that cultural studies seeks to make to matters of power and cultural politics. That is, to an exploration of representations of and ‘for’ marginalized social groups and the need for cultural change. Hence, cultural studies is a body of theory generated by thinkers who regard the production of theoretical knowledge as a political practice. Here, knowledge is never a neutral or objective phenomenon but a matter of positionality, that is, of the place from which one speaks, to whom, and for what purposes. […]

In this book, we support the idea that cultural studies provides a useful way to think about and engage in cultural politics, but we do not wish to be prescriptive about the form these politics might take. We accept that the notion of ‘progressive’ social change is not commonsensical or self-evident, but varies from person to person. Our aim, therefore, is to offer various conceptual and theoretical architectures that might be useful for thinking about and attempting to effect cultural change, but to leave open the question about what these changes ought to be. […]

THE PARAMETERS OF CULTURAL STUDIES

There is a difference between the study of culture and institutionally located cultural studies. The study of culture has taken place in a variety of academic disciplines (sociology, anthropology, English literature, etc.) and in a range of geographical and institutional spaces. However, this is not to be understood as cultural studies. The study of culture has no origins, and to locate one is to exclude other possible starting points. Nevertheless this does not mean that cultural studies cannot be named and its key concepts identified.

Cultural studies is a discursive formation, that is, ‘a cluster (or formation) of ideas, images and practices, which provide ways of talking about, forms of knowledge and conduct associated with, a particular topic, social activity or institutional site in society’ (Hall, 1997a: 6). Cultural studies is constituted by a regulated way of speaking about objects (which it brings into view) and coheres around key concepts, ideas and concerns. Further, cultural studies had a moment at which it named itself, even though that naming marks only a cut or snapshot of an ever-evolving intellectual project. […]

Disciplining cultural studies

Many cultural studies practitioners oppose forging disciplinary boundaries for the field. However, it is hard to see how this can be resisted if cultural studies wants to survive by attracting degree students and funding (as opposed to being only a postgraduate research activity). In that context, Bennett (1998) offers his ‘element of a definition’ of cultural studies:

  • Cultural studies is an interdisciplinary field in which perspectives from different disciplines can be selectively drawn on to examine the relations of culture and power.
  • ‘Cultural studies is concerned with all those practices, institutions and systems of classification through which there are inculcated in a population particular values, beliefs, competencies, routines of life and habitual forms of conduct’ (Bennett, 1998: 28).
  • The forms of power that cultural studies explores are diverse and include gender, race, class, colonialism, etc. Cultural studies seeks to explore the connections between these forms of power and to develop ways of thinking about culture and power that can be utilized by agents in the pursuit of change.
  • The prime institutional sites for cultural studies are those of higher education, and as such, cultural studies is like other academic disciplines. Nevertheless, it tries to forge connections outside of the academy with social and political movements, workers in cultural institutions, and cultural management.
Criticizing cultural studies

Cultural studies has been criticized for, among other alleged problems, theoretical dilettante-ism, a lack of rigorous scientific method, an ahistorical focus on only contemporary readings of popular mass media texts, and being little more than a fad. Of particular provocation is cultural studies’ challenge to the idea that there exists a single objective reality or truth (see Chapters 2, 3, 6 and 7). The philosopher Roger Scruton uses this as the basis for his claim that, ‘Reason is now on the retreat, both as an ideal and as a reality’ (1999), while Harry G. Frankfurt, another contemporary philosopher, dismisses this approach to thinking as nothing less than ‘bullshit’ (2005).

In some cases, criticisms of cultural studies seem to have a degree of legitimacy – not least because some critiques come from scholars within the field itself. Graeme Turner, for instance, argues that contemporary cultural studies has lost track of its central goal of operating with political and moral purpose for the public good (2012: 12). Even Hall – one of the founding figures in the field – speaks of cultural studies as containing ‘a lot of rubbish’ (cited in Taylor, 2007). In others cases, however, attacks can be read as supporting the central cultural studies claim that there exists strong resistance to the notion that ‘low’ or mass popular culture be considered as seriously as those ‘high’ cultural forms that have traditionally been appreciated only by the elite. Consider, for example, the American literary critic Harold Bloom who views cultural studies as an ‘incredible absurdity’ and as yet another example of the ‘arrogance… of the semi-learned’ (cited in Gritz, 2003). […]

KEY CONCEPTS IN CULTURAL STUDIES

Culture and signifying practices

Cultural studies would not warrant its name without a focus on culture (Chapter 2). As Hall puts it, ‘By culture, here we mean the actual grounded terrain of practices, representations, languages and customs of any specific society. We also mean the contradictory forms of common sense which have taken root in and helped to shape popular life’ (1996c: 439). Culture is concerned with questions of shared social meanings, that is, the various ways we make sense of the world. However, meanings are not simply floating ‘out there’; rather, they are generated through signs, most notably those of language.

Cultural studies has argued that language is not a neutral medium for the formation of meanings and understanding about an independent object world whose meanings exist outside of language. Rather, it is constitutive of those very meanings and knowledge. That is, language gives meaning to material objects and social practices that are brought into view by language and made intelligible to us in terms that language delimits. These processes of meaning production are signifying practices. In order to understand culture, we need to explore how meaning is produced symbolically in language as a ‘signifying system’ (Chapter 3).

Representation

A good deal of cultural studies is centred on questions of representation; that is, on how the world is socially constructed and represented to and by us in meaningful ways. Indeed, the central strand of cultural studies can be understood as the study of culture as the signifying practices of representation. This requires us to explore the textual generation of meaning. It also demands investigation of the modes by which meaning is produced in a variety of contexts. Further, cultural representations and meanings have a certain materiality. That is, they are embedded in sounds, inscriptions, objects, images, books, magazines and television programmes. They are produced, enacted, used and understood in specific social contexts. […]

Materialism and non-reductionism

[…] …cultural studies has been concerned with:

  • who owns and controls cultural production;
  • the distribution mechanisms for cultural products;
  • the consequences of patterns of ownership and control for contours of the cultural landscape.

Having said that, one of the central tenets of cultural studies is its non-reductionism. Culture is seen as having its own specific meanings, rules and practices which are not reducible to, or explainable solely in terms of, another category or level of a social formation. To put it in lay terms: a cultural text, artifact or phenomenon cannot be explained by one single causal factor such as ‘the economy’. […] The non-reductionism of cultural studies insists that questions of class, gender, sexuality, race, ethnicity, nation and age have their own particularities which cannot be reduced either to political economy or to each other.

Articulation

Cultural studies has deployed the concept of articulation in order to theorize the relationships between components of a social formation. This idea refers to the formation of a temporary unity between elements that do not have to go together. Articulation suggests both expressing/ representing and a ‘putting-together’. Thus, representations of gender may be ‘put-together’ with representations of race or nation so that, for example, nations are spoken of as female. This occurs in context-specific and contingent ways that cannot be predicted before the fact. The concept of articulation is also used to discuss the relationship between culture and political economy. Thus culture is said to be ‘articulated’ with moments of production but not determined in any ‘necessary’ way by that moment, and vice versa. Consequently, we might explore not only how the moment of production is inscribed in texts but also how the ‘economic’ is cultural; that is, a meaningful set of practices.

Power

Cultural studies writers generally agree on the centrality of the concept of power to the discipline. For most cultural studies writers, power is regarded as pervading every level of social relationships. Power is not simply the glue that holds the social together, or the coercive force which subordinates one set of people to another, though it certainly may involve these things. It is also understood in terms of the processes that generate and enable any form of social action, relationship or order. In this sense, power, while certainly constraining, is also enabling. Having said that, cultural studies has shown a specific concern with subordinated groups, at first with class, and later with races, genders, nations, age groups, etc.

Ideology and popular culture

Subordination is a matter not just of coercion but also of consent. Cultural studies has commonly understood popular culture to be the ground on which this consent is won or lost. As a way of grasping the interplay of power and consent, two related concepts were repeatedly deployed in cultural studies’ earlier texts, though they are less prevalent these days – namely, ideology and hegemony.

The term ‘ideology’ is commonly used to refer to maps of meaning that, while purporting to be universal truths, are actually historically specific understandings that obscure and maintain power. For example, television news produces understandings of the world that continually explain it in terms of nations, perceived as ‘naturally’ occurring objects. This may have the consequence of obscuring both the class divisions of social formations and the constructed character of nationality.

Representations of gender in advertising, which depict women as housewives or sexy bodies alone, are seen to be reducing women to those categories. As such, they may deny women their place as full human beings and citizens. The process of making, maintaining and reproducing ascendant meanings and practices has been called hegemony. Hegemony implies a situation where a ‘historical bloc’ of powerful groups exercises social authority and leadership over subordinate groups through the winning of consent.

