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February 24, 1500:  An Infant Inherits the Hapsburg Jaw and Europe

Monarchies do tend toward nepotism. Today, on the birthday of Charles V, I would hate to suggest that he did not deserve to be King of Spain and Southern Italy, Grand Duke of Burgundy, Duke of Austria and Holy Roman Emperor. However, his resume consisted of a birth certificate.  At least, he had the right parents at the right time.

His story begins in late 15th century Spain with the marriage of young Phil Hapsburg to Joan, the oldest daughter and heiress of Ferdinand and Isabella. The New York Times and People would have loved covering the events, but their reporters would have been burned as part of the festivities. (All the best Spanish weddings included an auto da fe.)

Phil was quite a catch. Besides being good looking, his family’s business included Austria and the Holy Roman Empire. Furthermore, his late mother had left him all Belgium and the Netherlands. His mother-in-law died in 1504; expelling most of the doctors from Spain proved unhealthy. Joan was supposed to inherit Mom’s kingdom of Castile, but Ferdinand hated to part with it.

The young Hapsburg may have cheated on his wife but he was loyal to Joan’s fortune; he protested against his father-in-law’s usurpation of Castile and even made vague threats. Then Philip suddenly died. (You can only imagine how surprised Ferdinand was.) Joan went mad and refused to have her husband buried; she transported his casket wherever she went.

Of course, Ferdinand was willing to rule Castile in his demented daughter’s name as well as regent for his young grandson Charles, who was being raised–safely–in the Low Countries. Ferdinand died in 1516 of undeservedly natural causes, so the 16-year-old Charles inherited Aragon and Sicily and finally got to rule Castille.

In 1519, his paternal grandfather died–leaving Charles the family estate of Austria and the job opening of Holy Roman Emperor. So a teenager now ruled all of Spain and its burgeoning colonial empire, Southern Italy and Sicily, the Low Countries and Austria. He was the most powerful man in Christendom since Charlemagne; so naturally the Pope had to pick a fight with him.

Leo X could ignore Luther and a Turkish army advancing into central Europe, but he was determined to annoy the young Hapsburg. He tried to prevent Charles’ election as Holy Roman Empire, a position that had long been regarded as a Hapsburg prerogative. Then, Leo refused to coronate Charles. (He was the fifth emperor Charles.) The Pope evidently thought that a 19 year-old was unworthy of such power and responsibility. Of course, Leo had been appointed a cardinal when he was 13, and the deMedici family had been bought their kid the papacy; but the young deMedici begrudged the even younger Hapsburg.

Not feeling terribly loyal to the Papacy, Charles proved initially quite tolerant of the fulminations of Professor Luther. After all, the Church definitely needed reform; and wasn’t that Luther’s sole aim? Yes, Charles was wrong; but by 1521, the heresy had proved so popular in Northern Germany that only a civil war could crush it. Charles needed the support of the German princes of the North; he intended to conquer Italy if only to make his point to the Pope.

Leo died without having the pleasure of meeting Charles. However, Pope Clement VII (and Leo’s cousin) was persuaded by the German sack of Rome in 1527 to coronate Charles. Being a Hapsburg hostage made Clement very considerate of Charles’ feelings. When Henry VIII wanted an annulment from Catherine of Aragon, the Pope naturally asked Charles if he wished his aunt Catalina declared a whore! Charles proved reluctant, so the Pope refused Henry’s request.

Henceforth, the Popes would proved deferential to Charles V. If brute force was not sufficiently persuasive, Charles was also contributing a tithe of the Aztec and Inca generosity to the Church. Although personally pious–especially as he got older, Charles was not a religious bigot. Yes, Spain burned anyone who showed a suspicious reluctance to pork but through the rest of his realm he proved ecumenical. He reached a political detente with the Lutherans of Germany; after the Turks had conquered Hungary and had cavalry patrols around Vienna, the Emperor really couldn’t afford to quibble over transubstantiation versus consubstantiation. And since the Dutch wanted to make money rather than trouble, Charles could turn a blind eye to Calvinism.

