Now You See Them, Now You Don’t: Women in the Inquiry 1917-19

by Professor Kimberly Hutchings

Cynthia Enloe encourages us to ask the question ‘where are the women?’, not only because we should acknowledge women’s role in international politics, but also because the question opens up new angles of inquiry and generates insights that we might not otherwise have (Enloe 2014: 1-36). Women’s presence and women’s absence always tells us something, not only about the gender politics of particular places and times, but about the matrix of material and ideological forces and conditions that shape and are shaped by international politics. 

Recent work in the history of international thought and in international theory has become increasingly aware of the role of research networks, think tanks and conferences in the development of International Relations as a discipline (Guilhot 2011; Parmar 2015; McCourt 2017). In this respect, historians of IR have become more interested in the role of organizations involved in the emergence of IR as a distinct academic field of study by the middle of the twentieth century, as well as in individuals that were prominent within them. This includes organizations such as the US Council on Foreign Relations or the British Royal Institute of International Affairs, set up in the aftermath of WWI, and figures such as the geographer, Isaiah Bowman (1878-1950), who played an influential role in the former (Smith 2003: 192-200; Ashworth 2013). Bowman also played a major role in the committee that preceded the setting up of the Council on Foreign Relations, the deliberately neutrally labelled ‘Inquiry’ (1917-19), set up by Woodrow Wilson to prepare the US recommendations for the peace settlement (Smith 2003: 113-138).

Isaiah Bowman,

Most accounts of the Inquiry stress the role of particular men, such as Bowman or James T. Shotwell (1874-1965). As far as we know, there was only woman member of the Inquiry that went to Versailles, the librarian Florence Wilson, who organized resources for the Inquiry and later became the Head Librarian of the League of Nations Library in Geneva (Huber, Pietsch and Rietzler 2019). For this reason, we may be left with the impression that women had little significant involvement in the Inquiry’s work at all (McCourt 1917). Interestingly, however, according to records from the Inquiry for 1918 although the personnel were male dominated, over and above Wilson, there were at least 28  other white women involved in working for it during the course of that year (Gelfand 1963: 337-342). I was surprised to find this out, by chance, when following a trail researching into Ellen Churchill Semple (1863-1932), a prominent geopolitical thinker, who was invited onto the Inquiry by Bowman (Keighren 2010).

Ellen Churchill Semple,

So, what does finding women working for the Inquiry tell us? Much more research would have to be done to answer this question properly, but here are two suggestions. First, it tells us about the opportunities opened to a particular class of educated white women, offspring of the Progressive era, in a field that had yet to be defined and professionalised. It shows that women played a role in laying the groundwork for disciplinary IR, and how that groundwork was tied up with the world of practitioners and policy-making. Second, in drawing attention to women’s presence it also draws attention to women’s absence. Two kinds of absence are potentially significant here: women with relevant expertise whose application to the Inquiry were refused on grounds of ideology, like Emily Greene Balch (1867-1961), who was too sympathetic to the Russian Revolution to be considered. But there is also the significance of the disappearance of women from representation of the Inquiry at Versailles, and their explicit exclusion from the Inquiry’s successor organisation.

Women’s involvement in the Inquiry reflects a peculiar mix of professionalism and amateurism in the approach to understanding international relations at the time. The point of the Inquiry was to do what we would now call ‘evidence-based’ policy-making. That is to say, to produce reports and recommendations based on expert research on key international regions and issues. Inquiry researchers in 1918 were classified according to functions including working on Africa; Austria-Hungary; Far East; Italy; Latin America; Pacific Islands; Russia; Western Asia; Western Europe; Diplomatic History; Economics; General Research; International Law; Maps-Cartography; Reference and Archives. As historians have noted, Maps-Cartography, formed a particularly key function, since much of the Inquiry was concerned with making recommendations for the drawing of new national boundaries and imperial domains in a world after Ottoman, Austro-Hungarian and German empires (Gelfand 1963; Crampton 2006; Sluga 2006).

Hetty Goldman,

The Inquiry drew on academic expertise primarily in History and Geography. These disciplines had become increasingly professionalised since the 1870s in the US, consolidating their academic identity though professional organisations and university departments, which became forums for theoretical and methodological debate, including between history and geography (Koelsch 2014). It turned out, however, that the East Coast colleges, from which the majority of Inquiry personnel were recruited, lacked specific expertise in modern history, international law and Europe (including modern European languages) and were over-populated by classicists and medievalists. Amongst this population, in a war context in which younger men were often serving in the armed forces, Bowman and Shotwell extended their recruiting efforts to women they knew with academic expertise. This included those with obviously relevant knowledge, such as Semple or Mary E. Townsend (b. 1884), who became a leading expert on German colonialism (Townsend 1928). It also included less obviously qualified candidates such as Hetty Goldman (1881-1972), an archaeologist, who, for the Inquiry, worked mainly on the issue of Alsace-Lorraine (Gelfand 1963: 54) or Ellen Scott Davison (1864-1921), a medieval historian, who was assigned to the diplomatic history section of the Inquiry (Gelfand 1963: 340). Dorothy Kenyon (1888-1972), a recently qualified lawyer with no previous experience of international law, ended up working on Siam, India and the Philippines (Gelfand 1963: 64). In his Foreword to Davison’s posthumously published Forerunners of St Francis and Other Studies (1927), Shotwell comments: “Here the reader has the full benefit of the strictly scientific method, which always based its detail on original sources and not upon the secondary texts of other historians” (Davison 1927: xv). Where substantive expertise was missing, it seems that the Inquiry put its faith in rigorous method, and expected its members to catch up on relevant knowledge (Gelfand 1963: 32-78).  

Ellen Scott Davison,

Women were included in the Inquiry then for a mixture of reasons. They were included because they had already broken through into the academic world and were part of elite university networks, because there were not enough experts to do the work that the Inquiry required, because of personal connections with particular influential men, such as Bowman and Shotwell, because of their expertise as researchers. For some of them, such as Goldman, the work appears to have been effectively a brief summer job, part of various kinds of war work and essentially a distraction from her work as an archaeologist (Mellink and Quinn 2006). For others, the work fed into a feminist internationalist agenda that structured their later career, as with Kenyon’s subsequent activism and her work on the status of women for both the League of Nations and the UN (Weigand and Horowitz 2002).

The presence of elite white women in the Inquiry, reflecting their presence also in liberal elite networks of the time, suggests a decisive shift towards (some) women’s inclusion in communities of international relations research and policy. Yet when the Inquiry moved to Versailles, and when the Council on Foreign Relations was set up, in part as a response to disappointment with the peace settlement, the women involved in the Inquiry largely disappear. Now you see them, now you don’t. Why? Here one would have to go more deeply into the gendered and racialized assumptions of leading Anglophone analysts of international politics in the early twentieth century, including assumptions of many of the women analysts themselves (Gelfand 1963, Smith 2003, Sluga 2006; Vitalis 2015). As Sluga has shown, in spite of increased visibility of women activists at the Versailles conference, the dominant psychological and civilizational terms of the political imagination of nationality at the time reinforced an international hierarchical race/gender/class order. Whether or not women shared this imagination, which many but not all of them did, it enabled playing off factors of race, gender and class against each other at the discretion of elite white men. Within this order, women’s active participation in knowledge production and political action was permissible to the extent it conformed with racial and class privilege. However, this permission was conditional on the interests of dominant actors, who were also happy to use the trump card of the attitudes to women of racially ‘backward’ cultures to deflect demands for an international investigation on women’s suffrage (Sluga 2006: 118). Women could work at the Inquiry, even in the context of prevailing assumptions about the lack of rational capacity of women, because of their position of privilege and because they had the patronage and permission of men. But those prevailing assumptions meant that permission could be withdrawn as easily as it was given.

Florence Wilson,


Ashworth, Lucien M. 2013. ‘Mapping a New World: Geography and the Interwar Study of IR’, International Studies Quarterly, 57, 138-49.

Crampton, Jeremy W. 2006. ‘The Cartographic Calculation of Space: race mapping and the Balkans at the Paris Peace Conference of 1919’, Social and Cultural Geography, 7(5): 731-52

Davison, Ellen Scott. 1927, Forerunners of St Francis and Other Studies. Edited Gertrude R. B. Richards. Foreword, James T. Shotwell. Boston: Houghton Mifflin.

Enloe, Cynthia 2014. Bananas, Beaches and Bases: making feminist sense of international politics Berkeley & LA: University of California Press.

Gelfand, Lawrence E. 1963 The Inquiry: American Preparations for Peace, 1917-19. New Haven and London: Yale University Press

Guilhot, Nicolas (ed.) 2011. The Invention of International Relations Theory: Realism, the Rockefeller Foundation, and the 1954 Conference on Theory. New York: Columbia University Press

Huber, Valeska, Pietsch, Tamson & Rietzler, Katharina. 2019. ‘Women’s International Thought and the New Professions, 1900-1940’, Modern Intellectual History 2019 Online First: doi:10.1017/S1479244319000131.

Keighren, Innes. 2010. Bringing Geography to Book: Ellen Semple and the Reception of Geographical Knowledge. London: I.B. Tauris

Koelsch, William A. 2014. ‘Miss Semple meets the Historians: the failed AHA 1907 Conference on Geography and History and What Happened Afterwards’, Journal of Historical Geography 45: 50-58.

McCourt, David M. 2017. ‘The Inquiry and the Birth of International Relations 1917-19’, Australian Journal of Politics and History, 63(3), 394-405

Mellink, Machteld T. and Quinn, Kathleen M. 2006. “Hetty Goldman 1881-1972” in Getzel M. Cohen and Martha Sharp Joukowsky (eds) Breaking the Ground: pioneering women archaeologists. Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press.

Sluga, Glenda. 2006. The Nation, Psychology, and International Politics 1870-1919. Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan.

Smith, Neil. 2003. American Empire: Roosevelt’s Geographer and the Prelude to Globalization. Berkeley: University of California Press.

Townsend, Mary E. 1928. “Contemporary Colonial Movement in Germany”, Political Science Quarterly 43 (1): 64-75.

Vitalis, Robert. 2015. White World Order, Black Power Politics: The Birth of American International Relations. Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press

Weigand, Kate and Horowitz, Daniel. 2002. “Dorothy Kenyon: Feminist Organizing, 1919-1963”, Journal of Women’s History, 14 (2): 126-131.

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The Gender of Knowledge

by Dr. Sarah C. Dunstan

Middlemarch, Public Domain.

