Writing ‘Big History’ is quite unfashionable these days, a function of hyper-specialisation among historians. Christopher Lascelles in his new book ‘A Short History of the World’ has bucked the trend and attempts to summarise human history in 160 pages, no easy task.

The book does not offer a unifying theme of human history; there is no ‘theory of history’ here. Instead, Lascelles’ stated goal is to write a ‘short and succinct yet broad overview of the key developments and events in the history of mankind.’ And this goal is met with success.

The book seeks to provide a ‘simplified linear whole’, connecting the bits of history we’re all supposed to know in one self-contained volume. From a quick chapter describing the Big Bang to the evolution of humans (via frogs?!), to a pondering of “what’s next” in a concluding chapter, the reader is taken across millions of years and around the world via Lascelles’ selected historical hotspots.

Those short on time will appreciate this collection of summaries but the real value of ‘A Short History of the World’ is the way its sections are organised and connected. The book largely avoids feeling totally disjointed as it switches between topics and places, and this is what makes the book so easy to read.

There is a heavy focus on people and events, rather than other aspects of history such as everyday life, ideas, and emotions. When nothing ‘important’ happens there seems to be little to report. Furthermore, there is a lot of history left out or oversimplified. But this is not necessarily a criticism; the reader of a ‘short history’ surely understands this limitation. Lascelles has written this book to be short, accessible, yet wide-ranging. These are conflicting goals and with just 160 pages a vast amount of history must be left out.

Lascelles does find space to explore a number of inflection points in history, for example: the defeat of the Moorish army at the Battle of Tours in 732; the victory of the Normans over a weakened Harold at the Battle of Hastings in 1066; the death of Mongol leader Ogedei and the sparing of Vienna in 1241. This serves as a reminder that history is not simply a story to be told. Our world would be vastly different but for luck, untimely deaths, and the weather.

Overall, ‘A Short History of World’ is perfect for a quick read to brush up on the global history you are supposed to know. The reader will become conversant in world history but not an expert. I hope the busy people who this book was clearly written for will use it as a platform for further exploration of themes, periods, or civilisations that piqued their interest in this well-written text.

In a blog post from 2010, Dan Cohen referred to the then brand-new Google Books Ngram Viewer as a ‘gateway drug’ into the digital humanities (http://www.dancohen.org/2010/12/19/initial-thoughts-on-the-google-books-ngram-viewer-and-datasets/). I’ve been playing around with it recently and I’m hooked.

I really like the graph above as it is a great visualisation of a portion of the argument in my dissertation literature review. In it, I argue that the Committee on the Present Danger is too often seen by historians exclusively in the context of the neoconservative movement. The CPD did play an important role in the development of the neocon movement, but this is a narrow interpretation of the CPD’s significance.

Instead, I suggest that the Committee on the Present Danger needs to be better understood for what it was; an organisation that opposed detente and successfully influenced the Carter Administration’s policymaking through re-popularising the ‘Soviet Threat’ in mainstream political discourse. By focusing so heavily on its neoconservative legacy the actual successes of the CPD have been largely ignored since the mid-1980s, when a number of political scientists assessed the influence of the group on the SALT II ratification debate and President Reagan’s initial defense policies.

The Ngram viewer screenshot seems to corroborate this view. Neoconservatism as a topic of interest to scholars has grown steadily from its emergence in the mid-1970s, especially after 2000 when many neocons joined the Bush Administration. Instances of the Committee on the Present Danger in Google Books data, however, peaked in the mid-1980s before a slow decline.

This is not a surprising find. The ongoing importance of the Neoconservative movement would generate more interest from scholars than the CPD. But now that the Committee on the Present Danger Papers are open for research there is an opportunity to more critically assess the centrality of the CPD to the development of neoconservatism.

The CPD was much more than a ‘holding pen’ for neoconservatives, and the purpose of my own research is to better understand the actual achievements of the CPD. Only part of its significance was as a means for neoconservatives to enter debates on foreign policy. Just as important, yet currently under appreciated, was the Committee on the Present Danger’s success in reintroducing the concept of the ‘Soviet Threat’ into mainstream political discourse thus helping end detente, prevent the ratification of the SALT II treaty, and generate support for the higher defense spending of the Reagan Era.

Bradford Martin’s ‘The Other Eighties: A Secret History of America in the Age of Reagan
(Hill & Wang: New York, 2011)’ challenges the dominance of the ‘rise of conservatism’ theme in our understanding of the 1980s.

