Green Disaster Proofing: A Retrospective
Draft 12/19/09
Charles Geisler
Cornell University
©
Abstract: Land allotment is an important form of greening—reconnecting people with
soil and nature on farms and garden plots. The historical context for such greening has
often been social crisis, including war and military recruitment, with precedents going
back to the Roman Empire. This chapter reviews several long-term, system-level crises
triggering land allotments: empire overextension, war-induced insolvency among
nations, and, most recently, industrial dystopias. Long before the American frontier
became a safety valve for factory workers determined to homestead, land allotments
were used politically to preempt societal upheaval and, conversely, to precipitate social
reform. These historical experiences offer a lens for understanding contemporary backto-the-land movements in the context of the social crisis.
Forthcoming chapter in Greening in the Red Zone:
Vulnerability, Resilience, and Urgent Biophilia (2010)
Edited by Keith G. Tidball and Marianne E. Krasny
“As the manufacturing nations of West Europe are meeting with steadily growing
difficulties in selling their manufactured goods abroad, and getting food in exchange,
they will be compelled to grow their food at home; they will be bound to rely on home
customers for their manufactures, and on home producers for their food. And the
sooner they do so the better.”
Peter Kropotkin (1912:80-81)
Introduction:
The thesis of this chapter, that human communities recover from disaster conditions by
returning to “nature” in one or another form, has historical predicates. Green disaster
proofing, as I call this phenomenon, is not new.
Much as it may sound like counter-
culture jargon or Homeland Security script,1 the practice reaches back across many
generations in response to human-induced crises of major significance. In this chapter I
pose homesteading as a stock form of social resilience to widely different crises. While
the continuity of homesteading as a land-based response to crisis is remarkable, even
more remarkable is its longevity across strikingly different social formations and ruling
philosophies. Despite the tendency to associate homesteading with frontiers, that is, as
a transitional land use policy for populating “empty” spaces, homesteading is in fact a
deeply embedded response to social crisis, only some of which plays out on the world’s
frontiers.
Homesteading takes place in many forms, from massive land reforms to modest
encounters with nondescript urban space. Predictably we measure homesteading
success in terms of people settled or acres transferred rather than catastrophes averted
and national emergencies contained.
A year or two ago a friend working with
immigrants in Toronto told me of an elderly man who arrived from Eastern European
with only the proverbial clothes on his back. With much determination he set about
1
See Homeland Security Today, October, 2009, for a special feature issue on the
greening of U.S. Homeland Security.
looking for a small amount of land in a vacant lot to rent, borrow, or squat. The clothes
on his back, it happened, were his key to survival. Prior to leaving his homeland he
sewed dozen of seeds into his garment hems. These seeds were his insurance policy,
his disaster proofing, his green dream. If all else failed, he would mix this modest
collection of DNA with a patch of land and free sunlight to leverage a second chance at
life. The lesson here, though seemingly about perseverance and ingenuity, is in fact
about survival in alien environments with brutally imperfect information. To green the
red zone is to meet threat by turning to an old ally, the soil, and warding off the slings
and arrows of uncertainty so often encountered by immigrants and other vulnerable
populations.
My plan in this chapter is to make sense of homesteading as green disaster proofing in
three distinct historical eras. The first is the late Roman Empire; the second is the
period of post-Westphalian nation-building; the third is the turbulent epoch of early
industrialism. In each era, land becomes a lever for thwarting major calamity—empire
overextension, nation-state insolvency in war time, and capitalist dystopia leading to
urban squalor. In each instance large populations accepted land allotments or invented
homesteading rituals to save themselves from peril. The first two examples are
decidedly top-down—elites foreseeing imminent danger and making land concessions
to placate masses and avert social disorder. The third example is quite the opposite and
chronicles the restless restructuring of society from below. Herein, humans struggled
well into the twentieth century to de-alienate themselves and their communities by
recovering land and nature.
Homeland Security, Roman Style
Not infrequently one finds societal evolutionary accounts with homesteading narratives.
