University of Pennsylvania Press

A literary, legal, and cultural history of disability, race, and citizenship between the Revolution and the Civil WarThe history of disability rights is often told as a recent one, but it is not. In the wake of the American Revolution, many of the differences we now call disabilities could be accommodated into citizenship—and for some even exemplified its promises. By the antebellum period, however, disability was becoming a powerful, racialized tool of civic exclusion and, by the century's end, a target for eugenic elimination. In Before Disability, Sari Altschuler tells the story of how this dramatic transformation occurred. Before Disability is a literary, legal, and cultural history of the relationship between disability, race, and citizenship. It shows how disability helped to shape US citizenship and, in turn, how the formation of US citizenship shaped disability. There were two key drivers of the transformation from accommodation to exclusion and eugenics: the difficulty aligning the reality with the rhetoric of civic inclusion and the co-opting of mental and physical difference as evidence in debates about Black citizenship. The stigmatizing ways race came together with mental and physical difference to deny Americans rights were, however, not inevitable. Before citizenship was federally defined in the late 1860s, Americans were still working out what it meant. They used the narrative forms available to them—from melodrama and the gothic to the slave narrative and the criminal confession—to do this work. While possibilities narrowed by the antebellum era, Americans continued to imagine, articulate, and enact broader definitions. As we seek to imagine the relationship between disability and citizenship more equitably and expansively for ourselves, we should begin by remembering that many disabled and nondisabled Americans before us did, too.

Places Benjamin Franklin's Philadelphia in the context of a broader Atlantic intellectual world and investigates the entanglement among books, knowledge, and colonialismThe Atlantic Republic of Letters offers an alternative intellectual history of early America. Focusing on Benjamin Franklin's Philadelphia, the book frames Euro-American colonialism as an intellectual enterprise, which was established not only through military and economic means but also through books, ideas, and cultural institutions. Through research in dozens of archives and rare book libraries, Diego Pirillo brings together two interconnected histories. First, he recovers the place of British America in the cosmopolitan world of the Republic of Letters, studying the communication system that facilitated the transatlantic circulation of knowledge. Second, he shows that knowledge was weaponized in the effort to survey and control North America. While fashioning themselves as independent and cosmopolitan scholars, Franklin and his associates, including James and Martha Logan, Isaac Norris II, Pierre Eugene Du Simitiere, and Jane Colden, among others, were in fact deeply tied to political power and tailored their ideas to the needs of their patrons. They served as agents of empire and helped to devise and put into practice the colonial project. Not only were books, libraries, and cultural institutions funded by the wealth created by the slave trade and the expropriation of Indigenous land, but, as Pirillo argues, the very taxonomies and classification systems that Euro-American scholars devised directly shaped the colonial enterprise. In this respect, The Atlantic Republic of Letters illuminates the relationship among books, intellectuals, and colonial governance, and explores the ways in which knowledge circulated and shaped conquest.

Unearths a buried history of retributive violence that unfolded inside besieged SarajevoIn asymmetrical conflicts, how should we acknowledge suffering on the side of the perpetrators of violence? How can we do so without losing sight of the harm they inflicted, and without relativizing the suffering of their victims? Inner Zone introduces a new approach to telling contentious histories of war and explores the political implications of refusing to extend recognition to those who suffer on the "wrong" side of a conflict. Bosnian Serb forces held the city of Sarajevo under siege from 1992 until 1995. Inner Zone revisits this emblematic conflict from the perspective of Bosnian Serb women who remained in the city during the siege years. As Serb civilians came to be associated with the ethno-national aggressor, these women became targets of collective punishment and retribution. The war crimes committed against them have been written out of most academic and journalistic accounts of the war, and in Sarajevo, they have become a public secret. Pluralizing the monolithic story of the siege into zones of violence, Jelena Golubovic locates an inner zone of retribution within the larger outer zone of besiegement, telling a nested history that reconfigures how we think about victimhood and complicity across both sides of a conflict. As Bosnian Serb women tell their previously untold stories through ethnographic interviews, Golubovic remains attentive to the anxious sense of exclusion that haunts them in the postwar city. While their victimization is erased from the dominant narrative of the war in Sarajevo, the Bosnian Serb ethno-nationalist elite emphasize it to claim exclusive victimhood. Inner Zone takes on the challenge of disentangling lived experiences of violence from the grip of ethno-nationalist misappropriation, arguing that a sense of misrecognition and unacknowledged injury can ultimately lead victims of the inner zone of violence to adopt ethno-nationalist narratives and goals.

