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SEPARATED FROM ANCIENT INDIA

  SEPARATED FROM ANCIENT INDIA   INTRODUCTION India once known as akhand bharat , what many of us know is pakistan and bangladesh are ...

Saturday, 17 February 2018

ECONOMIC TRENDS AND CONDITIONS IN THE SIXTEENTH CENTURY


ECONOMIC TRENDS AND CONDITIONS IN THE SIXTEENTH CENTURY



It is difficult to generalize about the European economy in the sixteenth century. Conditions varied considerably from one area to another; and, although there were forces that were everywhere at work, their intensity and their impact differed as they affected different regions. Similarly, there were temporal variations; conditions changed with the passage of time, and the timetable varied from one area to another.
                                    Keeping these facts in mind, we may make some general statements. The sixteenth century was on the whole a time of economic expansion for Europe. The depressed conditions that had prevailed from the middle of the fourteenth century were giving way, and the growth before 1350 was being resumed. One sign of this expansion, as well as a cause of it, was a growth in population. By the sixteenth century, the ravages of the Black Death and its recurrences were being made up, and the overall population of Europe had reached its 1350 level and was increasing beyond that point.
                                     The general statement that the sixteenth century was a period of economic expansion needs to be qualified by the recognition that not all areas witnessed the same degree of growth; in some, indeed, the overall picture is one of recession. The economy of Europe was becoming truly European. What happened in one country affected others, and wise businessmen kept abreast not only of economic activities and problems in the various parts of Europe but also of the numerous other factors that might affect their businesses. These factors included the political, diplomatic, and military situations; dynastic arrangements, including such matters as marriages among ruling families; and, as the split in the church became deeper, religious matters.
                                        Other important influences were the voyages of discovery and exploration. Here again the impact was different for different countries. One of the effects of the voyages undertaken by the Portuguese, Spanish, English, French, and Dutch was to hasten the process that had produced them the process, that is, whereby the nations of the Atlantic seaboard took the place of the Italian city-states as the chief factors in European trade and economic life in general. Until this time, Europe had always centered on the Mediterranean; it was the Mediterranean that was the great axis of trade and civilization, or else the great barrier across which Christendom faced its enemies. Though it did not cease to be important, a profound and apparently irrevocable shift in relationships was taking place, and Europe was beginning to face the Atlantic seaboard. The Italian city-states, by their failure to unite with one another were becoming the battlegrounds and dependencies of the great western nations, particularly Spain; and their economic greatness was passing. The change was gradual; Venice remained a great state, and Genoese merchants and bankers played a significant part in the Spanish economy. But the future lay elsewhere.
                                                       From the Spanish Empire in the New World came an influx of precious metals, which had profound economic effects. The flow became especially important in the second half of the sixteenth century, and consisted of both gold and silver, with the latter metal predominating. The Spanish went to great lengths to secure the entire supply for themselves and prevent any of their precious cargoes from falling into the hands of their rivals. Each year the plate fleet, bearing the bullion from the mines of Peru and Mexico, was accompanied to Spain by a convoy of warships, and during the sixteenth century no other nation ever succeeded in intercepting this fleet. Francis Drake was able, however, to rob Spanish treasure in Central America and in the Pacific.
                                                       In the middle of the sixteenth century great deposits of silver were discovered in Mexico and Peru; in the latter region were the great mines of Potosí, in the area of modern Bolivia. A new method of extracting the silver from the ore was developed, and the amount of silver reaching Spain became very great. It was this bullion, which to a great extent, made possible the foreign and imperial policies of the last years of Charles V and the reign of Philip II. Because of these ambitious and costly policies, it proved impossible to keep the gold and silver in Spain. Much of it was spent to support activities that were not directly related to Spanish affairs, since both Charles and Philip had extensive interests outside the country. It was also necessary to export the precious metals to pay for manufactured goods, because of the neglect of Spanish industry. Spain also was compelled to import agricultural products throughout the century. Various causes combined to harm Spanish agriculture.
                                                    The mistreatment of the Moriscos (See Chapter 18), who had been the chief agricultural workers in the country, was a serious blow. Another harmful influence was the favor shown to the mesta, the association of sheep-growers of Castile. Since the mesta was a prolific source of tax revenues, the Spanish monarchs adopted the shortsighted policy of favoring the sheep-growers at the expense of the farmers. Add to this the fact that only about 45 percent of the soil of Spain is even modestly fertile, while only 10 percent can be described as rich, and it becomes clear why Spain was importing wheat from early in the sixteenth century.
                                                         The massive flow of specie accompanied what has come to be called the Price Revolution a rise in prices that took place all over Europe, even though it was higher in some countries than in others. This inflationary trend was especially marked in Spain and undoubtedly was connected with the influx of gold and silver. The connection between the quantity of gold and silver in circulation and the rise of prices was not immediately seen, but during the second half of the century certain thinkers became aware of the connection. The earliest was a group of men connected with the Spanish University of Salamanca; better known is the versatile Frenchman Jean Bodin, whose work was much more widely known and who made popular the idea that the price inflation was the direct result of the increase in the money supply.
                                                       The same idea has been put forward, in a much more elaborate and technical form, in the twentieth century, but it has been challenged in recent years and can no longer be accepted without serious modifications. The influx of gold and silver may now be looked on as one factor in the Price Revolution, but far from the only one. Of the others, perhaps the most important was the growth in population.
                                                        The example of Spain shows that a simple increase in the amount of money was not necessarily beneficial. However, in countries where agriculture and industry were in a more flourishing state, and in which the demands of war and foreign policy were not so all-consuming, the increase in the money supply acted as a stimulus to economic activity. Even in such cases, however, its effects were unevenly distributed among the various social classes. Wages rose more slowly than prices, and wage earners did not share in the benefits of economic expansion as did their employers, especially the great capitalists.

