The Japanese Yamato Battleship: Could it have been Decisive in World War 2?

The Japanese Army’s Yamato Class Battleship was an extremely powerful battleship that was launched during World War II. The battleship had incredibly powerful defenses, and had it been in use earlier it could possibly have impacted some key aspects of the war. Here, Daniel Boustead returns and considers its effectiveness, ‘what if’ scenarios, and how events turned against the battleship towards the end of the war.

Yamato battleship during trials in October 1941.

The Yamato Class Battleship was the most destructive ship ever constructed in history. The Yamato Class was created to fulfill a specific technological, strategic, and tactical goal. The technical information alone about the Yamato Class leads to the conclusion it could defeat any ship on the seas, and had events gone differently for the Japanese Military the Yamato Class could have been a game changer! The changing situation of the Pacific War ultimately doomed the Yamato Class ‘s fate - it could have helped Imperial Japan win the Pacific War had the military situation been different and had the battleship been deployed earlier.

The Yamato Class was designed to defeat a huge quantity of enemy naval forces.  According to historian and author James Holland, “The Japanese realized they couldn’t possibly hope to catch United States and Great Britain in terms of numbers of warships so the principle behind it was if we can’t get the numbers we will have a qualitative advantage. So, you build an enormous battleship that is basically the equivalent of two or three and which is capable of taking on multiple warships at any one time”([1]). 

The tactical and strategic role that the Yamato Class was built to fulfill was the Imperial Japanese Navy’s belief that the fate of an entire war would be determined by a great naval clash involving Battleships (2). This theory was supported by the Battle of Tsushima which occurred on May 27th -May 28th 1905 during the Russo-Japanese War. Like the outcome of the Russo-Japanese War the Imperial Japanese Navy thought, that the war against the United States Navy would be decided in a single great naval clash involving Battleships ([2]). The Imperial Japanese Navy felt that this decisive naval battle would occur after the Japanese military forces seized the Philippines. The U.S. Military would then mount a military campaign to retake their colony of the Philippines and the Imperial Japanese Navy would then decide to engage the United States Navy in a place somewhere in the western Pacific when they felt the time was right to stop the American advance to retake the Philippines. The Imperial Japanese military forces and their government also wanted to seize the oil and other natural resources of China, the Dutch East Indies, Malaysia, Singapore, French Indochina, Brunei, and Burma. The Japanese Yamato Class was designed to both participate in this decisive struggle and sail across the vast Pacific Ocean.

Technologically advanced

The Yamato Class was a technological marvel that could wipe out any ship by its destructive firepower and was virtually impervious to any ship weapon. It was equipped with 18.1-inch Main Guns which could fire a 3,219 lbs. projectile at a rate of 1.5 rounds per minute (3). The range of Yamato Class’s main gun was 25 miles according to Battlefield historical archaeologist Dr. Tony Pollard (4). No other Battleship’s Main Gun has ever had a maximum range of this distance (5). 

The Yamato Class’s armor and other protection was unrivalled by any other Battleship. The total weight of the armor was 22,534 tons or 33.1% of the design displacement (6). The armored center section featured a main belt of just over 16 inches of armor inclined at 20 degrees, half of which was below the waterline. The lower armor belt was just under 11 inches in the magazines and 8 inches covering the machinery spaces. The ends of the armored citadel was covered by two transverse bulkheads that were covered by armor that was 11.8 inches thick. Deck armor was between 7.9 inches to 9.1 inches, which was thought to be capable of withstanding armor-piercing bombs of up to 2,200 lbs. dropped from 3,280 feet. The front of the barbettes was covered by 21.5 inches of armor plate with sides covered by 16 inches of armor, both specially hardened. The three main turrets had some 26 inches of armor on their face, 10 inches of armor on the sides, 9.5 inches of armor in the rear, and almost 11 inches of armor on the roofs. The conning tower was covered by a maximum of 19.7 inches of steel armor. A torpedo bulge was also fitted, which extended 9.25 feet from the main belt, from the waterline to the bottom of the ship. According to historian Mike Pavelec, Americans brought the Yamato’s 26.1 inches Turret Facing Steel Armor plate, which they found and recovered from a Japanese naval yard after World War II and ran a test on it (7). The conclusion from this test was that they were able only to penetrate the Turret Facing Armor at point blank range. This type of hit would never have occurred under wartime ocean warfare conditions. Therefore, the turret face armor of the Yamato was virtually impregnable. It would have been a suicide mission for any U.S. Battleship to engage the Yamato Class in combat.

American battleships

The American Battleships were thinly armored and outgunned by comparison to the Yamato Class Battleship. The Iowa Class Battleship was only equipped with a 16 inch Main Guns (8). The Armor on the Iowa Class Battleship was between 12 inches to 1.6 inches on the belt, armored deck was between 6 inches and 1.5 inches of armor, bulkheads were equipped with 11.3 inches of armor, and the main turrets were equipped with 19.7 inches of armor. It was considered the best American Battleship of World War II simply because it had a top speed of 33 knots. In contrast the Yamato Class only had a top speed of 27.5 knots (9) - although the Yamato Class could have still engaged and destroyed the Iowa Class Battleship as it was trying to run away because of the long range of its guns.  The reason for this is that the Iowa Class Battleship was so thinly armored.

What if?

The Japanese Military missed many opportunities to utilize the Yamato Class Battleship. It could have been a decisive war-winning weapon. Two examples of this were: Japanese airpower did not destroy two tank farms which contained millions of barrels of fuel oil and they did not destroy the indispensable ship-repair facilities during the Pearl Harbor Attack on December 7, 1941 (10). If the Japanese had destroyed the two tank farms and the ship-repair facilities at Pearl Harbor on that day, and then combined that with an air bombing and submarine shelling campaign led by the Yamato Class on the oil production facilities on the West Coast, and by a knockout sea and air strike on the Panama Canal, it would have crippled the USA’s ability to make war.  If the Japanese had commissioned the Yamato Class sooner, then they would have participated in this theoretical strike, and it would have made a decisive difference. Also, if the Japanese Military and Government had decided to both not attack Pearl Harbor and not invade the Philippines but decided to just focus on taking the British Colonies of Southeast Asia and the Dutch East Indies, then the American Isolationist political movement may well have prevented the USA from entering both the War in the Pacific and the War in Europe. Japan still would have succeeded in controlling most of Asia and had their decisive naval battle with the British - and not the Americans. However, all of this did not happen. The Yamato was not considered combat ready until May 27, 1942, and her sistership the Musashi was not commissioned until August 5, 1942 (11). By the time the Yamato Class entered combat the seeds for both the destruction of the Yamato Class and the Imperial Japanese Empire were being sealed.

Less effective?

The changing nature of warfare in the Pacific War ultimately doomed the Yamato Class. The Aircraft Carrier became the dominant and most effective weapon in the Pacific War. The effectiveness of the Aircraft Carrier was brutally demonstrated at such battles as Pearl Harbor, the Battle of Midway, and the Battle of the Philippine Sea. These and other such battles caused the Battleship’s influence to be substantially reduced. In addition, the appearance of American Fighter Planes such as the F6F Hellcat, F4U Corsair, P-38 Lightening, P-47 Thunderbolt, and the P-51 Mustang from the period of 1942 to 1945 marked the end of Japanese air supremacy in the Pacific. The fact that the Japanese no longer had air supremacy made the Yamato Class now very vulnerable to air attack. Lastly, in 1943 the Americans introduced a new explosive called Torpex, with twice the explosive power of TNT (12). This made the Yamato Class’s Anti-Torpedo defenses obsolete because the previous calculations of how much damage they could absorb was based on a warhead that was full of TNT and not Torpex (1). These factors would spell the destructive end of the Yamato Class. 

The sister ship of the Yamato, the Musashi, was sunk by American air power during the Battle of Leyte Gulf on October 24, 1944 (13). 1,376 Japanese survivors from the Musashi were rescued; however 1,023 Japanese sailors were lost during the American air attack (14). On April 7, 1945, the Yamato was sunk on its way to attack the American invasion off Okinawa (15). 3,063 Japanese sailors were lost during the American air attack on the Yamato, with only 269 survivors. The Americans losses during the air attack against the Yamato were ten aircraft and 12 aircrew.

No other battleship in history compares to the destructive power of the Yamato Class. The Yamato was created to meet the Imperial Japanese Navy’s need for a battleship to play a key role in their decisive battle strategy scenario. Unfortunately, the Yamato was not ready for Pearl Harbor.  The engineering marvel of the Yamato meant it could wipe out any ship opponent on the sea. If the Imperial Japanese Military had not made some fatal strategic miscalculations on the seas, then the Yamato Class would have been a war-winning weapon! However, this did not happen, and the advent of aircraft carrier warfare spelled an end to the Yamato Class. The Yamato was denied the chance of being a war-winning weapon because of military blunders committed by the Imperial Japanese Military. 

What do you think of the Yamato class battleship? Let us know below.

Now, you can read World War II history from Daniel: “Did World War Two Japanese Kamikaze Attacks have more Impact than Nazi V-2 Rockets?” here, “Japanese attacks on the USA in World War II” here, and “Was the Italian Military in World War 2 Really that Bad?” here.

[1] Holland, James. “Battleship Yamato”. Nazi Mega Weapons: German Engineering in WW II: World War II Mega Weapons. PBS. 2016. 

[2] Stille, Mark E. The Imperial Japanese Navy: In the Pacific War. New York: New York. Osprey Publishing. 2013. 12. 

3 Stille , Mark E. The Imperial Japanese Navy: In the Pacific War. New York: New York. Osprey Publishing. 2013. 137. 

4 Pollard, Tony. “Battleship Yamato”. Nazi Mega Weapons: German Engineering in WW II: World War II Mega Weapons. PBS. 2016.

5 Nazi Mega Weapons: German Engineering in WW II: World War II Mega Weapons: Battleship Yamato. Darlow Smithson  Limited Productions.  PBS and National Geographic Channels International. 2016. 

6 Stille, Mark E. The Imperial Japanese Navy: In the Pacific War. New York: New York. Osprey Publishing. 2013. 133. 

7 Pavelec, Mike. “Battleship Yamato”. Nazi Mega Weapons: German Engineering in WW II: World War II Mega Weapons. PBS. 2016. 

8 Hewson, Robert. The World War II Warship Guide. Edison: New Jersey. Chartwell Books, Inc. 2000. 44 to 45. 

9 Stille, Mark E. The Imperial Japanese Navy: In the Pacific War. New York: New York. Osprey Publishing. 2013. 141. 

10 Van Der Vat, Dan.  Introduction by Senator  McCain, John. Pearl Harbor: The Day of Infamy-An Illustrated History. Edison: New Jersey. Chartwell Books, Inc. 2007. 138. 

11 Stille, Mark E. The Imperial Japanese Navy: In the Pacific War.  New York: New York. Osprey Publishing. 2013. 138. 

12 Stille, Mark E. The Imperial Japanese Navy: In the Pacific War. New York: New York. Osprey Publishing. 2013. 136. 

13 Stille, Mark E. The Imperial Japanese Navy: In the Pacific War. New York: New York. Osprey Publishing. 2013. 139 to 140. 

14 Stille, Mark E. The Imperial Japanese Navy: In the Pacific War. New York: New York. Osprey Publishing. 2013. 140. 

15 Stille, Mark E. The Imperial Japanese Navy: In the Pacific War. New York: New York. Osprey Publishing. 2013. 141. 

References

Hewson, Robert. The World War II Warship Guide. Edison: New Jersey. Chartwell Books, Inc.  2000. 

Holland, James. “Battleship Yamato”. Nazi Mega Weapons: German Engineering in WW II: World War II Mega Weapons. PBS. 2016.

Nazi Mega Weapons: German Engineering in WW II: World War II Mega Weapons: Battleship Yamato. Darlow Smithson Limited Productions. PBS and National Geographic Channels International. 2016. 

Pavelec, Mike. “Battleship Yamato”. Nazi Mega Weapons: German Engineering in WW II: World War II Mega Weapons. PBS. 2016. 

Pollard, Tony. “Battleship Yamato”. Nazi Mega Weapons: German Engineering in WW II: World War II Mega Weapons. PBS. 2016. 

Stille, Mark E. The Imperial Japanese Navy: In the Pacific War. New York: New York. Osprey Publishing. 2013. 

Van Der Vat, Dan. Introduction by Senator McCain, John. Pearl Harbor: The Day of Infamy-An Illustrated History. Edison: New Jersey. Chartwell Books, Inc, 2007. 

The Incredible Cost of Medieval Cathedrals

In the modern West, many of us are preoccupied with the inaccessibility of houses. Prices seem inaccessible, to own a building has become the preserve of the rich or older generations. Building itself is an ‘unsustainable’ activity, requiring vast amounts of energy and materials. 

In the medieval period, the dynamic of building was far more extreme in its social effects and the resources needed. In this article we discuss the most economically demanding constructions of all: cathedrals. Alfie Robinson explains.

Basilica of Saint Denis, 1655.

