ABSTRACT

This chapter and the next explore the relationship between very familiar themes in world history and the topic of childhood: first, the impact of civilization, including comparisons among different civilizations; and second, the results of further changes within the major civilizations, particularly those associated with the spread of deeper religious commitments. All world history surveys note the rise of civilization as a particular form

of human organization from about 3500 BCE onward, spurred by technological changes such as the use of metal, though still embedded within agricultural economies: as more complex societies, civilizations involved a greater importance for cities amid rural majorities, the introduction of writing, and more elaborate expressions of high culture. Organized states also introduced more formal legal systems. The question is, how the rise of civilization affected childhood, already considerably transformed through agriculture itself. We know too little about the earliest, river valley civilizations to do much with childhood beyond some basic statements, but the picture changes amid the flowering of the great classical civilizations in China, India, and the Mediterranean/Middle East, from 1000 BCE or so until the collapse of the classical empires by the fifth or sixth centuries CE. The classical civilizations did not embrace all the world’s territory – they did not, for example, reach into Russia, Scandinavia or sub-Saharan Africa – but they did increasingly tie large regions together, most notably in China (with influence on other East Asian neighbours), in the Indian subcontinent, and in the Mediterranean. Each of the classical civilizations generated characteristic belief systems and artistic styles, political patterns, and trade and social structures that inevitably involved childhood. Further, even as the classical civilizations themselves drew to a close, all three transmitted legacies that endured well into more recent centuries, with some echoes even today. It’s been argued, for example, that children in India are encouraged to have particularly lively imaginations because of vivid traditions of storytelling, and some belief that reality varies with social position – being different for a warrior, for example, than for a merchant – and religious achievement. This is speculative, to be sure, but it suggests connections with

Indian traditions born more than two millennia ago, when characteristic classical patterns were being defined. The obvious invitation involves comparing how different classical societies

created somewhat different childhoods, within the common constraints of agriculture. The Indian example directly suggests some ongoing distinctions of childhood, launched in the classical period, that survive even today. But a more fundamental comparative question looms even larger: is commonality or contrast the best way to approach the patterns of childhood in each of the great classical civilizations? Even before the classical period, civilization itself, as it first developed in

key river valleys, brought several changes to childhood. The first may simply have codified characteristics of earlier agricultural societies: children were legally tied to the social group in which they were born. Early Mesopotamian laws, like the Hammurabic Code, specified most notably that children born of slaves inherited slavery unless explicitly freed. Other social statuses were inherited as well, including nobility. These qualities became characteristic of agricultural civilizations. Roman law would pay detailed attention to the same kinds of questions, specifying, for example, that a child of a slave father but free mother would in fact be free. The second change involved formal laws themselves, the result of the

development of organized states. Law now helped define childhood and children’s obligations. Many early civilizations used laws to emphasize the importance of obedience. Not only Mesopotamian but also Jewish law specified the rights of fathers to punish disobedient sons; in Jewish law, this could include execution. Thus, in Deuteronomy in the Bible: “If a man have a stubborn and rebel-

lious son, which will not obey the voice of his father, or the voice of his mother. … Then shall his father and his mother lay hold on him, and bring him out to the elders of his city. … And they shall say unto the elders of his city, This our son is stubborn and rebellious, he will not obey our voice; he is a glutton, and a drunkard. And all the men of his city shall stone him with stones, that he die.” River valley civilizations also recorded many sweet moments with chil-

dren, in play and as they grew up; but the legal framework was significant as well. There were also a few cases, in early civilizations such as Phoenicia, of child sacrifice as a religious rite. The law codes of early civilizations also paid a great deal of attention to the

issue of inheritance. It was vital to minimize dispute and at the same time assure the intergenerational transfer of property. But inheritance codes also guided different treatments for different kinds of children – older boys versus younger ones in some cases, boys versus girls in almost every instance. Finally, insistence on inheritance codified a key disciplinary tool for children themselves, essential to help keep them near the family and provide labor service into the later teenage years if not beyond. The possibility of

withholding inheritance from a child who did not properly serve the family, though not always effective in curbing children’s escape or disobedience, formed a central feature of the context with which agricultural civilizations surrounded childhood. Finally, early civilizations had writing, and this for a small minority of

children meant schooling. Mesopotamian clay tablets survive that record the lessons of students, and also parents’ admonitions that children study hard. They also record many punishments of laggard students, mainly through caning. The child’s experience of early civilization could be harsh. For every story of the child who “delighted” his father with his lessons, there is another of a boy, late to class, “afraid and with pounding heart,” who not only is caned, but whose teacher bribes him to induce the parents to invite him to dinner. The advent of schooling and writing also means that we end up knowing far more about the upper-class experience, the only one that normally permitted literacy, than about the majority of children, and also more about boys than girls. The river valley civilizations did not, for the most part, leave sufficiently

elaborate records to make comparisons very meaningful, except around really unusual practices such as Phoenician sacrifice, or the absence of female infanticide in Egypt. There is, however, one exception, developing toward the end of the early civilization period (from 1100 BCE onward) on the shores of the eastern Mediterranean. The Jewish religion, thanks to abundant religious documentation and the ongoing lifespan of the religion itself, allows some glimpses into childhood in one particular early culture, beyond formal law. Jewish practice surrounded childhood with elaborate rituals, from early circumcision for boys (designed in part to set Jewish children apart) to religious confirmation, also for boys, with the Bar Mitzvah at age 13 indicating religious coming of age. Early Jewish practice accepted infanticide through leaving unwanted newborns to die, but the religion surrounded other child deaths with greater sorrow than seems to have been common in other early societies, including the need for empathy for parents who had lost a child. Family responsibility for religious upbringing included considerable emphasis on education, including the ability to read and, for many boys, Talmudic scholarship. In sum, early Jewish tradition incorporated some common features of childhood in early societies, but marked off distinctive paths as well, including an esteem for literacy that would remain distinctive for many centuries. With this important exception, developing in a transition period between

