Beginning in the late 1630s, a diversity of Algonquian and Iroquoian peoples established under the auspices of Jesuit and, later, Sulpician missionaries a string of village communities in the St. Lawrence Valley. A diversity of peoples, whom the French lumped under the rubrics of “Algonquins”, “Montagnais”, “Hurons”, “Iroquois”, “Abenakis” and “Loups”, migrated to these villages in the hope of bettering their lives in trying times. This dissertation retraces the formation and the early development of these communities, exploring the entangled influence of armed conflict, diplomacy, kinship, and leadership on migration, community-building, and identity formation. The historiography of the St. Lawrence Valley – the French colonial heartland in North America – has tended to relegate these Aboriginal communities to the margins. Moreover, those scholars who have considered the formation of mission villages have tended to emphasize missionary initiative. Here, these villages are reimagined as a joint creation, the result of intersecting French and Aboriginal desires, needs, and priorities. The significance of these villages as sites of refuge becomes readily apparent, the trajectories of individual communities corresponding with the escalation of conflict or with its tense aftermath. What also becomes clear is that the course of war and peace through the region cannot be accounted solely by the relations of the French and Iroquois, or of the French and British crowns. Paying close attentions to the nuanced personal and collective identities of the residents of the mission villages and their neighbours allows us to gain a better understanding of the geopolitics of the northeastern woodlands during the seventeenth and early eighteenth centuries.

Beginning in the late 1630s, a diversity of Algonquian and Iroquoian peoples established under the auspices of Jesuit and, later, Sulpician missionaries a string of village communities in the St. Lawrence Valley. A diversity of peoples, whom the French lumped under the rubrics of “Algonquins”, “Montagnais”, “Hurons”, “Iroquois”, “Abenakis” and “Loups”, migrated to these villages in the hope of bettering their lives in trying times. This dissertation retraces the formation and the early development of these communities, exploring the entangled influence of armed conflict, diplomacy, kinship, and leadership on migration, community-building, and identity formation. The historiography of the St. Lawrence Valley – the French colonial heartland in North America – has tended to relegate these Aboriginal communities to the margins. Moreover, those scholars who have considered the formation of mission villages have tended to emphasize missionary initiative. Here, these villages are reimagined as a joint creation, the result of intersecting French and Aboriginal desires, needs, and priorities. The significance of these villages as sites of refuge becomes readily apparent, the trajectories of individual communities corresponding with the escalation of conflict or with its tense aftermath. What also becomes clear is that the course of war and peace through the region cannot be accounted solely by the relations of the French and Iroquois, or of the French and British crowns. Paying close attentions to the nuanced personal and collective identities of the residents of the mission villages and their neighbours allows us to gain a better understanding of the geopolitics of the northeastern woodlands during the seventeenth and early eighteenth centuries.

The United States emerged from the Second World War determined to play a leading role in the maintenance of international order. Increasing levels of tension between the United States and the forces of communism after 1945, however, slowly forced a redefinition of what might be more distinctly termed America's "global" responsibilities, such that by 1961 John F. Kennedy declared that the United States would "pay any price. . .in order to assure the survival and success of liberty." An identifiable Cold War consensus took shape based on the assumption that it was America's responsibility to lead, protect, and defend, the "free-world." Since America was effectively waging a battle to ensure the successful spread of its own values, the Cold War consensus also served to severely limit debate—dissent essentially implied disloyalty. By the mid-1960s, however, the Cold War consensus began to crack and a debate over American foreign policy began to emerge. That debate is the focus of this dissertation, which looks at the opposition to Cold War policies which emerged in the Senate, most notably among the members of the Senate Foreign Relations Committee --many of whom had once played a role in developing the very foreign policies they now protested. The war in Vietnam provided the focal point for much of the dissent, but the foreign aid program also became heavily criticized, as did America's NATO policy, particularly the size of the American military presence in Europe. More important, however, Senate dissenters came to question the United States' very position as the principle defender of the free world. They did not dispute the idea that America had a significant role to play in the global arena, but they did not believe that role should consist of being the world's policeman, the self-appointed arbiter of other’s affairs, and the keeper of the status quo. Because of their views, the so-called dissenters were labelled as "neo-isolationists." They saw themselves the true "internationalists," however, believing that the Cold War had led to confusion between internationalism and indiscriminate global involvement.

This dissertation examines how progressive era social scientists thought about African American workers and their place in the nation’s industrial past, present, and future.Progressives across the color line drew on a common discourse of industrial evolution that linked racial development with labor fitness. Evolutionary science merged with scientific management to create new taxonomies of racial labor fitness. I chart this process from turn of the century actuarial science which defined African Americans as a dying race, to wartime mental and physical testing that acknowledged the Negro as a vital -albeit inferior- part of the nation’s industrial workforce. During this period, African Americans struggled to prove their worth on the shop-floor, the battlefield, and the academy. This thesis contends that the modern Negro type- African Americans as objects of social scientific inquiry- which came of age in the post-World War Two era, was born in the draft boards, factories, trenches, hospitals, and university classrooms of the Progressive Era.

