A City with No Memory?

Nicola Gauld

Nicola Gauld

Nicola Gauld is the Co-ordinator for Voices of War and Peace: the Great War and its legacy. She is a historian, outreach worker and curator based in Birmingham. You can follow her on Twitter @nicolagauld or on her blog.


In December 2014 Birmingham City Council announced drastic cuts to its budget for 2015 and beyond. The Library of Birmingham, opened in September 2013 at a cost of £189m and the biggest public library in Europe, did not escape and a saving of £1.3m is currently being implemented, resulting in around 100 redundancies to be made in 2015 and a reduction in opening hours from 73 to 40 per week. Further cuts to the service are likely to be made in 2016-2018. The city’s Archives, Heritage & Photography department, housed in the Library, will be dramatically affected. This will inevitably result in reduced access to documents and photographs that are the city’s memory and the loss of skilled and experienced staff will mean that the service can no longer engage with citizens from across Birmingham to tell their stories and include them in the archive for the future.

A recent event at the newly-opened Impact Hub Birmingham, organised by myself, Immy Kaur (Co-founder of the Hub), Fiona Joseph (author) and Jez Collins (BCU/Birmingham Music Archive), discussed how we could deal with this situation. My connection to the archive is closely related to my personal experience of living in Birmingham. After moving here in late 2009 it took many months to feel part of the city, and starting work with the archives in spring 2011 undoubtedly helped me to connect, primarily through the city’s history but also through working with colleagues. For Fiona, who has written extensively about Birmingham’s historical residents, including the Cadbury family, the city’s history and its archive collections are essential for her work and Fiona spoke eloquently about the ‘trail of discovery’ that occurs when you begin to delve into the city’s history. Handling archive material triggers connections to the past, and to restrict access to that material, to letters, photographs, documents, that which connects us as humans, will inevitably have a negative impact. As Fiona remarked, by accepting the loss of the archive we are saying that it’s ok to be divorced from the past. As a ‘citizen archivist’ Jez set up the Birmingham Music Archive, a resource that clearly demonstrates the importance of shared memories and nostalgia, helping people to connect to the past but also to the present and to other people. Jez observed that it was important to reimagine how the service might be delivered – what might be the new ways of working and can that be more diverse and inclusive?

Discussions at the Impact Hub

Discussions at the Impact Hub

The event attempted to explore the following questions: what will the cuts to the Library and Archives service mean for the city and its residents? What does engagement with the city’s past now look like in this new landscape? How can we, its citizens, help protect and preserve the city’s important historical legacy? And how do we harness our shared knowledge of the past to better inform Birmingham’s future? All who were present at the event understand that the cuts should be resisted and that we should protest vehemently and loudly against them but we also wanted to start thinking about the landscape after those cuts have happened. And they are happening: colleagues and friends are losing their jobs, jobs that they have done for decades, jobs that they love and do out of passion and enthusiasm, jobs they desperately don’t want to leave, but the reality is that Birmingham City Council will not protect them, or attempt to find ways to protect them, and clearly does not value the work that has been done over the years, the active and determined inclusion in the archive of new residents and citizens of Birmingham, the sense of place and identity, belonging even, that has come from the many, many projects the archive has been involved in. Being angry about that, being incredibly sad, demoralised and outraged about the situation will take time to fade but what can we do about it? How can we keep doing the good work, keep reaching out to communities, keep telling those stories that will remain otherwise untold?

Jez talking about the Birmingham Music Archive

Jez talking about the Birmingham Music Archive

We come together and build libraries and archives because the past is bigger than any us. What do we do when the institutions that we build are taken away? Birmingham Archives, Heritage & Photography has recognised that an archive is a collaboration, built together by citizens, demonstrated by the years of valuable outreach work that has been done (for example Connecting Histories, Birmingham Stories). How can we help enable and support that outreach work to continue happening? Sadly the word ‘outreach’ disappeared from the Library of Birmingham’s staffing structure before the new building had even opened but the huge importance of the work that has been done cannot be disregarded (see Jim Ranahan’s recent blog post ‘Real People, Real Archives’ on the 10th anniversary of Connecting Histories). This work is too precious to lose and we must not allow the cuts to prevent this work from continuing to happen in the future. The form in which it happens now needs to be re-thought, re-negotiated and re-navigated.

As Matt Houlbrook remarked during the discussion, we are at risk of writing Birmingham out of UK and world history – is that really what we want?

Peter Hayman, PIE and PREM 19/588: An Alternative Account

Chris Moores

Chris Moores

Dr Chris Moores writes about Peter Hayman, the Paedophile Information Exchange (PIE), the release of National Archives files PREM 19/588 and an alternative account of the prosecution of PIE members.


The discovery and release of Government papers detailing the investigation into the conduct of the diplomat Peter Hayman have generated substantial press coverage over the past week. The PREM 19/588 files released by the National Archives can be seen on the blog of Ian Pace and Spotlight on Abuse; both of which provide substantial resources on historical child-sex offence cases.

In many respects the official documents confirmed much of what we already knew about Hayman. A retired diplomat and former British High Commissioner in Canada, he was exposed in the pages of Private Eye in 1980, named by the Conservative MP Geoffrey Dickens under Parliamentary privilege in 1981, and scrutinized in the press during the early 1980s. These accounts linked his activities with the now notorious paedophile advocacy group the Paedophile Information Exchange (PIE).

It is interesting, but not entirely surprising, to learn that reports on Hayman crossed the Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher’s desk and that a press ‘line’ was agreed. The documents are also demonstrative of long-standing Cold War anxieties about the subversive potential of sexual blackmail; a key concern of the authorities was the potential national security implications that Hayman’s activities might have created.

The documents address press concerns that there was an official attempt to protect Hayman. They say that he was not considered immune from prosecution and that there was no evidence linking him to specific crimes.  Accordingly, Hayman was not central to PIE’s operations and there was no evidence to link him with the charge of ‘conspiracy to corrupt public morals’ which was directed against other PIE members.