the early civilizations of Mesopotamia and the emerging classical period, it was the classical civilizations themselves that provided richer documentation on the nature of childhood, and a number of specific traditions that – as with Judaism – would shape particular childhoods well beyond the classical period. The three great classical civilizations differed in many respects as they

developed after about 1000 BCE. Contrasts abound: Chinese science, more

pragmatic than the more theoretical approaches preferred by Greek philosophers; Indian religiosity, contrasted with the more secular elite cultures of China and the Mediterranean; Chinese political centralization, compared with Indian and, usually, Mediterranean decentralization; India’s caste system, contrasted with Mediterranean slavery or the Confucian-based social definitions in China. Of course, many features were shared as well: the classical civilizations were all expansionist; they all worked to provide new integrating mechanisms in cultures and artistic styles, political institutions, and commercial systems; they were all patriarchal; and they all depended on an agricultural economy. Contrast, however, typically trumps similarities in most presentations of the classical societies from a world history perspective. There is every reason to expect that this would apply to childhoods as

well, particularly given the sensitivity of childhood to particular cultural formulations. Explicit comparisons, however, have been rare, so we should begin with a question rather than a set of assumptions. Were there enough basic differences in beliefs and laws to override some of the common requirements for childhood in agricultural economies, to create really significant differences? China offers an initial baseline for comparison, after which the real analytical challenge can be taken up with materials from the Mediterranean and (more briefly, in light of available scholarship), India. China was the first of the classical civilizations to take reasonably clear

shape, from a bit before 1000 BCE onward, and its culture and institutions shaped a number of distinctive features of childhood. Confucianism and Chinese political institutions, particularly as these solidified during the Qin (221-202 BCE) and Han (202 BCE-220 CE) dynasties left a particular mark, clearly tying childhood to broader features of the society. But other factors also entered in, including a complicated marriage pattern and, even more, an intense definition of motherhood, some of which complemented the official approach but some of which coexisted more uneasily. Confucianism was a secular philosophy that stressed hierarchy and order,

prescribing formal manners and ceremonies to curb individual impulse and promote harmony. It deliberately sought to connect childhood and the family to larger political values. The hierarchical thrust, seeing society divided between upper class and lower classes, was largely replicated in childhood through a separation between an elite childhood seen in terms of education and a more standard childhood devoted to work. Confucianism also produced a situation – and this was true of all classical civilizations to a great extent – in which information about the conceptions of the upper class concerning childhood is far more abundant than for the majority. Hierarchy also showed in the practice of wetnursing in many upper-class families, when a lower-class woman who had recently herself given birth was brought into the household to breastfeed a new baby. Many families could become quite attached to a wetnurse, but it was also clear that the practice was an

expression of privilege, freeing wealthy mothers from an obligation they might find unpleasant. Confucianism directly determined a number of characteristics for child-

hood itself. Elaborate rules specified how children should mourn a parent who died – Confucius himself recommended three years for both father and mother, the same amount of time a child had spent nursing. Etiquette also governed how parents should commemorate a child who died, with considerable emphasis on not displaying much emotion. Little public attention of any sort was due children who died young. Many parents insisted on great formality with their children, who were supposed to greet their elders carefully every morning, and in summer ask if they were cool enough, in winter if they were sufficiently warm. A later Confucian manual extended ceremonialism still further: in a large extended family, each family member took an assigned place in the great hall on a holiday twice a month. “The eldest son goes to the left of the door, and the eldest daughter to the right of the door, both facing south, and all their brothers and sisters bow to them successively. … All the husbands then go up the western steps and the wives go up the eastern steps, where they receive the bows of all the children … when this salutation is completed … the children step up to the east and west sides of the door and receive bows from their younger brothers and sisters.” Confucian culture, with its great concern for family preservation and pos-

terity, also encouraged an unusual amount of commentary on infant and child health. Government support and the practical nature of Chinese science also helped promote a large number of pediatric manuals, dealing with issues such as keeping infants warm, dealing with digestive problems, and nursing. This was a pattern that would continue later in Chinese history, and would involve growing popularization. Whether the results actually promoted better infant health cannot be easily determined. A robust population may suggest some success, but the Chinese did not really break through the high level of mortality common in agricultural civilizations, nor did they abandon infanticide. The production of materials was impressive, nevertheless, and may have contributed to more recent Chinese enthusiasm for children’s health gains. Chinese art and literature offered little by way of appreciating the qualities

of individual children. Rather, children were used as symbols and as models for moral lessons, as with a story about a child who insisted on respect for ageing grandparents when his own parents seemed more nonchalant. Children in sculpture or painting were generic idealizations. A child’s birthdate was carefully noted, down to the exact time, because this was essential for later astrological calculations, including when would be a good time to marry; but birthdays were not celebrated. Rather, the advent of the New Year was taken to advance everybody’s age (even for someone just born the day before), a collective approach obviously designed to minimize individual experience.