Texts and readers

The production of consent implies popular identification with the cultural meanings generated by the signifying practices of hegemonic texts. The concept of text suggests not simply the written word, though this is one of its senses, but also all practices that signify. This includes the generation of meaning through images, sounds, objects (such as clothes) and activities (like dance and sport). Since images, sounds, objects and practices are sign systems, which signify with the same mechanism as a language, we may refer to them as cultural texts.

However, the meanings that critics read into cultural texts are not necessarily the same as those produced by active audiences or readers. Indeed, readers will not necessarily share all the same meanings with each other. Critics, in other words, are simply a particular breed of reader. Further, texts, as forms of representation, are polysemic. That is, they contain the possibility of a number of different meanings that have to be realized by actual readers who give life to words and images. We can examine the ways in which texts work, but we cannot simply ‘read-off’ audiences’ meaning production from textual analysis. At the very least, meaning is produced in the interplay between text and reader. Consequently, the moment of consumption is seen by many as a moment of meaningful production.

Subjectivity and identity

The moment of consumption marks one of the processes by which we are formed and we form ourselves as persons. What it is to be a person, viz. subjectivity, and how we describe ourselves to each other, viz. identity, became central areas of concern in cultural studies during the 1990s. In other words, cultural studies explores:

  • how we come to be the kinds of people we are;
  • how we are produced as subjects;
  • how we identify with (or emotionally invest in) descriptions of ourselves as male or female, black or white, young or old.

The argument, known as anti-essentialism, is that identities are not things that exist; they have no essential or universal qualities. Rather, they are discursive constructions, the product of discourses or regulated ways of speaking about the world. In other words, identities are constituted (made rather than found) by representations such as language. A particularly cogent example involves gender identity and the idea that gender is not something we ‘are’ but something we ‘perform’ or ‘do’ – as explored by the feminist philosopher Judith Butler (1990) (see also Chapters 7 and 9).

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KEY CONCEPTS

  • Active audiences
  • Anti-essentialism
  • Articulation
  • Cultural materialism
  • Culture
  • Discourse
  • Discursive formation
  • Hegemony
  • Identity
  • Ideology
  • Language-game
  • Political economy
  • Politics
  • Polysemy
  • Popular culture
  • Positionality
  • Power
  • Representation
  • Signifying practices
  • (the) Social
  • Social formation
  • Subjectivity
  • Texts

Chris Barker & Emma A. Jane – Cultural Studies: Theory and Practice


Hall, S. (1992a) ‘Cultural Studies and its Theoretical Legacies’ in L. Grossberg, C. Nelson and P. Treichler (eds) Cultural Studies

Hall, S. (1996c) ‘Gramsci’s Relevance for the Study of Race and Ethnicity’ in D. Morley and D.-K. Chen (eds) Stuart Hall

Hall, S. (1997a) ‘The Work of Representation’ in S. Hall (ed.) Representation

Bennett, T. (1998) Culture: A Reformer’s Science

Scruton, R. (1999) ‘What Ever Happened to Reason?’ in City Journal

Frankfurt, H. G. (2005) On Bullshit

Turner, G. (2012) What’s Become of Cultural Studies?

Taylor, L. (2007) ‘Culture’s revenge: Laurie Taylor interviews Stuart Hall’ in New Humanist

Gritz, J. R. (2003) ‘Ranting Against Cant’ in The Atlantic

Butler, J. (1990) Gender Trouble: Feminism and the Subversion of Identity

CRITICISMS OF 'CULTURAL STUDIES' :

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“Discourse, for Foucault, is the product of an epoch, and exists by virtue of the prevailing social « power. » It is what Marx called « ideology »: a collection of ideas that have no authority in themselves but that disguise and mystify the social reality. There is no more to truth than the power that finds it convenient; and by unmasking power, we disestablish truth. In any epoch, there are those who refuse the prevailing discourse. These are denounced, marginalized—even incarcerated as mad. Theirs is the voice of « unreason, » and, for those in authority, what they utter is not truth but delirium. However, Foucault makes clear, there is nothing objective in this denunciation of madness: it is no more than a device whereby the established power, the power of the bourgeois order, sustains itself, by safeguarding its own « truth » against the rival discourse that rejects it.”

Roger Scruton – ‘What Ever Happened to Reason?

“I hadn’t meant to talk to Stuart about cultural studies. But I realised that his pleas for a proper recognition of the ground upon which we operate was a way of referring to the ground-clearing work, the radical intellectual practice, that he hoped cultural studies might undertake. Was he still interested in that version of the subject?

Yes, I do want to go on thinking about cultural studies. But not as a field. I never defended it as a field. I think that as a field it contains a lot of rubbish.

Laurie Taylor – ‘Culture’s revenge: Laurie Taylor interviews Stuart Hall

“(Harold Bloom, a staunch defender of the Western literary tradition, returns to Shakespeare, « the true multicultural author. »)”

“If you spend a lifetime reading and teaching and writing, I would think that the proper attitude to take toward Shakespeare, toward Dante, toward Cervantes, toward Geoffrey Chaucer, toward Tolstoy, toward Plato—the great figures—is indeed awe, wonder, gratitude, deep appreciation. I can’t really understand any other stance in relation to them. I mean, they have formed our minds. And Hamlet is the most special of special cases. I’ve been accused of « bardolotry » so much that I’ve made a joke out of it. As I am something of a dinosaur, I’ve named myself Bloom Brontosaurus Bardolator. It’s not such a bad thing to be.

This attitude of reverence is what sets you apart from many of your colleagues. You don’t seem to belong to any particular school of literary criticism.

Well, it’s such a complex thing. I left the English department twenty-six years ago. I just divorced them and became, as I like to put it, Professor of Absolutely Nothing. To a rather considerable extent, literary studies have been replaced by that incredible absurdity called cultural studies which, as far as I can tell, are neither cultural nor are they studies. But there has always been an arrogance, I think, of the semi-learned.

You know, the term « philology » originally meant indeed a love of learning—a love of the word, a love of literature. I think the more profoundly people love and understand literature, the less likely they are to be supercilious, to feel that somehow they know more than the poems, stories, novels, and epics actually know.

And, of course, we have this nonsense called Theory with a capital T, mostly imported from the French and now having evilly taken root in the English-speaking world. And that, I suppose, also has encouraged absurd attitudes toward what we used to call imaginative literature.”

Jennie Rothenberg Gritz – ‘Ranting Against Cant

The subaltern Ulysses

The subaltern Ulysses

The subaltern Ulysses

HOEL


In 1935, John Eglinton published an account of Joyce in Irish Literary Portraits. It must have seemed to Joyce, wrote Eglinton, ‘that he held English, his country’s spiritual enemy, in the palm of his hand’. Alas, the English language ‘found itself constrained by its new master to perform tasks to which it was unaccustomed in the service of pure literature. . . . Joyce rejoiced darkly in causing the language of Milton and Wordsworth to utter all but unimaginable filth and treason.’ Eglinton argued that Ulysses was an act of ‘treason’ fuelled by an ‘ironic detachment from the whole of the English tradition.’ It was Joyce’s ‘Celtic revenge’ on the colonial power.

Andrew Gibson

« En 1935, John Eglinton publia un compte rendu sur Joyce dans Portraits littéraires irlandais. Il doit avoir semblé à Joyce, écrivait Eglinton, ‘qu’il tenait l’Anglais, l’ennemi spirituel de son pays, dans la paume de sa main’. Hélas, la langue anglaise ‘se trouvait contrainte par son nouveau maître à exécuter des tâches auxquelles elle n’était pas habituée dans le service de la littérature pure…. Joyce se réjouissait sombrement en faisant prononcer à la langue de Milton et Wordsworth toute l’obscénité et trahison inimaginable.’ Eglinton soutenait qu’Ulysse était un acte de ‘trahison’ alimenté par un ‘détachement ironique à l’égard de l’ensemble de la tradition anglaise’. C’était ‘la revanche celtique’ de Joyce sur la puissance coloniale. »


Ulysses, for reasons to do with the politics of its critical reception, has almost without exception been read as a text that ultimately despised the city, the people, and the would-be nation in which, paradoxically, it shows an obsessive interest. I, rather, will read it as the starred text of an Irish national literature. It plays the same decisive role in redefining the issues at stake in imagining an Irish national identity as, to choose at random, Shakespeare’s Henry IV or Austen’s Pride and Prejudice does for the English, Cervantes’s Don Quixote does for the Spanish, or Melville’s Moby Dick does for the American sense of nationhood.