A provocative new account of the ideological framework undergirding early modern imperial expansion: the Doctrine of DiscoveryMaking All the World America offers a new account of the ideological framework undergirding early modern imperial expansion: the Doctrine of Discovery, which held that the first arrival of a European power among the lands and peoples of the Western Hemisphere granted the right to govern the regions that they claimed to have "discovered."While scholars have maintained that the doctrine operated through the suppression of Indigenous peoples, Timothy Bowers Vasko contends that, on the contrary, the doctrine's ideological work actually depended on the recognition of Indigenous rights and sovereignty. Between 1492 and 1690, the Spanish and English architects of the doctrine sought to justify European-Christian empire through the incorporation of Indigenous peoples into colonial frameworks as religious, political, property-owning subjects. Examining the works of Peter Martyr, Thomas More, Bartolomé de Las Casas, Richard Hakluyt, and John Locke, among others, Vasko shows how these theorists leveraged and referenced knowledge of Indigenous societies and religious traditions in the Americas as a way of legitimizing imperial claims to the Americas. The doctrine's reliance on this production of Native information enabled the emergence of a new class of Indigenous intellectuals such as Garcilaso de la Vega and Don Fernando de Alva Ixtlilxochitl, who provided essential ethnographic material and exercised considerable influence on Western thought—especially the political theory of John Locke—in surprising and overlooked ways. Providing a provocative explanation of impasses and frustrations within struggles for Indigenous rights and the critique of imperialism more broadly, Making All the World America shows how "the native" was not eliminated but rather produced by colonial power.

An exploration of the British occupation of Philadelphia that highlights the perspectives of those wearied by and withdrawn from the War for IndependenceElizabeth and Henry Drinker of Philadelphia were no friends of the American Revolution. Yet neither were they its enemies. The Drinkers were a merchant family who, being Quakers and pacifists, shunned commitments to both the Revolutionaries and the British. They strove to endure the war uninvolved and unscathed. They failed. In 1777, the war came to Philadelphia when the city was taken and occupied by the British army. Aaron Sullivan explores the British occupation of Philadelphia, chronicling the experiences of a group of people who were pursued, pressured, and at times persecuted, not because they chose the wrong side of the Revolution but because they tried not to choose a side at all. For these people, the war was neither a glorious cause to be won nor an unnatural rebellion to be suppressed, but a dangerous and costly calamity to be navigated with care. Both the Patriots and the British referred to this group as "the disaffected," perceiving correctly that their defining feature was less loyalty to than a lack of support for either side in the dispute, and denounced them as opportunistic, apathetic, or even treasonous. Sullivan shows how Revolutionary authorities embraced desperate measures in their quest to secure their own legitimacy, suppressing speech, controlling commerce, and mandating military service. In 1778, without the Patriots firing a shot, the king's army abandoned Philadelphia and the perceived threat from neutrals began to decline—as did the coercive and intolerant practices of the Revolutionary regime. By highlighting the perspectives of those wearied by and withdrawn from the conflict, The Disaffected reveals the consequences of a Revolutionary ideology that assumed the nation's people to be a united and homogenous front.