Such official observations contrast with other contemporary observations of the trials of PIE leaders. The accounts of the PIE trials written by members of the National Council for Civil Liberties (NCCL) Gay Rights Sub-Committee interpret the conduct of the prosecutors differently. It is now fairly well-known that PIE had links to the NCCL’s Gay Rights Sub-Committee in the late 1970s and early 1980s. Two PIE members briefly and occasionally served on that Sub-Committee.

As with many organizations from the ‘gay left’, this body was concerned about the potential implications that the PIE trials might have on the future policing of ‘non-normative’ sexual behaviour including homosexuality. Many civil libertarians were also very anxious about the vagueness of conspiracy charges. Subsequently, the NCCL Gay Rights Sub-Committee monitored the PIE trial very carefully.

Moreover, it was close to the defence team involved in the PIE trials. Peter Thornton, a member of the NCCL’s executive, served as a barrister in PIE cases and its Gay Rights Officer, Barry Prothero, attended the committal proceedings to decide what evidence might be used against PIE. After the collapse of the first PIE trial in November 1980 Prothero wrote to gay rights campaigners in Canada noting on the case that ‘the DPP [Director of Public Prosecutions] seems to be negotiating to drop the conspiracy charges’ because ‘there is another man who may have been charged and who was not because of his connections and blowing the cover-up is likely to be worse for the DPP than proceeding with the prosecutions’.

Prothero observed that ‘although assisting in a “cover-up” may be distasteful, not only the defendants but the entire gay movement in this country would be delighted if this one succeeded in order to keep the case out of court’.[1]

A second letter, written in February 1981, was even more specific. Prothero wrote that the first PIE trial used a ‘tiny fraction of the evidence presented at the committal proceedings’ and called only four of the thirteen witnesses present at the earlier hearing. ‘Of the hundred odd boxes of material that were used at the committal, only five magazines and a handful of letters were used at the trials’.

Accordingly Prothero observed that ‘it is clear that most of the evidence that was not used was dropped because Hayman, the erstwhile HC to Canada, was the central figure in its production. The defence barristers tell me that he began the “round Robin”, as the letter writing circle is called, which generated most of the material upon which the committal was based’.[2]

Such reports may be dismissed as the ill-informed writings of an over-worked pressure group officer holding a position on a Sub-Committee which had already demonstrated an ill-judged sympathy towards PIE members and which was also involved in campaigning against the use of conspiracy charges on civil liberties issues.

While the NCCL Gay Rights Sub-Committee’s interest in PIE was hugely problematic, it did mean that its gay rights workers were well-informed on the civil liberties issues raised by PIE. Questions must still be asked about how to reconcile these competing explanations and whether further evidence might found to explain the DPP’s decisions on Hayman and PIE.

The contents of these documents show some of the difficulties in searching for documents about historic sex offences. We need to be aware that paper archives are always limited and partial. There are constraints on the past that they capture, and the processes which permitted their assembly and compilation frame what has been included, excluded and catalogued as part of the historical record.

Certainly much will be revealed, if files exist, can be found, and are opened. However, it seems that such official documents are unlikely to contain smoking guns outlining “cover-ups”. Now that we have an official inquiry into historic child sex offences, it is not just important that official reports and documents are properly investigated and loose-ends chased up, but that these are combined with evidence produced outside of the apparatus of the state and, most importantly, that the testimonies of survivor groups are properly evaluated.

Consideration of the abused is, of course, completely absent from the pages of PREM 19/588. If the National Archives documents fail to show the ‘establishment’ cover-up that journalists and campaigners are eager to find – a “cover up” which certain members of the NCCL felt took place – they are nonetheless demonstrative of an official attitude favouring protection over investigation, seeking to shut-down avenues of inquiry rather than open them up.

[1] Barry Prothero to The Body Politic Collective, 19 November 1980, Liberty Archives, Hull History Centre, UDCL/688/11. [2] Barry Prothero to Gerald Hannon, 10 February 1981, Liberty Archives, Hull History Centre, UDCL/688/11.

MBS ‘Desert Island’ Books

Laura Sefton

Laura Sefton

My last blog post discussed the difficulties I have when reading academic texts. These anxieties seem to have resonated with others and I’m grateful to those who have offered advice or tips on how they deal with it, alongside others who have simply said they feel the same.  Regardless of discipline, I guess we all have to grapple with literature.

Working on modern British history poses its own challenges though. The fragmentation of the field, much lamented in Working Paper 1, has ensured that we read very specific bodies of work, related only to our own field. Clearly this is necessary, but by encouraging us to work within sub-disciplines, it can be difficult to place our work in wider contexts. Collaborative working practices remain an exception rather than the norm. And whilst these standards exist we not only miss out on imaginative and creative ways of thinking through our own work, but we will fail to encapsulate the complexity and vibrancy of modern British history.

Participating in a postgraduate-led reading group is not only an important step in challenging the anxieties I have about reading, but I also hope it will become a space in which we can read wider and think bigger.  A space where we can read works outside of our own areas of research, where discussion will not be limited to what we already understand, but stimulated by what we do not know. A space where we can begin to enjoy books.

Practicalities first, we need books to read. Inspired by these History Workshop posts, we asked MBS staff to participate in a desert island type task to get our list of books started. Being an unruly lot though, we asked them to suggest titles within categories and to explain their choices if they felt it necessary.

The titles suggested are not only a great list of books to read for our reading group, but are suggestive in their own right. Many of the titles are not British history books, indicating that just as Britain did not develop in isolation; neither does the writing of its history. The influences on our work may not be tangible; the connections between texts are not always obvious.

When we write the history of modern Britain, we choose the chronological and temporal limits of our project. We must always question the reasons why we set our boundaries and recognize that the books we read play just as important a role as the sources we painstakingly research.

We must also understand the role books play in our working practices. What we read not only influences the way we conceive of our discipline, but affects the way we imagine ourselves in relation to that discipline. There are very prescriptive bodies of literature that you must engage with before you are considered, or even consider yourself, a historian with a certain methodological approach (e.g. gender, cultural, social, etc.).