Enda Duffy

« Ulysse, pour des raisons qui ont à voir avec la politique de sa réception critique, a presque sans exception été lu comme un texte qui en définitive méprisait la ville, le peuple et l’aspirante nation pour lesquels, paradoxalement, il montre un intérêt obsessionnel. Je le lirai plutôt comme le texte majeur d’une littérature nationale irlandaise. Il joue le même rôle décisif de redéfinir les questions en jeu dans l’imagination d’une identité nationale irlandaise que, pour choisir au hasard, le Henry IV de Shakespeare ou le Pride and Prejudice de Jane Austen pour le sens anglais de la nation, le Don Quixote de Cervantes pour l’espagnol ou le Moby Dick de Melville pour l’américain. »


For Joyce, language itself – the medium of his art – was inescapably structured by colonialism and nationalism, and he consistently embedded the complexities of colonialism and nationalism in particular words.

Marjorie Howes

« Pour Joyce, le langage lui-même – le medium de son art – était inéluctablement structuré par le colonialisme et le nationalisme, et il incorpora systématiquement les complexités du colonialisme et du nationalisme dans des mots particuliers. »

       Ulysses and the Sirens (Herbert James Draper, v.1909)

                               Might an IRA bomb and Joyce’s Ulysses have anything in common? How might an IRA terrorist read Ulysses? Or how might a victim of terrorism read the novel, given the opportunity? How can Irish people generally read the novel? Could it be placed at the heart of an Irish national literature?

In 1935, John Eglinton published an account of Joyce in Irish Literary Portraits. It must have seemed to Joyce, wrote Eglinton, ‘that he held English, his country’s spiritual enemy, in the palm of his hand’. Alas, the English language ‘found itself constrained by its new master to perform tasks to which it was unaccustomed in the service of pure literature. . . . Joyce rejoiced darkly in causing the language of Milton and Wordsworth to utter all but unimaginable filth and treason.’ Eglinton argued that Ulysses was an act of ‘treason’ fuelled by an ‘ironic detachment from the whole of the English tradition.’ It was Joyce’s ‘Celtic revenge’ on the colonial power.

Andrew Gibson – Joyce’s Revenge. History, Politics, and Aesthetics in Ulysses

My dear Joyce,

I’ve been studying you and thinking over you a lot. The outcome is that I don’t think I can do anything for the propaganda of your work [Work in ProgressFinnegans Wake]. I’ve an enormous respect for your genius dating from your earliest books and I feel now a great personal liking for you but you and I are set upon absolutely different courses. Your training has been Catholic, Irish, insurrectionary; mine, such as it was, was scientific, constructive and, I suppose, English. The frame of my mind is a world wherein a big unifying and concentrating process is possible (increase of power and range by economy and concentration of effort), a progress not inevitable but interesting and possible. That game attracted and holds me. For it, I want language and statement as simple and clear as possible. You began Catholic, that is to say you began with a system of values in stark opposition to reality. Your mental existence is obsessed by a monstrous system of contradictions. You really believe in chastity, purity and the personal God and that is why you are always breaking out into cries of cunt, shit and hell. As I dont believe in these things except as quite provincial values my mind has never been shocked to outcries by the existence of waterclosets and menstrual bandages—and undeserved misfortunes. And while you were brought up under the delusion of political suppression I was brought up under the delusion of political responsibility. It seems a fine thing for you to defy and break up. To me not in the least.

Now with regard to this literary experiment of yours. It’s a considerable thing because you are a very considerable man and you have in your crowded composition a mighty genius for expression which has escaped discipline. But I don’t think it gets anywhere. You have turned your back on common men, on their elementary needs and their restricted time and intelligence and you have elaborated. What is the result? Vast riddles. Your last two works have been more amusing and exciting to write than they will ever be to read. Take me as a typical common reader. Do I get much pleasure from this work? No. Do I feel I am getting something new and illuminating as I do when I read Anrep’s dreadful translation of Pavlov’s badly written book on Conditioned Reflexes? No. So I ask: Who the hell is this Joyce who demands so many waking hours of the few thousands I have still to live for a proper appreciation of his quirks and fancies and flashes of rendering?

All this from my point of view. Perhaps you are right and I am all wrong. Your work is an extraordinary experiment and I would go out of my way to save it from destruction or restrictive interruption. It has its believers and its following. Let them rejoice in it. To me it is a dead end.

My warmest good wishes to you Joyce. I cant follow your banner any more than you can follow mine. But the world is wide and there is room for both of us to be wrong.

Yours
H. G. Wells

in James Joyce, Richard Ellmann

Might an IRA bomb and Joyce’s Ulysses have anything in common? How might an IRA terrorist read Ulysses? Or how might a victim of terrorism read the novel, given the opportunity? How can Irish people generally read the novel? Could it be placed at the heart of an Irish national literature? As it has always been seen in some sense as an exception among the masterpieces of patriarchal modernism, could this be because it stage-manages a different kind of intervention within the realities of nation, race, class, even gender? Could its difference make it the representative text, even the original text, of a different strand of modernist writing? The recent history of critical responses to the venerable monolith « modernism » has been characterized by a successive uncovering of modernisms previously unseen; here modernist women’s writing and African-American modernism are exemplary. Exploring the relation of Ulysses to the colony in which it is set, and the nation that was emerging from that colony at the moment the novel was being written, might we uncover a postcolonial modernism? Could this postcolonial textuality have its origin in early twentieth-century Irish writing, given that the Irish Free State, European yet marginal, was the first postcolonial nation to gain independence from the British Empire in the modern period?

I want to reclaim Ulysses in these terms for Irish readers as the text of Ireland’s independence, and by doing so, return it to readers everywhere as a novel preoccupied, in ways not suspected heretofore by its metropolitan critics, with both the means by which oppressed communities fight their way out of abjection and the potential pitfalls of anticolonial struggles. Ulysses, for reasons to do with the politics of its critical reception, has almost without exception been read as a text that ultimately despised the city, the people, and the would-be nation in which, paradoxically, it shows an obsessive interest. I, rather, will read it as the starred text of an Irish national literature. It plays the same decisive role in redefining the issues at stake in imagining an Irish national identity as, to choose at random, Shakespeare’s Henry IV or Austen’s Pride and Prejudice does for the English, Cervantes’s Don Quixote does for the Spanish, or Melville’s Moby Dick does for the American sense of nationhood. Each of these texts derives its resonance in part from the way in which each accentuates elements at stake in a nexus of material and ideological forces becoming manifest in England, Spain, and the United States at the historical moment when each was written. Henry IV educates its readers in the cohesive potential of nascent British nationalism, Pride and Prejudice reworks aristocratic matrimonial codes for its newly monied bourgeois readers, Don Quixote dwells on the foolishness of traces of feudal decorum to a new renaissance merchant class, and Moby Dick recasts the masculine explorer narrative in a grandiloquent American grain. In the case of Ulysses the convergence of a historic national transformation and its literary reworking is marked extraordinarily clearly. Joyce’s novel was written, as its very last words (beyond the famous syllabic chain of « Yes … yes … yes ») inform us, between 1914 and 1921, which was exactly the period in which Ireland gained its independence from Britain in a bloody rebellion and anticolonial guerrilla war. These crucial years in modern Irish history witnessed the Irish Volunteer mobilization and gunrunning of 1914, the Easter rebellion in 1916, when whole streets of north-central Dublin were destroyed by shells and over four hundred people were killed, the setting up of the secessionist Sinn Fein Irish parliament in Dublin in 1918, and the guerrilla War of Independence of 1919-21. This war ended with the Anglo-Irish treaty of 1921 that led to the establishment of an independent Irish state. It is striking to think of Joyce writing in 1916 about Bloom wandering down Dublin streets that had already been half destroyed in the Rising. (O’Connell Street, Henry Street, Moore Street, Middle Abbey Street, and Eden Quay all suffered severe damage; in all, there were three thousand casualties in the Easter Rising alone). Ulysses, written during the same seven years, encodes successive reactions to the events occurring in Ireland. For example, « Circe, » the phantasmagoric tour de force and the episode that is the climax of the novel, was written in nine anguished drafts between June and December 1920 while the Irish guerrilla War of Independence was at its height. The book, which was published in Paris one month before the treaty that guaranteed Irish independence was signed in London, is nothing less, I suggest, than the book of Irish postcolonial independence. That it has not been acknowledged as such before this bespeaks the power of New Critical interpretation, which has had an unspoken ideological interest in sustaining an anational cadre, unsullied by any specific politics, of high modernist texts.

