Thomas Fudge's recent book, Matthew Spinka, Howard Kaminsky, and the Medieval Hussites (Lexington Books, 2021) contains three different books that sit together somewhat uneasily. Primarily, this is an impassioned argument for the relevance of Hussite studies to the study of the medieval period as a whole. To this plea are appended two biographies of ground-breaking Anglophone scholars of the Hussite movement, Matthew Spinka and Howard Kaminsky. This rather unusual grouping of subjects is meant to accomplish a unified goal: to illustrate “the historiographical evolution of the Hussites” (3) while addressing the subject of writing history more generally. But there is a discernible edge here: Fudge is really writing about how Hussite scholarship ought to be done.
Divided among chapters 1, 2, and 5, the historiographical reflection seeks to answer the question “Why study the Hussites?” The author argues that the “Hussite movement is integral to understanding the general history of medieval Europe,” and even that it was “a critical event for the development of western civilization.” (9) I do not think this is as controversial as the book makes it sound; most medieval surveys tend to contain a mention of Jan Hus and the rebellion that he had inspired.
For that reason, I think Fudge is really arguing along slightly different lines, namely against scholars who discourage Anglophone research on the Hussites. Who these scholars are is made abundantly clear. They are
medieval Czech historians [who] form a fortified castle and the castle keep is defended by Hussite specialists who protect the essence of a culture that paradoxically reflects an air of superiority belied by a nagging uneasiness of inferiority. The result is intellectual isolationism often animated by a blinkered Soviet style ideology and driven by nationalist arguments and commitments. (21)
These are some fighting words, but Fudge is not wrong here. The Czech Academy has long considered Anglophone scholars of Hus to be interlopers on their sacred territory and has seldom accepted them into their fold. Fudge illustrates his point on the example of Spinka and Kaminsky, who refused to “rely on precedent or traditional understandings” (22). What Fudge is arguing is that Spinka and Kaminsky (true greats in Hussite studies by anyone's reckoning) were great because they refused to follow the well-worn ruts of Czech-speaking Hussite research.
Their biographies occupy chapters 3 and 4, respectively. They focus on the historians’ academic pursuits with other aspects of their lives mentioned only as related to their development as historians. This approach results in two somewhat selective chapters that seem driven by Fudge's own interests in the historians. However, both biographies contain robust discussions of their subject's published work, which are helpful as are summaries of their important contributions to the Hussite scholarship. Thus we find out that Spinka's main contribution was to demonstrate that “a native Czech reform tradition had existed long before Wyclif appeared in Bohemia” (78), which had long been a contested issue. Kaminsky, in turn, is praised for maintaining that “medieval society cannot be studied in terms of modern constructs” (174) and for concluding that the Hussite movement was “both a form of reformation and manifestation of revolution” (182).
As much as I enjoyed the biographies, their usefulness is limited. They are too short and patchy to offer an in-depth treatment in the manner of Robert Lerner's recent biography of Ernst Kantorowicz. And while Fudge collects an impressive array of documents, and the previously unpublished photographs are fun, my main concern is that the biographies are crafted to serve an agenda. Without fail, they praise those achievements that the author himself has championed (often over against a staunch opposition from Czech-speaking scholars). Furthermore, where Spinka and Kaminsky diverge from the author's own perspective, they are criticized. Most notably, Fudge takes on Spinka for not being able to “conceive that Hus was heretical” (114), unlike Fudge, who dedicated an entire book to Hus's heresy trial and concluded that Hus was indeed guilty as charged. And so one begins to suspect that the biographies are put forth as evidence that it is by disagreeing with established Hussite orthodoxies (as professed among Czech scholars) that scholarly greatness can emerge. And while this may be true, here it is based entirely on the author's own views of what does and does not constitute a great contribution to Hussite studies.
In conclusion, Fudge's book introduces two leading Anglophone scholars of the Hussite era and highlights their contributions to the field while making an impassioned argument against the insularity of Czech academia. This is an important point that is no doubt applicable to other medieval sub-fields, in which scholars from the “home country” seek to exert an oversized influence on their field. However, the difficulty with this particular book is that I am not sure who it is actually intended for. As an introductory text to Hussite studies it is too convoluted and hard to read. As a message to well-informed practitioners it is not nuanced enough, and as a more general example of how biography informs historiography, it serves an overly specific agenda. All in all, in trying to do too many things, the book has not done any of them well. It is a shame, because Fudge's warning against ethnically motivated insularity in academic research is an important one, and I hope that it sparks a long overdue conversation among medievalists about how we might be able to combat it.
