sprouts of capitalism

I am grateful for the kind replies I received to
my query here and privately.


| jim, first, it is necessary to clarify which _thinkers_ you have in
mind
| that you think are associated with the _English model_. then, we can
| discuss it. which historiographic models seem inappropriate to you?
could
| you please provide specific names and intellectual traditions?
| regards,
|
| Mine Doyran

This is a basic point, Mine, of course.
I am basically coming from a reading of Blackbourn and Eley's _The
Peculiarities of German History_ and also from a Liah Greenfeld's
_Nationalism: Five Paths to Modernity_. The first uses the term
"British model" to delineate and critique the assumptions of German
historical arguments which find Germany lacking a liberal
institutions: a parliamentary tradition and the organs of civil
society (pp. 70-71). Eley here notes that this model has long been
called into question by social historians of England but still acts
(acted ca 1983) as normative setting the standards of German
historical debate for certain major scholars, at least.
I follow this out of interest in Korean historical debates--also a
little dated in Korea now (and in crisis) but still influential. In
Korea the major interpretive tradition of internal development theory
tries to find in Korea's indigenous history, ca the 18C or so and
quite prior to the advent of the West, bourgeois-type actors who can
be credited with proto-capitalism and early initiatives towards civil
or non-state social institutions, as well as differentiation in class
structure, technological innovation in agrarian, commercial, and tax
systems--nothing like a full industrial revolution, of course--just
sprouts of a potential modernity. I will not go into detail but you
can see the way a "national" model of development is being applied
here.

The continuing force of what Eley termed the "British societal model"
is seen in Greenfeld's book, which got a good reception. It is a fine
text and I want to give her credit for much of it, which I enjoyed and
learned from. Greenfeld argues that the model of the nation, stemming
from England (which she tellingly terms "God's firstborn" in a subtle
argument on the links of religion and nationalism) proceeded through a
series of copies from France, Germany, Russia, and to the US. England,
for example, has particular merit as the birthplace of a rational way
of life as is evidenced in its superior language--destined to spread
to the world. Now this
process of copying was one of deterioratoin in the quality of the
copy--and she employs the notion of ressentiment to characterize this.
Each nation gets a little more sour, less liberal, and more nasty as
the process unfolds. (I may not be being quite fair here, but that is
the gist of it at points.) Except finally, with the arrival of a truly
multi-ethnic nationality, the US, there is some major innovation and a
new promise for the liberal project beyond the old style of homogenous
nationalism. Her argument has lots of merit, but not from this
particular viewpoint, I think.
I find it ironic that both England and the US are for her models,
while the rest are submerged in a politics of ressentiment. This
echoes the notion of Western vs. Eastern (or poltical vs. cultural)
nationalism of Hans Kohn--the former being integrative and civic while
the latter is divisive and violent, torn by ethnic strife. This is
clearly orientalist, in my view.
In other words, there is still a strong general committment to a sense
that England did something first, did it on its own, and had no hand
in the lasting structural effects (ie the ressentiment generated in
the process, not that I follow Greenfeld's views on this) except as
historical ideal type and model to be emulated. It is my understanding
that a ws perspective, and I would add a postcolonial one, would see
Britian (I should be saying Britain here, I guess) and the prestige of
the British revolution into a liberal modernity as very much an effect
of ideological dominance in some sense rather than a result of actual
democratic practice.
This is an old discussion, I think, but I am interested in
looking at it in terms of its nationalist implications, which may put
new light on the terms of the debate. I think it is relevant to the
Korean case I am looking at now and would like to strengthen my
argument. That may clarify things a little--I am not prepared to
defend a particular model (England is by no means my field), but would
appreciate suggestions or responses as its impact was fairly key in
Korean historiographic developments.
Sincerely,
Jim Freda