Charles abdicated all his thrones in 1557 and retired to a monastery where he died the following year. His younger brother Ferdinand inherited Austria and the imperial title. Charles’ son Philip received Spain and the Low Countries but none of his father’s prudence.

So, aside from bad taste in children, Charles V really did a pretty good job. Happy birthday.

It is February 19, 1915 and you are invited on an all expense paid cruise of the Mediterranean. Tour the charming shores of the Dardanelles on our way to Constantinople! (Itinerary subject to change.)

Quite a change! How should I describe Gallipoli? Imagine if Gettysburg had lasted 11 months and every day was a disaster. Of the 500,000 men in the Allied expedition, half of them were killed or wounded. The casualty rates among the Australians and New Zealanders were nearly one hundred percent; entire ANZAC battalions were wiped out in the campaign. To this day, Gallipoli–the heroism, the horrors and the futility– is seared in the history and consciousness of Australia and New Zealand. They remember Gallipoli, and the British incompetence that caused it.

Ironically, the strategy behind the campaign was brilliant. With its complete mastery of the sea, the British navy would force its way up the Dardanelle Straits, seize Constantinople, knock Turkey out of the war, open the Black Sea and supply the beleaguered Russians on the Eastern Front. Yes, the idea was brilliant, but reality was not accommodating.

When the combined British and French fleets first undertook their expedition–on this day in 1915— they found the channel had been mined and the Turkish batteries were more accurate than expected. Faced with unanticipated losses and unnerved by further uncertainties, the fleets retreated. In fact, they had already encountered the worst and would have had a comparatively mild cruise to Constantinople. The Allies did not know that, however, and the Turks did not bother to correct them.

The Allies had an alternative plan. They would land an expeditionary force on the coast along the Dardanelles, and brushing aside the surprised and sparse Turkish forces, march to Constantinople. Of course, the aborted naval expedition had made the Turks and their German advisers aware of the Allies’ intentions; and so they prepared for a second attack. The Dardanelles were no longer lightly defended.

Furthermore, there was an obvious place for the Allies to begin such an invasion: a peninsula jutting from the straits. It was called Gallipoli. Six weeks after the failed naval attack, the Allied troops began landing on Gallipoli.
But nothing seemed to go right. The troops were not transported to the right locations. Instead of disembarking on wide, gently sloping beaches, the soldiers found themselves trying to scale cliffs. As for the light, sparse Turkish resistance, there were six divisions and they fought ferociously.

The Allies did establish their beachheads but in eleven months, they never got much further than where they had originally landed. Their brilliant strategy had resulted in a irretrievable military disaster. The Allies had no hope of success and no choice but to evacuate.

It was a Turkish victory and one general, who had been distinguished for his leadership, would in a few years become the founder and first president of the Turkish Republic. Mustafa Kemal remains a hero of Turkey.

It was a British catastrophe and the Lord Admiral of the Navy, who had conceived the brilliant strategy, resigned in disgrace. He was given the rank of colonel on the Western Front and he half-hoped to be killed in action. But he survived, a heavy-drinking eccentric, an entertaining but dismissed backbencher in Parliament.

He had skill as a writer and lecturer and was able to make a living with his theatrical talents. As he aged, he became increasingly outspoken and belligerent, an imperial anachronism in a mundane, accommodating world.   But he thought of himself, not as a has-been or a relic, but as a thundering Jeremiah who foretold the gathering storm.

And he made himself heard with an eloquence that defined history. The scapegoat of 1915 would become the Prime Minister of 1940.

“A lack of empathy, little ability to form friendships, one-sided conversation, intense absorption in a special interest, and clumsy movements.”

This is the description of Asperger’s Syndrome. It also is the college application for the University of Chicago.

Today we observe the birth of Dr. Hans Asperger who discovered a clinical reason for being obnoxious. We don’t know if the doctor himself had the syndrome. The birth certificate from 1906 does not indicate that the infant was unusually overbearing, belittling the aesthetics of his mother’s birth canal or the inferior education of the midwife. However, his high school yearbook did declare him “Man Most Likely To Be Wedgied.”

