Category Archives: history

Everything You Ever Wanted to Know About the Winter Solstice (But not really)

Posted on by
Reply

The Winter Solstice is the longest night of the year. In our calendaring system, it also marks the first night of winter.

But in many ancient European calendars, the solstice marked mid-winter. In Gaelic calendars, for example there were eight major calendar markers – though it’s disputed how greatly each was celebrated.

The eight markers were made up of the two solstices, the two equinoxes, and then four cross-quarter days – the days halfway between the a solstice and an equinox. These markers divided the year into eighths and governed what is now referred to as the Wheel of the Year.

We essentially still have eight year marker days, but they’ve shifted names and meaning.

Groundhog’s Day, for example, is essentially the cross-quarter day between the Winter Solstice and the Spring Equinox. Today, Groundhog’s Day marks the middle of winter – will the groundhog see his shadow? But more traditionally, it – or more properly Imbolc marked the end of winter and the beginning of spring.

I’ve never been quite clear on how the Solstice went from representing the middle of winter to representing the beginning of winter – perhaps it’s just one of those things, like the Great Vowel Shift.

Also, there was an interesting piece yesterday claiming that this year’s solstice was, in fact, the longest night EVER. Pointing to the continual slowing of the earth’s rotation, the article estimated that every year’s solstice was negligibly longer than the last.

Of course, that could only make me think of Office Space’s Peter Gibbons reflecting that “every single day of my life has been worse than the day before it. So that means that every single day that you see me, that’s on the worst day of my life.”

But, it turns out the original article is not quiet true. They quickly posted a correction, clarifying that while the earth’s rotation is trending towards slowing down, there’s actually quite a bit of year-to-year variation.

And by “quite a bit,” of course, I actually mean changes so miniscule that nobody without a properly calibrated device of some sort would ever know the difference.

In this graphic you can see the average length of a day charted over time. As you can see – maybe – “the longest night in Earth’s history likely occurred in 1912.”

So that was the longest night ever.

facebooktwittergoogle_plusredditlinkedintumblrmail

No Enemies

Posted on by
Reply

Years ago I ran across a poem by Charles Mackay. Finding it was entirely incidental – I was in grade school, I think, and it happened to be photocopied from the same page as Invicitus; the poem we were actually studying.

Nonetheless, the poem stuck with me:

You have no enemies, you say?
Alas! my friend, the boast is poor;
He who has mingled in the fray
Of duty, that the brave endure,
Must have made foes! If you have none,
Small is the work that you have done.
You’ve hit no traitor on the hip,
You’ve dashed no cup from perjured lip,
You’ve never turned the wrong to right,
You’ve been a coward in the fight.

facebooktwittergoogle_plusredditlinkedintumblrmail

The Moon Is Down

Posted on by
Reply

Periodically, along with other Tufts faculty and staff, I am asked to share a short book recommendation.

This time I recommended The Moon is Down by John Steinbeck. It’s one of those books I never seem to own because every time I get a copy I immediate give it away. I’m a big fan of Steinbeck, who, as a California native, I consider Steinbeck a “local boy.” This is one of his few books which doesn’t take place along the dusty plains of Salinas, but it may just be my favorite.

Here is the recommendation I submitted:

Published in 1942 and distributed illegally in Nazi-occupied France, this novel tells the story of the military invasion of a small, northern European town. Under cover of darkness the town is taken by surprise in a swift and bloodless maneuver. Wanting nothing more than a simple life, the townspeople initially accept the suppression of their democratically elected officials and consent to military rule. In the hopes of maintaining the town’s submission, military leaders seek to be benevolent in their rule. But a surface of civility masks a deeper oppression. As winter sets in, relationships begin to fray and the absence of democracy is more deeply felt. Steinbeck expertly details the motivations of townspeople and invaders alike, illustrating how subtle and insidious oppression can be. A tale of oppression and resistance, the Moon is Down inspires resisters everywhere to push for a truly free and democratic society.

There’s one line I really love in the book – [Spoiler Alert] – though since I never actually have a copy, I am left to rely on my memory and can only paraphrase here.

At the moment when it truly crystallizes for the townspeople that they are oppressed, when they realize just how much they have lost their freedom, Steinbeck writes:

It was as if a cry went through the town: Resist. Resist today. Resist tomorrow. Resist. Resist. Resist.

facebooktwittergoogle_plusredditlinkedintumblrmail

Non-Violence

Posted on by
Reply

It is easy to speak of non-violence when you have nothing at risk.

But what does it mean to truly embrace non-violence? To commit to love even when you have everything at risk?