This task was designed to work outside of those boundaries, to allow staff to consider the broader influences on their work. We expected titles that related very closely to their work, and the ‘most referred to’ category invited such responses, but have been pleasantly surprised by their willingness to think beyond their immediate research and engage with the wider influences on their careers and lives.

Given these answers, our reading group will be starting with Carolyn Steedman’s A Landscape for a Good Woman.

I’ve agonized over how to present these responses but have decided to simply present the answers as they were given to me, albeit edited slightly (we all know how much historians can write…)

  1. Book you have referred to most
  2. Most thought provoking book
  3. Most Controversial Book
  4. Book you wish you had written
  5. Favourite Article

Margot Finn: Response to Working Paper No. 1

For our third response, Margot Finn from UCL shares her thoughts on MBS Working Paper No.1

Margot Finn, UCL

Margot Finn, UCL

The first Working Paper of Birmingham’s Modern British Studies initiative sets out a clear and laudable agenda for thinking systematically and imaginatively about ‘modern’ British history from c. 1850.  As the authors note, trends in both academic scholarship and popular (often highly politicised) understandings of the British past make this new agenda especially timely in 2014.

What follows is not an attack on the proposed approach—which displays deep thought and many important insights into the state of modern British history today—but rather a sympathetic series of suggestions for  further thought as this new development at Birmingham gathers pace.  These suggestions fall under four rubrics, relating to 1) the categorisation of the initiative as a ‘Studies’ movement, 2) its focus on ‘democracy’, 3) its (arguably truncated) chronology and 4) its proposed interlocutors.

‘Studies’:   Conventionally, ‘Studies’ movements within the Humanities and Social Sciences are marked by their interdisciplinary formation and remit.  Thus Area Studies, Cultural Studies, Eighteenth-Century Studies, Romantic Studies and Victorian Studies are all nominally (if often, in practice, unequally) conceived as operating across, between or among one or more disciplinary specialisms.

To what extent is this true for Modern British Studies at Birmingham?  Where ‘Studies’ gestures toward the interdisciplinary, the text of Working Paper No. 1 repeatedly proclaims the initiative’s historicity.  Thus the agenda focuses on ‘Historical mindedness’ ‘for us as historians’ who ‘will integrate history within the university with those flourishing historical communities without’ (p. 2).  What is the analytical (or rhetorical) value of ‘Studies’ as opposed to ‘History’ in this context?  Because this question is not posed explicitly in the Working Paper, its answer (p. 7) is unclear.

My point here is not about semantic distinctions, but rather about substantive methodological, analytical and historiographical choices.  Choosing to focus on History as a bounded discipline opens up selected lines of interpretation, and closes down others.  So too of course, a decision to approach Modern British Studies from an interdisciplinary perspective would privilege some analytical pathways to the detriment of others.

What is needed here is not necessarily a commitment to interdisciplinary inquiry, but rather clarity as to which disciplinary, interdisciplinary or cross-disciplinary decisions have been made, and why.  To give but one example, literature and visual culture both loom large in other historically-minded ‘Studies’ movements (notably Romantic and Victorian Studies), but receive short shrift in Working Paper No. 1.  Where does George Elliot, surely among the most ‘historically minded’ Victorian, or her Felix Holt, the Radical (1866), surely one of the richest Victorian literary expositions of the emergence of democratic cultures, fit within the Birmingham agenda?  Which analytical toolkits will be deployed, and which rejected, to what benefit and what cost?[1]

‘Democracy’: Democracy and democratic cultures are to form the matrix for Modern British Studies at Birmingham.  Yet the Working Paper is coy in places about what falls within (and, perhaps more significantly, without) this category of analysis.  The absence of specific references to liberalism in the document is, at one level, refreshing: insistent emphasis on the liberal subject has arguably begun to obscure more than it reveals in modern British historiography: now used to describe the market, the polity, the individual and the empire, ‘liberal’ has begun to lose its historiographical edge.

By the same token, however, by declining to address liberalism’s relation to democracy head-on, Working Paper No. 1. runs the risk of missing opportunities to grapple with key works within the secondary literature.  Where does the initiative position itself with regard to Uday Singh Mehta’s Liberalism and Empire (1999), Dipesh Chakrabarty’s Provincializing Europe (2000) and Chris Bayly’s Recovering Liberties (2012), for example?

‘Democracy’ too requires more definition.  Does the term encompass increases in literacy, in consumer choice, in mobility, or refer only or chiefly to the franchise?  If the former, are these forces equally ‘democratic’, or democratic in the same or different ways?  If the latter, how ‘democratic’ really was (and is) modern Britain?

Choosing democracy propels us down specific analytical pathways, pathways that modern voters—by choosing not to vote or to vote selectively or differentially in contexts that range from Strictly and X-Factor to Scottish referendums, trade union ballots, Parliamentary elections and Facebook—have  increasingly distanced from the teleological narratives of democracy crafted and comprehended by the Victorians.

Chronology: A focus on democracy also draws attention to the abridged chronology selected for the Birmingham initiative.  Why choose 1850 as a starting point, especially given the decision to focus on modern democratic cultures?  What has happened to the long 18th century and its contribution to experiences and narratives of modernity?  Forged in and exemplified by responses to political revolution in the Atlantic World, pan-imperial abolitionist movements and Enlightenment salons, 18th-century democratic cultures were surely an integral part of the birth of the modern in Britain, as Birmingham city’s complex reticulation of canals, its historic Jewellery Quarter and its Lunar men amply attest.

At the other end of modernity, postmodernity perhaps also merits consideration.  Latour (1991) suggested that we have never been modern; if instead Britain has been modern ever since 1850, perhaps by 2014, its modernity has stopped? These questions of chronology are important in themselves, but they also raise important questions of comparison.  If we begin at 1850, Britain’s modernity can be compared to that of Europe and North America, for example, but it forms a sharp contrast to India’s un-modernity.  A starting point of 1750 (as Prasannan Parthasarathi’s research would suggest) instead yields points of both contrast and meaningful comparison.