‘More than 40 percent of American voters demurred from sanctioning this movement, not to mention the roughly 50 percent of voting-age Americans who declined to exercise their right altogether.’ [p. x]

He seeks to demonstrate that there are additional movements that developed in the decade, including the Nuclear Freeze Campaign, environmentalism, the opposition to America’s wars, Feminism; all representing the ‘other’ 1980s.

I was particularly interested in Martin’s chapter on the Nuclear Freeze Campaign. The opposition to nuclear arms control in the 1970s, and in particular the Committee on the Present Danger, clearly oversold the threat of the Soviet Union and while a successful tactic in the short term, inciting such fear was to the detriment of their longer term goals.

The fear of Communism was balanced with a fear of nuclear war, which served not to create lasting support for high defense spending – as was hoped – but instead created a broad constituency for just the reverse; a nuclear freeze and, for many, outright abolition.

The importance of the movement, Martin points out, was that ‘the freeze debate successfully eroded the nuclear priesthood’s aura of expertise and opened up national discourse on disarmament and national security policy.’ [p. 23]

When Ronald Reagan surprised many of his conservative allies by taking seriously his dream of abolishing nuclear weapons while negotiating with Gorbachev in the mid-1980s, it was this movement that had demonstrated (quite literally, on June 12, 1982, with a 750,000 crowd) that he could expect public support.

Martin’s book shows that we should move beyond a characterisation of the 1980s as a simple narrative of the rise of conservatism. Its increase in popularity is true, but it also sparked opposition in a variety of issues, by a variety people, in a variety of locales. And this is an important legacy of the 1980s just as much as the ‘Reagan Revolution’ itself.

See: The Other Eighties: A Secret History of America in the Age of Reagan

Last week at the Ford Presidential Library I came across some fun memos and documents. Transcriptions of official government meetings often begin with ‘[Preceded by small talk.]‘ But when this ‘small talk’ is included it can be quite interesting, and is sometimes pretty funny.

If nothing else, it reminds us that beyond the nuclear stand-off and ideological confrontation, people were dealing with people. Delegations shared jokes and got to know each other. It was an aspect of Cold War diplomacy that is easy to overlook.

I enjoyed reading the ‘small talk’ whenever possible, and here is one of my favourites; a conversation between Henry Kissinger and Leonid Brezhnev on January 22, 1976, in The Kremlin.

Brezhnev: Maybe we could proceed a little faster today.
Kissinger: All right.
Brezhnev: Here is a match. [He lights a match and makes a motion to ignite all his talking papers.]
Kissinger: I thought you were going to bring out your cannon.
Brezhnev: There is a cannon in my office?
Kissinger: You threatened me with it last time.
Brezhnev: As long as America threatens us, we have to threaten America. We now have MIRVed warheads on that cannon. And one is aimed at your house.
Kissinger: I’d better get my dog out of there. [Laughter]
Brezhnev: [Looks through his papers] You have an enormous number of forces. Horrors! I can’t imagine where you get them all. And so many in Europe.
Kissinger: If your generals count like our generals Mr. General Secretary, there will be an amazing computation.
…
Brezhnev: Earlier Dr. Kissinger said he was afraid of me. I want to say I’m afraid of him. So I guess I’d better give him more of these cookies, to make him kinder. [He passes over a plate of snacks.]

I was on a panel last night presenting some ideas on online social networking for historians. Here is a summary:

I don’t see myself as an expert, but I also think that no-one can be. Social media tools are just that, tools. They can be used in different ways to different ends by different users. That is the strength of all these platforms. I was asked how my online involvement had benefitted me as an academic. Clearly, the relevance of online social networking to the history profession was not apparent to everyone, but I hope I explained why it most certainly is.

Building networks and creating communities can only help the historian. Twitter, for example, doesn’t have to be – and shouldn’t be – a discussion on what you had for lunch. There is already a community of historians who are happy to connect and help each other. I’ve discussed research methodologies, shared links, been sent relevant research material, and vented through twitter. In essence, I’ve collaborated with other historians online, and that’s important. I’m also certain this level of collaboration will increase with time and as my own understanding of what can be done online improves.

My own journey was a long one, perhaps stereotypical. I joined. I watched. I dabbled. I participated. I’m now all in. It’s clear, as with most things in life, that the more you put in the more you get out.

I look forward to more and more historians taking the plunge and building their online communities. Historians have a lot to offer not just each other, but a much wider audience. Getting online and participating in communities is something every historian should be doing to share their skills and expertise. Good things will happen. It’s not something that might be worth doing in the future, it’s something to do right now.

