Journal articles on the topic '1821-1867 Political and social views'

To assess competing theories of democratization, we analyze British sovereign bond market responses to the 1832, 1867, and 1884 Reform Acts, and to two failed Chartist agitations for reform. Analyses of high-frequency 3 percent consol yield data and historical financial press suggest three conclusions. First, democratic reform episodes were preceded by increases in perceived political risk, comparable to democratizing episodes in other countries. Second, both democratic reform and repression were followed by yield declines. Third, the source of political risk in Britain was both social unrest and political deadlock. Together, the findings challenge the “Whig” characterization of British democratization as exceptionally risk-free.

Turgenev's novel “Smoke” is written in the genre of satire. It presents a caricature of russian revolutionaries and reactionaries of the 1860s. For a long time, literary critics have been arguing which of them Turgenev ridicules more. In this article we will change the angle of view. We will try to reconstruct the system of social views of 1865—1867 years in Russia, outlined in the novel. The main hypothesis of this article is that Turgenev during this period had seen the danger of merging slavophiles and socialists into a single coalition of «samobytniki». This coalition opposed the liberals. It defended the backward rural community, rejected the achievements of western civilization and hindered liberal reforms in Russia. In the novel «Smoke» Turgenev contrasted the program of «samobytniki» with the program of russian westernism.

Summary Towards the end of his career, August Schleicher (1821–1868), the great consolidator of Indo-European historical-comparative linguistics in the mid-19th century, famously drew explicit parallels between linguistics and the new evolutionary theory of Darwinism. Based on this, it has become customary in linguistic historiography to refer to Schleicher’s ‘Darwinian’ theory of language, even though it has long been established that Schleicher’s views have other origins that pre-date his contact with Darwinism. For his contemporary critics in Germany, however, Schleicher’s thinking was an example not of Darwinism but of ‘materialism’. This article examines what ‘materialism’ meant in 19th-century Germany – its philosophical as well as its political dimensions – and looks at why Schleicher’s critics applied this label to him. It analyses the relevant aspects of Schleicher’s linguistics and philosophy of science and the criticisms directed against them by H. Steinthal (1823–1899). It then discusses the contemporary movement of scientific materialism and shows how Schleicher’s political views, social background and personal experiences bound him to this movement.

In 1821 Central Americans who had united to throw off the control of Spain, found themselves hopelessly divided on issues concerning the nature of the political and social institutions of the nation they had created. Confidently the Liberals challenged authority and tradition, condemned the past and its institutions and strove to construct a new world of freedom, equality, democracy and progress. Conservatives feared the rashness and the uncertainty of that new world. They thought it both foolish and unnecessary to destroy the old in order to build the new. The confrontation between Liberals and Conservatives was to be lengthy and violent. Both groups aspired to political control and, lacking practical experience in government or statesmanship, each sought political power as a vehicle for ensuring its own ascendancy and imposing its views upon the nation. One of the most troublesome issues on which they clashed was the form of government. And one of the most central figures in that conflict was Father Juan José de Aycinena.

Prvá etapa verejného pôsobenia Bélu Grünwalda, obdobie pôsobenia vo funk- cii hlavného notára (1867–1871) a prvé podžupanské obdobie (1871–1874), je za- streté rovnako ako jeho mladosť. Ak však chceme pochopiť slovensko-maďarské národné konflikty po roku 1874, ktorých hlavnou postavou sa stal, musíme odkryť aj túto etapu jeho života, keďže jeho stanoviská k národnostným otázkam sa kryš- talizovali práve v týchto rokoch.The first era of Béla Grünwald’s (Szentantal, Hungary, 1839 – Courbevoie, France, 1891) public career, his life stage as notary (1867–1871) and as subcounty governor (1871–1874) in Zvolen County are almost unknown. However, if we want to understand the Slovak– Hungarian national conflicts after 1874, of which he became the main character, we must also reveal this stage of his life, as his views on national struggle crystallized in those years. Based on a note from Zvolen County dated 4 July 1867, the Minister of Culture József Eötvös removed the “Pan-Slavic” teachers from the grammar schools in Banská Bystrica. Grünwald’s biography highlights the central role of the new notary in this matter. Never- theless, this conflict did not provoke Grünwald’s struggle with the “Pan-Slavs” but was part of the power conflicts between the “Hungarian” and “Slovakian”, Catholic and Lutheran elites of Zvolen County. At the end of 1865, it was even one of the most important “battle- fields” where the local Hungarian and Slovak networks represented by Antal Radvánszkyand Štefan Moyses met.In April 1873, the first issue of the periodical Svornosť, Grünwald’s personal project, was published in Banská Bystrica. Grünwald’s primary goal was to push Slovak enthusiast periodicals from the Slovak public sphere. Therefore, after 1873, Grünwald became the number one enemy of the Slovak national movement and at the same time its target.At the end of 1873, the leader of the Slovak national movement Viliam Pauliny-Tóth published a text mocking Grünwald in the political newspaper of the Slovak national move- ment Národné noviny. Though Grünwald was represented by a pseudonym, it was easily recognizable to anyone. The attack and scandal had very serious effects not only on Grün- wald’s dislike of the Slovaks but also of his entire life. Pauliny-Tóth exposed Grünwald’s private life and love affairs to the public, destroying Grünwald’s social prestige down to the ground. Grünwald gave a political response to the attack: not long after, he managed to get the Hungarian government to close the three Slovak grammar schools and the Matica slovenská.

The 19th Century in North America was a time of many social and scientific changes that impacted the field of medicine. A result of one such change was the medicalization of childbirth, as the primary care of women during labour shifted from midwives to physicians. While there is ample discourse on the many factors that contributed to this shift, there is very little discussion on the role played by abortion. Studying abortion in the 19th Century is often limited by a paucity of primary sources from the physicians who performed abortions and women who obtained them. Although most authors who discuss the midwifery shift do not make any mention of a role played by the issue of abortion, it has been addressed and supported by primary sources. This raises the question, why is abortion not discussed in histories on the medicalization of childbirth by other authors? The objectives of this paper are historical and histographic. First, it will present the evidence on the use of abortion as a political tool employed by some policy makers, physicians and the media to discourage women from choosing midwives for their childbirth care. Second, it will analyze possible reasons why this topic is not addressed by the majority of historians of childbirth in 19th Century North America. Are the authors concerned about the varying social views of abortion, the associated politics, the lack of primary sources, or are they personally uncomfortable with the subject? Only the authors themselves can truly know their reasons for neglecting the subject of abortion in their work, but this analysis will show how issues that influence historians determine the version of the past that is produced and propagated into the present and the future. Borst CG. Catching Babies: the Professionalization of Childbirth, 1870-1920. Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1995. Bourgeault B, Davis-Floyd R, eds. Reconceiving Midwifery. Montreal & Kingston: McGill-Queen’s University Press, 2004. Dodd DE, Gorham D, eds. Caring and Curing: Historical Perspectives on Women and Healing in Canada. Ottawa: University of Ottawa Press, 1994. Wertz DC, Wertz RW. Lying In; a History of Childbirth in America (expanded edition published 1989 by Richard W. Wertz and Dorothy C. Wertz) New York: Free Press; London: Macmillan, 1977. Reagan LJ. Linking midwives and abortion in the Progressive Era. Bulletin of the History of Medicine 1995; 69(4):569-98. Reagan LJ. When Abortion Was a Crime, Women, Medicine, and Law in the United States, 1867-1973. London: University of California Press, 1997.

Alois Rašín (1867-1923) was a Czech and Czechoslovak politician, economist, one of the founders of Czechoslovakia and its first finance minister. Alois Rašín is also the author of the first Czechoslovak law and the creator of the national currency, i.e. the Czechoslovak koruna. Rašín was a representative of conservative liberalism. The paper presents a review of Alois Rašín's concepts, views as the Minister of Finance of Czechoslovakia. Particular attention was paid to his efforts to regulate the currency and monetary system of Czechoslovakia, and to fight galloping inflation (hyperinflation). Rašín supported the free competition, believed in an entrepreneurial society, and believed that the state should strive to maintain a balanced budget.

This article explores the conversion of Muslims to Orthodox Christianity during the Greek War of Independence (1821–1832) and the first post-independence years as a case study which shows that religious boundaries in the Balkans do not seem to have been as insurmountable as one might think. The bonds between people of different religious affiliations, including Christians and Muslims, were not so loose in the chaotic period of the nineteenth century. Even though religious differences have always existed in South-eastern Europe, the inhabitants of that region have not always seen fellow humans with different religious affiliations as estranged others. Muslim converts to Christianity were ready to compromise their Islamic faith in exchange for security, social status, and well-being in the changed political and social environment created by Greek nationalism, with a view to advancing their professional opportunities and material interests in the new state. The Greek case is not unique. Religious conversions from Islam to Christianity occurred elsewhere in the region during the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. Yet, while Balkan historiographical literature has focused on the Islamization of Christians in the region during the Ottoman period, it has paid little attention to the inverse processes of Christianization of Muslims in the age of nationalism.