Rereading George Eliot’s Middlemarch recently, I was struck by the following line: ‘Young ladies don’t understand political economy, you know,’ said Mr Brook, smiling towards Mr. Casaubon. ‘I remember when we were all reading Adam Smith. There is a book now.’[1] The context has certainly changed – we are no longer in 19th century England – but these attitudes persisted well into the twentieth century, with significant consequences. Through the research for the current Leverhulme Women and the History of International Thought project, it has become very clear to me that attitudes like this have profoundly shaped how we understand the intellectual genealogies of political economy as well as all kinds of thought in and outside of the academy. As the activist historian Berenice Carroll put it: ‘the class system of the intellect has a long history’ and ‘its relative exclusion of women dates back to ancient times.’[2]

As all of our project members have noted in their respective blog posts, as well as in their publications, women are notably absent from histories of international thought and the discipline of IR. This does not reflect the influence that many women had on international thought in their own time through published scholarship as well as teaching and public commentary. Eliot’s own intellectual legacy, although not in the domain of international thought, is symptomatic of this kind of forgetting. At her death, the historian Lord Action wrote that ‘[i]n problems of life and thought, which baffled Shakespeare disgracefully, her touch was unfailing.’[3] She quickly fell out of favour thereafter, however, remembered for many decades only in terms of what one critic dismissively referred to as her ‘ponderous moral aphorisms and …didactic ethical influence.’[4] Such exclusion was very explicitly gendered – the same critic opened his essay with a reflection on Eliot’s apparently unfortunate looks. It should go without saying that it is crucial that we undo this kind of exclusion and dismissal by recovering the work and historical impact of women’s work. Equally significant, however, is understanding how the process of forgetting women’s contributions has influenced how we understand knowledge formation and dissemination. As a number of scholars have noted in the case of IR, canon construction within the discipline has been so entwined with questions of gender and race that it can quite literally be described as an exercise in mapping ‘relations of descent and influence between [white] men.’[5] 

The quote from Middlemarch struck a particular chord with me because it was so reminiscent of the experiences of three women scholars I had just interviewed for our project’s oral history archive: Janice Gross Stein, the Canadian political scientist and security expert, Karen Mingst, the American political scientist of global governance and Margaret Hermann, the American political psychologist. The first, Stein, told me about her experiences doing field work in the late 1970s whilst she was working on the Egyptian-Israeli war of 1973. As part of this research, she interviewed a number of military officials in Cairo.  The first hurdle that she had to overcome was that she was a ‘Jewish woman… working in international relations’ at a time when there were few women working in the field of security.  She recalled that it took some effort for her interview subjects to ‘get over the fact that I was a woman and they were generals and they’d never had this kind of conversation with a woman before.’[6] When they did, Stein uncovered some brilliant material that overwhelmed ‘whatever discomforts’ she experienced.

In telling me this story, Stein noted that this attitude – the surprise at a woman being interested in and knowledgeable about security issues – was not particular to Cairo. To the contrary, one of her favourite examples of this kind of behaviour came from an interview with a senior Canadian General who asked her ‘What’s a nice little girl like you doing asking these questions?’[7] Karen Mingst met with similar incredulity during her graduate work at Wisconsin in the early 1970s. In the interview, Mingst told me that she still has clear memories of attending one of the core IR classes, Security, only to have the Professor turn to her and say, ‘Why are you taking this class? Women don’t study this.’[8] The Professor in question was male: Mingst herself was one of only three women students in the international relations (IR) programme and there were no women on faculty during her time there.

It is clear that a hundred years after Middlemarch was published, the notion that a woman might not understand political issues still required dismantling. The default assumption was that this kind of knowledge was ‘men’s business’. It is an assumption that Stein also met with when she started appearing as an expert commentator on Canadian national television. This again was ‘a myth busting experience for lots of people’ because it surprised them that the public face of knowledge around war could be a woman.

The subjects of security and war were not the only realms in which women faced stereotypes about appropriate areas of expertise for their gender. During my interview with Margaret Hermann, she recounted a similarly illustrative experience. As an adjunct at Princeton University in 1979, Hermann was charged with coaxing thirty undergraduate students into honing their critical thinking and debating skills through Princeton’s precept system. She began the semester prepared for intellectual and pedagogical challenges but was unprepared for the shocked silence that would greet her first overtures to the all-male class. None of the students in the room had ever been taught by a woman. The categories of “Teacher” and “Professor” and, by extension, the realm of serious knowledge, were therefore implicitly masculine to their minds.  Many of these students would later confide to Hermann that they had never even met a woman in their social circles who worked outside the home. This shock was compounded by the fact that Hermann was also visibly pregnant with her first child. If her students were confounded by the notion that a woman could also be a scholar, they were doubly surprised to discover that a scholar could also be a mother.[9]

Obviously Hermann’s students occupied a very particular elite sphere. Nevertheless, it is worth remembering that for much of the twentieth century – until the late 1960s and 1970s – female students were not admitted to the most prestigious universities in the United States, Ivy League institutions such as Harvard, Yale, Princeton, and Dartmouth. Women attended separate or parallel, all-female institutions for their undergraduate degrees.[10] Oxford and Cambridge in the United Kingdom were similarly constituted by single-sex colleges that demarcated gendered boundaries in knowledge acquisition. Likewise, many postgraduate programmes were reluctant to offer women bursaries if they were married, on the basis that they were unlikely to pursue work other than motherhood. In such a context, it is not hard to see how beliefs around authority and the relationship between expertise and gender come into being.

Thus far I have interviewed eighteen women scholars for the Leverhulme Women and the History of International Thought oral history archive. The women come from throughout the United States, Canada and the United Kingdom and each have very different scholarly trajectories contingent upon multiplicity factors that intersected with their gender. (These include national and ethnic identity, religion, class and sexuality, amongst others.) Their graduate school experiences range temporally from the 1940s through to the 1970s and their chosen areas of specialisation encompass diverse fields. Some have chosen to adopt explicitly feminist analyses to counter and work through obstacles they have encountered by virtue of expectations around their gender and their work. Others have pursued different methodological routes. All have been very successful scholars, latterly recognised as leaders in their respective areas. Without exception, however, they have all had to contend with the relationship between their expertise and their gendered identity as women. We need to take this into account when we read their intellectual work and when we think about the development of the field over the course of the twentieth century. The idea that ‘young ladies don’t understand political economy’ is hopefully a relic of the past. We should not neglect, however, to weigh its impact upon knowledge production within histories of international thought and beyond.

[1] George Eliot, Middlemarch (Hertfordshire: Wordsworth Editions, 1994), 13.

[2] Berenice A. Carroll, ‘The Politics of “Originality”: Women and the Class System of the Intellect,’ Journal of Women’s History, Volume 2, Number 2, Fall 1990, Q137.

[3] Quoted in Roland Hill, Lord Acton (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1999), 303.

[4] On the resurgence of Eliot studies in the 1960s see Ken Newton, ‘Review of Middlemarch: Critical Approaches to the Novel,’ The George Eliot Review 46 (2015): 65-66.

[5] Andrea Nye, Philosophia: The Thought of Rosa Luxemburg, Simone Weil, and Hannah Arendt (London: Routledge, 1994): xiv

[6] Janice Gross Stein, Interview with Sarah C. Dunstan, 19 March, 2019, 13.

[7] Janice Gross Stein, Interview, 14.

[8] Karen Mingst, Interview with Sarah C. Dunstan, 20 March, 2019, 7.

[9] Margaret Hermann, Interview with Sarah C. Dunstan, 17-18.

[10] See Nancy Weiss Malkiel, “Keep the Damned Women Out”: The Struggle for Coeducation (Princeton and Oxford: Princeton University Press, 2016).

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IR’s ‘Power Couples’

By Dr. Katharina Rietzler

When an upstart discipline constructs its own identity, it tends to focus on “great texts” written by scholars whose capacious minds imagined a whole new range of fundamental questions about the world and the human beings that inhabit it. International Relations (IR) is no different. In fact, IR has been notorious for claiming the great minds of great men as its intellectual foundation. But there are costs to such narrow definitions of “thought”. One of them is that a focus on great minds leaves out the element of collaboration. While there are many forms of intellectual collaboration, between peers, between thought leaders and their disciples and between teachers and their students, there is one form that combines the intellectual and the romantic, the marriage of minds.

Twentieth-century thought has known some very high-profile heterosexual couples, from Simone de Beauvoir and Jean-Paul Sartre to Hilary and Ruth Anna Putnam, couples in which both partners achieved intellectual recognition and a public profile. Then there are the many unsung “wives of the canon” (Forestal & Philips 2018), women in traditional marriages who supported their husbands’ intellectual work by providing research assistance, commenting on draft work, typing, entertaining visitors and keeping house. There were also structural reasons why a heterosexual marriage to a scholar could be a disadvantage when it came to women’s intellectual production. In mid-century U.S. academe, women married to male faculty were often denied academic jobs because of anti-nepotism rules, an issue that affected white women more than African-American women seeking employment at historically black colleges and universities (Stephan & Kassis 1997, 59; Perkins 1997, 103).

Yet IR, a relatively young discipline that emerged out of multiple fields of intellectual inquiry as well as activism, seems to have an unusual number of academic “power couples”, heterosexual unions in which both partners shared a deep interest in the relations between peoples, empires and states. In these partnerships, female as well as male partners attained a measure of intellectual standing, if not on an equal footing. Being linked to an influential man could be a way for a woman to attain credibility. The historians Joan Hoff-Wilson and Robert Shaffer have highlighted “the importance of family connections, and male mentors, in the ability of women to become recognized as having something to say about foreign policy” (Shaffer 1999, 157). Intimate ties seem to have been particularly important for women’s knowledge production on international questions.

There are many examples of heterosexual couples in the wider field of International Relations: Lucie and Alfred Zimmern, Veronica Boulter and Arnold Toynbee, Margaret and Harold Sprout, Eslanda and Paul Robeson, Elspeth and Walt Rostow, Annette Baker Fox and William T. R Fox, to name just a few. Gender clearly mattered in these partnerships. William T. R Fox coined the phrase “super-power”, while his wife Annette, a trailing spouse, became a specialist on the foreign policies of small and middling powers. Lucie Zimmern was probably the most reviled woman on the interwar International Relations scene, resented for the access that her marriage gave her to conferences and high-level meetings. And yet she was a published author and specialist on the League of Nations, and, together with her husband, ran the Geneva School of International Studies, one of the most successful IR education projects of the 1920s and early 1930s. Veronica Boulter and Arnold Toynbee enjoyed a gendered working relationship in which Toynbee took public credit for Boulter’s work.

But what impact did these personal relationships have on international thought? Was IR as a field invested a heteronormative and gendered narrative about itself and the world? Is there a gendered division of labour within marriages in the formative years of the field, and were men and women assigned different roles according to perceived notions of masculinity and femininity? (As is well known, some spaces in which international affairs were discussed explicitly excluded women, for example the Council on Foreign Relations, the most influential American international relations think tank between World War I and the Vietnam War.) These are questions that have, to date, hardly been considered by historians of international thought.

