Asia the great powers' interest in far away battles for legitimacy. Borer provides a telling quotation from Leonid Brezhnev that makes the point perfectly. When the United States overturned Salvador Allende in Chile, the Soviet leader feared a similar result with disastrous consequences to a Russian-supported regime close to home. "To have refrained from intervention in Afghanistan," he quotes the Soviet leader, "would allow aggressive forces to repeat here what they were able to do, for example, in Chile" (p. 136). In a final summary chapter, Borer explores the question of how Vietnam and Afghanistan affected the legitimacy of the superpower governments at home. In the American case, of course, the Vietnam experience made citizens suspicious of their government, impacted on its psyche in various other ways, but did not undermine the basic institutions beyond repair. No doubt the situation would have been much worse were it not for the rapid decline of the Soviet Union and its final collapse. More than the Gulf War, which, Borer rightly notes, served to clarify the differences between wars like Vietnam and wars fought under favorable circumstances to restore a traditional government as in Kuwait, the disintegration of the Soviet empire provided a great boost to American thinking about its institutions and has revitalized in many ways Wilsonian universalism. For Moscow, however, Borer feels Afghanistan was a fundamental cause of the Soviet meltdown. To argue this way, he cites the impact of the withdrawal as a driving force in Mikhail Gorbachev's reform program. Probably even that formulation is not strong enough: Afghanistan became the force that drove the reform agenda. Economically, it cost the Soviets much more than Vietnam did the United States. Gorbachev's ability to aid the other nations under Moscow's wing was damaged. Psychologically, the impact on Eastern Europe was electrifying, especially in Poland, where the example of Russian troops returning home stimulated demands for freedom. And the reverse effect occurred in Russia itself, where, Borer argues, any attempt to suppress these demands in the Warsaw Pact countries would have undermined the legitimacy of perestroika and glasnost. In the end, the author argues, the Soviet Union is best understood as a "transition regime" between premodern and modern states. "The claim of superiority and infallibility could only be maintained in time of military success" (p. 238). Afghanistan was not Russia's Vietnam, he concludes; it was a much more fundamental turning point. This book will provide historians with a lot to chew over. The usefulness of analogy and counterfactuals has become increasingly apparent for teaching purposes and has perhaps taken the place of the old problems books of another era. This book picks up on sociological theory, primarily that of Max Weber, but is never weighted down by jargon. Borer's theses about Afghanistan and the quest for independence from Moscow, and the legitimacy of the Soviet state, will AMERICAN HISTORICAL REVIEW 167 command attention for both Cold War scholars and international historians. LLOYD GARDNER Rutgers University ASIA Peking: Temples and City Life, 14001900. Berkeley and Los Angeles: University of California Press. 2000. Pp. xxxiv, 816. $80.00. SUSAN NAQUIN. The subtitle of this book indicates its distinctive method: Susan Naquin shows how the temples in and around imperial Beijing helped to define urban life, in sacred aspects and secular, as nodes of social action, venues for public activities, and channels for the court's interaction with its subjects. Through the lens of Chinese religion in its social context, she projects a richly detailed history of imperial Beijing. With temples as the focus, here is a five-century urban history that reveals the full range of political and cultural factors that defined the capital: the fifteenthcentury founding of the city by the Ming usurper Y ongle; the wrenching transition after the Manchu conquest, when all Chinese were forced to move to what became an "outer" city south of the Ming wall; the gradual emergence of a distinctive Peking selfawareness; the evolving physical structure of the city and its administration; and the changing relationship between the imperial city and its concentric surroundings. Did temples define a "space" between state and family that did (or could) serve as a medium for something like a "public sphere?" Naquin immediately calls attention to this question but shows that it cannot be settled. The picture is ambiguous. Only hazily and episodically did anyone perceive a religious "space" beyond the regulatory grasp of the state, and any such perception was embedded in practice rather than theory. The Ming state had a more systematic approach to the regulation of religion, whereas their Qing successors both patronized and regulated religion more selectively. Although temple life had its own distinctive effects on society, nobody assumed it to be part of a realm immune to state authority. On the other hand, the thousands of temples in premodern Peking did in fact serve as gathering places for both public and private groups. Many such places and groups were tolerated or even patronized by the rulers, and the structure of public life was therefore not defined by the state in any strict sense. Yet the state was never unconcerned with popular ritual associations, nor lacked the will to regulate them. Public space was of course unavailable to sects that the government had labeled "heterodox" and targeted for persecution. These were perforce private rather than public, hidden rather than open. Like communicants of the "house-church" movement in today's China, devotees might have preferred a public site but were forced to resort to secret worship in private FEBRUARY 2002 168 Reviews of Books places. Foreign faiths, too, such as Catholicism or Lamaism, were strictly controlled; in the case of Catholicism, such controls led to extinction by