AbstractThis essay stitches together the fragments of Marx's work on the United States that are scattered in newspaper articles, letters, notes, in some digressions in his early writings, in his economic manuscripts and in Capital (1867). The main aim is to show that what we can call a “global history of the Civil War” emerges from his pen: a history that is global not simply in a geographical sense, that is, because it expands the European space beyond the Atlantic and towards the Pacific, but also because of the general meaning it takes on in the history of capitalism. The essay highlights how the Civil War opened the Marxian issue of emancipation, his vision of class struggle and his view of the working class, to the presence of a black proletariat that interacted with the struggle of the white working classes, the latter of which until then had been the main focus of his work. It also highlights how the different and disarticulated voices of labor – slave and free, black and white – on both sides of the Atlantic effected a revolutionary shift in the Civil War: interjecting a “revolutionary turn” into what we can call the “long constitutional history” of the political conflict between North and South that changed the economic and social shape of the nation. More importantly, the essay reconstructs what can be termed the “state moment,” which was entangled with the “long constitutional history” and the “revolutionary turn” of the Civil War. As the transnational calls for emancipation from slavery and wage labor impacted the transnational processes of accumulation of industrial capital, the American state became a player in the world market: its financial and fiscal policies became socially linked to the government of industrial capital. In this sense, as the essay underlines in the conclusion, the “global history of the Civil War” that Marx effectively drafted, outlined the theoretical and political hypothesis that formed the basis of his mature reflection in the pages of Capital: the “emancipation of labour” should be thought of as a global issue, “neither a local nor a national, but a social problem.”

St. Petersburg branch of the Archive of the Russian Academy of Sciences stores a correspondence between a famous French writer André Gide and a renowned soviet Orientalist scholar, member of the USSR Academy of Sciences, Fyodor Rosenberg (1867–1934). Part of the correspondence is kept in the Parisian library Jacques Doucet. In 1921, the University of Lyon published the epistolary in French (in total 338 letters). The correspondence covers a long period from 1896 to the date of death of the Russian academic. This letters allow to contemplate the spiritual world of two outstanding cultural figures of the fin de siècle, as well as to see once again how the revolution in Russia influenced the mindset and the way of life of academic life. The fact that the epistolary lacks a number of letters is mainly explained by the 1917 Revolution. Only a short collection of letters dates back to the 1920s (when Rosenberg was a senior research curator at the Asiatic Museum, now the Institute of Oriental Manuscripts of the Russian Academy of Sciences), while the early 20th century is broadly represented in the correspondence. Social and political reality becomes more and more catastrophic as it invades that highly estheticized, sometimes explicitly Pre-Raphaelite-like universe into which Rosenberg, a refined expert in both Eastern and Western-European cultural traditions, would like to withdraw. “Beautiful Italy” occupies a significant place in the letters. Rosenberg’s deep emotions connected with his being a homosexual are also an important part of the epistolary. The edition is prepared by Nikol Dziub, professor at the University of Upper Alsace (UHA). The introductory note and an extensive pageby- page commentary provide a comprehensive view of the reality, cultural landmarks, and personalities that appear in the correspondence.

Many of the new states that emerged or reconstituted themselves after the First World War used declarations of independence or preliminary constitutions, or both, as organic law until the adoption of a permanent constitution. The majority of those documents did not address the civil and political rights of citizens (e.g. Germany, Ireland) or did so very briefly (e.g. Austria, Czechoslovakia, Georgia, Latvia). Estonia stood out by having a whole chapter dedicated to civil rights in its preliminary constitution. The Preliminary Constitution of Estonia (valitsemise ajutine kord) was adopted by the Constituent Assembly (Asutav Kogu) on 4 June 1919, only six weeks after the Assembly first convened on 23 April 1919. The Constituent Assembly was elected and worked on the Preliminary Constitution at the time of the War of Independence between Estonia and Soviet Russia. Strong left-wing sentiment in the country’s society was reflected in the composition of the Assembly: social democrats held 41 seats, the Labour Party (tööerakond) held 30 seats, and Socialist-Revolutionaries (esseerid) held seven seats, together accounting for 65 per cent of the total 120 seats. The centrist People’s Party (rahvaerakond) led by the journalist and renowned politician Jaan Tõnisson had 25 seats, the centre-right Rural League (maaliit) led by another prominent politician and lawyer Konstantin Päts had only seven seats, the Christian People’s Party had five seats, three seats belonged to representatives of the German minority, and one seat went to the Russian minority. Similar proportions were reflected in the 15-member Constitution Committee that was elected on 24 April 1919. The first draft of the Preliminary Constitution, and of the Civil Rights Chapter as part of it, was allegedly prepared by a young legal scholar named Jüri Uluots. Uluots was a member of the Special Committee that was already convened by the Provisional Government in March of 1919 before the election of the Constituent Assembly. The Special Committee was composed of eight lawyers, each of whom was appointed by one of the major political parties. It was assigned the task to provide first drafts of the provisional and permanent constitutions. The Committee fulfilled only the first task. Due to disagreements in the Special Committee, the draft Preliminary Constitution was submitted to the Assembly without the Civil Rights Chapter. The Constituent Assembly processed the Preliminary Constitution Bill very quickly. The Assembly and its committees worked six days a week. It took about three weeks for the Constitution Committee to modify the Bill and submit it to the plenary session of the Assembly on 18 May 1919. The plenary session read the Bill three times and adopted it on 4 June 1919. The Preliminary Constitution entered into force on 9 July 1919 and was in force until 21 December 1920, when Estonia’s first Constitution entered into full force. The Committee spent considerable time on discussing the Civil Rights Chapter. Although concerns were expressed that the Committee was losing time with such discussions and suggestions were made to develop the chapter later as part of the permanent Constitution, the majority of the Committee deemed it important to also address civil rights in the Bill. Uluots, who had been elected to the Assembly as a candidate of the Rural League and was also a member of the Committee, submitted his draft Civil Rights Chapter to the Committee. Four out of eight sections in the Uluots draft found their way into the Chapter. These included equality before the law, civil and political rights and freedoms, and extraordinary restrictions. Sections regarding the right to participate in politics and the duty to obey the law (including military duty and the duty to pay taxes) were rejected at the plenary session, and the section regarding the right to private property was already omitted by the Committee. Also, the Committee preferred the social security provision proposed by the leader of the Socialist-Revolutionary Party, the schoolmaster Hans Kruus, to the one included in the Uluots draft. The Committee added a new provision concerning education and rejected the right to choose occupations and engage in business proposed by a People’s Party member, the military officer Karl Einbund, and a provision entitling citizens to bring criminal charges against corrupt officials proposed by the social democrat, lawyer and journalist Johan Jans. The first section of the Uluots draft declared all citizens equal before the law. Disputes arouse over the second sentence of the provision. Uluots had proposed that all property and other rights relating to social ranks (the privileges of the nobility) should be abolished. The social democrats (Jans, the writer Karl Ast and others) demanded that privileges and titles should be abolished immediately. Their more moderate opponents (Uluots, Tõnisson, Westholm and others) feared that this would create a legal vacuum in property, inheritance and matrimonial rights. The majority of the Assembly supported the more radical approach and declared that there are no privileges and titles relating to ranks in Estonia. The law implementing the abolition was adopted a year later, in June of 1920. The school headmaster Jakob Westholm, a member of the People’s Party, and Villem Ernits, a social democrat, proposed that the Committee should include a provision concerning education. Their original proposal was scaled back by omitting the duration of mandatory elementary education and by deleting the right to free secondary and university education for talented students. The Preliminary Constitution eventually stipulated (§ 5) that education is compulsory for school age children and is free in elementary schools, and that every citizen is entitled to education in his/her mother tongue. The Committee combined civil and political rights, which were originally in two separate provisions in the Uluots draft, into one section (§ 6) stipulating that the inviolability of the person and home, secrecy of correspondence, freedom of conscience, religion, expression, language, press, assembly, association, and movement can only be restricted in accordance with the law. There were no disputes over the provision in the Committee or at the plenary session. The Committee preferred the proposal made by Kruus as the basis for further discussions on social security: “Every citizen will be guaranteed a decent standard of living according to which every citizen will have the right to receive the goods and support necessary for the satisfaction of his/her basic needs before less urgent needs of other citizens are satisfied. For that purpose, citizens must be guaranteed the obtaining of employment, the protection of motherhood and work safety, and necessary state support in the case of youth, old age, work disability and accidents.” While the last part of Kruus’ proposal was similar to Uluots’ draft and the term “decent standard of living” resembled the German menschenwürdiges Dasein (later adopted in Article 151 of the Weimar Constitution), the origin of the middle part of the provision remains unclear. The social security provision was by far the most extensively debated provision of the Chapter. The main issue was the state’s ability to fulfil its promises and whether social security should take the form of direct allowances or mandatory insurance.Views diverged even within the same parliamentary groups. The Committee replaced “will be guaranteed” with the less imperative “must be guaranteed in accordance with the law”. As a compromise, it deleted the middle part guaranteeing satisfaction of basic needs since it was deemed ‘too communist’ for many members. The plenary session supported adding the right to acquire land for cultivation and dwelling in the second sentence of the provision (§ 7) just before the adoption of the Bill. The last section in the Chapter (§ 8) provided that extraordinary restrictions of the rights and freedoms of citizens and the imposition of burdens come into force in the event of the proclamation of a state of emergency on the basis and within the limits of the corresponding laws. In the course of the discussions led by the lawyer and member of the Labour Party, Lui Olesk, the Committee turned the original general limitations clause into an emergency powers clause resembling similar provisions in the Russian Constitution of 1906 (Article 83) and the Austrian Basic Law on the General Rights of Nationals of 1867 (Article 20). Uluots urged the Committee to include protection of private property in the Bill as a safeguard against tyranny. The provision caused long and heated debates on the limits to nationalisation of private property, especially the principle of fair compensation. The provision was rejected by the majority of both the Committee and the plenary session. In anticipation of land reform, the deputies did not want to narrow down legal options for the expropriation of large estates owned mostly by the German nobility. After their defeat on the protection of private property, the right-wing members wished to protect freedom to choose an occupation and engage in business, trade, industry and agriculture. The majority refused again, arguing that during the war, there had been too much profiteering, and speculators do not deserve protection, and also that the government should have free hands to regulate industry. Without any long deliberations, the Committee also rejected the proposal to allow citizens to sue civil servants in criminal courts. Jans defended his proposal by pointing out the high level of corruption among officials and the need to provide the people with a means for self-defence. His opponents argued that Estonia had already set up administrative courts in February of 1919, providing citizens with an avenue for challenging the corrupt practices of officials. Committee and Assembly members also discussed the legal nature of the fundamental rights and freedoms included in the Bill. Some social democrats deemed it important to craft the provisions as guarantees that citizens can enforce against the state (Jans), but the majority deemed the provisions as political guidance for the legislator. Supporters of the latter view were afraid that direct enforceability of the Civil Rights Chapter would saddle the government with an unsurmountable economic burden. The state’s only directly binding obligation was probably the right to free elementary education.

