Picking any single year in history as a focus for study and explanation for a wider interpretation of trends and developments that spread over decades is always a fraught proposition. It’s easy to pick years that have become famous as “turning points” (e.g., 1914 as the start of WWI, 1968 as a year of domestic political upset in the US, France, and Czechoslovakia). History, however, happens every day; and every year is filled with milestones in trends and events from which we can characterize cultures and eras. As long as we don’t overload any particular event with significance and remember that we’re just taking an illustrative snapshot.
A couple of years ago, I developed a world history teaching unit around the year 1905; connecting events in Japan, British India, Russia, and England as markers of the nature of modernity. 1905 wasn’t such a well-known year as years go, which was an important part of why I chose it.
In my current course on Early Modern Europe, I will be highlighting the years 1453 and 1776 as bookend years for this period and geography. I’ll talk about 1776 in a few weeks. Today, I’ll focus on 1453 and the challenges of periodization.
Before I get into the specifics of why I think 1453 is a especially significant year (or, at least, one that is especially interesting to talk about), I should clarify that “periodization” is the term historians use to describe how they pick the beginnings and end of particular period. It’s an important part of the process of defining the scope of a book or a course. It’s pretty much of a non-issue if you’re talking about the Soong dynasty, or the Roosevelt Presidency, but periodization gets contentious when historians debate the start or end dates of periods whose significance depends in part on whether certain events or developments are to be include, e.g., the “Scientific Revolution” or World War II. In the later case, some start with the beginning of WWI in 1914, some pick the rise of Hitler in 1933, some choose 1935 as the start of the military confrontation between Japan and China, some go with the 1939 start of war in Europe, and others, focusing on the US experience, start with Pearl Harbor in 1941. It all depends on what the historian’s argument is about the nature and significance of the origins of that war. In other words, periodization is an integral part of historical interpretation.
In the case of Early Modern Europe, there are extensive debates about both the start and end points. Most college course catalogs use 1500 as a demarcation between ancient and modern, mostly because it’s a nice round number and there are any number of reasonably events that together can be used for the starting/ending point. 1500 makes more sense for European focused history (e.g. “Western Civ) than for world history and, increasingly, instructors have stretched the starting point of the latter (“modern”) period earlier and earlier.
In my newest course, I’ll be using 1453 as the demarcation. There are several events that make it useful as a “hook,” even if these events and developments slop over into surrounding years and decades. First, there’s Gutenberg and his Bible. The development of printing and its spread across Europe and then the rest of the world changed just about everything and, in many senses, hasn’t been matched for impact until the computer/AI era in which we are immersed. Printing and the (democratizing) distribution of information were essential parts of the rapid development of science, the spread of Protestantism, the plausibility of democracy as a political form, and the restructuring of societies and economies around the world.
Second, a couple of days before Gutenberg “dropped” his new Bible, the English lost a battle to the French at Castillon. This effectively marked the end of the “100 Years War,” and closed out a chapter of the overlap of interests, land, and battles which had occupied the nobility of those two cultures (neither was quite yet a coherent country) off and on since William sailed from Normandy and took over parts of Britain in 1066. This enabled them each to focus more at home, although they continued to fight regularly through the end of the 19C. It certainly didn’t mark the end of European warfare either, but the political structure of Europe went off in a radically different tangent than if the English had won (a sort of “anti-Brexit,” if you will).
Third, 1453 was also the year that the Ottoman Turks finally conquered Constantinople, solidifying their control over the Eastern Mediterranean region and, importantly forcing Europeans to look to develop other routes to the riches of Asia and the “East.” The series of expeditions and explorations launched by the Portuguese, the Spanish and later, the English and French connected the world for the first time, and provided the platform for overseas empires, trade, and the concentration of wealth which are only now being rebalanced.
My fourth event for 1453 was less dramatic. The Italian artist Donatello completed a remarkable statue in Padua that was a hallmark of the emerging style. It combined innovative technology and an aesthetic that deliberately echoed classical Roman works. The “Renaissance” is one of those periods over which historians argue endlessly as to periodization, but this is a convenient starting point for this profound cultural development.
Not bad for one year (actually, just a couple of months in the summer).