Mohandas Gandhi, who is so rightly revered for his own commitment to non-violence, famously offered this reflection:

Hitler killed five million Jews. It is the greatest crime of our time. But the Jews should have offered themselves to the butcher’s knife. They should have thrown themselves into the sea from cliffs. As it is, they succumbed anyway in their millions.

By committing to non-violence, by voluntarily seeking their own death, Gandhi believed the massacre of the Jewish people “could be turned into a day of thanksgiving and joy that Jehovah had wrought deliverance of the race even at the hands of the tyrant.”

That is what a commitment to non-violence looks like.

I don’t mean to argue here that one shouldn’t have a commitment to non-violence. I have been fortunate enough to never have truly tested my mettle in this regard, so I honestly don’t know what is right. What I do know is that while non-violence certainly sounds good, it is not a devotion one should take on lightly.

Non-violence is a bold commitment.

A commitment to the power of love over the power of hate. A commitment to the rightness of peace over the corruptness of brutality. It is a willingness to sacrifice yourself – to sacrifice everything – in the name of a greater cause.

It is more than a commitment to peaceful protests or uplifting words. A true commitment to non-violence takes a great leap of faith, a belief that love – just love – has the greatest power of positive transformation.

It is greeting your killer with love in your heart.

In “Loving Your Enemies,” the great Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. said:

Love is creative, understanding goodwill for all men. It is the refusal to defeat any individual. When you rise to the level of love, of its great beauty and power, you seek only to defeat evil systems. Individuals who happen to be caught up in that system, you love, but you seek to defeat the system.

Perhaps more of us should do that. Perhaps more of us should put our faith in the power of love. Perhaps more of us should be willing to risk everything in embracing the transformative power of love.

But let’s not pretend that it is easy.

Let’s not pretend that it is obvious. And let’s not sit back in the comfort of our own homes and judge those who might turn to violence in the face of despair.

It is easy to speak of non-violence when you have nothing on the line.

facebooktwittergoogle_plusredditlinkedintumblrmail

All the Truth is Out

Posted on by
Reply

I attended a great talk last night with Matt Bai, author of All the Truth Is Out: The Week Politics Went Tabloid. The national political columnist for Yahoo News, Bai previously was the chief political correspondent for the New York Times Magazine where he covered three presidential campaigns.

His latest book covers the 1987 Gary Hart scandal, when the political career of this leading Democratic candidate “came crashing down in a blaze of flashbulbs, the birth of 24-hour news cycles, tabloid speculation, and late-night farce” as tails of his “womanizing” swept tabloids and mainstream press alike.

Bai argues that the Hart affair “marked a crucial turning point in the ethos of political media,” a point when candidates’ ‘character’ began to draw more fixation than their political experience.”

As the scandal grew in intensity, advisors told Hart to apologize, to be contrite in the face of overwhelming public opinion.

He did not.

As the Chicago Tribune reported in May 1987, “A defiant Gary Hart dropped out of the race for the 1988 Democratic presidential nomination on Friday, delivering an angry speech that blamed news media attention on his personal life for making his candidacy ‘intolerable.’”

The article continues, quoting Hart’s speech:

I say to my children and other frustrated, angry young people: I’m angry, too. I’ve made some mistakes. I said I would, because I’m human. And I did–maybe big mistakes, but not bad mistakes.

I refuse to submit my friends, my family and innocent people and myself to further rumors and gossip. It`s simply an intolerable situation,

I believe I would have been a successful candidate. I know that I would have been a very good president, particularly for these times. But apparently now we`ll never know.

We all better do something to make this system work or we’re all going to be soon rephrasing Jefferson to say, ‘I tremble for my country when I think we may in fact get the kind of leaders we deserve.’”

A journalist by training, Bai says his work is to tell an interesting story – not necessarily to present a specific argument. But the story of Gary Hart and the clash of political coverage and celebrity culture raises some interesting questions.

As Bai commented last night, ‘character’ has always been a consideration for political candidates, and it should be to some degree. The question is what should that character look like? How should it be judged?

That is to say, in the face of such intense media scrutiny, would you rather have a candidate who would drop out of the race – or choose to not enter politics – putting his family and friends before his political ambitions?

Or would you rather have the candidate who will say anything, do anything, be anything, to get elected?

Because in the political celebrity media environment, that’s the candidate we’re going to get. And perhaps we should tremble, for that is the candidate we deserve.

facebooktwittergoogle_plusredditlinkedintumblrmail

William Shakespeare’s Second Best Bed

Posted on by
Reply

Among nerds of a certain flavor, it’s a well known fact that in his will, Shakespeare left his wife his second best bed.