Interlocutors: My final set of queries flows from this comparative point.  The Working Paper’s outline of its interlocutors ‘Beyond Birmingham’ adduces academic collaborators who will participate in ‘reciprocal intellectual exchange’ from universities based in ‘comparable centres’ in Canada and the US.  ‘Comparable’, one might ask, to whom and to what?  To Anglo-American academics?

‘Comparable’ to modern Britain today is surely a term that also encompasses the African, Asian and Pacific Worlds as well as a global army of ‘amateur’ local and family historians researching their ancestry in myriad ‘democratic’ ways. These constituencies deserve to be fully integrated into the Birmingham initiative, as active agents in its programmes rather than as objects of its scrutiny alone.  Widening the community of modern Britain was a key aspiration of some of modern Britain’s democratic cultures.

Without wishing to be a curmudgeon, and whilst wishing this timely, important and refreshing initiative a bon voyage, I suggest here that Birmingham’s Modern British Studies will be most successful if it widens even further its ambitious intellectual remit.

[1] The extent to which History and Literature elide in ‘popular’ understandings of modern British history forms a sharp contrast with the Working Paper’s relative silence on this topic.  Significantly, self-declared passionate lovers and practitioners of modern British history Michael Gove and Jeremy Paxman both read English at Oxford and Cambridge.

Deborah Cohen: Response to Working Paper No. 1

For our second response, we asked Deborah Cohen from Northwestern University to share her thoughts on MBS Working Paper No. 1.

Deborah Cohen, Northwestern University

Deborah Cohen, Northwestern University

I see a great many advantages to the research agenda Modern British Studies at Birmingham is setting out in its first Working Paper, have a few suggestions about how that agenda might be further sharpened, and want to offer one main reservation.

Let me start with the reservation.  On the whole, I think that the heterogeneity of the modern British field has been a good thing, not a weakness.  The fact that the field has entertained a wide variety of approaches and subjects has inevitably resulted in some fragmentation, which I’d define as a proliferation of work not always in conversation when it ought to be.  But it has also meant that the modern British field has been very dynamic, open to new sorts of questions and methodologically catholic.

The historiographic action has been fairly well balanced between the nineteenth and twentieth centuries, a marked contrast with both the Russian and the German fields. The fact that there hasn’t been a rank-ordered set of questions propelling the modern British field – indeed, that there hasn’t been a consensus about what counted as the important questions – has helped to encourage experimentation, and thus to nurture fresh research.  For me, as a new PhD nearly twenty years ago, trained both in German and in British history, it was this quality of the modern British field that most appealed to me, and is something I continue to appreciate.

Creating overarching interpretative frameworks is of course an important exercise, and their lack for twentieth-century Britain by contrast to the plethora for the nineteenth century (most recently, James Belich’s Replenishing the Earth) has been much commented upon.  I take the ‘cultures of democracy’ initiative, then, not as an exclusive research agenda, but rather, as a project intended to spark and concentrate debate, even to encourage competing explanatory schemas.

I emphasize this last point not just because I think narrowing Birmingham’s interpretative horizons even to such a capacious subject as ‘cultures of democracy’ would be a loss.  As a strategy for postgraduate training, too, I would be concerned about organizing themes that short-circuit what seems to me a key requirement for graduate students:  figuring out how their own arguments contribute to larger intellectual debates both inside and outside the national field.

Now, that said, a few impressions about ‘cultures of democracy’ as a project.  As sketched out in the first working paper, ‘cultures of democracy’ as a focus should help to bridge whatever boundaries still remain between cultural, social, political, economic and intellectual historians, distinctions that have, to my mind, largely eroded in the practice (if not in self-identification) over the last twenty years.

The project’s attention to hierarchies of value and its plan to span the conceptual divide between the Victorians and the moderns will both prove very useful.  The focus on the ordinary and the individual in the Birmingham working paper is appealing, not least because it fits with the zeitgeist, as the success this summer of both Karl Ove Knausgaard’s My Struggle and Richard Linklater’s Boyhood demonstrate, and thus offers an excellent avenue for public engagement.   And the larger question that frames this focus – ‘How were the private realms of personhood and public worlds of politics and social interaction related?’ (p. 5) – opens up rich and still relatively unmined territory.

Two further thoughts, then, as the project develops:

1. Targeted national comparisons

Since so many of the questions that the Working Paper asks about Britain’s cultures of democracy – about the position of the individual in emergent mass democracies and cultures, about globalization and shifting patterns of rule – are inherently comparative subjects, I’d underscore the call on p. 4 to “consider both the exceptionalism and commonalities of modern Britain.”

Attention to Britain’s imperial history and to transnational exchange are key, but so, too, will be broad reading in the Americanist and Continental Europeanist secondary literatures, if not outright comparative research.

To what extent, for instance, does Ross McKibbin’s formulation about late nineteenth- and early twentieth-century Britain (‘a high degree of social cohesion but not social integration’) still hold and if so, how does it distinguish Britain from the United States, France or Germany?

What about the ‘recurrence of conservative pluralism over three centuries’ that David Feldman has identified as a British strategy for managing ethnic and religious minorities and immigrants?

Comparison is no panacea, but it is an efficient way of locating starting-points and sharpening one’s interpretative frameworks as the work proceeds.  Some of the analytical spade-work of ‘cultures of democracy’, I imagine, will be figuring out the British manifestations of phenomena that made roughly contemporaneous appearances across the industrialized world.

2. Generalizing from the individual

Working Paper No. 1 poses a stimulating set of questions about the ways that the private realms of personhood translated (or didn’t) into the public worlds of politics and social interaction.

This focus has the potential to upend (among other things) how we explain the relationship between policy-making and the private realms of individuals and families, indicating that our answers thus far have sometimes reflected what is readily visible – and thus easier to study – rather than cause-and-effect.