In these accounts, nomadic people who survive the ice-age find sedentary life-ways that
include crop domestication and primitive private property (e.g., North and Thomas,
1973). As these settlements spawn surpluses and new divisions of labor, subsets of the
population are weaned from agriculture and go about building evermore complex
settlements. To be civilized, dictionaries tell us, is to live in cities; to remain rural is to
be a rube or a rustic. And so, in much western thought, homesteading and farming are
vestiges of the past, demeaning and inferior forms of existence.
Modernization is
indexed by the proportion of people gathered in cities and divorced from the toils of the
countryside.
This recurring narrative has certain truths, to be sure. Yet it is inattentive to existential
crises in the metropole brought about by any number of flaws in the logic of imperial
growth and sustenance (Wallerstein, 1983). A telling example was the over-extended
Roman Empire. Harbingers of trouble first appeared in the Republic and were, in part,
related to the concentrated ownership of farmland. Though some commoners held
land, it was expensive to maintain and often passed into patrician hands; aristocrats
measured their status in land holdings and slaves, among other things. Roman elites
also usurped public lands, causing further tensions between the two classes and
eventual civil war in the last century of the Roman Republic (Hopkins, 1978). The
Imperium Romanum was to follow.
The territorial footprint of the Roman Empire reached its maximum size under Emperor
Trajan, approximating 6.5 million km² of land (Parker, 2009). The seeming success of
the Empire unleashed a crisis in governance. Defending this vast domain could not be
done from the cities or even the regional capitals; it became, de facto, the task of
military generals, surveyors, and logitians. Following the civil war, Octavian reduced the
Roman legions from 60 to 28 and eliminated those whose loyalty to Rome was in doubt
(Goldsworthy, 2003). The wisdom of this policy was tested in AD 9, when Germanic
tribes annihilated three Roman legions in the Battle of the Teutoburg Forest. Thereafter,
the number of legions would increase to around 30, but with this twist: the soldiering of
these legions now depended on the conquered tribes themselves for replenishment.
The lure was land allotments.
In 1891 Max Weber wrote his doctoral thesis at the University of Berlin on Roman
agrarian law and land policy in the Empire. With copious references, he explored
Rome’s strategy to use land surveys and ownership opportunities to stabilize peripheral
areas. Military veterans were an important case.2 They were allotted land for service in
the provinces, a reward of much value given the paucity of available land within the
Empire, not to mention the status and security that accompanied land possession.
Moreover, Weber suggested that land allotments were an important tool of frontier
pacification and incipient privatization (Weber, 1947).
As the expanding Empire
outgrew its capacity to police and control, it offered German tribesmen land in
exchange for military service. The crisis of homeland over-extension was met with a
homesteading solution calculated in security terms.
So the grand narrative’s unidirectional logic is more complicated than it appears. In
times of crisis land allotment and settlement became a means of pacifying the frayed
edges of Empire. In the process, it assimilated the Germanic “other” and earmarked
land as core to the emerging social contract. It was a logic that would continue on in
feudal and post-feudal Europe.
Green Gold for Soldiers
Land allotments for military service, originally something of an emergency measure,
further formalized during the Holy Roman Empire and became a hallmark of European
feudalism. The Roman practice of commendation was an early version of knighthood
wherein a Roman soldier gave himself to a superior officer or liege-lord, promising
service in return for support, usually a land allotment known as a benefice, complete
2
Inspiration for this thesis came in part from the eminent August Meitzen (see Roth and
Wittich, 1978:3).
with serfs (Ganshof, 1964). In return, each warrior would use the land to empower
himself and elevate his status, until he himself had retainers pledging fealty to him.
Thus, feudalism grew on the back of land allotment contracts made possible by an
evolving pyramid of military life and land assembly that reproduced itself over and
over.3
So what Weber observed in the late Roman Empire would become formulaeic in the
aftermath of Empire. Dominion over people meant dominion over land, land being a
principal form of wealth.