The Hierarchy of Medieval Society

A cathedral gets its name from the Latin, cathedra, meaning ‘seat’, or perhaps more tellingly, ‘throne’. It refers to the throne-seat of the bishop that belongs to the cathedral. The connotations of a throne speak to two vitally important facts about the late-medieval church: its institutional wealth and its hierarchical nature. It is worth noting that these are factors that took a considerable amount of time to develop: early-medieval Europe had a much less consolidated and powerful church. Disagreements could still be made about the date of Easter; the Pope did not have a monopoly on the naming of saints.

In the course of the middle ages, this began to change. The twelfth century has been regarded as a ‘fulcrum’ century for some time now, and with good reason. With the help of some respected intellects, medieval life was shaped into that characteristic form which gives us the derogatory sense of ‘medieval’: a world both rigidly ordered and persecuting. Peter Comestor, the great mind who supposedly ‘ate’ knowledge (comedo, ‘I eat’, in Latin) was also a chief opponent of male homosexuality.[1] It is not widely known, but the idea that this sexuality was exceptionally sinful was not common currency in the medieval period. Not, at least, until the twelfth century. Likewise, the pursuance of heretics, Jews, sex-workers and lepers were present anxieties before the 1100s, but they were not as powerful as they were to become.

For the development of this controlling, monarchic society, one should turn to R I Moore’s Formation of a Persecuting Society: Authority and Deviance in Western Europe 950-1250. That book tells this story with considerable eloquence. But what it does not tell is the cultural history of the same period. The main coincident event, or rather series of events, was the building campaigns of the twelfth century onwards. 

A New Monumental Architecture

Gothic architecture, that quintessentially medieval mode, did not exist until about 1140. In this decade, a particularly ambitious abbot by the name of Suger constructed the west and eastern ends of Saint Denis, a cathedral north of Paris. Involved with these extensions were a number of technical feats, including an astonishingly complex ‘chevet’. This is the name given to the canopy of vaults at the eastern end of the church around the altar, three-dimensional stone structures that are both an engineering challenge to construct and a practical feat to carve. This structure is so complex that there is credible doubt as to whether the Abbot could have actually completed the amount of work he claimed, in a mere four years.[2]

What do vaults and persecution have to do with each other? The coincidence in time may be remarkable, but we cannot assume that one caused the other— the notion is absurd. Structures, however, and the societies that build them, are necessarily related. The payment, and who paid, for these structures is not just an economic question but also a cultural one.

In the early medieval period, there were few church buildings of a truly grand scale. Old Saint Peter’s, the now imaginary mother church of western Christianity is an exception that proves this rule. Were it not swept away by Michelangelo and others’ Renaissance work, viewers would probably be captivated by its great antiquity, but it was a fraction of the size of the present structure. Further away from the center of the faith, even the most important structures were rather small. Saint Denis’ nave, its central space, was rather old by the time of Abbot Suger, and if his accounts of pilgrimages are to be believed, woefully inadequate for congregations.[3] An even better example of the extraordinary difference between early and late medieval building, is the cathedral of Beauvais, also in France.

The nave and choir of this building are utterly mismatched. The nave, again supposedly the central space for congregations, is the size of a modest parish church. It dates to about 1000 AD and has a simple wooden roof. Attached to it is the stone colossus of Beauvais’ cathedral choir, its east end. The choir is multiple times bigger than the nave it is supposed to belong to.

Increasing prosperity and urbanization are the broader factors that enabled the medieval church to build bigger. But the path from the productivity of individuals in their day-to-day lives, to productivity in the masons’ yard and carpenters’ lodge is far from easy. Likewise, although certain cathedrals (Bourges, Chartres, Reims, Amiens) mostly in northern France were built in rapid campaigns, most building work in the medieval period was fitful.

Making Cathedrals Happen

To the present author’s knowledge, there is no such thing as a medieval building contract for a whole cathedral. Contracts that still survive in archives which stipulate costs, workmanship and materials belong exclusively to a class of more modest projects. Many of these are structures like water mills, or jettied wooden houses.[4] The very largest projects that medieval patrons contracted for were collegiate churches (for instance Fotheringhay collegiate church in the fifteenth century), or monastic dormitories (namely at Durham Cathedral, when the claustral buildings were reconstructed at the end of the fourteenth century).[5]

Instead of a contracted time period with an individual craftsperson, cathedrals had to be built by teams of workers. The ‘cash-flow’ for the projects was decided by benefactors’ generosity. Fabric rolls, the documents which compile a huge range of expenses for a given cathedral, also record names in the same way that public galleries often have rooms labeled in honor of a donor. Medieval donors usually hailed from the ranks of nobility, or from the clergy. High secular status was seen to enhance the status accrued by senior priests. As the Book of St Albans, a fifteenth century manual put it: “there is a gentleman [a noble], a churl’s [a non-noble] son made to be a priest, and that is a spiritual gentleman to God and not of blood. But if a gentleman’s son be made a priest he is a gentleman both spiritual and temporal.”[6] Besides, much of the time, the priesthood was simply drawn directly from the aristocracy anyway.

Sometimes these aristocratic clergy look as if they are radical defenders of faith at the expense of temporal, or secular power. Richard Scrope, archbishop of York in the early 15th century, was beheaded for his part in a rebellion over the crown’s taxes. Scrope, in fact, was no ‘proletarian’ bearing arms, but a member of a branch of the very wealthy Scrope family. He and his relatives donated vast sums of money to the construction of York Minster’s eastern end, and their stamp is made in the form of several coats of arms in painted stone which ‘hang’ in the very parts of the church they paid for.

More than voluntary gifts, though, historians must remember that the medieval church levied its own taxes, of many forms. Some of these were fairly explicit, like the ‘tithes’ (from ‘tenth’, Old English) which were taken, often in the form of grain. Monuments to these taxes survive in the form of tithe barns (originally filled with ‘tax’ in the form of grain) which can be found throughout northern Europe. Like the cathedrals, the earliest of these date to the twelfth century. 

Grandeur and Poverty

Some taxes, however, were implicit. A major and extremely problematic form of tax-like burden was the economic impact of pilgrims upon locals who lived near pilgrimage shrines and sites. It was mandatory for such people to provide food and shelter for these visitors, who could number in their thousands. Despite its reputation as ‘the age of faith’, even medieval people had their limits on the amount of economic suffering they could undergo, whether it stemmed from the church or not.

The costs of pilgrimage sites could often cause conflict, not always even at the hands of ‘downtrodden’ peasants but also with the help of outraged nobility too. In 1119, Count William II and his retinue broke into the cloister of Vezelay Abbey (an important pilgrimage site), beat and stoned the monks, among other humiliating assaults. Barbara Abou-el-Haj, the chief scholar on medieval economy and its relationship with violence, puts the contrast between the expense of building and the tensions they caused: “Abbot and town haggle over everything: the quotas of vines, the dean’s servants picking his quota of grapes, fishing and forest rights, pasturage [...] the worst violence in 1152-1155, followed a famine just after the west portal [grand ceremonial entrance] was finished.”[7]

A highly important observation by that most perceptive polemicist, St Bernard of Clairvaux (also 12th century, around the same time as Abbot Suger’s building projects), was that the visible presence of wealth in and around the cathedral would serve only to enhance the desire to give yet more money. As it is in Hamlet, “appetite grew by what it fed on”— or, in St Bernard’s own words: “wealth is derived from wealth [...] wherever the more riches are seen, then the more willingly are offerings made. Eyes are fixed on relics covered with gold and purses are opened” [Conrad Rudolph trans.].[8] This was the case not just for the most wealthy but the least wealthy: hagiographies are replete with instances of the very poorest giving their tiny earnings away, often in the form of wax candles to light holy spaces.

For a deeper understanding of the impact of building on medieval society, one should turn to the remarkable article, also by Barbara Abou-el-Haj: The Urban Setting for Late-Medieval Church Building: Reims and its Cathedral Between 1210 and 1240. Reims cathedral, as she details, was constructed in a campaign which extracted so much wealth away from the city that it actually stunted the growth of the urban zone, well into the early modern period. The burghers who had to navigate hostile taxes eventually did the same as their predecessors in Vezelay: they broke into the Bishop’s prison fortress, beat and murdered his men.

The expense of medieval building was not just economic but social, even moral. Resources could be endlessly funneled towards projects dreamt up by the clerical elite. The only limit to the marshaling of these funds was the breaking point of the community. That limit, in the end, is rather similar to the more famous peasant revolts caused by taxation itself: indeed the same revolts which could engage noble priesthood to take up arms against the state too. The interesting similarity between these two cases is just another demonstration of the fact that, in the medieval period, there was no distinction between secular and religious. 

What do you think of the cost of medieval cathedrals? Let us know below.

[1] Robert Moore, Formation of a Persecuting Society: Authority and Deviance in Western Europe 950-1250, Oxford: Blackwell, 2007.

[2] John James, ‘Could Suger Have Built the Choir of Saint-Denis in Four Years?’, AVISTA Forum Journal, vol.1, no2, (1997), 23-25.

[3] See Erwin Panofsky, Abbot Suger on the Abbey Church of Saint Denis and its Art Treasures (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1946).

[4] Louis Salzman, A Documentary History of Building in England Down to 1540 2nd ed. (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1967)

[5] Ibid.

[6] Grammar and spelling modernized. The Boke of St Albyns, after 1486,  Cambridge University Library Inc.3.J.4.1[3636], fol.51.r.

[7] Barbara Abou-el-Haj, ‘The Audiences of the Medieval Cult of Saints’, Gesta, vol.30, no.1, 8.

[8] Conrad Rudolph, The ‘Things of Greater Importance’: Bernard of Clairvaux’s Apologia and the Medieval Attitude Toward Art, Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 1990, 281.

The Paraguayan President who Brought his Country to Military Catastrophe – Part 1: Francisco Solano Lopez’s Earlier Life

Francisco Solano Lopez was president of Paraguay from 1862 to 1870. He led the country during one of the most devastating defeats in all history – the War of the Triple Alliance. Here, Erick Redington starts this fascinating series by looking at the years leading up to when Solano Lopez became president.

Solano Lopez in the 1850s.

March 1, 1870. In a swamp in a barely explored region of Northern Paraguay, Francisco Solano Lopez was meeting his end. It was not supposed to be this way for him. After all, he was the “Napoleon of South America,” wasn’t he? He had been raised from birth to lead, to command. How could he go from dictator of his home country, with the power of life and death over everyone and everything he surveyed, to dying in a no-account swamp in a place no one had ever heard of?

Early Life

Francisco Solano Lopez Carrillo was born on July 24, 1826, in Asuncion, the capital of Paraguay. His father, Carlos Antonio Lopez was one of the great men of his country, a man who served in multiple government positions under the strange and enigmatic rule of Dr. Francia, the dictator of Paraguay. The years after independence were dominated by the rule of Dr. Francia. The policies and style of this eccentric man would habituate the Paraguayan people to dictatorship and following orders unquestioningly. He would even take the title of “Supreme Dictator,” a title unthinkable to even the most hardened despot today. This would be invaluable to Francisco later in life when he would lead his country in the most devastating war South America has, or would ever, see.

At an early age, Francisco was brought into the army, as all young men in Paraguay were. From the time of independence, the country had had to defend itself from neighbors who craved its territory. To the south, many in Argentina wanted to reunite the old Viceroyalty of Rio de la Plata, which Paraguay had been a part of under Spanish rule. To the northwest, Bolivia had claimed the Chaco region, a barely developed territory with few people living there except native tribes. To the northeast was the South American colossus of Brazil. For Paraguayans, Brazil was the antithesis of their country. Paraguay was a republic, if ruled by a dictator, Brazil was an empire, the Western Hemisphere’s only monarchy. Paraguay had enforced social equality, to the point that marriage was banned at one point if you married someone of the same race. Brazil had a large slave owning plantation aristocracy with titles of nobility and an active slave trade. Brazil coveted Paraguayan land due to geography. The Paraguay River branches off the Rio de la Plata providing riverine access to the Brazilian interior of the Mato Grosso. A sense of being surrounded by enemies, a siege mentality, would shape, and in some ways warp, Paraguayan national consciousness and be one of the leading causes of the great war to come.

While in the military, Francisco would see battle with his father against the Argentinians. He would be made a Brigadier General at the age of only eighteen due to the influence of his father, who by this point had taken over from the now deceased Dr. Francia. Despite the nepotism, Francisco would take his military studies seriously. He studied fortifications and artillery. Fortifications and fixed defenses would be vital for a small nation surrounded by larger ones, each outnumbering Paraguay. Fortification would act as a force multiplier for the Paraguayans in the coming war.

Exposure to the World

When the military situation of the country allowed it, Francisco would be sent by his father abroad, a luxury not allowed to other Paraguayans. He travelled to several nations in Europe as minister, the most important of which for him was France. While there, he became fascinated with the French Second Empire and everything Napoleonic. He would purchase French military equipment, especially uniforms that were copied from the Napoleonic style. He would try to modernize his country’s military, a fact that belies the modern view of him as simply a martinet. He would even get the chance to observe military actions during the Crimean War in Russia. This experience would prove invaluable to him, and it gave him knowledge on the handling of large armies, and especially siege craft. The Crimean War was defined by the siege of Sevastopol, which saw the Allies of Britain, France, the Ottomans, and Sardinia besiege a Russian army that held out far longer than anyone thought possible. Viewing the siege from the besieger’s point of view would give him a unique perspective when the roles for him were reversed during the war.