Enda Duffy – The subaltern Ulysses

Joyce’s life spans a period in history in which material conditions, political structures, and intellectual life throughout the world were profoundly shaped by the growth and decline of European empires and the flourishing of various nationalisms, both imperialist and anti-imperialist. When Joyce was born in 1882 the ‘scramble for Africa’, and the era that one historian has called the ‘age of empire’, had just begun. When he died in 1941 the world was engulfed in the Second World War, a conflict that would fundamentally alter the balance of global power, and the age of decolonization was under way. A good deal of recent Joyce scholarship has explored Joyce’s relation to this historical trajectory. Much of this scholarship is informed by debates in post-colonial studies, the academic field most explicitly committed to examining the complex set of issues we can group under the headings of ‘colonialism’ and ‘nationalism’. Colonialism and nationalism were among the period’s most visible and important sources of conflict and change, and were the subjects of much discussion and debate. At the same time, they were so important and pervasive – both as realities and as ideologies – that they became part of contemporary conceptions of ‘reality’ and ‘common sense’ and supplied many of the unspoken rules and assumptions of the time. Post-colonial scholars study colonialism and nationalism in their visibility, as the subjects of explicit discussion and struggle, and in their invisibility, as the secret structures that underlie much of Western intellectual and political life. Ireland’s double status – as both an agent and a victim of British imperialism – is important to any investigation of how Joyce’s works engage with these issues. Equally important is Joyce’s interest in the international and global dimensions of colonialism and nationalism, and his insistence on the many internal divisions and local variations within Ireland. To grasp the full significance of colonialism and nationalism in Joyce’s writing, we must examine the methods he uses to traverse and connect these different horizons and contexts.

One of these methods operates on the level of the individual word. For Joyce, language itself – the medium of his art – was inescapably structured by colonialism and nationalism, and he consistently embedded the complexities of colonialism and nationalism in particular words.

Marjorie Howes – Joyce, colonialism, and nationalism

(The Cambridge Companion to James Joyce)

Marilyn Monroe reading Joyce’s Ulysses at the Playground - Eve Arnold (1955)

“We worked on a beach on Long Island. She was visiting Norman Rosten the poet. As far as I remember (it is some thirty years ago) I asked her what she was reading when I went to pick her up (I was trying to get an idea of how she spent her time). She said she kept Ulysses in her car and had been reading it for a long time. She said she loved the sound of it and would read it aloud to herself to try to make sense of it—but she found it hard going. She couldn’t read it consecutively. When we stopped at a local playground to photograph she got out the book and started to read while I loaded the film. So, of course, I photographed her. It was always a collaborative effort of photographer and subject where she was concerned—but almost more her input.”

Eve Arnold, cited by Richard Brown

‘Marilyn Monroe Reading Ulysses. Goddess or Post-Cultural Cyborg?’,  in Joyce and Popular Culture

Saving Languages

Saving Languages

Saving Languages

An Introduction to Language Revitalization

HOEL


Over the past fifty years and with increasing frequency, innovative programs have appeared around the world with the aim of revitalizing languages that are at risk of disappearing due to declining numbers of native speakers. The nature of these initiatives varies as greatly as the languages that are their targets. In some instances, they are nearly national in scope, such as the efforts to preserve Irish, yet in other instances they involve small communities or even a handful of motivated individuals. Many of these programs are connected to claims of territorial sovereignty, though cultural sovereignty or a desire to maintain a unique ethnic identity is just as often the explicit goal. […]

The sheer number of threatened languages cannot alone explain the ever-expanding number of language revitalization initiatives. To this we must add a second major socio-historical shift, the general trend towards recognizing the rights of minorities, both as individuals and as groups, within modern nation-states. Particularly since the end of the Cold War, there has been a collapse of hegemonic patterns in many portions of the world that had actively, and explicitly, worked to suppress cultural difference, and as a consequence in many places ethnic groups and minorities have increased flexibility in pursuing their own political agendas (Kymlicka 1995). In a very real sense minority communities have been emboldened to pursue territorial, political, and cultural rights. […]

Since language is a visible and powerful indicator of group identity, it has accurately been recognized as an important way to maintain links with one’s cultural past and to protect one’s cultural uniqueness in the present.

Lenore A. Grenoble & Lindsay J. Whaley

« Au cours des cinquante dernières années et de plus en plus fréquemment, des programmes novateurs ont été publiés dans le monde entier dans le but de revitaliser des langues qui sont menacées de disparaître du fait du nombre déclinant de locuteurs natifs. La nature de ces initiatives varie aussi grandement que les langues qui sont leurs cibles. Dans certains cas, elles sont presque d’envergure nationale, comme les efforts pour préserver l’irlandais, mais dans d’autres cas elles impliquent de petites communautés ou même une poignée d’individus motivés. Nombre de ces programmes sont liés à des revendications de souveraineté territoriale, bien que la souveraineté culturelle ou le désir de maintenir une identité ethnique unique soit tout aussi souvent le but explicite. […]

Le nombre même de langues menacées ne peut seul expliquer le nombre toujours croissant d’initiatives de revitalisation linguistique. A cela nous devons ajouter un second changement socio-historique majeur, la tendance générale vers la reconnaissance des droits des minorités, aussi bien en tant qu’individus qu’en tant que groupes, au sein des États-nations modernes. Particulièrement depuis la fin de la Guerre Froide, il y a eu un effondrement des modèles hégémoniques dans de nombreuses parties du monde qui avaient activement et explicitement travaillé à supprimer la différence culturelle, et en conséquence, dans de nombreux endroits des groupes ethniques et des minorités ont davantage de souplesse dans la poursuite de leurs propres agendas politiques (Kymlicka 1995). Dans un sens très réel des communautés minoritaires ont été enhardies à poursuivre des droits territoriaux, politiques et culturels. […]

La langue étant un indicateur visible et puissant de l’identité d’un groupe, elle a été précisément reconnue comme un moyen important de maintenir les liens avec son passé culturel et de protéger son originalité culturelle dans le présent. »

Jeunes filles Maori
CULTURAL RIGHTS

« Les droits culturels, cadre propice à la diversité culturelle »

« Les droits culturels sont partie intégrante des droits de l’homme, qui sont universels, indissociables et interdépendants. L’épanouissement d’une diversité créatrice exige la pleine réalisation des droits culturels, tels qu’ils sont définis à l’article 27 de la Déclaration universelle des droits de l’homme et aux articles 13 et 15 du Pacte international relatif aux droits économiques, sociaux et culturels. Toute personne doit ainsi pouvoir s’exprimer, créer et diffuser ses oeuvres dans la langue de son choix et en particulier dans sa langue maternelle ; toute personne a le droit à une éducation et une formation de qualité qui respectent pleinement son identité culturelle ; toute personne doit pouvoir participer à la vie culturelle de son choix et exercer ses propres pratiques culturelles, dans les limites qu’impose le respect des droits de l’homme et des libertés fondamentales. »

“Cultural rights as an enabling environment for cultural diversity”

“Cultural rights are an integral part of human rights, which are universal, indivisible and interdependent. The flourishing of creative diversity requires the full implementation of cultural rights as defined in Article 27 of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights and in Articles 13 and 15 of the International Covenant on Economic, Social and Cultural Rights. All persons have therefore the right to express themselves and to create and disseminate their work in the language of their choice, and particularly in their mother tongue; all persons are entitled to quality education and training that fully respect their cultural identity; and all persons have the right to participate in the cultural life of their choice and conduct their own cultural practices, subject to respect for human rights and fundamental freedoms.”

UNESCO Universal Declaration on Cultural Diversity – Article 5

This book is designed for readers of various backgrounds who are interested in the fate of small language communities around the globe: linguists, anthropologists, and academics in other disciplines; language activists, missionaries, humanitarian workers, policy makers, and educators; journalists and researchers; students; and visionaries who believe that it is possible to hear their language spoken for many centuries to come in the face of many who claim otherwise. With this diversity of readers in mind, our goal was to write a book that would serve as a general reference guide to language revitalization, providing the necessary background, highlighting the central issues, indicating common obstacles, and pointing to sources of further information.

Our own experiences with language revitalization efforts have come primarily through fieldwork in east Asia on several Tungusic languages (all of which are undergoing rapid loss in the number of native speakers), and secondarily through long-term relationships and professional collaborations with fieldworkers and activists in Africa, South America, and North America, particularly the United States. This background has sensitized us to several important facts. First, although many similarities can be found in the causes of language loss around the world, this does not mean that similar approaches to language revitalization can be taken. There are simply too many differences in the political, social, and economic situations facing, say, a community in northern China versus one in southern Africa to make blanket statements about how revitalization should be carried out. Second, an honest evaluation of most language revitalization efforts to date will show that they have failed. There have been enough success stories to warrant optimism about the possibilities of taking a moribund (or extinct) language and moving it to a more vital state, but this is atypical. Creating an orthography or producing a television program for children in a local language is a major accomplishment in its own right, but it will not revitalize a language. A longer-term, multifaceted program, one which requires a range of resources and much personal dedication, is needed. Third, government policies affecting language use in public (or even private) realms are one of the two most basic forces that hinder (or help) language revitalization, the other being the connection that people make between language use and economic well-being for their family. Finally, where successes do occur in language revitalization, they result, perhaps without exception, from the efforts of people who want to speak a local language, and want their friends and neighbors to as well. Even with the best of intentions, an outsider entering into an endangered language situation with the goal of ‘‘saving it’’ will fail. This is not to say that outsiders do not have something important to contribute, such as linguistic expertise, connections to funding sources, moral support, and so on. They do, and their contributions are often vital to a program. But, that said, it is the members of the community where the revitalization is going on who need to be highly invested in the outcome. They need to control decision making; they need to take ownership of the effort and construct the revitalization program which suits their ambitions, needs, and resources.

