John Jeffries Martin, A Beautiful Ending: The Apocalyptic Imagination and the Making of the Modern World 2022)

Jonathan I. Israel, The Dutch Republic: Its Rise, Greatness, and Fall, 1477-1806 (1995)

Despite having studied European history for many, many years, I knew embarrassingly little about the Dutch Republic in the early modern period. I had a vague sense that it had developed in parallel with early modern England in many respects: as constitutional polity, highly commercialized economy, global trading and colonial power, and pioneer of religious toleration. In many of these respects, I thought it was somehow even more advanced than its cross-Channel neighbor. And I knew that William and Mary of Holland had become king and queen during the English Glorious Revolution of 1688-9. But while I knew a fair amount about 17th century England leading up to 1688, I really had no idea of the backstory to the Dutch Republic's modernity. I didn't know, for example, why what I took to be the Dutch monarch was called the Stadholder. With these motivations, and after having appreciated Israel's book on Dutch trade (Dutch Primacy in World Trade), I turned to this highly praised book. I can't claim that I read every single one of its 1130 pages, but I read most of the pages on the nation's rise and greatness. I knew from the previous book of Israel's that I had read that he rejected purely materialist accounts of historical change (a la Braudel or Marx). Nonetheless, he acknowledges the importance of these underlying conditions and begins his account with some fundamental distinctions between the Low Countries north and south of the rivers (Rhine and Maas) that became pronounced during the 14th century. To the north, there was one large historical state (Holland), in which there was a wide urbanization. In the south, there were two states (Brabant and Flanders), in both of which a few larger cities predominated. My main interest was in the political evolution of the Dutch Republic. It's a bewilderingly complex tale, involving partly self-governing, increasingly commercial cities; regions (Holland) embedded in larger entities (once the revolt against Spain starts, the Union of Utrecht, 1579; the Holy Roman Empire); dynastic holdings (Burgundian, Habsburger); religious tensions (between Catholicism and Reformed Churches, later between different tendences within the Reformed, and also a smattering of Lutherans and Mennonites), etc. The Stadholder or Stadholders were counts or governors of, to begin with, the dynasties and, later, independent governors of regions (Holland, Friesland, etc.) Often several of the regions had the same Stadholder. For much of the period the Stadholders were from the House of Orange, whose ancestral seat was in southern France (talk about confusing!). A second powerful position, sometimes working in concert with the Stadholders, but also at times in opposition, were Advocates or Pensioneers of the single largest state in the north, Holland. Throughout the period, but especially once the Dutch Revolt against Habsburg Spain starts (1572), great power politics is a constant concern - the Dutch against or with Spain, France, England, various principalities along the Rhine, etc. The basic story of how the Dutch established themselves as a republic fits with Mancur Olson's argument: a contest for domination ended in stalemate and, ultimately, compromise. The two parties were the Orangists (Stadholder - who at times became somewhat monarchical, but also at times enjoyed more popular support) and states party (Advocates/Pensioneers of Holland). The contest started earlier than in England (late 16th century), but compromise was only achieved at roughly the same time (1680s). Two tidbits that illustrate the efficacy and modernity of this society: in 1670, Amsterdam was the first city in the world to introduce public street lights. And the 1688 invasion of England, involving 20,000 troops and 500 ships, was the most impressive logistical feat of any early modern state. I'm deeply impressed by Israel's mastery of such a complex story. Nonetheless, his "seamless" telling of this story is grist for the mill of my argument that historians need more social science discipline (an argument I hope to make and publish down the road).

Alexandre Popovic, The Revolt of African Slaves in Iraq in the 3rd/9th Century (1976/1998)

The reason I read this is that it is, apparently, the best account of the Zanj Rebellion, the massive, 14-year long uprising of African slaves in ninth century Iraq. These slaves may have worked on plantations, even on sugar-growing plantations. So, ultimately, my interest was to learn more about the development of the "plantation complex," which of course would play such a big role in the colonization of the Americas. This book is considered important - it was published by an imprint of Princeton University Press; Henry Louis Gates wrote an introduction to the English translation; on the back cover, David Brion Davis, the eminent historian of slavery, blurbs it as "an extremely important book." Yet the book is also quite underwhelming. This is no reflection on the author. An immigrant to France from Tito's Jugoslavia, Popovic began work on the project in 1957, and after eight years completed his research. The French edition came out in 1976. My hunch is that simply collecting the relatively sparse evidence on the Rebellion was a painstaking task in and of itself. The work is underwhelming because it amounts largely to a literal blow-by-blow account of the long rebellion. There is very little analysis here, which the author acknowledges. The whole text amounts to fewer than 160 pages, including footnotes. The closest Popovic comes to addressing the question that most interests me - about the nature of the slavery - is when he discusses the conditions in southern Iraq, especially around Basra. There was lots of unclaimed "dead land" - which farmers had abandoned to move to the cities, and which has become covered in a layer of salt. The government offered incentives to whomever was willing to reclaim the dead land and put it to use. Basra was the center of capital looking for opportunities and a major slave market. So, while Popovic uses the term "plantations" only once, all of the ingredients seemed to be in place for plantation-style slavery. Sugarcane, I believe, had already made its way from India, where it was domesticated, to the Fertile Crescent. Popovic suggests, albeit only in passing, that the Zanj Rebellion may have put an end to the development of plantations in the Abbasid world. Only when European crusaders appeared on the scene would the plantation complex be revived and begin its fateful movement across the Mediterranean, onto the Atlantic islands (Canaries, Sao Thome), and then into the New World.