Such was the thirst for land that war was ongoing.
The
Treaty of Westphalia in 1648 ended the Thirty Years War as well as the Holy Roman
Empire, but not the reliance on warfare as a means of dispute settlement (Hehir, 1995).
As the architecture of governance shifted to state-centric rule, crisis shifted to the cost
of maintaining state armies at home and in new colonies.
The states that emerged
from Westphalia conformed to the earlier practice of compensating their militias and
officers with bounty lands seized in military campaigns (Bokstruck, 2007). Land grants
were an inducement for armies to dispossess other nations and settle their lands (Tilley,
1985). In the absence of victory, states released crown or public lands at home to pay
their armies, especially in times of state insolvency.
Quid pro quo land arrangements of this sort marked both British and American history.
From Nova Scotia to Florida, the British Crown awarded land to approximately 6,500
soldiers and sailors for service in its colonial wars. Grants of land were generally made
on the basis of rank and occasioned migrations when veterans received allotments in
other colonies. After losing their American colonies, Britain established the Swan River
Colony in Australia in 1829, and used land grants to attract military and non-military
settlers alike (Appleyard and Manford, 1979). Settlers were granted land in proportion
3
See knight.http://historymedren.about.com/cs/knightsarmor/a/kl2origins.htm
(accessed on 12/15/09)
to their assets and labor potential; full title was often withheld until they had sufficiently
"improved" their allotment and created a revenue base for colonial administrators.
Starting in 1803 in Tasmania, land allotments were given to free settlers, convicts whose
sentences were completed, and military personnel in such places as Sullivan's Cove,
Hobart Town, Port Dalrymple and Launceston.4
Because of the vast endowment of frontier lands in North America, the United States
established formal military districts from which to pay officers and soldiers of the
Revolutionary War. Connecticut, the Carolinas, Virginia, Rhode Island, Georgia, and New
York all met their war debts to soldiers through military bounty lands (Orfield, 1915).
The first Continental Congress framed the federal government's land disposal policies
within the Articles of Confederation and the Land Ordinance of 1785, and in 1796
Congress provided 2.5 million acres for veteran settlement.5 The parallel between
American handling of land on contested frontiers and that of the late Roman Empire
was probably not accidental. Jefferson read widely about Roman land survey and
allotment practices in their provinces during his ambassadorship to France in 1784 and
may well have imported this crisis management strategy into U.S. law upon his return
(Marchener, 1959; Kennedy, 2003). Military districts would later appear in Minnesota
and Illinois to accommodate soldier land needs following the war of 1812 (Chenoweth
and Semonis, 1992).
As late as World War I nations continued to use land allotments as an enticement to
would-be soldiers. In 1916 Britain passed the Gifts for Land Settlement Act for
Scots volunteering to serve in His Majesty’s Forces against Germany. The urgency of
such a law was heightened by persisting agitation for land reform in the Highlands
(Leneman, 1989). The government’s commitment slowed following the war, however,
in part because the allotments were to come from large estates. Yet when war veterans
4
The Tasmanian Archive and Heritage Office holds indexes for these early land grants
(see http://www.statelibrary.tas.gov.au/familyhistory/fillinggaps/land)
5
See http://www.ohiohistorycentral.org/entry.php?rec=1312 (accessed 12/15/09).
protested, reminding the government that they were trained in the use of weapons, the
government complied. Between 1915 and 1930 some 3600 new holdings were created
in Scotland for verterans (Mather, 1978; Leneman, 1989). In the United States land
allotments for military service all but ceased in the twentieth century, though the GI Bill
of 1944 (granting World War II veterans mortgage subsidies) was a stepchild of
allotment policies going back, it should now be clear, nearly two millennia.
Greening in the form of land allotments has not always been about reclaiming nature
per se.6 Its less explicit political motivations are worth summarizing. The Romans and
their successors found that successful military expansion and land policy went hand-inhand. In bestowing land, elites got tribute, obedience, willing armies, and the spoils of
empire. Those receiving land got sustenance, protection, new rights of the realm, and
land for their heirs. Land allotments were more instrumental than aesthetic, more
linked to control from above than to conservation from below. This was soon to
change, however. Urban-industrial capitalism would alter land’s value as a factor of
production and the place of land allotments in the social ordering.