Chronicles the history of emancipation through the cradle-to-grave experiences of a remarkable generation of black northernersThe Rising Generation chronicles the long history of emancipation in the United States through the cradle-to-grave experiences of a generation of black New Yorkers. Born into precarious freedom after the American Revolution and reaching adulthood in the lead-up to the Civil War, this remarkable generation ultimately played an outsized role in political and legal conflicts over slavery's future, influencing both the nation's path to the Civil War and changes to the US Constitution. Through exhaustive research in archives across New York State, where the largest enslaved population in the North resided at the time of the American Revolution, Sarah L. H. Gronningsater begins by exploring how English colonial laws shaped late eighteenth-century gradual abolition acts that freed children born to enslaved mothers. The boys and girls affected by these laws were born into a quasi-free legal status. They were technically not enslaved but were nonetheless required to labor as servants until they reached adulthood. Parents, teachers, and mentors of these "children of gradual abolition" found multiple ways to protect and nurture the boys and girls in their midst. They supported and founded schools, formed ties with white lawyers and abolitionists, petitioned local and state officials for better laws, guarded against kidnapping and cruelty, and shaped New York's evolving identity as a free state. Black fathers used their votes during annual state elections in the early 1800s to influence legislative antislavery efforts. After many but not all black men in the state were disfranchised by a race-based property requirement in 1822, black citizens across New York organized to regain equal suffrage and to expand and protect other crucial, non-gendered features of state citizenship. Women and children were critical participants in these efforts. Gronningsater shows how, as the children of gradual abolition reached adulthood, they took the lessons of their youth into midcentury campaigns for legal equality, political inclusion, equitable common school education, and the expansion of freedom across the nation.

Today, the word "neoliberal" is used to describe an epochal shift toward market-oriented governance begun in the 1970s. Yet the roots of many of neoliberalism's policy tools can be traced to the ideas and practices of mid-twentieth-century liberalism. In Illusions of Progress, Brent Cebul chronicles the rise of what he terms "supply-side liberalism," a powerful and enduring orientation toward politics and the economy, race and poverty, that united local chambers of commerce, liberal policymakers and economists, and urban and rural economic planners. Beginning in the late 1930s, New Dealers tied expansive aspirations for social and, later, racial progress to a variety of economic development initiatives. In communities across the country, otherwise conservative business elites administered liberal public works, urban redevelopment, and housing programs. But by binding national visions of progress to the local interests of capital, liberals often entrenched the very inequalities of power and opportunity they imagined their programs solving. When President Lyndon Johnson launched the War on Poverty—which prioritized direct partnerships with poor and racially marginalized citizens—businesspeople, Republicans, and soon, a rising generation of New Democrats sought to rein in its seeming excesses by reinventing and redeploying many of the policy tools and commitments pioneered on liberalism's supply side: public-private partnerships, market-oriented solutions, fiscal "realism," and, above all, subsidies for business-led growth now promised to blunt, and perhaps ultimately replace, programs for poor and marginalized Americans. In this wide-ranging book, Brent Cebul illuminates the often-overlooked structures of governance, markets, and public debt through which America's warring political ideologies have been expressed and transformed. From Washington, D.C. to the declining Rustbelt and emerging Sunbelt and back again, Illusions of Progress reveals the centrality of public and private forms of profit that have defined the enduring boundaries of American politics, opportunity, and inequality— in an era of liberal ascendance and an age of neoliberal retrenchment.

Undoing Slavery excavates cultural, political, medical, and legal history to understand the abolitionist focus on the body on its own terms. Motivated by their conviction that the physical form of the human body was universal and faced with the growing racism of eighteenth- and nineteenth-century science, abolitionists in North America and Britain focused on undoing slavery's harm to the bodies of the enslaved. Their pragmatic focus on restoring the bodily integrity and wellbeing of enslaved people threw up many unexpected challenges. This book explores those challenges. Slavery exploited the bodies of men and women differently: enslaved women needed to be acknowledged as mothers rather than as reproducers of slave property, and enslaved men needed to claim full adult personhood without triggering white fears about their access to male privilege. Slavery's undoing became more fraught by the 1850s, moreover, as federal Fugitive Slave Law and racist medicine converged. The reach of the federal government across the borders of free states and theories about innate racial difference collapsed the distinctions between enslaved and emancipated people of African descent, making militant action necessary. Escaping to so-called "free" jurisdictions, refugees from slavery demonstrated that a person could leave the life of slavery behind. But leaving behind the enslaved body, the fleshy archive of trauma and injury, proved impossible. Bodies damaged by slavery needed urgent physical care as well as access to medical knowledge untainted by racist science. As the campaign to end slavery revealed, legal rights alone, while necessary, were not sufficient either to protect or heal the bodies of African-descended people from the consequences of slavery and racism.

