History

One of the first lessons I try to instill in my students about the historical process is that it is not a mere recitation of names, dates and figures; it is an interpretive endeavor through which humans make sense of past events. This undertaking requires strong analytic skills and the ability to think critically. In my Holocaust class, I like to spend the first discussion section looking at selections from two books that use the same source base and draw diametrically opposed conclusions -Christopher Browning's Ordinary Men and Daniel Goldhagen's Hitler's Willing Executioners. This case study demonstrates to students that there are multiple readings of historical data and that it is imperative that they read all their materials -primary and secondary -with a healthy degree of critical distance. When students have assimilated this basic concept, they can approach the study of history as a creative process, resulting from a dialogue between the historian and the historical actors being studied.

This paper represents a first attempt to map the institutional networks and connections of the Austrian School of economics during the decade between the end of the Great War and the beginning of the worldwide economic crisis in 1929. Thanks to work of Hansjörg Klausinger,

, yesterday morning about 10 o'clock, was honored by the landing of the Grand Republic on her down trip [on the Mississippi], with the Emperor of Brazil on board. The Republic stopped to take on a lot of flour, and during her stay a large crowd of citizens availed themselves of the opportunity to get a sight of Dom Pedro, who sat at a desk in the great hall-way of the steamer, apparently busy writing, with a huge pile of envelopes and paper on the desk about him; but the old gentleman did not fail every now and then to take a good square look at his visitors. No one was introduced to the Emperor. Ladies and gentlemen, ragged and barefooted boys, all together passed up and down the magnificent cabin of the great steamer, took a look at his majesty, and went ashore, satisfied that one wonderful sight had been seen in this, the Centennial year.

A balanced analysis based on solid research is to be expected from a scholar of this author's renown, and The Rise and Fall of a Palestinian Dynasty does not disappoint. Ilan Pappe has consulted British and Israeli documents, as well as the sijjilat, or Sharia Court records, in Jerusalem, and interviewed Husayni family members. The Husayni family, along with the Khalidis, Dajanis, Nashashibis, and the Jarallahs, were the equivalent of a Palestinian hereditary aristocracy. Pappe's account of the Husaynis' rise to power and their complex relations with the ruling Ottoman Empire during the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries is particularly fascinating, as he captures the spirit of the times with its myriad political and military tensions. During the Ottoman period, the Husaynis leveraged their economic and social power to gain key political positions in Jerusalem. During the Mandate, the British continued this tradition by appointing them to top positions, particularly that of the mufti of Jerusalem (220). Although a small, nascent Palestinian national movement emerged in the early nineteenth century before the advent of Zionism, as Pappe points out, the Husaynis were careful to maintain cordial relations with the Ottoman government until the beginning of World War I (65). They also established ties with the foreign consuls in Jerusalem and attempted to keep open channels of communication with the British during the Mandate period. Thus the family showed great political flexibility. These survival techniques enabled them to maintain their preeminent position until the establishment of Israel in 1948. Pappe emphasizes that opposition to Zionism among the Husaynis (and Palestinians in general) was not based on anti-Jewish sentiments but on their opposition to a Zionist takeover of Palestine. During the Mandate, the Husaynis and other notable families continued to compete against one another rather than forge a unified political front. The Husaynis also failed to reach out to the Palestinian peasants who were the backbone of Palestinian resistance. These were fatal errors. Pappe also emphasizes that, in contrast to the internationally well connected Zionist leadership, the Palestinians were not always aware of the great global issues of the day. This placed the Palestinians at a distinct disadvantage, then and now (172). Pappe also argues that as the Zionists became stronger, militarily and politically, they became, perhaps not surprisingly, less willing to accept compromises that would be agreeable to the Palestinians.

At the beginning of the twentieth century, the Egyptian Delta Land and Investment Company (Delta Land) broke ground on Maʿadi, a new residential development seven miles south of Cairo. The company organized Maʿadi as a town-and-country space, offering well-to-do residents the leisure of the country only a short train ride from the city center. Miniaturizing Haussmann's Paris, the space included a series of wide, tree-lined boulevards that met at garden-filled midans (Arabic for roundabout). Residents then built large villas and spacious gardens along the town's smaller streets. Over the course of the first half of the twentieth century, these places became home to a mixture of former British colonial civil servants, European commercial expatriates, influential Egypt-born Jews, and upper middle-class Egyptians. Asking how the establishment of Maʿadi was possible, who supported Delta Land's venture, and what kind of social life and culture formed within the town, Maʿadi&#3...