Doctor of Philosophy / History / Bonnie Lynn-Sherow / This dissertation is a case study of the Isleta Pueblos of central New Mexico, the Quapaw tribe of northeast Oklahoma, and the Osage Nation of northcentral Oklahoma, and their relationship with the federal government, and specifically the Environmental Protection Agency. As one of the youngest federal agencies, operating during the Self-Determination Era, it seems the EPA would be open to new approaches in federal Indian policy. In reality, the EPA has not reacted much differently than any other historical agency of the federal government. The EPA has rarely recognized the ability of Indians to take care of their own environmental problems. The EPA’s unwillingness to recognize tribal sovereignty was no where clearer than in 2005, when Republican Senator James Inhof of Oklahoma added a rider to his transportation bill that made it illegal in Oklahoma for tribes to gain primary control over their environmental protection programs without first negotiating with, and gaining permission of, the state government of Oklahoma. The rider was an erosion of the federal trust relationship with American Indian tribes (as tribes do not need to heed state laws over federal laws) and an attack on native ability to judge tribal affairs. Oklahoma’s tribes, and Indian leaders from around the nation, worked to get the new law overturned, but the EPA decided to help tribes work within the confines of the new law. Despite the EPA’s stance on the new law, the tribes continued to try to fight back, as they had in the past when challenged by paternalistic federal policy. The EPA treated the Quapaws and Isletas in a similar fashion. Thus, the thesis of this study is that the EPA failed to respect the abilities of American Indian nations, as did federal agencies of years before, to manage their own affairs. Historians have largely neglected the role the EPA has played in recent Indian history and are just now beginning to document how deliberate efforts at self-determination have been employed by tribes for centuries in America.

Doctor of Philosophy / Department of History / Donald J. Mrozek / This dissertation examines the influence of the treaty system inaugurated at the Washington Naval Conference of 1921-22 upon innovation in the design of the interwar U.S. fleet. The way in which sea power was viewed by the U.S. Navy of the period combined with the Navy’s unique organizational structure to shape the Navy’s efforts in building a “treaty fleet.” In particular, the General Board of the Navy, a formal body established by the Secretary of the Navy to advise him on both strategic and other matters with respect to fleet, served as the organizational nexus for the interaction between fleet design and treaty implementation. The General Board members orchestrated the efforts by the principal Naval Bureaus, the Naval War College, and the Office of the Chief of Naval Operations in ensuring that the designs adopted for the warships built and modified during the period of the Washington (Five Power) and London Naval Treaties both met treaty requirements while meeting strategic needs. The leadership of the Navy at large, and the General Board in particular, felt themselves especially constrained by Article XIX (the fortification clause) of the Five Power Treaty that implemented a status quo on naval fortification in the Western Pacific. The treaty system led the Navy to design a measurably different fleet than it might otherwise have done in the absence of naval limitations.

Doctor of Philosophy / Department of History / Jack M. Holl / Donald J. Mrozek / As president, Dwight Eisenhower believed that nuclear weapons, both fission and fusion, were permissible and desirable assets to help protect U.S. national security against the threat of international communism. He championed the beneficent role played by nuclear weapons, including both civilian and military uses, and he lauded the simultaneous and multi-pronged use of the atom for peace and for war. Eisenhower's assessment of the role and value of nuclear technology was profound, sincere, and pragmatic, but also simplistic, uneven, and perilous. He desired to make nuclear weapons as available, useful, and ordinary for purposes of national security as other revolutionary military technology from the past, such as the tank or the airplane. He also planned to exploit nuclear technology for a variety of peaceful, civilian applications that he also believed could contribute to national strength. However, Eisenhower did not possess a systematic view of national security in the nuclear age as some scholars have argued. Rather, Eisenhower approached the question of how to defend national security through nuclear weapons with an array of disparate ideas and programs which worked simultaneously toward sometimes divergent objectives that were unified only by a simple conception of national strength. In this effort, Eisenhower occasionally pursued what might seem to be conflicting initiatives, but nonetheless consistently advanced his view that strength through nuclear technology was possible, necessary, and sustainable. Because he believed nuclear technology effectively served his goal to defend national security through strength, Eisenhower sought to reverse the perception that nuclear weapons were inherently dangerous by advocating steadily and consistently for the proper and acceptable use of nuclear technology to contribute to the safety of the republic. He conceived policies such as the New Look, massive retaliation, Project Plowshare, and Atoms for Peace in part to convince the American public and the international community of the U.S.'s genuine desire for peace as Eisenhower simultaneously entrenched atomic and thermonuclear weapons into the American national conscience. Through his efforts, Eisenhower made nuclear weapons and nuclear technology ordinary, abundant, and indispensable to U.S. national security in the twentieth century.