The lessons from our own experience have greatly influenced the content and tone of this book. We have tried to present practical recommendations without giving the sense that there are guaranteed methods to language revitalization. We have tried to underscore the complexity of factors that must be addressed in expanding the domains where a local language is spoken without overwhelming the reader. And we have tried to keep in mind the balance between thoughtful planning in revitalization and the urgency facing speech communities where fewer and fewer people speak a language that used to be widely employed. […]

The present work is by no means the only resource on language revitalization. There are many. Hinton and Hale’s (2001) The green book of language revitalization in practice is perhaps the closest in spirit to our own work and contains a wealth of insights from people who have been deeply involved in designing language revitalization programs. Joshua Fishman, of course, has been instrumental in raising awareness about language endangerment and how communities can counteract the forces that lead to language shift. His 1991 book Reversing language shift: Theoretical and empirical foundations of assistance to threatened languages is already a classic and should be read by anyone with interests in the question of language revitalization. There are many collections of articles that explore the issues surrounding revitalization. Three of the more recent are Fishman (2001), Bradley and Bradley (2002), and Janse and Tol (2003). There are also a number of excellent books and articles dealing with language revitalization in specific regions of the world. Three that we have found highly instructive are: Amery (2000), King (2001), and Hinton et al. (2002). […]

Over the past fifty years and with increasing frequency, innovative programs have appeared around the world with the aim of revitalizing languages that are at risk of disappearing due to declining numbers of native speakers. The nature of these initiatives varies as greatly as the languages that are their targets. In some instances, they are nearly national in scope, such as the efforts to preserve Irish, yet in other instances they involve small communities or even a handful of motivated individuals. Many of these programs are connected to claims of territorial sovereignty, though cultural sovereignty or a desire to maintain a unique ethnic identity is just as often the explicit goal. While in one context a revitalization effort may be centered around formal education, in another it may be focused on creating environments in which the language can be used on a regular basis.

Although tremendous variety characterizes the methods of and motives for reinvigorating languages, revitalization, as a general phenomenon, is growing and has become an issue of global proportion. There are now hundreds of endangered languages, and there are few regions of the world where one will not find at least nascent attempts at language revitalization. This comes as little surprise when considered in light of the confluence of several socio-historical factors. First, language death and moribundity (i.e. the cessation of children learning a language) are occurring at an exceptionally rapid rate. While the precise number of languages in the world is difficult to determine (see Crystal 2000:2–11 for a concise discussion), and predicting the total number of languages that will cease to be spoken is harder still (Whaley 2003), there is a general consensus that at least half of the world’s 6,000–7,000 languages will disappear (or be on the verge of disappearing) in the next century. As Crystal (2000:19) points out, ‘‘To meet that time frame, at least one language must die, on average, every two weeks or so,’’ a startling fact, to say the least. […]

The sheer number of threatened languages cannot alone explain the ever-expanding number of language revitalization initiatives. To this we must add a second major socio-historical shift, the general trend towards recognizing the rights of minorities, both as individuals and as groups, within modern nation-states. Particularly since the end of the Cold War, there has been a collapse of hegemonic patterns in many portions of the world that had actively, and explicitly, worked to suppress cultural difference, and as a consequence in many places ethnic groups and minorities have increased flexibility in pursuing their own political agendas (Kymlicka 1995). In a very real sense minority communities have been emboldened to pursue territorial, political, and cultural rights. Though this has meant a burgeoning number of ethnic conflicts (Moynihan 1993), it has also meant rethinking human rights at a basic level to include the protection of such things as the choice of language. Consider, as just one example, language from Article 5 of UNESCO’s Universal Declaration on Cultural Diversity, which states: ‘‘All persons should therefore be able to express themselves and to create and disseminate their work in the language of their choice, and particularly in their mother tongue; all persons should be entitled to quality education and training that fully respect their cultural identity.’’ Similar statements can be found in declarations from many transnational organizations, such as the European Union, the Organization for American States, and the Organization for African Unity, as well as in recent legislation in a number of countries. Though the effectiveness of these proclamations and laws in ensuring cultural rights is a matter of some debate, there is little doubt that they have encouraged ethnic communities around the world to pursue activities that assert their cultural identities, and these activities often include programs to promote heritage language use.

A less understood factor that has had a role in the increased interest in language revitalization is ‘‘globalization.’’ […]  Since language is a visible and powerful indicator of group identity, it has accurately been recognized as an important way to maintain links with one’s cultural past and to protect one’s cultural uniqueness in the present.

Lenore A. Grenoble & Lindsay J. Whaley – Saving Languages. An Introduction to Language Revitalization


Fishman (2001) – Can threatened languages be saved ?

Bradley and Bradley (2002) –  Language endangerment and language maintenance

Janse and Tol (2003) –  Language death and language maintenance. Theoretical, practical and descriptive approaches

Amery (2000) – Warrabarna Kaurna! Reclaiming an Australian language

King (2001) –  ‘Te Kohanga Reo: Maori language revitalization’. In Hinton and Hale, eds., 119–28 (The green book of language revitalization in practice)

Hinton et al. (2002) – How to keep your language alive

Crystal (2000) – Language death

Whaley (2003) – ‘The future of native languages’. Futures 35:961–73

Kymlicka (1995) – The rights of minority cultures

Moynihan (1993) –  Pandemonium: Ethnicity in international politics

Kwak'wala language teacher Joye Walkus (TEDx Talks)

REVIEW :

~

“The second chapter offers an overview of the various factors that affect language endangerment. It develops an analytical framework for characterizing any individual situation. A distinction is made between macrovariables, which include factors such as the global economy or national language and education policies, and microvariables such as language attitudes, religion, literacy, human resources in the communities (i.e. people and their skills), and financial resources. A short case study of Cornish illustrates how many of the factors may interact. […]

Ch. 3 discusses different types of revitalization programs. One type is the total immersion approach, exemplified by the Māori ‘language nests’. Since the 1980s, Māori elders have been coming to preschools to speak Māori with children. This was followed up by schools where students receive all instruction in Māori. Similar programs have been established for Hawaiian and Mohawk. The learners involved in total immersion may be children or adults. G&W discuss advantages and disadvantages with regard to either choice of target generation but do not take a stance on which choice is to be preferred when both are possible. Partial immersion, where the local language is only used for some instruction, is encountered more frequently but works less well. A third type is the master-apprentice programs developed in 1992 in California. Here, an elder who still speaks the language is paired with a learner and the teaching takes place entirely through the oral medium and in real-life situations. […]

The story of the Mohawk language program in Kahnawà:ke, Québec, Canada, is one of dedicated community members who, since 1970, have been building up a program of language immersion. Ironically, it was the policies intended to support another language that spurred the establishement of the Kahnawà:ke Survival School in 1978. Two years earlier, a new legislation had made French the only official language of Québec.”

Søren Wichmann :  Language (Volume 84, Number 4, December 2008)

The ‘Glorious Revolution’

The ‘Glorious Revolution’

The 'Glorious Revolution'

HOEL


England’s Glorious Revolution of 1688–89 holds a special place in our understanding of the modern world and the revolutions that had a hand in shaping it. For the better part of three centuries scholars and public intellectuals identified England’s Revolution of 1688–89 as a defining moment in England’s exceptional history. Political philosophers have associated it with the origins of liberalism. Sociologists […]. Historians […]. Scholars of literature and culture […]. All of these interpretations derive their power from a deeply held and widely repeated narrative of England’s Revolution of 1688–89. Unfortunately, that narrative is wrong. Replacing that historical narrative with a new one will necessarily force us to revise many of the basic historical, political, moral, and sociological categories we use to make sense of the modern world. […]

The Revolution of 1688–89 is important not because it reaffirmed the exceptional English national character but because it was a landmark moment in the emergence of the modern state.