                                                For centuries capitalism had been emerging in many fields, and this process was continued, and accelerated, in the sixteenth century. Here again, different sections of the economy and different parts of Europe were affected in varying ways and at varying rates of speed. For our purposes, capitalism may be defined as a system in which enterprises are not controlled by those who supply the labor. The greater guilds of Florence are examples of capitalism long before the sixteenth century, and numerous other examples can be found in Italy, the Low Countries, and throughout western Europe. Moreover, certain types of enterprise that required substantial resources and that were conducted on a large scale, with the concomitant risks, were inevitably capitalistic. This is true, for example, of shipbuilding and international trade. The printing industry, which existed in Europe from the fifteenth century, was essentially capitalistic, at least in the case of the more stable and successful firms. Mining was necessarily a capitalistic enterprise.
                                                      Even agriculture, the most conservative branch of economic life, the one that responds most reluctantly to change, was becoming capitalistic in the sixteenth century. The enclosure movement in England exemplifies this trend. The term enclosure refers to the enclosing of the open fields and common lands by means of fences or hedges and converting them to grazing lands for sheep. This process was stimulated by the great demand, both domestic and foreign, for English wool. It was this process that brought forth the protest of Thomas More in the Utopia about lands in which sheep eat men. There was some social dislocation caused by enclosures; fewer men were required to take care of sheep than were needed for raising crops, and, therefore, enclosures forced many peasants off the land and made them vagabonds, sometimes criminals. Such persons were subjected to severe punishments at the hands of the law in an age that lacked the modern understanding of social change and its victims.
                                                 Wool had been the chief article of export for England since the thirteenth century, but by 1500 a shift had occurred. For a long time it had been raw wool that the English sent abroad to be processed into woolen cloth in foreign countries. However, the native English woolen manufacturing industry had been developed to the point where it was now woolen cloth that constituted England's chief export. All woolen cloth going to the Continent passed through Antwerp, which was, therefore, the staple port for this product. It was handled by the Merchant Adventurers, a group of wealthy merchants from various cities in the kingdom, especially London. For the raw wool England still exported, the staple port was Calais still in English possession in 1500 and it was handled by the organization known as the Merchants of the Staple. For high grade wool, England's chief competition was Spain, where the mesta, as we have seen, dominated the rural economy. The prosperity of the Spanish sheep-growers was based on the wool of the Merino sheep, which had first been imported into Spain from North Africa about 1300. Wool was one of the chief articles of trade and manufacture throughout western Europe. The Florentine economy, as previously noted, was largely based on it; and the textile manufactures of the Low Countries continued to be important. Sometimes the names of familiar articles of use can remind us of the places that originally specialized in such articles. For instance the city of Ghent (in French Gand) made and exported gloves, and our word gauntlet preserves this connection.
                                                             The enclosers - the men who made their land into pastures for sheep - were capitalists. They employed labor, produced for an international market, and reaped the profits. The English textile industry shows the advent of capitalism in a different field. It manifested itself in the so-called putting-out system. Here the leading figure the capitalist was the merchant who bought the raw material, which he then distributed put out to the craftsmen who performed the various operations required to transform it into finished cloth, and then sold it on the market for a profit.
                                                        This system was also known as the domestic system, because the various workers - carders, fullers, spinners, weavers and so forth - worked in their homes. In other places, as in Florence, textile manufacture was carried on by means of a sort of factory system, with the workers gathered together in large workshops. The difference here is related to differences in the respective position of the guilds. In Florence the greater guilds such as the Arte della Lana, or wool guild were great capitalistic organizations that dominated economic and political life. In England, however, as in some other places, the guilds were chiefly concerned with maintaining their exclusive local privileges and preventing competition among their members, and consequently acting as a restraint upon the expansion of trade and industry.
                                                               To circumvent these restraints, the textile capitalists found their workers in rural areas, outside the cities where guilds controlled the economy. This led in some areas to a decline of the guilds and of the prosperity of the towns in which guilds were especially strong. This was not true everywhere; in some places guilds were growing stronger. In France, before the end of the sixteenth century, the crown ordered all craftsmen to belong to guilds. In this way the government, by controlling the guilds, could tighten its hold on the economy. One of the most important, long-term economic and social trends, which had been going on for centuries, was the decline of serfdom. For this there were numerous reasons. To open up new lands, as in the "Drive to the East," inducements had to be offered to peasant cultivators, and freedom was used as such an inducement. The rise of towns, already noted, often had the effect of giving freedom to serfs who escaped from the land and took refuge within the town walls. The labor shortage that followed the Black Death in many areas enhanced the bargaining position of the peasants who survived, and enabled many to secure their freedom.
                                                   The development of trade and the increased circulation of money worked in the same direction. As more products from distant places became available, manorial lords began to desire money with which to buy them, and to obtain it they were willing to commute the obligations of their peasants from services and payments in kind to money rents. The manorial lord thus evolved into a landlord, while the servile peasant became a rent-paying tenant. The increased circulation of money here helped the peasant by providing him with the ability to pay his rent. As for the landlord, he could get his work done by hired labor, which might prove economically more profitable than the old manorial services. As a result, serfdom declined very widely in the West though not everywhere and this development was most pronounced in the same areas in which economic development had progressed the most. In eastern Europe, including Russia, where society was overwhelmingly agrarian and dominated by noble landowners, a contrary trend was taking place; and the social and legal position of peasants was being depressed.
                                              Accompanying the changes in commerce, industry, and agriculture and to some extent making them possible was the continued growth of banking and finance. The greatest financial power of the sixteenth century was the house of Fugger in Augsburg. The history of its rise is in itself a sort of synopsis of the development of the European economy.
                                                      The founder of the family fortunes was Hans Fugger, a weaver who in about 1367 came to Augsburg from the countryside, where he had probably worked under the domestic system for an Augsburg merchant engaged in international trade. In the city, he expanded his activities, importing cotton and selling cloth made by himself and by other weavers. Soon he began to trade in other wares, and the business was continued by his descendants. They dealt in fruits, spices, and jewels as well as textiles, and they became involved in dealings with the Hapsburgs and with the papacy. The greatest of the Fuggers was Jacob Fugger II, called Jacob Fugger the Rich (1459-1525). Though the business was already prospering when he took it over, he greatly expanded it. From 1511 to 1527, under his direction, the capital of the business rose tenfold (from 196,791 gulden to 2,021,202). The greatest of Jacob's interests was mining. The family had become involved in this field as early as 1481, when in return for a loan to a member of the Hapsburg family, they received mining rights in the Tyrol. The mining activities of the Fuggers increased in the time of Jacob, who profited in this respect from the favor shown him by Emperor Maximilian I. He enjoyed important rights in the silver and copper mines of the Tyrol, the chief source of these metals before the opening up of the mines in the New World. The Fuggers also acquired complete control of the copper production of Hungary. In addition to the mines, they owned the plants that processed the ore, and employed hundreds of workers. Jacob Fugger attempted, though unsuccessfully, to achieve a world monopoly in copper and to use his monopoly to keep prices high. He was a Catholic as a young man he had planned for a while to be a priest and did much business with the papacy. He completely controlled the financial relationships of the pope with Germany; this included a monopoly on sending to Rome the proceeds from indulgences. In this way the activities of the Fuggers were at least indirectly connected with the early career of Martin Luther. Because of his importance to the papacy, Jacob was able to influence the appointment of bishops.
                                                        With his far-flung interests, it was necessary for him to be informed of events throughout Europe. He had agents in all the main business centers who supplied him with a constant flow of information, which has been compared to a press service. Contemporaries, aware of his wealth and power, were frequently opposed to him. There was a great deal of public sentiment that would have supported legal restraints against the power of the great merchants, but Jacob Fugger was protected by the favor of Charles V, to whom he was very valuable, even indispensable.
                                                            It was his relationship with Charles that involved Fugger in the most famous event of his career. When Charles became a candidate for the throne of the Holy Roman Empire upon the death of Maximilian I in 1519, he borrowed a great deal of money from the Fugger bank in order to influence the electors in his favor. It was generally believed that these loans were responsible for his success in being chosen emperor. This is shown in an extraordinary letter of 1523 from Fugger to the emperor, in an attempt to collect the money Charles owed him. In the letter Fugger plainly states that without his help, Charles might not have been elected. As security for the loan, and for later loans to the emperor, Fugger received some of the revenues of the Spanish crown. Three great Spanish religious orders were under the control of the king, and for over a century the house of Fugger controlled the income from their property, which included large agricultural holdings and mercury mines.
                                                                 Under Jacob's nephew Anton the firm reached its height, with a capital of about five million gulden by 1546. However, the connection with the Hapsburgs proved fatal in the end to the prosperity of the house. Later in the century and in the succeeding one, the Hapsburgs were unable to meet their obligations, and most of the firm's money was lost. Yet the career of the family, and especially of Jacob Fugger, clearly indicates that the power of capital was making itself felt. In some ways, Jacob was the most powerful man of his time.
                                                      The career of Jacob Fugger also set in relief the importance of political factors, especially the state, in the economic life in the sixteenth century. As the national state was asserting its involvement in, and control of, numerous fields of human endeavor, its activities more and more affected economic activities as the governments sought, wisely or otherwise, to direct economic life for the increase of national strength.
                                                    The emerging nations suffered under handicaps in managing economic policy. One of these lay in the fact that their financial needs had outgrown their ability to meet them; that is, a system of raising money that had been devised to meet the needs of a more or less decentralized feudal society was inadequate for the expanded requirements of the larger and more concentrated units of political power that were now becoming dominant. This problem was aggravated by the general ignorance of economics and public  finance.
                                           These factors combined to bring about such expedients as debasing the coinage, which proved to be harmful to the economies of the countries concerned. During the Hundred Years' War, the French crown had resorted on numerous occasions to this practice. In sixteenth-century England, Henry VIII did the same thing, and it was not until the reign of Elizabeth I in the second half of the century that the coinage value was restored. Such a policy militated against a country's prosperity; in the case of England it helps to explain why, in spite of encouraging developments in trade, industry, and agriculture, the country suffered from more or less depressed economic conditions for much of the century.
                                                     Perhaps the most obvious way in which political events affected the economy was through war. The wars of the sixteenth century, as will be seen in subsequent chapters, were frequent; international conflict and civil struggle fill the history of the period and had a tremendously destructive effect. A few examples will illustrate the point. The Sack of Rome in 1527 and the Sack of Antwerp "the Spanish Fury" of 1576 were terrible blows to the cities affected. Antwerp had been one of the greatest centers of trade and finance; indeed, it had stood as the key city in the European economy. After the Sack of 1576 although there were additional factors it never regained its former position.
