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AHistoryofEuropeintheModernWorld11thedition.pdf

A HISTORY OF EUROPE

IN THE MODERN WORLD

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E L E V E N T H E D I T I O N

A HISTORY OF EUROPE IN THE MODERN WORLD

R.R. Palmer Joel Colton Lloyd Kramer

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A HISTORY OF EUROPE IN THE MODERN WORLD, ELEVENTH EDITION

Published by McGraw-Hill Education, 2 Penn Plaza, New York, NY 10121. Copyright © 2014 by

McGraw-Hill Education. All rights reserved. Printed in the United States of America. Previous editions

© 2007, 2002, and 1995. No part of this publication may be reproduced or distributed in any form or by

any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written consent of McGraw-Hill

Education, including, but not limited to, in any network or other electronic storage or transmission, or

broadcast for distance learning.

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customers outside the United States.

This book is printed on acid-free paper.

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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Palmer, R. R. (Robert Roswell), 1909-2002.

[History of the modern world]

A history of Europe in the modern world / R.R. Palmer, Joel Colton, Lloyd Kramer. —

Eleventh edition.

pages cm

Includes bibliographical references and index.

ISBN 978-0-07-338554-9 (acid-free paper) — ISBN 978-0-07-759960-7 (acid-free paper)

— ISBN 978-0-07-759958-4 (acid-free paper) 1. History, Modern.

2. Europe—History—1492- I. Colton, Joel, 1918-2011. II. Kramer, Lloyd S.

III. Title.

D209.P26 2014

090.08—dc23

2013018526

The Internet addresses listed in the text were accurate at the time of publication. The inclusion of a website

does not indicate an endorsement by the authors or McGraw-Hill Education, and McGraw-Hill Education

does not guarantee the accuracy of the information presented at these sites.

www.mhhe.com

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v

R.R. PALMER was born in Chicago. After graduating from the University of Chicago he received his Ph.D. from Cornell University in 1934. From 1936 to 1963 he taught at Princeton University, taking

leave during World War II to work on historical projects in Washington, D.C. In 1963 he moved

to Washington University in St. Louis to serve as dean of arts and sciences but in 1969 resumed

his career in teaching and research, this time at Yale. After his retirement he lived in Princeton,

where he was affi liated with the Institute for Advanced Study, and then in a retirement community

in Newtown Pennsylvania. Of the numerous books he wrote, translated, and edited, three of the most

important have been his Catholics and Unbelievers in Eighteenth-Century France (1939); Twelve Who Ruled: The Year of the Terror in the French Revolution (1941, 1989); and his two-volume Age of the Democratic Revolution (1959, 1964), the fi rst volume of which won the Bancroft Prize. He served as president of the American Historical Association in 1970, received honorary degrees from

universities in the United States and abroad, and was awarded the Antonio Feltrinelli International

Prize for History in Rome in 1990. He was a long-time fellow of the American Philosophical Society

and of the American Academy of Arts and Sciences. He died in 2002, widely recognized as one of

the preeminent historians of his generation.

JOEL COLTON was born in New York City. A graduate of the City College of New York, he served as a military intelligence offi cer in Europe in World War II, and received his Ph.D. from Columbia

University in 1950. He served on the faculty of Duke University for more than four decades, chairing

the History Department from 1967 to1974 and chairing the university’s academic council from 1971

to 1973. On leave from Duke, he served from 1974 to 1981 with the Rockefeller Foundation in New

York as director of its research and fellowship program in the humanities. In 1986 Duke voted him

a Distinguished Teaching Award. He received Guggenheim, Rockefeller Foundation, and National

Endowment for the Humanities fellowships. He served on the editorial boards of the Journal of Modern History, French Historical Studies and Historical Abstracts, and was co-president of the International Commission on the History of Social Movements and Social Structures. In 1979 he was

elected a fellow of the American Academy of Arts and Sciences. His writings include Compulsory Labor Arbitration in France, 1936–1939 (1951); Léon Blum: Humanist in Politics (1966, 1987), for which he received a Mayfl ower Award; Twentieth Century (1968,1980) in The Time-Life Great Ages of Man Series; and numerous contributions to journals, encyclopedias, and collaborative volumes. He died in 2011, having served as the distinguished co-author of A History of the Modern World for every revision after the fi rst edition.

LLOYD KRAMER was born in Maryville, Tennessee, and graduated from Maryville College. He received his Ph.D. from Cornell University in 1983. Before entering Cornell, he was a teacher in

Hong Kong and he traveled widely in Asia. After completing his graduate studies, he taught at

Stanford University and Northwestern University. Since 1986 he has been a member of the faculty

at the University of North Carolina, Chapel Hill, where he is currently a professor of History. He has

served two terms as chair of his Department and received two awards for distinguished undergradu-

ate teaching. His writings include Threshold of a New World: Intellectuals and the Exile Experience in Paris, 1830–1848 (1988); Lafayette in Two Worlds: Public Cultures and Personal Identities in an Age of Revolutions (1996), which won the Gilbert Chinard Prize from the Society for French His- torical Studies and the Annibel Jenkins Biography Prize from the American Society for Eighteenth-

Century Studies; and Nationalism in Europe and America: Politics, Cultures, and Identities since 1775 (2011). He has also co-edited several books, including a collection of essays on historical edu- cation in America and A Companion to Western Historical Thought (2002). He has been a member of the School of Historical Studies at the Institute for Advanced Study and a Fellow at the National

Humanities Center; and he served as president of the Society for French Historical Studies.

A b o u t t h e A u t h o r s

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vi

List of Chapter Illustrations xiv

List of Chronologies, Historical Interpretations and Debates, Maps, Charts,

and Tables xxii

Preface xxv

Geography and History 1

Chapter 1 The Rise of Europe 9

Chapter 2 The Upheaval in Western Christendom, 1300–1560 49

Chapter 3 The Atlantic World, Commerce, and Wars of Religion, 1560–1648 99

Chapter 4 The Growing Power of Western Europe, 1640–1715 147

Chapter 5 The Transformation of Eastern Europe, 1648–1740 195

Chapter 6 The Scientifi c View of the World 233

Chapter 7 The Global Struggle for Wealth and Empire 267

Chapter 8 The Age of Enlightenment 309

Chapter 9 The French Revolution 363

Chapter 10 Napoleonic Europe 411

Chapter 11 Industries, Ideas, and the Struggle for Reform, 1815–1848 449

Chapter 12 Revolutions and the Reimposition of Order, 1848–1870 501

Chapter 13 The Consolidation of Large Nation-States, 1859–1871 535

Chapter 14 European Civilization, 1871–1914: Economy and Politics 569

Chapter 15 European Civilization, 1871–1914: Society and Cultur e 611

Chapter 16 Europe’s World Supremacy, 1871–1914 643

Chapter 17 The First World War 689

Chapter 18 The Russian Revolution and the Emergence of the Soviet Union 735

Chapter 19 Democracy, Anti-Imperialism, and the Economic Crisis after the First World War 779

Chapter 20 Democracy and Dictatorship in the 1930s 811

Chapter 21 The Second World War 843

Chapter 22 The Cold War and Reconstruction after the Second World War 883

Chapter 23 Decolonization and the Breakup of the European Empires 925

Chapter 24 Coexistence, Confrontation, and the New European Economy 959

B r i e f C o n t e n t s

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viiBrief Contents

Chapter 25 The International Revolt against Soviet Communism 987

Chapter 26 Europe and the Changing Modern World 1019

Appendix Rulers and Regimes A1

Index I1 Suggestions for Further Reading Online at www.mhhe.com/palmerhistory11e

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viii

List of Chapter Illustrations xiv

List of Chronologies, Historical Interpretations and Debates, Maps, Charts,

and Tables xxii

Preface xxv

Geography and History 1

Chapter 1 THE RISE OF EUROPE 9

1. Ancient Times: Greece, Rome, and Christianity 11 2. The Early Middle Ages: The Formation of Europe 19 3. The High Middle Ages: Secular Civilization 29 4. The High Middle Ages: The Church 38

Chapter 2 THE UPHEAVAL IN WESTERN CHRISTENDOM, 1300–1560 49

5. Disasters of the Fourteenth Century 50 6. The Renaissance in Italy 56 7. The Renaissance Outside Italy 70 8. The New Monarchies 74 9. The Protestant Reformation 77 10. Catholicism Reformed and Reorganized 93

Chapter 3 THE ATLANTIC WORLD, COMMERCE, AND WARS OF RELIGION, 1560–1648 99

11. The Opening of the Atlantic 100 12. The Commercial Revolution 108 13. Changing Social Structures 117 14. The Wars of Catholic Spain: The Netherlands and England 124 15. The Disintegration and Reconstruction of France 133 16. The Thirty Years’ War, 1618–1648: The Disintegration

of Germany 138

Chapter 4 THE GROWING POWER OF WESTERN EUROPE, 1640–1715 147

17. The Grand Monarque and the Balance of Power 148 18. The Dutch Republic 151

C o n t e n t s

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Contents ix

19. Britain: The Civil War 158 20. Britain: The Triumph of Parliament 165 21. The France of Louis XIV, 1643–1715: The Triumph

of Absolutism 173

22. The Wars of Louis XIV: The Peace of Utrecht, 1713 186

Chapter 5 THE TRANSFORMATION OF EASTERN EUROPE, 1648–1740 195

23. Three Aging Empires 196 24. The Formation of an Austrian Monarchy 206 25. The Formation of Prussia 210 26. The Transformation of Russia 218

Chapter 6 THE SCIENTIFIC VIEW OF THE WORLD 233

27. The Emergence of a Scientifi c Culture: Bacon and Descartes 234 28. The Road to Newton: The Law of Universal Gravitation 240 29. New Knowledge of Human Beings and Society 251 30. Political Theory: The School of Natural Law 260

Chapter 7 THE GLOBAL STRUGGLE FOR WEALTH AND EMPIRE 267

31. Elite and Popular Cultures 268 32. The Global Economy of the Eighteenth Century 275 33. Western Europe after the Peace of Utrecht, 1713–1740 285 34. The Great War of the Mid-Eighteenth Century: The Peace

of Paris, 1763 294

Chapter 8 THE AGE OF ENLIGHTENMENT 309

35. The Philosophes—and Others 310 36. Enlightened Despotism: France, Austria, Prussia 324 37. Enlightened Despotism: Russia 333 38. The Partitions of Poland 339 39. New Stirrings: The British Reform Movement 343 40. The American Revolution 352

Chapter 9 THE FRENCH REVOLUTION 363

41. Social and Cultural Backgrounds 364 42. The Revolution and the Reorganization of France 369

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Contentsx

43. The Revolution and Europe: The War and the “Second” Revolution, 1792 385

44. The Emergency Republic, 1792–1795: The Terror 389 45. The Constitutional Republic: The Directory, 1795–1799 400 46. The Authoritarian Republic: The Consulate, 1799–1804 405

Chapter 10 NAPOLEONIC EUROPE 411

47. The Formation of the French Imperial System 412 48. The Grand Empire: Spread of the Revolution 420 49. The Continental System: Britain and Europe 425 50. The National Movements and New Nationalist Cultures 431 51. The Overthrow of Napoleon: The Congress of Vienna 437

Chapter 11 INDUSTRIES, IDEAS, AND THE STRUGGLE FOR REFORM, 1815–1848 449

52. The Industrial Revolution in Britain 451 53. The Advent of the “ISMS” 460 54. The Leaking Dam and the Flood: Domestic 475 55. The Leaking Dam and the Flood: International 479 56. The Breakthrough of Liberalism in the West:

Revolutions of 1830–1832 487

57. Triumph of the West European Bourgeoisie 495

Chapter 12 REVOLUTIONS AND THE REIMPOSITION OF ORDER, 1848–1870 501

58. Paris: The Specter of Social Revolution in the West 502 59. Vienna: The Nationalist Revolutions in Central Europe

and Italy 508

60. Frankfurt and Berlin: The Question of a Liberal Germany 515 61. The New European “ISMS”: Realism, Positivism,

Marxism 520

62. Bonapartism: The Second French Empire, 1852–1870 530

Chapter 13 THE CONSOLIDATION OF LARGE NATION-STATES, 1859–1871 535

63. Backgrounds: The Idea of the Nation-State 536 64. Cavour and the Italian War of 1859: The Unifi cation

of Italy 539

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Contents xi

65. The Founding of a German Empire and the Dual Monarchy of Austria-Hungary 544

66. Tsarist Russia: Social Change and the Limits of Political Reform 555

67. Nation-Building in the Wider Atlantic World: The United States and Canada 563

Chapter 14 EUROPEAN CIVILIZATION, 1871–1914: ECONOMY AND POLITICS 569

68. The Modern “Civilized World” 570 69. Basic Demography: The Increase of Europe’s Population 573 70. The World Economy of the Nineteenth Century 583 71. The Advance of Democracy: Third French Republic, United

Kingdom, German Empire 593

Chapter 15 EUROPEAN CIVILIZATION, 1871–1914: SOCIETY AND CULTURE 611

72. The Advance of Democracy: Socialism, Labor Unions, and Feminism 612

73. Science, Philosophy, the Arts, and Religion 620 74. The Waning of Classical Liberalism 636

Chapter 16 EUROPE’S WORLD SUPREMACY, 1871–1914 643

75. Imperialism: Its Nature and Causes 645 76. The Dissolution of the Ottoman Empire 653 77. The Partition of Africa 662 78. Imperialism in Asia: The Dutch, the British, and the Russians 671 79. Imperialism in Asia: China and Europe 678 80. The Russo-Japanese War and Its Consequences 685

Chapter 17 THE FIRST WORLD WAR 689

81. The International Anarchy 689 82. The Armed Stalemate 699 83. The Collapse of Russia and the Intervention

of the United States 709

84. The Collapse of the Austrian and German Empires 714 85. The Economic, Social, and Cultural Impact of the War 716 86. The Peace of Paris, 1919 724

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Contentsxii

Chapter 18 THE RUSSIAN REVOLUTION AND THE EMERGENCE OF THE SOVIET UNION 735

87. Backgrounds 737 88. The Revolution of 1905 744 89. The Revolution of 1917 749 90. The Union of Soviet Socialist Republics 758 91. Stalin: The Five-Year Plans and the Purges 765 92. The International Impact of Communism, 1919–1939 774

Chapter 19 DEMOCRACY, ANTI-IMPERIALISM, AND THE ECONOMIC CRISIS AFTER THE FIRST WORLD WAR 779

93. The Advance of Democracy after 1919 779 94. The German Republic and the Spirit of Locarno 784 95. Anti-Imperialist Movements in Asia 790 96. The Great Depression: Collapse of the World Economy 802

Chapter 20 DEMOCRACY AND DICTATORSHIP IN THE 1930S 811

97. Trials and Adjustments of Democracy in Britain and France 812 98. Italian Fascism 821 99. Totalitarianism: Germany’s Third Reich 827

Chapter 21 THE SECOND WORLD WAR 843

100. The Weakness of the Democracies: Again to War 844 101. The Years of Axis Triumph 853 102. The Western-Soviet Victory 861 103. The Foundations of the Peace 876

Chapter 22 THE COLD WAR AND RECONSTRUCTION AFTER THE SECOND WORLD WAR 883

104. The Cold War: The Opening Decade, 1945–1955 884 105. Western Europe: Economic Reconstruction 897 106. Western Europe: Political Reconstruction 901 107. Europe and the Global Economy 912 108. Communist Societies in the U.S.S.R.

and Eastern Europe 918

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Contents xiii

Chapter 23 DECOLONIZATION AND THE BREAKUP OF THE EUROPEAN EMPIRES 925

109. The Emergence of Independent Nations in South Asia and Southeast Asia 927

110. The African Revolution 936 111. Europe and the Modern Middle East 947

Chapter 24 COEXISTENCE, CONFRONTATION, AND THE NEW EUROPEAN ECONOMY 959

112. Confrontation and Détente, 1955–1975 960 113. Collapse and Recovery of the European and Global Economy:

The 1970s and 1980s 970

114. The Cold War Rekindled and Defused 981

Chapter 25 THE INTERNATIONAL REVOLT AGAINST SOVIET COMMUNISM 987

115. The Crisis in the Soviet Union 988 116. The Collapse of Communism in Central and Eastern

Europe 992

117. The Collapse of the Soviet Union 1000 118. After Communism 1005

Chapter 26 EUROPE AND THE CHANGING MODERN WORLD 1019

119. Western Europe after the Cold War 1020 120. Nation-States and Economies in the Age of Globalization 1024 121. Intellectual and Social Transitions in Modern Cultures 1036 122. Europe and International Confl icts in the Early Twenty-First

Century 1058

123. Social and Environmental Challenges in the Twenty-First Century 1067

Appendix RULERS AND REGIMES A1

Index I1

Suggestions for Further Reading Online at www.mhhe.com/palmerhistory11e

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xiv

The Parthenon 12

Ruins of the Roman Forum 14

Roman Emperor Caesar Augustus 15

St. Augustine 18

Hagia Sophia 22

Medieval Spanish Monastery 27

Medieval Peasant 31

Symbol of Florentine Wool Guild 35

The Meeting of St. Anthony and St. Paul by Sassetta 43

Thomas Aquinas by Fra Bartelemo 44

European Crusaders at Antioch 47

Religious Procession of Medieval Flagellants 54

Renaissance Italian Bankers 57

Renaissance Italian Wool Merchants 58

Procession of the Three Kings to Bethlehem by Benozzo Gozzoli 59

Lorenzo de’ Medici Examining a Model of His Villa 60

Portrait of a Condottiere by Giovanni Bellini 62

Detail from Zacharias in the Temple by Domenico Ghirlandaio 64

Portrait of a Family by Lavinia Fontana 66

Florentine Council Debating on War with Pisa by Giorgio Vasari 68

Niccoló Machiavelli 69

Erasmus of Rotterdam by Hans Holbein, the Younger 73

Interrogation of the Jews 78

Martin Luther and His Wife Catherine by Lucas Cranach, the Elder 81

Siege of Munster, Germany, in 1534 83

John Calvin 87

Queen Elizabeth I 90

Pierre de Moucheron and Family 92

St. Ignatius Loyola by Peter Paul Rubens 96

Detail from An Episode in the Conquest of America by Jan Mostaert 103

European Meeting with an African Council in Guinea 106

Slaves Processing Diamonds in Brazil 106

The Aztec Language in the Latin Alphabet 109

The Silver Mines at Potosí 110

Jakob Fugger by Albrecht Dürer 111

Study of Two Black Heads by Rembrandt van Rijn 112

The Four Estates of Society: Work by Jean Bourdichon 114

L i s t o f C h a p t e r I l l u s t r a t i o n s

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List of Chapter Illustrations xv

The Dutch East India Company Headquarters 117

Old Woman Cooking Eggs by Diego Valázquez 120

Monk Teaching Students at the University of Salamanca 122

King Philip II of Spain by Titian 126

The Spanish Armada 130

St. Bartholomew’s Day Massacre by François Dubois 136

“The Hanging Tree” [from] The Great Miseries of War by Jacques Callot 141

Masters of the Cloth Guild by Rembrandt Van Rijn 152

Portrait of the Artist with Isabelle Brandt by Peter Paul Rubens 153

Girl Reading a Letter at an Open Window by Jan Vermeer 154

The Geographer by Jan Vermeer 156

William Shakespeare 159

The Execution of King Charles I 164

Woman Speaking at a Quaker Meeting 165

Molière Performing in “The School for Wives” by François Delpech 175

Inspiration of the Epic Poet by Nicolas Poussin 177

Louis XIV by Hyacinthe Rigaud 180

The Building of Versailles by Adam François van der Mueleh 182

View of the Château of Versailles by Pierre Denis Martin 182

Persecution of the Huguenots 186

The Battle of Blenheim 190

Peasant Family in a Room by Louis Le Nain 191

Count Stanislas Potocki by Jacques-Louis David 201

Suleiman the Magnifi cent 204

Turkish Siege of Vienna in 1683 208

Frederick William, the Great Elector 213

Prussian Army Uniforms 219

Stephen Razin as Painted by Surikov 223

Peter the Great 225

The Construction of St. Petersburg 228

Execution for Witchcraft in the Seventeenth Century 236

René Descartes by Frans Hals 239

A Scholar Holding a Thesis on Botany by Willem Moreelse 241

The Copernican Conception of the Solar System 243

Galileo and His Telescope 244

Founding of the Academy of Sciences and the Observatory in 1666 by Henri Testelin 249

Isaac Newton 250

Ambassadors from Siam at Versailles 253

Seventeenth-Century Library 256

Baruch Spinoza by Samuel Van Hoogstraten 260

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List of Chapter Illustrationsxvi

John Locke by John Greenhill 265

Gin Lane by William Hogarth 271

Café Frascati by Philibert-Louis Debucourt 271

A Carnival on the Feast Day of Saint George by Pieter Bruegel, the Younger 274

Women at Work in an Irish Cottage 276

Enslaved Workers on a Plantation in Barbados 282

The Duet by Arthur Devis 284

John Law, Wind Monopolist 289

M. Bachelier, Director of the Lyons Farms by Jean-Baptiste Oudry 292

Frederick the Great of Prussia as a Young Man 296

Maria Theresa and Her Family by Martin van Meytens 298

Schönbrunn Palace 300

The Battle of Quebec 304

A British Army Offi cer’s Wife in India 306

Reading at the Salon of Mme. de Geoffrin by Anicet-Charles-Gabriel Lemonnier 315

Voltaire by Maurice-Quentin de La Tour 316

Jean-Jacques Rousseau by Allan Ramsay 321

The Parlement of Paris 330

Catherine the Great by Alexander Roslin 336

Emelian Pugachev in an Iron Cage 337

The Hon. Mrs. Graham by Thomas Gainsborough 347

Edmund Burke 349

Mrs. Isaac Smith by John Singleton Copley 354

Thomas Paine’s Common Sense 357

Declaration of Independence by John Trumbull 360

Eighteenth-Century French Peasants Working in Fields 365

Meeting of the French Estates General 372

The Tennis Court Oath by Jacques-Louis David 374

The Capture of the Bastille 376

Olympe de Gouges 377

A Woman of the Revolution by Jacques-Louis David 378

Frenchmen Creating a New Constitution 380

French Paper Money, the “Assignats” 382

The Festival of the Federation, 1790 384

Parisians Pulling Down a Statue of Louis XIV 392

The Battle of Fleurus 397

The Execution of Robespierre 398

Napoleon Crossing the Alps by Jacques-Louis David 407

Toussaint L’Ouverture 413

Napoleon and Alexander I Meeting on the Niemen River 417

The Third of May 1808 by Francisco de Goya 419

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List of Chapter Illustrations xvii

Germaine de Staël by François Gérard 426

The Arch of Triumph in Paris 429

The Madeleine Church in Paris 430

Blowing Up the Corsican Bottle Conjurer 433

The French Army’s Retreat from Russia 440

The Congress of Vienna 443

English Cotton Mill 453

Early Train in Nineteenth-Century England 456

The British Houses of Parliament 464

Mary Wollstonecraft 467

Saint-Simonian Feminist by Malreuve 469

Caricature of George Sand by Alcide Lorentz 471

Coronation of Charles X in Reims 477

German Students at a Festival in 1817 479

The “Peterloo Massacre” by Cruikshank 480

Simón Bolívar 485

Liberty Leading the People by Eugène Delacroix 490

Big Investments by Honoré Daumier 497

The London Police 500

Parisian Crowd in the Revolution of 1848 504

Crowds in the Streets of Vienna in 1848 510

Joseph Mazzini 515

The Frankfurt Assembly in 1848 519

A Burial at Ornans by Gustave Courbet 524

Workers in Manchester during the 1840s 525

Karl Marx 528

Construction Workers and the Rebuilding of Paris 533

Florence Nightingale at a Military Hospital in Crimea 539

Giuseppe Garibaldi 544

Otto von Bismarck 547

Battle of Sedan in 1870 551

Proclamation of the German Empire at Versailles by Anton von Werner 553

The Arrival of the Bride by Miklos Barabas 555

Russian Peasants in the Late Nineteenth Century 561

Emancipated Ex-Slaves in the American South during the Civil War 564

Train in the Snow by Claude Monet 572

The Gleaners by Jean-François Millet 577

Victorian-Era English Family 578

Immigrant Family Arriving in New York 582

Steel Factory in Late Nineteenth-Century Britain 585

Classic Landscape by Charles Sheeler 587

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List of Chapter Illustrationsxviii

Workers Transporting Tea in India 592

The Bon Marché Department Store in Paris 595

Supporters of the Paris Commune in 1871 597

Captain Alfred Dreyfus in the 1890s 598

Sunday Afternoon on the Island of La Grande Jatte by Georges Seurat 603

British Coal Miners in the Early Twentieth Century 604

Cartoon Portrayal of Kaiser William II’s Removal of Bismarck by John Tenniel 608

Illustration of British Miners Voting to Strike 614

Emmeline Pankhurst 619

Women Demanding Equal Voting Rights in Britain 619

Charles Darwin 621

Sigmund Freud 625

Albert Einstein 626

Ia Orana Maria by Paul Gauguin 628

Cathedral at Rouen by Claude Monet 629

Young Girl Boating by Berthe Morisot 630

The Boating Party by Mary Cassatt 631

Self-Portrait with Beret by Paul Cezanne 632

Les Demoiselles d’Avignon by Pablo Picasso 633

Theodor Herzl 636

John Stuart Mill 637

Coal Miners in France 641

Railroad Locomotive Arriving in Central India 647

British Missionary and Africans Making Bread 649

British Offi cials with Indian Servants in India 652

Ottoman Sultan Abdul Hamid II 657

British Ship in the Suez Canal 660

Workers in the Congo Harvesting Rubber for Export 665

Workers Building a Gold Mine in Southern Africa 668

British Soldiers in South Africa during the Boer War 671

The Sepoy Rebellion in India 674

Jawaharlal Nehru 675

The Boxer Uprising in China 684

Japanese Troops at Battle of Mukden in Russo-Japanese War of 1905 686

Kaiser William II in Morocco in 1905 694

Archduke Francis Ferdinand of Austria with Catholic Leaders in Sarajevo 697

German Soldiers at the Berlin Railway Station in 1914 701

French Departure Trench on the Western Front 702

Soldiers on the Battlefi eld at Passchendaele in 1917 703

British Front in Flanders in 1917 704

T. E. Lawrence with Prince Faisal at Versailles 707

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American Soldiers in France in 1917 714

German Women Working in an Armaments Factory during the First World War 718

Austrian and French Wartime Propaganda Posters 720

Wilfred Owen 721

Leaders of the Allied Powers at the Versailles Peace Conference 729

Russian Peasants Harvesting Hay 740

Lenin Addressing a Crowd 743

Protest March in St. Petersburg in 1905 746

Tsar Nicholas II and His Family 750

Rasputin 750

Demonstration in St. Petersburg in 1917 752

Leon Trotsky 756

Red Army Artillery Battalion 757

Soviet Political Poster 759

Farmers in the Soviet Union Using New Tractors 768

Soviet Automobile Factory with Portrait of Stalin 772

Soviet Propaganda Poster of Stalin by Konstantin Ivanov 773

Lenin at Meeting of Third International in 1920 776

Poster Urging American Women to Use Their New Right to Vote 781

Outdoor Cafe and Park in Vienna 783

Crowd Burning Spartacist Publications in Berlin 786

German Merchants Calculating Daily Sales 789

Greek Muslim Refugees in Turkey in 1923 794

Mustapha Kemal Atatürk Dancing at His Daughter’s Wedding 796

Mohandas Gandhi and Other Indian Nationalists at a Protest March 799

Mao Zedong and Zhou Enlai on the “Long March” 802

Crowd at a London Cinema 804

British “Hunger March” in 1935 807

Autour d’Elle by Marc Chagall 809

British Marchers in General Strike of 1926 in London 813

British Army Troops in Dublin 817

French Workers at a Subway Construction Site 818

French Premier Léon Blum Addressing Supporters of the Popular Front 819

Fascists in “March on Rome” in October 1922 823

Benito Mussolini Speaking at an Italian Fascist Rally 824

Italian Woman at a Fascist Rally 826

Hitler with Supporters at the Time of the “Beer Hall Putsch ” 828

Nazi Military Parade in Nuremburg 830

Damage to Jewish Shops after Kristallnacht in Berlin 832

Nazi Image of the “New People” 838

Saluting Adolf Hitler at a Nazi Rally in Nuremberg 839

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List of Chapter Illustrationsxx

Hitler Entering Vienna in 1938 after the Anschluss 846

Anti-Fascist Rally in Spain 848

Guernica by Pablo Picasso 849

Sudetens Welcoming Arrival of German Troops in 1938 851

German Troops Entering a Polish Village in 1939 854

German Soldiers Marching through the Arc de Triomphe in Paris 857

Russian Casualties on Eastern Front in Early 1942 860

British Women in the Auxiliary Territorial Service 863

Urban Desolation during the Battle of Stalingrad 865

Survivors Liberated from the Concentration Camp at Buchenwald 871

A Nazi Concentration Camp in 1945 874

Hiroshima, Devastation after the Atomic Bomb 875

Roosevelt, Churchill, and Stalin at Yalta 879

The Survivor by George Grosz 880

Filipino Representative Pedro Lopez Addressing the United Nations 886

Churchill Giving a Speech Describing the New Iron Curtain across Eastern

Europe 888

The Berlin Airlift 891

Children Near a Tank during the Korean War 896

Women at Work in a British Television Factory 900

French Kindergarten in 1950 904

Students and Police Clash in Paris in May 1968 907

Charles de Gaulle and Konrad Adenauer 910

High-Speed Train in Japan 913

The London Stock Exchange 917

Nikita Khrushchev with President Eisenhower and Vice President Nixon 920

Protesters in Budapest Burn Pictures of Joseph Stalin in 1956 924

Presentation of Flag on India Independence Day 927

Refugees Fleeing from West Pakistan in 1947 930

British High Commissioner MacGillivray leaving Kuala Lumpur in 1957 932

Independence Day Parade in Kuala Lumpur 932

Indonesian President Sukarno at Bandung in 1955 934

French Soldiers after the Battle of Dien Bien Phu in 1954 935

French Soldiers in the Streets of Oran, Algeria 940

Kwame Nkrumah of Ghana 941

Refugees from Uganda Arriving in London in 1972 943

David Ben-Gurion, the First Prime Minister of Israel 949

Palestinians in a Refugee Camp in 1956 950

British Soldiers in Suez in 1956 952

Iranian Women Wielding Guns after the Iranian Revolution 956

Construction of the Berlin Wall 964

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Protest against the Vietnam War in Britain 966

Citizens of Prague Destroy a Soviet Tank 968

Protest by French Newspaper Workers 971

Ronald Reagan and Margaret Thatcher 973

French Workers Protesting Conditions at an Auto Factory 976

Helmut Kohl in Strasbourg 978

French Voter at the Time of the Referendum on Maastricht Treaty 980

German Protest against New Missile Deployments 985

Mikhail Gorbachev Meets with Potato Farmers Near Moscow 991

Supporters of the Solidarity Movement in Warsaw 995

Alexander Dubcek, Vaclav Havel, and Marta Kubisova 997

Destruction of the Berlin Wall in November 1989 998

Boris Yeltsin Waves to Supporters outside the Parliament Building in Moscow 1004

People Forced to Flee Violence in Chechen City of Grozny 1009

Muslims Mourning the Victims of “Ethnic Cleansing” in Sarajevo Cemetery 1014

People in Belgrade Demand the Resignation of President Slobodan Milosevic 1017

Multicultural School in Contemporary London 1022

Ségolène Royal and Angela Merkel 1026

Dutch Soccer Team at Euro Cup Competition in 2008 1032

President of European Commission Addressing European Parliament in Brussels 1033

Students at University Computer Center Working in “Virtual Library” 1035

French and Russian Astronauts 1041

Jean-Paul Sartre 1042

Fabulous Race-Track of Death by Matta 1045

Family Life by Jean Dubuffet 1046

Mother and Child by Henry Moore 1047

Pope John Paul II in Poland 1050

Mosque in Duisburg, Germany 1053

Mick Jagger and Keith Richards of the Rolling Stones in Los Angeles 1054

Simone de Beauvoir 1056

Supporters of Same-Sex Marriage in Spain 1057

Wheel Man by Ernest Trova 1061

Barack Obama in Prague 1063

World Trade Center Towers after Crash of Second Aircraft 1064

German Soldiers in Afghanistan 1068

British Troops in Iraq 1069

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xxii

Chronologies Notable Events, 500 B.C.E.–1300 C.E. 39

Notable Events, 1309–1555 84

Notable Events, 1492–1648 131

Notable Events, 1642–1713 172

Notable Events, 1640–1740 221

Notable Events, 1543–1697 258

Notable Events, 1619–1763 301

Notable Events, 1733–1795 350

Notable Events, 1789–1804 403

Notable Events, 1799–1815 436

Notable Events, 1780–1869 494

Notable Events, 1848–1857 521

Notable Events, 1854–1871 563

Notable Events, 1850–1914 605

Notable Events, 1859–1920 639

Notable Events, 1850–1906 682

Notable Events, 1879–1920 725

Notable Events, 1894–1937 770

Notable Events, 1911–1935 803

Notable Events, 1922–1938 837

Notable Events, 1935–1945 876

Notable Events, 1945–1962 919

Notable Events, 1946–1979 948

Notable Events, 1957–1995 979

Notable Events, 1980–2012 1011

Notable Events, 1949–2011 1060

Historical Interpretations and Debates Europe and the Americas 107

The Meaning of the English Revolution 169

Continuity and Discontinuity in the Scientifi c Revolution 246

Social Institutions and Culture in the Age of Enlightenment 322

The Political and Social Signifi cance of the French Revolution 399

Women and the Industrial Revolution 459

The Roots of Modern Nationalism 540

The Rationales and Paradoxes of Modern European Imperialism 654

L i s t o f C h r o n o l o g i e s ,

H i s t o r i c a l I n t e r p r e t a t i o n s a n d

D e b a t e s , M a p s , C h a r t s , a n d T a b l e s

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List of Chronologies, Historical Interpretations and Debates, Maps, Charts, and Tables xxiii

Cultural Responses to the First World War 722

Women in Fascist Italy and Nazi Germany 834

The Nature and Legacy of the Cold War 982

Maps, Charts, and Tables Europe: Physical 4–5

The Mediterranean World about 400, 800, and 1250 C.E. 25

Crusading Activity, 1100–1259 45

Estimated Population of Europe, 1200–1550 51

Europe, 1526 79

State Religions in Europe about 1560 89

European Discoveries, 1450–1600 101

The Low Countries, 1648 129

Europe, 1648 144–145

The Expansion of France, 1661–1713 149

England in the Seventeenth Century 170

France from the Last Years of Louis XIV to the Revolution of 1789 184

The Atlantic World after the Peace of Utrecht, 1713 192

Central and Eastern Europe, 1660–1795 199

Aging Empires and New Powers 200

The Growth of the Austrian Monarchy, 1521–1772 209

The Growth of Prussia, 1415–1918 214–215

The Growth of Russia in the West 230–231

The Growth of Geographical Knowledge 255

The World in 1763 307

Europe, 1740 327

Poland since the Eighteenth Century 342

The French Republic and Its Satellites, 1798–1799 404

Napoleonic Europe, 1810 423

Napoleonic Germany 425

Europe, 1815 446

Britain before and after the Industrial Revolution 457

The Industrial Revolution in Britain (as Shown by Sources of Income) 462

Languages of Europe 473

European Revolutions, 1848 512

Nation-Building, 1859–1867 543

The German Question, 1815–1871 549

Europe, 1871 558–559

Estimated Population of the World by Continental Areas 574

Emigration from Europe, 1850–1940 579

Immigration into Various Countries, 1850–1940 580

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List of Chronologies, Historical Interpretations and Debates, Maps, Charts, and Tablesxxiv

Migration from Europe, 1850–1940 581

Export of European Capital to 1914 590

The Dissolution of the Ottoman Empire, 1699–1914 661

Precolonial Africa: Sites and Peoples 667

Africa, 1914 670

Imperialism in Asia, 1840–1914 676–677

“The British Lake,” 1918 679

Northeast China and Adjoining Regions in the Era of Imperialism 683

Anglo-German Industrial Competition, 1898 and 1913 693

The Balkans, 1878 and 1914 698

The First World War 700

Europe, 1923 730–731

The Union of Soviet Socialist Republics, 1922–1991 762–763

Europe, 1942 864

The Second World War 868–869

The Holocaust 870

Deportation and Settlement, 1939–1950 892–893

Germany and Its Borders, 1919–1990 909

The Indian Subcontinent, 2000 931

Contemporary Africa 938

The Modern Arab World 946

Israel and Adjoining Regions after the Era of the British Mandate 954–955

The World about 1970 962–963

Vietnam and Its Neighbors after the Era of French Colonialism, Showing Boundaries

in 1970 967

Russian Federation in 2000 1008

Nationalities in Central and Eastern Europe at the End of the Twentieth Century 1013

The Global Population Explosion 1070

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xxv

Dramatic events in the contemporary world—wars, revolutions, political upheavals, ter- rorist attacks, catastrophic natural disasters, economic crises, and the endless stream of

daily news—often obscure the long-developing historical processes that have created the

societies in which we live and the current problems with which we have to cope. The mass

media pay little attention to the broader historical patterns and contexts that shape the

deeper meaning of swiftly moving public events and private lives. This new edition of this

book, which has been retitled A History of Europe in the Modern World, may therefore be seen as the newest version of an ongoing search for historical perspectives on the complex,

often bewildering, events of our own era. The book’s new title, which adds the words

“Europe in” to the concise phrase that has entitled every previous edition, acknowledges

the fact that even a long book cannot adequately describe historical events in the entire

“modern world.” At the same time, however, this slight change in a familiar title refl ects

other revisions in a new edition that focuses more specifi cally on the history of Europe,

while also emphasizing that modern European history has always evolved through interac-

tions and exchanges with the wider world.

It is impossible to understand European history without placing it “in the modern

world, ” just as it is impossible to understand the modern world without knowing the his- tory of Europe. This book thus carries the guiding assumption that events and ideas in

modern European societies have often infl uenced people in every part of the world, but

that Europeans have also been constantly infl uenced by their encounters with other peoples

and cultures. More generally, the themes of this book build on the presupposition that con-

temporary events and confl icts are deeply connected to the diverse cultures, institutions,

social systems, economic exchanges, power struggles, empires, and ideas of earlier eras in

human history. Nobody can truly understand present times, in short, without studying the

past; and in modern times the history of Europe has often entered (for better or for worse)

into the history of almost the whole world.

The multiple levels of human history and cross-cultural exchanges have created

modern societies that both resemble and differ from the “modernity” that has evolved in

Europe since about the fi fteenth century. This book thus describes the main features of this

dynamic modern history by examining specifi c nations and landmark events, such as great

revolutions, economic transitions, and changing cultural beliefs; but it also emphasizes

broad historical and social trends that have developed beneath the most prominent events,

gradually creating what we now call “the modern world.” Although the following narra-

tive explores the rise of nation-states and the confl icts that have reshaped modern societies

over the last several centuries, it links such public events to the wider historical infl uence

of the global economy, the development of science, technology, and new forms of knowl-

edge, the rise of industry, the signifi cance of religious and philosophical beliefs, the origin

and diffusion of new political ideas, the changing mores of family and social life, the

evolving views of human rights, and the complex relations between European cultures and

other cultures around the world.

The term modern, as it is used in this book, refers to a phase of human history that began about fi ve or six centuries ago and steadily transformed both the material conditions

P r e f a c e

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Prefacexxvi

of human societies and the meaning of individual identities or selfhood. “Modern” ways of

life have developed in diverse historical contexts, and they are now evolving more rapidly

and in more places than ever before. This book affi rms that every culture and historical era

have made important contributions to the collective history of human beings, but it focuses

primarily on developments in Europe, even as it traces the growing European involve-

ments with other peoples, economies, and political systems far beyond the relatively small

continent of Europe itself. The narrative stresses the infl uence of European societies on the

emergence of “modern” institutions and social practices, yet it also notes the worldwide

exchanges that have contributed to the increasingly global culture of the contemporary

era. Europeans were never the only infl uential “actors” in the global creation of moder-

nity, but they were often present wherever the transitions to modernity were taking place.

These historical transitions generated violence and oppression and political confl icts as

well as social, cultural, and economic progress; and it is the combined effects of these

modern developments on all human lives (and the natural environment) that provide the

essential rationale for historical studies and for this new edition of A History of Europe in the Modern World.

ORGANIZATION OF THE BOOK: CHANGES AND CONTINUITIES

As in the past, the book is organized in chapters that carry the narrative across specifi c

chronological eras, moving steadily toward the present. Yet the clearly defi ned and num-

bered sections within each chapter often deal with themes, events, or issues that do not

develop in simple chronological order. Each chapter focuses on a specifi c time frame

but also on themes and problems of continuing historical importance. The chronological

organization gives readers a broad historical framework and provides opportunities for

further analysis and discussion of specifi c historical themes or problems— discussions

that can draw, for example, on the Suggestions for Further Reading and other materials

that can be found on the companion Online Learning Center Web site ( www.mhhe.com/

palmerhistory11e ), which includes an Interactive Glossary.

Although the history of political systems, state power, revolutions, and international

confl icts remains important, some details of national political history have been reduced

in this new edition, and whole sections on China, Japan, Africa, and the Americas have

been removed. These changes provide a sharper analytical focus on Europe, shorten the

text, and align the book more closely with contemporary survey courses. This book goes

beyond a “textbook summary” of information by providing analytical themes to engage

both nonacademic readers and students who seek broad perspectives on more specifi c

kinds of historical scholarship. The narrative therefore explains major events and also

draws on the work of recent social, cultural, and intellectual historians who have con-

tributed important new insights to modern historical studies. There are discussions of the

evolving roles of women in various historical contexts; descriptions of cultural movements

and intellectual debates from the early modern to the contemporary period; and new analy-

sis of the political, economic, and cultural interactions that took place in European empires

and in the anticolonial movements that ultimately brought about the dissolution of imperial

systems. Chapters on the breakup of European empires, however, have been shortened and

consolidated to emphasize the interactions between Europeans and other peoples around

the world.

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Preface xxvii

Another important new feature in this edition appears in a series of brief excerpts from

the writings of historians who have helped to shape the modern interpretations of notable

historical events. Historical knowledge is never simply fi xed or fi nal, because historians

constantly fi nd new sources to analyze; or they develop new perspectives to explain long-

known persons and confl icts; or they draw new comparisons between events and problems

in different cultures and historical eras. This new edition thus includes an introduction to

exemplary “Historical Interpretations and Debates,” thereby giving readers concise sum-

maries and comparisons of diverse perspectives on past cultures and events. The excerpts

that express key themes in these debates come from a wide range of works, including

both “classic” historical studies and recent reinterpretations. The purpose of the excerpts

is to introduce readers to infl uential debates about key issues and to show how historians

develop or revise their analytical themes. Well-informed historical thinking requires both

knowledge about past events and the critical evaluation of divergent historical interpreta-

tions. The themes of the various debates therefore provide an additional “entry” into the

multiple spheres of historical thought and into the constant expansion and revision of his-

torical knowledge.

This book describes major events such as the religious wars of earlier centuries, the

Scientifi c Revolution, the French and Russian Revolutions, the Industrial Revolution, the

development of European imperialism, the twentieth-century world wars and globaliz-

ing economy, the spread of democracy and the challenges it has faced, the collapse of

European-dominated empires, the continuing search for an international order, and the

emergence of the European Union. All of these broad developments are analyzed with

references to specifi c examples or people, and there are transnational comparisons in the

discussion of every historical era.

The visual components have been revised to include new images and illustrations,

especially in the later chapters on contemporary European history. Like other kinds of

sources, the images and artwork from past cultures provide important historical informa-

tion. Knowing how to “read” and critically evaluate illustrations, paintings, and photo-

graphs is essential for analytical thought and for cross-cultural comparisons. The brief

captions that accompany the illustrations thus connect the visual themes to the book’s

historical narrative and interpretations. Other key features of the new edition include new,

easier-to-read maps, which are presented in new colors. The maps and charts show the

changing boundaries, populations, and economies of different regions or nations as they

have changed across the centuries; and each chapter includes a chronological timeline that

summarizes the most notable events. The revised entries in the comprehensive Sugges-

tions for Further Reading, long a valued feature of this book, provide up-to-date listings of

useful Web sites as well as the titles of signifi cant new scholarly publications on specifi c

national histories and the themes of transnational historical research. For this edition, the

Suggestions for Further Reading can be found on the Online Learning Center at www. mhhe.com/palmerhistory11e.

The changes in A History of Europe in the Modern World have been introduced to make this new edition more accessible and to tighten its analytical focus, but not to weaken

the prose style, content, or analytical qualities that have long appealed to both teachers

and students of European history. Readers will therefore fi nd that the book reaffi rms a

strong belief in the value of historical knowledge and historical perspectives for anyone

who wishes to live a well-informed and engaged life in the changing modern world. It

achieves its purpose whenever it gives readers new insights into the meanings of European

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Prefacexxviii

or modern history and whenever it helps readers gain new perspectives on their own lives,

cultures, and social experiences.

SUPPLEMENTS FOR THE INSTRUCTOR

Instructor’s Manual/Test Bank The fi rst half of this unique manual offers a chapter- by-chapter guide to some of the best documentaries, educational and feature fi lms, videos,

and audio recordings to enhance classroom discussion. Brief overviews help instructors

select the fi lms best suited to each course topic. The manual also provides instructors with

chapter objectives and points for discussion for each chapter, followed by a test bank con-

taining multiple-choice, essay, and identifi cation test questions.

Instructor Online Learning Center Web Site ( www.mhhe.com/palmerhistory11e ) At the home page for this text-specifi c Web site, instructors will fi nd a downloadable ver-

sion of the Instructor’s Manual. Instructors can also create an interactive course syllabus

using McGraw-Hill’s PageOut site. Suggestions for Further Reading are also included in

the Online Learning Center for this edition. PageOut ( www.mhhe.com/pageout ) On the PageOut Web site instructors can cre-

ate their own course Web sites. PageOut requires no prior knowledge of HTML, no long

hours of coding, and no design skills on the instructor’s part. Instructors need simply to

plug the course information into a template and click on one of the 16 designs. The process

takes little time and creates a professionally designed Web site. Powerful features include

an interactive course syllabus that lets instructors post content and links, an online grade-

book, lecture notes, bookmarks, and a discussion board where instructors and students can

discuss course-related topics.

Videos A wide range of videos on classic and contemporary topics in history is available through the Films for the Humanities and Sciences collection. Instructors can

illustrate and enhance lectures by selecting from a series of videos correlated to the course.

Contact your local McGraw-Hill sales representative for further information.

SUPPLEMENTS FOR THE STUDENT

Student Online Learning Center Web Site ( www.mhhe.com/palmerhistory11e ) At this text-specifi c Web site, students can link to an Interactive Glossary, an important learning

tool for students that complements the terms and topics highlighted in the margins of the

textbook. A number of other resources are also available, including Suggestions for Fur-

ther Reading and useful Web sites.

PowerWeb PowerWeb for World History gives students password-protected, course- specifi c articles with assessments from current research journals and popular press articles,

refereed and selected by World History instructors, and especially useful for materials that

go beyond the scope of this book.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

It is a pleasure to acknowledge the contributions and assistance of the many people who

have worked on the production of this book. Special appreciation goes to the editors

and staff of McGraw-Hill, Inc., which has published this book since its seventh edi-

tion. Publishing expertise and essential support at McGraw-Hill have been provided by

numerous talented people, including Penina Braffman, Erin Melloy, Lisa Brufl odt, Lisa

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Preface xxix

Pinto, Alexandra Schultz, Adina Lonn, and Matthew Busbridge. Erin Guendelsberger

and Kala Ramachandran managed editorial details with effi ciency and wide-ranging

skills; and Mickey Cox brought valuable insights to each phase of the planning for this

revised edition. David Tietz helped to collect new illustrations, and Rachel Olsen and

Diana Chase assisted in organizing manuscript materials. Equally important, Maximil-

ian Owre, an historian of modern Europe and the associate director of the Program in

the Humanities and Human Values at the University of North Carolina, Chapel Hill,

contributed his knowledge and careful research to the updated Suggestions for Further

Reading and the summaries of useful Web sites, which appear for this edition in the

Online Learning Center at www.mhhe.com/palmerhistory11e. This new edition has also benefi ted from the expert advice of reviewers who offered

ideas for revisions and for new features to improve the book. Insightful comments came

from Marc Baer, Hope College; Catherine Graney, Bergen Community College; Mary

R. O’Neil, University of Washington; David J. Proctor, Tufts University; Leonard N.

Rosenband, Utah State University; Barbara Syrrakos, The City College, City University

of New York; and Brian Weiser, Metropolitan State University of Denver. None of these

individuals are responsible for any of the book’s shortcomings, but all have added to its

strengths. Other colleagues, teachers, and family members provided valuable assistance

and advice in numerous discussions about the book; and a particular “thank you” goes to

Gwynne Pomeroy for her exceptional role in facilitating the work on every aspect of this

new edition.

Finally, I deeply regret that the revisions for the latest edition of this book have

been developed without the insights of my two deceased colleagues and co-authors,

R. R. Palmer and Joel Colton. The distinguished historical works of both Professor Palmer

(who died in 2002) and Professor Colton (who died in 2011) have long attracted wide

attention on both sides of the Atlantic, partly because of their remarkable knowledge of

modern events and partly because of their exceptional ability to write clear, analytical

prose about the diverse historical issues that they examined. Their long collaboration on

this narrative, which until this edition was always entitled A History of the Modern World, became an outstanding example of how intellectual partnerships can enhance historical

knowledge, expand historical perspectives, and connect the history of specifi c confl icts or

people with the broadest historical developments of modern times. In revising this new edi-

tion of a book that has often been known as simply Palmer-Colton, I have sought always to

build on the high quality of their previous work, even as I changed the structure or content

of various chapters and also introduced new perspectives, sources, and images. I learned

from each of these historians about the nature of intellectual work, academic friendships,

and human communities; and my many conversations with Joel Colton in recent years

deeply enriched my personal life as well as my understanding of the past. This book thus

continues to convey the far-reaching intellect and insights of Professors Palmer and Colton

in a narrative that has been updated to include changing themes in modern historical schol-

arship and changing perspectives on modern European history.

Lloyd Kramer

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1

History is  the experience of human beings in time, but that experience takes place also in geographic space. Geography describes and maps the earth, but geographers also study the

cultural practices that shape human interactions with the environments in which they live.

The universe, of which our planet earth and our solar system form but a small part,

is now thought to be at least 12 billion years old. Most scientists believe the earth is about

4.6 billion years old. Yet the entire history (and prehistory) of humankind goes back only

3.5 to 5 million years, or perhaps only 2 million years, depending on how humans are

defi ned. What we call history—the recorded cultures and actions of human beings—began

with the invention of early forms of writing only about 5,500 years ago.

Oceans and continents have moved about over time, changing in size, shape, and loca-

tion. The continents as we know them took on their distinctive forms less than 100 million

years ago. Dinosaurs, which became extinct some 60 million years before the fi rst humans

even emerged, could walk from North America to Europe (as we now call

these continents) on solid land in a warm climate. It is only a few thousand

years since the end of the most recent glacial age. That Ice Age, which

began about 2 million years ago and reached its coldest point only 20,000

years ago, was caused by a slight shift in the earth’s orbit around the sun. Water froze into

ice 1–2 inches thick and covered the northern parts of the planet (in North America as far

south as present-day Chicago and in Europe across large parts of the British Isles and the

nearby mainland). The melting of this ice produced the coastlines, offshore islands, inland

seas, straits, bays, and harbors that we know today, as well as some of the large river sys-

tems and lakes. The process of change in the earth’s surface continues. Niagara Falls, on

the border between the United States and Canada, has been receding because the ongoing

cascade of water erodes the underlying rock. The ocean’s tides and human construction

erode our shorelines as well, and most scientists believe current patterns of global warm-

ing will gradually change the oceans and coasts in much of the world.

Oceans presently cover more than two-thirds of the earth’s surface, and many

large land areas in the remaining third are poorly suited for habitation by human beings or

most other animal and plant organisms. One-tenth of the land remains under ice, as in

Antarctica and Greenland; much is tundra; much is desert, as in the Sahara; and much land

lies along the windswept ridges of high mountains. Like the oceans, these regions have

been important in human history, often acting as barriers to movement and settlement.

Human history has therefore evolved in relatively small, scattered sections of the earth’s

total surface.

Researchers have found persuasive material evidence to show that

human beings originated in Africa. Humans belonging to the species Homo erectus, the Latin term used by anthropologists and others to denote the upright, walking predecessors of modern humans, seem to have migrated

from Africa about 1.8 million years ago, perhaps because of environmental pressures or

perhaps because of simple curiosity. Our own species Homo sapiens, the Latin term con- noting increased cognitive and judgmental abilities, emerged about 150,000 years ago.

When humans went beyond merely utilitarian accomplishments and demonstrated aesthetic

and artistic interests as well as advanced toolmaking (about 35,000 years ago), we refer to

Ice Age

Origins of human

beings

G e o g r a p h y a n d H i s t o r y

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Geography and History2

them as the subspecies Homo sapiens sapiens. They were the remaining survivors of a very complex human family tree.

The great Ice Age lowered the seas by hundreds of feet and froze huge quantities of

water. The English Channel became dry. Land bridges opened up between Siberia and

North America over what we now call the Bering Strait. Hunters seeking game walked

from one continent to the other. When the glaciers melted, forests sprang up, and many of

the open areas in which humans had hunted disappeared, providing added motivation for

movement.

Our human ancestors spread eventually to every continent except Antarctica. In doing

so, human groups became isolated from each other for millennia, separated by oceans,

deserts, or mountains. Wherever they wandered, they evolved slightly over time, develop-

ing superfi cial physical differences that modern cultures have defi ned as the

characteristics of various racial groups. But “race” is a cultural idea rather

than a mark of biologically signifi cant differences. All human beings

belong to the Homo sapiens species, all derive from the same biological ancestry, and all are mutually fertile. Only a very few human genes are

responsible for physical differences such as skin pigmentation, in comparison to the vast

number of genes that are shared by all members of the human species.

The basic anatomy and genetic makeup of modern humans has not

changed over the last 100,000 years. Geographic separation accounts for

the emergence over shorter time periods of distinctive cultures, which can

be seen, for example, in the different historical and cultural development

of the pre-Columbian Americas, Africa, China, India, the Middle East, and

Europe. On a still smaller time scale, geographic separation also explains differences in

languages and dialects.

Geographic distances and diversity of climate have also produced differences in fl ora

and fauna, and hence in the plants and animals upon which humans depend. Wheat became

the most common cereal in the Middle East and Europe, millet and rice in East Asia, sor-

ghum in tropical Africa, maize in pre-Columbian America. The horse, fi rst domesticated in

north-central Asia about 4,500 years ago, was for centuries a mainstay of Europe and Asia

for muscle power, transportation, and fi ghting. The somewhat less versatile camel was

adopted later and more slowly in the Middle East, and the Americans long had no beasts

of burden except the llama. Such differences did not begin to diminish until early modern

travelers crossed the oceans, taking plants and animals with them and bringing others back

to environments where they had never lived before.

Although much remains obscure about the origins of life, and new discoveries and

calculations are always displacing older hypotheses, paleontologists studying plant and

animal fossils (including human ones) have used techniques such as radiocarbon dating

to transform our knowledge of the earth and of the earliest human beings. In geography,

aerial and satellite photography and computer technology have enabled us to refi ne older

conceptions of continents and oceans. And astrophysicists are now studying vast amounts

of new data about the universe, which have been sent to them from powerful telescopes

mounted on unmanned spaceships.

Cartography, the art and science of mapmaking, has evolved rapidly, but we tend to

forget how our maps often remain conventional and even parochial. It was Europeans and

descendants of Europeans who designed our most commonly used maps, which are oriented

North-South and West-East from fi xed points in their horizons, and which therefore refl ect

their own European cultural assumptions. Similar biases can be found in the maps of other

Race: a cultural

concept

Geography and

culture

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Geography and History 3

cultures too. The Chinese for centuries defi ned and visualized their country as the “Middle

Kingdom.” In the early modern centuries maps drawn in India typically represented South

Asia as forming the major part of the world. One such map depicted the European continent

as a few marginal areas labeled England, France, and “other hat-wearing islands.”

Changing conceptualizations of the globe continue in our day. A map drawn and

published in contemporary Australia, demonstrating the Australian perspective from

“down under,” shows South Africa at the top of the map and Capetown at the very tip, the

large expanse of contemporary African nations in the middle, and the various European

countries crowded at the bottom, the latter appearing quite insignifi cant. The European-

invented term “Middle East” has been called into question, and this region of the world is

perhaps better designated as Western Asia. Even the traditional concept of Europe as one

of the seven continents (Africa, Asia, Europe, North America, South America, Australia,

and Antarctica) is now questioned. Why, for example, should the Indian peninsula be a

“subcontinent” when it roughly matches the size and exceeds the population and diversity

of the European “continent” (at least that part of the “continent” that lies west of the for-

mer Soviet Union)? Europe itself is, of course, actually a peninsula, in a way that the other

continents are not. Some geographers ask us to consider it more properly as part of Asia,

the western part of a great “Eurasian landmass.” Defi ned in these terms, Europe becomes

more of a cultural conception, arising out of perceived differences from Asia and Africa,

than a continent in a strictly geographical sense.

Europe’s Infl uence on Modern History

However we defi ne its place on the globe, Europe has undoubtedly shaped much of mod-

ern world history—partly because of its overseas expansion, partly because of what it

borrowed from other parts of the world, and partly because of its deci-

sive economic and cultural infl uence on the emergence of an increasingly

global civilization. Europe is of course only one of many important cultural

spheres in human history. Its economy, political systems, religious tradi-

tions, and social institutions are not the sole historical path to modernity; indeed, people in

other regions of the world have often challenged or rejected European forms of “modern-

ization” as they have built their own modern societies. Yet even the critique or rejection

of European institutions has usually required historical analysis of Europe’s development

and role in the world. Much of the modern global economy, for example, emerged in

the international trade that Europe’s imperial powers controlled and expanded after the

sixteenth century. European political ideas, science, philosophy, cultural mores, and people

also spread widely across the world, contributing to both the constructive and destructive

patterns of modern political, social, and cultural life. Ideas and people have meanwhile

fl owed constantly into Europe from other parts of the world, so that European societies

remain a vital center for cross-cultural exchanges and confl icts.

It is possible to narrate a “history of the modern world” from widely diverging per-

spectives and with an emphasis on quite different historical themes. This book, however,

begins with the recognition that Europe developed and promoted many of the distinc-

tive “modern” ideas and institutions that have now evolved in various forms throughout

the contemporary world. Historical understanding of modernity must therefore include a

comprehensive analysis of Europe—though an accurate history of the modern world must

also insist that Europe represents only one of the diverse, complex cultures that continue

to shape modern global history. The title of this book’s new edition has thus been changed

Europe and history

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Geography and History4

PYRE N E ES

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Athe

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Geography and History 5

0 100 200 300 miles

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Geography and History6

to convey the historical themes and limits of Europe’s role in the modern world. Europe

has long developed distinctive cultural traditions and institutions, but its modern identity

as a specifi c civilization has always evolved through interactions with people and cultures

in other places around the globe.

Europe exemplifi es the perennial interactions between human activity and the natural

environment, and the study of its historical evolution should begin with some attention to its

geography. The accompanying topographical map shows the main physical features of

Europe and its surrounding geographical space. This topography has remained virtually

unchanged over historic time, despite the constant political and cultural transformations in

European societies. Europe is not large. Even with European Russia, it contains hardly more

than 6 percent of the earth’s land surface, occupying about the same area as the United

States mainland plus Alaska. It is only a little larger than Australia. It is physically separated

from Africa by the Mediterranean Sea, although the Mediterranean historically has been as

much a passageway as a barrier. A truer barrier emerged when the Sahara Desert dried up

only a few thousand years ago, which suggests why northern Africa has often been as con-

nected to southern Europe, or culturally to the Middle East, as to sub-Saharan Africa. The

physical separation of Europe from Asia is even less clear. The conventional boundary has

been the Ural Mountains in Russia, but they are a low and wide chain that does not stretch

far enough to make an adequate boundary. The Russians themselves do not recognize any

offi cial distinction between European and Asian Russia.

Europe is indeed one of several peninsulas jutting off from Asia, like

the Arabian and Indian peninsulas. But there are differences. For one thing,

the Mediterranean Sea is unique among the world’s bodies of water. Closed

in by the Strait of Gibraltar, which is only 8 miles wide, it is more shielded

than other seas from the open ocean and is protected from the most violent

ocean storms. Though over 2,000 miles long, it is subdivided by islands and peninsulas

into lesser seas with identities of their own, such as the Aegean and the Adriatic, and it

provides access also to the Black Sea. Because it is possible to travel great distances with-

out being far from land, navigation developed on the Mediterranean from early times, and

one of the fi rst civilizations appeared on the island of Crete. It is possible also to cross

between Europe and Asia at the Bosporus and between Europe and Africa at Gibraltar.

Populations and cultures became mixed by migration, and various historic empires—the

Carthaginian, Roman, Byzantine, Arabic, Spanish, Venetian, and Ottoman—have effec-

tively used the Mediterranean to govern their component parts. After the Suez Canal was

built in the nineteenth century, the Mediterranean became an important segment in the

“lifeline of empire” for the British Empire in its heyday.

In southern Europe, north of the Mediterranean and running for its

whole length, is a series of mountains, produced over the geological ages

by the pushing of the gigantic mass of Africa against the small Eurasian

peninsula. The Pyrenees close off Spain from the north, as the Alps do

Italy; the Balkan Mountains are diffi cult to penetrate. The only place where one can travel

at water level from the Mediterranean to the north is by the valley of the Rhone River, so

that France is the only country that belongs both to the Mediterranean and northern Europe.

North of the mountains is a great plain extending from western France all the way into

Russia and on into Asia, passing south of the Urals. If one were to draw a straight line from

Amsterdam east through what is called the Caspian Gate, north of the Caspian Sea, as far

as western China, one would never in traveling these 3,500 miles be higher than 2,000 feet

above sea level. This plain has at various times opened Europe to Mongol and other

The Mediterranean

Sea

Mountains

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Geography and History 7

invasions, enabled the Russians to move east and create a huge empire, and made Poland a

troubled battleground.

The European rivers are worth particular attention. Most are navigable,

and they also give access to the sea. With their valleys, they provided areas

where intensive local development could take place. Thus the most impor-

tant older cities of Europe are on rivers—London on the Thames, Paris on the Seine,

Vienna and Budapest on the Danube, Warsaw on the Vistula. In northern Europe it was

often possible to move goods from one river to another, and then in the eighteenth century

to connect them by canals. The importance of water is shown again by the location of

Copenhagen, Stockholm, and St. Petersburg on the Baltic and of Amsterdam and Lisbon,

which grew rapidly after Europeans began traversing the Atlantic Ocean.

There are important geographical conditions such as climate that a

topographical map cannot show. Climate depends on latitude, ocean cur-

rents, and winds that bring or withhold rainfall. Europe lies as far north as

the northern United States and southern Canada, but the parts of Europe near the sea have

less extreme temperatures than the corresponding northerly regions of North America. The

Mediterranean countries have more sunshine and less severe winters than either northern

Europe or the northern United States. Everywhere the winters are cold enough to suppress

infectious pathogens and pests and keep out certain diseases that affl ict warmer countries.

The warm summers with their growing seasons have produced an annual cycle of agricul-

ture, and rainfall has been adequate but not excessive. Europe is the only continent that has

no actual desert. It is also for the most part a region of fertile soil. In short, since the end of

the Ice Age, or since humans learned to survive winters, Europe has been one of the most

favored places on the globe for human habitation.

If we say that climate and the environment not only set limits but also

provide opportunities for what human beings can do, then there is no such

thing as geographical determinism. Geography is not destiny. What hap-

pens depends on the application of knowledge and abilities in any particular

time and place and in any particular culture. What constitutes a natural resource varies

with the state of technology and the possibilities of economic exchange. Even the disad-

vantages of distance can be overcome by developing new means of transportation. The

oceans that long divided human beings became a highway for the Portuguese, Spanish,

Dutch, French, and English, and later for others. Chinese and Arab sailors also used the

oceans for trade across Asia and East Africa. For most of human history, however, neither

persons, information, nor commands could travel much more than 30 miles a day. Local-

ism prevailed, and large-scale commercial or governmental organizations were hard to

create and maintain. Like most other regions of the world, therefore, Europe was long

made up of small local units, pockets of territory each with its own customs, way of life,

and manner of speech, largely unknown to or ignorant of others, and looking inward upon

itself. A “foreigner” might come from a thousand miles away, or from only ten.

Agriculture, like commerce and industry, depends on human inven-

tion and decision making. The state of agriculture obviously depends on

natural conditions, but it has also depended historically on the invention of

the plow, the planting of appropriate crops, the rotation of fi elds to prevent soil exhaus-

tion, and the availability of livestock from which manure could be obtained as fertilizer.

It benefi ts from stability and is affected by demographic changes. If population grows, new

and less fertile or more distant areas must be brought under cultivation. Nor can agricul-

ture be improved without the building of roads and a division of labor between town and

Rivers

Climate

Geographical

determinism

Agriculture

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Geography and History8

country, in which agrarian workers produce surpluses for those not engaged in agriculture.

And for agriculture, as for other productive enterprises, elementary security is essential.

Farming cannot proceed, nor food be stored over the winter, unless the men and women

who work the fi elds can be protected from attack.

The maps in the present volume cannot show in detail all of the waterways, moun-

tains, and geographical barriers that have helped to shape the course of human history, but

they do point to the role of geography in the evolution of political and economic power, or

what has become known as geopolitics. Human beings have always developed their insti-

tutions and cultures through a complex relation with the natural world, and maps remind

us that all human activities take place in geographical space. Readers can also use their

imaginations and the scale of maps to convert space into time, remembering that until the

invention of the railroad both people and news traveled far more slowly than today. At a

rate of 30 miles a day it would take three weeks to travel from London to Venice, and at

least six weeks for an exchange of letters. Communication to places outside Europe took

even longer. In our own day, when we travel at supersonic speeds and measure electronic

communication in nanoseconds, or one-billionth of a second, the barriers of geographic

space have virtually disappeared. Yet human beings remain profoundly dependent on their

natural environments, and human history remains fi rmly embedded in the geography of the

planet earth.

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9

C h a p t e r 1 THE RISE OF EUROPE

It may seem  strange for a history of Europe in the modern world to begin with the European Middle

Ages, for the Middle Ages were not modern. But

much of what is now meant by “modern” made its

fi rst appearance in Europe, and to understand both

modern Europe and its role in the wider modern

world it is necessary to reach fairly far back in time.

Over the centuries between roughly 1500 and

1900, Europe created the most powerful combina-

tion of political, military, economic, technological,

and scientifi c apparatus that the world had ever

seen. In doing so, Europe radically transformed

itself, and also profoundly affected other societies and cultures in America, Africa, and

Asia—sometimes destroying them, sometimes stimulating or enlivening them, and always

presenting them with problems of resistance or adaptation. This European ascendancy

became apparent about 300 years ago. It reached its zenith with the European colonial

empires at the beginning of the twentieth century. Since then, the position of Europe has

relatively declined, partly because of confl icts within Europe itself, but mainly because the

apparatus that had made Europe so dominant can now be found in other countries. Some,

like the United States, are in many ways cultural and political offshoots of Europe. Others

have very different and ancient backgrounds. But whatever their backgrounds, and will-

ingly or not, all peoples in the contemporary world have been caught up in processes of

“modernization” or “development,” which often means acquiring or adapting some of the

technical skills and powers fi rst exhibited by Europeans.

There is thus in our time a kind of global modern civilization that overlies or pen-

etrates the diverse, regional cultures of the world. This civilization is an interlocking

global system, in that conditions on one side of the globe have repercussions on the other.

Communications are almost instantaneous and news travels everywhere. If the air is pol-

luted in one country, neighboring countries are affected; if oil ceases to fl ow from the

Middle East, the life of Europe, North America, and Japan may become very diffi cult.

The modern world depends on elaborate means of transportation; on science, industry, and

1. Ancient Times: Greece,

Rome, and Christianity

2. The Early Middle Ages:

The Formation of Europe

3. The High Middle Ages:

Secular Civilization

4. The High Middle Ages:

The Church

Chapter emblem: A medieval representation of Saint Augustine. (Scala/Art Resource, NY)

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Chapter 1 The Rise of Europe10

machines; on new sources of energy to meet insatiable demands; on scientifi c medicine,

public hygiene, and methods of raising food. States and nations fi ght wars by advanced

methods, and negotiate or maintain peace by diplomacy. There is an earth-encompassing

network of fi nance and trade, loans and debts, investments and bank accounts, with result-

ing fl uctuations in monetary exchanges and balances of payments. More than 190 very

unequal and disunited members compose the United Nations and represent every region of

the world, but the very concept of the modern nation, as represented in that body, is derived

largely from Europe.

In most modern countries there have been pressures for increased democracy, and all

modern governments, democratic or not, seek to arouse the energies and support of their

populations. In a modern society old customs loosen, and ancestral religions are often

questioned or transformed. There are usually demands for individual liberation, and an

expectation of a higher standard of living. Modern societies typically move toward more

equality between sexes and races, between adherents of different religions, or between

different parts of the same country; and most modern governments provide social and eco-

nomic assistance for people with low incomes. Movements for social change may be slow

and gradual, or revolutionary and catastrophic, but movement of some kind is universal.

Such are a few of the historical trends of modernity. New “modernizing” forms of

technology, culture, or economic organization now emerge in many different regions of

the world, but most of the early patterns of modernity appeared fi rst in Europe or in the

extension of European societies (including the United States). The present book thus deals

mainly with the historical growth of European societies and civilization, with increasing

attention in later chapters to Europe’s colonizing expansion into other parts of the world.

European encounters with diverse peoples and civilizations provoked a wide range of

cross-cultural interactions, including movements that criticized or rejected many aspects

of “modernity” itself. Such movements have also been part of modern world history, and

when they have occurred in Asia or Africa they have often been called anti-European or

anti-Western, as if to show that Europe and the “West” embody most of the key problems

of modern history. Even those movements that most vigorously challenge Western social

and cultural systems, however, must confront the institutions, ideas, and legacies of mod-

ern European history.

If “modern” refers especially to a certain complicated way of living, it has also

another sense, meaning merely what is recent or current. As a time span the word “mod-

ern” is purely relative. It depends on what we are talking about. A modern kitchen may

be as much as 5 years old, modern physics is more than 100 years old, modern science

is now over 350 years old, and the modern European languages began to emerge about

1,000 years ago. Modern civilization, the current civilization in which we are living, and

which is always changing, is in one sense a product of the last two or three centuries,

but in other senses it is much older. Roughly speaking, it may be said that modern times

began in Europe about 1500. Modern times were preceded by a period of 1,000 years

called the Middle Ages, which set in about 500 c.e., and which were in turn preceded by

about another 1,000 years of classical Greek and Roman civilization. Before that reached

the long histories of Egypt and Mesopotamia, and, further east, of the Indus Valley and

China. All times prior to the European Middle Ages are commonly called “ancient.” But

the whole framework—ancient, medieval, and modern—is largely a matter of words and

convention, whose meaning developed mainly with reference to Europe. We shall begin

our history with a running start, and slow down the pace, surveying the scene more fully as

the times grow more modern.

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11

1. ANCIENT TIMES: GREECE, ROME, AND CHRISTIANITY

Europeans were by no means the pioneers of human civilization. Half of recorded history

had passed before anyone in Europe could read or write. The priests of Egypt began to

keep written records between 4000 and 3000 b.c.e., but 2,000 years later the poems of

Homer were still being circulated in the Greek city-states by word of mouth—a form of

oral history that has sustained collective memories in many human cultures. Shortly after

3000 b.c.e., while the pharaohs were building the pyramids, Europeans were laboriously

setting up the huge, unwrought stones called megaliths, of which Stonehenge is the best-

known example. In a word, until after 2000 b.c.e., Europe was in the Neolithic or New

Stone Age. This was in truth a great age in human history, the age in which human beings

learned to make and use sharp tools, weave cloth, build living quarters, domesticate ani-

mals, plant seeds, harvest crops, and sense the returning cycles of the months and years.

But the Middle East—Egypt, the Euphrates and Tigris valley, the island of Crete, and the

shores of the Aegean Sea (which belonged more to Asia than to Europe)—had reached its

Neolithic Age 2,000 years before Europe. By about 4000 b.c.e. the Middle East was

already moving into the Bronze Age.

After about 2000 b.c.e., in the dim, dark continent that Europe then was, great changes

began that are now diffi cult to trace. Europeans, too, learned how to smelt and forge metals,

with the Bronze Age setting in about 2000 b.c.e. and the Iron Age about 1000 b.c.e. There

was also a steady infusion of new peoples into Europe. They spoke languages related to

languages now spoken in India and Iran, to which similar peoples migrated

at about the same time. All these languages (whose interconnection was not

known until the nineteenth century) are now referred to as Indo-European,

and the people who spoke them became the ancestors both of the classical

Greeks and Romans and of the Europeans of modern times. All European languages today

are Indo-European with the exceptions of Basque, which is thought to be a survival from

before the Indo-European invasion, and of Finnish and Hungarian, which were brought

into Europe from Asia some centuries later. It was these invading Indo-Europeans who

diffused over Europe the kind of speech from which the Latin, Greek, Germanic, Slavic,

Celtic, and Baltic languages were later derived.

The Greek World

The fi rst Indo-Europeans to emerge into the clear light of history, in what is now Europe,

were the Greeks. They fi ltered down through the Balkan peninsula to the shores of the

Aegean Sea about 1900 b.c.e., undermining the older Cretan civilization and occupying

most of what has since been called Greece by 1300 b.c.e. Beginning about 1150 b.c.e., other

Greek-speaking tribes invaded from the north in successive waves. The newcomers included

many restless and warlike tribes, and their coming ushered in several centuries of chaos and

unrest before a gradual stabilization and revival began in the ninth century. The Iliad and the Odyssey, written down about 800 b.c.e., but composed and recited much earlier, probably refer to wars between the Greeks and other centers of civilization, of which one was at Troy

in Asia Minor. The siege of Troy is thought to have occurred about 1200 b.c.e.

The ancient Greeks proved to be an exceptionally gifted people, achieving supreme

heights in thought and letters. They absorbed the knowledge of earlier east-

ern cultures, the mathematical lore of the ancient Chaldeans, and the arts

and crafts that they found in Asia Minor and on voyages to Egypt. They

Indo-Europeans

Greek cultural

accomplishments

1. Ancient Times: Greece, Rome, and Christianity

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Chapter 1 The Rise of Europe12

added immediately to everything that they learned. It was the Greeks of the fi fth and fourth

centuries b.c.e. who formulated what the Western world long meant by the beautiful, and

who fi rst speculated on political freedom.

As they settled down, the Greeks formed tiny city-states, all independent and often

at war with one another, each only a few miles across, and typically including a coastal

city and its adjoining farmlands. Athens, Corinth, and Sparta were such city-states. Many

were democratic, which meant that all male citizens could congregate in the marketplace

to elect offi cials and discuss their public business. They were not democratic in a modern

sense in that slaves, resident noncitizens (called “metics”), and women were excluded from

political life.

Politics was turbulent in the small Greek states. Democracy alternated with aristoc-

racy, oligarchy, despotism, and tyranny. From this rich fund of experience was born

systematic political science as set forth in the unwritten speculations of Socrates and in

the Republic of Plato and the Politics of Aristotle in the fourth century b.c.e. The Greeks also were the fi rst to write history as a subject distinct from myth and legend. Herodotus,

“the Father of History,” traveled throughout the Greek world and far beyond, ferreting

out all he could learn of the past; and Thucydides, in his account of the wars between

Athens and Sparta, presented history as a guide to enlightened citizenship and construc-

tive statecraft.

Perhaps because they were a restless and vehement people, the Greeks

came to prize the “classical” virtues, which they were the fi rst to defi ne and

which would have great infl uence in the subsequent history of European

societies. For them, the ideal lay in moderation, or a golden mean. They

Classical Greek virtues

The Parthenon, constructed in ancient Athens during the fi fth century b.c.e. to honor the god- dess Athena, gave architectural form to the Greek respect for balance, order, and symmetry. (Scala/Art Resource, NY)

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13

valued order, balance, symmetry, clarity, and control. Their statues of idealized males

revealed their conception of what humans ought to be—noble creatures, dignifi ed, poised,

unterrifi ed by life or death, masters of themselves and their feelings. Their architecture, as

in the Parthenon, made use of exactly measured angles and rows of columns. The classical

“order,” or set of carefully wrought pillars placed in a straight line at specifi ed intervals,

represented the fi rm impress of human reason on the brute materials of nature. The same

sense of form and order was thrown over the torrent of human words. Written language

became carefully planned and organized for effect. The epic poem, the lyric, the drama,

the oration, along with history and the philosophical dialogue, each with its own rules and

principles of composition, became the “forms” within which, in Western civilization, writ-

ers long expressed their thoughts.

Refl ecting on the world about them, Greek philosophers concluded that something

more enduring existed beyond the world of appearances, that true reality was not what met

the eye. With other peoples, and with the Greeks themselves in earlier times, this same

realization had led to the formation of myths, dealing with invisible but mighty beings

known as gods and with faraway places on the tops of mountains, beneath the earth, or in

a world that followed death. Greek thinkers set to criticizing the web of myth. They looked

for rational or natural explanations behind the variety and confusion that they saw. Some,

observing human sickness, said that disease was not a demonic possession, but a natural

sequence of conditions in the body, which could be identifi ed, understood, and even treated

in a natural way. Others, turning to physical nature, said that all matter was in reality com-

posed of a very few things—made up of atoms or elements—which they usually desig-

nated as fi re, water, earth, and air. Some said that change was a kind of illusion, all basic

reality being uniform; some, that only change was real, and that the world was in fl ux.

Some, like Pythagoras, found the enduring reality in “number,” or mathematics. The

Greeks, in short, laid the foundations for science. Studying also the way in which the mind

worked, or ought to work, if it was to reach truthful conclusions, they developed the sci-

ence of logic. The great codifi er of Greek thought on almost all subjects in the classical

period was Aristotle, who lived in Athens from 384 to 322 b.c.e.

Greek infl uence spread widely and rapidly. Hardly were some of

the city-states founded when their people, crowded within their narrow

bounds, sent off some of their number with equipment and provisions to

establish colonies. In this way Greek cities were very early established

in south Italy, in Sicily, and even in the western Mediterranean, where Marseilles was

founded about 600 b.c.e. Later the Greek city-states, unable to unite, succumbed to con-

quest by Philip of Macedon, who came from the relatively crude northern part of the

Greek world, and whose son, Alexander the Great (356–323 b.c.e.), led a phenomenal,

conquering march into Asia, across Persia, and on as far as India itself. Alexander’s

empire did not hold together, but Greek civilization, after having penetrated the western

Mediterranean, now began to infl uence the ancient peoples of Egypt and the Middle East.

Greek thought, Greek art, and the Greek language spread far and wide, drawing at the

same time on the knowledge and creativity of other ancient cultures. The most famous

“Greeks” after the fourth century b.c.e. and on into the early centuries of the Christian era

usually did not come from Greece but from the Hellenized Middle East, and especially

from Alexandria in Egypt. Among these later Greeks were the great summarizers or writ-

ers of encyclopedias in which ancient science was passed on to later generations—Strabo

in geography, Galen in medicine, Ptolemy in astronomy. All three lived in the fi rst and

second centuries c.e.

Spread of Greek

civilization

1. Ancient Times: Greece, Rome, and Christianity

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Chapter 1 The Rise of Europe14

The Roman World

In 146 b.c.e. the Greeks who lived within Greece were conquered by the military forces of

Rome, the expanding power that had already taken control of the western Mediterranean.

The Romans kept their own Latin language but rapidly absorbed what they could of the

intellectual and artistic culture of the Greeks. Over a period of two or three centuries they

assembled an empire in which the whole world of ancient civilization (west of Persia) was

included. Egypt, Greece, Asia Minor, Syria all became Roman provinces, but in them the

Romans had hardly any deep infl uence except in a political sense. In the West—in what

are now Tunisia, Algeria, Morocco, Spain, Portugal, France, Switzerland, Belgium, and

England—the Romans, though ruthless in their methods of conquest, in the long run acted

as civilizing agents, transmitting to these hitherto isolated countries the age-old achieve-

ments of the East and the more recent culture of Greece and of Rome itself. So thorough

was the Romanization that in the West Latin even became the commonly spoken language.

It was later displaced by Arabic in Africa but survives to this day, transformed by time, in

the Romance languages of France, Italy, Spain, Portugal, and Romania.

In the Roman Empire, which lasted with many vicissitudes from about

31 b.c.e. to the latter part of the fi fth century c.e., virtually the entire civi-

lized world of the ancient West was politically united and enjoyed genera-

tions of internal peace. Rome was the center, around which in all directions

lay the “circle of lands,” the orbis terrarum, the known world—that is, as known in the West, for the Han Empire at the same time in China (202 b.c.e. to 220 c.e.) was also a

The Roman Empire

The Forum was the vital center of Roman public life and a symbol of imperial power. Rome’s sense of grandeur and social order can still be discerned in the Forum’s ruins, which are pic- tured here with the famous coliseum in the background. (Corbis)

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15

highly organized cultural and political entity. The Roman Empire consisted essentially of

the coasts of the Mediterranean Sea, which provided the great artery of transport and com-

munication, and from which no part of the empire, except northern Gaul (France), Britain,

and the Rhineland, was more than a couple of hundred miles away. Civilization among

the elites in this vast empire was remarkably uniform; there were no distinct nationalities,

and the most signifi cant cultural difference was linguistic. East of Italy the predominant

language was Greek, whereas in Italy and to the west the predominant language was Latin.

Cities grew up everywhere, engaged in a busy commercial life, exchanged ideas with one

another, and, like the cities in other ancient cultures, relied on the labor of slaves. There

were always more cities in the East, where most of the manufacturing crafts and the dens-

est population were still concentrated, but they sprang up now in the West—indeed, most

of the older cities of France, Spain, England, and western and southern Germany boast of

some kind of origin under the Romans.

The distinctive aptitude of the Romans lay in organization, administration, govern-

ment, and law. Never before had armies been so systematically formed, maintained over

such long periods, dispatched at a word of command over such distances, or maneuvered

so effectively on the fi eld of battle. Never had so many peoples been governed from a sin-

gle center. The Romans had at fi rst possessed self-governing and republican institutions,

but they lost them in the process of conquest, and the governing talents that

they displayed in the days of the empire were of an authoritarian character—

talents, not for self-government, but for managing, coordinating, and ruling

the manifold and scattered parts of one enormous system. Locally, cities

and city-states enjoyed a good deal of autonomy. But above them all rose a pyramid of

imperial offi cials and provincial governors, culminating in the emperor at the top. The

empire kept peace, the pax Romana, and even provided a certain justice for its many peo- ples. Lawyers worked on the body of principles known ever afterward as Roman law.

The pax Romana

1. Ancient Times: Greece, Rome, and Christianity

Caesar Augustus became the fi rst emperor of the Roman Empire after a protracted struggle for power in the fi rst century b.c.e. He reor- ganized the earlier Roman republican govern- ment into a new imperial system during his long reign (31 b.c.e.–14 c.e.); and, as this statue suggests, Augustus was often portrayed as a powerful symbol of the pax Romana. (Paolo Gaetano Rocco/Getty Images)

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Chapter 1 The Rise of Europe16

Roman judges had somehow to settle disputes between persons of different regions,

or between persons with confl icting local customs, for example, two merchants of Spain

and Egypt. The Roman law came therefore to hold that no custom is necessarily right,

that there is a higher or universal law by which fair decisions may be made, and that this

higher, universal, or “natural” law, or “law of nature,” will be understandable or accept-

able to everyone, since it arises from human nature and reason. Here the lawyers drew

on Greek philosophy for support. They held also that law derives its force from being

enacted by a proper authority (not merely from custom, usage, or former legal cases);

this authority to make law they called majestas, or sovereign power, and they attributed it to the emperor. Thus the Romans emancipated the idea of law from mere custom on the

one hand and mere caprice on the other; they regarded it as something to be formed by

enlightened intelligence, consistent with reason and the nature of things; and they associ-

ated it with the solemn action of offi cial power. It must be added that Roman law favored

the state, or the public interest as seen by the government, rather than the interests or liber-

ties of individual persons, and it generally provided men with more legal privileges than

women. These principles, together with more specifi c ideas on such matters as property,

debt, marriage, and wills were in later centuries to have a great effect in Europe.

The Coming of Christianity

The thousand years during which Greco-Roman civilization arose and fl ourished were

notable in another way even more momentous for all later human history. It was in this

period that the great world religions came into being. Within the time bracket 800 b.c.e.

to 700 c.e. the lives of Confucius and Buddha, of the major Jewish prophets, and of

Muhammad are all included. At the very midpoint (probably about 4 b.c.e.), in Palestine

in the Roman Empire, a man named Jesus was born, believed by his followers to be the

Son of God. Jesus became a popular religious teacher who urged his disciples to assist the

poor, alleviate suffering, and help all those in need, including strangers. A Roman gover-

nor, fearing social disruption, ordered Jesus’s crucifi xion, but his followers affi rmed that

Jesus arose from death and later appeared to some who had known him. The new Chris-

tian religion thus began to develop in Palestine, and, like Jesus, the fi rst Christians were

Jews. But under the impulse of its own doctrine, which held that all people were alike in

spirit, and under the strong early leadership of Paul, a man of Jewish birth, Roman citizen-

ship, and Greek culture, Christianity began to make converts. The new religion, as

described in the canonical gospel writings of the Christian Bible and the commentaries of

early Christian thinkers, gradually fused the monotheism of Judaism and its ethical teach-

ings with various themes in Greek philosophy, creating a new synthesis of Judeo-Greek

thought that would shape much of the later history of ideas in Western cultures. Christian-

ity gained adherents across most of the Roman Empire, and there were certainly a few

Christians in Rome by the middle of the fi rst century. Both Paul and the elder apostle,

Peter, according to church tradition, died as martyrs at Rome in the time of Emperor Nero

about 67 c.e.

The Christian teaching spread at fi rst among the poor, the people at the

bottom of society, those whom Greek glories and Roman splendors had

passed over or enslaved, and who had the least to delight in or to hope for in

the existing world. Women were also drawn to the new religion, perhaps in

part because early Christianity offered them more autonomy and more opportunities for

leadership than they found in the traditional patriarchal order of Roman law and families.

Emergence and spread

of Christianity

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17

Gradually Christian ideas reached the upper classes; a few classically educated and well-

to-do people became Christians; in the second century Christian bishops and writers were

at work publicly in various parts of the empire. In the third century the Roman government,

with the empire falling into turmoil, and blaming the social troubles on the Christians, sub-

jected them to wholesale persecution. In the fourth century (possibly in 312 c.e.) the

Emperor Constantine accepted Christianity. By the fi fth century the entire Roman world

was formally Christian; no other religion was offi cially tolerated; and the deepest thinkers

were Christians who combined Christian beliefs with the now thousand-year-old tradition

of Greco-Roman thought, philosophy, and social institutions.

It is impossible to exaggerate the importance of the coming of

Christianity. It brought with it, for one thing, an altogether new sense of

human life. Where the Greeks had demonstrated the powers of the mind,

the Christians explored the soul, and they taught that in the sight of God all

souls were equal, that every human life was sacrosanct and inviolate, and that all worldly

distinctions of greatness, beauty, and brilliancy were in the last analysis superfi cial. Where

the Greeks had linked the beautiful with the good, thought ugliness to be bad, shrunk from

disease as an imperfection, and viewed everything misshapen as horrible and repulsive, the

Christians resolutely saw a spiritual beauty even in the plainest or most unpleasant exterior

and sought out the diseased, the crippled, and the mutilated to give them help. Love, for

the ancients, was never quite distinguished from Venus; for the Christians, who held that

God was love, it took on deep overtones of sacrifi ce and compassion. Suffering itself was

in a way divine, since God had also suffered on the Cross in human form. A new dignity

was thus found for suffering that the world could not cure. At the same time the Christians

worked to relieve suffering as none had worked before. They protested against the mas-

sacre of prisoners of war, against the mistreatment and degradation of slaves, against the

sending of gladiators to kill each other in the arena for another’s pleasure. In place of the

Greek and pagan self-satisfaction with human accomplishments they taught humility in

the face of an almighty Providence, and in place of proud distinctions between high and

low, slave and free, civilized and barbarian, they held that all men and women were alike

because all were children of the same God.

On an intellectual level Christianity also marked a revolution. It was Christianity, not

rational philosophy, that dispelled the ancient beliefs in greater and lesser gods and god-

desses; the blood sacrifi ces and self-immolation; or the frantic resort to magic, fortune-

telling, and divination. The Christians taught that there was only one God. The pagan

conception of local, tribal, or national gods disappeared. For all the world there was only

one plan of Salvation and one Providence, and all human beings took their origin from one

source. The idea of the world as one thing, a “universe,” was thus affi rmed with a new

depth of meaning. The very intolerance of Christianity (which was new to the ancient

world) came from this new sense of human unity, in which it was thought that all people

should have, and deserved to have, the one true and saving religion.

The Christians were often denounced and persecuted for their political

ideas. The Roman Empire was a world state, and the Romans accepted no

rival to its power; no living human being except the emperor was sover-

eign; no one anywhere on earth was his equal. Between gods and human

beings, in the pagan view, there was moreover no clear distinction. Some gods behaved

very humanly, and some human creatures were more like gods than others. The emperor

was held to be veritably a god. A cult of Caesar was established, regarded as necessary

to maintain the state, which was the world itself. All this the Christians fi rmly refused to

Christian beliefs

Persecution of

Christians

1. Ancient Times: Greece, Rome, and Christianity

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Chapter 1 The Rise of Europe18

St. Augustine’s infl uence on Christian theology was honored throughout the Middle Ages; he appears here in a medi- eval illustration, dispensing truths from a celestial throne. (Scala/Art Resource, NY)

accept. It was because they would not worship Caesar that the Roman offi cials regarded

them as social incendiaries who must be persecuted and stamped out.

The Christian doctrine on this point went back to the saying gathered from Jesus, that

one should render to Caesar the things that were Caesar’s, and to God those that were

God’s. The same dualism was presented more systematically by St. Augustine about

420 c.e. in his City of God. Few books have been more infl uential in shaping the later development of Western civilization.

The “world,” the world of Caesar, in the time of St. Augustine, was

going to ruin. Rome itself was plundered in 410 c.e. by heathen barbarians.

Augustine wrote the City of God with this event obsessing his imagination. St. Augustine

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19

He wrote to show that though the material world could perish there was yet another world

that was more enduring and more important.

There were, he said, really two “cities,” the earthly and the heavenly, the temporal and

the eternal, the city of man and the City of God. The earthly city was the domain of state

and empire, of political authority and political obedience. It was a good thing, as part of

God’s providential scheme for human life, but it had no inherently divine character of its

own. The emperor was human. The state was not absolute; it could be judged, criticized, or

corrected from sources outside itself. It was, for all its majesty and splendor, really subor-

dinate in some way to a higher and spiritual power. This power lay in the City of God. By

the City of God Augustine meant many things, and readers found all sorts of meanings in

later ages. The heavenly city might mean heaven itself, the abode of God and of blessed

spirits enjoying life after death. It might mean certain elect spirits of this world, the good

people as opposed to the bad. It might, more theoretically, be a system of ideal values or

ideal justice, as opposed to the crude approximations of the actual world.

In any case, this Christian dualism gave the later European and Western

world a theoretical escape from what is called Caesaropapism, a political

system in which one person holds the powers of ruler and of pontiff.

Instead, the spiritual power and the political power were held to be sepa-

rate and independent. In later times popes and kings often quarreled with each other; the

clergy often struggled for political power, and governments often attempted to dictate what

people should believe, or love, or hope for. But speaking in general of European history

neither side has ever won out, and in the sharp distinction between the spiritual and the

temporal has lain the germ of many liberties in later societies. At the same time the idea

that no ruler, no government, and no institution is too mighty to rise above moral criticism

eventually opened the way to dynamic and progressive changes in European social and

political systems.

2. THE EARLY MIDDLE AGES: THE FORMATION OF EUROPE

There was really no Europe in ancient times. In the Roman Empire we may see a Mediter-

ranean world, or even a kind of early West and East in the Latin- and Greek-speaking por-

tions. But the West included parts of Africa as well as of Europe, and Europe as we know it

was divided by the Rhine-Danube frontier, south and west of which lay the civilized prov-

inces of the empire, and north and east the “barbarians” of whom the Roman world knew

almost nothing. To the Romans, “Africa” meant lands that are now called Tunisia and

Algeria; “Asia” meant the Asia Minor peninsula; and the word “Europe,” since it meant

little, was scarcely used by them at all. It was in the half-millennium from the fi fth to the

tenth centuries that Europe as such for the fi rst time emerged with its peoples brought

together in a life of their own, clearly set off from Asia or Africa and beginning to create a

culture that would become “Western.”

The Disintegration of the Roman Empire

The Roman Empire began to fall apart, especially in the West, and the Christianizing of

the empire did nothing to impede its decline. The Emperor Constantine, who in embracing

Christianity undoubtedly hoped to strengthen the imperial system, also took

one other signifi cant step. In 330 c.e. he founded a new capital at the old

Greek city of Byzantium, which he renamed Constantinople. (It is now

Istanbul.) Thereafter the Roman Empire had two capitals, Rome and

Caesaropapism

Founding of

Constantinople

2. The Early Middle Ages: The Formation of Europe

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Chapter 1 The Rise of Europe20

Constantinople, and was administered in two halves. Increasingly the center of gravity

moved eastward, as if returning to the more ancient centers in the Middle East, as if the

experiment of civilizing the West were to be given up as a failure.

Throughout its long life the empire had been surrounded on almost all sides by people

whom the Romans called “barbarians”—wild Celts in Wales and Scotland, Germans in the

heart of Europe, Persians or Parthians in the East (barbarian only in the ancient sense of

speaking neither Greek nor Latin), and, in the southeast, the Arabs. These diverse peoples,

with the exception of some Persians, had never been brought within the control of ancient

Greek or Roman civilization. Somewhat like the Chinese, who about 200 b.c.e. built sev-

eral walls to solve the same problem, the Romans simply drew a line beyond which they

themselves rarely ventured and would not allow the barbarians to pass. Nevertheless out-

siders fi ltered into the empire. As early as the third century c.e., emperors and generals

recruited bands of them to serve in the Roman armies. Their service over, they would

receive farmlands, settle down, marry, and mingle with the population. By the fourth and

fi fth centuries a good many such individuals were even reaching high positions of state.

At the same time, in the West, for reasons that are not fully understood,

the activity of the Roman cities began to falter, commerce began to decay,

local governments became paralyzed, taxes became more ruinous, and free

farmers were bound to the soil. The army seated and unseated emperors.

Rival generals fought with each other. Gradually the West fell into decrepitude, and the old

line between the Roman provinces and the barbarian world made less and less difference.

After some centuries of relative stability, the barbarians themselves,

pressed by more distant peoples from Asia, rather suddenly began to move.

Sometimes they fi rst sought peaceable access to the empire, attracted by

the warmer Mediterranean climate, or desiring to share in the advantages

of Roman civilization. More often, Germanic tribes moved swiftly and by force, plunder-

ing, fi ghting, and killing as they went. In 476 a barbarian chieftain deposed the last Roman

emperor in the West. Sometimes in the general upheaval peoples from Asia rapidly intermixed

with other populations in the old Roman Empire. The most famous of these invaders were

the Huns, who cut through central Europe and France about 450 under their leader Attila, the

“scourge of God”—and then disappeared. There were also other invasions. Two centuries later

new irruptions burst upon the Greco-Roman world from the southeast, where hitherto outlying

peoples poured in from the Arabian deserts. The Arabs, mobilized by the new faith of Islam

(Muhammad died in 632), fell as conquerors upon Syria, Mesopotamia, and Persia; occupied

Egypt about 640 and the old Roman Africa about 700; and in 711 they reached Spain.

Beneath these blows the old unity of the Greco-Roman or Mediterranean world was

broken. The “circle of lands” divided into three segments. Three types of civilization now

confronted each other across the inland sea.

The Byzantine World, the Arabic World, and the West about 700

The Eastern Roman, Later Roman, Greek, or Byzantine Empire (all names

for the same empire) with its capital at Constantinople, and now including

only the Asia Minor peninsula, the Balkan peninsula, and parts of Italy,

made up one segment of the circle of lands. It represented the most direct

continuation of the ancient civilizations of the Middle East. It was Christian in religion and

Greek in culture and language. Its people viewed themselves as the truest heirs both of

early Christianity and of earlier cultures in Greece. Art and architecture, trades and crafts,

Decline in the West

Barbarian invasions

Byzantine Empire

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21

commerce and navigation, thought and writing, government and law, while not so creative

or fl exible as in the classical age, were still carried on actively in the eastern empire, on

much the same level as in the closing centuries of ancient times. For all Christians, and for

heathen barbarians in Europe, the emperor of the East stood out as the world’s supreme

ruler, and Constantinople as the world’s preeminent and most fabulous city.

