Spain-Netherlands: World Cup Finalists

JOHANNESBURG — The first World Cup in Africa appropriately presents something new: Spain or the Netherlands as a first-time champion.

This could be a revenge match for the Treaty of Westphalia.  The last time the teams played, the match lasted 80 years and the Dutch won.

The source of the conflict was existential.  The Spanish asserted their right to burn the Dutch alive, and the Dutch disagreed.  Now, from a purely legal perspective, the Spanish were correct.  Thanks to a skein of marriages, the King of Spain was named Hapsburg and he was the sovereign ruler of the Low Countries.  And thanks to a Spanish upbringing, Philip II was a religious fanatic.  When he inherited the crown in 1558, Philips did not regard the Netherlands as a prosperous, happy land that filled the royal coffers.  No, he viewed it as a haven of heresy.  You can’t quibble with Philip’s knowledge of demographics.  Calvinism, with its tenets that money is God’s expression of congratulations, had appealed to the Dutch love of commerce.  The Protestants now made up a majority of Philip’s Dutch subjects.  And as their sovereign, Philip had the right to persecute them.

His most Catholic Majesty had hoped that an Inquisition would suffice.  It had proved a success in Spain.  In 1560, he appointed an archbishop as Prime Minister of the Netherlands and you can guess his primary purpose.   However, the Inquisition–with its legal procedures, etiquette of torture, and theatrical executions–really was time-consuming and laborious.  It worked well dealing with a minority with a suspicious reluctance toward pork; but the Inquisition simply couldn’t process all the Dutch Protestants who required trial and incineration.  Nor were the Calvinists affable  enough to baste themselves with oil and proceed to the nearest bonfire.

The cinders from the uncooperative victims were only inflaming the unrest in the Netherlands.  Even the Dutch nobility, many of whom were Catholic, objected to the Inquisition and signed petitions in protest.  The King only noted the names, not their grievances.  He did agree, however, the Inquisition had failed to crush the heresy.  In 1567 Philip named the Duke of Alva to be the governor of the Netherlands, and the Duke brought with him 12,000 soldiers.  Upon the Duke’s arrival in Brussels, he was met by a delegation of the leading nobles of the Netherlands.  They were all Catholic but many of them were moderates who had pled for an end to the Inquisition.  The Duke demonstrated his idea of tolerance by having the moderates beheaded.  That gave the Protestants a clear impression of the Duke’s attitude toward them.

The Duke of Alva knew how to start a war but, even with an army of 12,000, he didn’t know how to end it.  His troops might sack and massacre Dutch towns, but only the dead were pacified.  The Netherlands were in revolt.  The Spanish were so unpopular that they could not even count on Catholic support, and the Calvinists were fighting for their survival.  Alva needed more men, but Philip was preoccupied with fighting the Ottomans.  The Dutch, however, did have allies.  The Protestant princes of Northern Germany provided assistance, subsidizing armies of mercenaries for the Dutch leader William of Orange.  And despite Queen Elizabeth’s charming and straight-faced assertions of neutrality, England was providing haven for Dutch privateers.

In 1573, Philip dismissed Alva, hoping to find a better general.  Three governors and five years later, Philip found him:  his own nephew, the Duke of Parma.  Through Parma’s efforts, the Spanish regained control of the Southern provinces of the Netherlands; it was to become the country we know as Belgium.  But the northern provinces successfully resisted the Spanish.  By 1586, the English had abandoned all pretence at neutrality.  An English army was fighting in the Netherlands; even if it only lost battles, it still was a drain on Parma’s resources.  The exasperated Philip II concluded that conquering England would also break the Dutch resistance.  He assembled an Armada…but you know that story.  Let’s just say that the Duke of Parma never got to London or Amsterdam.

Having successfully defended themselves, the Northern Provinces simply declared themselves a Republic in 1588.  So what if the Spanish wouldn’t recognize it?  The Dutch state existed and was in business.  The war tapered down to token skirmishes and by 1609 the Spanish agreed to a 12 year truce.  In 1621 the war officially resumed, and there was a major battle in 1624–which the Spanish won!  The Spanish gained a suitable subject for a Velazquez painting, and that was about it.  Finally, in 1648, as part of the Treaty of Westphalia the Spanish conceded the independence of the Dutch.

And the outcome of the World Cup match probably won’t change that.