Image Credit: Strategic Studies Institute, public domain

Ron Robin’s intellectual biography of one such IR couple forms an exception. Promising to probe the “intellectual balance of power” (Robin 2016, 7) between his subjects, Robin analyses the thought and influence of Roberta and Albert Wohlstetter, a wife-and-husband team of thermonuclear strategists who worked for the influential RAND Corporation think tank in the 1950s and 60s. If an intellectual marriage is a thought collective of two, with a distinctive thought style (pace Mannheim), then, according to Robin, Roberta set the Denkstil of this formidable couple. It was her seminal history of Pearl Harbor as a paradigmatic surprise attack that shaped their world view and created the foundation for the Wohlstetter Doctrine which argued that statesmen must assume that the enemy is irrational, and therefore needed to be deterred as much as possible. Although influential, the doctrine led the Wohlstetters to misinterpret the Cuban Missile Crisis. The disciples they recruited included Paul Wolfowitz, Zalmay Khalilzad and Richard Perle. They resurrected Roberta’s analysis of Pearl Harbor after 9/11, with momentous results in Iraq and elsewhere. Derided as “Mr. and Mrs. Fearmonger” (Bacevich 2017), the Wohlstetters have few fans among critics of U.S. foreign policy but reading Robin, it is impossible to dismiss Roberta, the Bancroft Prize-winning historian who produced usable pasts, as a mere sidekick to her more famous husband.

Although Robin provides little detail on the working, emotional, and marital partnership between Roberta and Albert, there are glimpses of their intellectual life together. Both Wohlstetters were failed academics. Neither completed a PhD and they were employed in various non-academic jobs in the 1930s and 1940s. They had very different backgrounds – Roberta’s was much more genteel than Albert’s – but theirs truly was a meeting of two adventurous if slightly undisciplined minds. It was Roberta, who via a part-time assignment as a book reviewer for the RAND Corporation secured a professional “in” for her husband in Southern California. There they conducted an outwardly conventional heterosexual marriage, with Albert becoming the paradigmatic defense intellectual and Roberta playing hostess in their stylish modernist home.

Returning to Robin’s question about the “intellectual balance of power” within their marriage, I wonder if such an adversarial, “battle of the sexes” metaphor is appropriate. Roberta and Albert were a team, and both benefitted from the operations of gender in the context of their intellectual production. Roberta’s initial analysis made Albert’s hyper-masculine and aggressive take on the Cold War possible. And the delightful contrast between Roberta’s role as elegant Southern Californian housewife and her tough stance on confronting the Soviet enemy as a part-time RAND consultant may have helped her long writing career. Publicly, the couple only disagreed once, when Roberta implied in her final article, published in 1991, that the United States should seek to de-escalate conflicts instead of pushing for regime change abroad (Robin, 199). What happened privately, in the Wohlstetter’s domestic life, remains to be analysed.

What can the story of the Wohlstetters tell us about women and the writing of disciplinary history? The access and credibility that a male partner could provide to a female companion certainly remains important. Intellectual biographies of intellectual couples have the potential to offer more than a calculus of which partner had the more important and influential ideas. And finally, I think, to be wary of facile assumptions about male warmongers and female pacifists, dominant husbands and submissive wives, and the ways in which a gendered division of labour in a marriage maps onto intellectual production.


Andrew Bacevich, “Mr. and Mrs. Fearmonger”, First Things (June 2017)

Jennifer Forestal and Menaka Philips “Gender and the ‘Great Man’: Recovering Philosophy’s ‘Wives of the Canon’”, Hypatia, 33, 4 (2018): 587-592.

Linda M. Perkins, “For the Good of the Race: Married African-American Academics, a Historical Perspective,” in Marianne A. Ferber and Jane W. Loeb., eds., Academic Couples: Problems and Promises (Urbana: University of Illinois Press, 1997), 80-105.

Ron Robin, The Cold World They Made: The Strategic Legacy of Roberta and Albert Wohlstetter (Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 2016).

Robert Shaffer, “Women and International Relations: Pearl S. Buck’s Critique of the Cold War”, Journal of Women’s History 11, 3 (1999): 151-75.

Paula E. Stephan and Mary Mathewes Kassis, “The History of Women and Couples in Academe,” in Marianne A. Ferber and Jane W. Loeb., eds., Academic Couples: Problems and Promises (Urbana: University of Illinois Press, 1997).

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A question of knowing: thinkers, thought and sources in the history of women’s international thought

By Joanna Wood

Review of the workshop ‘Women and the History of International Thought’ held at as part of the Early Career Workshops at the EISA Pan-European Conference 2019, Sofia, Bulgaria

When Sarah Dunstan and I first conceived of this workshop, our aim was two-fold: firstly, to intellectually and practically engage a network of Early Career Researchers (ECRs) working on the area of women and the history of international thought. In an emerging field, such connections are particularly vital as ECRs are less likely to have peers in their own institution or region and connecting with senior academics often involves a significant ‘leap’ across hierarchical divides. However, secondly, and far more basically, we wanted put this topic and these thinkers at the heart of a major International Studies conference because women and gender are not a new presence in international thought, they are constitutive from the beginning.

To this end, we brought together scholars from across Europe and beyond to recover and evaluate historical women’s international thought as well as set the agenda for revisionist histories of International Relations. We also hoped to engage in theorizing the role of gender in the histories of international thought and International Relations.

The first panel aimed to recover historical women as thinkers. Thomas Briggs from the University of Connecticut started us off with Vera Micheles Dean – ‘The great lady of International Relations’, as she was eulogised at her funeral – and her forgotten contribution to Foreign Policy Analysis. Tracing the biographical and intellectual journey of Dean from graduate studies to her long employment at the Foreign Policy Association, he illuminated the personal and professional gendered divisions experienced by women scholars. Reflecting on the legacy of these in the construction of the IR canon, he advocated attending to gender as an organising principle of IR, one holding significant and productive discursive power.  I followed with a connected paper on the ‘Terra Incognitae’  (a term borrowed, in different ways, with different meanings, from Anna Julia Cooper and Robert Vitalis) – the neglected locations of international thought. I discussed how following feminist and black feminist historians and taking racially diverse women as your starting point leads to new locations, specifically women’s colleges and historically black colleges and universities (HBCUs), thinkers and types of thought. Using a case study of the Bureau of International Research at Radcliffe and Harvard, I offered a tentative, pre-archival research analysis of how the lines of gender, race and class shaped the formation, functioning and forgetting of women’s international thought in the US academy from 1919-49.

The second panel, on gendering security and diplomacy, led with Dean Cooper-Cunningham of the University of Copenhagen on visualising insecurities through close examination of posters in and about the women suffrage movement. He argued that we need to look beyond text sources and investigate different types of knowledge production to fully recover historical women’s international thought and break silences. Showcasing the utility and impact of visual sources when looking at suffragist and suffragette approaches to security and insecurity, war and peace, he asked the powerful and searching question: ‘where is the visual in IR?’. Dr Boyd van Dijk of the University of Amsterdam then followed, speaking on gender and women in the 1949 Geneva Conventions. He revealed how the attempt to undo ‘Nazi extremes’ such as mass forced sterilisation after World War II reasserted older sex differences such as pro-natalism that found ‘fighting women’ dangerous to world order and the structure of politics. Through the example of Marguerite Frick-Cramer, the first woman to join the committee of the International Red Cross, he intricately reconstructed how gender operated in the ICRC and through this, the drafting of the Conventions, highlighting the fundamental role of unpaid volunteer female labour. 

Dr Sarah Dunstan’s paper on women, scholarly habitus & the canon of international thought provided a starting point in the third panel for broader discussions on constructing the field. Using the rich resource of oral histories conducted with senior women scholars in International Relations, she made a compelling case for why intellectual history needs to take such sources seriously if it is to truly understand and capture the contributions of women thinkers. Oral histories can get at the silent experience of the world that shapes the output of a scholar that otherwise goes un-noted, especially crucial when dealing with thinkers marginalised in traditional approaches to knowledge production, intellectual history and canon-formation. This led on to a multi-faceted discussion on how we ‘do’ the history of women’s international thought, to which I’ll return.

The undisputed highlight of the day came with Dr Immi Tallgren from the University of Helsinki, who, having been our senior discussant throughout, gave her keynote ‘Absent or Ignored? Women at the Dawn of the Discipline of International Law’. Giving a nuanced and reflexive account of looking for and researching women in the history of international law, she shared how a book chapter became a four year international project and the focus shifted from identifying women to questions of gender, visibility and silencing. She asked how we can move on in mainstream contemporary scholarship from the question of simply the absence of women to one of detail, depth and complexity and how we can “confront the sex and gender marginalisation in intellectual and professional ‘disciplinary’ histories without falling into essentialism, revisionism or hagiography? How to truly address intersectionality?”. The case studies of Katherine B. Fite (US Lawyer at the Nuremberg Trials) and Rebecca West (reporting on Nuremberg as a journalist) provided a captivating journey into how women worked and gender operated in international law in the mid 20th Century. However, even more compelling was the reflection on how looking for women and working on this sort of history becomes inherently political, inherently activist – “writing on women becomes an exercise in writing history from below” and asked the question of all of us ‘is being on the critical margin of scholarship a result of focusing on women and inherent to this?’. This provided both a powerful call to arms and demand for reflexivity from all of us and led to a buzzing Q&A.

Three key themes had emerged through the day and were crystallised in Immi’s keynote: 1. How do we know and identify women in international thought? 2. How do we identify International Relations or International Law and their respective scholars, particularly in relation to intellectual production versus practice and the hierarchies of knowing and doing? And 3. Which sources do we look at and which count as ‘thought’? We’ll be continuing to work on and discuss these as we build our network through online groups and future events. If you’re an ECR and want to be a part of this, please do get in touch! Email me at and I’ll add you to the list.

I want to end with some important and well-earned thank yous: thank you to Jef Huysmans and the EISA ECD committee and group for providing the funding, support and organisation that enabled the workshop to take place. To our hosts,Sofia University, and especially Prokop Kolinsky for his exceptional organisation both before and during the event. To our workshop participants Dean, Tom and Boyd, for making it an incredibly rich and thought-provoking day. To our fantastic senior discussant and keynote Immi, who in her engagement, enthusiasm, deeply thought comments and encouragement provided an exceptional model of mentorship and collegiality. And, finally, and most importantly, to my co-organiser Sarah, for all her hard work and for agreeing to do this in the first place! Thank you all.