The second segment of the Mediterranean world was the Arabic and

Islamic. It became the most dynamic culture in the lands of the old Roman

Empire, reaching from the neighborhood of the Pyrenees through Spain and

all North Africa into Arabia, Syria, and the East. Arabic was its language;

it became, and still remains, the common speech from Morocco to the Persian Gulf. Islam

was its religion, and it looked to the prophet Muhammad (c. 570–632) and the Qur’an (or

Koran) for its religious truths. Muhammad had spent his early adult years as a merchant

in Mecca on the Arabian peninsula, but he began to have a series of intense religious rev-

elations when he was about 40 years old. These revelations led Muhammad to a devout

and uncompromising monotheism, which stressed the great power of God—or Allah

in Arabic—and the human duty to adhere to God’s will. Muhammad saw himself as a

prophet in the Jewish and Christian tradition, but he soon came to defi ne his revelations

and teachings as the beginning of a new religion. The messages that came to Muhammad

through revelation were written down in the sacred book of Islam, the Qur’an, which was

organized into 114 chapters (called suras ). Emphasizing submission to God, the impor- tance of prayer, and an ethical obligation to help others, the Qur’an provided directions for

the affairs of daily life as well as a powerful, poetic vision of the grandeur of God.

Muhammad’s revelations attracted little early support in Mecca. Indeed, the hostil-

ity there forced him to move north in 622 to the city of Medina. This famous fl ight (the

Hegira ) brought him to a more receptive community, where his teachings quickly gained numerous adherents and from where the fi rst Muslims set out to spread the new faith across

all of Arabia, including Mecca. Muhammad died in 632, but the new religion continued

to expand rapidly in all directions. Leadership passed to a series of caliphs who were

initially relatives of Muhammad himself. As Muslims conquered new territories and won

new converts throughout the Middle East and North Africa, the lands of Islam came under

the control of these caliphs. All Muslims were included in the caliphate. The ruling caliph

exercised both spiritual and political authority, and he was regarded as the true religious

and military successor of Muhammad himself.

Confl icts and lasting divisions nevertheless developed during the era of the third

Caliph, Uthman—one of the sons-in-law of Muhammad and a leader of the Umayyad

family. Supporters of Ali, a rival leader and also a son-in-law of Muhammad, killed

Uthman in 656, and Ali came to power as the fourth caliph. This violence did not resolve

the confl ict, however, and Ali himself was soon murdered. Ali’s followers refused to

accept the legitimacy of the Umayyad family, which now regained control of the caliphate.

A minority faction, called Shiites, continued to honor Ali and to claim that all true lead-

ers of Islam must descend from him. Although most Muslims supported the Umayyad

caliphs, the Shiite minority remained a permanent presence within Islam, sustaining the

memory of Ali and challenging the religious legitimacy of the dominant Sunnis (a term

that emerged later). Meanwhile, the Umayyad dynasty set up its capital in Damascus, and

some members of the family eventually extended their power as far west as Spain. Meeting

at such places on the European continent and in other Mediterranean lands, Muslims and

Christians began a long-developing pattern of exchanges and confl icts that would help to

shape both of these religious cultures through all later centuries.

Arabic world

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Chapter 1 The Rise of Europe22

The Arabic world, like the Byzantine, built upon the heritage of the Greco-Romans. In

religion, the early Muslims regarded themselves as successors to the Jewish and Christian

traditions. They considered the line of Jewish prophets since Abraham to be spokesmen

of the true God, and they put Jesus in this line. But they added that Muhammad was the

last and greatest of the prophets, that the Qur’an set forth a revelation replacing that of the

Jewish Bible, that the Christian New Testament was mistaken because Christ was not

divine, and that the Christian belief in a Trinity was erroneous because there was in the

strictest sense only One True God. To the Muslim Arabs, therefore, all Christians were

dangerous or misguided infi dels.

In mundane matters, the Arabs speedily took over the civilization of the lands they

conquered. In the caliphate, as in the Byzantine Empire, the civilization of the ancient

world went its way without serious interruption. Huge buildings and magnifi cent palaces

were constructed; ships plied the Mediterranean; Arab merchants ventured over the des-

erts and traversed the Indian Ocean; holy or learned men corresponded over thousands of

miles. The government developed effi cient systems to collect taxes, enforce the laws, and

keep the provinces in order. In the sciences the Arabs not only learned from but also went

beyond the Greeks. They translated Greek scientifi c literature: we know some of it today

only through these medieval Arabic versions. Arab geographers had a wider knowledge

of the world than anyone had possessed up to their time. Arab mathematicians developed

algebra so far beyond the Greeks as almost to be its creator (“algebra” is an Arabic word),

and in introducing the “Arabic” numerals (through their contacts with India) they made

arithmetic, which in Roman numerals had been formidably diffi cult into something that

every schoolchild could be taught.

The sixth-century emperor Justinian built the great Hagia Sophia to display his commit- ment to the Christian religion and the power of his capi- tal city, Constantinople. The church became a mosque after the Byzantine Empire fell to Muslim invaders in the fi f- teenth century, but it remains the most famous achievement of Byzantine architecture. (David Madison/Getty Images)

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23

The third segment of the ancient Greco-Roman world was Latin Christendom, which

about 700 c.e. did not look very promising. It was what was left over from the other two—

what the Byzantines were unable to hold and the Arabs were unable to con-

quer. It included only Italy (shared in part with the Byzantines), France,

Belgium, the Rhineland, and Britain. Barbarian kings were doing their best

to rule small kingdoms, but in truth all government had fallen to pieces.

Usually the invading barbarians remained a minority, eventually to be absorbed. Only in

England, and in the region immediately west of the Rhine, did the Germanic element

supersede the older Celtic and Latin. But the presence of violent invaders amid peasants

and city dwellers reduced to passivity by Roman rule, together with the disintegration of

Roman institutions that had gone on even before the invasions, left this region in chaos.

The Western barbarians, as noted, were Germanic; and the Germanic

infl uence became another distinctive contribution to the making of Europe.

Some Germans were Christian by the fourth century, but most were still

heathen when they burst into the Roman Empire. Their languages had not

been written down, but they possessed an intricate folklore and religion in which fi ghting

and heroic valor were much esteemed. Though now in a migratory phase, they were an

agricultural people who knew how to work iron, and they had a rudimentary knowledge

of the crafts of the Romans. They were organized in small tribes and had a strong sense of

tribal kinship, which (as with many similar peoples) dominated their ideas of leadership

and law. They enjoyed more freedom in their affairs than did the citizens of the Roman

Empire. Many of the tribes were roughly self-governing in that all free men, those entitled

to bear arms, met in open fi elds to hold council; and often the tribe itself elected its leader

or king. They had a strong sense of loyalty to persons, of fealty to the acknowledged king or

chief; but they had no sense of loyalty to large or general institutions. They had no sense of

the state—of any distant, impersonal, and continuing source of law and rule. Law they

regarded as the infl exible custom of each tribe. In the absence of abstract jurisprudence

or trained judges, they settled disputes by rough and ready methods. In the ordeal, for

example, a person who obstinately fl oated when thrown into water was adjudged guilty. In

trial by battle, the winner of a kind of ritualistic duel was regarded as innocent. The gods,

it was thought, would not allow wrong to prevail.

The Germans who overran the old Roman provinces found it diffi cult to maintain any

political organization at more than a local level. Security and civil order all but disappeared.

Peasant communities were at the mercy of wandering bands of habitual fi ghters. Fighters

often captured peasant villages, took them under their protection, guarded them from fur-

ther marauders, and lived off their produce. Sometimes the same great fi ghting man came

to possess many such villages, moving with his retinue of horsemen from one village to

another to support himself throughout the year. Thus originated a new distinction between

lord and servant, noble and commoner, martial and menial class. Life became local and

self-suffi cient. People ate, wore, used, and dwelled in only what they themselves and their

neighbors could produce. In contrast to the economies of the Byzantine and Islamic worlds,

Western trade died down, the cities became depopulated, money went out of circulation,

and almost nothing was bought or sold. The Roman roads fell into neglect; people often

used them as quarries for ready-cut building blocks for their own crude purposes. Western

Europe not only broke up into localized villages but also ceased to have habitual exchanges

across the Mediterranean. It lost contact with the eastern centers from which its former

civilization had always been drawn. From roughly 500 c.e. on, most of Europe fell into

what some later historians would call the “Dark Ages.”

Latin Christendom

Germanic customs

2. The Early Middle Ages: The Formation of Europe

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Chapter 1 The Rise of Europe24

The Church and the Rise of the Papacy

Only one organized institution maintained a tie with ancient civilization. Only one institu-

tion, reaching over the whole West, could receive news or dispatch its agents over the

whole area. This institution was the Christian church. Its framework still stood; its network

of bishoprics, as built up in late Roman times, remained intact except in places such as

England, where the barbarian conquest was complete.

In addition, a new type of religious institution spread rapidly with the

growth of monasteries. The serious and the sensitive, both men and women

(though not together, to be sure), rejected the savagery about them and

retired into communities of their own. Usually they were left unmolested

by rough neighbors who held them in religious awe. In a world of violence they formed

islands of quiet, peace, and contemplation. Their prayers, it was believed, were of use to

all the world, and their example might at the least arouse pangs of shame in more worldly

people. The monastic houses generally adopted the rule of St. Benedict (c. 480–543) and

were governed by an abbot. Dedicated to the same ideals, they formed unifying fi laments

throughout the chaos of the Latin West.

Bishops, abbots, and monks looked with veneration to Rome as the spot where St. Peter,

the fi rst apostle, had been martyred. The bishop of Rome corresponded with other bishops,

sent out missionaries, gave advice on doctrine when he could, and attempted to oversee the

situation throughout the Latin world as a whole. Moreover, with no emperor any longer in

Rome, the bishop took over the government and public affairs of the city. Thus the bishop of

Rome, while claiming a primacy over all Christians, was not dominated by any secular

power. In the East the great church functionaries, the patriarchs, fell under the infl uence of

the emperor who continued to rule at Constantinople. A tradition of Caesaropapism grew up

in the East; but in the West the independence of the bishop of Rome now confi rmed in prac-

tice a principle always maintained by the great churchmen of the West—the independence

of the spiritual power from the political or temporal.

The growing authority of the popes was fortifi ed by various arguments.

St. Peter, it was held, had imparted the spiritual authority given to him by

Christ himself to the Roman bishops who were his successors. This doc-

trine of the “Petrine supremacy” was based on two verses in the Bible (Mat-

thew xvi, 18–19), according to which Christ designated Peter as the head of the church,

giving him the “power of the keys” to open and close the doors of eternal salvation. As

for the pope’s temporal rule in Rome, it was affi rmed that the Emperor Constantine had

endowed the bishop with the government of the city. This “Donation of Constantine” was

accepted as historical fact from the eighth century to the fi fteenth, when it was proved to

be a forgery.

Growth of monasteries

Papal authority

THE MEDITERRANEAN WORLD about 400, 800, and 1250 c.e. Greco-Roman civilization, centered about the Mediterranean, was offi cially Christian and politically unifi ed under the Roman Empire in 400 c.e., but it broke apart into three segments in the early Middle Ages. Each segment developed its own type of life. Each segment also expanded beyond the limits of the ancient Mediterranean culture. By 1250 Latin Christendom reached to the Baltic and beyond. Greek Christendom penetrated north of the Black Sea to include the Russians. The Muslim world spread into inner Asia and Africa. In 1250, and until 1492, the Muslims, or Moors, still held the southern tip of Spain. Jews lived in varying num- bers throughout the Mediterranean world, and Jewish communities were important within each of the religious spheres on these maps.

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252. The Early Middle Ages: The Formation of Europe

About 800 C.E.

Latin Christians

Greek Christians

Muslims

About 1250 C.E.

Latin Christians

Greek Christians

Muslims

About 400 C.E.

The Roman Empire

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Chapter 1 The Rise of Europe26

It was the church that incorporated the barbarians into new forms of

social life, and when such groups embraced a more settled, civilized way of

living, it was the church that they entered. As early as about 340 c.e., the

church sent out Ulfi las to convert the Goths; his translation of the Bible

represents the fi rst writing down of any Germanic language. About 496 the king of the

Franks, Clovis, was converted to Christianity. A hundred years later, in 597, the king of

Kent in southeast England yielded to the persuasions of Augustine of Canterbury, a mis-

sionary dispatched from Rome, and the Christianization of the Anglo-Saxons gradually

followed. Missionaries from Ireland also, to which Christians of the Roman Empire had

fl ed to escape the heathen barbarians, now returned to both Britain and the Continent to

spread the gospel. By 700, after three centuries of turmoil, the borders of Christianity in

the West were again roughly what they had been in late Roman times. Then in 711, as we

have seen, the Arabs entered Spain. They crossed the Pyrenees and moved on toward cen-

tral Europe, but were stopped by a Christian and Frankish army in 732 near Tours on the

river Loire. Islam was turned back into Spain, thereby allowing the people of Western

Europe to expand their emerging Latin Christian culture.

The Empire of Charlemagne, 800–814

Among the Franks, in what is now northern France and the German Rhineland, there had

arisen a line of capable rulers of whom the greatest was Charlemagne. The Frankish kings

made it their policy to cooperate with the pope. The pope needed a protector against dep-

redations by his barbarian neighbors and against the political claims of the Byzantine

Empire upon the city of Rome. The Frankish kings, in return for protection thus offered,

won papal support to their side. This made it easier for them to control their own bishops,

who were more often seen on horseback than in the episcopal chair; and the papal alliance

helped the kings pacify their own domains and wage wars of conquest against the heathen.

In the year 800, in Rome, the pope crowned Charlemagne as emperor of the West. Frankish

king and Roman bishop both believed that if only the Roman Empire could be restored

peace and order might once more reign. Church and empire, religion and the state, were to

be as two mighty swords employed in the same holy cause.

Charlemagne crossed the Pyrenees and won back the northeastern cor-

ner of Spain to Christian rule. He overthrew and subordinated the barbarian

kings who had set themselves up in northern Italy. He sent forces down the

Danube, penetrated into Bohemia, and proceeded against some of the still

heathen Germans (the Saxons) who lived along the river Elbe, and whom he either massa-

cred or converted to Christianity. All these regions he brought within his new empire.

Except for England and Ireland, which remained outside, the borders of his empire were

coextensive with those of the Latin Christian world.

Once more, to a degree, the peoples of Western Europe were united

under an empire. But a momentous change had occurred. Its capital did not

lie in the ancient world of the Mediterranean. Its capital was now in north-

ern Europe at Aix-la-Chapelle, or Aachen, near the mouth of the Rhine. Its

ruler, Charlemagne, was a German of an ethnic group that had remained outside ancient

civilization. Its people were Germans, French, and Italians, or, more precisely, the ances-

tors from whom these nationalities would later emerge. In the Greco-Roman world the

north had always been at best provincial. Now the north became a center in its own right.

Charlemagne dispatched embassies to the Byzantine emperor at Constantinople and to

Conversion of the

barbarians

Charlemagne

Revival of learning

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27

Harun al-Rashid, the great Muslim caliph at Baghdad. In intellectual matters, too, the

north now became a capital. Centuries of violence and confusion had virtually destroyed

education and systematic learning, even for the most powerful families in Europe.

Charlemagne himself, though he understood Latin, could barely read and never learned to

write. He used his authority, however, to revive the all but forgotten ancient learning and to

spread education at least among the clergy. To his palace school came scholars from Eng-

land, Germany, France, Italy, and Spain. They wrote and spoke in Latin, the only Western

language in which complicated ideas could at the time be expressed. Disintegrating ancient

manuscripts were copied and recopied to assure a more abundant supply for study—always

by hand, but in a more rapid script than had before been used. This so-called Carolingian

minuscule evolved into the small letters of the modern Western alphabet, only the capital

letters being Roman. Meanwhile, Charlemagne sought to foster commerce by creating a

new and more reliable coinage, which was based on silver, the gold coins of the Roman

Empire having long since vanished.

Ninth-Century Invasions; Europe by 1000

In Charlemagne’s empire we fi rst see the shape of Europe as a unit of society

and culture distinct from the Mediterranean world of antiquity. The empire

did not last. New waves of invaders assailed Western Christendom in the

ninth century. The Magyars (called in Latin “Hungarians”) terrifi ed various

parts of Europe until they settled down on the middle Danube about the year 900. New Ger-

manic tribes uprooted themselves, coming this time from Scandinavia, and variously known

as Norse, Vikings, or Danes. Bursting out in all directions, they reached Kiev in Russia in

Second wave of

invaders

This image of a monastery in a medieval Spanish manuscript shows how early Christian monks became known for their learning as well as their religious contemplation and disciplined labor. (Pierpont Morgan Library/Art Resource, NY)

2. The Early Middle Ages: The Formation of Europe

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Chapter 1 The Rise of Europe28

864, discovered Iceland in 874, and even touched America in 1000. In the Christian world

they assaulted the coasts and pushed up the rivers but settled in considerable numbers only

in the Danelaw in England and in Normandy in France. Meanwhile the Arabs raided the

shores of France and Italy and occupied Sicily. Nowhere was the power of government

strong enough to ward off such attacks. Everywhere the harassed local population found its

own means of defense or, that failing, was slaughtered, robbed, or carried off into slavery.

Gradually the second wave of invaders was incorporated as the fi rst had been, by the

same process of conversion to Christianity. By the year 1000 this process was nearly com-

plete. In 1001 the pope sent a golden crown to the Magyars to crown St. Stephen as their

fi rst king, thus bringing Hungary within the orbit of the Latin West. Poland, Bohemia, and

the Scandinavian homelands of the Norse were Christianized during the same era. In older

Christian countries, such as France, the last remote and isolated rustics—the “heathen”

who lived in the “heath”—were fi nally ferreted out by missionaries and brought within the

Christian fold. In Christian countries Christianity now permeated every corner, and (despite

the local differences that existed everywhere) the historic peoples of western Europe had

come together within the spreading religious and cultural system of the Latin church.

Meanwhile East and West continued to drift apart. The refusal of

Greek patriarchs at Constantinople to recognize the claims to primacy of

the bishop of Rome, whom they regarded as a kind of Western barbarian,

and the refusal of the Roman pontiff to acknowledge the political preten-

sions of the Byzantine Empire, led to the Great Schism of East and West.

This schism, after developing for three centuries, became defi nite in 1054. It divided the

Christian world into the Latin or Roman Catholic and the Greek Orthodox churches. It was

from Constantinople that Christianity reached the peoples of Russia. The Russians, like the

Balkan peoples, remained out of contact with most of Europe during the centuries when

spiritual and intellectual contacts were carried through the clergy. They believed, indeed,

that the Latin West was evil, heretical, and unholy. The Latin West, at the same time, by

the schism, cut one more of its ties with antiquity and emerged more clearly as an indepen-

dent center of its own civilization.

By the year 1000, or soon thereafter, the entity that we call Europe had come into

existence. From the turbulence that followed the collapse of the Greco-Roman civilization

had issued the peoples and the countries that would evolve into modern

Europe. A kingdom of France had emerged, adjoining the great ill-defi ned

bulk of Germany to the east. There were small Christian kingdoms in north-

ern Spain and a number of city-states in the Italian peninsula. In the north

there were now a kingdom of England and a kingdom of Scotland; Denmark, Norway, and

Sweden had also taken form. In the east rose the three great kingdoms of Poland, Bohemia,

and Hungary, the fi rst two predominantly Slavic, Hungary predominantly Magyar, but all

were Latin and Catholic in culture and religion, and Western in orientation. The east Slavs,

or Russians, and the Slavs and other peoples of the Balkan peninsula also formed king-

doms of their own. Their languages and religion were diverging from the cultures of

western Europe. Christianized by Byzantine missionaries, they were Greek and Orthodox

in culture and religion, and oriented toward Constantinople.

The civilization of western Europeans in the year 1000 was still unimpressive in com-

parison to the more polished circles of Byzantium or Baghdad. It might still seem that the

West would suffer more than the East from their separation. But the West began at this

time to experience new social and economic activity, ushering in the European civilization

of the High Middle Ages.

“Great Schism of East

and West”

Emerging Europe

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29

3. THE HIGH MIDDLE AGES: SECULAR CIVILIZATION

Agriculture and the Feudal System after 1000

Some historical periods are so dynamic that a person who lives to a mature age can remem-

ber sweeping changes that have come in one’s own lifetime. Such a time began in Europe

in the eleventh century. People could see new towns rise and grow before their eyes. They

could observe new undertakings in commerce or government. Most of the cities that

Europe was to know before the modern industrial era sprang up between about 1050 and

1200. The population of western Europe, which had been sparse even in Roman days,

and which was even sparser after 500, suddenly began to grow denser about the year 1000,

and it expanded steadily for two or three hundred years. The people of the High Middle

Ages did not develop a new conception of progress because their minds were set upon

timeless values and personal salvation in another world, but the period was nevertheless

one of rapid progress in nonreligious or “secular” matters. Much was created that remained

fundamental for European cultures far into modern times.

The new era was made possible by a growth in population that went

along with agricultural changes. After the Norse and Magyar inroads had

stopped, Europe was spared the assaults of other invaders. There came to be

more security of life and limb. Farmers could plant with more confi dence

that they would reap, and people could build houses with the expectation of passing them

on to their children. Hence there was more planting and building. Sometime before the

year 1000 a heavier plow was invented, which cut a deeper furrow. Better methods of

harnessing horses had been found than the ancients had ever known. The Romans had con-

tinued simply to throw a yoke over a horse’s neck, so that the animal in pulling a weight

easily choked. Europeans, before the year 1000, began to use a horse collar that rested

on the animal’s shoulders. The single horse could pull a greater load, or several horses

could now for the fi rst time be hitched in tandem. The amount of available animal power

was thus multiplied, at a time when animals were the main source of power other than

human muscle. Windmills, unknown to the ancients, were developed in the Low Countries

about this time. They too offered a new source of power. Thus at the very beginning of a

specifi cally “European” history, one may detect characteristics of subsequent European

civilization—a search for technological invention, a quest for new sources of energy.

With such labor-saving devices people continued to work very hard, but they obtained

more results by their efforts. Probably the use of such inventions, together with the infl u-

ence of the Christian clergy, accounts for the gradual disappearance of slavery from Europe

and its replacement by the less-abject and less-degrading status of serfdom. It is true that

medieval Christians, when they could, continued to enslave whites as they were later to do

with blacks. Usually such slaves were captives in war, taken from tribes not yet converted

to Christianity, and sometimes exported as a form of merchandise to the Byzantine and

Muslim worlds. As the successive European peoples became Christianized, the supply of

non-Christian slaves dried up. Medieval Christians did not enslave each other, nor was

slavery essential to any important form of production.

Not only did population increase, and work become more productive, but also groups of

people became less isolated from one another. Communications improved. The roads

remained poor or nonexistent, but bridges were built across European rivers, and settlers

fi lled in the wildernesses that had formerly separated the inhabited areas. Trees were felled,

land was cleared, and the rural population clustered in village communities. The “nucleated”

Agriculture and

population growth

3. The High Middle Ages: Secular Civilization

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Chapter 1 The Rise of Europe30

village gave more security, more contact between families, and readier access to the black-

smith or the priest. It also made possible a communally organized agriculture.

Better ways of using land were introduced in the “three-fi eld” system,

which spread to almost every region where cereal crops were the staple. In

this system the peasant village divided its arable fi elds into three parts. The

fi rst part was then sown with one crop, such as wheat; a second part with

another, such as barley; and the third was left to lie fallow. The three parts were rotated

from year to year. Thus soil exhaustion was avoided at a time when fertilizers were

unknown. Formerly, half or less of the available fi elds had been cultivated at any one time.

With the three-fi eld system two-thirds of the land came into annual use. This change, rein-

forced by better plowing and more effective employment of animals, led to a huge increase

in the supply of food.

The peace and personal security necessary to agriculture were also

advanced, in the absence of effective public authority, by the growth of

institutions that we know as “feudalism.” Feudalism was intricate and

diverse, but in essence it was a means of carrying on some kind of govern-

ment on a local basis where no organized state existed. After the collapse of Charlemagne’s

empire the real authority fell into the hands of persons who were most often called “counts.”

The count was the most important man of a region covering a few hundred square miles.

To build up his own position, and strengthen himself for war against other counts, he tried

to keep the peace and maintain control over the lesser lords in his county, those whose pos-

sessions extended over a few hundred or a few thousand acres. These lesser lords accepted

or were forced to accept his protection. They became his vassals, and he became their

“lord.” The lord and vassal relation was one of reciprocal duties. The lord protected the

vassal and assured him justice and fi rm tenure of his land. If two vassals of the same lord

disputed the possession of the same village, the lord decided the case, sitting in council (or

“court”) with all his vassals assembled and judging according to the common memory or

customary law of the district. If a vassal died young, leaving only small children, the lord

took the family under his “wardship” or guardianship, guaranteeing that the rightful heirs

would inherit in due time. Correspondingly the vassal agreed to serve the lord as a fi ghting

man for a certain number of days in the year. The vassal also had to advise and serve the

lord in other ways, including service in his court for the judging of disputes. Usually he

owed no money or material payment; but if the lord had to be ransomed from captivity, or

when the lord’s children married, the vassal paid a fee. The vassal also paid a fee on inher-

iting an estate, and the income of estates under wardship went to the lord. Thus the lord

collected sporadic revenues with which to fi nance his somewhat primitive government.

This feudal scheme gradually spread across northern Europe. Lords at

the level of counts became in turn the vassals of dukes. In the year 987 the

great lords of France chose Hugh Capet as their king and became his vas-

sals. The kings of France enjoyed little real power for another 200 years,

but the descendants of Hugh occupied their throne for eight centuries, until the French

Revolution. Similarly the magnates of Germany elected a king in 911; in 962 the German

king was crowned emperor, as Charlemagne had been before him; thus originated the Holy

Roman Empire, of which much will be heard in the following chapters.

England in these formative centuries did not choose a king by election.

England was conquered in 1066 by the Duke of Normandy, William. The

Normans (the Norse reshaped by a century of Christian and French infl u-

ences) imposed upon England a centralized and effi cient type of feudalism

Three-fi eld system

Feudalism

Capetian kings

The Normans in

England

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31

that they had developed in Normandy. In England, from an early date, the king and his

offi cials therefore had considerable power, which led to more civil peace and personal

security than on the Continent. Within the framework of a strong monarchy self-governing

institutions could eventually develop with a minimum of disorder.

The notable feature of feudalism was its mutual or reciprocal character. In this it dif-

fered from the old Roman imperial principle, by which the emperor had been a majestic

and all-powerful sovereign. Under feudalism no one was sovereign. King and people, lord

and vassal, were joined in a kind of contract. Each owed something to the other. If one

defaulted, the obligation ceased. If a vassal refused his due services, the king had the right

to enforce compliance. If the king violated the rights of the vassal, the vassals could join

together against him. The king was supposed to act with the advice of the vassals, who

formed his council or court. If the vassals believed the king to be exceeding his lawful

powers, they could impose terms upon him. Although feudalism was always a hierarchical

system of lords and vassals, its mutual or contractual character contributed to later

European ideas of constitutional government.

Feudalism applied in the strict sense only to the military or noble class.

Below the feudal world lay the vast mass of the peasantry. In the village, the

lowliest vassal of a higher noble was lord over his own subjects. The village,

with its people and surrounding farmlands, constituted a “manor,” the estate

of a lord. In the eleventh century most people of the manor were serfs. They were “bound to

the soil” in that they could not leave the manor without the lord’s permission. Few wanted

to leave anyway, at a time when the world beyond the village was unknown and dangerous,

The manor and serfs

Most people in the Middle Ages worked in the fi elds, coping like the peasant in this late medieval illustration with the seasons, soil, seeds, and animals that shaped agricultural life. (British Library Board/The Bridgeman Art Library)

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Chapter 1 The Rise of Europe32

when food supplies were precarious, and when other lands were fi lled at best only with other

similar manors. The lord, for his part, could not expropriate the villagers or drive them away.

He owed them protection and the administration of justice. They in turn worked his fi elds

and gave him part of the produce of their own. No money changed hands, because there was

virtually no money in circulation. The manorial system was the agricultural base on which a

ruling class was supported. It supported also the clergy, for the church held much land in the

form of manors. It gave the protection from physical violence and the framework of com-

munal living without which the peasants could not grow crops or tend livestock.

With the rise of agricultural productivity, lords and even a few peasants began to

produce a surplus, which they might sell if only they could fi nd a market. The country was

thus able to produce enough food to support a town population. And since population grew

with the increase of the food supply, a surplus rural population also began to exist. Restless

spirits among the peasants now wanted to get away from the manor. And many went off

to the new towns.

The Rise of Towns and Commerce

We have seen how the ancient cities had decayed. In the ninth and tenth centuries, with

few exceptions, there were none left in western Europe. Here and there one would fi nd a

cluster of population around the headquarters of a bishop, a great count, or a king.

But there were no commercial centers. There was no merchant class. The simple crafts—

weaving, metalworking, harness making—were carried on locally on the manors. Rarely,

an itinerant trader might appear with such semiprecious goods as he could carry for long

distances on donkeys—Eastern silks, or a few spices for the wealthy. Among these early

traders Jews were often important, because Judaism, part of the Byzantine and Arabic

worlds as well as the Western, offered one of the few channels of communication among

the different Mediterranean cultures; and many Jewish traders were connected through

long-distance commercial networks.

Long-distance trading was in fact the fi rst economic activity to revive

and develop. The city of Venice was founded about 570 when refugees

fl ed from invaders and settled in its islands. The Venetians, as time went

on, brought Eastern goods up the Adriatic and sold them to traders com-

ing down from central Europe. In Flanders in the north, in what is now Belgium, manu-

facturers of woolen cloth emerged. Flemish woolens were of a unique quality, owing to

peculiarities of the atmosphere and the skill of the weavers. They could not be duplicated

elsewhere. Nor could Eastern goods be procured except through the Venetians—or the

Genoese or Pisans. Such goods could not possibly be produced locally, yet they were in

demand wherever they became known. Merchants traveled in increasing numbers to sell

them. Money came back into more general circulation; where it came from is not quite

clear, since there was little mining of gold or silver until the end of the Middle Ages.

Merchants began to establish permanent headquarters, settling within the deserted walls of

ghostly Roman towns or near the seat of a lord or ecclesiastic, whose numerous retainers

might become customers. Craftsmen moved from the overpopulated manors to these same

growing centers, where they might produce wares that the lords or merchants would wish

to buy. The process, once started, tended to snowball: the more people settled in such an

agglomeration, the more they needed food brought to them from the country; and the more

craftsmen left the villages, the more the country people, lords and serfs had to obtain cloth-

ing and simple tools and utensils from the towns. Hence a busy local trade developed also.

Long-distance trade

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By 1100, or not long thereafter, such centers existed all over Europe, from the Baltic

to Italy, from England as far east as Bohemia. Usually there was one about every 20 or

30 miles. The smallest towns had only a few hundred inhabitants; the larger

ones had two or three thousand, or sometimes more. Each carried on a local

exchange with its immediate countryside and purveyed goods of more dis-

tant origin to local consumers. But their importance was by no means

merely economic. What made them “towns” in the full sense of the word was their acquisi-

tion of political rights.

The merchants and craftsmen who lived in the towns did not wish to remain, like the

country people, subject to neighboring feudal lords. At worst, the feudal lords regarded

merchants as a convenient source of ready money; they might hold them up on the road,

plunder their mule trains, collect tolls at river crossings, or extort cash by offering “protec-

tion.” At best, the most well-meaning feudal lord could not supervise the affairs of mer-

chants, for the feudal and customary law knew nothing of commercial problems. The

traders in the course of their business developed a “law merchant” of their own, having to

do with money and moneychanging, debt and bankruptcy, contracts, invoices, and bills of

lading. They wished to have their own means of apprehending thieves, runaway debtors,

or sellers of fraudulent goods. They strove, therefore, to get recognition for their own law,

their own courts, their own judges and magistrates. They wished, too, to govern their

towns themselves and to avoid payment of fees or taxes to nearby nobles.

Everywhere in Latin Christendom, along about 1100, the new towns struggled to free

themselves from the encircling feudalism and to set themselves up as self-governing little

republics. Where the towns were largest and closest together—along the highly urban-

ized arteries of the trade routes, in north Italy, on the upper Danube and Rhine rivers, in

Flanders, or on the Baltic coast—they emancipated themselves the most fully. Venice,

Genoa, Pisa, Florence, Milan became virtually independent city-states, each governing a

substantial tract of its surrounding country. In Flanders also, towns like Bruges and Ghent

dominated their localities. Along the upper Danube, the Rhine, the North Sea, the Baltic,

many towns became imperial free cities within the Holy Roman Empire,

each a kind of small republic owing allegiance to no one except the dis-

tant and usually ineffectual emperor. Nuremberg, Frankfurt, Augsburg,

Strasbourg, Hamburg, and Lübeck were free cities of this kind. In France

and England, where the towns in the twelfth century were somewhat less powerful, they

obtained less independence but received charters of liberties from the king. By these

charters they were assured the right to have their own town governments and offi cials,

their own courts and law, and to pay their own kind of taxes to the king in lieu of ordinary

feudal obligations.

Often towns formed leagues or urban federations, joining forces to repress banditry

or piracy or to deal with ambitious monarchs or predatory nobles. The most famous such

league was the Hanse; it was formed mainly of German towns, fought wars under its own

banner, and dominated the commerce of the North Sea and the Baltic until after 1300.

Similar tendencies of the towns to form political leagues, or to act independently in war

and diplomacy, were suppressed by the kings in England, France, and Spain.

The fact that Italy, Germany, and the Netherlands were commercially more advanced

than the Atlantic countries in the Middle Ages, and so had a more intensive town life, was

to be one cause (out of many) preventing political unifi cation in the early modern era. Not

until 1860 or 1870 were nationwide states created in this region. In the west, where more

of a balance was kept between town and country, the towns were absorbed into larger

Growth of towns

Town charters

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Chapter 1 The Rise of Europe34

territorial governments that were arising under the kings. This early difference between

central and western Europe would later shape much of Europe’s history in modern times.

The liberties won by the towns were corporate liberties. Each town was

a collective entity. The people in towns did not possess individual rights,

but only the rights that followed from being a resident of a particular town.

Among these were personal liberty; no townsman could be a serf, and fugi-

tive serfs who lived over a year in a town were generally deemed to be free. But townspeo-

ple did not seek individual liberty in the modern sense. The world was still too unsettled

for the individual to act alone. Townspeople wanted to join together in a compact body and

to protect themselves by all sorts of regulations and controls. The most obvious evidence

of this communal solidarity was the wall within which most towns were enclosed. The

citizens in time of trouble looked to their own defense. As the towns grew, they built new

walls farther out. In many European cities today one may still see remains of walls that

were in use from the tenth to the thirteenth centuries.

Economic solidarity was of more day-to-day importance. The towns required neigh-

boring peasants to sell foodstuffs only in the town marketplace. They thus protected their

food supply against competition from other towns. Or they forbade the practice of certain

trades in the country; this was to oblige peasants to make purchases in town and to protect

the jobs and livelihood of the town craftsmen. They put up tariffs and tolls on the goods of

other towns brought within their own walls. Or they levied special fees on merchants from

outside who did business in the town. In Italy and Germany they often coined their own

money; and the typical town fi xed the rates at which various moneys should be exchanged.

The medieval towns, in short, at the time of their greatest liberty, followed in a local way

the same policies of protectionism and exclusiveness that national governments were often

to follow in modern times.

Within each town merchants and craftsmen formed associations called

“guilds,” whose “masters” supervised the affairs of a specifi c trade or craft.

Merchants formed a merchant guild. Stonemasons, carpenters, barbers,

dyers, goldsmiths, coppersmiths, weavers, hatters, tailors, shoemakers,

grocers, and apothecaries formed craft guilds of their own. The guilds served a public

purpose. They provided that work should be done by reliable and experienced persons,

thereby protecting people from the pitfalls of shoddy garments, clumsy barbers, poison-

ous drugs, or defective and poorly built houses. They also provided a means of vocational

education and marked out a career for young men. Women also worked in many trades

and could belong to guilds; they were particularly numerous in certain guilds of the cloth-

ing trades. Women were nevertheless excluded from some of the guilds’ social activities,

and they were not granted the political privileges that men received as they moved up

through the ranks of the guild hierarchy. Typically a boy became an apprentice to some

master, learned the trade, and lived with and was supported by the master’s family for a

term of years, such as seven. Then he became a journeyman, a qualifi ed and recognized

worker, who might work for any master at a stated wage. Most workers remained journey-

men throughout their lives, especially in the later Middle Ages. The guild system enabled

some workers to improve their social position, however; and a lucky young man might

eventually become a master, open his own shop, hire journeymen, and take apprentices.

So long as the towns were growing, a boy had some chance to become a master; but as

early as 1300 many guilds were becoming frozen, and the masters were increasingly chary

of admitting new persons to their own status. Although widows often continued to work

in the trades or artisanal crafts of their husbands, women almost never became masters.

Corporate liberties

Guilds

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35

From the beginning, in any case, it was an important function of the guilds to protect their

own members. The masters, assembled together, preserved their reputation by regulating

the quality of their product. They divided work among themselves and fi xed the terms of

apprenticeship, the wages to be paid to journeymen, and the prices at which their goods

must be sold. Or they took collective steps to meet or keep out the competition of the same

trade in nearby towns.

Whether among individuals within the town itself, or as between town and country, or

between town and town, the spirit of the medieval economy was to prevent competition.

Risk, adventure, and speculation were not wanted. Almost no one thought it proper to

work for monetary profi t. The few who did, big merchants trading over large areas, met

with suspicion and disapproval wherever they went.

The towns tried in many ways to subject the peasants’ interests to their

own but nevertheless had an emancipating infl uence on the country. Some

peasants were able to escape from serfdom by settling in a town. But the

town infl uence was more widespread and far out of proportion to the rela-

tively small number of people who could become town dwellers. The growth of towns

increased the demand for food. Lords began to clear new lands, and western Europeans set

about developing a kind of internal frontier. Formerly villages had been separated by dark

tracts of roadless woods, in which wolves roamed freely, shadowed by the gnomes, elves,

and fairies of popular folklore. Now pioneers with axes cleared farmlands and built vil-

lages. The lords who usually supervised such operations (since their serfs were not slaves,

and could not be moved at will) offered freer terms to entice peasants to settle on the new

lands. It was less easy for the lord of an old village to hold his people in serfdom when in

an adjacent village, within a few hours’ walk, the people were free.

The peasants, moreover, were now able to obtain a little money by selling produce

in town. The lords wanted money because the towns were producing more articles that

money could buy. It became common for peasants to obtain personal freedom, holding

their own lands, in return for an annual money payment to the lord for an indefi nite period

into the future. As early as the twelfth century serfdom began to disappear in northern

France and southern England, and by the fi fteenth century it had disappeared from most

Towns and the decline

of serfdom

The crafts and trade in medieval towns were dominated by the guilds, whose symbols conveyed the nature of their work. The sheep on this emblem represents the wool guild in Florence. (Alinari/Art Resource, NY)

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Chapter 1 The Rise of Europe36

of western Europe. The peasant could now, in law, move freely about. But the manorial

organization remained; the peasant owed dues and fees to the lord and was still under his

legal jurisdiction.

The Growth of Monarchies and Government Institutions

Meanwhile the kings were busy, each trying to build his kingdom into an

organized monarchy that would outlast his life. Monarchy became heredi-

tary; the king inherited his position like any other feudal lord or possessor

of an estate. Inheritance of the crown made for peace and order, for elec-

tions under conditions of the time were usually turbulent and disputed, and where the older

Germanic principle of elective monarchy remained alive, as in the Holy Roman Empire,

there was periodic commotion. The kings sent out executive offi cers to supervise their

interests throughout their kingdoms. The kings of England, adopting an old Anglo-Saxon

practice, had a sheriff in each of the 40 shires; the kings of France created similar offi cers

who were called bailiffs. The kings likewise instituted royal courts, under royal justices, to

decide property disputes and repress crime. This assertion of legal jurisdiction, together

with the military might necessary to enforce judgments upon obstinate nobles, became a

main pillar of the royal power. In England especially, and in lesser degree elsewhere, the

kings required local inhabitants to assist royal judges in the discovery of relevant facts in

particular cases. They put them on oath to declare what they knew of events in their own

neighborhood. It is from this enforced association of private persons with royal offi cers

that the court jury developed.

The kings needed money to pay for their governmental machinery or

to carry on war with other kings. Taxation, as known in the Roman Empire,

was quite unknown to the Germanic and feudal tradition. In the feudal

scheme each person was responsible only for the customary fees that arose on stated occa-

sions. The king, like other lords, was supposed to live on his own income—on the revenue

of manors that he owned himself, the proceeds of estates temporarily under his wardship,

or the occasional fees paid to him by his vassals. No king, even for the best of reasons,

could simply decree a new tax and collect it. At the same time, as the use of money became

more common, the kings had to assure themselves of a money income. As the towns grew

up, with a new kind of wealth and a new source of money income, they agreed to make

stipulated payments in return for their royal charters.

The royal demands for money and the claims to exercise legal jurisdiction were

regarded as innovations. They were constantly growing and sometimes were a source of

abuse. They met with frequent resistance in all countries. A famous case historically

(though somewhat commonplace in its own day) was that of Magna Carta in England in

1215, when a group of English lords and high churchmen, joined by representatives of the

city of London, required King John to confi rm and guarantee their historic liberties.

The king, as has been said, like any lord, was supposed to act in

council or court with his vassals. The royal council became the egg out

of which departments of government were hatched—such as the royal

judiciary, exchequer, and military command. From it also was hatched the

institution of parliaments. The kings had always, in a way, held great parleys or “talks”

(the Latin parliamentum meant simply a “talking”) with their chief retainers. In the twelfth and thirteenth centuries the growth of towns added a new element to European life. To the

lords and bishops was now added a burgher class, which, if of far inferior dignity, was too

Changes in

monarchical rule

Taxation

Origins of

parliaments

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37

stubborn, free-spirited, and well furnished with money to be overlooked. When representa-

tives of the towns began to be summoned to the king’s great talks, along with lords and

clergy, parliaments may be said to have come into being.

Parliaments, in this sense, sprouted all over Europe in the thirteenth century. Nothing

shows better the similarity of institutions in Latin Christendom, or the inadequacy of trac-

ing the history of any one country by itself. The new assemblies were called cortes in Spain, diets in Germany, Estates General or provincial estates in France, parliaments in the British

Isles. Usually they are referred to generically as “estates,” the word “parliament” being

reserved for Britain, but in origin they were all essentially the same.

The kings called these assemblies as a means of publicizing and strengthening the

royal rule. They found it more convenient to explain their policies, or to ask for money, to

a large gathering brought together for that purpose than to have a hundred offi cials make

local explanations and strike local bargains in a hundred different places. The kings did not

recognize, nor did the assemblies claim, any right of the parliament to dictate to the king

and his government. But usually the king invited the parliament to state grievances; his

action upon them was the beginning of parliamentary legislation.

The parliaments represented neither the “nation” nor the “people” nor

yet the individual citizen, but they embodied the “estates of the realm,” the

great collective interests of the country. The fi rst and highest estate was the

clergy; the second was the landed or noble class; to these older ruling

groups were added, as a “third estate,” the burghers of the chartered towns. Quite com-

monly these three types of people sat separately as three distinct chambers. But the pattern

varied from country to country. In England, Poland, and Hungary the clergy as a whole

ceased to be represented; only the bishops came, sitting with lay magnates in an upper

house. Eventually the burghers dropped out in Poland, Bohemia, and Hungary, leaving the

landed aristocracy in triumph in eastern Europe. In Castile and Württemberg, on the other

hand, the noble estate eventually refused to attend parliament, leaving the townspeople and

clergy in the assemblies. In some countries—in Scandinavia, Switzerland, and in the

French Estates General—even peasants were allowed to have delegates.

In England the Parliament developed eventually in a distinctive way.

After a long period of uncertainty there came to be two houses, known as

the Lords and the Commons. The Lords, as in Hungary or Poland, included

both great prelates and lay magnates. The House of Commons developed

features not found on the Continent. Lesser landholders, the people who elsewhere counted

as small nobles, sat in the same House of Commons with representatives of the towns. This

mingling of classes in England, the willingness of townsmen to follow the leadership of

the gentry, and of the gentry to respect the interests of townsmen, helped to root represen-

tative institutions in England more deeply than in other countries during the medieval era.

Moreover, England was a small country in the Middle Ages. There were no provincial or

local parliamentary bodies (as in France, the Holy Roman Empire, or Poland) which might

jealously cut into the powers of the central body or with which the king could make local

arrangements without violating the principle of representative government. And fi nally,

as a reason for the growing strength of Parliament in England, the elected members of the

House of Commons very early obtained the power to commit their constituents. If they voted a tax, those who elected them had to pay it. The king, in order to get matters decided,

insisted that the votes be binding. Constituents were not allowed to repudiate the vote of

their deputies, nor to punish or harass them when they came home, as often happened in

other countries. Parliament thus exercised power as well as rights.

The three estates

England’s Parliament

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Chapter 1 The Rise of Europe38

In summary, the three centuries of the High Middle Ages laid foundations both for

order and for freedom. Slavery was defunct and serfdom was expiring. Politically, the

multitude of free chartered towns, the growth of juries in some places, and the rise of

parliaments everywhere provided means by which peoples could take some part in their

governments. The ancient civilizations had never created a free political unit larger than

the city-state. The Greeks had never carried democracy beyond the confi nes within which

people could meet in person, nor had the Romans devised means by which, in a large

state, the governed could share any responsibilities with an offi cial bureaucracy. The

ancients had never developed the idea of representative government, or of government

by duly elected and authorized representatives acting at a distance from home. The idea is

by no means as obvious or simple as it looks. It fi rst appeared in the realms of medieval

European monarchies, and, after much subsequent development, it would become a funda-

mental principle for political systems in most of the modern world.

4. THE HIGH MIDDLE AGES: THE CHURCH

So far in our account of the High Middle Ages we have told the story of Hamlet without

speaking of the Prince of Denmark, for we have left aside the church, except, indeed, when

some mention of it could not be avoided. In the real life of the time the church was omni-

present. Religion permeated every sphere of political, social, and cultural life. In feudalism

the mutual duties of lord and vassal were confi rmed by religious oaths, and bishops and

abbots, as holders of lands, became feudal personages themselves. In the monarchies, the

king was crowned by the chief churchman of his kingdom, adjured to rule with justice

and piety, and anointed with holy oils. In the towns, guilds served as lay religious brother-

hoods; each guild chose a patron saint and marched in the streets on holy days. For amuse-

ment the townspeople watched religious dramas, the morality and miracle plays in which

religious themes were enacted. The rising town, if it harbored a bishop, took special care

to erect a new cathedral. Years of effort and of religious fervor produced the Gothic cathe-

drals that still stand as the best-known memorials of medieval civilization. Intellectual life

was also closely tied to the church, so that religious thinkers shaped the main philosophical

debates of the era, and the most infl uential writers were clergymen.

The Development of the Medieval Church and Papacy

If, however, we turn back to the tenth century, the troubled years before

1000, we fi nd the church in as dubious a condition as everything else. It

was fragmented and localized. Every bishop went his own way. Though

the clergy was the only literate class, many of the clergy themselves could

not read and write. Christian belief was mixed with the old pagan magic and superstition,

and most Christians knew nothing about the theology that had shaped the traditions of the

Catholic church. The monasteries were in decay. Priests often lived in a concubinage that

was generally condoned. It was customary for them to marry, so that they had recognized

children, to whom they intrigued to pass on their churchly position. Powerful laymen

often dominated their ecclesiastical neighbors, with the big lords appointing the bishops

and the little ones appointing the parish priests. When people thought about Rome at

all, they could barely imagine a place that was legendary and far away; but the bishop

of Rome, or pope, had no infl uence and was treated in unseemly fashion by nobles in

his own city.

The church in crisis

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39

The Roman Catholic church is in fact unrecognizable in the jumble of the tenth cen-

tury. So far at least as human effort was concerned, it was virtually created in the eleventh

century along with the other institutions of the High Middle Ages.

The impulse to reform came from many quarters. Sometimes a secular

ruler undertook to correct conditions in his own domains. For this purpose

he asserted a strict control over his clergy. In 962 the Holy Roman Empire

was proclaimed. This empire, like the Carolingian and Roman empires that it was sup-

posed to continue, was in theory coterminous with Latin Christendom itself and endowed

with a special mission to preserve and extend the Christian faith. Neither in France nor in

England (nor, when they became Christian states, in Spain, Hungary, Poland, or Scandi-

navia) was this claim of the Holy Roman Empire ever acknowledged. But the empire did

for a time embrace Italy as well as Germany. The fi rst emperors, in the tenth and elev-

enth centuries, denouncing the conditions of the church in Rome, strove to make the pope

their appointee.

At the same time a reform movement arose from spiritual sources. Serious Christians

took matters into their own hands. They founded a new monastery at Cluny in France,

which soon had many affi liated houses. It was their purpose to purify monastic life and

to set a higher Christian ideal to which all clergy and laity might aspire. To rid them-

selves of immediate local pressures, the greed, narrowness, ignorance, family ambition,

Reform efforts

500–300 B.C.E. Creative era of Classical Greek Civilization: Plato, Aristotle

46 B.C.E. Roman Republic conquers Greece

45–31 B.C.E. Roman Republic evolves into the Roman Empire

c. 26–29 C.E. Jesus is active in Palestine; beginnings of Christianity

306–337 Roman Emperor Constantine: toleration of Christianity

c. 420 St. Augustine writes City of God

476 End of Roman Empire in the West

450–750 Roman Catholic Church gains converts and infl uence in Western Europe

610–632 Prophet Muhammad teaches the new religion of Islam

635–750 Islam spreads across Middle East, North Africa, and Spain

800 Coronation of Emperor Charlemagne; the Carolingian Empire

1000–1200 Improvements in European agriculture and rise of towns

1054 Schism of Roman Catholic Church and Orthodox Eastern Church

1095–1099 First Christian Crusade in Palestine

1100–1200 Arabic and Greek science enters European Culture

1147–1221 Second-Fifth Christian Crusades

1198–1216 Pope Innocent III: height of Medieval Papacy

1100–1300 Development of Universities and Scholasticism

1267–1273 Thomas Aquinas writes the Summa Theologica

CHRONOLOGY OF NOTABLE EVENTS, 500 B.C.E.–1300 C.E.

4. The High Middle Ages: The Church

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Chapter 1 The Rise of Europe40

and self-satisfi ed inertia that were the main causes of corruption, the Cluniacs refused to

recognize any authority except that of Rome itself. Thus, at the very time when conditions

in Rome were at their worst, Christians throughout Europe built up the prestige of Rome,

of the idea of Rome, as a means to raise all Latin Christendom from its depths.

As for the popes in Rome, those who preserved any independence of judgment or

respect for their own offi ce, it was their general plan to free themselves from the Roman

mobs and aristocrats without falling into dependence upon the Holy Roman Emperor. In

1059 Pope Nicholas II issued a decree providing that future popes should be elected by the

cardinals, who at that time, were the priests of churches in the city of Rome or bishops of

neighboring dioceses. By entrusting the choice of future popes to them, Pope Nicholas

hoped to exclude all infl uence from outside the clergy itself. Popes have been elected by

cardinals ever since, though not always without infl uence from outside.

One of the fi rst popes so elected was Gregory VII, known also as

Hildebrand, a dynamic and strong-willed man who was pope from 1073 to

1085. He had been in touch with the Cluniac reformers, and dreamed of a

reformed and reinvigorated Europe under the universal guidance of the

Roman pontiff. Gregory believed that the church should stand apart from worldly society,

that it should judge and guide all human actions, and that a pope had the supreme power to

judge and punish kings and emperors if he deemed them sinful. His ideal was a world

church offi cered by a single-minded and disciplined clergy, centralized under a single

authority. He began by insisting that the clergy free itself of worldly involvements.

He required married priests to put aside their wives and families. Celibacy of the clergy,

never generally established in the Greek Orthodox church, and later rejected by Protes-

tants in the West, became the rule for the Roman Catholic priesthood. Gregory insisted

also that no ecclesiastic might receive offi ce through appointment by a layman. In his

view only clergy might institute or infl uence clergy, for the clergy must be independent

and self-contained.

Gregory soon faced a battle with that other aspirant to universal suprem-

acy and a sacred mission, the Holy Roman Emperor, who at this time was

Henry IV. In Germany the bishops and abbots possessed a great deal of the

land, which they held and governed under the emperor as feudal magnates

in their own right. To the emperor it was vitally important to have his own men, as reliable

vassals, in these great positions. Hence in Germany “lay investiture” had become very

common. Lay investiture meant the practice by which a layman, the emperor, conferred

upon the new bishop the signs of his spiritual authority, the ring and the staff. Gregory pro-

hibited lay investiture. He supported the German bishops and nobles when they rebelled

against Henry, but the emperor remained obstinate. Gregory then excommunicated him,

that is, outlawed him from Christian society by forbidding any priest to give him the sac-

raments. Henry, baffl ed, sought out the pope at Canossa in Italy to do penance. “To go to

Canossa” in later times became a byword for submission to the will of Rome.

In 1122, after both original contenders had died, a compromise on the matter of lay

investiture was effected by which bishops recognized the emperor as their feudal head but

looked to Rome for spiritual authority. But the struggle between popes and emperors went

on unabated. The magnates of Germany, lay lords as well as bishops, often allied with the

pope to preserve their own feudal liberties from the emperor. The emperor in Germany

was never able to consolidate his domains as did the kings in England and France. The

unwillingness of lords and churchmen (and of towns also, as we have seen) to let the

emperors build up an effective government left its mark permanently upon Europe in two

Gregory VII

Lay investiture

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41

ways. It contributed to the centralization of Latin Christendom under Rome, while it

blocked the development of a more unifi ed monarchical state in central Europe.

The height of the medieval papacy came with Innocent III, whose

pontifi cate lasted from 1198 to 1216. Innocent virtually realized Gregory’s

dream of a unifi ed Christian world. He intervened in politics everywhere.

He was recognized as a supreme arbiter. At his word, a king of France took a wife, a king

of England accepted an unwanted archbishop, a king of León put aside the cousin whom

he had married, and a claimant to the crown of Hungary deferred to his rival. The kings of

England, Aragon, and Portugal acknowledged him as feudal overlord within their realms.

Huge revenues now fl owed to Rome from all over Latin Christendom, and an enormous

bureaucracy worked there to dispatch the voluminous business of the papal court. As kings

struggled to repress civil rebellion, so Innocent and his successors struggled to repress her-

esy, which, defi ned as doctrine at variance with that of the church at large, was becoming

alarmingly common among the Albigensians of southern France.

In 1215 Innocent called a great church council, the greatest since antiquity, attended

by 500 bishops and even by the patriarchs of Constantinople and Jerusalem. The council

labored at the perplexing task of keeping the clergy from worldly temptations. By forbid-

ding priests to offi ciate at ordeals or trials by battle, it virtually ended these survivals of

pre-Christian judgments and punishments. It attempted to regularize belief in the super-

natural by controlling the superstitious traffi c in relics. It declared the sacraments to be the

channel of God’s saving grace and defi ned them authoritatively. 1 In the chief sacrament,

the Eucharist or Mass, it promulgated the dogma of transubstantiation, which held that, in

the Mass, the priest converts the substance of bread and wine into the substance of Christ’s

body and blood. Except for heretics, who were suppressed, the reforms and doctrines of

Innocent’s council were accepted with satisfaction throughout Latin Europe.

Intellectual Life: The Universities, Scholasticism

Under the auspices of the church, as rising governments gave more civil security, and as

the economy of town and country became able to support people devoted to a life of

thought, the intellectual horizon of Europeans began to open. The twelfth and thirteenth

centuries saw the founding of the fi rst universities. These originated in the

natural and spontaneous coming together of teachers and students that had

never wholly disappeared even in the most chaotic era of the early Middle

Ages. By 1200 there was a center of medical studies at Salerno in south

Italy, of legal studies at Bologna in north Italy, of theological studies at

Paris. Oxford was founded about 1200 by a secession of disgruntled students and profes-

sors from Paris; Cambridge, shortly thereafter. By 1300 there were a dozen such universi-

ties in Latin Europe; by 1500 there were almost a hundred.

As the early agglomerations of traders developed into organized towns and guilds, so

the informal concourses of students and teachers developed into organized institutions of

learning, receiving the sharp corporate stamp that was characteristic of the High Middle

Innocent III

The founding of

universities

1 A sacrament is understood to be the outward sign of an inward grace. In Catholic doctrine the sacraments were

and are seven in number: baptism, confi rmation, penance, the Eucharist, extreme unction, marriage, and holy

orders. Except for baptism, a sacrament may be administered only by a priest. A dogma is the common belief of

the church, in which all the faithful share and must share so long as they are members of the church. Dogmas are

regarded as implicitly the same in all ages; they cannot be invented or developed, but may from time to time be

clarifi ed, defi ned, promulgated, or proclaimed.

4. The High Middle Ages: The Church

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Chapter 1 The Rise of Europe42

Ages. It was in having this corporate identity that medieval universities resembled our own

and differed from the schools of Athens or Alexandria in ancient times. A university, the

University of Paris, for example, was a body of individuals, young and old, interested in

learning and endowed by law with a communal name and existence. It possessed defi nite

liberties under some kind of charter, regulated its own affairs through its own offi cials, and

kept its own order among its often boisterous population. It gave, and even advertised,

courses and lectures, and it decided collectively which professors were the best qualifi ed to

teach. It might consist of distinct schools or “faculties”—the combination of theology,

law, and medicine, as at Paris, was the most usual. It held examinations and awarded

degrees, whose meaning and value were recognized throughout the Latin West. The

degree, which originated as a license to teach, admitted its holder to certain honors or

privileges in the same way that members of other guilds were authorized to practice a spe-

cifi c craft. With such degrees, professors might readily move from one university to

another. Students moved easily also because all universities used the Latin language and

offered a similar curriculum. The university, moreover, though typically beginning in pov-

erty, was a corporate body capable of holding property; and the benefactions of pious

donors often built up substantial endowments in lands and manors. So organized, free from

outside control, and enjoying an income from property, the university lived on as a perma-

nent institution, through good times and bad.

The queen of the sciences was theology, the intellectual study of reli-

gion. Many in Europe, by the eleventh century, were beginning to refl ect

upon their beliefs. They continued to believe in God but could no longer

believe with unthinking acceptance. It was accepted as a fact, for example,

that the Son of God had been incarnated as a man in Jesus Christ. But in the eleventh cen-

tury an Italian named Anselm, who became archbishop of Canterbury, wrote a treatise

called Cur Deus Homo? —“Why Did God Become Man?”—giving reasoned explanations to show why God had taken human form to save sinful human beings. Anselm argued that

reason strongly supported the Christian faith in God. Soon afterward Abelard, who taught

at Paris, wrote his Sic et Non —“Yes and No” or “Pro and Con”—a collection of inconsis- tent statements made by St. Augustine and other Fathers of the Church. Abelard’s purpose

was to apply logic to the inherited mass of patristic writings, show wherein the truth of

Christian doctrine really lay, and so make the faith consistent with reason and refl ection.

Meanwhile, in the twelfth century a great stream of new knowledge

poured into Europe, bringing about a veritable intellectual revolution. It

was derived from the Arabs, with whom Christians were in contact in Sicily

and Spain. The Arabs, as has been seen, had taken over the ancient Greek

science, translated Greek writings into Arabic, and in many ways added

further refi nements of their own. Bilingual Christians (assisted by numerous learned Jews

who traveled readily between the Christian and Muslim worlds) translated these works

into Latin. Above all, they translated Aristotle, the great codifi er of Greek knowledge who

had lived and written in the fourth century b.c.e. The Europeans, drawing on the com-

mentaries of Muslim scholars such as Averroës (1126–1198), were overwhelmed by this

sudden disclosure of an undreamed universe of knowledge. Aristotle became The Philoso-

pher, the unparalleled authority on all branches of knowledge other than religious.

The great problem for Europeans was how to digest the gigantic bulk of Aristotle,

or, in more general terms, how to assimilate or reconcile the body of Greek and Arabic

learning to the Christian faith. The universities, with their “scholastic” philosophers or

“schoolmen,” performed this function. Most eminent of scholastics was Thomas Aquinas

(1225–1274), the Angelic Doctor, known also to his own contemporaries as the Dumb Ox

Theology

Arabic and Greek

learning

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43

THE MEETING OF ST. ANTHONY AND ST. PAUL by Sassetta (Italian, 1392–1450)

This picture conveys the abstractness of medieval thought in which “realism” meant a belief in the reality of permanent ideas (a belief that might now be called “idealism”). There is no attempt to portray the fi gures as unique individuals; they are typical saints with the halos designating sacred persons. St. Anthony appears in three places—walking alone, converting a centaur, and embracing St. Paul. The forest and hills represent the general idea of trees or mounds of earth, but there is no physical specifi city in these representations of nature. ( National Gallery of Art)

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Chapter 1 The Rise of Europe44

THOMAS AQUINAS by Fra Bartelemo (Italian, 1472–1517)

Thomas Aquinas combined Aristotelian knowledge with Christian faith in his scholastic theology, thus gaining perma- nent respect (and sainthood) from the Catholic Church and artistic recognition from painters such as Fra Bartelemo. (Nicolo Orsi Battaglini/Art Resource, NY)

from the slow deliberation of his speech. His chief work, appropriately called the Summa Theologica, was a survey of all knowledge.

The chief accomplishment of Thomas Aquinas was his demonstration

that faith and reason could not be in confl ict. By reason he meant a severely

logical method, with exact defi nition of words and concepts, deducing step

by step what follows and must follow if certain premises are accepted. His

philosophy is classifi ed as a form of moderate “realism,” a term whose medieval meaning

differed from its common usage today. For medieval philosophers realism meant that the

general idea or abstraction is more “real” than the particular—that “man” or “woman” is

more real than this or that man or woman, that “law” as such is more real and binding than

this or that particular law. He derived his philosophy from what he took to be the enduring,

transcendent nature of God, of law, of reason, of human life, and of beings in general.

Thomas taught a hierarchic view of the universe and of society, of which God was the

apex. All things and all people were subordinated to God in a descending order, each

bound to fulfi ll the role set by its own place and nature. It was the emphasis on the superior

reality of abstractions that enabled people in the Middle Ages to believe steadfastly in the

church while freely attacking individual churchmen, to have faith in the papacy while

denouncing the popes as scoundrels—or to accept without diffi culty the mystery of tran-

substantiation, which declared that what admittedly looked and tasted like bread and wine

was, in real inner substance, the body of Christ.

The scholastic philosophy, as perfected by Thomas Aquinas, was not

very favorable to the growth of natural science, because its emphasis on an

inner reality drew attention away from the actual details and behavior of

Thomas Aquinas

Scholasticism

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45

concrete things. On the other hand, the scholastic philosophy laid foundations on which

later European thought was to be reared. It habituated Europeans to great exactness, to care-

ful distinctions, even to the splitting of hairs. It called for disciplined thinking. And it made

the world safe for reason. If any historical generalization may be made safely, it may be

said that any society that believes reason to threaten its foundations will suppress reason. In

Thomas’s time, there were some who said that Aristotle and the Arabs were infi dels, dan-

gerous infl uences that must be silenced. Any reasoning about the faith, they warned, was a

form of weakness. Thomas’s doctrine that faith could not be endangered by reason gave a

freedom to thinkers to go on thinking.

The Crusades; New Invasions; Europe by 1300

Meanwhile, the West was beginning to expand. Europe in the eleventh century launched

a military offensive against Islam, and most of Latin Christendom went on the Crusades.

War itself was subordinated to the purposes of religion.

CRUSADING ACTIVITY, 1100–1250 Medieval Christendom expanded geographically until about 1250. Darker regions are those christianized shortly before and after 1000. Arrows indicate organized military-religious expe- ditions, which by 1250 had ended the Muslim control in most of Spain but had failed to do so in the Holy Land. Dates are rounded and very rough.

B A L T

I C S E

A

0 200 400 miles

Regions Christianized after about 900 C.E.

Muslims in Granada, North Africa, and the Holy Land

M E D I T E R R A N E A N S E A

CASTILLE AND LEÓN

GRANADA

VALENCIA

ARAGON

NAVARRE

HOLY LAND

Ea st

er n

Li m

it o

f La

ti n

C h

ri st

ia n

it y

LIVONIA

PRUSSIA POMERANIA

PORTUGAL

SPAIN

ALBIGENSIANS

Finns Converted by Swedes c. 1150

c. 1250

1000–125

1070– 1100

1000– 1250

c. 1250

Teuton ic K

nig ht

s 1

10 0–

12 5

Paris

Byzantium (Constantinople)

London

Rome

Venice

Antioch

Jerusalem

Tripoli Tyre

Acre Jaffa

Damascus

4. The High Middle Ages: The Church

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Chapter 1 The Rise of Europe46

The most ambitious, best remembered, and least successful of such expeditions were

the Crusades to win back the Holy Land. The First Crusade was preached in 1095 by Pope

Urban II, who hoped thereby to advance the peace of God by draining off

bellicose nobles to fi ght the infi dels and to build up the pope’s leadership in

Europe. Crusades to the Holy Land, with varying success, and sometimes

departing woefully from their religious aims, went on intermittently for

200 years. It was the growth of Italian shipping in the Mediterranean, the

rise of more orderly feudal monarchies, and the increasing sense of a Europe-wide com-

mon purpose that made possible the assembly and transport of considerable forces over a

great distance. But the motivation for such Crusades, especially in the beginning, came

mostly from a wave of religious fervor that brought nobles and commoners alike into the

Crusader armies. This fervor contributed to brutal, deadly attacks on Jewish communities

within Europe as well as to the extraordinary violence against entire Muslim populations

in cities such as Antioch and Jerusalem. At the same time, however, the Crusades gave

Europeans a new awareness of the world beyond their own local realms of religion and

small-town economies. Historians have argued that the Crusaders’ contacts with Arab

societies in the Middle East stimulated subsequent European economic development and a

new cultural identity among “Western” peoples. Although this argument points to impor-

tant consequences of the Crusades, it is also true that the campaigns against Islam grew out

of Europe’s own growing political and military strength. For a century the Latin Christians

occupied parts of Palestine and Syria. But military defeats forced them to withdraw in the

thirteenth century, and the Muslims remained in possession.

Other crusades (for such they were) had more lasting results. A party

of Normans won Sicily from the Arabs about 1100. Iberian Christians,

descending from the mountains of northern Spain, carried on a recon- quista of two centuries against the Moors. By 1250 they had staked out

the Christian kingdoms of Portugal, León, Castile, Aragon, and Valencia, leaving the

Muslims only Granada in the extreme south, which was conquered much later, in 1492.

In southern France, a crusade against the Albigensians in the thirteenth century put down

the heretics, those born in the Christian faith but erring from the church’s reigning inter-

pretations of it. The Albigensians, for example, believed that the moral corruption of

the clergy betrayed the spiritual essence of Christianity—a claim that church offi cials

could never accept. Crusading expeditions were also launched against a few remaining

“heathen” populations in northeastern Europe. The Teutonic Order, a military-religious

society of knights founded originally to fi ght in the Holy Land, transferred its operations

to the north. Christianity was thus brought by the sword to eastern Prussia and the east

Baltic regions.

About the year 1250 there developed a new threat of invasion from Asia. As the Huns

had burst out of Asia in the fi fth century, and the Magyars in the ninth, so now the Tartars

appeared in the thirteenth century, to be followed in the fourteenth by the Ottoman Turks.

We shall see how the Turks long continued to press upon central Europe. But, on the whole,

by the thirteenth century, Europe was capable of resistance. Always until then it had been

vulnerable as an outlying, backward, thinly populated protuberance from the Eurasian land

mass. It had lain open in the remote past to wandering Indo-Europeans, then to Roman

imperial conquerors, to Germanic barbarians, to Huns, Magyars, and, in part, the Arabs. All

these were gradually assimilated by the Roman church, the Latin language, the common

institutions of feudalism, monarchy, a free town life, parliamentary assemblies, and scho-

lastic learning. An increasingly connected and coherent culture ran from England to Sicily

and from Portugal to Poland.

Crusades to the Holy

Land

Other crusades

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47

By 1300 the “rise of Europe” was an accomplished fact. The third of the three seg-

ments into which the Greco-Roman world had divided, the one that in 700 c.e. had been

the most isolated and fragmented, now some 600 years later had a civiliza-

tion of its own. It was still only one among the several great cultures of the

world, such as the Islamic, Byzantine, Indian, and Chinese. It enjoyed no

preeminence. The Chinese Empire, for example, in the thirteenth century,

had cities whose population reached into millions. It had an affl uent merchant class, great

textile manufacturers, and an iron industry that produced over 100,000 tons a year. The arts

and sciences were assiduously pursued. Government was centralized and complex; it

issued paper money and employed a civil service recruited by competitive examinations.

Books on religious, technical, and agricultural subjects, including whole multivolume

encyclopedias, were printed in enormous numbers, even though the lack of an alphabet and

the thousands of Chinese characters made it diffi cult for literacy to become widespread.

The Venetian Marco Polo was dazzled by the China that he lived in from 1275 to 1292.

Many have asked why China did not generate, as Europe did in these centuries, the

main forces that ultimately led to the modern scientifi c and industrial world. One answer is

suggested by the fact that it was Europeans such as Marco Polo who went to China, not

The “rise of Europe”

Europeans took pride in their crusading armies, represented here in a medieval image of the conquest of Antioch in 1098 during the First Crusade. (Bibliotheque Municipale, Lyon, France/Art Resource, NY)

4. The High Middle Ages: The Church

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Chapter 1 The Rise of Europe48

Chinese who went to Europe. In the fi fteenth century, over the years 1405 to 1433, a Ming

emperor launched a large-scale series of long-range naval expeditions, seven in all, headed

by his admiral Zheng He (also known in English as Cheng Ho). The expeditions sailed to

ports in Southeast Asia, India, the Persian Gulf, and East Africa, exchanging gifts in trans-

actions that recognized the emperor’s power and prestige. But the emperor and his advis-

ers ultimately terminated the entire venture. China turned away from distant overseas

commercial opportunities in this period, and the Chinese government turned inward to the

protection and expansion of its land frontiers. It was the Europeans who later pursued the

development of trade in India and also crossed the Atlantic to discover America. Europe-

ans gradually became more interested in exploring other lands and developing new kinds

of trade, perhaps because in Europe there was no all-embracing empire as in China, but

kings, lords, and towns that competed with each other. With religion and the church kept

distinct from the state, the search for what one should do with one’s life became less

dependent on the power of a unifying imperial or religious system. Europe was disorderly

and full of confl ict—rivalries and wars between kings, quarrels between kings and their

barons, disputes between church and state, clashes between lords and their peasant work-

ers. Much of this confl ict was destructive, yet there was also a kind of opportunity or free-

dom in such disorder and a dynamism that promoted change.

European civilization in 1300 was by no means a modern society, yet

the ancient and medieval cultures on European lands had created institu-

tions and traditions that have remained infl uential even in the most recent

eras of modern world history. By 1300 people in Europe had developed

separate (at times contending) institutions of church and state to control a growing popula-

tion, economic institutions to promote urban commerce and long-distance trade, judicial

and parliamentary councils to codify or revise the law, and universities to teach or rede-

fi ne their intellectual traditions. These traditions included a pervasive faith in Christianity,

but the ancient Christian beliefs were challenged, revised, and extended by other ancient

traditions of rhetoric, philosophy, and rational inquiry—all of which contributed to the

emergence of what is now called early modern history.

European civilization

in 1300

For suggested further readings and useful Web sites, interactive exercises, glossary, chronologies,

and more, go to the Online Learning Center at www.mhhe.com/palmerhistory11e.

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49

C h a p t e r 2 THE UPHEAVAL IN WESTERN CHRISTENDOM, 1300–1560

In the transition   from traditional to more mod- ern forms of society, people in all the old civiliza-

tions have reexamined their religious base. Today

we can observe this process at work everywhere:

the Chinese reconsider the age-old teachings of

Confucius, the Muslims enter into wider activities

than those known to the Qur’an, and the peoples of

India are rapidly expanding an economy in which

historic Hindu practices no longer form the domi-

nant pattern. People in modern societies do not nec-

essarily reject their ancestral religion. In fact, they

may strongly reaffi rm it, but they usually try also

to adapt it to modern economic and political condi-

tions and to make room for new and non religious

interests. The process of developing various activities outside the sphere of religion is

called “secularization.”

Latin Christendom was the fi rst of the world’s major religious cultures to become

“secularized.” In the very long run it was those aspects of European civilization that were

least associated with Christianity, such as natural science and industrial technology, or

military and economic power, that the non-European world proved to be most willing to

adopt. If in our own time there has come to be such a thing as a global civilization, it is

because all the world’s great traditional cultures have been increasingly secularized. This

secularization of human cultures, although often challenged by popular religious move-

ments in the contemporary world, remains one of the decisive trends in modern world his-

tory, and it is a trend that began to appear in Europe at the end of the Middle Ages.

The Europe that had become both expansive and more prosperous by the thirteenth

century soon entered upon a series of disasters. The Mongols after about 1240 held

Russia in subjugation for 200 years. The Ottoman Turks, who had originated in central

Asia, penetrated the Byzantine Empire, crushed the medieval Serbian kingdom at the battle

of Kosovo in 1389, and spread over the Balkans. They took Constantinople itself in 1453.

5. Disasters of the Fourteenth

Century

6. The Renaissance in Italy

7. The Renaissance outside

Italy

8. The New Monarchies

9. The Protestant Reformation

10. Catholicism Reformed

and Reorganized

Chapter emblem: Detail from A Portrait of a Family by Lavinia Fontana (1552–1614). (Scala/Art Resource, NY)

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Chapter 2 The Upheaval in Western Christendom, 1300–156050

Eastern Christianity continued to exist, but under alien political domination. Latin

Christianity, reaching from Poland and Hungary to the Atlantic, remained independent but

was beset with troubles. The authority of the papacy and of the Roman Catholic church was

called into question. Eventually the Protestant churches emerged, and the religious unity

of medieval civilization disappeared. Yet new forces also asserted themselves alongside

or outside the religious tradition. Government, law, philosophy, science, the arts, material

and economic activities were pursued with less regard for Christian values. Power, order,

beauty, wealth, knowledge, and control of nature were regarded as desirable in themselves.

In this mixture of decline and revival, of religious revolution and secularization,

medieval Christendom evolved into the social, political, and cultural world of early mod-

ern Europe.

5. DISASTERS OF THE FOURTEENTH CENTURY

The Black Death and Its Consequences

During the fourteenth century, and quite abruptly, about a third of the population of Europe

was wiped out. Although it is impossible to know exactly how many people lived in medi-

eval Europe, modern demographic historians have estimated that the total population fell

from more than 80 million in the early 1300s to roughly 60 million in 1400;

and Europe’s population did not return to pre-plague levels until the six-

teenth century (see the graph on p. 51). Some died in sporadic local famines

that began to appear after 1300. The great killer, however, was the plague,

or Black Death, which fi rst struck Europe in 1348. The precise medical cause of the plague

is still debated. Most modern historians believe that the disease was carried by rats, but this

theory may not explain how the contagion moved so quickly across Europe or why so

many humans became vulnerable to a bacillus that normally lives in rodents. Despite the

uncertainty about its physiological origins, historians agree that the plague had decisive

effects on European social life. Since the plague returned at irregular and unpredictable

intervals, and killed off the young as well as the old, it disrupted marriage and family life

and made it impossible for many years for Europe to regain the former level of population.

In some places whole villages disappeared. Cultivated fi elds were abandoned for want of

able-bodied men and women to work them. The towns were especially vulnerable, because

the contagion spread quickly through populations crowded within town walls. Trade and

exchange were obstructed; prices, wages, and incomes moved erratically; famine made its

victims more susceptible to disease; and deaths from the plague contributed to famine. The

living were preoccupied with the burial of the dead and with fears for their own future.

There were immediate social and political repercussions. In some cases, survivors

benefi ted because the scarcity of labor led to higher wages. On the other hand, in the gen-

eral disorganization, and with landowners and urban employers decimated also, many of

the poor could fi nd no work or took to vagabondage and begging. The upper classes, acting

through governments, attempted to control wages and prices. Rebellions

of workers broke out in various towns, especially in Flanders, and there

were massive insurrections of peasants in many parts of Europe. In France

these were called “jacqueries” (from “Jacques,” a nickname for a peas-

ant), of which the fi rst was in 1358. In England a similar large-scale uprising in 1381 came

to be known as Wat Tyler’s rebellion. Sometimes the spokesmen for these movements

went beyond their immediate grievances to raise broader social questions about why some

The Black Death

Revolts and repression

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515. Disasters of the Fourteenth Century

should be rich and others poor. Governments and the upper classes replied to this menace

with ferocious repression. The peasants generally returned to their usual labors. Yet some-

thing was gained for the rural workers, at least in the long run, as underlying economic

and demographic forces continued to assert themselves. The landowners, or feudal class,

in order to get the work done on their manors and assure their own incomes, had to offer

more favorable terms. These included, for example, the giving of lifetime tenures to peas-

ant families, in return for fi xed payment of sums of money. Over the years many of these

peasant holdings became hereditary and the value of money decreased, so that payment of

a shilling, for example, which in 1400 represented a signifi cant amount, became much less

burdensome for the rural worker by 1600. In effect, a class of small peasant property owners

began to emerge in much of Europe.

The kings also, who had been building up their position against the church and the

feudal lords since the eleventh century, found their problems complicated by the disasters

of the fourteenth. They still had their governments to maintain, and their ambitions to sat-

isfy, even if death removed large fractions of their subjects. They even had to increase their

incomes, as it became usual for kings to employ royal armies of foot soldiers against the

recurring possibility of feudal resistance. Various means of increasing the royal spending

power were devised. Currency was debased; that is, the king ordered a given weight of gold

or silver to represent a larger number of monetary units. Thus he temporarily had more

money, but the result was infl ation and higher prices, that is, the declining value of money

already mentioned. New taxes were introduced. About 1300 the kings of both England and

France undertook to tax the landowning clergy of their respective kingdoms. The kings

made increasing demands as well on great noble landholders and urban merchants. These

demands were resisted, or made subject to bargains by the representative bodies whose

origin was described in the last chapter, so that the fourteenth century, and still more the

fi fteenth, has been called the “golden age” of the medieval parliaments.

This graph shows the growth of Europe’s population after 1200, the far-reaching demographic impact of the Black Death in the fourteenth century, and the gradual revival of the European population during the fi fteenth century. Source: Massimo Livi-Bacci, A Concise History of World Population, 5th ed. (Oxford: Wiley Blackwell, 2012).

40

50

60

70

80

90

100

110 Estimated Population of Europe, 1200 –1600

1200 1340 1400 1500 1600

M il li o

n s

o f

p e rs

o n

s

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Chapter 2 The Upheaval in Western Christendom, 1300–156052

In 1337 the Hundred Years’ War began between England and France. The battles all

took place in France, which was internally divided, some parts, like Aquitaine, having long

belonged to the English crown. France was ravaged by marauding bands of English sol-

diers and their French adherents, until French forces began to achieve mili-

tary victories under the inspired leadership of Joan of Arc, the young

woman whom the English burned at the stake in Rouen in 1431 after she

was convicted by the church of heresy and witchcraft. The war eventually

ended in 1453, when the English lost a fi nal, decisive battle and gave up

their long campaign for territories on the continent, but the French suffered the greatest

human and material losses during the many decades of fi ghting and social disruption. The

costly century of warfare also had important consequences in England, however, and a

kind of early patriotism arose among the English as their soldiers used longbows to defeat

the mounted French knights at places such as Agincourt. Parliament widened its powers as

the kings needed money for their campaigns. But the great English barons also became

more unruly, and internal disorders fractured England throughout the fi fteenth century.

Dukes and earls and their followers formed private armies and fought with each other; they

defi ed the royal law courts and intimidated juries, used Parliament and government for

their own purposes, and exploited their peasants. From about 1450 until 1485 England was

beset by upper-class turmoil that came to be called the Wars of the Roses, because the

opposing noble factions adopted red and white roses as their symbols.

Troubles of the Medieval Church

Meanwhile similar calamities affl icted the church. In 1300, the church of the High Middle

Ages, centralized in the papacy, stood at its zenith. But the church was weakened by its

very successes. It faced the danger that besets every successful institution—a form of gov-

ernment or a university, to choose modern examples—the danger of believing that the

institution exists for the benefi t of those who conduct its affairs. The papacy, being at the

top, was the most liable to this danger. It became “corrupt,” set in its ways, out of touch

with public opinion, and controlled by a self-perpetuating bureaucracy. It was unable to

reform itself, and unwilling to let anyone else reform it.

Both Edward I of England and Philip the Fair of France, in the 1290s, assessed taxes

on the landed estates belonging to the great abbeys, bishoprics, and other components of the

church. The pope, Boniface VIII, prohibited the taxation of clergy by the civil ruler. In the

ensuing altercation, in 1302, he issued the famous bull, Unam Sanctam, the most extreme of all assertions of papal supremacy, which declared that outside the Roman

church there was no salvation, and that “every human creature” was “subject

to the Roman pontiff.” 1 The French king sent soldiers to arrest Boniface,

who soon died. French infl uence in the College of Cardinals brought about

the election of a pope who was expected to be subservient to King Philip,

and who took up his residence, with his court and offi cials, at Avignon on the lower Rhone

River, on what were then the borders of France. Thus began the “Babylonian Captivity” of

the church. The rest of Europe regarded the popes at Avignon throughout the century as tools

of the French monarchy, and the papacy lost much of its prestige as a universal institution.

The Hundred Years’

War

The “Babylonian

Captivity”

1 Bulls, so-called from the Latin word for their seal, are known by their fi rst one or two Latin words, which in this

case mean “one holy (church)”; a “bull,” while the most solemn form of papal edict, does not as such embody a

dogma; and it is not Catholic practice today to affi rm this policy of Boniface VIII.

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53

Attempts to correct the situation made matters worse. In 1378 the College of Cardinals,

torn by French and anti-French factions within it, elected two popes. Both were equally

legitimate, being chosen by cardinals, but one lived at Rome, one at Avignon, and neither

would resign. The French and their supporters recognized the Avignon pope; England and

most of Germany, the Roman. For forty years both lines were perpetuated. There were now

two papacies, estranged by the Great Schism of the West.

Never had the papacy been so externally magnifi cent as in the days of

the Captivity and the Schism. The papal court at Avignon surpassed the

courts of kings in splendor. The papal offi cialdom grew in numbers, ignor-

ing the deeper problems while busily transacting each day’s business. Papal

revenues mounted, and new papal taxes were devised. In the continuing movement of

funds from all over Europe to the papal court, from the thirteenth century on, a new class

of international bankers rose and prospered.

But the papacy, never so sumptuous, had never since the tenth century rested on such

shaky foundations. People pay willingly for institutions in which they believe, and admire

magnifi cence in leaders whom they respect. But before 1378, with the pope submissive to

France, and after 1378, with two popes and two papacies to support, there was growing

complaint at the extravagance and worldliness of papal rule. It must be remembered that

all this happened in a Europe traumatized by the plague, and with a declining number of

people expected to bear increasing fi nancial burdens. The most pious Christians were the

most shocked. They recognized the vital necessity of obtaining God’s grace, but with two

churches under two popes, each claiming to hold the keys of Peter, how could they be cer-

tain that their church gave true salvation? In a society that was still primarily a religious

community, this sense of religious insecurity was a source of uneasiness and dread.

The old moorings were weakened, the wrath of God seemed to be raining upon the

earth, and no one had the slightest notion of how to escape from the crisis. Symptoms of

mass neurosis appeared. Some people sought refuge in a hectic merriment

or luxury and self-indulgence. Others became preoccupied with grisly sub-

jects. Some frantically performed the Dance of Death in the cemeteries,

while others furtively celebrated the Black Mass, parodying religion in a

mad desire to appease the devil. The Order of Flagellants grew up; its members went

through the streets, two by two, beating each other with chains and whips. Religious anxi-

eties and fearful religious rumors contributed also to waves of anti-Jewish violence, mur-

der, and expulsion that spread across parts of France and Germany in the fourteenth

century. And it was at this time that people fi rst became obsessed with the fear of witches,

a delusion that would ultimately cause thousands of persons (often older women) to be

tortured and executed over the following three centuries.

Disaffection with the church, or the thought that it might not be the true or the only

way to salvation, spread in all ranks of society. It was not only kings who disputed the

claims of the clergy but also obscure parish priests, close to the distress of ordinary people,

who began to doubt the powers of their ecclesiastical superiors. One of

these humble clerics was William Langland, who in his Piers Plowman, in the 1360s, contrasted the sufferings of the honest poor with the hypocrisy

and corruption in high places. Such unsettling ideas spread very widely;

in England those who held them were known as Lollards. Since the actual poor left no

records, it is hard to say exactly what they thought, but some of their ideas were probably

expressed by John Wyclif, who taught at Oxford. About 1380, Wyclif was saying that the

true church could do without elaborate possessions, and even that an organized church

The Great Schism

Responses to crisis

Lollards and Hussites

5. Disasters of the Fourteenth Century

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Chapter 2 The Upheaval in Western Christendom, 1300–156054

might not be necessary for salvation, since ordinary, devout persons could do without

priests and obtain salvation by reading the Bible, which he translated into English. Similar

ideas appeared in Bohemia in central Europe, with John Huss as their spokesman. Here

they became a national movement, for the Hussites were both a religious party and at the

same time a Slavic or Czech party protesting against the supremacy of the Germans who

lived in Bohemia. The Hussite wars ravaged central Europe for decades in the fi fteenth

century. The ideas of the Lollards and of Huss and Wyclif were branded as heresy, or

unacceptable deviations from the true doctrine of the church.

Infl uential and established persons did not yet turn to heresy, and still less to witch-

craft or fl agellation. Their answer to the needs of the day was to assemble a great Europe-

wide or general council of the church, in which reforms could be pressed by the whole

body of Christians upon the reluctant and rival popes.

The Conciliar Movement

In 1409 such a church council met at Pisa. All parts of the Latin West were represented.

The council declared both reigning popes deposed and obtained the due election of another,

but since the fi rst two refused to resign there were now three. In 1414 an even greater and

more fully attended council met at Constance. Its aims were three: to end the now threefold

Extreme expressions of religious anxiety appeared in the later Middle Ages among the fl agellants who wandered through towns beating themselves to appease the wrath of God. They are portrayed here in a later sixteenth-century engraving of their processions. (Bridgeman-Giraudon/Art Resource, NY)

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55

schism, to extirpate heresy, and to reform the church “in head and members,” or from top

to bottom. Not much was accomplished in reform. To discourage heresy, John Huss was

interrogated, condemned, and burned at the stake. The schism was ended. All three popes

were at last persuaded or compelled to withdraw, and another, Martin V, was elected. The

unity of the church, under the papacy, was at last restored.

The majority of the Council of Constance wished to make general

councils part of the permanent apparatus of the church. Martin V, however,

soon reaffi rmed the prerogatives of the papal offi ce, dissolved the Council

of Constance, and repudiated its decrees. The next 30 years saw a continu-

ing contest of wills between successive popes and successive councils.

In this battle for jurisdiction few reforms could be adopted, and fewer still could be

enforced. Increasingly the life of the church was corrupted by money. No one believed

in bribery, but everyone knew that many high churchmen (like many high civil offi cials

of the day) could be bribed. To buy or sell a church offi ce was a crime in

the canon law known as “simony,” but it was a crime that in the fi fteenth

century could not be suppressed. For churchmen to live with mistresses was

considered understandable, if unseemly; the standards of laymen in such

matters were not high; but for a bishop or other ecclesiastic to give lucrative

church positions to his own children (or other relatives) was the abuse known as nepotism,

and it, too, could not be eradicated. To sell divine grace for money, all agreed, was not

only wrong but also impossible. But in 1300 Boniface VIII had given encouragement to

the practice of “indulgences.” A person, if properly confessed, absolved, and truly repen-

tant, might, by obtaining an indulgence, be spared certain of the temporal punishments of

purgatory. One usually obtained such an indulgence in return for a donation of money. The

practice proved to be a fatally easy method of fundraising, despite complaints against the

sale of indulgences simply for money.

Gradually the popes prevailed over the councils. The conciliar movement was greatly

weakened for Christendom as a whole when the powerful French element secured its aims

by a local national arrangement. In the Pragmatic Sanction of Bourges, in 1438, the Gallican

(or French) church affi rmed the supremacy of councils over popes, declared its administra-

tive independence from the Holy See, suppressed the payment of some church taxes to

Rome, and forbade papal intervention in the appointment of French prelates. The papacy

thus lost infl uence in France, but the popes remained preeminent in Europe as a whole. In

1449, with the dissolution of the Council of Basel, the conciliar movement came to an end.

In 1450 a great Jubilee was held to celebrate the papal triumph.

The papacy, its prestige and freedom of action thus secured, now passed into the

hands of a series of cultivated gentlemen, men of the world, men of “modern” outlook

in tune with their times—the famous popes of the Renaissance. Some, like Nicholas V

(1447–1455) or Pius II (1458–1464), were accomplished scholars and con-

noisseurs of books. Some were like Innocent VIII (1484–1492), a pleas-

ant man who was the fi rst pope to dine in public with ladies. Alexander

VI (1492–1503), of the Spanish Borgia family, exploited his offi ce for the

benefi t of his relatives, trying to make his son Cesare Borgia the ruler of all

Italy, while his daughter, Lucretia Borgia, became duchess of Ferrara and gathered liter-

ary men and artists at her famous Renaissance court. Alexander VI’s successor, Julius II

(1503–1513), was a capable general, and Leo X (1513–1521) was a superb patron of archi-

tects and painters. But we must now describe the Italian Renaissance, in which worthies of

this kind were elevated to the Holy See.

General councils

Church corruption

and indulgences

The Renaissance

popes

5. Disasters of the Fourteenth Century

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Chapter 2 The Upheaval in Western Christendom, 1300–156056

6. THE RENAISSANCE IN ITALY

In Italy in the fi fteenth century, and especially at Florence, we observe not merely a decay

of medieval certainties but the appearance of a new and invigorating attitude toward the

world. The Renaissance, a French word meaning “rebirth,” fi rst received its name from

those who thought of the Middle Ages as a dark time from which the human spirit had to

be awakened. It was called a re birth in the belief that people now, after a long interruption, had taken up and resumed a civilization like that of the Greco-Romans. Medieval people

had thought of the times of Aristotle or Cicero as not sharply distinct from their own. In the

Renaissance, with a new historical sense, arose the conception of “modern” and “ancient”

times, separated by a long period with a different lifestyle and appropriately called the

Middle Ages.

The basic institutions of Europe, the distinctive languages and national cultures, the

great frameworks of collective action in law, government, and economic production—all

originated in the Middle Ages. But the Renaissance marked a new era in thought and

feeling, by which Europe and its institutions were in the long run to be transformed. The

origins of modern natural science can be traced more to the medieval universities than to

the Renaissance thinkers. But it was in the Italy of the Quattrocento (as Italians call the

fi fteenth century) that other fi elds of thought and expression were fi rst cul-

tivated. The Italian infl uence in other countries, in these respects, remained

very strong for at least 200 years. It pertained to high culture, and hence to

a limited number of persons, but extended over the whole area represented

by literature and the arts—literature meaning all kinds of writing and the arts including

all products of human skill. The effects of the Italian Renaissance, though much modi-

fi ed with the passage of time, were evident in the books and art galleries of Europe and

America, and in the architecture of their cities, even after the revolution of modern art

in the early twentieth century. They involved the whole area of culture that was neither

theological nor scientifi c but concerned with moral and civic questions about what human

beings ought to be or ought to do, with the answers refl ected in matters of taste, style,

propriety, decorum, personal character, and education. In particular, it was in Renaissance

Italy that an almost purely secular attitude fi rst appeared, in which life was no longer seen

by leading thinkers as a brief preparation for the hereafter.

The Italian Cities and the New Conception of Life

The towns of Italy, so long as trade converged in the Mediterranean, were the biggest and

most bustling of all the towns that rose in Europe during the Middle Ages. The crafts of

Italy included many refi ned trades such as those of the goldsmith or stonecarver, which

were so zealously pursued that artisanship turned into art, and a delight in the beautiful

became common among all classes. Merchants made fortunes in commerce: they lent their

money to popes or princes and so made further fortunes as bankers. They bought the wares

of the craftsmen-artists. They rejoiced, not so much in money or the making of money, as

in the beautiful things and psychological satisfactions that money could buy; and if they

forgot the things that money could not buy, this is only to say again that their outlook was

becoming more “secular.”

The Italian towns were independent city-states. There was no king to

build up a government for Italy as a whole, and for several generations the

popes were either absent at Avignon or engaged in disputes arising from the

The Italian infl uence

The Italian city-states

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576. The Renaissance in Italy

Great Schism, so that the infl uence of Rome was unimportant. The merchant oligarchies,

each in its own city, enjoyed an unhampered stage on which to pursue interests other than

those of business. In some, as at Milan, they succumbed to or worked with a local prince or

despot. In others, as at Florence, Venice, and Genoa, they continued to govern themselves

as republics. They had the experience of contending for public offi ce, of suppressing popu-

lar revolt or winning popular favor, of producing works of public munifi cence, of making

alliances, hiring armies, outwitting rivals, and conducting affairs of state. In short, Italy

offered an environment in which human personalities could develop in many secular

directions.

All this was especially true in Florence, the chief city of Tuscany, which had grown

wealthy in the later Middle Ages from the production of woolens. In the fi fteenth century it

had a population of about 60,000, which made it only moderately large as

Italian cities went. Yet, like ancient Athens, Florence produced an extraordi-

nary sequence of gifted individuals. From the years of Dante, Petrarch, and

Boccaccio, who all died before 1375, to those of Machiavelli, who lived

until 1527, an amazing number of the leading fi gures of the Italian Renais-

sance were Florentines. Like Athens also, Florence lost its republican liberty as well as its

creative powers. Its history can be summarized in that of the Medici family. The founder of

the family fortunes was Giovanni (1360–1429), a merchant and banker of Florence. His

son, Cosimo de’ Medici (1389–1464), allying himself with the popular element against

The Medici family

The wealthiest persons in Ital- ian towns were often bankers who made money from the kind of fi nancial exchange that is portrayed in this fi fteenth- century illustration. (Scala/Art Resource, NY)

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Chapter 2 The Upheaval in Western Christendom, 1300–156058

some of the leading families of the republic, soon became unoffi cial ruler himself. Cosimo’s

grandson, Lorenzo the Magnifi cent (1449–1492), also used his great wealth to govern but is

chiefl y remembered as a poet, connoisseur, and lavish benefactor of art and learning. In the

next century Tuscany became a grand duchy, of which the Medici were hereditary grand

dukes until the family died out in 1737. Thus established, they furnished numerous cardi-

nals and two popes to the church, and two Medici women became queens of France.

What arose in Italy, in these surroundings, was no less than a new secular conception of

life. It seemed very doubtful whether a quiet, cloistered, or celibate life was on a higher plane

than an active gregarious life, or family life, or even a life of promiscuity and

adventure. It was hard to believe that clergy were any better than laity or that

life led to a stern divine judgment in the end. That human will and intelligence

might prove misleading seemed a gloomy doctrine. The belief that human

beings were frail creatures, in need of God’s grace and salvation, though per-

haps said aloud and in public places, seemed to evoke less feeling in the heart. Instead, what

captivated the Italians of the Renaissance was a sense of the vast range of human powers.

Formerly, the ideal behavior had been seen in renunciation, in a certain disdain for the

concerns of this world. Now a life of involvement was also prized. Formerly, poverty had

been greatly respected, at least in Christian doctrine. Now there was more praise for a

proper enjoyment of wealth. Medieval Europeans had admired a life of contemplation, or

meditative withdrawal. Now the humanist Leonardo Bruni could write, in 1433, “The

whole glory of man lies in activity.” Often, to be sure, the two attitudes existed in the same

person. Sometimes they divided different groups within the same city. As always, the old

persisted along with the new. The result might be psychological stress and civil confl ict.

The new esteem for human activity took both a social and an individu-

alistic turn. In cities maintaining their republican forms, as at Florence in

the early fi fteenth century, a new civic consciousness or sense of public

A secular conception

of life

Individualism

Two wool merchants display their goods and bags of wool. This illustration, which is from a 1492 book on arithmetic, shows the use of both Arabic and Roman numerals. (Biblioteca Riccardiana, Florence/Art Resource, NY)

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59

duty was expressed. For this purpose the writings of Cicero and other ancients were found

to be highly relevant, since they provided an ethics independent of the Christian and medi-

eval tradition. There was also a kind of cult of the great individual, hardly known to the

ancients, which gave little attention to collective responsibility. Renaissance individualism

emphasized the outstanding attainments of extraordinary men (women, by contrast, were

usually expected to pursue the ordinary tasks of domestic life). The great man shaped his

own destiny in a world governed by fortune. He had virtù, the quality of being a man ( vir, “man”), and although a few women might also exhibit virtù, it was a quality that in the society of the day was more to be expected in the most aggressive adult males. It meant the

successful demonstration of human powers. A man of virtù, in the arts, in war, or in state- craft, was a man who knew what he was doing, who, from resources within himself, made

the best use of his opportunities, hewing his way through the world and excelling in all that

he did. For the arts, such a spirit is preserved in the autobiography of Benvenuto Cellini.

