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In 1788, John Marshall made a prediction that was more prescient than he realized: The federal courts the new Constitution called for would be “the means of preventing disputes with foreign nations.” Marshall could not have known it, but for the next several decades international disputes over persons, ships, and goods caught up in maritime war would wash onto American shores, and into federal courtrooms. The courts’ decisions were essential to the United States’ emergence as a sovereign and independent nation. But preoccupation with Marshall’s famous constitutional rulings has obscured this story of judicial nation-building at sea. And while we have grown accustomed to the idea that “foreign affairs” are the domain of the legislative and executive branches, the political leaders who first tried to solve the puzzle of constitutional governance did not hew to such rigid notions of institutional responsibility. If Marshall’s legacy is the establishment of both judicial and national authority, this book shows that he and his contemporaries did so, first and foremost, at sea.
Joseph Story thought that the United States needed more than courts to vindicate its independence in the War of 1812. The youngest justice on the Supreme Court also believed that the nation needed legal doctrines that would support its aspirations to global power. For decades, American policymakers – and especially the Court under John Marshall – had defended the rights of neutral nations to trade peaceably in wartime. That approach made sense when a militarily weak but commercially vigorous United States sought to profit from trade with European powers embroiled in conflict. But now that the United States itself was at war, Story envisioned a different national future, in which a robust military and strong central government were the foundation of American sovereignty. The split that emerged on the Court over neutral and belligerent rights reflected a generational divide over how to preserve and extend American independence, and it fractured the Marshall Court’s prior unanimity. Despite Marshall’s resistance, Story persuaded his colleagues to adopt doctrines that favored the rights of nations at war, pushing the courts – and the country – to assume a more assertive presence at sea.
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.
Americans understood the importance of establishing judicial authority over maritime war from the moment they began resisting British hegemony in the 1770s. The states’ unwillingness to prevent American seafarers from violating the rights of foreigners during the American Revolution provoked diplomatic controversies that undermined the drive for independence. After the war, supporters and skeptics of the new Constitution fiercely debated its creation of a federal judiciary. Anti-Federalist critics feared the centralizing and despotic tendencies of life-tenured judges who would be “subject to no control.” But even the “most bigotted idolizers of state authority,” Alexander Hamilton famously wrote in The Federalist, agreed that the federal courts should have exclusive authority over maritime cases. If Americans truly wanted a government that could fulfill the nation’s international obligations and maintain harmony with other sovereigns, they needed a judiciary with the power to resolve disputes arising at sea.
To say that the 1960s were a time of upheaval for Americans is, by now, a cliché. Yet for American Catholics in particular, the disruption was twofold. In addition to all of the profound social and political changes that one associates with “the Sixties,” Catholics found themselves faced with a Church that was undergoing a transformation. The Second Vatican Council, which one church historian has described as the “most significant religious event” in five centuries, begat striking alterations in the ancient Church. It was, according to another, “the defining event of the Catholic Sixties.” In the same year that the Council concluded – 1965 – President Lyndon Johnson decided to commit 200,000 troops to fight the war in Vietnam.
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.
How should Jewish settlers live in the new environment? This question preoccupied early Zionist professionals, seeking to employ science in the service of Jewish “acclimatization.” This article focuses on the work of a specific man of science: nutrition scholar Moshe Wilbushewich, who lived and worked in Palestine since 1924 until his death in 1952. Much of Wilbushewich’s work in the interwar period was devoted to investigating the question, how to compensate for the physical inferiority of Jewish- compared to Arab workers, through nutrition and psychotechnics. As a scholar of nutrition, he performed scientific analyses of ingredients and dishes from the Palestinian kitchen and encouraged Jewish settlers to adopt some of them to make their nutrition more adjusted to the conditions of the land, and hence more “rational.” As I show, although Zionist experts embraced an environmental approach to “revitalizing” Jewish bodies, their perceptions were nonetheless shaped by assumptions about racial difference and hierarchy– between Arabs and Jews, and between Ashkenazi and Sephardi Jews.
Antiwar protest and debate about morality both increase with the US invasion of Cambodia. The killings at Kent State University unleash protests at numerous Catholic colleges and universities. An increasing number of clergy, religious, and even bishops speak out against the war. Pressure builds on the hierarchy to issue a definitive statement of the morality of the war. At year’s end, the bishops issue their “Resolution on Southeast Asia,” which finally does so.
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 ontological complexity of the twentieth-century Cold War motivates this special issue’s investigation of how social scientists conceptualize institutional novelty and change. We begin by noting the peculiar elision of the Cold War as an explanatory mechanism in mainstream sociology, even while sociologists have theoretical tools for making sense of the phenomenon: war, schema, field, world systems, and empire. All are useful; none are sufficient. We locate the explanatory problem in a tension between notions of structure and event that has organized debate in historical social science for several scholarly generations, and offer a new intellectual tool – medium durée – as a way forward. Medium durée describes phenomena that have sufficient cohesion as ideas and relationships to endure over time, yet remain sufficiently unfixed and ambiguous as to enable multifarious action and sensemaking. Our notion of medium durée is substantially informed by the articles and commentaries assembled for this special issue, which represent three years of dialogue among the authors as well as audiences in serial panels at the 2022 and 2023 annual meetings of the Social Science History Association.