Posts Tagged ‘Venice’

Who Is Your Ally This Week?

Posted in General on December 10th, 2009 by Eugene Finerman – Be the first to comment

December 10, 1508:  Everyone Hates Venice

If Pope Alexander VI had a dispute with the Doge of Venice, it is likely that the Venetian leader would have suddenly succumbed to an inexplicable case of  food poisoning.  Pope Julius II was not quite so subtle; he did have a dispute with the Doge, so he plunged Europe into war.  His Holiness organized an alliance, known as the League of Cambrai, on this day in 1508. France, Spain, the Holy Roman Empire and the Papal States were arrayed against the Venetian Republic. Venice discovered the disadvantage of being small and rich. Of course, all those riches did allow the Republic to field armies of mercenaries; so at least Venice was not completely defenseless. Nonetheless, the coalition was overwhelming–and Venice was losing ground–especially to France.

Now, the French wanted to keep all that they had won. They were not good at sharing, and considering that they were guests in Italy, the Pope was especially offended. So Julius decided in 1510 to switch sides and ally the Papal States with Venice. It took Spain and the Holy Roman Empire about a year to figure out which side that they were on, but they eventually joined the war against France. Of course, England never had any doubts–it was just Anti-French and young Henry VIII wanted to play soldier. So if England was on one side, then Scotland had to be on the other.

The Italian alliances, however, lacked that kind of clarity. More of a soldier than a theologian, Pope Julius was able to maintain the Anti-French alliance despite the conflicting interests of the theoretical allies. (The Hapsburgs proved just as bad guests as the French). Unfortunately, in 1513 Julius was 69–and he acted his age. His successor Leo X was no soldier or diplomat (but he would have made a good host for an art series on PBS); he did not like the Hapsburgs but was too lethargic and maladroit to curb their expansion. A frustrated and endangered Venice had no alternative but irony; in 1513 it switched sides and allied with France.

(So, here is a summary of the alliances: first, everyone against Venice; then, everyone against France; finally, France and Venice against everyone else.)

Surprisingly, that last combination actually worked. The Hapsburgs were driven back–at least for a few years–and Northern Italy was left in the hands of the French and the Venetians. Pope Leo did not care; as it turned out, he was Pro-French, too. Besides, his Holiness apparently was preoccupied in organizing an alliance of Northern Europe against the Church; if so, that worked too.

Who Is Your Ally This Week….

Posted in On This Day on September 11th, 2008 by Eugene Finerman – Be the first to comment

It is unlikely that many of the English archers or their Scottish pin cushions at Flodden would have identified their battle as part of a war that begin in Italy. Yet, five years earlier–in 1508, Pope Julius II attempted to organize an alliance against Venice. France, Spain, the Holy Roman Empire and the Papal States were arrayed against the Venetian Republic. Venice discovered the disadvantage of being small and rich. Of course, all those riches did allow the Republic to field armies of mercenaries; so at least Venice was not completely defenseless. Nonetheless, the coalition was overwhelming–and Venice was losing ground–especially to France.

Now, the French wanted to keep all that they had won. They were not good at sharing, and considering that they were guests in Italy, the Pope was especially offended. So Julius decided in 1510 to switch sides and ally the Papal States with Venice. It took Spain and the Holy Roman Empire about a year to figure out which side that they were on, but they eventually joined the war against France. Of course, England never had any doubts–it was just Anti-French and young Henry VIII wanted to play soldier. So if England was on one side, then Scotland had to be on the other. And that led to Flodden…

The Italian alliances, however, lacked that kind of clarity. More of a soldier than a theologian, Pope Julius was able to maintain the Anti-French alliance despite the conflicting interests of the theoretical allies. (The Hapsburgs proved just as bad guests as the French). Unfortunately, in 1513 Julius was 69–and he acted his age. His successor Leo X was no soldier or diplomat (but he would have made a good host for an art series on PBS); he did not like the Hapsburgs but was too lethargic and maladroit to curb their expansion. A frustrated and endangered Venice had no alternative but irony; in 1513 it switched sides and allied with France.

(So, here is a summary of the alliances: first, everyone against Venice; then, everyone against France; finally, France and Venice against everyone else.)

Surprisingly, that last combination actually worked. The Hapsburgs were driven back–at least for a few years–and Northern Italy was left in the hands of the French and the Venetians. The Pope did not care; as it turned out, he was Pro-French, too. Besides, his Holiness apparently was preoccupied in organizing an alliance of Northern Europe against the Church; if so, that worked too.

Doge Ball

Posted in English Stew on June 26th, 2008 by Eugene Finerman – Be the first to comment

The city-state of Venice was a republic by default. None of its ruling families was able to eliminate or terrorize its rivals. So the aristocrats agreed to share power but only among themselves. Their idea of a republic would be our idea of a country club. The club—the Grand Council–had 450 members; and the rest of Venice’s population amounted to 140,000 waiters and caddies. (But the club members were good tippers.)

However, even the Grand Council did not govern Venice. The club’s steering committee and executive board managed the day to day affairs of the mercantile empire. There was also the club president: the Doge. The Doge was elected for life, but the election process would have bewildered a Byzantine.

It was as much a lottery as an election. First, 30 members of the Grand Council were chosen by lot.  From this group, 9 were chosen by lot. Those 9 members selected 40 members of the Grand Council; and from the 40, then 12 were chosen by lot. The 12 would select 25 members; and a lottery would pick 9 of them. They would elect 45 members, and then a lottery would choose 11 from them. The 11 would choose 41 members–who actually would elect the Doge. Oh, the Doge had to receive at least 25 out of 41 votes.

And you thought that our Electoral College was stupid. Yet, this convoluted system served Venice for five centuries, from 1268 to 1797.

Furthermore, this bewildering process did enrich our vocabulary. In the electoral lottery, each member received a wax ball which had to be broken open. If his wax ball contained a piece of parchment with the word “lector”, the lucky member proceeded to the next stage of the election. The word for these wax orbs was “ballotes.”

That does sound familiar.