That is, in fact, the only mention of his wife in his will.

What’s particularly fun about this fact is that, like much of Shakespeare’s history, it’s a matter of some contention open to interpretation.

There is strong evidence that Shakespeare and his wife didn’t get along.

Perhaps the second best bed was intended as a rude gesture, intended to show just how little he cared.

Shakespeare’s defenders, of course, bristle at the notion that their champion could have been any less than a gentleman.

The second best bed is endearing, they argue. First off, under English Common Law the widow Anne Shakespeare was entitled to a third of her late husband’s estate. Shakespeare didn’t mention this because there was no need to mention it. At the time, it was obvious and implied.

Further still, some scholars have referenced other wills of the time – “the will of Sir Thomas Lucy, in 1600,” for example, “gives his son his second-best horse.” So, it’s fine. It’s just one of those things that made total sense at the time but sounds a little crazy now.

But, of course, Shakespeare loved his wife.

Well, to be honest, I don’t really care why Shakespeare left his wife his second best bed.

But I find the process of interpreting this action fascinating.

Shakespeare is such a intriguing figure – a man of whom we know so much and yet, of whom we know so little. So many aspects of his life are open for debate – did Shakespeare really write Shakespeare? Was Shakespeare gay?

To start asking these question is to dive down a rabbit hole of strong scholarly opinions and arguments. Of people with deep opinion who will never be swayed. They’ll dig up mountains of documentation to support their point of view and even more evidence to refute all dissenters. They will argue for hours – argue endlessly – and never consider ceding any ground.

This is, I suppose, not much different from other forms of scholarly exercise, and yet, I can’t help but notice, all this fuss is over a bed.

Well, a second best bed.

facebooktwittergoogle_plusredditlinkedintumblrmail

A Tragic Tale of Enclosure, Poetically Told

Posted on by
Reply

What does enclosure feel like from the inside, as a lived experience, as a community is forced to abandon its “old ways” and adopt the new worldview of Progress and Profit?  British author Jim Crace’s novel, Harvest, a finalist for the Man Booker Prize in 2013, provides a beautiful, dark and tragic story of the first steps of the “modernization” of a preindustrial English village.

The story focuses on a hamlet that is suddenly upended when the kindly lord of the settlement, Master Kent, discovers that his benign feudal control of a remote patch of farmland and forest has been lost to his scheming, cold-hearted cousin, Edmund Jordan.  Jordan is a proto-capitalist who has a secret plan to evict everyone and turn their fields into pastures for sheep.  He plans to become rich producing wool for the flourishing export market.  But Jordan can’t simply announce his planned dispossession of land lest it provoke resistance.  He realizes that he must act with stealth and subterfuge to take possession of the land and eradicate the community, its values and its traditions.

The story is essentially a tale of what happens when a capitalist order seeks to supplant a stable and coherent community.  But this states the narrative too crudely because the book is a gorgeously written, richly imagined account of the village, without even a hint of the ideological.  Told through the eyes of a character who came to the village twelve years earlier, the story doesn’t once mention the words “enclosure,” “capital” or “Marx.”  (Indeed, the Wall Street Journal’s reviewer praises the book for “brilliantly suggest[ing] the loamy, lyric glories of rustic English language and life.”)

Harvest depicts the sensuous experiences of a village community wresting its food from nature, but with relative peace and happiness.  "Our great task each and every year is to defend ourselves against hunger and defeat with implements and tools. The clamour deafens us. But that is how we have to live our lives," the narrator tells us.  The book also shows how easily this world is shattered by a brutal outsider who uses fear and social manipulation to rip apart a community in order to install a new regime of efficiency, progress and personal gain.

read more

A New Online Archive for Karl Polanyi’s Work

Posted on by
Reply

One of the most influential works in my thinking about the commons has been Karl Polanyi’s 1944 book The Great Transformation:  The Political and Economic Origins of Our Times. A Hungarian economic historian and anthropologist, Polanyi  argued that world history dramatically changed in the 17th and 18th centuries when “Market Society” arose to displace societies that had been based on kinship, religion and social relationships.  Where once people were embedded in communities of reciprocity and redistribution, capitalist markets gradually turned societies into the alienated collectives of rational, utility-maximizing individuals dominated by the market order. The Great Transformation is a brilliant historical account of this transition from a commons-based world to market society.