The growing preoccupation with human actions can be traced in new forms of paint-

ing, sculpture, and architecture that arose in Italy at this time. These arts likewise refl ected

This procession is part of a fresco that Benozzo Gozzoli executed in 1469 for a Medici chapel. Although its title refers to the three kings on their way to Bethlehem, it actually represents important personages in fi fteenth-century Florence. Cosimo de’ Medici is on a white horse, followed by a throng of supporters. (Alinari/Art Resource, NY)

6. The Renaissance in Italy

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Chapter 2 The Upheaval in Western Christendom, 1300–156060

an increasing this-worldliness—a new sense of reality and a new sense of space—that was

different from that of the Middle Ages and would underlie much European thought until

the early twentieth century. Space was no longer indeterminate, unknowable, or divine;

it was a zone occupied by physical human beings, or one in which human beings might

at least imagine themselves moving about. Reality meant visible and tangible persons or

objects in this space, “objective” in the sense that they looked or felt the same to all normal

persons who perceived them. It was a function of the arts to convey this reality, however

idealized or suffused by the artist’s individual feeling, in such a way that observers could

recognize in the image the identity of the subject portrayed. Despite the growing emphasis

on individual achievements, knowledge itself was understood to be more than a subjective

perception or the unique vision of a creative genius.

Architecture refl ected the new tendencies. Although the Gothic cathedral at Milan was

built as late as 1386, at Florence and elsewhere architects preferred to adapt Greco-Roman

principles of design, such as symmetrical arrangements of doors and windows, the classi-

cal column, the arch and the dome. More public buildings of a nonreligious character were

built, and more substantial town houses were put up by wealthy merchants, in styles meant

to represent grandeur, or civic importance, or availability and convenience for human use.

Gardens and terraces were added to many such buildings.

Sculpture, confi ned in the Middle Ages to the niches and portals of

cathedrals, now emerged as an independent and free-standing art. Its

favored subjects were human beings, now presented so that the viewer

could walk around the object and see it from all directions. The difference

from the religious fi gures carved on medieval churches was very great. Like the architects,

the sculptors in parting from the immediate past found much in the Greek and Roman

Realism in sculpture

and painting

Lorenzo de’ Medici, known as the Magnifi cent, examines a model for a villa that was built for him about 1480 on the out- skirts of Florence. (Scala/Art Resource, NY)

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61

tradition that was modern and useful to their purpose. They produced portrait busts of

eminent contemporaries, or fi gures of great leaders, sometimes on horse-back, or statues

depicting characters from Greco-Roman history and mythology. The use of the nude, in

mythological or allegorical subjects, likewise showed a conception of humanity that was

more in keeping with the Greek than with the Christian tradition.

Painting was less infl uenced by the ancients, since the little of ancient painting that

had survived was unknown during the Renaissance. The invention of painting in oils

opened new pathways for the art. Merchants, ecclesiastics, and princes provided a mount-

ing demand. In subject matter painting remained conservative, dealing most often with

religious themes. It was the conception and presentation that were new. The new feeling

for space became evident. With the discovery of the mathematics of perspective, space

was presented in exact relation to the beholder’s eye. The viewer, in a sense, entered into

the world of the painting. A three-dimensional effect was achieved, with careful repre-

sentation of distance through variation of size, and techniques of shading or chiaroscuro

added to the illusion of physical volume. Human fi gures were often placed in a setting of

painted architecture, or against a background of landscape or scenery, showing castles

or hills, which though supposedly far away yet framed the composition with a knowable

boundary. In such a painting everything was localized in place and time; a part of the real

world was caught and put in the picture. The artistic aspiration was not to suggest eternity

or transcendent ideas, as in earlier religious painting, nor yet to express private fantasy or

the workings of the unconscious, as in much modern art, but to present a familiar theme in

an understandable setting, often with a narrative content, that is, by the telling of a story.

Like the sculptors, painters studied human anatomy and also portrayed people in dis-

tinctive and living attitudes. Faces took on more expression as artists sought to depict

individual personalities. Painting became less symbolic, less an intimation of general or

abstract truths, more a portrayal of concrete realities as they met the eye. In Bellini’s por-

trait of a condottiere (p. 62), for example, the reader can see how a strong, real, and vivid personality looks out from the canvas. Similarly, the great religious paintings were peo-

pled with human beings. In Leonardo da Vinci’s Last Supper Christ and his disciples are seen as a group of men each with his own characteristics. Raphael’s Madonnas seem to be

young Italian women, and in the mighty fi gures of Michelangelo the attributes of humanity

invade heaven itself.

Humanism: The Birth of “Literature”

The literary movement in Renaissance Italy is called humanism because of the rising inter-

est in humane letters, litterae humaniores. There had indeed been much writing in the later Middle Ages. Much of it had been of a technical character, as in theology, philosophy, or

law; some of it had been meant to convey information, as in chronicles, histories, and

descriptions of the physical world. Great hymns had been composed, lively student songs

had been sung at the universities, plays had been performed in cathedrals, and the old leg-

ends of King Arthur and Roland had been written down. Troubadours had praised the

wonders of true love, and occasionally a monk would try his hand at a long narrative

poem. Yet a new kind of literature and literary culture began to appear in the fourteenth

and fi fteenth centuries in Italy. A new class of writers looked upon literature as their main

life’s work, wrote for each other and for a somewhat larger public, and used writing to deal

with general questions, or to examine their own states of mind, or to resolve their own dif-

fi culties; or they used words to achieve artistic effects, or simply to please and amuse their

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Chapter 2 The Upheaval in Western Christendom, 1300–156062

readers. Almost all of the writers were men, but a few women also entered the new literary

culture and contributed to the era’s expanding literary themes. The writings of Christine de

Pisan, for example, helped to spread humanist ideas in France during the early fi fteenth

century (her family had moved to France from Italy) and also demonstrated that women

could participate in the debates of European intellectual life.

The Italian humanists, like their predecessors, wrote a good deal in Latin. They dif-

fered from earlier literate persons, however, in that they were usually not members of the

clergy. They complained that Latin had become monkish, barbaric, and “scholastic,” a

jargon of the schools and universities, and they greatly preferred the classic

style of a Cicero or a Livy. Medieval Latin was a vigorous living language

that used words in new senses, many of which have passed into English and

the Romance languages as perfectly normal expressions. Yet in the ancient

writers the humanists found qualities that medieval writing did not have. They discovered

a new range of interests, a new sensibility, a complex discussion of political and civic

questions, a world presented without the overarching framework of religious belief. In

addition, the Greeks and Romans unquestionably had style—a sense of form, a taste for

the elegant and the epigrammatic. They had often also written for practical ends, in dia-

logues, orations, or treatises that were designed for purposes of persuasion.

Humanists and Latin

PORTRAIT OF A CONDOTTIERE by Giovanni Bellini (Italian, 1430–1516)

This portrait provides an emphatic statement of Renais- sance individualism. The art- ist represents here a concrete, strong-willed human being rather than an abstract type, stressing his subject’s indepen- dence and self-suffi ciency by placing him against a dark and entirely vacant background. ( National Gallery of Art)

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63

If the humanists therefore made a cult of antiquity, it was because they saw kindred

spirits in ancient cultures. They sensed a relevancy for their own time. The classical infl u-

ence, never wholly absent in the Middle Ages, now reentered as a main force in the higher

civilization of Europe. The humanists polished their Latin, and increasingly they learned

Greek. They searched assiduously for classical texts hitherto unknown. Many were found;

they had of course been copied and preserved by the monks of an earlier era.

But while a special dignity attached to writing in Latin, known throughout Europe,

most of the humanists wrote in Italian also. Or rather, they used the mode of speech current

in Florence. This had also been the language of Dante in the Divine Comedy. To this vast poem the humanists now added many writings in Florentine or Tuscan

prose. The result was that Florentine became the standard form of modern

Italian. It was the fi rst time that a European vernacular—that is, the com-

mon spoken tongue as opposed to Latin—became thus standardized amid

the variety of its dialects and adapted in structure and vocabulary to the more formal

requirements of a written language. French and English soon followed, and most of the

other European languages somewhat later.

The Florentine exile, Francesco Petrarca, or Petrarch, has been called

the fi rst man of letters. The son of a merchant who had moved to the papal

city of Avignon, Petrarch spent his life in travel throughout France and

Italy. Although he trained for the law, and was ordained as a clergyman, he

became a somewhat rootless critic of these two esteemed professions, which he denounced

for their “scholasticism.” He lived in the generation after Dante, dying in 1374, and he

anticipated the more fully developed humanism that was to come. His voluminous writ-

ings show the complex, contradictory attitudes of early Renaissance thought. Attracted by

life, love, beauty, travel, and connections with people of importance in church and state, he

could also spurn all these things as ephemeral and deceptive. He loved Cicero for his com-

mon sense and his commitment to political liberty; indeed, he discovered a manuscript of

Cicero’s letters in 1345. He loved St. Augustine for his otherworldly vision of the City of

God. But in Cicero’s writings he also found a deep religious concern, and in St. Augustine

he esteemed the active man who had been a bishop, a writer heavily engaged in the contro-

versies of his time, and one who taught that for true Christians the world is not evil.

Petrarch wrote sonnets in Italian, an epic in Latin, an introspective study of himself, and

a great many letters that he clearly meant to be literary productions. He aspired to literary

fame. In all this we see a new kind of writer, who uses language not merely as a practical

tool but as a medium of more subtle expression, to commune with himself, to convey moods

of discouragement or satisfaction, to clarify doubts, to improve his own understanding of

the choices and options that life affords. With Petrarch, in short, literature became a kind of

calling, and also a consideration of moral philosophy, still related but no longer subordinate

to religion. It was moral philosophy in the widest sense, raising questions of how human

beings should adjust to the world, what a good life ought to be, and where the ultimate

rewards of living were to be found.

Petrarch was an indication of things to come. Boccaccio, his contemporary and also a

Florentine, wrote the Decameron in Italian, a series of tales designed both to entertain and to impart a certain wisdom about human character and behavior. They were followed by the

main group of humanists, far more numerous but less well remembered. Men of letters

began to take part in public life, to gather students and found schools, to

serve as secretaries to governing bodies or princes, and even to occupy

offi ce themselves. Thus the humanist Coluccio Salutati became chancellor

The vernacular

Petrarch

The humanists

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Chapter 2 The Upheaval in Western Christendom, 1300–156064

of Florence in 1375. During the following decades Florence was threatened by the expan-

sive ambitions of Milan, where the princely despotism of the Visconti family controlled the

city-state. Against such dangers a new and intense Florentine civic consciousness asserted

itself. Salutati, in addition to the usual duties of chancellor, served the state with his pen,

glorifying Florentine liberty and identifying it with the liberties of ancient republican Rome

before they were undermined by the Caesars. Two other humanists, Bruni and Poggio, suc-

ceeded him as chancellor. Bruni wrote a history of Florence that marked a new achievement

in historical writing, when compared with the annals and chronicles of the Middle Ages. He

saw the past as clearly past, different from but relevant to the present; and he introduced a

new division of historical periods. On the model of such ancient writers as Livy, he adopted

a fl owing narrative form. And he used history for a practical political purpose, to show that

Florence had a long tradition of liberty and possessed values and attainments worth fi ghting

for against menacing neighbors. History became a new kind of useful knowledge. It took on

a public value that it had once had for the Greeks and Romans and that it would retain in the

future in Europe and eventually in other parts of the world: the function of heightening a

sentiment, not yet of nationalism, but of collective civic consciousness or group identity. It

was meant to arouse its readers to a life of commitment and participation.

All this literary activity was of a scholarly type, in which authors broadened their

understanding as much by reading as by personal experience of the world. And schol-

arly activity, the habit of attending closely to what a page really said, had

consequences that went beyond either pure literature or local patriotism. A

new critical attitude developed. Bruni, in his history, showed a new analyti-

cal sense of the need for authentic sources. Lorenzo Valla became one of

the founders of textual criticism. Studying the Latin language historically, he observed

that its characteristic words and expressions varied from one time to another. He put this

Modern critical

methods

The three men in this paint- ing were Florentine humanists around 1490. They appear in a larger work that the artist Domenico Ghirlandaio painted for a chapel. Ghirlandaio fol- lowed the typical Renaissance practice of using religious sto- ries or events to convey secular subjects and ideas. (Alinari/Art Resource, NY)

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65

knowledge to the service of the king of Naples in a dispute with the pope. Valla showed,

by analysis of the language used in the document, that the Donation of Constantine, on

which the papacy then based its temporal claims, could not have been written in Constan-

tine’s time in the fourth century, and so was a forgery. Such scholarship helped establish

modern methods for assessing the truth of written texts, and it contributed also to human-

ist optimism about the range and utility of human knowledge. Pico della Mirandola and

others looked for aspects of truth not revealed in the Christian scriptures. In 1486, the

enthusiastic and very learned Pico, for example, claimed at the age of 23 that he could

summarize all human knowledge in 900 theses, which he had drawn from “the Chaldaic,

Arabic, Hebrew, Grecian, Egyptian, and Latin sages.”

Schooling, Manners, and Family Life

While Italian humanism thus contributed much to literature and scholarship, to classical

learning, and to the formation of modern national languages, it also had tangible and last-

ing effects in education. Here its impact persisted in all regions of European civilization

down to the present. The medieval universities were essentially places for professional

training in theology, medicine, and law. Except in England this continued to be their pri-

mary function. What came to be known as secondary education, the preparation of young

men either for the universities or for “life,” owes more to the Renaissance. The organized

education of women came much later; some girls learned to read at home or in one of the

few female primary schools, but young women were excluded from humanist academies

and Renaissance universities.

Medieval schooling had been chaotic and repetitious. Youngsters of all ages sat

together with a teacher, each absorbing from the confusion whatever could be understood

of Latin rules and vocabulary. The Renaissance launched the idea of put-

ting different age groups or levels of accomplishment into separate classes,

in separate rooms, each with its own teacher, with periodic promotion of

the pupil from one level to the next. Latin remained the principal subject,

with Greek now added. But many new purposes were seen in the study of Latin. It was

intended to give skill in the use of language, including the pupil’s native tongue. Rhetoric

was the art of using language to infl uence others. It heightened communication. Knowl-

edge alone was not enough, said the historian and chancellor Bruni, who also wrote a short

work on education—“to make effectual use of what we know we must add the power of

expression.” Nor was Latin merely the necessary professional tool for the priest, the phy-

sician, the lawyer, or the government servant. The student learned Latin (and Greek) in

order to read the ancient writings—epics, lyrics, orations, letters, histories, dialogues, and

philosophical treatises—and it was assumed that such writings offered practical lessons

for the educated elites of every generation. Readers therefore learned how to fi nd relevant

historical models or failures in the rise and decline of the Roman republic and the troubles

of the Greek city-states. The classics were meant also to have a moral impact, to produce

a balanced personality, and to form character. Not everyone could be important or gifted,

said the humanist Vittorino, but we all face a life of “social duty” and are responsible for

our “personal infl uence” on others. These aims became permanent themes in the educa-

tional systems that trained the young men of early modern Europe.

Young people were trained also for a more civilized deportment in everyday social liv-

ing. Personal style in the upper classes became somewhat more studied. Hitherto Europeans

had generally acted like big children; they spat, belched, and blew their noses without

Renaissance

education

6. The Renaissance in Italy

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Chapter 2 The Upheaval in Western Christendom, 1300–156066

inhibition, snatched at food with their fi ngers, bawled at each other when they were

unhappy, or sulked when their feelings were offended. It was Italians of the Renaissance

who fi rst taught more polite habits. Books of etiquette began to appear, of which the most

successful was Castiglione’s Book of the Courtier (1528). The “courtier” was ancestor to the “gentleman”; “courtesy” was originally the kind of behavior suited to princely courts.

The “courtier,” according to Castiglione, should be a man of good birth but is chiefl y

the product of training. His education in youth, and his efforts in mature years, should be

directed toward mixing agreeably in the company of his equals. His clothes

should be neat, his movements graceful, his approach to other people perfectly

poised. He must converse with facility, be profi cient in sports and arms, and

know how to dance and appreciate music. He should know Latin and Greek.

With literary and other subjects he should show a certain familiarity but never become too

engrossed. For the well-bred man speaks with “a certain carelessness, to hide his art, and

show that what he says or does comes from him without effort or deliberation.” Pedantry and

heaviness must yield to an air of effortless superiority, so that even when the courtier knows

or does something seriously, he must treat it lightly as one of many accomplishments. At its

The “courtier”

This painting by the Italian artist Lavinia Fontana (1552–1614) portrays an appreciation for the generations and social roles that constituted late Renaissance family life. Entitled simply Portrait of a Family, it arranges people by age and gender, thus suggesting a different identity and destiny for each person and each group. Fontana was one of the most prolifi c and success- ful women artists of the early modern era; and she conveyed her own knowledge of family life (having 11 children of her own) through her detailed artistic representations of specifi c indi- viduals and their social relationships. (Scala/Art Resource, NY)

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67

best, the code taught a consideration for the feelings of others and incorporated some of the

moral ideas of the humanists, aiming at a creditable life in active society. Castiglione’s book

was translated into numerous languages, and a hundred editions were printed before 1600.

Castiglione’s ideal court also included women, whose civilizing infl uence was sup-

posed to encourage the good manners, polite conversation, and cultural graces that rough-

edged men might otherwise ignore. Expressing views of men and women that shaped

much of Renaissance culture, Castiglione expected men to cultivate a “robust and sturdy

manliness,” which would be balanced in court society by the “soft and delicate tenderness”

of women. Such distinctions suggested also the gender divisions in Renaissance families

and households, including those that were far removed from the courts of princes.

The marriages that created Renaissance households grew out of careful negotiations

in which the families of prospective brides and grooms sought to enhance their respective

social positions. In Florence, for example, parents typically arranged for

their daughters to be married by age 18 to older men whose economic or

political connections would be advantageous to the young woman’s own

family. Florentine husbands, who had usually reached age 30 before their

fi rst marriage, were well advanced in trades or professions before they

established their new households, which depended also on the dowries that they received

through their marriage contracts. The different ages of husbands and wives reinforced the

gender divisions in Renaissance families; men pursued their public careers with their pro-

fessional peers while their much younger wives raised children in the home. The high

mortality rates in Renaissance cities, however, meant that women often outlived their older

husbands, and, as young widows, they were forced to raise the children and manage the

household. The young men who attended the new Renaissance schools therefore came

from families in which mothers usually provided the most important training during their

early years. Renaissance education and manners, as taught in the new schools and acad-

emies of the era, thus developed within the distinctive patterns of Italian family life and

extended the other “lessons” that women were also teaching at home.

Politics and the Italian Renaissance

The Italian Renaissance, for all its accomplishments, produced no institution or great idea

by which masses of people living in society could be held together. Indeed, the greatest

of Europe’s institutions, the Roman church, in which Europeans had lived for centuries,

and without which they did not see how they could live at all, fell into neglect under

the Renaissance popes. Nor did Italy as a whole develop any effective political institu-

tions. Florence during the fi fteenth century passed from a high-spirited republicanism to

acceptance of one-man rule. Throughout the peninsula the merchants, bankers, connois-

seurs, and courtly classes who controlled the city-states could not fi ght for themselves,

nor arouse their citizens to fi ght for them. They therefore hired professional fi ghting men,

condottieri, private leaders of armed bands, who contracted with the various city-states to carry on warfare and often raised their price or changed sides during hostilities. Italian

politics became a tangled web, a labyrinth of subterfuge and conspiracy, a platform on

which powerful individuals might exhibit their virtù. “Italian cunning” became a byword throughout Europe. Dictators rose and fell. The Medici became dukes in Florence, the

Sforza in Milan, while in Venice and Genoa, where the republics survived, narrow oligar-

chies held tight control. These states, along with the states of the church, jockeyed about

like pugilists in a ring, held within an intricate, shifting, and purely local balance of power.

Renaissance

marriages

6. The Renaissance in Italy

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Chapter 2 The Upheaval in Western Christendom, 1300–156068

Italy was the despair of its patriots, or of such few as remained. One of these was

Niccolò Machiavelli, who, in The Prince (1513), wrote the most lasting work of the Italian Renaissance. He dreamed of the day when the citizens of his native Florence, or indeed of all

The governing council in Florence deliberates on going to war against Pisa during a brief period of republican revival after the Medici were expelled in 1494. A nemesis, or omen of fail- ure and retribution, fl oats over the councilors’ heads and represents the challenge of making political decisions in a Renaissance Italian state. (Alinari/Art Resource, NY)

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69

Italy, should behave like early Romans—show virility in their politics, fi ght in citizen armies

for patriotic causes, and uphold their dignity before Europe. It was outside Italy, in kings

Ferdinand of Aragon, Louis XI of France, and Henry VII of England, that Machiavelli

was obliged to fi nd his heroes. He admired them because they knew how to

exercise power and how to build strong states. In The Prince he produced a handbook of statecraft that he hoped Italy might fi nd useful. He produced

also the fi rst purely secular treatise on politics.

Medieval writings on politics, those of Thomas Aquinas or Marsiglio of Padua, for

example, had always talked of God’s will for the government of people, with such accom-

panying matters as justice and right, or divine and natural law. All this Machiavelli put

aside. He “emancipated” politics from theology and moral philosophy. He

undertook to describe simply what rulers actually did. What really happens,

said Machiavelli, is that effective rulers and governments use their power to

act only in their own political interest. They keep faith or break it, observe

treaties or repudiate them, are merciful or ruthless, forthright or sly, peace-

able or aggressive, according to their estimates of their political needs. Machiavelli was pre-

pared to admit that such behavior was bad; he only insisted that it was in this way, however

regrettably, that successful rulers behaved. He was thought unduly cynical even in an age

that lacked political delicacy. He had nevertheless diagnosed the new era with considerable

insight. It was an age when politics was in fact breaking off from religion, with the building

up of state power and authority emerging as goals that required no other justifi cation.

But the most successful states of the time, as Machiavelli saw, were not in Italy. They

were what history knows as the New Monarchies, and they owed their strength to some-

thing more than princely craft, for they enjoyed a measure of loyalty from the people they

governed. The city-states in Renaissance Italy failed to sustain even this limited sense of

Machiavelli

Uses of political

power

NICCOLÒ MACHIAVELLI by Cristofano dell’Altissimo (Italian, c. 1525–1605)

Machiavelli’s famous book, The Prince, developed a new, secular account of how political rulers gained and consolidated their control of state power. Although his writings were criticized for ignoring Christian ethical values, Machiavelli’s ideas marked a key starting point for modern European political thought. (Corbis)

6. The Renaissance in Italy

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Chapter 2 The Upheaval in Western Christendom, 1300–156070

loyalty between governments and their people. Italian politics became an affair of indi-

vidual or elite virtù; and, as outsiders began to realize, the people of Italy lost interest in both the politics and the wars of their own city-states.

So Italy, the sunny land of balmy Mediterranean skies, rich in the busy life of its cities,

its moneyed wealth, its gorgeous works of art, became vulnerable to the depredations of less

easygoing peoples, from Spain and the north, who possessed political and military institu-

tions in which men could act together in large numbers. In a new age of

rising national monarchies the city-states of Italy were too small to compete.

In 1494 a French army crossed the Alps. Italy became a bone of contention

between France and Spain. In 1527, during a later phase of this long confl ict,

an army of undisciplined Spanish and German mercenaries, joined by footloose Italians, fell

upon Rome itself. Never, not even from the barbarian Goths of the fi fth century, had Rome

experienced anything so horrible and degrading. The city was sacked, thousands were

killed, soldiers milled about in an orgy of rape and loot, the pope was imprisoned, and car-

dinals were mockingly paraded through the streets facing backward on the backs of mules.

After the sack of Rome the Italian Renaissance faded away. Politically, for over three

hundred years, Italy remained divided, the passive object of the ambitions of outside powers.

Meanwhile its culture permeated the rest of Europe.

7. THE RENAISSANCE OUTSIDE ITALY

Outside Italy people were much less conscious of any sudden break with the Middle Ages.

Developments north of the Alps, and in Spain, were more an outgrowth of what had gone

before. There was indeed a cultural Renaissance in the Italian sense, and some Flemish

masters introduced artistic innovations even before the new techniques were used by

painters in Italy. In the north also, as in Italy, writers favored a revival of classical Latin,

but the modern written languages also began to develop.

The northern Renaissance resembled the earlier southern Renaissance in blending the

old and the new, but the religious element was much stronger than in Italy. The most

important northern humanists were writers like Thomas More in England and Erasmus in

Holland. The French humanism that produced the earthy François Rabelais also produced

the austere John Calvin.

Religious Scholarship and Science

Historians like to distinguish between the “pagan” humanism of Italy and

the Christian humanism of the north. In the north, Christian humanists stud-

ied the Hebrew and Greek texts of the Bible and read the Church Fathers,

both Latin and Greek, in order to deepen their understanding of Christianity

and to restore its moral vitality. Among people without pretense to humanistic learning,

religion also remained a force. Medieval intellectual interests persisted. This is apparent

from the continuing foundation of universities. The humanists generally regarded uni-

versities as centers of a pedantic, monkish, and scholastic learning. Concentrating upon

theology, or upon medicine and law, the universities gave little encouragement to experi-

mental science and still less to purely literary studies. In Italy in the fi fteenth century no

new universities were established. But in Spain, in France, in Scotland, in Scandinavia,

and above all in Germany, new universities continued to develop. Between 1386 and 1506

no less than 14 universities were established in Germany. At one of the newest, Witten-

berg, founded in 1502, Martin Luther was to launch the Protestant Reformation.

Italian vulnerability

Christian humanists

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717. The Renaissance outside Italy

Germany at this time, on the eve of the great religious upheaval, and before the shift

of the principal commercial arteries from central Europe to the Atlantic seaboard, was a

main center of European life. Politically, the German-speaking world was an ill-defi ned

and ill-organized region, composed of many diverse parts, from which the Netherlands and

Switzerland were not yet differentiated. Economically, nevertheless, western and southern

Germany enjoyed a lead over most of Western Europe; the towns traded busily, and

German banking families, like the famous Fugger, controlled more capital than any others

in Europe. Technical inventiveness was alive; mining was developing; and it was in the

Rhineland, at Mainz, that Gutenberg, about 1450, produced the fi rst European books

printed with movable type. In painting, the western fringe of the Germanic world produced

the Flemish masters, and south Germany gave birth to imaginative artists such as Albrecht

Dürer and the Holbeins.

Intellectually, Germany shared in the Latin culture of Europe, a fact often obscured

by the Latin names that German authors used in the early modern era. Regiomontanus (the

Latin name of Johann Müller) laid the foundations during his short lifetime (1436–1476)

for a mathematical conception of the universe. He was probably the most infl u-

ential scientifi c worker of the fi fteenth century, especially since Leonardo da

Vinci’s scientifi c labors remained unknown. Nicholas of Cusa (1401?–1464),

a Rhinelander, was a churchman whose mystical philosophy entered into the

later development of mathematics and science. From such a background of

mathematical interests came Copernicus (Niklas Koppernigk, 1473–1543), who believed

that the earth moved about the sun; he was indeed a Pole, but he came from the mixed

German-Polish region of East Prussia. Fortifi ed by the same mathematical interests, Europe’s

best-known cartographers were also Germans, such as Behaim and Schöner, whose world

maps represented the most advanced geographical knowledge of the time. Paracelsus (Latin

for Hohenheim) undertook to revolutionize medicine at the University of Basel. His wild

prophecies made him a mixture of scientist and charlatan; but, in truth, science was not

yet clearly distinguished from the occult, with which it shared the idea of control over

natural forces. A similar fi gure, remembered in literature and the arts, was the celebrated

Dr. Faustus. In real life, Faust, or Faustus, was perhaps a learned German of the fi rst part of

the sixteenth century. He was rumored to have sold his soul to the devil in return for knowl-

edge and power, The Faust story was dramatized in England as early as 1593 by Christopher

Marlowe, and, much later, by Goethe in German poetry. In the legend of Faust later genera-

tions were to see a symbol of the inordinate ambitions of modern people.

The idea that human powers could understand and control physical nature developed

especially north of the Alps, but this idea also corresponded in many ways to the more

purely Italian and humanistic emphasis on the infi nite richness of human personalities.

Together, these ideas constituted the new Renaissance spirit, for both stressed the eman-

cipation of humanity’s limitless potentialities. The two ideas constantly interacted; in

fact, most of the scientifi c workers just mentioned—Regiomontanus, Nicholas of Cusa,

Copernicus—spent many years in Italy, receiving the stimulus of Italian thought.

Mysticism and Lay Religion

In the north a genuine religious impulse went beyond the religious humanistic scholarship

and sustained a stronger interest in Christian mysticism. Where in Italy the religious sense,

if not extinct, seemed to pass into a joyous and public cult in which God was glorifi ed by

works of art, in the north it took on a more spiritual and moral tone. Germany in the

German contributions

to early modern science

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Chapter 2 The Upheaval in Western Christendom, 1300–156072

fourteenth century produced a series of mystics. The mystic tendencies of Nicholas of

Cusa have been mentioned. More typical mystics were Meister Eckhart (d. 1327) and

Thomas à Kempis (d. 1471), author of the Imitation of Christ. The essence of mysticism lay in the belief, or experience, that the individual soul could

in perfect solitude commune directly with God. The mystic had no need of

reason, nor of words, nor of joining with other people in open worship, nor

of the sacraments administered by the priests—nor even of the church. The mystics did not

rebel against the church; they accepted its pattern of salvation; but they also offered, to

those who could follow, a deeper religious experience in which the church as a social insti-

tution had no place. All social institutions, in fact, were transcended in mysticism by the

individual soul; and on this doctrine, both profound and socially disruptive, Martin Luther

was later to draw.

For the church, it was signifi cant also that religion was felt deeply outside the clergy.

Persons stirred by religion, who in the Middle Ages would have taken holy orders, now

frequently remained laymen. In the past the church had often needed reform. But in the

past, in the bad times of the tenth century, for example, the clergy had found reformers

within their own ranks. The church had thus been repeatedly reformed and renewed with-

out revolution. Now, in the fi fteenth and early sixteenth centuries an ominous line seemed

to be increasingly drawn: between the clergy as an established interest, inert and set in its

ways, merely living, and living well, off the church; and groups of people outside the

clergy—religious laypersons, religiously inclined humanists and writers, impatient and

headstrong rulers—who were more infl uential than ever before and more critical of eccle-

siastical abuses.

Lay religion was especially active in the Netherlands. A lay preacher, Gerard Groote,

attracted followers there by calling for spiritual regeneration. In 1374 he founded a reli-

gious sisterhood, which was followed by establishments for religiously minded men. They

called themselves, respectively, the Sisters and the Brothers of the Com-

mon Life, and they eventually received papal approval. They lived com-

munally, but not as monks and nuns, for they took no vows, wore ordinary

clothing, and were free to leave at will. They worked at relieving the poor

and in teaching. The schools of the Brothers, since some of them came to

have as many as a thousand boys, were the fi rst to be organized in separate

classes, each with its own room and its own teacher, according to the pupil’s age or level

of advancement. The Sisters maintained similar though less elaborate schools for girls.

Students learned to read and write, but the emphasis was on a Christian ideal of character

and conduct, and the goal was to instill such qualities as humility, tolerance, reverence, love

of one’s neighbor, and the conscientious performance of duty. This Modern Devotion,

as it was called, spread widely in the Netherlands and adjoining parts of Germany.

Erasmus of Rotterdam

In this atmosphere grew up the greatest of all the northern humanists, and

indeed the most notable fi gure of the entire humanist movement, Erasmus of

Rotterdam (1466–1536). Like all the humanists, Erasmus chose to write in

a “purifi ed” and usually intricate Latin style. He regarded the Middle Ages

as benighted, ridiculed the scholastic philosophers, and studied deeply the classical writers

of antiquity. He had the strength and the limitations of the pure man of letters. To the hard

questions of serious philosophy he was largely indifferent; he feared the unenlightened

Mysticism and the

individual soul

The Sisters and

Brothers of the

Common Life

Erasmus of Rotterdam

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73

excitability of the common people, and he was almost wholly unpolitical in his outlook. He

rarely thought in terms of worldly power or advantage and made too little allowance for

those who did. An exact contemporary to the most worldly Renaissance popes, Erasmus

was keenly aware of the need for reform of the clergy. He put his faith in education,

enlightened discussion, and gradual moral improvement. He led no burning crusade and

counseled against all violence or fanaticism. He prepared new Greek and Latin editions of

the New Testament. Urging people to read the New Testament in the vernacular languages,

he hoped that a better understanding of Christ’s teaching might turn them from their evil

ways. In his Praise of Folly he satirized all worldly pretensions and ambitions, those of the clergy most emphatically. In his Handbook of a Christian Knight he showed how a man might take part in the affairs of the world while remaining a devout Christian, and in his

infl uential treatise On Civility in Children he offered guidance for proper behavior in the social situations of daily life. Tolerance, restraint, good manners, scholarly understanding,

a love of peace, a critical and reforming zeal, and a reasonable tone from which shouting

and bad temper were always excluded—such were the Erasmian virtues.

Erasmus achieved an international eminence such as no one of purely intellectual

attainments had ever enjoyed. He corresponded with the most powerful people in Europe.

He lectured at Cambridge and edited books for a publisher at Basel. The king of Spain

named him a councilor, the king of France called him to Paris, and Pope Leo X assisted

him when he was in trouble. Theologians found fault with Erasmus’s ideas (in which,

indeed, the supernatural had little importance), but among the leaders of the church, the

popes and prelates, he had many admirers. Erasmus, it must be noted, attacked only the

abuses in the church, the ignorance or sloth of the clergy, and the moral or fi nancial cor-

ruption of their lives. The essence and principle of the Roman Catholic church he never

called into question. Whether the Erasmian spirit, so widely diffused about 1520, would

have suffi ced to restore the church without the revolutionary impact of Protestantism is

one of the many unanswerable questions of history.

ERASMUS OF ROTTERDAM by Hans Holbein, the Younger (German, 1497–1543)

This portrait was painted in 1523, when Erasmus was 56, and the Lutheran Reformation had begun in Germany. A classic portrayal of humanism at its best, the painting captures the life of thought and emphasizes the only weapon that Erasmus could use—the pen. (Alinari/Art Resource, NY)

7. The Renaissance outside Italy

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Chapter 2 The Upheaval in Western Christendom, 1300–156074

8. THE NEW MONARCHIES

Meanwhile, in Europe outside Italy, kings were actively building the institutions of the

modern state. It was these states, more than any other single factor, that were to determine

the course of the sixteenth-century religious revolution. Whether a country turned Protes-

tant, remained Catholic, or divided into separate religious communities would depend very

largely upon political considerations.

War, civil war, class war, feudal rebellion, and plain banditry affl icted a good deal

of Europe in the middle of the fi fteenth century. In this formless violence central govern-

ments had become very weak. Various rulers now tried to impose a kind of civil peace.

They have been conveniently called the New Monarchs, but they were not really very new

because they resumed the interrupted labors of kings in the High Middle Ages. They thus

laid foundations for later national, or at least territorial, states.

The New Monarchs offered the institution of monarchy as a guarantee of law and

order. Arousing latent sentiments of loyalty to the reigning dynasty, they proclaimed that

hereditary monarchy was the only legitimate form of public power. They especially enlisted

the support of middle-class people in the towns, who were tired of the private wars and

marauding habits of the feudal nobles. Townspeople were willing to let parliaments be

dominated or even ignored by the king, for parliaments had proved too often to be strong-

holds of unruly barons, or had merely accentuated class confl ict. The king, receiving money

in taxes, was able to organize armies with which to control the nobles. The use of the pike

and the longbow, which enabled the foot soldier to stand against the horseman, was here

of great potential value. The king, if only he could get his monarchy suffi ciently organized

and his fi nances into reliable order, could hire large numbers of foot soldiers, who generally

came from the growing population of commoners, unlike the knightly horsemen. But to

organize his monarchy, the king had to break down the mass of feudal, inherited, custom-

ary, or “common” law in which the rights of the feudal classes were entrenched. For this

purpose, at least on the Continent, the New Monarch made use of Roman law, which was

now actively studied in the universities. He called himself a “sovereign”—it was at this

time that kings began to be addressed as “majesty.” The king, said the experts in Roman

law, incorporated the will and welfare of the people in his own person. He could therefore

make law by his own authority, regardless of previous custom or even of historic liberties— and they quoted Latin phrases to argue that “what pleases the prince has the force of law.”

The New Monarchy in England, France, and Spain

The New Monarchy came to England with the dynasty of the Tudors

(1485–1603), whose fi rst king, Henry VII (1485–1509), after gaining the

throne by force, put an end to the civil turbulence of the Wars of the Roses.

In these wars the great English baronial families had seriously weakened each other, to the

great convenience of the king and the bulk of the citizenry. Henry VII passed laws against

“livery and maintenance,” the practice by which great lords maintained private armies

wearing their own livery or insignia, and he used his royal council as a new court to deal

with property disputes and infractions of the public peace. It met in a room decorated with

stars, whence its name, the Star Chamber. It represented the authority of the king and his

council, and it operated without a jury. Later denounced as an instrument of despotism, it

was popular enough at fi rst, because it preserved order and rendered substantial justice.

Henry VII, though miserly and unpleasant in person, was accepted as a good ruler. National

feeling in England consolidated around the house of Tudor.

The Tudors

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75

In France the New Monarchy was represented by Louis XI (1461–1483), of the Valois

line, and his successors. In the fi ve centuries since the fi rst French king had been crowned,

the royal domain had steadily expanded from its original small nucleus

around Paris through a combination of inheritance, marriage, war, intrigue,

and conquest. Louis XI continued to round out the French borders. Inter-

nally, he built up a royal army, suppressed brigands, and subdued rebellious

nobles. He acquired far greater powers than the English Tudors to raise taxation without

parliamentary consent. The French monarchy also enlarged its powers over the clergy. We

have seen how, by the Pragmatic Sanction of 1438, the Gallican church had won consider-

able independence to manage its own administrative affairs. In 1516 King Francis I reached

an agreement with Pope Leo X in the Concordat of Bologna, which rescinded the Prag-

matic Sanction. The pope henceforth received fi nancial income from French ecclesiastics,

but the king appointed the French bishops and abbots. The fact that, after 1516, the kings

of France already controlled their own national clergy was one reason why, in later years,

they were never tempted to turn Protestant.

Strictly speaking, there was no kingdom of Spain. Various Spanish king-

doms had combined into two, Aragon and Castile. To Aragon, which lay

along the Mediterranean side of the peninsula, belonged the Balearic Islands,

Sardinia, Sicily, and the south Italian kingdom of Naples. To Castile, after 1492, belonged

the newly discovered Americas. The two were joined in a personal union by the marriage of

Ferdinand of Aragon and Isabella of Castile in 1469. The union was personal only; that is,

both kingdoms recognized the two monarchs, but they had no common political, judicial,

or administrative institutions. There was little or no Spanish national feeling; indeed, the

Catalans in northern Aragon spoke a language quite different from Castilian Spanish. The

most signifi cant common feeling throughout Spain came from the sense of belonging to

the Spanish Catholic church. The common memory was that of the Christian crusade against

the Moors. The one common institution, whose offi cials had equal authority and equal access

to all the kingdoms, was a church court, the Inquisition. Meanwhile, the reconquista was at last completed when the southern tip of Spain, Granada, was conquered from the Moors in

1492. Its annexation added to the heterogeneous character of the Spanish dominions.

In these circumstances the New Monarchy in Spain followed a religious bent.

Unifi cation took place around the church. The rulers, though they made efforts at political

centralization, worked largely through facilities offered by the church, and the early sense

of “Spanishness” was linked to a sense of Catholicity. Formerly the Spanish had been

among the most tolerant of Europeans; Christians, Muslims, and Jews had managed to

live together. But in the wave of religious excitement that accompanied the conquest of

Granada both the Jews and the Moors were expelled. The expulsion of the Jews by a

decree of 1492 was actually a sign of former toleration in Spain, for the Jews had been ear-

lier expelled from England in 1290 and from France in 1306. They were not again legally

allowed in England until the mid-seventeenth century, nor in France (with some excep-

tions) until the French Revolution. In Spain, as in the history of many European peoples, the

emergence of an early “national” consciousness seemed to express or produce an anti-

Semitism that defi ned Jews as “outsiders.” 2

The Valois

Aragon and Castile

2 The Jews who left Spain (the Sephardic Jews) went to North Africa and the Middle East, and in smaller numbers

to the Dutch Netherlands and even to southwestern France (one of the exceptions noted above). Those who left

England two centuries earlier generally went to Germany, the great center of Ashkenazic Jewry in the Middle

Ages. Driven from Germany in the fourteenth century they concentrated in Poland, which remained a great center

of European Jews until the Nazi massacres of the 1940s.

8. The New Monarchies

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Chapter 2 The Upheaval in Western Christendom, 1300–156076

All persons in Spain were now supposed to be Christians. In fact, however, Spain was

one of the places in Europe where a person’s Christianity could not be taken for granted,

because many Spanish families had been Jewish or Muslim for centuries and had only

accepted Christianity to avoid expulsion. Hence arose a fear of false Chris-

tians, of an unassimilated element secretly hostile to the foundations of

Spanish life. It was feared that Moriscos (Christians of Moorish back-

ground) and Marranos (Christians of Jewish background) retained a clan-

destine sympathy for the religion of their forebears. Thousands of such

persons were brought before the Inquisition, where, as in the civil courts under Roman

procedure, torture could be employed to extort confessions. It was thus safest to be profuse

in one’s external religious devotions because adherence to the Catholic Church became the

way of proving oneself to be a good Spaniard.

The life of Spain carried forward some of the long-existing commitment to a crusade—

which had now evolved into a campaign within Spain against Moriscos and Marranos, and

a new campaign against the Moors in Africa itself, which the Spanish invaded immedi-

ately after the conquest of Granada. The Spanish also extended their religious energies into

the Americas, where the Spanish church set about gathering the Indians into the Christian

fold. And Spain’s strong religious identity would soon contribute to its growing role in the

wider political and religious confl icts of sixteenth-century Europe. The Spanish history of

crusades against Muslims had prepared the country (before Protestantism ever appeared) to

become a leading defender of Roman Catholic traditions as well as an advocate for Catholic

renewal and internal reforms.

The Holy Roman Empire and the Habsburg Supremacy

Ideas of the New Monarchy were at work even in Germany, which is to say, in the Holy

Roman Empire. There were three kinds of states in the empire. There were the princely states

such as Saxony, Brandenburg, or Bavaria, each of which was a small hereditary dynastic

monarchy in itself. There were also ecclesiastical states—bishoprics, abbacies, etc.—in

which the bishop or abbot, whose rule was of course not hereditary, conducted the govern-

ment. A large portion of the area of the empire consisted of these church-states. Third, there

were the imperial free cities, some 50 in number; their collective area was not large, but they

dominated the commercial and fi nancial life of the country.

The German states, over the centuries, had prevented the emperor from infringing

upon their local liberties. They had taken care to keep the emperorship an elective offi ce,

so that with each election local liberties could be reaffi rmed. After 1356 the right of elect-

ing an emperor was vested in seven electors: four of the princely lords—the

Count Palatine, Duke of Saxony, Margrave of Brandenburg, and King of

Bohemia—and three of the ecclesiastical lords—the archbishops of Mainz,

Trier, and Cologne. In 1452 the electors chose the Archduke of Austria to

be emperor. His family name was Habsburg. The Habsburgs, by using the resources of their

hereditary possessions in Austria (and later elsewhere) and by delicately balancing and brib-

ing the numerous political forces within Germany, managed to get themselves consistently

reelected to the Holy Roman emperorship in every generation, with one exception, from 1452

until 1806. The Habsburg emperors also tried to introduce the centralizing principles of the

New Monarchy into an empire that lacked institutions for the exercise of centralized power.

Under Maximilian I (1493–1519) there seemed to be progress in that direction: the

empire was divided into administrative “circles,” and an Imperial Chamber and Council were

Fusing the national

and the Catholic

The Habsburgs

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779. The Protestant Reformation

created, but they were all doomed to failure before the immovable obstacle of states’ rights.

Maximilian was also the author of the Habsburg family fortunes through his strategic use of

royal marriages, which brought the Habsburgs into control of a vast empire. Maximilian’s

grandson, Charles, thus inherited from his four grandparents the lands of Austria, the Nether-

lands, and part of Burgundy; Castile and Aragon in Spain; the whole of Spanish America; and

scattered possessions in Italy and the Mediterranean. In addition, in 1519, Charles was elected

Holy Roman Emperor and so became the symbolic head of all Germany.

Charles V of the empire (he was known as Charles I in Spain) was thus beyond all

comparison the most powerful ruler of his day. But still other fortunes awaited the house of

Habsburg. The Turks, who had occupied Constantinople in 1453, were at this time push-

ing through Hungary and menacing central Europe. In 1526 they defeated

the Hungarians at the battle of Mohacs. The parliaments of Hungary, and

of the adjoining kingdom of Bohemia, hoping to gain allies in the face of

the Turkish threat, thereupon elected Charles V’s brother Ferdinand as their

king. Ferdinand soon lost much of Hungary to the Turkish Sultan, Suleiman I, but he

retained his royal crown and gradually expanded Habsburg infl uence in central Europe.

No royal family since Charlemagne had stood so far above all rivals. Contemporaries cried

that Europe was threatened with “universal monarchy,” with a kind of imperial system in

which no people could preserve its independence from the Habsburgs.

The reader who wishes to understand the early modern European religious revolution

and the consequent emergence of Protestantism must bear in mind the intricate interplay

of the factors that have now been outlined: the decline of the church; the growth of secular

and humanistic feeling; the spread of lay religion outside the offi cial clergy; the rise of

monarchs who wished to control everything in their kingdoms, including the church; the

resistance of feudal elements to these same monarchs; the lassitude of the popes and their

fear of church councils; the division of Germany; the Turkish entry into central Europe;

the crusading traditions in Spain; the preeminence of Charles V; and the fears felt in other

countries, especially in France, of absorption by the amazing empire of the Habsburgs.

9. THE PROTESTANT REFORMATION

Three streams contributed to the religious upheaval in sixteenth-century Europe. First,

among common people, or the laboring poor, who might fi nd their spokesmen among local

priests, there was an endemic dissatisfaction with all the grand apparatus of the church, or

a belief that its bishops and abbots were part of a wealthy and oppressive

ruling class. For such people, religious ideas became mixed with a protest

against the whole social order. They found expression in the great peasant

rebellion in Germany in the 1520s. The sects that emerged from these social

groups are known historically as Anabaptists, and the modern Baptists, Mennonites, and

Moravian Brothers are among their descendants. Second, and forming a group generally

more educated and with broader views of the world, were the middle classes of various

European cities, especially of cities that were almost autonomous little republics, as in

Germany, Switzerland, and the Netherlands. They might wish to manage their own reli-

gious affairs as they did their other business, believing that the church hierarchy was too

much embedded in a feudal, baronial, and monarchical system with which they had little in

common. The modern churches of Calvinist origin came in large part from this stream.

Third, there were the ruling sovereigns and princes, who had long disputed with the church

on matters of property, taxes, legal jurisdiction, and political infl uence. All such rulers

Charles V

Political and social

discontents

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Chapter 2 The Upheaval in Western Christendom, 1300–156078

wanted to be masters in their own territory. In the end it was the power of such rulers that

determined which form of religion should offi cially prevail. The Lutheran and Anglican

churches were in this tradition, and to some extent the Gallican church, as

the French branch of the Roman Catholic church was called. As it turned

out, by 1600, the second and third streams had won many successes, but the

fi rst was suppressed. Socio-religious radicalism was reduced to an under-

current in countries where Anglican, Lutheran, Calvinist, or Roman Catholic churches

were established during the sixteenth century.

Since northern Europe became Protestant while the south remained Catholic, it may

look as if the north had broken off in a body from a once solid Roman church. The reality

was not so simple. Let us for a moment put aside the term “Protestant,” and think of the

adherents of the new religion as religious revolutionaries. 3 Their ideas were revolutionary

Strands of

Protestantism

This painting entitled Interrogation of the Jews, by an unknown artist in the 1480s, suggests the dangers that non-Christian people faced in late fi fteenth-century Spain. Infl uential, wealthy interrogators ques- tioned the beliefs or behavior of persons whose religion made them “suspicious” and vulnerable to the powerful people who distrusted them. (The Granger Collection, NYC)

3 The word “Protestant” arose as an incident in the struggle, at fi rst denoting certain Lutherans who drew up a

formal protest against an action of the diet of the empire in 1529. Only very gradually did the various groups of

anti-Roman reformers think of themselves as collectively Protestant.

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79

EUROPE, 1526 The main feature of the political map of Europe about 1526 is the predominance of the house of Habsburg. Much of Europe was ruled by the Habsburg Emperor Charles V, who was at the same time King Charles I of Spain. Charles left his possessions in Austria, Hungary, and Bohemia to his brother and those in Spain, the Netherlands, Italy, and America to his son, thereby establish- ing the Austrian and Spanish branches of the Habsburg dynasty. France was nearly encircled by Habsburg dominions and habitually formed alliances to oppose the Habsburg kings.

Habsburg Dominions

Church Lands

Boundary of Holy Roman Empire

0 100 200 300 miles

Aegean Sea

B l a c k S e a

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Dublin

Edinburgh

York

London Canterbury

Calais (England)

St. Malo Paris

Rouen

Orléans

Angoulême

Bordeaux

Bourges

Bayonne

Avignon

Marseille

Barcelona

Santiago

Burgos

Valladolid

Escorial

Oporto

Lisbon

Toledo

Madrid

Seville Granada Cadiz

Valencia

Melilla (Spain) Algiers

Tunis

Rome

Naples

Florence

Venice

Parma Milan

Worms

Sofia

Mohacs

Belgrade

Salonica

Palermo Lepanto

Bucharest

Adrianople

Constantinople

Smyrna

Munich

Augsburg

Ratisbon

Hamburg

Berlin Wittenberg

Prague

Danzig

Copenhagen

Warsaw

Helsingfors

Stockholm

Riga

Novgorod

Moscow

Vilna

Kiev

Genoa

Geneva

Strasbourg Vienna

Budapest

Trent

Basel

Metz

Brussels Antwerp

Münster

Cologne

Breslau Cracow

Schmalkalden

Trier Lemberg

Bergen Oslo

because they held, not merely that “abuses” in the church must be corrected, but also that

the Roman church itself was wrong in principle. Even so, there were many who hoped,

for years, that old and new ideas of the church might be combined. Many deplored the

extremes but gradually in the heat of struggle had to choose one side or the other. The

issues became drawn, and each side aspired to destroy its adversary. For over a century

the revolutionaries maintained the hope that “popery” would everywhere fall. For over a

9. The Protestant Reformation

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Chapter 2 The Upheaval in Western Christendom, 1300–156080

century the upholders of the old order worked to annihilate or reconvert “heretics.” Only

slowly did Catholics and Protestants come to accept each other’s existence as an estab-

lished fact of European society. Though the religious frontier that was to prove permanent

appeared as early as 1560, it was not generally accepted until after the Thirty Years’ War,

which ended in 1648.

Luther and Lutheranism

The fi rst who successfully defi ed the older church authorities was Martin Luther. He was a

monk, and an earnest one, until he was almost 40 years old. A vehement and spiritually

uneasy man, with many dark and introspective recesses in his personality, Luther was

terrifi ed by the thought of the awful omnipotence of God, distressed by his

own sense of inadequacy, apprehensive of the devil, and suffering from the

chronic conviction that he was damned. The means offered by the church to

allay such spiritual anguish—the sacraments, prayer, attendance at Mass—

gave him no satisfaction. From a reading and pondering of St. Paul

(Romans i, 17)—“the just shall live by faith”—there dawned upon him a new realization

and sense of peace. He developed the doctrine of justifi cation by faith alone. This held that

what “justifi es” a person is not what the church knew as “works” (prayer, alms, the sacra-

ments, holy living) but “faith alone,” an inward bent of spirit given to each soul directly by

God. Good works, Luther thought, were the consequence and external evidence of this

inner grace, but in no way its cause. People did not “earn” grace by doing good; they did the

good because they possessed the grace of God. With this idea Luther for some years lived

content. Even years later some high-placed churchmen believed that in Luther’s doctrine of

justifi cation by faith there was nothing contrary to the teachings of the Catholic church.

Luther, now a professor at Wittenberg, was brought out of seclusion by an incident

of 1517. A friar named Tetzel was traveling through Germany distributing indulgences,

authorized by the pope to fi nance the building of St. Peter’s in Rome. Tetzel claimed that

indulgences would free people from some of the punishments of purgatory,

and in return for the indulgences the faithful paid certain stipulated sums of

money. Luther thought that people were being deluded, that no one could

obtain grace in this way, or ease the pains of relatives in purgatory, as was

offi cially claimed. In the usual academic manner of the day, he posted 95 theses on the

door of the castle church at Wittenberg. Reviewing the Catholic sacrament of penance,

Luther held in these theses that, after confession, the sinner is freed of sinful burdens

not by the priest’s absolution but by inner grace and faith alone. Increasingly, as Luther

described his view of Christian faith, it seemed that the priesthood performed no necessary

function in the spiritual relation between human beings and God.

Luther at fi rst appealed to the pope, Leo X, to correct the abuse of indulgences in

Germany. When the pope refused action Luther (like many before him) urged the assembly

of a general church council as a religious authority above the pope. He was obliged, how-

ever, to admit in public debate that even the decision of a general council might be mistaken.

The Council of Constance, he said, had in fact erred in its condemnation of John Huss. But

if neither the pope, nor yet a council, had authority to defi ne true Christian belief, where was

such authority to be found? Luther’s answer was, in effect: there is no such authority. He

held that individuals might read the Bible and freely make their own interpretations accord-

ing to their own conscience. This idea was as revolutionary for the church as would be the

assertion today that neither the Supreme Court nor any other body may authoritatively

Luther’s “justifi cation

by faith”

Indulgences

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81

interpret or enforce the Constitution of the United States, since each citizen may interpret the

Constitution in his or her own way.

From his fi rst public appearance Luther won ardent supporters, for there was a good

deal of resentment in Germany against Rome. In 1519 and 1520 he rallied public opin-

ion in a series of tracts, setting forth his main beliefs. He declared that the claim of the

clergy to be different from the laity was an imposture. He urged people

to fi nd Christian truth in the Bible for themselves, and in the Bible only.

He denounced the reliance on fasts, pilgrimages, saints, and Masses. He

rejected the belief in purgatory. He reduced the seven sacraments to two—

baptism and the communion, as he called the Mass. In the latter he repudi-

ated the new and “modern” doctrine of transubstantiation, while affi rming that God was

still somehow mysteriously present in the bread and wine. He declared that the clergy

should marry, upbraided the prelates for their luxury, and demanded that monasticism be

eliminated. To drive through such reforms, while depriving the clergy of their pretensions,

he called upon the temporal power, the princes of Germany. He thus issued an invitation

to the state to assume control over religion, an invitation which, in the days of the New

Monarchy, a good many rulers were enthusiastically willing to accept.

Threatened by a papal bull with excommunication unless he recanted, Luther solemnly

and publicly burned the bull. Excommunication followed. To the emperor, Charles V,

Luther’s criticisms of

the Church

Martin Luther and his wife Catherine, portrayed here by the artist Lucas Cranach, the Elder, represent the acceptance of marriage among the clergy and religious leaders of the new Prot- estant churches. Catherine had lived in a convent before she married Luther and took on the new tasks of a religious wife in a Protestant minister’s household. (Scala/Art Resource, NY)

9. The Protestant Reformation

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Chapter 2 The Upheaval in Western Christendom, 1300–156082

now fell the duty of apprehending the heretic and repressing the heresy. Luther was sum-

moned to appear before a diet of the empire, held at Worms in the Rhineland. He declared

that he could be convinced only by Scripture or right reason; otherwise “I neither can nor

will recant anything, since it is neither right nor safe to act against conscience. God help

me! Amen.” He was placed under the ban of the empire. But the Elector of Saxony and

other north German princes took him under their protection. In safe seclusion, he began to

translate the Bible into German.

Lutheranism quickly swept over Germany, assuming the proportions of

a national upheaval. It became mixed with all kinds of political and social

revolution. A league of imperial knights, adopting Lutheranism, attacked

their neighbors, the church-states of the Rhineland, hoping by annexations to enlarge their

own meager territories. In 1524 the peasants of a large part of Germany revolted. They

were stirred by new religious ideas, worked upon by preachers who went beyond Luther

in asserting that each individual could readily understand what was right or wrong. Their

aims, however, were social and economic; they demanded a regulation of rents and secu-

rity of common village rights and complained of exorbitant exactions and oppressive rule

by their manorial overlords. Luther repudiated all connection with the peasants, called

them fi lthy swine, and urged the princes to suppress them by the sword. The peasants were

unmercifully put down, but popular unrest continued to stir the country, expressing itself,

in a religious age, in various forms of extreme religious frenzy.

Various religious leaders attracted devout followers, who came to be known collec-

tively as Anabaptists. Some said that all the world needed was love, some that Christ would

soon come again, some that they were saints and could do no wrong, and some that infant

baptism was useless, immersion of full-grown adults being required, as described in the

Bible. The roads of Germany were alive with religious radicals, of whom some tens of

thousands converged in 1534 on the city of Münster. There they proclaimed the reign of the

saints, abolished property, and introduced polygamy as sanctioned in the Old Testament.

A Dutch tailor, John of Leyden, claimed that authority came to him directly from God.

Hemmed in by besieging armies, he ruled Münster by a revolutionary terror. Luther advised

his followers to join even with Catholics to repress such a dangerous religious and social

menace. After a full year Münster fell to the forces of its former rulers. The “saints” were

pitilessly rooted out; John of Leyden died in torture.

Luther, horrifi ed at the way in which religious revolution became confused with social

revolution, defi ned his own position more conservatively. He restricted, while never deny-

ing, the right of private judgment in matters of conscience, and he made a larger place

for an established clergy, Lutheranized, to be sure, but still established as

teachers over the laity. Always well disposed to temporal rulers, having

called upon the princes to act as religious reformers, he was thrown by the

peasant and Anabaptist uprisings into an even closer alliance with them.

Lutheranism became more submissive to the state. Christian liberty, Luther insisted, was

an internal freedom, purely spiritual, known only to God. In worldly matters, he said, the

good Christian owed obedience to established authority. Lutheranism thus came to view

the state with more deference and respect than governments usually received from either

Roman Catholicism or the Calvinism that soon arose.

In the revolution that was rocking Germany it was not the uprising of imperial knights,

nor that of peasants or tailors and journeymen, that was successful, but the rebellion of

the higher orders of the Empire against the emperor. Charles V, as Holy Roman Emperor,

was bound to uphold Catholicism because only in a Catholic world did the Holy Empire

Social revolution

Luther’s reaction

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83

have any meaning. The states of the empire, always fearing the loss of local liberty, saw in

Charles’s efforts to repress Luther a threat to their own freedom. Many imperial free cities,

and most of the dynastic states of north Germany, now insisted on adding

to their other rights and liberties the right, or liberty, to determine their

own religion. The right or power to reform, they said, belonged to member

states, not to the empire itself. They became Lutheran, locally, introduc-

ing Lutheran bishops, doctrines, and forms of worship. Where a state turned Lutheran it

usually confi scated the church properties within its borders, a process that consider-

ably enriched some of the Lutheran princes and gave them a strong material interest in

the success of the Lutheran movement. In most of the church-states, since the Catholic

archbishop or bishop was himself the government, Catholicism prevailed. But a few

church-states turned Lutheran. A good example of the secularization of a church-

state was afforded in East Prussia, just outside the empire. This territory belonged to

the Teutonic Order, a Catholic organization of which the grand commander, an elective

offi cial, was at this time Albert of Brandenburg. In 1525 Albert declared for Luther and

converted East Prussia into a secular duchy, of which he and his descendants became

hereditary dukes.

The radical Anabaptist move- ment in Münster was severely repressed after the city’s former rulers regained control in early 1536. This illustration depicts the public torture and death of John of Leyden, whose punishment served as a vivid warning to other revolutionary Protestants throughout Germany. (akg-images/Newscom)

9. The Protestant Reformation

Political rebellion

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Chapter 2 The Upheaval in Western Christendom, 1300–156084

Against the emperor, a group of Lutheran princes and free cities formed the League of

Schmalkald. The king of France, Francis I, though a Catholic in good standing, allied with

and supported the League. Political interests overrode religious ones. Against the “univer-

sal monarchy” of the swollen Habsburgs the French found alliances where they could,

allying with the Turks as with the Lutherans, building up a balance of power against their

mighty foe. It became the studied policy of Catholic France to maintain the religious divi-

sion of Germany.

Threatened by French and Turkish armies and challenged by the resistance of German

princes within his own empire, Charles appealed to the pope, urging him to assemble a

Europe-wide council in which all disputed matters could be considered, the Protestants

could be heard, compromises could be effected, and church unity and

German unity (such as it was) could be restored. The king of France

schemed at Rome to prevent the pope from calling any such council. The

kings of both France and England urged national councils instead, in which

religious questions could be settled on a national basis. Pope after pope

delayed. The papacy feared that a council of all Latin Christendom might get out of con-

trol, since Catholics as much as Protestants demanded reform. To the papacy, remembering

the Council of Constance, nothing was more upsetting than the thought of a council, not

even the Protestants, not even the Turks. So the popes procrastinated, no council met, years

passed, and a new generation grew up in Lutheranism. Meanwhile the Schmalkaldic

League, allied with France, actually went to war with the emperor in 1546. Germany fell

into an anarchy of civil struggle between Catholic and Protestant states, the latter aided by

France. The war was ended by the Peace of Augsburg of 1555.

The terms set at Augsburg signifi ed a complete victory for the cause of Lutheranism

and states’ rights. Each state of the empire received the liberty to be either Lutheran or

Catholic as it chose. No individual freedom of religion was permitted; if

a ruler or a free city decided for Lutheranism, then all persons had to be

Lutheran. Similarly in Catholic states all had to be Catholic. The Peace of

Augsburg provided also, by the so-called Ecclesiastical Reservation, that

Charles’s appeals to

the papacy

The Peace of

Augsburg

CHRONOLOGY OF NOTABLE EVENTS, 1309–1555

1309–1378 “Babylonian Captivity”: Papacy in Avignon

1337–1453 Hundred Years’ War between England and France

1348–1350 Black Death decimates European population

c. 1350–1500 Renaissance Humanism and Art

1378–1417 Schism of Roman Catholic Church: Popes in Avignon and Rome

1454 Johann Gutenberg begins printing books with movable type

1494 French invasion of Italy destroys independence of city-states

1513 Niccolò Machiavelli writes The Prince

1517 Martin Luther posts his “95 theses”; beginning of Protestant Reformation

1545–1563 Roman Catholic Council meets at Trent; promotes Catholic reforms

1555 Peace of Augsburg recognizes Protestant and Catholic states in Germany

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85

any Catholic bishop or other churchman who turned Lutheran in the future (or who had

turned Lutheran as recently as 1552) should not carry his territory with him, but should turn

Lutheran as an individual and move away, leaving his land and its inhabitants Catholic.

Since the issues in Germany were still far from stabilized, this proviso was often disre-

garded in later years.

The Peace of Augsburg was thus, in religion, a great victory for Protestantism, and at

the same time, in German politics and constitutional matters, a step in the disintegration

of Germany into a mosaic of increasingly separate states. Lutheranism prevailed in the

north and in the south in the duchy of Württemberg and various detached islands formed

by Lutheranized free cities. Catholicism prevailed in the south (except in Württemberg and

certain cities), in the Rhine valley, and in the direct possessions of the house of Habsburg,

which in 1555 reached as far north as the Netherlands. The Germans, because of condi-

tions in the Holy Roman Empire, were the one large European people to emerge from the

religious confl ict almost evenly divided between Catholic and Protestant.

No rights were granted by the Peace of Augsburg to another group of religious revo-

lutionaries which neither Lutherans nor Catholics were willing to tolerate, namely, the

followers of John Calvin.

Lutheranism was also adopted by the kings of Denmark and Sweden as early as the

1520s. Since Denmark controlled Norway, and Sweden ruled Finland and the eastern

Baltic, all Scandinavia and the Baltic regions became, like north Germany, Lutheran.

Beyond this area Lutheranism failed to take root. Like Anglicanism in England (to be

described shortly), Lutheranism was too closely associated with established states to

spread easily as an international movement. The most successful international form of the

Protestant movement was Calvinism.

Calvin and Calvinism

John Calvin was a Frenchman, born Jean Cauvin, who called himself Calvinus in Latin.

Born in 1509, he was a full generation younger than Luther. He was trained both as a priest

and as a lawyer and had a humanist’s knowledge of Latin and Greek, as well as Hebrew.

At the age of 24, experiencing a sudden conversion, or fresh insight into the

meaning of Christianity, he joined forces with the religious revolutionar-

ies of whom the best known was then Luther. Three years later, in 1536,

he published, in the international language, Latin, his Institutes of the Christian Religion. Where Luther had aimed much of his writing either at the existing rulers of Germany, or at the German national feeling against Rome, Calvin addressed his

Institutes to all the world. He seemed to appeal to human reason itself; he wrote in the severe, logical style of the trained lawyer; he dealt fi rmly, lucidly, and convincingly with

the most basic theological issues. In the Institutes people in all countries, if dissatisfi ed with the existing Roman church, could fi nd cogent expression of universal propositions,

which they could apply to their own local circumstances as they required.

With Luther’s criticisms of the Roman church, and with most of Luther’s fundamental

religious ideas, such as justifi cation by faith and not by works, Calvin agreed. In what they

retained of the Catholic Mass, the communion or Lord’s Supper as they called it, Luther

and Calvin developed certain doctrinal differences. Both rejected transubstantiation, but

where Luther insisted that God was somehow actually present in the bread and wine used

in the service (“consubstantiation”), Calvin and his followers tended more to regard it as a

pious act of symbolic or commemorative character.

Calvin’s Doctrines

9. The Protestant Reformation

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Chapter 2 The Upheaval in Western Christendom, 1300–156086

There were two chief differences between Calvin and Luther. Calvin made far more of

the idea of predestination. Both, drawing heavily on St. Augustine, held that human beings

could never earn salvation by their own actions, that any grace that anyone possessed came

from the free action of God alone. God, being Almighty, knew and willed

in advance all things that happened, including the way in which every life

would turn out. God thus knew and willed that some were saved and some

were damned. Calvin, a severe critic of human nature, felt that those who

had grace were relatively few. They were the “elect,” the “godly,” the small group chosen

without merit of their own for salvation. People could feel in their own minds that they

were among the saved, God’s chosen few, if throughout all trials and temptations they

persisted in pursuing a saintly life. Thus the idea of predestination, of God’s omnipotence,

instead of turning to fatalism and resignation, became a challenge to unrelenting effort, a

sense of burning conviction, a conviction of being on the side of that Almighty Power

which must in the end be everlastingly triumphant. It was the most resolute spirits that

were attracted to Calvinism. Calvinists, in all countries, were militant, uncompromising,

perfectionist—or Puritan, as they were called fi rst in England and later in America.

The second way in which Calvinism differed from Lutheranism was in its attitude to

society and to the state. Calvinists refused to recognize the subordination of church to

state, or the right of any government to lay down laws for religion. On the contrary, they

insisted that true Christians, the elect or godly, should Christianize the state. They wished

to remake society itself into the image of a religious community. They rejected the institu-

tion of bishops (which both the Lutheran and Anglican churches retained) and provided

instead that the church should be governed by presbyteries, elected bodies made up of

ministers and devout laymen. By thus bringing an element of lay control into church

affairs, they broke the monopoly of priestly power and so promoted secularization. On the

other hand, they were the reverse of secular, for they wished to Christianize all society.

Calvin, called in by earlier reformers who had driven out their bishop, was able to set

up his model Christian community at Geneva in Switzerland. A body of ministers ruled the

church; a consistory of ministers and elders ruled the town. The rule was strict; all loose,

light, or frivolous living was suppressed; disaffected persons were driven

into exile. The form of worship was severe and favored the intellectual

rather than the emotional or the aesthetic. The service was devoted largely

to long sermons elucidating Christian doctrine, and all appeals to the

senses—color, music, incense—were rigidly subdued. The black gown of Geneva replaced

brighter clerical vestments. Images, representing the saints, Mary, or Christ, were taken

down and destroyed. Candles went the way of incense. Chanting was replaced by the sing-

ing of hymns. Instrumental music was frowned upon, and many Calvinists thought even

bells to be a survival of “popery.” In all things Calvin undertook to regulate his church by

the Bible. Nor was he more willing than Luther to countenance any doctrine more radical

than his own. When a Spanish refugee, Michael Servetus, who rejected the doctrine of the

Trinity and thus denied the divinity of Christ, sought asylum at Geneva, Calvin pronounced

him a heretic and had him burned at the stake.

Reformers of all nationalities fl ocked to Geneva to see and study a true scriptural com-

munity so that they might reproduce it in their own countries. Geneva became the Protestant

Rome, the one great international center of Reformed doctrine. Everywhere

Calvinists made their teachings heard (even in Spain and Italy in isolated

cases), and everywhere, or almost everywhere, little groups that had locally

and spontaneously broken with the old church found in Calvin’s Institutes

Predestination

Calvin’s Geneva

The spread of

Calvinism

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87

a reasoned statement of doctrine and a suggested method of organization. Thus Calvinism

spread very widely. In Hungary and Bohemia large elements turned Protestant, and usually

Calvinist, partly as a way of opposing the Habsburg rule. In Poland there were many

Calvinists, along with less-organized Anabaptists and Unitarians, or Socinians, as those

who denied the Trinity were then called. Calvinists spread in Germany, where, opposing

both Lutheran and Catholic churches as ungodly impositions of worldly power, they were

disliked equally by both. In France the Huguenots were Calvinist, as were the Protestants

of the Netherlands. John Knox in the 1550s brought Calvinism to Scotland, where Presby-

terianism became and remained the established religion. At the same time Calvinism began

to penetrate England, from which it was later to reach British America, giving birth to the

Presbyterian and Congregationalist churches of the United States.

Calvinism was far from democratic in any modern sense. It carried an almost aris-

tocratic outlook, in that those who sensed themselves to be God’s chosen few felt free to

dictate to the wider population of lost souls. Yet in many ways Calvinism

entered into the development of what became democracy. For one thing,

Calvinists never venerated the state; they always held that the sphere of

the state and of public life was subject to moral judgment. For another,

the Calvinist doctrine of the “calling” taught that a person’s labor had a

religious dignity and that any form of honest work was pleasing in the sight of God. In the

conduct of their own affairs Calvinists developed a type of self-government. They formed

“covenants” with one another and devised machinery for the election of presbyteries. They

refused to believe that authority was transmitted downward through bishops or through

kings. They were inclined also to a democratic outlook, because in most countries they

remained an unoffi cial minority. Only at Geneva, in the Dutch Netherlands, in Scotland,

Calvinism and

democracy

This image of John Calvin suggests that his infl uence among Protestants came from his intellectual rigor as well as his disciplined leadership of the religious reformers in Geneva. (Bridgeman-Giraudon/Art Resource, NY)

9. The Protestant Reformation

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Chapter 2 The Upheaval in Western Christendom, 1300–156088

and in New England (and for a few years in England in the seventeenth century) were

Calvinists ever able to prescribe the mode of life and religion of a whole country. In England,

France, and Germany, Calvinists remained in opposition to the established authorities of

church and state and hence were disposed to favor limitations upon established power.

In Poland and Hungary many Calvinists were nobles who disliked royal authority.

The Reformation in England

England was peculiar in that its government broke with the Roman church before adopting

any Protestant principles. Henry VIII (1509–1547) in fact prided himself on his orthodoxy.

When a few obscure persons, about 1520, began to whisper Luther’s ideas in England,

Henry himself wrote a Defense of the Seven Sacraments in refutation, for which a grateful pope conferred upon him the title “Defender of the Faith.”

But the king had no male heir. Recalling the violent anarchy from which

the Tudor dynasty had extricated England, and determined as a New Mon-

arch to build up a durable monarchy, he decided that he must remarry in order to have a

son. He therefore requested the pope, Clement VII, to annul his existing marriage to Cath-

erine of Aragon. Popes in the past had obliged monarchs in similar situations. The pope

now, however, was embarrassed by the fact that Catherine, who objected, was the aunt of

the Habsburg emperor, Charles V, whom the pope was in no position to offend. Henry, not

a patient man, pushed matters forward. He appointed a new archbishop of Canterbury,

repudiated the Roman connection, secured the annulment of his earlier marriage, and mar-

ried the youthful Anne Boleyn. The fact that only three years later he put to death the

unfortunate Anne, and thereafter in quick succession married four more wives, for a total

of six, threw considerable doubt on the original character of his motives.

Henry acted through Parliament, believing, as he said, that a king was never stronger

than when united with representatives of his kingdom. In 1534 Parliament passed the Act of

Supremacy, which declared the English king to be the “Protector and Only Supreme Head of

the Church and Clergy of England.” All subjects were required, if asked, to

take the oath of supremacy acknowledging the religious headship of Henry

and rejecting that of the pope. For refusing this oath Sir Thomas More, a

statesman and humanist best known as the author of Utopia, was executed for treason. The Roman Catholic Church, in the twentieth century, would pro-

nounce More to be a saint, but Henry won English support for most of his policies. He closed

all the monasteries in England, seized the extensive monastic lands, and passed them out to

numerous followers. He thus strengthened and reconstituted a landed aristocracy that had

been seriously weakened in the Wars of the Roses. This new landed gentry remained fi rm

supporters of the house of Tudor and the English national church, whatever its doctrines.

It was Henry’s intent not to change the doctrines at all. He simply wished to be the

supreme head of an English Catholic church. On the one hand, in 1536, he forcibly sup-

pressed a predominantly Catholic rebellion, and, on the other, in 1539, through the Six

Articles, required everybody to believe in transubstantiation, the celibacy of the clergy, the

need of confession, and a few other aspects of Catholic faith and practice. But it proved

impossible to maintain this position, for a great many people in England began to favor

one or another of the ideas of Continental Reformers, and a small minority were willing to

accept the entire Protestant position.

For three decades the government veered about. Henry died in 1547 and was suc-

ceeded by his 10-year-old son, Edward VI, the child of his third wife, Jane Seymour.

Henry VIII

The Act of

Supremacy

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89

The Protestant party now came to the fore. But Edward died in 1553 and was succeeded by

his much older half-sister, Mary, the daughter of Catherine of Aragon and a devout Roman

Catholic whose whole life had been embittered by the English break with Rome. Mary tried

to re-Catholicize England, but she actually made Catholicism more unpopular among the

English people. In 1554 she married Philip of Spain, who became king of England, though

STATE RELIGIONS IN EUROPE ABOUT 1560 This map shows the legally authorized, established churches about 1560, but it does not show the precise distributions of religious communities. Many Catholics lived north of the heavy line, and many Protestants south of it. Most widely dispersed were the Calvinists and the more radi- cal Protestants or Anabaptists. In Germany, under the Holy Roman Empire, each principality and free city chose its own religion; hence, the Germans were the only large European popula- tion to emerge from the Reformation almost evenly divided between Catholics and Protestants.

Lutheran

Anglican

Calvinist

Roman Catholics

A,C, and RC designate Anabaptists, Calvinists, and Roman Catholics in countries where theirs was not the dominant religion.

Border between Protestant State Churches and Roman Catholic Church Approximate Eastern Border of Western Christianity

0 100 200 miles

C

C

C

C C

C C

C C

C C

C

C

C C

CC

C

C

C

C

C

C

C

C

C

C

C

A A

A

A

A

A

A

A A

A A

A

R C

R C

R C

R C

NORWAY

DENMARKIRELAND

S W E D E N

SCOTLAND

ENGLAND

FRANCE

SPAIN

NETHER- LANDS

POLAND

HUNGARY AUSTRIA

ITALY

BOHEMIA BAVARIA

SAXONY

PRUSSIA

TRANSYLVANIA

MORAVIA WÜRTTEMBERG

BRANDENBURG

G E

R M

A N

Y

Rome

Trent

Geneva

Vienna

Frankfurt

WittenbergCanterbury

9. The Protestant Reformation

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Chapter 2 The Upheaval in Western Christendom, 1300–156090

Queen Elizabeth I wanted her portraits to convey her power and royal grandeur. This paint- ing, probably from the 1580s, uses her clothing and jewels to show her wealth and also to affi rm her political stature. (The Bridgeman Art Library/Getty

Images)

only in name. The English did not like Philip, nor the Spanish, nor the intense Spanish

Catholicism that Philip represented. Under Mary, moreover, some 300 persons were burned

at the stake, as heretics, in public mass executions. It was the fi rst (and last) time that such

a thing had happened in England, and it set up a wave of horror. In any event, Mary did not

live long. She was succeeded in 1558 by Henry’s younger daughter, Elizabeth, the child of

Anne Boleyn. Whatever Elizabeth’s real views in religion might be (she concealed them

successfully and was rumored to have none), she could not be a Roman Catholic. For Cath-

olics she was illegitimate and so unable to be queen.

Under Elizabeth the English became Protestant, gradually and in their own way. The

Church of England took on a form of its own. Organizationally, it resembled a Lutheran

church. It was a state church, for its existence and doctrines were deter-

mined by the monarch acting through Parliament. All English subjects were

obliged to belong to it, and laws were passed against “recusants,” a term

used to cover both the Roman Catholics and the more advanced Calvinists

who refused to acknowledge it. With the exception of monasteries and certain other church

foundations, the Church of England retained the physical possessions, buildings, and inter-

nal organization of the medieval church—the bishops and the archbishops, who continued

to sit in the House of Lords, the episcopal courts with their jurisdiction over marriage and

wills, the tithes or church taxes paid by all landowners, the parish structure, the universities

of Oxford and Cambridge.

In religious practice, the Church of England was defi nitely Protestant: English replaced

Latin as the language of the liturgy, there was no cult of the saints, and the clergy married,

though Elizabeth confessed to some embarrassment at the thought of an archbishop having

The Church of

England

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91

a wife. In doctrine, it was Elizabeth’s policy to make the dogmas broad and ambiguous, so

that persons of all shades of belief could be more readily accommodated. The Thirty-nine

Articles (1563), composed by a committee of bishops, defi ned the Protestant creed of the

Anglican church. All but one of the Anglican bishops had been newly appointed by Elizabeth

at her accession; many had lived in exile among Continental Protestants in the reign of

Mary Tudor; and except on the matter of church government through bishops (known as

episcopacy) a strong Calvinist impress was set upon Anglican belief in the time of Elizabeth.

The same ecclesiastical settlement was prescribed for Ireland, where English or rather

Anglo-Norman conquerors had settled since the twelfth century, shortly after the Norman

conquest of England. A replica of the Church of England was now established, called the

Church of Ireland, which took over the properties and position of the Roman church. The

native Irish, however, remained almost solidly Roman Catholic. As in Hungary or Bohemia

people who resented the Habsburgs were likely to turn Protestant rather than share in the

ruler’s religion, so in Ireland the fact that the ruling English were Protestant only confi rmed

the Irish in their attachment to the Roman church. The Catholic priests, deprived of status,

income, and church buildings, and often in hiding, became national leaders of a discon-

tented people.

The Consolidation of Protestantism by 1560

Neither in England, nor in Germany, nor in international Calvinism were the religious

issues regarded as settled in 1560. Nor had the Roman church accepted the new situation.

But by 1560 the chief Protestant doctrines had been affi rmed, and geographically Protes-

tantism had made many conquests. The institutional unity of Latin Christendom had been

broken. A world of separate churches, states, and nations was taking its place.

Protestants differed with one another, yet there was much that all had in common. All

rejected the papal authority. None participated in any effective international organization;

the ascendancy of Geneva was spiritual only and proved to be temporary. All Protestants

rejected the special, sacerdotal, or supernatural character of the priesthood;

indeed, the movement was perhaps most fundamentally a revolt against the

medieval position of the clergy. Protestants generally called their clergy

ministers, not priests. All Protestant clergy could marry. There were no

Protestant monks, nuns, or friars. All Protestant churches replaced Latin with the vernacu-

lar in religious services—English, French, German, Czech, as the case might be. All Prot-

estants reduced the number of sacraments, usually to two or three; such sacraments as

they retained they regarded more as symbols than as actual carriers of divine grace; all

believed, in one way or another, in justifi cation by faith. All denied transubstantiation,

or the miracle of the Mass. All gave up the obligatory confessional, and with it priestly

absolution. All gave up the idea of purgatory as a kind of temporal zone between heaven

and hell and hence abandoned the practice of saying prayers and Masses for the dead.

It need hardly be added that nothing like indulgences remained. All gave up the cult of

the saints and of the Virgin Mary, whose intercession in heaven was no longer expected.

All declared that the one true source of Christian belief was the Holy Scripture. And while

all established Protestant churches in the sixteenth century insisted on conformity to their

own doctrines, allowing no individual freedom, Protestants never fl atly repudiated the

right of private judgment in matters of conscience.

It has sometimes been maintained that one of the motivations for the spread of Protes-

tantism was economic—that a new acquisitive, dynamic, capitalistic impulse shook off the

What Protestants

held in common

9. The Protestant Reformation

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Chapter 2 The Upheaval in Western Christendom, 1300–156092

restrictions imposed by medieval religion. The fact that Protestant England and Holland

soon underwent a rapid capitalistic development gives added credibility to this idea. The

alacrity with which Protestant governments confi scated church lands shows a keen material

interest; but in truth, both before and after the Reformation, governments confi scated church

properties without breaking with the Roman church. That profound economic changes were

occurring at the time will become apparent in Chapter 3. Yet it seems that economic

conditions were far less decisive than religious convictions and political circumstances.

Calvinism won followers not only in cities but also in agrarian countries such as Scotland,

Poland, and Hungary. Lutheranism spread more successfully in the less economically

active regions of north Germany than in the busy south. The English were for years no more

inclined to Protestantism than the French, and in France, while many lords and peasants

turned Protestant, Paris and many other towns remained as steadfastly Catholic. It is possi-

ble that Protestantism, by casting a glow of religious righteousness over a person’s daily

business and material prosperity, later contributed to the economic success of Protestant

peoples and to new cultural assumptions about the moral failings of poor people, but it does

not seem that a Protestant work ethic or other economic factors were of any distinctive

importance in shaping the fi rst stages of Protestantism.

The new religious movements had a more immediate infl uence on attitudes about

marriage and the family. In contrast to medieval Catholicism, which had praised sexual

abstinence and celibacy as key traits of the most exalted religious persons,

Protestantism strongly promoted marriage as the ideal social institution

for clergy and lay people alike. Parenthood became honorable for even the

most pious Protestant leaders. Although women sometimes wrote hymns

Protestants and

family life

The ideal Protestant household is represented by an unknown artist in this sixteenth-century Dutch painting of the family of a successful merchant. There are clear divisions between the men, women, and children, but everyone expresses the sobriety, wealth, and social appearance of a prosperous Calvinist community. (Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam)

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9310. Catholicism Reformed and Reorganized

or preached in the more radical Protestant churches, the model Protestant woman was the

conscientious mother in a devout, religious household. The opportunities, even if limited,

that some women had found in medieval convents and religious communities disappeared

in Protestant societies, which may explain why nuns in Protestant territories were often

among the last persons to accept the new religious ideas.

Apart from the new emphasis on marriage, however, Protestants did little to change the

role of women in Christian churches or in the wider social order. The pastors in Protestant

communities were all men, and though more women may have become literate in order to

read the Bible, they became less visible in Protestant rituals as the long venerated female

saints vanished from prayers, religious writings, and charitable institutions. Meanwhile,

women in the convents of Catholic countries were more strictly cloistered and controlled

as Catholicism developed its own powerful movements for reform and reorganization.

10. CATHOLICISM REFORMED AND REORGANIZED

The Catholic movement corresponding to the rise of Protestantism is known as the Catholic

Reformation or the Counter Reformation. Catholics have usually preferred the former term

and Protestants have preferred the latter, but both are applicable. On the one hand the

Catholic church underwent a genuine reform, which might have worked itself out in one

way or another even if the stimulus of revolutionary Protestantism had been absent. On the

other hand the character of the reform, the measures adopted, and the new sense of urgency

became an explicit response to the Protestant challenge; and certainly, also, there was a

good deal of purely “counter” activity aimed at the elimination of Protestantism as such.

The demand for reform was as old as the abuses against which it was directed. Charac-

teristically, it had expressed itself in the demand for a general or ecumenical church council.

The conciliar movement, defeated by the popes about 1450, showed signs

of revival after 1500. The Lutheran upheaval thus provoked new calls

for a general council of the church, and we have seen how Charles V, in

the interests of German unity, sought to persuade the pope to assemble an

adequately empowered council, which might remove some of the abuses in the church

and take away the grounds upon which many Germans were turning to Lutheranism. But

meanwhile the king of France found reason to favor the pope and to oppose the emperor.

The French king, Francis I (1515–1547), could support the pope because he had obtained

from the papacy what he wanted, namely, control over the Gallican church, as acquired in

the Concordat of Bologna of 1516. And he had reason to oppose Charles V, because the

Habsburgs ruled not only in Germany but also in the Netherlands, Spain, and much of Italy,

thus encircling France and threatening Europe with what contemporaries called “universal

monarchy.” Francis I therefore actively encouraged the Protestants of Germany, as a means

of maintaining dissension there, and used his infl uence at Rome against the calling of a

council by which the troubles of the Catholic world might be relieved.

Gradually there arose a party of reforming cardinals who concluded that the need for

reform was so urgent that all dangers of a council must be risked. Pope Paul III summoned

a council to meet in 1537, but the wars between France and the empire forced its abandon-

ment. Finally, in 1545, a council assembled and began deliberations. It met at Trent, on

the Alpine borders of Germany and Italy. The Council of Trent, which shaped the destiny

of modern Catholicism, sat at irregular intervals for almost 20 years. It was not until the

Second Vatican Council in the 1960s that some of the main decisions made at Trent were

substantially modifi ed.

The call for reform

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Chapter 2 The Upheaval in Western Christendom, 1300–156094

The Council of Trent

The council was beset by pressing political diffi culties, which seemed to show that under

troubled conditions an international council was no longer a suitable means of regulating

Catholic affairs. Signifi cantly, it was not well attended. Whereas earlier councils of the

church had assembled as many as 500 prelates, the attendance at Trent was never nearly so

great; it sometimes fell as low as 20 or 30, and the important decree on “justifi cation,” the

prime issue raised by Luther, and one on which some good Catholics had until then

believed a compromise to be possible, was passed at a session where only 60 prelates were

present. Even with the small attendance, the old conciliar issue was raised. A party of bish-

ops believed that the bishops of the Catholic church, when assembled in council from all

parts of the Catholic world, collectively constituted an authority superior to that of the

pope. To stave off this “episcopal” movement was one of the chief duties of the cardinal

legates deputed by the pope to preside over the sessions.

The popes managed successfully to resist the idea of limiting the papal power. In the

end they triumphed, through a fi nal ruling voted by the council, that no act of the council

should be valid unless accepted by the Holy See. It is possible that had the conciliar theory

won out, the Catholic church might have become as disunited in modern

times as the Protestant. It was clear, at Trent, that the various bishops tended

to see matters in a national way, in the light of their own problems at home,

and to be frequently under strong infl uence from their respective secular

monarchs. In any case, the papal party prevailed, which is to say that the

centralizing element, not the national, triumphed. The Council of Trent thus preserved the

papacy as a unifying center for the Catholic church and helped prevent the very real threat

of its dissolution into state churches. Even so, the council’s success was not immediate, for

in every important country the secular rulers at fi rst accepted only what they chose of its

work, and only gradually did its infl uence prevail.

Questions of national politics and of church politics apart, the Council of Trent

addressed itself to two kinds of labors—to a statement of Catholic doctrine and to a reform

of abuses in the church. When the council began to meet in 1545, the Prot-

estant movement had already gone so far that any reconciliation was prob-

ably impossible: Protestants, especially Calvinists, simply did not wish to

belong to the church of Rome under any conditions. In any case, the Council

of Trent made no concessions.

It declared that justifi cation or salvation by God’s grace came to humans through their

works and faith combined. It enumerated and defi ned the seven sacraments, which were

held to be vehicles of grace independent of the spiritual state of those who received them.

The priesthood was declared to be a special estate set apart from the laity by the sacra-

ment of holy orders. The procedures of the confessional and of absolution were clarifi ed.

Transubstantiation was reaffi rmed. As sources of Catholic faith, the council put Scripture

and tradition on an equal footing. It thus rejected the Protestant claim to fi nd true faith in

the Bible alone and reasserted the validity of church development since New Testament

times. The Vulgate, a translation of the Bible into Latin by St. Jerome in the fourth cen-

tury, was declared to be the only version on which authoritative teaching could be based.

The right of individuals to believe that their own interpretation of Scripture was more true

than that of church authorities (private judgment) was denied. Latin, as against the national

languages, was prescribed as the language of religious worship—a requirement that would

continue to shape Catholic liturgy until the Second Vatican Council in the 1960s. Celibacy

of the clergy was maintained, and monasticism was upheld. The existence of purgatory

Preserving papal

authority

The Council of Trent:

defi ning Catholic

doctrine

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95

was reaffi rmed. The theory and correct practice of indulgences were restated. The venera-

tion of saints, the cult of the Virgin, and the use of images, relics, and pilgrimages were

approved as spiritually useful and pious actions.

It was easier for a council to defi ne doctrines than to reform abuses, since the latter

consisted in the rooted habits of people’s lives. The Council of Trent decreed, however,

a drastic reform of the monastic orders. It acted against the abuse of indulgences while

upholding the principle. It ruled that bishops should reside habitually in their dioceses,

attend more carefully to their proper duties, and exercise more administrative control over

clergy in their own dioceses. The abuse by which one man had held numerous church

offi ces at the same time (pluralism) was checked, and steps were taken to assure that

church offi cials should be competent. To provide an educated clergy, the council ordered

that a seminary should be set up in each diocese for the training of priests.

The New Catholicism

As laws in general have little force unless sustained by shared opinions, so the reform

decrees of the Council of Trent would have remained ineffectual had not a renewed sense

of religious seriousness been growing at the same time. Herein lay the inner force of the

Catholic Reform. In Italy, as the Renaissance became more undeniably

pagan, and as the sack of Rome in 1527 showed that even many Catholics

had lost respect for the Roman clergy, the voices of moralists began to be

heeded. The line of Renaissance popes was succeeded by a line of reform-

ing popes, of whom the fi rst was Paul III (1534–1549). The reforming

popes insisted on the primacy of the papal offi ce, but they regarded this offi ce, unlike their

predecessors, as a moral and religious force. In many dioceses the bishops began on their

own initiative to be stricter. The new Catholic religious sense, more than the Protestant,

centered in a reverence for the sacraments and a mystical awe for the church itself as a

divine institution. Both men and women founded many new religious orders, of which the

Jesuits became the most famous. Others were the Oratorians for men and the Ursulines for

women. The new orders dedicated themselves to a variety of educational and philanthropic

activities. Missionary fervor for a long time was more characteristic of Catholics than of

Protestants. It reached into Asia and the Americas, and in Europe expressed itself as an

intense desire for the reconversion of Protestants. It showed itself, too, in missions among

the poor, as in the work of St. Vincent de Paul among the human wreckage of Paris, for

which the established Protestant churches failed to produce anything comparable. In

America, as colonies developed in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, the Protestant

clergy tended to take the layman’s view of the Indians, while Catholic clergy labored to

convert and protect them; and the Catholic church generally worked to mitigate the brutal

treatment of enslaved Africans, to which the pastors in English and Dutch colonies, per-

haps because they were more dependent upon the laity, remained largely indifferent.

We have seen how in Spain, where the Renaissance had never taken much hold, the

very life of the country was connected to a kind of ongoing Christian crusade. It was in Spain

that much of the new Catholic feeling fi rst developed; and it was Spain that now generated

a new surge of Catholic missionary activity. Spanish writers provided the

most infl uential sixteenth-century accounts of Catholic mysticism, including

Teresa of Avila’s famous descriptions of her encounters with Christ. Spain

was also the home country of St. Ignatius Loyola (1491–1556). A soldier

in youth, he too, like Luther and Calvin, had a religious “experience” or “conversion,”

which occurred in 1521, before he had heard of Luther and while Calvin was still a boy.

Catholic religious

renewal

The Jesuits

10. Catholicism Reformed and Reorganized

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Chapter 2 The Upheaval in Western Christendom, 1300–156096

Loyola resolved to become a soldier of the church, a militant crusader for the pope and the

Holy See. On this principle he established the Society of Jesus, commonly known as the

Jesuits. Authorized by Pope Paul III in 1540, the Jesuits constituted a monastic order of

a new type, less attached to the cloister, more directed toward active participation in the

affairs of the world. Only men of proven strength of character and intellectual force were

admitted. Each Jesuit had to undergo an arduous mystical training, set forth by Loyola in his

Spiritual Exercises. The order was ruled by an iron discipline, which required each member to see in his immediate superior the infallibility of the Holy Church. As Loyola explained in

his Spiritual Exercises, if the church teaches to see something as black even when the eye sees it as white the mind must believe it to be black.

For 200 years the Jesuits were the most famous schoolmasters of Catholic Europe,

eventually conducting some 500 schools for boys of the upper and middle classes. These

schools taught the Catholic faith, but they also taught the principles of gentlemanly deport-

ment (their teaching of dancing and dramatics became a scandal to more puritanical Catho-

lics), and they carried over the Renaissance and humanist idea of the Latin classics as the

main substance of adolescent education. The Jesuits made a specialty of work among the

ruling classes. They became confessors to kings and hence involved in political intrigue.

In an age when Protestants subordinated an organized church either to the state or to an

St. Ignatius Loyola’s religious inspiration is portrayed in this painting by Peter Paul Rubens, whose work often represented the religious and political leaders of Catholic countries. (Bridgeman-Giraudon/Art Resource, NY)

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97

individual conscience, and when even Catholics frequently thought of the church within

a national framework, the Jesuits seemed almost to worship the church itself as a divine

institution that must remain internationally organized and governed by the Roman pontiff.

All full-fl edged Jesuits took a special vow of obedience to the pope. Jesuits in the later ses-

sions of the Council of Trent fought obstinately, and successfully, to uphold the position of

Rome against that of the national bishops.

By 1560 the Catholic church, renewed by a deepening of its religious life and by an

uncompromising restatement of its dogmas and discipline, had devised also the practical

machinery for a counteroffensive against Protestantism. The Jesuits acted as an interna-

tional missionary force. They recruited members from all countries, including those in

which the governments had turned Protestant. English Catholics, for example, trained as

Jesuits on the Continent, returned to England to attempt to overthrow the heretic usurper,

Elizabeth, seeing in the universal church a higher cause than national independence in

religion. Jesuits poured also into the most hotly disputed regions where the religious

issue still swayed in the balance—France, Germany, Bohemia, Poland, Hungary. As after

every great revolution, many people moved from an initial burst of Protestantism toward

a revived interest in the old religious order, especially as the more crying evils within the

Catholic church were corrected. The Jesuits reconverted many who thus hesitated.

For the more recalcitrant other machinery was provided. All countries censored books;

Protestant authorities labored to keep “papist” works from the eyes of the faithful, and

Catholic authorities took the same pains to suppress all knowledge of “heretics.” All

bishops, Anglican, Lutheran, and Catholic, regulated reading matter within their dioceses.

In the Catholic world, with the trend toward centralization under the pope, a special impor-

tance attached to the list published by the bishop of Rome, the papal Index of Prohibited

Books. Only with special permission, granted to reliable persons for special study, could

Catholics read books listed on the Index, which was not abandoned until the 1960s.

All countries, Protestant and Catholic, also set up judicial and police machinery to

enforce conformity to the accepted church. In England, for example, Elizabeth established

the High Commission to bring “recusants” into the Church of England. All bishops, Prot-

estant and Catholic, likewise possessed machinery of enforcement in their

episcopal courts. But no court made itself so dreaded as the Inquisition.

In reality two distinct organizations went under this name, the word itself

being simply an old term of the Roman law, signifying a court of inquest

or inquiry. One was the Spanish Inquisition, established originally, about

1480, to ferret out Jewish and Muslim survivals in Spain. It was then introduced into all

countries ruled by the Spanish crown and employed against Protestantism, particularly in

the Spanish Netherlands, which was an important center of Calvinism. The other was the

Roman or papal Inquisition, established at Rome in 1542 under a permanent committee of

cardinals called the Holy Offi ce; it was in a sense a revival of the famous medieval tribu-

nal established in the thirteenth century for the detection and repression of heresy. Both

the Spanish and the Roman Inquisitions employed torture, for heresy was regarded as the

supreme crime, and all persons charged with crime could be tortured, in civil as well as

ecclesiastical courts, under the existing laws. In the use of torture, as in the imposition of

the harshest sentence, burning alive, the Roman Inquisition was less severe than the Span-

ish. The Roman Inquisition in principle offered a court to protect purity of faith in all parts

of the Catholic world. But the national resistance of Catholic countries proved too strong;

few Catholics wished the agents of Rome inquiring locally into their opinions; and the

Roman Inquisition never functioned for any length of time outside of Italy.

