By what label should historians refer to the “Catholic side” during the era of the Protestant Reformation? In John O’Malley’s, Trent and All That: Renaming Catholicism in The Early Modern Era, the reader is introduced to the complexities surrounding the nomenclature of distinct historical eras, and more specifically, to the problem of naming the Catholicism of the late medieval/early modern era. The author admits that he was once ambivalent to the semantics of Catholic nomenclature for this period, but practical decisions (such as what to name Encyclopedia entries and monographs that he was working on) led him to reexamine the significance of the issue. As a result, O’Malley eventually came to the conclusion that the two most frequent designations in the English language for the Catholicism of this era, (i.e., “Counter Reformation” and “Catholic Reformation”) were inadequate and misleading, especially “when [they were] taken as all-inclusive terms for the much larger reality of Catholicism itself” (John W. O’Malley, Trent and All That (Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 2002), p. 2). Throughout the work, the author argues that terms are not neutral; they invite investigation in certain directions but they also direct attention away from other avenues of inquiry. In other words, they filter and exclude just as much as they allegedly describe. Consequently, O’Malley is disturbed by the careless and cavalier way that terms like “Reformation” are being applied to the Catholicism of this milieu. In response to this concern, he argues for a three-fold solution to this taxonomic dilemma: 1) a welcome acceptance of the multiplicity of names that have arisen as positive descriptors of the era; 2) a more careful reflection in the employment of these terms by historians; and 3) the addition of “Early Modern Catholicism” as a more comprehensive designation than the others. He attempts to persuade the reader to accept his proposal principally by tracing the history of the various terms for the Catholic side, and indeed this review of the naming process constitutes the vast majority of the book. In the author’s own words, however, he suggests that, more than a mere acceptance of his proposal, he hopes that the main contribution of the book will be to:

“…help us view ‘the Catholic side’ with new eyes, so that we become more aware of a breadth, depth, and complexity that earlier historians frequently either missed or, more often, forced into an inappropriate or inadequate interpretive framework–by inadequate naming” (O’Malley, Trent and All That, pp. 9-10).

With this ultimate goal in mind, the author introduces the reader to the problem of names – “where they came from, who used them, [and] what prejudices they entailed” (O’Malley, Trent and All That, p. 6).

Book Summary
The book begins with a survey of the semantic landscape of the term “reform.” O’Malley argues that the term “reform” has a rich Catholic tradition that antedates the Protestant Reformation by approximately 500 years, and that it finds its genesis in the Gregorian Reforms, where the papal party (led by Pope Gregory VII) implemented a return to the allegedly more ancient traditions of canon law. In this sense, “reform” took the connotation, primarily, of a return to more “ancient discipline”(i.e., practices in conformity with the norms of canon law), and it eventually grew to include faith and practice (and it is in this sense that the Obervantists were a “reform” movement within the monastic orders). In spite of the Catholic heritage of this term (and it’s close association with an emphasis on the centrality of canon law), O’Malley argues that with the passage of time, the word “reform/reformation” came to be appropriated by Protestants and given a new sense (particularly since they divorced the term from any connection with canon law). By the late 17th century (especially in Germany) the term “Reformation” was firmly established in Protestant historiographical vocabulary as a distinct historical epoch and, as a term, it was equated with Protestantism. Following closely after the ascendancy of the term “Protestant Reformation,” was the emergence of a dependent concept – that of “Counter-Reformation,” a term which began to gain currency in the late 18th century, and which was equated with the Anti-Reformation efforts of the Roman Catholic Church. When these terms were used by Protestants, they were freighted with many assumptions and biases that were overtly hostile to the Catholic communion (particularly the assumption that the late medieval church was utterly and thoroughly corrupt and that there could be no genuine reform except Protestant Reform). In response, Catholic polemicists attempted to hang the label of “Revolution” on the Protestant enterprise, but the term never seriously competed for widespread acceptance, especially since “Reformation” (with all of its anti-Catholic baggage) had become so firmly entrenched in the Protestant historiographical register (coupled with the anti-Catholic discrimination practiced by the German academy). Throughout the modern world, Reformation (as applied to the Protestant side) and Counter Reformation (as applied to the Catholic reaction against Protestantism) reigned supreme, despite the varied history of acceptance in various European countries and various nuances that the terms carried in different cultures.