Fortunately, because of Dr. Asperger, we now have a better understanding of the chronically unbearable. When you find yourself confronted by an aggressively obnoxious individual–and you are not at a car dealership–you should respond by knocking out the buffoon. Then search his or her pockets to diagnose the nature of the psychosis. If you find the unconscious has a Nobel Prize in Economics or a large collection of used dental floss, then the diagnosis is Asperger’s Syndrome. Try to be sympathetic. If, however, the unconscious has a copy of an Ayn Rand novel, a regimen of sympathy is not recommended or even possible. In fact, feel free to hit him again.

How Christian Were the Founders?

New York Times Magazine. February 14, 2010

Did the Founding Fathers intend America to  be a Christian nation? Well, they did insist that their slaves be Christian.  Does that prove how much the Founders thought of Christianity or how little?   There certainly is nothing in the Constitution to indicate any theological preference, unless the letter “t” in the word constitution really signifies a crucifix. 

However, Fundamentalism asserts its faith over facts.  It knows the unspoken, unwritten and unimagined intentions of the Founders.  As the self-anointed ventriloquist for the Founding Fathers, the Rite Wing demands that school textbooks indoctrinate children with a Christian interpretation of history.  Some school boards have complied, and their students will learn this preamble to the Constitution:  “I am Jesus’ little sunbeam.”

In truth, Christianity has its role in our early history.  During the 17th century, a number of colonies were founded as religious havens and had a theocratic character tyrannical enough to gratify any Fundamentalist.  By the 18th century, however, the secular spirit of the Enlightenment prevailed among the educated classes in America.  Some of the Founding Fathers did not even think of themselves as Christians.  They regarded God, not as  a demanding Semitic busybody, but as “the watchmaker”: the rational creator who set the universe in motion. Thomas Jefferson, along with Benjamin Franklin, had that theological view: Deism.

John Adams was an Unitarian, a creed that regards Jesus as an exemplary human being but not divine.  George Washington and James Madison were Episcopalians but they showed more fervor as members of the Freemasons. Indeed, the Masonic influence was more prevalent than Christianity in this nation’s founding: check out the back of the dollar bill. That is not the eye of Jesus staring at you.

Since the Founding Fathers were not belligerently Christian, the Rite Wing has to quote Founding Nephews and Founding Second Cousins. You will be relieved to know that Elias Boudinot was a determined defender of the Gospels. (See if Boudinot is even in Wikipedia.) In his personal correspondence, John Marshall referred to American as a Christian society; however, the Chief Justice refrained from imposing that view in any Supreme Court decisions.

Nonetheless, a number of the Founders were Christians, and some even were clergymen. So why they did acquiesce to the secular character of the constitution and the government? The fact is that these Christians did not trust each other. Today, Protestantism is largely homogenized: can you tell the difference between a Lutheran, a Congregationalist, an Episcopalian and a Methodist? But in the 18th century, those differences were very pronounced and frequently antagonistic. The Congregationalists and the Episcopalians disliked each other, and you can only imagine how they felt about Catholics. Quakers were none too popular either (and they were not allowed to defend themselves). The Mother Country was only too happy to dole out a colony to each and every denomination–just to get them out of England.

The Congregationalists of New England, the Episcopalians of the South, the Catholics of Maryland, the Quakers of Pennsylvania, and the Methodists and the Presbyterians scattered throughout the colonies were never going to agree on the definition of Christianity. And each of these denominations knew it. So they reconciled themselves to a compromise and accepted secularism over sectarianism. It was the rational choice; in a society where no creed is dominant, all creeds are equal.

If the Founders had intended a Christian society, America would never have succeeded.

February 15, 1898:  Hot Time in Havana

On this day in 1898, God did William Randolph Hearst a big favor and blew up the boiler of the battleship Maine. The battleship blew up with it. (They just don’t make boilers like that, anymore.) Of course, the Spanish looked guilty; that is the disadvantage of being brunet.