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Sex, Gender and the Canon

by Professor Patricia Owens

How and why are women absent from IR’s canon of so-called ‘intellectual greats’? Here I’d like to share some preliminary answers to this question, drawing on work with Kim Hutchings on canonical women international thinkers.

The intellectual identity and respectability of humanities and social science disciplines is formed through the creation of a canon of intellectual ‘greats’ and foundational texts. One of the earliest such works in the history of international thought was published in 1929 by a Cambridge-trained classicist.

The Growth of International Thought surveyed the development of ‘progressive internationalism’ from the ancient Greeks to the League of Nations through an analysis of figures such as Aristotle, Dante, Machiavelli, Luther, Grotius, Rousseau, Burke, Kant, and Mazzini.

Though its author was not seeking to establish a new academic discipline but popularize liberal internationalist ideas (Sluga 2020), the approach of surveying canonical thinkers was later adapted and extended in the numerous studies of important thinkers by those seeking to establish a discipline of IR from the early 1950s (Morgenthau and Thompson 1950; Wolfers and Martin 1956).

Largely for pedagogical purposes, hundreds of exalted thinkers and their main works have been collected in anthologies and analyzed in edited volumes forming the intellectual basis of the many eponymous schools of IR theory: Hobbesian, Lockean, Machiavellian, Kantian, Grotian, Marxist, Weberian, Gramscian and Foucaudian.

The author of The Growth of International Thought, the first of this genre, was not Alfred Zimmern, Gilbert Murray, Arnold Toynbee, or G. Lowes Dickinson, all well-known classical scholars in IR’s intellectual history.

It was F. Melian Stawell (1929), a figure unknown to later generations of IR scholars but who inaugurated a genre – surveys of ‘men of large and capacious thought’ (Thompson 1980: ix) – from which she and numerous other women intellectuals were effectively barred.

A recent study of eighteen surveys of canonical international thinkers working before the late twentieth-century, including several hundred cumulative references, there were nine to women.

In these works, which includes Stawell’s text, only six women receive some recognition as significant thinkers on international relations: Susan Strange, Hannah Arendt, Simone de Beauvoir, Margaret Mead, Susan Sontag, and Virginia Woolf. This does not include a very brief reference in Stawell’s book to the biblical figure of Ruth, with Ruth is taken to foreshadow a liberal internationalist ‘charm of foreign culture’ (1929: 31).

Why are women absent from IR’s canon of ‘serious thinkers’ (Luard 1992: xiii)? On what basis, with what stated criteria, do authors and editors select these thinkers and texts? Examining the rationale for selection in the twenty-two such works, the most commonly cited criteria are influence, comprehensiveness, representativeness, quality, and recurrent themes.

Generations of authors and editors have interpreted these criteria to effectively exclude women from IR’s canon.

The most commonly cited criteria – influence – is construed in the narrowest of terms: prioritizing the influence of white men on other white men.

There are many explanations for why some thinkers appear to be influential to a variety of different audiences and at any given time. However, there is surprisingly little, if any, elaboration of what influence means in IR’s canon. There is no discussion of the means through which influence is felt and on whom, or the temporality and politics of influence. Appeals to influence in surveys of IR’s intellectual canon appear vague and, with one notable exception, avoid the basic question of why some thinkers ‘enjoy successive revivals of interest’ in particular contexts while others do not (Thompson 1980: x).

In the one volume that did offer an additional elucidation, ‘canonical status represents a judgement about the quality of… thought’ (Brown et. al. 2002: 3, emphasis). Influence is a proxy for excellence.

On this basis, Brown, Nardin, and Rengger sought to explain why there were no women among their fifty thinkers; the only explicit attempt to justify women’s exclusion from IR’s canon identified in our survey. In their words,

Because the relevant criteria can change on the basis of current fashions… the fact that all the writers… are white male Europeans might, or might not, be regarded a legitimate criticism. Nonetheless, …[s]ome thinkers clearly have produced more significant work than others and it seems right that this should be recognized in an informal way, always assuming that the canon is never fixed once and for all, and is always open to revision in the way that… in recent years …the names of Wollstonecraft and Nietzsche have been added (2002: 3).

Women were excluded from the largest collection of international political thought then available because they wrote nothing of significance to the history of international thought. Women’s thought is not significant or influential because it lacks quality.

This assumption is wrong.

Not only does it yield an overlapping and predictable list of ‘great’ male thinkers made influential by repetition. It sustains IR’s continued ignorance of women’s international thought, either by denying its existence or denigrating its substance. Significance and influence are a product of the way in which authors and texts are taught and read as much as if not more than the character and quality of the authors and texts themselves.

Canonical status is not a product of a neutral application of the stated selection criteria, but of the gendered and raced politics of expectations surrounding intellectual greatness and influence.

Valuations of influence and intellectual quality, who counts as a serious thinker, is intimately connected to questions of gender and race.

Our findings confirm the feminist historiography in other fields: historical women’s exclusion from disciplinary canons is always more than accidental; it is constitutive (Smith and Carroll 2000). This literature also suggests a variety of responses to the gendered and racialized formation of IR’s canon, ranging from exposing the processes through which diverse historical women were marginalized (Weiss 2009); recovering and analyzing women’s thought (Broad and Green 2009); and reconstituting the disciplinary canon itself (Pollock 1999).

Birthed by Florence Melian Stawell’s The Growth of International Thought, the existing study of canonical thinkers in IR is the study of the passage of ideas between fathers and sons, brothers, male friends and rivals. Like Political Theory, IR’s existing canon accounts only for ‘constitutive relations of descent and influence between men’ (Nye, 1994: xiv).

Typified in Thompson’s (1994) Fathers of International Thought, the obsession with the eponymous schools – Hobbesian, Lockean, Kantian – is openly patrilineal. IR’s ‘great debates’, to extend Carroll’s analysis, are ‘fratricidal struggles… between loyal sons and followers’ battling to ‘inherit and sustain the privileges and ruling power of the fathers’ (1990: 138, 150). If influence is proxy for quality and based on descent through a white male line, then women and non-white men can never legitimately enter the canon of IR’s intellectual greats.

This is confirmed, rather than contradicted, by the six historical women who have made it into IR’s canon: Arendt, Woolf, Sontag, Mead, Strange, and de Beauvoir. All European or North American, White or Ashkenazi Jewish, they appear as either anomalous and extraordinary, feminist, or inventors of their own field.

As Joanna Russ observed in a different context, these ‘women burst into the official canon as if from nowhere – eccentric, peculiar, with techniques that look odd and preoccupations that don’t “fit”’ (1983: 122).  

To prioritize the descent of ideas through a white male line produces an inaccurate, incomplete and distorted account of IR’s intellectual heritage. Women have been excluded on false grounds. The interpretation of the stated criteria is not neutral but deeply gendered and racialized.

The result is that both the exceptional and mediocre work of white males is celebrated and canonized and work of even the most exceptional women is ignored, marginalized and/or demeaned.

Perhaps the appropriate response to the all-male, all-white, and Western-centric canon is to abandon thinking through canons of ‘master’ thinkers. Indeed, there are serious risks in elevating certain charismatic and ‘great’ figures, privileging the already privileged with access to the means of intellectual production. It reproduces problematical assumptions about the heroic character of intellectual work. Singling out paradigmatic thinkers and engaging in lengthy discussions of their texts does little to account for the informal intellectual work of figures who are ‘canon-adjacent’ or ‘wives of the canon’, women collaborators who were central to the production of the ‘great’ texts and men (Forestal and Philips 2018: 588).

So, what then is at stake in the canonization of previously noncanonical thinkers and works if there are problems with the very idea of an intellectual canon?

This Leverhulme Project on Women and the History of International Thought is less interested in debating who is or is not inside the IR canon than in initiating a discussion about the history and accepted form of canonical and noncanonical work. We think this is especially important in a discipline such as IR which has not always taken the history of thought as seriously as it might.

We continue to invest in the terminology of exemplary – canonical – thinkers because it is intellectually and pedagogically indispensable to the reproduction and evaluation of theoretical ideas. But given the arbitrary way in which canons can form the historicity of the canon must be taught as and with the canon; evaluations of intellectual work must be properly contextualized, and our model of serious intellectual work should be dramatically transformed.

The very existence and the nature and form of canonical women’s intellectual work calls into question several of the basic assumptions on which IRs existing canon, and therefore its disciplinary identity, has been built. To notrecover and analyse canonical women international thinkers would be to leave these assumptions in-tact and miss out on the new research agendas engagement with their thought can provoke.


Broad, Jacqueline, and Green, Karen (2009) A History of Women’s Political Thought in Europe, 1400–1700 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press).

Brown, Chris, Terry Nardin, and Nicholas Rengger (eds.) (2002) International Relations in Political Thought (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press)

Carroll, Berenice A. (1990) ‘The Politics of “Originality”: Women and the Class System of the Intellect’, Journal of Women’s History, Vol.2, no.2, pp. 136-163

Forestal, Jennifer and Menaka Philips (2018) ‘Gender and the “Great Man”: Recovering Philosophy’s “Wives of the Canon”’, Hypatia, 33(4): 587-592

Morgenthau, Hans J., and Kenneth W. Thompson (eds.) (1950) Principles and Problems of International Politics: Selected Readings (New York: Alfred Knopf)

Nye, Andrea (1994) Philosophia: The Thought of Rosa Luxemburg, Simone Weil, and Hannah Arendt (London: Routledge)

Pollock, Griselda (1999) Differencing the Canon: Feminism and the Histories of Art (London: Routledge)

Russ, Joanna (1983) How to Suppress Women’s Writing (London: Women’s Press)

Sluga, Glenda (2020) ‘From F. Melian Stawell to E. Greene Balch: International and internationalist thinking at the gender margins, 1919‑1947’ in Patricia Owens and Katharina Rieztler (eds.) Women’s International Thought: A New History (Cambridge University Press forthcoming)

Smith, Hilda L., and Bernice A. Carroll (eds.) (2000) Women’s Political and Social Thought: An Anthology (Bloomington: University of Indiana Press)

Stawell, Francis M. (1929) The Growth of International Thought (London: Butterworth)

Thompson, Kenneth W. (1980) Masters of International Thought (Baton Rouge: Louisiana State University Press)

Thompson, Kenneth W. (1994) Fathers of International Thought: The Legacy of Political Theory (Baton Rouge: Louisiana State University Press)

Weiss, Penny A. (2009) Canon Fodder: Historical Women Political Thinkers (University Park: Pennsylvania University Press)

Wolfers, Arnold and Laurence W. Martin (eds.) (1956) The Anglo-American Tradition in Foreign Affairs: Readings from Thomas More to Woodrow Wilson (New Haven: Yale University Press)

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Holding Up Three Quarters of the World

by Dr. Sarah C. Dunstan

Speaking in 2005, the celebrated African American civil rights activist and politician, Horace Julian Bond, reflected “There’s a Chinese saying, ’Women hold up half the world. In the case of the civil rights movement it’s probably three-quarters of the world.” With the exception of icons such as Rosa Parks, most of the women involved in the civil rights movement of the 1950s and 1960s in the United States are not well known today. Fewer still are recognised for their efforts to link their struggles for racial equality in the United States to internationalist projects, although this is beginning to change through the work of historians such as Keisha Blain, Imaobong Umoren and Jennifer Scanlon. In today’s blog post, I am going to briefly sketch out the internationalist thought and activism of five African diasporic women linked by their involvement in the United Nations and their commitment to racial and gender equality on the world stage: the African American lawyer and diplomat, Edith Sampson; the Martinican activist and journalist, Paulette Nardal, the African American educator and founder of the National Council of Negro Women (NCNW), Mary McLeod Bethune; Bethune’s colleague and fellow activist at the NCNW, Anna Arnold Hedgeman, and the African-American lawyer and activist, Pauli Murray. In so doing, I will also gesture towards the way that their contributions were belittled and elided in their own times.