twentieth century, Maʿadi continued to thrive under Delta Land's leadership. Identifying the means of the town's ongoing growth, Maʿadi's history locates in a single place British imperial compromise, ongoing Ottoman influence, Europeans rivalries over Egypt, and Egyptian nationalists' use of this multinational context when claiming independence. Significant change only came to Maʿadi in the years following the Second World War, when a military coup ousted Egypt's king and gradually looked to reorient the country's geo-political relationships. Even then revolution came to Maʿadi gradually, as residents organized to preserve the social and cultural norms associated with the town. As Egypt's new regime embraced a socialist Pan-Arab ideology, however, Maʿadi could not abide in its earlier form. With Egypt's place in the world changing, Maʿadi was absorbed into the sprawl of greater Cairo and increasingly appeared as the relic of a former elite who had lost their place of influence. iii ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS Because the following addresses the history of a place built largely out of privilege, I would be remiss in not acknowledging my own advantages as I researched and wrote about Maʿadi. There is one existing history of the town, Maadi, 1904-1962: Society and History in a Cairo Suburb, written by longtime resident Samir W. Raafat. His book offered me a roadmap to the possible sources I might find on Maʿadi's history. While I never had the opportunity to meet Mr. Raafat in person, his work provided the foundation for much of my own. The majority of my research was conducted in 2010 and 2011, when I received a Fulbright Scholarship from the U.S. Department of State to work in Egypt. When I arrived in Cairo in the autumn of 2010, I was not sure what kind of materials I would find, and prepared myself for a long year of combing through newspapers and tracking down oral histories. While both of those avenues proved promising, the real success of that year came when Mr. Raafat donated a large portion of his own research materials to the Rare Books and Special Collections Library at the American University in Cairo. I am especially grateful to Stephen Urgola, the university archivist, and his staff, who assisted me throughout the research process, turning me on to additional resources that further aided my efforts. My research year came during a revolutionary period in Egypt's history, and the events of January 25, 2011 and their aftermath necessitated that I leave the country. I heard the news of Hosni Mubarak's downfall from England, where I continued my research for several months as conditions in Egypt remained unstable. I found an especially welcoming environment at Oxford University where the Middle East Centre Archive at St. Antony's College provided ample materials. The centre's archivist Debbie Usher offered invaluable assistance as I continued my iv work. In England I also had the opportunity to conduct oral history interviews with some of Maʿadi's former residents, and I thank Gabriel Josipovici and his cousin Anna Joannides for allowing me into their homes and for sharing their memories with me. Once I returned to Cairo, I had the opportunity to conduct oral history interviews with several of Maʿadi's longterm residents. Nadia Salem, Maggie Safwat, Ingy Safwat, and Maggie Zaki were especially gracious as they shared their recollections of their home, and the deep meaning Maʿadi's past had gained for them. Paul-Gordon Chandler provided valuable resources on the history of the Church of St. John. Amy Widener was not only my first friend in Maʿadi, but also paved the way for my first research breakthrough when she put me in touch with Maʿadi's expansive network of gardening enthusiasts. My research would not have been possible without the ongoing support and friendship of Mike and Mary Reimer, whose Digla flat became home to me. I am additionally grateful for the friendship of Bethany Andrews, GJ Tesar, Jenna and Julie Kuntzman, Kate Stricklan, Felicity Jaffrey, and the women of the Maadi Messenger. Rutgers University provided me with ongoing support throughout my graduate studies. Pre-dissertation small grants through the Mellon Foundation and the Graduate School-New Brunswick allowed me to get an early start on my dissertation research. My adviser Seth Koven offered unwavering assistance at each stage of my graduate studies. I am grateful for his help not only as I faced the revolutionary events in Cairo, but also as he read draft after draft of the chapters included here, giving me insightful criticism and the encouragement to press on. My other committee members, Bonnie Smith, Toby Jones, and David Cannadine, opened up my eyes to the various facets of global history, and then helped me refine my thinking and focus my analysis as I put my ideas into writing. Al Howard offered the kind of friendly, consistent, and v patient support that I hope to emulate in my own career. Any success I enjoyed at Rutgers would also not have been possible without the friendships I gained there, and I am especially thankful