Enforcing religious

conformity

10. Catholicism Reformed and Reorganized

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Chapter 2 The Upheaval in Western Christendom, 1300–156098

In the “machinery” of enforcing religious belief, however, no engine was to be so

powerful as the apparatus of state. Where Protestants won control of government, people

became Protestant. Where Catholics retained control of governments, Protestants became

in time small minorities. And it was in the clash of governments, which is to say in war,

for about a century after 1560, that the fate of European religion was worked out. In 1560

the strongest powers of Europe—Spain, France, Austria—were all offi cially Catholic. The

Protestant states were all small or at most middle-sized. The Lutheran states of Germany,

like all German states, were individually of little weight. The Scandinavian monarchies

were far away. England, the most considerable of Protestant kingdoms, was a country of

only 4 million people, with an independent and hostile Scotland to the north, and with no

sign of colonial empire yet in existence. In the precedence of monarchs, as arranged in the

earlier part of the century, the king of England ranked just below the king of Portugal, and

next above the king of Sicily. Clearly, had a great combined Catholic crusade ever devel-

oped, Protestantism could have been wiped out. Yet such a crusade, partially launched on

various fronts by the king of Spain, never succeeded. Religious divisions became a per-

manent reality in European culture, contributing eventually, like Renaissance humanism

and the new European monarchies, to a gradual secularization of modern societies. And in

later, more secular times, the idea and practice of religious tolerance would develop as a

stabilizing solution for the intractable confl icts that long threatened the lives of individual

believers as well as the survival of entire religious communities.

For suggested further readings and useful Web sites, interactive exercises, glossary, chronologies,

and more, go to the Online Learning Center at www.mhhe.com/palmerhistory11e .

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99

C h a p t e r 3 THE ATLANTIC WORLD, COMMERCE, AND WARS OF RELIGION, 1560–1648

European history in the period following 1560 is often described as the age of the Wars of Religion,

which may be said to have ended with the Peace of

Westphalia in 1648. France, England, the Nether-

lands, and the Holy Roman Empire fell into internal

and international struggles in which religion was

often the most burning issue, but in which political,

constitutional, economic, and social questions were

also involved. This time of long, drawn-out confl icts

between Catholics and Protestants, however, was

also a time of important economic transitions. From

the beginning of the sixteenth century European

society was transformed by contacts with a newly

discovered overseas world, which contributed deci-

sively to the expansion of global trade routes, the

emergence of a new commercial capitalism, and the

formation of new social classes.

This was the era in which the modern global

economic system began to develop and in which

new exchanges with people in Asia, Africa, and the Americas began to reshape social,

economic, and political power within Europe itself. The effects of these profound changes,

however, were obscured and delayed by the politico-religious struggles. In the present

chapter we must fi rst examine the geographical discoveries, then survey the broad new

economic and social developments under way, and fi nally trace the impact of the religious

wars on various parts of Europe. The wars, as we shall see, left Spain and Germany very

much weakened, and opened the way for the English, Dutch, and French to profi t from the

global economic changes and to play leading roles in the transnational confl icts of early

modern times.

11. The Opening of

the Atlantic

12. The Commercial

Revolution

13. Changing Social Structures

14. The Wars of Catholic

Spain: The Netherlands

and England

15. The Disintegration and

Reconstruction of France

16. The Thirty Years’ War,

1618–1648:

The Disintegration

of Germany

Chapter emblem: Detail from Jean Bourdichon (1457–1521), The Four Estates of Society: Work, which shows a carpenter working with the tools of his craft. (Bridgeman-Giraudon/Art Resource, NY)

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Chapter 3 The Atlantic World, Commerce, and Wars of Religion, 1560–1648100

11. THE OPENING OF THE ATLANTIC

Always until about 1500 the Atlantic Ocean had been a barrier, an end. About 1500 it

became a bridge and a starting place for new cross-cultural communications and confl icts.

The consequences were enormous for all concerned. In general, they were favorable for

Europeans but devastating for peoples elsewhere—in America through massive depopula-

tion by diseases such as smallpox brought from Europe, in Africa through the transatlantic

slave trade, and ultimately in places as far away as Australia through the destruction of

long-existing cultures or languages. Older, celebratory accounts of Europe’s “overseas

discoveries” have therefore been widely challenged in recent decades as historians have

revised the story of European expansion from the perspective of Native Americans or

African Americans. Viewed from these perspectives, Columbus’s fi rst voyage to America

in 1492 launched a history of terrible losses rather than an era of heroic European explora-

tions and conquests.

But few would deny that the new, complex association of the Old and New Worlds,

as Europeans called them, became a momentous event in human history. The endless

migration of people, the worldwide movement of trade, and the disorient-

ing experiences of cross-cultural encounters marked the true beginning of

modern global history. Europeans transformed or even destroyed numer-

ous other cultures, but their own culture was also transformed through

steadily expanding contacts with other peoples, social traditions, and reli-

gions in every part of the world. A new wealthy commercial class grew up in cities along

Europe’s Atlantic coast. Naval power became decisive. European populations grew with

the adoption of the American potato, and people in Europe became dependent on imported

commodities such as sugar and tobacco. European writers took increasing pride in their

understanding of the world and in what they regarded as the superiority of their own cul-

tural or religious traditions. There was also much speculation on the diversity of the human

races and cultures, which sometimes led to a new kind of race consciousness on the part of

Europeans and sometimes to a cultural relativism in which European customs were seen

as only one variant of human behavior as a whole. Meanwhile, people in the Americas

and Africa struggled to defend their own evolving cultures and institutions as European

soldiers, traders, and missionaries entered the various civilizations of an increasingly inter-

connected transatlantic economic system.

The Portuguese in the East

Europeans had skirted their Atlantic coast since prehistoric times. Vikings had settled in

Iceland in the ninth century and had even reached North America soon thereafter. In 1317

Venetians had established the Flanders galleys, commercial fl otillas that regularly made

the passage between the Adriatic and North seas. In the fi fteenth century, improvements

in shipbuilding, the rigging of sails, and the adoption of the mariner’s compass made it

feasible to sail on the open ocean out of sight of land. When the Portuguese about 1450

settled in the Azores Islands, in the mid-Atlantic, they found steady westerly winds to

assure a safe return to Europe. It seemed that the ocean might even lead to Asia.

For centuries Asia had been a source for Europe of many highly valued commodities,

partly manufactures in which Europe could not compete, such as silk and cotton fabrics,

rugs, jewelry, porcelains, and fi ne steel, and partly raw or semimanufactured drugs and

foodstuffs, such as sugar and, above all, spices. Europeans had never themselves gone to the

Cultural

transformation and

destruction

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10111. The Opening of the Atlantic

sources of supply of Eastern goods. Somewhere, east of Suez, barely known to Europeans,

was another world of other merchants who moved the wares of China, India, and the East

Indies Spice Islands by caravan over land and by boat through the Red Sea or Persian Gulf

to the markets of the eastern Mediterranean. Traders of the two worlds met and did business

at such thriving centers as Alexandria or Beirut or Constantinople.

In 1498 the Portuguese navigator Vasco da Gama, having rounded Africa in the wake

of other intrepid explorers, found himself in the midst of the unknown world of Arab

commerce. He landed on the Malabar Coast (the southwest coast of India), where he

found a busy commercial population of heterogeneous religious background. These

people knew at least as much about Europe as Europeans did about India (one Jew was

able to act as da Gama’s interpreter), and they realized that the coming of the Portuguese

would disturb their established channels of commerce. Da Gama, playing upon local

rivalries, was able to load his ships with the coveted wares, but on his second voyage, in

1502, he came better prepared, bringing a fi ghting fl eet of no less than 21 vessels. A fero-

cious war broke out between the Portuguese and Arab merchants, the latter supported in

one way or another by the Egyptians, the Turks, and even the distant Venetians, all of

EUROPEAN DISCOVERIES, 1450–1600 Discovery means the bringing of newly found countries within the habitual knowledge or per- manent commercial activity of the society from which the discoverer comes. Although sailors and travelers from Asia had long made voyages to distant places and engaged in trade across the Indian Ocean or South Pacifi c, it was the Europeans who discovered much of the Atlantic world in the sense indicated here. They did so in the period between 1450 and 1600, using maritime skills and geographical knowledge developed in the Mediterranean and off the Atlantic coast. Dates on the map show the years of fi rst signifi cant European arrival at the points indicated.

I N D I A N O C E A N P A C I F I C O C E A N

PA C I F I C O C E A N A T L A N T I C

O C E A N

A R C T I C O C E A N

Cabral 1500

1418 Columbu

s 1492

da Ga

ma 14

98

Dias 1488

da G am

a 1498

1472

1485

1485

Re tu

rn of

M ag

ell an

's Ex

pe dit

ion

1527

Magellan 1521

1595

1511

1517

1520 St. Francis Xavier

1549

Barentz 1596

1600

1598

1588

Chancellor 1553

1515

15061446

Davis 1585

1575

Cabot 1497Cartier

1533

Verrazano 1523

Vespucci 1499

1515

1520

1560 1535

Pizarro 1528

Balboa 1513

Magellan 1521

Cortés 1519

DeSoto 1539

Coronado 1540

1542

Drake 1578

1505

M a g

e ll a n

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Chapter 3 The Atlantic World, Commerce, and Wars of Religion, 1560–1648102

whom had an interest in maintaining the old routes of trade. For the Portuguese, trained

like the Spaniards in long wars against the Moors at home, no atrocities were too horrible

to commit against the “infi dels” whom they found as competitors at the end of their long

commercial quest. Cities were devastated along the Malabar Coast, ships were burned at

their docks, prisoners were butchered, and their dismembered hands, noses, and ears were

sent back as derisive trophies. One Brahmin, mutilated in this way, was left alive to bear

them to his people. Such, unfortunately, was India’s introduction to the highly assertive

“methods” of early modern Europe’s transoceanic trade.

In the following years the Portuguese built permanent fortifi ed stations at Goa on the

Malabar Coast, at Aden near the mouth of the Red Sea, at Hormuz near the mouth of the

Persian Gulf, and in East Africa. In 1509 they reached Malacca, near modern Singapore,

from which they passed northward into China itself and eastward to Amboina,

the heart of the Spice Islands, just west of New Guinea. Thus an empire was

created, the fi rst of Europe’s commercial-colonial empires, maintained by

superiority of fi rearms and sea power and by forceful economic interven-

tions that combined trade with war and plunder. The early European traders

were soon followed by bold Jesuits, including St. Francis Xavier, who, by 1550, had bap-

tized thousands of souls in India, Indonesia, and even Japan.

By the new sea route the European cost of Asian goods was much reduced, for the

old route had involved many transshipments, unloadings, and reloadings, movements by

sea and by land, through the hands of many merchants. In 1504 spices could be bought

in Lisbon for only a fi fth of the price demanded in Venice. The Venetians (who in their

desperation even talked of digging a Suez canal) were hopelessly undersold in western

European markets: their trade thereafter was confi ned to products of the Middle East.

As for the Portuguese, never was a commercial monopoly built so fast. The lower prices

added enormously to European demand and consumption. Beginning in 1504, only fi ve

years after da Gama’s fi rst return, an average of 12 ships a year left Lisbon for the expand-

ing Asian trade.

The Discovery of America

Meanwhile, the same quest for a route to the East had led to the somewhat disappointing

discovery of America. Like most such discoveries, this was no chance hit of an isolated

genius. Behaim’s globe, constructed in 1492, the very year of Columbus’s fi rst voyage,

suggested that China could be reached by crossing the Atlantic and thus supported the idea

of sailing westward to arrive in the East. Nevertheless, it was Christopher Columbus who

had the persistence and daring to undertake the unprecedented westward voyage. Before the

invention of suffi ciently accurate clocks (in the eighteenth century) mariners had no way

of determining longitude, that is, their east-west position, and learned geographers greatly

underestimated the probable distance from Europe westward to Asia. When Columbus

struck land, he naturally supposed it to be an outlying part of the Indies. The people were

soon called Indians, and the islands where Columbus landed, the West Indies.

Columbus had sailed with the backing of Queen Isabella of Castile, and the new lands

became part of the composite dominions of the crown of Spain. The Spaniards, hoping to

fi nd a sea route that would enable them to beat the Portuguese to the East (which da Gama

had not yet reached), received Columbus’s fi rst reports with enthusiasm. For his second

voyage they gave him 17 ships, fi lled with 1,500 workmen and artisans. Columbus him-

self, until his death in 1506, kept probing about in the Caribbean, baffl ed and frustrated,

Portuguese trading

empire

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103

still believing he had discovered a route to Asia and hoping to fi nd something that looked

like the fabulous East. Other Europeans were more willing to see the new lands as a previ-

ously unknown place in which they could pursue new wealth and power. Indeed, the lands

were soon given a new European name—America—after the Italian explorer Amerigo

Vespucci reported that neither the islands nor the mainland seemed to be connected with

Asia. Spanish churchmen began to view America as a new fi eld for crusading and conver-

sion. The Spanish government saw it as a source of gold and silver for the

royal exchequer. Footloose gentry of warlike habits, left idle by the end

of war with the Moors in Iberia, turned to America to make their fortunes.

The conquistadores fell upon the new lands. Hernando Cortés led a small Spanish army that conquered the Aztecs in Mexico between 1519 and 1521.

Taking advantage of divisions among peoples within Aztec territories, the conquistadores used massacres and sieges to complete a conquest that brought “New Spain” into a grow-

ing Spanish Empire. Francisco Pizarro’s later expedition into the Inca Empire in Peru also

resorted to brutal tactics of deception and murder to remove the Inca emperor, Atahualpa,

and thereby expand Spain’s imperial control across the Andes during the 1530s. The colo-

nizing Spanish forces quickly despoiled the native empires in both Mexico and Peru.

Mines for precious metals were opened almost immediately. The Indians were put to

Conquest begins in the

Americas

An Episode in the Conquest of America was painted by the Dutch artist Jan Mostaert about 1545. In this detail from an early European visualization of the New World, the American Indians are seen as naked, helpless, confused, and very different from Europeans. (The Art Archive at Art Resource, NY)

11. The Opening of the Atlantic

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Chapter 3 The Atlantic World, Commerce, and Wars of Religion, 1560–1648104

forced labor, in which many died. The rapid decline in the Indian population, the attempts

of the church to protect its Indian converts, and the restrictions set by royal authorities on

their exploitation soon led to the importation of African slaves. More than 120,000

enslaved Africans were brought to America by 1575, and another 500,000 arrived over the

next 50 years. This massive, forced migration of Africans continued for more than two

centuries via a far-reaching European-managed slave trade that would carry 12.5 million

enslaved Africans to the Americas by the middle of the nineteenth century. The great

majority would be transported to Portuguese-controlled Brazil and to the various West

Indian sugar islands, but many also went to the Spanish Empire and to the later British

Empire in North America. Indeed, the number of enslaved Africans reaching America,

including the two continents and the West Indies, was far greater than the number of

Europeans who settled there before 1800; and some enslaved persons were also taken from

Africa into Portugal, Spain, England, and other parts of Europe.

Meanwhile, explorers began to make their way along the vast

American continent that barred them from Asia. A Spanish expedition, led

by Ferdinand Magellan, found a southwestern passage in 1520, sailed from

the Atlantic into the Pacifi c, crossed the Pacifi c, reached the Philippine Islands, and fought

its way through hostile Portuguese across the Indian Ocean back to Spain. The globe was

thus circumnavigated for the fi rst time, and new ideas about the true size and intercon-

nection of the oceans were brought back to Europe. Geographical experts immediately

incorporated the new knowledge. Europeans still knew little about the vast, newly dis-

covered continents, however, and other explorers sailing for Spain, the Cabots sailing for

England, Jacques Cartier for France, began the long and fruitless search for a northwest

passage to the Pacifi c. An English expedition, looking for a northeast passage, discovered

the White Sea in 1553. English merchants immediately began to take the ocean route to

Russia. Archangel became an ocean port.

For a century it was only the Spanish and Portuguese who followed up the new ocean

routes to America and the East. The monarchs of these two peoples, in a treaty of 1494,

asserted that the globe should be divided between them by an imaginary north-and-south

line that ran from a point in the middle of the North Atlantic Ocean through the north

pole and across eastern Asia. Spain claimed all the Americas by this treaty, and Portugal,

all rights of trade in Africa, Asia, and the East Indies. But when the Portuguese explorer

Pedro Cabral discovered Brazil in 1500, it was found to be far enough east to lie within the

Portuguese area, and after Magellan landed on the Philippine Islands in 1521, they were

claimed to be in the Spanish zone.

In the populous, long-established civilizations of the East the Portuguese were never

more than a handful of outsiders who could not impose their language, their religion, or

their way of life. It was otherwise in the Americas, where previously unknown diseases

such as smallpox decimated the native populations, and where Spanish invaders set about

imposing European culture on the weakened and demoralized survivors.

The Spanish Empire in America

In South America, Mexico, and the Caribbean, after the fi rst ferocity of the conquista, the Spanish established their own civilization. In Protestant countries, and also in France,

as the years went on there arose an extremely unfavorable idea of the

Spanish regime in America, where, it was noted, the Inquisition was pres-

ently established and the native peoples were reduced to servitude by

Further explorations

Spanish colonial rule

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105

the conquerors. The Spanish themselves came to dismiss this grim picture as a false

legend concocted by their rivals. The true character of the Spanish Empire in America is

not easy to portray. The Spanish government (like the home governments of all colonial

empires) regarded its empire as existing primarily for the benefi t of the mother country.

The Indians were put into servitude, to work in mines or in agriculture. They also died

in large numbers from infections brought by Europeans to which Europeans over past

centuries had developed immunities but against which the native American peoples had

no such protection. The same was true farther north in what later became the United

States. Religious critics of Spanish brutality, including, most notably, Bartolomé de las

Casas, condemned the pervasive abuse of the native populations, and the Spanish govern-

ment made efforts to moderate the exploitation of Indian labor. It attempted to regulate

the encomienda, a labor and land system in which Indians were required to work for an

owner a certain number of days in the week, while retaining parcels of land on which to

work for themselves. How much the royal regulations were enforced on remote enco-

miendas is another question, to which answers vary. Black African slavery became some-

what less important in most of the Spanish American economy than it later became in the

Dutch, French, and English colonies or in Portuguese Brazil. But the white population

remained relatively small. Castilian Spaniards looked down on American-born whites,

called Creoles. Since fewer women than men emigrated from Spain, there arose a large

class of mestizos, of mixed white and Indian descent.

The mestizos, along with many Indians, adopted to a considerable degree the Spanish

language and the faith of the Spanish church. The Indians, while unfree, had usually lacked

freedom under their own tribal chiefs. The sufferings of Indians, however, took new forms.

They faced the harsh conditions of the Spanish labor system, but they were now spared

from the violence of recurring tribal wars; they also fell under the strict religious controls

of the Spanish Inquisition, but they were no longer threatened by traditional Aztec or Inca

rituals of human sacrifi ce. Meanwhile, new forms of education began to develop within the

Spanish Empire. The printing press was brought to Mexico in 1544. By the middle of the

sixteenth century Spanish America consisted of two great viceroyal ties, those of Mexico

and Peru, with 22 bishoprics, and with a university in each viceroyalty; the University of

Lima was established in 1551, that of Mexico in 1553. When Harvard College was founded

in New England (in 1636), there were fi ve universities on the European model in Spanish

America.

In 1545 a great discovery was made, the prodigiously rich silver depos-

its at Potosí in Peru. (It is now in Bolivia.) Almost simultaneously, better

methods of extracting silver from the ore by the use of mercury were devel-

oped. American production of precious metals shot up suddenly and portent-

ously. For years, after the midcentury, 500,000 pounds of silver and 10,000 pounds of gold

fl owed annually from America to Spain. The riches of Potosí fi nanced the European projects

of the king of Spain. Peruvian ores, Indian labor, and Spanish management combined to

make possible the militant, anti-Protestant phase of the Counter Reformation.

But the Spanish also found American natural resources that would become more valu-

able in Europe than all of the gold and silver in colonial mines, because the Indians intro-

duced Europeans to new plants such as beans, potatoes, maize, tomatoes, and squash. These

nutritious foods were taken back to Europe, where, in the long run, they became much more

useful than any precious metal in the daily lives and meals of everyone in Europe. American

food plants eventually transformed European agriculture, changed the cuisine in every

European country, and improved the diets of people in even the poorest social classes.

The Potosí silver

mines

11. The Opening of the Atlantic

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Chapter 3 The Atlantic World, Commerce, and Wars of Religion, 1560–1648106

Europeans negotiate with an African chief and his council on the Guinea coast, perhaps for the purchase of slaves who will be transported to America. The Europeans have guns while the Africans have only spears, but in contrast to early European images of American Indians the Africans are fully clothed and seated in a dignifi ed manner. (The New York Public Library/Art

Resource, NY)

Black slaves are stooped over in a diamond-processing operation in Brazil, while white overseers watch with whips. (The New York Public Library/Art

Resource, NY)

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107

Historical Interpretations and Debates

Europe and the Americas

Historians have long argued that the European encounter with the New World transformed Old World societies as well as cultures in the Americas. As these two infl uential historians explain in their accounts of cross-cultural exchanges and perceptions, the discovery of previ- ously unknown lands and peoples profoundly altered both the material lives and the intellectual perspectives of early modern Europeans. Note the contrasting themes of social and cultural history that Alfred Crosby Jr. and J. H. Elliott develop in their interpretations of how European contacts with American Indians changed the history of Europe.

Alfred W. Crosby Jr., The Columbian Exchange: Biological and Cultural Consequences of 1492 (1972, 2003) The [American] Indian produced some of the

most important of all food plants. He also gave

humanity such nonfoods as tobacco, rubber,

and certain cottons, but let us restrict ourselves

to . . . his most valuable food crops. . . .

American plants [enabled the European]

farmer to produce food from soils that, prior

to 1492, were rated as useless because of

their sandiness, altitude, aridity, and other

factors. . . .

The American crops of primary

importance in Europe have been beans,

maize, and, above all, potatoes. . . . String

beans and lima beans were among the chief

products of seventeenth-century Spain. . . .

The bean spread to almost all the latitudes

of Europe, but the impact of maize was . . .

restricted almost entirely to the southern half

of that continent. . . .

Maize has had an important infl uence

on population growth in southern Europe. . . .

[But] another factor . . . has been Europe’s

love affair with the common American

potato. . . . It was the Irish, of course, who

fi rst wholeheartedly adopted the potato. . . .

As the crop spread in Ireland, the population

grew, which made further spread of the tuber

almost compulsory, for no other plant could

feed so many Irishmen on such small plots

of land. One-and-a-half acres, planted with

potatoes, would provide enough food, with

the addition of a bit of milk, to keep a family

hearty for a year.

J. H. Elliott, The Old World and the New 1492–1650 (1970) The temptation was almost overpoweringly

strong [for Europeans] to see the newly-

discovered lands in terms of the enchanted

isles of medieval fantasy. . . . [And] the

Christian and the classical tradition were

likely to prove the obvious points of

departure for any evaluation of the New

World and its inhabitants. . . .

The reverence . . . for their Christian and

classical traditions had salutary consequences

for their approach to the New World, in that

it enabled them to set it into some kind of

perspective in relation to themselves. . . .

Christendom’s own sense of self-dissatisfaction

found expression in the longing for a return to a

better state of things. The return might be to the

lost Christian paradise, or to the Golden Age of

the ancients, or to some elusive combination of

both these imagined worlds. With the discovery

of the Indies . . . it was all too easy to transpose

the ideal world from a world remote in time to

a world remote in space. . . .

It was an idyllic picture, and the humanists

made the most of it, for it enabled them to

express their dissatisfaction with European

society, and to criticize it by implication.

America and Europe became antitheses—the

antitheses of innocence and corruption. . . .

But by treating the New World in this

way, the humanists were closing the door to

understanding an alien civilization. America

was not as they imagined it. . . . But the

dream was a European dream, which had

little to do with the American reality.

Sources: Alfred W. Crosby Jr., The Columbian Exchange: Biological and Cultural Consequences of 1492 (Westport, CT: Praeger, 2003), pp. 170, 176–78, 181–83; J. H. Elliott, The Old World and the New 1492–1650 (Cambridge and New York: Cambridge University Press, 1970, 1992), pp. 24–27.

11. The Opening of the Atlantic

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Chapter 3 The Atlantic World, Commerce, and Wars of Religion, 1560–1648108

Meanwhile, beginning in 1565, the Spanish also established a lucrative trade route

between their colonies in Mexico and the Philippines. Large ships called the “Manila

Galleons” carried vast cargoes of silver from Acapulco to Manila, where the silver was traded

for Chinese luxury goods—spices, porcelain, silks, and ivory—all of which were transported

back to Mexico and on to Europe. This valuable trade continued until the early nineteenth

century. It carried perhaps a third of all the silver extracted from Spain’s American colonies

off to Asia; and it helped to create the fi rst modern global network for commercial exchange,

in part because it brought Chinese consumers the only commodity that they wanted to buy

from Europeans during this era. Silver from New World mines therefore sustained the whole

Asian-American-European trading system and enabled Spain to control much of the bur-

geoning global market for Chinese products.

The opening of the Atlantic thus reoriented Europe. In an age of oceanic communica-

tions Europe became a center from which America, Africa, and Asia could all be reached.

In Europe itself, the Atlantic coast now enjoyed great advantages over the older Mediter-

ranean ports and the towns in central Europe. No sooner did the Portuguese begin to bring

spices from the East Indies than Antwerp began to fl ourish as the point of redistribution for

northern Europe. But for a century after the Spanish and Portuguese began to build their

empires, the northern peoples did not take to the oceans. French corsairs did indeed put out

from Bayonne or Saint-Malo, and Dutch prowlers and English “sea dogs” followed at the

close of the century, all bent upon plundering the Iberian treasure ships. Still the Spanish

and Portuguese kept their monopoly. No organized effort, backed by governments, came

from the north until about 1600. For it is by no means geography alone that determines

economic development; the English, Dutch, and French could not make use of the new

Atlantic opportunities until they had cleared up their domestic troubles and survived the

perils and hazards of the Wars of Religion.

12. THE COMMERCIAL REVOLUTION

In the great economic readjustment that was taking place in Europe, the

opening of ocean trade routes was important, but it was by no means the

only factor in shaping what historians call the early modern “Commercial

Revolution.” Two other key factors were the growth of population and a long, gradual rise

in prices, or a slow infl ation.

European population again grew rapidly, as in the High Middle Ages, reaching about

108 million in 1600, of which more than 20 million represented the growth during the

sixteenth century. The increase took place in all countries, though the distribution was quite

different from the population increases in more recent times. England in 1600 had less than

5 million inhabitants. France had four times as many, and the German states altogether almost

as many as France. Italy and Spain had fewer than France, and distant Russia, within its then

boundaries, may have had no more than 10 million people. Some cities grew substantially,

with London and Paris approaching 200,000; Antwerp, Lisbon, and Seville, thanks to the

ocean trade, jumped to 100,000 by 1600. But smaller towns remained much the same; Europe

as a whole was probably no more urbanized than in the later Middle Ages. Most of the popu-

lation growth represented an increasing density in the rural regions.

The steady rise in prices, which is to say the steady decline in value of

a given unit of money (such as a shilling), constituted a gradual infl ation.

It has been called a “price revolution,” but it was so slow as to be hardly

comparable to the kinds of infl ation known in some modern societies.

Population growth

The price revolution

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10912. The Commercial Revolution

One cause seems to have emerged from the growth of population itself, which set up an

increasing demand for food. This meant that new land was brought under cultivation, land

that was less fertile, more inaccessible or more diffi cult to work than the fi elds that had

been cultivated previously. With increasing costs of production, agricultural prices rose; in

England, for example, they about quadrupled during the sixteenth century. Prices were also

pushed upward by the increase in the volume of money. The royal habit of debasing the

currency brought a larger amount of money into circulation, since larger numbers of fl orins,

reals, or livres were obtained from the same amount of bullion. The fl ow of gold and silver from America also made money more plentiful, but the impact of Peruvian and Mexican

mines can easily be exaggerated. Even before the discovery of America, the development

of gold and silver mines had augmented the European money supply. Although the expan-

sion of both population and commerce checked the infl ationary forces, the long trend of

prices was upward. It affected all prices, including rents and other payments that were set in

money values, but the price of hired labor, that is, wages, rose the least. The price changes

thus had different effects on the well-being of different social classes.

The rising prices and growing population enhanced the economic opportunities for

commercial enterprises. Merchants could count on increasing numbers of customers, new

people could enter trade with hope of success, stocks of goods rose in value with the

passage of time, and borrowed money could more easily be repaid. Governments benefi ted

also, insofar as kings could count on having more taxpayers and more soldiers.

The Spaniards stamped out much of the Indian religion, which they viewed as idolatrous. Yet it is to Spanish priests that we owe the preservation of much of our knowledge of the pre-Conquest culture. This page is from a book in which a Spaniard wrote down the Aztec language in the Latin alphabet. A human sacrifi ce is also depicted. (Gianni Dagli Orti/The Art Archive at Art

Resource, NY)

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Chapter 3 The Atlantic World, Commerce, and Wars of Religion, 1560–1648110

The economic changes in Europe in the early modern period thus led to the

“Commercial Revolution,” a broad term signifying the rise of a capitalistic economy and the

transition from a town-centered to a nation-centered economic system. This “revolution”

was an exceptionally slow and protracted one; it began at least as early as the fourteenth

century and lasted until machine industry began to overshadow commerce in the early nine-

teenth century.

Changes in Commerce and Production

In the Middle Ages the town and its adjoining country formed an economic unit. Craftsmen,

organized in guilds, produced common articles for local use. Peasants and lords sold their

agricultural products to the local town, from which they bought what the craftsmen pro-

duced. The town protected itself by its own tariffs and regulations. In the workshop the

master both owned his “capital”—his house, workbench, tools, and materials—and acted as

a workman himself along with half a dozen journeymen and apprentices. The masters

owned a modest capital, but they were hardly capitalists. They produced only upon order, or

at least for customers whose tastes and number were known in advance. There was little

profi t, little risk of loss, and not much innovation.

All this changed with the widening of the trading area, or commercial market. Even

in the Middle Ages, as we have seen, there was a certain amount of long-distance trading

in articles that could not be produced as well in one place as in another. Gradually more

articles came within this category. Where goods were produced to be sold at some time

in the future, in faraway places, to persons unknown, the local guildmaster

could not manage the operation. He lacked the money (or “capital”) to

tie up in stocks of unsold wares; he lacked the knowledge of what distant

customers wanted, or where, in what quantities, and at what price people

would buy. In this new type of long-distance business, new kinds of entrepreneurs became

prominent in European commercial life. They usually started out as merchants working

in an extensive market and ended up as bankers. The Italian Medici family has been

mentioned as important in Renaissance banking and culture. Equally typical were the

German Fuggers.

New entrepreneurs

The silver mines at Potosí, por- trayed here in a late sixteenth- century illustration, sent over 500,000 pounds of silver to Spain every year. American precious metals and the labor of American Indians enabled the Spanish government to wage its costly European wars and to maintain a lucrative trade with Chinese merchants in Asia. (The Granger Collection, NYC)

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111

The fi rst of this family, Johann Fugger, a small-town weaver, came to Augsburg in

1368. He established a business in a new kind of cloth, called fustian, in which cotton was

mixed with other fabrics to produce clothing that was thicker or heavier than the woolens

and linens in which people then clothed themselves. Fugger thus enjoyed a more than local

market. Gradually the family began to deal also in spices, silks, and other Eastern goods

obtained at Venice. Later generations invested their large profi ts in other enterprises, nota-

bly mining. They lent money to the Renaissance popes. They lent Charles V the money he

needed to obtain election as Holy Roman Emperor in 1519. They became bankers to the

Habsburgs in both Germany and Spain. Together with other German and Flemish bankers,

the Fuggers fi nanced the Portuguese trade with Asia, either by outright loans or by provid-

ing in advance, on credit, the cargoes that the Portuguese traded for spices. The wealth of

the Fuggers became proverbial and declined only through repeated Habsburg bankruptcies

and with the general economic decline that beset Germany in the sixteenth century. By that

time, however, the family had become a kind of model for the transnational, commercial

practices that were reshaping the sixteenth-century European economy.

Other dealers in cloth, less spectacular than the fi rst Fugger, broke away from the town-

and-guild framework in other ways. England until the fi fteenth century was an exporter

of raw wool and an importer of fi nished woolens from Flanders. In the fi fteenth century

certain English entrepreneurs began to develop the spinning, weaving, and

dyeing of wool in England. To avoid the restrictive practices of the towns

and guilds they “put out” the work to people in the country, providing them

with looms and other equipment for the purpose, of which they generally

retained the ownership themselves. This “putting out” or “domestic” system spread very

widely outside the guild system, and, by the early modern period, typically depended on

a gendered division of labor. Women usually did the work of spinning wool into thread

The “putting out”

system

JAKOB FUGGER, “THE RICH” by Albrecht Dürer (German, 1471–1528)

This portrait of the German merchant and banker Jakob Fugger (1459–1525) suggests that the wealth of early modern commercial families attracted the interest of prominent artists as well as the attention of powerful monarchs. Dürer’s painting conveys both the status and sense of purpose that char- acterized Fugger’s wide-ranging economic career. (De Agostini/Getty Images)

12. The Commercial Revolution

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Chapter 3 The Atlantic World, Commerce, and Wars of Religion, 1560–1648112

STUDY OF TWO BLACK HEADS by Rembrandt van Rijn (Dutch, 1606–1669)

One major component of the new international trade was the transportation of enslaved black Africans to the Americas. Some Africans arrived also in Europe, where their presence con- tributed to the growing speculation on the diversity of the human races. Rembrandt, though he never traveled more than 20 miles from his native Leyden, painted all types of people who streamed into the Netherlands, including these two men who had to cope with the social and racial hierarchies of the strange European world into which they were cast. (The Bridgeman Art Library/Getty Images)

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113

(hence the later English term for an unmarried woman, “spinster”); men usually wove the

thread into cloth. In France the cloth dealers of Rouen, feeling the competition of the new

silk trade, developed a lighter, cheaper, and more simply made type of woolen cloth. Vari-

ous guild regulations in Rouen, to protect the workers there, prohibited the manufacture of

this cheaper cloth. The Rouen dealers, in 1496, took the industry into the country, installed

looms in peasant cottages, and farmed out the work to the peasants. The new commercial

enterprises therefore weakened the guilds’ economic infl uence and created new processes

for both the production of goods and the accumulation of capital.

Capital and Labor

The system of rural household industry remained typical of production in many lines

(cloth, hardware, etc.) in western Europe until the introduction of factories in the late eigh-

teenth century. It signifi ed a new divergence between capital and labor. On

the one hand were the workers, men and women who worked as the

employer needed them, received wages for what they did, and had little

interest in or knowledge of more than their own task. Living both by agri-

culture and by cottage industry, they formed an expansible labor force,

available when labor was needed, left to live by farming or local charity when times were

bad. On the other hand was the manager or entrepreneur (almost always a man) who

directed the whole affair. He had little or no personal acquaintance with the workers. Esti-

mating how much of his product, let us say woolens, he could sell in a national or even

international market, he purchased the needed raw materials, passed out wool to be spun

by one group of peasants, took the yarn to another group for weaving, collected the cloth

and took it still elsewhere to be dyed, paying wages on all sides for services rendered,

while retaining ownership of the materials and the equipment and keeping the coordination

and management of the whole enterprise in his own head. Much larger business enterprises

could be established in this way than within the municipal framework of guild and town.

Indeed, the very master weavers of the guilds often sank to the status of subcontractors,

hardly different from wage employees, of the great “clothiers” and “drapers” by whom the

business was dominated. The latter, with the widening market, became personages of

national or even international repute. And, of course, the bigger the business the more of a

capital investment it represented.

Certain other industries, new or virtually new in the fi fteenth and six-

teenth centuries, could by their nature never fi t into a town-centered system

and were capitalistic from the start, in that they required a large initial out-

lay before any income could be received. Mining was one such industry, and another was

printing and the book trade. Books had a national and even international market, being

mainly in Latin; and no ordinary craftsman could afford the outlay required for a printing

press, for fonts of type, supplies of paper, and stocks of books on hand. Printers therefore

borrowed from capitalists or shared with them an interest in business. Shipbuilding was so

stimulated by the shift to the oceans as almost to be a new industry, and still another was

the manufacture of cannons and muskets. For the latter the chief demand came from the

state, from the New Monarchies that were organizing national armies. In the rise of capital-

ism the needs of the military were in fact fundamentally important. Armies, which started

out by requiring thousands of weapons, in the seventeenth century required thousands of

uniforms, and in the eighteenth century many new barracks and fortifi cations. These heavy

demands were the fi rst to require mass production. Where governments themselves did

Divergence between

capital and labor

New industries

12. The Commercial Revolution

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Chapter 3 The Atlantic World, Commerce, and Wars of Religion, 1560–1648114

not take the initiative, private middlemen stepped in as links to the many small handicraft

workers and families who before the industrial age still manufactured the actual product.

The new sea route to the East and the discovery of America brought a vast increase in

trade not only of luxury items but of imported commodities like rice, sugar, tea, and other

consumer goods. Older commercial activities within Europe were also transformed by the

widening of markets. Spain increasingly drew cereals from Sicily. The Netherlands were

fed from Poland; the French wine districts lived on food brought from northern France.

With the growth of shipping, the timber, tar, pitch, and other “naval stores” of Russia and

the Baltic entered the commercial scene. There was thus an ever-growing movement of

heavy staple commodities, in which again only persons controlling large funds of capital

could normally take part.

Not all capital was invested; some was simply lent to the church, to governments, to

impecunious nobles, or, though perhaps this was the least common type of

lending in the sixteenth century, to persons engaged in trade and commerce.

Bankers and others who lent money expected to receive back, after a time,

a larger sum than that of the loan. They expected “interest”; and they some-

times received as much as 30 percent a year. In the Middle Ages the taking of interest had

been frowned upon as usury, denounced as avarice, and forbidden in the canon law. It was

still frowned upon in the sixteenth century by almost all but the lenders themselves. The

Catholic Church maintained its prohibitions. The theologians of the University of Paris

New banking

practices

The growing production of cloth in early modern Europe depended on the labor of fami- lies in rural cottage industries. Spinning thread became an important economic activity for many women, as Jean Bourdi- chon (1457–1521) demonstrates in this illustration of a family at work. The man is apparently a skilled woodworker, and the child is gathering wood chips that can be used for cooking food or heating the house. The solid walls and ceiling show that this is a prosperous, hard- working family. (Bridgeman-Giraudon/Art Resource,

NY)

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115

also ruled against it in 1530. Luther, who hated bankers like the Fuggers, continued to

preach against usury. Calvin made allowances, but as late as 1640, in capitalist Holland

itself, the stricter Calvinist ministers still denounced lending at interest.

Religious interventions, however, could never stop the practice. Borrowers com-

pounded with lenders to evade prohibitions, and theologians of all churches began to dis-

tinguish between “usury” and a “legitimate return.” Gradually, as interest rates fell, as

banking became more established, and as loans were made for economically productive

uses rather than to sustain ecclesiastics, princes, and nobles in their personal habits, the

feeling against a “reasonable” interest died down and interest became an accepted feature

of capitalism. The Bank of Amsterdam, for example, attracted depositors because they

knew their money was safe, would earn interest, and could be withdrawn at will. Deposits

thus fl owed into the bank from all countries and enabled it to make low-interest loans that

fi nanced new commercial activities.

The net effect of all these developments was a “commercialization of

industry.” The dynamic, entrepreneurial persons in commercial life were the

merchants. Industry, the actual processes of production, still in an essentially

handicraft stage, was subordinate to the buyers and sellers. Producers—

spinners, weavers, hatters, metalworkers, gunsmiths, glassworkers—worked to fi ll the

orders of the merchants, and often with capital that the merchants supplied and owned.

The entrepreneur who knew where the article could be sold prevailed over the person who

simply knew how to produce it. This commercial capitalism remained the typical form of

capitalism until after 1800, when, with the introduction of power machinery, it yielded to

industrial capitalism, and merchants became dependent on industrialists who owned, under-

stood, and organized the machines.

Mercantilism

There was still another aspect of the Commercial Revolution, namely, the various govern-

ment policies that go historically under the name of “mercantilism.” Rulers, as we have seen,

were hard pressed for money and needed more of it as their coins fell in value. The desire of

kings and their advisers to force gold and silver to fl ow into their own kingdoms was one of

the fi rst impulses leading to mercantilist regulation. Gradually this “bullionist” idea was

replaced by the more general idea of building up a strong and self-suffi cient economy. The

means adopted, in either case, was to “set the poor on work,” as they said in England, to turn

the country into a hive of industry, to discourage idleness, begging, vagabondage, and unem-

ployment. New crafts and manufactures were introduced, and favors were given to

merchants who provided work for “the poor” and who sold the country’s products abroad. It

was thought desirable to raise the export of fi nished goods and reduce the export of unpro-

cessed raw materials, to curtail all imports except of needed raw materials, and thus obtain a

“favorable” balance of trade so that other countries would have to pay their debts in bullion.

Since all this was done by a royal or nationwide system of regulations, mercantilism became

in the economic sphere what the state building of the New Monarchies was in the political,

signifying the transition from town to national units of social living.

Mercantilists frowned upon the localistic and conservative outlook of

the guilds. In England the guilds ceased to have importance. Parliament,

in the time of Elizabeth, did on a national scale what guilds had once done

locally when it enacted the Statute of Artifi cers of 1563, regulating the admission to appren-

ticeship and the level of wages in various trades. In France the royal government maintained

Commercial

capitalism

Opposition to guilds

12. The Commercial Revolution

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Chapter 3 The Atlantic World, Commerce, and Wars of Religion, 1560–1648116

the legal existence of the guilds, because they were convenient bodies to tax, but it deprived

them of most of their old independence and used them as organizations through which royal

control of industry could be enforced. In both countries the government assisted merchants

who wished to set up domestic or cottage industry in the country, against the protests of the

town guilds, which in their heyday had forbidden rural people to engage in crafts. Govern-

ments generally tried to suppress idleness. The famous English Poor Law of 1601 (which

remained in effect, with amendments, until 1834) was designed to force able-bodied people

to work and to relieve the absolute destitution of those who could not.

Governments likewise took steps to introduce new industries. The silk industry was

brought from Italy to France under royal protection, to the dismay of French woolen and

linen interests. The English government assisted in turning England from a producer of

raw wool into a producer of fi nished woolens, supervising the immigration of skilled

Flemish weavers and even fetching from faraway Turkey, about 1582, two youths who

understood the more advanced dyeing arts of the Middle East. Generally, under mercantil-

ism, governments fought to steal skilled workers from each other while prohibiting or

discouraging the emigration of their own skilled workers, who might take

their trade secrets and “mysteries” to foreign parts.

By such means governments helped to create a national market and an

industrious nationwide labor supply for their great merchants. Without such

government support the great merchants, such as the drapers or clothiers,

could never have risen and prospered. The same help was given to merchants operating

in foreign markets. Henry VII of England in 1496 negotiated a commercial treaty with

Flanders; and in the next century the kings of France signed treaties with the Ottoman

Empire by which French merchants obtained privileges in the Middle East. A merchant

backed by a national monarchy was in a much stronger position than one backed merely by

a city, such as Augsburg or Venice. This backing on a national scale was again given when

national governments subsidized exports, paying bounties for goods whose production

they wished to encourage, or when they erected tariff barriers against imports to protect

their own producers from competition. Thus a national tariff system was superimposed

on the old network of provincial and municipal tariffs. These latter were now thought of as

“internal tariffs,” and mercantilists usually wished to abolish them to create an area of free

trade within the state as a whole. But local interests were so strong that for centuries the

European monarchies were unable to get rid of local tariffs except in England. Meanwhile,

however, the new commercial capitalism developed everywhere with the support of

government protections, subsidies, and economic interventions.

In distant parts of the world, or in less accessible regions nearer home, such as the

Muslim lands or Russia, it was not possible for individual European merchants to act by

merely private initiative. Merchants trading with such countries needed a good deal of capi-

tal, they often had to obtain special privileges and protection from native rulers, and they

had to arm their ships against Barbary or Malay pirates or against hostile

Europeans. Merchants and their respective governments came together to

found offi cial companies for the transocean trade. In England, soon after the

English discovery of the White Sea in 1553, a Russia Company was estab-

lished. A Turkey Company soon followed. Shortly after 1600 a great many

such companies were operating out of England, Holland, and France. The most famous of

all were the East India Companies, which the English founded in 1600, the Dutch in 1602,

the French not until 1664. In 1672 the English also chartered the Royal African Company,

which for a time controlled the English slave trade and the gold imports from west Africa.

National markets

Chartered trading

companies

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117

Each of these companies was a state-supported organization with special rights. Each was

a monopoly in that only merchants who belonged to the company could legally engage in

trade in the region for which the company had a charter. Each was expected to fi nd markets

for the national products, and most of them were expected to bring home gold or silver.

With these companies the northern European peoples began to encroach on the Spanish and

Portuguese monopoly in America, Africa, and the East. With them new commercial-colonial

empires would be launched and expanded. But, as we have already observed, before this

could happen it was necessary for certain domestic and transnational European confl icts and

controversies to be settled.

13. CHANGING SOCIAL STRUCTURES

Social structure, for present purposes, refers to the composition, functions, and interrelation-

ships of social classes. Because changes in social structure are slow, they are hard to iden-

tify in specifi c decades or particular periods of time. In general, however, with the effects of

the Commercial Revolution, population growth, and the falling value of money, the classes

of Europe, broadly defi ned, took on forms that were to last until the industrializing era of the

nineteenth and twentieth centuries. These classes were the landed aristocracy, the peasantry

or mass of agricultural workers, the miscellaneous middle classes, and the urban poor.

The headquarters of the Dutch East India Company in Bengal in 1665, long before the British gained predominance there. It is wholly walled off from the Indian life around it, with offi ces, living quarters, and spacious gardens for employees of the company. (Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam)

13. Changing Social Structures

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Chapter 3 The Atlantic World, Commerce, and Wars of Religion, 1560–1648118

While all prices rose in the sixteenth century, it was agricultural prices that rose the

most. Anyone who had agricultural products to sell was likely to benefi t. Among such ben-

efi ciaries were peasants who held small plots of land in return for fi xed payments to a

manorial lord. Many such payments were set in unchangeable sums of money, in the old

values of the fourteenth or even thirteenth century, so the price infl ation of the sixteenth

century enabled some peasants in effect to pay much less to the lord than in the past. Other

rural workers, however, either held no land of their own or produced only at a subsistence

level with nothing to sell in the market. Such peasants, and hired hands dependent

on wages, found their situation worsened. Village life became less egalitar-

ian than it had been in the Middle Ages. In England a class of small free-

holders (the “yeomanry”) developed between the landed gentry and the

rural poor. On the Continent, at least in France, western Germany, and the

Netherlands, an increasingly prosperous class of peasants acquired more secure property

rights, resembling those of small freeholders in England. But both in England and on the

Continent a large class of unpropertied rural workers remained in poverty and excluded

from the emerging international markets for agricultural products.

Land rents went up as agricultural prices rose, and infl ation and population growth drove

up rentals for housing in the towns. Owners of real property (that is, land and buildings)

were favored by such changes, but within the former class of feudal lords the effects were

mixed. If one’s great-grandfather had let out land in earlier times in exchange for fi xed sums

of money, the value of the income received had actually declined. But those landowners who

received payments in kind from their tenants, for example, in bushels of wheat or barley, or

who managed their large estates themselves, could sell their actual agricultural products at

current prices and so increase their money income.

Social Classes

The former feudal class, or nobles, thus turned into a more modern kind of aristocracy.

If income from their estates declined, they sought paid service in the king’s army or govern-

ment or appointment to the more prestigious offi ces in the church. If landed income

increased, they were more wealthy. In either case, and even if they served as military com-

manders, they became more concerned with civilian pursuits; and they were likely to develop

more refi ned tastes and pay more attention to the education of their children. Like the peas-

ants, the landowning class became more heterogeneous, ranging from the

small gentry to the great peers of England and from small or impoverished

nobles to the grands seigneurs of France. Some led a life of leisure; others were eager to work in the higher reaches of organized government. The most

impoverished nobles sometimes had the longest pedigrees. As their social functions changed,

and as persons of more recent family background competed for education, government

employment, and even military service, there came to be an increasing importance set upon

ancestry as a badge of status. Among the upper class, there was more insistence on high birth

and distinguished forebears in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries than there had been

before. But many nobles also claimed that they deserved special privileges because they

contributed meritorious service to kings or the expanding national governments.

Below the aristocracy were the “middle classes,” or “bourgeoisie.”

Bourgeois was a French word, which, like the English “burgher,” originally meant a person living in a chartered town or borough and enjoying its liberties.

The bourgeoisie was the whole social class made up of individual bourgeois. In a much later

sense of the word, derived from Karl Marx in the nineteenth century, the term “bourgeoisie”

Small freeholders

The nobility

The bourgeoisie

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119

was applied to the class of owners of capital. This Marxist concept of the bourgeoisie must be

kept distinct from the meaning of the word in an earlier era. “Bourgeoisie” referred in prein-

dustrial times to the middle levels of society between the aristocracy, which drew its income

from land, and the laboring poor, who depended on wages or charity, or who often went hun-

gry. Class lines tended to blur as aristocratic families formed the habit of living in towns and

middle-class burghers began to buy land in the country. Some bourgeois thus came to live on

landed rents, while some of the gentry and aristocracy, most notably in England, bought shares

in the great overseas trading companies or engaged in other forms of business enterprise. Aris-

tocrats possessing large agricultural estates, timberlands, or mines increasingly brought their

products to market to be sold at a profi t. But even when aristocrat and bourgeois became eco-

nomically more alike, a consciousness of social difference between them remained.

The middle class became more numerous in the sixteenth century, and

increasingly so thereafter. It was an indefi nite category, since the countries

of Europe were very different in the size and importance of their middle

classes, in the kinds of persons who belonged to them, and in the types of

occupations that bourgeois people pursued. Near the top were the urban elites who gov-

erned the towns; they might draw their incomes from rural property, from commerce, or

from the emoluments of government itself, and they sometimes intermarried with persons

of noble status. Especially where the towns were strong or royal government was weak,

as in the Netherlands, the German free cities, or north Italy, such urban patriciates formed

virtual aristocracies in themselves. But in a larger social perspective, or in the context of

the more powerful monarchical states, the families of merchants, bankers, and shipowners

were middle class, as were those of the traditional learned professions, law and medicine.

So, in general, were judges, tax offi cials, and other employees of governments, except in

the highest ranks. In the professions and in government service the younger sons of the

aristocracy might be found alongside the offspring of the middle classes, most commonly

in England, less so in France, and even less as one moved into Germany or Spain.

The clergy was drawn from all classes. There were poor parish priests, who might be

the sons of peasants, and there were bishops and abbots from the most prominent noble

families; but the bulk of the clergy was recruited from middle-class families. In Protestant

countries, where the clergy married, their sons and daughters became an important element

in the middle class. Members of trade guilds were middle class, though the guilds differed

widely in social status, from those of the great wholesale merchants or the goldsmiths,

down through the guilds of such humble occupations as the tanners and barrel makers. At

the bottom the middle class faded into the social world of small retail shopkeepers, inn-

keepers, owners of workshops in which ordinary articles were manufactured by hand, the

lesser skilled tradespeople, and their employees, journeymen, and apprentices.

The mass of the population in all countries was composed of the work-

ing poor. These included not only the unskilled wage laborers but the

unemployed, unemployable, and paupers, with a large fringe that turned

to vagabondage and begging. They were unable to read or write and were

often given to irregular habits that distressed both middle-class persons and government

offi cials. Poverty was increasingly viewed as an example or outcome of immorality. The

efforts of mercantilist governments to put the poor to work, or to make them contribute to

the wealth of the country, have already been mentioned. Charitable relief also developed

toward the end of the sixteenth century, as shown in the English Poor Law of 1601 and

in similar efforts on the Continent. The idea gained ground that begging was a public

nuisance and that the poor should thus be segregated in workhouses or hospices from the

rest of society. Most of the poor were of course not recipients of such relief. They were

Middle-class growth

and diversity

The working class

poor

13. Changing Social Structures

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Chapter 3 The Atlantic World, Commerce, and Wars of Religion, 1560–1648120

the working men and women who tilled the fi elds, wove the cloth, tended the livestock,

dug in the mines, or went to sea as fi shermen and common sailors. They also found work

in the towns as casual laborers, porters, water carriers, or removers of excrement; or they

entered the domestic service of noble and upper middle-class families, whose rising stan-

dard of living required a growing number of chambermaids, cooks, washerwomen, foot-

men, lackeys, coachmen, and stable boys. Domestic service was in fact the most common

job for women during the entire period of early modern history, and the pay for such work

remained extremely low. Wages rose less than prices in the sixteenth century. The poor,

if not positively worse off than in former times, gained the least from the great commer-

cial developments with which economic history is usually concerned. The very growth of

social differentiation, the fact that the middle and upper classes made such advances, left

the condition of the poor correspondingly worse.

OLD WOMAN COOKING EGGS by Diego Velázquez (Spanish, 1599–1660)

Velázquez was best known for his portraits of people at the Spanish royal court, but he also portrayed the lives and character of the lower classes—as in this painting of an unknown woman preparing food for a child. (DeA Picture Library/The Granger Collection, NYC)

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121

Social Roles of Education and Government

Education in the latter part of the sixteenth century took on an altogether new importance

for the social system. One consequence of the Reformation, in both Protestant and Catholic

countries, was the attempt to put a serious and effective pastor in each parish. This set up a

demand for a more educated clergy. The growth of commerce made it necessary to have

literate clerks and agents. Governments wanted men from both the noble and middle classes

who could cooperate in large organizations, be reliable, understand fi nance, keep records,

and draft proposals. There was also a widespread need for lawyers. Every profession,

commercial enterprise, and government institution, in short, was seeking better-educated

persons to manage and advance their interests.

The new demand for education was met by an outburst of philanthropy,

which reached a high point in both England and France between about 1580

and 1640. Many endowed scholarships were established. At what would

now be called a secondary level, hundreds of “grammar schools” were

founded at this time in England. In France the collèges combined the work of the English grammar school with what corresponded to the fi rst year or two of university work at

Oxford or Cambridge. Of the 167 most important French colleges still existing at the time

of the Revolution in 1789, only 36 had been founded in the centuries before 1560, and

92 were established in the years between 1560 and 1650. Provision for girls’ schools was

more sporadic, but the Ursuline sisters, for example, founded in Italy in 1535, had estab-

lished about 350 convents by the year 1700 in Catholic Europe and even in Canada, in

most of which the education of girls was a principal purpose and occupation of the sisters.

Dutch and Swiss Protestants founded the universities of Leyden and Geneva. New

universities, both Protestant and Catholic, appeared in Germany. In Spain the multiplica-

tion of universities was phenomenal. Castile, with only 2 universities dating from the Mid-

dle Ages, had 20 by the early seventeenth century; Salamanca was enrolling over 5,000

students a year. Five universities also existed in Spanish America by 1600. In England,

new colleges were founded at Oxford and Cambridge, and it was especially in these years

that some of the Oxford and Cambridge colleges became very wealthy. Annual freshman

admissions at Oxford, barely 100 in 1550, rose to over 500 in the 1630s, a fi gure not

exceeded, or even equaled, during the following 200 years.

The schools, colleges, and universities drew their students from a wide

range of social classes. There was less organized schooling for girls than

for boys, but an intelligent and lucky boy of poor family had perhaps a

better chance for education than at any time in Europe until very recently.

In Spain most of the students seem to have been lesser nobles, or “hidalgos,” aspiring to

positions in the church or government; but hidalgos were very numerous in Spain, over-

lapping with what might be called the middle class in other countries. The French col-

leges, including those operated by the Jesuits, recruited their students very widely, taking

in the sons of nobles, merchants, shopkeepers, artisans, and even, more rarely, of peas-

ants. English grammar schools did likewise; it was in later times that a few of them, like

Eton and Harrow, became more exclusive public schools. As for universities, we have

detailed knowledge for Oxford, which recorded the status of its students at matriculation,

classifying them as “esquires,” “gentlemen,” “clergy,” and “plebeians.” From 1560 to 1660

about half of the Oxford students were plebeians, which in the language of that time could

embrace the whole middle class from big merchants down to quite modest social levels. It

seems certain that Oxford and Cambridge were more widely representative of the English

people in 1660 than in 1900.

New schools and

universities

Wider access to

education

13. Changing Social Structures

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Chapter 3 The Atlantic World, Commerce, and Wars of Religion, 1560–1648122

Social classes were formed not only by economic forces, and not only by education,

but also by the actions of governments. Government could inhibit economic growth, as in

Spain, or promote it, as in England. We have noted how kings contributed

to the rise of commercial capitalism and a new business class by granting

monopolies, borrowing from bankers, and issuing charters to trading com-

panies. In many countries, and notably in France, many families owed their

middle-class position to the holding of government offi ces, some of which might become

a form of inheritable property. It might also be the action of governments, as much as eco-

nomic conditions, that defi ned or promoted distinctions between nobles and commoners,

or “privileged” and “unprivileged” classes. Where peasants suffered heavily from royal

taxes, it was more from political than from economic causes. The king, by “making”

nobles—that is, by conferring titles of nobility on persons who did not inherit them—

could raise a few in the middle class to higher status. Tax exemption could also be a sign

of high social standing. The king exercised political power, but he was simultaneously the

fountain of social honor at the top of “society.” The royal court formed the apex of a pyra-

mid of social rank, in which each class looked up to or down upon the others. Those

favored with the royal presence disdained the plain country nobility, who sniffed at

the middle classes, who patronized or disparaged the hired servants, day laborers, and the

poor. Looking upward in the social hierarchy, people were expected to show deference

toward those with higher social status.

Government and

social classes

A seventeenth-century monk is teaching in Spain at the Uni- versity of Salamanca, one of the largest European universities of the time and an example of how such institutions expanded in both Catholic and Protestant countries during the century after the Protestant Reforma- tion. Many students are more interested in their friends or other distractions than in the instructor’s lecture–which sug- gests the continuities of class- room experiences across the centuries. (Index/The Bridgeman Art Library)

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123

Eastern and Western Europe

One other remark may be made on social structure. It was in the sixteenth century that

important social differences developed between eastern and western Europe. In the west,

the Commercial Revolution and the gradual emergence of global trading systems brought

advantageous changes to the middle class and even to many of the peasants for whom the

old burdens of the manorial system were lightened. In eastern Europe, it was the lords who

benefi ted from rising prices and the growing market for grain and forest products. Here too

the institution of the manor existed; but the peasants’ land tenures were more precarious

than in the west and more dependent on accidents of death or on the wishes of the lord. The

lords in eastern Europe also tended to work a larger part of their manors with their own

workforces for their own use or profi t.

The rise of prices and expansion of Baltic shipping gave the lords a strong incentive

to increase their output. In northeast Germany (where such lords were called Junkers), in

Poland, and as time went on in Russia, Bohemia, and Hungary, beginning in the sixteenth

century and continuing into the eighteenth, a vast process set in by which most of the

peasantry sank into more restrictive forms of serfdom. This process was

hastened in many regions by the violence and insecurity engendered by the

religious wars. Typically, peasants lost their individual parcels of land or

received them back on the condition that they render unpaid labor services

to the lord. Usually peasants owed three or four days a week of such forced

labor (called robot in Bohemia and adjoining territories), remaining free to work during the remainder of the week on their own parcels. Often the number of days of robot exacted by the lord was greater, since in eastern Europe, where central monarchy was weak and

centralized legal systems were almost unknown, the lord himself was the fi nal court of

appeal for his people. His people were in fact his “subjects.”

Serfdom in Germany was not called serfdom, but “hereditary subjection.” By what-

ever name they were known throughout eastern Europe, serfs, or hereditary subjects of the

manorial lord, could not leave the manor, marry, or learn a trade without the lord’s express

permission. The lord, drawing on this large reserve of compulsory labor, using most of it

for agriculture but teaching some quick-minded youths the various handicrafts that were

needed on the estate, worked the land as his own venture, sold the produce, and retained

the profi t.

Thus, in eastern Europe at the beginning of modern times, the rural masses lost per-

sonal freedoms and lived in a poverty that was mostly unknown among the peasants to the

west, poor as the latter were. In western Europe there were peasants who were already on

the way to becoming small proprietors. They were free people under the law. They could

migrate, marry, and learn trades as opportunity offered. Those who held land could defend

it in the royal courts and raise crops and take part in the market economy on their own

account. They owed the lord no forced labor—or virtually none, for the 10 days a year of

corvée still found in parts of France hardly compared with the almost full-time robot of the peasant in eastern Europe.

The landlord in the east, from the sixteenth century onward, was solidly entrenched

in his own domain, monarch of all he surveyed, with no troublesome bourgeoisie to annoy

him (for towns were few), and with kings and territorial rulers solicitous of his wishes.

Travelers from the west were impressed with the wealth of great Polish and Lithuanian

magnates, with their palatial homes, private art galleries, well-stocked libraries, collections

of jewels, gargantuan dinners, and lavish hospitality. The Junkers of northeast Germany

lived more modestly, but enjoyed the same kind of independence and social superiority.

Serfdom in eastern

Europe

13. Changing Social Structures

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Chapter 3 The Atlantic World, Commerce, and Wars of Religion, 1560–1648124

The growing power of wealthy landlords and the weakening position of impoverished

peasants would have decisive social and political consequences for the later history of

Prussia, Poland, Russia, and the Austrian world. But meanwhile, amidst all the economic

growth, social development, and overseas conquests that have been described in the

preceding pages, Europe was torn by the destructive ferocity of the Wars of Religion.

14. THE WARS OF CATHOLIC SPAIN: THE NETHERLANDS AND ENGLAND

The Ambitions of Philip II

Charles V, having tried in vain for 35 years to preserve religious unity in Germany, abdi-

cated his many crowns and retired to a monastery in 1556, the year after the Peace of

Augsburg had given the ruler of each German state the right to choose its own religion. He

left Austria, Bohemia, and Hungary (or the small part of it not occupied by the Turks) to

his brother Ferdinand, who was soon elected Holy Roman Emperor (see map, p. 79).

All his other possessions Charles left to his son Philip, who became Philip II of Spain. The

Habsburg dynasty remained thereafter divided into two branches, the Austrian and the

Spanish. The two cooperated in European affairs. The Spanish branch for a century was

the more important. Philip II (1556–1598) not only possessed the Spanish kingdoms but in

1580 inherited Portugal, so that the whole Iberian peninsula was brought under his rule. He

possessed the 17 provinces of the Netherlands and the Free County of Burgundy, which

were member states of the Holy Roman Empire, lying on its western border, adjacent to

France. Milan in north Italy and Naples in the south belonged to Philip, and since he also

held the chief islands, as well as Tunis, he enjoyed a naval ascendancy in the western

Mediterranean that was threatened only by the Turks. For fi ve years, until the death of

Queen Mary in 1558, he was titular king of England, and in 1589, in the name of his

daughter, he laid claim to the throne of France. Almost all of Central and South America

belonged to Philip II, and after 1580 all the Portuguese Empire as well, so that except for a

few nautical daredevils all ships plying the open ocean were the Spanish king’s.

Philip II therefore naturally regarded himself as an international fi gure, and even more

so because he combined the organizing methods of a new monarchy with a profound inter-

est in the political and religious issues that were dividing post-Reformation Europe. He

saw Spain as a leader of European Catholicism, and he believed that the advance of Span-

ish power in Europe served the cause of the universal church as well as the interests of his

own monarchy and the people of Spain. Yet his attempts to protect and enhance Spanish

power in Italy sometimes led to confl icts with the popes, and much of his

foreign policy was directed against the Ottoman Empire in a continuing

struggle for control of the Mediterranean Sea. European Protestantism was

thus only one of Philip’s many international concerns.

Philip’s active participation in Europe’s religious wars should therefore be seen as part

of his wider military and political campaigns to protect Spanish and Habsburg interests

rather than a single-minded crusade for Catholicism. In his personal life, he was serious,

devout, and hardworking. He gave the most detailed attention to the management of his

far-fl ung territories. The wealth that fl owed to his country from Potosí and other mines

in South America enabled Philip to pursue his goals throughout Europe and the Mediter-

ranean. Meanwhile, Spain also entered upon the Golden Age of its early modern culture.

In this period, the siglo de oro, running in round dates from 1550 to 1650, Cervantes wrote his Don Quixote (in two parts, 1605, 1615) and Lope de Vega wrote his 200 dramas,

Philip’s goals

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125

while El Greco, Murillo, and Velázquez painted their pictures, and the Jesuit Suarez

composed works on philosophy and law that were read even in Protestant countries. As

Cervantes showed in Don Quixote, many Spaniards were highly aware of the enduring ten- sions between high ideals and the diffi cult realities of social, political, and religious life.

But Catholic traditions and the Catholic church remained a powerful force in Spanish cul-

ture. The church was vitally present at every social level, from the archbishop of Toledo,

who ranked above grandees and could address the king as an equal, down to a host of

penniless and mendicant friars, who mixed with the poorest people in Spain.

Philip II built himself a new royal residence, the Escorial, which well

expressed in solid stone its creator’s political and religious determination.

Madrid itself was a new town, merely a government center, far from the

worldly distractions of Toledo or Valladolid. But it was 30 miles from Madrid, on the

bleak arid plateau of central Castile, overlooked by the jagged Sierra, that Philip chose

to erect the Escorial. He built it in honor of St. Lawrence, on whose feast day he had

won a battle against the French. The connecting buildings were laid out in the shape of a

grill, since, according to martyrologists, St. Lawrence, in the year 258, had been burned

alive on a grill over burning coals. Somber and vast, made of blocks of granite meant to

last forever, and with its highest spire rising 300 feet from the ground, the Escorial was

designed not only as a palace but as a center for religious life and the effi cient management

of a vast empire. Working constantly in this somber setting, Philip II dispatched his couri-

ers to Mexico, to Manila, to Vienna, and to Milan. He sent his troops off to Italy and the

Netherlands, his diplomats to all the royal courts of Europe, and his spies wherever they

were needed—seeking to extend the infl uence of his powerful state and (when possible) to

promote the Catholicism in which he devoutly believed.

The fi rst years of Philip’s reign were also the fi rst years of Elizabeth’s reign in

England, where the religious issue was still in fl ux; they were years in which Calvinism

agitated the Netherlands, and when France, ruled by teenaged boys, fell into implacable

civil war. Religious loyalties that knew no frontiers overlapped all political boundaries.

Everywhere there were people who looked for guidance outside their own countries.

Fervent Calvinists in England, France, and the Netherlands felt closer to one another than

to their own monarchs or their own neighbors. Fervent Catholics, in all three countries,

welcomed the support of international Catholic forces—the Jesuits, the king of Spain, the

pope. National unity threatened to dissolve or was not yet formed. The sense of mutual

trust between people who lived side by side was eaten away; and people who lived not

only in the same country, but in the same town, on the same street, or even in the same

house, turned against each other in the name of a higher religious cause.

For about fi ve years, beginning in 1567, it seemed that a resurgent

Catholicism might prevail throughout Europe. Catholic forces took the

offensive on all fronts. In 1567 Philip sent a new and fi rmer governor gen-

eral to the Netherlands, the Duke of Alva, with 20,000 Spanish soldiers; the

duke proceeded to suppress religious and political dissidents by establishing a Council of

Troubles. In 1569 Philip, who was preparing for a new war with the Ottoman Turks, put

down a revolt of the Moriscos (converted Muslims) in Spain. In the same year the Catho-

lics of northern England, led by the Duke of Norfolk and sewing the cross of crusaders on

their garments, rose in armed rebellion against their heretic queen. In the next year, 1570,

the pope excommunicated Elizabeth and absolved her subjects from allegiance to her,

so that English Catholics, if they wished, could henceforth in good conscience conspire

to overthrow her. In 1571 the Spanish joined with the Venetians and others to win a great

naval battle against the Turks, at Lepanto off the coast of Greece. Although this battle was

The Escorial

The Catholic

offensive

14. The Wars of Catholic Spain: The Netherlands and England

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Chapter 3 The Atlantic World, Commerce, and Wars of Religion, 1560–1648126

part of the ongoing military struggle for political and economic control of the Mediter-

ranean, some Spanish sailors wove a cross on their sails and portrayed their war with the

Ottomans as a new Christian resistance to Islam. In the next year, 1572, the Catholic lead-

ers of France, with the advice of the pope and of Philip II, decided to make an end of the

Huguenots, or French Protestants. Over 3,000 were seized and put to death on the eve of

St. Bartholomew’s Day in Paris alone; and this massacre was followed by other violence

and lesser liquidations throughout the provinces.

But none of these victories proved enduring. The Turks soon recovered from their

defeat at Lepanto and built a new fl eet. In fact, they took Tunis from Philip two years later.

The Moriscos were not assimilated (they would be expelled from Spain in 1609). The

English Catholic rebellion was stamped out; 800 persons were put to death by Elizabeth’s

government. The revolt in the Netherlands remained very much alive, as did the French

Huguenots. Twenty years later England was Protestant, the Dutch were winning indepen-

dence, a Huguenot had become king of France, and the Spanish fl eet had gone to ruin in

northern waters. Despite the global power and wealth of the vast Spanish Empire, Spain’s

armies and naval forces would fi nally abandon their long campaign to drive the Muslims

from the Mediterranean and the Protestants from northern Europe.

KING PHILIP II OF SPAIN by Titian (Italian, 1488–1576)

This portrait of the Spanish king suggests the highly focused political, religious, and military purpose in this devout Catholic monarch. (Alinari/Art Resource, NY)

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127

The Revolt of the Netherlands

The Netherlands, or Low Countries, roughly comprised the area of the

modern kingdoms of the Netherlands and Belgium and the grand duchy

of Luxembourg. They consisted of 17 provinces, which in the fi fteenth

century, one by one, had been inherited, purchased, or conquered by the

dukes of Burgundy, from whom they were inherited by Charles V and his son, Philip II. In the

mid-sixteenth century neither a Dutch nor a Belgian nationality yet existed. In the northern

provinces the people spoke German dialects; in the southern provinces they spoke dialects

of French; but neither here, nor elsewhere in Europe, was it felt that language boundaries

had anything to do with political borders. The southern provinces had for centuries been

busy commercial centers, and we have seen how Antwerp, having once fl ourished in trade

with Venice, now fl ourished in trade with Lisbon. The northern provinces that were most

open to the sea, the counties of Holland and Zeeland, had developed rapidly in the fi fteenth

century. They had a popular literature of their own, written in their own kind of German,

which came to be called Dutch. The wealth of the northern provinces was drawn from

deep-sea fi shing. Amsterdam was said to be built on herring bones, and the Dutch, when

they added trading to fi shing, still lived by the sea.

The northern provinces felt no tie with each other and no sense of difference from the

southern provinces. Each of the 17 provinces was a small state or country in itself, and each

enjoyed typical medieval liberties and privileges. The only common bond of all 17 provinces

was simply that beginning with the dukes of Burgundy they had the same ruler; but since

they had the same ruler, they were called upon from time to time to send delegates to an

estates general, and so developed an embryonic sense of federal collaboration. The feeling of

Netherlandish identity was heightened with the accession of Philip II, for Philip, unlike his

father, was thought of as foreign, a Spaniard who lived in Spain; and after 1560 Spanish

governors general, Spanish offi cials, and Spanish troops were seen more frequently in the

Netherlands. Moreover, since the Netherlands was the crossroads of Europe, with a tradition

of earnestness in religion, Protestant ideas took root very early, and after 1560, when reli-

gious wars began in France, a great many French Calvinists fl ed across the borders. At fi rst,

there were probably more Calvinists in the southern provinces than in the northern, more

among the people whom we now call Belgians than among those whom we now call Dutch.

The Dutch revolt against Philip II was inextricably political and

religious at the same time, and it became increasingly an economic struggle

as the years went by. It began in 1566, when some 200 nobles of the vari-

ous provinces founded a league to check the “foreign” or Spanish infl uence

in the Netherlands. The league, to which both Catholic and Protestant nobles belonged,

petitioned Philip II not to employ the Spanish Inquisition in the Netherlands. They feared

the trouble it would stir up; they feared it as a foreign court; they feared that in the enforce-

ment of its rulings the liberties of their provinces would be crushed. Philip’s agents in the

Netherlands refused the petition. A mass revolt now broke out. Within a week fanatical

Calvinists pillaged 400 churches, pulling down images, breaking stained-glass windows,

defacing paintings and tapestries, making off with gold chalices, destroying with a fi erce

contempt the symbols of “popery”—and “idolatry.” The rank and fi le for these anti-

Catholic and anti-Spanish demonstrations consisted chiefl y of journeymen wage earners,

whose fury was driven by social and economic grievances as well as religious belief. Before

such vandalism the more moderate petitioning nobles recoiled; the Catholics among them,

as well as less militant Protestants, unable to control their revolutionary followers, began

to look upon the Spanish authorities with less disfavor.

The Netherlands

provinces

Revolt of the

Netherlands

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Chapter 3 The Atlantic World, Commerce, and Wars of Religion, 1560–1648128

Philip II, appalled at the sacrilege, forthwith sent in the Inquisition, the Duke of Alva,

and reinforcements of Spanish troops. Alva’s Council of Troubles, nicknamed the Council

of Blood, sentenced some thousands to death, levied new taxes, and confi scated the estates

of a number of important nobles. These measures united people of all classes in opposi-

tion. What might otherwise have been primarily a confl ict between social classes now took

on the character of a national opposition. At its head emerged one of the noblemen whose

estates had been confi scated by Spanish forces, William of Orange (called William the

Silent), Philip II’s “stadholder” or lieutenant in the County of Holland. Beginning to claim

the authority of a sovereign, William authorized ship captains to make war at sea. Fishing

crews, “sea dogs,” and downright pirates began to raid the small port towns of the Nether-

lands and France, descending upon them without warning, desecrating the churches, loot-

ing, torturing, and killing, in a wild combination of religious rage, political hatred, and lust

for booty. The Spanish reciprocated by renewing their land confi scations, their inquisitorial

tortures, and their burnings and hangings. The Netherlands was torn by anarchy, revolu-

tion, and civil war. No lines were clear, either political or religious. But in 1576 the anti-

Spanish feeling prevailed over religious difference. Representatives of all 17 provinces,

putting aside the religious question, formed a union to drive out the Spanish at any cost.

The Involvement of England

But the Netherlands revolution, though it was becoming a national revolution with politi-

cal independence as its fi rst aim, was only part of the international politico-religious strug-

gle. All sorts of other interests became involved in it. Queen Elizabeth of

England lent aid to the Netherlands, though for many years surreptitiously,

not wishing to provoke a war with Spain, in which it was feared that English

Catholics might side with the Spaniards. Elizabeth was troubled by having

on her hands an unwanted guest, Mary Queen of Scots. Mary had remained a Catholic and

had been queen of France until her husband’s premature death, and queen of Scotland until

driven out by irate Calvinist lords, and who—if the pope, the king of Spain, the Jesuits,

and many English Catholics were to have their way—would also be queen of England

instead of the usurper Elizabeth. 1 Elizabeth under these circumstances kept Mary Stuart

imprisoned. Many intrigues were afoot to put Mary on the English throne, some with and

some without Mary’s knowledge.

In 1576 Don Juan, hero of the Spanish naval victory at Lepanto and half-brother of

Philip II, became governor general of the embattled Netherlands. He developed a grandi-

ose plan to subdue the Netherlands and then to use that country as a base for an invasion

of England. After overthrowing Elizabeth with Spanish troops, he would put Mary Stuart

on the throne, marry her himself, and so become king of a re-Catholicized England. Thus

the security of Elizabethan and Protestant England was coming to depend on the outcome

of fi ghting in the Netherlands. Elizabeth signed an alliance with the Netherlands patriots.

Don Juan died in 1578 and was succeeded as governor general of the Netherlands by

the prince of Parma. A diplomat as well as a soldier, Parma broke the solid front of the 17

provinces by a mixture of force and persuasion. He promised that the historic liberties of

the provinces would be respected, and he appealed not only to the more zealous Catholics

but also to moderates who were wearying of the struggle and repelled by mob violence and

England lends support

to the Dutch

1 Mary Stuart, a great-granddaughter of Henry VII, was the next lawful heir to the English throne after Elizabeth,

since Elizabeth had no children.

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129

religious vandalism. On this basis he rallied the southernmost provinces to his side. The

seven northern provinces, led by Holland and Zeeland, responded by forming the Union of

Utrecht in 1579. In 1581 they formally declared their independence from

the king of Spain, calling themselves the United Provinces of the Nether-

lands. Thus originated what was more commonly called the Dutch Repub-

lic, or simply “Holland” in view of the predominance of that county among the seven. The

great Flemish towns—Antwerp, Ghent, and Bruges—at fi rst sided with the “Dutch” Union.

Where formerly all had been turmoil, a geographical line was now drawn. The south

rallying to Philip II now faced a still rebellious north. But neither side accepted any such

partition. Parma still fought to reconquer the north, and the Dutch, led by William the

Silent, still struggled to clear the Spanish out of all 17 provinces. Meanwhile the two sides

fought to capture the intermediate Flemish cities. When Parma moved upon Antwerp, still

the leading port of the North Sea, and one from which an invasion of England could best

be mounted, Elizabeth at last openly entered the war on the side of the rebels, sending

6,000 English troops to the Netherlands in 1585.

The Union of Utrecht

THE LOW COUNTRIES, 1648 This group of towns and provinces, along the lower reaches of the Rhine, Meuse, and Scheldt rivers, originated in the Middle Ages as part of the Holy Roman Empire. The northern or Dutch provinces were recognized as independent of the empire in 1648. Early in the seventeenth century a political frontier emerged between the “Dutch” and “Belgian” parts, but the word “Belgium” was not used until much later, the southern or Habsburg provinces being called the Spanish Netherlands in the seventeenth century and the Austrian Netherlands in the eighteenth. The large bishopric of Liège remained a separate church-state until the French Revolution. The language frontier, then as now, ran roughly east and west somewhat south of Brussels, with French to the south and Flemish (a form of Dutch, and hence Germanic) to the north of the line.

0 10 20 30 40 50 miles

Spanish (Belgian) Netherlands

United Provinces, Independent, 1572, 1609, 1648

Church Lands

Boundary of Holy Roman Empire

Ijssel Meer

N o r t h S e a

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in e

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Amsterdam

Utrecht The Hague

Ryswick

Bruges

Ghent

Lille

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Brussels

Liège Aix-la-Chapelle

Cologne

Antwerp

Trier

14. The Wars of Catholic Spain: The Netherlands and England

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Chapter 3 The Atlantic World, Commerce, and Wars of Religion, 1560–1648130

England was now clearly emerging as the chief bulwark of Protestantism and of anti-

Spanish feeling in northwestern Europe. In England itself, the popular fears of Spain, the

popular resentment against Catholic plots revolving about Mary Stuart, and

the popular indignation at “foreign” and “outside” meddling in English

matters produced an unprecedented sense of national solidarity. The country

rallied to Protestantism and to Elizabeth, and even the Catholic minority for

the most part disowned the conspiracies against her. The English were now openly and defi -

antly allied with the Protestant Dutch. Not only were they fi ghting together in the Nether-

lands, but both English and Dutch sea raiders also fell upon Spanish shipping, captured the

treasure ships, and even pillaged the mainland coast of northern South America. Elizabeth

was negotiating with Scotland, with German Calvinists, and with French Huguenots. At the

Escorial it was said that the Netherlands could only be rewon by an invasion of England,

that the queen of the heretics must be dethroned, that it was cheaper to launch a gigantic

attack upon England than to pay the cost of protecting Spanish galleons year after year

against the depredations of piratical sea dogs.

Philip II therefore prepared to invade England. The English retorted with vigor. Mary

Stuart, after almost 20 years of imprisonment, was executed in 1587; an aroused Parlia-

ment, more than Elizabeth herself, demanded her life on the eve of foreign attack. Sir

Francis Drake, most spectacular of the sea dogs, sailed into the port of Cádiz and burnt the

very ships assembling there to join the Armada. This was jocosely described as singeing

the beard of the king of Spain.

The great Armada, the armada católica, was ready early in 1588. With crosses on the sails and banners bearing the image of the Holy Virgin, it

went forth as to a new Lepanto against the Turks of the north. It consisted

of 130 ships, weighing 58,000 tons, carrying 30,000 men and 2,400 pieces of artillery—

the most prodigious assemblage of naval power that the world had ever seen. The plan was

for the fl eet to sail to the Netherlands, from which it was to escort the prince of Parma’s

army across the straits to the English coast.

But the Armada never reached the Spanish army. It was met in the English Channel

by some 200 English vessels, which encircled the Spanish fl eet near Calais. The English

craft—lighter, smaller, and faster, though well furnished with guns—harried the lumbering

mass of the Armada, broke up its formations, and attacked its great vessels one by one.

England as bulwark

of Protestantism

The Spanish Armada

The vast size of the Spanish naval armada and the English opposition to it are suggested in this illustration by an unknown artist. Both navies had crosses on the fl ags of their ships, thereby claiming divine support for their cause and indicating the reli- gious and national stakes in this epic confl ict. (Universal History Archive/

Getty Images)

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131

It found no refuge at Calais, and English fi reships drove it out again to sea. Then arose

a great storm, which the English would later call the “Protestant wind.” The storm blew

the broken Armada northward around the tip of Scotland, the Orkneys, the Hebrides, and

northern Ireland—forbidding coasts that the Spaniards had to skirt without charts or pilots

or adequate provisions, and which they strewed with their wreckage and their bones.

The Results of the Struggle

The war for control of the Netherlands went on for several years, even after Philip died in

1598. In the wars with Spain the English had, above all else, assured their national inde-

pendence. They had acquired an intense national spirit, a love of “this other Eden, demi-

paradise,” “this precious stone set in the silver sea,” as Shakespeare wrote; and they had

become more solidly Protestant, almost unanimously set against “popery.” With the ruin

of the Armada, they were more free to take to the sea; we have seen how the English East

India Company was founded in 1600.

In the Netherlands, the battle lines swayed back and forth until 1609,

when the two sides agreed to a Twelve Years’ Truce. By this truce the Neth-

erlands were partitioned. The line of partition ran somewhat farther north

than it had in Parma’s time, for the Spaniards had retaken Antwerp and

other cities in the middle zone. The 7 provinces north of the line, those that had formed

the Union of Utrecht in 1579, were henceforth known as Dutch. The 10 provinces south

of the line were known as the Spanish Netherlands. Protestants in the south either became

Catholics or fl ed to the north, so that the south (the modern Belgium) became solidly

Catholic, while the number of Protestants in the north was increased. Even so, the Dutch

were not a completely Protestant people, for probably as many as a third of them remained

Catholic. Calvinism was the religion of most Dutch burghers and the religion favored by

the state; but in the face of an exceptionally large religious minority the Dutch Netherlands

adopted a policy of toleration.

Partition of the

Netherlands

CHRONOLOGY OF NOTABLE EVENTS, 1492–1648

1492 Christopher Columbus reaches America

1519–1522 Ferdinand Magellan circumnavigates the globe

1519–1533 Spanish conquests of Native American empires in the Americas

1556–1598 Reign of King Philip II in Spain

1562–1598 Religious and civil wars in France

1565 “Manila Galleons” open Spanish trade route between Asia and America

1566 Revolt against Spanish control begins in the Netherlands

1588 Spanish Armada is destroyed off the coast of England and Scotland

1598 King Henry IV issues Edict of Nantes; grants religious rights to French

Protestants

1618–1648 The Thirty Years’ War in Germany

1648 Peace of Westphalia recognizes system of sovereign European states

14. The Wars of Catholic Spain: The Netherlands and England

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Chapter 3 The Atlantic World, Commerce, and Wars of Religion, 1560–1648132

The southern Netherlands were ruined by almost 40 years of war. The Dutch, more-

over, occupied the mouth of the Scheldt River and refused to allow oceangoing vessels to

proceed upstream to Antwerp or to Ghent. The Scheldt remained “closed” for two centu-

ries, and the Flemish cities never recovered their old position. Amsterdam became the com-

mercial and fi nancial center of northern Europe; it retained its commercial supremacy for a

century and its fi nancial supremacy for two centuries. For the Dutch, as for the English,

the weakening of Spanish naval power opened the way to the sea. The Dutch East India

Company was organized in 1602. Both the Dutch and the English began to found overseas

colonies. The English established a colony in Virginia in 1607, the Dutch launched the

colonization of New York in 1612.

As for Spain, while it remained the most formidable military power of

Europe for another half-century, its political and economic decline had

already begun. At the death of Philip II the monarchy was living from hand

to mouth, habitually depending on the next arrival of treasure from the

Indies. The productive forces of the country were weakened by infl ation, taxation, emigra-

tion, and depopulation. At Seville, for example, only 400 looms were in operation in 1621,

where there had been 16,000 a century earlier. Spain suffered from the very circumstances

that made it great. Qualities that developed in the centuries of religious war and in the reli-

ance upon imported gold or silver from America were not those on which a more modern

economy and society could easily be built. The long history of campaigns against infi dels

and heretics had produced an exceptionally large number of minor aristocrats who often

saw their class status as a reason to avoid various forms of mundane work. Their relative

indifference to the newer, expanding institutions of European commercial activity may

have infl uenced the country as a whole. In any case, many of the ablest Spaniards continued

to enter the church, and there were few innovations in Spain’s political and economic life.

The very unity accomplished under Ferdinand and Isabella threatened to dissolve.

After more than a century of the Inquisition people were still afraid of false Christians

and crypto-Muslims. The lingering hostility for the Moriscos thus rose

again after 1600. The Moriscos included some of the best farmers and most

skilled artisans in the country. They lived in almost all parts of Spain and

were in no sense a “foreign” element, since they were simply the descen-

dants of those Spaniards who, in the Muslim period, which had begun 900 years before,

had adopted the Muslim religion and Arabic language and culture. They had later con-

verted to Christianity, but the true and pure Christians accused them of hiding their anti-

Christian beliefs, of preserving in secret the rites of Islam, and of sympathizing with the

North African Barbary pirates. They were thought to be clannish, marrying among them-

selves; and they were so effi cient, sober, and hardworking that they outdistanced other

Spaniards in competition. In 1609 some 150,000 Moriscos were driven out of Valencia; in

1610 some 64,000 were driven from Aragon; and in 1611 there were also mass expulsions

from Castile. About 300,000 people were expelled from the whole of Spain. They were

men, women, and children of every age and social level, but all were simply put on boats

and sent off with what they could carry. A few Moriscos went to other parts of southern

Europe, but most settled in North Africa. Spain, whose total population was rapidly falling

in any case, thus passed through another phase of abrupt religious expulsions in which the

country lost one of its most productive and socially valuable minorities.

Nor could the Christian kingdoms hold peaceably together, despite the centralizing

projects of the main government minister, the Count of Olivares. Coming to power under

King Philip IV in 1621, Olivares sought to curb the independence of the church, increase the

king’s revenues, control the aristocracy, and send the Spanish army into both the Netherlands

The beginnings of

Spanish decline

The Moriscos

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133

and the religious wars in Germany. His policies provoked strong opposition throughout

Spain. In 1640 Portugal, which had been joined to the Spanish crown since 1580 when its

own ruling line had run out, reestablished its independence. That same year Catalonia rose in

an armed rebellion that would continue (with French support) for almost 20 years. Catalonia

was at last reconquered, but it managed to preserve its old privileges and separate identity.

Castile and Catalonia were now almost as disunited, in spirit and in institutions, as in the

days of Isabella and Ferdinand. They suffered, too, during the seventeenth century from a

line of kings whose mental peculiarities reached the point of positive imbecility. Meanwhile,

however, the might of Spain could still be felt in both Germany and France.

15. THE DISINTEGRATION AND RECONSTRUCTION OF FRANCE

Both France and Germany, in the so-called Wars of Religion, fell into an advanced state

of decomposition. France was torn apart by almost 40 years of civil war between 1562 and

1598, while Germany entered a long period of civil troubles that culminated in the Thirty

Years’ War between 1618 and 1648. From this decomposition France recovered in the

seventeenth century, but Germany did not.

Political and Religious Disunity

The Wars of Religion in France, despite the religious savagery shown by partisans of both

sides, were also the sixteenth-century recurrence of a long French political struggle. They

were essentially a new form of the old phenomenon of feudal rebellion against a higher

central authority. “Feudal,” in this postmedieval sense, generally refers not to nobles only,

but to all sorts of groups having rights within the state, and so includes towns and prov-

inces, and even craft guilds and courts of law, in addition to the church and the noble class.

It remained to be seen whether all these elements could be welded into one body politic.

In France the New Monarchy, resuming the work of medieval kings, had imposed a

certain unity on the country. Normally the country acted as a unit in foreign affairs. The

king alone made treaties, and in war his subjects all fought on his side, if

they fought at all. Internally, the royal centralization was largely admin-

istrative; that is, the king and those who worked for him dealt with sub-

ordinate bodies of all kinds, while these subordinate bodies remained in

existence with their own functions and personnel. France by the ideas of the

time was a very large country. It was three times as large as England and more than four

times as populous—roughly 18 million in the sixteenth century. At a time when the trav-

eler could move hardly 30 miles a day, it took three weeks of steady plodding to cross the

kingdom. Local infl uence was therefore very strong. Beneath the platform of royalty there

was almost as little substantial unity in France as in the Holy Roman Empire. When

the empire had 300 “states,” France had some 300 areas with their own legal systems.

Where the empire had free cities, France had bonnes villes, the king’s “good towns,” each with its stubbornly defended corporate rights. Where the empire had middle-sized

states like Bavaria, France had provinces as great as some European kingdoms—Brittany,

Burgundy, Provence, Languedoc—each ruled by the French king, to be sure, but each with

its own identity, autonomy, laws, courts, tariffs, taxes, and parliament or provincial estates.

To all this diversity, in France as in Germany, was now added diversity of religion. Calvin

himself was by birth and upbringing a Frenchman; and Calvinism spread very rapidly in

France during the 1550s.

Centralization vs.

localism

15. The Disintegration and Reconstruction of France

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Chapter 3 The Atlantic World, Commerce, and Wars of Religion, 1560–1648134

Nor was France much attached to a papal or international Catholicism. The French

clergy had long struggled for its national or Gallican liberties; the French kings had dealt

rudely with popes, ignored the Council of Trent, and allied for political reasons with both

the Lutherans and the Turks. Since 1516 the king of France had the right to nominate the

French bishops. The fact that both the French monarchy and clergy already felt indepen-

dent of Rome held them back from the revolutionary solutions of Protestantism. The Prot-

estantism that did spread in France therefore developed without government support and

embraced the most radical theological wing of the Reformation, namely Calvinism, which

preached at kings, attacked bishops, smashed religious images, and desecrated Catholic

churches. Within the main countries that became Protestant—England, north Germany,

even the Netherlands—this extreme Protestantism was the doctrine of a minority. In France

there was no middle-of-the-road Protestantism, no broad and comfortable Anglicanism, no

halfway Lutheranism inspired by governments; and in the long run, as will be seen, the

middle of the road was occupied by Catholics.

At fi rst, however, the Huguenots, as the French Calvinists were called,

though always a minority, were neither a small group nor modest in their

demands. In a class analysis, it is clear that it was chiefl y the nobility that

was attracted to Protestantism, though of course it does not follow that most French Protes-

tants were nobles, since the nobility was a small class. More than a third, and possibly

almost a half, of the French nobility was Protestant in the 1560s or 1570s. Frequently the

seigneur, or lord of one or more manors, believed that he should have the right to regulate

religion on his own estates, as the princes of Germany decided the religion of their own ter-

ritories. It thus happened that a lord might defy the local bishop, put a Calvinist minister in

his village church, throw out the images, simplify the sacraments, and have the service con-

ducted in French. In this way peasants also became Huguenots. Occasionally peasants

turned Huguenot without encouragement by the lord. It was chiefl y in southwestern France

that Protestantism spread as a general movement affecting whole areas. But in all parts of

the country, north as well as south, many towns converted to Protestantism. Usually this

meant that the bourgeois oligarchy, into whose hands town government had generally fallen,

went over to Calvinism and thereupon banned Catholic services. The journeymen wage

earners might follow along; or estranged by class differences arising from within the local

economy, they might remain attached to their old priests. In general, the unskilled laboring

population probably remained the least touched of all classes by Calvinist doctrine.

Both Francis I and Henry II opposed the spread of Calvinism—as did

Lutheran and Anglican rulers—for Calvinism, a kind of grassroots move-

ment in religion, rising spontaneously among laity and reforming ministers,

seemed to threaten not only the powers of monarchy but also the very idea of

a nationally established church. The fact that in France the nobility, a traditionally ungov-

ernable class, fi gured prominently in the movement only made it look more like political or

feudal rebellion. Persecution of Huguenots, with burnings at the stake, began in the 1550s.

Then in 1559 King Henry II was accidentally killed in a tournament. He left three sons,

of whom the eldest in 1559 was only 15. Their mother, Henry’s widow, was Catherine de’

Medici, an Italian woman who brought to France some of the polish of Renaissance Italy,

along with some of its taste for political intrigue, with which she attempted to govern the coun-

try for her royal sons. (Their names were Francis II, who died in 1560, Charles IX, who died in

1574, and Henry III, who lasted until 1589.) With no fi rm hand in control of the monarchy, the

country fell apart; and in the ensuing chaos both Catholic and Huguenot factions tried to get

control of the youthful monarchs for their own purposes. The Huguenots, under persecution,

The Huguenots

Opposition to

Calvinism

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135

were too strong a minority to go into hiding. Counting among their number a third or more of

the professional warrior class, the nobles, they took naturally and aggressively to arms.

The Civil and Religious Wars

The civil wars in sixteenth-century France were not wars in which one region of a country

takes up arms against another, each retaining some apparatus of government, as in the

American Civil War or the civil wars of the seventeenth century in England. They were

civil wars of the kind fought in the absence of government. Roving bands of armed men,

without territorial base or regular means of subsistence, wandered about the country, fi ght-

ing and plundering, and joining or separating from other similar bands that were quickly

formed or quickly dissolved. The changing economic and social conditions of the era

detached many people from their old routines and threw them into a life of adventure. The

more prominent leaders could thus easily obtain followers, and at the coming of such

cohorts the peasants usually took to the woods, while bourgeois townspeople would lock

the gates of their cities. Peasants would form protective leagues, like vigilantes; and even

small towns maintained diminutive armies.

The Huguenots were led by various personages of rank, such as Admiral de Coligny

and Henry of Bourbon, king of Navarre, a small independent kingdom at the foot of the

Pyrenees between Spain and France. A pronounced Catholic party arose under the Guise

family, headed by the Duke of Guise and the Cardinal of Lorraine. Catherine de’ Medici

was left in the middle, opposed like all monarchs to Calvinism but unwilling to fall under

the domination of the Guises. While the Guises wished to extirpate heresy, they wished

even more to govern France. Among the Huguenots some fought for local liberties in

religion, while the more ardent spirits hoped to drive “idolatry” and “popery” out of all

France, and indeed out of the world itself. Catherine de’ Medici for a time tried to play

the two parties against each other. But in 1572, fearing the growing infl uence of Coligny

over the king, and taking advantage of a great concourse of infl uential Huguenots in Paris

to celebrate the marriage of Henry of Navarre, she decided to rid herself

of the Huguenot leaders at a single blow. In the resulting massacre of

St. Bartholomew’s Day some thousands of Huguenots were dragged from

their beds after midnight and unceremoniously murdered. Coligny was

killed; Henry of Navarre escaped by temporarily changing his religion.

This outrage only aroused Huguenot fury and led to a renewal of civil war throughout

the country, with mounting atrocities committed by both sides. The armed bands slaugh-

tered each other and terrorized noncombatants. Both parties hired companies of mercenary

soldiers, mainly from Germany. Spanish troops invaded France at the invitation of the

Guises. Protestant towns, such as Rouen and La Rochelle, appealed for armed support

from Elizabeth of England, reminding her that kings of England had once reigned over

their parts of France; but Elizabeth was too preoccupied with her own problems to give

more than very sporadic and insignifi cant assistance. Neither side could subdue the other,

and hence there were numerous truces, during which fi ghting still fl ared up, since no one

had the power to impose peace.

Gradually, mainly among the more perfunctory Catholics, but also

among moderate Protestants, there developed still another group who

thought of themselves as the “politicals” or politiques. The politiques con- cluded that too much was being made of religion, that no doctrine was important enough to

justify everlasting war, that perhaps after all there might be room for two churches, and that

St. Bartholomew’s

Day massacre

The Politiques

15. The Disintegration and Reconstruction of France

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Chapter 3 The Atlantic World, Commerce, and Wars of Religion, 1560–1648136

what the country needed above all else was civil order. Theirs was a secular rather than a

religious view. They believed that people lived primarily in the state, not in the church. They

were willing to overlook the religious ideas of people in different churches if such persons

would simply obey the king and go peaceably about their business. To escape anarchy they

put their hopes in the institution of monarchy. Henry of Navarre, now again a Protestant,

was at heart a politique. Another was the political philosopher Jean Bodin (1530–1596), the fi rst thinker to develop the modern theory of sovereignty. He held that in every society

there must be one power strong enough to give law to all others, with their consent if pos-

sible, without their consent if necessary. Thus from the disorders of the religious wars in

France was germinated the idea of royal absolutism and of the sovereign state.