Still, figuring out the cumulative consequences of actions that appear, at least at first, stubbornly individual is a difficult task.  The standard of proof is elusive.  How many individual accounts do we need in order to discern ‘how everyday actions…create new subjectivities as well as new forms of social action’?

Do histories that start with the individual and move to the social necessarily require more inference than the other way around?  Charting the often quiet revolutions in attitudes and expectations that happen on democracy’s ground floor is going to be a big undertaking, but one well worth pursuing.  I look forward to working with the Modern British Studies group as the project moves forward.

 

Antoinette Burton: Critical Histories of the Present – A Response to Working Paper No. 1

In this week’s blog, Antoinette Burton responds to Working Paper No. 1 in the first of a series of responses. We welcome your comments below.

Antoinette Burton University of Illinois, Urbana Champaign USA

Antoinette Burton
University of Illinois, Urbana Champaign USA

I’m delighted to be asked to engage with the calls for new kinds of thinking about British history in the Birmingham Working Paper (heretofore BWP).  Significantly, I was approached to do so while attending the recent “History after Hobsbawm” conference held at Senate House in spring 2014. Like the BWP, the Hobsbawm event sought to refresh longstanding conversations – in that case, by pivoting questions about historical practice and narrative on the life and work of one very influential historian in the wake of his death.

This is arguably a moment of stock-taking more generally in the profession, which has been buffeted on both sides of the Atlantic by the variety of crises – political, social, economic, intellectual and cultural – generated by the global fiscal catastrophe of 2008.

Six years on, we are still reeling from the shock to a variety of systems set in motion by the threat of total collapse of banks, the slump in housing markets and the downturn in stock markets from New York to Tokyo. Governments have failed, the working class and working poor have been devastated, and steady unemployment has stagnated an already struggling middle class. These events were dominos set in motion, of course, by the history of postwar financial capital and the cultures of risk and depredation they entailed.

Higher education in the US and the UK has been seriously impacted, from the ground up: the rising cost of undergraduate education and consequent student debt together with the ongoing challenge to the value of a traditional degree raise serious questions about the viability of the current academic model, and of history itself as a vocation and a field of study in a STEM marketplace.

The present has always exerted pressure on those who think, teach and write about the past. But those pressures are now more globally apparent, and never more so in the context of the practices of “national” history. These are the contexts in which the BWP asks us to rethink the objects and methods of history and to reconsider the kinds of historical narratives we need to make sense of the modern British past.

The BWP identifies a number of salient problems:

1) The persistence, even now, of a presumptively whig political narrative – which privileges narratives of elite conciliation and containment on the road toward democracy as against struggle, contest, and fitful pathways in and out of democratic practice;

2) The limits of the project of provincializing Britain – which began with challenges to the home-away vector and are now taken up by work that invokes the global;

3) The failure of race, class and gender histories, whether singularly or through intersectional analyses, to produce anything other than fragmented accounts that supplement rather than challenge grand narratives;

4) The need for “persuasive,” readable, accessible narrative histories that can offer alternatives to traditional models and reach a broader public than just academics;

5) The urgency of making democratic cultures a flexible, capacious center of intellectual debates and struggles over what British history is and could/should be in the first quarter of the 21st century.

Each of these claims has merit, and each one would produce very interesting discussions among the broad field of modern British history practitioners were there to be an open debate beyond those of us responding to the BWP.

Some would agree with the diagnoses; others would be critical of some of these premises; and still others would challenge the very slice of “British history” selected for examination (how do inherited periodizations undergird our narratives? When does “the modern” begin?).

In my view, the problem is less the problems per se than that that we simply don’t argue over anything, really, anymore. As I wrote in my paper for the Hobsbawm conference, in the context of a broader discussion of the impact on the so-called new imperial history on contemporary forms of practice: beyond some whinge-ing in quiet corners of the senior common room and in a few isolated book reviews, there has been no significant, purposeful stage for arguing about what some see as the incommensurabilities of old and new imperial histories.

Susan Pederson recently regretted in the pages of the London Review of Books that we don’t have the good old clanging matches we used to have over class and the new social history, and that that’s a bad thing. I share her regret about the absence of real debate on the big questions that animate – mainly by skulking on — the seabeds of the field. And this is not because I am necessarily spoiling for a fight, but because there are questions – many of them raised by the BWP – that are surely worth fighting over.

If there is fault to be had here, part of it lies with those of us who have eschewed grand narrative and/or – content to work in our own particular patch — have ceded the floor to those willing to take it up, often in the kind of blockbuster form that “the public” tends to read. But there is also responsibility on the part of those writing the big books to keep up with what’s happening in the field as a whole.

In empire history, for example, it’s quite clear that Niall Ferguson hasn’t read a page of what’s been written by cultural or postcolonial historians in the field in the last twenty years; nor has John Darwin for that matter. They are certainly within their rights to disagree vehemently with it. But by now it surely has enough of an accumulated density to warrant genuine engagement, if not the status of legitimacy as well.

As a result of these occlusions, grand narratives of British imperial power remain not just incomplete but distorted; they suffer from false claims not just of totality but of explanation and causality and scale; they cannot actually track cause and effect or historical consequence without the full range of subject matter and methodological approach that a combination of old and new approaches make available.

And this limit has its impact on gender and cultural history as well, for without real engagement with that work we will never right-size, say, the role of women and gender in the imperial experience; we will scarcely be able to appreciate why sexuality acted as a break on imperial power, when it did, or to accurately assess the nature and character of white male and middle class domination in the psychic life of empires.

We might say the same of British history as a whole (regardless of how we feel about the proportional role of empire in it). If British history is a kind of social practice, it’s also an ethnography of certain forms of social practice, and of their cultures and politics as well. As we head toward a vision of the field that the BWP calls for, I hope we can seriously, respectfully argue over the very premises upon which it is based.