Similarly, the wars of Charles V and Philip II of Spain, although they were not fought on Spanish territory, were financed largely by Spanish, and in particular by Castilian, resources. They had the effect, again combined with other factors, of directing the resources of Spain to unproductive uses, of stifling the development of the economy, and of preventing prosperity. The decline of Spain from its status as one of the great European powers, a decline from which it has never recovered, was the result of this as much as of any one factor. Those countries that enjoyed an abundance of resources and basic economic strength recovered from the damage done by war. The revolt of the Netherlands was costly to Spain and to that part of the Low Countries that remained under Spanish control, but the new nation of the United Netherlands or Dutch republic went on to become one of the most prosperous of the European states in the next century. The French Wars of Religion were among the most terrible of the century because they were primarily civil wars, and they caused great devastation; but France was, nevertheless, to become the dominant power in Europe in the seventeenth century.
                                               In a general sense, the growth of the nation-state, with increasingly unified control over a territory larger than that of earlier political units, responded well to the needs of the expanding economy and formed mutual alliances between monarchs and merchants. Rulers and businessmen had a common interest in peace and security, in breaking down local and regional restraints on the movement of goods, and in subduing the nobility. It may be said that kings identified themselves socially with the nobles, since they were of the same class; and that the wealth of the great nobility depended largely on the favor of their rulers, who often endowed them with rich estates to enable them to maintain their social prominence. At the same time, when it came to political power, monarchs quite often took care to keep their greatest nobles out of positions of power and to choose as their closest advisers men of undistinguished origin whose position depended entirely on royal favor.
                                                   For example, two of the most important advisers of Henry VIII of England were Thomas Wolsey, son of a butcher and innkeeper, and Thomas Cromwell, whose father was a brewer, blacksmith, and fuller. Philip II of Spain followed the policy of using great nobles for positions that took them out of the country, preferring to appoint professional men and priests to positions of importance nearer home. Philip's father, Charles V, had relied for many years on a man of humble origin, Francisco de los Cobos, as the chief figure in the Spanish administration. In France, where the old nobility noblesse dépe, or the nobility of the sword did remain important, it was supplemented by the noblesse de robe or nobility of the robe men of middle-class extraction who owed their noble status to judicial office. In England, the gentry, a class of non-noble landowners, was becoming dominant in the nation's affairs; one sign of their increasing importance is found in the fact that members of this class formed the great majority of the House of Commons.
                                          What the members of the non-noble business, professional, and landholding classes had to offer their rulers was not only loyalty and service but also money. Methods of acquiring money available to the monarchs of the time were primitive. Taxation was in its infancy and was not yet regarded as the chief way to acquire funds for the conduct of public business. In England the monarch was expected to "live of his own" that is, to meet expenses with such resources as the income of crown lands and the receipts from customs duties. In time of war or other critical situations, Parliament might be induced to grant taxes, but there was a limit to its willingness to part with money. In France, the taille, a combined income and property tax, was levied throughout the country, but the rate varied. In the more recently acquired provinces, where representative bodies estates still existed, these estates served as a means of protecting the inhabitants of their provinces against excessive royal demands, and the taille had to be negotiated annually between the royal officials and the estates. Where the estates no longer survived, the taille was levied directly on the defenseless inhabitants, and the rate was higher.
                                                          Fiscal burdens were often unequally distributed. In France, the First and Second Estates clergy and nobility respectively were privileged classes, which means that they were exempt from many of the payments required of the bulk of the population. The French church sometimes granted the king a "free gift," which was a good deal less than it would have paid if the wealth of the church had been taxed at the rate levied on the unprivileged. In Castile, which supplied the bulk of the revenues of the king of Spain, the nobles and clergy achieved the goal of exemption from taxes in the reign of Charles V, and stopped attending the Cortes the representative assembly so that only delegates from the towns continued to be present at meetings. Deprived of the support of the other classes, these townsmen were not strong enough to put up a successful resistance to the steady growth of royal power.
                                                         Thus tax systems were defective for various reasons. Another problem that arose in connection with raising taxes was that much of the revenue tended to remain in the pockets of officials engaged in the collection process. One of the reforms of Sully, the finance minister of Henry IV of France at the end of the sixteenth century, was to take measures that would suppress this sort of speculation and bring the royal revenue to the royal treasury. There were consequently numerous reasons why the tax structures of the European states failed to meet their expanding needs and why various other expedients, generally unhealthy, were tried. Reference has already been made to the debasement of coinage. Another was the sale of titles of nobility. A good or bad example of the results of this practice is found in the experience of France, where the sale of titles came in the sixteenth century to be carried on extensively. For centuries thereafter, individuals of the middle class who had succeeded financially sought to rise socially by buying their way into the aristocracy. This was fiscally disadvantageous in the long run, because elevation into the privileged ranks of the nobility also meant a large degree of exemption from taxation. In this way, many persons who were especially well qualified to contribute to the financial support of the state were relieved of the necessity of carrying their fair share of the burden.
                                                    Not only titles but also offices were sold. Here again the case of France is especially instructive. It was customary by the sixteenth century for judicial offices not only to be sold, but also to be passed down from generation to generation in the same family. In 1604 this practice received official status when a tax, called the Paulene, was imposed at the time an office was transferred. Thereafter an annual fee was paid that made the office virtually the property of its holder. Interestingly enough, this did not create a body of mediocrities holding positions for which they were not fitted because the jobs had become family possessions. On the contrary, there came to exist distinguished legal families, proud of their status, competent, and conscientious in carrying out their professional and official duties. Nevertheless, the practice of selling offices came in time to create a vast body of functionaries with overlapping positions, who had bought their posts and intended to recoup their investments at the expense of the citizenry. This oversized bureaucracy also came to hamper the crown and complicate the problem of efficient government.
                                                      Some taxes in France were farmed; that is, the right to collect them was sold to corporations of tax-farmers at a fixed sum. The tax-farmers, having bought the privilege of collecting the tax, were primarily interested in making a profit, and they were pretty much given a free rein in doing so. In fact, the coercive force of the state was at their disposal in dealing with recalcitrant taxpayers. These tax-farmers were often guilty of extortionate practices in squeezing money from the hapless French taxpayer, who, it must always be remembered, was a peasant or a town dweller of either the working class or middle class, unprotected by noble or clerical status.
                                                    We have had occasion to note that governmental officials and functionaries quite generally managed to acquire for themselves some of the funds that should have gone into the public treasury. This sort of corruption, or graft, was so widespread that it is almost unfair to refer to it in such unflattering terms. Public officials, at least in some cases, were more or less expected to reward themselves from pubic funds. Cardinal Wolsey, a man of modest origin as we have seen, acquired wealth of vast proportions; the magnificence with which he surrounded himself excited the envy of the great nobles of England, and he even ventured, very imprudently, to rival the king himself in the lavishness of his entertainments and banquets. In the following century, Cardinal Richelieu, whose family was not a wealthy one, left so large an estate at his death in 1642 that his will was several pages long. Indeed, Thomas More and Niccol Machiavelli, so different from one another in many respects, were alike in that they could both truly assert that they had not profited financially by holding public office; each seems to have realized that he was different from his contemporaries in this way.
                                                    In the field of commerce, governments were involved from a number of angles. Customs duties, on both imports and exports, were used both to regulate trade and to add to revenues. Organizations of merchants were encouraged by governments, and officials of government often associated themselves with mercantile enterprises by investing in them. The companies that were being formed to open up and carry on trade in the newly discovered parts of the world received charters from their governments that assured them of monopolies on the trade of specific areas. In England a number of companies of this nature were formed during the sixteenth century. The Cathay Company, chartered in 1576 for the Chinese trade, failed. Others were more successful: the Muscovy Company (1555) for the trade with Russia; the Eastland Company (1579) for the Scandinavian and Baltic trade; the Turkey Company (1581), later known as the Levant Company; and, most famous of all, the English East India Company, chartered in 1600, which was to have a long and amazing career. The new Dutch republic formed its own East India Company in 1602. Numerous other companies were chartered by these governments and others for a long time to come and enjoyed varying degrees of success.
                                                    The companies were formed on the joint-stock principle, which had been familiar in Italy for centuries, but which was adopted in northern Europe in the sixteenth century. By this arrangement, ownership was divided into shares of stock, which could be purchased in small or large quantities. Each individual shareholder was an owner of the company in proportion to the number of shares he held. The shareholders chose the officers and directors of the company who carried on business on behalf of the membership. This form of organization had numerous advantages over earlier ones. It made it possible for a larger number of persons to participate in mercantile enterprise, including many who could never have done so on their own; it facilitated the accumulation of large quantities of capital; and it lessened individual risk. In the older partnership form of organization, each partner had unlimited liability for the losses and debts of the firm. In seeking out and exploiting trade opportunities, joint-stock companies did important work in exploring new lands and sometimes in the fields of conquest, settlement, and government. Students of the history of the United States and of India will be familiar with this fact.
                                          By the sixteenth century, it may be said that a European economy had emerged in which the various parts of Europe were bound together by an intricate network of economic and financial relationships. During the first half of the century and part of the second, the city of Antwerp was the financial and commercial center for the European economy, showing once again how the economic center of gravity had shifted from the Mediterranean to the Atlantic. When the preeminence of Antwerp became a casualty of the war for Dutch independence, its place was taken for a while by Amsterdam and later by London.
                                           The sixteenth century saw not only the rise of new economic powers but also the decline of old ones. In addition to the gradually decreasing importance of the Italian city-states, the period also witnessed a falloff in the power and position of the Hanseatic League, or Hansa towns. This was an organization of cities in northern Europe, formed for the purpose of carrying on trade; it had been one of the great powers in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries. It secured special trading privileges with numerous countries, fought wars to maintain its privileges, and had settlements of merchants from London to Novgorod. The chief city of the league was Lübeck, but many other great cities belonged to it. It could flourish only in a period when central governments in some areas were weak enough to permit the existence of virtually self-governing city-states. With the rise and consolidation of the nations of Europe, its decline was inevitable. By the sixteenth century its greatest days were over, though many causes contributed to its decline and the decline did not come suddenly. Something of the atmosphere of the Hanseatic towns as it came down to our own century is preserved for us in the writings of a descendant of the prosperous merchant class of a Hanseatic city, Thomas Mann.

