While reaction ruled, Germany was in the midst of rapid industrialization, urbanization, and overall modernization, and the Jews were often considered as prime agents of this development. However, a close look discloses Jewish communities living mainly in small towns, working in local commerce and in traditional branches of industry. Still, it seems that they were moving forward more quickly than others, more easily accepting change, enjoying more favorable demographic trends, and quickly improving their educational level. As a typical example, the chapter presents a sketch of one family history, that of the Liebermanns, who held on to their commercial interests in cotton and silk, but then slowly expanded to become larger-scale industrial entrepreneurs, centered in Berlin and later in Silesia too, gradually moving to more modern and more large-scale production sectors. On the whole, the Jewish way of modernization added one more route to the multiple varieties of such routes in Germany. Through their unique perspective, the various possibilities of moving towards modernity are more easily perceived, enriching the overall picture of this process as a whole, especially in Germany.

Haitian poetry experienced a shift, beginning as early as the 1870s, away from nationally inspired themes toward a greater insistence on poetic form and a penchant for contemplative verse. Poets often pondered abstract notions like the passage of time or the mysteries of nature. Other times they chose to write from the anguish of personal experience, mourning the loss of love to death or betrayal. Their melancholic reflections were not necessarily devoid of politics. Poets Virginie Sampeur, Massillon Coicou, and Etzer Vilaire composed their own eclectic poetry years before contributing to the famous journal La Ronde. Theirs is a poetics of ‘disenchantment’, a term that permeates the pages of the journal and characterizes their reactions to Haiti’s distressing domestic and international political situation. I offer an assessment of these three key poets and of the journal, affirming and going beyond the idea of the ‘understated political aspect’ of the movement. I demonstrate that the politics occasioning and emanating from this poetry embody distinctly Haitian calls for literary perseverance, a prescient battle for national preservation to which La Ronde is dedicated.

Focusing on journalists’ training between 1960 and 2015, this chapter captures the enduring strength of colonial logic effectuated through nonjournalistic actors, such as the education field. It shows how curricula focused on Western canonical thought reinforce a sense of liminality in a field already perceived as out of touch. It discusses the role of journalism education in inculcating specific normative assumptions about how the fields should work on the continent. It argues that journalism education now, just as at the dawn of independence, is such that the profession is heavily moored on Western understandings of journalistic doxa.

This chapter examines novels by both male and female writers who published some of their mostprominent works in and around 1884, to address issues and themes that illustrate generalarguments about the 1880s and beyond. Authors and their works are presented as aheterogeneous group of men and women whose views pose multiple perspectives on theconnection between Argentine literature and politics. Miguel Cané, Eugenio Cambaceres, JuanaManuela Gorriti, Raimunda Torres y Quiroga, Antonio Argerich, and Lola Larrosa comment oneducation, reading, writing, literature, and family relations, reflecting the frenetic changes inWestern industrialized societies at the end of the nineteenth century, as well as the globalanxieties that these transformations brought to individuals across classes and territories. Theformation of Argentine literature can only be thought of as an unfinished process, with multiplesources, and in connection with other nations and regions. Setting the year 1884 as themoment in which to find the literary bases of the Argentine canon is an exercise that allows usto trace, instead of a clear origin for Argentine national literature, the germ of multiple possibleaccounts of its foundation.

The year 1963 is special for Julio Cortázar: he publishes Rayuela (Hopscotch) and visits revolutionary Cuba. The year before one of his stories was adapted into a film (La cifra impar [Odd Number]) and, as Ángel Rama points out in his essay “El boom en perspectiva” (included in the volume Más allá del boom: literatura y mercado) the sales of his books start to increase steadily: 10,500 in 1964, 49,000 en 1967, almost 80,000 in 1969. The Rayuela phenomenon is but one in a myriad transformations that were taking place in the cultural and literary fields: the end of the chasm that had separated mass audiences from Argentinean literature, the Latin-Americanization of the intellectual and artistic fields, the transformation of the publishing industry with the rise of Editorial Sudamericana, among others (in 1962 Eudeba’s edition of Martín Fierro had become a bestseller). Starting with Rayuela and other works published those years (such as Manuel Mujica Lainez’s Bomarzo, which shared the Kennedy prize with Cortázar’s novel), this chapter questions the relationship between fiction and politics in a very troubled period of Latin American history.