For Francisco, perhaps the most important thing he brought back with him was Eliza Lynch, an Irishwoman who would go on to be his long-time mistress (marriage was a very strange thing in Paraguay, but that is for another time). She would be his constant companion, closest adviser, and the mother of his children. Some would see her as the devil behind the throne, others would see her and the children as the only comfort the President would ever have.

Leadership Apprentice

Francisco returned from Europe after his grand tour to become the Minister of War under his father. It was a position, at least on paper, that Francisco was eminently qualified for. He had military training all his life, he had observed the latest in military technology and tactics in Europe, and he had some innovative ideas regarding the defense of the country. Yet, the appointment would be used by opponents as an example of the nepotism of his father, and indicative of the way the Paraguayan Republic would be run until Francisco’s death. This view would be reinforced by Francisco’s appointment, just a few years later, as his father’s Vice President and obvious heir apparent.

Paraguay was seen by its neighbors as a strange place. For decades, it had been presided over by Dr. Jose Gaspar Rodriguez de Francia, the unquestioned dictator. Called "El Supremo," he was considered a revolutionary fanatic by most international observers. He had ruled Paraguay with an iron fist for over 25 years as part of a grand experiment in the implementation of revolutionary and enlightenment ideals. Francia had enforced isolation and attempted to create economic self-sufficiency. Absolute social equality was decreed between those of Spanish descent and the native Guarani people. The nation had repelled repeated attempts to come under the influence and economic dominance of, or be taken over by Brazil, Argentina, and Great Britain. Foreigners were regularly arrested and expelled. The mail was intercepted and read. The police would regularly arrest people in the middle of the night. All these facts would color foreign perceptions of Paraguay. Opinions ranged from the country being a little bit odd at best, and a malevolent dictatorship that needed to be suppressed at worst, but overall, very backward and an outlier in the modern world were the general thoughts on Paraguay, something like how a modern person would view North Korea.

When Dr. Francia died, his successors, eventually leading to Carlos Antonio Lopez, Francisco's father, maintained many of the political and social controls on the Paraguayan people. Despite this, the elder Lopez was extremely interested in building up the economic potential of his country. Lopez was a quite different man from his predecessor. Whereas Dr. Francia was seen as austere and severe, with a lanky appearance and reserved mannerisms, Lopez was overweight and seen as a glutton. Dr. Francia was concerned with his own revolutionary ideals, and the successful implementation of them. Lopez was interested in his country's, and his own by extension, economic benefit. If that meant breaking another taboo, opening the country to foreign contact, then so be it.

Lopez would bring in foreign advisors for military and economic development. New ironworks and foundries were opened to produce weapons. A river monopoly was offered to the United States, though this fell through. Relations were opened with Brazil and rebellious provinces in Argentina, which still claimed Paraguay. One of South America’s first railroads was opened. New iron works, mills, and processing plants were built to increase the economic and military potential of the nation. Military missions with young officers were sent to Europe to learn the latest in war. This is where the horizons of a young Francisco Solano Lopez were broadened. He was dazzled by the militaries of Europe. He was impressed with the great empires of Britain and France. He was determined when he went home to Paraguay, that when it was his turn, he would make his country great.

When his father died in September 1862, Vice President Francisco Solano Lopez moved to make sure the compliant Congress elevated him to the Presidency. His father had the right under the Constitution to name his own successor, but Francisco was not going to leave anything to chance. When he took power, he had grand plans to strengthen his country both internally and externally. However, any grand plans that he had would be very quickly interrupted by a foreign crisis that would lead his country to the brink of annihilation. 

In the brief time of peace that now President Lopez governed his country, he made sure he had total control like his predecessors. He had been head of the military since he returned from Europe, so there were no rivalries for leadership from that quarter. The Paraguayan Congress had been a pliant tool in the hands of his father, and this did not change with the son. Paraguay had a well-functioning police state originated by Dr. Francia. The people were under constant surveillance from neighbors, teachers, even their local priests. The Catholic Church in Paraguay had been nationalized just after independence and all correspondence with the Vatican went through the office of the President. Even the confessional was not sacred. Priests were “encouraged” to report seditious thoughts and criminal plots to the authorities. 

The intense police state belied the personal popularity and magnetism of Lopez. He was fluent in multiple languages and very well read. He could speak French to foreign diplomats and visiting travelers. He would speak Guarani, the local native language, to common soldiers and civilians to show he was one of them. He was one of the best travelled people in Paraguay at the time, had been leader of the military for years, always appearing in a fine French-modeled uniform, and cut a more imposing figure than his grossly overweight father and the spare Dr. Francia. These factors, combined with the awe the office of the Presidency was held, made President Lopez seem the perfect man to lead; soldier, statesman, the best prepared man to take the helm of the nation.

One of the most insufferable things in life is a person who has intelligence and charisma, and they know it. One of the greatest hindrances to the success of Lopez was his colossal ego. He was convinced of his own brilliance. His propaganda machine, newspapers, and the church, would put out only glowing stories and news about the President. He was perfect in every way; the people were told repeatedly. As one example, in Paraguay, even today, his birthdate is listed in 1827 not 1826. Lopez was born too close to the date of his parents’ marriage. To remove the blemish of being conceived out of wedlock, his birthday has been moved in official sources to 1827. Lopez was perfect and the people were to believe he was perfect as well. As would happen to many who had the type of upbringing he had, and laudatory propaganda, his press went to his head. An overinflated ego, and an overinflated sense of his own abilities and brilliance would be a major factor in the lead up to war.

South American Balance of Power

In the South America of the 1860s, peace was kept through a precarious balance between Brazil and Argentina. This balance had been tested several times since everyone concerned had achieved independence from their colonial overlords. Neither power would ever fully trust the other, and their struggles for dominance would influence the two small nations in the region.

The first war between the two countries was the Cisplatine War in 1825. This war saw Brazil and Argentina fight over control of what was called at the time the Cisplatine Province. As the southernmost province of Brazil, it gave the Empire an outlet onto the mouth of the Rio de la Plata, a strategic and economic artery in the area of South America with arguably the most economic potential. Further, access to the mouth of the great river would help Brazil access the interior provinces of the Empire through the river system. Brazil has a formidable mountain range on its east coast, hindering overland transportation and communication. The Rio de la Plata was to be the great highway to the Brazilian interior.

A few years after the adoption of the Brazilian Constitution, which granted autonomy to the province, the people were encouraged to revolt by the newly independent Argentina. The Argentinian leadership had plans to bring the entire Rio de la Plata River valley under their control. After a war that lasted several years, Great Britain brokered a peace. In that peace, the Oriental Republic of Uruguay was created from the Cisplatine Province to serve as a neutral buffer state between the two nations. One concession given to Brazil in the war was a promise of free navigation of the Rio de la Plata. 

For the next forty years, there were many disputes between Brazil and Argentina, but one of the main points of contention for Brazil was to maintain their influence in Uruguay. Since independence, Uruguay had been internally divided. The two groups who constantly battled for political control were the Blancos and the Colorados. They were more than political parties. They were groups that, to an outsider, seemed their only reason for existence was to hate each other. There was, of course, more to it than that, but that is for another time.

This state of perpetual crisis destabilized the balance of power in the whole region. Both Brazil and Argentina were suspicious of the others’ intentions in Uruguay. The Paraguayans were worried that if Uruguay were conquered by one or the other, or the balance of power in the in the region was disrupted, then Paraguay would be the next target. This sense of the balance of power was taken very seriously by Francisco Solano Lopez. The “Marshal,” as was his preferred title, was deeply concerned about the politics of Uruguay when, in 1864, civil war erupted in the country between the Blancos and the Colorados.

Marshal Lopez’s father, Carlos was far more cautious than his son. He had not intervened in multiple Brazilian interventions in Uruguay over the years. While he was interested in opening his country more that Dr Francia was, he was not interested in creating formal alliances or opposing factions in the region. Marshal Lopez, however believed that the Colorado uprising in Uruguay was a Brazilian plot to gain hegemony over the region. The Colorados had received support from Brazil, while the Blancos had received support from Paraguay, as well as from rebel factions within Argentina in the past. These facts, combined with the traditional Paraguayan state paranoia, factored into the Marshal’s mind that Paraguay, and by extension, he, was being targeted.

Brazil would intervene in the Uruguayan War, ostensibly to protect Brazilian lives and property, which would lead to a decisive Colorado victory. The Marshal could not abide by this, as it destroyed the precious balance of power. At the start of the Brazilian intervention, he had sent a message to the Brazilian government, attempting to dissuade or intimidate (depending on how you looked at it) the Brazilians into not crossing the border. The attempt failed. The Paraguayans seized a Brazilian ship, the Marquês de Olinda. This would be the casus belli for the Brazilians to declare war on Paraguay. Thus, would begin the most devastating war in the history of South America, and the great drama of the life of Marshal Francisco Solano Lopez.

Now read part 2 on the start of the War of the Triple Alliance here. 

What do you think of the pre-president life of Francisco Solano Lopez? Let us know below.

Bibliography

Saeger, James Schofield. 2007. Francisco Solano Lopez and the Ruination of Paraguay: Honor and Egocentrism. Lanham, MD: Rowman & Littlefield.

Whigham, Thomas L. 2002. The Paraguayan War, Volume 1: Causes and Early Conduct. Lincoln, NE: University of Nebraska Press.

———. 2005. I Die with My Country: Perspectives on the Paraguayan War, 1864-1870. Edited by Hendrick Kraay. Lincoln, NE: University of Nebraska Press.

———. 2017. The Road to Armageddon: Paraguay versus the Triple Alliance, 1866-70. University of Calgary Press.

Incan Brain Surgery: An Analysis of Ancient Neurosurgery

The Inca Empire began in 1438 and lasted until 1572 with the final Spanish conquests of Incan strongholds. But what is little known is that the Incans were notable for brain surgery, with very good success rates for the time. Roy Williams explains.

Inca brain surgery. Source: Thomas Quine, available here.

Many understand the Inca to have been a warlike people with advanced technology capable of creating cities like Cuzco and Machu Picchu high in the Andean mountains. However, few have heard of the Incan technological advancement of successful brain surgery. In a time where medical technology in Europe stood decidedly minimal, the Inca had mastered a technique that is estimated to have success rates ranging from 70-90%.

The style of brain surgery regarding the Inca is known as trepanation. The surgery of trepanation requires removing the scalp tissue and boring a hole in the skull of the patient to allow a reduction of swelling and a draining of fluid. This procedure is believed to have been used to reduce brain swelling caused by head injuries as well as to treat mental illness. The Inca version of the surgery of trepanation did not include anesthetic and would have been extremely painful for the patient. Using obsidian blades, physicians would cut away the scalp tissue and scrape the bone of the skull carefully to open the cranial cavity. While this technique has been used in the ancient world by other civilizations, no other civilization has been recorded with success rates like the Inca. Scholars believe that the Inca refined the surgery over many years and ultimately discovered a suitable method of removing the bone of the skull as well sealing the wound in an effective manner. Discoveries regarding the Inca practice of trepanation point to the use of gourd slivers as a means of sealing the wound in a manner that prevented bacterial infection and allowed for healing. The gourd slivers would act as an airtight seal allowing the area to heal properly. 

Rate of success

In determining the relative success rate of Inca brain surgery, archaeologists have studied the skulls of individuals with evidence of trepanation procedures. In skulls that displayed bone growth around the outside of the hole where the surgery was performed, we can determine that healing had occurred following the surgery resulting in a successful surgery. In skulls where bone growth around the hole cannot be observed, it can be determined that the patient died, and the surgery was a failure. In the discoveries that have been made so far regarding the Inca practice of trepanation, 70 to 90% of all skulls discovered have shown growth allowing scholars to infer that 70 to 90% of all Inca brain surgeries were a relative success. 

When comparing this degree of medical technological advancement with other ancient civilizations, the Inca stand as a technologically advanced civilization. By comparison, the ancient Greeks and Romans also practiced the procedure of trepanation; however archaeological data indicates that the procedure’s success rate hovered around 50%. Regarding the procedure of trepanation, the Greeks and Romans of the ancient world used methods similar to the Incans with methods of either drilling or scraping the bone fragment from the skull to create an opening to the cranial cavity. One significant difference between the Greeks and Romans and the Incans was the use of the gourd sliver, which allowed the wound to heal free from bacterial infection. Whether the Inca understood the nature of bacterial infection and its danger regarding the procedure of trepanation is debatable, but the use of the gourd proved to allow Incan surgeries a higher success rate than their European counterparts. Hippocrates the renowned Greek physician of antiquity and Galen a physician of the Roman empire have been recorded documenting their experiences utilizing trepanation as a treatment for persistent migraines. Regarding the practice and mastery of this procedure, Galen of Rome recommended practicing this procedure on apes before moving towards humans. 