A collective study of the James siblings—Alice, William, and Henry—that shows how minds meet in a world teeming with possibilities and risksAlice James: an exemplary nineteenth-century neurasthenic and diarist. William James: a foundational figure for American psychology and philosophy. Henry James: a preeminent author and literary critic. These three iconic figures of nineteenth-century American culture and letters were also siblings, children of the storied James family, yet the diarist, the psychologist, and the novelist have seemed to occupy distinct realms of cultural authority and to speak to different audiences (or, in the case of Alice, to no audience at all). Their writings have rarely been considered together. In Philosophical Siblings Jane F. Thrailkill asks what new story is illuminated when we study their writings collectively. By approaching the Jameses as intimate thinkers operating on a common field of play, Thrailkill reveals the siblings' shared project—part psychological, part philosophical—of showing how minds meet in a world teeming with possibilities and risks. Scientists in nineteenth-century psychology labs were studying isolated individuals, tracking eye movements, and timing reactions to better understand the human machine. In contrast, the Jameses' models for discovery were philosophical toys: ludic devices that light up quirks of perception and are devilishly fun as well. With childlike humor, the siblings' intellectual playfulness is both message and medium, manifested in an expressive style that exploits incongruity, delights in absurdities, and sometimes, teasingly, inflicts the sting of critique. Most important, the Jameses' writings model how human beings accomplish high-wire acts of perception and creation. Alice, William, and Henry James did not merely present a new, interactive theory of mind; they dramatized it in their writings as a curiosity-based practice. Philosophical Siblings accepts their invitation to mindful play and offers a fresh way of thinking about literary encounters more generally, one that approaches even the weightiest texts with serious lightness.

An examination of the efforts by Black public-sector workers and their unions to fight for racial and economic justice in BaltimoreFor decades, civil rights activists fought against employment discrimination and for a greater role for African Americans in municipal decision-making. As their influence in city halls across the country increased, activists took advantage of the Great Society—and the government jobs it created on the local level—to advance their goals. A New Working Class traces efforts by Black public-sector workers and their unions to fight for racial and economic justice in Baltimore. The public sector became a critical job niche for Black workers, especially women, a largely unheralded achievement of the civil rights movement. A vocal contingent of Black public-sector workers pursued the activists' goals from their government posts and sought to increase and improve public services. They also fought for their rights as workers and won union representation. During an era often associated with deindustrialization and union decline, Black government workers and their unions were just getting started. During the 1970s and 1980s, presidents from both political parties pursued policies that imperiled these gains. Fighting funding reductions, public-sector workers and their unions defended the principle that the government has a responsibility to provide for the well-being of its residents. Federal officials justified their austerity policies, the weakening of the welfare state and strengthening of the carceral state, by criminalizing Black urban residents—including government workers and their unions. Meanwhile, workers and their unions also faced off against predominately white local officials, who responded to austerity pressures by cutting government jobs and services while simultaneously offering tax incentives to businesses and investing in low-wage, service-sector jobs. The combination of federal and local policies increased insecurity in hyper-segregated and increasingly over-policed low-income Black neighborhoods, leaving residents, particularly women, to provide themselves or do without services that public-sector workers had fought to provide.

Argues that letter writing enabled a disparate and politically marginal assortment of abolitionists to take shape as a mass movementAbolitionists and the Politics of Correspondence examines how opponents of slavery harnessed the power of letter writing to further their political aims, arguing that this practice enabled a disparate and politically marginal assortment of people to take shape as a coherent and powerful movement. Mary T. Freeman fuses a political and social study of abolitionists with a focus on letter writing and epistolary culture. Through the analysis of correspondence, Freeman portrays abolitionism as a mass movement, made up of participants from a wide range of backgrounds, and she emphasizes the diversity of the movement's geography, membership, and political activities. The book highlights everyday Americans' involvement in abolition, shifting focus away from the affluent and publicly prominent white leadership. It pays particular attention to those who used letters to intervene in politics when other avenues were closed to them, especially women and Black Americans. Freeman expands scholarly understandings of abolitionism by showing how letters enabled activists to transmit information and ideas across long distances in a relatively secure format and how they connected people who otherwise would remain strangers. Correspondence also provided a means of political expression to people on the political fringes and disfranchised persons. Even antislavery leaders and those whose social positions were seemingly secure often used the semi-private medium of correspondence strategically. Letter writers could hone their ideas beyond the purview of public audiences, or, when private letters became public, cultural norms granted their contents a stamp of authenticity and directness. Abolitionists and the Politics of Correspondence concerns not just what people wrote about but also how they wrote about it: how they manipulated, exploited, and subverted cultural conventions to make political statements and claims.