“Land is the Peoples’ Farm”
Late eighteenth century Britain bore witness to yet another “army” yearning for land, an
army born of expanding industrialization and proletarianization.
Time and again,
working people and their bourgeoisie spokespersons (at times including capitalists such
as Robert Owen and Henry Ford) proffered new community blueprints combining
“factories and fields.” Allotments were now a response to another kind of crisis. From
its inception, the industrial revolution
6
was reproached by poets, artists, and
If Simon Schama (1995) is correct, the Romans associated the German tribes—their
esteemed but mortal enemies—with nature and forest and viewed them as the worse
for it.
intellectuals lamenting the disappearance of nature and the alienation of its working
people. Allotments were windows on forsaken pastoral culture and a weapon for those
dispossessed of their landed birthrights. Their prophets included William Godwin and
William Morris, Robert Owen and Thomas Spence, Peter Kropotkin and George Henry
Evans, and their followers extended to Chartists, Zionists, land reformers, social
planners, and untopian social engineers (Sakolski, 1957).
Green disaster proofing preoccupied each of these reformers.
Each shared a
communitarian vision of horticultural-industrial harmony in which artisans and working
people met their creature needs through a decentralized factory system interspersed
with gardens and farms. In contrast to the top-down resettlement schemes granting
homesteads to soldiers, these “factory in the fields” proposals tended to be bottom-up,
self-styled, and deeply normative—attempts to retrieve the moral economies of an
Edenic past. The back-to-the-land crusade was both secular and sacred, with Zionist
plans to populate Eretz Israel falling somewhere in between (Ziera, 2002).
Early factory sites, many of which were in cities, were brown-fields with tragic social
consequences. Commentators of the era noted the high incidence of cholera, urban
epidemics, and poor nutrition. Factory smoke and smog assaulted public health and
prevented adequate intake of vitamin D (Foster, 1836). Noting that the working man
was "most sadly cheated of his fair proportions,” Gaskell (1833: 161-62) wrote that
London inhabitants were of lower height and stature than their country counterparts by
several inches, in part due to bowing of their legs. Such diagnoses caused due alarm
and gave reformers a new logic for urban exodus. Gould (1982:5) summaries these
urban-rural tensions:
“The rise of London pointed up the contrast between town and country in Britain
more clearly than ever. It was widely held that the sense of social responsibility
found in the country was absent in the metropolis. It was commonly regarded as
a place of debauchery and danger. The view that London existed primarily as a
place of the rich for luxury and entertainment and as a commercial centre that
produced little of tangible benefit was reflected in William Cobbett’s accusation
that London was the ‘great Wen.’ Friedrich Engels drew attention to some of the
more pleasant aspects of rural life: permanent settlement; leisure for healthful
work in garden and field, recreation and games.”
The idea that small-plot self-sufficiency was a defense against squalor was eloquently
articulated by Thomas Spence, who moved to London on the eve of its industrial
transformation. More than once Spence would go to prison for his radical postulations,
among them the notion that “the land is the people’s farm.” Though an advocate of land
nationalization (Rudkin 1966), Spence viewed the local parish as the potential
embodiment of democracy and an arena for social ownership and reform. The parish
itself would become the “landlord” and its lands would be equally divided among
parishioners, with rents to cover maintenance and defense. This national blueprint,
which Spence immodestly christened “Spenconia,” gained such traction in 1817 that the
government passed an Act of Parliament suppressing Spencean societies
as
conspiratorial (Dickinson, 1982).