Agricultural expansion; crops 750 -1206



Agricultural expansion; crops 750 -1206
Introduction
                       Land grants became frequent from the fifth century AD. According to this, the brahmanas were granted villages free from taxes which were collected by the king from the villages. In addition, the beneficiaries were given the right to govern the people living in the donated villages. Government officials and royal retainers were not permitted to enter the gifted villages. Up to the fifth century, the ruler generally retained the right to punish the thieves, but in later times, the beneficiaries were authorized to punish all criminal offenders. Thus, the brahmanas not only collected taxes from the peasants and artisans but also maintained law and order in the villages granted to them. Villages were made over to the brahmanas in perpetuity. Thus, the power of the king was heavily undermined from the end of the Gupta period onwards.
                                               In the Maurya period, taxes were assessed and collected by the agents of the king, and law and order were maintained by them. In the initial stage, land grants attest to the increasing power of the king. In Vedic times, the king was considered the owner of cattle or gopati, but in Gupta times and later, he was regarded as bhupati or owner of land. However, eventually land grants undermined the authority of the king, and the pockets that were free from royal control multiplied. Royal control was further eroded through the payment of government officials by land grants. In the Maurya period, the officers of the state, from the highest to the lowest, were generally paid in cash. The practice continued under the Kushans, who issued a large number of copper and gold coins, and it lingered on under the Guptas whose gold coins were evidently meant for payment of the army and high functionaries. However, from the sixth century onwards, the position seems to have changed.
                                                                         The law-books of that century recommended that services should be rewarded in land. Accordingly, from the reign of Harshavardhana, public officials were paid in land revenues and one-fourth of the royal revenue was earmarked for the endowment of great public servants. The governors, ministers, magistrates, and officers were given portions of land for their personal upkeep. All this created vested interests at the cost of royal authority. Thus, by the seventh century, there is a distinct evolution of the landlordism and a devolution of the central state authority.
Landlords and peasants in  Europe
                                                                                    The growing population in the 16th century and the larger concentrations of urban dwellers required abundant supplies of food. In the course of the century, wheat prices steadily rose; the blades of late medieval price scissors once more converged. Money again flowed into the countryside to pay for food, especially wheat. But the social repercussions of the rising price of wheat varied in the different European regions.
                                                                                   In eastern Germany (with the exception of electoral Saxony), Poland, Bohemia, Hungary, Lithuania, and even eventually Russia, the crucial change was the formation of a new type of great property, called traditionally in the German literature the Gutsherrschaft  Historians distinguish two phases in its appearance. The nobility and gentry, even without planning to do so, accumulated large tracts of abandoned land during the late medieval population collapse. However, depopulation also meant that landlords could not easily find the labour to work their extensive holdings. Population, as previously mentioned, was growing again by 1500, and prices (especially the price of cereals) steadily advanced. Inflation threatened the standard of living of the landlords; to counter its effects, they needed to raise their incomes. They accordingly sought to win larger harvests from their lands, but the lingering shortage of labourers was a major obstacle. As competition for their labour remained high, peasants were prone to move from one estate to another, in search of better terms. Moreover, the landlords had little capital to hire salaried hands and, in the largely rural east, there were few sources of capital. They had, however, one recourse. They dominated the weak governments of the region, and even a comparatively strong ruler, like the Russian tsar, wished to accommodate the demands of the gentry. In 1497 the Polish gentry won the right to export their grain without paying duty. Further legislation bound the peasants to the soil and obligated them to work the lord’s demesne. The second serfdom gradually spread over eastern Europe; it was established in Poland as early as 1520; in Russia it was legally imposed in the Ulozhenie (Law Code) of 1649. At least in Poland, the western market for cereals was a principal factor in reviving serfdom, in bringing back a seemingly primitive form of labour organization.
                                                                      No second serfdom developed in western Europe, even though the stimulus of high wheat prices was equally powerful. Harassed landlords, pressed to raise their revenues, had more options than their eastern counterparts. They might look to a profession or even a trade or, more commonly, seek at court an appointment paying a salary or a pension. The western princes did not want local magnates to dominate their communities, as this would erode their own authority. They consequently defended the peasants against the encroachments of the gentry. Finally, landlords in the west could readily find capital. They could use the money either to hire workers or to improve their leased properties, in expectation of gaining higher rents. The availability of capital in the west and its scarcity in the east were probably the chief reasons why the agrarian institutions of eastern and western Europe diverged so dramatically in the 16th century.
                                                                 In the west, in areas of plow agriculture, the small property remained the most common productive unit. However, the terms under which it was held and worked differed widely from one European region to another. In the Middle Ages, peasants were typically subject to a great variety of charges laid upon both their persons and the land. They had to pay special marriage and inheritance taxes; they were further required to provide tithes to the parish churches. These charges were often small—sometimes only recognitive—and were fixed by custom. They are often regarded as “feudal” as distinct from “capitalist” rents, in that they were customary and not negotiated; the lord, moreover, provided nothing—no help or capital improvements—in return for the payments.
                                                                              The 16th century witnessed a conversion—widespread though never complete—from systems of feudal to capitalist rents. The late medieval population collapse increased the mobility of the peasant population; a peasant who settled for one year and one day in a “free village” or town received perpetual immunity from personal charges. Personal dues thus eroded rapidly; dues weighing upon the land persisted longer but could not be raised. It was therefore in the landlord’s interest to convert feudal tenures into leaseholds, and this required capital.
                                                                        In England upon the former manors, farmers (the original meaning of the term was leaseholder or rent payer), who held land under long-term leases, gradually replaced copyholders, or tenants subject only to feudal dues. These farmers constituted the free English yeomanry, and their appearance marks the demiseof the last vestiges of medieval serfdom. In the Low Countries, urban investors bought up the valuable lands near towns and converted them into leaseholds, which were leased for high rents over long terms. The heavy infusions of urban capital into Low Country agriculture helped make it technically the most advanced in Europe, a model for improving landlords elsewhere. In central and southern France and in central Italy, urban investment in the land was closely linked to a special type of sharecropping lease, called the métayage in France and the mezzadria in Italy. The landlord (typically a wealthy townsman) purchased plots, consolidated them into a farm, built a house upon it, and rented it. Often, he also provided the implements needed to work the land, livestock, and fertilizer. The tenant gave as rent half of the harvest. The spread of this type of sharecropping in the vicinity of towns had begun in the late Middle Ages and was carried vigorously forward in the 16th century. Nonetheless, the older forms of feudal tenure, and even some personal charges, also persisted, especially in Europe’s remote and poorer regions. The early modern countryside presents an infinitely complex mixture of old and new ways of holding and working the land.
                                                      Two further changes in the countryside are worth noting. In adopting Protestantism, the North German states, Holland, the Scandinavian countries, and England confiscated and sold, in whole or in part, ecclesiastical properties. Sweden, for example, did so in 1526–27, England in 1534–36. It is difficult to assess the exact economic repercussions of these secularizations, but the placing of numerous properties upon the land market almost surely encouraged the infusion of capital into (and the spread of capitalist forms of agrarian organization in) the countryside.
                                                                            Second, the high price of wheat did not everywhere make cereal cultivation the most remunerative use of the land. The price of wool continued to be buoyant, and this, linked with the availability of cheap wheat from the east, sustained the conversion of plowland into pastures that also had begun in the late Middle Ages. In England this movement is called “enclosure.” In the typical medieval village, peasants held the cultivated soil in unfenced strips, and they also enjoyed the right of grazing a set number of animals upon the village commons. Enclosure meant both the consolidating of the strips into fenced fields and the division of the commons among the individual villagers. As poorer villagers often received plots too small to work, they often had little choice but to sell their share to their richer neighbours and leave the village. In 16th-century England, enclosure almost always meant the conversion of plowland and commons into fenced meadows or pastures. To many outspoken observers, clergy and humanists in particular, enclosures were destroying villages, uprooting the rural population, and multiplying beggars on the road and paupers in the towns. Sheep were devouring the people—“Where there have been many householders and inhabitants,” the English bishop Hugh Latimer lamented, “there is now but a shepherd and his dog.” In light of recent research, these 16th-century enclosures were far less extensive than such strictures imply. Nonetheless, enclosures are an example of the power of capital to transform the rhythms of everyday life; at the least, they were an omen of things to come.
                                                                                