In context

When comparing the medical procedures and the technology of the ancient world, Mesoamerican technological achievement is glossed over at best. When comparing civilizations and their respective achievements too much emphasis is placed upon military prowess and societal stamina. While the Inca of Peru and Chile did not last hundreds of years, they still achieved technological advancements that rivaled the Greeks and the Romans. In taking a step back from the current Eurocentric narrative that puts so much emphasis upon European civilizations and their accomplishments, it remains tantamount for historians and scholars to appreciate the legacy of other civilizations throughout the ancient world including those of the Americas.

Now, read Roy’s article on the Armenian Genocide here and the 1980s Guatemalan genocide here.

Further Reading

https://www.sciencemag.org/news/2018/06/south-america-s-inca-civilization-was-better-skull-surgery-civil-war-doctors

https://www.pbs.org/wgbh/nova/article/inca-skull-surgery/

https://www.medicalnewstoday.com/articles/326281#The-early-origins-of-trepanation

http://ultimatehistoryproject.com/trephination.html

https://thejns.org/focus/view/journals/neurosurg-focus/23/1/foc-07_07_e11.xml

The 1803 Louisiana Purchase: The Start of the American Midwest

The Louisiana Purchase was the purchase of a vast area of land by the United States from Napoleonic France in 1803. While France only occupied a small amount of the territory, it comprised vast swathes of what is now the American Midwest. William Floyd Junior explains the history of the territory and how the US came to acquire it.

The Louisiana Purchase on a modern map. Source: William Morris, available here.

The first administration of Thomas Jefferson (1801-1805) basically turned on one event, the purchase of the Louisiana Territory and control of the Mississippi River. It was the river, which occupied the President’s mind along with its free navigation, which would lead to the acquisition of the vast territory of approximately 828,000 square miles. Jefferson first began contemplating his vision about the time of the Revolution. In confronting the problem of Virginia’s frontiers, he thought of his idea as “Empire of Liberty.” In his first inaugural address, Jefferson spoke of the United States as, “a chosen country, with room enough for our descendants to the hundredth and thousandth generation.”

European Exploration

The story of the Louisiana Territory began as far back as 1519, when a Spanish sea expedition explored the Gulf of Mexico. This would be the first time that Europeans would site the mouth of the Mississippi River. In 1528, there was another Spanish expedition of some three hundred men travelling inland from the coast of Florida. After a torturous expedition, four emaciated survivors would reach a Spanish settlement in Mexico after wondering through southern Louisiana and much of the southwest for eight years.

In 1541, Hernando de Soto, the newly appointed governor of Cuba, organized an expedition of six hundred soldiers for the purpose of exploring the Louisiana territory. De Soto would die the following year of yellow fever. The force would be reduced by hunger, disease, and Native American attacks to about half of its original size, causing it to sail down the Mississippi to safer surroundings.

The first European settlers to move into the Mississippi Valley were French, who would come in from the north instead of the usual southern route. Samuel de Champlain became governor of new France in 1633 and would encourage his countrymen to expand further into the interior.

When King Louis XIV became ruler of France, he moved to shut the Spanish out of North America and curb British expansion. A great Anglo-French rivalry for control of the Mississippi Valley would ensue.

Robert Cavelier, sieur de La Salle, a young adventurer-explorer would name the territory he was exploring, Louisiana after the king. On April 9, 1682, La Salle planted a column and cross-painted it with “the arms of France.” La Salle would also formulate a plan for the colonization of the lower Mississippi Valley. La Salle would be murdered by two of his own men before he could establish settlement at the mouth of the Mississippi River. In the summer of 1684, France made peace with Spain. The peace and LaSalle’s failure led the French government to abandon immediate plans for attacking New Spain by establishing colonies on the lower Mississippi.

In September 1715, after being in power for seventy-two years, Louis XIV died. He would leave France and the empire bankrupt by the cost of years of war around the world. Several years after Louis died, the rivalry between England and France would gain momentum. France would go on to claim the entire Ohio valley. English leaders looked at Louisiana along with Canada as a wall confining their colonies to the Atlantic seaboard. The French continued exploring trying to find a route to the Pacific Ocean. By 1752, they planted the French flag at the foot of the Rocky Mountains. By the early 1790s, a mass migration had started dividing the country.

1800s

By 1800, France would reign supreme in Europe and Napoleon turned his energies to rebuilding his overseas empire. Louisiana and the Floridas were major elements of his grand design centered on Santo Domingo, the richest of the colonies. In the same year, Spain ceded Louisiana to France on October 1, by the Treaty of San Ildefonso. However, Spain refused to part with the Floridas. Napoleon would now mount an expedition to take possession of Louisiana at the port of New Orleans. Jefferson became aware of the retrocession causing a shadow to fall over his administration.

Napoleon planned to build a commercial bloc in the Caribbean Basin that consisted of the strategically important West Indian Islands Martinique and Saint Dominque which would be linked with Louisiana. The French in the Mississippi Valley would be President Jefferson’s first great diplomatic crisis. He had been a long- time friend of France since his days as ambassador in Paris (1784-1789), which made him familiar with French diplomacy and politics.

Although Jefferson had never been west of the Shenandoah Valley, his attitude about the Mississippi Valley and beyond was long-standing. When news that Spain had ceded its rights to Napoleon and France, Jefferson recognized this as a fundamental shift in the strategic situation. It both threatened American security and would block western expansion.

Jefferson’s instructions to Robert Livingston, the newly appointed American ambassador to France were very direct. The fact that France would now control the Louisiana region was a major disaster that “completely reverses all the political relations with the United States and will fill a new epoch in our political course.” It constituted, he believed, the greatest challenge to American independence and national integrity since the American Revolution. Despite prior friendships with France, the moment the French occupied New Orleans, the two nations became enemies.

Monroe mission

Livingston was more than capable, but he was not a Virginian. Jefferson wanted someone in Paris whom he could trust beyond any doubt. In effect, he would order James Monroe, who was at the time Virginia’s governor, to become a special envoy to France. Monroe’s instructions authorized the purchase of New Orleans and as much of the Mississippi Valley as possible. The boundaries of the French acquisition from Spain were not clear, but Jefferson was offering up to ten million dollars.

During the winter and spring of 1803, while the outcome of the Monroe mission was yet to be decided, Jefferson’s management of the prospective crisis was both smart and shrewd. He would see to it that an old French friend, du Pont de Nemours, was provided information about America’s intentions that could be leaked in the corridors of Versailles. 

When the Spanish official governing New Orleans abruptly closed the port to American commerce, Jefferson came under considerable pressure to launch a military expedition to seize both the city and the Floridas, abandoning diplomacy in favor of war with both Spain and France. In spite of Congress authorizing the president to raise eighty thousand volunteers for a military campaign, Jefferson would reject the idea and continue to pursue a peaceful outcome. Time and demography were on America’s side, justifying Jefferson’s patient approach.

Jefferson was also lucky in that Napoleon’s decision was not to just to sell New Orleans but the entire Mississippi Valley and the modern-day American Midwest. In the early morning of April 11, 1803, Napoleon announced to his Finance Minister Barbe-Marbois that, “I renounce Louisiana.” Within hours the French were enquiring if the United States had interest in the entire territory of Louisiana. Napoleon’s abrupt decision was prompted by the resumption of the Anglo-French war. Ambassador Livingston had complained in the past that negotiating with the French was impossible: “There is no people, no Legislature, no counsellors. One man is everything. He seldom asks advice, and never hears it unasked.” This was typical of Napoleon’s all-or-nothing style. The payment that Napoleon would receive would help subsidize his European army. This worked directly to Jefferson’s advantage. Napoleon’s losing of Santo Domingo was another reason why Napoleon was willing to depart with Louisiana.

Agreement

Livingston knew what to do. “The field open to us is infinitely larger than our instructions contemplated,” Livingston would tell Madison, and the chance “must not be missed.” Livingston and Monroe, now in Paris, negotiated a treaty which gave the United States the Louisiana Territory. The area was so big that the borders were not clearly defined by either party, for about fifteen million dollars or three cents an acre.

The news of the signing of the deal that reached Jefferson on July 3, 1803, was official but not direct. The news came in a letter from the two ministers to Rufus King who got the news shortly before leaving London, brought it with him on his return home, and sent it to Madison from New York. The report of the acquisition of territory west of the Mississippi surprised the American people more than it did Jefferson or Madison. They had learned of the prospect a number of weeks earlier and had approved a larger negotiation in a private letter sent to Paris. Nevertheless, Jefferson was still surprised by the scope of the deal.

The news of the Louisiana Purchase was not accepted favorably by everyone. In Boston George Cabot wrote to his friend Rufus King, the leader of New England Federalism, regarding the recent purchase as being advantageous to France. It is like selling us a ship after she is surrounded by a British fleet,” he said. He would also write that France was, “rid of an encumbrance that wounded her pride,” while obtaining money and regaining the friendship of the United States.

As Jefferson was taking in the news, he wrote to Merriwether Lewis concerning his exploration of the newly acquired territory, “In the journey which you are about to undertake for the discovery of the course and source of the Mississipi (sic) and of the most convenient water communication from thence to the Pacific Ocean . . .” This was a letter full of optimism but also realistic. Jefferson had now done all he could to control the largely uncontrollable nature of Lewis’s dangerous mission.

The official documents concerning the deal would reach Washington on July 14 and were not made public. However, a summary of them would be given out and the financial terms made public. The terms included a payment of $11,250,000 to France in six per cent stock, redeemable for fifteen years, and the assumption by the United States of the claims of its citizens against France in the amount of $3,750,000. For a period of twelve years French and Spanish ships and merchandise were to pay no higher duties than American in the parts of the ceded territory. Finally, the inhabitants of Louisiana were to be incorporated with the United States as soon as possible, consistent with the Constitution, and were to be secure in their personal rights in the meantime. The financing was arranged with the Anglo-Dutch Merchant Banks, Barings Brothers and Hopes, which in effect bought Louisiana from France and sold it to the United States, making nearly $3,000,000 from the deal.

Constitutional matters

On January 13, 1803, Jefferson’s Secretary of the Treasury, Albert Gallatin, would write to the President explaining his constitutional position regarding the purchase of the Louisiana Territory. He would sum up his opinion by stating the following:

1st. That the United States as a nation has an inherent right to acquire territory.

2d. That whenever that acquisition is by treaty, the same constituted authorities in whom the treaty-making power is vested have a constitutional right to sanction the acquisition.

3d. That whenever the territory has been acquired, Congress have the power either of admitting into the Union as a new state, or of annexing to a State with the consent of that State, or making regulations for the government of such territory.

Later in January, Jefferson would reply to Gallatin saying, “You are right in my opinion, to Mr. L’s proposition: there is no constitutional difficulty as to the acquisition of territory, and whether where acquired it may be taken into the Union by the Constitution as it now stands, will become a question of expediency. It must be assumed at this point that the administration recognized as constitutional the acquisition of territory by treaty. The point of what should be done with it would not be answered at this point in time. For Jefferson to have suggested any difficulties to Congress at this stage would have been to invite trouble. The Senate would finally approve the treaty by a vote of 24 to 7, sealing the deal.

What do you think of the Louisiana Purchase? Let us know below.

Now read William’s article on three great early influences on Thomas Jefferson here.

Sources

1.     Merrill D. Peterson, Thomas Jefferson & the new nation (New York: Oxford University Press, 1970), 745, 746, 747, 748.

2.     Alexander De Conde, This Affair of Louisiana (New York: Charles Scribner’s Sons, 1976),  4, 5, 6, 7, 13, 15, 20. 

3.     www.loc.gov/collections/louisiana.

4.     Joseph J. Ellis, American Sphinx: The Character of Thomas Jefferson (New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1997), 243, 244, 245, 246.

5.     Jon Meacham, Thomas Jefferson: The Art of Power (New York: Random House, 2012), 385, 387.

6.     Dumas Malone, Jefferson The President: First Term 1801-1805 (Boston: Little Brown and Company, 1970), 296, 297, 302, 312, 313.

7.     Letter from Thomas Jefferson to Merriwether Lewis, July 4, 1803, National Archives.

8.     Andrew Roberts, Napoleon: A Life (New York: Penguin Group, 2014), 324. 

Feminine National Personifications: Part 2 - Marianne (France)

Feminine personifications of nations are common around the world. Some popular examples include Britannia, Bharat Mata, and Marianne. Usually represented as goddesses, mothers, or queens, these entities embody their countries’ unity, liberty, strength, reason, and spiritual essences. As national icons, they impart to their people a strong sense of identity and belonging associated with their lands. In this two-part mini-series, Apeksha Srivastava highlights some changes in their portrayal with time, along with some similarities and differences among them.

In the first part of this mini-series, she looked at changes in the portrayal of Britannia and Bharat Mata with time. In this second part, she discusses the Marianne of France and some similarities and differences among these national personifications.

A World War II poster, translated as ‘Freedom for France.... freedom for the French.’