Historians of the world unite (online)!

The ‘SALT II Debate’, the argument over the ratification of a nuclear arms control treaty in the late-1970s, was fought with passion on both sides. While the ‘pro-treaty’ postion maintained that any control was better than none, the ‘anti-treaty’ stance was that a sub-optimal deal was simply not worth signing.

The treaty debate was highly abstract. Disagreements centered around throw-weight, circular-area-probable, MIRVing, SLCMs, GLCMs; all terms that meant little to anyone outside of the small number of people that actually thought about these issues.

While both sides in the debate thought that ‘reason’ would ultimtaely lead their position to victory over ratification, the need to make the argument accessible often resulted in sloganeering and over-simplification, sometimes in imagery.

I found the poster here in the Committee on the Present Danger Papers at the Hoover Institution. It was produced by the American Security Council and was included in materials they distributed, which opposed ratification of the SALT II treaty.

The image contrasts the few, white weapons of the American arsenal, with the numerous, large, dark missiles of the Soviets. The implication is that the Soviet weapons are plentiful and menacing in contrast to their U.S. counterparts. The ASC argument – and also the Committee on the Present Danger’s – was that SALT II should be opposed because the American strategic arsenal needed to be larger in number and in size to match the Soviet force.

Whatever we think about the SALT II debate – whether the treaty should or should not have been ratified – the simplistic notion that more and larger missile-types were needed was disingenuous. Many Soviet missiles were bigger for two important reasons. Firstly, because the Soviet advantage was making big missiles with big warheads, the ‘upgrading’ of forces generally meant making their missiles capable of carrying a larger warhead with greater destructive power. Secondly, because circuitry technology was inferior, meaning guidance systems were less accurate, Soviet nuclear weapons needed to be more destructive to account for the fact that they were less likely to land near their hardened target.

This poster, then, actually depicts American parity, if not superiority. More accurate American weapons could be smaller as a less destructive warhead was required. The U.S. had fewer missile variants because it retired its obsolete models; a more cost efficient method than continually adding to the missile-stock. (This was often characterised as ‘unilateral disarmament’ by SALT II critics.)

Imagery often requires interpretation to have meaning and it was not provided with this American Security Council poster.

Further Reading: Strobe Talbott, Endgame: The Inside Story of Salt II (1980)

http://www.retronaut.co/2012/01/soviet-peace-with-the-usa-posters-1980s/

After gaining power in March 1985, Mikhail Gorbachev desperately attempted to reform the Soviet Union intending to end chronic economic under-performance.

I like this poster series (featured on the Retronaut website) because it provides a visual dimension to this effort towards change and reform. The poster I’ve featured particularly interests me as it clearly demonstrates the linkage that Gorbachev stressed between disarmament and a better future. Fewer missiles will mean more trees: a simple message.

This was part of the attempt of the Reformers to demilitarise Soviet society. Previously, the threat from the West had been stressed to justify and maintain support for high military expenditure. Gorbachev undertook a kind of ‘deprogramming’ effort to reorientate the ‘East vs. West’ conflict away from confrontation and towards a ‘normalisation’ of relations intending to give the Soviet Union space to reform.

Further Reading: Kotkin, S., ‘Armageddon Averted: The Soviet Collapse, 1970-2000, (OUP: New York, 2008).
Find in a library or, Buy from Amazon

Dealing with scholarship on Ronald Reagan can be difficult. Using just book titles, it is often a challenge to differentiate between serious attempts to understand the administration of the 40th President and efforts that simply bask in his glory. I’ve fallen into the trap before, but I recently tried James Mann’s ‘The Rebellion of Ronald Reagan‘ and it most definitely fits into the former category.

Grappling with the ‘triumphalist’ paradigm, Mann’s book recognises Reagan’s ‘crucial role’, even if ‘Gorbachev played the leading role’ [1]. The U.S. President buttressed Gorbachev’s position, facilitating the progressive reforms that would ultimately lead to the end of the Cold War. Reagan’s contributions were important, and he should be credited for his role, but Gorbachev’s actions were vital.

That is the overall argument of ‘Rebellion‘. But I was most interested in Mann’s analysis of Reagan’s changing attitude towards the Soviet Union. The Committee on the Present Danger was extremely proud to count Reagan among its membership prior to 1980 presidential campaign. Reagan certainly appears to have been an enthusiastic supporter; fully 32 Committee on the Present Danger officials joined the new administration [2]. However, within a few short years a number of these figures had left, including Committee on the Present Danger Executive Board Members, Richard Pipes and Eugene Rostow. Reagan had moved on.