I could imagine, for example, a ground-clearing workshop organized around each of the problems it has identified, with lively and yes, fractious debates not just about the veracity the claims, but over why and how such problems have emerged out of the history of the last several decades – since, say, The Making of the English Working Class or Davidoff and Hall’s Family Fortunes or Peter Fryer’s Staying Power or James Vernon’s Re-reading the Constitution, or Cain and Hopkins’ “gentlemanly capitalism” work or any number of key books or articles that laid down stakes in the ground at the time.  And in keeping with the BWP’s awareness of the power of “dead ends,” we could also explore and even revive roads not taken.

In any case, it seems to me that we don’t understand enough about the intellectual, political, cultural and economic history – and historiography — of the extended historical moment we are seeking, understandably, to break with, and that grappling with that history might be a good way to start.

Working Paper No.1

Modern British Studies at Birmingham Working Paper No. 1

February 2014

Clock Tower

This is the first working paper written by Modern British Studies at Birmingham. You can read it below or download it as a PDF document here.

A. Our challenge

Modern British Studies at Birmingham aims to provide new ways of thinking about the transformation of British society, culture, politics and economy from the mid-nineteenth century to the present. Challenging what we see as the problematic disciplinary, analytic and theoretical fragmentation of the field, we seek to offer new interpretive frameworks around which to structure further research, shape undergraduate and postgraduate teaching, and encourage new forms of public engagement.

Modern British Studies at Birmingham focuses on ‘cultures of democracy’. By this, we seek to understand the position of the individual in the age of an emerging mass democracy and mass culture. From the early nineteenth century onwards, new political and cultural forms transformed the nature of political and social life. Yet these changes took place in the context of persistent and deep-rooted inequalities of class, gender, race and ethnicity, sexuality, age, and religion. Our aim is to understand the diverse and hierarchical patterns of democratic participation in modern Britain. We do not wish to suggest a linear narrative of democratic progress, nor privilege histories of political engagement or offer an analysis organised around overly reductive binaries of inclusion and exclusion within society, culture, and politics. Instead we foreground the more fluid, contested forms of societal, cultural, political and economic life which shaped, and were shaped by, a new mass democracy and mass culture. Class, race, and gender remain important categories of difference in our analysis, but we emphasise the multiple and historically specific ways in which they intersected, and the alternative sets of values—the sense of being valued—that shaped everyday life in modern Britain. Exploring changing forms of self and subjectivity in the context of an emerging mass democracy and culture, we seek to understand the hierarchies of value that shaped participation in cultures of democracy in modern Britain.

Developing these ideas under the rubric of modern British studies is a deliberate decision. Echoing the transformation of the field in North America, it reflects our understanding of Britain not in isolation nor as an Imperial centre, but as a nodal point in dynamic systems of transnational and global exchange. Rather than isolate established periods and chronologies, it seeks to mark out a field of enquiry that encompasses the period in its totality. In thinking of our work under the rubric ‘studies’ we seek to enable an ongoing intellectual exchange between fields of analysis and disciplines that have too often been treated as discrete.

Our focus on cultures of democracy is an intellectual challenge that we hope will stimulate further academic debate. Our agenda is as much outward facing as it is intellectual, however. Modern British Studies at Birmingham will place this framework at the core of a new MA in Modern British Studies; it will form an organising theme for consolidating and developing our dynamic postgraduate community. Establishing links with community organisations, cultural industries and activists outside the academy, it will also seek to stimulate forms of public engagement and practices that encourage the forms of interaction we see as representative of rich and powerful strands of modern democratic citizenship and culture. The idea of cultures of democracy captures both the subject of our analysis and the forms of public participation and engagement we hope to mobilise in our efforts to gain knowledge of the past.

B. The context

In seeking to establish new ways of thinking about modern Britain we are acutely aware of the significance of the past in contemporary society and politics. Historical mindedness has been identified as a distinctively modern mode for comprehending and reshaping both subjectivity and citizenship. This was as true of the 1820s (when debates over ancient Greek polities were used to invent modern definitions of ‘democracy’) as it is of today’s ferocious arguments over the meaning and memory of the Great War. In line with understandings of ‘social memory’, this makes the study of the uses of history over time a field with profound implications for understanding how citizens and policy-makers have narrated themselves, and how the British past continues to contribute to national life. In the light of proposed educational and curriculum reforms history teaching continues to be a matter of political controversy; what has been called the decade of centenaries is bringing historical questions into public life with increased vigour. The traditional narration of a ‘national story’ which has been emphasised in recent discussions about both a new history curriculum and the Great War, makes the need for academic questions and challenges ever more apparent. There is now an appetite for serious debate of the role of history in national life, precisely because these educational crises have impressed the importance of the question on policy makers and public alike.

As multiple constituencies grapple with the need for national narratives, it becomes more important for us as historians to engage with such projects whenever possible. This task is made more pressing as the popular history of modern Britain is dominated by a growing number of entertaining, evocative, yet deeply problematic accounts of social, cultural and political change. The high profile interventions of Andrew Marr, Juliet Gardiner, David Kynaston and Dominic Sandbrook and A.N. Wilson are valuable in stimulating public interest in the study of the past, but neglect as much as they include and do little to provide an overarching interpretative framework through which to understand the transformation of modern Britain. Everything we do must take place in a way that encourages constructive interaction between public history and the academy: local history groups and public history organisations are growing in number and support, offering stimulating new visions of the past and its role in public life. Modern British Studies at Birmingham will integrate history within the university with those flourishing historical communities without.