the mid-eighteenth century. Imperial policy toward devotional groups was thus selective and embodied no overarching principle that defined the relationship between state and religion. Thus Naquin's study suggests that the public had "spaces" but no "sphere." "Temple" (as a place where a deity was enshrined, a space for "making contact with the supernatural") is defined here broadly to include not only buildings specifically dedicated to deity cults but also the sites of such institutions as occupational guilds and nativeplace lodges, which Naquin seems to characterize as quasi-temples (not her phrase) by virtue of their shrines to patron deities. Actually, the bold inclusiveness of her "temple" category has led to an overarching vision of how secular and sacred interpenetrated in urban institutions of all sorts, a unique contribution of this book. Indeed, the grand picture presented by this work reveals the underlying basis of Chinese urban life: particularism of many types (sojourning compatriots, ritual associations, occupational groups, foreign ethnics) formed a colorful mosaic of communities, whose identities usually were marked by specific ritual observances. Whether in a "temple," pure and simple, or a native-place lodge, the worship of deities was fundamental to every community in the city. Sacred and secular functions were thus interdependent. In this mosaic of particularism, both inclusive and exclusive forces were operating through temples: those temples that brought disparate groups together, and others that bounded and defined their distinctiveness. Naquin's sources include imperial archives, a broad array of private contemporary essays and memoirs, guidebooks and gazetteers, and (most prominently) stela inscriptions from all over the city. These inscriptions have enabled her to trace the intimate details of temples' histories, including particularly their patrons. Besides these primary sources in Chinese, the author has consulted numerous firsthand Western perceptions of imperial Peking. The result is both a landmark in our understanding of imperial Chinese urban life and an excellent introduction to the imperial institution in its social setting. PHI LIP A. KUHN Harvard University BENJAMIN A. ELMAN. A Cultural History of Civil Examinations in Late Imperial China. (A Philip E. Lilienthal Book.) Berkeley and Los Angeles: University of California Press. 2000. Pp. xlii, 847. $75.00. This is an important book on a major institution of late imperial China: the civil service examination system in the Ming (1368-1644) and Qing (1644-1911) periods. Its strengths lie in its meticulous presentation of information on change in the curriculum, grading practice, and results of examinations based on metro- AMERICAN HISTORICAL REVIEW politan and provincial examination records. It documents clearly that the civil service examination was not a monolithic instrument of late imperial governments. The book successfully conveys a sense of the complexity of the civil examination in terms of its linguistic, social, political, and intellectual aspects. In response to criticism leveled at the structuralist approach of his earlier article on the same topic, Benjamin A. Elman has made an effort to include discussion of the tension and struggle between the imperial state and the literate elites in their control over this "cultural arena" (p. xxiv). He also argues convincingly that topics on astronomy, mathematics, and music were not unimportant in the training of literati in the late imperial period. What is less successful and convincing is his construction of the "cultural history" of the examinations and his conclusions about their impact on social stratification and intellectual change in these periods. His "cultural history" approach is meant to go beyond studies that focus only on the question of whether the examinations produced a more fluid society in the late imperial period. But he takes the side of those who argue that they did not increase social mobility. His argument is built on the idea that acquisition of "classical literacy" required an extended period of linguistic and literary training. This is a valid point, but he overstates his case by insisting that the "unequal social distribution of linguistic and cultural resources" "culturally excluded" common people like artisans, peasants, and traders (p. 372). It can be argued that Elman's position is undermined in two ways by the evidence he provides. First, in the beginning of the book he uses terms like "gentry-official," "gentry literati," "elite degree-holding gentry" to characterize the elite groups that monopolized success at the examinations. Increasingly, he prefers terms like "gentrymerchants" and, finally, "gentry, military, and merchant elites" (pp. xvii, 12, 141, 126, 376, 422, 625). Elman's logic, placing a premium on resources, does allow expansion of the literate elites to include merchant and military families. If the merchants could use their resources to acquire classical literacy for their sons, so could military families (pp. 253-56). But why would commoners not take advantage of the examinations that provided the most coveted access to wealth and power in this period? In fact, Elman does provide evidence for the possibility of sons of poor commoner families to acquire classical literacy. He mentions support from lineage schools. Despite the dominance of gentry and merchants in lineage leadership, sons from peasant and artisan families were allowed to attend lineage schools, sometimes with grants from lineage trusts. One cannot understand why the fact that more than sixty percent of the over 22,000 metropolitan graduates were from commoner families is considered insufficient evidence for a fluid society in the Ming and Qing. The explanation is that they were already members of local literati elites. The denial of mobility to these graduates is based on the idea that FEBRUARY 2002
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