Saturday, 6 January 2018

The Present Age of Infomania

The Present Age of Infomania

                                                   One could fill a medium-sized library with the books about the Information Age published in the past 40 years. If one had the inclination, I suspect that a chronological analysis of the publication of these books would reveal a steep ascent in quantity. In other words, it seems that the more we talk about the end of print and the takeover by networked digital materials, the more printed works we produce (not just about information but about all topics). John Seely Brown and Paul Duguid, in their recent book on the social aspects of information, go one step farther and suggest that the printed book has been a success in the modern Information Age because they are "wonderfully standardized."1 What is most remarkable about the printed book is its durability, representing a form that has proved both its worth and adaptability over centuries. When one leading Information Age specialist writes about "being digital" he chooses to present his views in a printed book.2Some of us can hear the voices of those who have been most comfortable with "being print," including those who easily move back and forth between print and digital.
                                           If we added in the academic journals and trade magazines, we would have to seek funds to expand the physical spaces of our library. Then, of course, since our library would be well equipped with portals to the World Wide Web, we would have to consider the dizzying array of materials about the Information Age offered on it. But the honest truth is that no self-respecting library, personal or institutional, on the topic of the Information Age could be entirely confined to the virtual. Too many scholars from all disciplines, pundits from every walk of life, and government officials and lobbyists are writing about the Information Age in every conceivable venue for this to happen -- and for the kinds of reasons that individuals like Nicholas Negroponte suggest. We expect to find studies, reports, and opinion pieces about this era's obsession with information and information technology on Web sites, in printed academic journals, in newspapers, in government documents, and attached to electronic mail messages. And, with these, we even avoiding the kind of gray literature that circulates as the result of conferences, small working groups, and chatter about the office coffee pot. Rumor and gossip also are factors influencing dimensions of the Information Age.

The perspectives about the Information Age offered in these pages and on Web sites are equally dizzying. The computer, and all of its products from off-the-shelf software to networks, has been declared as both savior and destroyer of modern society.  For many, the computer and the resultant Information Age heralds a time when every person, with a modicum of cost, effort, and education, can harness more information in practical ways than ever before. Some of these individuals will become skillful enough to transform the information into knowledge (or, at least, skillful enough to be able to declare that this is what they are doing). For just as many, the computer and its era represent a gusher of evils, from the loss of privacy to the final successes of the modern military-industrial complex (affectionately called Big Brother since the beginning of this age). Likewise, some individuals will become skillful enough to protect themselves, while some will be able to become ever more powerful and much wealthier. We have some staying on the Information Highway with their eyes on the Road Ahead, while others are retreating to the halcyon days of real-time and real-world community and conversation.

The struggle has become to evaluate the actual effects of the use of and increasing reliance on information technologies. This has given rise to some new scholarly approaches, such as social informatics, defined as the "interdisciplinary study of the design, uses and consequences of ICTs [information and communication technologies] that takes into account their interaction with institutional and cultural contexts." While social informatics as a discipline is promising, especially in its emphasis on the "social context" of information technologies, this field does not seem to extend this concern to a broad historical context.This is a problem, in that some, like James Dewar's article on the printing press and the Internet commented on below, are looking for historical and broader or more meaningful contexts by which the present era can be effectively understood. And we can see some noteworthy examples of this, as well. Michael Hobart and Zachary Schiffman's recent book on "information ages" demonstrates that there have been different kinds of information ages and that we need to avoid trying to hold onto a monolithic definition of information, especially one formulated from the present period. They write, "Rather than attempting to find a single, overarching definition of information, applicable across time and culture, we must seek its unique meaning in each age, where technology and culture combine to isolate different kinds of information."8 While we can see some historians of other fields turning their attention to earlier eras as representing earlier Information Ages -- partly to argue, it seems, that every historical era has been an information age  it has been even more noticeable when non-historian participants in the present Information Age turn to historical studies for meaning, causation, and solace.

Appropriating History as Explanation

RAND mathematician James Dewar's recent essay, "The Information Age and the Printing Press: Looking Backward to See Ahead," is a notable example of the appropriation of history by a non-historian.10 Dewar turns to historical explanation because "it is difficult to see where the information age is leading because the technologies fueling it are still being developed and at a furious rate [and] . . . because of the breadth of the impact of information technologies to date." Dewar finds Elizabeth Eisenstein's explanation of the impact of the printing press to be uncannily parallel to today, leading to a final argument for an unregulated Internet because the future will be dominated by unintended consequences and take a long time to develop. Dewar believes that "there has been only one comparable event in the records history of communications" to the recent revolution in the information technologies -- the printing press. What makes the printing press comparable is the "one-to-many communications capability" since, in his opinion, "it is networked computers that define the information age."

Dewar reviews the claims, actual growth, capabilities, present uses, and projected uses of computer networks and then turns to compare these changes with what happened with the advent of the printing press. For the comparison he draws on Eisenstein's The Printing Press as an Agent of Change in which she "argues that the printing press changed the conditions under which information was collected, stored, retrieved, criticized, discovered, and promoted" -- all helping to cause the Reformation, the Renaissance, and the Scientific Revolution. Dewar then compares recent developments with the advent of the printing press to argue for their wider dissemination, retrieval, ownership, and acquisition of information (although Dewar uses knowledge here instead of information). He also briefly discusses unintended consequences, both good and bad, of the printing press era and the present Information Age. In terms of what Dewar sees as connecting these two information eras is that each represents a "breakthrough" and "important changes" in the use of information. Because of these parallels, Dewar believes that "networked computers could produce profound cultural changes in our time," "unintended consequences . . . [are] likely to upset conventional extrapolations of current trends," and the "changes could take decades to see clearly." Dewar then concludes with some discussion about policy implications of all this, primarily arguing that the Internet should be unregulated and that we should be open to experimentation to gain additional understanding about the consequences of the Internet's use.

Dewar's use of history is interesting. On the one hand, it is intended to provide insights that might be useful for current problems. For example, Dewar writes, "A more thoroughgoing exploration of the parallels between the printing press era and the information age may reveal further insights into policy making. This is particularly true in the area least explored by Eisenstein -- the negative consequences of the printing press, including the spread of pornography, secret societies and the like. How they were handled in that day may yield suggestions for how to deal with similar problems today." On a different note, Dewar writes that drawing on such historical studies is helpful because "If the future is to be dominated by unintended consequences, it would be a good idea to get to those consequences as quickly as possible and to work to recognize them when they appear." It is with this latter statement that we see that perhaps Dewar has over-extended the ways in which historical studies may be of use to those facing the onslaught of modern information technologies. Historical understanding will be most useful in sensitizing us to the fact that, one, our time may not be as unique as we believe, and, two, that taking a longer view helps us to remove ourselves from myopic views about the present.