Was this set of events a coincidence? There isn’t much to connect them. The trick is to see if there were some deep and apparently disparate movements in history of which these are merely the items that popped to the surface. Regardless, they provide a focal point for the huge heap of people, events, and developments that constitute history. Since (whether we’re talking books or classes) we have to put some limits on how much time we take up for our audience and some thematic starting points for discussion, I’ll be using 1453.
A couple of years ago, I developed a world history teaching unit around the year 1905; connecting events in Japan, British India, Russia, and England as markers of the nature of modernity. 1905 wasn’t such a well-known year as years go, which was an important part of why I chose it.
In my current course on Early Modern Europe, I will be highlighting the years 1453 and 1776 as bookend years for this period and geography. I’ll talk about 1776 in a few weeks. Today, I’ll focus on 1453 and the challenges of periodization.
Before I get into the specifics of why I think 1453 is a especially significant year (or, at least, one that is especially interesting to talk about), I should clarify that “periodization” is the term historians use to describe how they pick the beginnings and end of particular period. It’s an important part of the process of defining the scope of a book or a course. It’s pretty much of a non-issue if you’re talking about the Soong dynasty, or the Roosevelt Presidency, but periodization gets contentious when historians debate the start or end dates of periods whose significance depends in part on whether certain events or developments are to be include, e.g., the “Scientific Revolution” or World War II. In the later case, some start with the beginning of WWI in 1914, some pick the rise of Hitler in 1933, some choose 1935 as the start of the military confrontation between Japan and China, some go with the 1939 start of war in Europe, and others, focusing on the US experience, start with Pearl Harbor in 1941. It all depends on what the historian’s argument is about the nature and significance of the origins of that war. In other words, periodization is an integral part of historical interpretation.
In the case of Early Modern Europe, there are extensive debates about both the start and end points. Most college course catalogs use 1500 as a demarcation between ancient and modern, mostly because it’s a nice round number and there are any number of reasonably events that together can be used for the starting/ending point. 1500 makes more sense for European focused history (e.g. “Western Civ) than for world history and, increasingly, instructors have stretched the starting point of the latter (“modern”) period earlier and earlier.
In my newest course, I’ll be using 1453 as the demarcation. There are several events that make it useful as a “hook,” even if these events and developments slop over into surrounding years and decades. First, there’s Gutenberg and his Bible. The development of printing and its spread across Europe and then the rest of the world changed just about everything and, in many senses, hasn’t been matched for impact until the computer/AI era in which we are immersed. Printing and the (democratizing) distribution of information were essential parts of the rapid development of science, the spread of Protestantism, the plausibility of democracy as a political form, and the restructuring of societies and economies around the world.
Second, a couple of days before Gutenberg “dropped” his new Bible, the English lost a battle to the French at Castillon. This effectively marked the end of the “100 Years War,” and closed out a chapter of the overlap of interests, land, and battles which had occupied the nobility of those two cultures (neither was quite yet a coherent country) off and on since William sailed from Normandy and took over parts of Britain in 1066. This enabled them each to focus more at home, although they continued to fight regularly through the end of the 19C. It certainly didn’t mark the end of European warfare either, but the political structure of Europe went off in a radically different tangent than if the English had won (a sort of “anti-Brexit,” if you will).
Third, 1453 was also the year that the Ottoman Turks finally conquered Constantinople, solidifying their control over the Eastern Mediterranean region and, importantly forcing Europeans to look to develop other routes to the riches of Asia and the “East.” The series of expeditions and explorations launched by the Portuguese, the Spanish and later, the English and French connected the world for the first time, and provided the platform for overseas empires, trade, and the concentration of wealth which are only now being rebalanced.
My fourth event for 1453 was less dramatic. The Italian artist Donatello completed a remarkable statue in Padua that was a hallmark of the emerging style. It combined innovative technology and an aesthetic that deliberately echoed classical Roman works. The “Renaissance” is one of those periods over which historians argue endlessly as to periodization, but this is a convenient starting point for this profound cultural development.
Not bad for one year (actually, just a couple of months in the summer).
Was this set of events a coincidence? There isn’t much to connect them. The trick is to see if there were some deep and apparently disparate movements in history of which these are merely the items that popped to the surface. Regardless, they provide a focal point for the huge heap of people, events, and developments that constitute history. Since (whether we’re talking books or classes) we have to put some limits on how much time we take up for our audience and some thematic starting points for discussion, I’ll be using 1453.
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