Marianne

The Liberal

The 1789 French Revolution saw personifications of “Liberty” and “Reason” combined into one figure, accompanied by the cockade of France and the Phrygian cap (worn by freed slaves in Greece and Rome). She symbolized the nation and replaced the monarch’s image on the new seal of the Republic in 1792. She personified the newly created state, representing the liberation of France [1]. 

Eugène Delacroix’s painting La Liberté Guidant Le Peuple was the first work that put Marianne within a revolutionary tradition (combative “Athena-type”), giving her a socio-political dimension. For many people, her naked upper body signified the liberty she took to defend her lands and children, overstepping the conventional standards [2]. Contrastingly, Daumier’s La Republiquedepicted Marianne suckling two children on her breasts. It represented her as a nourisher of her citizens (“maternal-type”). Agulhon’s book, Marianne into Battle[3], explains how she has been a bold personification of the popular ideals in 19th-century French politics and republic.

The Popular

Marianne continued to evolve in response to the needs of her nation. French political figures have manipulated her image to their specific purposes over different times. She is present on coins, stamps, statues, official buildings, and the official government logo. Other than unifying government-public relations, Marianne gave a more accessible image to France. Her portraits were modeled after French celebrities like Brigitte Bardot (1968), Michèle Morgan (1972), Catherine Deneuve (1985), Laetitia Casta (2000), and Sophie Marceau (2012)[4,5,6]. However, the origin of Marianne’s name still remains unclear. Some believe that it was the combination of Marie (Virgin Mary) and Anne. Others think that it came from Spanish Jesuit Juan de Mariana’s name or the image of politician Jean Reubell’s wife.

The Strong & Secular

Ni Putes Ni Soumises (2002) was formed against the violence targeting women in working-class suburbs largely populated by North African minorities, and Marianne here was represented as a sense of unity by women of different ethnic backgrounds. Overall, Marianne is a secular image but she is sometimes associated with shades of grey. The new emblem design for theOlympic and Paralympic Games Paris 2024 was recently revealed by the Organizing Committee and Marianne is a part of it[7].

In the Media

Marianne-jokes/cartoons/caricatures have been circulated in recent decades. After the signing of the Entente Cordialebetween England and France in April 1904, Marianne was seen in a number of sketches[8]. In another cartoon from 1898, China is being divided up by Victoria (the UK), Nicholas-II (Russia), Wilhelm-II (Germany), and a samurai (Japan). Marianne, a Russian ally, looks on[9]. In the German posters, Marianne very rarely defeated Germania[10]. Marianne’s continued association with entertainment, fashion, and media assured her rise as the “glamorous” personification of the French Republic.

Some Similarities

Although Britannia, Bharat Mata, and Marianne have their own biographies and share of controversies, they share some common characteristics. They embody love, patriotism, sacrifice, and righteousness, playing a significant role in uniting their countries. The mere lines of the nation-maps need such visual representations, to gain and uphold this collective consciousness and identity. Their ultimate purpose is to facilitate the emotional attachment of the people to their national territory. However, the roles of these ideal symbols of equality and justice are often modified due to changing political/social/economic conditions. Sometimes, they are the protectors, and other times, they need protection.

Britannia, Bharat Mata, and Marianne have some resemblance in terms of leading their countries into hope and success, recycling history/religion, and evolving with time. Such national identities never disappear and are always needed to build and rebuild the nations in one form or another. They also convey a diluted message of “woman-power”.

Some Differences

While Britannia (as a symbol) originated from the Romans and Bharat Mata was inspired by mother goddesses, Marianne translated some of the Virgin Mary’s duties to a national context. Even when Marianne is employed by right-wing politics, she can still continue to represent democratic France. However, some people believe that after 1947, Bharat Mata is not strong enough to depict democratic Indian politics because of her associations with a specific religion. Furthermore, Marianne seems to be more accepted and promoted by her nation’s government than Britannia and Bharat Mata. Another difference is the Bharat Mata temples as an attempt to create a composite religious and national identity. Such places of worship do not seem to be reported in the case of Britannia or Marianne.

Britannia, eventually, started being used to depict the untrue-and-forceful “civilization” of the barbaric colonial “others” in an attempt at self-glorification. In contrast, Bharat Mata was never utilized for this purpose since India never oppressed other regions/countries. Some people think that the Bharat Mata is heavily inspired by Britannia, a byproduct of the century-old direct British rule over the Indian subcontinent. But, others believe that she was derived from goddesses Durga/Kali/Mother-Earth, all of which were worshipped many years before the beginning of the British Raj.

Reflections

The first question that comes to mind is why do some nations choose female personifications? Perhaps, because it is a woman who gives birth and protects her children from danger. She teaches them the principles of life and can be identified with the image of Mother Earth. When turned into a mother/goddess/queen, this “woman” image seems to have an amplified emotional impact on people.

These symbols are tough yet gentle, magnificent yet ordinary, attractive yet simple, combative yet caring, and powerful yet submissive. However, even though the female is idealized, it seems that the male citizens are the major subjects who make most decisions. The woman is above man symbolically but is below them in reality. Nevertheless, there is also the fact that the loving maternal presence is eternal whereas the decision-makers change with time. 

Amidst all these circumstances, it is up to us to utilize these national icons for the betterment of the country and the world as a whole. Of course, the ideal situation is never realized, but constant efforts to get close to it will always help. For example, instead of looking at Britannia, Bharat Mata, and Marianne as goddess/mother/queen, if we try to associate their positive features and power with all girls and women of the respective countries, it would make them more accessible and beneficial to us. Understanding these symbols gives an idea of the past and present foundations of the country they belong to, and their further utilization can predict the path on which that country is headed. The final question that arises is, have we learned enough from the past that could, possibly, aid us to improve our future?

What do you think of these feminine national personifications? Let us know below.

Apeksha Srivastava completed her Master’s degree from the Indian Institute of Technology Gandhinagar, Gujarat, India. She is currently an aspiring writer and a second-year Ph.D. candidate at this institute. This article is based on an assignment she submitted for the course, Perspectives on Indian Civilization. 

References

1. Marianne goes Multicultural: Ni putes ni soumises and the Republicanisation of Ethnic Minority Women in France. Bronwyn Winter. 2009. French history and civilization: Papers from the George Rudé Seminar Vol 2.

2. Spectres of the Original and the Liberties of Repetition. Leora Maltz-Leca. African Arts. Vol. 46, No. 4 (Winter 2013), pp. 32-45 (14 pages). Published by: UCLA James S. Coleman African Studies Center.

3. Marianne into Battle: Republican Imagery and Symbolism in France, 1789–1880. Maurice Agulhon. Translated by Janet Lloyd. New York: Cambridge University Press or Éditions de la Maison des Sciences de l’Homme, Paris. 1981.

4. Icon-ising national identity: France and India in comparative perspective. Subrata K. Mitra and Lion König. National Identities, 15(4), 357–377.

5. https://frenchmoments.eu/marianne-and-the-french-republic/

6. https://kids.kiddle.co/Marianne

7. https://www.olympic.org/news/paris-2024-unveils-new-olympic-and-paralympic-games-emblem

8. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Marianne#/media/File:Germany_GB_France.gif

9. https://www.facinghistory.org/resource-library/image/imperialism-cartoon-1898

10. Symbiosis between Caricature and Caption at the Outbreak of War: Representations of the Allegorical Figure Marianne in "Kladderadatsch". Douglas M. Klahr. Zeitschrift für Kunstgeschichte 74. Bd., H. 4 (2011), pp. 537-558 (22 pages). Published by: Deutscher Kunstverlag GmbH Munchen Berlin.

America’s Long Lasting Legacy from World War One

World War One was notable for so many reasons. From understanding the current state of Eastern Europe to sewing the seeds of the Second World War, or understanding the falls of both the Ottoman Empire and Tsarist Russia. The war also influenced the way the U.S. conducts foreign policy. Alan Cunningham gives his view.

U.S. President Woodrow Wilson returning to America after the Versailles Peace Conference in July 1919.

American involvement in the First World War resulted from both the German Empire’s targeting of American ships via unrestricted submarine warfare and the sending of the Zimmermann telegram from Germany to Mexico. Wilson had the capability to claim that the U.S. was under threat from attack and did so, eventually contributing to the Western European war effort significantly and assisting in bringing the war to an end. From a strategic standpoint, Wilson’s overall stated goal was peace - he wanted the world to have the same ideals and beliefs that the United States itself had, or claimed to have. He repeatedly tried to broker a peace agreement between the warring factions.

I would argue that the most important result of U.S. intervention into the First World War was the retreat back into isolationism. Prior to WWI, the U.S. had been largely keeping to itself, largely engaging in domestic matters, and externally when the country was threatened (or perceived to be threatened) by a foreign nation within its sphere of influence. From the end of the Civil War to the First World War, the United States was becoming more involved in the global scene (with the taking of, what were essentially colonies, in the Philippines and Cuba in the Spanish-American War and multiple interventions in Mexico and Latin America). Despite this, the American public and political leaders retreated inward and left the global scene, instead focusing on “internal growth and development” by increasing tariffs, “that were enacted to restrict the influx of imported goods, thereby increasing domestic production”. While this was the initial motivation factor throughout the 1920s, the later collapse of the U.S. (and global) economy from 1929 further ingrained the idea that the U.S. should focus on domestic issues. The fact that congressional inquiries and anti-war books (USMC Gen. Smedley Butler’s War is a Racket among them) discussed wartime profiteering also put off many Americans on going to war for corporate desires.

Lack of commitment to the League of Nations

While these are certainly legitimate concerns for not going to war or becoming involved in the global stage, it is also possible that, had the U.S. been more committed to the League of Nations in the 1920s and 1930s, a stronger, global force may have been created that could have prevented Hitler’s rise to power, the rise of Fascism in Europe, and minimized the effect of the global economic depression of the 1930s.

David Carlin, a graduate of Williams College and a member of the United Nations Environment Programme Finance Initiative, wrote in an article on the Second World War that, “Poor Western leadership allowed the Nazi menace to grow to monstrous proportions. This catastrophic failure in leadership offers important lessons for decision-makers today… [in 1935] given the early stage of Germany’s military preparations, Western pressure could have easily neutralized the military threat. Failing to act when the stakes were low was the West’s first mistake.” Having a strong, global power like the League of Nations, with support from the largest and strongest nations in the world could have assisted in many problems that arose from the Treaty of Versailles and the ending of the First World War.

The First World War, while highly important, is not discussed or remembered enough in the United States today. I hardly recall learning anything substantial about the conflict in my high school and even some college history courses; for the most part, it was summed up as an international conflict in which the U.S. entered late and won the war.

Yet, the global conflict has had a long-lasting and important impact upon the U.S. in more ways than one. One of the biggest impacts in the United States was the fact that women were able to play much more of a role in society and this eventually helped to pave the way for voting rights. David Smith, a correspondent for The Guardian, has also said that, “The war was a catalyst for the great migration of African Americans, and those who returned from the war, finding inequality intact, demanded civil rights. In addition, the conflict heralded the rise of conscription, mass propaganda, the national security state and the FBI. It accelerated income tax and urbanisation and helped make America the pre-eminent economic and military power in the world”. Not only this, but medical advancements and improvements, such as, “…screening for tuberculosis, treatment for tetanus, vaccines for typhoid, prevention of venereal disease and disinfection for surgery” came about during and in the aftermath of the war.

Without doubt, many economic, social and cultural achievements and advancements came about from World War I. The First World War’s greatest and most long-lasting impact upon the world has been in the way the United States defines itself and the role the country should have in global politics and affairs.

The impacts

The United States has often desired not to focus on foreign matters, but to look inwardly at domestic issues. This struggle is illuminated very well by the aftermath of World War One, in which the U.S. kept out of the League of Nations and retreated to focus on the economy and social issues, more domestic issues. This is the most important and long lasting effect as the U.S. still, as a country, has not been able to decide its place in the world. The desire of the public to focus on internal issues (such as the 2008 banking crisis) instead of the U.S. intervention in the Middle East (combined with the unclear strategies, controversies around COIN (Counterinsurgency), and the problem of trying to fight global terrorist groups) is a more recent example of this. The 2016 Presidential election of Donald Trump, a blatantly isolationist figure, also shows how many Americans desire not to be involved in foreign matters and become a “strong, isolationist” power.

This, in my view, is why the way in which the U.S. conducts foreign policy measures and engages in the world around them is one of the largest and longest-lasting impacts of the First World War.

What do you think of the influence of World War One on America? Let us know below.

The First British Man to be Shot for Desertion in World War 1: Private Thomas James Highgate

On November 8, 2006, 88 years after the end of World War I, a long campaign was over. 306 men from the United Kingdom and the Commonwealth, who had lost their lives not by enemy hands but on the orders of their own countrymen, had finally been exonerated. Their posthumous pardons granted by royal assent removed the stain of desertion and cowardice from their records. Ilana Barnett explains.

Private Thomas James Highgate, available here.

