Destruction of a city and a reputation

Today, Nov. 4, is the anniversary of the 1576 “Spanish Fury” in Antwerp, one of those incidents that casts humanity in a truly dreadful light especially when it comes to public affairs.

Humans are an odd mix of the trite, the appalling and the uplifting. In the midst of darkness they can find light. But they can also create darkness on such a scale that there is no shortage of plausible characterizations of history along the lines of Herbert Spencer’s “history is little more than the Newgate calendar of nations.” The Newgate Calendar was, in case you don’t own a copy, an 18th and 19th century lurid set of stories about people who wound up being executed for having been brutal and dissolute, subtitled The Malefactors’ Bloody Register, and was third only to the Bible and Pilgrim’s Progress on the list of books the average British home would contain in those days). Thus Hegel called history a butcher’s block wile British historian of Parliament Lewis Namier claimed that “History is made up of juggernauts, revolting to human feeling in their blindness, supremely humorous in their stupidity.” Yet it is hard even to find much humour in the conduct of Imperial Spain, especially in this incident.

The “Spanish Fury” begins with the Eighty Years’ War, which already sounds bad and is. It was a revolt by Spain’s “Seventeen Provinces” (what would later become more or less the Netherlands, Belgium and Luxembourg, plus parts of France) against Spanish imperial rule that was as brutal and intransigent as it was bad and unsuitable to these particular regions. And it is already easy to denounce the kind of dynastic politics that would turn the Burgundian Netherlands into the Hapsburg Netherlands and then, in the 16th century, transfer them to Spain with which they had very little in common.

Then you get the Spanish unwillingness to accept the inhabitants’ manifest desire not to be ruled from Madrid, contrasting grimly with their willingness to shed blood over nearly a century to keep it. Which failed.

Indeed, the “Spanish Fury” itself was both counterproductive in preserving Spanish rule and the result of incompetent Spanish rule. It was carried out by troops who were actually mutinying because they hadn’t been paid. By the government of Spain, mind you, not the people of Antwerp. Madrid was as usual bankrupt despite, or perhaps because of, the vast flow of silver from its New World colonies that let it pursue grandiose geopolitical plans without the necessity of governing well at home or abroad.

The mutinous troops rampaged for three days, murdering, raping, looting and burning, killing some 7,000 people and permanently damaging Antwerp, leading to Amsterdam’s rise to the leading city of the region. And this ghastly episode also reinforced negative views of Spain abroad and gave further credence to anti-Spanish propaganda including from Britain, what has been denounced as “La Leyenda Negra” by Spanish historians. But it was by no means all legend. Indeed, this was just one of many “Spanish Furies” in the area over more than a decade.

In the end, these outbursts only increased the determination of the Seventeen Provinces to achieve independence from this tyrannical, bloodthirsty and inept regime, which Spain resisted violently until 1648 when the conclusion of the even more appalling Thirty Years’ War secured the independence of the Dutch Republic though the “Spanish Netherlands” were kept by Spain until 1714 when they went back to the Austrian Hapsburgs.

The whole episode is unbelievably violent, coarse, stupid and persistent. And sadly it’s the sort of thing people do all too often, especially in public affairs.

We wish to inform our readers

Times of India Buildings, ca. 1898 (Wikipedia) Speaking of places everybody’s watching, this is the anniversary of the 1st edition of the Times of India on November 3, 1838. And no, I don’t mean everybody was or is watching India. Back then it was Britain. And if Britain had quality newspapers, the inevitable question was why you didn’t.

You could answer that newspapers were Western and imperialist and you didn’t want one. Before sneaking off to read a British one in private even if it was months old and tattered. Or you could say yours was as good. Or that you were planning one. Or that the government should do something. But you just couldn’t ignore the question.

Now the Times of India, which began life as The Bombay Times and Journal of Commerce, has generally aspired to give the second answer and done very well. It is the third-largest newspaper in India by circulation and the largest-selling English-language daily in the world. (And no, practically nobody cares what the largest-selling paper is in any other language; you see how this works.) And while it too may succumb to this dang Internet thing, it has consistently had a high reputation for quality.

It is an important Indian institution. And yet it is, of course, utterly foreign in origin and conception. Its original publisher was Raobahadur Narayan Dinanath Velkar, who you don’t get points for guessing was Indian. But its first editor was one J.E. Brennan and it published news from Britain as well as India and the world.

As of course it would because the “newspaper” is an entirely western idea, and moreover Anglosphere journalism has a tone not found even elsewhere in the West. And the “World Revolution of Westernization” so brilliantly discussed by Theodore von Laue in his book of the same name has swept over the world to the point that the only places that don’t have newspapers are either total backwaters or places that used to have them before the smartphone came along.

It’s now the United States. But for a long time, including the 19th century, it was Britain (and what could be a more British name than The Bombay Times and Journal of Commerce?). And you can curse imperialism until your teeth ache, and write endless stinging editorials against it. But you’ll still be writing them in a newspaper that you would not begin to have without imperialism, any more than you’d have editorials.

Gimmee an I, gimmee a T

Cheerleaders at the University of Wisconsin–Madison in 1948 (Wikipedia) The world is a big place. And yet in most eras including our own, all eyes are on one particular spot much of the time. There is one country to which people in all others compare themselves, and their own nation, with varying degrees of admiration, complacency, bitterness or other emotions. Which is my segue to the invention of cheerleading.

Yes, cheerleading. On Nov. 2 1898. And it could only be in… you know it. The United States. Specifically the University of Minnesota.

The latter was not a foregone conclusion. And the “sport” or activity or excrescence or whatever you consider it has of course historical roots, from British sports crowds chanting various things in unison, some more edifying than others, to the U.S. college scene. Including a “Princeton Cheer” documented from the late 1870s on that went “Hurrah! Hurrah! Hurrah! Tiger! S-s-s-t! Boom! A-h-h-h!” and more or less still does and accounts for the otherwise baffling “Sis Boom Bah” I first encountered in Pogo. If you care.

The point here isn’t the comics I read as a kid and still consider brilliant. Nor is it people in the stands yelling even with “cheer leaders” designated to trigger these arguably inane outbursts at key moments. It’s the point at which a “cheerleading squad” appeared to help focus the crowd’s enthusiasm, followed by a cheerleading fraternity in 1903 and then the invention of girls in revealing clothing.

Well, not exactly. But just as World War II opened up a great many other jobs for women as men went overseas, so it let them into cheerleading. From which they have never been dislodged, making up over 95% of all participants though in a nod to political correctness American colleges keep the ratio pretty even. And you just know this sort of thing would arise in the United States and everyone else would know about it.

Nowadays the United States apparently has around 1.5 million cheerleaders at all levels, against perhaps 100,000 in the whole rest of the world. And of course being American they have continually made it bigger, glitzier and more dramatic, from the aforementioned clothing to increasingly amazing athletics, organized competitions and so on.

Meanwhile the rest of the world gapes in amusement, delight or horror. But gape they do. Whereas what anyone does at sporting events in 98% of the world’s countries is known only there.

The United States does give some alarming signs of being in decline. And perhaps it is no longer inventing such iconically weird things the way it did in the late 19th and early 20th centuries. But I wouldn’t count on it.

Not even as part of a crowd being directed by preppie guys wit megaphones while girls in spangles form a pyramid.