When Edith Sampson became the first black woman appointed to the permanent U.S. delegation to the United Nations, the sociologist and activist St Clair Drake dismissed her appointment as an act of propaganda on the part of the U.S. State Department, an effort “to offset communism” by painting the nation as racially progressive. It was not, he felt certain, a reflection of Sampson’s expertise.[i] Sampson and other African Americans who believed in the potential of American democracy were commonly labelled ‘the left wing of McCarthyism,’ and thinkers such as St Clair Drake and W.E.B. Du Bois refused to take their political work and thought seriously. Whilst historians have made strides towards recovering the political trajectories of less radical male activists, the work and careers of women such as Sampson seem to have been doubly tarnished by their relative conservatism. One such example of this can be found in the work of historian Gerald Horne, who writes that Sampson was used to “cover up racism and barbarism at home,” and describes her as both a “hired gun,” and a “stooge.”[ii]

Photograph by Carl Van Vechten, 6 April 1949. Public Domain, via Wikimedia Commons.

Regardless of the propagandist intent behind Sampson’s UN appointment or her more conservative political inclinations, the work she did at the United Nations and her conception of the international order still needs to be taken seriously. Moreover, Sampson was hardly an apologist for American racism nor an inexperienced candidate. Although she had certainly had a scant presence in the male-dominated civil rights organizations of her local Chicago, her experience fighting for civil rights and racial justice were far from inconsequential. Born to a launderer in Pittsburgh, she had become a social worker before retraining as a lawyer in her twenties. After graduating, she established a successful private practice and by 1934 had been admitted to practice law before the U.S. Supreme Court. That same year, Sampson had been one of the founding members of National Council of Negro Women (NCNW). An organization dedicated to “the complete integration of Negro women into the American commonwealth, with all normal rights and privileges,” the NCNW was active on both a domestic and international scale. [iii]

From its inception, the NCNW’s founders and leaders – women such as Sampson and Mary McLeod Bethune – had grounded the organisation’s domestic political goals in terms of the international struggle against racism. To this end, the group had sought relationships with women of colour worldwide and, particularly, put great effort into crafting links with women’s groups in India. As one of the organization’s members, a journalist called Toki Schalk, put it in the Pittsburgh Courier, “the world has closed in around us and we are only just so many hours away from every section of the globe. We may as well recognise that what effects Timbuctoo [sic], affects us and vice versa.”[iv] For Sampson, this went beyond acknowledging cause and effect to understanding racism in the United States as a local iteration of a global problem. She came to her position at the UN determined to combine her work for equality with an intellectual commitment to the international project of the institution.

Attempts to undermine Edith Sampson’s contributions to the international arena were characteristic of a broader contemporary pattern of undermining African diasporic women involved with the United Nations. One example can be found in press reactions to 1946 appointment of the Martinican intellectual Paulette Nardal as a specialist on the French West Indies Division for Non-Self-Governing territories. The Chicago Defender, one of the largest and most influential African American newspapers,ran with the headline “Martinique Girl Given High Post With UN Body.”[v] Dismissing Nardal as “a Martinique Girl” was ignorant at best and undeniably patronising. At fifty years of age, Nardal had already had a distinguished international career in journalism and political organisation.

Paulette Nardal. Unknown photographer. (Nombreux sites Internet et ouvrages divers) Public Domain, via Wikimedia Commons.

One of the first black women to be admitted to the Sorbonne, Nardal had been one of the co-founders of the important interwar publication Revue du Monde Noir where she had published on questions of race and imperialism.[vi] In the late 1920s and early 1930s she had also been the secretary to the Martinican Deputy to the French National Assembly Joseph Lagrosilière and a key player in activist organising against fascism in France and world-wide through her work with groups such as the Comité Mondial contre la Guerre et le Fascisme and the Union des travailleurs nègres.[vii] When she had returned from Paris to Martinique during the Second World War, she launched a journal, La femme dans la cité, designed to educate Martinique women in their new role as voting citizens. Far from ‘a girl,’ she was an accomplished intellectual and activist who knew all too well the pressures of nation, race and sex in proscribing the limits of female behaviour and rights. Nonetheless, she was committed to the potential of international organisation and, particularly of the United Nations to be an instrument for “the liberation of all Mankind.”[viii]

Women of the African diaspora like Paulette Nardal and Edith Sampson were a rare sight at United Nations conferences in the organization’s early years. In 1945, for example, Mary McLeod Bethune was the sole African American woman – and one of only three African Americans – to act as a consultant to the US State Department at the U.N.Conference on International Organizations which established the United Nations Charter. Bethune had found it difficult to achieve even this position, only gaining access via her work with the National Association for the Advancement of Coloured People at the last minute. Nevertheless, she took full advantage of the role, bringing fourteen African American women along with her as observers. As far as she was concerned “Negro women, like all other women must take part in building this world, and must therefore keep informed of all world-shaping events.” [ix]

One of Bethune’s friends, and the Executive Director of the NCNW, Anna Arnold Hedgeman, took this sentiment to heart. By the mid-1940s, Hedgeman had already had a great deal of experience in political activism and community organizing on a national level and she was committed to the spirit of internationalism embodied in the organization of the United Nations. When the apartheid regime in South Africa was passed into law in 1948, however, she began to connect her efforts against segregation and racism in the United States to the struggles against racism occurring internationally.[x] Hedgeman became particularly vocal about her understanding of these links in the 1950s and 1960s as countries in Africa gained their independence from empire. In a 1959 article for the black weekly, the New York Age, she mapped out her understanding of the relationship between black Americans and Africa: “We are America’s major link with that ancient civilization, and we also have the opportunity to serve Africa as she develops continuing relationships with the West.”[xi]

Anna Arnold Hedgeman. Image Ownership: Public Domain , via Black Past

For Hedgeman, this link was primarily constituted by a shared political stance of anti-racism rather than a shared racial identity. This was particularly apparent in her keynote talk for the First Conference of the Women of Africa and of African descent held in the newly-independent Ghana in 1960. She was reluctant to affirm her solidarity with the women there on the basis of race but it seemed to her that there was great potential in an international movement grounded in a shared gender identity and shared experiences of discrimination on that basis. To an audience of over one hundred conference delegates, and over one thousand public attendees, she declared “It occurs to me that women have always been in public life, but the men have not always known it.”[xii] Hedgeman meant this both in terms of women’s contributions to international thought and national politics and in relation to more traditional women’s roles. She asked, “What is more important in the world than a housewife?” After all, such a woman “carries the major responsibility for what happens to the rest of us.”[xiii]

In many ways, this integrated understanding of the relationship between domestic and international spheres was reminiscent of the thinking Sampson had espoused a decade earlier, whilst an alternate US delegate to the United Nations. Outlining her strategy for peace in 1950, she wrote: “World security begins at home, where children who are born without racial or religious prejudice either learn it from parents and neighbors or are taught, according to the words of the United Nations’ Charter, ‘to practice tolerance and live together in peace with one another as good neighbors.’”[xiv] For both women, concerns around international security and access to rights had to connect the micro-concerns of family and community to the macro-concerns of global order. Their male colleagues, they felt, were too quick to overlook these so-called “womanly arenas” in favour of discussions revolving around weaponry and military defence. Nardal, too, had published similar opinions in the 1940s, contending that women had an important role to play in ensuring world peace because it was the “feminine vocation” to exercise “a calming influence” upon the warlike tendencies of men.[xv]

Neither Nardal, Sampson nor Hedgeman took this analysis quite so far as Pauli Murray who, in her own speech at the 1960 Ghanaian conference, argued that women of all races and nations shared common ground with Africans because they had all known a history of enslavement. “From these beginnings,” she declared, they could move together “towards equality.”[xvi] Murray dedicated her life to achieving this vision of an internationalist movement united by shared experiences of discrimination on the basis of gender and race. When she returned to the United States in 1962 to play an active role in the Civil Rights movement she loudly criticised the African American male leadership for not acknowledging women’s contributions. In one particularly scathing letter to A. Philip Randolph, a leading organizer of the 1963 March on Washington, she lambasted him for failing to include “a single woman leader.”[xvii] This kind of exclusion was typical of the period despite the large number of black women at the forefront of the struggle.

In the aftermath of World War Two, women like Edith Sampson, Paulette Nardal, Mary McLeod Bethune, Anna Arnold Hedgeman and Pauli Murray sought to make sense of their struggles for against racism within an international framework. In different ways, all five women believed that their identities as women, and women of colour gave their understanding of the world a unique depth crucial to the world-wide fight for equality. Although their expertise and efforts to put their ideas into practice through institutions such as the United Nations were often met undermined by their contemporaries, it is imperative that we take their thought and contributions seriously. It is only then that we will gain a fuller picture of the ways that gender and race operated to shape international thinking in this period.

[i] St Clair Drake, ‘The International Implications of Race and Race Relations,’ Journal of Negro Education 20, 3 (1951): 267.

[ii] Gerald Horne, Who Lost the Cold War? Africans and African Americans, 20 Diplomatic History (1996): 613; 623. For commentary on the way ‘mainstream’ African Americans were characterised see: Manning Marable. Race, Reform, and Rebellion, 33; Helen Laville Scott Lucas, ‘The American Way: Edith Sampson, the NAACP, and African American Identity in the Cold War,’ Diplomatic History, 20: 4, (1 October 1996): 565–590.

[iii] Edith Sampson, Council History 1, Edith Sampson Papers, Box 9, Folder 188.