A nuanced portrait of the blue-collar, white supporters of Philadelphia's police-commissioner-turned-mayor Frank Rizzo and the populist politics that emerged, reissued with a new preface that explores how the era connects to the rise of Donald TrumpThe postwar United States has experienced many forms of populist politics, none more consequential than that of the blue-collar white ethnics who brought figures like Ronald Reagan to the White House. Blue-Collar Conservatism traces the rise of this little-understood, easily caricatured variant of populism by presenting a nuanced portrait of the supporters of Philadelphia Mayor Frank Rizzo. In 1971, Frank Rizzo became the first former police commissioner elected mayor of a major American city. Despite serving as a Democrat, Rizzo cultivated his base of support by calling for "law and order" and opposing programs like public housing, school busing, affirmative action, and other policies his supporters deemed unearned advantages for nonwhites. Out of this engagement with the interwoven politics of law enforcement, school desegregation, equal employment, and urban housing, Timothy J. Lombardo argues, blue-collar populism arose. Based on extensive archival research, and with an emphasis on interrelated changes to urban space and blue-collar culture, Blue-Collar Conservatism challenges the familiar backlash narrative, instead contextualizing blue-collar politics within postwar urban and economic crises. Historian and Philadelphia-native Lombardo demonstrates how blue-collar whites did not immediately abandon welfare liberalism but instead selectively rejected liberal policies based on culturally defined ideas of privilege, disadvantage, identity, and entitlement. While grounding his analysis in the postwar era's familiar racial fissures, Lombardo also emphasizes class identity as an indispensable driver of blue-collar political engagement. Blue-Collar Conservatism ultimately shows how this combination of factors created one of the least understood but most significant political developments in recent American history. This timely reissue features a new preface that brings the story up to the rise of Trump and discusses how the demographics and politics of Philadelphia have changed since the Rizzo era.

Circumventing the Law probes the rabbinic logic behind the use of loopholes, the legal phenomenon of finding and using gaps within law to achieve otherwise illegal outcomes. The logic of ha'aramah, a subset of rabbinic legal circumventions mostly defined as a tool for private life, underpins both well-known circumventions, such as selling leaven before Passover, and lesser-known mechanisms, such as designating an animal intended for sacrifice "blemished" before birth to allow it to be slaughtered for food instead. Elana Stein Hain traces the development of these loopholes over time, revealing that rabbinic literature does not consistently accept or reject loopholes. Instead, rabbinic Judaism applies categories of evasion (prohibited), avoidance (permitted), and avoision (contested) to loopholes on a case-by-case basis. The intended outcome of a given loophole determines its classification, as does the legal integrity of the circumventive process in question. Yet these understandings of loopholes are not static—instead, rabbinic attitudes toward loopholing change over time. Early works display an objective, performative understanding of the self and of intention, but evolve over time to reflect more subjective and intimate understanding of the self and intention. This evolution redefines what legal integrity means in Jewish legal philosophy. Circumventing the Law brings readers through the Second Temple period to the modern era to see how loopholing has evolved over millennia. With a focus on late antiquity, Stein Hain explores tannaitic literature, the Palestinian Talmud, and contemporaneous Greco-Roman and Persian thought to show that when warranted, Jewish rhetoric and philosophy around understandings of loopholes was a unique phenomenon that relied on changes in understanding the definition of integrity itself, a key finding for scholars of Jewish Studies and of religious and of secular law writ large.