The difficulties of identifying organising narratives for understanding modern Britain are not just a problem for politicians, policy-makers and the public. Indeed, these struggles reflect the state of the academic field. Histories of modern Britain are marked by such a degree of fragmentation that the different sub-disciplines of political, economic, social and cultural history are not sufficiently in conversation with one another. This problem is more acute for the late-twentieth century than any other period. Important works in the new cultural history have broken fresh ground in the sophistication of their theoretical and analytical frameworks, yet the intellectual pay off of such practices is increasingly difficult to identify. Compared with the engaged social history of earlier periods, such work betrays a lack of confidence and struggles to translate specific case studies into broader interpretative frameworks. In showing the links between culture and politics, and focussing on forms of governance, a ‘new political history’ has rejuvenated its field. Yet increasingly the results are highly descriptive, rather than analytic. Even work drawing on Foucault’s ideas of techno-politics and governmentality has often generated accounts of institutions and professions that echo older histories of the state rather than challenging them. Economic history remains relatively vibrant in its own terms, but it is increasingly isolated from broader debates in British studies so that it now rarely contributes to general historical questions. Frequently the history of science and medicine and mainstream history are institutionally and intellectually separated and dominated by discussions about the sociology of knowledge where key concepts such as agency are found everywhere yet nowhere sufficiently conceptualized. While the recurrent intellectual ‘turns’ taken in the past decades (imperial, material, spatial) might seem to have revitalised the discipline, they reflect a nagging sense of crisis and a deliberate search for a solution to the perceived problems of history. We might identify the empire and the material in all locations, but if our histories are to be engaged with the present, it is not always so clear why we went looking for them in the first place.

Above all, in the absence of conversations across fields and sub-disciplines, work that is excellent in its own theoretical, methodological, and historiographical terms is often unable to contribute to our understanding of the broader processes that reshaped modern Britain. The publication of Geoff Eley’s A Crooked Line and William Sewell’s Logics of History in 2005 suggested that a rapprochement between social and cultural history was tangible and fruitful, and promised empirically grounded and theoretically informed histories that moved on from the divisions of the 1990s. However, how far have we come since these reflections on the state of the discipline? Increasingly it seems this intellectual promise has not been realised. Responses to the 50th anniversary of E.P. Thompson’s The Making of the English Working Class suggest continuing anxiety about the decline of social history. Those concerned with the loss of history from below as a subject rather than a method of inquiry nonetheless struggle to articulate where we night go in the future.

Historiographical fragmentation marks contemporary scholarship of all periods and geographical locations, but the problem is particularly acute in histories of Britain since the mid-twentieth century. Here older and triumphant narratives of democratisation and welfarism, and more pessimistic studies of economic and Imperial decline, have been displaced, but left little in their wake. The narrow conceptualisation of contemporary history around issues of politics and policy-making, and the development of work on society and culture within adjacent disciplines including sociology, cultural studies and geography has produced a radical divergence between fields and disciplines until relatively recently. Modern and especially contemporary British history lacks both the shared interpretative reference points of other periods and a clear sense of periodisation or synthesis. Comparing works on twentieth century Britain with those produced by Catherine Hall or Linda Colley which cover the early nineteenth century, the lack of key works of reference for undergraduate and postgraduate students is striking. This trajectory further contrasts with works informed by the New Global History or accounts outlining the history of Europe that seek to offer provocative, if not always convincing, interpretative frameworks.

C. Cultures of democracy

Modern British Studies at Birmingham argues that the period from the mid-nineteenth century to the present should be understood through the position of the individual and the changing nature of selfhood, in a period in which Britain became a mass democracy and mass culture. The transformation of selfhood and subjectivity took shape in the context of three key changes:

a)      The uneven and often hesitant development of new forms of mass democracy, mass culture and an uneven transition to mass affluence. Rather than treating mass democracy as a straightforwardly political project, we understand it in its broader social, economic and cultural contexts. Enfranchisement and disenfranchisement extended beyond the ballot boxes, playing out as questions over who could and could not participate in diverse forms of everyday life, and the different and unequal modes and speeds of participation in social, cultural, economic and political life. These created levels of participation between more reductive binaries of inclusion and exclusion that must be examined. Such shifts created new opportunities for living and enabled (and constrained) new interests, social connections and subjectivities.

b)      Globalisation and the transformation of Britain’s position in the world. Rather than privileging the idea of Britain as an Imperial metropolis and transnational actor, we treat it as a nodal point in a broader global history. This means recognising the exchange of knowledge, goods and people across national borders, the interchange between the local and the global in a shrinking world, and the complex and fluid structures of global power in which those exchanges took shape. In emphasising this shift we seek to consider both the exceptionalism and commonalities of modern Britain, exploring the national varieties of what Christopher Bayly termed the ‘uniformities’ of a globalising world.

c)      Shifting patterns of rule. We acknowledge the importance in understanding the extension of governance from the formal institutions of the state to the techniques of control located within the professions. But these changes were not just to do with the evolution of techno-politics in a mass democracy; they were also about shifting forms of self-governance, developments in the organisation of the state, the emergence of new forms of professional expertise and their resonance in the everyday.

‘Cultures of democracy’ offers a focal point that enables us to understand the convergence of broader processes of social, economic, political and cultural change. It raises pressing questions about patterns of inclusion and exclusion, but also about the complex nature of participation across different forms of everyday social, cultural and political life, elucidating the ways in which individuals could be simultaneously enfranchised and disenfranchised. Thinking about cultures of democracy allows us to move beyond the problematic focus on questions of identity and representation for which the new cultural history has been criticised. Instead of treating selfhood as something that is fixed, rooted in identity, and can unproblematically explain our interactions with the world, it draws attention to the ways in which identity is always in the process of becoming – an ‘ever-unfinished conversation’ as Stuart Hall puts it – shaped by interactions with social relations, cultural forms, and material constraints on a local, national and global scale. It allows us to understand how representations are rooted in and constitutive of social and economic structures.

The idea of cultures of democracy also allows us to see the importance of the ordinary as a subject of historical analysis. Foregrounding that idea, rather than processes of democratisation and modernisation, Modern British Studies at Birmingham seeks to capture the pluralistic and inchoate messiness of ordinary life and historical change. We do not focus just on those aspects of the everyday that serve our predetermined beliefs about agency and action. Nor do we seek to examine the ordinary to see the extraordinary; or the banal to see the spectacular. Sometimes we look to the ordinary and the banal to see the ordinary and the banal, and they are no less interesting for that. Indeed, the iterative and the mundane are often more powerful in the formulation and normalizing of identity and ideology as the spectacular or exceptional. As well as tracing the historical formation of British modernities, we recognise the dead ends of historical processes that do not lead to new social formations, political structures or cultural forms as symptomatic of a particular time and place.