Chapter 5 is the first of three chapters concerned with the institutional development of the gacaca courts, their formation and deformation. In conjunction, these chapters chart the transition from legalism to lawfare in post-genocide Rwanda, one of two explanatory pathways traced in the book. By carefully dissecting the temporally and spatially embedded mechanisms and processes by which elites of the Rwandan Patriotic Front maneuvered to create modified arrangements of things past, these chapters excavate the microfoundations of the authoritarian rule of law in Rwanda. This chapter traces the obscure beginnings of the idea of gacaca in pre-genocide Rwanda, then accounts for the modernization of this social imaginary in the late 1990s.

How regions emerge as political, social and economic entities, how they are conceptualized and how they come to provide a basis for identities around which political relations are configured are the major themes of this chapter. It includes an account of the idea of regional society in conceptualizing regional formations as well as attention to the role of area studies in the post-war period of decolonization and the Cold War. Also implicated in the emergence of area studies is the modernization paradigm that continues to underpin ideas about regional development in the global South. The final section addresses the framework for analysis offered by postcolonial approaches and suggests that the lens needs to be adjusted to take account of important instances of non-Western colonialism in Oceania while also offering a more critical perspective on the often taken-for-granted binaries of colonizer–colonized, domination–subordination, and repression–resistance.

Fundamentals of our National Polity (Kokutai no hongi), where these quotations are from, was published by Japan’s education ministry in March 1937, months before the nation plunged into war against China and, subsequently, the Second World War.1 A portable canon of imperial ideology, the Fundamentals attacked the alien ideas that had become too prominent in Japanese society, particularly “individualism, which is the root of modern Occidental ideologies.”2 Yet the booklet contained more than simple propaganda; by instructing the imperial subjects to reaffirm their loyalty to the emperor and the nation, it reflected the Japanese state’s attempt to enlist citizens in its revolt against the West. As such, the pamphlet provides a useful historic vantage point. It illuminates, retrospectively, what had gone wrong in Japan’s quest for modernity over the preceding eight decades, which ended in an all-out confrontation with the Allied powers.

This chapter explores the limits of Lyndon Johnson’s capacity to empathize with and understand the peoples of the decolonizing world during his presidency and the implications of his experience for the America he left behind. It traces Johnson’s view of the decolonizing world in the context of the Cold War, showing how his understanding of revolutionary nationalism and the social, political, and economic problems left behind by European colonialism evolved – or failed to evolve – alongside his increasingly progressive definition of democracy at home. Acknowledging his truly ambitious vision of a “global Great Society,” which promised innovative global health, education, and anti-poverty initiatives to the Third World, the chapter ultimately shows how Johnson failed to fulfill his promises to redefine US national interests in the world around compassion for the marginalized. Instead, in his dealings with Third World leaders, he often reverted to the kind of transactional power politics that had served him so well in the Senate, failing to see how central the value of self-determination was to anti-colonial movements and their representatives. In the final analysis, this chapter uses Johnson’s example to investigate the limitations of compassion in US foreign relations more broadly.

European imperialism in Pacific Asia not only displaced China as the center of its neighbors’ attention but it splintered the region as well. This was sharp connectivity. France established French Indochina, the Dutch tightened their control of Indonesia, the British took over Malaya and Burma, and all of them had pieces of a disintegrating China. Japan avoided colonization and created its own empire, beginning with Korea and Taiwan. China became the vulnerable edge of a global frame, a frame centered on Europe that included the pieces of Pacific Asia. China’s population was now seen as an impediment to modernization, and its artisanal production was swamped by Western mass production. The US replaced European segmented globalization with a hub-and-spoke globalism rimmed by newly sovereign states. Meanwhile, the People’s Republic of China remained a mostly insignificant other to its neighbors until Deng Xiaoping’s policies took hold. The salience of China’s presence, population, and production began to rise, and China had become a significant other to its region by 1998. But the US remained the center of an unquestioned global order until the financial crisis of 2008.

This chapter charts the emergence of an anti-feudal disocurse of property modernization and the newly indpendent republics of Latin America. While the tones and the arguments of this anti-feudal discourse echoed the assault on feudal property in the metropole, the intellectual sources and the material interests of the detractors of feudalism in Latin America were far more complex. The liberal creole elites drew upon a vast and diverse political-economy literature that went beyond the obvious canonical authors of the French Enlightenment and included semi-peripheral regional traditions, such as the Neapolitan Enlightenment, that more closely resonated with their specific concerns about underdevelopment and metropolitan-satellite relations. Committed to agricultural improvement but also reluctant to undo the semi-feudal relations of production that allowed the landed elite to extract profit from the peasantry, jurists crafted a system that combined feudal property and modern dominium.