[iv] “Toki Types,” Pittsburgh Courier, April 21, 1945, 10.

[v] Chicago Defender, December 21, 1946.

[vi] See for example Paulette Nardal, ‘L’Eveil de la conscience de race chez les étudiants noirs,’ La Revue du monde noir, 6 (April 1932): 26.

[vii] A pacifist organisation with international reach, the Comité was dedicated to protesting the Italian invasion of Ethiopia from 1935 through 1939.

[viii] Paulette Nardal, ‘United Nations/Nations Unies,’ La Femme dans la cité, 26, (January 1947), 4.

[ix] “Mrs Bethune Added to Frisco Advisors,” Chicago Defender, April 28, 1945, Mary McLeod Bethune Vertical File, Moorland-Spingarn Research Center, Howard University.

[x] Anna Arnold Hedgeman, “One Woman’s Opinion,” New York Age, April 25,1959.

[xi] Anna Arnold Hedgeman, “One Woman’s Opinion,” New York Age, April 25,1959.

[xii] Anna Arnold Hedgeman, “Women in Public Life: Keynote Address in Ghana,” July 18, 1960, Box 127, as cited in Jennifer Scanlon, Until There is Justice: The Life of Anna Arnold Hedgeman, (Oxford, 2016), 131.

[xiii] Anna Arnold Hedgeman, “Women in Public Life: Keynote Address in Ghana,” July 18, 1960.

[xiv] Edith Sampson, World Security Begins at Home 5 (Oct 19, 1950) Edith Sampson Papers, Box 5, Folder 109, Schlesinger Library, Radcliffe Institute, Harvard.

[xv] Paulette Nardal, ‘From An Electoral Point of View/Optique électorale,’ La Femme dans la cite, 5 (March 1 1945), 3.

[xvi] Pauli Murray, “Speech, Conference of Women of Africa and of African Descent,’” July 18, 1960, Box 40, as cited in Jennifer Scanlon, Until There is Justice: The Life of Anna Arnold Hedgeman, (Oxford, 2016), 132.

[xvii] Pauli Murray, ‘Letter to A. Philip Randolph, 1963’ as cited in Johnetta Betsch Cole and Beverly Guy-Sheftall, Gender Talk: The Struggle for Women’s Equality in African-American Communities (New York: Ballantine Books, 2009), 89.

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Women’s Professions

by Dr. Katharina Rietzler

It is easy enough to assume that few women thought deeply about international relations in the first half of the twentieth century. Analyses of women’s marginalization from diplomacy, academia and intellectual life invite the conclusion that women were not there, bar some exceptional figures. Environments that were conducive to international theorising, the reasoning goes, were at the same time hostile to women. However, bearing in mind recent calls for the social grounding of intellectual history, maybe it is time to begin by studying the audiences and wider publics that women were able to address. In the United States, there were several avenues for women to gain paid employment, a public profile and intellectual recognition in so-called women’s professions. And, from the 1900s, some of these professions ‘went international’. 

Together with Valeska Huber and Tamson Pietsch, I’ve explored the importance of women’s professions for international thought in a recent article in Modern Intellectual History (Huber, Pietsch, Rietzler 2019). Presenting case studies of three American women, we focus on their professional formation and how it shaped their careers and intellectual production. We discuss Fannie Fern Andrews (1867–1950), a schoolteacher and educational reformer whose peace curriculum taught American children how to deal with foreignness at home and abroad; Mary Parker Follett (1868–1933), who originally trained in social work but used her professional formation to rethink international, organisational and interpersonal relations in the context of organisational theory; and Florence Wilson (1884–1977), the chief librarian of the League of Nations, who merged theories of information management with theories of international governance.

These women thought about international society from distinct vantage points opened to them through their chosen professions. They were in active engagement with the ideas of their male contemporaries and sought to write themselves into the early-twentieth century conversation about international politics and institutions. At the same time, their respective professions informed their conceptualizations of international questions. Their ideas, and those of other professional women, we argue, remain to be explored by historians of international thought and a wider, reconceptualised disciplinary history of international relations (IR). Andrews and Wilson currently remain outside the bounds of disciplinary history, while Follett has received some recognition by IR scholars (e.g. Schmidt 1998, 168-71). Foregrounding the professional contexts of Andrews’, Follett’s and Wilson’s international thinking ultimately points to the gendered nature of the disciplinary and discursive boundary making that has characterized IR’s foundation.

Fannie Fern Andrews (Public Domain)

As a co-founder of the American School Peace League, Fannie Fern Andrews regarded the modern teacher as an “international figure” who could instil “the principles of justice, peace and international unity” in children. She argued that “these sentiments can be taught” and provided teachers with pedagogical techniques and contexts in which emotions such as international friendship could become meaningful – a kind of do-it-yourself internationalism to socialize children into what Andrews imagined as the international community. As other white American internationalists at the time, Andrews believed in stark racial and civilizational hierarchies that structured this community. White, native-born Americans assumed a privileged position in it, setting an example to the rest of the world. Andrews’ techniques for encouraging world-mindedness in children and expressing it through concrete experience became popular among American schoolteachers by the 1920s. By that time, however, Andrews made a career change. She had always been interested in international law (in fact, her curriculum had a very legalistic bent to it) and in 1923, she completed a Harvard PhD on the League of Nations mandates regime. Andrews underlined the importance of the experience of American colonialism for analysing the mandates system as a form of imperial reform because of the “transitionary character of the guardianship” in American colonies. Her thesis was “pioneer work”, relevant to historians of US Empire today. However, she could not get it published. In the end, Andrews wrote a new book. The Holy Land Under Mandate combined the reproduction of government documents with autobiographical passages. It pandered to contemporary clichés about the Holy Land but also drew on Andrews’ pedagogical work that emphasised emotion and lived experience. Scholars mocked the “personal and chatty” register and denied Andrews the status of an international relations expert. As an intellectual, she remains relegated to the less prestigious categories of ‘educator’ and ‘campaigner’.

Mary Parker Follett (Image believed to be in the Public Domain, )

The same does not hold true for Mary Parker Follett, who did find scholarly recognition in the field of management and organisational studies. However, her lectures and publications are also highly relevant to early twentieth-century international thought and were significantly influenced by her chosen profession, social work. Follett put forth an inherently social view of the individual that saw the group as central to politics because it was only through the group that the individual could realize freedom and be heard above the crowd. For Follett, all sorts of groups were the foundation of group relations – including international organizations. And the process of “recogniz[ing] and unify[ing] difference” through these groups would, Follett argued, give rise not only to a new kind of national state, but also, “through the further working of this principle,” to a “world-state.” Follett’s themes of authority, function and responsibility, the psychology of control and consent, leadership and mediation appealed to a business and management audience. This was a field that was “blazing new trails” that could also “be applied to government or international relations.” Ultimately, Follett’s approach to power grew from her understanding of human psychology – she advocated not the “balance of power” but instead “a jointly developing power [that] means the possibility of creating new values.” In this way, she argued, human activity could be organised on a world scale.

Florence Wilson, head librarian of the League of Nations Library in Geneva, was also a committed supporter of international organisation but for her, it was the mechanics of information that enabled international decision making and expanded participation in the international community. She was the only woman member of the American Peace Commission at the Paris Peace Conference and was asked to establish the Library of the League of Nations in 1920. Wilson assigned a central role to expertise and information in a complex world in which knowledge was constantly changing and expanding. She believed that librarians should invest time in cataloguing, indexing and guiding researchers to sources, as requests were “for information rather than books.” After leaving Geneva in 1926, Wilson explored other ways of thinking about international information. She wrote The Origins of the League Covenant under the auspices of the Information Department of the Royal Institute of International Affairs, a work that emphasised process, organization, dissenting opinions and structures of power in the crafting of international legal frameworks. Wilson’s concern with the individual’s relation to international information resonates with the focus on political subjectivity and the Deweyan vision of participatory experience that can be found in Andrews and Follett, but Wilson emphasised accessibility. Her thinking about the role of information in international society prefigures not only Cold War approaches to public diplomacy, but also more recent concerns with networks, expertise and publicity. At the same time, the methods she proposed to enable access, the nature of the information she sought to mobilize, and the international community she imagined, exhibited the biases of American liberal internationalism, a trait she shares with Andrews.

Andrews, Follett and Wilson were not the only professional women whose training and experience outside the academic discipline of International Relations and its cognate disciplines in the interwar years (International Law, History, Psychology, Economics and Political Science) shaped their international thought. It also matters that these three women were trained in what is sometimes referred to as ‘service professions’. Indeed, this fact should lead us to question the inside/outside dichotomy that makes it so easy to dismiss these women as marginal to the history of international thought. After all, as their professions were conceptualised as being ‘for others’, they matter deeply to the wider structure that was international thinking in the interwar years.  


Valeska Huber, Tamson Pietsch & Katharina Rietzler, “Women’s International Thought and the New Professions, 1900-1940”, Modern Intellectual History (2019)

Brian Schmidt, The Political Discourse of Anarchy: A Disciplinary History of International Relations (New York, 1998)

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Family, the State and War

by Professor Kimberly Hutchings

Conventional accounts of the history of international thought date recognition of the significance of private/ public distinctions for understanding international politics from the latter quarter of the twentieth century, for example, in books such as Jean Elshtain’s Women and War (1987) or Sara Ruddick’s Maternal Thinking: towards a politics of peace (1989). In this respect international thought is, as so often, figured as rather behind the curve, catching up with the work of feminists in other disciplines. When we think of the preoccupations of IR in the early to mid-twentieth century, we think of Waltz’s famous ‘images’, in which human (read male) nature, states and the international system are constituted as key sources of explanation and normative judgment.

For women international thinkers, however, it has never been so easy to overlook the importance of the organization of intimate relations and how these matter for big picture questions about the state and war and vice versa. Contra Waltz, the individual (man) does not exist in glorious isolation as bad, good or malleable, but is always in relation to others, including, of course, women. This does not mean, however, that women international thinkers from the early to mid-twentieth century interpret the significance of intimate relations in the same way. Some of them, such as Jane Addams (1860-1935), clearly prefigure the arguments of Ruddick. Others, however, such as Eslanda Robeson (1895-1965) and Emma Goldman (1869-1940) have a different story to tell.

In her entertaining piece “If Men Were Seeking the Franchise’, Addams adopts the standpoint of women in charge of families and households to poke fun at men’s standard arguments against women’s suffrage. Addams’s argument creates a parallel world in which women have had the vote and men have been denied it, and contrasts that world with the aggression and waste characteristic of politics as usual.