Steven C. A. Pincus

« La Glorieuse Révolution anglaise de 1688-89 occupe une place particulière dans notre compréhension du monde moderne et des révolutions qui ont joué un rôle dans son façonnement. Durant la majeure partie de trois siècles, savants et intellectuels publics ont identifié la Révolution anglaise de 1688-89 comme un moment caractéristique dans l’histoire exceptionnelle de l’Angleterre. Les philosophes politiques l’ont associée à l’origine du libéralisme. Les sociologues […]. Les historiens […]. Les spécialistes de la littérature et de la culture […]. Toutes ces interprétations tirent leur pouvoir d’un récit profondément ancré et largement répété de la Révolution anglaise de 1688-89. Malheureusement, ce récit est faux. Remplacer ce récit historique par un nouveau nous obligera forcément à revoir nombre des catégories historiques, politiques, morales et sociologiques fondamentales dont nous nous servons pour faire sens du monde moderne. […]

La Révolution de 1688-89 est importante non parce qu’elle réaffirma l’exceptionnel caractère national anglais mais parce que ce fut un moment charnière dans l’émergence de l’État moderne. »

William III (Portrait attribué à Thomas Murray, v. 1690)

            … the English experience is not exceptional but in fact typical (if precocious) of states experiencing modern revolutions. The Revolution of 1688–89 is important not because it reaffirmed the exceptional English national character but because it was a landmark moment in the emergence of the modern state.

England’s Glorious Revolution of 1688–89 holds a special place in our understanding of the modern world and the revolutions that had a hand in shaping it. For the better part of three centuries scholars and public intellectuals identified England’s Revolution of 1688–89 as a defining moment in England’s exceptional history. Political philosophers have associated it with the origins of liberalism. Sociologists have contrasted it with the French, Russian, and Chinese revolutions. Historians have pointed to the Revolution as confirming the unusual nature of the English state. Scholars of literature and culture highlight the Revolution of 1688–89 as an important moment in defining English common sense and moderation. All of these interpretations derive their power from a deeply held and widely repeated narrative of England’s Revolution of 1688–89. Unfortunately, that narrative is wrong. Replacing that historical narrative with a new one will necessarily force us to revise many of the basic historical, political, moral, and sociological categories we use to make sense of the modern world. This book aims to explain both the ways in which this traditional view is mistaken and why that view has been so widely accepted for such a long time. The old narrative emphasized the Revolution of 1688–89 as a great moment in which the English defended their unique way of life. The argument I advance in this book is that the English revolutionaries created a new kind of modern state. It was that new state that has proved so influential in shaping the modern world.

Men and women all over the English-speaking world once knew what happened in England’s Revolution of 1688–89. In 1685, the Catholic King James II inherited the crown of England. In 1689 the English people agreed to replace him with the Protestants King William III and Queen Mary II. In the intervening years, James II gradually and myopically alienated the moderate and sensible English people. He did this in a series of well-known missteps. In late 1685 he overreacted to the romantic but hopeless rebellion of his nephew, the Protestant Duke of Monmouth, by judicially murdering hundreds of humble inhabitants of the English West Country in the Bloody Assizes. Determined to improve the social and political status of his Catholic coreligionists, James then ran roughshod over English law. He insisted on his right to defy parliamentary statute and awarded Roman Catholics military and naval commissions. In 1687 he used his newly formed and illegal ecclesiastical commission to force England’s Protestant universities to accept Roman Catholic fellows. When the fellows of Magdalen College Oxford resisted their king’s demands, he had the dons stripped of their fellowships, turning the institution  into a Catholic seminary.

According to this once well-known narrative, after James II had failed to persuade the House of Commons or the House of Lords to repeal England’s laws against Roman Catholicism, he decided to emasculate Parliament. He first asserted his right to nullify the Test Acts and Penal Laws. These parliamentary statutes—requiring, in the case of the Test Acts, that all political or military officeholders take the sacrament according to the rites of the Church of England and, in the case of the Penal Laws, punishing those who officiated at or attended non–Church of England services—had successfully insulated the English from Continental Catholic practices. Then James determined to have his royal fiat ratified by a Parliament packed with men whom he knew would do his bidding. When, in June 1688, seven bishops of the Church of England defied James II by refusing to have his Declaration of Indulgence, emasculating the Penal Laws and Test Acts, read from England’s pulpits on the grounds of its illegality, James had the seven prelates dragged into court for a show trial. That even a carefully picked English jury acquitted the bishops demonstrated the extent to which the English were willing to go in support of their king. Soon after the trial, the English invited the Dutchman William III, Prince of Orange, to England to vindicate their religious and political liberty.

The English people enthusiastically welcomed William on his arrival in the west of England in 1688. James’s army quickly melted away after a series of spectacular defections, including that of the future Duke of Marlborough. James himself, preceded by his wife and newborn son, fled to France. The English people, in what was thought to have been a remarkable moment of political unanimity, agreed to replace James with William and Mary in February 1689. The English justified the crowning of the new monarchs with the publication of the Declaration of Right, detailing the ways that James II had violated English law, thereby insisting on the limited power of English kings. In the traditional account of the Glorious Revolution, the English people, led by their natural leaders in the two Houses of Parliament, changed the English polity in the slightest of ways in 1688–89. They slightly altered the succession, they made it illegal for a Catholic ever to inherit the throne, and they passed the Toleration Act, allowing Protestant Dissenters to worship freely. There were, to be sure, some significant unintended consequences of this bloodless revolution. But these outcomes were to be understood less as a direct consequence of these events than as the natural outgrowth of the English national character—a character that the Catholicizing Stuart monarchs had done much to pervert.

This was the story that every English schoolchild, and many North American ones, used to know. This was the story that the great Victorian historian Thomas Babington Macaulay laid out in his magisterial History of England, first published in the middle of the nineteenth century. That History was an immediate and runaway best seller and has deservedly been deeply influential ever since. Macaulay told his story in beautiful and accessible prose. He based his account on exhaustive research. Any scholar with an interest in the late seventeenth century should begin his or her research by examining Macaulay’s notes, now preserved in the British Library. Very few subsequent scholars of the events Macaulay described have achieved his level of archival mastery. And in many ways, subsequent scholars have quibbled with the details of Macaulay’s story while accepting his general thesis.

Macaulay’s thesis became the classic statement of the Whig interpretation of the Revolution of 1688–89.  It had a number of distinctive facets. First, the revolution was unrevolutionary. Unlike other subsequent revolutions, England’s revolution was bloodless, consensual, aristocratic, and above all sensible. The English had no desire to transform their polity, their society, or their culture. Instead they worried that James II had intended to do just that. Second, the revolution was Protestant. James II had tried to reinstitute Catholicism in England. The revolution insured that England would remain a Protestant polity. Third, the revolution demonstrated the fundamentally exceptional nature of English national character. Continental Europeans vacillated between the wild extremes of republican and popular government on the one hand and tyrannical royal absolutism on the other. The English, by contrast, were committed to limited monarchy, allowing just the right amount of tempered popular liberty. Just as the English church was a sensible middle way between the extremes of Roman Catholicism and radical Protestant sectarianism, so the English polity, by maintaining its ancient constitution, was sensible and moderate. In this context the English remained committed to their hierarchical social structure precisely because it did not impose unbridgeable gaps between the aristocracy and the people. Fourth, there could have been no social grievances undergirding the Revolution of 1688–89 because English society had changed little in the period before James II’s flight. It was only after English property rights were secured by the revolution, only after absolutism was no longer possible in England, that the English economy could truly flourish.

This book challenges every element of this established account. It is my claim that England’s Revolution of 1688–89 was the first modern revolution. […] … the English experience is not exceptional but in fact typical (if precocious) of states experiencing modern revolutions. The Revolution of 1688–89 is important not because it reaffirmed the exceptional English national character but because it was a landmark moment in the emergence of the modern state.

Steven C. A. Pincus – 1688: The First Modern Revolution


REVIEWS :

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“…what Pincus offers is not yet another narrative treatment of the 1688 revolution’s causes and consequences, but instead a lengthy, interpretative essay that stakes a claim for England’s last 17th-century revolution as the world’s first modern one. […]

According to Pincus, England’s revolution of 1688-89 established the fundamental pattern followed by all uprisings since, from France in 1789 to Cuba in 1959. Pincus suggests that modern revolutions do not represent the clash of the progressive with the traditional, nor even the replacement of one mode of production with another. Rather, they are the product of the conflict between rival modernisation movements, culminating, usually violently, in the profound transformation of the state.

In the case of England, the rival teams of modernisers were made up of James II and his Catholic advisers on one side and the Whigs and their Dutch helpmeet William of Orange on the other. According to Pincus, James idol­ised Louis XIV and sought to create a modern absolutist state, and an accompanying empire, along French lines. Though outwardly he pursued the goal of religious toleration, the authoritarian James really had little truck with religious pluralism and made no secret of his dislike for the Huguenot refugees who had flocked to English shores in flight from Louis’s persecutory policies. […]

The Whigs, meanwhile, looked over the North Sea to the Dutch Republic for their political inspiration. They wanted to create a modern state based on commerce, not land, and sought religious toleration not only to protect tender consciences, but also because it was believed to be good for business. […] Likewise, the political analogue of a commercially successful nation was an open, participatory polity, responsive to economic interest groups and with a free press that would ensure the availability of the best economic information at all times.”