The End of the Wars: Reconstruction under Henry IV

In 1589 both Henry III, the reigning king, and Henry of Guise, the Catholic party chief

who was trying to depose him, were assassinated by a partisan of the other. The throne

now came by legal inheritance to the third of the three Henrys, Henry of Navarre, the

Huguenot chieftain. He reigned as Henry IV. Most popular and most amiably remembered

of all French kings, except for medieval St. Louis, he was the fi rst of the Bourbon dynasty,

which was to last until the French Revolution.

The civil wars did not end with the accession of Henry IV. The Catholic party refused

to recognize him, set up a pretender against him, and called in the Spaniards. Henry, the

politique, sensed that the majority of the French people were still Catholic and that the

THE ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S DAY MASSACRE by François Dubois (French, 1529–1584)

This massacre of Protestants in Paris in 1572 sparked further atrocities and massacres by both sides in France’s religious wars. As the Huguenot painter François Dubois suggested in this portrayal of the killings, the St. Bartholomew’s Day Massacre also became an enduring symbol of the brutal confl icts that divided the nation throughout the late sixteenth century. (De Agostini/Getty Images)

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137

Huguenots were not only a minority but, after 30 years of civil strife, an increasingly unpop-

ular minority. Paris especially, Catholic throughout the wars, refused to admit the heretic

king within its gates. Supposedly remarking that “Paris is well worth a

Mass,” Henry IV in 1593 abjured the Calvinist faith, and subjected himself

to the elaborate processes of papal absolution. Thereupon the politiques and less excitable Catholics consented to work with him. The Huguenots, at fi rst

elated that their leader should become king, were now not only outraged by Henry’s abjura-

tion but also alarmed for their own safety. They demanded positive guarantees for their

personal security as well as protection of their religious liberty.

Henry IV in 1598 responded by issuing the Edict of Nantes. The Edict

granted to every seigneur, or noble who was also a manorial lord, the right

to hold Protestant services in his own household. It allowed Protestant-

ism in towns where it was in fact the prevailing form of worship, and in any case in one

town of each bailliage (a unit corresponding somewhat to the English shire) throughout the country; but it barred Protestant churches from Catholic episcopal towns and from a

zone surrounding and including the city of Paris. It promised that Protestants should enjoy

the same civil rights as Catholics, the same chance for public offi ce, and access to the

Catholic universities. In certain of the superior law courts it created “mixed chambers” of

both Protestants and Catholics—somewhat as if a stated minority representation were to be

legally required in United States federal courts today. The Edict also gave Protestants their

own means of defense, granting them about 100 fortifi ed towns to be held by Protestant

garrisons under Protestant command.

The Huguenot minority, reassured by the Edict of Nantes, became less of a rebellious

element within the state. The majority of the French people, however, viewed the Edict

with suspicion. The parlements, or supreme law courts, of Paris, Bordeaux, Toulouse, Aix,

and Rennes all refused to recognize it as the law of the land. It was the king who forced

toleration upon the country. He silenced the parlements and subdued Catholic opposition

by doing favors for the Jesuits. France’s chief minority was thus protected by the central

government, not by popular wishes. Where in England the Catholic minority had no rights

at all, and in Germany the religious question was settled only by cutting the country into

small and hostile fragments, in France a compromise was effected, by which the Protestant

minority had both individual and territorial rights. A considerable number of French states-

men, generals, and other important persons in the seventeenth century were Protestants.

Henry IV, having appeased the religious controversy, did everything that he could to

let the country gradually recover from its decades of civil war. His ideal, as he breezily put

it, was a “chicken in the pot” for every Frenchman. He worked also to restore the ruined

government, to collect taxes, pay offi cials, discipline the army, and supervise the adminis-

tration of justice. Roads and bridges were repaired and new manufactures were introduced

under mercantilist principles. Never throughout his reign of 21 years did he summon the

Estates General. A country that had just hacked itself to pieces in civil war was scarcely

able to govern itself, and so, under Henry IV, the foundations of the later royal absolutism

of the Bourbons were laid down.

Henry IV was assassinated in 1610 by a crazed fanatic who believed

him a menace to the Catholic church. Under his widow, Marie de’ Medici,

the nobility and upper Catholic clergy again grew restless and forced

the summoning of the Estates General, in which so many confl icting and

mutually distrustful interests were represented that no program could be adopted. Marie

dismissed them in 1615 to the general relief of all concerned. No Estates General of the

kingdom as a whole thereafter met until the French Revolution. Remembering the violent

Henry IV accepts

Catholicism

The Edict of Nantes

The foundations of

absolutism

15. The Disintegration and Reconstruction of France

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Chapter 3 The Atlantic World, Commerce, and Wars of Religion, 1560–1648138

chaos of the previous century, most people in France, even many nobles, became more

willing to accept a national government that would be conducted by and through the king.

Cardinal Richelieu

In the name of Marie de’ Medici and her young son, Louis XIII, the control of affairs gradu-

ally came into the hands of an ecclesiastic, Cardinal Richelieu. In the preceding generation

Richelieu might have been called a politique. It was the state, not the church, whose inter- ests he worked to further. He tried to strengthen the state economically by mercantilist

edicts. He attempted to draw impoverished gentlemen into trade by allowing them to engage

in maritime commerce without loss of noble status. For wholesale merchants, as an incen-

tive, he made it possible to become nobles, in return for payments into the royal exchequer.

He founded and supported many commercial companies on the Anglo-Dutch model.

For a time, however, it seemed that civil war might break out again.

Nobles still feuded with each other and evaded the royal jurisdiction.

Richelieu prohibited private warfare and ordered the destruction of all forti-

fi ed castles not manned and needed by the king himself. He even prohibited

dueling, a custom much favored by the nobles of the day, but regarded by Richelieu as

a mere remnant of private war. The Huguenots, too, with their own towns and their own

armed forces under the Edict of Nantes, had become something of a state within the state.

In 1627 the Duke of Rohan led a Huguenot rebellion, based in the city of La Rochelle,

which received military support from the English. Richelieu after a year suppressed

the rebellion and in 1629, by the Peace of Alais, amended the Edict of Nantes. For this

highly secularized cardinal of the Catholic church it was agreeable for the Protestants to

keep their religion but not for them to share in the instruments of political power. The

Huguenots lost, in 1629, their fortifi ed cities, their Protestant armies, and all their military

and territorial rights, but in their religious and civil rights they were not offi cially disturbed

for another 50 years.

The French monarchy, having reestablished its centralizing powers and aspirations

after the civil wars, now began to revive the old foreign policy of Francis I, who had

opposed on every front the European supremacy of the house of Habsburg. The Spanish

power still encircled France at the Pyrenees, in the Mediterranean, in the Free County of

Burgundy (the Franche-Comté), and in Belgium. The Austrian branch had pretensions to

supremacy in Germany and all central Europe. Richelieu found his opportunity to assail

the Habsburgs in the civil and religious struggles that now began to affl ict Germany.

16. THE THIRTY YEARS’ WAR, 1618–1648: THE DISINTEGRATION OF GERMANY

The Holy Roman Empire extended from France on the west to Poland and Hungary on the

east. It included the Czechs of Bohemia and sizable French-speaking populations in what

are now Belgium, Lorraine, eastern Burgundy, and western Switzerland; but with these

exceptions the empire consisted of people who spoke various dialects of the German

language (see maps, pp. 79, 144–145). For most people at this time, however, language

was far less important than religion as the uniting or shared identity of a community; and

in religion the empire was almost evenly divided. Where in England, after stabilization set

in, Roman Catholics sank to a minority of some 3 percent, and in France the Huguenots

fell to not much over 5 percent, in Germany there was no true minority, and hence no

Renewed threat of

civil war

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139

majority, and religion gave no foundation for German or imperial unity. Possibly there

were more Protestants than Catholics in the empire in 1600, for not only was Protestantism

the state religion in many of the 300 states, but individual Protestants were also numerous

in the legally Catholic states of the Austrian Habsburgs. Bohemia had a Protestant major-

ity, rooted in the Czech people. Farther east, outside the Holy Roman Empire, the Hungar-

ian nobles were mainly Protestant, and Transylvania, in the elbow of the Carpathian

Mountains, was an active center of Calvinism.

In 1500 Germany had led in many aspects of European life, but by

1600 it had lost much of its former cultural creativity and leadership. Where

both Catholics and Calvinists recognized international affi liations, Luther-

ans were suspicious of the world outside the Lutheran states of Germany and Scandinavia,

and hence suffered from a cultural isolation. The German universities, both Lutheran and

Catholic, attracted fewer students than formerly, and their intellectual effort was consumed

in combative dogmatics, each side demonstrating the truth of its own ideas. Many of the

most deadly, large-scale campaigns against witchcraft took place in the small German

states, and more women were burned as witches in Germany than in other countries in

western Europe. The commerce of south Germany and the Rhineland was in decay, both

because of the shift of trade to the Atlantic and because the Dutch controlled the mouth

of the Rhine in their own interests. German bankers, such as the Fuggers, were of slight

importance after 1600. Capital was now being formed in the centers of maritime trade.

Background of the Thirty Years’ War

The Peace of Augsburg in 1555 had provided that in each state the government could pre-

scribe the religion of its subjects. In general, over the following decades, the Lutherans made

considerable gains, putting Lutheran administrators into the church states, or “secularizing”

them and converting them into lay principalities. In addition, Calvinism

spread into Germany. Though Calvinists had no rights under the Peace of

Augsburg, a number of states became Calvinist. One of these was the Palati-

nate, important because it was strategically placed across the middle Rhine, and because

its ruler, the Elector Palatine, was one of the seven persons who elected the Holy Roman

Emperor. In 1608 the Protestant states, urged on by the Elector Palatine, formed a Protestant

union to defend their gains. To obtain support, they negotiated with the Dutch, with the

English, and with Henry IV of France. In 1609 a league of Catholic German states was orga-

nized by Bavaria. It looked for help from Spain.

The Germans were thus falling apart, or rather coming together, into two parties in

anticipation of religious confl icts, and each party solicited foreign assistance against the

other. Other issues were also maturing. The Twelve Years’ Truce between Spain and the

Dutch, signed in 1609, was due to expire in 1621. The Spanish (whose international military

power was still unaffected by internal decline) were again preparing to crush the Dutch

Republic. Since the Dutch insisted on independence, a renewal of the Dutch-Spanish war

appeared to be inevitable. The Spanish also wished to consolidate the Habsburg position

in central Europe and enhance their access to the Netherlands by gaining control of new

territories along the Rhine River and in various Swiss cantons (see map, pp. 144–145).

These Spanish designs in the Rhineland and Switzerland naturally aroused the opposi-

tion of France. Moreover, the Austrian branch of the Habsburg family was slowly bestir-

ring itself to eradicate Protestantism in its own domains and to turn the Holy Roman

Empire into a more modern type of state. The idea of a strong power in Germany was

German decline

Lutheran gains

16. The Thirty Years’ War, 1618–1648: The Disintegration of Germany

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Chapter 3 The Atlantic World, Commerce, and Wars of Religion, 1560–1648140

abhorrent to the French. Through opposition to the Habsburgs, France was again put in the

position of chief protector of Protestantism. France was a giant of Europe, over four times

as populous as England, over 10 times as populous as Sweden or the Dutch Republic,

incomparably more populous than any single German state. And France after 1600 was at

last relatively unifi ed within.

The Thirty Years’ War, resulting from all these pressures, was therefore

exceedingly complex. It was a German civil war fought over the Catholic-

Protestant issue. It was also a German civil war fought over constitutional

issues, between the emperor striving to build up the central power of the

empire and the member states struggling to maintain independence. These two civil wars

by no means coincided, for Catholic and Protestant states were alike in objecting to impe-

rial control. It was also an international war, between France and the Habsburgs, between

Spain and the Dutch, with the kings of Denmark and Sweden and the prince of Transyl-

vania becoming involved, and with all these outsiders fi nding allies within Germany, on

whose soil most of the battles were fought. The wars were further complicated by the fact

that many of the generals were soldiers of fortune who aspired to create principalities of

their own and who fought or refused to fi ght whenever it suited their own convenience.

The Four Phases of the War

The fi ghting began in Bohemia. It is in fact customary to divide the war

into four phases, the Bohemian (1618–1625), the Danish (1625–1629), the

Swedish (1630–1635), and the Swedish-French (1635–1648).

In 1618 the Bohemians, or Czechs, fearing the loss of their Protestant liberties, dealt

with two emissaries from the Habsburg Holy Roman Emperor, Matthias (who was also

their king), by a method occasionally used in that country—throwing them out of the

window. After this “defenestration of Prague” the king-emperor sent troops to restore his

authority, whereupon the Bohemians deposed him and elected a new king. In order to

obtain Protestant assistance, they chose the Calvinist Elector Palatine, the head of the Prot-

estant Union, who assumed the title of Frederick V. He brought aid to the Bohemians from

the Protestant Union, the Dutch, and the Protestant prince of Transylvania (who was at this

time supported by the Ottoman Empire). The Emperor Ferdinand, Matthias’s successor,

assisted by money from the pope, by Spanish troops sent from Milan, and by the forces of

Catholic Bavaria, managed to overwhelm the Bohemians at the battle of the White Moun-

tain in 1620. Frederick fl ed, jeered or pitied as the “winter king.” His ancestral domains in

the Palatinate were overrun by the Spaniards.

The Habsburgs now set out to reconquer and revolutionize Bohemia. The Emperor

Ferdinand got himself elected as king of Bohemia and soon confi scated the estates of

almost half the Bohemian nobles. He granted these lands as endowments for Catholic

churches and monasteries or as gifts to adventurers of all nationalities who had entered his

service and who became the new landed aristocracy of Bohemia.

With Protestant fortunes at a low ebb, and the Protestant Union itself dissolved in

1621, the lead in Protestant affairs was now taken by the king of Denmark, who was also

Duke of Holstein, a state of the Holy Roman Empire. With a little aid from the Dutch and

English, and with promises from Richelieu, he entered the fray. Against him the Emperor

Ferdinand raised another army, or, rather, commissioned Albert of Wallenstein to raise

one on his own private initiative. Wallenstein assembled a force of professional fi ghters,

of all nationalities, who lived by pillage rather than by pay. His army was his personal

The complexity of the

Thirty Years’ War

The Bohemian war

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141

instrument, not the emperor’s, and he therefore followed a policy of his own, which was so

tortuous and well concealed that the name of Wallenstein has always remained an enigma.

Wallenstein and other imperial generals soon defeated the king of Denmark, reached the

Baltic coast, and even invaded the Danish peninsula.

The full tide of the Counter Reformation now fl owed over Germany. Not only was

Catholicism again seeping into the Palatinate, and again fl ooding Bohemia, but it also

rolled northward into the inner recesses of the Lutheran states. By the Edict of Restitution,

in 1629, the emperor declared all church territories secularized since 1552 automatically

restored to the Catholic church. Some of these territories had been Protestant since the old-

est person could remember. Terror swept over Protestant Germany. It seemed that the

whole Protestant Reformation, now a century old, might be undone.

The Habsburg-Catholic advance raised alarms across northern Europe,

especially in France and Sweden. Richelieu, however, was still putting

down fractious nobles and Huguenots. He had not yet consolidated France to

his satisfaction and believed that France, without fi ghting itself, could coun-

ter the Habsburg ambitions through the use of allies. He sent diplomats to help extricate the

king of Sweden from a war with Poland, and he promised him fi nancial assistance, which

soon rose to a million livres a year in return for the maintenance in Germany of 40,000

Swedish troops. The Dutch subsidized the Swedes with some 50,000 fl orins a month.

The king of Sweden was Gustavus Adolphus, a ruler of superlative

ability, who had conciliated all parties in Sweden and had extended Swed-

ish holdings on the east shore of the Baltic. Using Dutch and other military

experts, he had created the most modern army of the time, noted for its fi rm

French and Swedish

alarm

Gustavus Adolphus

The violence of the Thirty Years’ War in Germany, depicted here in a vivid illustration by Jacques Callot entitled simply The Hanging Tree (1633), produced terror, bitter memories, and political divisions in central Europe that lasted long after the fi ghting fi nally ended in 1648. (Erich Lessing/Art Resource, NY)

16. The Thirty Years’ War, 1618–1648: The Disintegration of Germany

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Chapter 3 The Atlantic World, Commerce, and Wars of Religion, 1560–1648142

discipline, high courage, and mobile cannon. Himself a religious man, he had his troops

march to battle singing Lutheran hymns. He was ideally suited to be the Protestant cham-

pion, a role he now willingly took up, landing in Germany in 1630. Richelieu, besides

giving fi nancial help, negotiated with the Catholic states of Germany, playing on their

fears of imperial centralization and seeking to isolate the emperor, against whom the well-

disciplined Swedish army was now hurled.

The Swedes, with military aid from Saxony, won a number of spectacular victories, at

Breitenfeld in 1631 and Lützen in 1632, where, however, Gustavus Adolphus was killed.

His chancellor, Oxenstierna, carried on. The Swedish army penetrated into Bohemia and as

far south as the Danube. But the brilliant Swedish victories came to little. Both sides were

weakened by disagreement. Wallenstein, who disliked the Spanish infl uence in Germany,

virtually ceased to fi ght the Swedes and Saxons, with whom he even entered into private

talks hoping to create an independent position for himself. He was fi nally disgraced by the

emperor and assassinated by one of his own staff. On the Swedish-Saxon side, the Saxons

decided to make a separate peace. Saxony therefore signed with the emperor the Peace of

Prague of 1635. The other German Protestant states concurred in it and withdrew their sup-

port from the Swedes. The emperor, by largely annulling the Edict of Restitution, allayed

Protestant apprehensions. The Swedes were left isolated in Germany. It seemed that the

German states were coming together, that the religious wars might be nearing an end. But,

in fact, in 1635, the Thirty Years’ War was still evolving into a protracted fi nal phase.

Neither France nor Spain wished peace or reconciliation in Germany.

Richelieu renewed his assurances to the Swedes, paid subsidies even to the wealthy

Dutch, hired a German princeling, Bernard of Saxe-Weimar, to maintain an army of

Germans in the French service, and at last brought Catholic France into open support of the

German Protestants.

So the French fi nally moved toward the Rhine, though not at fi rst with

the success for which the French or Protestants had hoped. The Spanish,

from their bases in Belgium and Franche-Comté, drove instead deep into

France. Champagne and Burgundy were ravaged, and Paris itself was seized with panic.

The Spanish also raided the south. The French had a taste of the plunder, murder, burnings,

and stealing of cattle by which Germany had been affl icted. But the French soon turned the

tables. When Portugal and Catalonia rebelled against Philip IV in 1640, France immedi-

ately recognized the independence of Portugal under the new royal house of Braganza—

as did England, Holland, and Sweden with equal alacrity. French troops streamed over

the Pyrenees into Catalonia, spreading the usual devastation. Richelieu even recognized a

Catalan republic.

In Germany the last or Swedish-French phase of the war was not so much a civil

war among Germans as an international struggle on German soil. Few German states now

sided with the French and Swedes. A feeling of national resentment against foreign inva-

sion even seemed to develop.

The Peace of Westphalia, 1648

Peace talks began in 1644 in Westphalia, at the two towns of Münster and Osnabrück. The

German states were crying for peace, for a fi nal religious settlement, and for “reform” of

the Holy Roman Empire. France and Sweden insisted that the German states should indi-

vidually take part in the negotiations, a disintegrating principle that the German princes

eagerly welcomed and which the emperor vainly resisted. To Westphalia, therefore,

European involvement

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143

hundreds of diplomats and negotiators now repaired, representing the empire, its member

states, Spain, France, Sweden, the Dutch, the Swiss, the Portuguese, the Venetians,

numerous other Italians, and the pope. There had been no such European congress since

the Council of Constance, and the fact that a European assemblage had in 1415 dealt with

affairs of the church, and now in the 1640s dealt with affairs of the state, war, and power,

was a measure of the secularization that had come over Europe.

The negotiations dragged on, because the armies were still fi ghting,

and after each battle one side or the other raised its terms. France and Spain

refused to make peace with each other at all and in fact remained at war

until 1659. But for the Holy Roman Empire a settlement was reached in

1648 in the two treaties of Münster and Osnabrück, which became commonly known as

the Peace of Westphalia.

The Peace of Westphalia represented a general checkmate to the Catholic Counter

Reformation in Germany. It not only renewed the terms of the Peace of Augsburg, grant-

ing each German state the right to determine its own religion, but it also added Calvinism

to Lutheranism and Catholicism as an acceptable faith. On the controversial issue of

church territories secularized after 1552 the Protestants won a complete victory; Catholic

claims to the territories were abandoned.

The dissolution of the Holy Roman Empire, which had been advanced

by the drawing of internal religious frontiers in the days of Luther, was now

confi rmed in politics and international law. Borderlands of the empire fell

away. The Dutch and Swiss ceased to belong to it, and both the United

Provinces and Swiss cantons (or Helvetic Body) were recognized as sovereign and inde-

pendent. From the disintegrating western frontier of the Holy Roman Empire the French

cut off small pieces, receiving sovereignty over three Lorraine bishoprics, which they had

occupied for a century, and certain rights in Alsace that were so confused that they later led

to trouble. The king of Sweden received new territories in northern Germany, thus adding

to Sweden’s trans-Baltic possessions.

It was in the new constitution of the empire itself, not in territorial

changes, that the greatest victory of the French and their Swedish and

Dutch allies was to be found. The German states, over 300 in number,

became virtually sovereign. Each received the right to conduct diplomacy and make trea-

ties with foreign powers. The Peace of Westphalia further stipulated that no laws could be

made by the empire, no taxes could be raised, no soldiers could be recruited, no war could

be declared or peace terms ratifi ed except with the consent of the imperial estates—the

300-odd princes, ecclesiastics, and free cities in the Reichstag assembled. Since it was

well known that agreement on any such matters was impossible, the principle of self-

government, or of medieval constitutional liberties, was used to destroy the empire itself

as an effective political entity. While most other European countries were consolidating

under royal absolutism, Germany sank back toward fragmentation and localism.

The Peace of Westphalia blocked the Counter Reformation, frustrated the Austrian

Habsburgs, and forestalled for almost two centuries any movement toward German national

unifi cation. Within Europe as a whole, however, it marked the advent in international law

of the modern system of sovereign states. The diplomats who assembled

at Westphalia represented independent powers that recognized no superior

or common tie. No one any longer pretended that Europe had any signifi -

cant religious or political unity. Statesmen delighted in the absence of any

such unity, in which they sensed the menace of “universal monarchy.”

Lengthy peace

negotiations

Dissolution of the

Holy Roman Empire

Germany fragmented

System of sovereign

states

16. The Thirty Years’ War, 1618–1648: The Disintegration of Germany

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Chapter 3 The Atlantic World, Commerce, and Wars of Religion, 1560–1648144

Austrian Habsburgs

Spanish Habsburgs

Swedish Dominions

Brandenburg-Prussia

Church Lands

Ottoman Empire controlled lands

Boundary of the Holy Roman Empire

0 100 200 300 miles

A d r i a t i c S e a

A T L A N T I C O C E A N

N o r t h S e a

B a l t i

c

S e a

E N G L I S H C H A N N E L

M e d i t e r r a n

e a

n

S e

a

Vist u la R.

C A T A

L O N I

A

NAVARRE

A R A

G O

N

P O R T U G A L ( T O S P A I N

1 5 8 0 – 1 6 4 0 )

C A S T I L E

ALGERIA TUNISIA

SA V

O Y

CORSICA (Genoa)

SARDINIA

SICILY

MALTA (Knights of St. John)

IONIAN I. (Venice)

NAPLES

PAPAL STATES

A LB

A N

IA

MONT

BOSNIA

MORAVIA BOHEMIA

SILESIA

A U

ST RI

A

BRAN DENB

URG

SAXONY

BAVARIA

SWISS CANTONS FR

AN CH

E-

CO M

SPANISH NETH.

PALATINATE

DENMARK

KINGDOM OF THE TWO SICILIES

TUSCANY

P IE

D M

O N

T

GREAT POLAND

PO M

ER A

LI ABR

A ND EN

BU RG-

PRUS SIA

(TO SWEDEN, 1658)

SCHLESWIG

HOLSTEIN

HANOVER

MINOR

GERMAN STATES LO

RR A

IN E

A LS

A CE

KI N

G D

O M

O F

H U

N GA

RY

SLAVONIA

SER

SWEDISH POMERANIA

REPU BLIC

O F

VENICE

MINORCA

MAJORCA

C

DUC OF

PRUS

LITTLE POLAND

P Y R E N E E S

B A L E

A R I C I

.

S W E D E N

NORWAY

SCOTLAND

IRELAND

B A R B A R Y S T A T E S

FEZ AND MOROCCO

KINGDOM OF DENMARK AND NORWAY

ENGLAND

(COMMONWEALTH 1649–1660 UNITED KINGDOM 1707)

F R A N C E

S P A I N

H U N G A

SHETLAND I.

ORKNEY I.

UNITED PROVINCES

Dublin

Edinburgh

Liverpool

London

Rennes Paris

Rouen

Orléans

Bordeaux

Montauban

Avignon

Marseille

Barcelona

La Coruña

Valladolid

Escorial

Oporto

Lisbon Toledo

Madrid

Seville MalagaCadiz

Valencia

Oran (Spain)

Algiers

Tunis

Rome

Naples

Florence

Venice

Parma Milan

Belgrade

Murcia

Ceuta(Spain) Tangier

Bari

Aquila

Bristol Ryswick Amsterdam

Utrecht

Bremen

Verden Osnabrück

Lübeck Stralsund

Stettin

Leipzig

Dresden

Belfast

Zara

Nantes

Lyon

Saragossa

Mérida

León

Helsi

Stockholm

Danzig

Palermo

Genoa

Strasbourg

Vienna Budap

Augsburg

Brussels

Cologne Breslau

CracoPrague ManzTrier

Metz

Münster

Hamburg

Berlin Magdeburg

Copenhagen

Warsaw

Bergen

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145

EUROPE, 1648 This map shows the European states at the time of the Peace of Westphalia. A plurality of inde- pendent sovereign states was henceforth consid- ered normal. The plurality of religions was also henceforth taken for granted within Europe as a whole, though each state continued to require or favor religious uniformity within its borders. By weakening the Habsburgs and furthering the dis- integration of Germany, the Peace of Westphalia opened the way for a (short-term) seventeenth- century expansion of the Ottoman Empire in southeastern Europe and the later political ascen- dancy of France.

16. The Thirty Years’ War, 1618–1648: The Disintegration of Germany

Aegean Sea

B l a c k S e a

L I T H U A N I A

GREECE

CRETE (Venice)

RHODES (Turkish)

CYPRUS (Venice)

O T

T O

M A

N

E M

P I R E

CRIMEA

TENEGRO

WALLACHIA

TRANSYLVANIA BESSARABIA

DOBRUJA

RBIA

BULGARIA

MELLIA

FINLAND

ESTONIA

LIVONIA

COURLAND

HY F SIA

YEDISAN

GALICIA PODOLIA

MOLDAVIA

INGRIA

C A R

P A

T H

I A N

S

R U S S I A

P O L A N D

R Y

ngfors

Riga

Minsk

Salonica

Constantinople

Smyrna

est

ow Lemberg

Bucharest

Kiev

Moscow

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Chapter 3 The Atlantic World, Commerce, and Wars of Religion, 1560–1648146

Europe was understood to consist of a large number of unconnected sovereignties, free and

detached atoms, or states, which acted according to their own laws, following their own

political interests, forming and dissolving alliances, exchanging embassies and legations,

alternating between war and peace, shifting position with a shifting balance of power.

Physically Germany was wrecked by the Thirty Years’ War. Cities were sacked

by mercenary soldiers with a rapacity that their commanders could not control; or the

commanders themselves, drawing no supplies from their home governments, systematically

looted whole areas to maintain their armies. Magdeburg was besieged ten times; Leipzig,

fi ve. In one woolen town of Bohemia, with a population of 6,000 before the wars, the

citizens fl ed and disappeared, the houses collapsed, and eight years after the peace only

850 persons were found there. The peasants, murdered, put to fl ight, or tortured by soldiers

to reveal their few valuables, ceased to farm; agriculture was ruined; starvation followed,

and with it came pestilence. Even revised modern estimates allow that in many extensive

parts of Germany as much as a third of the population may have perished. The effects of

fi re, disease, undernourishment, homelessness, and exposure in the seventeenth century

were terrible because of the lack of means to combat them. The horrors that civilians have

suffered in modern wars are thus not wholly different from horrors that men and women

experienced in the past.

Germany as such, physically wrecked and politically cut into small pieces, ceased for

a long time to play any signifi cant part in European affairs. A kind of political and cultural

vacuum existed in central Europe. On the one hand, the western or Atlantic peoples—

French, English, Dutch—began in the seventeenth century to take the lead in European

politics, trade, and culture. On the other hand, in eastern Germany, around Berlin and

Vienna, new and only half-German centers of power began to form. These themes will be

traced in the two following chapters.

With the close of the Thirty Years’ War the Wars of Religion came to an end. While

religion remained an issue in some later confl icts and within some countries, it was never

again an important cause of confl icts in the transnational political affairs of Europe as a

whole. In general, by the close of the seventeenth century, the division between Protestant

and Catholic had become stabilized. Neither side any longer expected to make territorial gains

at the expense of the other. Both the Protestant and the Catholic reformations were accom-

plished facts. The political struggle for territory, wealth, and strategic alliances had become

secularized in that “reasons of state” now prevailed over religious allegiances in shaping both

the foreign policies of governments and the military confl icts of sovereign powers.

For suggested further readings and useful Web sites, interactive exercises, glossary, chronologies,

and more, go to the Online Learning Center at www.mhhe.com/palmerhistory11e.

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147

C h a p t e r 4 THE GROWING POWER

OF WESTERN EUROPE,

1640–1715

If the reader   were to take a map of Europe, set a compass on the city of Paris, and draw a circle

with a radius of 500 miles, a zone would be marked

out from which much of modern European and

“Western” civilization radiated after about 1640. It

was within this zone that a secular society, modern

natural science, a developed capitalism, the modern

state, parliamentary government, democratic ideas,

machine industry, and much else either originated

or received their fi rst full expression. The extreme

western parts of Europe—Ireland, Portugal, and

Spain—were somewhat outside the zone in which

the most rapid changes occurred. But within it

were England, southern Scotland, France, the

Low Countries, Switzerland, western and central

Germany, and northern Italy. This area, for over

200 years beginning in the seventeenth century,

was the earth’s principal center of what anthropolo-

gists might call cultural diffusion. Although the economy and culture of western Europe

were deeply infl uenced by the expanding trade and contacts with people outside Europe,

the growing power of western European states, trading companies, science, and cultural

institutions had a profound and spreading impact on the rest of Europe, the Americas, and

ultimately the whole world.

This western European infl uence grew steadily in the half-century following the Peace

of Westphalia. The fading out of the Italian Renaissance, the subsiding of religious wars,

the ruin of the Holy Roman Empire, and the decline of Spain all cleared the stage on which

the Dutch, English, and French were to become the principal political, economic, and

cultural actors. But the Dutch were few in number, and the English during most of the sev-

enteenth century were weakened by domestic discord. It was France that for a time played

the most imposing role. The whole half-century of European history following the Peace

of Westphalia is in fact often called the Age of Louis XIV.

17. The Grand Monarque

and the Balance

of Power

18. The Dutch Republic

19. Britain: The Civil War

20. Britain: The Triumph

of Parliament

21. The France of Louis XIV,

1643–1715: The Triumph

of Absolutism

22. The Wars of Louis XIV:

The Peace of Utrecht,

1713

Chapter emblem: Detail from a portrait of King Louis XIV by Hyacinthe Rigaud (1659–1743).

(Scala/Art Resource, NY)

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Chapter 4 The Growing Power of Western Europe, 1640–1715148

17. THE GRAND MONARQUE AND THE BALANCE OF POWER

This king of France inherited his throne in 1643 at the age of 5, assumed the personal

direction of affairs in 1661 at the age of 23, and reigned for 72 years until his death in

1715. No one else in modern history has held so powerful a position for so long a time.

Louis XIV was more than a fi gurehead. For over half a century, during his whole adult life,

he was the actual and working head of the French government. Inheriting the state institu-

tions that Richelieu had developed earlier in the seventeenth century, he made France the

strongest country in Europe. Using French money, by bribes or other inducements, he built

up a pro-French interest in virtually every country from England to Turkey. His policies

and the counterpolicies that others adopted against him set the pace of public events, and

his methods of government and administration, war and diplomacy, became a model for

other rulers to copy. During this time the French language, French thought and literature,

French architecture and landscape gardens, and French styles in clothes, cooking, and eti-

quette became the accepted standard for Europe. Louis XIV was called by his fascinated

admirers Louis the Great, the Grand Monarque, and the Sun King. Internationally, the consuming political question of the last decades of the seventeenth

century (at least in western Europe—eastern Europe we reserve for the next chapter) was

the fate of the still vast possessions of the Spanish crown. Spain was drifting

into a condition that nineteenth-century Europeans would later ascribe to

Turkey, “the sick man of Europe.” To its social and economic decline was

added hereditary physical deterioration of its rulers. In 1665 the Spanish

throne was inherited by Charles II, an incompetent ruler affl icted by many

ills of mind and body, impotent, mentally defi cient, the pitiable product of generations of

intermarriage among various branches of the extended Habsburg family. His rule was

irresolute and feeble. It was known from the moment of his accession that he could have no

children and that the Spanish branch of the Habsburg family would die out with his death.

The whole future not only of Spain but also of the Spanish Netherlands, the Spanish hold-

ings in Italy, and all Spanish America was therefore in question. Charles II dragged out his

miserable days until 1700, the object of jealousy and outright assault during his lifetime,

and precipitating a new European war by his death.

Louis XIV, who in his youth married a sister of Charles II, intended

to benefi t from the debility of his royal brother-in-law. His expansion-

ist policies followed two main lines. One was to push the French borders

eastward to the Rhine, annexing the Spanish Netherlands (or Belgium)

and the Franche-Comté or Free County of Burgundy, a French-speaking

region lying between ducal Burgundy and Switzerland (see maps, pp. 144–145, 149). Such

policies along France’s eastern frontier involved the further dismemberment of the Holy

Roman Empire. The other line of Louis XIV’s ambitions, increasingly clear as time went

on, was his hope of obtaining the entire Spanish inheritance for himself. By combining the

resources of France and Spain he would make France supreme in Europe, in America, and

on the sea. To promote these ends Louis XIV intrigued with the smaller and middle-sized

powers of Europe and also contacted dissidents (i.e., potential allies) in all the countries

whose governments opposed him.

If Louis XIV had achieved his aims, he would have created the “universal monar-

chy” dreaded by diplomats, that is to say, a political situation in which one state might

subordinate all others to its will. The technique used against universal monarchy was the

The weakness of

Spain

The ambitions of

Louis XIV

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14917. The Grand Monarque and the Balance of Power

THE EXPANSION OF FRANCE, 1661–1713 The map shows how the for- eign policy and wars of King Louis XIV gradually extended France’s borders toward the east and northeast, bringing the Franche-Comté and new lands in both Alsace and Lorraine under French control. Louis also gained other territories in the Spanish Netherlands and expanded French holdings in the south along the frontier with Savoy. In addition to the expan- sion shown here, Louis XIV’s other great ambition was to obtain control of Spain and the Spanish Empire in the Americas.

French Boundary in 1661

Boundary of the Greatest Gains of Louis XIV

France in 1713

0 100 miles50

Rh on

e R

.

Sein e R

.

R h

in e R.

North Sea

M e d i t e r r a n e a n S e a

SPA NISH NETH ER L A N D S

FRANCHE- COMTÉ

ALSACE

LO RR

AI NE

BADEN

SAVOY THE

MILANESE

UNITED PROVINCES

SWISS CONFEDERATION

HOLY ROMAN EMPIRE

Paris

Strasbourg

Metz

Geneva

Dijon

Verdun

Antwerp Cologne

balance of power. Universal monarchy had formerly been almost achieved in Europe by

the Austro-Spanish Habsburgs. The Habsburg supremacy had been blocked mainly by

a balance of power headed by France, of which the Thirty Years’ War and the Peace of

Westphalia were the outstanding triumphs. Now, in the seventeenth century, the danger of

universal monarchy came from France, and it was against France that the balance of power

was directed.

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Chapter 4 The Growing Power of Western Europe, 1640–1715150

The Idea of the Balance of Power

The aim of statesmen pursuing policies of balance of power in the seven-

teenth and eighteenth centuries was generally to preserve their own inde-

pendence of action to the utmost. Hence the basic rule was to ally against

any powerful state threatening domination. If one state seemed to dictate too much, others

would shun alliance with it unless they were willing (from ideological sympathy or other

reasons) to become its puppets. They would seek alliance with the other weaker states

instead. They would thus create a balance or counterweight, or “restore the balance,”

against the state whose ascendancy they feared. Another more subtle reason for preferring

alliance with the weak rather than with the strong was that in such an alliance the leaders

of each state could believe their own contribution to be necessary and valued, and by

threatening to withdraw their support could win consideration of their own policies.

Indeed, the balance of power may be defi ned as a system in which each state tends to throw

its weight where it is most needed, so that its own importance may be

enhanced.

The purpose of balance-of-power politics was not to preserve peace

but to preserve the sovereignty and independence of the states of Europe,

or the “liberties of Europe,” as they were called, against potential aggres-

sors. The system was effective as a means to protect most sovereign governments in the

seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. Combinations were intricate, and alliances were

readily made and unmade to deal with emerging situations. One reason for the effective-

ness of the system lay in the great number of states capable of pursuing an independent

foreign policy. These included not only the greater and middle-sized states of Austria,

Spain, France, England, Holland, Sweden, and Bavaria, but a great number of small inde-

pendent states, such as Denmark, the German principalities, Portugal after 1640, and

Savoy, Venice, Genoa, and Tuscany. States moved easily from one alliance to another

or from one side of the balance to another. They were held back by no ideologies or

historic sympathies, especially after the religious wars subsided, but could freely choose or

reject allies, aiming only to protect their own independence or enlarge their own interests.

Moreover, owing to the military technology of the day, small states might count as impor-

tant military partners in an alliance. By controlling a strategic location, like the king of

Denmark, or by making a contribution of ships or money, like the Dutch Republic, they

might add just enough strength to an alliance to balance and overbalance the opposing

great power and its allies.

As the ambitions of Louis XIV became bolder, and as the capacity of Spain to resist

them withered away, the prevention of a French universal monarchy depended increas-

ingly on combining the states of Europe into a balance of power that could effectively

block France’s expansionist policies. The balance against Louis XIV was engineered

mainly by the Dutch. The most tireless of his enemies, and the one who did more than any

other to checkmate him, was the Dutchman William III, the prince of Orange, who in his

later years was king of England and Scotland as well.

Let us, after fi rst surveying the Dutch in the seventeenth century, turn to the British

Isles, where a momentous confl ict occurred between Parliament and king. We shall then

examine the French absolute monarchy under Louis XIV and conclude the present chap-

ter with the wars of Louis XIV, particularly the War of the Spanish Succession, in which

the collective resistance to French ambitions ultimately restored the European balance

of power.

Motives for alliances

Balance-of-power

politics

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15118. The Dutch Republic

18. THE DUTCH REPUBLIC

Dutch Culture and Government

The ambassadors of kings, strolling beside a canal at The Hague, might on occasion observe

a number of burghers in plain black garments step out of a boat and proceed to make a meal

of cheese and herring on the lawn, and they would recognize in these portly fi gures the

provincial delegates of the Estates General of the United Provinces, as the Dutch govern-

ment was known in the diplomatic language of the day. Though noblemen lived in the

country, the Dutch were the most bourgeois of all peoples. They were not the only republi-

cans in Europe, because the Swiss cantons, Venice, Genoa, and even England for a few

years were republics, but of all republics the United Provinces was by far the most wealthy,

the most fl ourishing, and the most important in international diplomacy and culture.

The Dutch acquired a nationality of their own in the long struggle against Spain, and

the memories of that war contributed to a pride in their own freedom and independence.

In the later phases of the war with Spain, notably during the Thirty Years’ War, they were

able to rely more on their wealth and diplomacy than on actual fi ghting, so that during the

whole seventeenth century they enjoyed a degree of comfort, and of intel-

lectual, artistic, and commercial achievement unexcelled in Europe. The

classic Dutch poets and dramatists wrote at this time, making a literary lan-

guage of what had formerly been a dialect of Low German. Hugo Grotius

produced, in his Law of War and Peace, a pioneering treatise on international law. Baruch Spinoza, of a family of refugee Portuguese Jews, quietly turned out works of philosophy,

examining the nature of reality, of human conduct, and of church and state. Spinoza made

his living by grinding lenses; there were many other lens grinders in Holland; some of them

developed the microscope, and some of these, in turn—Leeuwenhoek, Swammerdam, and

others—peering through their microscopes and beholding for the fi rst time the world of

microscopic life, became founders of modern biological science. The greatest Dutch scien-

tist was Christian Huyghens (1629–1695), who worked mainly in physics and mathemat-

ics; he improved the telescope (a Dutch invention), made clocks move with pendulums,

discovered the rings of Saturn, and launched the wave theory of light. A less famous writer,

Balthasar Bekker, in his World Bewitched (1691) delivered a decisive blow against the expiring superstition of witchcraft. Meanwhile, the extraordinarily learned scholar and art-

ist Anna Maria van Schurman (1607–1678) developed an important seventeenth-century

argument for the education of women in her infl uential treatise The Learned Maid or Whether a Maid May Be Called a Scholar (1638).

But the most eternally fresh of the Dutch creations, suffering from no barrier of time

or language, were the superb canvases of the painters. Frans Hals produced bluff portraits

of the common people. Jan Vermeer threw a spell of magic and quiet dignity over men, and

especially women, of the burgher class, many of whom he portrayed in typical domestic

scenes. Rembrandt conveyed the mystery of human consciousness itself. In Rembrandt’s

Masters of the Cloth Guild (see p. 152) we face a group of six men who seem about to speak from the canvas, inclined slightly forward, as intent on their business as judges on the pro-

ceedings in a courtroom. Such men conducted the affairs of Holland, in both commerce and

government; intelligent, calculating, and honest but determined to drive a hard bargain; the

sober black cloaks, with the clean white collars, set against the carved woodwork and rich

table covering of the Cloth Hall, seem to suggest that personal vanity must yield to collec-

tive undertakings and that personal simplicity must be maintained in the midst of material

Dutch achievements

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Chapter 4 The Growing Power of Western Europe, 1640–1715152

opulence. And in Vermeer’s Geographer (see p. 156), painted in 1669, there appears not only an immaculately scrubbed and dusted Dutch interior, but something of a symbol of the

modern world in its youth—the pale northern sunlight streaming through the window, the

globe and the map, the dividers in the scholar’s right hand, instrument of science and math-

ematics, the tapestry fl ung over the table (or is it a new rug brought from Asia?), the head

lifted in thought, and eyes resting on an invisible world of fresh discoveries and opening

horizons. The same interest in the complexities of human character and the details of house-

hold objects appears in many of Vermeer’s paintings, including G irl Reading a Letter at an Open Window (see p. 154), which he painted in the late 1650s, The Milkmaid (c. 1660), and The Artist’s Studio (c. 1665). Like other Dutch artists in this era, Vermeer discovered and portrayed the aesthetic pleasures in the common experiences of daily life.

Dutch paintings also showed certain characteristics of the wider seventeenth-century

artistic style that came to be known as Baroque. The fascination with lighting, the represen-

tation of interior spaces, the use of distinctive colors or subtle hues, and a more naturalistic

image of human beings often shaped the distinctive appearance of Baroque paintings.

In contrast to most Dutch artists, however, many of the best-known Baroque painters

identifi ed with the Catholic Church or the Counter Reformation. The Flemish painter Peter

Paul Rubens was one prominent example of this identifi cation with Catholicism in the

Low Countries (see his Portrait of the Artist with Isabelle Brant on p. 153). Rubens often

THE MASTERS OF THE CLOTH GUILD by Rembrandt van Rijn (Dutch, 1606–1669)

This painting was done on commission for the guild of “clothiers” in Amsterdam. These men were the prosperous leaders of the guild; and they were members of a dynamic merchant class that supported both a fl ourishing community of creative artists and the expanding Dutch role in global commercial systems. (Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam/Art Resource, NY)

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153

painted infl uential Catholic political fi gures as well as dramatic biblical scenes, but art in

the Netherlands tended to emphasize the quotidian scenes of urban life rather than the pas-

sions of religious ecstasy or the grandeur of royal families.

In religion, after initial disputes, the Dutch Republic adopted toleration. Early in the

seventeenth century the Dutch Calvinists divided. One group favored a modifi cation of

Calvinism, with a toning down of the doctrine of absolute predestination. This more moder-

ate Calvinism drew its main support from the comfortable burghers and its doctrines from a

theologian of Leyden named Arminius, whose ideas were condemned at an

international Calvinist synod in 1618. But beginning in 1632 the Arminians

were tolerated. Rights were granted to the large Catholic minority. Jews had Religious toleration

PORTRAIT OF THE ARTIST WITH ISABELLE BRANT by Peter Paul Rubens (Flemish, 1577–1640)

Isabelle Brant married Rubens about the time he painted this dual portrait (c. 1610), which conveys the affection in an early seventeenth-century marriage. This painting suggests the importance of family relationships for an artist whose best-known works often portrayed famous public fi gures or Catholic religious themes. (Staatsgemaeldesammlungen, Munich/Art Resource, NY)

18. The Dutch Republic

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Chapter 4 The Growing Power of Western Europe, 1640–1715154

GIRL READING A LETTER AT AN OPEN WINDOW by Jan Vermeer (Dutch, 1632–1675)

Vermeer’s characteristic interest in the mysteries of human character, the subtle shades of light, and the complex folds of a curtain appear in this painting of a young woman who seems to have received a disconcerting message or perhaps long anticipated news from afar. (Bridgeman-Giraudon/Art Resource, NY)

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155

long been welcomed in the republic; and Christian sects despised everywhere else, such as

the Mennonites, found a refuge in Dutch towns. Although none of these people had as many

political or economic rights as the Calvinists, the resulting mixture stimulated both the

intellectual life and the commercial enterprise of the country.

The Dutch as early as 1600 had 10,000 ships, and throughout the seventeenth century

they owned most of the shipping of northern Europe. They were the carriers between Spain,

France, England, and the Baltic. They also settled in Bordeaux to buy wines,

lent money to vintners, and soon owned many vineyards in France itself.

They sailed on every sea. They entered the Pacifi c by way of South America,

where they rounded Cape Horn and named it after Hoorn in Holland.

Organized in the East India Company of 1602, their merchants increasingly replaced the

Portuguese in India and the Far East. In Java, in 1619, they founded the city of Batavia—the

Latin name for Holland. (The city is now called Jakarta.)

Not long after 1600 the Dutch reached Japan. But the Japanese, fearing the political

consequences of Christian penetration, in 1641 expelled all other Europeans and confi ned

the Dutch to limited operations on an island near Nagasaki. The Dutch remained for over

two centuries the sole link of the West with Japan. In 1612 the Dutch founded their fi rst

settlement on Manhattan Island, and in 1621 they established a Dutch West India Com-

pany to exploit the loosely held riches of Spanish and Portuguese America. The new West

India company also entered the expanding Atlantic slave trade and transported enslaved

Africans to recently founded Dutch colonies at Pernambuco and Bahia in Brazil (lost soon

thereafter) and at Curaçao and Guiana in the Caribbean. In 1652 the Dutch captured the

Cape of Good Hope in South Africa from the Portuguese. Dutch settlers soon appeared.

Moving inland, they occupied the territory of the Khoikhoi and displaced or enslaved the

people whose ancestors had lived there for centuries. These Dutch settlers mixed with

French Huguenots and others in southern Africa and gradually became the Afrikaner peo-

ple, whose modern language and religion still refl ect their mainly Dutch origins.

In 1609 the Dutch founded the Bank of Amsterdam. European money

was a chaos; coins were minted not only by great monarchs but also by

small states and cities in Germany and Italy, and even by private persons. In

addition, under infl ationary pressures, kings and others habitually debased

their coins by adding more alloy, while leaving the old coins in circulation along with the

new. Anyone handling money thus accumulated a miscellany of uncertain value. The Bank

of Amsterdam accepted deposits of such mixed money from all persons and from all coun-

tries, assessed the gold and silver content, and, at rates of exchange fi xed by itself, allowed

depositors to withdraw equivalent values in gold fl orins minted by the Bank of Amsterdam.

These were of known and unchanging weight and purity. They thus became an internation-

ally sought money, an international measure of value, acceptable everywhere. Depositors

were also allowed to draw checks against their accounts. These conveniences, plus a safety

of deposits guaranteed by the Dutch government, attracted capital from all quarters and

made possible loans for a wide range of purposes. Amsterdam remained the fi nancial cen-

ter of Europe until the French Revolution.

Under their republican government the Dutch enjoyed great freedom, but it can hardly

be said that their form of government met all the requirements of a modern state. The

seven provinces that sent representatives to the Estates General of the United Provinces

were all jealous of their own independence. Each province had, as its executive, an elected

stadholder, but there was no stadholder for the United Provinces as a whole. This diffi culty

was overcome by the fact that most of the various provinces usually elected the head of

Dutch explorations

and settlements

The Bank of

Amsterdam

18. The Dutch Republic

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Chapter 4 The Growing Power of Western Europe, 1640–1715156

the house of Orange as their own stadholder. This family had enjoyed exceptional prestige

in the republic since the days of William the Silent and the wars for independence, but the

prince of Orange, apart from being stadholder, was simply one of the feudal noblemen of

the country. In general, however, the commercial class had more wealth than the older

noble families, and affairs were usually managed by the burghers.

THE GEOGRAPHER by Jan Vermeer (Dutch, 1632–1675)

The impact on Europe of the opening of the Atlantic may be seen in this painting. For the fi rst time in human history it had become possible to understand with some accuracy the relation- ships of the oceans and continents around the globe. The Dutch built up a large ocean-going trade, and many of the leading cartographers lived in the Netherlands. (Album/Art Resource, NY)

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157

Politics in the Dutch Republic was a seesaw between the burghers, pacifi stic and

absorbed with business, and the princes of Orange, to whom the country owed most of

its military security. When foreigners threatened invasion, the power of the stadholder

increased. When all was calm, the stadholder could do little. The Peace of Westphalia

produced a mood of confi dence in the burghers, followed by a constitutional crisis, in the

course of which the stadholder William II died, in 1650. No new stadholder was elected

for 22 years. The burgher, civilian, and decentralizing tendencies prevailed.

In 1650, eight days after his father’s death, the third William was born in the house of

Orange, seemingly fated never to be stadholder and to pass his life as a private nobleman

on his own estates. William III grew up to be a grave and reserved young

man, small and rather stocky, with thin, compressed lips and a determined

spirit. He learned to speak Dutch, German, English, and French with equal

facility and to understand Italian, Spanish, and Latin. He observed the

requirements of his religion, which was Dutch Calvinism, with sober regularity. He had a

strong dislike for everything magnifi cent or pompous; he lived plainly, hated fl attery, and

took no pleasure in social conversation. In these respects he was the opposite of his life-

long enemy the Sun King, whom he resembled only in his diligent preoccupation with

affairs. In 1677 William married the king of England’s niece, Mary Stuart.

Foreign Affairs: Confl ict with the English and French

Meanwhile matters were not going favorably for the Dutch Republic. In 1651 the revolu-

tionary government then ruling England passed a Navigation Act. This act may be con-

sidered the fi rst of a long series of political measures by which the British began to build

their colonial empire. It was aimed against the Dutch carrying trade. It provided that goods

imported into England and its dependencies must be transported on English ships or on

ships belonging to the country exporting the goods. Because the Dutch were

too small a people to be great producers and exporters themselves, and lived

largely by carrying the goods of others, they saw in the new English policy a

threat to their economic existence. The Dutch and English soon entered into

a series of three wars, running with interruptions from 1652 to 1674 and generally inde-

cisive, though in 1664 the English annexed New Amsterdam and renamed it New York.

While thus assaulted at sea by the English, the Dutch were menaced on land by the

French. Louis XIV made his fi rst aggressive move in 1667, claiming the Spanish Netherlands

and Franche-Comté by alleging certain rights of his Spanish wife, and overrunning the

Spanish Netherlands with his army. The Dutch, to whom the Spanish Netherlands were a

buffer against France, set into motion the mechanism of the balance of power. Dropping tem-

porarily their disputes with the English, they allied with them instead; and because they were

able also to secure the adherence of Sweden, the resulting Triple Alliance was suffi cient to

give pause to Louis XIV, who withdrew from the Spanish Netherlands. But in 1672 Louis

XIV again rapidly crossed the Spanish Netherlands, attacked with forces fi ve times as large

as the Dutch, and occupied three of the seven Dutch provinces.

A popular clamor now arose among the Dutch for William of Orange,

demanding that the young prince, who was 22 years of age, be installed

in the old offi ce of stadholder, in which his ancestors had defended them

against Spain. He was duly elected stadholder in six provinces. In 1673

these six provinces voted to make the stadholderate hereditary in the house

of Orange. William, during his whole “reign” in the Netherlands, attempted to centralize

William of Orange

Threats by sea

and land

The election of

William as

stadholder

18. The Dutch Republic

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Chapter 4 The Growing Power of Western Europe, 1640–1715158

and consolidate his government, put down the traditional liberties of the provinces, and

free himself from constitutional checks, moving generally in the direction of absolute

monarchy. He was unable, however, to go far in this course, and the United Provinces

remained a decentralized patrician republic until 1795.

Meanwhile, to stave off the immediate menace of Louis XIV, William resorted to a

new manipulation of the balance of power. He formed an alliance this time with the minor

powers of Denmark and Brandenburg (the small German state around Berlin) and with the

Austrian and Spanish Habsburgs. Nothing could indicate more clearly the new European

concern about the balance of power than this coming over of the Dutch to the Habsburg

side. This alliance presented a forceful new challenge to Louis XIV and pushed him into

negotiations that ended this phase of his expansionist wars. Peace was signed in 1678 (by

the treaty of Nimwegen), but only at the expense of Spain and the Holy Roman Empire,

from which Louis XIV took the long coveted Franche-Comté, together with another batch

of towns in Flanders (see map, p. 149). The Dutch preserved their territory

intact.

In the next ten years came the great windfall of William’s life. In 1689

he became king of England. He was now able to bring the British Isles

into his perpetual combinations against France. Because the real impact of

France was yet to be felt, and the real bid of Louis XIV for universal monarchy was yet to

be made, and because the English at this time were rapidly gaining in strength, the entrance

of England was a decisive addition to the balance formed against French expansion. In this

way the constitutional upheavals in England, by bringing a determined Dutchman to the

English throne, entered into the general stream of European affairs and helped to assure

that western Europe and its overseas offshoots should not be dominated totally by France.

19. BRITAIN: THE CIVIL WAR

After the defeat of the Spanish Armada and recession of the Spanish threat the English

were for a time less closely involved with the affairs of the Continent. They played no

signifi cant part in the Thirty Years’ War and were almost the only European people west

of Poland who were not represented at the Congress of Westphalia. At the time of the

Westphalia negotiations in the 1640s they were in fact engaged in a civil war of their own.

This English civil war was a milder variant of the Wars of Religion that desolated France,

Germany, and the Netherlands. It was fought not between Protestants and Catholics as

on the Continent, but between the more extreme or Calvinistic Protestants called Puritans

and the more moderate Protestants, who adhered to the established Church of England.

As in the wars on the Continent, religious differences were mixed indistinguishably with

political and constitutional issues. As the Huguenots represented to some extent feudal

rebelliousness against the French monarchy, as German Protestants fought for states’ rights

against imperial centralization, and the Calvinists of the Netherlands for provincial liber-

ties against the king of Spain, so the Puritans asserted the rights of Parliament against the

mounting claims of royalty in England.

The civil war in England took many lives, but was less destructive than most such wars

on the Continent; and England escaped the worst horrors of the Wars of Religion. The same

was not true of the British Isles as a whole. After 1603 the kingdoms of England and Scotland,

while otherwise separate, were ruled by the same king; the kingdom of Ireland remained, as

before, a dependency of the English crown. Between England and Presbyterian Scotland

there was constant friction, but the worst trouble was between England and Catholic Ireland,

which was the scene of religious warfare as savage as that on the Continent.

William comes to the

English throne

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15919. Britain: The Civil War

England in the Seventeenth Century

For the English the seventeenth century was an age of great achievement, during which

they made their debut as one of the chief peoples of modern Europe. In 1600 only 4 or

5  million persons, in England and Lowland Scotland, spoke the English language. The

number did not rise rapidly for another century and a half. But the population began to

spread. Religious discontents, reinforced by economic pressures, led to considerable emi-

gration. Twenty thousand Puritans settled in New England between 1630 and 1640, and a

similar number went to Barbados and other West India islands during these same years. A

third stream, again roughly of the same size, but made up mainly of Scottish Presbyterians,

settled in northern Ireland under government auspices, driving away or

expropriating the native Celts. English Catholics were allowed by the home

government to settle in Maryland. A great many members of the Church of

England went to Virginia during and after the midcentury civil war, adding

to the small settlement made at Jamestown in 1607. Except for the move-

ment to northern Ireland, called the “plantation of Ulster,” these migrations took place

without much attention on the part of the government, through private initiative organized

in commercial companies. After the middle of the century the government began deliber-

ately to build an empire. New York was conquered from the Dutch, Jamaica from the Span-

ish, and Pennsylvania and the Carolinas were established. All the thirteen colonies except

Georgia were founded before 1700, but there were at that time still less than half a million

Europeans and Africans in British North America.

The English also, like the Dutch, French, and Spanish at the time, were creating their

national culture. Throughout western Europe the national languages, encroaching upon

international Latin on the one hand and local dialects on the other, were becoming new

linguistic vehicles for the expression of thought and feeling. William Shakespeare helped

to shape the evolving English language through the enduring infl uence of his great plays,

including the famous tragedies Hamlet, Macbeth, and King Lear —all of which were fi rst

English emigration to

North America

The English playwright William Shake- speare helped to shape the modern English language as well as much of the later history of English theater and lit- erature. This image of the famous author appeared on an early seventeenth-century edition of his collected works. (Hulton Archive/Getty Images)

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Chapter 4 The Growing Power of Western Europe, 1640–1715160

performed and published in the early years of the seventeenth century. John Milton pub-

lished his infl uential epic poems Paradise Lost and Paradise Regained later in this same century, after the bitter confl icts of the English Civil War. Shakespeare and Milton pro-

jected their complex conceptions of human experience, aspirations, and tragedy with the

imaginative power of both new and old words. The English classical literature, rugged in

form but deep in content, vigorous yet subtle in insight, majestic, abundant, and sonorous

in expression, was almost the reverse of French classical writing, with its virtues of order,

economy, propriety, and graceful precision. Proud of their literary culture and their own

great writers, the English could never thereafter quite yield to French standards, nor be

dazzled or dumbfounded, as some peoples were, by the cultural glories of the Age of Louis

XIV. There were no seventeenth-century painters comparable to those on the Continent,

but in music it was the age of Thomas Campion and Henry Purcell, and in architecture the

century closed with the great buildings of Christopher Wren.

Economically the English were enterprising and affl uent, though in

1600 far outdistanced by the Dutch. They had a larger and more produc-

tive country than the Dutch, and were therefore not as limited to purely

mercantile and seafaring occupations. Coal was mined around Newcastle, but it was not

yet a leading source of English wealth. The great industry was the growing of sheep and

manufacture of woolens, which were the main export. Spinning and weaving were done

mostly by workers in the country, under the putting-out system, and organized by mer-

chants according to the methods of commercial capitalism. Since 1553 the English had

traded with Russia by way of the White Sea; they were increasingly active in the Baltic

and eastern Mediterranean; and with the founding of the East India Company, in 1600,

they competed with the Dutch in assaulting the old Portuguese monopoly in India and

East Asia. But profi table as such overseas operations were becoming, the main wealth of

England was still in the land. The richest men were not merchants but landlords, and the

landed aristocracy formed the richest class.

Background to the Civil War: Parliament and the Stuart Kings

In England, as elsewhere in the seventeenth century, the kings clashed with their old medi-

eval representative institutions. In England the old institution, Parliament, won out against

the king. But this was not the unique feature in the English development. In Germany the

estates of the Holy Roman Empire triumphed against the emperor, and much the same

thing, as will be seen, occurred in Poland. But on the Continent the triumph of the old

representative institutions generally meant political dissolution or even anarchy. Suc-

cessful governments were generally those in which kingly powers increased; this was the

strong tendency of the time, evident even in the Dutch Republic after 1672 under William

of Orange. The unique thing about England was that Parliament, in defeating the king,

arrived at a workable form of government. Government remained strong but came under

parliamentary control. This determined the character of modern England and launched

into the history of Europe and of the world the great movement of liberalism and repre-

sentative institutions.

The violent struggles that ultimately produced England’s new political order emerged

from the confl icting ambitions of the Stuart kings and the most powerful social groups in

the English Parliament. In 1603, on the death of Queen Elizabeth, the Eng-

lish crown was inherited by the son of Mary Stuart, James VI of Scotland.

As a descendant of Henry VII he became king of England also, taking there

the title of James I. James was a philosopher of royal absolutism. He had

Economic activity

The Stuarts and

Parliament

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161

even written a book on the subject, The True Law of Free Monarchy. By a “free” monar- chy James meant a monarchy free from control by Parliament, churchmen, or laws and

customs of the past. It was a monarchy in which the king, as father to his people, looked

after their welfare as he saw fi t, standing above all parties, private interests, and pressure

groups. He even declared that kings drew their authority from God and were responsible to

God alone, a doctrine known as the divine right of kings.

Any ruler succeeding Elizabeth would probably have had trouble with Parliament,

which had shown signs of restlessness in the last years of her reign but had deferred to her

as an aging woman and a national symbol. She had maintained peace within the country

and fought off the Spaniards, but these very accomplishments persuaded many people that

they could safely bring their grievances into the open. James I was a foreigner, a Scot, who

lacked the touch for dealing with the English and who was moreover a royal pedant, the

“wisest fool in Christendom,” as he was uncharitably called. Not content with the actual

or implicit methods of political control, as Elizabeth had been, he read the Parliament tire-

some lectures on the royal rights. He also was in constant need of money because the wars

against Spain had left a considerable debt. James was far from economical, and, in any

case, in an age of rising prices, he could not live within the fi xed and customary revenues

of the English crown. These were of medieval character, increasingly quaint under the new

national and international conditions.

Neither to James I nor to his son Charles I, who succeeded him in 1625, would Parlia-

ment grant adequate revenue. It distrusted them both, partly for fi nancial reasons and partly

on religious grounds. Many members of Parliament were Puritans, whose Calvinist beliefs

made them dissatisfi ed with the organization and doctrine of the Church of England.

Elizabeth had tried to hush up religious troubles, but James threatened to “harry the Puritans

out of the land,” and Charles supported the Church hierarchy, which under Archbishop Laud

sought to enforce religious conformity. Many members of Parliament were also lawyers,

who feared that the common law of England, the historic or customary law, was in danger.

They disliked the prerogative courts—the Star Chamber set up by Henry VII to settle

disputes without the deliberations of a jury and the High Commission set up by Elizabeth to

ensure conformity to the theology of the Church of England. They heard with trepidation the

new doctrine that the sovereign king could make laws and decide cases at his own discretion.

Last but not least, practically all members of Parliament were property owners. Landowners,

supported by the merchants, feared that if the king succeeded in raising taxes on his own

authority, their wealth would be insecure. Hence there were multiple causes for a growing

parliamentary resistance.

In England the Parliament was so organized as to make resistance

effective. There was only one Parliament for the whole country. There

were no provincial or local estates, as in the Dutch Republic, Spain, France,

Germany, and Poland. All parliamentary opposition was therefore concen-

trated in one place. In this one Parliament, there were only two houses, the House of Lords

and the House of Commons. The landed interest dominated in both houses, the noblemen

in the Lords and the gentry in the Commons. In the Commons the gentry, who formed the

bulk of the aristocracy, mixed with representatives of the merchants and the towns. Indeed

the towns frequently chose country gentlemen to represent them. These connections sug-

gest why the houses of Parliament (especially the Commons) did not accentuate, as did the

estates on the Continent, the class division within the country.

Nor was the church present in Parliament as a separate force. Before Henry VIII’s

break with Rome the bishops and abbots together had formed a large majority in the House

of Lords. Now there were no abbots left, for there were no monasteries. The House of

Parliamentary

resistance

19. Britain: The Civil War

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Chapter 4 The Growing Power of Western Europe, 1640–1715162

Lords was now predominantly secular; in the fi rst Parliament of James I there were 82 lay

peers and 26 bishops. The great landowners had captured the House of Lords. The smaller

landowners of the Commons had been enriched by receiving former monastic lands and

had prospered by raising wool. The merchants had likewise grown up under mercantilistic

protection. Parliament was strong not only in organization but also in the social interests

and wealth that it represented. No king could long govern against its will.

In 1629 king and Parliament came to a deadlock. Charles I attempted to rule without

Parliament, which could legally meet only at the royal summons. He intended to give

England a good and effi cient government. Had he succeeded, the course of English consti-

tutional development would have paralleled that of France. But by certain reforms in

Ireland he antagonized the English landlords who had interests in that country. By support-

ing the leadership and theology of the Church of England he made enemies of the Puritans.

And by attempting to modernize the navy with funds raised without parliamentary consent

(called “ship money”) he alarmed all property owners, who feared that they would be

forced to pay for policies they opposed.

The ship-money dispute illustrates the best arguments of both sides. It

was the old custom in England for coastal towns to provide ships for the

king’s service in time of war. More recently, these coastal towns had pro-

vided money instead. Charles I wished to maintain a navy in time of peace

and to have ship money paid by the country as a whole, including the inland counties. In

the old or medieval view it was the function of the towns that were directly affected to

maintain a fl eet. In the new view, sponsored by the king, the whole nation was the unit on

which a navy should be based. The country gentlemen whom Parliament mainly repre-

sented, and most of whom lived in inland counties, had less interest in the navy, and in any

case were unwilling to pay for it unless they could control the foreign policies for which a

navy might be used. The parliamentary class represented the idea, derived from the Middle

Ages, that taxes should be authorized by Parliament. The king represented the newer ideas

of monarchy that were developing on the Continent, which included a belief in the king’s

right to collect revenues that were needed by the state. The politically signifi cant classes in

England would not accept such ideas. Until the king could govern with the confi dence of

Parliament, or until Parliament itself was willing, not merely to keep down taxes but to

assume the fi nancial responsibilities of government under modern conditions, neither a

navy nor any effectual government could be maintained.

The Scots were the fi rst to rebel. In 1637 they rioted in Edinburgh against attempts

to impose the Church of England’s prayer book and episcopal organization in Scotland.

Charles, to raise funds to put down the Scottish rebellion, convoked the English Parliament

in 1640, for the fi rst time in 11 years. When it proved hostile to him, he dissolved it and

called for new elections. The same men were returned. The resulting body,

because it sat theoretically for 20 years without new elections, from 1640

to 1660, is known historically as the Long Parliament. Its principal leaders

were small or moderately well-to-do landowning gentry. The merchant class, while fur-

nishing no leaders, lent its support.

The Long Parliament, far from assisting the king against the Scots, used the Scottish

rebellion as a means of pressing its own demands. These were revolutionary from the

outset. Parliament insisted that the chief royal advisers be not merely removed but

impeached and put to death. It abolished the Star Chamber and the High Commission. The

most extreme Calvinist element, the “root and branch” men or “radicals,” drove through

a bill for the abolition of bishops, revolutionizing the Church of England. In 1642 Parlia-

ment and king came to open war: the king drawing followers mainly from the north and

The ship-money

dispute

The Long Parliament

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163

west; the Parliament, from the commercially and agriculturally more advanced counties

of the south and east (see map, p. 170). A series of bloody battles steadily weakened the

king’s position, and his army dissolved in 1646. During the war, as the price of support

from the Scottish army, Parliament also transformed the government’s offi cial Protestant-

ism by adopting the Solemn League and Covenant, which made Presbyterianism the estab-

lished legal religion of England, Scotland, and Ireland.

The Emergence of Cromwell

The parliamentary forces, called Roundheads from the close haircuts favored by Puritans,

gained their major military victories with an effi cient new army, the New Model Army,

and a highly competent commander, Thomas Fairfax. The wars also brought a hitherto

unknown gentleman named Oliver Cromwell to the foreground. A devout Protestant, he

organized an especially effective regiment in the New Model Army, the Ironsides, in

which extreme Protestant exaltation provided the basis for morale, discipline, and the will

to fi ght. By the late 1640s Cromwell had become the most powerful political and military

leader of the parliamentary forces. The army, in which a more popular class was repre-

sented than in the Parliament, became the center of advanced democratic ideas. Many of

the soldiers objected to Presbyterianism as much as to the Church of England. They

favored a free toleration for all “godly” forms of religion, with no superior church organi-

zation above local groups of like-minded spirits.

Cromwell concluded that the defeated king, Charles I, could not be trusted, that

“ungodly” persons of all kinds put their hopes in him (what later ages would call counter-

revolution), and that he must be put to death. Because Parliament hesitated, Cromwell with

the support of the army moved against Parliament. The Long Parliament, having started

in 1640 with some 500 members, had sunk by 1649 to about 150 (for this revolution, like

others, was pushed through by a minority); of these Cromwell now drove

out almost 100, leaving a Rump of 50 or 60. This operation was called

Pride’s Purge, after Colonel Pride who commanded the armed force that

intimidated Parliament; and in subsequent revolutions such forced removals

have been commonly known as purges, and the residues, sometimes, as rumps. The Rump

condemned King Charles for “treason” and sent him to death on the scaffold in 1649.

England, or rather the whole British Isles, was now declared a republic. It was named

the Commonwealth. Cromwell tried to govern as best he could. Religious toleration was

decreed except for Unitarians and atheists on the one hand, and except for Roman Catholics

and the most obstinate supporters of the Church of England on the other. Cromwell had to

subdue both Scotland and Ireland by force. In Scotland the execution of the king, violating

the ancient national Scottish monarchy of the Stuarts, had swung the country back into the

royalist camp. Cromwell crushed the Scots in 1650.

Meanwhile the Protestant and Calvinist fury swept over Ireland. A

massacre of newly settled Protestants in Ulster in 1641 had left bitter mem-

ories that were now avenged. The Irish garrisons of Drogheda and Wexford

were defeated and massacred. Thousands of Catholics were killed; priests

were put to the sword, and women and small children were dispatched in cold blood. Where

formerly, in the “plantation” of Ulster, a whole Protestant population had been settled in

northern Ireland, bodily replacing the native Irish, now Protestant landlords were scattered

over the country as a whole, replacing the Catholic landlords and retaining the Catholic

peasantry as their tenants. Ireland’s native religion and clergy were driven underground,

a foreign and detested church was established, and a new and foreign landed aristocracy,

Pride’s Purge

Religious violence in

the Commonwealth

19. Britain: The Civil War

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Chapter 4 The Growing Power of Western Europe, 1640–1715164

originally recruited in large measure from military adventurers, was settled upon the coun-

try, in which it ceased to reside as soon as it assured the payment of its rents.

In England itself Cromwell ruled with great diffi culty. His regime was more successful

in pursuing English commercial and colonial interests abroad, for he not only completed

the violent subjugation of Ireland, but in the Navigation Act of 1651, which barred Dutch

ships from carrying goods between other countries and England or its colonies, he also

opened the previously noted English attack on the Dutch maritime supremacy. He further

waged a war with Spain in which England acquired Jamaica, thereby expanding England’s

involvement in the new slave-based sugar production system in the Caribbean and launch-

ing an English campaign for some of the vast inheritance of the Spanish Habsburgs. But he

failed to gain the support of a majority of the English. The Puritan Revolution, like others,

produced its extremists. It failed to satisfy the most ardent and could not win over the truly

conservative, so that Cromwell found himself reluctantly more autocratic, and more alone.

A party arose called the Levellers, who were in fact what later

times would call radical political democrats. They were numerous in the

Puritan army, though their chief spokesman, John Lilburne, was a civilian.

Appealing to natural rights and to the rights of Englishmen, they asked for

a nearly universal manhood suffrage, equality of representation, a written

constitution, and subordination of Parliament to a reformed body of voters. The Levellers

thus anticipated many ideas of the American and French revolutions over a century later,

but they were at this time repressed and expelled from the army. There were others in

whom religious and social radicalism were indistinguishably mixed. George Fox, going

Religious and social

radicalism

The execution of King Charles I marked the dramatic triumph of the radical, parliamentary forces in 1649, but the king’s death—portrayed here in a seventeenth-century engraving— raised unprecedented questions about the proper limits for political authority and religious radicalism in English society. (The Granger Collection, NYC)

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16520. Britain: The Triumph of Parliament

beyond Calvinism or Presbyterianism, led a new movement of radical religious dissenters

who became known as the Society of Friends, or “Quakers.” The Quakers were condemned

by the established Protestant clergy and many were imprisoned, but the movement contin-

ued to attract inspired adherents by insisting that all believers could have new revelations

of spiritual truth, by rejecting various social and religious hierarchies, and by allowing or

even encouraging women to preach at their meetings. A more ephemeral group, the “Dig-

gers,” proceeded to occupy and cultivate common lands, or lands privately owned, in a

general repudiation of property. The Fifth Monarchy Men were a millennial group who

felt that the end of the world was at hand. They were so called from their belief, as they

read the Bible, that history has seen four empires, those of Assyria, Persia, Alexander, and

Caesar; and that the existing world was still “Caesar’s” but would soon give way to the

fi fth monarchy, of Christ, in which justice would fi nally prevail.

Among the many religious groups that emerged during the era of the English Revolution, the Quakers became especially notorious for their critique of religious hierarchies and their will- ingness to let women speak at their meetings. The novelty of the group is suggested in this seventeenth-century French illustration of a woman addressing a Quaker assembly. (Fotomas Index/Bridgeman Art Library)

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Chapter 4 The Growing Power of Western Europe, 1640–1715166

Cromwell opposed all such radical movements, which threatened both well-established

persons and long-established social and religious hierarchies. As a regicide and a Puritan,

however, he could not seek support from the royalists or the former leaders of the Church of

England. Unable to agree even with the Rump, he abolished it also in 1653, and thereafter

vainly attempted to govern, as Lord Protector, through representative bodies devised by

himself and his followers, under a written constitution, the Instrument of Government.

Actually, he was driven to place England under military rule, the regime of the “major gen-

erals.” These offi cials, each in his district, repressed malcontents, vagabonds, and “bandits,”

closed ale houses, and prohibited cockfi ghting, in a mixture of moral puritanism and politi-

cal dictatorship. Cromwell died in 1658; and his son was unable to maintain the Protector-

ate. Two years later, with all but universal assent, royalty was restored. Charles II, son of the

recently executed Charles I, became king of England and of Scotland.

Cromwell, by beheading a king and keeping his successor off the throne for 11 years,

left a lesson that was not forgotten. Though he favored constitutional and parliamentary

government and had granted a measure of religious toleration, he had in fact ruled as a

dictator in behalf of a stern Puritan minority. The English people now began to blot from

their memories the fact that they had ever had a real revolution. The fervid

dream of a “godly” England was dissipated forever. What was remembered

was a nightmare of standing armies and major generals, of grim Puritans

and overwrought religious enthusiasts. The English lower classes ceased to

have any political role or consciousness for over a century, except in spo-

radic rioting over food shortages or outbursts against the dangers of “popery.” Democratic

ideas were rejected as “levelling.” They were generally abandoned in England after 1660

or were cherished by obscure individuals and religious radicals who could not make them-

selves heard. Such ideas, indeed, had a more continuous history in the English colonies in

America, where some leaders of the discredited revolution took refuge.

20. BRITAIN: THE TRIUMPH OF PARLIAMENT

The Restoration, 1660–1688: The Later Stuarts

What was restored in 1660 was not only the monarchy, in the person of Charles II, but also

the Church of England and the Parliament. Everything, legally, was supposed to be as it

had been in 1640. The difference was that Charles II, knowing the fate of his father, was

careful not to provoke Parliament to extremes and that the classes represented in Parlia-

ment, frightened by the disturbances of the past 20 years, were now more warmly loyal to

the king and more willing to uphold the established Church of England.

Parliament during the Restoration enacted some far-reaching legisla-

tion. It changed the legal basis of land tenure, abolishing certain old feudal

payments owed by landholders to the king. The possession of land thus

came to resemble modern private property, and the landowning class

became more defi nitely a propertied aristocracy. In place of the feudal dues to the king,

which had been automatically payable, Parliament arranged for the king to receive income

in the form of taxation, which Parliament could raise or reduce in amount. This gave a new

power to Parliament and a new fl exibility to government. The aristocracy thus cleared their

property of customary restrictions and obligations, and at the same time undertook to sup-

port the state by imposing taxes on themselves. The English aristocracy proved more will-

ing than the corresponding classes on the Continent to pay a large share of the expenses of

government. Its reward for this taxation was that, for a century and a half, it virtually ran

the government to the exclusion of everyone else. Landowners in this period directed not

Legacy of the

revolution

New legislation

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Tristboice

167

only national affairs through Parliament but also local affairs as justices of the peace. The

justices, drawn from the gentry of each county, decided small lawsuits, punished misde-

meanors, and supervised the parish offi cials charged with poor relief and care of the roads.

The regime of the landlord-justices came to be called the “squirearchy.”

Other classes drew less immediate advantage from the Restoration. The Navigation Act

of 1651 was extended, so that commercial, shipping, and manufacturing interests were well

protected. But in other ways the landed classes now in power showed themselves unsym-

pathetic to the business classes of the towns. Many people in the towns were Dissenters,

of the element formerly called Puritan and now refusing to accept the

restored Church of England. Parliament excluded Dissenters from the town

“corporations,” or governing bodies, forbade any dissenting clergymen

to teach school or come within fi ve miles of an incorporated town, and

prohibited all religious meetings, called “conventicles,” not held accord-

ing to the forms and by the authority of the Church of England. The effect was that many

middle-class townspeople found it diffi cult or impossible to follow their preferred religion,

to obtain an education for their children, either elementary or advanced (for Oxford and

Cambridge were a part of the established church), to take part in local affairs through the

town corporations, or to sit in the House of Commons. The lowest classes, the very poor,

were discouraged by the same laws from following sectarian and visionary preachers.

Another enactment fell upon them alone, the Act of Settlement of 1662, which decentral-

ized the administration of the Poor Law, making each parish responsible only for its own

paupers. Poor people, who were very numerous, were condemned to remain in the parishes

where they lived. A large section of the English population was immobilized.

But it was not long after the Restoration that Parliament and king were again at odds.

The main issue was again religion. Many Protestants throughout Europe at this time

were returning voluntarily to Roman Catholicism, a tendency naturally dreaded by the

Protestant churches. This kind of conversion was most conspicuously illustrated when

the daughter of Gustavus Adolphus himself, Queen Christina of Sweden, abdicated her

throne and was received into the Roman church. In England the national feeling was excit-

edly anti-Catholic. No measures were more popular than those against “popery”; and the

squires in Parliament, stiffl y loyal to the Church of England, dreaded papists even more

than Dissenters. The king, Charles II, was personally inclined to Catholicism. He admired

the magnifi cent monarchy of Louis XIV, which he would have liked to duplicate, insofar

as possible, in England. At odds with his Parliament, Charles II made overtures to Louis

XIV. The secret treaty of Dover of 1670 was the outcome. Charles thereby agreed to join

Louis XIV in his expected war against the Dutch; and Louis agreed to pay the king of

England 3 million livres a year during the war. He hoped also that Charles II would soon

fi nd it opportune to rejoin the Roman church.

While these arrangements were unknown in detail in England, it was known that

Charles II was well disposed to the French and to Roman Catholicism. England went to

war again with the Dutch. The king’s brother and heir, James, Duke of York, publicly

announced his conversion to Rome. Charles II, in a “declaration of indulgence,” announced

the nonenforcement of laws against Dissenters. The king declared that he favored general

toleration, but it was rightly feared that his real aim was to promote Roman Catholicism in

England. Parliament retorted in 1673 by passing the Test Act, which

required all offi ceholders to take communion in the Church of England.

The Test Act renewed the legislation against Dissenters and also made it

impossible for Catholics to serve in the government or in the army and

navy. The Test Act remained on the statute books until 1828.

Exclusion of

Dissenters

Charles II and the

Test Act

20. Britain: The Triumph of Parliament

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Chapter 4 The Growing Power of Western Europe, 1640–1715168

Although Charles’s pro-French and pro-Catholic policies were extremely unpopular,

the situation might not have come to a head except for the avowed Catholicism and French

orientation of Charles’s brother James, due to be the next king because Charles had no

legitimate children. A strong movement developed in Parliament to exclude James by law

from the throne. The exclusionists—and those generally who were most suspicious of the

king, Catholics, and the French—received the nickname of Whigs. The king’s supporters

were popularly called Tories. The Whigs, while backed by the middle class and merchants

of London, drew their main strength from the upper aristocracy, especially certain great

noblemen who might expect, if the king’s power were weakened, to play a prominent part

in ruling the country themselves. The Tories were the party of the lesser aristocracy and

gentry, those who were suspicious of the “moneyed interest” of London, and felt a strong

loyalty to church and king. These two parties, or at least their names, became permanently

established in English public life. But all the Whigs and Tories together, at this time, did

not number more than a few thousand persons.

The Revolution of 1688

James II, despite Whig vexation, became king in 1685. He soon antagonized even the

Tories, who strongly supported the Church of England. As landowners they appointed

most of the parish clergy, who imparted Tory sentiments to the rural population; and mem-

bers of landowning Tory families frequently became bishops, archdeacons, university

functionaries, and other high personnel of the church. The laws keeping Dissenters and

Catholics from offi ce had given Anglicans (i.e., members of the Church of England) a

monopoly in local and national government and in the army and navy. James II acted as if

there were no Test Act, claiming the right to suspend its operation in individual cases, and

appointed a good many Catholics to infl uential and lucrative positions. He offered a pro-

gram, as his brother had done, of general religious toleration, to allow Protestant Dissent-

ers as well as Roman Catholics to participate in public life.

Such a program, whether frankly meant as a secularizing of politics or indirectly

intended as favoritism to Catholics, was repugnant to the Church of England. Seven bish-

ops refused to endorse it. They were prosecuted for disobedience to the king but were

acquitted by the jury. James, by these actions, violated the liberties of the established

church, threatened the Anglican monopoly of church and state, and aroused

the popular terrors of “popery.” He was also forced to take the position

philosophically set forth by his grandfather James I, that a king of England

could make and unmake the law by his own will. The Tories joined the

Whigs in opposition. In 1688, a son was born to James II and baptized into

the Catholic faith. The prospect now opened up of an indefi nite line of

Catholic rulers in England. The leaders of both parties thereupon aban-

doned James II and offered the throne to his grown daughter Mary, who was brought up a

Protestant before her father’s conversion to Rome.

Mary was the wife of William of Orange. William, it will be recalled, had spent his

adult life blocking the ambitions of the king of France, who had threatened Europe with

a “universal monarchy” by absorbing or inheriting the global territories of Spain. To

William III it would be a mere distraction to be husband to a queen of England, or even

to be king in his own name, unless England could be brought to serve his

own purposes. He was immutably Dutch; his purpose was to save Holland

and hence to ruin Louis XIV. His chief interest in England was to bring the

English into his balance of power against France. Because the English were

Whigs and Tories

in opposition to the

crown

William invades

England

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16920. Britain: The Triumph of Parliament

Sources: H. R. Trevor-Roper, “The Social Causes of the Great Rebellion,” in Men and Events: Historical Essays (New York: Harper and Brothers, 1957), pp. 200, 204–205; Phyllis Mack, Visionary Women: Ecstatic Prophecy in Seventeenth-Century England (Berkeley and Los Angeles: University of California Press, 1992), pp. 4–5.

Historical Interpretations and Debates

The Meaning of the English Revolution

Debates about the signifi cance of the mid-seventeenth-century English Revolution often focus on how the Revolution transformed the political or economic infl uence of various social groups. Although many historians have argued that landed, aristocratic elites emerged from the seventeenth-century upheavals as the dominant power in English society, there is much disagreement about whether the revolutionary events also enhanced or weakened the political position of other people in the multiple layers of English social life. Such differences appear in the writings of Hugh R. Trevor-Roper and Phyllis Mack, who seek to explain the Revolution’s historical meaning for some of its diverse social groups and participants.

Hugh R. Trevor-Roper, “The Social Causes of the Great Rebellion” (1957) The Great Rebellion . . . [was] not the

clear-headed self-assertion of the rising

bourgeoisie and gentry, but rather the blind

protest of the depressed gentry. . . .

It was the blind revolt of the gentry

against the Court, of the provinces against

the capital; the backwash against a century of

administrative and economic centralization.

Since they were animated by passion, not by

positive political ideas, . . . the radical gentry,

when they were in power, found themselves

without a policy. Ultimately, after a period

of fumbling experiments, they gave up the

effort, accepted back the old political system,

and sank into political quietism. . . .

The rebellion itself . . . took place

because a failure of political ability coincided

with a general economic crisis. . . . Perhaps

indirectly the rebellion may have forwarded the undoubted change of mentality between

the early and the late seventeenth century

in England. . . . But, equally, it may have

impeded that progress for a generation. . . .

What we can say. . . is that it was not, in

itself, a successful stage in the rise of the

bourgeoisie.

Phyllis Mack, Visionary Women: Ecstatic Prophecy in Seventeenth- Century England (1992) The [religious] prophets of the Civil War

period, many of them laborers, farmers, or

artisans, understood their condemnation of

an engorged clergy and aristocracy as both a

spiritual and social protest. And since women

were commonly identifi ed with the poor and

deprived, . . . one would expect that those

radical movements that championed the

poor and deprived would also champion the

increased authority of women. Yet . . . those

sects that were most radical in challenging

traditional social and economic relationships

were least likely to be attentive to the needs and

rights of oppressed people who were female.

Conversely, those women who were most

conscious of their authority as females, Quaker

and non-Quaker, were also those middle and

upper class women who had the least affi nity

with the plight of the laboring classes. . . .

Women as [religious] prophets enjoyed

virtually the only taste of public authority they

would ever know. Some of them used that author-

ity to write and publish their own works, to

organize separate women’s meetings, or to chal-

lenge the greater authority of the male leaders. . . .

The historian’s attentiveness to the issue

of gender is likely to raise more questions

than it answers. . . . [But] it suggests . . . that

the private actions of ordinary individuals

have affected larger social and political

movements as profoundly as the deeds of

great and famous men, forcing us to broaden

our defi nition of the term “politics.”

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Chapter 4 The Growing Power of Western Europe, 1640–1715170

generally anti-French, and had chafed under the pro-French tendencies of their kings, Wil-

liam quickly reached an understanding with the discontented Whigs and Tories. Protected

by a written invitation from prominent Englishmen, he invaded England with a consider-

able army. James II fl ed, and William was proclaimed co-ruler with Mary over England

and Scotland. In the next year, 1690, at the Boyne River in Ireland, a motley army of

Dutchmen, Germans, Scots, and French Huguenots under William III defeated a French

and Irish force led by James II. Thus the constitutional power of the English Parliament

was reaffi rmed, and Anglican Protestantism remained the offi cial religion of the English

nation. James II fl ed to France.

ENGLAND IN THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY The maps show the principal seventeenth-century English towns and the rough division of the country into royalist and parliamentary regions during the English Civil War. King Charles I drew his strongest support from the north and west; Parliament drew its strongest support from the southeast and from London. Similar regional political patterns emerged in later con- fl icts between the Royalist “Tories” and the Parliamentary “Whigs.” The Whigs were gener- ally supported by the upper aristocracy and the commercial classes of London, who opposed the pro-French, pro-Catholic policies of the Stuart kings Charles II and James II.

Controlled by the King

Conquered by the King

Controlled by Parliament

Conquered by Parliament

ENGLISH CIVIL WAR, 1642–43

Controlled by the King

Conquered by the King

Controlled by Parliament

Conquered by Parliament

ENGLISH CIVIL WAR, 1644–45

0 100 miles50

S C O T L A N D

E N G L A N D

W A L E S

S C O T L A N D

E N G L A N D

W A L E S

Nottingham

Liverpool

Cardigan

Stratton

Gloucester

London

Norwich

Coventry

Nottingham

Hull

Lancaster

Glasgow Edinburgh

Liverpool

Cardigan

Stratton

Gloucester

London

Norwich

Coventry

Hull

Lancaster

Glasgow Edinburgh

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171

Louis XIV of course refused to recognize his inveterate enemy as ruler of England. He

maintained James at the French court with all the honors due the English king. It was

thereafter one of his principal war aims to restore the Catholic and Stuart dynasty across

the Channel. The English now had new reasons to fi ght the French. A French victory

would mean counterrevolution and royal absolutism in England. The whole Revolution of

1688 was at stake in the French wars.

In 1689, Parliament enacted a Bill of Rights, stipulating that no law

could be suspended by the king (as the Test Act had been), no taxes could

be raised or army maintained except by parliamentary consent, and no sub-

ject (however poor) could be arrested and detained without legal process.

William III accepted these articles as conditions to receiving the crown. Thereafter the

relation between king and people was a kind of contract. It was further provided, by the

Act of Settlement of 1701, that no Catholic could be king of England; this excluded the

descendants of James II, known in the following century as the Pretenders. Parliament also

passed the Toleration Act of 1689, which allowed Protestant Dissenters to practice their

religion but still excluded them from political life and public service. Because ways of

evading these restrictions were soon found, and because even Catholics were not molested

unless they supported the Pretenders, there was thereafter no serious trouble over religion

in England and Lowland Scotland.

The English Parliament could make no laws for Scotland, however, and it was feared

that James II might someday be restored in his northern kingdom. The securing of the

parliamentary revolution in England, and of the island’s defenses against France, required

that the two kingdoms be organically joined; but there was little sentiment in Scotland, for

a merger with the English. The English tempted Scottish political leaders with economic

advantages. The Scots still had no rights in the English East India Company, nor in the

English colonies, nor within the English system of mercantilism and Navigation Acts. They

obtained such rights by consenting to a union. Although anti-merger sentiment remained

strong in much of Scotland, the United Kingdom of Great Britain was created in 1707.

The Scots retained their own legal system and established Presbyterian church, but their

government and parliament were merged with those of England. The term “British” came

into use to refer to both English and Scots.

As for Ireland, it was now feared as a center of Stuart and French intrigue. The Revolu-

tion of 1688 marked the climax of a long record of trouble. Ireland had never been simply

“conquered” by England, though certain English or rather Anglo-Norman families had

carved out estates there since the twelfth century. By the end of the Middle Ages Ireland was

organized as a separate kingdom with its own parliament, subordinate to the English crown.

During the Reformation the Irish remained Catholic while England turned

Protestant, but the monasteries were dissolved in Ireland as in England; and

the organized church as such, the established Church of Ireland, with its

apparatus of bishoprics, parishes, and tithes, became an Anglican commu-

nion in which the mass of native Irish had no interest. Next came the planta-

tion of Ulster, already mentioned, in which a mass of newcomers, mainly Scottish and

Presbyterian, settled in the northern part of the island. Then in Cromwell’s time, as just

noted, English landlords spread through the rest of the country; or rather, a new Anglo-Irish

upper class developed, in which English landowning families, residing most often in

England, added the income from Irish estates to their miscellaneous revenues.

Ireland therefore by the close of the seventeenth century was a very mixed country.

Probably two-thirds of its population was Catholic, of generally Celtic ethnic background;

perhaps a fi fth was Presbyterian, with recent Scottish connections; the small remainder

Bill of Rights and the

Toleration Act

The Irish threat to the

Revolution of 1688

20. Britain: The Triumph of Parliament

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Chapter 4 The Growing Power of Western Europe, 1640–1715172

was made up of Anglicans, largely Anglo-Irish of recent or distant origin in England, who

controlled most of the land, manned the offi cial church, and were infl uential in the Irish

parliament. It was essentially a landlord and peasant society, in which the Presbyterian and

Catholic populations were overwhelmingly agricultural and poor, towns were small, and

the middle class scarcely developed.

After the Revolution of 1688, in which the fi nal overthrow of James II took place in

Ireland at the Boyne River, the English feared Ireland as a source of danger to the postrevo-

lutionary arrangements in England and as a likely site for anti-English resistance to develop

among subjugated Catholics. English elites who were defending their own liberties at home

thus set about destroying the religious, political, and social liberties of Irish

Catholics. In addition to the burden of an alien church and absentee land-

lordism, the Irish were now subjected to a new “penal code.” Catholic clergy

were banished, and Catholics were forbidden to vote or to sit in the Irish

parliament. Catholic teachers were forbidden to teach, and Catholic parents

were forbidden to send children overseas to be educated in Catholic schools. No Catholic

could take a degree at Trinity College (Dublin University), an Anglican institution. Catholics

in Ireland were forbidden to purchase land, to lease it for more than 31 years, to inherit it

from a Protestant, or even to own a horse worth more than £5. Catholics were forbidden to

be attorneys, to serve as constables, or, in most trades, to have more than two apprentices.

Some disabilities fell on the Protestant Irish also. Thus Irish shipping was excluded from

the British colonies, nor could the Irish import colonial goods except through England.

Export of Irish woolens and glass manufactures was prohibited. No import tariff on English

manufactures could be levied by the Irish parliament. About all that was left to the Irish,

in international trade, was the export of agricultural produce; and the foreign exchange

acquired in this way went very largely to pay the rents to absentee landlords.

The purpose of the penal code was in part strategic, to weaken Ireland as a potentially

hostile country during a long period of English wars with France. In part it was commer-

cial, to favor English manufactures by removing Irish competition. And in part it was

social, to confi rm the position of the Anglican interest, or “ascendancy” as it came to be

called. Parts of the code were removed piecemeal in the following decades, and a Catholic

merchant class grew up in the eighteenth century; but much remained in effect for a long

Restrictions for

Catholics

CHRONOLOGY OF NOTABLE EVENTS, 1642–1713

1642–1648 Civil War in England

1649 Execution of King Charles I in London

1649–1658 Oliver Cromwell leads the English “Commonwealth” and “Protectorate”

1660 Restoration of English Monarchy, King Charles II

1661 King Louis XIV takes personal control of French government; reign continues

to 1715

1685 Revocation of Edict of Nantes; persecution of French Protestants

1688 “Glorious Revolution” brings William and Mary to English throne and strength-

ens power of Parliament

1702–1713 War of Spanish Succession; “balance of power” limits French expansion

1713 Peace of Utrecht

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17321. The France of Louis XIV, 1643–1715: The Triumph of Absolutism

time, so that, for example, a Catholic could not vote for members of the Irish parliament

until 1793, and even then could not be elected to it. In general, the Irish emerged from the

seventeenth century as the most repressed people of western Europe.

England, immediately after the expulsion of James II, joined William

III’s coalition against France. To the alliance England brought a highly

competent naval force, together with very considerable wealth. William’s

government, to fi nance the war, borrowed £1,200,000 from a syndicate of

private lenders, who in return for holding government bonds were given the privilege of

operating a bank. Thus originated, in 1694, both the Bank of England and the British

national debt. Owners of liquid assets, merchants of London and Whig aristocrats, having

lent their money to the new regime, had a compelling reason to defend it against the French

and James II. And having at last a government whose policies they could control, they

were willing to entrust it with money in large amounts. The national debt rapidly rose,

while the credit of the government held consistently good; and for many years people on

the Continent were astonished at the wealth that the British government could tap at will

and the quantities of money that it could pour into the wars of Europe.

The events of 1688 came to be known to the English as the Glori-

ous Revolution. The Revolution was portrayed as vindicating the principles

of parliamentary government, the rule of law, and even the right of rebel-

lion against tyranny (though, as noted above, England’s governing classes

denied all such rights in Ireland). The overthrow of James II and the enactment of new

parliamentary restrictions on the power of English kings have often been depicted as the

climax in the growth of English constitutional self-government. Political writers like John

Locke, shortly after the events, helped to give wide currency to these ideas. There was

in truth some justifi cation for these views even though in more recent times some writ-

ers have “deglorifi ed” the Revolution of 1688. They point out that it was an upper-class

movement, promoted and maintained by an exclusionary landed aristocracy. The Parlia-

ment that boldly asserted itself against the king was at the same time closing itself to

large segments of the English people. Where in the Middle Ages members of the House

of Commons had usually received pay for their services, this custom disappeared in the

seventeenth century, so that thereafter only men with independent incomes could sit. After

the parliamentary triumph of 1688 this tendency became a matter of law. An act of 1710

required members of the House of Commons to possess private incomes at such a level

that only a few thousand persons could legally qualify. This income had to come from the

ownership of land. England from 1688 to 1832 was the best example in modern times of a

true aristocracy, that is, of a country in which the men of an aristocratic landowning class

not only enjoyed privileges but also conducted the government. But the landowning inter-

est was then the only social group that was suffi ciently wealthy, numerous, educated, and

self-conscious to stand politically on its own feet. Although it depended on the labor and

trade of men and women who could never vote or hold offi ce, the rule of the “gentlemen of

England” was, within its strict social limits, an evolving, early regime of political liberty.