twentieth century, Maʿadi continued to thrive under Delta Land's leadership. Identifying the means of the town's ongoing growth, Maʿadi's history locates in a single place British imperial compromise, ongoing Ottoman influence, Europeans rivalries over Egypt, and Egyptian nationalists' use of this multinational context when claiming independence. Significant change only came to Maʿadi in the years following the Second World War, when a military coup ousted Egypt's king and gradually looked to reorient the country's geo-political relationships. Even then revolution came to Maʿadi gradually, as residents organized to preserve the social and cultural norms associated with the town. As Egypt's new regime embraced a socialist Pan-Arab ideology, however, Maʿadi could not abide in its earlier form. With Egypt's place in the world changing, Maʿadi was absorbed into the sprawl of greater Cairo and increasingly appeared as the relic of a former elite who had lost their place of influence. iii ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS Because the following addresses the history of a place built largely out of privilege, I would be remiss in not acknowledging my own advantages as I researched and wrote about Maʿadi. There is one existing history of the town, Maadi, 1904-1962: Society and History in a Cairo Suburb, written by longtime resident Samir W. Raafat. His book offered me a roadmap to the possible sources I might find on Maʿadi's history. While I never had the opportunity to meet Mr. Raafat in person, his work provided the foundation for much of my own. The majority of my research was conducted in 2010 and 2011, when I received a Fulbright Scholarship from the U.S. Department of State to work in Egypt. When I arrived in Cairo in the autumn of 2010, I was not sure what kind of materials I would find, and prepared myself for a long year of combing through newspapers and tracking down oral histories. While both of those avenues proved promising, the real success of that year came when Mr. Raafat donated a large portion of his own research materials to the Rare Books and Special Collections Library at the American University in Cairo. I am especially grateful to Stephen Urgola, the university archivist, and his staff, who assisted me throughout the research process, turning me on to additional resources that further aided my efforts. My research year came during a revolutionary period in Egypt's history, and the events of January 25, 2011 and their aftermath necessitated that I leave the country. I heard the news of Hosni Mubarak's downfall from England, where I continued my research for several months as conditions in Egypt remained unstable. I found an especially welcoming environment at Oxford University where the Middle East Centre Archive at St. Antony's College provided ample materials. The centre's archivist Debbie Usher offered invaluable assistance as I continued my iv work. In England I also had the opportunity to conduct oral history interviews with some of Maʿadi's former residents, and I thank Gabriel Josipovici and his cousin Anna Joannides for allowing me into their homes and for sharing their memories with me. Once I returned to Cairo, I had the opportunity to conduct oral history interviews with several of Maʿadi's longterm residents. Nadia Salem, Maggie Safwat, Ingy Safwat, and Maggie Zaki were especially gracious as they shared their recollections of their home, and the deep meaning Maʿadi's past had gained for them. Paul-Gordon Chandler provided valuable resources on the history of the Church of St. John. Amy Widener was not only my first friend in Maʿadi, but also paved the way for my first research breakthrough when she put me in touch with Maʿadi's expansive network of gardening enthusiasts. My research would not have been possible without the ongoing support and friendship of Mike and Mary Reimer, whose Digla flat became home to me. I am additionally grateful for the friendship of Bethany Andrews, GJ Tesar, Jenna and Julie Kuntzman, Kate Stricklan, Felicity Jaffrey, and the women of the Maadi Messenger. Rutgers University provided me with ongoing support throughout my graduate studies. Pre-dissertation small grants through the Mellon Foundation and the Graduate School-New Brunswick allowed me to get an early start on my dissertation research. My adviser Seth Koven offered unwavering assistance at each stage of my graduate studies. I am grateful for his help not only as I faced the revolutionary events in Cairo, but also as he read draft after draft of the chapters included here, giving me insightful criticism and the encouragement to press on. My other committee members, Bonnie Smith, Toby Jones, and David Cannadine, opened up my eyes to the various facets of global history, and then helped me refine my thinking and focus my analysis as I put my ideas into writing. Al Howard offered the kind of friendly, consistent, and v patient support that I hope to emulate in my own career. Any success I enjoyed at Rutgers would also not have been possible without the friendships I gained there, and I am especially thankful

This study examines the life of Sammy Lee(1920-2016), who won two Olympic gold medals in platform diving in 1948 and 1952, and his activities as a second generation Korean-American diver, otorhinolaryngologist, sports coach, and sports ambassador. Despite the unparalleled achievements, Sammy Lee's life have been largely neglected in existing studies of nation-centered sports history. This study reexamines Lee's life as a Korean diaspora and transnational activities by using new historical evidence from the Korean-American news media and post-liberated South Korean news media. The study's findings are as follows: Sammy Lee's success has given Korean Americans dreams and hopes, and he contributed to the integration of American society divided by racial conflict and discrimination. Lee introduced South Korean diving prospects to the international sports stage, prompting a drastic change that made South Korea a diving powerhouse in the 1970s. In addition to that, it provides a historical case of an athlete overcoming practical and psychological barriers and offers critical insight on the role of athletes in enhancing social integration.