The message of the Committee on the Present Danger in the late 1970s, I would argue, encapsulated a moment in U.S. history; the fear of U.S. decline and of Soviet ascendency. But, contrary to Committee plans, this fear would not rebuild the anti-Communist consensus of the late 1940s. Reagan began to understand that this represented a static view of the world. The universal truth of ‘freedom’ in which he believed meant he could look beyond Soviet totalitarianism. He really meant it when he spoke of Communism as ‘a sad and bizarre chapter in human history’, and he was eager to help turn the page [3].

The ‘Rebellion’ in Mann’s title, therefore, refers to Reagan’s disagreement with ‘traditional’ conservatives. As President he could perceive that change was not simply desirable, but actually possible. The Committee on the Present Danger, as just one example, was too dogmatic to appreciate that Gorbachev’s Soviet Union was evolving, so focused was it on the ‘Strategic Balance’.

Reagan, in this account, deserves praise. Mann does not commit himself in the debate on whether Reagan had a clear vision, or instead acted on ‘crafty instinct’, but argues that it hardly matters [4]. The traditional conservative view in the late-1980′s was clearly resistant to Reagan’s conciliatory approach, but it was exactly this approach that allowed Gorbachev to take the reform path.

True to form, the Committee on the Present Danger, as late as the early 1990s, continued to label the Soviet Union as America’s greatest threat and advised against conciliation. Not because of ‘loose nukes’, but because its military was still capable of invading Western Europe.

For whatever reason, Reagan was able to transcend this type of traditional Cold War thinking. Groups including the Committee on the Present Danger could not, or did not want to, make this shift. Reagan deserves credit for his ability to look beyond the stereotype of the Soviet Bear, even if, as Mann concludes, it does not make him the pivotal figure in the end of the Cold War.

[1] Mann, J., ‘A History of the End of the Cold War: The Rebellion of Ronald Reagan‘, (Penguin Books: New York, 2010), p. 346
[2] The Committee on the Present Danger, ‘The Fifth Year and the New Administration‘, 1980, in the Hoover Archives, CPD Papers, Box 177
[3] ‘Ronald Reagan: In His Own Words‘, BBC News, 06-06-2004, [http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/americas/3780871.stm], accessed 13-01-2012
[4] Mann, ‘Rebellion of Ronald Reagan‘, p.342

So, after attending THATCamp at AHA 2012, I’m fully convinced of the need to blog. Thanks to Dan Cohen for that, I needed a guilt-trip-as-impetus.

Why blog?

Mostly because there’s little reason not to. Who doesn’t want their research to reach a wider audience? Why wouldn’t an academic want to share their ideas, get feedback, and hone writing skills? My two take-away pieces of advice from Dan Cohen’s ‘Intro to Blogging’ workshop: make choices on style and content, and stick to them. I’ll try.

Posts will appear on Cold War history – quite a bit on the Committee on the Present Danger I expect – and on ‘doing’ history as a PhD candidate.

I don’t promise to blog daily or even weekly, but I will write posts when they need to be written!

In the words of WordPress; ‘Hello World.’

Time on the road is precious. I’m hoping to get through as much archival material as possible so I’m taking the ‘lightening tour’ approach to research; if in doubt, take a picture.

Thankfully the Hoover Institution now allows cameras in the reading room and I’m taking my trusty 5mp digital camera on my upcoming trip. It has a ‘micro’ setting, for close-in photos, and an auto-stabiliser function. I’ve splashed out on an AC adaptor, which means no switching between batteries all day. A 2gb SD disc should be enough for one day of snaps before processing in the evening.

The key to this system is a ‘table-top monopod‘. It attaches to the camera and clamps to the desktop, which should ensure a sharp image for each shot. Once the shot has been set up once, it will stay in place ready for the next document.

The idea is to then take a picture of *anything* that might be interesting. I can read the document when I get home; it’s quicker to just take the photo. For each new file and box, I’ll take a picture of a note with the correct details for what is to be pictured next.

The Image Capture software on my Mac is easiest for importing the picture collection into a pre-prepared file system. Image Capture features the camera’s time stamp for each photo taken, which means you can be sure the order of the photographed material won’t be muddled up.

After two-weeks of following this method, I’ll have created a comprehensive digitised database and be able to process my collection at my leisure.