The interpretative framework of cultures of democracy can be developed through a close analysis of the changing nature of the public sphere and the shifting hierarchies of value that shaped social, cultural and political participation in modern Britain. We are interested in the changing technologies, discourses and rules associated with the development of the public spheres in an emerging mass democracy and the forms of interaction that took place within these and across them. How were the private realms of personhood and public worlds of politics and social interaction related?[1] Thinking about cultures of democracy opens up new ways of understanding the languages of inclusion and exclusion, how these were negotiated and experienced, and the ways in which the public sphere could change and adapt. Our analysis explores the public spheres within which an emerging mass democracy and culture were negotiated as individuals and groups learned how to navigate its contours and work within (and gradually transform) its rules.[2]

This approach allows us to understand how private and public, personal and political, cultural and social interact with one another. Constantly in the process of becoming, subjectivities are articulated not just as atomised or individual, but in relation to broader patterns of historical change: selfhood is both public and personal, and mass affluence and mass democracy open up new possibilities for seeing and being in the world. Diverse forms of democratic participation are rooted in those everyday rhythms of life that are reshaped by the processes of massification, globalisation and governance outlined above. Rather than focus on the unproblematic category of ‘experience’, this analysis foregrounds how everyday actions bring individuals into conversation with the world around them and create new subjectivities as well as new forms of social action and interaction through work, family, voluntary associations or politics. In so doing we acknowledge the importance of representation, not just as a way of understanding how, who or what is rendered visible (or invisible) but in order to understand how representations of peoples and values are made and what effects these have.

Our interest in the patterns of participation in cultures of democracy is reflected in our attention to historically situated hierarchies of value—the contested ideas of what was valued and valuable that shaped participation in everyday life. Class, gender and race have all proved to be fertile ground for understanding the inflections of power within local, national, international and imperial histories of Britain and the wider world. Nonetheless, by focusing on these analytical categories, whether exclusively or in terms of their complex interplay, there has been an implicit privileging of their role to the detriment of other factors, such as economics or religious values. In contrast, historicising ‘hierarchies of value’ offers ways to incorporate a greater diversity of analytical categories into explorations of selfhood and broader political and social change. Thus, alongside the familiar triad of class, race and gender we will also foreground sexuality, age, place, religion, economics, rights and subjectivity while remaining alert to the emergence of new categories and the interactions between these values. By encompassing the full spectrum of individual experiences and the broader material, intellectual and political foundations for forms of inclusion and exclusion (as well as the intercises between these binaries), we simultaneously seek to explore how individuals have witnessed historical change alongside an understanding of how such experiences have contributed to, and been shaped by, broader patterns and structures of social, political and cultural organisation. Ultimately, exploring hierarchies of value presents opportunities to remain intellectually inclusive, avoid privileging historic and contemporary historiographical concerns and create conversations that cut across regional, temporal and disciplinary boundaries both within and beyond Modern British Studies.

In setting this out we are taking a long period of history – encompassing the majority of two centuries – as a single historical conjuncture. However sophisticated and nuanced our interpretation might be of how this conjuncture came about and what it looks like, and however rich our stories become through treating it as a subject and understanding it in its entirety without imposing any over-determined narrative upon it, it still begs the question as to how change takes place and how we might further sub-divide the period according to a particular chronology. Re-narrativising and drawing up new chronological markers will inevitably go hand in hand in any project of Modern British Studies.

D. British pasts for new times

Modern British Studies at Birmingham seeks to develop new ways of thinking through the British past that are—and always will be—outward looking, inclusive and collaborative.  As well as reinvigorating an academic field, we wish to stimulate and draw upon new voices and interpretations and, in so doing, provide fresh opportunities for rethinking modern British history. Our ambitions also reflect our own location within the global city of Birmingham and our interest in the intellectual traditions of the University of Birmingham, both of which provide inspiration for our efforts.

This is how we will meet our objectives:

(i) Community engagement: Just as cultures of democracy draws attention to the changing opportunities for individuals to engage with the public world, so we will enable new forms of public engagement and democratic participation through an ongoing programme called Witnessing Britain. Rather than provide another platform for social and political elites, these events will enable conversations about the everyday experiences of social, cultural, political and economic change that have defined modern Britain.

(ii) Teaching: The intellectual framework outlined here will provide the focus for our new MA in Modern British Studies and, in particular, our two core courses on Themes in Modern British Studies and Sites and Sources of Modern Britain Studies.

(iii) Research: The critical mass of scholars working on Modern Britain at Birmingham will continue to pursue their own interests, but these will be situated in broader conversations and help to inform a shared intellectual project that makes us more than our individual parts. We will encourage and provide sites for research seeking to move beyond the fragmentation of the field whether by academic staff or a postgraduate community.

(iv) Interdisciplinarity: Modern British Studies does not pretend to have the status of a disciplinary formation but is intended as a field of enquiry that can enable an ongoing conversation with colleagues working across fields and disciplines.

(iv) Beyond Birmingham: We will establish active links with scholars working in modern British studies in other institutions, in particular those associated with comparable centres in north American including Northwestern University; Rutgers, the State University of New Jersey; the University of California, Berkeley; and York University, Toronto. These links will extend to providing opportunities for reciprocal intellectual exchange and visiting fellowships for faculty, postdoctoral researchers and doctoral researchers.

(vi) Working papers in Modern British Studies: Rather than formulating a static agenda, we are committed to continual reflection on our intellectual work, pedagogy and public engagement. To sustain this we will publish regular collaborative Working Papers on Modern British Studies that are accessible to anyone interested in the field. This is the first of these papers.


[1] Rather than imagining an ideal public from which we have fallen – our analysis develops out of the varied critiques of a Habermasian public sphere. We take on board those observers who have discussed gendered and class-based assumptions of Harbermas’ public sphere along with its restrictive and normative functions.

[2] Here were follow Bourdieu’s conceptualisation of ‘habitus’ as a way of thinking about individuals’ relationships with the public sphere.