Examines gender and race/ethnicity related to conversation memory.

This chapter explores the ways folksong research in the Czech lands emerged both within and alongside race and ethnicity studies during the first half of the twentieth century. Many scholars have thoughtfully examined interrelationships between folksong research and German nationalism, specimen culture, and Darwinian assumptions, and yet these same interrelationships in Czech music studies have only recently begun to emerge. Anthropologists, too, have brought into focus the political roles of ethnographic studies in defining the Czech and Slovak nations, but the specific role of folksong research within this remains unstudied. Examining the ways music research in the Czech lands participated alongside and sometimes overlapped with German nationalist race and ethnicity research, however, illuminates early Czech folk-music studies as an instrument of ethnonationalism; a tool not merely descriptive of a repertoire, but also delineative of who belonged and who did not.

The minority claims made by the various minority movements that emerged in the 1950s coalesced in separate state movements. Separate states claims were made by minority communities in all three major regions and these claims were championed by their political elites who strategically occupied seats in the regional houses of assembly, starting in 1953. Niger Delta elites formed provisional alliance, supressing local disputes and differences, in order to keep their claim for a separate Mid-West state alive in the constitutional reform process. Their efforts succeeded in halting the final constitutional conference, which was to be held in London in 1957. The push for separate states was strong enough to threaten the decolonization process altogether, and the British government decided to establish a Minorities Commission to address and resolve these claims prior to formal independence.

In the wake of the boycott, the British govenment strengthened the warrant chief system, gathered intelligence on these communities to reorganize them into discrete, governable units. Reorganization was carried out in the context of interwar colonial development policy, which sought to increase the efficiency and productivity of the colonies. The British government coerced Africans across their colonies to engage in waged labor, in order to pay taxes and contribute to local development initiatives. In the Niger Delta, ethnic competition was used as a mechanism by which colonial development was distributed. Paramount chieftaincy increased a community’s ability to access colonial resources, contributing to a proliferation of new chieftaincy titles in competition for these resources. The case of the Olu title among the Itsekiri people is exemplary of these developments.

This chapter argues that Katharine Bradley and Edith Cooper saw Michael Field as a poet of Empire and proposes that scholarship on Michael Field has overlooked the conservative, reactionary social and racial politics of their oeuvre. The chapter surveys Michael Field’s often complex and contradictory responses to race, empire, and imperialism, as seen in their dedicatory verses to various national heroes and their play Brutus Ultor (addressed ‘To The People of England’). The chapter then examines their jingoistic attitude towards the Boer War at the turn of the century, and their orientalised depictions of ‘East’ in plays such as Queen Mariamne (1908), that are revealing of their treatment of racial and ethnic differences.

The upbringing and professional career of Wu Jian (1462–1506) and his uncle, Wu Cong, shed light on two key issues. First is the gradual transformation of merit nobles within the Ming polity, particularly their role in dynastic defenses. Second is the dynasty’s continued efforts to secure military ability through instituting new practices, including the education and training of young merit nobles and entrusting capable civil officials with substantial military responsibilities. Before turning to Wu Jian’s career, however, we first consider the experiences of his mother and other women, whose abilities both in managing large, complex households and negotiating with the dynastic state, were essential to the fortunes of all merit noble families.

Recounting the experiences of Wu Ruyin and his son, Wu Weiying, who between them held the title of Marquis of Gongshun in succession from 1599 to 1643, this chapter and the preceding one address two overarching issues. First, they explore how institutions and administrators persevere amidst crisis. It may be tempting to caricature late Ming bureaucrats as obdurately clinging to the past, but men like Wu Ruyin and Wu Weiying adapted to new demands by incorporating new technologies and new ways within established frameworks. Few felt the need to abandon the “institutions of the imperial forefathers.” Second, these chapters examine the place of merit nobles in late Ming society. Wu Ruyin and Wu Weiying were not men of the people, but by function of their social circles, they actively engaged in the capital’s broader cultural activities, and by virtue of their jobs as senior military administrators, they commanded surprisingly detailed information about common soldiers and officers, war captives and refugees, and even rumors circulating through Beijing. This chapter first examines Wu Ruyin’s role as the emperor’s representative in ceremony, which included officiating at rituals, offering prayers, and hosting banquets, and second, considers his experiences as a military administrator in a time of acute challenges.

Using Wu Jin’s tenure as Marquis of Gongshun from 1449 to 1461, this chapter explores issues of ability and difference in a time of upheaval at the Ming court. It traces the Wu family as it shifted from immigrant family at the empire’s western edge to members of the capital elite. The chapter also explores the divergent experiences of other Mongolians and merit noble families within the Ming polity.