In spite of apparent acceptance by the Imperial government of Durham's recommendation for accelerating the inevitable assimilation of the French culture into its Anglo-Saxon environment, French Canadians nevertheless enjoyed a fair amount of de facto self-government during the years which preceded Confederation. A proof of this is their ability to consolidate during that period the ecclesiastical establishment which was to constitute the core of their social structure for the next century and their success in putting the French language more or less on the same footing as the English language by the repeal of article XLI of the Union Act. Quebeckers were even successful in effecting the codification of their civil laws. All of this however required the active cooperation of the English members of the provincial legislature. A real measure of self-determination was attained by the French as a result of Confederation which gave each province including Quebec exclusive jurisdiction in certain matters. In theory, this new freedom was to be exercised within fairly narrow limits, in view of the federal power to disallow provincial statutes, of the extensive list of federal powers which had priority over a smaller list of provincial powers, and of the federal residual power, not to mention the « general » authority of the federal Parliament. As it turned out, the provinces and therefore Quebeckers enjoyed much more freedom than had been anticipated, as a result of the Privy Council's interpretation of the constitution, a development which to some extent was predictable. The increase in provincial freedom was also due to the political pressure exercised by the provinces themselves. Surprisingly enough, Quebec did not join the « provincial league » at an early hour, Ontario being at first the main defender of provincial autonomy. Quebec's espousal of the provincial cause had to await the removal from power of the Conservatives in the province. The Liberals who took over had voted against Confederation which they regarded as unduly centralized. This in itself would have made them an ally of Ontario. But there was more than that to it. The Quebec Liberals had opposed the 1867 federation from the start (and refused to participate in the 1864 coalition) because they considered that Quebec's freedom might become unduly restrained in a system where she would be faced with numerous partners or provinces, all Anglo-Saxon, instead of having to face an English majority limited to Ontario. It so happened that the Liberals came to power on a wave of profound and widespread dissatisfaction among the French, precisely because of a perceived restriction of their freedoms during the Riel crisis. Hence, the eager look of the people of Quebec towards their own capital as a source of protection against federal encroachment to what they regarded as their legitimate rights. This feeling was reinforced regularly for a period of fifty years as a result first of the Manitoba school question, then the Alberta and Saskatchewan school question, the Keewatin school problem and last but by no means least the Ontario school crisis which this time concerned French schools only. On top of that, came the 1917 conscription to which can be traced the origin of the « modern » separatist movement. During most of that time, the Liberals were in power (1897-1936) and it is no wonder that Quebec gradually became the ever present champion of provincial rights. When Duplessis defeated the Liberals, the trend was so well established that it transcended party lines. Later, the pressure exercised gradually by the separatist movement and the increasing desire of Quebeckers to have more freedom and be masters in their own house led to the Quiet Revolution whose leaders finally asked for a special status. If polls are any indication, it is towards this last approach that a majority of Quebeckers are looking to solve the constitutional question. On the other hand, the right of peoples to self-determination has acquired a wide measure of international recognition since Durham's report which is a far cry from Professor Brossard's recent « report » on the subject as it applies to Quebec, written under the aegis of the Centre de recherche en Droit public of the law faculty of the Université de Montréal. As things now stand, the next step in the determination of Quebec's right to self-government is in the hands of Quebeckers at the forthcoming referendum.

Grundtvigs bidrag til udviklingen a f danske nationale symboler[Grundtvig ’s contribution to the development of Danish national symbols]By Inge AdriansenBroadly speaking, all Danish national symbols, both official and unofficial, are to be found in Grundtvig’s authorship. However, it is difficult to specify in what way and to what degree Grundtvig inspired the dissemination of the various symbols. The most important routes of dissemination were through Den Danske Salmebog [The Danish Hymnal] and Folkehøjskolens Sangbog [The Folk-highschool Songbookl. since the corrmosition of songs weighs heaviest in Grundtvig’s literary production. This is owing to his strong belief in the significance of song in educating the people, and to his talent for bringing to life the message of song in oral form. Since both the Hymnal and the Highschool Songbook continue to be published in revised editions, they have contributed to securing Grundtvig’s significance.Grundtvig’s hymns have often been perceived as the expression of something very Danish. Therefore he was almost entirely excluded from the first hymnal produced for the Danish-speaking congregations in the Duchy of Schleswig after its incorporation into Prussia in 1867. Some of Grundtvig’s hymns were characterised by Bishop Theodor Kaftan of Schleswig-Holstein as politically dubious and having Danish national colouring.After North Slesvig’s reunification with Denmark in 1920, Grundtvig’s hymn Den signede Dag [The blessed day] gained a special status. It was sung both at the meetings in January and February before the plebiscite and at the reunification festivities over the spring and summer. When, after the summer vacation, the schools reopened under Danish leadership, Den signede Dag was everywhere sung as the first moming-hymn. The children of Slesvig were in no doubt that Grundtvig was referring to Denmark in the final verse, which begins: “Nu rejser vi til vort Fadreland” [Now journey we to our fatherland]. In Grundtvigian homes in Slesvig the hymn was often sung at family festivities, and here it was that the tradition developed of standing up during the final verse - out of respect for the homecoming to fatherland and nation.The most significant contribution to the history of folk-education in Denmark is Grundtvig’s unitary view over hymn, historical ballad, and songs of fatherland and of folk-life. This achieves its expression in the Highschool Songbook which was first published in 1894 and has ever since helped set the norms for other Danish songbooks. The latest edition of the Highschool Songbook (from 1989) is the seventeenth, and here there are 119 songs by Grundtvig. This is 21% of the songbook’s 572 songs, and it shows that Grundtvig’s image-world continues to put its stamp upon representations of Danishness. This 17th edition was printed in over 500,000 copies, and thereby the Highschool Songbook became the Danish songbook published in the largest impression.Grundtvig has been the most significant generator of historical consciousness in Denmark, but it is a problem that only a small part of his enormous authorship and complex world of ideas is usually presented to us. At certain periods of his life Grundtvig was what many today would perceive as nationalistic. But it should be emphasised that he always stressed that Danishness has an historical and a geographical delimitation. Unfortunately there is little space within national symbolism for such complexity, and his metaphorical language was so multivalent that it has not been suited to being transposed into easily grasped symbols.Even so, this obscure metaphorical language has had a decisive significance in the development of Danish national symbolism. This is attributable in particular to the fact that Grundtvig managed to create that special interweaving of Christian, national and social identities which many Danes experience as being a matter of course and more or less of natural origin, something which has been here since the dawn of time.[Editors' note: Such terms as folkeopdragelse and folkeliv, here rendered as ‘folk-education’ and ‘folk-life’, confront Gr's translators with a special difficulty. The element folk- has little to do with the English term ‘folk-’, as in ‘folk-song’ and ‘folk-art’ with its implication of rustic or peasant provenance. Nor can it always be satisfactorily translated as ‘national’ or ‘popular’ though these can be aspects of its meaning. It essentially relates, in Grundtvigcontexts, to Gr's concept of folkelighed [‘folkliness’]: a form of social cohesion achieved by way of thinking and of conducting one's life in an enlightened and benevolent awareness of the mutual obligations and shared commitments and aspirations of a people or community identifiable by such cultural markers as a common history and a common language. In principle an inclusive concept, it nevertheless always had a potential to become exclusive in practice.]