A demonstration of how differing regional ideals of family have shaped party policy and ideological positions throughout the twentieth centuryStruggles to define the soul of America roil the nation's politics. Debates over the roles of gays, lesbians, women, immigrants, racial and religious minorities, and disputes over reproductive and abortion rights serve as rallying points for significant electoral groups and their representatives in government. Although the American family lies at the core of these fierce battles, the alignment of family with social or cultural issues is only a partial picture—a manifestation of the new right's late twentieth-century success in elevating "family values" over family economics. Gwendoline Alphonso makes a significant contribution to the prevailing understanding of party evolution, contemporary political polarization, and the role of the family in American political development by placing family at the center of political and cultural clashes. She demonstrates how regional ideas about family in the twentieth century have continually shaped not only Republican and Democratic policy and ideological positions concerning race and gender but also their ideals concerning the economy and the state. Drawing on extensive data from congressional committee hearings, political party platforms, legislation sponsorship, and demographic data from the Progressive, post-World War II, and late twentieth-century periods in the United States, Polarized Families, Polarized Parties offers an intricate and sophisticated analysis of how deliberations around the ideal family became critical to characterizations of party politics. By revealing the deep historical interconnections between family and the two parties' ideologies and policy preferences, Alphonso reveals that American party development is more than a story of the state and its role in the economy but also, at its core, a debate over the political values of family and the social fabric it embodies.

A multisensory approach to the study of Sh? Iran that examines how devotional Moharram performances changed over time The mourning traditions of Moharram comprise a body of Sh? Muslim devotional performances commemorating the martyrdom of Hosayn ibn ?Ali, the grandson of the Prophet Muhammad and the Third Imam of the Sh? , in 680 CE. These traditional rites are performed during a period of communal mourning when Sh? s remember Hosayn's sacrifice and affirm their allegiance to him and to the Prophet's family. Through remembering the martyrs of Karbala, Sh? Muslims reflect on their own afflictions and aspirations, and how these bear consequences for everyday ethical and devotional conduct. Babak Rahimi analyzes Moharram in Iran through the five senses—sight, sound, touch, smell, and taste—with an emphasis on the relationship between religious practices as embodied experiences and how these performances—and practitioners' experiences of them—have changed over time. Rahimi begins his investigation in the nineteenth-century Qajar period, when Moharram became a pervasive urban communal practice across most of Iran. He covers the Qajar-era dramatic performances of t? iyeh, their transformation into cultural spectacles during the Pahlavi era, the public processions in the form of urban street protests in 1978, the tent-burning rituals in the southern city of Bushehr in 2006, and, lastly, the votive performances during Moharram in the digital sphere during the pandemic in 2020. Through the study of mourning in terms of the senses in a specific historical and social context, Senses of Mourning not only shows the changing embodied dimensions of religious practices that have played an integral role in the complex lifeworld of Sh? Iranians but also details the transformation of Moharram within the broader history of Sh? Iran in an increasingly interconnected global era. The book's multisensory approach sheds new light on the performativity of embodied practices, in which spiritualities, materialities, and the politics of the sacred are articulated through lived performances over time.

William E. Scheuerman's book explores when, if ever, politically motivated property harms are justifiable In 2020, Black Lives Matter activists toppled Confederate monuments and occasionally vandalized police vehicles and stations. Climate activists have damaged natural gas pipelines and famous artworks. In Hong Kong, pro-democracy students targeted businesses sympathetic to the mainland government. On January 6, 2021, far-right groups at the US Capitol mistreated public and private property as part of their efforts to disrupt finalizing election results. Property damage constitutes an increasingly commonplace feature of global political protest. How then to interpret and evaluate its proliferation? The media regularly describes such acts as "violent," as do most scholars. However, William E. Scheuerman's book pushes back against conflating politically motivated violations of property rights with violence. Political violence has no place in democratic politics. Yet indiscriminately grouping property damage together with acts destructive of and harmful to persons is conceptually confusing and politically misleading. After all, Americans celebrate the Boston Tea Party. So why do most of us now categorically condemn many seemingly parallel act? cheuerman tackles challenging and politically timely questions. When, if ever, are politically motivated property harms justifiable? What standards should we expect of those pursuing them to meet, under democratic conditions? How are those standards undermined by the rise of authoritarian populism around the world? Focusing on identifiably nonviolent varieties of what Scheuerman calls property disobedience, his book explores a variety of real-life examples, both past and present, to understand how and why such acts may be politically justifiable—or should instead be viewed as beyond the pale.