The Wu family’s experiences illustrate in clear and human terms how institutions change over time. Far from lapsing into an ornamental or parasitic existence after the horrific purges of the Hongwu and Yongle reigns, merit nobles remained integral to the Ming dynasty. Reviewing the careers of the Wu men across the generations, we see their role change from field commanders, to a mix of field command and senior administration, and finally to exclusively capital administration. Rather than a caricatured image of corrupt irrelevance, merit nobles, properly considered, serve as a salutary reminder that military institutions, like other institutions, adapted to new circumstances. Examination of the Wu family yields a sharper understanding of who actually administered the dynasty’s core military institutions, what functions they served, and how they interacted with civil officials, palace eunuchs, officers, and the throne. Civil officials came and went, eunuchs held posts for longer, and military officers led campaigns, but merit nobles provided much of the continuity in personnel so essential for the operation of the Capital Training Divisions and Chief Military Commissions, pillars of the dynastic military.

Chapter 1 traces the experiences of Batu-Temür, his wife, their sons, and some 5,000 followers, who in 1405 migrated from the Mongolian steppe to the northwestern corner of the still-new Ming dynasty. In recognition of the military contributions of Batu-Temür and his sons, and their steadfast loyalty on refusing to join a local Mongolian insurrection, the Ming emperor granted the family a series of high-level military posts, gifts, honorary titles, a Chinese surname (Wu), and eventually investiture of Batu-Temür as Earl of Gongshun, a title that his descendants would hold until the mid seventeenth century. The Wu family’s experiences show both the Ming dynasty and recently arrived immigrants actively attempting to advance their interests in a time of rapid geopolitical change.

The last Marquis of Gongshun, Wu Weihua, not only survived but thrived during the traumatic transition from the fallen Ming dynasty to the newly founded Qing dynasty. His elder brother died in an epidemic of unprecedented scale in the capital, leaving vacant the title of marquis. His nephew was murdered in a rebel occupation of Beijing without parallel in the dynasty. His sovereign perished at his own hand (another unique event during the Ming period), and the Ming ruling house crumpled before his eyes. Wu Weihua then hurled himself across the dynastic divide, offering his services to the new Manchu regime in exchange for the title his family had held without interruption since the early fifteenth century. In addition to dogged pursuit of that title, he worked tirelessly to secure the survival – even prosperity – of his family in a new age, winning posts for his brothers and brokering at least one marriage alliance with the new Manchu elite.

The Introduction lays out the book’s arguments, organization, and significance. The basic arguments are: (1) there was more to the military than war; (2) there was more to government than civil officials; and (3) there was more to China than the Han majority. The story of the Wu family is told at three levels: (1) the professional and family lives of each generation of the men to hold the title Marquis of Gongshun, (2) broader events and trends occurring in Ming politics, society, economics, religion, and ethnic relations, and (3) periodic consideration of the big picture, that is, thinking about the Ming dynasty in its Eurasian context. Nearly all polities confront issues of ability and difference as they secure people of ability through means such as hereditary status, meritocratic evaluations, and patronage. Simultaneously, polities like the Ming dynasty developed institutional means to acknowledge and whenever possible leverage differences such as ethnicity, gender, professional training, and relation to the throne.

This chapter explores the career of Wu Kezhong from 1418, the year he succeeded his father’s investiture as Marquis of Gongshun, to 1449, the year he fell in combat. Like his father, Wu Kezhong served the Ming throne as a Mongolian specialist and military commander. Batu-Temür had offered his loyalty to the Ming throne at the head of some 5,000 supporters, and Wu Kezhong too acted as a patron and protector for the Mongolian community. Despite such similarities, both the dynasty and the place of Mongols in the polity were changing. Wu Kezhong was among the first generation of his family to live through imperial successions as first the Yongle and then Xuande emperor died, leaving the throne to new sovereigns who actively sought the support of proven commanders such as Wu Kezhong. The new sovereigns, especially the man for whom Wu Kezhong and his brother died, differed importantly from their forefathers not only in their styles of rulership but also in their policies. That mattered because, even more than his father, Wu Kezhong pursued patronage through imperial institutions, which required knowledge of salary structures, commutation rates, and the shifting balance of power at court.

This chapter begins with Wu Jijue’s early years and upbringing, including his family and his education, with an eye toward the strategies that capital elites like the Wu family used to protect their status. It then turns to his long – nearly half a century – career in the capital and the provinces. As the sovereign’s man, Wu Jijue – like all merit nobles – performed a wide variety of tasks, and this chapter offers a series of snapshots to give a sense of the range of his duties, including (1) ritual officiant, (2) envoy to princely courts, (3) regional commander, and (4) participant in imperial reviews. The following chapter traces Wu Jijue’s service as a senior administrator in key military institutions with special attention to the light it sheds on the dynasty’s regularized assessment and reward of administrative performance.