University of Oklahoma Press

In December of 1971 the Black Panther Party expanded to Australia. This might seem an odd place for a quintessentially African American political force, but as Jacynda Ammons reveals in this expansive work, Aboriginal Australians had long looked to the example of African Americans in their fight against white supremacy. Against a background of Australia's history of colonization and racialization, We Are Black, Too traces Aboriginal Australians' adoption of strains of Black activism from Marcus Garvey through the Civil Rights Movement and ultimately the Black Panther Party. In 1971 an International Section of the Black Panther Party was established in Algeria, but as Ammons shows, it was not until the demise of this section and a "split" within the party in the United States that a chapter of the Black Panther Party was formed in Australia. Tapping archival research from the United States and Australia, and in light of the emphasis on international activism by Huey P. Newton and the Oakland Panthers, We Are Black, Too explores the links between the American and Australian chapters of the BPP. As it brings to light these unexpected connections, the book adds to our understanding of both the Black Panther movement and Aboriginal activism in Australia. And as it expands the larger analysis of “transnational blackness” and the global Black Diaspora, it offers powerful insights, and holds valuable lessons, for the activism and internationalism of African Americans today in movements of global solidarity to end systemic racism.

Following Zebulon Pike’s expeditions in the early nineteenth century, U.S. expansionists focused their gaze on the Southwest. Explorers, traders, settlers, boundary adjudicators, railway surveyors, and the U.S. Army crossed into and through New Mexico, transforming it into a battleground for competing influences determined to control the region. Previous histories have treated the Santa Fe trade, the American occupation under Colonel Stephen W. Kearny, the antebellum Indian Wars, debates over slavery, the Pacific Railway, and the Confederate invasion during the Civil War as separate events in New Mexico. In Coast-to-Coast Empire, William S. Kiser demonstrates instead that these developments were interconnected parts of a process by which the United States effected the political, economic, and ideological transformation of the region. New Mexico was an early proving ground for Manifest Destiny, the belief that U.S. possession of the entire North American continent was inevitable. Kiser shows that the federal government’s military commitment to the territory stemmed from its importance to U.S. expansion. Americans wanted California, but in order to retain possession of it and realize its full economic and geopolitical potential, they needed New Mexico as a connecting thoroughfare in their nation-building project. The use of armed force to realize this claim fundamentally altered New Mexico and the Southwest. Soldiers marched into the territory at the onset of the Mexican-American War and occupied it continuously through the 1890s, leaving an indelible imprint on the region’s social, cultural, political, judicial, and economic systems. By focusing on the activities of a standing army in a civilian setting, Kiser reshapes the history of the Southwest, underlining the role of the military not just in obtaining territory but in retaining it.

In 1950, France experienced two parallel but different outcomes in its Indochina war. While the conflict in the north ended with a disastrous defeat for the French at Dien Bien Phu, in southern Vietnam, or Cochinchina, France emerged victorious in a series of violent but now largely forgotten actions. In the Year of the Tiger tells the story of this critical southern campaign, revealing in dramatic detail how the French war for Cochinchina set the stage for the American war in Vietnam. In northern Vietnam, the French troops had focused on destroying Viet Minh main force units. A dearth of resources in the south dictated a different strategy. William M. Waddell III describes how, by avoiding costly attempts to defeat the Viet Minh in the traditional military sense, the southern French command was able to secure key economic and political strongholds. Consulting both French and Vietnamese sources, Waddell examines the principal commanders on both sides, their competing strategies, and the hard-fought military campaign that they waged for control of the south. The author’s deft analysis suggests that counter to widely accepted views, the Viet Minh were not invincible, and the outcome of the conflict in Indochina was not inevitable. A challenge to historical orthodoxy, In the Year of the Tiger presents a more balanced interpretation of the French war for Indochina. At the same time, the book alters and expands our understanding of the precedents and the dynamics of America’s Vietnam War.

A controversial character largely known (as depicted in the movie Glory) as a Union colonel who led Black soldiers in the Civil War, James Montgomery (1814–71) waged a far more personal and radical war against slavery than popular history suggests. It is the true story of this militant abolitionist that Todd Mildfelt and David D. Schafer tell in Abolitionist of the Most Dangerous Kind, summoning a life fiercely lived in struggle against the expansion of slavery into the West and during the Civil War. This book follows a harrowing path through the turbulent world of the 1850s and 1860s as Montgomery, with the fervor of an Old Testament prophet, inflicts destructive retribution on Southern slaveholders wherever he finds them, crossing paths with notable abolitionists John Brown and Harriet Tubman along the way. During the tumultuous years of “Bleeding Kansas,” he became a guerilla chieftain of the antislavery vigilantes known as Jayhawkers. When the war broke out in 1861, Montgomery led a regiment of white troops who helped hundreds of enslaved people in Missouri reach freedom in Kansas. Drawing on regimental records in the National Archives, the authors provide new insights into the experiences of African American men who served in Montgomery’s next regiment, the Thirty-Fourth United States Colored Troops (formerly Second South Carolina Infantry). Montgomery helped enslaved men and women escape via one of the least-explored underground railways in the nation, from Arkansas and Missouri through Kansas and Nebraska. With support of abolitionists in Massachusetts, he spearheaded resistance to the Fugitive Slave Act in Kansas. And, when war came, he led Black soldiers in striking at the very heart of the Confederacy. His full story thus illuminates the actions of both militant abolitionists and the enslaved people fighting to destroy the peculiar institution.