Within a generation, similar ideas produced the Chartist Co-operative Land Society, a
legacy of Spence, Godwin, Owen, and others (Goodway, 1982). The Chartists proposed
agricultural allotments for urban laborers sick of squalor and unemployment. At its
height, the plan had 70,000 subscribers and 600 branches across England (Walton,
1999). Energized by the ideas of Fegus O’Connor, the Society generated the National
Land Company and a proposal that the government establish forty estates totaling
20,000 acres (5000 families with 4 acre allotments each) that in time would multiply
across the whole of England (Chase, 1988). This was not to be. Among other reasons,
socialists supporters were internally divided over the allotment plan (some viewed it
archaic and misguided), non-socialists threw their support to private tenure alternatives,
and still other reformers redefined “the land question” as fundamentally a taxation
issue (Gould, 1982).
Towards the end of the nineteenth century the critique of urban-industrial culture
passed to William Morris. Morris, whose thinking about refugia for artisans and workers
was influenced by Ruskin, saw artisans as the embodiment of art in nature (Gould,
1982). His contempt for urban existence was clear in his attacks on capitalism and
parliamentary democracy (“a dung heap”). Like Edward Carpenter, whom he much
admired, Morris developed a quasi-religious attachment to artisan communities where
poetry, art, and architecture, would nourish enlightened design and human fraternity
(Goodway, 2006). Though his land-based experiment near Sheffield, England (a guild in
which simplicity and human labor were valued over complexity and steam power) was a
disappointment, his life and works suggested that amicable ties between socialism and
anarchism were possible, particularly where rural land experiments were at issue.
Although Morris personally rejected anarchism, he valued
and disseminated the
writings of Peter Kropotkin and thereby influenced the land ideas of urban reformers
such as Ebenezer Howard, Patrick Geddes, and Lewis Mumford. Kropotkin’s Fields,
Factories and Workshops (1888/1913) is a landmark text among anarchists and many
others. In it’s Introduction, Kropotkin states that people show their best ideas when
they have joint pursuits in farms, factories, workshops, and studios, instead of any one
of these (Payne, 2000:50). His emphasis on radically localized social organization with a
significant reliance on land evoked a practical harmony between town/county,
work/leisure, discipline/autonomy, and production/consumption. One can only marvel
at Kropotkins’ synthetic abilities, his premonition of ecological modernization applied to
small farms,7 and his pervasive influence on contemporary social planning and land use
7
To these ends he advocated irrigation and growing under glass to boost local food
production ability. Today, his work has a progressive ring in it’s critique of industrial
reliance on fossil fuels and the need for alternatives
planning.
Ebenezer Howard, an intellectual son and soul-mate of Kropotkin, illustrates this point.
He was known for his seminal contributions to the garden city movement and his
bridging role between centuries and continents (Britain and United States), Howard was
born in 1850 and emigrated to Nebraska at age 21 to try his hand at homesteading.8
While in the U.S., he read and then met both Whitman and Emerson. Once again in
England, Howard set about imagining ways in which cities could escape their modernist
contradictions and shared his answer in a single text, published in 1902: To-Morrow: A
Peaceful Path to Real Reform (later re-titled, Garden Cities of To-morrow). Echoing
others, he wrote that the answer to slums and their social pathologies was the beauty,
health, and low rents of rural living and that such existence could be brought to urban
edges though design modificiations. Howard integrated these amenities in his famous
Three Magnets imagery and operationalized them in his circular landscape plan (Figure
1).
Howard also depoliticized what for over two centuries had been a self-conscious
resistance movement to urban land use and alienation. Socially owned enclaves of
resistance now became suburban blueprints benefitting from meticulous planning,
density guidelines, municipally-owned agricultural belts, and decentralized management
(Howard, 1965). They were environmentally precocious: lands of the green belt would
(See
8
)
Space does not allow treatment of the Free Soil and Homestead movements in the
United States nor the great debates about the western frontier as a safety value for the
eastern working class—an image made famous by Frederick Jackson Turner in his
famous paper read in Chicago in 1893 (Turner, 1920). At base, this continental
campaign by labor, abolitionists, nationalists and others was a protest against slavery,
both racially and occupationally defined. The role played by working mechanics such a
George Henry Evans and journalists such as Horace Greeley is astutely summarized in
(Zahler, 1941).
receive and recycle the organic refuse from elsewhere in the suburb; each garden city
would determine the mix of large or small allotments and their ownership--cooperative,
corporate, or individualized. Garden city thinking found its way into green belt planning
laws in England after World War II, infected planning curricula world-wide, and, with
some modifications, found suburban expression in the United States, Argentina,
Australia, Canada, and Israel.
