In Millenarian Dreams and Racial Nightmares, John H. Matsui argues that the political ideology and racial views of American Protestants during the Civil War mirrored their religious optimism or pessimism regarding human nature, perfectibility, and the millennium. While previous historians have commented on the role of antebellum eschatology in political alignment, none have delved deeply into how religious views complicate the standard narrative of the North versus the South. Moving beyond the traditional optimism/pessimism dichotomy, Matsui divides American Protestants of the Civil War era into “premillenarian” and “postmillenarian” camps. Both postmillenarian and premillenarian Christians held that the return of Christ would inaugurate the arrival of heaven on earth, but they disagreed over its timing. This disagreement was key to their disparate political stances. Postmillenarians argued that God expected good Christians to actively perfect the world via moral reform—of self and society—and free-labor ideology, whereas premillenarians defended hierarchy or racial mastery (or both). Northern Democrats were generally comfortable with antebellum racial norms and were cynical regarding human nature; they therefore opposed Republicans’ utopian plans to reform the South. Southern Democrats, who held premillenarian views like their northern counterparts, pressed for or at least acquiesced in the secession of slaveholding states to preserve white supremacy. Most crucially, enslaved African American Protestants sought freedom, a postmillenarian societal change requiring nothing less than a major revolution and the reconstruction of southern society. Millenarian Dreams and Racial Nightmares adds a new dimension to our understanding of the Civil War as it reveals the wartime marriage of political and racial ideology to religious speculation. As Matsui argues, the postmillenarian ideology came to dominate the northern states during the war years and the nation as a whole following the Union victory in 1865.

A bold rereading of Augustinian thought for a world still haunted by slavery Over the last two decades, scholars have made a striking return to the resources of the Augustinian tradition to theorize citizenship, virtue, and the place of religion in public life. However, these scholars have not sufficiently attended to Augustine’s embrace of the position of the Christian slaveholder. To confront a racialized world, the modern Augustinian tradition of political thought must reckon with its own entanglements with the afterlife of the white Christian master. Drawing Augustine’s politics and the resources of modern Black thought into extended dialogue, Matthew Elia develops a critical analysis of the enduring problem of the Christian master, even as he presses toward an alternative interpretation of key concepts of ethical life—agency, virtue, temporality—against and beyond the framework of mastery. Amid democratic crises and racial injustice on multiple fronts, the book breathes fresh life into conversations on religion and the public square by showing how ancient and contemporary sources at once clash and converge in surprising ways. It imaginatively carves a path forward for the enduring humanities inquiry into the nature of our common life and the perennial problem of social and political domination.

2019 Outstanding Book Award, American Association of Colleges for Teacher Education (AACTE) Millennial Teachers of Color explores the opportunities and challenges for creating and sustaining a healthy teaching force in the United States. Millennials are the largest generational cohort in American history, with approximately ninety million members and, of these, roughly 43 percent are people of color. This book, edited by prominent teacher educator Mary E. Dilworth, considers the unique qualities, challenges, and opportunities posed by that large population for the teaching field. Noting that a diverse teaching and learning community enhances student achievement, particularly for the underserved and underachieving preK–12 student population, Dilworth argues that efforts to recruit, groom, and retain teachers of color are out-of-date and inadequate. She and the contributors offer fresh looks at these millennials and explore their views of the teaching profession; focus attention on their relation to schools and teaching; and consider how these young teachers feel about teaching for social justice. The book is intended to disrupt the current line of inquiry that suggests that by simply increasing the number of teachers of color equity has been established. Readers will gain insights on this unique and valuable group of prospective and practicing preK–12 educators and understanding of the need for more contemporary approaches to recruitment, preparation, hiring, and placement. Contributors Keffrelyn D. Brown Keith C. Catone Genesis A. Chavez Marcus J. Coleman Hollee R. Freeman Michael Hansen Socorro G. Herrera Sarah Ishmael Sabrina Hope King Adam T. Kuranishi Lindsay A. Miller Amanda R. Morales Janice Hamilton Outtz Zollie Stevenson Jr. Dulari Tahbildar Angela M. Ward