It was in this context that Roman Catholic scholar Hubert Jedin published his seminal essay in 1946 entitled “Catholic Reformation or Counter Reformation?” Jedin, as a result of his extensive studies of 16th century Catholicism (and particularly his expertise concerning the Council of Trent as reflected in his 4 volume history of that council), earned for himself the reputation as the most important living historian of the Catholic Church. Jedin’s influential essay argued for the legitimacy of the term Catholic Reform (and he used it to describe the reform beginning in the late middle ages (prior to the Protestant Reformation) and continuing into the 18th century) together with the term “Counter Reformation,” although when he used this term it reflected a primarily defensive Catholic posture against the “Protestant attack.” Additionally, while these two terms were innately related to each other (in fact it was the Catholic Reform that eventually provided the impetus for the Counter Reform movement) they were sometimes separable (so that Counter Reformation could be conceived of separately as a distinct historical entity). The tension that Jedin, and all Catholic historians, struggled with was how to properly apply the term “reform” to the Catholic Church of the 16th century while still emphasizing the strong continuity with the past that was the hallmark of 16th century Catholicism (especially as evidenced in the decrees of Trent). The way Jedin dealt with this difficulty was by stressing (quite abstractly) the “renewal” aspect of Catholic Reform. In any event, O’Malley acknowledges that Jedin’s historiographical vocabulary was not value-free, and his own judgment of the Catholic Reform and Counter Reform movements as a “miracle” betrayed his own biases. Further, Jedin’s emphasis on the essential place of the Council of Trent in Catholic Reform and Counter Reform (which resulted in his introduction of another term into an already crowded field - “Tridentine Era”) led him to focus exclusively on the ecclesiastical hierarchy of the church (i.e., “reform” for Jedin meant reform of the papacy, the bishops, and the priests). Indeed, for Jedin, Trent was the defining center for his new era of Catholic Reform and Counter Reform.

Although Jedin’s stature as a scholar of international prominence gained the nomenclature of Catholicism during the Reformation a new hearing, his proposals ultimately failed to gain international currency for a number of reasons. O’Malley argues that first, his vague conceptual usage of reform (read “renewal”) made it difficult for others to understand with precision what Jedin meant with the term. Second, Jedin tended to attribute a more determinative role for Trent than the evidence warrants. Third, Jedin lacked information about persons, movements, and institutions other than popes, bishops, and priests that reveal a more diverse Catholic reality. And finally, O’Malley argues that Jedin’s prejudices led him to make questionable judgments and assessments in his essay, especially with regard to the allegedly single-minded agenda of popes, bishops, and priests with reform in the post-Tridentine Era – an assessment that seems highly suspect in light of evidence to the contrary (O’Malley, Trent and All That, pp. 70-71).

In Jedin’s wake, debate continued to occur in Germany, France, Italy, and English speaking countries concerning the naming of the Catholic side of the Reformation, as reflected especially in the titles of books and essays produced subsequent to him. Since Jedin’s proposal failed to gain ascendancy, new terms (based especially on new historiographical traditions) were proposed which began to compete for acceptance. An emphasis (particularly in the French academy) on the importance of the study of the history of practicing Christians, and away from the history of great men and institutions led to the prominent emergence of the “social history” of Christianity, and new terms which reflected this wider perception of reality. This is especially seen with the publication of John Bossy’s work, Christianity in the West, 1400-1700, where he consistently eschewed employment of traditional terms like “Reform,” “Counter Reform,” and even “Tridentine Catholicism” in favor of “traditional Christianity” and “translated Christianity.” More new names emerged as a result of studies which examined visitation records from parishes and similar institutions, and subsequently Wolfgang Reinhard and Heinz Schilling proposed “Confessionalization” as the proper category for defining the Reformation era. With this term, these German scholars hoped to move the Reformation into a category that would facilitate discussion of the events as a process in the social history of early modern Europe (and away from traditional historiography which focused on political categories). As a result of the favorable acceptance of the category of “social disciplining” as an effective tool of historical analysis, the term “Confessional Age” has been slowly supplanting (in France and Germany at least) what has traditionally been otherwise referred to as the “Age of Counter Reform.”

In light of the vast proliferation of names for both parties (but especially for the Catholic side), O’Malley offers three basic suggestions as he points the way forward. As mentioned earlier, O’Malley argues that we should accept the multiplicity of names as a good thing, as long as we recognize that our categories are ultimately constructive, and therefore a necessary reflection of the imperfection of the epistemological process. He urges that, together with this acceptance, historians must be self-conscious in their choice of terms and “avoid taking a part for the whole” (O’Malley, Trent and All That, p. 126). Finally, he suggests that the term “Early Modern Catholicism” should be added to our historiographical vocabulary as a more comprehensive term for the Catholicism of that era.