Grand Versus Micro-History for Understanding Information

The place to begin to understand the problems with using Eisenstein's assessment of the origins of printing is to recognize that she is involved in the grand sweep of history, mostly by the implications of her study if not her focus on one technological innovation. By her grand sweep I do not mean the idea of Grand Theory, described by Wright Mills as meaning making contributions to a "systematic theory of the nature of man and society,"11 although that is what Dewar's use of Eisenstein suggests she has attempted. That is, if we perceive that there are parallel circumstances between current and older events than we are tempted to only look at the past as a means of helping to understand the present. History is not that clean or clear. Rather, it is often very messy, and, just as often, based on fragmentary evidence posing more questions than answers and requiring imaginative uses of evidence -- textual, oral, and artifactual.12 Comparing the spotty evidence of past events and epochs with the often overwhelming evidence of the present can be a daunting, if often flawed, task.

Although Eisenstein's volume is tempting for comparison with the current information or knowledge age, it may not at all be the best source of comparison. I would argue that it is altogether possible to make too much of such comparisons because standing on the inside of a current transition period makes it difficult to comprehend all the aspects of such a time and their meaning. Indeed, it seems difficult to say whether one can really recognize whether they are in such a time. Possibly, every generation believes that it is going through an immense and significant time, while it really will be not for another generation or two or more before it can be understand that this is an important era. Eisenstein had the benefit of several hundred years to look behind and see the impact of printing, while we may still be in no more than the second or third generation (personal computer to local area networks to the Internet) of the modern networked Information Age. It seems hardly useful to develop predictions or signs about the present time while so much of the present is buried under promises, hype, or hysteria about the implications of electronic information technology.

There is another, very useful way, to understand the current information era, and it brings to mind the earlier quoted statement of Hobart and Schiffman about looking for the "unique meaning [of information] in each age." I would go one step further, however, and argue that we should be examining the impact of information technologies and venues in circumstances as small as individuals, families, and particular places in tightly defined time periods -- all partly because the key to understanding information is always the degree to which it is used by or proves useful to individuals. Casting this in terms of historical approaches, and as a contrast to the nature of the Eisenstein study, we can see this as a form of "microhistory." As Giovanni Levi observes, "Microhistory as a practice is essentially based on the reduction of the scale of observation, on a microscopic analysis and an intensive study of the documentary material." Microhistory is done in the "belief that microscopic observation will reveal factors previously unobserved."13 Microhistory has proved to be an important approach in studying social history, that is, the history of ordinary people, and this is certainly germane to understanding the implications of the modern information era since so many claims are made about the liberating power and possibilities of computers, the Internet, and so forth for everyone in our society.

What I believe needs to be done is for individuals interested in the origins, development, and implications of the World Wide Web, as one example, to become more aware of how others -- in different cultures and different eras -- have used information. This is important because it demonstrates that the promises, problems, and perils represented by the Web may not be much different -- except in technological apparatus and scope -- than earlier information dissemination means. The remainder of this essay looks at a small cluster of recent books on early American history, from the mid seventeenth to the mid nineteenth century that present a different historical context for understanding the Web than that presented by the sweeping analysis of Eisenstein on the advent of the printing press. The implications seem, I think, to be different when we re-conceptualize the current information era by seeing that every one of these earlier periods also had people and events transfixed on information matters or absorbed by other claims about the power and potential of information. My brief list of books described below is not the result of a dedicated search but simply a partial reflection of what I have been reading to assist me in my own understanding of the present age and in my teaching about archives, records, and information.

Modern observers of the Information Age often describe the advent of the personal computer and the Internet as the emergence of a new, alternative culture, or, the creation of yet another socio-economic division (this one marked by access to information technologies). For example, Timothy Druckrey writes in 1994, "in less than a decade, culture has undergone a fundamental shift as the computer embraces an increasing range of tasks."14 Similarly, expressions like "cyberculture" and "hyperculture" or, most poignantly, "wired," have come to represent a lens by which to categorize our current time.15 The concerns about the splintering of our society into an array of cultures, and in this case with dire consequences because of the lessening by some groups of information needed to be societal participants, have led to broad assessments of the potential consequences16 as well as descriptions of what a new "digital literacy" involves.17 Everyone worries, it seems, about being "connected."18 While one problem is the reliability of assessing whether a culture one is immersed in is changing or represents a significant break, another is gauging the implications of the change. Such a perspective can be noticeably anti-historical, simply because many earlier eras bring with them shifts in culture, cultural misunderstandings, and other similar challenges involving the dissemination and understanding of information.

What a Web They Wove in Early America

The European settlement of North America brought with it many cultural barriers involving communication and, except for the issue of digital technologies, problems not unlike what we face today. Historian Karen Kupperman carefully charts the first encounters between the American Indians and the White English settlers by trying to determine how both groups "tried to make sense of what was happening [by looking at the documents emerging from the contacts] and how they attempted to manipulate the elements that contributed to these processes."19 Kupperman's interesting analysis reveals two very different cultures, one relying on the written word (both print and manuscript) and the other existing mostly via oral transmission. While she finds many instances in which the different peoples strove to understand each other or simply reflected deep curiosity about each other (such as with clothing), Kupperman carefully chronicles the struggling means of understanding. While the Europeans created records, the Indians produced wampum belts, symbolic beadwork, painted bark and skins, and tally sticks along with oral tradition -- and the difficulties of comprehending each other becomes more obvious. One can sense in this historical analysis many of the contemporary problems posed by technologists trying to communicate with non-technologists, and vice versa.20

Most interesting, regarding my earlier comments about how one perceives their own time and place, is Kupperman's assertion that there was a substantial difference between the English accounts written at home and those in the colonies: "Books written by armchair travelers, whose epithets are so clear and striking, form a goldmine for modern authors who portray the English as overconfident imperialists, pushing the Americans out of the way without a second thought. But no writer who actually went to America and had direct experience of Indians and their culture wrote in such a simple way. The writing of eyewitnesses shows the strain of their struggle to explain to an uncomprehending English audience just what kind of challenge and opportunity Americans presented."21 Despite the differences of understanding each other and the self-documentation processes, along with the seemingly more powerful forms of recording their encounters possessed by the English, Kupperman concludes that the Indians did not disappear by assimilation, lack of resources, or inferior means of memory. She contends that they "withdrew into enclaves and became invisible to those who did not want to see them. They learned to manipulate the English system and developed mutually beneficial relationships with substantial men who could speak for their common interests in colonial government." They maintained a corporate memory through the development of both traditional means unique to them but also through representation in the records of the European settlers.22

The problems with cultural misunderstandings, revolving to a large extent around information and communication, in Early America is more evident in two other recent books. Jill Lepore's study of King Philip's War, an Indian uprising in New England in 1675-76, is a "study of war and of how people write about it."23 Drawing on private letters, government archives, publications, portraits, and material culture, Lepore provides an interesting contrast between two nations with very different means of communicating and remembering, prompting her to ask -- "If war is, at least in part, a contest for meaning, can it ever be a fair fight when only side has access to those perfect instruments of empire, pens, paper, and printing presses?"24 This historian goes to great pains both to re-examine how the English settlers dealt with the war in their own culture and to re-construct what the supposedly inarticulate Indians thought about this conflict. On a more restricted (in time and place) topic, historian Donna Merwick writes a poignant portrait of the life of Dutch notary Adrian Janse van Ilpendium, whose life and career ends in suicide in 1686 in Albany, New York. The study reconstructs his vocation and the problems he faced when the English took over and Dutch notarial practice was no long supported or authorized. For a while, Janse eeks out a living, even for a time trying to adapt to both the English language and English records systems. As Merwick writes, "Janse's life was inescapably entangled with the English conquest of New Netherland. My purpose in telling his story has been to suggest how subtle and personal that entanglement was . . . The conquered had to read their environment, their social and moral space, in a radically different way."25

These two books move in different directions because of the scope of their topics, but both have interesting ideas to communicate about the impact of major societal or cultural changes. Lepore, in her study, relates how the war, bloody and catastrophic but unexplained as to its immediate origins, was the result of two very different peoples becoming more like each and the friction this caused. The colonists moved farther inland, away from churches and traditional settlement patterns, adopting more and more Indian customs. The Indians, a substantial number at least, were adopting English customs and even learning to read. Yet, we find that many of the European settlers had difficult times expressing the horror of the conflict, while no Indians wrote any accounts. And it is here that we find clues as to the problems generated by major modern technological advances such as the Internet. The two different groups were seeming to become more like the other, but they retained their own forms of communication and the one -- the English with printing -- seemed to win the long-term memory of the war. In the end, it is a lingering lack of understanding that explains the conflict. A hundred and fifty years after the war, the idea of the Noble Savage had taken hold of the American imagination, but the protests of descendants of the tribes which fought in the war on Cape Cod suggest that despite writing and other means there was still a distinct Indian memory (different from the English take on events) about the war. Those who see the Internet, especially the World Wide Web, as a sign of a substantial cultural shift and who worry about the digerati -- the digital elite -- or those cut off from the riches of the present Information Age might take notice that those who control the power of communication systems might be immediate and short-term victors but not necessarily the ultimate victors.