Faced with the nightmare of trench warfare; watching their friends die, the stench of battlefields strewn with rotting corpses, lice infested uniforms, sleep deprivation, appalling weather, disease, and the constant fear of death and mustard gas attacks, it is hardly surprising that so many came out of the war forever changed, a damaged shell of the men they had been. The majority managed to hold it together, but for some, it all was too much and they ran while others collapsed, unable to go on. 

Nowadays we recognize the signs of shell shock, more commonly referred to as post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD), but, in the past, it was a whole different story. These men were seen as weak and weakness could not be tolerated. The military commanders needed to make an example out of them, their men were holding on by a thread, they could not risk mass mutiny. Fear had to be instilled to keep them inline and the dread of being seen as cowards and the shame they would bring to their families was an effective deterrent.

Only a few weeks into the war, the military elite was faced with a terrible decision, they did not hesitate and on September 8, 1914, Thomas James Highgate, aged 19, became the first British soldier to be executed for desertion. Tragically he was not the last.

A Difficult Childhood

Thomas James Highgate was born on May 13, 1895, in Shoreham in Kent, the fourth of five children of John James Highgate, a farm laborer and Alice Highgate (née Nutley). His family’s poverty meant that his childhood was not the easiest. At some point the family must have moved from Shoreham to south London as Thomas is recorded as having attended Hither Green School in Lewisham. How good of an education Thomas received is difficult to gauge as from the age of seven, he was in and out of the Lewisham workhouse as his parents struggled to make ends meet. Coming from this type of background may explain why he decided on May 18, 1907, at the age of 12, to join the Royal Navy. At the time the Royal Navy were in urgent need of more manpower to crew the newly introduced dreadnoughts.

Life at Sea

To our modern perspective the thought of a 12-year-old joining the Royal Navy is horrific but to a child born in the Victorian period without money, connections, education or prospects, it would have been viewed as a golden opportunity. Life in the Navy was hard but it did at least guarantee food, a regular wage, and a roof over your head. These young boys were expected to learn the important seamanship skills necessary to become a good sailor.

Assigned to the training ship, Exmouth in Grays on May 18, 1907, Highgate remained there for three years before transferring to the SS Oriana as a deck boy (attested by the 1911 Liverpool census). His life in the Navy was eventful.  Two of the ships he was on were shipwrecked and while on the west coast of Africa he was taken ill with yellow fever. It appears that after these traumas, his memory was permanently impaired and his medical records note that he also on occasion suffered from amnesia. 

From Sailor to Soldier

For some reason, Highgate made the decision to leave the Navy and sign up for an Army Special Reserve battalion. He spent six months with the reserve battalion, studying for his Third-Class certificate. At the age of 17 and eight months, Highgate took the final leap and enlisted in the regular army, joining the 1st Battalion, (Queen’s Own) Royal West Kent Regiment on February 4, 1913. Highgate’s Attestation Papers, the first papers a soldier signed on entering the army, describe him as 5 feet 4.5 inches, just over nine stone,  brown hair, hazel eyes, and with naval tattoos on his arms. If he thought he was getting a reprieve from his traumatic experience in the Navy, then he was in for a shock.

The Road to France and Mons

Highgate appears to have found army life difficult. He was upbraided on a couple of occasions for being late for Tattoo, reprimanded for carrying a rusty rifle, and even received 48 days detention for desertion at the beginning of 1914. It is unclear what prompted Highgate to desert but the fact that he tried to fraudulently re-enlist does indicate some form of mental instability. Why re-enlist if you wanted to desert? The medical officer, Captain Tate examining him at Dublin’s Richmond Barracks where he was stationed recorded that although his memory appears fine at the moment, “His manner is stated to be peculiar at times”. Despite all of this, the general consensus was that he was a good worker when he was actually in attendance.

Highgate knew that at the some point he would have to fight and maybe even die for his country. He even wrote a message in his payment that in the event of his death any money owed to him should be sent to his Irish girlfriend, Mary MacNulty. Still nothing in his wildest imagination could have prepared him for the horrors of World War I. Just two weeks into the war his Battalion received their orders and on August 15, 1914, he left Ireland for France. Eight days later he took part in his first engagement, the Battle of Mons also known as the First Great Battle of World War I. The fighting lasted for nine hours until the British Expeditionary Force, outnumbered by the German Army, was forced to fall back. There was no clear winner. Although from a tactical point of view, the Germans had the upper hand, in terms of casualty numbers, the British suffered fewer losses. Just over 1,600 British soldiers were killed compared to about 5,000 Germans.

It was the retreat rather than the battle that was an unmitigated disaster. The army was in disarray. The privates thought the war was over and that they had lost. The two-week retreat from the battlefield of Mons is often described as “organized chaos”. The men trudged the 250 miles (400 kilometers) towards what was later known as the First Battle of the Marne, covering about 20 miles a day. They were demoralized, physically exhausted, starving, hobbling along on blistered, bleeding feet and suffering from heatstroke; it is hardly surprising that so many got left behind, became disorientated or ran away. 

His Final Days

September 6, 1914

Either late on September 5, or in the early hours of September 6, just as his battalion was preparing to face the Germans once more, Highgate told his friends that he was going to relieve himself. He never returned. He was found at 8:15am, a short distance away in a barn by a gamekeeper searching for his bicycle, on the estate of Baron de Rothschild at Tournan-en-Brie.

Highgate was dressed in civilian clothing (it is unclear where he found the clothes but one suggestion is that he took them from a scarecrow) and without his rifle. He appeared confused and was unable to remember how he had got there, telling the gamekeeper “I have lost my army, and I mean to get out of it”.

The gamekeeper, an ex-soldier, was unsympathetic. Highgate led him to a woodshed where he had left his uniform. His rifle and cartridges were missing. The gamekeeper handed him over to the French police who in turn gave him into the custody of the British military. Captain Milward, who escorted Highgate into military custody, stated that Highgate told him that he remembered nothing except leaving his bivouac that morning.

September 7, 1914

A hasty military tribunal was convened. Highgate had no defense and no witnesses were called. He said little except to contradict what he had earlier told the gamekeeper and state that he had got lost and had meant to return to his battalion. Not at any point was Highgate’s medical history of memory loss raised to support the theory that he could have genuinely got confused and wandered off. Maybe his previous record worked against him, maybe they did not look into his background or more likely his own confused words to the gamekeeper condemned him.

It was Field Marshal Sir Douglas Haig who had the final say when it came to authorizing military executions. If he had decided to, he could have issued a stay of execution. He didn’t. Haig would have been well aware that by August 30, it was being reported that there were no fewer than 12,923 stragglers. Talk of desertion was sweeping through the battalions like wildfire and the military was desperate to stamp it out. An example had to be made and sadly Highgate was the sacrifice. Senior officials insisted that the execution should be performed at once and as publicly as possible.

September 8, 1914

At 6:22am on the September 8, Highgate was informed of his fate. 

An officer arranged for a burial party and a firing squad to prepare.

While waiting to be taken to face the execution squad, Highgate wrote a sad letter to Mary. How much did he tell her of what was happening? Probably what he was allowed to write was limited. The Army would have been very careful about what information could be passed on to the world outside the army.

At 7:07am in the presence of a Church of England clergyman and witnessed by men of the 1st Dorset Regiment and 1stCheshire Regiment, Private Thomas James Highgate was tied to a stake. Often those condemned by a military court were drugged with either alcohol or morphine to calm them down before they faced the execution squad and a square of white cloth pinned to their uniform. It is not known if this was done to Highgate, it may have been a procedure implemented later on in the war, but it was said that when facing the firing squad, he cried and called for his mother. He was nineteen.

The Aftermath

Thomas’ parents suffered greatly during the war. They lost two more sons. Robert, a Lance Corporal with the East Lancashire Regiment, died on January 30, 1915 and Joseph a rifleman, with the East Kent Regiment, died of his wounds on June 6, 1916. Luckily, they were spared one son, Benjamin, who survived and died in 1940.

How much his parents understood about their son’s fate is difficult to tell. Alice submitted all three of her sons’ names to be included in the Sidcup War Memorial but other sources claim that they were shamed into leaving her home which according to records would have been Catford. Did she find out afterwards or did she know but still want her son commemorated? 

Final Thoughts

Although most people are of the view that those men executed for cowardice and desertion were just as much victims of the war as anyone else who died, there are others that do not believe that the past should be viewed with modern eyes and sensibilities. Maybe that is why Thomas’ name has never been added to the Shoreham War Memorial despite having a place left for it. Strangely his name can be found on a British war memorial to the missing at La Ferté-sous-Jouarre, a commune located near the River Marne in north-central France.

Thomas’ case was tragic. It is more than likely that his memory problems were due to either to a head trauma sustained while in the Navy or to side-effects from his bout of yellow fever. When combined with the horrors of the Battle of Mons, exhaustion and possible heatstroke, it is not surprising that he broke down. The tragedy is that he was found and an example made of him. If only for a missing bicycle he may have survived.

Sadly, Thomas was the first of many. The last two men were executed only four days before the Armistice was declared.

Now that they are pardoned, let’s hope that Thomas, along with those 305 other men, will finally be at peace.

Let us know what you think about the article below.

Now, you can read Ilana’s article on the Bethnal Green tube disaster during World War II here.

Ilana Barnett writes at https://hauntedpalaceblog.wordpress.com/

Feminine National Personifications: Part 1 - Britannia (the UK) and Bharat Mata (India)

Feminine personifications of nations are common around the world. Some popular examples include Britannia, Bharat Mata, and Marianne. Usually represented as goddesses, mothers, or queens, these entities embody their countries’ unity, liberty, strength, reason, and spiritual essences. As national icons, they impart to their people a strong sense of identity and belonging associated with their lands. In this two-part mini-series, Apeksha Srivastava highlights some changes in their portrayal with time, along with some similarities and differences among them.

In the first part of this mini-series, she looks at changes in the portrayal of Britannia and Bharat Mata with time.

The East offering its riches to Britannia, Roma Spiridone, 1778. Source: British Library, available here.

Britannia

The Submissive

In his article Britannia and John Bull[1], RT Matthews mentioned how the Greeks and Romans associated anthropomorphic deities with their newly conquered lands. Several coins depicting this were made during Roman Emperor Hadrian’s journey through imperial provinces[2]. As the female personification of the recently subjugated island, Britannia can be seen on one of them. She is depicted sitting with her head slightly bowed. Her pose is submissive, with her shield at rest, and her armor cast off.

The Rising Queen

This submissive Britannia disappeared when Rome’s power declined around 400 CE. She reappeared to personify Britain during the reign of Elizabeth I, making her place in maps and emblem books. In 1603, writer Henry Peacham featured Britannia on one of the first English emblem books (Minerva Britannia). She is seen striding confidently towards a ship, which symbolizes Britain’s newly acquired maritime power. The word “Minerva” is a Roman reference to the Greek goddess of war and reason, Athena. English chronicler Michael Drayton, in 1612, portrayed Britannia on his Poly-Olbion. She is seated under a Roman arch decorated with male figures (Aeneas - the founder of Rome, Julius Caesar - the first Roman conqueror of Britain, a medieval king representing the Tudor line, and a 17th-century explorer). She is the image of Britain’s sovereign powers and flourishing economy and has the horn of plenty in her left arm and a scepter in her right hand. A wreath on her head is being placed by two cherubs. Ships in the sea visible in the background are a reference to Britain’s maritime prosperity. In 1660, King Charles II issued a medal and halfpenny-coin with Britannia on the reverse.

The Colonizer

Eventually, Britannia started marking her presence on statues, paintings, monuments, stamps, and printed works, often commissioned by the government authorities. One such painting, The East Offering Its Riches To Britannia, was made by Roma Spiridione in 1778 on the British East India Company headquarters ceiling in London. Britannia is shown sitting on a rock with a lion near her as a guardian. She is humbly receiving a tribute of pearls/jewels from a dark figure (India). A kneeling woman (China) is offering her a porcelain vase, and a tea chest is lying close by. The camel and elephant on the right side of the painting symbolize the East, especially India. This work presents Britannia at a much higher stature. An interesting point to note here is that the East actually never offered anything to Britain; the latter plundered it. This painting is an interesting example of whitewashing and turning history to one’s advantage[3]. Another example of self-glorification is the painting Retribution by Edward Armitage. It depicted the soldier-massacre in Cawnpore during the Indian Rebellion in 1857. After the rebellion, a British woman and her child are shown on the ground as casualties. Britannia is furious to see her children in this condition. As revenge, she is about to kill the Bengal Tiger, the symbol of the Sepoys, with her sword[4]. It, again, portrays only one side of the story.

Made by Walter Crane, the Imperial Federation Map, published in 1886 for a London weekly newspaper, showed Britannia as the “rising world-power”. She is seated on a globe upheld by Atlas and is gazing down at the people of her empire (denoting parts of the world under British control marked in pink). Another map published in the same year shows her in the middle, with different scenes from the Empire being illustrated[5].

The Celebrity

Britannia also survived the changes in society with time. By the mid-18th-century, people started enjoying written parodies about her. Apart from entertainment, these satires emerged as ways to influence public opinion. Furthermore, caricature-illustrators elevated her to higher moral planes.