Mollie Brumley, a thirteen-year-old orphan, was living on a farm in the mountainous Ozarks of northwest Arkansas when the Civil War broke out. In a borderland region on the northern periphery of slavery and the western edge of white settlement, her corner of Arkansas saw terrible destruction—but not primarily from fighting between opposing armies. Mollie Brumley's Civil War was one of guerilla warfare and outlawry, shifting loyalties, betrayals real and imagined, and, for some, death by starvation. In telling Mollie's story, drawing largely upon her 1901 autobiography, Theodore Catton offers a rare intimate look at the heroism and desperation of war conducted on the home front—all amidst the anything-but-ordinary romantic adventures of an adolescent who lived during an extraordinary time. In the course of this riveting narrative, Mollie—while still in her teens—falls in love with one Confederate soldier who is lost in battle, marries another who joins the Rebel guerrillas, and leaves the farm to become an army laundress during escalating guerrilla depredations against her home and family. Intertwined with Mollie's tale is that of Parthenia Hensley, an enslaved young woman living in the same rural community. The story of Parthenia and her white family of enslavers broadens Catton's portrait of a war-torn community of farmers on the edge of the Slave South. An unprecedented picture of the Civil War in the Trans-Mississippi West, Mollie Brumley's Civil War is also a remarkable coming-of-age story shaped by the fight against slavery—a fight that Mollie didn't choose but that finally influenced the person she became and the outcome of her life.

Written shortly before her death in 1938, Rachel Caroline Eaton's A History of the Cherokee Nation is the celebrated Cherokee historian's magnum opus - and a work whose grounding in Cherokee tradition and perspective makes it unique in the annals of American history. The book spans the years from pre-contact to what Eaton feared would be the Cherokee Nation's demise after allotment and Oklahoma statehood in 1907. Its later chapters chronicle post-Civil War events that Eaton herself witnessed, from the repeated incursions into Cherokee sovereignty by railroad and timber barons, white interlopers, land speculators, and federal policy makers to the attempted dissolution of Cherokee nationhood and self-governance. Published here for the first time, A History of the Cherokee Nation is at once rigorously researched and documented and deeply indebted to Cherokee methods of storytelling and transmitting knowledge. Eaton's incorporation of local histories, oral accounts, family archives, and the contributions of non-academic storytellers and knowledge keepers gives this work a sense of intimacy and immediacy rare among conventional histories of the time. Her History is also attentive to the importance of Cherokee family and kinship, a cultural tradition carried forward by editors Martha Berry and Patricia Dawson, both Eaton family descendants, and Dave Berry. Eaton's history of her people is accompanied by a foreword, introduction, and copious notes by the editors to provide guidance and context for today's readers. Once deemed 'too pro-Cherokee' for publication, the book now stands as a powerful testament to the tenacity of the Cherokee spirit, the endurance of the Cherokee Nation's history, culture, and tradition, and the significance of the Native voice in the American story.

Best known for his role in the arrest and killing of Crazy Horse and for the book he wrote, The Indian Sign Language, Captain William Philo Clark (1845-1884) was one of the Old Army's renaissance men, by turns administrator, fighter, diplomat, explorer, and ethnologist. As such, Clark found himself at center stage during some of the most momentous events of the post-Civil War West: from Brigadier General George Crook's infamous 'Starvation March' to the Battle of Slim Buttes and the Dull Knife Fight, then to the attack against the Bannocks at Index Peak and Sitting Bull's final fight against the U.S. Army. Captain Clark's life story, here chronicled in full for the first time, is at once an introduction to a remarkable figure in the annals of nineteenth-century U.S. history, and a window on the exploits of the U.S. Army on the contested western frontier. White Hat follows Clark from his upbringing in New York State to his life as a West Point cadet, through his varied army posts on the northern plains, and finally to his stint in Lieutenant General Philip Sheridan's headquarters first in Chicago and later in Washington, D.C. Along the way, Mark J. Nelson sets the record straight on Clark's controversial relationship with Crazy Horse during the Lakota leader's time at Camp Robinson, Nebraska. His book also draws a detailed picture of Clark's service at Fort Keogh, Montana Territory, including what is arguably his greatest success - the securing of Northern Cheyenne leader Little Wolf's peaceful surrender. In telling Clark's story, White Hat illuminates the history of the nineteenth-century American military and the Great Plains, including the Grand Duke Alexis's buffalo hunt, the Great Sioux War, and the careers of Crook and Sheridan. Nelson's examination of Clark's early years in the army offers a rare look at the experiences of a staff officer stationed on the frontier and expands our view of the army, as well as the United States' westward march.

