Michael E. Neagle – författare

America's Forgotten Colony examines private US citizens' experiences on Cuba's Isle of Pines to show how American influence adapted and endured in republican-era Cuba (1902-58). This transnational study challenges the notion that US territorial ambitions waned after the nineteenth century. Many Americans, anxious about a 'closed' frontier in an industrialized, urbanized United States, migrated to the Isle and pushed for agrarian-oriented landed expansion well into the twentieth century. Their efforts were stymied by Cuban resistance and reluctant US policymakers. After decades of tension, however, a new generation of Americans collaborated with locals in commercial and institutional endeavors. Although they did not wield the same influence, Americans nevertheless maintained a significant footprint. The story of this cooperation upsets prevailing conceptions of US domination and perpetual conflict, revealing that US-Cuban relations at the grassroots were not nearly as adversarial as on the diplomatic level at the dawn of the Cuban Revolution.

America's Forgotten Colony examines private US citizens' experiences on Cuba's Isle of Pines to show how American influence adapted and endured in republican-era Cuba (1902-58). This transnational study challenges the notion that US territorial ambitions waned after the nineteenth century. Many Americans, anxious about a 'closed' frontier in an industrialized, urbanized United States, migrated to the Isle and pushed for agrarian-oriented landed expansion well into the twentieth century. Their efforts were stymied by Cuban resistance and reluctant US policymakers. After decades of tension, however, a new generation of Americans collaborated with locals in commercial and institutional endeavors. Although they did not wield the same influence, Americans nevertheless maintained a significant footprint. The story of this cooperation upsets prevailing conceptions of US domination and perpetual conflict, revealing that US-Cuban relations at the grassroots were not nearly as adversarial as on the diplomatic level at the dawn of the Cuban Revolution.

America''s Forgotten Colony examines private US citizens'' experiences on Cuba''s Isle of Pines to show how American influence adapted and endured in republican-era Cuba (1902–58). This transnational study challenges the notion that US territorial ambitions waned after the nineteenth century. Many Americans, anxious about a ''closed'' frontier in an industrialized, urbanized United States, migrated to the Isle and pushed for agrarian-oriented landed expansion well into the twentieth century. Their efforts were stymied by Cuban resistance and reluctant US policymakers. After decades of tension, however, a new generation of Americans collaborated with locals in commercial and institutional endeavors. Although they did not wield the same influence, Americans nevertheless maintained a significant footprint. The story of this cooperation upsets prevailing conceptions of US domination and perpetual conflict, revealing that US-Cuban relations at the grassroots were not nearly as adversarial as on the diplomatic level at the dawn of the Cuban Revolution.

America''s Forgotten Colony examines private US citizens'' experiences on Cuba''s Isle of Pines to show how American influence adapted and endured in republican-era Cuba (1902–58). This transnational study challenges the notion that US territorial ambitions waned after the nineteenth century. Many Americans, anxious about a ''closed'' frontier in an industrialized, urbanized United States, migrated to the Isle and pushed for agrarian-oriented landed expansion well into the twentieth century. Their efforts were stymied by Cuban resistance and reluctant US policymakers. After decades of tension, however, a new generation of Americans collaborated with locals in commercial and institutional endeavors. Although they did not wield the same influence, Americans nevertheless maintained a significant footprint. The story of this cooperation upsets prevailing conceptions of US domination and perpetual conflict, revealing that US-Cuban relations at the grassroots were not nearly as adversarial as on the diplomatic level at the dawn of the Cuban Revolution.

While the war on terror has been America’s largest and most publicized attempt to root out foreign enemies this century, the quest to identify and destroy real or imagined threats to national security has long been a part of US history. Indeed, since the onset of the United States' overseas empire at the dawn of the twentieth century, it has pursued enemies in places of strategic interest around the globe: the remote islands of the Philippines, the US southern border, hemispheric hot spots in Central and South America, and the greater Middle East.The common depiction of these kinds of foes—private actors who did not formally represent the countries they fought for—has maintained a remarkable consistency over time. The only difference is that enemies who used to be called “bandits” then are now more often referred to as “terrorists.” Connoting an illegitimacy of both cause and means, the widespread use of such terms also has served to blunt deeper considerations of US foreign engagements. Drawing on six case studies, Michael E. Neagle spotlights the commonalities of how the United States has leveraged popular understandings of “bandits” to justify incursions abroad as well as rally popular and political support at home.

While the war on terror has been America's largest and most publicized attempt to root out foreign enemies this century, the quest to identify and destroy real or imagined threats to national security has long been a part of US history. Indeed, since the onset of the United States' overseas empire at the dawn of the twentieth century, it has pursued enemies in places of strategic interest around the globe: the remote islands of the Philippines, the US southern border, hemispheric hot spots in Central and South America, and the greater Middle East.The common depiction of these kinds of foes—private actors who did not formally represent the countries they fought for—has maintained a remarkable consistency over time. The only difference is that enemies who used to be called "bandits" then are now more often referred to as "terrorists." Connoting an illegitimacy of both cause and means, the widespread use of such terms also has served to blunt deeper considerations of US foreign engagements. Drawing on six case studies, Michael E. Neagle spotlights the commonalities of how the United States has leveraged popular understandings of "bandits" to justify incursions abroad as well as rally popular and political support at home.

While the war on terror has been Americas largest and most publicized attempt to root out foreign enemies this century, the quest to identify and destroy real or imagined threats to national security has long been a part of US history. Indeed, since the onset of the United States' overseas empire at the dawn of the twentieth century, it has pursued enemies in places of strategic interest around the globe: the remote islands of the Philippines, the US southern border, hemispheric hot spots in Central and South America, and the greater Middle East.The common depiction of these kinds of foesprivate actors who did not formally represent the countries they fought forhas maintained a remarkable consistency over time. The only difference is that enemies who used to be called bandits then are now more often referred to as terrorists. The widespread use of such terms, which connote an illegitimacy of both cause and means, also has served to blunt deeper considerations of US foreign engagements. Drawing on six case studies, Michael E. Neagle spotlights the commonalities of how the United States has leveraged popular understandings of bandits to justify incursions abroad as well as rally popular and political support at home.