First, could not the women say: “Our most valid objection to extending the franchise to you is that you are so fond of fighting – you always have been since you were little boys. You’d very likely forget that the real object of the State is to nurture and protect life, and out of sheer vainglory you would be voting away huge sums of money for battleships, not one of which could last more than a few years, and yet each would cost ten million dollars; more money than all the buildings of Harvard University represent, although it is the richest educational institution in America”.  (Addams 1913)

Underneath the fun is a serious argument that the male ‘public’ world needs to learn from the caring and prudential virtues and values embedded in the female ‘private’ one. These virtues and values, when translated into the public sphere give rise, amongst other things, to pacific foreign policy, regulation of dangerous industries, investment in education, and reform of the penal system. Addams’s argument works because the family is defined as inhabiting a separate sphere, one in which the logic of state and war does not, or ought not to, enter.

As with Addams, Robeson frequently points to the ways in which family and household management provide lessons for state and international politics. In Robeson’s case, however, rather than being based on a public/ private distinction, her position relies on the denial of that distinction and the assertion of a strong continuity between the quality of familial, national and international relations. In response to a question from Pearl Buck about how Americans have come to lose ‘our sense of human relationships’, Robeson answers:

Maybe we never had it. We began in this country with slavery, remember. It’s impossible to develop human relationships, or to keep them if we had them, under slavery. Slavery itself is a violation of human relationships, and sets up false standards. (Buck and Robeson, 1950, p.33)

Robeson is clear-eyed about the ways in which raced and gendered international political and economic relations produce and are produced by not only the bourgeois mother but also the utter destruction of any realm of privacy or intimacy for enslaved, exploited and dispossessed women. Rather than a space for nurturing caring relationships, the private sphere in capitalist conditions is the breeding ground of racism and sexism. Thus although on the surface Robeson may sound as if she is following Addams’s lead, she is in fact doing something radically different. For her what is needed is not the exporting of a particular set of values from a distinct private sphere to a public one, but the building of all human relationships on the basis of democracy and equality. In this context the family is a crucial site of world politics because it is the context in which people are inducted into human relations, well or badly.

It is a common error to consider international affairs as remote, in a rarefied intellectual field. Actually international affairs are merely an extension of domestic affairs, which in turn are merely an extension of family affairs and relations with neighbours. (Robeson, 1958, p. 35)

Addams and Robeson both see the family, and within this women and mothers, as potentially playing a significant role in transforming state and world order. Goldman, in contrast, sees the family only as a key site of oppression, and is deeply suspicious of the ‘myth’ of women’s moral superiority, or the idea that they carry distinct values into the public sphere.

The insatiable monster, war, robs woman of all that is dear and precious to her. It exacts her brothers, lovers, sons, and in return gives her a life of loneliness and despair. Yet the greatest supporter and worshiper of war is woman. She it is who instills the love of conquest and power into her children; she it is who whispers the glories of war into the ears of her little ones, and who rocks her baby to sleep with the tunes of trumpets and the noise of guns. (Goldman, 1911 Chapter 9)

For Goldman the family is not a bulwark against state and war, but a key component of state power. A central aspect of this is the control of women’s sexuality and reproduction.

The defenders of authority dread the advent of a free motherhood, lest it rob them of their prey. Who would fight wars? Who would create wealth? Who would make the policeman, the jailor, if woman were to refuse the indiscriminate breeding of children? (Goldman, 1911, Chapter 11)

The family is a site for the reproduction of capitalism and war not only because it literally reproduces the population, but because it produces men and woman as puritans and patriots, disabling their capacity to think and act as individuals. Family relations oppress women, but women are also complicit in their oppression, particularly middle class women such as Addams, who embrace the task of regulating other people’s lives. Goldman dismisses the campaign for women’s suffrage as a struggle for ‘the “privilege” of becoming a judge, a jailor or an executioner’. If one is to revolutionise the world then woman must embrace her own freedom.

Her development, her freedom, her independence, must come from and through herself. First, by asserting herself as a personality, and not as a sex commodity. Second, by refusing the right to anyone over her body; by refusing to bear children, unless she wants them; by refusing to be a servant to God, the State, society, the husband, the family, etc., by making her life simpler, but deeper and richer. That is, by trying to learn the meaning and substance of life in all its complexities, by freeing herself from the fear of public opinion and public condemnation. Only that, and not the ballot, will set woman free, will make her a force hitherto unknown in the world, a force for real love, for peace, for harmony; a force of divine fire, of life-giving; a creator of free men and women. (Goldman, 1911, Ch 9)

Whatever one’s views as to Addams’s, Robeson’s and Goldman’s arguments, they were all drawing attention to the importance of the relation between intimate and international relations well before Enloe reminded us that the ‘personal is international’ (Enloe 1989). Does this matter for those of us working on these issues today? Arguably, it does matter in two ways. First, the way we tell the story of feminist IR tends to perpetuate a teleological narrative through stages from ‘add women and stir’ to more sophisticated decolonial or queer feminist perspectives. This is a narrative that just does not stand up once we look at the actual history of women’s international thought in 1913, never mind in the 1980s (see Hemmings 2011). Second, in their substantive claims, all of these thinkers underline the ways in which the exclusion of ‘family’ or the ‘private’ from the examination of ‘state’ and ‘war’ disables our capacity to understand or change the world around us.


Jane Addams (1913) “If Men Were Seeking the Franchise”, Ladies Home Journal (June). Available at:

Pearl S. Buck and Eslanda Goode Robeson (1950) American Argument (London: Methuen & Co.)

Jean Bethke Elshtain (1987) Women and War (Chicago: Chicago University Press)

Cynthia Enloe (1989) Bananas, Beaches and Bases: making feminist sense of international politics (Berkeley: University of California Press)

Emma Goldman Anarchism and Other Essays, 1911. Available at:

Eslanda Goode Robeson (1958) “Women in the United Nations”, New World Review, Vol. 26 (March): p.33-35.

Clare Hemmings (2011) Why Stories Matter: the political grammar of feminist theory (Durham: Duke University Press)

Sarah Ruddick (1989) Maternal Thinking: toward a politics of peace (Boston: Beacon Press)

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On the Heirs to Agnes Headlam-Morley

By Professor Patricia Owens

We currently know very little, and certainly not based on archival work, about the history of women’s international thought inside the Anglo-American academy, the dominant locations of disciplinary IR. Academic women are only one – but an obviously important – part of the story of how women in the past thought about relations between peoples, empires, and states. In this blog post, I share some very preliminary findings, based only on a small portion of the British side of the archival work for this part of the Leverhulme Research Project.

First consider a puzzle. In IR’s intellectual and disciplinary history, women appear to be less present between the late 1940s and 1980s than at any time in the first half of the 20th century (Owens, 2018). This is puzzling because we tend to think of women’s position as improving through the course of the twentieth-century, especially as their access to higher education increased. So why does their position seem to regress in IR?

To illustrate, a very large proportion of what today we would consider core IR subject matter was taught by women scholars from as early as 1904 when Lilian Knowles began teaching imperial and great power economic history at the LSE.

Lilian Knowles

Women were among the first appointed to the earliest IR departments in the 1920s, such as Lilian Friedlander in Aberystwyth and Lucy Philip Mair, again at the LSE. In the United States, women’s international thought was institutionalised, most significantly at the Bureau of International Relations at Radcliffe College, in existence from 1924 until 1942. While there is no British equivalent, women’s colleges in Oxford and Cambridge appointed historians to teach international relations.

There is remarkable continuity between the interests of very many of these academic women and today’s core IR subject matter. Consider just two of the substantive themes and scale of global historical processes.

One, of course, was the mutual constitution of international and race relations. Outside the academy, for ‘race women’ activist intellectuals such as Claudia Jones, international meant neo-colonial relations. Inside the academy, Merze Tate, partly trained in Oxford, combined analyses of racial hierarchy with a quite realist approach to diplomatic history. What I’ve called ‘white women’s IR’ in Britain largely centred on the imperial background of diplomatic history and colonial administration, including works by Lilian Penson, Margery Perham, Lucy Philip Mair, Sybil Crowe, Mary Proudfoot, and Agatha Ramm. Clearly, their marginalization in IR’s intellectual and disciplinary histories is partly explained by this substantive focus. Imperial-international relations was itself later erased from IR’s disciplinary history (Vitalis, 2015).

But another prominent theme that fascinated early academic women makes their absence from IR’s intellectual and disciplinary histories much more difficult to explain. This is the centrality of power-political and geopolitical relations between different kinds of polities. Early geopolitical thinkers, like Ellen Churchill Semple, economic historians, like Knowles and Eileen Power, and diplomatic historians like Elizabeth Wisekmann and Tate, centred their analyses on the role of geopolitical/international (as well as imperial) relations in shaping national polities and economies. So how do we explain their marginalization given the substantive focus on IR’s core subject of power politics and diplomacy?

Part of the answer is related to a third preliminary finding and to assumptions about the fields and approaches through which a separate IR discipline should be formed. It is here that we can begin to address the puzzle of historical women’s partial presence in pre-disciplinary IR and a seemingly greater absence from the late 1940s to 1980s.

The vast majority of the IR women we’re finding in university and college archives were trained as historians engaged in often very practical and always empirically-grounded research. In contrast, the professionalization of academic IR involved a conscious break away from diplomatic history, especially in Britain. From the 1970s, IR largely organised itself around a set of ideological ‘isms’ and ‘Schools’. Diplomatic history was caricatured as incapable of advancing ‘theory’, the level of abstraction necessary for a distinct theory of the ‘international system’. This marginalized all of the women mentioned above. Unsurprisingly since it mirrors what we already know about the history of History and Sociology, it is starting to look as though the carving out of a distinct IR discipline was a gendered process.

Consider one of the most disparaged figures in the break from diplomatic history, Agnes Headlam-Morley, the first women to become a full Professor at the University of Oxford. She held the Montagu Burton Chair in International Relations between 1948-1971. An historian of Anglo-German relations and one-time would-be Tory MP, at Oxford she was a famed salon hostess and College woman.  

The consensus among the chroniclers of IR’s history is that she failed to develop the subject because she continued to view IR as a subfield of History. In Ian Hall’s words, Headlam-Morley was ‘a staunch opponent of the study of contemporary international relations, let alone the use of newfangled social scientific methods’ (2012: 53). In any case, for Martin Ceadel, Agnes’s intellectual interests were ‘inherited’ from her father, James, an historian and senior civil servant who helped draft the Treaty of Versailles (Ceadel, 2014: 189). On this account, IR’s fortunes only revived after Agnes’s retirement in 1971 and the return to Oxford of Hedley Bull, who held the Montagu Burton Chair between 1977 and 1985.

Agnes Headlam-Morley painted by
Lutyens, Robert; St Hugh’s College, University of Oxford.

