Kristin L. Hoganson

The Inland Globalists

Many Americans have the impression that the American Heartland, defined as the Prairie States, or as those states bound by the Appalachians on the east and the Rockies on the west, as insular and provincial, as a place deeply rooted in boosterish Americana. However, those who have lived in these states for any length of time know that such a description doesn’t capture the true spirit of the place. These people know that even those living and working in the lightly populated towns and on farms are as much globalists as those living on the coasts. The plight of farmers caught up in the current administration’s trade wars should disabuse anybody clinging to the notion of an isolated midland. And if that isn’t sufficient, well, then there is Kristin Hoganson’s new and fine history of the world at the doorstep of mid America, The Heartland.

Hoganson, a professor of U.S. history at the University of Illinois, in Champaign-Urbana (about as deep in the heart of America as you can get), starts at the beginning, the very beginning, when Native American tribes roamed the heartland. She focuses on the Kickapoos who hunted far and wide over the mid lands, until white pioneers poured into their land and drove them out onto reservations in the Southwest, and pushed some into northern Mexico, a sad tale of cultural destruction she narrates well. These settlers came from the East, but also from northern Europe. Engaged in dividing the land, possessing it, cultivating it, and breeding animals for mass consumption, these settlers reached across the ocean, to the old country, for stock and capital. She illustrates this globalism in many ways.

To mention two prominent examples, she spends considerable time on hog breeding, specifically the imperial pig, the Berkshire Hog. You’ll learn quite a bit about animal husbandry, but you’ll also see how people in the middle of America drew from overseas to improve their stocks and their fortunes. Then there is the Illinois Central Railroad, famously the subject of Steven Goodman’s song “The City of New Orleans.” This all-American rail line was the first land-grant railroad in the U.S. However, though granted 2.5 million acres by the Illinois legislature, to get going, the company needed capital. When it couldn’t get it from New York investors, it turned to London. Eventually, the British took control to get their hands on the land. They imported capital and labor from Ireland. Going full circle, so to speak, the Canadian National Railroad now runs the all-American Illinois Railroad. These tales and more make for fascinating reading and support the idea of the interconnectedness of people.

Now, Americans seem to hate talking about racism, probably because the majority of people don’t like thinking of themselves, or their ancestors, as racists. However, racism is a forming feature of the U.S., even embedded in our most cherished (though little read) founding document, the U.S. Constitution. Hoganson is not one of those people who shy away from the subject. Her extensive coverage of the near annihilation of the Kickapoo people is at its heart murderous racism. Racism was a dominant aspect of heartland life. So ingrained was it that it reached into every aspect of life, even the breeding of hogs. While breeders liked the Berkshire hog for many reasons, including snobbery, they didn’t much care for the black tint of its skin. And so they worked to breed it white. To quote the American Swine and Poultry Journal and Hoganson, “‘Some of our best breeders are now getting their best pigs with a nearly clear or white skin and black hair, which makes them very attractive, much more so than a dull black skin.’ Since skin coloring had no intrinsic economic value in a dressed animal, Berkshire breeders’ efforts to whiten their animals can be attributed to their investments in white supremacy.” No words minced there.

All in all, readers wishing another viewpoint on the American heartland and the international nature of American life throughout our history as a nation, these readers will find The Heartland a worthwhile adventure in American history.… (mais)

The Inland Globalists

Many Americans have the impression that the American Heartland, defined as the Prairie States, or as those states bound by the Appalachians on the east and the Rockies on the west, as insular and provincial, as a place deeply rooted in boosterish Americana. However, those who have lived in these states for any length of time know that such a description doesn’t capture the true spirit of the place. These people know that even those living and working in the lightly populated towns and on farms are as much globalists as those living on the coasts. The plight of farmers caught up in the current administration’s trade wars should disabuse anybody clinging to the notion of an isolated midland. And if that isn’t sufficient, well, then there is Kristin Hoganson’s new and fine history of the world at the doorstep of mid America, The Heartland.