Myron Magnet's The Dream and the Nightmare argues that the radical transformation of American culture that took place in the 1960s brought today's underclass - overwhelmingly urban, dismayingly minority - into existence. Lifestyle experimentation among the white middle class produced often catastrophic changes in attitudes toward marriage and parenting, the work ethic and dependency in those at the bottom of the social ladder, and closed down their exits to the middle class. Texas Governor George W. Bush's presidential campaign has highlighted the continuing importance of The Dream and the Nightmare. Bush read the book before his first campaign for governor in 1994, and, when he finally met Magnet in 1998, he acknowledged his debt to this work. Karl Rove, Bush's principal political adviser, cites it as a road map to the governor's philosophy of ''compassionate conservatism.''

The Radical Mind is a groundbreaking analysis of the origins of the Christian Right, whose political victories are radically reshaping the landscape of American society. Scholars and the public alike have traditionally regarded the New Right and the Christian Right as separate movements. The New Right is supposedly a secular right-wing operation with purely political goals, while the Christian Right is an evangelical Protestant movement largely motivated by religious convictions. Insofar as both are conservative efforts, most people view them as reactionary and driven by a culture-war backlash against liberal changes to society. Chelsea Ebin’s The Radical Mind aims to overturn this consensus. Through a close analysis of New Right architects Connaught Marshner and Paul Weyrich (who is often seen as secular but was a committed Catholic), this book explores the way conservative Catholics and Protestants overcame their long-standing antipathy to form a political coalition—what Ebin calls the New Christian Right. Drawing on extensive archival research, Ebin shows how the movement’s key architects infused right-wing activism with religion. Rather than working to conserve the past, this book argues that the New Christian Right is fundamentally a forward-looking and proactive movement focused on remaking the political landscape in the United States. The radical aims of the New Christian Right have been obscured by the way they cultivated a shared identity of victimhood and manipulated the discourse about backlash to create a nostalgic idea of the past that they then leveraged to justify their right-wing policy goals. The Catholic-Protestant alliance constructed an imagined past that they projected into the future as their ideal vision of society. Ebin calls this strategy “prefigurative traditionalism”—a paradoxical prefiguring of a manufactured past. Using this tactic, the New Christian Right coalition disguised the radicality of its politics by framing their aims as reactionary and defensive rather than proactive and offensive. An interdisciplinary work informed by the fields of history, religious studies, public law, and American politics, The Radical Mind offers a new and convincing explanation for the recent gains of the Christian Right and the morally supercharged political landscape we face today.

The first full-scale biography of Robert Welch, who founded the John Birch Society and planted some of modern conservatism’s most insidious seeds. Though you may not know his name, Robert Welch (1899-1985)—founder of the John Birch Society—is easily one of the most significant architects of our current political moment. In A Conspiratorial Life, the first full-scale biography of Welch, Edward H. Miller delves deep into the life of an overlooked figure whose ideas nevertheless reshaped the American right. A child prodigy who entered college at age 12, Welch became an unlikely candy magnate, founding the company that created Sugar Daddies, Junior Mints, and other famed confections. In 1958, he funneled his wealth into establishing the organization that would define his legacy and change the face of American politics: the John Birch Society. Though the group’s paranoiac right-wing nativism was dismissed by conservative thinkers like William F. Buckley, its ideas gradually moved from the far-right fringe into the mainstream. By exploring the development of Welch’s political worldview, A Conspiratorial Life shows how the John Birch Society’s rabid libertarianism—and its highly effective grassroots networking—became a profound, yet often ignored or derided influence on the modern Republican Party. Miller convincingly connects the accusatory conservatism of the midcentury John Birch Society to the inflammatory rhetoric of the Tea Party, the Trump administration, Q, and more. As this book makes clear, whether or not you know his name or what he accomplished, it’s hard to deny that we’re living in Robert Welch’s America.

Tracing the conflict between assimilation and Black Nationalism through the movements, myths, and moments that shaped black America and the hip-hop generation in the 20th century, Ross argues that the battle between Nas and Jay-Z was the latest in a long line of creative conflicts between complex, oppositional black icons.