O’Malley concludes the book with a brief analysis of the merits and demerits of the four names that have international currency (“Counter Reformation,” “Catholic Reform,” “Tridentine Reform,” and “The Confessional Age”). None of them are perfect, he argues, but each of them has enough merit to retain them in our historiographical vocabulary. Additionally, he conducts the same discussion for his proposed term, “Early Modern Catholicism,” where he argues that he intends for this term to complement the other terms, and not to replace them (O’Malley, Trent and All That, p. 140).

Critical Evaluation
This is a well-written book that concisely states the problem of historical nomenclature especially as it relates to naming Catholicism during the Reformation. In an able historical survey of the historical evolution of various terms used in reference to the Reformation, O’Malley argues that the prevalent terms that have international currency have, in fact, been conditioned by the religious and secular worldviews of the historians who proposed them – that is, they are not neutral (an epistemological situation which is widely accepted today in light of our post-modern era). He demonstrates this, principally by examining the mega-definitions that appear in the titles of literature (i.e., journals, books, Encyclopedia entries, etc.), which purport to explain the era of the Reformation. Additionally, O’Malley’s survey covers a wide range of naming conventions across a spectrum of different cultures (albeit primarily European) and he conclusively demonstrates the lack of consensus regarding what to name the Catholicism of the Reformation era. Further, it is difficult to argue with the author’s suggestion that the confusing state of what to name the Catholic side (in light of the multiplicity of suggestions) calls for a creative proposal which not only recognizes the validity of current terms, but offers an additional and perhaps more inclusive term to capture the broad reality of Catholicism during that time. Each of the four terms that he examined at the conclusion of the book have aspects that commend them as accurately describing a particular aspect of the reality of that era. For example, “Counter Reform” captures well the militant and aggressive Catholic program to eliminate Protestantism. It is a term that accurately expresses the visceral anti-Protestant sentiment among those involved in the Counter Reform movement. “Tridentine era” seems to neatly describe the essential role that pivotal council had on subsequent Catholic faith and practice. “Catholic Reform” takes into account the tradition of reform movements in the Catholic Church that antedated the Protestant Reformation and which continued into the Reformation era. “The Confessional Age” opens up a category that enables delineation of characteristics that are common to all ecclesiastical communions, and it has the further benefit of wedding church history to the broader developments in political and social history. Because each of these terms incompletely describe the greater reality of Catholicism, however, O’Malley seems correct in commending them each as proper referents for Catholicism of the Reform era, provided that historians heed his call to be self-conscious in their employment of them.

A difficulty with his proposal, however, may involve the new term (Early Modern Catholicism) that he has proposed as another term to consider in this discussion. To begin with, O’Malley argues that he is not suggesting that this term replace the other terms. Rather, he states, it is intended to serve a complementary role. Yet the fact that he suggests that this term should serve as a more comprehensive term for the Catholicism of the era (indeed it invites the other terms under its own “umbrella”) may belie a more ambitious agenda. If “Early Modern Catholicism” becomes the comprehensive umbrella term which denotes the broader reality of the Catholicism of the Reform era, presumably this name will head the titles of all subsequent literature (O’Malley’s own work bears this subtitle), and if this is the case, it is difficult to see how this term is not being offered as a replacement for the other competing terms. In what sense will these other terms have currency if O’Malley’s proposal is adopted? Further, As O’Malley himself has argued – terms filter, exclude, and direct attention away from certain avenues of inquiry. What does “Catholicism of the Early Modern Era” direct attention away from? In the mind of this reviewer, it (improperly) directs attention away from the significant definitional impact the Reformation had on the Catholicism of this era. Further, does “Early Modern Catholicism” really capture the vehement anti-Protestant sentiment of the Counter Reform movement and the Tridentine decrees? Perhaps even more relevant, in what sense were the decrees from the council of Trent (which emphasized more than any other council the continuity with the ancient faith of the church) a part of the modern era? O’Malley may have some more work ahead of him if he is to convince some readers of the ultimate utility of his alternate term.

Conclusion
In, Trent and All That, John O’Malley offers the reader a capable discussion of the evolution of the naming process of Catholicism during the Reformation. He has caused this reviewer to view the Catholicism of that era with “new eyes,” that recognize the diversity of the Catholicism of that age. His analysis is insightful and his suggestions prudent, although more work remains, perhaps, to convince some that “Early Modern Catholicism” really is capable of serving as a more comprehensive umbrella term for the Catholicism of the Reform era.