In humor magazines (like Punch), Britannia was depicted as the defender of the British Empire, who crusaded for noble causes. She also personified the virtues of the English middle-class like women should be at home for happiness in marriage. Some other cartoons emphasized her vulnerability. In another work, she is seen making preparations for the Great Party[6], holding a candle in her hand, her shield and trident put aside. We can also observe the dishes/spoons on the floor. 

The patriotic song Rule Britannia demonstrated Britannia’s true establishment as a national icon[7]. She became the symbol of Great Britain’s political presence, evolving with time. During the 1990s, the term Cool Britannia (a humorous version), was used to describe contemporary Britain, showing approval of pop groups, artists, and fashion[8].

Bharat Mata

The Goddess

India has worshipped the earth in a female form (Dharti-Mata/Bhu-Devi) since ancient times. According to some scholars, the origins of Bharat Mata (Mother India) can be traced back to this idea. She, as the national personification, was created out of the desire to be free from the British dominion[9]. After gaining popularity from KC Bandyopadhyay's play Bharat Mata (1873), she emerged as a goddess in Bankimchandra Chattopadhyay’s poem Vande Mataram in 1875. She was visually evoked in 1905 through Abanindranath Tagore’s painting[10].

The Symbol of Independence & Nationalism

Sumathi Ramaswamy’s book, The Goddess and The Nation[11], traced Bharat Mata’s origins to Bengal in 1904 (Mother-Bengal/Bangamata). Over the next few decades, artists added new features to her depiction such as the tricolor flag, lions (guardians/vahana), the territory-map she represented, and her weapons (like trident or spinning wheel signifying the Swadeshi Movement to boycott British-made products). In one of her articles, Ramaswamy also mentioned how Aurobindo Ghosh advised his student to become patriotic, “... It is not a map, but the portrait of Bharat Mata ... worship her with the nine-fold bhakti [devotion].” Some works depict Bharat Mata blessing freedom fighters for their sacrifice. In an election hoarding, she is seen as the nation-map, crying, and carrying Indira Gandhi’s lifeless body[12].

Associated with fury and rage, Kali is said to have emerged from goddess Durga. She apparently struck fear in some British people. Ramaswamy argued that Bharat Mata emerged as an intermediate: having fury for the oppressors and maternal love for her children. She rose as the glorious mother/goddess associated with the map of India to effectively elicit strong feelings of nationalism in people.

Shobha Singh’s painting (1947) showed Bharat Mata clad in the Indian tricolor. She has a trident in her hand and a halo around her head. The roaring lion by her side is kicking the British crown into the abyss. K.K. Rajaram’s painting (1962) depicted the Indo-China War setting. Bharat Mata is near the Ashoka Pillar. Carrying the Indian flag and a sword, she is leading four roaring lions and soldiers against the Chinese-dragon on the Himalayan borders[13].

The Unifier of Diversity

After independence, Bharat Mata was sometimes utilized for political ends. In 2011, Anna Hazare highlighted her in his campaign India Against Corruption, emphasizing that she belongs to all India and not just a particular religion. Sri Aurobindo, in 1920, had already written that “if we hope to have a vision of the mother by ... establishing Hindu nationalism ... we would be deprived of the full expression of our nationhood”[14]. In this context, Ramaswamy described an image of Bharat Mata riding through the street with houses of religious worship in the background (church, mosque, and perhaps, Gurdwara), promoting the idea of religious harmony (inclusive-Hinduism).

The Progressive

Bharat Mata survived the evolutions in popular taste. She has been represented in posters, calendars, and films. In one of his sketches, cartoonist Shankar showed Nehru as a cherub, drawing a cover (“Planning”) over the nude female form of the nation. A second cartoon depicted a “new version of Bharat Mata” who is protecting the poor from the corrupt politicians and resembles Lady Justice[15]. Another sketch portrayed her horrified at the incident of the tricolor flag being carried to support a rape accused. Such works underline the social changes in India with time in the form of different physical and emotional states of Bharat Mata.

The first Bharat Mata temple in Varanasi (1936) houses a giant marble relief map of India with its rivers, mountains, and sacred places. Another temple in Haridwar (1983) dedicated its ground floor to Mother India, represented as a map and a marble image. The map contains a network of lights indicating pilgrim places that link the entire nation[16]. Such examples beautifully depict the associations of Bharat Mata with the sacred geography of India.

Read on: In the second part here, Apeksha discusses Marianne of France and some similarities and differences among these national personifications.

Apeksha Srivastava completed her Master’s degree from the Indian Institute of Technology Gandhinagar, Gujarat, India. She is currently an aspiring writer and a second-year Ph.D. candidate at this institute. This article is based on an assignment she submitted for the course, Perspectives on Indian Civilization. 

References

1. Britannia and John Bull: From Birth to Maturity. Roy T. Matthews. The Historian. Vol. 62, No. 4 (SUMMER 2000), pp. 799-820 (22 pages). Published By: Taylor & Francis, Ltd.

2. Britannia and Melita: Pseudomorphic Sisters. Derk Kinnane-Roelofsma. Journal of the Warburg and Courtauld Institutes. Vol. 59 (1996), pp. 130-147 (18 pages). Published by: The Warburg Institute.

3. The Hidden Wound. Nick Robins. The Corporation That Changed the World: How the East India Company Shaped the Modern Multinational, 1-18. London: Pluto Press, 2012.

4. Britannia as the embodiment of Great Britain. Aline Gay, Fanny Guilbaud, and Damien Lenoir, Université Bordeaux-Montaigne, France. Essay written for Professor Béatrice Laurent’s seminar, 'Myths and Icons'.

5. Walter Crane and the Imperial Federation Map Showing the Extent of the British Empire (1886). Pippa Biltcliffe. Imago Mundi. Vol. 57, No. 1 (2005), pp. 63-69 (9 pages). Published by: Imago Mundi, Ltd.

6. Britannia's Great Party. 1851. Wood engraving. Punch (7 June 1856): 81. [http://www.victorianweb.org/periodicals/punch/95.html]

7. Britons will never be slaves! Britannia and liberty as a construct of British national identity in James Thomson and Thomas Arne’s song Rule Britannia and Thomas Rowlandson’s engraving, The Contrast, 1792, British Liberty, French Liberty, Which is best? Peter Johnston. The University of Oxford, Department for Continuing Education. Date created: Tuesday, April 18, 2017.

8. https://www.oxfordlearnersdictionaries.com/definition/english/cool-britannia

9. Mother India: The Role of the Maternal Figure in Establishing Legal Subjectivity. Kanika Sharma. 2017. Law and Critique, 29(1), 1–29.

10. https://scroll.in/article/805990/far-from-being-eternal-bharat-mata-is-only-a-little-more-than-100-years-old

11. The Goddess and the Nation: Mapping Mother India. By Sumathi Ramaswamy. Duke University Press, 2010. 379pp.

12. Maps, Mother/Goddesses, and Martyrdom in Modern India. Sumathi Ramaswamy. 2008. The Journal of Asian Studies, 67(03).

13. Icon-ising national identity: France and India in comparative perspective. Subrata K. Mitra and Lion König. National Identities, 15(4), 357–377.

14. The Life and Times of Bharat Mata: Nationalism as Invented Religion. Sadan Jha. 2006. Manushi.

15. https://timescontent.com/syndication-photos/reprint/just-like-that/454566/buy.jsp

16. India: A Sacred Geography. Diana L. Eck. 2011. Harmony Books.

A Shooting in Sarajevo: First World War Historiography Today – Part 2

With the centenary of the First World War’s outbreak in 2014, historians are revisiting and reanalyzing the events of the July Crisis in greater depth and breadth than ever before. In Part 2, we explore the current historiographical landscape, and identify key battlegrounds for the historians of today. Avan Fata explains.

If you missed it part 1 here introduces the debates on World War 1 historiography.

Kaiser Wilhelm II of Germany in Tangier, Morocco. Part of the First Moroccan Crisis (1905-06).

In the previous article, we delved into the development of the historiography on the origins of the First World War. From the immediate postwar revisionist-orthodox debates to the ‘comfortable consensus’ of an inadvertent “slide” into war in the 1930s, to the revival of the debate over war guilt with Fritz Fischer in the 1960s. All of these debates were marked by one inescapable theme: that historians writing about 1914 were also reflecting their contemporary political situations. Many of them had fought in the war; more had lived through the turbulent 20th century which had stemmed in some way from the postwar settlement at Versailles. Yet now, in the 21st century, the First World War has faded into a distant memory – with the last veterans having passed away, it is no longer an event etched into the personal histories of our modern society. 

Even so, the events of July 1914 continue to fascinate historians and the larger public as a whole. Commemorative events to mark the centenary of the war’s outbreak were also accompanied by the publication of dozens of works on the origins of the war. Rather than finally settling the question of who started the conflict, these works represent the continuation and diversification of the debate on the beginning of World War I. This part of the article deals with that broadening of the debate, identifying the key “battlegrounds” and historiographical approaches which recent historiography has popularized.

Focuses

What made 1914 different from other crises?

This is the specific question which we might ask in order to understand a key focus of monographs and writings on the origins of World War I. Following the debate on Fischer’s thesis in the 1960s, historians have begun looking beyond the events of June - August 1914 in order to understand why the assassination of an archduke was the ‘spark’ which lit the powder keg of the continent.

1914 was not a “critical year” where tensions were at their highest in the century. Plenty of other crises had occurred beforehand, namely the two Moroccan crises of 1905-06 and 1911, the Bosnian Crisis of 1908-09, and two Balkan Wars in 1912-13. Why did Europe not go to war as a result of any of these crises? What made the events of 1914 unique, both in the conditions present across the continent, and within the governments themselves, that ultimately led to the outbreak of war?

Even within popular history narratives, these events have slowly but surely been integrated into the larger picture of the lead up to 1914. Even a cursory analysis of these crises reveals several interesting notes:

• The Entente Powers, not the Triple Alliance, were the ones who tended to first utilize military diplomacy/deterrence, and often to a greater degree.

• Mediation by other ‘concerned powers’ was, more often than not, a viable and indeed desirable outcome which those nations directly involved in the crises accepted without delay.

• The strength of the alliance systems with mutual defense clauses, namely the Triple Alliance and the Franco-Russian Alliance, were shaky at best during these crises. France discounted Russian support against Germany in both Moroccan crises for example, and Germany constantly urged restraint to Vienna in its Balkan policy (particularly towards Serbia).

Even beyond the diplomatic history of these crises, historians have also analyzed the impact of other aspects in the years preceding 1914. William Mulligan, for example, argues that the economic conditions in those years generated heightened tensions as the great powers competed for dwindling markets and industries.[1] Plenty of recent journal articles have outlined the growth of nationalist fervor and irredentist movements in the Balkans, and public opinion has begun to re-occupy a place in such investigations - though not, we must stress, with quite the same weight that it once carried in the historiography.[2]

Yet perhaps the most often-written about aspect of the years prior to 1914 links directly with another key focus in the current historiography: militarization.

Militarization

As touched on in the first article, this aspect of the historiography is essentially the idea that Europe was ‘dragged’ into a war by the great powers’ heightened state of militarization, and that the interlocking series of mobilization plans which, once initiated, could not be stopped. In the 1990s, scholars began to re-examine these claims, which had sat so comfortably and dominantly in the interwar consensus of the 1930s and remained a key implicit assumption of Cold War historiography as well.[3]

These historians argued that despite the militarization of the great powers and the mobilization plans, the civilian statesmen remained firmly in control of policy, and that the decision to go to war was a conscious one that they made, fully aware of the consequences of such a choice.[4] The generals were not, as Barbara Tuchmann exaggeratedly wrote, “pounding the table for the signal to move”.[5] Indeed, in Vienna the generals were doing quite the opposite: early in the July Crisis Chief of the General Staff Conrad von Hotzendorf remarked to Foreign Minister Berchtold that the army would only be able to commence operations against Serbia on August 12, and that they would not even be able to mobilize until after the harvest leave finished on July 25.

However, the recent historiographical shift has re-emphasized investigating how militarization influenced the diplomacy of the great powers during the July Crisis.[6] Recent studies have studied in depth how the Bosnian Crisis of 1908-09 and the two Balkan Wars of 1912-13 demonstrated to Vienna and St. Petersburg that military force was a helpful tool when it came to achieving their respective diplomatic aims.[7] Yet the extent to which this thinking influenced the minds of the statesmen of 1914 remains a key area under debate, with particular focus on the ‘calculated risk’ argument – the idea that all the governments understood the consequences of their mobilizations, and chose to undertake them anyways. 

These rebuttals of the “inadvertent war” thesis have proven to be better substantiated and more persuasive, thus the current norm in historiography has shifted to look further within the halls of power in 1914. That is, the analyses have shifted to look beyond the generals, mobilization plans, and military staff; and instead towards the diplomats, ministers, and decision-makers who made those fateful choices during the July Crisis.

Decision Makers

Who occupied the halls of power both during the lead up to 1914 and whilst the crisis was unfolding? What decisions did they make and what impact did those actions have on the larger geopolitical/diplomatic situation of their nation?