Doctor of Philosophy / Department of History / Michael A. Ramsay / This dissertation examines combat leadership in the American Expeditionary Forces (AEF) in infantry and machine gun units at the company level and below to highlight the linkages between the training and professional development of junior officers and noncommissioned officers (NCOs) and the army's overall military effectiveness in World War I. Between 1865 and 1918, the growing lethality of the battlefield had forced changes to tactics and formations that placed novel demands on small unit leaders. The proliferation of new weapons in infantry companies and the thinning and extension of formations required junior officers and NCOs able to exercise an unparalleled degree of initiative and independence while also mastering new tactical and technical skills. When the United States entered World War I, the Regular Army was still grappling with how to reconcile its traditional expectations of small unit leadership with the new "skill sets" required of junior leaders in modern warfare. Faced with the need to produce officers and NCOs to lead its rapidly expanding mass army, the regulars improvised a system for identifying, training, and assigning company-level leaders. Unfortunately, the Regular Army's unpreparedness to wage a modern war, and the host of systemic problems associated with raising a mass army, meant that much of the training of these key leaders was so ill-focused and incomplete that the new officers and NCOs were woefully unprepared to face the tactical challenges that awaited them in France. These problems were only compounded when unexpected casualties among officers and NCOs in the summer and fall of 1918 led to a further curtailment in leader training the U. S. Army. The end result of the U. S. Army's failure to adequately train and develop its junior leaders was that its combat units often lacked the flexibility and "know how" to fight without suffering prohibitively high casualties. When the junior leaders failed, faltered and bungled, the AEF's battles became confused and uncoordinated slugging matches that confounded the plans and expectations of the army's senior leaders. The heavy casualties that resulted from these slugging matches further undermined the AEF's effectiveness by reducing the morale and cohesion of the army's combat units and hindering the army's overall ability to learn from its mistakes due to the high turn-over of junior officers and NCOs.

Master of Arts / Department of History / Charles W. Sanders / On September 13, 1950, in a culmination of three years of efforts by organizations and individuals inside and outside the Harry S. Truman administration, 69 captured battle flags from the Mexican-American War were formally returned to the Mexican government at a ceremony in Mexico City. The events surrounding the return of flags to Mexico occurred in two distinct phases. The first was a small, secretive, and largely symbolic return of three flags conceived and carried out by high-ranking U.S. government officials in June 1947. The second large-scale, public return of the remaining flags in the custody of the War Department was initiated by the American Legion and enacted by the United States Congress. Despite their differences, both returns were heavily influenced by contemporary events, primarily the presidential election of 1948 and the escalation of the Cold War. Also, although the second return was much more extensive than the President originally intended, it was only through his full support that either return was accomplished. In the decades since 1950, historians have either ignored the return of Mexican battle flags or focused instead on Truman’s wreath laying at the monument to the niños héroes in Mexico City in March 1947. This study, for the first time, provides an in-depth description of the efforts to return captured Mexican battle flags and explains why these war trophies were returned while others have remained in the United States. The goal of this investigation is to present the efforts of the Truman administration for what they truly were: an unprecedented act of international friendship. Although the actions of the U.S. government and private organizations were partially influenced by self-interest and Cold War fears, their primary motivation was a sincere desire to erase the painful memories surrounding the Mexican-American War of 1846-1848 in an effort to improve future relations between the two countries. Many historians point to the Truman administration as the end of the Good Neighbor Policy toward Latin America. This study, however, argues that the return of captured Mexican battle flags represents the true pinnacle of the United States’ Good Neighbor Policy toward its southern neighbor.

Doctor of Philosophy / Department of History / Sue Zschoche / Historians have often linked the route of the second wave of the women's movement on college campuses with the development of women's liberation as young women involved in the New Left came to feminist consciousness working in civil rights and anti-Vietnam protests. This dissertation considers a “longer, quieter” route to feminist consciousness on a college campus by considering the role of a dean of women, Dr. Emily Taylor, at the University of Kansas between 1956 and 1974. Through her office that centered on women’s affairs, Taylor used the student personnel and counseling profession to instigate the dissolution of parietals at KU, a project that has long been associated with New Left student protests. A liberal feminist committed to incremental change to benefit women’s equal status in society, Taylor structured her office to foster feminist consciousness in undergraduate students, and provided staff support to New Left and radical women’s groups as they emerged on the KU campus. As a result, the inter-generational exchange that occurred within the KU dean of women’s office illustrates one example of how liberal and radical feminists interacted to foster social change within an institution of higher learning. The projects undertaken within her office illustrate that these seemingly separate groups of women overlapped, collaborated, and sometimes clashed as they worked toward achieving feminist goals. Her career at KU also shows that the metaphor of a first and second wave of the women’s movement may not be an accurate picture of the growth of feminism on co-educational campuses. Little scholarly work exists on the role of deans of women in higher education, or regarding women college students in the years immediately following World War II. This dissertation adds to the literature in both areas, showing that in the case of KU the administration was not a monolithic obstacle to student protest, the New Left, civil rights, and feminism. Instead, Taylor as dean of women pushed initiatives that bore on all of these areas. While Taylor is one example, her career illustrates patterns in deans of women’s activities that deserve further study and consideration.