Ted Vallance : New Statesman

“The revolution of 1688 was the first modern revolution. Like more recent revolutions, it was violent, popular, and divisive. It was not an aristocratic coup or a Dutch invasion, but a popular rejection of James II’s French-inspired, Catholic, absolutist modernisation of the state in favour of an alternative Anglo-Dutch vision that prized consent, religious toleration, free debate and commerce. By the mid-1690s this second, Whig version had triumphed. Britain had experienced a truly transformative revolution that had reshaped religion, political economy, foreign policy and the nature of the state. […]

The first chapter examines the way in which 1688 has been viewed by subsequent generations. Pincus seeks to explain why, if 1688–9 was really revolutionary, it should have acquired a reputation as conservative, moderate and peaceful. Discerning a change of Whig attitudes under Walpole in the 1720s and 1730s, Pincus also suggests that the radicals of the later 18th century turned their back on what they saw as an imperfect revolution. Both moderates and radicals thus came to see 1688–9 as a conservative revolution, though the first group celebrated it for that and the second despised it for it. Pincus then takes the modern scholarly community to task for having ‘claimed with a united voice’ that the ‘lives of most Britons were remarkably little affected’ by the revolution. […]

The first transformation, explored in chapter 11, was a revolution in foreign policy that was explicitly intended by the revolutionaries rather than being the result of a Dutch king’s will. William did not simply impose his European agenda on the nation; instead, ‘the English invited William to England because they knew he would support their image of the national interest’, which meant war with France (p. 307). James’s aggressively pro-French and anti-Dutch foreign policy meant that ‘most English people came to understand their own problems in remarkably modern and nationalist terms’; they saw the world in European terms (p. 333). This was not, however, a war of religion, for Catholic powers supported England and the Dutch; rather it was ‘an international struggle against Louis XIV, a tyrant and aspiring universal monarch, who was equally threatening to Catholic and Protestant’ (p. 339). […]

Author’s Response : My belief is that there was a long English revolutionary period, that had its ebbs and flows, but began in the 1620s and only really ended in the 1720s with Walpole’s seizing of the political middle ground. […]

Central institutions came to matter and matter tremendously in the later 17th century all over Europe. They supplanted state formation by local authorities and by ‘confessionalization’ (in Heinz Schilling’s and Wolfgang Reinhardt’s sense). It was these new central institutions spawned as an intended consequence of the Revolution of 1688–9 – new institutions like the Bank of England and the Board of Trade – as well as the centralizing institutions that began in the 1650s, and those developed under James II, that shaped the contours of the British Empire in the 18th century and made Britain into the first industrial nation.”

Mark Knights & Steven Pincus : Reviews in History

“Some years ago two gifted young historians of Britain made a deal. Both were working on major studies of the English Revolution of 1688, commonly if inconsistently known as the Glorious Revolution. Both believed that what happened in 1688–1689 was a radical, major, transformative event too often written off as moderate, conservative, and peaceful—hardly a “revolution” at all. Both believed that it had deep derivations and long-term consequences that could not be understood with reference simply to England alone; that the subject in its proper dimensions was far broader and more complex than had previously been seen. […]

But despite the differences they are both expressions of one of the deepest tendencies of late-twentieth-century historiography: the impulse to expand the range of inquiry, to rescale major events and trends into larger settings, and to seek heightened understanding at a more elevated and generalized plane. In every sphere of historical study—intellectual, cultural, political—the scope of inquiry has broadened. Large-scale comparisons and parallels are explored, national stories become regional, and regional studies become global. One traces the winding filiations of ideas and religious commitments through diverse nations and cultures and across great spaces; one thinks in terms of oceanic “worlds”: Mediterranean, Atlantic, Pacific, Indian. “There is a shock of recognition,” one historian has written, “as populations we assumed to be insular, and whose events we therefore explained in terms of local dynamics, are revealed to be above-water fragments of…submarine unities.” Both Pincus and Harris have relocated the “submerged” fragments of the Glorious Revolution into large, transnational, and multicultural unities that allow for explanations that are fuller, more complex, and more coherent than any we have had before.”

Bernard Bailyn : The New York Review of Books

Empires

Empires

Empires

HOEL


And let us at last take leave of imperialism. It is a pseudo-concept which sets out to make everything clear and ends by making everything muddled; it is a word for the illiterates of social science, the callow and shallow who attempt to solve problems without mastering a technique.

William Keith Hancock

« Et prenons enfin congé d’impérialisme. C’est un pseudo-concept qui vise à tout rendre clair et finit par tout rendre confus ; c’est un mot pour l’illettré des sciences sociales, le novice et superficiel qui tente de résoudre des problèmes sans maîtriser la technique. »


Empires have been key actors in world politics for millennia. They helped create the interdependent civilizations of Europe, India, the Americas, Africa, and East Asia which form much of our cultural heritage. They shaped the political development of practically all the states of the modern world. Before empires became disquieting subjects for scholarly analysis, they stimulated great literary works, and their historical and theoretical importance once made empire a word for scholars. Historians have steadily expanded our knowledge of individual empires. Social scientists have contributed studies of particular sources of imperialism. They are making empires and imperialism words for scholars once again. We have no reason now to exclude the subject from our study of the theory of world politics… […]

Empire, I shall argue, is a system of interaction between two political entities, one of which, the dominant metropole, exerts political control over the internal and external policy—the effective sovereignty—of the other, the subordinate periphery. To understand this interaction it is quite as necessary to explain the weakness of the periphery as it is to explain the strength and motives of the metropole.

Michael W. Doyle

« Les empires ont été des acteurs clés dans la politique mondiale durant des millénaires. Ils ont aidé à créer les civilisations interdépendantes de l’Europe, l’Inde, les Amériques, l’Afrique et l’Asie de l’Est qui forment une grande partie de notre héritage culturel. Ils ont façonné le développement politique de pratiquement tous les États du monde moderne. Avant que les empires ne devinssent des sujets inquiétants pour l’analyse savante, ils stimulèrent de grandes œuvres littéraires, et leur importance historique et théorique fit un jour d’empire un mot pour les savants. Les historiens ont augmenté de manière constante notre connaissance des divers empires. Les spécialistes des sciences sociales ont contribué aux études des sources particulières de l’impérialisme. Ils font des empires et de l’impérialisme des mots pour les savants une fois encore. Nous n’avons maintenant aucune raison d’exclure le sujet de notre étude de la théorie de la politique mondiale…  […]

L’empire, je dirai, est un système d’interaction entre deux entités politiques, l’une d’entre elles, la métropole dominante, exerce un contrôle politique sur la politique intérieure et extérieure — la souveraineté effective — de l’autre, la périphérie subordonnée. Pour comprendre cette interaction il est tout aussi nécessaire d’expliquer la faiblesse de la périphérie qu’il l’est d’expliquer la force et les motivations de la métropole. »

Statue de l'empereur romain Auguste dite Augustus Prima Porta (photo : Till Niermann)

Empires have been key actors in world politics for millennia. They helped create the interdependent civilizations of Europe, India, the Americas, Africa, and East Asia which form much of our cultural heritage. They shaped the political development of practically all the states of the modern world.

Our generation has befogged itself by its inveterate and atrocious abuse of language. There is no stability in the words we use; they change their meaning and emotional tone from country to country, from decade to decade, from person to person; the same word is to one man a term of scientific description, to another a war-cry, to a third an incantation. Consider the word colony; in my habit of speech, any political dependency is a colony; but Americans commonly employ a double standard of language: their own political dependencies are territories—a worthy name; but ours are colonies—a word of shame. To the Russians, the word is a missile of political warfare. Meanwhile, the plodding English retain it for simple description. Unfortunately, the things described do not stand still: in my own lifetime, the peoples of Magna Britannia—this phrase echoes Magna Graecia and thereby connotes ‘colonies of settlement’—have moved from dependent to sovereign status: when now we speak of colonies we envisage indigenous populations within the tropics, not emigrant communities of European stock. Yet I like to recall that the Hancocks of Massachusetts were colonials, and so were the Hancocks of Australia.

