Slavery by Another Name is the rare example of regional history with sufficient appeal to attract a general, national audience. Regional histories often suffer from tunnel vision. Douglas A. Blackmon is the uncommon historian capable of correlating regional history and its national context. By defining the "era of Neoslavery" (Blackmon's proposed replacement for the term most Americans use: "Jim Crow") as existing between 1877 and 1945, the author expands his work's purpose beyond the confines of the Deep South alone. The beginning - the terminus of Reconstruction - and end - the end of World War II - compel readers to consider the subjugation of southern African Americans a national issue, rather than a regional one. What national factors contributed to their explotation? What national factors produced the solutions?

History students may have encountered President Theodore Roosevelt's appointment of the moderate Democrat Thomas Jones to the US district court in Montgomery, AL. In a widely read book like Edmund Morris's Theodore Rex, the fact is used to explain Roosevelt's political vision - as a leader committed to unifying unsettling polemic divide. Blackmon calls upon offical Washington's political philosophy regarding class and race to support his thesis. Judge Jones's and Attorney General Knox's activities owe less to their devotion to President Roosevelt than the Constitution each man was called on to defend (Roosevelt's significance was that of a focusing lens). These three men did not lay exclusive claim to a commitment to equality before the law. Their actions are used as an example of a nation in transition.

The author's conclusion that Neoslavery ended only when it created a conflict of national security is presumed to be correct, but could have been expanded. Blackmon contends that institutional white supremacy inhibited any true commitment to the African American, which is also presumed to be correct. However the notion that institutional subjugation of African Americans was revealed - and thus influenced - by German and Japanese propaganda is overly simplistic. It presumes the Hitler and Hirohito governments had extraordinary influence over America's geopolitical position through their own state declarations. More likely, the visceral reaction Americans expressed toward ethnic cleansing and the occupation of the Asian mainland forced Americans to confront their own hypocrisy. Though this too is incomplete. The legitimacy of foreign propaganda threatened national security less than the implications of ignoring a significant bloc of the domestic labor force. Just as World War II improved the conditions of women and ethnic and religious minorities - by calling them into military and industrial service - it also improved the conditions of African Americans by no small degree. This opinion does not run counter to Blackmon's thesis, but leads me to think the author did not take in the full view.

Slavery by Another Name leaves the reader considering a tricky question. Do the modern companies who descended from business that used slave labor in the past - or even used slave labor themselves - carry any responsibility today? I presume most people will be inclined to answer quickly. But after careful consideration, only the most strident ideologue will stand firm by an absolute "yes" or "no." (The author does not reveal much about his own view.)

Though Slavery by Another Name is a stirring narrative, with obvious social benefit to enriching the mosaic of American history, it may not be deserving of the Pulitzer Prize. The many case studies Blackmon selected to advance his thesis are too similar to one another. The veracity of institutionalized peonage can be argued without the use of so many redundant anecdotes. Also, the baroque prose is proof of the author's poetic soul, but history does not require the same adjectives one might use to embellish harlequin romance. "The gossamer facade of judicial process took only three days to weave" (p. 185). "Gossamer facade?" Really? The latter is a personal gripe, but one that nagged me throughout the book. Gripes are not necessarily criticism, though, and should not be allowed to discourage would-be readers from exposing themselves to a worthy (and cool-headed) history of one of America's dark chapters. Seldom is a book so relevant to both a regional and national audience. For this, Douglas Blackmon deserves recognition.