21. THE FRANCE OF LOUIS XIV, 1643–1715: THE TRIUMPH OF ABSOLUTISM

French Culture in the Seventeenth Century

Having traveled in the outer orbits of the seventeenth-century European political system,

we come now to its radiant and mighty center, the domain of the Sun King himself, the

Coalition against

France

The Glorious

Revolution

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Tristboice

Chapter 4 The Growing Power of Western Europe, 1640–1715174

France against which the rest of Europe felt obliged to combine because its power threat-

ened the interests of so many other countries—the future of the Spanish possessions, the

independence of Holland, the maintenance in England of the parliamentary revolution.

The France of Louis XIV owed much of its ascendancy to the quantity and quality of its

people. Population was stabilized or possibly even falling in the seventeenth century, the

last century in which France was seriously disturbed by famines and peasant rebellions.

With 19 million inhabitants in 1700 France was still over three times as populous as

England and twice as populous as Spain. Its fertile soil, in an agricultural age, made it a

wealthy country, though the wealth was very unevenly distributed.

France was big enough to harbor many contradictions. Millions of its

people lived in poverty, yet the number in comfortable or even luxurious

circumstances was very large. There were both modest country nobles and

cosmopolitan grands seigneurs. The middle class included an inordinate number of lawyers, offi ceholders, and bureaucrats. The country was less commercial than

Holland or England, yet in sheer numbers there may have been more merchants in France

than in either of the other two countries. Protestants were a declining minority, yet in the

mid-seventeenth century there were still more French Huguenots than Dutch Calvinists.

It was a self-suffi cient country, yet the French in this century began trading in India and

Madagascar, founded colonial settlements in Canada, penetrated the Great Lakes and the

Mississippi Valley, set up sugar plantations in the West Indies, expanded their ancient

commerce with the Levant, enlarged their mercantile marine, and for a time had the lead-

ing navy of Europe. France, in short, became a highly active participant in the widening

networks of global trade and European colonization.

The dominance of France meant the dominance not merely of power but of a people

whom most Europeans viewed as the forefront of seventeenth-century civilization. They

carried over the versatility of the Italy of the Renaissance. In Nicholas Poussin and Claude

Lorrain they produced a notable school of painters, their architecture was emulated

throughout Europe, and they excelled in military fortifi cation and engineering. Much of

their literature, though often written by bourgeois writers, was designed for an aristocratic

and courtly audience, which had put aside the uncouth manners of an earlier day and prided

itself on the refi nement of its tastes and perceptions. Corneille and Racine wrote austere

tragedies on the personal confl icts and social relations of human life. Molière, in his com-

edies, ridiculed bumbling doctors, new-rich bourgeois, and foppish aristocrats, making the

word “marquis” almost a joke in the French language. La Fontaine gave the world his

animal fables, and La Rochefoucauld, in his witty and sardonic maxims, a nobleman’s

candid judgment on human nature. In Descartes the French produced a great mathemati-

cian and scientifi c thinker; in Pascal, a scientist who was also a profound spokesman for

Christianity; in Bayle, the father of modern skeptics. It was French thought and the French

language, not merely the armies of Louis XIV, which in the seventeenth century were

sweeping the European world.

Louis XIV understood that France’s dominant position in Europe required more than

large armies and that a fl ourishing cultural life greatly enhanced the interna-

tional prestige of even the wealthiest or most powerful sovereign state. He

therefore gave generous fi nancial support to his favorite writers and artists,

especially those who produced works for his new palace at Versailles. He

also brought the arts and sciences into the state’s administrative system by

establishing royal academies in which various theorists taught the correct principles for

art, literature, music, dance, and scientifi c knowledge. The favored or offi cial aesthetic

The contradictions of

French society

Patronage of the arts

by Louis XIV

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175

theory in these academies was called classicism, a theory that emphasized order, harmony,

and the artistic achievements of antiquity. Following the example of painters such as Pous-

sin, young artists learned to portray scenes from classical Roman history or mythology

with harmonious and almost geometric precision. The great literary theorist of the day,

Nicolas Boileau, urged writers to emulate the poetic works of ancient writers who had

shown how literature addresses the timeless themes of human knowledge and transcendent

truths rather than the frivolities of daily life. The classicism of French artists and writers

thus fi t comfortably with the Sun King’s appreciation for order, harmony, and hierarchy in

every sphere of social, political, and cultural life.

Yet neither the king nor his offi cial academies could control all of France’s artistic and

intellectual activity. Some literary critics, soon known as the “Moderns,” began to argue

that modern literature and knowledge had in fact surpassed the achievements of antiquity

and that Boileau’s academic writers, soon called the “Ancients,” deferred much too rigidly

to ancient authorities. Meanwhile, other centers of intellectual life emerged

outside the royal academies in the new salons of Paris. Developing rapidly

in the second half of the seventeenth century, the salons became the unoffi -

cial gathering places for Parisian nobles, wealthy professional persons, and

creative writers or artists. They were organized by upper-class women who invited people

into their homes to discuss philosophy, literature, and art—all of which could be debated

Salons

The French playwright Molière often performed in his own plays, including some that were staged at the court of Louis XIV. He is portrayed here as a character in The School for Wives, a popular comedy about confl icts and deceptions in the relations between women and men. (Bridgeman-Giraudon/Art

Resource, NY)

21. The France of Louis XIV, 1643–1715: The Triumph of Absolutism

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Chapter 4 The Growing Power of Western Europe, 1640–1715176

without the formal constraints and solemnity of the academies. The salons attracted criti-

cism and even ridicule from some people in the government and academies, partly because

they were created by energetic women and partly because they fl ourished outside the offi -

cial cultural institutions of the state. But the Parisian salons, like the royal academies,

became an enduring, distinctive institution in French cultural life. They also welcomed

distinguished foreign visitors, thus contributing to the spread of French ideas and social

mores throughout Europe. Parisian-style salons eventually appeared in other European

cities, along with French fashion, French manners, and the French language.

The Development of Absolutism in France

This ascendancy of French culture went along with a regime in which political liberties

were at a discount. The culture embellished what historians have often called the “absolute

monarchy” of Louis XIV, though the king’s power was never as far-reaching as the term

“absolutism” suggests. The Sun King had to secure the cooperation of the nobility and

other social classes; and his power was constrained in various ways by regional institutions,

French legal traditions, and a fragmented system of local economies. Like other European

countries, France had a tradition of political rights and liberties that were associated with

older, even feudal, political and legal institutions. It had an Estates General, which had

not met since 1615 but was not legally abolished. In some regions Provin-

cial Estates, still meeting frequently, retained a measure of self-government

and of power over taxation. There were about a dozen bodies known as

parlements, 1 which, unlike the English Parliament, had developed as courts

of law, each being the supreme court for a certain area of the country. The parlements

upheld certain “fundamental laws” that they said the king could not overstep, and they often

refused to enforce royal edicts that they declared to be unconstitutional. France, beneath

the surface, was almost as diverse as Germany (see map, p. 184). French towns had won

charters of acknowledged rights, and many of the great provinces enjoyed liberties written

into old agreements with the crown. These local liberties created institutional complications

for a would-be “absolute” monarch. There were some 300 “customs” or regional systems of

law; it was observed that travelers sometimes changed laws more often than they changed

horses. Internal tariffs ran along the old provincial borders. Tolls were levied by manorial

lords. The king’s taxes fell less heavily on some regions than on others. Neither coinage

nor weights and measures were uniform throughout the country. France was a bundle of

territories held together by allegiance to the king.

This older kind of feudal freedom discredited itself in France at the very time when in

Germany a neo-feudal localism was pulling the Holy Roman Empire to pieces, and when

in England the older feudal liberties were making a transition to a more modern form of

political liberty, embodied in the parliamentary though aristocratic state. In France the old

medieval or local type of liberty became associated with disorder. It has already been

related how after the disorders of the sixteenth-century religious wars people had turned

with relief to the monarchy and how Henry IV and then Richelieu had begun to make the

monarchy strong. The troubles of the Fronde, beginning in 1648, provided

additional incentive for the centralization of political power in France.

The Fronde broke out immediately after the Peace of Westphalia, while

Louis XIV was still a child, and was directed against Cardinal Mazarin, who

The “parlements”

The Fronde

1 Spelled parlements in French, to distinguish from the English Parliament.

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177

was governing in his name. It was an abortive revolution, led by the same elements, the

parlements and the nobility, which were to initiate the great French Revolution in 1789. The

parlements, especially the Parlement of Paris, insisted in 1648 on their right to pronounce

certain royal edicts unconstitutional. Barricades were thrown up and street fi ghting broke

out in Paris. The nobility rebelled, as it had often in the past. Leadership was assumed

by certain prominent noblemen who had enough wealth and infl uence to believe that, if

the king’s power were contained, they might govern the country themselves. The nobility

demanded a calling of the Estates General, expecting to dominate over the bourgeoisie and

the clergy in that body. Armed bands of soldiers, unemployed since the Peace of Westphalia

and led by nobles, roamed about the country terrorizing the peasants. If the nobles had their

way, it was probable that the manorial system would fall on the peasants more heavily, as

in eastern Europe, where triumphant lords were at this very time exacting increased labor

services from the peasants. Finally the rebellious nobles called in Spanish troops to bol-

ster their uprising, though France was still at war with Spain. By this time the bourgeoisie,

INSPIRATION OF THE EPIC POET by Nicolas Poussin (French, 1594–1665)

Poussin’s interest in both the themes and forms of classicism appear in this image of a poet who yearns for the honor of a laurel crown as he meditates on the Greek god Apollo (with his lyre) and Calliope, the muse of epic poetry. The painting shows the careful symmetry and bal- ance of much seventeenth-century French art. (Scala/Art Resource, NY)

21. The France of Louis XIV, 1643–1715: The Triumph of Absolutism

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Chapter 4 The Growing Power of Western Europe, 1640–1715178

together with the parlements, had withdrawn support from the rebellious nobles. The agi-

tation subsided in total failure. Bourgeoisie and aristocracy could not work together; the

nobles outraged people throughout France by bringing Spanish soldiers into their rebellion;

and the frondeurs, especially after the parlements deserted them, had no base of popular support and no systematic or constructive program, aiming only at the overthrow of the

unpopular Cardinal Mazarin and at obtaining offi ces and favors for themselves.

After the Fronde, as after the religious wars, the bourgeoisie and peasantry of France,

to protect themselves against the claims of the aristocracy, were in a mood to welcome the

exercise of strong power by the kings. And in the young Louis XIV they had a man more

than willing to grasp all the power he could get. Louis, at age 23, on Mazarin’s death in

1661, announced that he would govern the country himself. He was the third king of the

Bourbon line. It was the Bourbon tradition, established by Henry IV and by Richelieu, to

draw the teeth from independent aristocrats, and this was a tradition that Louis XIV now

followed. He was not a man of any transcendent abilities, though he had the capacity, often

found among successful executives, of learning a good deal from conversation with

experts. His education was somewhat limited, having been made purposely easy; but he

had the ability to see and stick to defi nite lines of policy, and he was extremely methodical

and industrious in his daily habits, scrupulously loading himself with administrative

business throughout his reign. He was extremely fond of himself and his position of king-

ship, with an insatiable appetite for admiration and fl attery; he loved magnifi cent display

and elaborate etiquette, though to some extent he simply adopted them as instruments of

policy rather than as a personal whim.

With the reign of Louis XIV the “state” in its modern form took a long step forward.

The state in the abstract has always seemed somewhat theoretical to the English-speaking

world. Let us say, for simplicity, that the state represents a fusion of justice and power. A

sovereign state possesses, within its territory, a monopoly over the administration of justice

and the use of force. Private persons neither pass legal judgments on others nor control pri-

vate armies of their own. For private and unauthorized persons to do so, in an orderly state,

constitutes rebellion. This was in contrast to the older feudal practice, by which feudal lords

maintained manorial courts and led their own followers into battle. Against these feudal

practices Louis XIV energetically worked, though not with complete suc-

cess, claiming to possess in his own person, the sovereign ruler, a monopoly

over the lawmaking processes and the armed forces of the kingdom. This

is the deeper meaning of his reputed boast, L’état, c’est moi— “the state is myself.” In the France of the seventeenth century, divided by classes and by regions, there

was in fact no practical means of consolidating the powers of state except in a shared defer-

ence to one individual.

The state, however, while representing law and order within its borders, has gener-

ally stood in a lawless and disorderly relation to other states, because no higher monopoly

of law and force has existed. Louis XIV, personifying the French state, had no particular

regard for the claims of other states or rulers. He was constantly either at war or preparing

for war with his neighbors. The modern state, indeed, was created by the needs of peace

at home and war abroad. Machinery of government, as devised by Louis XIV and others,

was a means of giving order and security within the territory of the state, and of raising,

supporting, and controlling armies for use against other states.

The idea that law and force within a country should be monopolized by the lawful king

was the essence of the seventeenth-century doctrine of absolutism. Its principal theorist in

the time of Louis XIV was the French bishop Jacques-Bénigne Bossuet, who advanced the

“L’etat, c’est moi”

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179

old Christian teaching that all power comes from God and that all who hold power are

responsible to God for the way they use it. He held that kings were God’s representatives in

the political affairs of earth. Royal power, according to Bossuet, was absolute but not arbi-

trary. The use of power could not be arbitrary because it must be reasonable and just, like the

will of God that it refl ected; but it was absolute in that it was free from dictation by parle-

ments, estates, or other subordinate elements within the country. Law, therefore, was the will

of the sovereign king, so long as it conformed to the higher law that was the will of God.

This doctrine, affi rming the divine right of kings, was popularly held in

France at the time and was taught in the churches. Absolutism and absolute

monarchy became the prevailing concepts of government on much of the

European continent in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. It must be

remembered, however, that these terms referred more to legal theories than to facts. A

ruler, in theory, could be absolute because he was not legally bound by any other persons

or institutions in the country. In reality he became dependent upon a host of advisers and

bureaucrats; he often had to compromise with vested interests; and he could be thwarted

by the sheer weight of local custom or meet resistance from lawyers, ecclesiastics, nobles,

grandees, hereditary offi ceholders, and miscellaneous dignitaries. And the slow pace of

both transportation and communication prevented early modern “absolutist” rulers from

controlling their subjects as quickly or as effi ciently as governments have controlled their

people in modern nation-states.

Government and Administration

Louis XIV’s early and perhaps most important administrative steps assured his tight control

of the army. Armed forces in Europe had long been almost a private enterprise. Specialists

in fi ghting, leading their own troops, worked for governments more or less as they chose,

either in return for money or to pursue political aims of their own. This was especially

common in central Europe, but even in France great noblemen had strong private infl u-

ence over the troops, and in times of disorder nobles led armed retainers about the country.

Colonels were virtually on their own. Provided with a general commission

and with funds by some government, they recruited, trained, and equipped

their own regiments, and likewise fed and supplied them, often by preying

upon bourgeois and peasants in the vicinity. In these circumstances it was

often diffi cult to say on whose side soldiers were fi ghting. It was hard for governments

to set armies into motion and equally hard to make them stop fi ghting, for commanders

fought for their own interests and on their own momentum. War was not a “continuation

of policy”; it was not an act of the state; it easily degenerated, as in the Thirty Years’ War,

into a kind of aimless and perpetual violence.

Louis XIV made war an activity of state. He saw to it that all armed persons in France

fought only for him. This produced peace and order within France, while strengthening the

fi ghting power of France against other states. Under the older conditions there was also

little integration among different units and branches of the army. Infantry regiments and

cavalry went largely their own way, and the artillery was supplied by civilian technicians

under contract. Louis XIV created a stronger unity of control, put the artillery organically

into the army, systematized the military ranks and grades, and clarifi ed the chain of com-

mand, placing himself at the top. The government supervised recruiting, required colonels

to prove that they were maintaining the proper number of soldiers, and assumed most of

the responsibility for equipping, provisioning, clothing, and housing the troops. Higher

Absolutism

War: a state activity

21. The France of Louis XIV, 1643–1715: The Triumph of Absolutism

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Chapter 4 The Growing Power of Western Europe, 1640–1715180

offi cers, thus becoming dependent on the government, could be subjected to discipline.

The soldiers were put into uniforms, taught to march in step, and housed in barracks; thus

they too became more susceptible to discipline and control.

Armed forces became less of a terror to their own people and a more effective weapon

in the hands of government. They were employed usually against other governments but

sometimes to suppress rebellion at home. Louis XIV also increased the French army in

size, raising it from about 100,000 to about 400,000. These changes, both in size and in

degree of government control, were made possible by the growth of a large civilian admin-

istration, the heads of which were also civilians under the control of Louis XIV. They were

in effect the fi rst ministers of war, and their assistants, offi cials, inspectors, and clerks

constituted the fi rst organized war ministry.

Louis XIV was a vain man, but he connected his vanity to a broader political strategy

to overawe the country with his own grandeur. He built himself a whole new city at the

old village of Versailles about 10 miles southwest of Paris. Where the Escorial in Spain

had the atmosphere of a monastery, Versailles was a monument to worldly

splendor. Tremendous in size, fi tted out with polished mirrors, gleaming

chandeliers, and magnifi cent tapestries, opening on to a formal park with

fountains and shaded walks, the palace of Versailles became the marvel of

Europe and the envy of lesser kings. It was virtually a public building,

much of it used for government offi ces, with nobles, churchmen, notable bourgeois, and

servants milling about on the king’s affairs. The more exclusive honors of the château

were reserved for the higher nobles. The king surrounded his daily routine of rising, eat-

ing, and going to bed (known as the lever, dîner, and coucher ) with an infi nite series of ceremonial acts, so minute and so formalized that there were, for example, six different

The splendor of

Versailles

LOUIS XIV by Hyacinthe Rigaud (French, 1659–1743)

The grandeur of the Sun King is con- veyed in this portrait by Rigaud. He uses the king’s clothing, stance, and royal emblems to express the power of the French monarchy. (Scala/Art Resource, NY)

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181

entries of persons at the lever, and a certain gentleman at a specifi ed moment held the right sleeve of the king’s nightshirt as he took it off. The most exalted persons thought

themselves the greater for thus waiting on so august a being. With such honors, and by

more material favors, many great nobles were induced to live habitually at court. Here,

under the royal eye, they might engage in palace intrigue but were kept away

from real political agitation in the provinces. Versailles had a debilitating effect on the

French aristocracy.

For most positions in the government, as distinguished from his personal entourage,

Louis XIV preferred to use men whose upper-class status was recent. Such men, unlike

hereditary nobles, could aspire to no independent political infl uence of their own. He never

called the Estates General, which in any case no one except some of the nobility wanted.

Some of the Provincial Estates, because of local and aristocratic pressures, were allowed

to remain functioning. He temporarily destroyed the independence of the parlements,

commanding them to accept his orders, as Henry IV had commanded them to accept the

Edict of Nantes. He developed a strong system of administrative coordination, centering

in a number of councils of state, which he attended in person, and in “intendants” who

represented these councils throughout the country. Councilors of state and the intendants

in provincial districts were generally of bourgeois origin or newly ennobled. Each inten-

dant, within his district, embodied all aspects of the royal government—

supervising the fl ow of taxes and recruiting of soldiers, keeping an eye on

the local nobility, dealing with towns and guilds, controlling the more or

less hereditary offi ceholders, policing the marketplaces, relieving famine,

watching and often participating in the local law courts. A fi rm and uniform

administration was superimposed upon the heterogeneous mass of the old France. In con-

trast to England, many local questions were handled by agents of the central government,

usually honest and often effi cient, but essentially bureaucrats constantly instructed by, and

reporting back to, their superiors at Versailles.

Economic and Financial Policies: Colbert

To support the reorganized and enlarged army, the panoply of Versailles, and the grow-

ing civil administration, the king needed a good deal of money. Finance was always the

weak spot in the French monarchy. Methods of collecting taxes were costly

and ineffi cient. Direct taxes passed through the hands of many intermedi-

ate offi cials; indirect taxes were collected by private concessionaries called

tax farmers, who made a substantial profi t. The state always received far

less than what French taxpayers actually paid. But the main weakness arose from an old

bargain between the French crown and nobility; the king might raise taxes without consent

only if he refrained from taxing the nobles. Only the “unprivileged” classes paid direct

taxes, and these came almost to mean the peasants only, because many bourgeois in one

way or another obtained exemptions. The system was outrageously unjust in throwing a

heavy tax burden on the poor and helpless. Louis XIV was willing enough to tax the nobles

but was unwilling to fall under their control, and only toward the close of his reign, under

extreme stress of war, was he able, for the fi rst time in French history, to impose direct

taxes on the aristocratic elements of the population. This was a step toward equality before

the law and toward sound public fi nance, but the nobles and wealthiest bourgeois taxpayers

received numerous concessions and exemptions that greatly reduced the fi nancial value of

the reforms.

Administrative tactics

of Louis XIV

Taxation

21. The France of Louis XIV, 1643–1715: The Triumph of Absolutism

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182

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183

Like his predecessors, Louis resorted to all manner of expedients to increase his rev-

enues. He raised the tax rates, always with disappointing results. He devalued the cur-

rency. He sold patents of nobility to ambitious bourgeois. He sold government offi ces,

judgeships, and commissions in the army and navy. For both fi nancial and political reasons

the king used his sovereign authority to annul the town charters, then sold back reduced

rights at a price; this produced a little income but demoralized local government and civic

spirit. The need for money arose from the fundamental inability to tax the wealthy. This

problem refl ected the weakness and limitations of absolutism because the government’s

refusal to share its rule with the propertied classes corrupted much of French public life

and undermined the political aptitude of the French people.

Louis XIV wished, if only for his own purposes, to make France economically power-

ful. His great fi nance minister Jean-Baptiste Colbert worked for 20 years to do so. Colbert

went beyond Richelieu in the application of mercantilism, aiming to make France a self-

suffi cing economic unit, to expand the export of French goods, and to increase the wealth

from which government income was drawn. There was not much that he could do for

agriculture, the principal industry of the kingdom, which remained less developed than in

England and the Netherlands. But he managed to reduce internal tariffs in a large part of

central France, where he set up a tariff union oddly entitled the Five Great Farms (because

the remaining tolls were collected by tax farmers); and although vested

interests and provincial liberties remained too strong for him to do away

with all internal tariffs, the area of the Five Great Farms was in itself one of

the largest free-trade areas in Europe, being about the size of England.

For the convenience of business Colbert promulgated a Commercial

Code, replacing much of the local customary law with a new model of busi-

ness practice and regulation. He improved communications by building roads

and canals. Working through the guilds, he required the handicraft manufac-

turers to produce goods of specifi ed kind and quality, believing that foreigners, if assured of

quality by the government, would purchase French products. He gave subsidies, tax exemp-

tions, and monopolies to expand the manufacture of silks, tapestries, glassware, and woolens.

Colbert also helped to found colonies, built up the navy, and established the French

East India Company, which soon expanded the French presence in India. During this same

era, the East India Company occupied and began to develop a new Caribbean colony in

Saint-Domingue, a territory on the western side of the island of Hispaniola that Spain

would offi cially cede to France in 1697. Enslaved Africans were taken to Saint-Domingue,

where they became the labor force in a colonial plantation economy that would later pro-

duce very large and profi table shipments of sugar, coffee, and indigo for European mar-

kets. Within France itself, export of some goods, notably foodstuffs, was forbidden, for

the government wished to keep the populace quiet by holding down the price of bread.

The Five Great Farms

Colbert’s Commercial

Code

Thirty thousand workers were employed at one time in the building of the great royal château at Versailles. The seventeenth-century painting by Adam François van der Mueleh (upper) illustrates the complex labor and planning that were required during the process of construc- tion; the lower painting by Pierre Denis Martin dates from the early eighteenth century, and it shows the activity that surrounded Versailles when the king, government ministers, and nobles were assembled in the vast buildings and gardens. The grandeur and scale of these buildings were designed to symbolize the king’s power and to create a sense of awe in the foreign visitors who came to meet Louis XIV or his advisers. (Royal Collection, London) (RMN-Grand Palais/Art Resource, NY)

21. The France of Louis XIV, 1643–1715: The Triumph of Absolutism

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Chapter 4 The Growing Power of Western Europe, 1640–1715184

Export of other goods, mainly manufactures, was encouraged, partly as a means of bring-

ing money into the country, where it could be funneled into the royal treasury. The growth

of the army, and the fact that under Louis XIV the government placed unprecedentedly

large orders for military uniforms, overcoats, weapons, and ammunition, greatly stimu-

lated the employment of weavers, tailors, and gunsmiths and advanced the commercial

capitalism by which such labors were organized. Trade and manufacture thus developed in

France under more direct government guidance than in England; and the French gave the

English an extremely brisk competition throughout the early modern era. Not until the age

of iron and coal did France begin economically to lag.

In general, the system elaborated in the two centuries of Bourbon rule, known in retro-

spect as the Old Regime, was a society in which groups of many kinds could identify their

own special interests with those of the absolute monarchy. But it rested on a precarious incon-

sistency. On the one hand, the royal government, through its intendants and bureaucracy,

FRANCE FROM THE LAST YEARS OF LOUIS XIV TO THE REVOLUTION OF 1789 The map gives an idea of the diversity of law and administration before the Revolution. Dark areas are “pays d’etats,” provinces in which representative bodies (“estates”) continued to meet. Cities named are the seats of what the French called parlements (see p. 176). The key indicates Colbert’s tariff union, the Five Great Farms. The area marked with hatching remained outside the French tariff system entirely; it continued to trade with the states of the Holy Roman Empire (from which it had been annexed) without interference by the French government. Numerals indicate the price of salt, i.e., the varying burden of the salt tax, in vari- ous regions. In general, regions farthest from Paris enjoyed the most “privileges” or “liber- ties,” preserving their legal and judicial identity, Provincial Estates, local tariffs, and a favored position in national taxation.

0 50 100 miles

Pays d'États

Colbert's Tariff Union

Area Remaining Entirely Outside the French Tariff System

Seats of Parlements or Supreme Courts of Law

Numerals indicate the Price of Salt, i.e., the Amount of Salt Tax

8 58

60 27

61 15 61

10

30

25

20

3

7

10

9 7

60

3 60

2

9 30

7

13

AUSTRIAN NETHERLANDS

GERMAN STATES

SWITZER- LAND

ITALY

TO THE POPE

Arras

Metz

Nancy

Colmar

Dijon Besançon

Grenoble

AixToulouse

Perpignan

Pau

Bordeaux

Rennes

Paris

Rouen

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185

worked to restrict the privileges of provinces, nobles, and others. On the other hand, it multi-

plied and protected these and other privileges in its perpetual need for money. The inconsis-

tency was not resolved until the Revolution of 1789, when the principle of equality of rights

would replace the regime of privilege.

Religion: The Revocation of the Edict of Nantes, 1685

The consolidation of France under Louis XIV reached its high point in his policies toward

religion. For the Catholics, Louis backed the old claims of the Gallican church to enjoy

a certain national independence from Rome. He repressed the movement known as

Jansenism, a kind of theological Calvinism within the Catholic church, which persisted for

almost two centuries. Jansenists criticized moral laxity in high places as well as the reli-

gious infl uence of the Jesuits, so there was wide support at Versailles when the king moved

against all the main centers of Jansenist theology. But it was the Protestants who suffered

most in a new wave of religious persecutions.

France, in the early years of Louis XIV’s reign, still allowed more religious toleration

than any other large state in Europe. The Huguenots had lost their separate political status

under Richelieu, but they continued to live in relative security, protected by the Edict of

Nantes of 1598. From the beginning, however, toleration had been a royal rather than a

popular policy, and under Louis XIV the royal policy changed. The fate of Catholics at the

hands of a triumphant Parliament in England suggests that the Protestants in France would

have been no better off under more popular institutions.

Bending all other institutions to his will, Louis XIV resented the presence of heretics

among his subjects. He considered religious unity necessary to the strength and dignity of

his rule. He fell under the infl uence of certain Catholic advisers, who, not

content with the attrition by which some Protestants were turning back to

Catholicism in any case, wished to hasten the process to the greater glory

of themselves. Systematic conversion of Huguenots was begun. Life for

Protestant families was gradually made unbearable. Finally they were literally “dragooned,”

mounted infantrymen being quartered in Huguenot homes to reinforce the persuasions of

missionaries. In 1685 Louis revoked the Edict of Nantes. During the persecutions hundreds

of thousands of Protestants left France, migrating to Holland, Germany, and America. Their

loss was a severe blow to French economic life, for although Protestants were found in all

levels of French society, those of the commercial and industrial classes were the most

mobile. With the revocation of the Edict of Nantes France embarked on a century of offi cial

intolerance (slowly mitigated in practice), under which Protestants in France were in much

the same position as Catholics in the British Isles. The fact that 100 years later, when Prot-

estants were again tolerated, many of them were found to be both commercially prosperous

and politically loyal suggests that they actually fared far better than the Catholic Irish.

All things considered, the reign of Louis XIV brought considerable

advantages to the French middle and lower classes. His most bitter critics,

with the natural exception of Protestants, were disgruntled nobles such as the

duke of Saint-Simon, who thought that he showed too many favors to per-

sons of inferior social rank. Because Protestants were an unpopular minority, his repression

of them won much approval. Colbert’s system of economic regulation, and perpetuation of

the guilds, meant that innovation and private enterprise developed less fully than in England,

but France was economically stronger in 1700 than in 1650. Peasants were heavily taxed to

pay for Louis XIV’s wars, and they suffered through devastating famines after 1690 (also

caused partly by the wars). But they did not sink into the serfdom that was rising in eastern

Louis XIV seeks

religious unity

Accomplishments of

Louis XIV

21. The France of Louis XIV, 1643–1715: The Triumph of Absolutism

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Chapter 4 The Growing Power of Western Europe, 1640–1715186

Europe. Compared to later times, France was still a hodgepodge of competing jurisdic-

tions, special privilege, and bureaucratic ineptitude. The king was in truth far from absolute

but France was nevertheless the best organized of the large monarchies on the Continent.

Louis XIV, in turning both high and low into dutiful subjects, may even have advanced the

cause of abstract civil equality. For a long time he was generally popular. What fi nally turned

his people against him in his last years was the strain of his incessant wars.

22. THE WARS OF LOUIS XIV: THE PEACE OF UTRECHT, 1713

Before 1700

From the outset of his reign Louis pursued a vigorous foreign policy. The quarrel between

the house of France and the house of Habsburg had gone on for more than a century. When

Louis XIV assumed his personal rule in 1661, Spanish territories still faced France on

three sides (northeast, east, and south), but Spain was so weakened that this fact was no

longer a menace to France; indeed, the surrounding Spanish territories were now a tempta-

tion to French expansion. Louis XIV could count on popular support in France, for the

dream of a frontier on the Rhine and the Alps was captivating to Frenchmen. He struck fi rst

in 1667 by sending a large army into the Spanish Netherlands. He was blocked, as noted

The systematic repression of French Huguenots after 1685 was widely condemned in Protes- tant countries. Images such as this gruesome depiction of torture contributed to the interna- tional hostility for Louis XIV and to the foreign acceptance of French refugees who scattered into Protestant states throughout Europe and North America. (De Agostini/Getty Images)

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18722. The Wars of Louis XIV: The Peace of Utrecht, 1713

earlier, by the Triple Alliance of the Dutch, the English, and the Swedes. With strength

renewed by reforms at home, and in alliance now with Charles II of England, he struck

again in 1672 (the “Dutch War”), invading the Dutch provinces on the lower Rhine, and

this time raising up against him his great adversary, the prince of Orange. William III,

bringing the Austrian and Spanish Habsburgs, Brandenburg, and Denmark into alliance

with the Dutch Republic, forced Louis to sign the treaty of Nimwegen in 1678. The French

gave up their ambitions against Holland but took from Spain the rich prov-

ince of Franche-Comté, which outfl anked Alsace on the south and brought

French power to the borders of Switzerland (see map, p. 149).

In the very next year, Louis further infi ltrated the dissolving frontier of

the Holy Roman Empire, this time in Lorraine and Alsace. By the Peace of

Westphalia the French king had rights in this region, but the terms of that

treaty were so ambiguous, and the local feudal law so confusing, that claims could be made

in contrary directions. In 1681 French troops occupied the city of Strasbourg, which, as a

free city of the Holy Roman Empire, regarded itself as an independent little republic. A

protest went up throughout Germany against this undeclared invasion. But Germany was

not a political unity. Since 1648 each German state conducted its own foreign policy, and at

this very moment, in 1681, Louis XIV had an ally in the Elector of Brandenburg (forerun-

ner of the kings of Prussia). The diet of the Holy Roman Empire was divided between an

anti-French and a pro-French party. The emperor, Leopold I, was distracted by develop-

ments in the East. The Hungarians, incited and fi nanced by Louis XIV, were again rebelling

against the Habsburgs. They appealed to the Ottoman Turks, and Ottoman forces in 1683

moved up the Danube and besieged Vienna. Louis XIV, if he did not on this occasion posi-

tively assist the Turks, ostentatiously declined to join the proposed crusade against them.

The emperor, with Polish assistance, was able to push the Ottoman army out of Austria.

Returning to his western problems and observing the western border of the empire crum-

bling, Franche-Comté already lost, the Spanish Netherlands threatened, and Lorraine and

Alsace absorbed bit by bit, the Emperor Leopold gathered the Catholic powers into a com-

bination against the French. The Protestant states at the same time, aroused by the French

revocation of the Edict of Nantes in 1685 and by Huguenot émigrés who called down the

wrath of God on the perfi dious Sun King, began to ally the more readily with William of

Orange. Catholic and Protestant enemies of Louis XIV thus came together in 1686 in the

League of Augsburg, which comprised the Holy Roman Emperor, the kings of Spain and of

Sweden, the electors of Bavaria, Saxony, and the Palatinate, and the Dutch Republic. In

1686 the king of England was still a protégé of France, but three years later, when William

became king in England, that country too joined the League.

The War of the League of Augsburg began in 1688. The French armies

won battles but could not drive so many enemies from the fi eld. The French

navy could not overpower the combined fl eets of the Dutch and English.

Louis XIV found himself badly strained (it was at this time that he fi rst

imposed direct taxes on the French nobles) and fi nally made peace at

Ryswick in the Netherlands in 1697, leaving matters about where they had been when the

war began.

In all the warring and negotiating the question had not been merely the fate of this or

that piece of territory, nor even the French thrust to the east, but the eventual disposition of

the whole empire of Spain. The Spanish king, Charles II, prematurely senile, momentarily

expected to die, yet lived on year after year. He was still alive at the time of the Peace of

Ryswick. The greatest diplomatic issue of the day was still unsettled.

French incursions

into the Holy Roman

Empire

The War of the

League of Augsburg

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Chapter 4 The Growing Power of Western Europe, 1640–1715188

The War of the Spanish Succession

The War of the Spanish Succession lasted 11 years, from 1702 to 1713. It was less destruc-

tive than the Thirty Years’ War, for armies were now supplied in more orderly fashion,

subject to more orderly discipline and command, and could be stopped from fi ghting at the

will of their governments. Except for the effects of civil war in Spain and of deadly famines

in France, the civilian populations were generally spared from violence and destruction. In

this respect the war foreshadowed the typical warfare of the eighteenth century, fought by

professional armies rather than by whole peoples. Among wars of the largest scale, the War

of the Spanish Succession was the fi rst in which religion counted for little, the fi rst in which

commerce and sea power were the principal stakes, and the fi rst in which English money

was liberally used in Continental politics. It was also the fi rst that can be called a “world

war,” because it involved the overseas world together with the leading powers of Europe.

Wars within Europe were becoming linked to the global competition for colonies and trade.

The struggle had long been foreseen. The two main aspirants to the Spanish inheri-

tance were the king of France and the Holy Roman Emperor. Each had married a sister of

the perpetually moribund Charles II, and each could hope to place a younger member of his

family on the throne of Spain. During the last decades of the seventeenth century the pow-

ers had made various treaties agreeing to “partition” the Spanish possessions. The idea

was, by dividing the Spanish heritage between the two claimants, to preserve the balance of

power in Europe. But when Charles II fi nally died in 1700, it was found that he had made a

will, which stipulated that the empire of Spain should be kept intact, that all Spanish terri-

tories throughout the world should go to the grandson of Louis XIV, and that if Louis XIV

refused to accept in the name of his 17-year-old grandson, the entire inheritance should

pass to the son of the Habsburg emperor in Vienna. Louis XIV decided to

accept. With Bourbons reigning in Versailles and Madrid, even if the two

thrones were never united, French infl uence would now run from Belgium

to the Straits of Gibraltar, and from Milan to Mexico and Manila. At Ver-

sailles the word went out: “The Pyrenees exist no longer.”

Never, at least in almost two centuries, had the political balance within

Europe been so threatened. Never had the other states faced such a pros-

pect of relegation to the sidelines. William III acted at once; he gathered

the stunned or hesitant diplomats into the last of his coalitions, the Grand

Alliance of 1701. Although he died the next year, before hostilities began, and with Louis

XIV at the seeming apex of his grandeur, William had in fact launched the engine that was

to crush the Sun King. The Grand Alliance included England, Holland, and the Austrian

emperor, supported by Brandenburg and eventually by Portugal and the Italian duchy of

Savoy. Louis XIV could count on Spain, which was generally loyal to the late king’s will.

Otherwise his only ally was Bavaria, whose rivalry with Austria made it a habitual satel-

lite of France. The Bavarian alliance gave the French armies an advanced position toward

Vienna and maintained that internal division within Germany that was fundamental to the

politics of the time, and of a long time to come.

The war was long, mainly because each side no sooner gained a temporary advantage

than it raised its demands on the other. The English, though they sent relatively few troops

to the Continent, produced in John Churchill, Duke of Marlborough, a preeminent military

commander for the Allied forces. The Austrians were led by Prince Eugene of Savoy. The

Allies won notable battles at Blenheim in Bavaria (1704), and at Ramillies (1706), Oude-

narde (1708), and Malplaquet (1709) in the Spanish Netherlands. The French were routed;

“The Pyrenees exist

no longer”

Threats to political

balance

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189

Louis XIV asked for peace but then would not agree to a treaty because the Allied terms

were so enormous. Louis fought to hold the two crowns, to conquer Belgium, to get French

merchants into Spanish America, and at the worst in self-defense. After minor successes in

1710 he again insisted on controlling the crown of Spain. The Spanish fought to uphold

the will of the deceased king, the unity of the Spanish possessions, and even the integrity

of Spain itself—for the English moved in at Gibraltar and made a menacing treaty with

Portugal. Meanwhile, the Austrians landed at Barcelona and invaded Catalonia, which (as

in 1640) again rose in rebellion, recognizing the Austrian claimant, so that

all Spain fell into civil war.

The Austrians fought to keep Spain in the Habsburg family, to

crush Bavaria, and to carry Austrian infl uence across the Alps into Italy.

The Dutch fought as always for their security, to keep the French out of

Belgium, and to control access to the river Scheldt. The English fought for these same rea-

sons and also to keep the French-supported Catholic Stuarts out of England and preserve

the Revolution of 1688. It was to be expected that the Stuarts, if they returned, would ruin

the Bank of England and repudiate the national debt. Both maritime powers, England and

Holland, fought to keep French merchants out of Spanish America and to advance their

own commercial position in America and the Mediterranean. These war aims made the

Whigs the implacable war party in England, whereas the vaguely pro-Stuart and anticom-

mercial Tories were quite willing to make peace at an early date. As for the minor allies,

Brandenburg and Savoy, their rulers had simply entered the alliance to gain such advan-

tages as might turn up.

The Peace of Utrecht

Peace was fi nally made at the treaties of Utrecht and Rastatt of 1713 and

1714. The treaty of Utrecht, with its allied instruments, in fact partitioned

the world of Spain. But it did not divide it between the two legal claimants

only. The British remained at Gibraltar, to the great irritation of the Span-

iards, and likewise annexed the island of Minorca. The Duke of Savoy eventually gained

the former Spanish island of Sardinia in return for his contribution to the Allied cause.

The rest of the Spanish Mediterranean holdings—Milan, Naples, and Sicily—passed to the

Austrian Habsburgs, as did the Spanish Netherlands (or Belgium), subsequently referred to

as the Austrian Netherlands. In Spain itself, shorn of its European possessions but retain-

ing America, the grandson of Louis XIV was confi rmed as king (Philip V of Spain), on the

understanding that the French and Spanish thrones should never be inherited by the same

person. The Bourbons reigned in Spain, with interruptions, from Philip V to the republican

revolution of 1931. French infl uence was strong in the eighteenth century, for a good many

French courtiers, advisers, administrators, and merchants crossed the Pyrenees with Philip

V. They helped somewhat to revive the Spanish monarchy by applying the methods of

Louis XIV, and they passed a swelling volume of French manufactures through Seville

into Spanish America.

The old objective of William III, to prevent domination by France, was

realized at last. The war itself was the main cause of French loss of strength.

It produced poverty, misery, and depopulation, and it exposed Louis XIV

to severe criticism at home. Recurring famines and tax increases provoked

peasant uprisings, which were brutally repressed. Dissatisfaction with the war led also to

a revival of aristocratic and parliamentary opposition. By the peace treaties the French

Motives of the

warring states

The partition of

Spain’s holdings

Consequences of the

war for France

22. The Wars of Louis XIV: The Peace of Utrecht, 1713

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Chapter 4 The Growing Power of Western Europe, 1640–1715190

abandoned, for the time being, their efforts to conquer Belgium. They ceased to recog-

nize the Stuart pretender as king of Great Britain. They surrendered to the British two

of their colonies, Newfoundland and Nova Scotia (called Acadia), and recognized British

sovereignty in the disputed American Northwest, known as the Hudson Bay territory. But

the French were only checked, not downed. They retained the conquests of Louis XIV in

Alsace and the Franche-Comté. Their infl uence was strong in Spain. Their deeper strength

and capacity for recovery were soon evident in renewed economic expansion. Their

language and civilization continued to spread throughout Europe.

The Dutch received guarantees of their security. They were granted the right to garri-

son the “Dutch Barrier,” a string of forts in Belgium on the side toward France. But the

Dutch, strained by the war and outdistanced by England, never again played a primary role

in European political affairs. Two other small states ascended over the diplomatic horizon,

Savoy (or Piedmont) and Brandenburg. The rulers of both, for having sided with the

The battle of Blenheim, fought in Bavaria in 1704, was a great victory for the English and the Allied forces that joined to oppose the French in the War of the Spanish Succession. Blenheim brought fame and honors to the British commander, John Churchill, Duke of Marlborough; for the French, it was the fi rst in a series of devastating military defeats that steadily weakened the power of Louis XIV. (Fotomas Index/Bridgeman Art Library)

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191

victors, were recognized as “kings” by the treaty of Utrecht. Savoy came to be known as

“Sardinia,” and Brandenburg as “Prussia.” More will be said of Prussia in the next

chapter.

The greatest winners were the British. Great Britain made its appear-

ance as a great power. The union of England and Scotland had taken place

during the war. Based at Gibraltar and Minorca, Britain was now a power

in the Mediterranean. Belgium, the “pistol pointed at the heart of England,”

was in the innocuous hands of the Austrians. The British added to their American hold-

ings, but far more valuable than Newfoundland and Nova Scotia was the asiento extorted from Spain. The asiento granted the lucrative privilege (which the French had sought) of providing Spanish America with African slaves. Much of the wealth of Bristol and

Liverpool in the following decades was to be built upon the slave trade. The asiento, by permitting one shipload of British goods to be brought each year to Porto Bello in Panama,

also provided opportunities for illicit trade in nonhuman cargoes.

The Spanish Empire was pried open, and British merchants entered on an era of

wholesale smuggling into Spanish America, competing strenuously with the French, who

because of their favored position in Spain were usually able to go through more legal

channels. Moreover, the British, by defeating France, assured themselves of a line of

Protestant kings and of the maintenance of constitutional and parliamentary government.

Britain becomes a

great power

PEASANT FAMILY IN A ROOM by Louis Le Nain (French, 1593–1648)

Although Le Nain portrayed a family in the fi rst half of the seventeenth century, the people in this painting do not differ much from the peasants who later suffered through wars, famines, and tax increases in the last decades of the long reign of Louis XIV. (Erich Lessing/Art Resource, NY)

22. The Wars of Louis XIV: The Peace of Utrecht, 1713

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Chapter 4 The Growing Power of Western Europe, 1640–1715192

THE ATLANTIC WORLD AFTER THE PEACE OF UTRECHT, 1713 The map shows the partitioning of the Spanish Empire and the rise of the British. Spain and its American possessions went to the Bourbon Philip V; the European possessions of Spain—the Netherlands, Milan, Naples, and Sicily—went to the Austrian Habsburgs. Britain meanwhile was strengthened by the union of England and Scotland, the acquisition of Minorca, Gibraltar, and the commercial privilege of the “asiento” from Spain, and of Newfoundland and Nova Scotia from France. The French, for their part, had taken control of rich, Caribbean lands in Saint-Domingue (Santo Domingo) through an earlier treaty with Spain.

Britain

France

Portugal

Spain

Colonial Powers

A T L A N T I C O C E A N

HUDSON’S BAY

N E W F R A N C E

PORTUGAL

GUIANA

SPAIN

FRANCE

GREAT BRITAIN Formed in 1707 by union of England and Scotland

FLORIDA (Spain)

PRUSSIA

OTTOMAN EMPIRE

GUELDERLAND (Prussia 1714)

RUSSIA

SWEDEN

TO AUSTRIAN HABSBURGS 1714–1720

Spanish Netherlands, Sicily, Naples & Milan

MEXICO

LOUISIANA

NEW GRANADA

A F R I C A

ANGOLA

GUINEA

SP. NETH.

NAPLES

MILAN

SICILY

CANARY I. (Spain)

CAPE VERDE I. (Port.)

AZORES (Port.)

PERU B R A Z I L

CUBA

SANTO DOMINGO (France 1697)

NEWFOUNDLAND (France to Britain, 1713)

NOVA SCOTIA (Acadia) (France to Britain, 1713)

JAMAICA (Britain

1670) LESSER ANTILLES (British and French since about 1630)

(Dutch)

(Dutch)

(French)

AS IEN

TO

(Sp . to

Br. 171

3)

S L A V

E S

SARDINIA (Savoy, 1714, 1720)

M

INORCA (Spain to Britain, 1713)

GIBRALTAR (Spain to Britain, 1713)

Porto Bello

(Dutch)

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193

The ratifi cation of the Peace of Utrecht actually marked a further step in the evolution

of English constitutional history. The Whigs, who were the main supporters of the war

with France, thought the treaty insuffi ciently favorable to England. The Tories, pledged

to peace, had won the House of Commons in 1710, but the Whigs continued to control

the House of Lords. Queen Anne, at the request of Tory leaders and in the interests of

peace, raised 12 Tory commoners to the peerage in order to create a Tory majority in the

Lords and hence to obtain ratifi cation of the treaty. This established itself as a precedent;

it became an unwritten article of the British constitution that when the Lords blocked the

Commons on an important issue, the monarch could create enough new lords to make a

new majority in that House. After 1713, the Lords never again allowed themselves to be

swamped by newcomers and thus acceded in all future disputes to the will of the Com-

mons. The landed aristocracy and their merchant allies could now govern as they saw fi t.

The result was a rapid increase of wealth in England, precipitating within a few genera-

tions a veritable Industrial Revolution.

Except for the addition of England, the same powers were parties to the treaty of

Utrecht in 1713 as to the Peace of Westphalia in 1648, and they now confi rmed the system

of international relations established by Westphalia. The powers accepted each other as

members of the European system; recognized each other as sovereign states

connected only by free negotiation, war, and treaty; and adjusted their dif-

ferences through rather facile exchanges of territory, made in the interests

of a balance of power, and without regard to the nationality or presumed

wishes of the peoples affected. With Germany still in its “feudal chaos,”

Italy divided into minor states or controlled by foreign kings, and Spain subordinated to

France, the treaty of Utrecht left France and Great Britain as the two most vigorous impe-

rial powers of Europe. These countries soon became the two principal carriers and export-

ers of the European civilization that would spread its empires, institutions, and ideas

throughout much of the modern world. In the next chapter we look at how the societies of

central and eastern Europe, developed along lines of their own, even when they were

strongly infl uenced by the growing power and wealth of the western European states.

Confi rmation of the

European system

For suggested further readings and useful Web sites, interactive exercises, glossary, chronologies,

and more, go to the Online Learning Center at www.mhhe.com/palmerhistory11e.

22. The Wars of Louis XIV: The Peace of Utrecht, 1713

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195

C h a p t e r 5 THE

TRANSFORMATION

OF EASTERN EUROPE,

1648–1740

In eastern Europe,  in the century after the Peace of Westphalia of 1648, it became apparent that political

systems that failed to become more “modern” might

be in danger of going out of existence. In the mid-

seventeenth century most parts of eastern Europe

belonged to one or another of three older, decen-

tralized political organizations—the Holy Roman

Empire, the Republic of Poland, and the empire of

the Ottoman Turks (see maps, pp. 199, 200). All three

were loosely organized and increasingly ineffective.

They were challenged and gradually superseded by

three new and stronger powers—Prussia, Austria, and Russia. These three, by overrunning

the intermediate ground of Poland, came to adjoin one another and cover all eastern Europe

except the Balkans, which remained within the Ottoman Empire. It was in this same period

that Russia expanded territorially, adopted some of the technical and administrative apparatus

of western Europe, and became an active participant in European affairs.

East and West are of course relative terms. For the Russians Germany and even Poland

were “western.” But for Europe as a whole a signifi cant though indefi nite social and

economic line ran roughly along the Elbe and the Bohemian Mountains to the head of the

Adriatic Sea. East of this line towns were fewer than in the West, human labor was less

productive, and the middle classes were less strong. Above all, the peasants were governed

by their landlords. From the sixteenth to the eighteenth century, in eastern Europe in

contrast to what happened in the West, the peasants increasingly lost many of their older,

feudal-type rights and freedoms. The commercial revolution and widening of the market

created a strong merchant class in western Europe and tended to turn working people into a

legally free and mobile labor force. In eastern Europe these changes strengthened the great

landlords who produced for export and who secured their labor force by the institutions of

23. Three Aging Empires

24. The Formation of an

Austrian Monarchy

25. The Formation

of Prussia

26. The Transformation

of Russia

Chapter emblem: Russian workers building the new city of St. Petersburg during the reign of Tsar Peter I (1689–1725).

(Bettmann/Corbis)

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Chapter 5 The Transformation of Eastern Europe, 1648–1740196

serfdom and “hereditary subjection.” The main social unit was the agricultural estate. The

lord exploited his estate with uncompensated compulsory labor (or robot ) furnished by his people, who could neither migrate, marry, nor learn a trade except as he permitted, and

who, until the eighteenth century, had no legal protector or court of appeal other than him-

self. In the East, therefore, the landlords were exceedingly powerful. They were the only

signifi cant political class. And the three new states that grew up during this era—Prussia,

Austria, Russia—were alike in being landlord states.

23. THREE AGING EMPIRES

In 1648 the whole mainland of Europe from the French border almost to Moscow was

occupied by the three large and loosely built structures that have been mentioned—the

Holy Roman Empire, the Republic of Poland, and the empire of the Ottoman Turks. The

Ottoman power reached deeply into Europe, to about 50 miles from Vienna, and it extended

over what is now Romania and over the Tartars on the north shore of the Black Sea. Even

so, its European holdings were but a projection from the main mass of the Ottoman Empire

in Asia and Africa. Poland extended from roughly 100 miles east of Berlin to a hundred

miles west of Moscow and virtually from “sea to sea” in the old phrase of its patriots, from

the Baltic around Riga almost to the Black Sea coast. The Holy Roman Empire extended

from Poland and Hungary to the North Sea.

These three empires were by no means alike. The Holy Roman Empire bore some

of the oldest traditions of Christendom. Poland too had old connections with western

Europe and Christian religious institutions. Ottoman Turkey was a Muslim power, closely

connected to the Islamic civilization of the Middle East and fi lled with

peoples who generally lived outside European cultural traditions (despite a

long history of Mediterranean trade and commerce). Yet in some ways the

three resembled each other. In all of them central authority had become weak,

consisting largely of understandings between a nominal head and outlying

dignitaries or potentates. All lacked effi cient systems of administration and government.

All faced challenges from the newer, centralizing states that were now developing in coun-

tries such as France. All, but especially Poland and the Ottoman Empire, were made up of

diverse ethnic or language groups. The whole immense area was therefore politically weak.

It was malleable in the hands of kings or ruling elites who might become a little stronger

than their neighbors. We must try to see in what this weakness consisted, and how newer,

stronger state forms were created.

The Holy Roman Empire after 1648

The Holy Roman Empire, especially after the Peace of Westphalia, lacked almost all the

resources of a functioning imperial system. It possessed no real army, revenues, or working

organs of a central government; and as Voltaire later observed, it was neither holy, nor

Roman, nor an empire. Created in the Middle Ages, it was Roman in that it was believed to

continue the imperial sway of ancient Rome, and it was holy in being the secular counter-

part to the spiritual empire of the pope. It had been ruined by the Reformation, which left

the Germans divided almost evenly between Protestant and Catholic, with each side there-

after demanding special safeguards against the other. The empire continued, however, to be

universal in principle, having no relation to nationality and theoretically being a form of

government suitable to all peoples, although it had never lived up to this theoretical claim

Weaknesses of the

empires

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19723. Three Aging Empires

and had shown no expansionist tendency since the Middle Ages. In actuality, the empire

was roughly coterminous with the German states and the region of the German language,

except that it excluded after 1648 the Dutch and Swiss, who no longer considered them-

selves German; and it likewise excluded those Germans who since the fourteenth century

had settled along the eastern shores of the Baltic.

Large parts of the empire had suffered repeatedly from the Thirty Years’

War. Yet the war, and the peace terms that followed it, only accentuated an

economic situation that had already become unfavorable. Postwar revival

was diffi cult; the breakup of commercial connections and the wartime losses

of savings and capital were hard to overcome. Germany fell increasingly out

of step with the economic expansion and cultural changes in western Europe. The burgher

class, its ambitions blocked, lost much of its old vitality. No overseas colonies could be

founded, for want of strong enough government backing, as was shown when a colonial

venture of Brandenburg came to nothing. There were no stock exchanges in German cities

until one was established at Vienna in 1771, half a century after those of London, Paris, and

Amsterdam. Laws, tariffs, tolls, and coinage were more diverse than in France. Even the

calendar varied. It varied, indeed, throughout Europe as a whole, because Protestant states

long declined to accept the corrected calendar issued by Pope Gregory XIII in 1582; in parts

of divided Germany the holidays, the date of the month, and the day of the week changed

every few miles. The arts and letters, fl ourishing in western Europe as never before, were

at a low ebb in Germany during the seventeenth century. In science the Germans during

and after the Thirty Years’ War accomplished less than the English, Dutch, French, or

Italians, despite the great mathematician and philosopher Gottfried Wilhelm Leibniz, one

of the infl uential intellectual leaders of the age. Only in music, in the work of performers

and composers such as the Bach family, did the Germans at this time excel. But music was

not then much heard beyond the place of its origin. Germany was thus mostly a byway in

the new creative arts and culture of seventeenth-century Europe.

After the Thirty Years’ War each German state had sovereign rights. These “states”

numbered some 300 or 2,000, depending on how they were counted. The higher fi gure

included the “knights of the empire,” found in south Germany and the Rhineland. They

were persons who acknowledged no overlordship except that of the emperor himself. The

knights had tiny estates of their own, averaging not over 100 acres apiece, consisting of an

“independent” castle and a manor or two, completely enclosed by the territory of a larger

surrounding state. But even without the knights there were about 300 states capable of

some independence of action—free cities, abbots without subjects, archbishops and bish-

ops ruling with temporal power, landgraves, margraves and dukes, and one king, the king

of Bohemia.

All these states were intent on preserving what were called the

“Germanic liberties.” They were gladly assisted by outside powers, notably

but not exclusively France. The Germanic liberties meant freedom of the

member states from control by emperor or empire. The rulers of the most

important states within the empire elected the emperor (there were nine electors by the end

of the seventeenth century), and they always required the successful candidate to accept

certain “capitulations,” in which he promised to safeguard all the privileges and immuni-

ties of the states. The Habsburgs, though consistently elected after 1438, had none of the

advantages of hereditary rulers, each having to bargain away in turn any gains made by his

predecessor. The elective principle meant that imperial power could not be accumulated and

transmitted from one generation to the next. It opened the doors to foreign intrigue, because

Effects of the Thirty

Year’s War

The “Germanic

liberties”

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Chapter 5 The Transformation of Eastern Europe, 1648–1740198

the electors were willing to consider whichever candidate would promise them most. The

French repeatedly supported a rival candidate to the Habsburgs. After 1648 they had sup-

porters in the electoral college, Bavaria and Cologne being the most consistently pro-French.

In 1742 the French obtained the elevation of their Bavarian ally to the imperial throne. The

offi ce of emperor became a political football for Germans and non-Germans alike.

Nor would the German states, after the Thirty Years’ War, allow any authority to the

imperial diet. The diet possessed the power to raise troops and taxes for the whole empire,

but the power remained unused because the various states feared that any such action would

diminish their own authority and independence. Meanwhile, the states that insisted with

such obstinacy on their liberties from the empire gave few liberties to their subjects. The

free cities were closed urban oligarchies, as indeed were most cities in other countries, but in

Germany the burgher oligarchs controlled free cities that were almost like sovereign states.

Most of the other European countries, large or small, developed in the direction of a central-

izing absolutism. Such absolutism was checked for Germany as a whole, only to reappear in

miniature in hundreds of different places. Each ruler thought himself a little Louis XIV, each

court a small Versailles. Subjects became attached by ties of sentiment to their rulers, who

almost always lived in the neighborhood and could be readily seen by passers-by. People

liked the small courts, the small armies, the gossipy politics, and the familiar offi cials of

their tiny states; and despite all its fl aws, the empire had the merit of holding this conglom-

eration of states in a lawful relation to one another. For a century and a half after the Peace of

Westphalia small states existed alongside larger ones, or often totally enclosed within them,

without serious fear for their security and without losing their independence.

Yet there were many ambitious rulers in Germany after the Peace of Westphalia. They

had won recognition of their sovereignty in 1648. They were busily building absolutist

monarchies, and they aspired also to expand their dominions. There were other ways of

doing this than by devouring their smaller neighbors outright. One was by marriage and

inheritance. The empire in this respect was a paradise for fortune hunters; the variety of

possible marriages was enormous because of the great number of ruling families. Another

outlet for ambition lay in the high politics of the empire. The Wittelsbach family, which

ruled in Bavaria, managed to win an electorate in the Thirty Years’War. Using this political

infl uence, they consistently placed family members in prominent ecclesiastical posts

throughout the Rhineland and attracted support from France, which in turn backed them

against the Habsburgs. The Guelph family, ruling in Hanover, schemed for years to obtain

an electorate, which they fi nally extorted from the emperor in 1692; in 1714 they inherited

the throne of Great Britain with King George I, preferred by the British as Protestants

to their Catholic Stuart cousins. The Hohenzollerns, electors of Brandenburg, inherited

territories as far apart as the Rhine and Vistula rivers.

CENTRAL AND EASTERN EUROPE, 1660–1795 The upper panel of this map indicates boundaries as of 1660; the lower panel those of 1795, by which time the Ottoman Empire had been pushed back toward the Balkans and the Republic of Poland had been destroyed by Prussia, Austria, and Russia. Both panels show the evolving social border between the eastern and western agrarian zones, running from the mouth of the Elbe River into central Germany and down to Trieste. East of this line, from the sixteenth to the eighteenth centuries, the peasants sank toward a new kind of serfdom in which they rendered forced labor to their lords on large farms. West of the line the peasants owed little or no forced labor and tilled small farms that they owned or rented. This line marks a somewhat imprecise but signifi cant social boundary that would also have an important infl uence on the political and economic history of modern Europe. This complex area is also shown in simplifi ed form on p. 200.

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199

B a l t i

c S e

a

Vistu la

R.

Da n u be R.

Elbe R.

R h

in e

R .

A d

ria tic

Sea

B l a c k S e a

DENMARK

SWISS CONFED.

VENICE

PI ED

M O

N T

BAVARIA

BOHEMIA

SAXONY SILESIA

SWEDEN

GALICIA

H U N G A R Y

TRANSYLVANIA

TUSCANY PAPAL STATES

BOSNIA

SERBIA

OTTOMAN EMPIRE BULGARIA

MOLDAVIA

HANOVER

AUSTRIA

AUSTRIAN MONARCHY

RUSSIAN EMPIRE

P R U S S I A

FRANCE

Riga

Moscow

Minsk

Kiev

Lemberg

Warsaw

Budapest

Prague

Vienna

Berlin

Trieste

Rome

Cologne

0 100 200 miles

Boundary of Holy Roman Empire

Boundary between Agrarian Zones

Church Lands

1795

0 100 200 miles

Boundary of Holy Roman Empire

Boundary between Agrarian Zones

Church Lands

1660

B a l t i

c S e

a

Da n u be R.

Elbe R.

R h

in e

R .

A d

ria tic

Sea

B l a c k S e a

V istula R.

DENMARK

SWISS CONFED.

VENICE

PI ED

M O

N T

FR A

N C

E

BAVARIA

BOHEMIA

SAXONY SILESIA

BR AN

DE NB

URG-PRUSSIA

SWEDEN

REPUBLIC OF POLAND

TUSCANY PAPAL STATES

K IN

G D

O M

O

F HU

NG AR

Y

OTTOMAN EMPIRE

AUS TRIA

MORAV IA

R U

S S

I A

GALICIA

HUNGARY

TRANSYLVANIASLAVONIA BOSNIA

SERBIA

BULGARIA

MOLDAVIA

Riga Moscow

Minsk

Kiev

Lemberg

Warsaw

Budapest

Prague

Vienna

Berlin

Trieste

Cologne

Rome

23. Three Aging Empires

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Chapter 5 The Transformation of Eastern Europe, 1648–1740200

AGING EMPIRES AND NEW POWERS The left panel shows the “three aging empires” that occupied much of central and eastern Europe in the seventeenth century. Though maintaining themselves with growing diffi culty under modern conditions, the Polish Republic lasted until 1795, the Holy Roman Empire until 1806, and the Ottoman Empire until 1923. Meanwhile, beginning in the seventeenth century, the political leadership in this area was assumed by three rising monarchical states that were developing new institutions such as standing armies and professional bureaucracies. These reorganizing states were the Austrian Empire of the Habsburgs, the Hohenzollern kingdom of Prussia, and the Russian Empire of the Romanovs. They are shown in the right panel. All three fi gured prominently in the affairs of Europe for over 200 years; and all would perish in the First World War, 1914–1918.

B a l t

i c

S e a

A d ri a t i c

S e a

B l a c k S e a

N o r t h S e a

Mediterranean Sea

REPUBLIC OF POLAND

K . O

F H

U N

GA RY

HOLY ROMAN EMPIRE

O T

T O

M A

N

E M P I R E

Moscow

Warsaw

Budapest Vienna

Berlin

Constantinople

0 100 200 300 miles

1660

B a l t

i c S

e a

A

d r i atic Sea

Black Sea

N o r t h S e a

Mediterranean Sea

AUSTRIAN

MONARCHY

RUSSIAN EMPIRE PRUSSIA

O T T O

M A N

E M P I R E

Moscow

Warsaw

Budapest Vienna

Berlin

Constantinople

0 100 200 300 miles

Boundary of Holy Roman Empire

1795

The half-century after the Peace of Westphalia was thus a highly critical period in cen-

tral Europe. The situation in Germany was fl uid. No one could tell which, if any, of the half-

dozen chief German states would emerge in the lead. Nothing was crystallized; anything

might happen. Two states defi nitely came forward after 1700, built by the

skill and persistence of their rulers—Austria and Prussia. It is a curious and

revealing fact that neither really had a political or cultural name of its own.

They were for a long time known most commonly as “houses”—the house of Austria or

Habsburg and the house of Brandenburg or Hohenzollern. Each house put together a certain

combination of territories. Each would have been as willing to possess any other territorial

combination had the course of events been different. By extension of meaning, one came

to be called “Austria,” which for centuries had been simply an archduchy on the upper

Danube. The other, “Prussia,” for centuries had meant only a certain stretch of the Baltic

coast. To these two states we shall shortly turn.

The Republic of Poland about 1650

Running almost 1,000 miles eastward from the Holy Roman Empire in the middle of the

seventeenth century lay the vast tract of the Republic of Poland, called a republic because

its king was elected and because the political classes took pride in their constitutional

Austria and Prussia

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201

liberties. Its vast size was one cause of its internal peculiarities. No administrative system

could have kept up with the expansion of its frontiers, so that a large degree of freedom

had always been left to outlying lords. In addition, this geographical expansion had given

the Republic of Poland a heterogeneous population with diverse cultures, languages, and

religions.

The Polish state was a far more recent and less substantial creation than

the Holy Roman Empire. It was made up of two main parts, Poland proper

(the Kingdom of Poland) in the west and the Grand Duchy of Lithuania

in the east. They had been joined by a union of their crowns (see maps,

pp. 199, 200). Only in the west was there a large Polish population. The Duchy of Prussia,

a fi ef of the Polish crown, was peopled mainly by Germans. Further east a Byelorussian

Poland and

Lithuania

COUNT STANISLAS POTOCKI by Jacques-Louis David (French, 1748–1825)

This portrait of a well-known eighteenth-century Polish nobleman—painted by David in 1781—expresses the sense of independent grandeur that characterized the Polish aristocracy for several centuries in the early modern era. (Erich Lessing/Art Resource, NY)

23. Three Aging Empires

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Chapter 5 The Transformation of Eastern Europe, 1648–1740202

and Ukrainian peasantry was subject to a scattering of Polish and Lithuanian landlords.

Even in Poland itself the town population was not generally “Polish” in its language or

culture. Most townspeople were Germans and Jews. The Jews spoke Yiddish, derived from

German, and were very numerous because a king of Poland in the later Middle Ages had

welcomed Jewish refugees fl eeing from anti-Jewish violence in Germany. They lived in

separate communities with their own law, language, and religion, forming large vibrant

islands of Orthodox Jewish life in the Gentile ocean. The Germans too held aloof, resist-

ing assimilation to the cultures and communities that surrounded them. An unsurpassable

barrier thus existed between town and country. There was no national middle class. The

offi cial and political language was Latin. Roman Catholicism was the leading religion.

Poland is interesting as the region in which the landed aristocracy prevailed over all

other groups in the country, neither allowing the consolidation of the state on absolutist

lines, nor yet creating an effective constitutional or parliamentary government. The Polish

aristocracy, or szlachta, made up some 8 percent of the population, a far higher proportion than the aristocracy of any country in western Europe. On this ground the old Polish king-

dom has sometimes been considered, especially by later Polish nationalists, as the pos-

sessor of an early form of democracy. The aristocracy were sticklers for their liberties,

called the “Polish liberties,” which resembled the German liberties in that they consisted

largely of a fi erce suspicion of central authority and were a perpetual invitation to foreign

interference. As in the Holy Roman Empire, the monarchy was elective, and the king

upon election had to accept certain contractual agreements, which, like the German

“capitulations,” prevented the accumulation of monarchical authority. The Poles were too

politically divided to accept one of their own number as king, so from 1572 to the extinc-

tion of Poland over two centuries later there were only two native Polish kings who

reigned for any length of time. One of these kings was the national hero John Sobieski,

who led a decisive campaign against the army of the Ottoman Empire

during the 1680s.

As in Germany, the central diet was ineffective, so the centers of politi-

cal action were local. The aristocracy met in 50 or 60 regional diets, turbu-

lent assemblages of warlike gentry, in which the great lords used the lesser

lords for their own purposes. The central diet, from which the towns were excluded, was a

periodic meeting of emissaries, under binding instructions from the regional diets. It came

to be recognized, as one of the liberties of the country, that the central diet could take no

action to which any member objected. Any member, by stating his unalterable opposition,

could oblige a diet to disband. This was the famous liberum veto, the free veto, and to use it to break up a diet was called “exploding” the diet. The fi rst diet was exploded in 1652.

Of 55 diets held from that year to 1764, 48 were exploded.

Government under these conditions became a paralyzing stalemate. The monopoly of

law and force, characteristic of the modern state, failed to develop in Poland. The king of

Poland had practically no army, no law courts, no offi cials, and no income. The nobility

paid no taxes, and no institution had the authority or power to make reforms. By 1750 the

revenues of the king of Poland were about one-thirteenth those of the tsar of Russia and

one seventy-fi fth those of the king of France. Armed force was in the hands of a dozen or

so aristocratic leaders, who also conducted their individual foreign policies, pursuing their

own adventures against the Turks, or bringing in Russians, French, or Swedes to help them

against other Poles. The landlords became local monarchs on their manorial estates. The

mass of the rural population fell deeper into a serfdom scarcely different from slavery,

bound to compulsory labor on estates resembling plantations, with police and disciplinary

Weakness of central

government

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203

powers in the hands of the lords and with no outside legal or administrative system to set

the limits of exploitation.

The huge expanse comprised under the name of Poland was, in short, a political

vacuum; and as more powerful centers developed, notably around Berlin and

Moscow, the push against the Polish frontiers became steadily stronger. It

was facilitated by the Poles themselves. As early as 1660 the East Prussian

fi ef became independent of the Polish crown. As early as 1667 the Musco-

vites reconquered Smolensk and Kiev. Already there was confi dential talk of partitioning

Poland, which, however, was deferred for a century. Much of the history of modern Europe

would have been different had the seventeenth-century Republic of Poland held together or

built a more powerful, centralized state. There may have been no kingdom of Prussia and no

Prussian infl uence in Germany; nor would Russia have become the chief Slavic power or

reached so far into central Europe.

The Ottoman Empire about 1650

The Ottoman state, the third of the three multicultural empires that together spread over

so much of central and eastern Europe, was larger than either of the others, and in the

seventeenth century it was much more solidly organized and powerful. In 1529 the Turks

had attacked Vienna and seemed about to move into Germany, where the bitter confl icts

of the Lutheran Reformation were then dividing and distracting the German princes. To

most people in Europe the Turks were a mystery as well as a commercial rival or a looming

military threat. We have seen, for example, how Philip II of Spain sent his navy to wage

war against Ottoman forces in the Mediterranean during the sixteenth century. But Turkish

culture and institutions were still not well known in Europe. The Turks had lived orig-

inally in central Asia, from where they migrated into Anatolia during the Middle Ages

and eventually conquered Constantinople in 1453. They were Muslims who drew much of

their Islamic civilization from the Arabs and Persians, whom they had also conquered and

with whom they had developed extensive cultural and economic exchanges over several

centuries. Turkish armies had entered the Balkans even before their conquest of Constan-

tinople, and they steadily gained control of new Balkan territories after military victories,

such as the Battle of Kosovo (1389). The Ottoman Empire later expanded deeper into

Europe under the skillful leadership of Suleiman the Magnifi cent, who introduced impor-

tant legal reforms and also led the army that was turned back from Vienna in 1529.

The Ottoman Empire remained the dominant power in the eastern Mediterranean and

southeastern Europe throughout the seventeenth century, and their dominions extended,

about 1650, from the Hungarian plain and the south Russian steppes as far as Algeria,

the upper Nile, and the Persian Gulf. The empire was based to a large degree on military

profi ciency.

Long before the European states had established permanent military forces, the Turks

already had a standing army, of which the well-disciplined janissaries were the main strik-

ing force. The janissaries were originally recruited from Christian children taken from

their families in early childhood, brought up as Muslims, reared in military surround-

ings, and forbidden to marry (this restriction was gradually dropped in the late sixteenth

century). Without social ties, interests, or ambitions outside the military organization to which

they belonged, the janissaries were an ideal professional fi ghting force under the control

of political leaders. The Turkish forces were long as well equipped as the Christian,

being especially strong in heavy artillery. But by the mid-seventeenth century they were

Pressures on Poland

23. Three Aging Empires

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Chapter 5 The Transformation of Eastern Europe, 1648–1740204

beginning to fall behind. Their armies had changed little, or for the worse, since the days

of Suleiman the Magnifi cent a century before, whereas in the better-organized Christian

states discipline and military administration had been improved, and fi rearms, land mines,

and siegecraft had become more effective.

The Turks cared little about assimilating subject peoples to their language or institu-

tions. Local populations within the empire thus retained most of their cultural traditions

and autonomy. Law was based on religious law derived from the Qur’an. Law courts and

judges were hard to distinguish from religious authorities, for there was no separation

between religious and secular spheres. The sultan was also the caliph, the commander of

the faithful; while on the one hand there was no clergy in the European sense, on the other

hand religious infl uences affected all aspects of life. The Turks, for the most part, applied

the Muslim law only to Muslims; and the overall administration of imperial policies was

controlled by a powerful government offi cial called the grand vizier.

The Ottoman government left its non-Muslim subjects to settle their

own affairs in their own way, not according to nationality, which was gen-

erally indistinguishable, but according to religious groupings. The Greek

Orthodox church, to which most Christians in the empire belonged, thus

became an almost autonomous intermediary between the sultan and a large fraction of its

subjects. Armenian Christians and Jews formed other separate bodies. Except in the west-

ern Balkans (Albania and Bosnia) there was no general conversion of Christians to Islam

Tolerance of non-

Muslim subjects

De Agostini/Getty Images

Suleiman the Magnifi cent was the most important sultan in the sixteenth-century Ottoman Empire. During his long reign (1520–1566) Suleiman introduced numerous imperial reforms and expanded Ottoman power deep into the Balkans and central Europe, where his forces came into repeated confl ict with the Austrian Habsburgs. This Turkish miniature shows Suleiman in his exalted position as he receives a visiting emissary. (De Agostini/Getty Images)

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205

during the Turkish rule, although there were many individual cases of Christians turning

Muslim to obtain the privileges of the ruling faith. North of the Danube the Christian

princes of Transylvania, Wallachia, and Moldavia (later combined into modern Romania)

continued to rule over Christian subjects. They were kept in offi ce for that purpose by the

sultan, to whom they paid tribute. In general, because their subjects were more profi table

to them as Christians, the Turks were not eager to proselytize for Islam.

The Ottoman Empire was therefore a relatively tolerant empire, far more so than the

states of Europe. Christians in the Ottoman Empire fared better than Muslims would have

fared in Christendom or than the Moors and Jews had in fact fared in Spain. Christians

were less disturbed in Turkey than were Protestants in France, after 1685, or Catholics in

Ireland. The empire was tolerant because it was composite, an aggregation of peoples,

religions, and laws, having no drive, as did the Western states, toward internal unity and

complete legal sovereignty. The same tolerance was evident in the attitude toward foreign

merchants, who were active throughout most of the empire.

The king of France had had treaty arrangements with Turkey since 1535, and many

traders from Marseilles had spread over the port towns of the Middle East. They were

exempted by treaty from the laws of the Ottoman Empire and were liable to trial only by

their own judges, who though residing in Turkey were appointed by the king of France.

They were free to exercise their Roman Catholic religion, and if disputes with Muslims

arose, they appeared in special courts where the word of an infi del received equal weight

with that of a follower of the prophet. Similar rights in Turkey were obtained

by other European states. Thus began “extraterritorial” privileges of the

kind obtained by Europeans in later centuries in China and elsewhere, wher-

ever the local laws were regarded as “backward,” or hostile to Europeans.

To the Turks of the seventeenth century there was nothing exceptional

about such arrangements. Only much later, under Western infl uence and the rise of modern

nationalism, did the Turks come to resent these “capitulations” as impairments of their own

sovereignty.

Yet the Turkish rule was often oppressive, and the “terrible Turk” was the recurring

religious and military nightmare of eastern Europe. Ottoman rule was oppressive to

Christians if only because it relegated them to a secondary position and because everything

they held holy was viewed by the Turks with little respect and even (at times) with

contempt. But Ottoman rule could be oppressive also in that it was often arbitrary and brutal

even by the none too sensitive standards of Europeans. It was worse in these respects in the

seventeenth century than formerly, for the central authority of the sultans gradually became

corrupt, and the outlying governors, or pashas, had a virtual free hand with their subjects.

Those parts of the Ottoman Empire that adjoined the Christian states were among

the least fi rmly attached to Constantinople. The Tartar Khans of south

Russia, like the Christian princes of the Danubian principalities, were sim-

ply protégés who paid tribute. Hungary was occupied by the Ottomans, but

it was more a battlefi eld than a province. These regions were disputed by

Germans, Poles, and Russians. It seemed in the middle of the seventeenth century as if the

grip of the Turks might be relaxing. But a series of capable grand viziers, of the Köprülü

family, came to power and retained it contrary to Turkish customs for 50 years. Under

them the empire again launched a military campaign to expand into the Habsburg lands in

central Europe. By 1663 the janissaries were again mobilizing in Hungary. Tartar horse-

men were on the move. Central Europe again felt the old terror. The pope feared that the

dreaded Ottoman enemy might break into Italy. Throughout Germany by the emperor’s

“Extraterritorial”

privileges

Disputed regions

23. Three Aging Empires

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Chapter 5 The Transformation of Eastern Europe, 1648–1740206

order special “Turk bells” sounded the alarm. The states of the empire voted to raise a

small imperial army. The Holy Roman Empire thus bestirred itself temporarily against the

historic enemy of European Christians. However, it was not under the auspices of the Holy

Roman Empire, but by the house of Austria that the Turks were repelled.

24. THE FORMATION OF AN AUSTRIAN MONARCHY

The Recovery and Growth of Habsburg Power, 1648–1740

The Austria that was gaining international infl uence by 1700 was actually a new creation,

though not as obviously so as the two other rising states in Prussia and Russia. The Austrian

Habsburgs had long enjoyed an eminent role. Formerly their position had rested on their

headship of the Holy Roman Empire and on their family connection with the wealthy

Habsburgs of Spain. In the seventeenth century these two supports collapsed. The hope

for an effective Habsburg Empire in Germany disappeared in the Thirty Years’ War. The

connection with Spain lost its value as Spain declined, and it vanished when in 1700 Spain

passed to the Bourbon family of France. The Austrian royal family in the latter half of the

seventeenth century stood at the great turning point of its fortunes. It successfully made a

diffi cult transition, emerging from the husk of the Holy Roman Empire and building an

empire of its own. At the same time the Habsburgs continued to be Holy Roman Emperors

and remained active in German affairs, using resources drawn from outside Germany to

maintain their infl uence over the German princes. The relation of Austria to the rest of

Germany remained a political conundrum down to the twentieth century.

The Austrian Habsburgs held direct control over three main

geographical regions of Europe. Their oldest territories were the “hereditary

provinces”—Upper and Lower Austria, with the adjoining Tyrol, Styria,

Carinthia, and Carniola. Second, they controlled the kingdom of Bohemia—Bohemia,

Moravia, and Silesia joined under the crown of St. Wenceslas. Third, there was the kingdom

of Hungary—Hungary, Transylvania, and Croatia joined under the crown of St. Stephen.

Nothing held all these regions together except the fact that the Austrian Habsburg dynasty,

in the seventeenth century, reaffi rmed its political grip upon them all. During the Thirty

Years’ War the dynasty rooted Protestantism and feudal rebelliousness out of Austria and

the hereditary provinces. It also reconquered and re-Catholicized Bohemia, and in the

following decades it was able to conquer Hungary.

Since 1526 most of Hungary had been occupied by the Turks. For generations the Hun-

garian plain was a theater of intermittent warfare between the armies of Vienna and Constan-

tinople. The struggle had fl ared up again in 1663, when, as noted earlier, the armies of the

Ottoman Empire began to move up the Danube. A mixed force, assembled from the empire

and its various European allies, stopped this advance and obliged the Turks in 1664 to accept

a 20-year truce. But Louis XIV, who in these years was busily dismembering the western

frontier of the Holy Roman Empire, stood to profi t greatly from an Ottoman diversion on the

Danube. He incited the Turks (old allies of France through common hostility to the Habsburgs)

to resume their assaults, which they did as the 20-year truce came to a close.

In 1683 a large Turkish army reached Vienna and set up an extended

siege of the city. The Turks again, as in 1529, threatened to break through to

the main centers of German culture and political power. The garrison and

people of Vienna, greatly outnumbered, held off the besiegers for two months,

enough time for a defending force to arrive from other parts of eastern Europe.

Dominions of Austria

Vienna besieged by

the Turks

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20724. The Formation of an Austrian Monarchy

Both sides showed the “international” character of the confl ict. The Turkish army included

Christians—Romanian and Hungarian—the latter in rebellion against Habsburg rule in

Hungary. The anti-Turkish force was composed mainly of Poles, Austrian dynastic troops,

and Germans from various states of the Holy Roman Empire. It was fi nanced largely by

Pope Innocent XI; it was commanded in the fi eld by the Habsburg general, Duke Charles

of Lorraine, who hoped to protect his inheritance on the eastern borders of France from

annexation by Louis XIV, and its higher command was entrusted to John Sobieski, king of

Poland. Sobieski contributed greatly to the victory of the Habsburg allies at the battle of

Vienna, which broke the Ottoman siege and also was the last great military effort of the

moribund Republic of Poland. After the Turks abandoned their siege, a general anti-

Turkish counteroffensive developed across southeastern Europe. Armed forces of the

pope, Poland, Russia, and the republic of Venice joined with the Habsburgs in new cam-

paigns. It was in this war, in fi ghting between Turks and Venetians, that the Parthenon at

Athens, which had survived for 2,000 years but which the Turks now used as a citadel for

storing ammunition, was severely damaged when a Venetian bombardment set off an

explosion of the Turkish munitions.

The Habsburgs had the good fortune to obtain the services of a man of remarkable

talent, Prince Eugene of Savoy. Eugene, like many other servants of the

Austrian house, was not Austrian at all; he was in fact French by origin and

education but like many aristocrats of the time he was an international per-

sonage. More than anyone else he was the founder of the modern Austrian

state. Distinguished both as a military administrator and as a commander

in the fi eld, he reformed the supply, equipment, training, and command of the Habsburg

forces, along lines laid out by Louis XIV; and in 1697 he won the battle of Zenta, driving

the Ottoman forces out of Hungary. At the Peace of Karlowitz (1699) the Turks yielded

most of Hungary, together with Transylvania and Croatia, to the Habsburg house; and the

Ottoman Empire was pushed back permanently into Romania and the Balkans.

The Habsburgs were now free to pursue their ambitions in the west. They entered

the War of the Spanish Succession to win the Spanish crown, but they had to content

themselves by the treaty of Rastatt in 1714 with the annexation of the old Spanish

Netherlands and with Milan and Naples. Prince Eugene, freed now in the west, again turned

eastward. Never before or afterward were the Austrians so brilliantly successful. Eugene

captured Belgrade and pushed through the Iron Gate into Wallachia. But the Ottoman

Empire was by no means helpless, and Turkish armies later drove the Austrians from much

of the Balkan territory they had recently occupied. The Peace of Belgrade (1739) drew

a new frontier that on the Austrian side remained unchanged until the twentieth century.

The Turks continued to hold Romania and the whole Balkan peninsula except Catholic

Croatia, which was incorporated into the Habsburg Empire. The Habsburg government,

to open a window on the Mediterranean, developed a seaport at Trieste. Meanwhile the

Ottoman Empire remained an important contributor to the cross-cultural exchanges,

contacts, and confl icts that constantly infl uenced the political and economic life of every

European country in the Mediterranean world.

The Austrian Monarchy by 1740

Thus the royal house of Austria, in two or three generations after its humiliation at the Peace

of Westphalia, acquired a new empire of considerable proportions. Though installed in

Belgium and Italy, it was essentially an empire of the middle Danube, with its headquarters

Prince Eugene of

Savoy

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Chapter 5 The Transformation of Eastern Europe, 1648–1740208

The Austrian Habsburgs mobilized a large force of military alllies, including Polish troops under King John Sobieski, to repel the Turkish army that besieged Vienna in 1683. This painting by Franz Geffels (1635–c. 1699) portrays the fi nal, decisive clash that forced the Turks to abandon their siege of the city. (Erich Lessing/Art Resource, NY)

at Vienna in Austria proper, but possessing also the sizable kingdoms of Hungary and

Bohemia. Though German infl uence was strong, the empire was international—or nonna-

tional. At the Habsburg court, and in the Habsburg government and army, the names of

Czech, Hungarian, Croatian, and Italian noblemen were common. When nationalist move-

ments later swept over Europe in the nineteenth century, the empire was denounced as

tyrannical by Hungarians, Croats, Serbs, Romanians, Czechs, Poles, Italians, and even by

some Germans, whose national ambitions were blocked by its existence. In more recent

times, disillusioned by nationalism in central and eastern Europe, some historians tended

to romanticize unduly the old Habsburg monarchy, noting that it had at least the merit of

holding many discordant peoples together.

The empire was based on a cosmopolitan aristocracy of landowners

who felt closer to each other, despite differences of language, than to the

laboring masses who worked on their estates. Not for many years, until after

1848, did the Habsburg government really touch these rural masses; it dealt

with the landed class and with the relatively few cities, but it left the land-

lords to control the peasants. The old diets, or assemblies, survived in Bohemia, Hungary,

and the Austrian provinces. No diet was created for the empire as a whole. The regional

diets were essentially assemblages of landlords; and though they no longer enjoyed their

medieval freedoms, they retained powers over taxation and administration and a sense of

constitutional liberty against the crown. So long as they produced taxes and soldiers as

needed, and accepted the wars and foreign policy of the ruling house, no questions were

An international

empire

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209

asked at Vienna. Religion was a different matter, however, for the Habsburgs forcefully

repressed the Protestantism that had spread widely across both Bohemia and Hungary.

Many of the estates of Protestant nobles and rebels were confi scated, giving the Habsburgs

valuable lands with which to reward soldiers and supporters from all parts of Europe. An

increasingly heterogeneous population of Germans, Croats, and Serbs settled in Habsburg

territories, especially in Hungary. Meanwhile, the peasants remained in, or reverted to,

serfdom.

Despite the concerted political, religious, and military policies of the Habsburg rulers,

the Austrian Empire was still a collection of territories held together by a political allegiance

to the same Habsburg monarch. Inhabitants of Austria proper considered their ruler as arch-

duke, Bohemians saw in him the king of Bohemia; Magyars, the apostolic king of Hungary.

Each country retained its own law, diet, and political life, all of which made it diffi cult or

THE GROWTH OF THE AUSTRIAN MONARCHY, 1521–1772 The map shows the main body of the Austrian monarchy as it evolved in the eighteenth century and endured until the collapse of the empire in 1918. There were three main parts: (1) a nucleus, composed of Austria and adjoining duchies, often called the “hereditary provinces”; (2) the lands of the Bohemian crown, which became Habsburg in 1526 and where the Habsburgs reas- serted their power during the Thirty Years’ War; and (3) the lands of the Hungarian crown, where at fi rst the Habsburgs held only the segment called Imperial Hungary, the rest remaining within the Ottoman Empire until the Habsburgs gained almost full control in 1699. In the fi rst partition of Poland (1772) the Habsburgs annexed Galicia. Silesia was lost to Prussia in 1740.

Danube R.

Da nu

be R .

Vistu la

R .

AUSTRIA

TYROL STYRIA

CARNIOLA

CR O AT

IA

CARINTHIA

MORAVIA BOHEMIA

SILESIA (TO PRUSSIA 1740)

HUNGARY

SLAVONIA

TRANSYLVANIA

GALICIA

Belgrade

Mohacs

Budapest

Lemberg

Pressburg

Cracow Prague

Vienna

0 50 100 miles

Austria in 1521

Crown of Bohemia 1526

Imperial Hungary 1526

Galicia (From First Partition of Poland 1772)

Crown of Hungary 1526–1699

From Ottoman Empire

24. The Formation of an Austrian Monarchy

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Chapter 5 The Transformation of Eastern Europe, 1648–1740210

impossible for the Habsburgs to establish laws and institutions that would be accepted in all

the territories they ruled. No shared “national” feeling in the people held these regions

together, and even the several aristocracies were joined only by common service to the

Habsburgs. For the empire to exist, all crowns had to be inherited by the same person.

As the Habsburgs consolidated their control of Hungary, the king-archduke, Charles VI

(1711–1740), devised a form of insurance to guarantee such an undivided succession. This

took the form of a document called the Pragmatic Sanction, fi rst issued

in 1713. By it every diet in the empire and the various archdukes of the

Habsburg family were to agree to regard the Habsburg territories as indivis-

ible and to recognize only the Habsburg line of heirs. The matter became

urgent when it developed that Charles would have no male heir. The direct

male line of the Austrian Habsburgs, as of the Spanish a few years before, was about to

become extinct. But Charles did have a daughter, Maria Theresa, and he gradually won

acceptance of the “Pragmatic Sanction” by all parts of his empire and all members of

his family. Women had never inherited the Habsburg monarchy, and, by law, a woman

could not rule Austria; but the Pragmatic Sanction recognized Maria Theresa’s right to

the Habsburg throne and to the inheritance of all Habsburg territories. Charles set about

having foreign powers guarantee the agreement, knowing that Bavaria, Prussia, or others

might well put in claims for this or that part of the inheritance. This process took years, and

was accomplished at the cost of many damaging concessions. Finally all powers signed the

agreement. Charles VI died in 1740, having done all that could be done, by domestic law

and international treaty, to assure the continuation of the Austrian Empire.

Like all such plans, however, the legal agreements could not be forcefully defended

from a tomb, and Charles was scarcely dead when armed “heirs” presented themselves.

A great war broke out to partition the Austrian Empire, as the Spanish Empire had been

partitioned shortly before. Bohemia threw off its allegiance. Hungary almost did the

same. But these events became connected to wider European confl icts during “The War

of the Austrian Succession,” which will be discussed in a later chapter. At the moment it

is enough to know that by 1740 a populous empire of great military strength existed on

the Danube.

25. THE FORMATION OF PRUSSIA

It was characteristic of the seventeenth century that very small states were able to play an

infl uential part in European affairs, seemingly out of all proportion to their size. The main

reason why small states could act as great powers was that armies were small and weapons

were simple. Diffi culties of supply and communications, the poor condition of the roads,

the lack of maps, the absence of general staffs, together with many other administrative

and technical diffi culties, reduced the number of soldiers who could be successfully man-

aged in a campaign. The battles of the Thirty Years’ War, on the average, were fought by

armies of less than 20,000 men. And while Louis XIV, by the last years of his reign, built

up a military establishment aggregating some 400,000, the actual fi eld armies in the wars

of Louis XIV did not exceed, on the average, 40,000. Armies of this size were well within

the reach of smaller powers. If especially well trained, disciplined, and equipped, and if

ably commanded, the armies of smaller states could defeat those of much larger neighbors.

On this fact, fundamentally, the German state of Prussia would be built. But Sweden was

actually the fi rst such smaller power to exploit this kind of military opportunity with spec-

tacular consequences.

Charles VI and the

Pragmatic Sanction

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21125. The Formation of Prussia

Sweden’s Short-Lived Empire

Sweden almost, but not quite, formed an empire in central and eastern Europe in the

seventeenth century. The population of Sweden at the time was not over a million; it was

smaller than that of the Dutch Republic. But the Swedes produced a line of extraordinary

rulers, ranging from genius in Gustavus Adolphus (1611–1632) through the brilliantly

erratic Queen Christina (1632–1654) to the amazing military exploits of Charles XII

(1697–1718). The elective Swedish kingship was made hereditary, so that the royal power

was freed from control by the estates. Craftsmen and experts were brought from the west,

notably Holland; war industries were subsidized by the government; and an army was

created with many novel features in weapons, organization, and tactics.

With this army Gustavus Adolphus crossed the Baltic in the Thirty

Years’ War, made alliances with Protestant German princes, cut through

the Holy Roman Empire, and helped to ward off the Habsburg unifi cation

of Germany. The Swedish crown, by the Peace of Westphalia, received

certain coastal regions of Germany. Subsequently, in a complex series of wars, the Swedes

won control of virtually all the shores and cities of the Baltic. Only Denmark at the mouth

of that sea and the territories of the house of Brandenburg, which had almost no ports,

remained independent. For a time the Baltic was a Swedish lake. The Russians were shut

off from it, and the Poles and even the Germans, who lived on its shores, could use the

Baltic only on Swedish terms.

The fi nal Swedish campaign for imperial expansion took place during

the meteoric reign of Charles XII. As a young man he found his dominions

attacked by Denmark, Poland, and Russia; he won remarkable victories over

them but would not make peace; he then led an army back and forth across

the eastern European plain, only to be crushed by the Russians. He fl ed to the Ottoman

Empire and spent several years as a guest and protégé of the Turks before he eventually

returned to Sweden. By the time Charles died in 1718 the Swedish sphere had contracted

to Sweden itself, except that Finland and reduced holdings in northern Germany remained

Swedish for a century more. The Swedes in time proved themselves exceptional among

European peoples in not harping on their former greatness. They successfully and peace-

ably made the transition from the role of an important military state to that of a small power.

The Territorial Growth of Brandenburg-Prussia

In the long run it was to be Prussia that dominated the northern part of central Europe.

Prussia became famous for its “militarism,” which may be said to exist when military

needs and military values permeate all other spheres of life. Through its infl uence on

Germany over a period of two centuries Prussia played a momentous part in modern

European and world history. The south coast of the Baltic, where Prussia was to arise, was

an unpromising site for the creation of a strong political power. It was an uninviting coun-

try, thinly populated, with poor soil and without mineral resources, more backward than

Saxony or Bohemia, not to mention the busy centers of south Germany and western

Europe. It was a fl at open plain, merging imperceptibly into Poland, without prominent

physical features or natural frontiers (see maps, pp. 4–5, 195, 200, 214–215). The coastal

region directly south from Sweden was known as Pomerania. Inland from it, shut off from

the sea, was Brandenburg, centering about Berlin. Brandenburg had been founded in the

Middle Ages as a border state, a “mark” or “march” of the Holy Roman Empire, to fi ght

Swedish territorial

victories

Charles XII

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Chapter 5 The Transformation of Eastern Europe, 1648–1740212

the battles of the empire against the then heathen Slavs. Its ruler, the margrave, was one of

the seven princes who, after 1356, elected the Holy Roman Emperor. Hence he was com-

monly called the Elector of Brandenburg. After 1415 the electors were always of the

Hohenzollern family.

All Germany east of the Elbe, including Brandenburg, represented a

medieval conquest by German-speaking peoples—the German Drang nach Osten, or drive to the East. From the Elbe to Poland, German conquerors and settlers had replaced the Slavs, eliminating them or absorbing them by inter-

marriage. Eastward from Brandenburg, and outside the Holy Roman Empire, stretched a

region inhabited by Slavic peoples. Next to the east came “Prussia,” which eventually was to

give its name to all territories of the Hohenzollern monarchy. This original Prussia formed

part of the lands of the Teutonic Knights, a military crusading order that had conquered and

Christianized the native peoples in the thirteenth century. Except for its seacoast along the

Baltic, the duchy of Prussia was totally enclosed by the Polish kingdom. To the north, along

the Baltic, as far as the Gulf of Finland, German minorities lived among Lithuanians, Latvians

(or Letts), and Estonians. The towns were German, founded as German commercial colonies

in the Middle Ages, and many of the landlords were German also, descendants of the

Teutonic Knights, and later known as the “Baltic barons.”

Modern Prussia began to emerge in the seventeenth century when a num-

ber of territories came into the hands of the Hohenzollerns of Brandenburg.

In 1618 the Elector of Brandenburg inherited the duchy of Prussia. Another

important development occurred when the old ruling line in Pomerania

expired during the Thirty Years’ War. Although the Swedes succeeded in taking the better

part of Pomerania, including the city of Stettin, the Elector of Brandenburg received at the

Peace of Westphalia eastern Pomerania. Barren, rural, and harborless though it was, it at least

had the advantage of connecting Brandenburg with the Baltic. The Hohenzollerns no sooner

obtained it than they began to dream of joining it with their duchy of Prussia to the east, a task

that required the absorption of an intermediate and predominantly Slavic area, which was part

of Poland, a task not accomplished until 1772.

Had the duchy of Prussia and eastern Pomerania been the only acquisitions of the

Hohenzollerns, their state would have been oriented almost exclusively toward eastern

Europe. But at the Peace of Westphalia they received, in addition to eastern Pomerania,

new territories on the west bank of the Elbe. Moreover, through the play of family inheri-

tances common in the Holy Roman Empire, the Hohenzollerns had earlier, in 1614, come

to control the small state of Cleves on the Rhine at the Dutch border and a few other small

territories also in western Germany. These were separated from the main Hohenzollern

lands around Brandenburg by many intermediate German principalities, but the western

territories provided direct contact with the more advanced regions of western Europe and a

base from which larger holdings in the Rhineland were eventually to be built up.

In the seventeenth century the dominions of the house of Brandenburg were therefore

developing in three disconnected territories. The main one was Brandenburg, with adjoin-

ing Pomerania and territories along the Elbe. There was also a detached eastern territory in

the duchy of Prussia and another small detached western territory on and near the Rhine.

To connect and unify these three territorial possessions became the long-range policy of

the Brandenburg house.