The Middle East’s modernization drives initiated in the 1800s transferred power in stages from clerics to secular officials. Turkey’s secularization under Atatürk and İnönü is the boldest effort in this vein. Other ambitious campaigns occurred in Iran under the Pahlavis, Egypt under Nasser, and Tunisia under Bourguiba. These regimes might have been expected to facilitate exits from Islam, radically reinterpret the Quran, and broaden religious freedoms generally. In fact, they simply made it easy to ignore Islam. Their ideal was to have citizens disconnect their public selves from religion, and they felt justified in imposing their preferences on the masses. Indeed, they treated certain Islamic practices as archaic and drove them out of the public realm. Just as heterodox Muslims were once repressed as heretics or apostates, so now under secular leaders the pious were persecuted as obscurantists. In the process, modernizers constricted all discourses on Islam. Quashing dissent on religious policies, they effectively replaced one form of religious repression with another. Some secularists considered their illiberal policies transitional. Religiosity would decline with economic development, they believed, and worldviews would become secularized. But resistance from the pious led, instead, to a softening of secularist repression.

The chapter provides an overview of the infrastucture concept and argues that it is both an economic and a political concept. It provides an overview of the interdisciplinary literature on infrastructure since the 1990s and situates the book in the debate about laissez-faire and the literature on the American state, taking the side of those who have argued in favor of deeper roots of the American state in the nineteenth century. It also provides chapter summaries and overviews.

The 1980s saw a revival of infrastructure as a theme in American politics. This reflected a decline in federal investment and inspired concerns about decline in the fate of America’s future. Soon after Ronald Reagan took office, politicians and experts took to the stage to make the case for renewed infrastructure investment. In the midst of our perennial debates over fiscal politics, many have looked to the New Deal as a source of inspiration, a reminder of the possibilities that lie in concerted government action in the public good. Infrastructure’s best centrist case as an object of public investment lies in economic growth and development, supplying a foundation or precursor to other activities that are considered valuable, such as innovation, trade, jobs, etc. social liberals will want to broaden the category of infrastructure in ways that fit within their vision of good government as an agent of advance. Fiscal conservatives, on the other hand, may worry that infrastructure is just a “gobbledygook” term for pork barrel, tax-and-spend politics, and a displacement of the private sector by government. The recent debate over President Biden’s infrastructure legislation reflects these dynamics.

Chapter 3 presents significant new background material that is critical for understanding research evaluation systems in Central and Eastern Europe. The chapter builds from the assertion that the history of research evaluation has been written largely from a Western perspective that has neglected science in the context of the Soviet Union and Imperial Russia. As a consequence, the beginnings of the scientific organization of scientific labor and the development of scientometrics in the first half of the twentieth century are missing from the literature. Related, research evaluation systems are often incorrectly characterized as technologies which came into existence forty years ago, introducing new ways of establishing relations between the state and the public sector. Aiming to correct these oversights, the chapter provides an in-depth analysis of research evaluation within the centrally planned science of the Soviet Union and countries of the Eastern Bloc. Thus it outlines how, decades before the rise of New Public Management and the first Western European systems, centrally planned science introduced a national (ex ante) research evaluation system and assessments of research impacts.

The chapter provides an overview of the burgeoning historiography of the People’s Republic of China, especially of the early period between 1949 and 1978, and suggests how we might integrate this new work into narratives of the Chinese past and present. In working through the research of the past thirty years the findings not only help us identify new areas of research, bur also rephrase some of the initial questions. The chapter highlights areas in which reconsidering PRC history seems especially necessary: transnational flows, violence and social transformation.

“Histories” shows how Persian literary histories emerged from modernizing historiographers’ engagement with the tazkirah, a premodern Persianate genre of literary anthology. The contradictions the tazkirahs posed served as an invitation to produce literary history, in opposition to what modernizers saw as deficiencies in the premodern tazkirah tradition. These contradictions and deficiencies included the fact that tazkirah writers did not see history as linear, progressive, and teleological, nor was historical accuracy necessarily a concern of theirs. This chapter examines how modernizing intellectuals changed conceptions of "history," turned premodern Persian literature into national heritage, and transformed premodern scholars into national heroes.