Harvey Mansfield, The Rise and Fall of Rational Control: The History of Modern Political Philosophy (2025)

This was a challenging book to read, and now to write about. Mansfield gives a very close reading to eight thinkers of what he calls "rational control:" Machiavelli, who initiated modern political theory; Hobbes; Locke; Rousseau; Kant; Hegel; Marx; and Nietzsche. I often found myself struggling to follow Mansfield's interpretations. Partly, perhaps, this was because I simply knew much less about most of these thinkers than I had assumed. Partly, perhaps, because Mansfield, a Straussian, offered idiosyncratic takes, at least some of the time - but when? (Straussians posit the ability to decipher hidden meanings in the great works, which speak to each other, but not to the common man). And partly, finally, because Mansfield sometimes didn't explain key terms and assumptions sufficiently clearly, at least for my taste. For example, what was the ancient and medieval thinking that Machiavelli was rejecting? Eventually, Mansfield mentions virtue (including justice and nobility), natural law, and God. And what does rational control mean, exactly? Often, Mansfield set this idea aside and focused on apparently related ideas, such as "necessity" (in the case of Machiavelli) - without explicating the connection. Necessity, it seems, means self-preservation. I don't know whether other political philosophers would agree that Machiavelli is as pivotal as Mansfield makes out. Or for the reasons Mansfield gives. I wish I'd taken Mansfield's course, which provides the basis for the book, when I was an undergrad and had the chance to discuss the ideas in section. Even better, I wish I'd first taken his complementary course on ancient and medieval political thought. (Of course, as an undergrad, I'd be even less prepared to follow his argument than now.) One of the truly new ideas for me was Mansfield's argument that Rousseau - not Hegel - had historicized reason. At the end of the book, Mansfield surprised me. I thought he might argue for a return to the ancient emphasis on virtue. But instead he suggests we need a "reworked liberalism," one that emphasizes individual honor rather than materal accumulation.

Thomas Piketty and Michael Sandel, Equality: What It Means and Why It Matters (2025)

This slim book (115 pages), which I read for my Zoom book club, is a transcript of a conversation between the two famous authors. It was illuminating, and I liked a lot of what they (especially Sandel) proposed, but I wished they had explored their areas of difference more actively. Picketty is pushing for a reinvigorated, again radical Social Democracy, which will restore a much more progressive tax regime, "decommodify" as much as 80-90% of the economy, and promote much greater North-South international cooperation and even, one day, establish a United States of the World. Sandel emphasized ways to take the sting out of meritocracy - for example, by introducing chance (through lotteries) in selection for top colleges, and by honoring all work. While the two men generally signalled their agreement with each other, the reader unfortunately didn't learn much about potential conflicts between their approaches. Picketty, for example, seems to think we need a much larger share of the population earning a college/university degree, while Sandel seems to want to devalue the credential of a college degree. Sandel's communitarianism seems to entail greater subsidiarity - smaller-scale communities being given more responsibility and strengthened - which would seem to be at odds with Picketty's socialist dream of a world community and government. Finally, Sandel calls for a more judgmental kind of political conversation and community, one that is willing to identify better and worse ways of life. But, I wonder, wouldn't this judgmentalism fuel the flames of populist resentment toward elites?

Jonathan Israel, Dutch Primacy in World Trade, 1585-1740 (1989)

This excellent book has helped to fill in several gaps in my knowledge - about the Dutch Republic, early modern trade, European great power competition, the tools and changing nature of mercantilism. I knew of Israel as an intellectual historian of the Enlightenment, but before coming across this book, I had no idea that he had previously focused on economic and political history, a field in which he achieved great distinction. Israel challenges a number of dominant accounts of Dutch economic success in the early modern period. He disputes Fernand Braudel's claims that population and economic trends and Dutch advantages in "bulk" trades alone accounted for the Dutch Republic's economic rise and fall. Rather, politics - above all, the role of the "federal republican" Dutch state - was also crucial. Additionally, the Dutch expanded beyond the bulk trades, whose success depended on extraordinarily low shipping costs and low interest rates, to become dominant in the rich trades as well. In order to do this, they had to develop processing, refining, and manufacturing capabilities. Israel convincingly argues that the Dutch Republic's global trade primacy was predicated on something never seen before in the world: its role as an active global entrepot. Previously, Antwerp had been a global entrepot, but it had functioned more passively, as a conduit. The Dutch used both state power (elbowing Antwerp aside, forging alliances, cornering markets) and value-adding manufacturing to make themselves an active global entrepot. The book helped me understand better, though by no means fully, how mercantilism worked and evolved. The decades between 1720 and 1740 were a turning point, as a previously gentler mercantilism gave way to a "comprehensive, industrial mercantilism." Across the board, countries banned the export of raw materials and the import of finished products from other powers, with the intent to build up their own industries. Why, exactly, this change occurred now was unclear to me. Israel mentions intensified competition, but what was responsible for this? After all, competition had appeared to be quite fierce earlier - between Spain and the North Netherland; Spain and England; England and the Dutch Republic; the Dutch Republic and Denmark; the Dutch Republic and Sweden; France under Louis XIV and many countries. What was new in the early 18th century - was it a significantly strengthened England/Britain after 1688? Newly ambitious powers, like Prussia under Friedrich Wilhelm I and Russia under Peter? Greater state capacity in many places? Questions for another day.... Reading this book makes me all the more eager to read more about the Dutch and the early modern period. Stay tuned.

T.S. Eliot, The Waste Land and Other Poems (1930)

A departure for me, yes. A welcome one. I'd periodically come across comments referring to Eliot's towering influence in mid-century American high culture. I wanted to know more. So my colleague and friend Ezra Nielsen lent me this slim volume. I loved it. I admit I know nothing about how to read poetry. It was a chastening experience to feel lost at sea. But Ezra gave me some tips about the content - the sense of brokenness of the world (my words, not his) - and recommended I read the poems out loud and relish the words. Which I did. I plan to read them several times more.