Merwick's study of the Dutch notary is also about cultural shifts, but, because it is focused on the impact of such changes on one life and career, the tragedy and trials are both more powerful and relevant to those reading about it three centuries later. This historian notes that the notary Janse flourishes for a period when the Dutch are in ascendancy and because "men and women want the protection that written documents provide" in the earliest years of establishing the colony.26 As the colony's economic fortunes ebbed and flowed, so did Janse's status since the value of recordkeeping moves with the fluctuations. But the situation becomes more difficult, then desperate, for him as the colony shifts from the Dutch to English. All this is happening while he is getting older and because he is having increasingly hard choices to make about how to survive in the still reasonably primitive environment of seventeenth century upstate New York. The lesson in Merwick's recounting of Janses's life is that "while others [would learn to adapt to the new culture]. . ., he could not."27 Given the volatility of networked digital communications and the many concerns expressed about who has access or not, the potential socio-economic barriers, and what are the skills required to know how to use the Internet and electronic information technology in general, the saga of Janse's life seems even more powerful than looking at the kinds of broad parallels made possible by use of Eisenstein's study. For one, we have many worrying about widening gaps between various social groups who need to use information, and, as well, we see many studies about the degrees of challenges posed to them in coping with the new and ever-changing technical expertise requirements. While I am certainly not suggesting we will see mass suicides because of the digital networked age,28 the story of Janse is a sort of homily about the most extreme responses of people who feel disenfranchised and unable to adjust.

At the beginning of this essay, I mentioned the need for individuals interested in studying and understanding the implications of the present Information Age to adopt not just the more tempting conclusions of sweeping studies like Eisenstein's on the printing press's first years but to consider what relevance micro-history approaches have for understanding the impact of modern information technologies. One of the reviewers of the Merwick book, Cynthia Van Zandt, provides an excellent description of the values of such approaches:

Death of a Notary offers a particularly good example of the possibilities of microhistory, although Merwick never refers to her study in those terms. Merwick's careful reconstruction of Adriaen Janse van Ilpendam's life illustrates the rewards of microhistory's emphasis on rigorous interpretation of small details and small subjects. Merwick notes that van Ilpendam was incidental in the larger course of imperial history. She acknowledges that "England's grand designs did not include his death. He was so incidental" (xv). But Merwick then demonstrates that studying the effects of England's imperial ambitions on van Ilpendam's apparently insignificant life provides an extraordinary window onto the larger world of colonialism and imperial rivalries in seventeenth-century North America.29

Imagine if we had a variety of such close, individual studies documenting each major shift in information and communications technologies -- such as the telegraph, typewriter, telephone, radio, and so forth; then we would have the basis to compare to the present potential transformations (at least, apparent transformations) of the Internet and World Wide Web. This might give us the basis for better understanding how previous eras have used information and dealt with substantial changes in information technologies, allowing us to take a more balanced view about how the continuing developments with digital computers and high speed networks might affect society, its institutions, and its inhabitants.

We can see, in many different places and times, how various forms of communication built new kinds of communities and worked against others, just as has been claimed for the Internet/World Wide Web today. Peter Thompson has demonstrated how the eighteenth century Philadelphia tavern provided a forum in which all social classes converged, shared opinions, and considered matters outside the more regulated spaces of this era. "When Philadelphians chose to drink in a public house, in preference to the home, workplace, or the city's streets, they did so in order to make particular statements and to enact and assess values that seemed distinctive to them."30Thompson also indicates that the "first two or three generations of Philadelphians fashioned from tavern talk and action a realm of discourse that existed outside the effective cultural control of both government and private or domestic authority."31 David Shields looks at coffeehouses, private societies, literary salons, clubs, and other venues for societal communication in the same period. Shields reveals how, even with much more primitive technologies, the eighteenth century was a networked era. "Because of their favor in the eyes of merchants and tradesmen, coffeehouses early on became dispatch points for letters. The transatlantic network of coffeehouses became in effect the collection and dispersion centers for a postal system operated by ship captains."32 Shields also notes how when one system develops, another may appear to offset or correct the changes. For example, as men spent more time in the coffeehouse away from home, the women developed tea circles with their own forms of discourse and communications agenda. Whether in taverns or other areas such as tea circles and coffeehouses, people in eighteenth century America found ways to network and, this is quite important, to challenge existing or sanctioned (by the political and social elite) networks, in just the same manner as advocates of the Web see it as challenge to traditional publishers, government, and other barriers and gatekeepers.33

Everywhere we look, we can find American historical studies suggesting (usually implicitly) that our present communications systems and contemporary promises or worries about them may be nothing new at all. In the nineteenth century, the personal handwritten letter managed to build quite remarkable networks and while the form and content of these epistles often reflect the lack of telecommunications, it is obvious that the receipt of a letter or the act of creating one was an intense form of personalized networking that seems to have a role even today with the Internet. 34The preparation and use of cookbooks was another form of networking in the nineteenth century, as one historian argues, "what we may designate as fairly private activity or discourse (sewing, the writing of letters, contributing to a cookbook) may actually have been seen by women of the past as forms of public participation."35 We can see that in the antebellum period a city like New York was enmeshed in "urban texts" that built community, from books and newspapers to the "writing and print . . . on buildings, sidewalks, sandwich-board advertisements, the pages of personal diaries, classroom walls, Staffordshire pottery, needlepoint samples, election tickets, and two-dollar bills. . . ."36 As such analysis suggests, "despite their anarchic, patchwork character, . . . the flood of written and printed ephemera created a now-familiar language of publicity linking political action, civic pageantry, and commercial promotion, and reinforced the use of the streets for impersonal address."37

Networking as Human Nature

It is difficult for me to see that the characteristic of the present Information Age is its emphasis on the network or networking. The Oxford English Dictionary provides the details on the etymology of this word when we see that its oldest definitions (sixteenth century) relate to the "threads, wires, or similar materials, are arranged in the fashion of a net," then moves to a nineteenth century idea of a "system of rivers, canals, railways" -- much more compatible with the modern connotation of the Internet, and ultimately to the late nineteenth and twentieth century notions of a "system of cables for the distribution of electricity to consumers" and "broadcasting system, consisting of a series of transmitters capable of being linked together to carry the same program." It is not, in fact, that we see the term used for meaning something more akin to the Internet, an "interconnected group of people; an organization."38

Even these dictionary definitions do not help. The implications of the word network or networking is very different today, implying a kind of new, virtual community made possible because of the technical capabilities of the Internet. Even a historian working on periods before the advent of telecommunications can see that "it is perilously easy for people who routinely speak telephonically or who regularly transmit and receive e-mail to assume that all other potential speakers and letter writers are likewise 'wired' -- that telephone and Internet totalize the world. For there remain, of course, large parts of the world unserved by the Internet, and even in affluent Western countries severely marginalized people . . . generally lack access to electronic terminals and are thus excluded from the electronic community. Correspondence nevertheless exists for such people."39 In other words, people will find ways to create networked communities no matter what technologies are there to support them. Are these communities different? Certainly. But they are still communities exchanging information (in some cases, surprisingly large quantities of information).

Different information technologies -- be they based on oral tradition, the printing press, or linked digital computers -- are still extensions of the human being and the nature of homo sapiens. Much of how Eisenstein's study has been co-opted by modern Information Age experts misses the point that networking, communication, and virtual community building all perhaps represent extensions of human nature. Political scientist Ronald J. Deibert asserts, "Communication is vital to social cohesion. The ability to communicate complex symbols and ideas [is this not the essence of modern day networking?] is generally considered to be one of the distinguishing characteristics of the human species."40 While Deibert certainly sees the greater societal implications of modern information technologies because of their speed and power, he also detects continuity, and, more importantly, he resists a "monocausal reductionism," even to the point where he understands that "while communication technologies are important insofar as they are implicated in most all spheres of life, they should not be seen as 'master variables.'"41 In other words, we need to avoid rather glib, even if seemingly persuasive, interpretations of the present effects of the modern Information Age by superimposing historical parallels over the present. We will gain both a better understanding of the past and present.