In the midst of the Thirty Years’ War, in 1640, a young man of 20,

named Frederick William, succeeded to these diverse possessions. Known

later as the Great Elector, he was the fi rst of the several infl uential leaders

Germans expand

eastward

Territorial

acquisitions of the

Hohenzollerns

The Great Elector

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213

who shaped modern Prussia. He had grown up under trying conditions. Brandenburg was

one of the parts of Germany to suffer most heavily from the war. Its location made it the

stamping ground of Swedish and Habsburg armies. In 1640, in the 22 years since the

beginning of the war, the population of Berlin had fallen from about 14,000 to about 6,000.

Hundreds of villages had been completely wiped out.

Frederick William concluded that in his position, ruling a small and open territory,

without natural frontiers or the strategic possibility of defense in depth, he must put his

main reliance on a competent army. With an effective army, even if small, he could force

the stronger states to take him into their calculations and thereby enter with some hope of

advantage into the politics of the balance of power. This long remained the program of the

Brandenburgers—to have an army but not to use it, to conserve it with loving and even

miserly care, to keep an “army in being,” and to gain their ends by diplomatic maneuver.

They did so by siding with France against the Habsburgs, or with Sweden against Poland.

They aspired also to the title not merely of margrave or elector, but to the rank of king. The

opportunity came in 1701, when the Habsburg emperor was preparing to enter the War of

the Spanish Succession. The emperor requested the elector of Brandenburg, who was then

Frederick III, to support him with 8,000 troops. The elector named his price: recognition

of himself, by the emperor, as king “in Prussia.” The emperor yielded; the title, at fi rst

explicitly limited to the less honorable king in Prussia, soon became king of Prussia. The elector Frederick III of Brandenburg became King Frederick I of Prussia. Another thread

was torn from the fraying fabric of the Holy Roman Empire; and there was now a German

king above all the other German princes.

The Prussian Military State

The preoccupation of Prussia with its army was unquestionably defensive in origin, arising

from the horrors of the Thirty Years’ War. But it outlasted its cause and shaped the evolving

character of the country. Prussia was not unique in the attention it paid to its armed forces.

The unique thing about Prussia was the disproportion between the size of the army and

the size of the resources on which the army was based. The government, to maintain

Frederick William, who became known as the Great Elector, governed Prussia for almost 50 years (1640–1688) and set his country on a course toward new power and military infl uence in central Europe. (Foto Marburg/Art Resource, NY)

25. The Formation of Prussia

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Chapter 5 The Transformation of Eastern Europe, 1648–1740214

North Sea Baltic Sea

North Sea Baltic Sea

North Sea Baltic Sea

North Sea Baltic Sea

R h

in e R

.

Elbe R.

Oder R.

Vistula R.

Nieman R.

R h

in e R

.

Elbe R.

Oder R.

Vistula R.

Nieman R.

Elbe R.

Oder R.

Vistula R.

Nieman R.

R h

in e R

.

Elbe R.

Oder R.

Vistula R.

Nieman R.

Rh in

e R

.

KROSSEN 1482

BEUTHEN 1603–1607

EAST FRIESLAND

1744

GUELDERS 1715

SILESIA FROM AUSTRIA 1740

RAVENSBURG 1614

MARK 1614

MAGDEBURG 1648

FARTHER POMERANIA 1648

DUCHY OF PRUSSIA

1618

CLEVES 1614

MANSFIELD 1780

SOUTH PRUSSIA 1793

WEST PRUSSIA

1772 NEW EAST PRUSSIA

1772

DANZIG 1793

Berlin Berlin

BerlinBerlin

0 50 100 150 200 miles

Brandenburg 1415

Acquisitions 1462–1614

Brandenburg 1614

Brandenburg-Prussia 1648

THE NUCLEUS 1415–1614

1

AT THE DEATH OF THE GREAT ELECTOR BY 1688

POLISH ACQUISITIONS 1772–1807

THE CONQUEST OF SILESIA BY 1748

Prussia 1688

Acquisitions 1715–1748

Prussia 1748

Acquisitions 1748–1772

Temporary Acquisitions 1793–1795, to 1807

2

3 4

THE GROWTH OF PRUSSIA, 1415–1918 The maps shown here, going well beyond the scope of this chapter, give a conspectus of Prus- sian history from the time when Brandenburg began to expand in the seventeenth century. One may see, by looking at all the panels together, how Prussia was really an east-European state until 1815; its center of gravity shifted westward, in signifi cant degree, only in the nine- teenth century. Panel 2 shows the early formation of three unconnected territories; Panel 3, the huge bulk of Silesia relative to the small kingdom that annexed it; Panel 4, the fruits of the partitions of Poland; Panel 5, Napoleon pared Prussia down. The main crisis at the Congress of Vienna, and its resolution, are shown in Panels 6 and 7. Bismarck’s enlargement of Prussia appears in Panel 8. The boundaries established by Bismarck remained unchanged until the fall of the monarchy in 1918.

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215

the army, had to direct and plan the life of the country for this purpose. Nor was Prussia the

originator of the “standing” army, kept active in time of peace and always preparing for

war. Most governments adopted the methods of Louis XIV in establishing standing armies,

not merely to promote foreign ambitions but to keep armed forces out of the hands of

nobles or military adventurers and under control by the state.

But Prussia was unique in that, more than in any other country, the

army developed a life of its own, almost independent of the life of the state.

It was older than the Prussian state itself. In 1657 the Great Elector fought a

great battle at Warsaw with soldiers from all parts of his dominions. It was the fi rst time

that men from Cleves, Brandenburg, and ducal Prussia had ever done anything together.

The army was the fi rst “all Prussian” institution. Institutions of civilian government devel-

oped later and largely to meet the needs of the army. And in later generations the army

proved more durable than the state. When Prussia collapsed during the Napoleonic wars in

1806, the spirit and morale of the Prussian army carried on; and when the Hohenzollern

Empire fi nally crashed in 1918, the Prussian-shaped army still maintained its life and tradi-

tions within the Weimar Republic, which again it survived. Not until the defeat of Adolf

The Prussian army

R h

in e

R .

Elbe R.

Oder R.

Vistula R.

Nieman R.

R h

in e R

.

Elbe R.

Oder R.

Vistula R.

Nieman R.

Rhine R.

Elbe R.

Oder R.

Vistula R.

Nieman R.

R h

in e R

.

Elbe R.

Oder R.

Vistula R.

Nieman R.

North Sea Baltic Sea

North Sea Baltic Sea

North Sea Baltic Sea

North Sea Baltic Sea

LOST TO GRAND DUCHY OF WARSAW

AND TO RUSSIA 1807 LOST TO

RHINE CONFEDERATION STATES AND TO FRANCE 1807 SAXONY

(TO PRUSSIA)

POLAND (TO RUSSIA)

HESSE

SCHLESWIG

HOLSTEIN

HANOVER

SWEDISH POMERANIA

PART OF SAXONY

RHINELAND

POSEN

Berlin Berlin

BerlinBerlin

0 50 100 150 200 miles

Prussia 1807–1814

Territory Lost in 1807

Prussia 1814

Proposed Territorial Changes 1814

CUT DOWN BY NAPOLEON 1807–1814

RUSSO-PRUSSIAN PROPOSALS 1814

BISMARCK’S CONQUESTS 1866

AGREED AT CONGRESS OF VIENNA 1815

Prussia 1814

Recovered or Acquired 1815

Prussia 1863

Acquisitions 1866

5 6

7 8

25. The Formation of Prussia

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Chapter 5 The Transformation of Eastern Europe, 1648–1740216

Hitler in the Second World War and the establishment of a new republican regime was the

army and its military traditions totally subordinated to civilian authority.

In all countries, to some extent, the machinery of the modern state

developed as a means of supporting armed forces, but in Prussia the process

was exceptionally clear and simple. In Prussia the rulers drew roughly half

their income from the crown domain and only about half from taxes. The

crown domain, consisting of manors and other productive enterprises owned directly by

the ruler as a traditional lord, was in effect a kind of government property, for the Prussian

rulers used their income almost entirely for state purposes, being personally simple and

even Spartan in their habits. The rulers of Prussia, until a century after the accession of the

Great Elector, were able to pay the whole cost of their civil government from their own

income, the proceeds of the crown domain. To develop the domain and transfer the funds

into government expenditures, they created a large body of civilian offi cials. The domain

bulked so large that much of the economy of the country was not in private hands but con-

sisted of enterprises owned and administered by the state. For additional income the Great

Elector introduced taxes of the kind used in France, such as excise taxes on consumers’

goods and a government monopoly on the sale of salt. All taxes, for a century after the

accession of the Great Elector, were levied for the use of the army.

Economic life grew up under government sponsorship, rather than through the enter-

prise of a venturesome business class. This was because, for a rural country to maintain an

organized army, productive and technical skills had to be imported, mainly from the West.

The Great Elector in his youth spent a number of years in Holland, where he was impressed

by the wealth and prosperity that he saw. After becoming elector he settled Swiss and

Frisians in Brandenburg (the Frisians were akin to the Dutch); he welcomed Jews from

Poland; and when Louis XIV began to persecute the French Protestants, he provided funds

and special offi cials to assist the immigration of 20,000 Huguenots to Brandenburg. French

immigrants for a time formed a sixth of the population of Berlin and were the most

advanced commercial element of that comparatively undeveloped city. The government, as

in France under Colbert, initiated and helped to fi nance various industries; but the impor-

tance of such government participation was greater than in France, because the amount of

privately owned capital available for investment was incomparably less. Military needs,

more than elsewhere, dominated the market for goods, because civilian demand in so poor

a country was relatively low; the army, in its requirements for food, uniforms, and weapons

became a strong force in shaping the early modern economic growth of the country.

The army had a profound effect also on the social development and

class structure of Prussia. The civilian middle class remained generally

submissive to the military priorities, and it became the policy of the rulers

to absorb practically the whole landed aristocracy, the Junkers, into mili-

tary service. They used the army, with conscious purpose, as a means of

implementing an “all Prussian” psychology in the landed families of Cleves, Brandenburg,

Pomerania, and the former dominions of the Teutonic Knights. The fact that Prussia was

a very recent and artifi cial combination of territories, so that identifi cation with it was not

a natural sentiment, made it all the more necessary to instill loyalty by martial means.

Emphasis fell on duty, obedience, service, and sacrifi ce. That military virtues became

characteristic of the whole male Prussian aristocracy was also due, like so much else, to

the small size of the population. In France, for example, with perhaps 50,000 male adult

nobles, only a small minority served as army offi cers. In Prussia there were few Junker

families that did not have some of their members in uniform.

Maintaining the

army

The army and

Prussian society

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217

The Great Elector and his successors, like all absolutist rulers of the era, repressed

the estates or parliamentary assemblages in which the landed aristocracy was the main

element. To mollify the squires, the rulers promised commissions in the army to men of

their class. They promised them also a free hand over their peasants. The Prussian monarchy

was largely based on an understanding between the ruler and the landlord gentry—the

latter agreed to accept the ruler’s government and to serve in his army, in return for hold-

ing their own peasants in hereditary subjection. Serfdom spread in Prussia as elsewhere in

eastern Europe. In East Prussia the peasants fell into conditions that were as deplorable as

the agricultural conditions in Poland.

The Prussian rulers believed that the Junkers made better army offi cers because they

were accustomed to the habit of commanding their own peasants. To preserve the offi cer

class, legislation forbade the sale of “noble” lands, that is, manors, to persons not noble.

In France, again by way of contrast, where manorial rights had become simply a form of

property, bourgeois persons and even peasants could legally acquire man-

ors and enjoy a lordly or “seigneurial” income. In Prussia this was not

possible; classes were frozen by owning nonexchangeable forms of prop-

erty. It was thus harder for middle-class people to enter the aristocracy by

setting up as landed gentry. The bourgeois class in any case had little

spirit of independence. Few of the old towns of Germany were in Prussia. The Prussian

middle class was not wealthy, and it had not gained much infl uence through the posses-

sion of private property. The typical middle-class man was an offi cial who worked for

the government as an employee of the large crown domain or in an enterprise subsidized

by the state. The civil service in Prussia, from the days of the Great Elector, became

notable for its honesty and effi ciency. But the middle class, more than elsewhere,

deferred to the nobles, served the state, and accepted the pervasive public role of

the army.

These distinctive features of Prussia developed especially under

Frederick William I, who was king from 1713 to 1740. He was an earthy,

uncouth man, who disdained whatever savored of “culture,” to which his

father, his grandfather (the Great Elector), and also his son (Frederick the Great) were all

strongly attracted. He begrudged every penny not spent on the army. He cut the expense

of the royal household by three-fourths. On his coronation journey to Königsberg he spent

2,547 thalers, where his father had spent 5 million. He ruled the country in a fatherly

German way, supervising it like a private estate, prowling the streets of Berlin in an

old seedy uniform, and disciplining negligent citizens with blows of his walking stick.

He worked all the time and expected everyone else to do likewise.

He loved the army, which all his policies were designed to serve. He was the fi rst

Prussian king to appear always in uniform. He rearranged the order of courtly precedence,

moving army offi cers up and civilians down. His love of tall soldiers is famous; he col-

lected a special unit, men between 6 and 7 feet tall, from all over Europe, and indeed the

Russian Tsar Peter the Great sent him some from Asia. He devised new forms of discipline

and maneuver, founded a cadet corps to train the sons of the Junkers, and invented a new

system of recruiting (the canton system, long the most effective in Europe), by which each

regiment had a particular district or canton assigned to it as a source of soldiers. He raised

the size of the army from 40,000 at his accession to 83,000 at his death. During his reign

Berlin grew to be a city of 100,000, of whom 20,000 were soldiers, a proportion probably

matched in no other city of Europe. He likewise left to his successor (for he fought practi-

cally no wars himself) a war chest of 7,000,000 thalers.

Limited social

mobility

Frederick William I

25. The Formation of Prussia

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Chapter 5 The Transformation of Eastern Europe, 1648–1740218

With this army and war chest Frederick II, later called the Great, who became king in

1740, startled Europe. Charles VI of Austria had just died. His daughter Maria Theresa

entered upon her manifold inheritance, which depended on the long-

negotiated guarantees of the Pragmatic Sanction. While others waited,

Frederick struck. Serving no notice, he quickly moved his military forces

into Silesia, which was a part of the kingdom of Bohemia on the side toward

Poland, lying in the upper valley of the Oder River and adjoining Brandenburg on the

north. The addition of Silesia to the kingdom of Prussia almost doubled the population and

added valuable industries, so that Prussia now, with 6 million people and an army that

Frederick raised to 200,000, at last established itself as a great power. It must be added

that, judged simply as a human accomplishment, Prussia was a remarkable political and

military creation, a state made on a shoestring, a triumph of work and duty.

26. THE TRANSFORMATION OF RUSSIA

The affairs of central and eastern Europe, from Sweden to Turkey and from Germany to the

Caspian Sea, were profoundly interconnected. The underlying theme of the present chapter,

it may be recalled, is that this whole great area was fl uid, occupied by the weakening political

bodies of the Holy Roman Empire, Poland, and the Ottoman Empire and that in this fl uid

area three new powers gradually developed—the modern Austrian monarchy, the kingdom

of Prussia, and the Russian Empire. All, too, in varying degree, became modern eighteenth-

century states by borrowing various ideas and administrative systems from western Europe,

though each of these new eastern states also retained its own distinctive political, social, and

cultural characteristics.

In the century after 1650 the old tsardom of Muscovy evolved into modern Russia.

Moving out from the region around Moscow, the Russians not only established them-

selves across northern Asia, reaching the Bering Sea about 1700, but also

entered into closer relations with Europe, undergoing especially in the

time of Tsar Peter the Great (1682–1725) a rapid process of Europeaniza-

tion. To what extent Russia became truly European has always been an

open question, disputed both by western Europeans and by Russians themselves. In some

ways the Russians had been European from as far back as Europe itself can be said to

have existed, that is, from the early Middle Ages. Ancient Russia had been colonized by

Vikings, and the Russians had become Christian long before the Swedes, the Lithuanians,

or the Finns.

Yet Russia had not been part of the general development of medieval and early

modern Europe for a number of reasons. Russia had been converted to the Greek Orthodox

branch of Christianity; therefore, the religious and cultural infl uence of Constantinople,

not of Rome, had predominated. Second, the Mongol invasions and conquest about 1240

had kept Russia under Asian domination for about 250 years, until 1480 when a grand

duke of Muscovy, Ivan III (1462–1505), was able to throw off the Mongol overlordship

and cease payment of tribute. Last, Russian geography, especially the lack of warm-water

or ice-free seaports, had made commerce and communication with western Europe diffi -

cult. Russia had therefore not shared in the general European economic development after

about 1100, and the changes that took place in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries

may accurately be called a kind of “Europeanization.” There was in this era a wholesale

Russian borrowing of the new knowledge and institutions that had developed in the early

The advances of

Frederick the Great

Europeanization

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21926. The Transformation of Russia

modern European states; and this Europeanizing of many Russian institutions was by no

means a unique thing. It was a step in the expansion of modern European forms of social

organization and hence in the formation of the modern world as we have known it in recent

centuries. Developing strategies for reform that other societies would also follow in later

historical eras, the Russians began to introduce western European methods of state and

economic organization while also seeking to protect their own interests and distinctive

cultural traditions.

In some ways the new Russian Empire resembled the new kingdom of

Prussia. Both took form in the great plain that runs uninterruptedly from the

North Sea into inner Asia. Both lacked natural frontiers and grew by addi-

tion of territories to an original nucleus. In both countries the state arose

primarily as a means of supporting a modern army. In both the government

developed autocratically, in conjunction with a landlord class that was brought into state

service and which in turn held the peasantry in serfdom. Neither Russia nor Prussia had a

strong commercial class or an urban banking system that could exert political infl uence.

In neither country could the modern state and army have been created without the impor-

tation of new skills from western Europe. Yet Prussia, with its German connections, its

Protestant religion, its universities, and its proximity to the busy commercial artery of the

Parallels with

Prussia

The uniforms of these Prussian soldiers in the era of King Frederick II (1740–1786) represent the status and importance of the military class in Prussian society during the eighteenth century. (akg-images/Newscom)

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Chapter 5 The Transformation of Eastern Europe, 1648–1740220

Baltic, was far more European than Russia, and the Europeanization of Russia may per-

haps better be compared with the later “westernization” of Japan. In the Russia of 1700, as

in the Japan of 1870, the main purpose of the administrative and social reformers was to

obtain scientifi c, technical, and military knowledge from the West, in part with a view to

strengthening their own countries against penetration or conquest by Europeans. Yet here

too the parallel must not be pushed too far. In time, the Russian upper classes intermar-

ried with Europeans and entered more widely than the later Japanese elites into European

cultural life. Russian music and literature eventually became well known and infl uential

among modern European intellectuals, and Russia itself developed a unique blend of Euro-

pean and central Asian cultural traits.

Russia before Peter the Great

The Russians in the seventeenth century, as today, were a medley of peoples distinguished

by their language, which was of the Slavic family, of the great Indo-European language

group. The Great Russians or Muscovites lived around Moscow. Moving out from that

area, they had penetrated the northern forests and had also settled in the southern steppes

and along the Volga, where they had assimilated various Asian peoples known as Tartars.

After two centuries of expansion, from roughly 1450 to 1650, the Russians had almost but

not quite reached the Baltic and the Black seas. The Baltic shore was held by Sweden. The

Black Sea coast was still held by Tartar Khans under the protection of Ottoman Turkey. In

the rough borderlands between Tartar and Russia lived the semi-independent cowboy-like

Cossacks, largely recruited from migratory Russians. West of Muscovy were the White

Russians (or Byelorussians) and southwest of Muscovy the Little Russians (Ruthenians or

Ukrainians), both in the seventeenth century under the rule of Poland, which was then the

leading Slavic power.

The energies of the Great Russians were directed principally eastward.

They conquered the Volga Tartars in the sixteenth century and reached the

Ural Mountains, which they immediately crossed. Muscovite pioneers, set-

tlers, and townbuilders streamed along the river systems of Siberia, felling

timber and trading in furs as they went. In the 1630s, while the English were building

Boston and the Dutch New York, the Russians were establishing towns in the vast Asian

stretches of Siberia, reaching to the Pacifi c itself. A whole string of settlements, remote,

small, and isolated—Tomsk and Tobolsk, Irkutsk and Yakutsk—extended for 5,000 miles

across northern Asia.

It was toward the vast heartland of central Asia that Muscovy really faced, looking out

upon Persia and China across the deserts. The bazaars of Moscow and Astrakhan were fre-

quented by Persians, Afghans, Indians, and Chinese. The Caspian Sea, into which fl owed

the Volga, the greatest of Russian rivers, was better known than was the Baltic. Europe

as viewed from Moscow was more distant and less accessible than other busy trading

centers to the south and east. During most of the seventeenth century even Smolensk and

Kiev belonged to Poland. Yet the Russians were not totally shut off from Europe. In 1552,

when Ivan the Terrible conquered Kazan from the Tartars, he had a German engineer in

his army. In the next year, 1553, Richard Chancellor arrived in Moscow from England by

the roundabout way of Archangel on the White Sea. Thereafter trade between England and

Muscovy was continuous. The tsars valued Archangel as their only inlet from the West

through which military materials could be imported. The English valued it as a means of

reaching the wares of Persia.

Russian expansion to

the east

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221

Russia in the seventeenth century refl ected its long estrangement from

the culture and social mores that had been developing in Europe. Women

of the upper classes were secluded and often wore veils. Men wore beards

and skirted garments that seemed exotic to Europeans. Customs also seemed

crude to European visitors; wild drunkenness and revelry alternated with mysterious rituals

of repentance and religious prostration. Traditional superstitions remained infl uential among

the highest classes of church and state; and murder, kidnapping, torture, and elaborate

physical cruelty were common forms of social control. The Russian church did not support

the kinds of educational or charitable institutions that the Catholic and Protestant churches

had established in western Europe. Churchmen feared the incipient European infl uences.

“Abhorred of God,” declared a Russian bishop, “is any who loves geometry; it is a spiritual

sin.” Even arithmetic was hardly understood in Russia. Arabic numerals were not used, and

merchants computed with the abacus. The calendar was dated from the creation of the world.

Ability to predict an eclipse seemed a form of magic. Clocks, brought in by Europeans,

seemed as wonderful in Russia as they did in China, where they were brought in by Jesuits

at about the same time.

Yet this great, non-European Russia, which fronted on inner Asia, was European in

some of its fundamental social institutions. It possessed a variant of the manorial and feu-

dal systems. It experienced the same wave of constitutional crises that was sweeping over

Europe at the same time. Russia had a duma or council of retainers and advisers to the tsar,

and the rudiments of a national assembly corresponding to meetings of the estates in west-

ern Europe. In Russia as in Europe the question was whether power should remain in the

hands of these bodies or become concentrated in the hands of the ruler. Ivan the Terrible,

who ruled from 1533 to 1584 and was the fi rst grand duke of Muscovy to assume the title

of tsar, 1 was a shrewd observer of contemporary events in Poland. He saw the dissolution

that was overtaking the Polish state and was determined to avoid it in Muscovy. His feroc-

ity toward those who opposed him made him literally terrible, but though his methods

differed from the methods commonly used in Europe, his aims were the aims of his

CHRONOLOGY OF NOTABLE EVENTS, 1640–1740

1640–1688 Frederick William, the Great Elector, develops state and military power in

Prussia

1663 Ottoman Empire begins new phase of expansion in Central Europe

1667–1671 Stephen Razin leads rebellion of rural population in Russia

1683 Ottoman imperial army is forced to abandon siege of Vienna

1698–1725 Tsar Peter the Great introduces European reforms in Russia

1711–1740 Habsburg King-Archduke Charles VI builds the Austrian Empire

1713–1740 King Frederick William I expands the army and wealth of the Prussian state

1 The Slavic word tsar, like the German Kaiser, derives from Caesar, a title used as a synonym for emperor in the Roman, the Holy Roman, and the Byzantine (or eastern Roman) Empires. The spelling czar, also common in English, reveals the etymology and the current English-language pronunciation, zar.

Russian estrangement

from Europe

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Chapter 5 The Transformation of Eastern Europe, 1648–1740222

European contemporaries. Not long after his death Russia passed into a period known as

the Time of Troubles (1604–1613), during which the Russian nobles elected a series of

tsars and demanded certain assurances of their own liberties. But the country was racked

by contending factions and a civil war in which the violence resembled the religious wars

in France or the Thirty Years’ War in central Europe.

In 1613 a national assembly, hoping to settle the troubles, elected a

17-year-old boy as tsar, or emperor, believing him young enough to have

no connection with any of the warring factions. The new boy tsar was

Michael Romanov, of a gentry family, related by marriage to the old line of

Ivan the Terrible. Thus was established, by vote of the political classes of the day, the

Romanov dynasty that ruled in Russia until 1917. The early Romanovs, aware of the fate

of elective monarchy in Poland and elsewhere, soon began to repress the representative

institutions of Russia and set up as absolute monarchs. Here again, though they were often

more lawless and violent than any European king, the Russian monarchs followed the gen-

eral pattern of contemporary Europe.

Nor can it be said that the main social development of the seventeenth

century in Russia, the sinking of the peasantry into an abyss of helpless

serfdom, was exclusively a Russian phenomenon. The same process gener-

ally took place in eastern Europe. Serfdom had long been overtaking the older free peas-

antry of Russia. In Russia, as in the American colonies, land was abundant and labor was

scarce. Labor therefore tended to migrate over the great Russian plain. In the Time of

Troubles, especially, there was a good deal of movement. The landlords, wishing to assure

themselves of their labor force, obtained the support of the Romanov tsars.

The manor, or what corresponded to it in Russia, came to resemble the slave planta-

tion of the New World. Laws against fugitive serfs were strengthened; lords won the right

to recover fugitives up to 15 years after their fl ight, and fi nally the time limit was abolished

altogether. Peasants came to be so little regarded that a law of 1625 authorized anyone kill-

ing another man’s peasant simply to give him another peasant in return. Lords exercised

police and judicial powers. By a law of 1646 landowners were required to enter the names

of all their peasants in government registers; peasants once so entered, together with their

descendants, were regarded as attached to the estate on which they were registered. Thus

the peasants lost the freedom to move at their own will. For a time they were supposed

to have secure tenure of their land; but a law of 1675 allowed the lords to sell peasants

without the land, and thus to move peasants like chattels at the will of the owner. This

sale of serfs without land, which made their condition more like slavery as then practiced

in America, became indeed a distinctive feature of serfdom in Russia, because in Poland,

Prussia, Bohemia, and other regions of serfdom, the serf was generally regarded as “bound

to the soil,” inseparable from the land.

Against the loss of their freedom the rural population of Russia protested as best it

could, murdering landlords, fl eeing to the Cossacks, taking refuge in a vagrant existence,

countered by wholesale government-organized manhunts and by renewed and more strin-

gent legislation. A tremendous uprising was led in 1667 by Stephen Razin, who gath-

ered a host of fugitive serfs, Cossacks, and adventurers, outfi tted a fl eet on the Caspian

Sea, plundered Russian vessels, defeated a Persian squadron, and invaded Persia itself. He

then turned back, ascended the Volga, killing and burning as he went and proclaiming a

war against landlords, nobles, and priests. Cities opened their gates to him; an army sent

against him went over to his side. He was fi nally captured and put to death in 1671. The

consequence of the rebellion, for over a century, was that serfdom was clamped on the

Russian peasants more fi rmly than ever.

The Romanovs

Serfdom in Russia

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223

Even from the church the increasingly wretched rural people drew

little comfort. The Russian Orthodox church at this time went through a

great internal crisis, and ended up as hardly more than a department of the

tsardom, useful to the government in instilling a pervasive, unquestioning

reverence for Holy Russia. The Russian church had historically looked

to the Patriarch of Constantinople as its head. But the conquest of Constantinople by

the Turks made the head of the Greek Orthodox church a merely tolerated inferior to the

Muslim sultan-caliph, so that the Russians in 1589 set up an independent Russian patriarch

of their own. In the following generations the Russian patriarchate fi rst became dependent

on, then was abolished by, the tsarist government.

In the 1650s the Russian patriarch undertook certain church reforms, mainly to correct

mistranslations in Russian versions of the Bible and other sacred writings. The changes

aroused the horror and indignation of the general body of believers. Deeply attached to the

mere form of the written word and believing the faith itself to depend on the customary spell-

ing of the name of Jesus, the malcontents saw in the reformers a band of cunning Greek

scholars perpetrating the work of Antichrist and the devil. The patriarch and higher church

offi cials forced through the reforms but only with the help of the government

and the army. Those who rejected the reforms came to be called Old Believers,

and they vehemently denounced every change in the texts and rituals of the

established church. More fanatical than the reform-minded clergy, agitated by

visionary preachers and dividing into innumerable sects, the Old Believers became very

numerous, especially among the peasants. Old Believers were active in Stephen Razin’s rebel-

lion and in all the sporadic peasant uprisings that followed. The peasants, already placed by

serfdom outside the protection of law, were now also estranged from the established religion.

A distrust of all organized authority settled over the Russian masses, to whom both church and

government seemed to serve as mere engines of repression.

Old Believers

Stephen Razin became an almost mythic fi gure in Russian popular memory after leading a vast peasant rebellion in the late 1660s. This painting by Vasily Ivanovich Surikov (1848–1916) suggests Razin’s later prominence in Russian culture and his symbolic status in modern social and political movements. (akg-images/Newscom)

The Russian

Orthodox church

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Chapter 5 The Transformation of Eastern Europe, 1648–1740224

But while willing enough to modernize sacred texts by correcting mistranslations from

the Greek, the Russian church offi cials resisted the kind of modernization that was coming

in from western Europe. They therefore opposed Peter the Great at the end of the century.

After 1700 no new patriarch was appointed. Peter put the church under a committee of

bishops called the Holy Synod, and to the Synod he attached a civil offi cial called the

Procurator of the Holy Synod. The Procurator was not a churchman but head of a govern-

ment bureau whose task was to see that the church did nothing displeasing to the tsar. Peter

thus secularized the church, making himself in effect its head. But while the consequences

were more extreme in Russia than elsewhere, it must again be noted that Peter’s control

of the church followed the general pattern of early modern Europe. Secular supervision of

religion had become the rule almost everywhere, especially in Protestant countries. Indeed

an Englishman of the time thought that Peter the Great, in doing away with the patriarchate

and putting the church under his own control, was wisely imitating England, which he had

visited in his youth.

Peter the Great: Foreign Affairs and Territorial Expansion

The Russia in which Peter the Great became tsar in 1682 was thus already European in

some ways and had in any case been in contact with western Europeans for over a century.

Without Peter, Russia would have developed its European connections more gradually.

Peter, by his tempo and methods, made the process a social revolution.

Peter obtained his fi rst knowledge of western Europe in Moscow itself,

where a part of the city known as the German quarter was inhabited by

Europeans of various nationalities, whom Peter often visited as a boy. Peter

also in his early years mixed with western travelers at Archangel, still Rus-

sia’s only port, for he was fascinated by the sea and took lessons in navigation on the White

Sea from Dutch and English ship captains. Like the Great Elector of Brandenburg, Peter as

a young man spent over a year in western Europe, especially Holland and England, where

he became profoundly aware of the commercial and technical backwardness of his own

country. He had considerable talents as a mechanic and organizer. He labored with his

own hands as a ship’s carpenter in Amsterdam and talked with political and business lead-

ers about the means for introducing the newer European organization and technology into

Russia. He visited workshops, mines, commercial offi ces, art galleries, hospitals, and forts.

Europeans saw him as a kind of alien genius, a giant of a man standing a head above most

others, bursting with physical vitality and plying all he met with interminable questions on

their manner of working and living. He had neither the refi nement nor the pretension of

Western monarchs; he mixed easily with workmen and technical people, dressed cheaply

and carelessly, loved horseplay and crude practical jokes, and dismayed his hosts by the

squalid disorder in which he and his companions left the rooms put at their disposal. A

man of acute practical mind, he was as little troubled by appearances as by moral scruples.

Peter on his visit to Europe in 1697–1698 recruited almost 1,000 experts for service

in Russia, and many more followed later. He cared nothing for the civilization of Europe

except as a means to an end, and this end was to create an army and a state that could stand

against the most powerful European states. His aim from the beginning was in part defen-

sive, to ward off the Poles, Swedes, and Turks who had long pushed against Russia; and

in part expansionist, to obtain warm-water seaports on the Baltic and Black seas, which

would offer year-round access to trade with Europe. For all but two years of his four-

decade reign Peter was at war.

Exposure to the West

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225

The Poles were a receding threat to Peter’s ambitions. A Polish prince

had indeed been elected tsar of Muscovy during the Time of Troubles, and

for a while the Poles aspired to conquer and Catholicize the Great

Russians. But in 1667 the Russians had regained Smolensk and Kiev, and the growing

anarchy in Poland made that country no longer a menace, except as the Swedes or others

might install themselves in Polish territories. The Ottoman Turks and their Tartar depen-

dencies, though no longer expanding, were still obstinate foes. Peter before going to

Europe managed in 1696 to capture Azov at the mouth of the Don, but he was unable to

hold any of the Black Sea coast; and he came to recognize the inferiority of the Russian

army during these campaigns. The Swedes were at this time the main enemy of Russia.

Their army, for its size, was still probably the best in Europe. They controlled the whole

eastern shore of the Baltic including the Gulf of Finland. In 1697, the Swedish king having

died, Peter entered into an alliance with Poland and Denmark to partition the overseas

possessions of the Swedish house.

The new king of Sweden, the youthful Charles XII, was in some ways

as crude as Peter (as an adolescent he had sheep driven into his rooms in

the palace in order to enjoy the warlike pleasure of killing them), but he

proved also to have remarkable aptitude as a general. In 1700, at the battle of Narva, with

an army of 8,000 men, he routed Peter’s 40,000 Russians. The tsar thus learned another

lesson on the need to reform and westernize his state and army. Fortunately for the

Russians Charles XII, instead of immediately pressing his advantage in Russia, spent the

following years in furthering Swedish interests in Poland, where he forced the Poles to

The Swedes

The aspirations of Peter the Great are suggested in this formal portrait of a monarch whose clothing and appearance resemble the style of western European elites in the early eighteenth century. (Scala/Art Resource, NY)

Polish threat recedes

26. The Transformation of Russia

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Chapter 5 The Transformation of Eastern Europe, 1648–1740226

elect the Swedish candidate as their king. Peter meanwhile, with his imported offi cers and

technicians, reformed the training, discipline, and weapons of the Russian army.

Eventually, Charles XII invaded Russia with a large and well-prepared force. Peter

used against him the strategy later used by the Russians against Napoleon and Adolf

Hitler; he drew the Swedes into the endless plains, exposing them to the Russian winter,

which happened to be an exceptionally severe one, and in 1709, at Poltava in south Russia,

he met and overwhelmed the demoralized remainder. The entire Swedish army was

destroyed at Poltava, only the king and a few hundred fugitives managing to escape across

the Turkish frontier. Peter in the next years was thus able to conquer Livonia and part of

eastern Finland. He landed troops near Stockholm itself. He campaigned in Pomerania

almost as far west as the Elbe. Never before had Russian infl uence reached so deeply into

Europe. The imperial day of Sweden was now over, terminated by Russia. Peter had won

for Russia a piece of the Baltic shore and with it warm-water outlets. These signifi cant

developments were confi rmed in the treaty of Nystadt, which ended the Great Northern

War (1700–1721) and opened the eastern Baltic to the ascending power of Russia.

War is surely not the father of all things, as has been sometimes

claimed, but these wars did a good deal to shape imperial Russia. The

undisciplined, poorly organized Russian army was transformed into a pro-

fessional force of the kind maintained by Sweden, France, or Prussia. The

elite of the old army had been the streltsi, a kind of Moscow guard, composed of nobles and constantly active in politics. A rebellion of the streltsi in 1698 had cut short Peter’s tour of Europe; he had returned and quelled the mutiny by ferocious use of torture and

execution, killing fi ve of the rebels with his own hands. The streltsi were liquidated only two years before the great Russian defeat at Narva. Peter then rebuilt the army from the

ground up. He employed European offi cers of many nationalities, paying them half again

as much as native Russians of the same grades. He fi lled his ranks with soldiers supplied

by districts on a territorial basis, somewhat as in Prussia. He put the troops into uniforms

resembling those of the western European armies, and he organized them in regiments of

standardized composition. He armed them with muskets and artillery of the kind used in

Europe and tried to develop a new service of supply.

With this army he not only drove the Swedes back into Sweden but also dominated

Russia itself. At the very time of the Swedish invasion large parts of the country were in

rebellion, as in the days of Stephen Razin, for the whole middle and lower Volga, together

with the Cossacks of the Don and Dnieper, rose against the tsar and rallied behind slogans

of class resentment and hatred of the tsar’s foreign experts. Peter crushed these distur-

bances with the usual ruthlessness. The Russian Empire, loose and heterogeneous, was

held together by military might.

While the Swedish war was still in progress, even before the decisive

battle of Poltava, Peter laid the foundations of a wholly new city in territory

conquered from the Swedes and inhabited not by Russians but by various

Baltic peoples. Peter named it St. Petersburg after himself and his patron

saint. From the beginning it was more truly a city than Louis’s spectacular

creation at Versailles established at almost the same time. Standing at the head of the Gulf

of Finland, it was Peter’s chief window on the West. Here he established the offi ces of

government, required noblemen to build town houses, and gave favorable terms to foreign

merchants and craftsmen to settle. Peter meant to make St. Petersburg a symbol of the new

Russia. It was a new city facing toward Europe and drawing the minds of the Russians west-

ward, replacing the old capital, Moscow, which faced toward Asia and was the stronghold

War and imperial

Russia

The founding of

St. Petersburg

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227

of opposition to his westernizing program. St. Petersburg soon became one of the leading

cities of northern Europe. It remained the capital of Russia (renamed Petrograd in 1914)

until the Revolution of 1917, when Moscow resumed its old role. After the Revolution

Petrograd became Leningrad. Its name reverted to St. Petersburg on the eve of the dissolu-

tion of the Soviet Union in 1991.

Internal Changes under Peter the Great

The new army, the new city, the new and expanding government offi ces all required

money, which in Russia was very scarce. Taxes were imposed on an inconceivable variety

of objects—on heads, as poll taxes; on land; on inns, mills, hats, leather, cellars, and coffi ns;

on the right to marry, sell meat, wear a beard, or be an Old Believer. The tax burden fell

mainly on the peasants; and to assure the payment of taxes the mobility of peasants was

further restricted. Borderline individuals were classifi ed as peasants in the government

records, so that serfdom became both more onerous and more nearly

universal. To raise government revenues and to stimulate production, Peter

adopted the mercantilist policies that Colbert had promoted in France. He

encouraged exports, built a fl eet on the Baltic, and developed mining, metal-

lurgy, and textiles, which were indispensable to the army. He organized

mixed groups of Russians and foreigners into commercial companies, provided them with

capital from government funds (little private capital being available), and gave them a labor

supply by assigning them the use of serfs in a given locality.

Serfdom, in origin mainly an agricultural institution, began to spread in

Russia as an industrial institution also. Serf owners obtained the right to sell

serfs without land, or to move them from landed estates into mines or

towns, which made it easier for industry in Russia to develop on the basis of unfree labor.

Nor were the employers of serfs, in these government enterprises, free to modify or aban-

don their projects at will. They too were simply in the tsar’s service. The economic system

rested largely on impressment of both management and labor, not on private profi t and

wages as in the increasingly capitalistic economies of western Europe. In this way Peter’s

efforts to force Russia to a European level of material productivity widened the social

differences between Russia and western Europe.

To oversee and operate this system of tax collecting, recruiting, eco-

nomic controls, serf hunting, and repression of internal rebellion Peter cre-

ated a new administrative system. The old organs of local self-government

wasted away. The duma and the national assembly, ineffective in that they

could not function without disorder, now disappeared. In their place Peter put a “senate”

dependent on himself, and 10 territorial areas called “governments,” or gubernii. The church he ruled through his Procurator of the Holy Synod. At the top of the whole structure was the

tsar himself, an absolute ruler and autocrat of “All the Russias.” Before his death, dissatisfi ed

with his son, he abolished the rule of hereditary succession to the tsardom, claiming the right

for each tsar to name his own successor. Transmission of supreme power was thus put out-

side the domain of law, and in the following century the accession of tsars and tsarinas was

marked by strife, conspiracy, and assassination. The whole system of centralized absolutism,

while in form resembling that of the absolutist European monarchies, notably France, was in

fact signifi cantly different, for it lacked legal regularity, was handicapped by the poor educa-

tion of many offi cials, and was imposed on a turbulent and largely unwilling population. The

empire of the Romanovs has been called a state without a people.

Mercantilism

encouraged

Serfs in industry

New administrative

system

26. The Transformation of Russia

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Chapter 5 The Transformation of Eastern Europe, 1648–1740228

Peter sought to assure the success of his reforms by developing what was called “state

service,” which his predecessors had already begun. Virtually all landowning and serf-

owning aristocrats were required to serve in the army or civil administration. Offi ces were

multiplied to provide places for all. In the state service birth counted for nothing. Peter

used men of all classes; Prince Dolgoruky was of the most ancient nobility, Prince Menshi-

kov had been a cook, the tax administrator Kurbatov was an ex-serf, and many others were

foreigners of unknown background. Status in Peter’s Russia depended not on inherited

rank, which Peter could not control, but on rank in his state service. “History,” wrote a

Scot serving in Peter’s army, “scarcely affords an example where so many people of low

birth have been raised to such dignities as in tsar Peter’s reign, or where so many of the

highest birth and fortune have been leveled to the lowest ranks of life.”

In this respect especially, Peter’s program resembled a true social rev-

olution. It created a new governing element in place of the old, almost what

in modern terms would be called a party, a body of radical reformers work-

ing zealously for the new system with a personal interest in its preservation.

These men, during Peter’s lifetime and after his death, were the bulwarks against an anti-

reform reaction; and they became the main agents in making Peter’s revolution stick. In

time the new families evolved into hereditary positions themselves. The priority of state

service over personal position was abandoned a generation after Peter’s death. Offi ces in

the army and government were fi lled by men of property and birth. After Peter’s revolu-

tion, as after some others, the new upper class became merged with the old.

Peter’s social

revolution

The construction of the city of St. Petersburg became the most important architectural proj- ect in Peter the Great’s long-term campaign to westernize Russian society. This new city was designed to be a western-looking capital and a new center for commercial contacts with west- ern Europe; like the construction of the French palace at Versailles, the Russian tsar’s archi- tectural goals required the labor of thousands of poor workers and peasants. (Bettmann/Corbis)

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229

Revolutionary also, suggesting the great French Revolution or the Russian Revolu-

tion of 1917, were Peter’s unconcealed contempt for everything reminiscent of the old

Russia and his zeal to reeducate his people in the new ways. He required all gentry to put

their sons in school. He sent many abroad to study. He simplifi ed the Russian alphabet.

He edited the fi rst newspaper to appear in Russia. He ordered the preparation of the fi rst

Russian book of etiquette, teaching his subjects not to spit on the fl oor, scratch them-

selves, or gnaw bones at dinner, to mix socially with women, take off their hats, converse

pleasantly, and look at people while talking. The beard he took as a symbol of Muscovite

backwardness; he forbade it in Russia, and himself shaved a number of men at his court.

He forced people to attend evening parties to teach them manners. He had no respect for

hereditary aristocracy, torturing or executing the highborn as readily as the peasants. As

for religion, Peter was described as a pious man who enjoyed singing in church, but he

was contemptuous of ecclesiastical dignity, and in one wild revel paraded publicly with

drunken companions clothed in religious vestments and mocking the priests. Like many

revolutionists since his time, he was aggressively secular.

The Results of Peter’s Revolution

Peter’s tactics provoked a strong reaction. Some adhered strictly to the old ways; oth-

ers simply thought that Peter was moving too fast and too indiscriminately toward the

new. Many Russians resented the inescapable presence of foreigners, who

often looked down on Russians and who enjoyed special privileges such as

the right of free exit from Russia and higher pay for similar employment.

One center around which malcontents rallied was the church. Another was

Peter’s son Alexis, who declared that when he became tsar he would put a stop to the

innovations and restore respect for the customs of old Russia. Peter, fearing his own son’s

collaboration with anti-reform conspirators, had Alexis tortured to death. He then ruled

that each tsar should choose his own successor. He would stop at nothing to remake Russia

in his own fashion.

Peter died in 1725, proclaimed “the Great” in his own lifetime by his admiring Senate.

Few persons in all history have exerted so strong an individual infl uence, which indirectly

became more far-reaching as the stature of Russia itself grew in later centuries. Though the

years after Peter’s death were years of turmoil and vacillation, his revolutionary changes

held fi rm against those who would undo them. It is not simply that he Europeanized Russia

and conquered a place on the Baltic; these developments might have come about in any

case. It is by the methods he used, his impatient forcing of a new culture on Russia, that he

set the future character of his empire. His harsh methods fastened autocracy, serfdom, and

bureaucracy more fi rmly upon the country. Yet he was able to reach only the upper classes.

Many of these became more Europeanized than he could dream, habitually speaking French

and living spiritually in France or in Italy. But as time went on many upper-class Russians,

because of their very knowledge of Europe, became impatient of the stolid immovability

of the peasants around them, felt estranged from their own country, or were troubled by

a guilty feeling that their position rested on the degradation and enslavement of human

beings. Russian psychology, often mysterious to later generations in western Europe could

perhaps be explained in part by the violent paradoxes set up by rapid Europeanization.

As for the peasant masses, they remained outside the new system, egregiously exploited,

separated from their rulers and their social superiors, regarded by them as brutes or

children, never sharing in any comparable way in their increasingly Europeanized

Resistance to reforms

26. The Transformation of Russia

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Chapter 5 The Transformation of Eastern Europe, 1648–1740230

civilization. Much of this worked itself out in the social confl icts of later

times. As for Peter’s own time, Russia by his efforts came clearly out of

its isolation, its social elites and government reorganized to play a part

in international affairs; and its history thenceforward was a part of the history of Europe

and increasingly of the world. Russia, like Prussia and the Austrian monarchy, was to be

counted among the powers of Europe.

The rising infl uence of these three monarchies depended in part on their ability to acquire

modern weaponry, organize more effi cient bureaucracies, and bring new forms of European

knowledge into their government institutions. By the beginning of the eighteenth century,

European science and technologies often gave European states a comparative advantage in

their economic, political, and military encounters with other peoples or governments—as

the ruling elites in Austria, Prussia, and Russia had learned from their own struggles for

THE GROWTH OF RUSSIA IN THE WEST At the accession of Peter the Great in 1682 the Russian Empire, expanding from the old grand duchy of Muscovy, had almost reached the Black and Baltic seas. Most of Peter’s conquests were in the Baltic region where he pushed back the Swedes and built St. Petersburg. Under Catherine the Great (1762–1796) Russia took part in the three partitions of Poland and also reached the Black Sea. Tsar Alexander I (1801–1825), thanks largely to the Napoleonic wars, was able to acquire still more of Poland and annex Finland and Bessarabia; he also made con- quests in the Caucasus. In the nineteenth century the western boundary of Russia remained stabilized, but additional gains were made in the Caucasus. Russia also spread over northern Asia in the seventeenth century, fi rst reaching the Pacifi c as early as 1630.

V o

lg a

R.

White Sea

Black Sea

C aspian

Sea

ARCTIC OCEAN

Ba lti

c Se

a

SWEDEN

POLAND

O T T O M A N E M P I R E

Archangel

Moscow

Warsaw

Constantinople

Kiev

Azov Astrakhan

Smolensk

Muscovy in 1462

Acquisitions 1462–1682

V o

lg a

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White Sea

Black Sea

C aspian

Sea ARCTIC OCEAN

Ba ltic

Se a

SWEDEN

POLAND

O T T O M A N E M P I R E

INGRIA AND LIVONIA, 1720

C A U C A S U S

Archangel

Moscow

Warsaw

Constantinople

Kiev

Azov Astrakhan

Smolensk

St. Petersburg

Russia in 1682

Acquisitions of Peter the Great, 1682–1725

Exclusion of peasants

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231

V o

lg a

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White Sea

Black Sea

C aspian

Sea

ARCTIC OCEAN

Bal tic

Se a

SWEDEN

POLAND

O T T O M A N E M P I R E

FINLAND 1808

1772

179317951815

BESSARABIA 1812

YEDISAN 1792 KRIM

TARTARS 1783

MINGRELIA 1803

GEORGIA 1801

DAGHESTAN 1813

Archangel

Moscow

Warsaw

Constantinople

Kiev

Azov Astrakhan

Smolensk

St. Petersburg

Russia in 1725

Acquisitions 1725–1815

V o

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White Sea

Black Sea

C a sp

ian Sea

ARCTIC OCEAN

Bal tic

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O T T O M A N E M P I R E

FINLAND

C A U C A S U S

CIRCASSIA 1829

KARS 1878

Archangel

Moscow

Warsaw

Constantinople

Kiev

Azov Astrakhan

Smolensk

St. Petersburg

Russia in 1815

Acquisitions 1815–1914

power in central Europe. Indeed, the new science would ultimately become one of the most

distinctive and signifi cant forces in modern world history. Science helped to transform eco-

nomic production, military strategies, and traditional cultures as well as imperial confl icts

in Europe and around the world. We must therefore look more closely at the ways in which

the development of modern scientifi c thought increasingly infl uenced the knowledge and

control of both nature and human beings.

26. The Transformation of Russia

For suggested further readings and useful Web sites, interactive exercises, glossary, chronologies,

and more, go to the Online Learning Center at www.mhhe.com/palmerhistory11e .

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233

C h a p t e r 6 THE SCIENTIFIC VIEW

OF THE WORLD

The seventeenth century  has been called the cen- tury of genius, in part because it was the age when

science became “modern.” It was the great age of

Galileo and Sir Isaac Newton, whose combined life-

times spanned the century, with Galileo dying and

Newton being born in the same year, 1642. When

Galileo was young, those who studied the natural

world still labored largely in the dark, isolated from

one another and from the general public, working

oftentimes by methods of trial and error, not alto-

gether clear on what they were trying to do, with

their thinking still complicated by ideas not nowa-

days considered scientifi c. They had nevertheless

accomplished a good deal, without which the intel-

lectual revolution of the seventeenth century would not have occurred. But in a way all sci-

entifi c investigators before Galileo seem to be precursors, patient workers destined never to

enter into the world toward which they labored. By 1727, when Newton died, a new interna-

tional scientifi c community had emerged. Scientists, or “natural philosophers” as they were

then called, communicated regularly with one another, and science was recognized as one of

the principal enterprises of European society. Although the word “scientist” was not used

until the early nineteenth century, scientifi c methods of inquiry had been defi ned. The store

of factual knowledge had become very large. The fi rst modern scientifi c synthesis, or coher-

ent theory of the physical universe, had been presented by Newton. Scientifi c knowledge

was applied increasingly to navigation, mining, agriculture, and many branches of manufac-

ture. Science and invention were joining hands. Science was accepted as the main force in

the advancement of civilization and progress. And science was becoming popularized; many

people who were not themselves scientists “believed” in science and attempted to apply

scientifi c habits of thought to diverse problems of social and political life.

The history of science is too complex a story to be told in this book,

but there are a few ideas about it that even a book of this kind must attempt

to make clear. First, science, purely as a form of thought, is one of the Science

27. The Emergence of a

Scientifi c Culture: Bacon

and Descartes

28. The Road to Newton:

The Law of Universal

Gravitation

29. New Knowledge of Human

Beings and Society

30. Political Theory:

The School of Natural Law

Chapter emblem: Scholar Holding a Thesis on Botany, by the seventeenth-century artist Willem Moreelse.

(Toledo Museum of Art)

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Chapter 6 The Scientifi c View of the World234

supreme achievements of the human mind, and to have a historical understanding of human

intellectual powers one must sense the importance of science, as of philosophy, literature,

or the arts. Second, science has increasingly affected practical affairs, entering into the

health, wealth, and happiness of humankind. It has changed the size of populations and the

use of raw materials, revolutionized methods of production, transport, business, and war,

and so helped to relieve some human problems while aggravating others. This is especially

true of modern civilization since the seventeenth century. Third, in the modern world ideas

have had a way of passing over from science into other domains of thought. Many peo-

ple today, for example, in their notions of themselves, their neighbors, or the meaning of

life, are infl uenced by ideas that they believe to be those of Freud or Einstein—they talk

of repressions or relativity without necessarily knowing much about them. Ideas derived

from biology and from Darwin—such as evolution and the struggle for existence—have

likewise spread far and wide. Similarly the scientifi c revolution of the seventeenth century

had repercussions far beyond the realm of pure science. It changed many European ideas

about religion, God, nature, and human beings. It helped to shape and spread infl uential

new beliefs, such as that the physical universe is essentially orderly and harmonious, that

human reason is capable of understanding and using it for social purposes, and that human

affairs can be conducted by methods of peaceable exchange of ideas and rational discus-

sion. Thus was laid a foundation for belief in free and democratic institutions.

The historical infl uence of modern science therefore extended far beyond the specifi c

knowledge that transformed the human understanding and use of nature. Scientifi c methods

for establishing truth or defi ning progress shaped a wide range of modern social institu-

tions, including armies, hospitals, universities, trading companies, government bureaucra-

cies, law courts, and even literary journals. The meaning of the word “modern” became

linked to the intellectual prestige of science, and scientifi c knowledge became the most

distinctive and important new intellectual force in modern Europe and the wider modern

world. The purpose of this chapter is to sketch the rise of modern science in the seventeenth

century and the emergence of the scientifi c view of the world and of human affairs. The

chapters that follow will describe the increasing application of this new knowledge in the

expanding global economy and the infl uence of scientifi c thought in eighteenth-century

European culture, which is generally known as the Age of Enlightenment.

27. THE EMERGENCE OF A SCIENTIFIC CULTURE: BACON AND DESCARTES

Science before the Seventeenth Century

The scientifi c view became characteristic of elite European society about the middle of the

seventeenth century. There had, indeed, been a few in earlier times who caught glimpses

of a whole civilization reared upon science. To us today the most famous of

these earlier scientifi c thinkers is Leonardo da Vinci (1452–1519), the uni-

versal genius of the Italian Renaissance, who had been artist, engineer, and

scientifi c theorist all in one. Leonardo, by actual dissection of dead bodies,

had obtained an accurate knowledge of human anatomy; he had conceived of the circula-

tion of the blood and the movement of the earth about the sun; and he had drawn designs

for submarines and airplanes and speculated on the use of parachutes and poison gases. But

Leonardo had not published his scientifi c ideas. He was known almost exclusively as an

artist. His work in science remained outside the stream of scientifi c thought, without infl uence

Leonardo da Vinci

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23527. The Emergence of a Scientifi c Culture: Bacon and Descartes

on its course. It was not even known until the discovery of his private notebooks in the

twentieth century. Leonardo thus fi gures in the history of science as an isolated genius,

a man of brilliant insights and audacious theories, which died with their author’s death,

whereas science depends on a transmission of ideas in which investigators build upon one

another’s discoveries, test one another’s experiments, and fi ll in the gaps in one another’s

knowledge. Modern science evolved as a kind of new cultural system, more dependent on

communications and widely shared cultural beliefs than on the brilliance of isolated think-

ers. Leonardo’s scientifi c work, remaining unpublished, never entered the cultural institu-

tions in which new scientifi c knowledge would be produced, challenged, and revised.

A century after the death of Leonardo da Vinci educated Europeans were by no

means scientifi cally minded. Among thoughtful persons many currents were stirring. On

the one hand there was a great deal of skepticism, a constantly doubting frame of mind,

which held that no certain knowledge is possible for human beings at all, that all beliefs

are essentially only customs, that some people believe one thing and some another, and

that there is no sound way of choosing between them. This attitude was best expressed by

the French essayist Michel de Montaigne (1533–1592), whose thought distilled itself

into an eternal question, Que sais-je? “What do I know?” with the always implied answer, “Nothing.” Montaigne’s philosophy led to a tolerant, humane, and broad-minded out-

look, but as a system of thought it was not otherwise very constructive. On the other

hand, there was also a tendency to overbelieve in mysterious, supernatural powers, aris-

ing from the same inability to distinguish between true and false. There was no accepted

line between chemistry and alchemy or between astronomy and astrology; all alike were

regarded as ways of penetrating the “secrets” of nature. The sixteenth century had been a

great age of charlatans, such as Nostradamus and Paracelsus, some of whom, notably

Paracelsus, mixed magic and valid science in a way hardly understandable to modern

scientists. As late as the seventeenth century, especially in central Europe where the

Thirty Years’ War produced chaos and terror, kings and generals kept private astrologers

to divine the future.

The two centuries from about 1450 to about 1650 were also the period

when fear of witches was at its height. The great campaign against witches

thus coincided with Europe’s brutal religious wars and also with the early

development of the new scientifi c culture among members of Europe’s educated elite, but

even highly educated persons often believed that witches actually existed. Witches were

blamed for all kinds of natural disasters and personal tragedies—bad harvests, epidemics,

the mysterious deaths of children. Although most of the persons prosecuted for witchcraft

were women, men were also imprisoned or executed for various crimes of “sorcery.” The

witchcraft panic lasted longest in Germany and central Europe, probably kept alive by the

insecurities engendered by the Thirty Years’ War. But about 20 persons were hanged as

witches in Massachusetts as late as 1692, for the English colonies, as a remote and outly-

ing part of the European world, were among the last to feel the newer intellectual currents

that were spreading across Europe. The last known execution for witchcraft took place in

1722 in Scotland.

It was by no means clear, in the early part of the seventeenth century, how Euro-

pean societies were going to develop. Europe might conceivably have fallen into a kind

of pervasive political chaos. We have seen how much of Europe was racked by chronic

and marauding violence, which was gradually ended by the consolidation of the modern

state and the conversion of armed bands into organized and disciplined armies; but this

more orderly political outcome was by no means apparent during the decades of the Thirty

Witchcraft panic

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Chapter 6 The Scientifi c View of the World236

Years’ War and the revolutionary upheavals in England. Similarly, in matters of the mind,

there was no settled order. Doubt went with superstition, indifference with persecution.

Science in time provided Europe with a new faith in itself. The rise of science in the seven-

teenth century possibly saved European civilization from drifting into a long postmedieval

afterglow or from wandering off into the diverse, dead-end paths of endless skepticism,

ineffectual philosophizing, desultory magic, or mad fear of the unknown.

Bacon and Descartes

Two men stand out as prophets of an intellectual world reconstructed by science. One was

the Englishman Francis Bacon (1561–1626); the other was the Frenchman René Descartes

(1596–1650). Both published their most infl uential books between 1620 and 1640. Both

addressed themselves to the problem of knowledge. Both asked themselves how it is pos-

sible for human beings to know anything with certainty or to have a reliable, truthful, and

usable knowledge of the world of nature. Both shared in the doubts of their day. They

branded virtually all beliefs of preceding generations (outside religion) as worthless. Both

ridiculed the tendency to put faith in ancient books, to cite the writings of Aristotle or oth-

ers, on questions having to do with the workings of nature. Both attacked earlier methods

of seeking knowledge; they rejected the methods of the “schoolmen” or “scholastics,” the

thinkers in the academic tradition of the universities founded in the Middle Ages. On the

Women were executed on charges of witchcraft from the later Middle Ages down through the seventeenth century, when a new fear of witches happened to coincide with the early modern scientifi c revolution. This mid-seventeenth-century English illustration shows a typical pattern of persecution in which several women were put to death at the same time for the alleged crime of “sorcery” or conspiring with “witches.” (Topham/The Image Works)

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237

whole, medieval philosophy had been deductive. That is, its characteristic procedure was

to start with defi nitions and general propositions and then discover what further knowl-

edge could be logically deduced from the broad defi nitions thus accepted. Or it proceeded

by affi rming the inherent nature of an object (e.g., “man is a political animal”) and then

describing how objects of such a nature do or should behave. These methods, which owed

much to Aristotle and other ancient codifi ers of human thought, had generally ceased to be

fruitful in producing new knowledge of nature. Bacon and Descartes held that the medi-

eval (or Aristotelian) methods approached truth from the wrong direction. They held that

truth is not something that we postulate at the beginning and then explore in all its rami-

fi cations, but that it is something that we fi nd at the end, after a long process of specifi c

investigation, experiment, and intermediate thought.

Bacon and Descartes therefore went beyond mere doubt and proposed a new analyti-

cal method to challenge the cultural drift toward skepticism. They offered a constructive

program, and though their programs were different, they both became advocates for a sci-

entifi c conception of objective truth. They maintained that there was a true and reliable

method of knowledge. And they maintained in addition that once this true method was

known and practiced, once the real workings of nature were understood, people would be

able to use this knowledge for their own purposes, control nature in their own interests,

make useful inventions, improve their mechanical arts, and add generally to human wealth

and comfort. Bacon and Descartes thus argued that science provided a new

foundation for human progress as well as objective knowledge about the

natural world.

Francis Bacon planned a great work in many volumes, to be known

as the Instauratio Magna or “Great Renewal,” calling for a complete new start in science and civilization. He completed only two parts. One, pub-

lished in 1620, was the Novum Organum or new method of acquiring knowledge. Here he insisted on the inductive method. In the inductive method we proceed from the particular to the general, from the concrete to the abstract. For example, in the study of leaves, if we

examine millions of actual leaves of all sizes and shapes and if we assemble, observe, and

compare them with minute scrutiny, we are using an inductive method in the sense meant by Bacon; if successful, we may arrive at a knowledge, based on observed facts, of the

general nature of a leaf as such. If, on the other hand, we begin with a general idea of what

we think all leaves are like, that is, all leaves have stems, and then proceed to describe

an individual leaf on that basis, we are following the deductive method; we draw logical implications from what we already know, but we learn no more of the nature of a leaf than

what we knew or thought we knew at the beginning.

Bacon advised his readers to put aside all traditional ideas, to rid themselves of preju-

dices and preconceptions, to look at the world with fresh eyes, to observe and study the

innumerable things that are actually perceived by the senses. Thinkers before Bacon used

the inductive method, but he formalized it as a method and became a leading philoso-

pher of empiricism, which asserted that reliable knowledge must be based on observation

and experience. This philosophy has always proved a useful safeguard against fi tting facts

into preconceived or purely abstract patterns. It demands that we let our ideas and actions

be shaped by actual facts as we observe them. The new scientifi c knowledge thus linked

particular facts to general principles and typically combined inductive method with the

broader claims of deductive thought. The knowledge that developed from such empiri-

cal and analytical methods came to be viewed as stable truths that did not simply express

the subjective beliefs of a particular person or cultural tradition; indeed, such knowledge

Francis Bacon and

empiricism

27. The Emergence of a Scientifi c Culture: Bacon and Descartes

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Chapter 6 The Scientifi c View of the World238

seemed to offer truths that all people could accept, no matter how they might otherwise

differ in their religious beliefs, cultural traditions, or social ranks.

The other completed part of Bacon’s great work, published in 1623, was called in its

English translation The Advancement of Learning. Here Bacon developed the same ideas and insisted also that true knowledge was useful knowledge. In The New Atlantis (1627), he portrayed a scientifi c utopia whose inhabitants enjoyed a perfect society through their

knowledge and command of nature. This emphasis on the usefulness of knowledge became

the other main element in the Baconian tradition. In this view there was no sharp differ-

ence between pure science and applied science or between the work of the purely scientifi c

investigators and that of the inventors who in their own way probed into nature and devised

instruments or machines for putting natural forces to work. The fact that knowledge could

be used for practical purposes became a sign or proof that it was true knowledge. For

example, the fact that soldiers could aim their cannon and hit their targets more accurately

in the seventeenth century became a proof of the theory of ballistics that scientists had

worked out in research that was far removed from a battlefi eld. Enthusiastic Baconians

believed that knowledge was power. True knowledge could be put to work, if not immedi-

ately at least in the long run, after more knowledge was discovered. It was useful to man-

kind, unlike the “delicate learning” of the misguided scholastics. In this coming together

of knowledge and power arose the far-reaching modern idea of progress. And in it arose

many modern problems, because the power given by scientifi c knowledge can be used for

either good or evil.

But Bacon, though a force in redirecting the European mind, never had much infl u-

ence on the development of actual science. Kept busy as Lord Chancellor of England and

in other government duties, he was not even fully abreast of the most advanced scientifi c

thought of his day. Bacon’s greatest intellectual weakness was his failure to understand the

role of mathematics. Mathematics, dealing with pure abstractions and proceeding deduc-

tively from axioms to theorems, was not an empirical or inductive method of thought such

as Bacon demanded. Yet science in the seventeenth century went forward most success-

fully in subjects where mathematics could be applied. Even today the degree to which a

subject is truly scientifi c depends on the degree to which it can be made mathematical. We

have pure science where we have formulas and equations, and the scientifi c method itself

is both inductive and deductive.

Descartes was a great mathematician in his own right. He is considered

the inventor of coordinate geometry. He showed that by use of coordinates

(or graph paper, in simple language) any algebraic formula could be plotted

as a curve in space, and contrariwise that any curve in space, however complex, could be

converted into algebraic terms and thus dealt with by methods of calculation. His general

philosophy therefore contributed to the growing scientifi c belief that the vast world of

nature could be reduced to mathematical form.

Descartes set forth his ideas in his Discourse on Method in 1637 and in many more technical writings. He advanced the principle of systematic doubt. He began by trying

to doubt everything that could reasonably be doubted, thus sweeping away past ideas

and clearing the ground for his own “great renewal,” to use Bacon’s phrase. Despite this

far-reaching skepticism, however, he held that he could not doubt his own existence as

a thinking and doubting being ( cogito ergo sum, “I think, therefore I exist”). He then deduced, by systematic reasoning, the existence of God and much else. He arrived at a phi-

losophy of dualism, the famous “Cartesian dualism,” which held that God has created two

kinds of fundamental reality in the universe. One was “thinking substance”—mind, spirit,

René Descartes

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239

consciousness, subjective experience. The other was “extended substance”—everything

outside the mind and hence a material reality that could be understood through objective

knowledge. Of everything except the mind itself the most fundamental and universal qual-

ity was that it occupied a portion of space, minute or vast. Space itself was conceived as

infi nite and everywhere geometric.

This philosophy had profound and long-lasting effects. For one thing, the seemingly

most real elements in human experience, color and sound, joy and grief, seemed somehow

to be shadowy and unreal, or perhaps illusory, with no objective existence outside the mind

itself. But all else was quantitative, measurable, reducible to formulas or equations. Over

all else, over the whole universe or half-universe of extended substance, the most powerful

instrument available to the human understanding, namely, mathematics, reigned supreme.

“Give me motion and extension,” said Descartes, “and I will build you the world.”

Descartes also shared Bacon’s belief in empirical research, useful knowledge, and

human progress. Instead of the “speculative philosophy of the schools,” he wrote in the

Discourse on Method, one might discover a “practical philosophy by which, understanding the forces and action of fi re, water, air, the stars and heavens and all other bodies that sur-

round us, . . . we can use these forces . . . and so make ourselves the masters and possessors

of nature. And this is desirable not only for the invention of innumerable devices . . . , but

mainly also for the preservation of health, which is undoubtedly the principal good and

foundation of all other good things in this life.” Science, in short, opened the way to a bet-

ter life than philosophy alone could ever produce.

RENÉ DESCARTES by Frans Hals (1584–1666)

Descartes worked for many years in Amsterdam, where he developed his work in math- ematics, described his philo- sophical methods of systematic doubt, and sat for this famous portrait by Frans Hals. (Erich Lessing/Art Resource, NY)

27. The Emergence of a Scientifi c Culture: Bacon and Descartes

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Chapter 6 The Scientifi c View of the World240

28. THE ROAD TO NEWTON: THE LAW OF UNIVERSAL GRAVITATION

Scientifi c Advances

Meanwhile actual scientifi c discovery was advancing on many fronts as

new “natural philosophers” shared information in the emerging networks of

scientifi c communication. The new knowledge did not advance on all fronts

with equal speed. Some of the sciences were, and long remained, depen-

dent mainly on the collection of specimens. Botany was one of these; Europe’s knowl-

edge of plants expanded enormously with the explorations overseas. New edible plants

were brought from the Americas, and the botanical gardens and herb collections in Europe

also became far more extensive than ever before, bringing important enlargements in the

stock of medicinal drugs as well as new foods. Other sciences drew their impetus from

intensive and open-minded observation. In 1543 the Flemish physician Andreas Vesalius

published The Structure of the Human Body, an infl uential book that renewed and mod- ernized the study of anatomy. Formerly anatomists had generally held that the writings of

Galen, dating from the second century c.e., contained an authoritative description of all

human muscles and tissues. They had indeed dissected cadavers but had dismissed those

not conforming to Galen’s description as somehow abnormal or not typical. Vesalius, by

contrast, decided on the basis of his own careful dissections that Galen’s descriptions of

the human body were often wrong. Developing comprehensive accounts of the human

skeleton, organs, and circulatory system with detailed references to the actual bodies he

examined, Vesalius constructed what historians of science would describe as a new “para-

digm” for the later study of human anatomy.

In physiology also, dealing with the functioning rather than the structure of living

bodies, there was considerable progress. Here the method of laboratory experiments could

be profi tably used. William Harvey, after years of laboratory work in England (which

included the vivisection of animals), published in 1628 a book On the Movement of the Heart and Blood, which set forth the doctrine of the continual circulation of the blood through arteries and veins. The Italian Marcello Malpighi, using the newly invented micro-

scope, confi rmed Harvey’s fi ndings by the discovery of capillaries in 1661. The Dutch

scientist Antoine van Leeuwenhoek, also by use of the microscope, provided new informa-

tion about blood corpuscles, spermatozoa, and bacteria, of which he left published draw-

ings. Another seventeenth-century Dutch scientist, Régnier de Graaf, published the fi rst

description of the female ovaries, thus challenging Galen’s ancient theories of human

sexuality and the long-accepted idea that women contributed less than men to the biologi-

cal processes of reproduction.

These sciences, and also chemistry, although work in them went for-

ward continually, did not come fully into their own until after 1800. They

were long overshadowed by astronomy and physics. Here mathematics

could be most fully applied, and mathematics underwent a rapid develop-

ment in the seventeenth century. Decimals came into use to express fractions, the symbols

used in algebra were improved and standardized, and in 1614 logarithms were invented by

the Scot John Napier. Coordinate geometry was mapped out by Descartes, the theory of

probabilities was developed by Blaise Pascal, and calculus was invented simultaneously

in England by Newton and in Germany by Leibniz. These advances made it more gener-

ally possible to think about nature in purely quantitative terms, to measure with greater

Botany, anatomy,

and physiology

Astronomy and

physics

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24128. The Road to Newton: The Law of Universal Gravitation

precision, and to perform complex and laborious computations. Physics and astronomy

were remarkably stimulated, and it was in this fi eld that the most infl uential scientifi c revo-

lution of the seventeenth century took place.

The Scientifi c Revolution: Copernicus to Galileo

Ever since Ptolemy had codifi ed ancient astronomy in the second century c.e., educated

Europeans had held a conception of the cosmos that we call Ptolemaic. The cosmos in this

ancient Greek view was a group of concentric spheres, a series of balls within

balls each having the same center. The innermost ball was the earth, made

up of hard, solid, earthy substance such as people were familiar with under-

foot. The other spheres, encompassing the earth in series of closer or more

distant geometric circles, were all transparent. They were the “crystalline spheres” made

known to us by the poets; their harmony was the “music of the spheres.” These spheres all

revolved about the earth, each sphere containing, set in it as a jewel, a luminous heavenly

body or orb that moved about the earth with the movement of its transparent sphere. Near-

est to the earth was the sphere of the moon; then, in turn, the spheres of Mercury and Venus,

then the sphere of the sun, then those of the outer planets. Last came the outermost sphere

containing all the fi xed stars studded in it, all moving majestically about the earth in daily

motion, but motionless with respect to each other because they were held fi rmly in the same

sphere. Beyond the sphere of the fi xed stars, in general belief, lay the “empyrean,” the home

of angels and immortal spirits; but this was not a matter of natural science.

The Ptolemaic system

A SCHOLAR HOLDING A THESIS ON BOTANY by Willem Moreelse (Dutch, before 1630–1666)

This scholar may be a new doc- tor of the University of Utrecht, where the little-known painter Willem Moreelse worked in the seventeenth century. Crowned with the laurel, the success- ful candidate proudly displays his thesis, on which the Latin words announce “any plant shows the presence of God”— an example of the growing scientifi c interest in hitherto unknown plants that reached Europe from other parts of the world in this era. (Toledo Museum of Art)

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Chapter 6 The Scientifi c View of the World242

Persons standing on the earth and looking up into the sky thus felt themselves to be

enclosed by a dome in which their own position was the center. In the blue sky of day

they could literally see the crystalline spheres; in the stars at night they could behold the

orbs that these spheres carried with them. All revolved about the observer, presumably at

no very alarming distance. The celestial bodies were commonly supposed to be of differ-

ent material and quality from the earth. The earth was of heavy dross; the stars and planets

and the sun and moon seemed made of pure and gleaming light, or at least of a bright ethe-

real substance almost as tenuous as the crystal spheres in which they moved. The cosmos

was a hierarchy of ascending perfection. The heavens were purer than the earth.

This Ptolemaic or geocentric system corresponded to actual appearances, and except

for scientifi c knowledge would be highly believable today. It was formulated also in rigor-

ous mathematical terms. Ever since the Greeks, and becoming increasingly intricate in the

Middle Ages, a complex geometry had grown up to explain the observed motion of the

heavenly bodies. The Ptolemaic system was a mathematical system. And it was for purely

mathematical reasons rather than from empirical observations that it fi rst came to be recon-

sidered. There was a marked revival of mathematical interest at the close of the Middle

Ages, in the fourteenth and fi fteenth centuries, a renewed concentration on the philosophi-

cal traditions of Pythagoras and Plato. In these philosophies could be found the doctrine

that numbers might be the fi nal key to the mysteries of nature. With them went a meta-

physical belief that simplicity was more likely to be a sign of truth than complexity and

that a simpler mathematical formulation was better than a more complicated one.

These ideas motivated Nicholas Copernicus (1473–1543), born in

Poland of German and Polish background, who, after study in Italy, wrote

his epochal work On the Revolutions of the Heavenly Orbs. In this book, published in 1543 after his death, he held the sun to be the center of the solar system and of

the whole universe; the earth, he argued, was one of the planets revolving in space around

it. This view had been entertained by a few isolated thinkers before. Copernicus gave a

mathematical demonstration. To him it was a purely mathematical problem. With increas-

ingly detailed knowledge of the actual movement of the heavenly bodies it had become

necessary, as the years passed, to make the Ptolemaic system more intricate by the addition

of new “cycles” and “epicycles,” until, as John Milton expressed it later, the cosmos was

With Centric and Concentric scribbled o’er, Cycle and Epicycle, Orb in Orb.

Copernicus needed fewer such hypothetical constructions to explain the known move-

ments of the heavenly bodies. The heliocentric or sun-centered theory was mathematically

simpler than the geocentric or earth-centered theory that it would gradually displace.

The Copernican doctrine long remained a hypothesis known only to experts. Most

astronomers for a time hesitated to accept it, seeing no need, from the evidence yet pro-

duced, to make such a radical readjustment of the older Ptolemaic paradigm. Tycho Brahe

(1546–1601), the greatest authority on the actual positions and movements of the heavenly

bodies in the generations immediately after Copernicus, never accepted the Copernican

system in full. But his assistant and follower, Johannes Kepler (1571–1630), building on

Tycho’s exact observations, not only accepted the Copernican theory but

carried it further.

Kepler, a German, was a kind of mathematical mystic, part-time

astrologer, and scientifi c genius. Copernicus had believed the orbits of the

planets about the sun to be perfect circles. Tycho showed that this belief did not fi t the

observable facts. It was Kepler who discovered that the orbits of the planets were ellipses.

Nicholas Copernicus

Johannes Kepler

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243

The ellipse, like the circle, is an abstract mathematical fi gure with knowable properties.

Kepler demonstrated that the closer a planet is to the sun in its elliptical orbit, the faster it

moves; and he showed that the length of time in which the several planets revolve about

the sun varies proportionately with their distance from the sun.

It is not possible for most people to understand the mathematics involved, but it is

possible to realize the astounding implications of Kepler’s laws of planetary motion.

Kepler showed that the actual world of stubborn facts, as observed by Tycho, and the

purely rational world of mathematical harmony, as surmised by Copernicus, were not

really in any contradiction to each other—that they really corresponded exactly. Why they

should he did not know; it was the mystery of numbers. He digested an overwhelming

amount of hitherto unexplained information into a few brief statements. He showed a cos-

mic mathematical relationship between space and time. And he described the movement of

the planets in explicit formulas, which any competent person or scientifi c community

could verify at will.

The international character of early modern scientifi c culture can be

seen in the next important contributions of the Italian Galileo (1564–1642). Galileo

The Copernican conception of a solar system revolving around the sun was long unknown out- side a small circle of experts, and few persons understood the mathematics upon which it was based. But the meaning of the Copernican theories later spread in visual images that depicted the new astronomical view of the sun, earth, and other planets. (Enzo & Paolo Ragazzini/Corbis)

28. The Road to Newton: The Law of Universal Gravitation

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Chapter 6 The Scientifi c View of the World244

So far the question of the substance of the heavenly bodies had hardly been reconsidered.

Indeed, they were not thought of as bodies at all, but rather as orbs. Only the sun and

moon had any dimension; stars and planets were only points of light; and the theories of

Copernicus and Kepler, like those of Ptolemy, might apply to insubstantial luminous

objects in motion. In 1609 Galileo built a telescope. Turning it to the sky, he perceived that

the moon had a rough and apparently mountainous surface, as if made of the same kind of

material as the earth. Seeing clearly the dark part of the moon in its various phases, and not-

ing that in every position it only refl ected the light of the sun, he concluded that the moon

was not itself a luminous object, another indication that it might be made of earthlike sub-

stance. He saw spots on the sun, as if the sun were not pure and perfect. He found that the

planets had visible breadth when seen in the telescope but that the fi xed stars remained only

points of light, as if incalculably further away. He discovered also that Jupiter had satel-

lites, moons moving around it like the moon around the earth. These discoveries reassured

him of the validity of the Copernican theory, which he had in any case already accepted.

They suggested also that the heavenly bodies might be of the same substance as the earth,

masses of matter moving in space; and if the heavenly bodies consisted of matter, it became

easier to think of the earth itself as simply another heavenly body revolving about the sun.

The difference between the earth and the heavens was disappearing. This struck a terrifying

blow at all earlier philosophy and theology. Some professors were afraid to look through

the telescope, and Galileo was condemned for heresy and forced by his church to renounce

his description of the solar system; but he never really changed his scientifi c views.

Moreover, where Kepler had found mathematical laws describing the movement of

planets, Galileo now found mathematical laws describing the movement of bodies on the

earth. Formerly it had been thought that some bodies were by nature heavier than others

and that heavier bodies fell to the ground faster than light ones. Galileo in 1591, according

to the traditional story, dropped a 10-pound and a 1-pound weight simultaneously from

Popperfoto/Getty Images

Galileo’s scientifi c research, which included the use of a telescope and led to a clash with church authorities, gave him an enduring stature in European intellectual history. This later image of Galileo portrays him as the idealized early modern “man of science,” working alone to dis- cover and describe new knowledge. (Popperfoto/Getty Images)

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245

the top of the Leaning Tower of Pisa. The truth of this story has been questioned, but in

any case Galileo showed that despite all previous speculation on the subject two bodies of

different weights, when allowance was made for differences in air resistance due to differ-

ences of size or shape, struck the ground at the same time. His further work in dynamics,

or the science of motion of bodies, took many years to accomplish. He had to devise more

refi ned means for measuring small intervals of time, fi nd means of estimating the air resis-

tance, friction, and other impediments that always occur in nature, and conceive of pure or

absolute motion, and of force and velocity, in abstract mathematical terms. He made use of

a new conception of inertia, in which only change in motion, not the origination of motion, had to be explained. This dispensed with the need of an Unmoved Mover felt in the older

philosophy; and yet Galileo could still not answer certain questions about the motion of

objects—questions that would soon be examined again by Isaac Newton.

The Achievement of Newton: The Promise of Science

Historians of science now tend to stress the collective and cultural components of scien-

tifi c advances rather than “Great Man” accounts of the lone scientifi c genius, but it was

the supreme creative achievement of Isaac Newton (1642–1727) that brought Kepler and

Galileo together in a new explanation of universal motion. Connecting the breakthroughs

of his infl uential predecessors, Newton was able to show that Kepler’s

laws of planetary motion and Galileo’s laws of terrestrial motion were two

aspects of the same laws. Galileo’s discovery that moving bodies move

uniformly in a straight line unless defl ected by a defi nite force made it nec-

essary to explain why the planets, instead of fl ying off in straight lines, tend to fall toward

the sun, the result being their elliptical orbits—and why the moon, similarly, tends to fall

toward the earth. Newton seems early to have suspected that the explanation would be

related to Galileo’s laws of falling bodies and that the pull of the earth upon objects on

earth might resemble a pull characterizing all bodies in the solar system. Great technical

diffi culties stood in the way, but fi nally, after inventing calculus, and using a new measure-

ment of the size of the earth made by a Frenchman and experiments with circular motion

made by the Dutch Huyghens on the pendulum, Newton was able to bring his calculations

to fruition. He soon published, in Latin, his Mathematical Principles of Natural Philoso- phy (1687), a book that would bring the “law of universal gravitation” into both the science and the wider intellectual debates of early modern Europe.

This stupendous book showed that all motion that could be timed and measured,

whether on the earth or in the solar system, could be described by the same mathematical

formulas. All matter moved as if every particle attracted every other particle with a force

proportionate to the product of the two masses and inversely proportionate to the square

of the distance between them. This “force” was universal gravitation. What it was New-

ton did not pretend to explain. For 200 years the law stood unshaken, always verifi ed by

every new relevant discovery. Only in the past century were its limitations found; it does

not hold good in the infi nitesimal world of subatomic structure or in the macrocosm of the

whole physical universe as now conceived.

It was in Newton’s time that the pursuit of natural knowledge became institutionalized,

and Newton himself fi rst presented his theories at London’s Royal Society for Improving

Natural Knowledge. Such institutions, possessing equipment and funds, were engaged in

scientifi c study, most notably at the Royal Society of London, founded in 1662, and the

Royal Academy of Sciences in France, founded in 1666. Both originated when earlier and

Universal gravitation

28. The Road to Newton: The Law of Universal Gravitation

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Chapter 6 The Scientifi c View of the World246

Historical Interpretations and Debates

Continuity and Discontinuity in the Scientifi c Revolution

Historians have waged spirited debates about the ways in which early modern scientists both reaffi rmed traditional religious beliefs and launched a “modern” method for understanding the natural world. Such discussions therefore focus on broad questions about the nature of historical continuity and change and about the relation between deep structures of belief and revolutions in thought. A contrasting emphasis on continuity and change thus becomes one of the themes in the interpretations of B. J. T. Dobbs and Richard Westfall as they analyze the signifi cance of Isaac Newton and the Scientifi c Revolution.

Betty Jo Teeter Dobbs, “Newton as Final Cause and First Mover” (2000) I intend to undermine one of our most

hallowed explanatory frameworks, that of

the Scientifi c Revolution. . . .

No matter what one chooses to

emphasize from the sixteenth and seventeenth

centuries, . . . one must, it seems, bring the

action to a dramatic climax in the work of

Isaac Newton. The narrative has assumed

all the characteristics of an inevitable

progression; we have the sense that Newton

must appear on the scene to pull the disparate

strands of development into a

grand synthesis. . . .

We choose for praise the thinkers that

seem to us to have contributed to modernity,

but we unconsciously assume that their

thought patterns are fundamentally just like

ours. Then we look at them . . . and discover

. . . that our intellectual ancestors are not

like us at all. . . . They have metaphysical

and religious commitments that they should

have known were unnecessary for a study

of nature; . . . they take seriously such

misbegotten ideas as astrology, alchemy,

[and] magic. . . .

[So] how could Newton . . . have

pursued alchemy as he did . . . ? What

Newton hoped to gain from alchemy was

a precise knowledge of the Deity. . . . If

he, Newton, could but demonstrate the

laws of divine activity in nature . . . then he

could demonstrate in an irrefutable fashion

the existence and providential care of the

Deity—a grand goal, though hardly a

modern one. . . .

Richard S. Westfall, “The Scientifi c Revolution Reasserted” (2000) Dobbs announces her intention to undermine

the concept of the Scientifi c Revolution.

In contrast, I intend to defend it. . . .

Before the Scientifi c Revolution,

theology was queen of all the sciences. As

a result of the Scientifi c Revolution, we have

redefi ned the word “science,” and today

other disciplines . . . strive to expand their

self-esteem by appropriating the word in its

new meaning to themselves. . . . The focus of

the change, the hinge on which it turned,

was the Scientifi c Revolution of the sixteenth

and seventeenth centuries. . . . I am convinced

that there has been no more fundamental

change in the history of European

Civilization. . . .

In its most general terms, the Scientifi c

Revolution was the replacement of Aristotelian

natural philosophy, which . . . had completely

dominated thought about nature in

western Europe during the previous four

centuries. . . .

For those who accepted the new

astronomy and the new mechanics,

Aristotelian natural philosophy had

become untenable. If the transformation of

scientifi c thought were to proceed, a new

natural philosophy had become a necessity.

What fi lled this need came to be called the

mechanical philosophy. . . .

With Newton the new science and

the new philosophy of nature found their

defi nitive form in which they shaped the

scientifi c tradition in the West for the

coming two centuries. The very nature of the

new enterprise that the Scientifi c Revolution

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247

Sources: Betty Jo Teeter Dobbs, “Newton as Final Cause and First Mover,” in Rethinking the Scientifi c Revolu- tion, edited by Margaret J. Osler (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2000), pp. 25, 29, 34, 36, 38–39; Richard S. Westfall, “The Scientifi c Revolution Reasserted,” in ibid. , pp. 41, 43, 45, 47–48.

Betty Jo Teeter Dobbs . . . (contd . . .) I would like to suggest that [we

evaluate] . . . Newton in a different way: not

as one of history’s all-time winners, not as

the First Mover of modern science, not as the

Final Cause of the Scientifi c Revolution, but as one of history’s great losers, a loser in a

titanic battle between the forces of religion

and the forces of irreligion.

Richard S. Westfall . . . (contd . . .) inaugurated insured that the Newtonian

system would be modifi ed. . . . As long as we

remember those modifi cations, it does appear

to me that the system, in a broad sense that

emphasizes its fundamental features in their

contrast with earlier ones, continues to reign,

and I see no prospect whatever that the reign

will terminate.

informal groups, usually gentlemen of the landed class, received offi cial charters from their

governments to pursue scientifi c interests. Scientifi c periodicals began to be published. Sci-

entifi c societies provided the medium for prompt interchange of ideas indispensable to the

growth of scientifi c knowledge. They held meetings, proposed projects for research, and

published articles not only on the natural sciences and mathematics, but also on paleogra-

phy, numismatics, chronology, legal history, and natural law. The work of the learned had

not yet evolved into modern academic specializations.

In all these activities the promise of science seemed fulfi lled. Even

in practical affairs conveniences followed, as anticipated by the Baconi-

ans. The tides could now be understood and predicted by the gravitational

interplay of earth, moon, and sun. Exact mathematical knowledge of the

celestial bodies, together with the invention of more accurate timepieces, was of great

help to navigation and mapmaking. Measures of latitude, or of north-south distances on

the spherical earth, had been known to the ancient Greeks. But longitude, or east-west

distances, could not be measured until the eighteenth century, when it became possible to

determine it by use of a chronometer and observation of heavenly bodies at a known time.

Merchant ships and naval squadrons could thus operate with more assurance about where

they were sailing. Places on land could be located and mapped more exactly. Eighteenth-

century Europeans were the fi rst human beings to have a fairly accurate idea of the shapes

and sizes of all the continents and oceans. Better local and regional maps of places in

Europe also became available.

Mathematical advance, including the development of calculus, which allowed an exact

treatment of curves and trajectories, reinforced by technical discoveries in the working of

metals, led to an increased use of artillery. Armies in 1750 used twice as many cannons per

soldier as in 1650. Naval ordnance also improved. These items made armed forces more

expensive to maintain, requiring governments to increase their taxes, and hence producing

constitutional crises. Improved fi rearms heightened the advantage of armies over insur-

rectionists or private fi ghting bands, thus strengthening the sovereignty of the state. They

also gave Europeans the military advantage over other peoples, in America, India, or else-

where, on which the world ascendancy of Europe was built in the eighteenth century. The

new scientifi c knowledge thus contributed to the expansion of Europe’s colonial empires

as well as the growing internal power of European governments.

Scientifi c

improvements

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Chapter 6 The Scientifi c View of the World248

The signifi cance of the steam engine may also be cited. Steam power would eventu-

ally almost literally move the world. In 1700 it was only in its earliest stages, but it was in

sight on the horizon. A Frenchman, Denis Papin, in 1681 invented a device in which steam

moved a piston, but it produced so little power that it was used only in cooking. British

scientists also turned their minds to the possible uses of steam. Robert Boyle, discoverer

of “Boyle’s Law” on the pressure of gases, studied the problem; scientists, mechanics, and

instrument makers collaborated. In 1702 Thomas Newcomen, a man without scientifi c

training who associated with scientists, produced the steam engine known thereafter as

Newcomen’s engine, from which, as will be seen, James Watt developed the steam engine

as we know it. Newcomen’s engine was primitive according to later ideas. It burned so

much fuel that it could be used only in coal mines. But it began to be used, and not long

after 1700 it was widely employed to pump water from the coal pits. It saved labor, cheap-

ened production, and opened hitherto unusable deposits to exploitation. It was the fi rst

application of steam to an economic purpose.

No distinction was yet felt between pure and applied science. The modern sense of the

word hardly existed, even in the early eighteenth century; what we call “science” was still

called natural philosophy or “useful knowledge.” Traveling public lecturers, in explaining

the laws of force and motion, showed their application in devices such as pulleys, scales,

levers, cogwheels, waterwheels, and pumps. Such lectures were attended, especially in

England, by a mixed audience of philosophers, experimenters, inventors, artisans, landed

gentlemen who wished to develop their estates, and small businessmen wishing to enlarge

their markets. The scientifi c movement thus opened the way to agricultural and industrial

improvements in Great Britain and other places where the new knowledge was brought

into economic activities.

The Scientifi c Revolution and the World of Thought

The infl uence of the Scientifi c Revolution extended far beyond the era’s new technologies,

and the changing scientifi c knowledge soon began to challenge or revise some of the oldest

religious and intellectual traditions of European culture. The new astronomy and physics

led to what has been called the greatest spiritual readjustment that human beings have

been required to make. The old heavens were exploded. Humans were no longer the center

of creation. The luminaries of the sky no longer shone to light their way or to give them

beauty. The sky itself was an illusion, its color a thing in the mind only, for anyone looking

upward was really looking only into the darkness of endless space. The old cosmos, com-

fortably enclosed and ranked in an ascending order of purity, gave way to a new cosmos

that seemed to consist of an infi nite emptiness through which particles of matter were dis-

tributed. Humans were the puny denizens of a material object moving through space along

with other very distant material objects of the same kind. About the physical universe

there was nothing especially Christian, nothing that the God portrayed in the Hebrew or

the Christian Bible would be likely to have made. The gap between religious and scientifi c

explanations for the natural world, always present yet always bridged in the Middle Ages,

now began to produce new public confl icts and new personal struggles to reconcile faith

and reason. Such tensions were felt with growing anguish by some seventeenth-century

writers. The Frenchman Blaise Pascal (1623–1662), for example, was an accomplished

scientist, a preeminent mathematician, and a deep but often troubled Christian believer.

He left a record of his religious beliefs, anxieties, and fears in his Pensées, or Thoughts, jottings and personal refl ections from which he hoped some day to write a great book on

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249

the Christian faith. “I am terrifi ed,” he said in one of these jottings, “by the eternal silence

of these infi nite spaces.”

But on the whole the cultural reaction was more optimistic. Man might be merely a

reed, as Pascal said, but Pascal added, he was “a thinking reed.” Human beings might be

no longer the physical center of the universe. But it was the human mind

that had penetrated the universal laws by which the planets and the earth

itself were put in motion. The Newtonian system, as it became popularized,

a process that took about 50 years, led to a great intellectual confi dence.

Never had there been so much optimism about the intellectual powers of

human beings. As the English poet Alexander Pope put it,

Nature and nature’s laws lay hid in night; God said, “Let Newton be,” and all was light.

The Newtonian

system

FOUNDING OF THE ACADEMY OF SCIENCES AND THE OBSERVATORY IN 1666 by Henri Testelin (1616–1695)

Testelin was an instructor at the Royal Academy of Painting and a strong defender of the aca- demic traditions in French art. He portrayed King Louis XIV visiting the new Royal Academy of Sciences in this painting, which expresses his respect for both the king and the new scientifi c knowledge. But Testelin’s life also exemplifi ed another side of late seventeenth-century French culture. He was a Protestant who eventually had to give up his academic position and move to the Netherlands to practice his religion. (Bridgeman-Giraudon/Art Resource, NY)

28. The Road to Newton: The Law of Universal Gravitation

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Chapter 6 The Scientifi c View of the World250

Or, according to another epigram on the subject, there was only one universe to discover,

and this universe had been discovered by Newton. Everything seemed possible to human

reason. Although Newton and most other scientists continued to believe in the existence of

God, the old feeling of dependency on divine powers and judgments lost much of its force

or became something to be discussed by clergymen in church on Sunday. Human beings

were not really little creatures, spiritual wayfarers in an alien natural world, yearning for

a reunion with God that would bring peace. They were creatures of great capacity in their

own right, living in a natural world that was understandable and manageable. These ideas

contributed greatly to the secularizing of European society, gradually pushing religion and

churches to the sidelines of European political power and many of the era’s new intellec-

tual debates.

The scientifi c discoveries also reinforced the old philosophy of natural law. This phi-

losophy, developed by the Greeks and renewed in the Middle Ages, held that the universe

is fundamentally orderly and that there is a natural rightness or justice, universally the

same for all people and knowable by reason. It was very important in political theory,

where it stood out against arbitrariness and the merely random claims of self-interested

power. The laws of nature as discovered by science were somewhat different, but they

taught the same lesson, namely, the orderliness and minute regularity of the world. It was

reassuring to feel that everywhere throughout an infi nite space every particle of matter

was quietly attracting every other particle by a force proportionate to the product of the

masses and inversely proportionate to the square of the distance. The physical universe laid

bare by science—orderly, rational, balanced, smoothly running, without strife or rivalry or

Isaac Newton became the famous public symbol of the new scientifi c knowledge and the new scientifi c researcher. This portrait by an anony- mous artist emphasizes the focused brilliance that made Newton an icon in the expand- ing institutions of scientifi c culture and in the wider devel- opment of eighteenth-century intellectual life. (Hulton Archive/Getty Images)

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25129. New Knowledge of Human Beings and Society

contention—became a model on which many thinkers, as time went on, hoped to refashion

human society. They hoped to make society also fulfi ll the rational rule of law, much like

scientists had shown how material objects adhere to the laws of nature.

In some ways it would be possible to exaggerate the impact of pure science. Scien-

tists themselves did not usually apply their scientifi c ideas to religion and society. Few

suffered the spiritual torment of Pascal. Both Descartes and Newton wrote carefully

argued tracts that asserted the truth of certain religious doctrines. Bacon and Harvey were

conservative politically, upholders of king against Parliament. The Englishman Joseph

Glanvill, in the 1660s, used Cartesian dualism to demonstrate the probable existence of

witches. Descartes, despite his systematic doubt, held that the customs of one’s country

should usually be accepted without question. Natural science, in the pure sense, was not

inherently revolutionary or even upsetting. If Europeans in the seventeenth century began

to waver in many old beliefs, it was not only because of the stimulus of pure science but

also because of an increasing knowledge and study of humanity itself.

29. NEW KNOWLEDGE OF HUMAN BEINGS AND SOCIETY

The discovery and exploration of the world overseas became a decisive new infl uence on

European views of human cultures and the nature of human beings. Europe was already

becoming part of the world as a whole and could henceforth understand itself only by

comparison with non-European regions. Great reciprocal infl uences were at work, and

the cultural exchanges fl owed in both directions. The infl uences of European expansion

on other parts of the world are easily seen: the Indian societies of America were modifi ed

or sometimes almost extinguished; the indigenous societies of Africa were dislocated and

many of their members were enslaved and transported; in the long run even the ancient

societies of Asia were to be disrupted or undermined. European ideas and institutions

altered the ways in which other peoples described their own cultures, and the exchanges

or confl icts with Europe reshaped identities wherever such interactions occurred. From the

beginning, however, the counterinfl uence of the rest of the world upon Europe was equally

great. It took the form of new medicines, new diseases, new foods, new and exotic manu-

factures brought to Europe, and the growth of material wealth in western European coun-

tries, but it also affected European thinking. New questions were raised about the diversity

of religious traditions, the history of languages, and the origins of human civilizations.

The growing involvement with other cultures undermined the old Europe and its ideas,

just as Europe was undermining the old cultures beyond the oceans. Vast new hori-

zons opened before Europeans in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. Europeans of

this period were the fi rst people to know the globe as a whole, to establish colonial out-

posts around most of the world, or to realize the variety of the human race and its multi-

farious manners and customs.