Hoganson, a professor of U.S. history at the University of Illinois, in Champaign-Urbana (about as deep in the heart of America as you can get), starts at the beginning, the very beginning, when Native American tribes roamed the heartland. She focuses on the Kickapoos who hunted far and wide over the mid lands, until white pioneers poured into their land and drove them out onto reservations in the Southwest, and pushed some into northern Mexico, a sad tale of cultural destruction she narrates well. These settlers came from the East, but also from northern Europe. Engaged in dividing the land, possessing it, cultivating it, and breeding animals for mass consumption, these settlers reached across the ocean, to the old country, for stock and capital. She illustrates this globalism in many ways.

To mention two prominent examples, she spends considerable time on hog breeding, specifically the imperial pig, the Berkshire Hog. You’ll learn quite a bit about animal husbandry, but you’ll also see how people in the middle of America drew from overseas to improve their stocks and their fortunes. Then there is the Illinois Central Railroad, famously the subject of Steven Goodman’s song “The City of New Orleans.” This all-American rail line was the first land-grant railroad in the U.S. However, though granted 2.5 million acres by the Illinois legislature, to get going, the company needed capital. When it couldn’t get it from New York investors, it turned to London. Eventually, the British took control to get their hands on the land. They imported capital and labor from Ireland. Going full circle, so to speak, the Canadian National Railroad now runs the all-American Illinois Railroad. These tales and more make for fascinating reading and support the idea of the interconnectedness of people.

Now, Americans seem to hate talking about racism, probably because the majority of people don’t like thinking of themselves, or their ancestors, as racists. However, racism is a forming feature of the U.S., even embedded in our most cherished (though little read) founding document, the U.S. Constitution. Hoganson is not one of those people who shy away from the subject. Her extensive coverage of the near annihilation of the Kickapoo people is at its heart murderous racism. Racism was a dominant aspect of heartland life. So ingrained was it that it reached into every aspect of life, even the breeding of hogs. While breeders liked the Berkshire hog for many reasons, including snobbery, they didn’t much care for the black tint of its skin. And so they worked to breed it white. To quote the American Swine and Poultry Journal and Hoganson, “‘Some of our best breeders are now getting their best pigs with a nearly clear or white skin and black hair, which makes them very attractive, much more so than a dull black skin.’ Since skin coloring had no intrinsic economic value in a dressed animal, Berkshire breeders’ efforts to whiten their animals can be attributed to their investments in white supremacy.” No words minced there.

All in all, readers wishing another viewpoint on the American heartland and the international nature of American life throughout our history as a nation, these readers will find The Heartland a worthwhile adventure in American history.… (mais)

Interesting take on the “heartland,” specifically Illinois around Springfield. Although transnational histories usually focus on borders, Hoganson argues, that actually helps reinforce the idea of an unpenetrated “heartland,” which couldn’t be further from the truth. Illinois was constantly both influenced by and influencing the rest of the world—driving Native Americans out, seeking to build a world-class university using new principles from Germany and elsewhere, seeking markets for farmers, seeking new breeds of animals and plants for farming, and so on. The most interesting tidbit about how racism works: white farmers didn’t like pigs with black coats and spent considerable time and resources on whitening the pigs through breeding, even though the coat had no relationship to the quality of the flesh, so that they could tout the whiteness of their pigs.… (mais)

The author demonstrates that the Midwest (the Heartland) was not the isolated, insular place of myth. Indeed it had airplanes, telephones, immigrants from Europe, European breeds of farm animals, and even residents who traveled abroad. The better universities (or at least their schools of agriculture) had graduate students from around the world. Although the author may not have intended as much, her tone can sound a bit condescending to those of us who have spent our lives in the central United States. Furthermore, the choice of details to relay can seem idiosyncratic. Why so much attention to Berkshire hogs and not to other European animal breeds or to the continental human immigrants who played such a large role in settling the Midwest? In all, a source of some interesting information, but little more.… (mais)