Polanyi's book had the misfortune to be published at the wrong time, 1944, just as the nations of the world were racing to embrace market economics and soar into modern times.  In the 1950s and 1960s climate of the Cold War, go-go economic growth and gee-whiz technology, few serious people wanted to hear about how “the market” should be tamed and made to serve society – Polanyi’s primary theme.  The overriding goal of that period was to grow, grow, grow, with little thought for the long-term social and ecological consequences.

As a result, The Great Transformation has been largely exiled from the canon of mainstream economic literature for the past 70 years. Hayek’s The Road to Serfdom, also published in 1944, was far more in sync with the postwar cultural wave and went on to become a foundational book for modern corporatists and conservatives.  For decades the curious reader could only find archaic-looking reprint editions of The Great Transformation until Beacon Press came out with a new edition in 2001, with a new introduction by economist Joseph Stiglitz.

All of this is by way of background to the news that Concordia College has just gone live with a massive online archive of Polanyi’s work.  Exciting news! The archive is housed at the Karl Polanyi Institute of Political Economy, which was founded in 1988 at Concordia. The archive has an estimated 110,000 documents, which range from correspondence and unpublished papers to lecture notes, articles and manuscripts in Hungarian, German and English. Here is the official announcement of the archive at the Karl Polanyi Institute of Political Economy.

read more

Derek Wall’s “The Commons in History”

Posted on by
Reply

For many people, the commons exists as some sort of Platonic ideal -- a fixed, universal archetype.  That’s silly, of course, because commons are so embedded in a given place and moment of history and culture, and therefore highly variable.  Derek Wall takes this as a point of departure in his new book, The Commons in History:  Culture, Conflict and Ecology (MIT Press).  At 136 pages of text, it is a short and highly readable book, but one that conveys much of the texture of commons and enclosures as paradigms -- and the implications for ecosystems.

Wall is an economist at Goldsmith College, University of London, so he knows a few things about the biases of conventional economics.  He is also a member of the Green party of England and Wales, and therefore knows a few things about corporate power and oppositional politics. 

As the author of a recent intellectual biography, The Sustainable Economics of Elinor Ostrom (Routledge), Wall has a subtle mastery of Ostrom’s approach to the commons, but he is not afraid to wade into the political aspects of commons.  He notes, for example, “most commons have not been found to succeed or fail on the basis of their own merits.  Instead, they have been enclosed, and access has been restricted and often turned over to purely private ownership or state control.”  He adds that “commons is a concept that is both contests and innately political in nature.  Power and access to resources remain essential areas for debate.”

It is entirely appropriate, then, that Wall goes beyond the familiar Hardin-Ostrom debate on the rationality and economic value of commons, to explore what he calls “the radical case for the commons,” as outlined by E.P. Thompson and Christopher Hill, among others.  While Marxist criticisms of the environmental effects of capitalism so often hit the mark, Wall points out that “the commons is not utopia.  A common-pool property rights do not guarantee a free and equal society.”  

That’s partly because a commons is not a unitary model, but only a template with highly variable outcomes.  People may have common rights to use “usufruct rights” on privately owned land, for example, authorizing them to gather fallen wood.  This can be considered a type of commons, albeit not one as self-sovereign and robust as those with communally owned and controlled land.  Commons may also coexist with hierarchical power relationships – a reality that also militates against a radical equality.

read more

“Stop, Thief!” – Peter Linebaugh’s New Collection of Essays

Posted on by
Reply

It is always refreshing to read Peter Linebaugh’s writings on the commons because he brings such rich historical perspectives to bear, revealing the commons as both strangely alien and utterly familiar. With the added kick that the commoning he describes actually happened, Linebaugh’s journeys into the commons leave readers outraged at enclosures of long ago and inspired to protect today's endangered commons. 

This was my response, in any case, after reading Linebaugh’s latest book, Stop, Thief!  The Commons, Enclosures and Resistance (Spectre/PM Press), which is a collection of fifteen chapters on many different aspects of the commons, mostly from history.  The book starts out on a contemporary note by introducing “some principles of the commons” followed by “a primer on the commons and commoning” and a chapter on urban commoning.  For readers new to Linebaugh, he is an historian at the University of Toledo, in Ohio, and the author of such memorable books as The Magna Carta Manifesto and The London Hanged. 

Stop, Thief! is organized around a series of thematic sections that collect previously published essays and writings by Linebaugh.  One section focuses on Karl Marx (“Charles Marks,” as he was recorded in British census records) and another on British enclosures and commoners (Luddites; William Morris; the Magna Carta; “enclosures from the bottom up”).  A third section focuses on American commons (Thomas Paine; communism and commons) before concluding with three chapters on First Nations and commons.

read more