Among the people captivated by Howard’s vision in the twentieth century was Henry
Ford. Chastened by the recession of 1920, Ford rededicated himself to an earlier dream
of harmonizing industry and agriculture, famously saying: “When it comes to sustaining
life we go the the fields. With one foot in agriculture and the other in industry, America
is safe” (Grandin, 2009:58). Like Morris, Kropotkin, Howard and others, Ford believed
that returning to the land would solve urban poverty and set about establishing a model
town in Michigan (Greenfield) and another in the Brazilian Amazon State of Para
(Fordlandia). Unlike the communities and garden enclaves of his predecessors, both
communities were company towns run by professionals chosen by Ford. Both were
whiplashed by the Great Depression and their patron’s revulsion for New Deal. But both
incorporated gardening and enthroned the belief that working the land was ennobling
and ultimately the solution to urban decay.9
Today, Greenfield is a museum displaying American artifacts and architecture of many
kinds; its back-to-the-land inspiration is but a footnote. As for Fordlandia, in the
aftermath of World War II Ford employees withdrew, the company granted severance
pay to its Brazilian workers, and its rubber production succumbed to the plantation
competition from Asia and non-plantation synthetics. Though in some ways a sorry
9
Ford didn’t limit himself to these high-profile models. He urged that school curricula
incorporate his harmony vision, gave his employees garden plots in other locations,
created a private extension service call the Garden Education Service, and sponsored
home garden competitions among his employees (Grandin, 2009).
ending for green disaster proofing efforts, it is worth noting that former workers at
Fordlandia survived for years after Ford’s retreat from their subsistence plots (Grandin,
2009:335).
Conclusions:
That humans of different beliefs, geographies, and locations in history have turned to
the land to deflect crisis appears to be the rule rather than the exception. The
distinction in this chapter between top-down and bottom-up green disaster proofing
may be, however, somewhat contrived. In truth the two have operated simultaneously
time and again, a fact that complicates this short history. Though attentive to three
historical episodes and their background crises, this chapter has left untouched “back to
the land” moments that enthralled fascist youth under Hitler (Payne, 2000), communist
youth under Stalin and Mao Zedong (Hinton, 1966), and many land allotment schemes
in the annals of global land reform. Finally, my account suggests that military allotments
have all but terminated, a reading that may be premature. In an era of mounting state
security concerns, the catch-all crisis of today, it is possible that military land allotments
and supporting land policies may return in ways we have yet to imagine.
Sources:
Appleyard, R. T. and Toby Manford. 1979. The Beginning: European Discovery and Early
Settlement of Swan River Western Australia. Nedlands, Western Australia: University of
Western Australia Press.
Bockstruck, L. D. 1996. Revolutionary War Bounty Land Grants Awarded by State
Governments. Baltimore: Genealogical Publishing Co.
_______________2007. Bounty and Donation Land Grants in British Colonial America.
Geneological Pub Co.
Booton H. 1970. Ford: An Unconventional Biography of the Men and Their Times.
London: Cassell.
Chenoweth, R. and S.W. Semonis. 1992. The History of McDonough County, Illinois.
Dallas: Curtis Media Corp.
Dickinson, H. T. (ed.) 1982. The Political Work of Thomas Spence. Newcastle Upon Tyne:
Avero Publications, Ltd.
Fielden, J. 1836. The Curse of the Factory System. London, 1836,pp. 34-35.
Ganshof, F. L. 1964. Feudalism. Toronto: University of Toronto Press.