In the mid- 1920s, the heyday of silent film, the epic Western swept Hollywood and the nation. Movie moguls sought to add gravitas to their output with the productions - films they argued offered American audiences authentic history and lessons in citizenship at a time when Hollywood faced criticism for its movies' morals and star scandals. Initially extremely popular, these now nearly forgotten Westerns were hailed by the movie industry's proponents and critics alike for their 'authentic' reconstruction of America's nineteenth-century frontier period and the social benefits in portraying historical episodes foundational to American identity to the melting pot of moviegoers. In Projecting America, the first-ever book on these silent epic Westerns, Patrick Adamson demonstrates how these films indelibly impacted the genre, historical filmmaking, and Hollywood, inviting audiences to accept uncritical visions of Manifest Destiny as accurate history. Drawing on a wealth of primary sources and punctuating his argument with film stills and intertitles, Adamson introduces readers to a variety of epic Westerns, with a particular emphasis on The Covered Wagon (1923), The Iron Horse (1924), and The Vanishing American (1925). These productions depict such key moments as pioneers on the Oregon Trail, the construction of the transcontinental railroad, and challenges faced by Indigenous peoples. Combining close analysis of these films' historiography with exploration of their production and reception, Adamson investigates how the epic Westerns' emergence responded to and informed discourses far beyond those traditionally associated with the Western genre. He demonstrates that these movies not only represent an important chapter in film history but also collectively illustrate how American identity was formed and the motion picture medium was used as a vehicle for mass historical and cultural education. In Projecting America, Adamson deftly shows how epic Westerns, at the heart of the 1920s' pressing debates about cinema's social influence, are integral to a broader understanding of the history of Western films and American identity.

Though ethanol, a liquid fuel made from agricultural byproducts, has generated controversy in recent years - good or bad for the environment? a big-ag boon or boondoggle? - its use goes back more than a century. Tracing the little-known history of this promising and contentious fuel, Ethanol: A Hemispheric History for the Future of Biofuels reveals the transnational nature of ethanol's development by its two biggest producers, the U.S. and Brazil. By drawing the connections between the shifting fortunes of ethanol in these two countries, the book presents the first full picture of the long history of this renewable fuel that from the beginning offered an imperfect alternative to oil. Though generally presented as parallel stories, the histories of ethanol in the U.S. and Brazil are inextricably linked. Authors Jeffrey T. Manuel and Thomas D. Rogers show how policies in one country shaped those in the other. Brazil patterned its mid-century development on the U.S. model, adopting an automobile- and highway-focused transportation system and a fossil fuel-intensive agricultural sector. U.S. policymakers in turn took note when Brazil responded to the 1970s oil shocks by distributing ethanol nationwide, replacing half of its gasoline consumption. In the 2000s, the nations' leaders worked together to dramatically expand ethanol production. Today, as a new generation of biofuels meant to power aviation and fight climate change again connects Brazilian and U.S. ethanol, Manuel and Rogers explain how the fuel's future, like its history, is complicated by technical, scientific, economic, and social questions - about how to calculate carbon emissions, agricultural land use, national security and sovereignty, and the balance between government regulation and market forces. Understanding the future of biofuels demands a reckoning with this extensive, shared history - a reckoning that Manuel and Rogers's far-reaching, deeply researched book brings into view.

The damming of Hetch Hetchy Valley in Yosemite National Park is widely seen as a watershed event in American environmental history. Passionately opposed by naturalist John Muir and his ardent supporters, the massive undertaking succeeded largely through the efforts of John R. Freeman, one of the most important, influential, and politically adroit engineers of the Progressive Era. In The Man Who Dammed Hetch Hetchy, Donald C. Jackson focuses on Freeman to offer a nuanced account of how the City of San Francisco won the right to transform the bucolic valley into a municipal water supply reservoir that, a century later, continues to serve millions of Bay Area residents. Central to Freeman's work for San Francisco from 1910 to 1913 was his design of a high-pressure aqueduct projected to deliver 400 million gallons of water per day to the Bay Area and generate more than 150,000 horsepower of electricity. Beyond crafting an extensively illustrated 42 -page report detailing his design, he also worked - and succeeded - as a political advocate lobbying for Congressional approval of the project. Jackson draws on a wealth of correspondence, reports, and other documents, including Congressional records, to highlight Freeman's contention that the Hetch Hetchy project would not just provide copious quantities of water and power, but would also enhance the Sierra Nevada environment and increase tourist access to the northern reaches of the national park. His self-avowed goal was not to tear down or destroy Hetch Hetchy but to utilize the valley for the greater public good and to create a system that would serve the city for decades if not centuries to come. Portraying Freeman for the first time in all his provocative complexity, The Man Who Dammed Hetch Hetchy is at once a deeply researched, richly detailed biography and social history and a compelling reinterpretation of a pivotal moment in US environmental culture.