The article focuses on the revolutionary period of 1821 and examines how the bloody uprising of the Greeks against the Ottomans, in conjunction with the international environment, transformed the notion of the nation. Before the revolution, the term “nation” had mostly cultural connotations and, from a political point of view, was a neutral category within an imperial framework, without claims to be the primary and the dominant element of political identity. The revolutionary period transformed the perception of the nation into an active political and social force and into the most important actor/subject of the historical and political processes.

This special issue is the outcome of a renewed interest in the study of 1821 and has its own history. It is the result of a series of workshops co-organised by New York University under the auspices of the Jordan Center for Advanced Study of Russia (New York) and the Research Centre for the Humanities (Athens). These workshops brought together historians and social scientists from different universities, and different national and academic environments, to discuss how the history of 1821 could be reconceptualised. 1821 was and still is, par excellence, an example of the political uses and abuses of history. So we seek to understand the revolution in terms of its own present. We titled these workshops as “1821: What Made it Greek and Revolutionary” because we aimed to view the events as if visiting them for the first time and reconsider them beyond the teleology which so much characterises any kind of revolutionary narrative.

In this paper I attempt to give an historically accurate statement of the fundamentals of Henry Peter Brougham, First Baron Brougham and Vaux's (1778-1867) political philosophy and to show how he seeks guidance in his development of this philosophy from the materials of history in general and Italian history in particular. The article seeks to explain Brougham's view that history should be written in a "non-historicist," "objective," "absolutist" and "judgmental" manner and that this position is linked to his belief that there are rationally demonstrable supreme objects of legitimate government which can be shown to be obligatory on all governments at all times however much the prevailing historical conditions may limit or condition actual practical choices. Brougham will be shown to be a proponent of representative, popular government over an extended territory as the best means to attaining the legitimate objects of government in the form of domestic order and external security. Brougham comes to this conclusion while being aware of the great advantages to be had from the absolute rule of one wise and virtuous monarch and the necessity for a purely democratic constitution when the conditions of public enlightenment and social advancement have reached their apogee. In outlining this portrait the article indicates some of the connecting links between Brougham's thought and that of both ancient and modern political philosophers as it was known to him. We find in Brougham a certain blend or melding of various strands within the tradition of liberal thought which as a central figure in the politics of the British Empire during the first third of the nineteenth century he was able to advance on the practical level. It is the hope of this article to contribute in some small way to the re-discovery of a heretofore undeservedly neglected or at least underestimated historical figure.

Recent research has mainly used two approaches to identify publishers or sources of disinformation: First, alternative media are identified as potential publishers of disinformation. Second, potential publishers of disinformation are identified via fact-checking websites. Samples created using those approaches can partly overlap. However, the two approaches differ in terms of validity and comprehensiveness of the identified population. Sampling of alternative media outlets is theory-driven and allows for cross-national comparison. However, researchers face the challenge to identify misinforming content published by alternative media outlets. In contrast, fact-checked content facilitates the identification of a given disinformation population; however, fact-checker often have a publication bias focusing on a small range of (elite) actors or sources (e.g. individual blogs, hyper partisan news outlets, or politicians). In both approaches it is important to describe, compare and, if possible, assign the outlets to already existing categories in order to enable a temporal and spatial comparison. Approaches to identify sources/publishers: Besides the operationalization of specific variables analyzed in the field of disinformation, the sampling procedure presents a crucial element to operationalize disinformation itself. Following the approach of detecting disinformation through its potential sources or publishers (Li, 2020), research analyzes alternative media (Bachl, 2018; Boberg, Quandt, Schatto-Eckrodt, & Frischlich, 2020; Heft et al., 2020) or identifies a various range of actors or domains via fact-checking sites (Allcott & Gentzkow, 2017; Grinberg et al., (2019); Guess, Nyhan & Reifler, 2018). Those two approaches are explained in the following. Alternative media as sources/publishers The following procedure summarizes the approaches used in current research for the identification of relevant alternative media outlets (following Bachl, 2018; Boberg et al., 2020; Heft et al., 2020). Snowball sampling to define the universe of alternative media outlets may consists of the following steps: Sample of outlets identified in previous research Consultation of search engines and news articles Departing from a potential prototype, websites provide information about digital metrics (Alexa.com or Similarweb.com). For example, Similarweb.com shows three relevant lists per outlet: “Top Referring Sites” (which websites are sending traffic to this site), “Also visited websites” (overlap with users of other websites), and “Competitors & Similar Sites” (similarity defined by the company) Definition of alternative media outlets Journalistic outlets (for example, excluding blogs and forums) with current, non-fictional and regular content Self-description of the outlets in a so-called “about us” section or in a mission statement, which underlines the relational perspective of being an alternative to the mainstream media. This description may for example include keywords such as alternative, independent, unbiased, critical or is in line with statements like “presenting the real/true views/facts” or “covering what the mainstream media hides/leaves out”. Use of predefined dimensions and categories of alternative media (Frischlich, Klapproth, & Brinkschulte, 2020; Holt, Ustad Figenschou, & Frischlich, 2019) Sources/publishers via fact-checking sites Following previous research in the U.S., Guess et al. (2018) identified “Fake news domains” (focusing on pro-Trump and pro-Clinton content) which published two or more articles that were coded as “fake news” by fact-checkers (derived from Allcott & Gentzkow, 2017). Grinberg et al. (2019) identified three classes of “fake news sources” differentiated by severity and frequency of false content (see Table 1). These three sources are part of a total of six website labels. The researchers additionally coded the sites into reasonable journalism, low quality journalism, satire and sites that were not applicable. The coders reached a percentual agreement of 60% for the labeling of the six categories, and 80% for the distinction of fake and non-fake categories. Table 1. Three classes of “fake news sources” by Grinberg et al. (2019) Label Specification Identification Definition Black domains Based on previous studies: These domains published at least two articles which were declared as “fake news” by fact-checking sites. Based on preexisting lists constructed by fact-checkers, journalists and academics (Allcott & Gentzkow, 2017; Guess et al., 2018) Almost exclusively fabricated stories Red domains Major or frequent falsehoods that are in line with the site's political agenda. Prejudiced: Site presents falsehoods that focus upon one group with regards to race / religion / ethnicity / sexual orientation. Major or frequent falsehoods with little regard for the truth, but not necessarily to advance a certain political agenda. By the fact-checker snopes.com as sources of questionable claims; then manually differentiated between red and orange domains Falsehoods that clearly reflected a flawed editorial process Orange domains Moderate or occasional falsehoods to advance political agenda. Sensationalism: exaggerations to the extent that the article becomes misleading and inaccurate. Occasionally prejudiced articles: Site at times presents individual articles that contain falsehoods regarding race / religion / ethnicity / sexual orientation Openly states that the site may not be inaccurate, fake news, or cannot be trusted to provide factual news. Moderate or frequent falsehoods with little regard for the truth, but not necessarily to advance a certain political agenda. Conspiratorial: explanations of events that involves unwarranted suspicion of government cover ups or supernatural agents. By the fact-checker snopes.com as sources of questionable claims; then manually differentiated between red and orange domains Negligent and deceptive information but are less systemically flawed Supplementary materials: https://science.sciencemag.org/content/sci/suppl/2019/01/23/363.6425.374.DC1/aau2706_Grinberg_SM.pdf (S5 and S6) Coding scheme and source labels: https://zenodo.org/record/2651401#.XxGtJJgzaUl (LazerLab-twitter-fake-news-replication-2c941b8\domains\domain_coding\data) References Allcott, H., & Gentzkow, M. (2017). Social media and fake news in the 2016 election. Journal of Economic Perspectives, 31(2), 211–236. Bachl, M. (2018). (Alternative) media sources in AfD-centered Facebook discussions. Studies in Communication | Media, 7(2), 256–270. Bakir, V., & McStay, A. (2018). Fake news and the economy of emotions. Digital Journalism, 6(2), 154–175. Boberg, S., Quandt, T., Schatto-Eckrodt, T., & Frischlich, L. (2020, April 6). Pandemic populism: Facebook pages of alternative news media and the corona crisis -- A computational content analysis. Retrieved from http://arxiv.org/pdf/2004.02566v3 Farkas, J., Schou, J., & Neumayer, C. (2018). Cloaked Facebook pages: Exploring fake Islamist propaganda in social media. New Media & Society, 20(5), 1850–1867. Frischlich, L., Klapproth, J., & Brinkschulte, F. (2020). Between mainstream and alternative – Co-orientation in right-wing populist alternative news media. In C. Grimme, M. Preuss, F. W. Takes, & A. Waldherr (Eds.), Lecture Notes in Computer Science. Disinformation in open online media (Vol. 12021, pp. 150–167). Cham: Springer International Publishing. Grinberg, N., Joseph, K., Friedland, L., Swire-Thompson, B., & Lazer, D. (2019). Fake news on Twitter during the 2016 U.S. Presidential election. Science (New York, N.Y.), 363(6425), 374–378. Guess, A., Nagler, J., & Tucker, J. (2019). Less than you think: Prevalence and predictors of fake news dissemination on Facebook. Science Advances, 5(1). https://doi.org/10.1126/sciadv.aau4586 Guess, A., Nyhan, B., & Reifler, J. (2018). Selective exposure to misinformation: Evidence from the consumption of fake news during the 2016 US presidential campaign. European Research Council, 9(3), 1–14. Heft, A., Mayerhöffer, E., Reinhardt, S., & Knüpfer, C. (2020). Beyond Breitbart: Comparing right?wing digital news infrastructures in six Western democracies. Policy & Internet, 12(1), 20–45. Holt, K., Ustad Figenschou, T., & Frischlich, L. (2019). Key dimensions of alternative news media. Digital Journalism, 7(7), 860–869. Nelson, J. L., & Taneja, H. (2018). The small, disloyal fake news audience: The role of audience availability in fake news consumption. New Media & Society, 20(10), 3720–3737.