For others, the stakes were even higher than the fate and methods of a fledgling discipline. Headlam-Morley appears on the very last page of Carroll Quigley’s infamous book, The Anglo-American Establishment: From Rhodes to Cliveden,on the Anglophone network seeking to establish global racial supremacy through imperial federation. ‘[T]he great idealistic adventure which began with Toynbee and Milner in 1875 had slowly ground its way to a finish of bitterness and ashes’ when this ‘middle-aged spinster… with one publication to her credit’ sat in the Oxford chair (1981: 310).

I focus on Agnes Headlam-Morley not to endorse her international thought, a ‘great man’, ‘great power’ kind of history, and certainly not her politics. Nor because those dreams of imperial federation have been revived in Brexitland with talk of ‘Global Britain’ and the ‘Anglosphere’. And it is only partly to point to the obvious misogyny in how she is discussed, most clearly by Quigley, as well as the gendered and constitutive marginalization of diplomatic history in the process of making ‘disciplinary IR’.

Rather it is because the disparagement of Agnes Headlam-Morley, who supervised Merze Tate, seems to be more than ironic today. For it is not at all clear that the most significant and interesting international relations scholarship today is being conducted by the heirs to those who broke from diplomatic history to forge a new discipline of IR. Indeed, such work is just, if not more, likely to be pursued by the heirs to Agnes Headlam-Morley, and indeed Merze Tate: contemporary practitioners of the new international and global history.

Historians have long moved away from the study of diplomatic relations, narrowly conceived, towards the historical understanding of international and global dynamics, working with the many thematic, conceptual and theoretical moves that IR scholars import.

If there ever was time that IR could point to the outmoded character of diplomatic history as the raison d’être for a separate discipline that time has long past. As IR continues to move beyond and slowly recover from its ‘grand theory wars’, embracing mixed methods and genuine interdisciplinarity, it could do worse than enter into new and productive conversations with earlier generations of women thinkers, such as Headlam-Morley and Tate, who were constitutively marginalized in the process of what should be, but is not yet, the academic home of the best international relations scholarship.

Through this Leverhulme project, it’s been an absolute pleasure to work alongside contemporary scholars of the new international and global history, Headlam-Morley’s other heirs.


Ceadel, Martin (2014) ‘The Academic Normalization of International Relations at Oxford, 1920–2012: Structures Transcended’ in Christopher Hood, Desmond King, and Gillian Peele (eds.) Forging a Discipline: A Critical Assessment of Oxford’s Development of the Study of Politics and International Relations in Comparative Perspective (Oxford: Oxford University Press), pp.184-202

Hall, Ian (2012) Dilemmas of Decline: British Intellectuals and World Politics, 1945-1975 (Berkeley: University of California Press)

Quigley, Carroll (1981) The Anglo-American Establishment: From Rhodes to Cliveden (New York: Books in Focus)

Vitalis, Robert (2015) White World Order, Black Power Politics: The Birth of American International Relations (Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press)

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On the Recovery of Female Scholarly Habitus:

by Dr. Sarah C. Dunstan

The 15th January this year was the 100th anniversary of the assassination of Rosa Luxemburg. A commemorative procession through the streets of Berlin to the Friedrichsfelde cemetery where she was buried attracted the attention of the international press and the last few days have seen a proliferation of articles on the activist. Luxemburg is one of the canonical thinkers in our project so I was curious to see how she would be popularly remembered. After all, as Patricia Owens observed in an earlier blog post, Luxemburg is one of the few women to appear in histories of international thought, even if these mentions are usually very brief.

One key theme seemed to underpin most of the commentary: Luxemburg was an exception to the rule. In a Guardian article on the German commemorations, Mark Jones from the University College Dublin described her as ‘a high achiever who rose in the very male-dominated world of Social Democratic politics.’ In Zeit Online, Robert Misik calls her ‘a kind of a miracle’ for making a name for herself at a time when women were supposed to take second seat to men, particularly in intellectual spheres. In their article in the Conversation, historians Ingrid Sharp and Corinne Painter underlined the way that Luxemburg is treated as exceptional. They used the anniversary as an opportunity to draw attention to female German revolutionaries who have been written out of history. Some, like the writer Lola Landau who envisioned the German revolution as an opportunity to create a new world order based on tenets of peace, left published, if overlooked, political tracts behind. The experiences and thought of other activists they work on, such as Martha Riedl and Hilde Kramer, are accessible primarily through their memoirs and eye-witness testimonies. None of these women, however, succeeded in establishing themselves within the masculine landscape of revolutionary thought in the same way as Luxemburg. This is not reflective of the significance of their contributions. But it does tell us something important about how we think about the categories of ‘thinkers’ and, in this case, ‘revolutionaries.’ One of the objectives of Sharp and Painter’s own research is to encourage us to stop thinking about revolutions and revolutionary thought as primarily male spaces.

There is a pattern here that is important for the research objectives of our Leverhulme project on Women and the History of International Thought. From the beginning we have argued that one of our driving questions is not ‘why women have not contributed to international thought?’ but ‘what happened to historical women’s international thought?’ We are interested not just in the recovery of thinkers who have been lost but, amongst other things, in understanding why they were lost in the first place. Key to creating such an understanding is thinking through the way we describe intellectuals such as Luxemburg as thinkers who have excelled despite masculine norms.

In a 2011 article in History & Theory, Herman Paul called for philosophers of history to look beyond the published output of historians. For Paul, histories of the discipline and its methodologies would be incomplete without the acknowledgement of what he called the ‘historian’s “doings.”’ Production of knowledge, he argued, begins to look quite different when we inquire into the ways that ‘scholarship is embedded in ‘practices’ or ‘epistemic virtues’ (Paul, 2011: 1). Such doings or virtues are embedded in ‘routinized forms of behavior,’ associated with each discipline.  Paul’s thinking has a longer history. Italian Idealist Benedetto Croce made this argument for history when he insisted that historical process, like humanity, “has no being except in the making of it, and the making of it is never a making in general but a determinate and historical task.’ (Croce, 1955:274). Croce’s contemporary, the French historian March Bloch made a similar observation when he wrote in his Apologie pour I’histoire, ou , metier d’historien (1941) that historical scholarship required a particular ‘intellectual ethic.’

In order to answer the research problematic of ‘what happened to historical women’s international thought?’ then we need to establish an understanding of the ‘epistemic virtues’ and ‘intellectual ethics’ presumed to underpin the category of international thought and international thinkers.  Gender is the silent cornerstone of scholarly practice. As we have seen in the commemorative comments about Luxemburg, the fact of her historical gender makes her the exception that proves the rule of masculine thinking.

Finding the answer to what happened to historical women’s international thought thus requires us to re-fashion how we think about the categories of ‘intellectual,’ ‘international’ and, indeed, ‘women.’ One way of doing this, is to be more expansive in our approach to where we look for international thought. Whilst activists like Rosa Luxemburg and Lola Landau or political scientists and historians such as Anna Julia Cooper and Merze Tate (whom Katharina Rietzler wrote about last month on this site) published within more conventional academic outlets, the contributions of other female thinkers to international thought appear in alternate mediums. The French-Congolese Senator, Jane Vialle, for example, published in the French language resistance journal Combat and the newspaper she founded herself, the Journal de l’Association des Femmes de L’Union Française. Likewise, the African American activist Eslanda Robeson published many of her pieces in magazines such as Asia and America and Challenge as well as in travel and ‘talk-book’ formats. As Kim Hutchings explained in her recent post on this site, another such medium often utilised by women thinkers is that of the novel. Intellectuals such as Bertha Von Suttner and Ayn Rand mapped out their visions of the international through this form. Expanding the canon of international thought to include such pathways is crucial to the intellectual project of the history of women’s international thought because of the sheer reach of gendered exclusion. This goes some way in explaining why Luxemburg and Tate have some, albeit peripheral and recent, presence in disciplinary histories in ways that other historical women do not.

But this still only gives us an insight into the published form of women’s thought. Writing about race, bell hooks has written about how “black folks have, from slavery on, shared in conversation with one another ‘special’ knowledge of whiteness gleaned from close scrutiny of white people. Deemed special because it was not a way of knowing that has been recorded fully in written material, its purpose was to help black folks cope and survive in a white supremacist society.” (hooks, 1992: 165). This notion of ‘ways of knowing’ can also help us understand how historical women experienced intellectual spheres at the intersection of race and gender. I think it is past time for intellectual history to include those ‘ways of knowing’ that are not recorded fully in written material yet shape the development and transition of ideas and thought.  This is true for race and gender as well as sexual identity. Publication is shaped by factors that go beyond the authors desire to transmit a certain idea to the page: career trajectories, personal concerns and concepts of audience shape those ideas scholars feel are necessary or, in a different frame, permissible to share.

So what tools can we use as historians to gain greater insight into the production of knowledge, to ways of knowing that have shaped the field of international thought? One answer, I think, lies in oral history.

Historically, there has been a great deal of opposition to the use of oral history to draw out anything more than the personal recollections of an individual. Scholars attempting to write intellectual or disciplinary histories, as we are here in this project, have been far more circumspect in deploying them. Historian AJP Taylor famously described the practice as ‘old men drooling about their youth.’ (Harrison, 1972-3, 4.) In a more recent Guardian interview, Niall Ferguson declared that ‘Oral history is a recipe for complete misrepresentation because almost no one tells the truth, even when they intend to.’

Nevertheless, social historians, particularly those whose research concerns traditionally marginalised groups and individuals such as people of colour, members of the LGBTQ community and women, have long made the case for oral history in its value as an instrument of recovery. It provides a means through which the historical record can encompass their experiences despite a lack of textual records or as a counterpoint to material that privileges the perspectives of those in power. The Italian pioneer of oral history, Luisa Passerini, framed it in terms of the need to recognise ‘a subjective reality which enables us to write history from a novel dimension undiscovered by traditional historiography. This will avoid its nature of piling up facts and its failure to make explicit the political nature of all historical writing, while also presenting in the concept of subjectivity a tool of analysis peculiarly appropriate to social history.’ (Passerini, 1979: 86)

Oral sources then, might prove a way into an intellectual history of the discipline of International Relations which does not simply involve the recovery of ‘forgotten women’ but which teases out the structures of gender, racialization and class in shaping disciplinary genealogies. I contend here that oral history is a useful tool of intellectual history, not as a tool for establishing authorial intent but as a means of illuminating the specific context in which particular actors generated thought. It gives us an insight into institutional structures and cultures, the historically contingent notion of the IR practitioner or scholar or author or intellectual and their practices. When we place it alongside the recovery of materials not traditionally considered as spaces for international thought, then a much richer picture of the field will emerge.

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