Gaskell, P. 1833. The Manufacturing Population of England. London.
Girardet, H. 1976. Land for the People. London: Crescent Books.
Goldsworthy, A. 2003. The Complete Roman Army. London: Thames and Hudson.
Goodway, D. 1982. London Chartism 1838-1848. London: Cambridge University Press.
_______________. 2006. Anarchist Seeds beneath the Snow: Left Libertarian Thought
and English Writers From William Morris to Colin Ward. Liverpool: Liverpool University
Press.
Gould, P. 1988. Early Green Politics: Back to Nature, Back to the Land, and Socialism in
Britain 1880-1900. NY: St. Martin’s Press.
Hehir, J. B. 1995. “Expanding Military Intervenion: Promise or Peril?” Social Research,
Vol. 62, 1995
Helphand, K. 2006. . Defiant Gardens: Making Gardens in Wartime. San Antonion: Trinity
University Press.
Hinton, W. 1966. Fanshen: A Documentary of Revolution in a Chinese Village. New York:
Monthly Review Press.
Hobsbawm, E. 1962. The Age of Revolution, 1789-1848. Cleveland: World Pub. Co.
Homeland Security Today, 2009. “Special Feature: The Greening of Homeland Security.”
Oct. Vol. 16 (10).
Hopkins, K. 1978. Conquerors and Slaves. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
Howard, E. 1965. Garden Cities of To-Morrow. Cambridge, MA: MIT Press.
Kropotkin, P. 1888. Fields, Factories, and Workshops Tomorrow. New York: Harper
Torchbooks.
Leneman, L. 1989. Fit for Heroes?: Land settlement in Scotland after World War I.
Aberdeen: Aberdeen University Press.
Chase, M. 1988. ‘The People’s Farm.’ English Radical Agrarianism, 1775-1840. Oxford:
Clarendon Press.
Marschner, F.J.1959. “Land Use and Its Patterns in the United States.” Agricultural
Handbook, No. 153. USDA: Washington, D.C.
Mather, A.S., 1978. State-Aided Land Settlement in Scotland. Aberdeen: Univ. of
Aberdeen Press.
North, D. and R.P. Thomas. 1973. The Rise of the Western World. London: Cambridge
University Press.
Parker, P. 2009. The Empire Stops Here. London: Jonathan Cape.
Payne, J. 2000. Journey up the Thames: William Morris and Modern England. London:
Nottingham.
Porter, D. H. 1998. The Thames Embankment: Environment, Technology, and Society in
Victorian London. Akron, Ohio: University of Akron Press.
Roth, G. and C. Wittich. 1978. Max Weber: Economy and Society. An Outline of
Interpretive Sociology. Berkeley: University of California Press.
Rudkin, O.D. (1927)1966. Thomas Spence and His Connections. London: Kelly.
Schama, S. 1995. Landscape and Memory. New York: A.A. Knopf.
Tilly, C. 1985. “War Making and State Making as Organized Crime,” Pp. 25-39 in P.
Evans, D. Reuschemeyer, and T. Skocpol (eds.), Bringing the State Back In. Cambridge:
Cambridge University Press.
Turner, F. J. 1920. The Frontier in American History. NY: Henry Holt & Co.
Wallerstein, E. 1983. “Nationalism and the World Transition to Socialism: is there a
Crisis?” Third World Quarterly 5(1):95-102.
Walton, J.K. 1999. Chartism. London: Routledge.
Weber, M. 1891. Roman Agrarian History (Translation by Richard I. Frank). Claremont:;
Regina Books.
Weber, M. 1947. The Theory of Social and Economic Organization. Oxford, New York.
Zahler, H. A. 1941 Eastern Workingmen and National Land Policy. 1829-1862. New York:
Columbia University Press.
Zeira, M. 2002. Rural Collective Settlement and Jewish Culture in Eretz Israel during the
1920s. Jerusalem.
Figure 1: Howards’s Seminal Three Magnets Transformed into Social-Spatial Planning.