Introduction In October 2007, the federal Coalition government legislated that all eligible migrants and refugees who want to become Australian citizens must sit and pass the newly designed Australian citizenship test. Prime Minister John Howard stated that by studying the essential knowledge on Australian culture, history and values that his government had defined in official citizenship test resources, migrants seeking the conferral of Australian citizenship would become "integrated" into the broader, "mainstream" community and attain a sense of belonging as new Australian citizens (qtd. in "Howard Defends Citizenship Test"). In this paper, I conduct a genealogical analysis of Becoming an Australian Citizen, the resource booklet that contains all of the information needed to prepare for the test. Focusing specifically on the section in the booklet entitled A Story of Australia which details Australian history and framing my research through a Foucauldian perspective on governmentality that focuses on the interrelationship with truth, power and knowledge in the production of subjectivities, I suggest that the inclusion of the subject of history in the test was constituted as a new order of knowledge that aimed to shape new citizens' understanding of what constituted the "correct" version of Australian identity. History was hence promoted as a form of knowledge that relied on objectivity in order to excavate the truths of Australia's past. These truths, it was claimed, had shaped the very values that the Australian people lived by and that now prospective citizens were expected to embrace. My objective is to problematise this claim that the discipline of history consists of objective truths and to move beyond recent debates in politics and historiography known as the history wars. I suggest that history instead should be viewed as a "curative science" (Foucault 90), that is, a transformative form of knowledge that focuses on the discontinuities as well as the continuities in Australia's past and which has the potential to "delimit truths" (Weeks) and thus heal the fatal impact of an official history dominated by notions of progress and achievements. This kind of cultural research not only has the capacity to influence policy-making in the field of civic education for migrant citizens, but it also has the potential to broaden understanding of Australia's past by drawing on alternative stories of Australia including the ruptures and counter stories that come together to form the multiplicity that is Australian identity. Values Eclipsing History The test was introduced at a time when the impact of globalisation was shifting conceptions of the conferral of citizenship in many Western nations from a notion of new citizens gaining legal and political rights to a concept through which becoming a naturalized citizen meant adopting a nation's particular way of life and embracing a set of core national values (Allison; Grattan; Johnson). In Australia, these values were defined as a set of principles based around liberal-democratic notions of freedom, equality, the rule of law and tolerance and promoted as "central to Australia remaining a stable, prosperous and peaceful community" (DIC 5). The Howard government believed that social cohesion was threatened by the differences emanating from recent arrivals, particularly non-Christian and non-white arrivals who did not share Australian values. These threats were contextualized through such incidents as asylum seekers allegedly throwing children overboard, the Cronulla Beach riots in 2005 and terrorist attacks close to home in Bali. Adopting Australian values was promoted as the solution to this crisis of difference. In this way, the Australian values promoted through the Australian citizenship test were allotted "a reforming role" whilst migrants and their differences were targeted as "objects of reform" (Bennett 105). Reform would be achieved by prospective citizens engaging freely in the ethical conduct of self-study of the history and values contained in the citizenship resource booklet. With some notable exceptions (see e.g. Lake and Tavan), inclusion of historical content in the test received less public scrutiny than Australian values. This is despite the fact that 37 per cent of the booklet's content was dedicated to Australian history compared to only 7 per cent dedicated to Australian values. This is also remarkable since previously, media and scholarly attention over the preceding two decades had agonised over how British colonisation and indigenous dispossession were to be represented in Australian public institutions. Popularly known as the history wars, these debates now seemed irrelevant for regulating the conduct of new citizens. The Year of the Apology: The End of the History Wars? There was also a burgeoning feeling among the broader community that a truce was in sight in the history wars (cf. Riley; Throsby). This view was supported by the outcome of the November 2007 federal election when the Howard government was defeated after eleven years in office. John Howard had been a key player in the history wars, intervening in decisions as wide ranging as the management of national museums and the preparation of high school history curricula. In his final year as prime minister, Howard became involved with overseeing what historical content was to be included in Becoming an Australian Citizen (cf. Andrews; Hirst). This had a lasting impact as even after Howard's electoral defeat, the Australian citizenship test and its accompanying resource booklet still remained in use for another two years as the essential guide that was to inform test candidates on how to be model Australian citizens. Whilst Howard's test was retained Kevin Rudd made the official Apology to the Stolen Generation as one of his first acts as prime minister in February 2008. His electoral victory was heralded as the coming of "a new intellectual culture" with "deep thinking and balanced analysis" (Nile). The Apology was also celebrated in both media and academic circles as the beginning of the process of reconciliation for both relations with indigenous and non-indigenous Australians as well as "reconciling" the controversies in history that had plagued Howard's prime ministership. In popular culture, too, the end of the history wars seemed imminent. In film, the Apology was celebrated with the release of Australia in November of that same year. Luhrmann's film became a box office hit that was later taken up by Tourism Australia to promote the nation as a desirable destination for international tourists. Langton praised it as an "eccentrically postmodern account of a recent frontier" that "has leaped over the ruins of the 'history wars' and given Australians a new past" and concluded that the film presented "an alternative history from the one John Howard and his followers constructed" (12). Similar appraisals had been made of the Australian citizenship test as the author of the historical content in the resource booklet, John Hirst, revealed that the final version of A Story of Australia "was not John Howard's and was organised contrary to his declared preference for narrative" (35). Hirst is a conservative historian who was employed by the Howard government to write "the official history of Australia" (28) for migrants and who had previously worked on other projects initiated by the Howard government, including the high school history curriculum review known as the History Summit in 2006. In an article entitled Australia: The Official History and published in The Monthly of that very same year as the Apology, Hirst divulged how in writing A Story of Australia for the citizenship resource booklet, his aim was to be "fair-minded and balanced" (31). He claimed to do this by detailing what he understood as the "two sides" in Australia's historical and political controversies relating to "Aboriginal affairs" (31), known more commonly as the history wars. Hirst's resolve was to "report the position of the two sides" (31), choosing to briefly focus on the views of historian Henry Reynolds and the political scientist Robert Manne on the one side, as well as presenting the conservative views of journalists Keith Windshuttle and Andrew Bolt on the other side (31-32). Hirst was undoubtedly referring to the two sides in the history wars that are characterised by on the one hand, commentators who believe that the brutal impact of British colonisation on indigenous peoples should be acknowledged whilst those on the other who believe that Australians should focus on celebrating their nation's relatively "peaceful past". Popularly characterised as the black armband view against the white blindfold view of Australian history, this definition does not capture the complexities, ruptures and messiness of Australia's contested past or of the debates that surround it. Hirst's categorisation, is rather problematic; while Windshuttle and Bolt's association is somewhat understandable considering their shared support in denying the existence of the Stolen Generation and massacres of indigenous communities, the association of Reynolds with Manne is certainly contestable and can be viewed as a simplistic grouping together of the "bleeding hearts" in discourses surrounding Australian history. As with the film Australia, Hirst wanted to be "the recorder of myth and memory and not simply the critical historian" (32). Unlike the film Australia, Hirst remained committed to a particular view of the discipline of history that was committed to notions of objectivity and authenticity, stating that he "was not writing this history to embody (his) own views" (31) but rather, his purpose was to introduce to new citizens what he thought captured "what Australians of today knew and valued and celebrated in their history" (32). The textual analysis that follows will illustrate that despite the declaration of a "balanced" view of Australian history being produced for migrant consumption and the call for a truce in the history wars, A Story of Australia still reflected the values and principles of a celebratory white narrative that was not concerned with recognising any side of history that dealt with the fatal impact of colonialism in stories of Australia. Disrupting the Two Sides of History The success of Australia was built on lands taken from Aboriginal people after European settlement