Now Hearst had an excuse to incite a war against Spain. Of course, he would have found some pretext, perhaps depicting Miguel Cervantes and Francisco Goya torturing “The Katzenjammer Kids” on the comic pages. But the mysterious sinking of the USS Maine was very convenient. When Hearst blew up, so did the Congress. (They still do make Congresses like that!) So off to war we went.

Spain was no match for the United States. We quickly “liberated” Puerto Rico, Cuba, Guam and the Philippines. We could have taken Spain itself. This was–in words of our Secretary of State John Hay–“a splendid little war.”

Furthermore, we created a fashion. Everyone else wanted ‘a splendid little war’ too. In 1899, the British decided to annex the Boers’ Republics in Southern Africa–and any adjacent gold and diamond mines. However, “Marching to Pretoria” proved easier to sing than accomplish. The Boers resisted–and used their gold and diamonds to buy machine guns. That splendid little war took three years and 22,000 British lives.

In 1904, Russia was posturing in the Far East, threatening the “Monkey Men”, the Tsar’s somewhat insensitive term for the Japanese. It promised to be a splendid, little war–except that the Japanese won. The Monkey Men evidently were more highly evolved than the Russians.

And in 1914 Austria-Hungary decided to teach Serbia a lesson. That didn’t end up splendid or little, either.

Apparently, “splendid little wars” only occur with Spain or perhaps Grenada. Definitely not with Iraq or Afghanistan.

If only Saint Valentine practiced what he preached…Roman Emperors have feelings, too. The Emperor Claudius II (268-270) was feeling unappreciated. Coping with barbarian invasions and rebellious governors, the poor fellow didn’t even have time to pick an original name for himself. (Everyone was confusing him with the stammering, limping hero of PBS.) And when Claudius II did manage to defeat the Goths and the Alamanni–delaying for 150 years the Dark Ages and Richard Wagner–did anyone bother to thank him?

No. The pagans were preoccupied with bread, circuses and orgies, and that new monotheist cult refused to make just a few sacrifices in his honor. Even the old monotheist cult was more amenable than that; of course, it took three lost wars, the destruction of Jerusalem and expulsion from Judea to remind the Jews to include a few perfunctory prayers for the Emperor. However, the new cult was dogmatic in its refusal, preferring persecution to courtesy.

That really seemed unfair to Claudius and the Empire. Christianity was an ingrate. Roman roads made it easier for missionaries, and the fresh water from aqueducts ensured that baptisms didn’t cause cholera.

Would it have been too much for Saint Valentine to send the Emperor a thank you note?

“I’m sorry you had nothing better to do, but welcome anyway to our coverage of the Winter Olympics here, someplace in Canada.  I’m Bob Costas, along with Matt Lauer.”

Matt:  “Thanks, Bob.  Did you know that Canada is the second largest country in the world, and that no two snow flakes are alike.  I have slides to prove it.” 

Bob:  The Opening Ceremonies for this, the 21st Winter Olympics, begin with an explanation how Vancouver is different from Calgary.

Matt:  You’d think that Calgary was named for two people, but it actually is named for a place in Scotland. 

Bob:  Following the three-minute tribute to Canadian history, there will be the procession of the Olympic teams.  Twenty-three teams are here, representing 112 countries.  For example, Norway has volunteered to be proxy for Uruguay, Qatar, Laos, Benin and Portugal.  If someone provides the flag, the Norwegians will carry it.  Yes, it is a scam but as long as the Canadians don’t know, they won’t be hurt. 

Matt:  You’d be surprised how many famous people are actually Canadian.  Three of the first four actresses to win Academy Awards were Canadian.

Bob:  Mary Pickford, Norma Shearer, and–I’ll guess– Marie Dressler.

Matt:  Well, I don’t know.  The staff didn’t provide me with those notes. 