Thursday, 28 December 2017

Literary and Archaeological Sources of Medieval Indian History

Literary and Archaeological Sources of Medieval Indian History

The literary works of Persian and Arab people are the most important sources of history of the medieval period (the Sultanate period).                                     These Persian and Arabic works can be divided into three broad categories such as –  the chronicles, the travel stories and the modern works.

The Chronicles

Tarikh-i-hind (Literary Works of Al-Beruni)
Al-Beruni, came to India and took up service under Mahmud of Ghazni. He was well acquainted in Arabic, Persian and had a great intellectual in Medicine, Logic, Mathematics, Philosophy, Theology and Religion. During his stay in India he learnt Sanskrit and studied Hindu religion and philosophy.
                                He even translated two Sanskrit works into Arabic. His most important literary work being Tarikh-ul-Hind written in masterly Arabic with great accuracy and scholarly presentation,  gives us  an account of the literature, science and religion of the Hindus of the 11th century. The book gives us an account of India at the time of Mahmud of Gazni’s invasion of India.
Chach-Nama
                  Chach-Nama is a historical work about the Atab conquest of Sindh. The book was originally written in Arabic and later translated into Persian. An account of Sindh before and after the invasion of Muhammad bin Qasim is highlighted in this Chach-Nama. The names of the places and details of important incidents are mentioned in this book. Through Chach-Nama, we get an inclusive idea about Sindh when it was dominated by the Arabs.
Kitab-ul-Yamini
                            Kitab-ul-Yamini by Aby Naser-bin-Muhammad al Jabbarul Utbi , gave us information’s about the reign of Subuktigin and Mahmud of Ghazni up to 1020 A.D.. Utbi has not given us any details, nor gave us the exact dates also. But his work has been considered as one of the most authentic work of the early life and activities of Muhmad.
Khazain-ul-Futuh by Amir Khusrov
                                                              The Khazain-ul-Futuh by Amir Khusrov – an well-known poet of Laureate from 1290 till his death in 1325 and thus was contemporary to all Sultans of Delhi from Jala-ud-din Khalji to Muhammad-bin-Tughluq. As he was an eye witness of most of the happenings his narrative work is of great value.
Taj-ul-Maasir by Hasan Nizami
                                                           In his book Taj-ul-Maasir, Hasan Nizami described the occurrences from 1192 to 1228 and thus became an important account  on the career and reign of Qutub-ud-din Aibak and the early years of Iltutmish. His work is the primary source of the early years of the Sultanate period in Delhi.
Tabqat-i-Nasiri by Minhaj-Us-Siraj
                                                             Minhaj-us-Siraj concluded his famous work Tabqat-i-Nasiri sometimes in 1260 A.D. The book gave us an account of the conquest of Hindustan by Muhammad of Ghor. Minhaj was the chief Qazi in Delhi under Nasir-ud-din Mahmud. His book is a vital source of the early history of Delhi Sultanate.
Kitab-ur-Rahlab
                           Another important work is Kitab-ur-Rahlab a book of travels by the famous Moorish traveler, Ibn Battuta. Travelling Northern Africa, Arabia, Iran and Constantinople Ibn Battuta came to India in 1333. He remained in this country up to 1342 and was appointed by Muhammad-bin-Tughluq, the Qazi of Delhi for long eight years. The Sultan, however, became displeased with him and was dismissed and imprisoned though after some times he was released and sent to China in 1342 as an ambassador. Ibn Battuta wrote his book in Arabic. His work is also primary authority on the reign of Muhammad-bin-Tughluq and also the manners, customs and the condition of India during the Sultanate period. His work, however, suffers from some defects.
Tarikh-i-Firozshahi
                              Zia-ud-din Barani wroteTarikh-i-Firozshahi .  Barani was an exact contemporary of Ghiyas-ud-din Tughluq, Muhammad-bin-Tughluq and Firoz Shah Tughluq. His work started with Balban and came down to the sixth year of the reign of Firoz Tughluq. The work was completed in 1359 and thus was the most important work on the Khalji period, the reign of Muhammad-bin-Tughluq and a part of Firoz Tughluq’s reign. The chief merit of the book is that, as the author held an important post in the revenue department, he was fully acquainted with revenue administration which he has been described in details.
Tarikh-i-Masumi
                          Tarikh-i-Masumi or Tarikh-i-Sindh is another written source by Mir Muhammad Masum or Bhakkra. This book was written sometimes in 1600 A.D.. Tarikh-i-Masumi gave us a in depth history of Sindh from the date of its conquest by the Arabs till the days of Akbar the great Mughal. The book is divided into four chapters. It gave us a clear picture as to how Muhammad-bin-Qasim conquered the land and what was condition of Sindh, just in the eve of Arab conquest.
Other Books
Apart from these works there are other chronicles as well which deserves mention. They include the works like—
  1. Zaina-ul-Akhbar by Abu Said,
  2. Tarikh-i-Masudi by Abul Fazal Muhammad-bin-Husain-al-Baihaqi,
  3. Kamil-ut-Tawarikh by Shaikh Abdul Hasan,
  4. Fatawah-i-Jahandari by Zia-ud-din-Barani,
  5. Futuh-us-Salatin by Khwaja Abu Malik Isami,
  6. Tarikh-i-Firozshahi by Shams-i-Siraj Afif,
  7. The Sirat-i-Firozshahi an anonymous work,
  8. Tarikh-i-Mubarakshahi by Yahia-bin-Ahmad,
  9. Tarikh-i-Salatin-i-Afghana by Ahmad Yadgar,
  10. Tarikh-i-Shershahi alias Tohfa-i-Akbarshahi by Abbas Sarwani,
  11. Makhzan-i-Afghana by Niamatullah and Tarik-i-Dandi by Abdullah.

It should be mentioned that some of the general works composed in the time of Akbar are also useful for this period like Akbarnama and Ain-i-Akbari by Abul Fazal, Muntakhav-ut-Tawarikh of Badaun, Tabqat-i-Akbari of Nizam-ud-din Ahmad and Tarikh-i-Farishta by Hindu Beg. Tuzuk-i-Baburi is also an important work which deals with the history of the closing phase of Lodi dynasty.
Travel Stories
                 The travel-stories written by travelers are of great importance for constructing the history of medieval India. The great Turkish traveler Al-Beruni was one of the earliest travelers in India. His famous work is known as Al-Beruni’s India.
                             The Italian traveler Nicolo Conti travelled India in 1520. He also gave a vivid account of the manners, customs and conditions of the people of India.
                             Domingos Paes was a Portuguese traveler who also visited Southern India. He also left a detailed description of Vijaynagar.
                  Edoardo Barbosa  visited India in 1516 and gave a detailed description of Vijaynagar and Southern India of the period of our study.
                  The world famous traveler Marco Polo visited Southern India in the 13th Century. This travels of Marco Polo is a significant book for the study of Sultanate India. A Persian traveler Abdur Razzaq came as an envoy to the king of Vijaynagar where he stayed for a year from 1442 to 1443. He had given a vivid and realistic account of political, administrative, economic and cultural account of Vijaynagar.
                    There are some literary works as well like Amir Khusrav’s Qiran-us-sadain and Ain-ul-Mulk Multani’s Munsha-i-Mahru which are also worth mentioning works in this regard.
Coins and Monuments
                                      The coins and monuments are important sources for the construction of the history medieval period of India. The Sultans were great lovers of architecture. The architecture which the Turkish conquerors of India brought in this land in the last decade of the twelfth century was not exclusively Muslim or even Arabian. Rather their buildings had the influence of indigenous art traditions.
                 Balban built the Red Palace. Alauddin-Khalji built the Jamait Khan Masjid at the shrine of Nizam-ud-din-Auliya and the famous Ali Darwaja at the Qutub Minar.
                              The Tughluq’s erected the tomb of Tughluq Shah, the city of Tughluqabad and Kuffa Firoz Shah. Sikandar Lodi also built Moth Ki Masjid.
                  Sultan Qutubud-din-Aibak constructed the famous Quwat-ul-Islam mosque at Delhi, the Dhai-Din ka Jhoupra at Ajmer, the Qutub Minar at Delhi.
There are several other like architectures scattered in many provinces like Multan, Bengal, Gujrat, Malwa, Jaunpur, Kashmir and Dakhin also helped us to form a comprehensive idea about the history of the Sultanate period of India.

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