in 1788 (DIC 32). [...]The Aboriginal people were not without friends […]. Governor Macquarie (1810-1821) took a special interest in them, running a school for their children and offering them land for farming. But very few Aboriginal people were willing to move into European society; they were not very interested in what the Europeans had to offer. (DIC 32) Despite its author's protestations against a narrative format, A Story of Australia is written as a thematic narrative that is mainly concerned with describing a nation's trajectory towards progress. It includes the usual primary school project heroes of European explorers and settlers, all of them men: Captain James Cook, Arthur Phillip and Lachlan Macquarie (17-18). It privileges a British heritage and ignores the multicultural make-up of the Australian population. In this Australian story, the convict settlers are an important factor in nation building as they found "new opportunities in this strange colony" (18) and "the ordinary soldier, the digger is a national hero" (21). Indigenous peoples, on the other hand, are described in the past tense as part of pre-history having "hunter-gatherer traditions" (32), whose culture exists today only in spectacle and who have only themselves to blame for their marginalisation by refusing the help of the white settlers. Most notable in this particular version of history are the absent stories and absent characters; there is little mention of the achievements of women and nation-building is presented as an exclusively masculine enterprise. There is also scarce mention of the contribution of migrants. Also absent is any mention of the colonisation of the Australian continent that dispossessed its Indigenous peoples. For instance, the implementation of the assimilation policy that required the forcible removal of Aboriginal children from their families is not even named as the Stolen Generation in the resource booklet, and the fight for native land rights encapsulated in the historic Mabo decision of 1992 is referred to as merely a "separatist policy" (33). In this way, it cannot be claimed that this is a balanced portrayal of Australia's past even by Hirst's own standards for it is difficult to locate the side represented by Reynolds and Manne. Once again, comparisons with the film Australia are useful. Although praised for raising "many thorny issues" relating to "national legitimacy and Aboriginal sovereignty" (Konishi and Nugent), Ashenden concludes that the film is "a mix of muttering, avoidance of touchy topics, and sporadic outbursts". Hogan also argues that the film Australia is "an exercise in national wish fulfillment, staged as a high budget, unabashedly commercial and sporadically ironic spectacle" that "offers symbolic absolution for the violence of colonialism" (63). Additionally, Hirst's description of a "successful" nation being built on the "uncultivated" indigenous lands suggests that colonisation was necessary and unavoidable if Australia was to progress into a civilised nation. Both Hirst's A Story of Australia and his Australia: The Official History share more than just the audacious appropriation of a proper noun with the film Australia as these cultural texts grant prominence to the values and principles of a celebratory white narrative of Australian history while playing down the unpalatable episodes, making any prospective citizen who does not accept these "balanced" versions of historical truths as deviant and unworthy of becoming an Australian citizen. Our Australian Story: Reconciling the Fatal Impact The Australian citizenship test and its accompanying booklet, Becoming an Australian Citizen were replaced in October 2009 with a revised test and a new booklet entitled, Australian Citizenship: Our Common Bond. The Australian Citizenship Test Review Committee deemed the 2007 original test to be "flawed, intimidating to some and discriminatory" (Australian Citizenship Test Review Committee 3). It replaced mandatory knowledge of Australian values with that of the Citizenship Pledge and determined that the subject of Australian history, although "nice-to-know" was not essential for assessing the suitability of the conferral of Australian citizenship. History content is now included in the new booklet in the non-testable section under the more inclusive title of Our Australian Story. This particular version of history now names the Stolen Generation, includes references to Australia's multicultural make up and even recognises some of the fatal effects of British colonisation. The Apology features prominently over three long paragraphs (71) and Indigenous dispossession is now described under the title of Fatal Impact as follows: The early governors were told not to harm the Aboriginal people, but the British settlers moved onto Aboriginal land and many Aboriginal people were killed. Settlers were usually not punished for committing these crimes. (58) So does this change in tone in the official history in the resource booklet for prospective citizens "prove" that the history wars are over? This more conciliatory version of Australia's past is still not the "real proof" that the history wars are over for despite broadening its categories of what constitutes as historical truth, these truths still privilege an exclusive white perspective. For example, in the new resource booklet, detail on the Stolen Generation is included as a relevant historical event in relation to what the office of Prime Minister, the Bringing Them Home Report and the Official Apology have achieved for Indigenous Australians and for the national identity, stating that "the Sorry speech was an important step forward for all Australians" (71). Perhaps then, we need to discard this way of thinking that frames the past as an ethical struggle between right and wrong and a moral battle between victors and losers. If we cease thinking of our nation's history as a battleground between celebrators and mourners and stop framing our national identity in terms of achievers and those who were not interested in building the nation, then we recognise that these "war" discourses are only the products of "games of truth" invented by governments, expert historians and their institutions. In this way, official texts can produce the possibility for a range of players from new directions to participate in what content can be included as historical truths in Australian stories and what is possible in productions of official Australian identities. The Australian Citizenship Review Committee understood this potential impact as it has recommended "the government commit to reviewing the content of the book at regular intervals given the evolving nature of Australian society" (Australian Citizenship Test Review Committee 25). In disrupting the self-evident notion of a balanced history of facts with its evocation of an equal society and by exposing how governmental institutions have used these texts as instruments of social governance (cf. Bennett), we can come to understand that there are other ways of being Australian and alternative perspectives on Australian history. The production of official histories can work towards producing a "curative science" that heals the fatal impact of the past. The impact of this kind of cultural research should be directed towards the discourse of history wars. In this way, history becomes not a battlefield but "a differential knowledge of energies and failings, heights and degenerations, poisons and antidotes" (Foucault 90) which has the capacity to transform Australian society into a society inclusive of all indigenous, non-indigenous and migrant citizens and which can work towards reconciliation of the nation's history, and perhaps, even of its people. References Allison, Lyn. "Citizenship Test Is the New Aussie Cringe." The Drum. ABC News. 4 Dec. 2011 ‹http://www.abc.net.au/news/2007-09-28/citizenship-test-is-the-new-aussie-cringe/683634›. Andrews, Kevin. "Citizenship Test Resource Released." MediaNet Press Release Wire 26 Aug. 2007: 1. Ashenden, Dean. "Luhrmann, Us, and Them." Inside Story 18 Dec. 2008. 4 Dec. 2011 ‹http://inside.org.au/luhrmann-us-and-them/›. Australian Citizenship Test Review Committee. Moving Forward... Improving Pathways to Citizenship. Canberra: Commonwealth of Australia, 2008. Australian Government. Australian Citizenship: Our Common Bond. Belconnen: National Communications Branch of the Department of Immigration and Citizenship, 2009.Bennett, Tony. Culture: A Reformer's Science. St Leonards: Allen and Unwin, 1998. DIC (Department of Immigration and Citizenship). Becoming an Australian Citizen: Citizenship. Your Commitment to Australia. Canberra, 2007.Foucault, Michel. "Nietzsche, Genealogy, History." The Foucault Reader. New York: Pantheon Books, 1984. 76-100. Grattan, Michelle. "Accept Australian Values or Get Out." The Age 25 Aug. 2005: 1. Hirst, John. "Australia: The Official History." The Monthly 6 Feb. 2008: 28-35. "Howard Defends Citizenship Test." The Age 11 Dec. 2006. Howard, John. "A Sense of Balance: The Australian Achievement in 2006 - Address to the National Press Club, 25 January." PM's News Room: Speeches. Canberra: Department of Prime Minister and Cabinet. Johnson, Carol. "John Howard's 'Values' and Australian Identity." Australian Journal of Political Science 42.2 (2007): 195-209. Konishi, Shino, and Maria Nugent. "Reviewing Indigenous History in Baz Luhrmann's Australia." Inside Story 4 Dec. 2009. 4 Dec. 2011 ‹http://inside.org.au/reviewing-indigenous-history-in-baz-luhrmanns-australia/›. Lake, Marilyn. "Wasn't This a Government Obsessed with Historical 'Truth'?" The Age 29 Oct. 2007: 13. Langton, Marcia. "Faraway Downs Fantasy Resonates Close to Home." Sunday Age 23 November 2008: 12. Nile, Richard. "End of the Culture Wars." Richard Nile Blog. The Australian 28 Nov. 2007. Riley, Mark. "Sorry, But the PM Says the Culture Wars Are Over." Sydney Morning Herald 10 Sep. 2003: 1. Tavan, Gwenda. "Testing Times: The Problem of 'History' in the Howard Government's Australian Citizenship Test." Does History Matter? Making and Debating Citizenship, Immigration and Refugee Policy in Australia and New Zealand. Eds. Neumann, Klaus and Gwenda Tavan. Canberra: ANU E P, 2009. Throsby, David. "A Truce in the Culture Wars." Sydney Morning Herald 26 Apr. 2008: 32. Weeks, Jeffrey. "Foucault for Historians." History Workshop 14 (Autumn 1982): 106-19.