May 28, 1588:  The Spanish Armada Sets Sail

Sometimes history and central casting work perfectly.  That was certainly true in the duel between Philip II of Spain and Elizabeth (she doesn’t need further introduction).  He was a grim, repressive soul; even in his choice of  somber clothes, he seemed in perpetual attendance at requiem mass.  She was a brilliant actress who ruled by craft and charm.  Their kingdoms were equally contrasting.  Spain was an empire, commanding the wealth of the New World, and leading the Catholic powers of Europe.  England was an island, an isolated Protestant bastion.  Tyrannical, dogmatic Spain would be the forerunner of totalitarianism. Independent, unfettered England would be the foundation of modern democracy.

From our perspective, this clearly was a war between good and evil.  And from a legal point, there is an equally distinct delineation between right and wrong.  The irony is that Spain was in the right.  English privateers attacked Spanish ships and colonies.  English aid and “volunteers” abetted the Dutch in their rebellion against Spain.  Of course, the British Crown plead ignorance of the privateers while taking its share of the loot and then subsidizing the Dutch rebellion.  The wonder is that Philip showed such patience with the English; he would have been justified going to war years sooner.  But did Philip use that time to carefully plan his attack?  He obviously didn’t.

On this day in 1588 the Spanish Armada set sail for…now, that turned out to be a mystery. The Spanish had built, bought, and borrowed 130 ships but they really had no idea what they were supposed to do with this fleet. Yes, the Spanish intended to conquer England, but the Armada was only a threat in theory. Its purpose was to ferry the Spanish Army of the Duke of Parma across the Channel.

Unfortunately, none of the Spanish planners had the foresight to secure either a deep water port for the fleet to load the troops, or any transports that could ferry the troops to the ships. Philip II, being such a devout Catholic, perhaps thought that his army would walk on the water. So the Armada set sail without any purpose.

On its pointless tour, the Spanish fleet took a beating in the English Channel. The Globe Theater would not be used for bull fights. Then the Armada proceeded to the North Sea, sailing past the mystified Spanish army in the Netherlands. The Duke of Parma might have had better luck using gondolas. The Spanish were not merely inferior sailors; their ships really were unsuited for water, at least the type with waves. The North Sea and the Atlantic Ocean couldn’t have been more Protestant in their reception of the Armada. Most of the Spanish fleet was destroyed in storms.

When Philip saw the meager, battered remnants of his great enterprise, the King refrained from declaring God a heretic. For a rabid bigot, Philip was surprisingly stoic and accepted the debacle with a decorous grace. Even the incompetent admiral was allowed to retire gracefully.

I only wish that Philip had broken into song…

Blue navy blue, I am blue as I can be.

For the Spanish fleet has met defeat

And won’t come back to me.

Those English acts of piracy ar-mada’ning

And instigate this war.

A punitive flotilla would be my planning

Even up the score.

chorus

The naval pride of Spain complying with my wish

For England set asail.

But all of the assailing came from the English.

So now I must bewail.

Chorus

On this day in 1588 the Spanish Armada set sail for…now, that turned out to be a mystery. The Spanish had built, bought, and borrowed 130 ships but they really had no idea what they were supposed to do with this fleet. Yes, the Spanish intended to conquer England, but the Armada was only a threat in theory. Its purpose was to ferry the Spanish Army of the Duke of Parma across the Channel.

Unfortunately, none of the Spanish planners had the foresight to secure either a deep water port for the fleet to load the troops, or any transports that could ferry the troops to the ships. Philip II, being such a devout Catholic, perhaps thought that his army would walk on the water. So the Armada set sail without any purpose.

On its pointless tour, the Spanish fleet took a beating in the English Channel. The Globe Theater would not be used for bull fights. Then the Armada proceeded to the North Sea, sailing past the mystified Spanish army in the Netherlands. The Duke of Parma might have had better luck using gondolas. The Spanish were not merely inferior sailors; their ships really were unsuited for water, at least the type with waves. The North Sea and the Atlantic Ocean couldn’t have been more Protestant in their reception of the Armada. Most of the Spanish fleet was destroyed in storms.

When Philip saw the meager, battered remnants of his great enterprise, the King refrained from declaring God a heretic. For a rabid bigot, Philip was surprisingly stoic and accepted the debacle with a decorous grace. Even the incompetent admiral was allowed to retire gracefully.

I only wish that Philip had broken into song…

Blue navy blue, I am blue as I can be.

For the Spanish fleet has met defeat

And won’t come back to me.

Those English acts of piracy ar-mada’ning

And instigate this war.

A punitive flotilla would be my planning

Even up the score.

chorus

The naval pride of Spain complying with my wish

For England set asail.

But all of the assailing came from the English.

So now I must bewail.

Chorus