Bob:  Our viewers probably can see one of their movies on Turner Classic Movies right now.  God knows, I wish I could.

Matt:  Canada is also famous for its red-coated Mounted Police, popularly known as the Mounties.

Bob:  I bet we could get some up here if I made a death threat against the Premier.  

Matt:  That would be Stephen Harper.

Bob:  And four hours of this broadcast left.  I think we’re ready for your slide show of snow flakes.  Will the last person in the stadium please remember to light the Olympic torch? 

p.s.  Here, from the archives, are the Beijing Olympics:  https://finermanworks.com/your_rda_of_irony/2008/08/10/watching-the-opening-ceremony-of-the-olympics/

Yes, I am referring to Abraham Lincoln. In case you were wondering, my other favorite Republicans are Teddy Roosevelt, Jimmy Stewart, Barbara Stanwyck and Adolphe Menjou. True, it is not a long list. I could include two personal friends, but these days–out of embarrassment–they claim to be Libertarians. And yes, I do like John Wayne, but I never can forgive him for being a draft dodger. Neither could a naval veteran named John Ford, who used to ridicule Wayne about “being a sissy”; in fact, he once even made John Wayne cry.

Of course, modern Republicans would not want to be associated with a pair of liberals like Lincoln and Teddy R. It is surprising that their heads are still on Mount Rushmore. (You can imagine Halliburton getting a no-bid contract for that project.) But, oh the irony, the Republicans were once the liberals of American politics. Granted that liberalism was confined to one issue, but it was the biggest issue of the day. The Republicans were opposed to slavery. Some advocated its outright abolition; however, most Republicans had the temperate approach that we expect from liberals. They just opposed the expansion of slavery into new states. You’d think that would be an inoffensive, sensible compromise. Iowa, Nebraska and the Dakotas really are not ideal for cotton. But the South would not recognize even economic practicality as a limit to their cherished “institution”. If the South was not free to have slaves (freedom is a relative concept), then the South would leave the Union. Of course, it was constricting itself to the same geographic confinement proposed by its Republican enemies, but the South’s gray matter evidently was limited to uniforms.

Once the Civil War was won and slavery was abolished (replaced by mere serfdom), the Republicans had lost their reason for being. However, they so enjoyed power that decided to improvise a new platform. The now defunct Whig party had an incestuous affection for business, although its war hero candidates usually could camouflage the financial self-interests. That philosophy and strategy suited the intellectually-bereft Republicans. And they happened to have a new generation of war heroes, starting with Ulysses Grant himself, to front for the robber barons and their pet politicians.

Aside from Teddy Roosevelt, an aristocrat who took his noblesse oblige quite seriously, the Republican Party is essentially the same kleptocratic, stagnant-quo of the Grant adminstration. It is occasionally stirred by a social awareness but always confuses self-righteousness with morality. That is how we got Prohibition, McCarthyism and the Patriot Act.

I imagine that Abraham Lincoln would have been on Richard Nixon’s and Dick Cheney’s enemies list. And he would have been flattered.

p.s.  Of course, Southerners claim that history misunderstands “the Glorious Cause.”  Their War had nothing to do with slavery.   Yet, they can’t seem to offer any other reason why the South attempted to secede from the Union.  A faulty memory might be caused by a tight hood. 

If only to atone for the inconvenience of the truth, I can proffer this excuse to the South:

The South simply wanted to avoid Mary Lincoln.  (That is very plausible except that all of the other states would have seceded too.)

February 10, 1840:  Bert Coburg Finds Steady Work

A Happy 170th Wedding Anniversary to Queen Victoria and Prince Albert!

Victoria and Albert could be considered the Lucy and Ricky of their time. She is earnest but not terribly bright; he is intellectual, puritanical and foreign. She adores him, and he lets her…and she does have her way. There are nine children. The oldest daughter, Vicky, is Miss Perfect; she is practically her father in drag. The oldest son, Bertie, is a classic goof and party-animal; he is the despair of his father. Of course, Vicky and Al also have some zany neighbors: Lou and Genie Bonaparte. (Lou is a rogue who always coming up with some get-rich-quick scheme, such as trying to setting up an empire in Mexico. He is the despair of his wife–who is dumb but gorgeous.)