Dégueulasse is French slang for “disgusting,” derived in 1867 from the French verb dégueuler, to vomit. Despite its vulgar status, it is frequently used by almost every French speaker, including foreigners and students. It is also a term that has often been employed to describe the 1973 cult film, La Grande bouffe [Blow Out], by Marco Ferreri, which recounts in grotesque detail the gastronomic suicide of four male protagonists. This R-rated French-Italian production was booed, and the director spat on, at the 26th Cannes Film Festival—the Jury President, Ingrid Bergman, said it was the most “sordid” film she’d ever seen, and is even reported to have vomited after watching it (Télérama). Ferreri nevertheless walked away with the Prix FIPRESCI, awarded by the Federation of International Critics, and it is apparently the largest grossing release in the history of Paris with more than 700,000 entries in Paris and almost 3 million in France overall. Scandal sells, and this was especially seemingly so 1970s, when this film was avidly consumed as part of an unholy trinity alongside Bernardo Bertolucci’s Le Dernier Tango à Paris [Last Tango in Paris] (1972) and Jean Eustache’s La Maman et la putain [The Mother and the Whore] (1973). Fast forward forty years, though, and at the very moment when La Grande bouffe was being commemorated with a special screening on the 2013 Cannes Film Festival programme, a handful of University of Melbourne French students in a subject called “Matters of Taste” were boycotting the film as an unacceptable assault to their sensibilities. Over the decade that I have been showing the film to undergraduate students, this has never happened before. In this article, I want to examine critically the questions of taste that underpin this particular predicament. Analysing firstly the intradiegetic portrayal of taste in the film, through both gustatory and aesthetic signifiers, then the choice of the film as a key element in a University subject corpus, I will finally question the (dis)taste displayed by certain students, contextualising it as part of an ongoing socio-cultural commentary on food, sex, life, and death. Framed by a brief foray into Bourdieusian theories of taste, I will attempt to draw some conclusions on the continual renegotiation of gustatory and aesthetic tastes in relation to La Grande bouffe, and thereby deepen understanding of why it has become the incarnation of dégueulasse today. Theories of Taste In the 1970s, the parameters of “good” and “bad” taste imploded in the West, following political challenges to the power of the bourgeoisie that also undermined their status as the contemporary arbiters of taste. This revolution of manners was particularly shattering in France, fuelled by the initial success of the May 68 student, worker, and women’s rights movements (Ross). The democratization of taste served to legitimize desires different from those previously dictated by bourgeois norms, enabling greater diversity in representing taste across a broad spectrum. It was reflected in the cultural products of the 1970s, including cinema, which had already broken with tradition during the New Wave in the late 1950s and early 1960s, and became a vector for political ideologies as well as radical aesthetic choices (Smith). Commonly regarded as “the decade that taste forgot,” the 1970s were also a time for re-assessing the sociology of taste, with the magisterial publication of Pierre Bourdieu’s Distinction: A Social Critique of the Judgement of Taste (1979, English trans. 1984). As Bourdieu refuted Kant’s differentiation between the legitimate aesthetic, so defined by its “disinterestedness,” and the common aesthetic, derived from sensory pleasures and ordinary meanings, he also attempted to abolish the opposition between the “taste of reflection” (pure pleasure) and the “taste of sense” (facile pleasure) (Bourdieu 7). In so doing, he laid the foundations of a new paradigm for understanding the apparently incommensurable choices that are not the innate expression of our unique personalities, but rather the product of our class, education, family experiences—our habitus. Where Bourdieu’s theories align most closely with the relationship between taste and revulsion is in the realm of aesthetic disposition and its desire to differentiate: “good” taste is almost always predicated on the distaste of the tastes of others. Tastes (i.e. manifested preferences) are the practical affirmation of an inevitable difference. It is no accident that, when they have to be justified, they are asserted purely negatively, by the refusal of other tastes. In matters of taste, more than anywhere else, all determination is negation; and tastes are perhaps first and foremost distastes, disgust provoked by horror or visceral intolerance (“sick-making”) of the tastes of others. “De gustibus non est disputandum”: not because “tous les goûts sont dans la nature,” but because each taste feels itself to be natural—and so it almost is, being a habitus—which amounts to rejecting others as unnatural and therefore vicious. Aesthetic intolerance can be terribly violent. Aversion to different life-styles is perhaps one of the strongest barriers between the classes (Bourdieu). Although today’s “Gen Y” Melbourne University students are a long way from 1970s French working class/bourgeois culture clashes, these observations on taste as the corollary of distaste are still salient tools of interpretation of their attitudes towards La Grande bouffe. And, just as Bourdieu effectively deconstructed Kant’s Critique of Aesthetic Judgement and the 18th “century of taste” notions of universality and morality in aesthetics (Dickie, Gadamer, Allison) in his groundbreaking study of distinction, his own theories have in turn been subject to revision in an age of omnivorous consumption and eclectic globalisation, with various cultural practices further destabilising the hierarchies that formerly monopolized legitimate taste (Sciences Humaines, etc). Bourdieu’s theories are still, however, useful for analysing La Grande bouffe given the contemporaneous production of these texts, as they provide a frame for understanding (dis)taste both within the filmic narrative and in the wider context of its reception. Taste and Distaste in La Grande bouffe To go to the cinema is like to eat or shit, it’s a physiological act, it’s urban guerrilla […] Enough with feelings, I want to make a physiological film (Celluloid Liberation Front). Marco Ferreri’s statements about his motivations for La Grande bouffe coincide here with Bourdieu’s explanation of taste: clearly the director wished to depart from psychological cinema favoured by contemporary critics and audiences and demonstrated his distaste for their preference. There were, however, psychological impulses underpinning his subject matter, as according to film academic Maurizio Viano, Ferrari had a self-destructive, compulsive relation to food, having been forced to spend a few weeks in a Swiss clinic specialising in eating disorders in 1972–1973 (Viano). Food issues abound in his biography. In an interview with Tullio Masoni, the director declared: “I was fat as a child”; his composer Phillipe Sarde recalls the grand Italian-style dinners that he would organise in Paris during the film; and, two of the film’s stars, Marcello Mastroianni and Ugo Tognazzi, actually credit the conception of La Grande bouffe to a Rabelaisian feast prepared by Tognazzi, during which Ferreri exclaimed “hey guys, we are killing ourselves!” (Viano 197–8). Evidently, there were psychological factors behind this film, but it was nevertheless the physiological aspects that Ferreri chose to foreground in his creation. The resulting film does indeed privilege the physiological, as the protagonists fornicate, fart, vomit, defecate, and—of course—eat, to wild excess. The opening scenes do not betray such sordid sequences; the four bourgeois men are introduced one by one so as to establish their class credentials as well as display their different tastes. We first encounter Ugo (Tognazzi), an Italian chef of humble peasant origins, as he leaves his elegant restaurant “Le Biscuit à soupe” and his bourgeois French wife, to take his knives and recipes away with him for the weekend. Then Michel (Piccoli), a TV host who has pre-taped his shows, gives his apartment keys to his 1970s-styled baba-cool daughter as he bids her farewell, and packs up his cleaning products and rubber gloves to take with him. Marcello (Mastroianni) emerges from a cockpit in his aviator sunglasses and smart pilot’s uniform, ordering his sexy airhostesses to carry his cheese and wine for him as he takes a last longing look around his plane. Finally, the judge and owner of the property where the action will unfold, Philippe (Noiret), is awoken by an elderly woman, Nicole, who feeds him tea and brioche, pestering him for details of his whereabouts for the weekend, until he demonstrates his free will and authority, joking about his serious life, and lying to her about attending a legal conference in London. Having given over power of attorney to Nicole, he hints at the finality of his departure, but is trying to wrest back his independence as his nanny exhorts him not to go off with whores. She would rather continue to “sacrifice herself for him” and “keep it in the family,” as she discreetly pleasures him in this scene. Scholars have identified each protagonist as an ideological signifier. For some, they represent power—Philippe is justice—and three products of that ideology: Michel is spectacle, Ugo is food, and Marcello is adventure (Celluloid Liberation Front). For others, these characters are the perfect incarnations of the first four Freudian stages of sexual development: Philippe is Oedipal, Michel is indifferent, Ugo is oral, and Marcello is impotent (Tury & Peter); or even the four temperaments of Hippocratic humouralism: Philippe the phlegmatic, Michel the melancholic, Ugo the sanguine, and Marcello the choleric (Calvesi, Viano). I would like to offer another dimension to these categories, positing that it is each protagonist’s taste that prescribes his participation in this gastronomic suicide as well as the means by which he eventually dies. Before I develop this hypothesis, I will first describe the main thrust of the narrative. The four men arrive at the villa at 68 rue Boileau where they intend to end their days (although this is not yet revealed). All is prepared for the most sophisticated and decadent feasting imaginable, with a delivery of the best meats and poultry unfurling like a surrealist painting. Surrounded by elegant artworks and demonstrating their cultural capital by reciting Shakespeare, Brillat-Savarin, and other classics, the men embark on a race to their death, beginning with a competition to eat the most oysters while watching a vintage pornographic slideshow. There is a strong thread of masculine athletic engagement in this film, as has been studied in detail by James R. Keller in “Four Little Caligulas: La Grande bouffe, Consumption and Male Masochism,” and this is exacerbated by