Although Europe was very much a continent of monarchs in 1900, those monarchs did not hold supreme power over their respective apparatus of state. Even the most autocratic of the great powers at the time, Russia, possessed a council of ministers which convened at critical moments during the July Crisis to decide on their country’s response to Austro-Hungarian aggression. Contrast that to the most ‘democratic’ country of the great powers, France (in that the Third Republic did not have a monarch), and the confusing enigma that was the foreign ministry - occupying the Quai D’Orsay - and it becomes clear that understanding what motivated and influenced the men (and they were all men) who held/shared the reigns of policy is tantamount to better understanding how events progressed the way they did in 1914.

A good example of just how many dramatis personae have become involved in the current historiography can be found in Margaret Macmillan’s chatty pop-history work, The War that Ended Peace (2014). Her characterizations and side-tracks about such figures as Lord Salisbury, Friedrich von Holstein, and Theophile Delcasse are not out of step with contemporary academic monographs. Entire narratives and investigations have been published about the role of an individual in the lead up to the events of the July Crisis, Mombauer’s Helmuth von Moltke and the Origins of the First World War (2001) or T.G Otte’s Statesman of Europe: A Life of Sir Edward Grey (2020) stand out in this regard.

Not only has the cast become more civilian and larger in the past few decades, but it has also come to recognize the plurality of decision-making during 1914. Historians now stress that disagreements within governments (alongside those between them) are equally important to understand the many voices of European decision-making before as well as during 1914. Naturally, this focus reaches its climax in the days of the July Crisis, where narratives now emphasize in minutiae just how divided the halls of power were.

Alongside these changes in focus with the people who contributed to (or warned against) the decision to go to war, recent narratives have begun to highlight the voices of those who represented their governments abroad; the ambassadors. Likewise, newer historiographical works have re-focused their lenses on diplomatic history prior to the war. Within this field, one particular process and area of investigation stands out: the polarization of Europe.

Polarization

Prior to the developments within First World War historiography from the 1990s onwards, it was not uncommon for historians and politicians - at least in the interwar period - to propagate theses which pinned the war’s origins on factors of “mass demand”: nationalism, militarism, and social Darwinism among them. These biases not only impacted their interpretations of the events building up to 1914, as well as the July Crisis itself, but also imposed an overarching thread; an omnipresent motivator which guided (and at times “forced”) the decision-makers to commit to courses of action which moved the continent one step closer to war.

These overarching theories have since been refuted by historians, and the current historiographical approach emphasizes case-specific analyses of each nation’s circumstances, decisions, and impact in both crises and diplomacy. Whilst these investigations have certainly yielded key patterns and preferences within the diplomatic maneuvers of each nation, they sensibly stop short of suggesting that these modus operandi were inflexible to different scenarios, or that they even persisted as the decision-makers came and went. The questions now revolve around why and how the diplomacy of the powers shifted in the years prior to 1914, and how the division of Europe into “two armed camps” 

What all of these new focuses imply - indeed what they necessitate - is that historians utilize a transnational approach when attempting to explain the origins of the war. Alan Kramer goes so far as to term it the sine qua non (essential condition) in the current historiography; a claim that many historians would be inclined to agree with.[8] Of course, that is not to suggest that a good work must not give more focus to one (or a group) of nations over the others, but works which focus on a single nation’s path to war are rarer than they were prior to this recent shift in focus. 

Thus, there we have a general overview of how the focuses of historiography on the First World War have shifted in the past 30 years, and it would perhaps not be too far-fetched to suggest that these focuses may very well change in and of themselves within the next 30 years too. The next and final part shall deal with how, within these focuses, there are various stances which historians have argued and adopted in their approach to explaining the origins of the First World War.

Personalities vs. Precedents

To suggest that the First World War was the fault of a group of decision-makers is leaning dangerously close to reducing the role that those officials played in the lead up to the conflict - not to mention to dismiss outright those practices and precedents which characterized their country’s policy preferences prior to 1914. There was, as hinted at previously, no dictator at the helm of any of the powers; the plurality of cabinets, imperial ministries, and advisory bodies meant that the personalities of those decision-makers must be analyzed in light of their influence on the larger national, and transnational state of affairs. 

To then suggest that the “larger forces” of mass demand served as invisible guides on these men is to dismiss the complex and unique set of considerations, fears, and desires which descended upon Paris, Berlin, St. Petersburg, London, Vienna, and Belgrade in July of 1914. Though these forces may have constituted some of those fears and considerations, they were by no means the powerful structural factors which plagued all the countries during the July Crisis. Holger Herwig sums up this stance well: 

“The ‘big causes,’ by themselves, did not cause the war. To be sure, the system of secret alliances, militarism, nationalism, imperialism, social Darwinism, and the domestic strains… had all contributed toward forming the mentalite, the assumptions (both spoken and unspoken) of the ‘men of 1914.’[But] it does injustice to the ‘men of 1914’ to suggest that they were all merely agents - willing or unwilling - of some grand, impersonal design… No dark, overpowering, informal, yet irresistible forces brought on what George F. Kennan called ‘the great seminal tragedy of this century.’ It was, in each case, the work of human beings.”

I have therefore termed this battleground one of “personalities” against “precedents”, because although historians are now quick to dismiss the work of larger forces as crucial in explaining the origins of the war, they are still inclined to analyze the extent to which these forces influenced each body of decision-makers in 1914 (as well as previous crises). Within each nation, indeed within each of the government officials, there were precedents which changed and remained from previous diplomatic crises. Understanding why they changed (or hadn’t), as well as determining how they factored into the decision-making processes, is to move several steps closer to fully grasping the complex developments of July 1914. 

Intention vs. Prevention

Tied directly to the debate over the personalities and their own motivations for acting the way they did is the debate over intention and prevention. To identify the key figures who pressed for war and those who attempted to push for peace is perhaps tantamount to assigning blame in some capacity. Yet historians once again have become more aware of the plurality of decision-making. Moltke and Bethmann-Hollweg may have been pushing for a war with Russia sooner rather than later, but the Kaiser and foreign secretary Jagow preferred a localized war between Austria-Hungary and Serbia. Likewise, Edward Grey may have desired to uphold Britain’s honor by coming to France’s aid, but until the security of Belgium became a serious concern a vast majority of the House of Commons preferred neutrality or mediation to intervention. 

This links back to the focus mentioned earlier about how these decision-makers came to make the decisions they did during the July Crisis. What finally swayed those who had held out for peace to authorize war? Historians now have discarded the notion that the generals and military “took control” of the process at critical stages, so now we must further investigate the shifts in thinking and circumstances which impacted the policy preferences of the “men of 1914”. Perhaps the best summary of this battleground and the need to understand how these decision-makers came to make the fateful choices they did is best summarized by Margaret Macmillan: 

"There are so many questions and as many answers again. Perhaps the most we can hope for is to understand as best we can those individuals, who had to make the choices between war and peace, and their strengths and weaknesses, their loves, hatreds, and biases. To do that we must also understand their world, with its assumptions. We must remember, as the decision-makers did, what had happened before that last crisis of 1914 and what they had learned from the Moroccan crises, the Bosnian one, or the events of the First Balkan Wars. Europe’s very success in surviving those earlier crises paradoxically led to a dangerous complacency in the summer of 1914 that, yet again, solutions would be found at the last moment and the peace would be maintained."

Contingency vs. Certainty

“No sovereign or leading statesmen in any of the belligerent countries sought or desired war - certainly not a European war.” 

The above remark by David Lloyd George in 1936 reflects a dangerous theme that has been thoroughly discredited in recent historiography: the so-called “slide” thesis. That is, the belief that the war was not a deliberate choice by any of the statesmen of Europe, and that the continent as a whole simply - to use another oft-quoted phrase from Lloyd George - “slithered over the brink into the boiling cauldron of war”. The statesmen of Europe were well aware of the consequences of their choices, and explicitly voiced their awareness of the possibility of war at multiple stages of the July Crisis. 

At the same time, to suggest that there was a collective responsibility for the war - a stance which remained dominant in the immediate postwar writings until the 1960s - is to also neutralize the need to reexamine the choices taken during the July Crisis. If everyone had a part to play, then what difference would it make if Berlin or London or St. Petersburg was the one that first moved towards armed conflict? This argument once again brings up the point of inadvertence as opposed to intention. Despite Christopher Clark’s admirable attempt to suggest that the statesmen were “blind to the reality of the horror they were about to bring into the world”, the evidence put forward en masse by other historians suggest quite the opposite. Herwig remarks once again that this inadvertent “slide” into war was far from the case with the statesmen of 1914: 

“In each of the countries…, a coterie of no more than about a dozen civilian and military rulers weighed their options, calculated their chances, and then made the decision for war…. Many decision makers knew the risk, knew that wider involvement was probable, yet proceeded to take the next steps. Put differently, fully aware of the likely consequences, they initiated policies that they knew were likely to bring on the catastrophe.”  

So the debate now lies with ascertaining at what point during the July Crisis the “window” for a peaceful resolution to the crisis finally closed, and when war (localized or continental) was all but certain. A.J.P Taylor remarked rather aptly that “no war is inevitable until it breaks out”, and determining when exactly the path to peace was rejected by each of the belligerent powers is crucial to that most notorious of tasks when it comes to explaining the causes of World War I: placing blame. 

Responsibility

“After the war, it became apparent in Western Europe generally, and in America as well, that the Germans would never accept a peace settlement based on the notion that they had been responsible for the conflict. If a true peace of reconciliation were to take shape, it required a new theory of the origins of the war, and the easiest thing was to assume that no one had really been responsible for it. The conflict could readily be blamed on great impersonal forces - on the alliance system, on the arms race and on the military system that had evolved before 1914. On their uncomplaining shoulders the burden of guilt could be safely placed.”

The idea of collective responsibility for the First World War, as described by Marc Trachtenberg above, still carries some weight in the historiography today. Yet it is no longer, as noted previously, the dominant idea amongst historians. Nor, for that matter, is the other ‘extreme’ which Fischer began suggesting in the 1960s: that the burden of guilt, the label of responsibility, and thus the blame, could be placed (or indeed forced) upon the shoulders of a single nation or group of individuals.

The interlocking, multilateral, and dynamic diplomatic relations between the European powers prior to 1914 means that to place the blame on one is to propose that their policies, both in response to and independent of those which the other powers followed, were deliberately and entirely bellicose. The pursuit of these policies, both in the long-term and short-term, then created conditions which during the July Crisis culminated in the fatal decision to declare war. To adopt such a stance in one’s writing is to dangerously assume several considerations that recent historiography has brought to the fore and rightly warned against possessing: 

• That the decision-making in each of the capitals was an autocratic process, in which opposition was either insignificant to the key decision-maker or entirely absent,

• That a ‘greater’ force motivated the decision-makers in a particular country, and that the other nations were powerless to influence or ignore the effect of this ‘guiding hand’,

• That any anti-war sentiments or conciliatory diplomatic gestures prior to 1914 (as well as during the July Crisis) were abnormalities; case-specific aberrations from the ‘general’ pro-war pattern,

To conclude, when it comes to the current historiography on the origins of the First World War, the ‘blame game’ which is heavily associated with the literature on the topic has reached at least something resembling a consensus: this was not a war enacted by one nation above all others, nor a war which all the European powers consciously or unconsciously found themselves obliged to join. Contingency, the mindset of decision-makers, and the rapidly changing diplomatic conditions are now the landscapes which academics are analyzing more thoroughly than ever, refusing to paint broad strokes (the “big” forces) and instead attempting to specify, highlight, and differentiate the processes, persons, and prejudices which, in the end, deliberately caused the war to break out.

What do you think of World War One historiography? Let us know below.

[1] William Mulligan, The Origins of the First World War (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2010). 

[2] A good overview of the recent historiography with regards to these aspects is Geppert, Dominik, William Mulligan, and Andreas Rose, eds. The Wars before the Great War: Conflict and International Politics before the Outbreak of the First World War (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2015). 

[3] Annika Mombauer, The Origins of the First World War: Controversies and Consensus (New York: Routledge, 2003).

[4] A critical article which progressed this shift is Marc Trachtenberg, “The Meaning of Mobilization in 1914.” International Security 15, no. 3 (1990): 120-150. 

[5] Barbara Tuchman, The Guns of August, 1962.

[6] A good overview of the historiographical developments in this regard is William Mulligan, “The Trial Continues: New Directions in the Study of the Origins of the First World War.” The English Historical Review 129, no. 538 (June 2014): 639-666. 

[7] See for example, David Stevenson, “Militarization and Diplomacy in Europe before 1914.” International Security 22, no. 1 (1997): 125-161; David Stevenson, “War by Timetable? The Railway Race before 1914.” Past & Present 162 (1999): 163-194. 

[8] Alan Kramer, “Recent Historiography of the First World War (Part I),” Journal of Modern European History / Zeitschrift Für Moderne Europäische Geschichte / Revue D'histoire Européenne Contemporaine 12, no. 2 (2014): 160-161