Unfortunately, during the 22nd season of “I Love Vicky“, Albert does a John Ritter. There are a series of guest male leads to keep Victoria busy for the next 39 seasons. Among the stars are the charming, hilarious Ben Disraeli and the impossibly pompous William Gladstone. Of course, Bertie is still undermining the Victorian household; he now is a serial adulterer. And his oldest son may be Jack the Ripper. The oldest daughter, the perfect Vicky, has produced a perfect monster for a child: Willie to his grandmother, Kaiser Wilhelm to his subjects.

That is the basic outline. If we market it to cable, we’ll have to include nude scenes.

February 9, 1830:  Birth Announcements from the Topkapi Harem

Remember when American business was trying to emulate the samurai code? Of course, our MBAs always seemed to translate hara-kiri as “golden parachute.” I would suggest a more accurate historical role model for our CEOs: the last decades of the Ottoman Empire. The parallels are uncanny. The employees are already being treated like Armenians.

The Sultans did realize that their Empire was decaying and disintegrating. So they made a number of attempts to reform the Empire. First and foremost, they built themselves modern European palaces. If your realm is going down the drain, you at least want up-to-date plumbing. The Sultans also undertook a number of bold initiatives at reform, never quite figuring out what they actually were doing but always succeeding in wasting money.

Today is the birthday of one of those dynamos of incompetence: Abdulaziz, who ruled from 1861-1876. The Ottoman Empire had been diagnosed as the Sick Man of Europe but it was just as feeble in the Middle East. Former Turkish provinces either had become independent or now were someone’s else colonies: Serbia, Greece, Rumania, Egypt, Crimea and Algeria. Abdulaziz hoped to stave off further decline by reforming the Turkish armed forces. He appreciated the strategic value of a modern navy; it might keep the Russians on their side of the Black Sea. So he bought the Empire a fleet of battleships; by the time that his buying spree was over, the Ottoman Empire had the third largest navy in Europe. Unfortunately, it really was more of an inventory than a fleet because there were not enough qualified sailors to operate it. The engine technology was a little beyond Turkey’s galley ship mentality.

Abdulaziz also attempted to reform the Turkish army along European lines; however, his idea of a a model army was France’s. The results of the Franco-Prussian War proved disillusioning. So, acknowledging these failed reforms, Abdulaziz turned his energies to diplomacy. He sought to ally Turkey with Russia. It certainly was a visionary idea. He merely had to dissuade Russia from its dream of conquering the Balkans from an enfeebled Turkey and ruling a restored Byzantine Empire from the liberated capital of Constantinople. Could a chicken–or a turkey–persuade a fox to become vegetarian? During the last year of his reign, rebellions were occurring throughout the Balkans, covertly incited and then overtly supported by a certain Slavic Empire.

At least, the Turkish armed forces were capable of coup d’etats. Abdulaziz was ousted, and he apparently committed suicide a few days later. The succeeding Sultan, his nephew Murad, spent his reign having a nervous breakdown. He lasted three months, at least as Sultan. (He lived another 28 years in pampered convalescence.) Murad’s brother then ascended the throne. He is remembered as Abdul the Damned, so you can guess how glorious his reign was. Somehow, though, he survived 33 years and the loss of Bulgaria, Bosnia and Cyprus before the army retired him as well. He lived in decadent confinement another nine years, watching his brother Mehmed lose the rest of the Empire. And poor Mehmed couldn’t even be blamed. He was just a puppet of the army and its self-styled reformists the Young Turks. The Young Turks preserved the Ottoman tradition of losing wars, including an especially big one in 1918. They left the Turkish Empire confined to Turkey.

So, you can see the parallels and inspirations for American business. It did take the Ottoman Empire two centuries to stagnate, decay and collapse. With modern technology, we can do everything so much faster.