the arrival of a young but matronly schoolmistress Andréa (Ferréol) with her students who want to see the garden. She accepts the men’s invitation to stay on in the house to become another object of competitive desire, and fully embraces all the sexual and gustatory indulgence around her. Marcello goes further by inviting three prostitutes to join them and Ugo prepares a banquet fit for a funeral. The excessive eating makes Michel flatulent and Marcello impotent; when Marcello kicks the toilet in frustration, it explodes in the famous fecal fountain scene that apparently so disgusted his then partner Catherine Deneuve, that she did not speak to him for a week (Ebert). The prostitutes flee the revolting madness, but Andréa stays like an Angel of Death, helping the men meet their end and, in surviving, perhaps symbolically marking an end to the masculinist bourgeoisie they represent.To return to the role of taste in defining the rise and demise of the protagonists, let me begin with Marcello, as he is the first to die. Despite his bourgeois attitudes, he is a modern man, associated with machines and mobility, such as the planes and the beautiful Bugatti, which he strokes with greater sensuality than the women he hoists onto it. His taste is for the functioning mechanical body, fast and competitive, much like himself when he is gorging on oysters. But his own body betrays him when his “masculine mechanics” stop functioning, and it is the fact that the Bugatti has broken down that actually causes his death—he is found frozen in driver’s seat after trying to escape in the Bugatti during the night. Marcello’s taste for the mechanical leads therefore to his eventual demise. Michel is the next victim of his own taste, which privileges aesthetic beauty, elegance, the arts, and fashion, and euphemises the less attractive or impolite, the scatological, boorish side of life. His feminized attire—pink polo-neck and flowing caftan—cannot distract from what is happening in his body. The bourgeois manners that bind him to beauty mean that breaking wind traumatises him. His elegant gestures at the dance barre encourage rather than disguise his flatulence; his loud piano playing cannot cover the sound of his loud farts, much to the mirth of Philippe and Andréa. In a final effort to conceal his painful bowel obstruction, he slips outside to die in obscene and noisy agony, balanced in an improbably balletic pose on the balcony balustrade. His desire for elegance and euphemism heralds his death. Neither Marcello nor Michel go willingly to their ends. Their tastes are thwarted, and their deaths are disgusting to them. Their cadavers are placed in the freezer room as silent witnesses to the orgy that accelerates towards its fatal goal. Ugo’s taste is more earthy and inherently linked to the aims of the adventure. He is the one who states explicitly: “If you don’t eat, you won’t die.” He wants to cook for others and be appreciated for his talents, as well as eat and have sex, preferably at the same time. It is a combination of these desires that kills him as he force-feeds himself the monumental creation of pâté in the shape of the Cathedral of Saint-Peter that has been rejected as too dry by Philippe, and too rich by Andréa. The pride that makes him attempt to finish eating his masterpiece while Andréa masturbates him on the dining table leads to a heart-stopping finale for Ugo. As for Philippe, his taste is transgressive. In spite of his upstanding career as a judge, he lies and flouts convention in his unorthodox relationship with nanny Nicole. Andréa represents another maternal figure to whom he is attracted and, while he wishes to marry her, thereby conforming to bourgeois norms, he also has sex with her, and her promiscuous nature is clearly signalled. Given his status as a judge, he reasons that he can not bring Marcello’s frozen body inside because concealing a cadaver is a crime, yet he promotes collective suicide on his premises. Philippe’s final transgression of the rules combines diabetic disobedience with Oedipal complex—Andréa serves him a sugary pink jelly dessert in the form of a woman’s breasts, complete with cherries, which he consumes knowingly and mournfully, causing his death. Unlike Marcello and Michel, Ugo and Philippe choose their demise by indulging their tastes for ingestion and transgression. Following Ferreri’s motivations and this analysis of the four male protagonists, taste is clearly a cornerstone of La Grande bouffe’s conception and narrative structure. It is equally evident that these tastes are contrary to bourgeois norms, provoking distaste and even revulsion in spectators. The film’s reception at the time of its release and ever since have confirmed this tendency in both critical reviews and popular feedback as André Habib’s article on Salo and La Grande bouffe (2001) meticulously demonstrates. With such a violent reaction, one might wonder why La Grande bouffe is found on so many cinema studies curricula and is considered to be a must-see film (The Guardian). Corpus and Corporeality in Food Film Studies I chose La Grande bouffe as the first film in the “Matters of Taste” subject, alongside Luis Bunuel’s Le Charme discret de la bourgeoisie, Gabriel Axel’s Babette’s Feast, and Laurent Bénégui’s Au Petit Marguery, as all are considered classic films depicting French eating cultures. Certainly any French cinema student would know La Grande bouffe and most cinephiles around the world have seen it. It is essential background knowledge for students studying French eating cultures and features as a key reference in much scholarly research and popular culture on the subject. After explaining the canonical status of La Grande bouffe and thus validating its inclusion in the course, I warned students about the explicit nature of the film. We studied it for one week out of the 12 weeks of semester, focusing on questions of taste in the film and the socio-cultural representations of food. Although the almost ubiquitous response was: “C’est dégueulasse!,” there was no serious resistance until the final exam when a few students declared that they would boycott any questions on La Grande bouffe. I had not actually included any such questions in the exam. The student evaluations at the end of semester indicated that several students questioned the inclusion of this “disgusting pornography” in the corpus. There is undoubtedly less nudity, violence, gore, or sex in this film than in the Game of Thrones TV series. What, then, repulses these Gen Y students? Is it as Pasolini suggests, the neorealistic dialogue and décor that disturbs, given the ontologically challenging subject of suicide? (Viano). Or is it the fact that there is no reason given for the desire to end their lives, which privileges the physiological over the psychological? Is the scatological more confronting than the pornographic? Interestingly, “food porn” is now a widely accepted term to describe a glamourized and sometimes sexualized presentation of food, with Nigella Lawson as its star, and hundreds of blog sites reinforcing its popularity. Yet as Andrew Chan points out in his article “La Grande bouffe: Cooking Shows as Pornography,” this film is where it all began: “the genealogy reaches further back, as brilliantly visualized in Marco Ferreri’s 1973 film La Grande bouffe, in which four men eat, screw and fart themselves to death” (47). Is it the overt corporeality depicted in the film that shocks cerebral students into revulsion and rebellion? Conclusion In the guise of a conclusion, I suggest that my Gen Y students’ taste may reveal a Bourdieusian distaste for the taste of others, in a third degree reaction to the 1970s distaste for bourgeois taste. First degree: Ferreri and his entourage reject the psychological for the physiological in order to condemn bourgeois values, provoking scandal in the 1970s, but providing compelling cinema on a socio-political scale. Second degree: in spite of the outcry, high audience numbers demonstrate their taste for scandal, and La Grande bouffe becomes a must-see canonical film, encouraging my choice to include it in the “Matters of Taste” corpus. Third degree: my Gen Y students’ taste expresses a distaste for the academic norms that I have embraced in showing them the film, a distaste that may be more aesthetic than political. Oui, c’est dégueulasse, mais … Bibliography Allison, Henry E. Kant’s Theory of Taste: A Reading of the Critique of Aesthetic Judgement. Cambridge, UK: Cambridge UP, 2001. Bourdieu, Pierre. Distinction: A Social Critique of the Judgement of Taste. Trans. Richard Nice. Cambridge, Massachusetts: Harvard UP, 1984. Calvesi, M. “Dipingere all moviola” (Painting at the Moviola). Corriere della Sera, 10 Oct. 1976. Reprint. “Arti figurative e il cinema” (Cinema and the Visual Arts). Avanguardia di massa. Ed. M. Calvesi. Milan: Feltrinelli, 1978. 243–46. Celluloid Liberation Front. “Consumerist Ultimate Indigestion: La Grande Bouffe's Deadly Physiological Pleasures.” Bright Lights Film Journal 60 (2008). 13 Jan. 2014 ‹http://brightlightsfilm.com/60/60lagrandebouffe.php#.Utd6gs1-es5›. Chan, Andrew. “La Grande bouffe: Cooking Shows as Pornography.” Gastronomica: The Journal of Food and Culture 3.4 (2003): 47–53. Dickie, George. The Century of Taste: The Philosophical Odyssey of Taste in the Eighteenth Century. New York and Oxford: Oxford UP, 1996. Ebert, Roger, “La Grande bouffe.” 13 Jan. 2014 ‹http://www.rogerebert.com/reviews/la-grande-bouffe-1973›. Ferreri, Marco. La Grande bouffe. Italy-France, 1973. Freedman, Paul H. Food: The History of Taste. U of California P, 2007. Gadamer, Hans-Georg. Truth and Method. Trans. Joel Winsheimer and Donald C. Marshall. New York: Continuum, 1999. Habib, André. “Remarques sur une ‘réception impossible’: Salo and La Grande bouffe.” Hors champ (cinéma), 4 Jan. 2001. 11 Jan. 2014 ‹http://www.horschamp.qc.ca/cinema/030101/salo-bouffe.html›. Keller, James R. “Four Little Caligulas: La Grande bouffe, Consumption and Male Masochism.” Food, Film and Culture: A Genre Study. Jefferson, North Carolina: McFarland & Co, 2006: 49–59. Masoni, Tullio. Marco Ferreri. Gremese, 1998. Pasolini, P.P. “Le ambigue forme della ritualita narrativa.” Cinema Nuovo 231 (1974): 342–46. Ross, Kristin. May 68 and its Afterlives. Chicago: U of Chicago P, 2008. Smith, Alison. French Cinema in the 1970s: The Echoes of May. Manchester: Manchester UP, 2005. Télérama: “La Grande bouffe: l’un des derniers grands scandales du Festival de Cannes. 19 May 2013. 13 Jan. 2014 ‹http://www.telerama.fr/festival-de-cannes/2013/la-grande-bouffe-l-un-des-derniers-grands-scandales-du-festival-de-cannes,97615.php›. The Guardian: 1000 films to see before you die. 2007. 17 Jan. 2014 ‹http://www.theguardian.com/film/series/1000-films-to-see-before-you-die› Tury, F., and O. Peter. “Food, Life, and Death: The Film La Grande bouffe of Marco Ferreri in an Art Psychological Point of View.” European Psychiatry 22.1 (2007): S214. Viano, Maurizio. “La Grande Abbuffata/La Grande bouffe.” The Cinema of Italy. Ed. Giorgio Bertellini. London: Wallflower Press, 2004: 193–202.