Still more confusing is the word imperialism. Muddle-headed historians in Great Britain and America use this word with Heaven-knows how many shades of meaning, while Soviet writers are using it to summarise a theory and wage a war. Communists did not invent it; as Professor Koebner has recently reminded us [‘The Concept of Economic imperialism’], it came into existence about one-hundred years ago, when apprehensive and scandalised Liberals hurled it against Napoleon III. Since then it has had many connotations and has many time changed its tone. There have been times and places where it has enjoyed a fleeting prestige; but throughout the longer part of its short life, and most certainly in our own generation, it has remained what it was at the beginning, a missile of political warfare. Lenin certainly used it that way. He hurled it with gusto at those unblushing, impotent, insincere, dishonest, cynical, opportunist, vulgar persons who did not think like Lenin. I have culled the adjectives—they are but a selection—from Lenin’s own book [Imperialism the Highest Stage of Capitalism, written at Zurich in the spring of 1916]. They hardly suggest the dispassionate attitude of science. Yet Lenin believed himself to be a social scientist. To him, imperialism was a scientific concept—a master concept indeed; for it contained the explanation of a decisive chapter in human history. […]

And let us at last take leave of imperialism. It is a pseudo-concept which sets out to make everything clear and ends by making everything muddled; it is a word for the illiterates of social science, the callow and shallow who attempt to solve problems without mastering a technique.

William Keith Hancock – Wealth of colonies (1950)

The term “imperialism,” as students of history and politics know, has been a word of protean imprecision, remarkable above all for its polemical power. We hear today a great deal of dispute about whether the United States is or is not an imperial or imperialist power, and participants in those arguments often find themselves adjusting the meaning of that term in order to associate with, or to refuse, the connotations that come with it. […] language, in its coinages and its shades of meaning, reflects shifts in opinion and (more specifically) in feeling, … language, by assigning a stable symbol to shifting objects, serves to conceal those shifts. “Imperialism” has been in common English use for less than a century and a half, which is to say that it was possible for the British to conquer India and to colonize America without feeling a need for “imperialism.”

Mark F Proudman – Words for Scholars: The Semantics of “Imperialism” (Journal of the Historical Society)

Imperialism, Sir Keith Hancock has reminded us, is no word for scholars. It has been analysed too often, given too many shades of meaning. In our time it has become a football, a war-cry, a labelled card in a sociological laboratory. Originally a term borrowed from France, and in low repute accordingly, those in Great Britain who adopted it — Curzon, Rosebery, Milner in their day, Churchill and Amery the day after — gave it all the English virtues, and saw no shame in describing themselves as  Imperialists, with the capital letter. Imperialism belongs to its own time in British history, is of its own period; and the historian is not justified in ignoring it or in casting about for a better description because strange winds have blown upon and through it since.

Yet it should be emphasised that the attack on the imperial idea, whose course this book attempts to describe, was a failure on one sector of the long front. The purely intellectual argument against it made no headway, for imperialism was a faith and an emotion before it became a political programme; and even when its enemies had successfully overturned the political programme the faith and the emotion survived.

Archibald Paton Thornton – The Imperial Idea and its Enemies A Study in British Power (1959)

Imperialism is not a word for scholars.
                     Lord Hailey, 1940

Imperialism was not in the mainstream of scholarly literature on world politics when Halley, author of the monumental African Survey, made his remark, nor is it today. Historians have studied individual empires and colonies, but most abjure an « ism, » a general process and theory. International relations scholars, for their part, tend to place imperialism in a minor position, as one of many possible policies that a powerful state can pursue.

This relative neglect has several sources. Imperial rule involves not only international relations but also the domestic politics of both the subject country (the periphery) and the ruling state (the metropole). In the study of imperialism, therefore, international politics blends into comparative politics. Equally disorienting for current scholarship, empire turns on their heads the central insights of international relations theorists. Imperialism’s foundation is not anarchy, but order, albeit an order imposed and strained. Comparative politics, on the other hand, concerned with independent political units, recognizes imperialism as at best one minor influence among many in shaping a state. Empire and imperialism are indeed not « words » for scholars in these disciplinary traditions.

Lord Hailey’s statement is unassailable in practical terms. It is clear, however, that he strongly intended his « is not » to mean « ought not to be. » And that normative statement, which represents the view of many historians and political scientists even today, is highly debatable.

It is true that when Hailey wrote, the contending approaches of the leading theorists of imperialismJohn Hobson, Vladimir Lenin, and Joseph Schumpeter—were exceptionally programmatic exercises in political writing. Moreover, and perhaps more tellingly, the programs they were pursuing—the condemnation or defense of capitalism—related only indirectly to the purported object of their analysis, imperialism. The results were not scholarly, at least not in the sense of being careful and complete explanations.

But Hailey’s « ought not » was and is unacceptable if imperialism is taken to mean the actual process by which empires are formed and maintained. Empires have been key actors in world politics for millennia. They helped create the interdependent civilizations of Europe, India, the Americas, Africa, and East Asia which form much of our cultural heritage. They shaped the political development of practically all the states of the modern world. Before empires became disquieting subjects for scholarly analysis, they stimulated great literary works, and their historical and theoretical importance once made empire a word for scholars. Historians have steadily expanded our knowledge of individual empires. Social scientists have contributed studies of particular sources of imperialism. They are making empires and imperialism words for scholars once again. We have no reason now to exclude the subject from our study of the theory of world politics, and in this book I attempt to combine the insights of the historians and social scientists in a systematic explanation.

Empire, I shall argue, is a system of interaction between two political entities, one of which, the dominant metropole, exerts political control over the internal and external policy—the effective sovereignty—of the other, the subordinate periphery. To understand this interaction it is quite as necessary to explain the weakness of the periphery as it is to explain the strength and motives of the metropole.

This definition sets empire apart from the types of power characteristic of domestic and international politics. One subject with which empire can easily be confused is international inequality, and I will take pains to dissociate the two. To name two important examples of international inequality, a hegemonic power, as opposed to a metropole, controls much or all of the external, but little or none of the internal, policy of other states, and a dependent state, as opposed to an imperialized periphery, is a state subject to limited constraints on its economic, social, and (indirectly) political autonomy.

Although such distinctions are important, the study of empires shares much ground with the study of international relations, both in method and in conception. In the study of international relations one seeks the general causes of war and peace as well as the causes of particularly warprone periods and specific wars, alliances, and foreign policies. Similarly, in the study of empires one wants to know the sources of empire and independence as well as the conditions that gave rise to especially imperialistic ages and of monarchical or democratic empires, and the reasons for the growth, persistence, and decline of empires. Understanding in both cases demands study at various levels of specificity. As I shall show, empires, like international politics, do exhibit some regularities across the millennia; but bearing in mind that broad analogies can yield illusory similarities as readily as illusory differences, I ground my work in an examination of individual empires and specific historical experience. The conclusions that I draw in this book are thus the product of theoretical argument joined to historical illustrations and are best understood as hypotheses in the scientific sense.

Generalization and theory are not, of course, sufficient for an understanding of the evolution of empire. It is impossible to address the question of how empires were established and maintained, and how they fell, without resort to historical narration. What follows does indeed contain such narration—description as disciplined by plot as I have been able to make it. But in a field in which Hobson warned about the use of « masked words » to rally bemused intellectual support for brutal policies, in which Lenin feared the impact of jingoistic ideas on a labor aristocracy bought by imperialistic gold, and in which Schumpeter discussed the use of imperialism itself as a « catchword, » one has to be especially careful not to contribute to obfuscation. Because the scientific idiom is well adapted to an explicit presentation of arguments which lays bare any analytical weaknesses, I have used it in the theoretical sections of the book. I believe it is valuable as a pattern for argument even though no sociopolitical study can ever lay credible claim to « hard » scientific conclusions. General historical propositions are always heavily contingent, and my « general theory » is no exception. It does not build from basic axioms about human nature to propositions about imperial behavior. Instead, it begins with thoroughly contingent propositions of social science and extends them into connections—combined explanations—that shed light on aspects of the experience of empires. Such trains of explanation, unscientifically obtained though they are, are nonetheless susceptible to a useful scientific presentation in the form of statements that can be disconfirmed.

start with an overview of the three perspectives on empires which are already well established and with discussion of the meaning of empire. Part I, containing broad comparisons of the Athenian, Roman, Ottoman, Spanishand English empires, focuses on the general structural conditions that explain empires, particularly those conditions which distinguish imperial metropoles from imperialized peripheries. Part II focuses more narrowly on the processes of imperialism that account for the Scramble for Africa of the 1880s.

This work began many years ago, in discussions of the war in Vietnam. We described it as an « imperialistic » war, and I wondered what that label could mean. Understanding empires proved much more difficult than I had imagined it would be.

Michael W. Doyle – Empires


REVIEW :

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“Reaching as far back as the ancient Athenian empire and anchoring the substantive comparative discussion in the politics of the Scramble for Africa by the major European powers in the late 1800s, Doyle identifies key recurring features of imperial emergence, expansion, and collapse.  Unsurprisingly he concludes that imperial expansion is most probable when the metropole is powerful and politically stable, the periphery is weak, disunited, and militarily vulnerable, and the international system or competing great powers do not provide serious threats or obstacles.”

Ariel Zellman