This article focuses on Chosŏn's informal diplomacy with the Qing dynasty that guided Chosŏn Korea's diplomatic engagement with Japan in the 1870s. The Chosŏn-Qing literary correspondence in Kang Wi's (姜瑋, 1820-1884) brush talk records has been viewed as historical evidence of Chosŏn's intelligence-gathering activities which formed the basis of a new diplomatic enterprise for dealing with modern imperial powers. What has received less attention, however, is the implementation and implications of the informal diplomacy reflected in Kang's diplomatic activities and his discursive practice. Based on a personal and unofficial account by an intellectual on the margins of the established social and international order, this study revisits the political and intelligence-gathering processes that led up to the 1876 peace agreement, which was the culmination of the Qing and Chosŏn dynasties' concerted efforts as they transitioned to a changing world order in East Asia. In addition, this article further illuminates Kang's agency, despite his secondary social status, in Chosŏn's changing attitude towards Westerners and Westernized Japan. I argue that as both interviewer and transcriber, and from his position on the periphery of the Confucian ruling elites in the late Chosŏn period, Kang provided a new framework through which to formulate policies by reconfiguring his brush talk records to implement his own agenda as a member of the chungin (middle people) literary elite.

This article analyzes the participation mechanisms and collective behavior displayed during the 1931 Anti-Chinese riot in colonial Korea. It focuses specifically on collectivity and its ability to transcend individual values and generate group behavior (e.g., riots), arguing that this collectivity has normative characteristics emerging from ethnic conflict. This approach is unique and can enable a better understanding of such behavior. First, the research takes the riots themselves and their place of occurrence as the central vantage point rather than focusing on the background factors that precipitated them. Second, this approach provides a more substantial explanatory process because it addresses the compulsory nature of crowd participation in addition to its voluntary nature. To contextualize this argument, the paper explores the significance of the Wanbaoshan incident that triggered Koreans at that time. This exploration reveals that Koreans' mass participation can be accounted for by the idea of "perceived legitimacy" shared by rioters. Second, this paper investigates whether this perceived legitimacy coerced others to participate while also probing if specific norms led to selective and self-regulatory forms of violence and involvement. The paper also shows that the Pyŏngyang riot (where the pogrom occurred) represents more than an isolated case; it is, instead, a more evolved form of rioting than that which occurred in other regions. Finally, the paper discusses the response of the security police to further contextualize how the riot progressed. This article is a revised and translated version of YIM Joon-Gyu's Korean article “1931-yŏn singminji Chosŏn esŏ ŭi pan-Chunggugin p’oktong: p’oktong ŭi chinhaeng kwajŏng ŭl chungsim ŭro,” published in Sahoe wa yŏksa [Society and history] 131 (2021) with the permission of Han’guk Sahoesa Hakhoe [Korean Social History Association]. The translation and English editing of this article were supported by the (Chae) Hakbong Changhakhoe [Hakbong Scholarship Foundation].

Using a review of several letters from the papers of Rice C. Ballard, a former Virginia slave trader, this article examines the lives " fancy girls, " a little known group of high-end, enslaved women who were sold for use as concubines or prostitutes during antebellum America. Specifically, this study uses letters from two women to demonstrate how this unique female slave encountered an industrializing America in ways that often differ from the experiences of other female slaves.

As far back as the New Deal era, South Florida's white power brokers wanted African Americans to live in the northwest section of then Dade County and away from the region's lucrative seaside. Even today, however, people of color, many of Bahamian descent, remain in Miami's bayside Coconut Grove community, but they do so amid gentrification. Such ongoing settlement and the eventual migration of people of African descent to the northwest section of the county by the late 1960s fit into a larger narrative of black self-determination in Florida. Relying greatly on oral histories and the historical record, this article explores such settlement and migratory patterns and how they fit into a larger black resistance tradition dating back to the nineteenth century. In 1972, my family moved to the northwest section of then Dade County, about twenty or so miles north of Miami. Sand dunes and empty fields surrounded our often pastel-painted homes. We were in the boondocks. We also lived in a "second ghetto," the idea being that after leaving a segregated neighborhood, we had found ourselves in a similar state owing to recent white flight. But that whites had once lived in this area at all suggests the limits of racial housing politics in South Florida. As far back as the New Deal era, realtors, policy makers, and developers wanted African Americans to live in this section of the county, away from the region's lucrative seaside. It was only decades after power brokers wanted us there that we were in fact moving to this community , then the unincorporated part of the county called Carol City (now the City of Miami Gardens). Our belated move to the northwest section of the county suggest irregular spatial and racial politics across time worth studying.