The Current of Skepticism

This encounter with the diversity of human cultures was very unsettling. The realization of

human differences had the effect, in Europe, of breaking what has been called the “cake of

custom.” A new sense of the relative nature of social institutions developed. It became

harder to believe in any absolute rightness of one’s own ways. Montaigne, already men-

tioned, expressed the relativist outlook clearly, and nowhere more clearly than in his

famous essay on cannibals. The cannibals, he said humorously, did in fact eat human fl esh;

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Chapter 6 The Scientifi c View of the World252

that was their custom, and they have their customs as Europeans also have theirs; they

would think some European ways odd or inhuman; peoples differ, and who are we to

judge? The cannibals cooked human bodies after the people were dead, but Europeans

burned human beings when they were still alive. Travelers’ books spread the same mes-

sage increasingly through the seventeenth century. As one of them observed

(whether or not rightly), in Turkey it was the custom to shave the hair and

wear the beard, in Europe to shave the beard and wear the hair; what differ-

ence does it really make?

That the ways of non-Europeans might be good ways was emphasized by Jesuit mis-

sionaries. Writing from the depths of the Mississippi Valley or from China, the Jesuit

fathers often dwelt on the natural goodness and mental alertness of native peoples they

encountered, perhaps hoping in this way to gain support in Europe for their missionary

labors. Meanwhile, people coming from the American wilderness or from Asia sometimes

appeared in Europe itself. In 1684 a delegation of aristocratic Siamese arrived in Paris,

followed by another in 1686. The Parisians went through a fad for Siam (now Thailand);

they recounted how the king of Siam, when asked by a missionary to turn Christian,

replied that divine Providence, had it wished a single religion to prevail in the world, could

easily have so arranged it. The philosophical Siamese seemed civilized and wise; they

allowed Christians to preach in their own country, whereas it was well known what would

happen to a Siamese missionary who undertook to preach in Paris. China also was seen at

this time as a civilized center of learning, tolerance, and wise ethical traditions. By 1700

there were even professors of Arabic, at Paris, Oxford, and Utrecht, who said that Islam

was a religion to be respected, as good for Muslims as Christianity was

for Christians.

Thus was created a strong current of skepticism, holding that all beliefs

are relative, varying with the time, place, and culture in which they develop.

The greatest spokesman for this kind of relativism or skepticism at the end of the century

was Pierre Bayle (1647–1706). Bayle was infl uenced by the scientifi c discoveries also;

not exactly that he understood them, for he was an almost purely literary scholar, but he

realized that many popular beliefs were without scientifi c foundation. Between 1680 and

1682 a number of comets were seen. The one of 1682 was studied by a friend of Newton’s,

Edmond Halley, the fi rst man to predict the return of a comet. He identifi ed the comet of

1682 with the one observed in 1302, 1456, 1531, and 1607, and predicted its reappear-

ance in 1757 (it appeared in 1759); it was seen again in 1910 and 1986 and is still called

Halley’s Comet. In the 1680s people were talking excitedly about the signifi cance of comets.

Some said that comets emitted poisonous exhalations; others, that they were supernatural

omens of future events.

Bayle, in his Thoughts on the Comet, argued that there was no basis for any such beliefs except human credulity. In 1697 he published his Historical and Critical Diction- ary, a tremendous repository of miscellaneous lore, conveying the message that what is called truth is often mere opinion, that most people are amazingly gullible, that many

things fi rmly believed are really ridiculous, and that it is very foolish to hold too strongly

to one’s own views. Bayle’s Dictionary remained a reservoir on which skeptical writers continued to draw for generations. Bayle himself, having no fi rm basis in his own mind

for settled judgment, mixed skepticism with an impulse to faith. Born a Protestant, he was

converted to Roman Catholicism, then returned to his Calvinist background. In any case

his views made for toleration in religion. For Bayle, as for Montaigne, no opinion could

justify burning your neighbor at the stake.

Travelers’ tales

Skepticism

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253

The New Sense of Evidence

But in the study of humankind, as in the study of physical nature, Europeans of the sev-

enteenth century were not generally content with skepticism. They usually sought to go

beyond a doubting mood, important and salutary as such an attitude was. In the sub-

jects collectively called the humanities, as in pure science, they were looking for a more

advanced understanding of human behavior. They wanted new means of telling the true

from the false, a new method for arriving at some degree of certainty of conviction. And

here, too, a kind of scientifi c view of the world arose, if that term is understood in a general

sense. The new human sciences took the form of a new interest in observable evidence.

Evidence is that which allows one to believe a thing to be true, or at least truer than some-

thing else for which the evidence is weaker. And if to believe without evidence is the sign

of nonscientifi c or irrational thinking, to require evidence before believing is in a way to be

scientifi c, or at least to trust and use the power of human intelligence.

The arrival of ambassadors from Siam at Versailles in 1684 made a vivid impression on a French generation that was fascinated by reports on distant lands and peoples. Although the bowing ambassadors show the requisite respect for the Sun King, their presence in France contributed to the growing speculation on cultural differences and the relativism of cultural customs. (Scala/Art Resource, NY)

29. New Knowledge of Human Beings and Society

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Chapter 6 The Scientifi c View of the World254

The new belief in the need for evidence revealed itself in many ways. One of the

clearest was in the law. The English law of evidence, for example, began to

take on its modern form at the close of the seventeenth century. It was long

believed that less evidence should be necessary in arriving at a verdict of

guilty in trials for the most atrocious crimes; this was thought necessary to

protect society from the more hideous offenses. From the end of the seven-

teenth century, in English law, the judge lost his power of discretion in deciding what

should constitute evidence, and the same rules of evidence were applied in all forms of

accusation, the essential legal question becoming always the same—did such-and-such a

fact (however outrageous) occur or did it not? After 1650 mere hearsay evidence, long

vaguely distrusted, was ruled defi nitely out of court. After 1696 even persons charged with

felony were allowed legal counsel.

The new emphasis on empirical evidence was probably the main force

in putting an end to the delusionary charges of witchcraft. What made witch-

craft so credible and so fearsome was that many persons confessed them-

selves to be witches, admitting to supernatural powers and to evil designs

upon their neighbors. Many or most such confessions were extracted under torture. Reform-

ers urged that confessions obtained under torture were not evidence, that people would say

anything to escape unbearable pain, so that no such confessions offered the slightest ground

for believing in witches. As for the voluntary confessions, and even the boastings of some

people of their diabolical powers, it was noted that such statements often came from persons

who would today be called hysterical or psychotic. Witches came to be regarded as self-

deluded. Their ideas of themselves were no longer accepted as reliable or objective evidence.

But it must be added that, except in England, the use of legal torture lasted through most of

the eighteenth century in criminal cases in which the judge believed the accused to be guilty.

History and Historical Scholarship

The systematic study of past human societies, which would come to be called the his-

torical sciences, also developed rapidly at this time. History, like the law, depends on the

discovery and use of evidence. The historian and the judge must answer the same kind of

question—did such-and-such a fact really occur? All knowledge of history, insofar as it

disengages itself from legend, propaganda, or wishful thinking, rests ultimately on pieces

of evidence, written records, and other material objects created in the past and surviving in

some form or other in the present. On this mass of material the vast picture of the past is

built, and without it people would be ignorant of their own antecedents or would have only

folktales and unconfi rmed oral traditions. Oral history often shapes personal and collec-

tive memories, and it provides important information; but judges and historians know that

people remember past events with very different facts and perspectives.

There was thus much skepticism about history in the seventeenth century. Some said

that history was not a form of true knowledge because it was not mathematical. Others said

that it was useless because Adam, the perfect man, neither had nor needed any history.

Many felt that what passed for history was only a mass of fables. History was distrusted

also because historians were often pretentious, claiming to be high-fl ying men of letters,

writing for rhetorical or inspirational appeal or for argumentative reasons, disdaining the

hard labor of empirical study. History was losing the confi dence of thinking people who

came to view science as the model for reliable knowledge. How was it possible, they

asked, to feel even a modicum of certainty about alleged events that had happened long

before any living person had been born?

English law of

evidence

Evidence and

witchcraft

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255

This doubting attitude itself arose from a stricter sense of evidence, or from a realiza-

tion that there was really no proof for much of what was said about the past. But scholars

set to work to assemble what evidence they could fi nd. They hoped to create a new history,

one that should contain only reliable statements. Europe was littered with old papers and

parchments. Abbeys, manor houses, and royal archives were full of written documents,

many of them of unknown age or unknown origin, often written in a handwriting that

people could no longer read. Learned and laborious enthusiasts set to work to explore this

accumulation. They added so much to the efforts of their predecessors as

virtually to create modern critical scholarship and erudition. The French

Benedictine monk Jean Mabillon, in 1681, in his book On Diplomatics (referring to ancient charters and “diplomas”) established the science of

paleography, which deals with the deciphering, reading, dating, and authentication of man-

uscripts. The Frenchman DuCange in 1678 published a dictionary of medieval Latin that is

New historical

scholarship

THE GROWTH OF GEOGRAPHICAL KNOWLEDGE The four maps show the best scientifi c knowledge at their respective dates. Behaim has no inkling of the existence of America and has fi lled in the hemisphere opposite to Europe with a mass of islands, representing what he has heard of the East Indies and Japan. He knows pretty well the limits of Africa. Schöner in 1523 fi lls in America and even distinguishes two American continents. He knows of the Gulf of Mexico but fails to realize the narrowness of the Isthmus of Panama. He knows of the Straits of Magellan (but not Cape Horn) and hopefully fi lls in a corresponding Northwest Passage in the north. His conception of the Indian Ocean is quite accurate. To Homan, two centuries later, the size and shapes of oceans and continents are well known, but he believes New Guinea is joined to Australia and is frankly ignorant of the northwest coast of North America, representing it by a straight line. The Great Lakes and the interior of North America have become known to Europe. D’Anville in 1761 has no island of Tasmania, does not understand that Alaska is a peninsula, and believes the American polar regions to be impassable by sea. Otherwise his map is indistinguishable from one on the same scale today—though the cultural interpretations or meanings of geographical spaces have con- tinued to evolve.

BEHAIM 1492 SCHÖNER 1523

HOMAN 1716 D'ANVILLE 1761

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Chapter 6 The Scientifi c View of the World256

still used. Other historians spent whole lifetimes exploring archives, collecting, editing, or

publishing masses of documents, comparing manuscript copies of the same text and trying

to discover what the author had really written, rejecting some texts as fabrications or forg-

eries, pronouncing others to be genuine pieces of historical evidence. Others made them-

selves experts in ancient coins, many of which were far more ancient than the oldest

manuscripts; they founded the science of numismatics. Still others, or indeed the same

persons, turned to a critical examination of the inscriptions on old buildings and ruins,

looking for the earliest possible information about specifi c people or events.

Another important but little-known historical “science,” namely, chronology, was

also pursued with new attention to precise evidence and dates. Chronology deals with

the age of the world and with fi nding a common denominator between the dating sys-

tems of various peoples. Probably it is not natural for the human mind to think in terms

of dates at all. For nonhistorically minded people, or for people who are little concerned

with verifi able evidence, it is enough to know that some things happened “long ago.” In

the seventeenth century the new interest in numbers, evident in physical science, turned

also to the human past. Archbishop James Ussher, an Anglican prelate of Ireland, after

much study of the Bible, announced the date of 4004 b.c.e. as the year in which the world

was created. His chronological system was later printed in the margins of the Authorized

The early modern interest in the preservation and study of historical materials led to a systematic organization of the libraries and sources that careful scholarship would require. This seventeenth- century engraving of a library in Leiden shows the subjects that scholars studied and the tables at which they stood to read the books. Although women were not present in this scholarly meeting place, the engraving shows that dogs apparently had free access to the library’s main reading room. (Corbis)

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257

Version of the English Bible and some fundamentalists still adhere to it as if it were part

of the Bible itself. But Ussher’s system was not accepted by scholars even in his own time.

New geographical knowledge was revealing China and its dynasties to Europe; historical

knowledge was beginning to discover ancient Egypt. The Chinese and Egyptian records

claimed a greater antiquity for their countries than the Old Testament seemed to allow

for the human race. There was much erudite conjecture; one scholar about 1700 counted

70 estimates of the age of the world, ranging as high as 170,000 years, a fi gure that then

seemed fantastic and appalling.

The diffi culty was not only in the language of the Old Testament. It was in fi nding the

correspondence between the chronological systems of different peoples. A Chinese system

of dating by dynasties might be coherent within itself, but how could it be equated with the

European system of dating from the birth of Christ, a date as little known to the Chinese as

the date of Wu Wang was to Europeans? Even European records presented the same diffi -

culty; the Romans counted by consulships, or from the supposed year of the founding of

Rome; many medieval documents told only the year of an obscure ruler’s reign. Only

infi nite patience, interminable research, and endless calculation could reduce such a jum-

ble to the simple system of modern textbooks. This is of more importance than may be at

fi rst recognized. A common system of dating is a great aid to thinking of human history as

an interconnected whole. An overall conception of the human race is made easier by the

dating of all events according to what Europeans called the Christian era. This itself, it

may be pointed out, is an arbitrary and conventional scale, because Christ is

now thought to have been born not in 1 c.e., but in 4 b.c.e.

Common dating was increasingly important for practical affairs as well

as for historical knowledge. Europe was disunited even on the Christian

calendar. Protestant and some Orthodox countries followed the old or Julian

calendar; Catholic countries, the corrected or Gregorian calendar issued in the sixteenth

century under authority of Pope Gregory XIII. The two calendars varied in the seventeenth

century by 10 days. Only gradually was the Gregorian calendar accepted, by England in

1752, by Russia in 1918. Most other peoples today, in China, India, the Arabic world, and

elsewhere, use or recognize the Gregorian calendar as a shared calendar for modern global

life. Without a uniform way of specifying days and years it would be diffi cult to trans-

act international affairs, hold international conferences, make plans, or pay and receive

money; a global system for defi ning time and dates thus became essential for global eco-

nomic exchanges and communications. This common dating, easily taken for granted, was

a consequence of the expanding global infl uence of Europe in modern times; and it became

both a symbolic and a practical expression of the exchanges between different cultures in

the modern world.

The Questioning of Traditional Beliefs

The historical sciences provided a foundation on which a knowledge of human activities

in the past could be built, and the growing geographical knowledge provided a panorama

of human diversity in the present. This new knowledge shared with natural science the

view that many traditional ideas were erroneous but that much could now be known by a

more disciplined use of the human mind. The humanities and the sciences were alike in

demanding evidence for belief and in trusting the power of reason. In their impact on the

traditional certainties of European life, the studies of human cultures exerted possibly a

greater direct force than those of nature. Pascal, in his defense of the Christian faith, feared

the spirit of Montaigne, the mood of skepticism and denial, which he felt himself, more

than he feared the fi ndings of mathematical and physical science. And the movement of

A common system of

dating

29. New Knowledge of Human Beings and Society

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Chapter 6 The Scientifi c View of the World258

historical thought, with its insistence on textual criticism and verifi able evidence, threw

doubt on much of the Christian religion, or at least on the sacred history and miracles

related in the Bible, which was considered to be part and parcel of

religion itself.

In 1678 a French priest, Richard Simon, published a pioneering work

in Biblical criticism, his Critical History of the Old Testament. Although his book was condemned both by the church and by the government of

Louis XIV, Simon always felt himself to be an orthodox Christian; Catholic faith, he

insisted, depended more on church tradition than on the literal statements of the Bible. He

simply applied to the Old Testament the methods of textual criticism that others were

applying to secular documents. He concluded that the Old Testament, as known, rested on

medieval manuscripts, many of which were of unknown or doubtful origin, that monkish

copyists had introduced errors and corruptions, and that the books thought to have been

written by Moses could not have been written by him, because they contained obvious

contradictions and matter clearly inserted after his death. Others went further, questioning

not merely the evidence of the Biblical text, but the very possibility of some events that it

related. From the scientifi c idea of the absolute regularity of nature on the one hand, and

from a strong sense of human credulity on the other, they denied that miracles could have

ever occurred; and they looked upon oracles and prophecies among either the Greeks or

the Hebrews with a dubious eye.

The most profoundly disturbing of all thinkers of the time was Baruch

Spinoza (1632–1677), the lens grinder of Amsterdam, a Jew whose ances-

tral family had emigrated from Portugal to escape the repression of Jewish

communities in Iberia. Spinoza became an independent-minded, skeptical

philosopher who was excommunicated by his own synagogue and who refused a profes-

sorship at the University of Heidelberg, craving only the quiet to think in peace. He drew

on both the scientifi c and humanistic thought of his day to develop a philosophy holding

that God had no existence apart from the world, that everything was itself an aspect of

Biblical scholarship

and criticism

Baruch Spinoza

CHRONOLOGY OF NOTABLE EVENTS, 1543–1697

1543 Publication of Copernicus’s On the Revolution of the Heavenly Orbs and Vesalius’s The Structure of the Human Body

1609 Galileo builds a telescope

1620–1627 Francis Bacon argues for empirical method to advance knowledge

1637 René Descartes publishes Discourse on Method

1651 Thomas Hobbes publishes Leviathan

1662 Royal Society for Improving Natural Knowledge is chartered in London

1666 Royal Academy of Sciences is founded in Paris

1687 Isaac Newton publishes Mathematical Principles of Natural Philosophy

1690 John Locke publishes Essay Concerning Human Understanding and Two Treatises of Government

1697 Pierre Bayle publishes Historical Critical Dictionary

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259

God—a philosophy technically called pantheism but considered by many to be really

atheistic. Spinoza therefore rejected Cartesian dualism, but he also denied the inspira-

tion of the Bible, disbelieved in miracles and the supernatural, rejected all revelation and

revealed religion, Jewish or Christian, and held that few if any governments of the day

were really just. He taught a pure, stern, and intellectual ethical code, and one that had

few consolations for the average person. His name became a byword for impiety and hor-

rendous unbelief. People were literally afraid to read his works, even when they could

fi nd them, which was not often because of the censorship. His infl uence spread slowly,

through the mediation of other writers, contributing to the later development of rationalist

philosophy.

More widely read, less abstruse, were the writings of the Englishman John Locke

(1632–1704), who summarized many of the intellectual trends of his lifetime and exerted

a strong infl uence for the following hundred years. He combined practical experience and

theoretical interests in a philosophy that dwelled on the merits of common sense. Educated

in medicine, he kept in touch with the sciences and was acquainted with Newton. He was

associated with the great Whig noblemen who were the main authors of the English revo-

lution in 1688. For political reasons he spent several years in the 1680s in the Netherlands,

where he became familiar with new philosophical work on the Continent. He wrote on

many subjects—fi nance, economics, education, religious policy, political theory, general

philosophy—always with an engaging directness and the sober air of a sensible man of

the world. In his Letter on Toleration (1689) he advocated an established church but with toleration of all except Roman Catholics and atheists; these he held to be dangerous to

society: the former because of a foreign allegiance; the latter because they lacked a basis

of moral responsibility. In his Reasonableness of Christianity he argued that Christian- ity, rightly considered, is after all a reasonable form of religion; this softened the friction

between religion and natural knowledge but tended to shut out the supernatural and merge

religious feeling into an unruffl ed common sense.

Locke’s deepest book was his Essay Concerning the Human Understanding (1690). Here he faced the great problem of the day, the problem of knowledge and skepticism; he

asked if it was possible to know anything with certainty, and how certain knowledge was

arrived at. His answer was that true or certain knowledge is derived from experience—

from perceptions by the sense organs and refl ection of the mind on these perceptions.

Locke at the end of the century thus echoes Bacon at the beginning; they became the two

great pillars of empirical philosophy, insisting on experience and observation as the source

of truth. Locke denied Descartes’s doctrine of innate ideas, or inevitable disposition of the

human mind to think in certain ways. He held that the mind at birth is a blank tablet or

tabula rasa and that the social environment shapes what people think or believe. Locke’s environmentalist philosophy became fundamental to liberal and reforming thought in later

years. It seemed that false ideas or superstitions were the result of bad environment and

bad education. It seemed that the evil in human actions was due to bad social institutions

and that an improvement in human society would improve human behavior. This philoso-

phy, whether or not wholly true in the fi nal analysis, was largely true with respect to many

practical conditions. A better education, for example, seemed to offer better opportunities

for personal advancement and social well-being. Locke’s philosophy thus gave confi dence

in the possibility of social progress and turned attention to a sphere in which planned and

constructive action was possible, namely, the sphere of government, public policy, and

legislation. Here we touch on political theory, to which Locke contributed Two Treatises of Government (these works are discussed later in this chapter).

29. New Knowledge of Human Beings and Society

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Chapter 6 The Scientifi c View of the World260

30. POLITICAL THEORY: THE SCHOOL OF NATURAL LAW

Political theory can never be strictly scientifi c. Science deals with what currently exists or

has existed. It does not tell what ought to exist. To describe what society and government

ought to be like, in view of human nature and the capacity to be miserable or contented, is

a main purpose of political theory. Political theory is in a sense more practical than sci-

ence. It is the scientists and scholars who are most content to observe facts as they are; and

even when they seek to improve material conditions, they do not seek (or expect) to change

the basic structures of the natural world. Practical people, however, and those scientists

and scholars who have practical interests, must always ask themselves what ought to be

done, what institutional structures ought to be changed, what policies ought to be adopted,

what measures ought to be taken, what state of affairs ought to be maintained or brought

about. Conservatives and radicals, traditionalists and innovators, are alike in this respect. It

is impossible in human affairs to escape the word “ought,” or to stop thinking about pos-

sible changes in social and political systems.

But political theory was affected by the scientifi c view. The Renaissance

Italian, Niccolò Machiavelli (1469–1527), whom we have discussed earlier,

had opened the way in this direction. Machiavelli too had his “ought”; he

preferred a republican form of government in which citizens felt a patriotic

attachment to their state. But in his book The Prince he disregarded the question of the best form of government, a favorite question of Christian and scholastic philosophers of

the Middle Ages. He separated the study of politics from theology and moral philosophy.

He undertook to describe how governments and rulers actually behaved. He observed that

successful rulers behaved as if holding or increasing power were their only object, that they

regarded all else as means to this end. Princes, said Machiavelli, kept their promises or

Niccolò Machiavelli

The Dutch, Jewish philosopher Baruch Spinoza (1632–1677), portrayed here in a painting by Samuel Van Hoogstraten, developed a materialist or pantheistic philosophy that provoked strong opposi- tion from many of his contemporaries; but Spinoza became an infl uential thinker for later writers who expressed skepticism about traditional religious beliefs. (Bettmann/Corbis)

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26130. Political Theory: The School of Natural Law

broke them, told the truth or distorted it, sought popularity or ignored it, advanced public

welfare or disrupted it, conciliated their neighbors or destroyed them—depending merely

on which course of action seemed the best means of advancing their political interests. All

this was bad, said Machiavelli; but that was not the question, for the question was to fi nd

out what rulers really did. Drawing his conclusions from the observable evidence of history,

Machiavelli chose to be nonmoral in order to produce what might be called a “scientifi c”

account of political power. To most readers he seemed to be simply immoral. Nor was it

possible to draw the line between The Prince as a scientifi c description of fact and The Prince as a book of maxims of conduct. In telling how successful rulers obtained their successes, Machiavelli also suggested how rulers ought to proceed. And though govern- ments did in fact continue to behave for the most part as Machiavelli said, most people

refused to admit that they ought to.

Natural Right and Natural Law

Political theory in the seventeenth century did not generally embrace the cynicism attrib-

uted to Machiavelli. Nor did it fall into the skepticism of those who said that the customs

of one’s country should be passively accepted or that one form of government was about

as good as another. It directly faced the question, What is right? The seventeenth century

was the classic age of the philosophy of natural right or of natural law.

The idea of natural law underlies a good deal of modern democratic

development, and its decline over the last century has been closely con-

nected with many of the troubles of recent times. It is not easy to say in

what the philosophy of natural law essentially consisted. It held that there

is, somehow, in the structure of the world, a law that distinguishes right from wrong. It

held that right is “natural,” not a mere human invention or cultural construction. This right

is not determined, for any country, by its heritage, tradition, or customs, nor yet by its

actual laws (called “positive” laws) of the kind that are enforced in the law courts. All

these may be unfair or unjust. We detect unfairness or injustice in them by comparing

them with natural law as we understand it; thus we have a basis for saying that cannibalism

is bad or that a law requiring forced labor from orphan children is unjust. Nor is natural

law, or the enduring rightness of something, determined by the authority of any person or

people. No king can make right that which is wrong. No people, by its will as a people,

can make just that which is unjust. Right and law, in the ultimate sense, exist outside and

above all peoples. They are universal, the same for all. No one can make them up to suit

themselves. A good king or a just people is a king or people whose actions correspond to

the objective standard. But how, if we cannot trust our own positive laws or customs, or

our leaders, or even our collective selves, can we know what is naturally right? How do we

discover natural law?

The answer, in the natural law philosophy, is that we discover it by reason. Philosophers

of natural law said that human beings are rational animals. And they assumed that all human

beings have, at least potentially and when better enlightened, the same powers of reason and

understanding—Germans or English, Asians, Africans or Europeans. This view favored a

cosmopolitan outlook and made international agreement and general world progress seem

realizable goals. As time went on, the premises of this philosophy came to be questioned. By

the twentieth century it was widely thought that the human mind was not especially rational

but was motivated by unconscious drives or urges or instincts and that human cultural dif-

ferences were so fundamental that people of different nationalities or classes could never

expect to see things in the same way. Challenged by such theories of human irrationality and

“Natural law” and

“natural right”

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Chapter 6 The Scientifi c View of the World262

cultural difference (which could be promoted with much ancient and modern evidence), the

older philosophy of a universal natural law lost its hold on many minds.

In the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, however, it was generally accepted.

Some, carrying over the philosophy of the Middle Ages, thought of natural law as an

aspect of the law of God. Others, more secular in spirit, held that the natural law stood of

itself. These included even some churchmen; a group of theologians, mainly Jesuits, were

condemned by the pope in 1690 for holding that universal right and wrong might exist by

reason only, whether God existed or not. The idea of natural law and the faith in human

reason went side by side, and both were fundamental in the thought of the time. They were

to be found everywhere in Europe, in their religious or their secular form.

On the basis of natural law some thinkers tried to create an international law or “law

of nations,” to bring order into the maze of sovereign territorial states, great and small, that

was developing in Europe. Hugo Grotius, in 1625, published the fi rst great

book devoted exclusively to this subject, his Law of War and Peace. Samuel Pufendorf followed with his Law of Nature and of Nations in 1672. Both held that sovereign states, though bound by no positive law or authority,

should work together for the common good, that there was a community of nations as of

individuals, and that in the absence of a higher international sovereignty they were all still

subordinate to natural reason and justice. Certain concrete doctrines, such as the freedom

of the seas or the immunity of ambassadors, were put forward. The principles of interna-

tional law were seen as an extension of natural law. The content came to include specifi c

agreements between governments, certain kinds of admiralty and maritime law, and the

terms of treaties such as the treaties of Westphalia, Utrecht, and others. Such laws and trea-

ties expressed transnational principles or agreements, even though the means for enforcing

such principles remained weak or nonexistent in the era’s endless political confl icts and

wars. They could nevertheless be viewed historically as the fi rst halting steps toward a

more legally coherent, international, and secular management of political affairs among the

emerging, modern European states.

Hobbes and Locke

In domestic affairs the philosophy of natural law, though it rather favored constitutional-

ism, was used to justify both constitutional and absolutist governments. Right itself was

held to be in the nature of things, beyond human power to change. But forms of govern-

ment were held to be the means to an end. No philosopher at the time thought the state

could have an absolute value in itself. The state had to be “justifi ed,” made acceptable to

the moral consciousness or to reason. There were, indeed, important competing philoso-

phies. On the side of absolutism was the doctrine of the divine right of kings. On the side

of constitutionalism were arguments based on heritage or custom, emphasizing the char-

ters or compacts of former times and the historic powers of towns, parliaments, and estates.

But neither the supernatural argument of the divine right of kings nor the historical argu-

ment pointing back to liberties of the Middle Ages was entirely satisfactory in the scien-

tifi c atmosphere of the seventeenth century. Neither argument could be completely justifi ed

within the frameworks of reason or morality that now shaped the ideas of the most acute

European thinkers. Both the absolutist and the constitutional views of government were

therefore reinforced in the seventeenth century by the concept of natural law; and two

English political theorists showed most clearly how both sides in this debate built their

opposing arguments on similar foundations of natural law. Absolutism was philosophi-

cally justifi ed by Thomas Hobbes; constitutionalism, by John Locke.

“Law of nations”

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263

Hobbes (1588–1679) followed the scientifi c and mathematical discov-

eries of his time with more than an amateur interest. In philosophy he held

to a materialistic and even atheistic system. In English politics he sided

with the king against Parliament; he disliked the disorder and violence of

the civil war of the 1640s and the unstable conditions of the English republic of the 1650s.

He concluded that humans have no capacity for self-government. His opinion of human

nature was low; he held that people in the state of nature, or as they could be imagined to

exist without government, were quarrelsome and turbulent, forever locked in a war of all

against all. In his famous phrase, life in the state of nature was “solitary, poor, nasty, brut-

ish and short.” Acting on their fear of each other and seeking to obtain order or enjoy the

advantages of law and right, people came to a kind of agreement or “contract” by which

they surrendered their freedom of action into the hands of a ruler. It was necessary for this

ruler to have unrestricted authority, because order could be maintained only by the exer-

cise of absolute government powers. It was intolerably dangerous, according to Hobbes,

for anyone to question the actions of government, for such questioning might reopen the

way to chaos. Government must therefore be a kind of Leviathan (the monster mentioned

in the Bible, Job 41); and Hobbes in fact used the word Leviathan for the title of his princi- pal book, published in 1651, two years after the execution of King Charles I.

By this book Hobbes became the leading secular exponent of absolutism and one of the

principal theorists of the unlimited sovereignty of the state. His infl uence on later thinkers

was very great. He accustomed political theorists to the use of purely natural arguments. He

quoted freely from the Bible, but the Bible had no infl uence on his thought. After Hobbes,

all advanced political theorists regarded government as a device created by human purpose.

It was no longer considered, except popularly and except by professional theologians, as

part of God’s divine dispensation to human history. Hobbes also affected later theorists by

his arguments for a sovereign authority, which obliged them to refute his idea of an unlim-

ited personal sovereign. But he was never a popular writer. In England the cause that he

favored lost infl uence in the course of the seventeenth-century revolutions. In those conti-

nental countries where royal absolutism prevailed his arguments were received with secret

gratifi cation, but his irreligion was too dangerous to make public, and the absolutist argu-

ment, on the popular level, remained that of the divine right of kings. In any case Hobbes’s

arguments were in some ways insuffi cient for real monarchs. Hobbes abhorred struggle and

violence. He believed that absolutism would produce civil peace, individual security, and a

rule of law. He also held that absolute power depended on, or had at least originated in, a

free and rational agreement by which people accepted it. An absolute monarchy that fl a-

grantly violated these conditions could with diffi culty be justifi ed even by the doctrines of

Hobbes. It is in these respects that Hobbes differs from totalitarian theorists of more recent

times. For Hobbes, in the fi nal analysis, absolute power was an expedient to promote indi-

vidual welfare. It was a means to advance or protect the realization of natural law.

John Locke (1632–1704), as has been seen, also stood in the main cur-

rent of scientifi c thought and discovery. But in his political philosophy he

carried over many ideas of the Middle Ages, as formulated in the thirteenth

century by St. Thomas Aquinas and kept alive in England by successive

thinkers of the Anglican church. Medieval philosophy had never favored an absolute power.

With Hobbes, Locke shared the idea that good government is an expedient of human pur-

pose, neither provided by divine Providence nor inherited by a national tradition. He held,

too, like Hobbes and the whole school of natural law, that government was based on a kind

of contract, or rational and conscious agreement upon which authority was based. In contrast

to Hobbes, he sided with Parliament against the king in the practical struggles of politics.

John Locke

Absolutism and

Thomas Hobbes

30. Political Theory: The School of Natural Law

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Chapter 6 The Scientifi c View of the World264

About 1680, in the course of these disputes, he wrote Two Treatises of Government, which, however, were not published until shortly after the parliamentary revolution of 1688–1689.

Locke took a more genial view of human nature than Hobbes. As he showed in his

other books, he believed that a moderate religion was a good thing and above all that

people could learn from experience and hence could be educated to an enlightened way of

life. These ideas favored a belief in self-government. Locke declared (in contradiction to

Hobbes) that people in the “state of nature” were reasonable and well disposed, willing to

get along with one another though handicapped by the absence of public authority. They

likewise had a moral sense, quite independently of government; and they also possessed

by nature certain individual rights, quite apart from the state. These rights were the rights

to life, liberty, and property.

Locke placed heavy emphasis on the right of property, by which he usually meant the

possession of land. His philosophy can in fact be regarded as an expression of the landed

classes of England, who challenged the power of kings by defending the political and social

rights of private property. Individuals in the state of nature are not altogether able, accord-

ing to Locke, to win general respect for their individual natural rights. They cannot by their

own efforts protect what is “proper” to them, that is, their property. They agree to set up

government to enforce observance of the rights of all. Government is thus created by a con-

tract, but the contract is not unconditional, as claimed by Hobbes. It imposes mutual obliga-

tions. The people must be reasonable; only rational beings can be politically free. Liberty is

not an anarchy of undisciplined will; it is the freedom to act without compulsion by another.

Only rational and responsible creatures can exercise true freedom; but adult human beings,

according to Locke, are or can be educated to be rational and responsible. They therefore

can and should be free. Locke never really explained how these political rights, obligations,

and freedoms might apply to women as well as to men, so there has been much modern

debate about Locke’s theoretical contributions to later campaigns for women’s rights. In

his own early modern context, however, Locke’s writings explicitly supported the political

rights and obligations of men who were claiming an active role in government affairs.

On government, also, as Locke described it, certain conditions and obligations are

imposed. If a government breaks the contract, if it threatens the natural rights that it is the

sole purpose of government to protect, if, for example, it takes away a man’s property with-

out his consent, then the governed have a right to reconsider what they have done in creating

the government and may even in the last extremity rebel against it. The right to resist gov-

ernment, Locke admits, is very dangerous, but it is less dangerous than its opposite, which

would lead to the loss of all liberty; and in any case Locke assumes that those who might

resist the government in such situations would still be reasonable and responsible people.

If Locke’s ideas seem familiar, especially to Americans, it is because of the wide popu-

larizing of his philosophy in the century after his death. Nowhere was his infl uence greater

than in the British colonies. The authors of the American Declaration of

Independence and of the Constitution of the United States knew the writ-

ings of Locke very thoroughly. Some phrases of the Declaration of Inde-

pendence echo his very language. In Great Britain also, and in France and

elsewhere, in the course of time, Locke’s infl uence was immense. But it should be noted

that his ideas did not always mean the same thing for all people or in all places. Locke

did not extend his ideas of human liberty to enslaved Africans, apparently because he

viewed slavery as a legitimate form of private property. Locke himself invested in the slave-

trading Royal African Company and endorsed the development of slavery in the American

colonies. The growing infl uence of Locke’s political theories may also have contributed

Locke’s infl uence

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265

indirectly to the emergence of new racist ideas in the eighteenth century. New justifi cations

for slavery became necessary when the political classes of England and America began

to believe that human beings possessed natural rights to life, liberty, and property. How

could slavery be reconciled with such beliefs? The answer appeared in new forms of rac-

ism, which justifi ed the enslavement of Africans by arguing that the African “race” lacked

certain rational human traits of the European “race” and that black people could be denied

fundamental human rights because they differed from other human beings.

In general, however, Locke’s ideas of natural rights and human liberty were later used

to challenge absolutist or repressive institutions, including also the slave trade and the legal

systems that supported slavery. The right to human liberty, including the liberty of enslaved

persons, would eventually be viewed as more universal, or more natural, than certain “prop-

erty rights” of slaveholders—though slavery would not be abolished in most European

colonies or postcolonial nations until the nineteenth century. Meanwhile, Locke’s theories

of contractual government gained international infl uence in the evolving debates about

monarchical power. What Locke did was to convert an episode in English history into an

event of universal political meaning. In England, in 1688, certain great lords, winning the

support of the established church, gentry, and merchants, deposed one king and brought in

another. On the new king they imposed certain obligations—specifi ed in the Bill of Rights

of 1689 and all dealing with legal or technical interpretations of the English constitution.

The Revolution of 1688 was a very English affair. England in 1688 was still little known to

the rest of Europe. The proceedings in England, in so far as they were known to most Euro-

peans, might seem no different from a rebellion of the magnates of Hungary. Locke, in

JOHN LOCKE by John Greenhill (English, 1642–1676)

Locke’s writings on govern- ment and natural rights sum- marized the arguments against royal power in England and also won adherents wherever political theorists challenged monarchical absolutism. (Snark/Art Resource, NY)

30. Political Theory: The School of Natural Law

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Chapter 6 The Scientifi c View of the World266

arguing that Parliament had been right to eject James II, put the whole affair on a level of

reason, natural right, and human nature. It thus came to have meaning for people who had

no connection with the specifi c problems of English political history.

At the same time, Locke made the English revolution a sign of progress

rather than reaction. The new and modern form of government in 1690 was

royal absolutism, with its professional bureaucracy and corps of paid offi -

cials. Almost everywhere there was resistance to the kings, led by landed

interests and harking back to earlier freedoms. Such resistance seemed to many Europeans

to be feudal and medieval. Locke made the resistance in England, namely, the Revolution

of 1688 against James II, into a modern and forward-looking movement. He checked the

prestige of absolutism. He gave new prestige to constitutional principles. He carried over,

in modifi ed form, many ideas from the scholastic philosophers of the Middle Ages, who

had generally maintained that kings had only a relative and restricted power and were

responsible to their peoples. To these ideas he added the force of the newer scientifi c view

of the world. He did not rest his case on supernatural or providential arguments. He did not

say that constitutional government was the will of God. He said that it rested on experience

and observation of human nature, on recognition of certain individual rights and especially

the right of property, and on the existence of a purely natural law of reason and justice.

He was an almost entirely secular thinker, and, as such, he developed ideas that could be

drawn into the political and social confl icts of most modern nations.

One must not claim too much for Locke, or for any writer. England was in fact, in

1688, more modern in many ways than other countries in Europe. The Glorious Revolu-

tion was in fact not exactly like uprisings of the landed and propertied classes elsewhere.

England in the following century did in fact create a form of parliamentary government

that was unique. But facts go together with the theories that give them an understandable

meaning. Events in England, as explained by Locke, and as seen in other countries and

even in England and its colonies through Locke’s eyes, launched into the mainstream of

modern history the superb tradition of constitutional government, which has been one of

the principal themes in the history of the modern world ever since.

By 1700, at the close of the “century of genius,” some beliefs that were to become

characteristic of modern times had clearly taken form, notably a faith in science, in human

reason, in natural human rights, and in progress. The new scientifi c knowledge was begin-

ning to transform the global economy, the culture of European elites, and the confl icts

within or among European empires. Meanwhile, the cultural institutions of modern sci-

ence were spreading across Europe, and new scientifi c theories in physics, astronomy, and

physiology were challenging both the theology and thought systems of earlier generations.

The following period, generally known as the Age of Enlightenment, was to be a time of

clarifying and popularizing ideas that the more creative seventeenth century had produced.

These ideas were eventually to revolutionize Europe, America, and the world. They were

also in subsequent years to be modifi ed, amended, challenged, and even denied. But they

are still very much alive today.

Locke on the English

revolution

For suggested further readings and useful Web sites, interactive exercises, glossary, chronologies,

and more, go to the Online Learning Center at www.mhhe.com/palmerhistory11e .

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267

C h a p t e r 7 THE GLOBAL

STRUGGLE FOR

WEALTH AND EMPIRE

In earlier   chapters we have seen how western Europe, and especially England and France, by

about the year 1700 came to occupy a position of

power and infl uence in Europe as a whole. We

have traced the political history of western Europe

through the War of the Spanish Succession, termi-

nated in 1713–1714 by the treaties of Utrecht and

Rastatt. Affairs of central Europe and Germany

have been described for the period up to 1740. In

that year a new kingdom of Prussia and a new or

renovated Austrian monarchy, each passing into the

hands of a new ruler, stood on the eve of a struggle

for ascendancy in central Europe. As for eastern

Europe, we have observed the Europeanizing and

expansion of the Russian Empire.

More important in the long run than these political events, and continuing throughout

the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, was the cumulative expansion of all forms of

knowledge, which we saw in the rapid development of seventeenth-century science and to

which we return in the next chapter. Equally important was the growing wealth of Europe,

or at least of the Atlantic region north of Spain. The new wealth, in the widest sense,

meaning conveniences of every kind, resulted partly from the new technical and scientifi c

knowledge, which in turn it helped to produce; and the two together, more wealth and

more knowledge, helped to form one of the most far-reaching ideas of modern times, the

idea of progress. This idea challenged the traditional deference to ancient authorities and

fostered critical inquiry, creative innovations, and remarkable optimism in most spheres

of social and intellectual life. “Progress” could include changes in the economy, in sci-

ence and intellectual life, in education, in political institutions, and in most other forms of

human activity, but in every context a belief in the progressive direction of human history

encouraged Europeans to assume that the future would be better than the past. Although

the world wars and environmental problems of more recent times would eventually

31. Elite and Popular Cultures

32. The Global Economy

of the Eighteenth Century

33. Western Europe after

the Peace of Utrecht,

1713–1740

34. The Great War

of the Mid–Eighteenth

Century: The Peace of

Paris, 1763

Chapter emblem: Detail from an Indian miniature (c. 1785), showing an Englishwoman and one of her servants

in India. (Werner Forman Archive/Art Resource, NY)

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Chapter 7 The Global Struggle for Wealth and Empire268

provoke widespread anxieties about the historical consequences of new technologies, a

belief in progress, even if somewhat chastened, remains a powerful cultural force in all

modern societies.

The new wealth of Europe was not like the age-old wealth of the great empires in

the East, said by Milton to “shower on her kings barbaric pearl and gold.” It consisted

of gold, to be sure, but even more of bank deposits and facilities for credit, of more and

better devices for mining coal, casting iron, and spinning thread, more productive agricul-

ture, better and more comfortable houses, a wider variety of diet on the table, more and

improved sailing ships, warehouses, and docks; more books, more newspapers, more med-

ical instruments, more scientifi c equipment; greater government revenues, larger armies,

and more numerous government employees. The new wealth also fl owed from the labor of

enslaved workers and the commodities they produced in the Americas, but in the wealthier

European countries, and because of the growing accumulation of capital, more people were

freed from the necessity of toiling for food, clothing, and shelter. Drawing on the profi ts

of an increasingly global economy, more Europeans were able to devote themselves to all

sorts of specialized callings in government, management, fi nance, war, teaching, writing,

inventing, exploring, and researching, and in producing the amenities rather than the bar-

est necessities of life. These new forms of mechanical production, social organization, and

specialized knowledge also began to spread to European colonies around the world, thus

contributing to the expanding systems of transoceanic trade and to the growing belief in

human progress.

31. ELITE AND POPULAR CULTURES

The accumulation of wealth and knowledge was not evenly distributed among the various

social classes. There had always been differences between rich and poor, with many gra-

dations between the extremes, but at the time we are now considering, as the seventeenth

century turned into the eighteenth, there came to be a more obvious distinction between

elite and popular cultures. The terms are hard to defi ne. The elite culture was not exactly

the culture of the rich and well-to-do, nor was the popular culture limited to the poor and

lower economic classes. The word “elite” suggests a minority within a given range of

interests; thus there are elites not only of wealth, but of social position and of power; elites

of fashion, of patronage and connoisseurship in the arts, and of artists themselves; elites

of education, of special training as in medicine and law, and of discovery and accomplish-

ment in technology and the sciences. In general, persons taking part in an elite culture

could share at will in the popular culture by attending public amusements or simply by

talking familiarly with their servants. But the relation was asymmetric. Those born in pop-

ular culture could not easily share in the intellectual or social culture of the elites, at least

not without transforming themselves, through education or marriage, which could occur

only in exceptional cases.

A main difference was simply one of language. At the popular level people generally

used a local form of speech, varying from one place to another, with a distinctive accent,

and with words that had become obsolete elsewhere or that might not be understood even

a few miles away. In the Middle Ages the use of Latin helped to overcome this linguistic

diversity, but Latin was becoming less common in even the most elite cultural groups by

the late seventeenth century. Since the invention of printing and the rise of national litera-

tures, and with the spreading infl uence of schools, of which we have seen that many were

founded between 1550 and 1650, there came to be standard forms of English, French,

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26931. Elite and Popular Cultures

Italian, and other languages that all educated persons could speak and read. Grammar and

spelling became regularized. Virtually all printing was in a national language when it was

not in Latin. Because only a minority were able to get the necessary educa-

tion, however, the mass of the people continued to speak as they did before.

Their way of talking was now considered a dialect, a peasant language, or

what was called patois in French or Volkssprache in German. And while it may be true, as some scientifi c philologists have long argued, that no form of speech is

inherently “better” than another, it is also true that facility in the national language was a

sign of elite culture until the spread of universal elementary schooling in the nineteenth

century. It gave access to at least certain segments of the elite culture, as it continues to do

today, and it enabled educated persons to participate in the elite institutions of government,

commerce, and the professions.

The elite culture was transmitted largely by way of books, but it could also be acquired

by word of mouth within favored families and social circles. The popular

culture, by contrast, was predominantly oral, although it was also expressed

in cheaply printed almanacs, chapbooks, woodcuts, and broadsides.

Because it was so largely oral, and left so few written records, popular

culture is often diffi cult for historians to reconstruct, but it made up the daily lives, inter-

ests, and activities of the great majority in all countries. It must always be remembered that

what we read as history, in this as in most other books, is mostly an account of the actions

of small minorities, either of power-wielders, decision-makers, and innovators whose pub-

lic actions affected whole peoples, or of writers and thinkers whose ideas appealed to a

limited audience. Persons who were illiterate or barely literate changed their ideas more

slowly than the more mobile and more informed members of the elite. Cultural changes

initiated by such elites spread slowly, generation after generation, to wider social classes, so

that what was characteristic of popular culture at a given moment, such as a belief in magic,

had often been common to all classes a century or two before. All people and social classes

make history and participate in the processes of historical change, but the new knowledge,

education, and wealth in early modern societies also created new social distinctions and

new hierarchies of cultural power.

The humanism of the Renaissance, being transmitted so largely through books and the

study of Greek and Latin, remained limited to persons who were educated in the elite

culture. The strength of the Protestant Reformation lay in combining the efforts of highly

educated leaders, such as Luther and Calvin, with the anger, distress, disillusionment, and

hopes of many very ordinary people. The new science and the ensuing eighteenth-century

Enlightenment emerged in the work of small numbers of researchers and writers, but their

ideas slowly reshaped the thinking of others. The process of diffusion might be slow and

uncertain. Astrology, for example, was in the Middle Ages a branch of scientifi c inquiry;

in the seventeenth century astrologers were still consulted by emperors and kings; then

both the clergy and secular thinkers denounced divination by the stars as a superstition,

and astrology was expelled from astronomy, but horoscopes still appear today in American

and European newspapers.

The differences of wealth, if not wholly decisive, were of great importance. Culture in

the broader or anthropological sense of the word includes material circumstances of food,

drink, and shelter. In some respects the lot of the poor in the seventeenth

century was worse than in the Middle Ages. Less meat was eaten in Europe,

because as population grew there was less land available for the raising of

livestock. With the growth of a market economy many peasants raised

National languages

Oral vs. print culture

Living standards

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Chapter 7 The Global Struggle for Wealth and Empire270

wheat, but ate bread made of rye, barley, or oats, or even looked for acorns and roots in

times of famine. The consumption of bread by working people in France in the eighteenth

century was about a pound per day per person, because little else except cabbages and

beans was eaten on ordinary days; after 1750 the use of white bread became more usual.

Meanwhile the rich, or the merely affl uent, developed more delicate menus prepared by

well-trained professional cooks, one of whom is said to have committed suicide when his

souffl é fell before it was served.

In the towns the poor lived in crowded, unsanitary buildings, and in the country they

lived in dark and shabby cabins where stoves only gradually replaced holes in the roof for

the escape of smoke. The poor had no glass in their windows, the middle

classes usually had a few glass windows, and the rich displayed their wealth,

in part, by installing glass windows and mirrors throughout both their urban

apartments and their country estates. In humble homes the dishes were

wooden bowls, slowly replaced by pewter, while china plates began to appear on the tables

of the more well-to-do. Table forks, with one for each diner, originating in Italy, were

brought to France in the sixteenth century by Catherine de Medici along with other items of

Italian culture, and soon spread among those able to afford them, though Louis XIV still

preferred to use his fi ngers. Silver bowls and pitchers were ancient but became more elabo-

rate and more often seen in upper-class circles. The poor had no furniture, or only a few

benches and a mat to sleep on; the middle classes had chairs and beds; the rich not only had

substantial furniture but were becoming more conscious of style. Among higher-income

families it became usual to have houses with specialized rooms, such as separate

bedrooms, and a dining room. New ideas about privacy, the meaning or autonomy of child-

hood, and the health of the human body began to infl uence eighteenth-century architecture,

so that well-to-do people wanted more private spaces for themselves and their children.

The prominent and the fashionable also fi tted out larger rooms for social receptions and

public entertainments, called salons in France, with walls of wood paneling, lighted by

chandeliers refl ected in mirrors, and provided with sofas and armchairs, which the inven-

tion of upholstery made more comfortable. The poor, after dark, huddled on chests or still

sat together on the fl oor by a single candle.

In the use of beverages the seventeenth century saw a different kind of progress, if that

is the right word. Coffee and tea, along with sugar and tobacco, all imported from overseas,

were exotic rarities in 1600, more widely enjoyed in 1700, and available to all but the very

destitute by the late eighteenth century. Coffee shops developed and taverns multiplied.

Cheap wines became more plentiful in southern Europe, as did beer in the

north. The distillation of alcohol had been developed in the Middle Ages,

when brandy, a distilled wine, was used as a medicine; by the seventeenth

century it was a familiar drink. Whisky and gin also came into use at about

this time. The taverns and coffee shops offered a place for neighborly gatherings for the mid-

dling and lower social classes; and writers began meeting in coffeehouses to discuss their

work, share gossip, or argue about public events. During this same era, drunkenness became

a more visible problem in European cities, especially among workers who could not drink in

domestic privacy and who were therefore often seen in the streets, as shown by Hogarth’s

pictures of “Gin Lane” in London about 1750. The migrations of displaced rural workers

and the poverty in large cities also contributed to an increase in out-of-wedlock births and

the abandonment of children. It was calculated that in Paris in 1780 there were 7,000 aban-

doned children for 30,000 births, but many of these infants were brought from the country to

be deposited in the foundling hospitals of the city, which were overwhelmed.

Housing conditions

Coffee and alcohol

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271

Despite the growing differences in wealth, housing, and education,

there was much that persons of all classes and cultures still shared. Most

important, in principle, was religion. The refi ned and the rude, the learned

and the untutored, heard the same sermons in church, were baptized,

married, and buried by the same sacraments, often by the same priest, and were subject to

religious and moral obligations that transcended the boundaries of social class. Such was

most likely to be the case in small communities of unmixed religion or where the lord and

Religion

31. Elite and Popular Cultures

GIN LANE by William Hogarth (English, 1697–1764)

Hogarth showed both the pop- ularity and dangers of alcohol in the lives of Britain’s working classes, as in this illustration of drunkenness in the streets of London. (Universal Images Group/Getty

Images)

The increasing import of coffee and tea made the eighteenth- century coffeehouse a popular meeting place in large cities such as London and Paris. The establishment portrayed here attracted a fashionable, wealthy clientele, but coffee was becom- ing less expensive and many coffeehouses also catered to the lower classes. (Gianni Dagli Orti/The Art Archive

at Art Resource, NY)

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Chapter 7 The Global Struggle for Wealth and Empire272

lady of the manor attended the same church as the villagers. Where different churches

existed in fact, whether or not offi cially tolerated, religion played less of a role in social

cohesion. In England, for example, the Nonconformists, who succeeded the old Puritans

after the Stuart Restoration, developed a kind of middle-class culture that was noticeably

different from the culture of the Anglican gentry. Rich people in both Protestant and Catho-

lic countries sometimes had their own private chaplains or built their own family chapels.

In towns that were big enough for neighborhood diversifi cation some churches became

fashionable and others merely popular. In any case some people in the seventeenth century

were not very religious at all; these less religious persons included those in inaccessible

rural areas as well as some of the poorest in the larger towns, who were often uprooted and

homeless migrants from an overcrowded countryside. Reforming bishops, especially in

France, undertook to ameliorate the situation, so that the seventeenth century was a great

age of internal missionary work, and it may be that in the following century, as skepticism

began to pervade the elite culture, the popular culture became more Christianized than it

had been in the past.

Rich and poor were subject to the same diseases, the same dangers of

tainted food and polluted water, and the same smells and fi lth in noisy

streets littered with horse droppings, puddles, and garbage. But here too, of

course, there were many social differences. In the elite culture people

depended on the daily assistance of servants and called on the medical advice of doctors,

who had been trained in the universities, while ordinary sufferers sought out popular heal-

ers, who were often women and whose remedies consisted of strange herbs or mysterious

potions (women did not become doctors because they could not attend universities). It also

made a difference whether one rode through the streets in a coach, as the affl uent did, or

picked one’s way on foot with the common people. Congestion was worst in rapidly grow-

ing cities, such as London, Paris, Amsterdam, and Naples, where the differences between

wealth and poverty were both more extreme and more shockingly visible. There were

recurrent fears of food shortages, as crop failure and local famine struck this or that region,

in which case some starved and some ate less, while those able to do so simply paid higher

prices. In some towns charitable organizations developed, often on the initiative of upper-

class women, to fi nance and assist religious sisters in relief of the poor. Hunger and the

fear of hunger sometimes produced riots, which however had little political signifi cance

except insofar as upper-class people tried to make use of them for their own purposes.

It was also in less material aspects that the elite and popular cultures increasingly

diverged. The upper strata set a new importance on polite manners, in

which the French now set the tone, with much bowing, doffi ng of hats, and

exchange of compliments, beside which the manners of ordinary people

now seemed uncouth. The etiquette of princely courts became more formal,

the court fools and jesters disappeared, and royalty surrounded itself not

with rough retainers but with ladies and gentlemen. About 1600 the plays of Shakespeare

were staged in public theaters where all classes mixed and enjoyed the same perfor-

mance, but in the following century it became usual for the upper classes to have private

theaters. People of higher social position took to stylish dancing, which their children had

to learn from dancing teachers, while plain people continued to cavort more spontaneously

in country dances and jigs. For evening parties, the polite world met in salons to engage

in the art of cultured conversation, while working people, especially in the country, met in

a neighbor’s house after the day’s labors were over. Conversation was as important for

the rural poor as for the educated elites; and while some of the men and women repaired

Health

Politeness, etiquette,

entertainment

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273

their tools or mended their clothes, the gathered families engaged in local gossip, listened

to storytellers, or learned something about the wider world when a literate person read

aloud from one of the cheaply printed books that were now circulating in even the smallest

villages. The traveling peddlers who sold such books became a kind of early precursor to

modern Internet communications as they carried new information and practical advice to

widely scattered communities across the European countryside.

Enough of these books have survived, along with popular almanacs, to make it pos-

sible to form some ideas of the mental horizons of the nonliterate and inarticulate classes.

They were often written by printers or their employees or by others who were in effect

intermediaries between the elite and popular cultures and who purposely addressed them-

selves to what they knew of popular interests. The almanacs purveyed astrological observa-

tions, advice on the weather, proverbs, and scraps of what had once been science but was

now offered as occult wisdom. Other little books undertook to teach the ABCs or told how

to behave in church; how to approach persons of the other sex; how to show respect for

superiors; or how to compose a proper letter of love, thanks, or condolence, or have such a

letter written by the professional letter writers to whose services illiterate persons resorted.

Still others put into print the stories that had long circulated in the oral tradition, fairy

tales, saints’ lives, or accounts of outlaws such as Robin Hood. Miracles, prodigies, witches,

ogres, angels, and the devil fi gured prominently in such narratives.

It is a curious fact that where educated persons were now schooled in Greek mythol-

ogy and admired the heroes of ancient Rome, the plain people were still engrossed by tales

of medieval chivalry, knights errant, and holy hermits that had once been told in baronial

halls. Memories of the times of King Arthur and Charlemagne lingered in the popular con-

sciousness. There were many long and complex tales of the exploits of Roland and other

paladins who had fought for Christianity against the infi dels, all set in a world of faraway

adventure without defi nite location in time or place. Saracens, Moors, Turks, and Muslims,

and at times Jews, were generally portrayed in such stories as menacing fi gures.

Belief in witchcraft and magic was to be found in 1600 in all social

classes. The witches in Macbeth were perfectly believable to Shakespeare’s audience. Learned books were still written on these subjects, and indeed

it may be that learned writers and the judges in law courts had stirred up

more anxiety about witches and magicians than ordinary people would

otherwise have felt. By 1700, however, a great change was evident: witches, magicians,

and miscellaneous enchantments were disappearing from the elite culture, but they still

fi gured in the popular mind. Unaffected as yet by either science or doubt, most ordinary

people inclined to think that there was something true about magic, which they distin-

guished as good and bad. Good magic unlocked the “secrets” of nature; popular writings

on alchemy told of famous sages of the past who knew how to turn base metals into gold;

there were special formulas that added to the effi cacy of prayer. Some older women had

a secret knowledge of medicinal herbs, in which indeed there might be some pragmatic

value but which was blended with the mysterious and the occult. Bad magic was used to

cause harm; it taught the black arts; it gave force to curses; it often involved a compact

with the devil; it was what made witches so fearsome. By 1700 such ideas were subsid-

ing. Judges who were trained to evaluate empirical evidence no longer believed that such

powers existed, and so would no longer preside at witchcraft trials. The same may be said

of belief in prophecies and oracles: in the elite culture only those recorded in the Bible

retained any credibility, but there was still a popular acceptance of recent prophecies and

foretellings of the future.

Witchcraft and

magic

31. Elite and Popular Cultures

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Chapter 7 The Global Struggle for Wealth and Empire274

Popular culture continued to express itself also in fairs and carnivals. For men and

women who rarely traveled and lived limited lives, these were exciting events that occurred

only at certain times of the year and to which people fl ocked from miles around. At the

fairs one could buy things that local shops and the wandering peddlers could not supply.

There would be puppet shows, jugglers, and acrobats. There were conjurers who refused

to admit like modern magicians that they were using merely natural means. A mountebank

was someone who mounted a platform ( banco in Italian) where he sold questionable remedies for various ills while keeping up a patter of jokes and stories, often accompanied

by a clown. Blind singers and traveling musicians entertained the throngs, and for the

tougher minded there were cockfi ghts and bear baiting. In such a hubbub itinerant preach-

ers might denounce the vanities of this world or throw doubt on the wisdom of bishops

and lawyers.

A CARNIVAL ON THE FEAST DAY OF SAINT GEORGE by Pieter Bruegel, the Younger (Flemish, 1564–1638)

Carnivals broke the normal patterns of daily life in towns and villages throughout the early modern era. This painting shows an early seventeenth-century carnival near the Flemish city of Antwerp, but the games, eating, drinking, dancing, and banners were typical of the carni- vals in almost every European village during this era. (Christie’s Images/Bridgeman Art Library)

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27532. The Global Economy of the Eighteenth Century

Carnival went on for several weeks preceding Lent. The word itself, from the Italian

carne vale, meant “farewell to meat,” from which good Christians were to abstain during the 40-day Lenten fast; in France it climaxed in the Mardi Gras (“fat Tuesday”). It persisted in

Protestant countries also. It was a time for big eating and heavy drinking, for general merry-

making and foolery, and for playful inversions of the normal social hierarchies and cultural

solemnities. Comical processions marched through the streets. Farces were performed and

mock sermons were delivered. Young men showed their strength in tugs-of-war, footraces,

and a rough-and-tumble kind of football. A common theme was what was called in England

“the world turned upside down.” Men and women put on each other’s clothing. Horses

were made to move backward with the rider facing the tail. Little street dramas showed the

servant giving orders to the master, the judge sitting in the stocks, the pupil beating the

teacher, or the husband holding the baby while the wife clutched a gun. In general, the car-

nival was a time for defying custom and ridiculing authority. It is hard to know how much

such outbursts were expressions of genuine resentments and how much they were only a

form of play. They could, indeed, be both.

In 1600 people of all classes took part in these festive activities. In the following

century, as both the Protestant and the Catholic Reformations extended their infl uences,

the clergy undertook to purge such public events of what they considered excesses, and

with the growth of the state the civil authorities began to frown on them as incitements

to subversion. By 1700 the people of elite culture, the wealthy, the fashionable, and

the educated, were more inclined to stay away; or they attended only as spectators to

be amused at the simple pleasures of the common people. In the eighteenth century, as

the various elites took to more formal manners and to neoclassicism in literature and the

arts, the gulf between the elite and popular cultures widened. The clergy campaigned

against the belief in magic and tried to restrain the faithful in the matter of pilgrimages

and veneration of dubious local saints. As the medical profession developed, the popu-

lar healers and venders of mysterious nostrums were seen as charlatans and quacks. As

scientifi c and other knowledge increased among educated elites, those who lacked such

knowledge appeared to be simply superstitious or ignorant. It may be said both that the

elites withdrew from the popular culture and that the people as a whole had not yet been

brought into the education and science of an evolving elite culture. In any case, class

distinctions became sharper than ever. But nothing ever stands still, and before the year

1800 there were persons in the elite culture who were beginning to “rediscover” the people,

to collect ballads and fairy tales, and to lay a foundation for what in the nineteenth cen-

tury was called “folklore.”

32. THE GLOBAL ECONOMY OF THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY

The opening of the Atlantic in the sixteenth century, it will be recalled, had reoriented

Europe. In an age of oceanic communications western Europe became a center from which

America, Asia, and Africa could all be reached. A global economy had been created. The

fi rst to profi t from it had been the Portuguese and Spanish, and they retained their monop-

oly through most of the sixteenth century; but the gradual decline of the Portuguese and

Spanish paved the way for the triumph of the British, the French, and the Dutch. In the

eighteenth century the most important economic development was the expansion of the

global economy and the fact that Europe became incomparably wealthier than any other

part of the world.

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Chapter 7 The Global Struggle for Wealth and Empire276

Commerce and Industry in the Eighteenth Century

The increase of wealth was brought about by the methods of commercial capitalism and

handicraft industry. Though the Industrial Revolution in England is usually dated from

1760 or 1780, it was not until the nineteenth century that the use of steam engines and

power-driven machinery, and the growth of large factories and great manufacturing cities,

brought about the conditions of modern industrialism. The economic system of the eigh-

teenth century, while it contained within itself the seeds of later industrialism, represented

the fl owering of the older merchant capitalism, domestic industry, and mercantilist govern-

ment policies that had grown up since the sixteenth century.

Most people in the eighteenth century lived in the country. Agriculture

was still the greatest single industry and source of wealth. Cities remained

small. London and Paris, the largest of Europe, each had a population of

600,000 or 700,000, but the next largest cities did not much exceed 200,000, and in all

Europe at the time of the French Revolution in 1789 there were only 50 cities with as

many as 50,000 people. Urbanization, however, was in itself no sign of economic advance-

ment. Spain, Italy, and even the Balkan peninsula, according to an estimate made in the

1780s, each had more large cities (over 50,000) than did Great Britain. Urbanization did

not equate with industry because most industry was carried on in the country, by peasants

Rural industry

Most people who were “engaged in manufactures” in eighteenth-century Europe still worked in their own rural homes. This engraving from the early 1780s shows three women at work on cloth in an Irish cottage, where they are spinning and winding thread while another woman contributes to the domestic production by preparing a meal and watching a child. (SSPL/The Image Works)

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277

and part-time agricultural workers who worked for the merchant capitalists of the towns.

Thus, while it is true to say that most people still lived in the country, it would be false to

say that their lives and labors were devoted exclusively to agriculture. One English esti-

mate, made in 1739, held that there were 4,250,000 persons “engaged in manufactures” in

the British Isles, a fi gure that included women and children and comprised almost half the

entire population. These people worked characteristically in their own cottages, employed

as wage earners by merchant capitalists under the “domestic” system. Almost half of them

were engaged in the weaving and processing of woolens. Others were in the copper, iron,

lead, and tin manufactures; others in leather goods; much smaller were the paper, glass,

porcelain, silk, and linen trades; and smallest of all, in 1739, was the manufacture of cotton

cloth, which accounted for only about 100,000 workers. The list suggests that nonagricul-

tural occupations were already important in the preindustrial age.

Even with half its population engaged at least part of the time in manufactures, how-

ever, England was not yet the unrivaled manufacturing country that it was to become after

1800. England in the eighteenth century produced no more iron than Russia and no more

manufactures than France. The population of England was still small; it began to grow

rapidly about 1760, but as late as 1800 France was still twice as populous as England and

Scotland together. France, though less intensively developed than England, with probably

far less than half its people engaged in manufactures, nevertheless, because of its greater

size, remained the chief industrial center of Europe.

Although foreign and colonial trade grew rapidly in the eighteenth century, it is prob-

able that, in both Great Britain and France, the domestic or internal trade was greater in

volume and occupied more people. Great Britain, with no internal tariffs, with an insignifi -

cant guild system, and with no monopolies allowed within the country except to inventors,

was the largest area of internal free trade in Europe. France, or at least Colbert’s Five Great

Farms, offered an almost equal-sized free-trading internal market. A great deal of economic

activity was therefore domestic, consisting of exchange between town and town or between

region and region. The proportions between domestic and international trade cannot be

known. But foreign trade was increasingly important for the largest business enterprises.

International trade created the greatest commercial fortunes and the main accumulations of

new capital. And it was the foreign trade that led to international rivalry and war.

The World Economy: The Dutch, British, and French

On the international economic scene a great part was still played by the

Dutch. After the Peace of Utrecht the Dutch ceased to be a great political

power; but their role in commerce, shipping, and fi nance remained undi-

minished, or diminished only when compared to the continuing commercial growth of

France and Great Britain. They were still the middlemen and common carriers for other

peoples. Their freight rates remained the lowest of Europe. They continued to grow rich

on imports from the East Indies. To a large extent also, in the eighteenth century, the

Dutch lived on their investments. The capital they had accumulated over 200 years they

now lent out to French or British or other entrepreneurs. Dutch capital was to be found

in every large commercial venture of Europe and was lent to governments far and wide.

A third of the capital of the Bank of England in the mid-eighteenth century belonged

to Dutch shareholders. The Bank of Amsterdam remained the chief clearinghouse and

fi nancial center of Europe. Its supremacy did not end until a French Revolutionary army

invaded Holland in 1795.

Trade

32. The Global Economy of the Eighteenth Century

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Chapter 7 The Global Struggle for Wealth and Empire278

The Atlantic trade routes, leading to America, to Africa, and to Asia,

attracted the merchants of many nationalities in Europe. A great many East

India companies were established—usually to do business in America as

well as the East, for the “Indies” at the beginning of the eighteenth century

was still a general term for the vast regions overseas. Both the English and the French East

India companies were reorganized, with an increased investment of capital, shortly after

1700. A number of others were established—by the Scots, the Swedes, the Danes, the

imperial free city of Hamburg, the republic of Venice, Prussia, and the Austrian monarchy.

But, with the exception of the Danish company that lasted some 60 years, they all failed

after only a few years, either for insuffi ciency of capital or because they lacked strong

diplomatic, military, and naval support. Their failure showed that, in the transoceanic

trade, unassisted business enterprise was not enough. Merchants needed strong national

backing to succeed in this sphere. Neither free city, nor small kingdom, nor tiny republic,

nor the amorphous Austrian Empire provided a fi rm enough base to sustain a global

trading company.

It was the British and French who won out in the commercial rivalry

of the eighteenth century. Britain and France were alike in having, besides

a high level of industrial production at home, governments organized on a

national scale and able to protect and advance, under mercantilist principles, the interests

of their merchants in distant countries. For both peoples the eighteenth century—or the

three-quarters of a century between the end of the War of the Spanish Succession in 1713

and the beginning of the French Revolution in 1789—was an age of spectacular enrich-

ment and commercial expansion.

Although the trade fi gures are diffi cult to defi ne precisely, French foreign and colonial

trade may well have grown even more rapidly than the British in the years between the

1720s and the 1780s. In any event, by the 1780s, the two countries were about equal in their

total foreign and colonial trade. The British in the 1780s enjoyed proportionately more of

the trade with America and Asia; the French, more of the trade with the rest of Europe and

the Middle East. The contest for global markets played an important part in the colonial

and commercial wars between Britain and France all through the eighteenth century and

on into the fi nal and climactic struggle, and British triumph, in the time of Napoleon.

Asia, America, and Africa in the Global Economy

In the expanding global economy of the eighteenth century each continent played its spe-

cial part. The European trade with Asia was subject to an ancient limitation. Asia was

almost useless as a market for European manufactures. There was much that Europeans

wanted from Asia but almost nothing that Asians wanted from Europe. The peoples of

Chinese, Indian, and Malay culture had elaborate civilizations with which they were con-

tent; Asian elites in this era lacked the dynamic restlessness of European entrepreneurs, and

the masses were so impoverished (more so even than in Europe) that they could buy noth-

ing anyway. Europeans found that they could send little to Asia except gold. The trade of

gold from Europe to Asia had gone on since ancient times, and even more gold and silver

fl owed to east Asia from European colonies in the Americas after the sixteenth century.

Accumulating over time, the wealth from this trade became one source of the fabulous

treasures of Eastern princes. To fi nance the swelling demand for Asian products it was

necessary for Europeans constantly to replenish their stocks of gold. The British found an

important new supply in Africa along the Gulf of Guinea, where the Royal African

Commercial rivalry

East India companies

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279

Company began to export gold from a region (the present Ghana) that was long called the

Gold Coast. The word “guinea” became the name of a gold coin minted in England from

1663 to 1813 and long remained a fashionable way of saying 21 shillings.

What Europeans sought from Asia was still in part spices—pepper and

ginger, cinnamon and cloves—now brought in mainly by the Dutch from

their East India islands. But they wanted manufactured goods also. Asia was

still in some lines superior to Europe in technical skill. It is enough to men-

tion rugs, chinaware, and cotton cloth. The very names by which cotton fabrics are known

in English and other European languages reveal the places from which they were thought

to come. “Madras” and “calico” refer to the Indian cities of Madras and Calicut; “muslin,”

to the Arabic city of Mosul. “Gingham” comes from a Malay word meaning “striped”;

“chintz,” from a Hindustani word meaning “spotted.” Most of the Eastern manufactures

were increasingly imitated in the eighteenth century in Europe. Axminster and Aubusson

carpets competed with Oriental rugs. In 1709 a German named Boettcher discovered a

formula for making a vitreous and translucent substance comparable to the porcelain of

China; this European “china,” made at Sèvres, Dresden, and in England, soon competed

successfully with the imported original.

Cotton fabrics were never produced in Europe at a price to compete with fabrics from

India until after the introduction of power machinery, which began in England about 1780.

Before that date the European demand for Indian cotton goods was so heavy that the

woolen, linen, and silk interests became alarmed. They could produce nothing like the

sheer muslins and bright calico prints that caught the public fancy, and many governments,

to protect the jobs and capital involved in the old European textile industries, simply for-

bade the import of Indian cottons altogether. But it was a time of many laws and little

enforcement. The forbidden fabrics continued to come in, and the English writer Daniel

Defoe observed in 1708 that, despite the laws, cottons were not only sought as clothing by

all classes, but “crept into our houses, our closets and bedchambers; curtains, cushions,

chairs and at last beds themselves were nothing but calicoes or Indian stuffs.” Gradually,

in the face of tariff protection for “infant industries” in Europe, and the rapid growth of

European cotton manufactures, import of cottons and other manufactures from Asia

declined. After about 1770 most of the imports of the British East India Company con-

sisted of tea, which was brought from China.

The Americas, including the West Indies, bulked larger than Asia in the eighteenth-

century trade of western Europe. The American trade was based mainly on sugar—a

popular commodity that generated enormous profi ts for European traders throughout the

eighteenth century. Sugar had long been known in the East, and in the European Middle

Ages little bits of it had trickled through to delight the palates of lords and

prelates. About 1650 sugar cane was brought in quantities from the East

and planted in the West Indies by Europeans. A whole new economic sys-

tem arose over the next few decades. It was based on the “plantation.” A

plantation was an economic unit consisting of a considerable tract of land,

a sizable investment of capital, often owned by absentees in France or England, and a

force of impressed labor, supplied by enslaved black workers brought from Africa. Sugar,

produced in quantity with cheap labor at low cost, proved to have an inexhaustible market.

The eighteenth century was the golden age, economically speaking, of the West

Indies. From its own islands alone, during the 80 years from 1713 to 1792, Great Britain

imported a total of £162,000,000 worth of goods, almost all sugar; imports from India

and China, in the same 80 years, amounted to only £104,000,000. The little islands of

Spices and Eastern

manufactures

Sugar and the

plantation system

32. The Global Economy of the Eighteenth Century

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Chapter 7 The Global Struggle for Wealth and Empire280

Jamaica, Barbados, St. Kitts, and others, as suppliers of Europe, not only dwarfed the

whole mainland of British America but the whole mainland of Asia as well. For France,

less well established than Britain on the American mainland and in Asia, the same eco-

nomic pattern holds with greater force. France controlled the richest of all the Caribbean

sugar colonies, Saint-Domingue, on the island that the English called Santo Domingo

(which is now divided between Haiti and the Dominican Republic).

The plantation economy, fi rst established in sugar and later in cotton

(after 1800), brought Africa into the foreground. Slaves had been obtained

in Black Africa from time immemorial, by the Roman Empire and later by

the Muslim world, both of which, however, enslaved blacks and whites indiscriminately.

After the European discovery of America, blacks were taken across the Atlantic by the

Spanish and Portuguese to provide labor in places where disease and abuse had deci-

mated the Native American populations. Dutch slavetraders also took enslaved Africans to

Virginia in 1619, a year before the arrival of the fi rst English Pilgrims in Massachusetts.

But slavery in the Americas before 1650 may be described as less systematic. With the rise

of the plantation economy after 1650, and especially after 1700, it became a fundamental

economic institution. Slavery now formed the labor supply of a very substantial and heav-

ily capitalized branch of world production. About 920,000 blacks were landed from Africa

on the island of Jamaica alone between 1700 and 1800; and roughly 800,000 enslaved

people were brought to the French colony of Saint-Domingue. The eighteenth century

thus became the most active era in the long history of the Atlantic slave trade. Seeking

the steady fl ow of profi ts that came mostly from an insatiable demand for slave labor on

Caribbean and Brazilian plantations, European slave traders moved more than 5 million

enslaved Africans to the Americas during the 100 years after 1700. It is certain that, until

well after 1800, far more Africans than Europeans made the voyage to the Americas; and

these manacled, disoriented, vulnerable human beings were transported everywhere in the

most dehumanizing conditions of overcrowded slave ships.

The transatlantic slave trade in the eighteenth century was conducted mainly by

English-speaking interests, principally in England but also in New England, followed as

closely as they could manage it by the French. Yearly export of merchandise from Great

Britain to Africa, used chiefl y in exchange for slaves, increased tenfold between 1713 and

1792. As for merchandise coming into Britain from the British West Indies, virtually all

produced by slaves, in 1790 it constituted almost a fourth of all British imports. If we add

British imports from the American mainland, including what after 1776 became the United

States, the importance of black slave labor to the British economic system will appear still

greater, because a great part of exports from the mainland consisted of agricultural prod-

ucts, such as tobacco and indigo, produced in most places by slaves. The rapid growth of

trade within the British Empire and the phenomenal rise of British capital-

ism in the eighteenth century were therefore based to a considerable extent

on the enslavement of Africans. The town of Liverpool, an insignifi cant

place on the Irish Sea in 1700, built itself up by the slave trade and the trade

in slave-produced commodities to a busy transatlantic commercial center,

which in turn, as will be seen later, stimulated the “industrial revolution” in Manchester

and other neighboring towns.

The western European merchants, British, French, and Dutch, sold the products of

America and Asia to their own peoples and to those of central and eastern Europe. Trade

with Germany and Italy was fairly stable. With Russia it enormously increased. To cite the

British record only, Britain imported 15 times as much from Russia in 1790 as in 1700, and

Slave trade

Slavery and British

capitalism

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281

sold the Russians 6 times as much. The Russian landlords, as they became Europeanized,

desired Western manufactures and the colonial products such as sugar, tobacco, and tea

that could be purchased only from western Europeans. They had grain, timber, and naval

stores to offer in return. Similarly, landlords of Poland and north Germany, in the seven-

teenth and eighteenth centuries, found themselves increasingly able to move their agricul-

tural products out through the Baltic and hence increasingly able to buy the products of

western Europe, America, and Asia in return. Eastern European landlords now had another

incentive to make their estates more productive. The early modern global trading system

therefore began to affect all parts of Europe, including also the landlords and peasants in

central and eastern Europe. The large landowners who sought more profi ts with which to

purchase commodities and other goods coming from the Americas and western Europe

helped to spread “big” agriculture into new areas, developing in eastern Europe a system

not unlike the plantation economy of the New World. This expanding system of European

trade and agriculture had many effects. It contributed, along with political causes, to reduc-

ing the bulk of the eastern European population to serfdom. It helped to bring western

European culture to the upper classes of eastern Europe. And it helped to enrich the cities

and merchants of western Europe.

The Wealth of Western Europe: Social Consequences

The wealth that accumulated along the Atlantic seaboard of Europe was, in short, by no

means produced only by the efforts of western Europeans. All the world contributed to its

formation. The natural resources of the Americas, the gold and people of Africa, the labor

of enslaved workers on Caribbean islands, the resources and manufacturing skills of Asia,

all alike went into producing the vastly increased volume of goods moving in world com-

merce. Europeans directed the movement. They supplied capital; they contributed techni-

cal and organizing abilities; and it was the demand of Europeans, at home in Europe and as

traders abroad, that set increasing numbers of Indians to spinning cotton, Chinese to rais-

ing tea, Malays to gathering spices, and Africans to the tending of sugar cane. A few non-

Europeans might benefi t in the process—Indian or Chinese merchants “subsidized” by the

East Indian companies, African chiefs who captured slaves from neighboring tribes and

sold them to Europeans. But the profi ts of the world economy and the far-fl ung colonial

empires really went to Europe. The new wealth, over and above what was necessary to

keep the widely dispersed and polyglot labor force in being, and to pay other expenses,

piled up in Britain, Holland, and France.

The new wealth was owned and managed by private persons. It accu-

mulated within the system of private property and as part of the institutions

of private enterprise or private capitalism. Governments were increasingly

dependent on these private owners of property, for governments, in western Europe, had

no important sources of revenue except loans and taxes derived from their peoples. When

the owners of wealth gave their support, the government was strong and successful, as

in England. When they withdrew support, the government collapsed, as it was to collapse

in France in the Revolution of 1789.

In a technical sense there were many “capitalists” in western Europe, persons who

had a little savings which they used to buy a parcel of land or a loom or entrusted to some

other person to invest at interest. And in a general sense the new wealth was widely distrib-

uted; the standard of living rose in western Europe in the eighteenth century, in part

because the declining price of popular commodities made such goods more accessible for

Private property

32. The Global Economy of the Eighteenth Century

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Chapter 7 The Global Struggle for Wealth and Empire282

most European consumers. Tea, for example, which cost as much as £10 a pound when

introduced into England about 1650, was an article of common consumption a hundred

years later. But wealth used to produce more wealth, that is, capital, was owned or con-

trolled in signifi cant amounts by relatively few persons. In the eighteenth century some

people became unprecedentedly rich (including some who started quite poor, for it was a

time of open opportunity); the great intermediate layers of society became noticeably

more comfortable; and the people at the bottom, such as the serfs of eastern Europe, the

Irish peasantry, the dispossessed farm workers in England, and the poorest peasants and

workers of France, were worse off than they had been before. The poor continued to live

in hovels. The prosperous created for themselves that pleasant, comfortable world of

the eighteenth century that connoisseurs still admire, a world of well-ordered Georgian

homes, closely cropped lawns and shrubs, furniture by Chippendale or à la Louis XV,

coach-and-four, family portraits, high chandeliers, books bound in morocco, and a staff of

servants “below stairs.”

European traders and merchants gained much of their new wealth in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries from commodities produced on plantations in the Americas and the Caribbean. This plantation economy depended on the labor of enslaved African workers such as the people in this seventeenth century illustration, who are preparing tobacco for export from one of the Caribbean islands. (The Granger Collection, NYC)

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283

Families enriched by commerce, and especially the daughters, mixed

and intermarried with the old families who owned land. Women thus played

an essential economic role in the carefully arranged marriages that both

protected and increased the wealth of upper-class families. Landowners

needed the capital that could be acquired through marriages with the daugh-

ters of wealthy traders; prosperous entrepreneurs sought the landed properties that might

come into their families through marriages with women of the old aristocracy. But mar-

riage was only one of the ways in which the old and new wealth of Europe came together.

The merchant in England or France no sooner became prosperous than he bought himself

a landed estate. In France he might also purchase a government offi ce or patent of nobil-

ity. Contrariwise, the landowning gentleman, especially in England, no sooner increased

his landed income than he invested the proceeds in commercial enterprise or government

bonds. The two forms of property, bourgeois commerce and aristocratic land, tended to

merge. The various propertied interests usually worked harmoniously together, and the

unpropertied classes, the vast majority, could infl uence the government only by riot and

tumult. The eighteenth century, though an era of rapid commercial expansion, was on the

whole an age of considerable social stability in western Europe. It was the upheavals of

the French Revolution that would eventually disrupt and transform much of the social and

political order that had developed since the late seventeenth century through the fusion of

commercial and landed wealth.

The foregoing might be illustrated from the lives of thousands of men and women.

Two examples are enough, one English and one French. They show the working of the

world economic system, the rise of the commercial class in western Europe, and the role of

that class in the political life of the Western countries.

Thomas Pitt, called “Diamond” Pitt, was born in 1653, the son of a

parish clergyman in the Church of England. He went to India in 1674. Here

he operated as an “interloper,” trading in defi ance of the legal monopoly of

the East India Company. Returning to England, he was prosecuted by the company and

fi ned £400 but was rich enough to buy the manor of Stratford and with it the borough of

Old Sarum, a rotten borough that gave him a seat in the House of Commons without the

trouble of an election. He soon returned to India, again as an interloper, where he com-

peted so successfully with the company that it fi nally took him into its own employment.

He traded on his own account, as well as for the company, and he defended the position of

the company in Chennai (a city then called Madras) against the local ruler of the Carnatic,

the coastal area around Chennai, buying him off with money. In 1702, though his salary

was only £300 a year, he purchased a 410-carat uncut diamond for £20,400. He bought it

from an Indian merchant who had himself bought it from an English skipper, who in turn

had stolen it from the slave who had found it in the mines and who had concealed it in a

wound in his leg. Back in Europe, Pitt had his diamond cut at Amsterdam and sold it in

1717 to the regent of France for £135,000. The regent put it in the French crown; it was

appraised at the time of the French Revolution at £480,000. “Diamond” Pitt died in 1726.

One of his daughters became the Countess of Stanhope and one of his sons became the

Earl of Londonderry. Another son became father to the William Pitt who guided Britain

through the Seven Years’ War with France and who was raised to the peerage as the Earl

of Chatham. The city of Pittsburgh was named for this Pitt, so that a fortune gained by

unconventional or illicit means in India later gave its name to a frontier settlement in the

interior of America. Chatham’s younger son, the second William Pitt, became prime min-

ister at 24. The younger Pitt guided Britain through its wars with revolutionary France and

Napoleon, until his death in 1806 during the high tide of the Napoleonic Empire.

Thomas Pitt

The merging of

bourgeois and

aristocratic wealth

32. The Global Economy of the Eighteenth Century

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Chapter 7 The Global Struggle for Wealth and Empire284

Jean-Joseph Laborde was born in 1724, of a bourgeois family in

southern France, but his career showed how commercial wealth could

transform a person’s social position. He went to work for an uncle who

had a business at Bayonne trading with Spain and the East. From the prof-

its he built up vast plantations and slaveholdings in the colony of Saint-Domingue. His

ships brought sugar to Europe and returned with prefabricated building materials, each

piece carefully numbered, for his plantations and refi neries in the West Indies. Wealth

from the sugar trade enabled him to become one of the leading bankers in Paris. His

daughter became the Countess de Noailles. He himself received the title of marquis,

which he did not use. He bought manors and châteaux near Paris. As a real estate opera-

tor he developed that part of Paris, then suburban, now called the Chaussée d’Antin. By

1760 he was directing the king’s tax collection system; and during the Seven Years’ War

he was sent by the French government to borrow money in Spain, where he was told that

Spain would lend nothing to Louis XV but would gladly lend him personally 20,000,000

reals. In the War of American Independence Laborde raised 12,000,000 livres in gold for

the government to help pay the French army and navy, thus contributing to the success of

the American Revolution. He acted as investment agent for Voltaire, gave 24,000 livres

a year to charity, and subscribed 400,000 livres in 1788 toward building new hospitals

in Paris. In July 1789 he helped to fi nance the insurrection that led to the fall of the

Bastille and the Revolution. His son, in June 1789, took the Oath of the Tennis Court,

swearing to write a constitution for France. Despite his early support for the Revolu-

tion, Laborde himself was guillotined in 1794. His children later turned to scholarship

and the arts.

THE DUET by Arthur Devis (English, 1711–1787)

The prosperity of the upper classes in eighteenth-century England supported the cul- ture and comforts that are represented in this painting. Expanding global trade pro- vided a pleasant, comfortable life for increasingly wealthy European elites and a new market for good furniture, fi ne art, and talented gardeners. (Victoria & Albert Museum/Art

Resource, NY)

Jean-Joseph Laborde

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28533. Western Europe after the Peace of Utrecht, 1713–1740

33. WESTERN EUROPE AFTER THE PEACE OF UTRECHT, 1713–1740

Amid the social and economic transitions that were transforming early modern Europe’s

relations with the wider world, the major European states continued their struggles for

international power and political infl uence within Europe itself. The evolving competition

for global trade and profi table colonies, however, became an increasingly important factor

in most European confl icts, even when such confl icts extended the now-traditional efforts

to maintain a stable balance of power among the various continental monarchies. The

Peace of Utrecht, it will be recalled, had registered the defeat of French ambitions in the

wars of Louis XIV. The French move toward “universal monarchy” had been blocked.

The European state system had been preserved. Europe was to consist of independent and

sovereign states, all legally free and equal, continuously entering or leaving alliances along

the principles of the balance of power. The peace settlement of 1713–1714 placed the

Bourbon Philip V on the Spanish throne but gave most of Spain’s European possessions,

outside Spain itself, to the Austrian Habsburgs (see maps, pp. 192, 327). Great Britain,

which had been consolidated during the wars as a combined kingdom of England and

Scotland, took Newfoundland, Nova Scotia, and the Hudson Bay region from France and,

taking Gibraltar and Minorca from Spain, became a naval power in the Mediterranean. The

British also received trading rights in Spanish America, thus expanding their role in the

Atlantic slave trade and enhancing their position as the most dynamic power in the rapidly

developing transatlantic economic system.

Governments now turned to repairing the damages of war. Spain was

somewhat rejuvenated by the French infl uence under its new Bourbon

monarchy. The drift and decadence that had set in under the last Habsburgs

were at least halted. The Spanish state was administratively strengthened.

Its offi cials followed the absolutist government of Louis XIV as a model. The estates of

the east-Spanish kingdoms, Aragon and Valencia, ceased to meet, going like the Estates

General of France into the limbo of obsolete institutions. On the whole the French infl u-

ence in eighteenth-century Spain was intangible. Nothing was changed in substance, but

the old machinery functioned with more precision. Administrators were better trained

and took a more constructive attitude toward government work; they became more aware

of the world north of the Pyrenees and recovered confi dence in their country’s future. They

tried also to tighten up the administration of their American Empire. More revenue offi cers

and coast guards were introduced in the Caribbean, whose zeal led to repeated clashes with

smugglers, mainly British. Friction along the Spanish-controlled coasts of the American

mainland, reinforced by Spanish dislike for British occupation of Gibraltar, kept Spain and

Britain in a continual ferment of potential hostility.

The Dutch after Utrecht receded from the international political stage, though their

alliance was always sought because of the huge shipping and fi nancial resources they con-

trolled. The Swiss also became important in banking and fi nancial circles. The Belgians

founded an overseas trading company in 1723 on the authority of their new Austrian ruler;

this “Ostend Company” sent out six voyages to China, which were highly profi table, but

the commercial jealousy of the Dutch and British obliged the Austrian emperor to with-

draw his support as a price for British recognition of his daughter’s right to inherit the

Austrian throne. The Ostend enterprise thus came to an end. The Scots began at about this

time to play their remarkable role of energizing business affairs in many countries. Union

with England gave them access to the British Empire and to the numerous commercial

Repairing the

damages of war

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Chapter 7 The Global Struggle for Wealth and Empire286

advantages won by the English. John Law, the fi nancial wizard of France, was a Scot, as

was William Paterson, one of the chief founders of the Bank of England.

France and Britain after 1713

Our main attention falls on Britain and France. Though one was the victor and the other

the vanquished in the wars that ended in 1713, and though one stood for royal absolut-

ism and the other for parliamentary constitutionalism in government, their development

in the years after Utrecht was in some ways surprisingly parallel. In both countries for

some years the king was personally ineffective, and in both the various propertied interests

therefore gained many advantages. Both pursued the commercial and colonial expansion

described above. Both went through a short period of fi nancial experimentation and frantic

speculation in stocks, the fi nancial bubble bursting in each case in 1720. Each was there-

after governed by a statesman, Cardinal Fleury in France and Robert Walpole in England,

whose policy was to keep peace abroad and conciliate all interests at home. Fleury and

Walpole held offi ce for about two decades, toward the end of which the two countries

again went to war. But the differences are at least as instructive as the parallels.

In France the new king was a child, Louis XV, the great-grandson of Louis XIV, and

only fi ve years old when his reign began in 1715. The government was entrusted to a

regent, the Duke of Orleans, an elder cousin of the young king. Orleans, lacking the author-

ity of a monarch, had to admit the aristocracy to a greater share of the power that nobles

had lost during the long reign of Louis XIV. Most of the nobles had never liked the abso-

lutist policies of Louis XIV, and there was much dissatisfaction with absolutism among all

classes, because of the ruin and suffering brought by Louis XIV’s wars.

The higher nobles, ousted by Louis XIV, now reappeared in the gov-

ernment. For a time Orleans worked through committees of noblemen,

roughly corresponding to ministries, a system lauded by its backers as a

revival of political freedom; but the committees proved so incompetent that

they were soon abandoned. The old parlements of France, and especially

the Parlement of Paris, which Louis XIV had reduced to silence, vigorously reasserted

themselves after his death. The parlements were primarily law courts, originally composed

of bourgeois judges. But Louis XIV and his predecessors, to raise money, had made the

judgeships into offi ces to be sold; and they attached titles of nobility to increase the price.

Hence in the time of the Regency the judges of the parlements had bought or inherited

their seats and were almost all nobles. Because they owned their offi ces as a kind of private

property, they could not be removed by the king. The Regent conceded much infl uence to

the Parlement of Paris, utilizing it to modify the will of Louis XIV. The parlements thus

broadened their position, claiming the right to assent to legislation and taxes, through

refusing to enforce government measures that they considered contrary to the unwritten

constitution or fundamental laws of France. They managed to exercise this right, off and

on, from the days of the Regency until the great Revolution of 1789. The eighteenth cen-

tury, for France, was a period of absolutism checked and balanced by organized privileged

groups. It was an age of aristocratic resurgence, in which the nobles won back many of the

powers that Louis XIV had taken from them in the seventeenth century.

In Great Britain the Parliament was very different from the French par-

lements, and the British aristocracy was more politically competent than

the noblesse of France. Parliament proved an effective machine for the con- duct of public business. The House of Lords was hereditary, with the large

Aristocratic

resurgence

The English

Parliament

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287

exception of the bishops, who were appointed by the government and made up about a

quarter of the active members of the upper house. The House of Commons was not at

all representative of the country according to modern ideas. Only the wealthy, or those

patronized by the wealthy, could sit in it, and they were chosen by diverse and eccentric

methods, in counties and towns, almost without regard to the size or wishes of the popu-

lation. Some boroughs were owned outright, like the Old Sarum of the Pitt family. But

through the machinations of bosses, or purchase of seats, all kinds of interests managed

to get representatives into the Commons. Some members spoke for the “landed interest”;

others for the “funded interest” (mainly government creditors); others for the “London

interest,” the “West India interest,” the “East India interest,” and others. All of the leading

economic groups and politically signifi cant social classes could expect to have their desires

heeded in Parliament, and all therefore were willing to go through parliamentary channels.

Parliament was corrupt, slow, and expensive, but it was effective. For Parliament was not

only a roughly representative body; it had also acquired, in practice, the power to legislate.

Queen Anne, the last reigning Stuart, died in 1714. She was succeeded by George I,

Elector of Hanover, as provided for by Parliament in the Act of Settlement of 1701.

George I was the nearest relative of the Stuarts who was also a Protestant. A heavy middle-

aged German who spoke no English, he continued to spend much of his time in Germany,

and he brought with him to England a retinue of German ministers and mistresses. He

was never popular in England, where he was regarded as at best a political convenience.

He was in no position to play a strong hand in English public life, and during his reign

Parliament gained considerable independence from the crown.

The main problem was still whether the principles of the Revolution of 1688 should

be maintained. The Whigs, who considered the revolution as their work, long remained a

minority made up of a few great landowning noblemen, wealthy London merchants, lesser

businesspeople, and nonconformists in religion. The Whigs generally controlled the House

of Lords, but the House of Commons was more uncertain; at the time of the Peace of

Utrecht its majority was Tory. We have already noted the signifi cance for English consti-

tutional development of the confl ict at that time between the prowar Whig majority in the

House of Lords and the Tory majority in Commons and how the confl ict was resolved to

help establish the enduring primacy of the House of Commons.

After 1714 the two parties tended to dissolve, and the terms “Whig”

and “Tory” ceased to have much defi nite meaning. In general the gov-

ernment, and the Anglican bishops who were close to the government,

remained “Whig.” Men who were remote from the central government, or

suspicious of its activities, formed a kind of country party quite different from the earlier

Tories. Gentry and yeomen of the shires and byways were easily aroused against the great

noblemen and men of money who led the Whigs. In the established church the lesser

clergy were sometimes critical of the Whig bishops. Outside the offi cial church were a

group of Anglican clergy who refused the oath of loyalty after 1688 and were called Non-

Jurors; they kept alive a shadow church until 1805. In Scotland also, the ancestral home of

the Stuarts, many were disaffected with the new regime.

Tories, Non-Jurors, and Scots made up a milieu after 1688 in which what would now

be called counterrevolution might develop. Never enthusiastic for the “Whig wars” against

France, critical of the mounting national debt that the wars created, distrustful of the busi-

ness and moneyed interests, they began to look wistfully to the exiled Stuarts. After 1701,

when James died in France, the Stuart claims devolved upon his son, who lived until 1766,

scheming time and again to make himself king of England. His partisans were known as

Whigs and Tories

33. Western Europe after the Peace of Utrecht, 1713–1740

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Chapter 7 The Global Struggle for Wealth and Empire288

Jacobites, from Jacobus, the Latin for James. They claimed that he had a divine right to the monarchy and regarded him as “James III,” whereas others called him the Pretender. The

Jacobites felt that if he would give up his Catholic religion, he should

be accepted as Britain’s rightful king.

The Whigs could not tolerate a return of the Stuarts. The restoration of

“James III” and his divine-right partisans would undo the principles of the

Glorious Revolution—limited monarchy, constitutionalism, parliamentary supremacy, the

rule of law, the toleration of dissenting Protestants, in short all that was summarized and

defended in the political writings of John Locke. Moreover, those who held stock in the

Bank of England or who had lent their money to the government would be ruined, because

“James III” would surely repudiate a debt contracted by his foes. The Whigs were bound

to support the Hanoverian George I. And George I was bound to look for support in a

strange country among the Whigs.

George lacked personal appeal even for his English friends. To his enemies he was

ridiculous and repulsive. The successful establishment of his dynasty would ruin the hopes

of Tories and Jacobites. In 1715 the Pretender landed in Scotland, gathered followers from

the Highlands, and proclaimed a rebellion against George I. Civil war seemed to threaten.

But the Jacobite leaders bungled, and many of their followers proved to be

undecided. They were willing enough to toast the “king over the water” in

protest against the Whigs but not willing in a showdown to see the Stuarts,

and all that went with them, again in possession of the crown of England.

The Fifteen, as the revolt came to be called, petered out. But 30 years later came the

Forty-fi ve. In 1745, during war with France, the Pretender’s son, “Bonnie Prince Charlie”

or the “Young Pretender,” again landed in Scotland and again proclaimed rebellion. This

time, though almost no one in England rallied, the uprising was more successful. A Scot-

tish force penetrated to within 80 miles of London and was driven back and crushed with

the help of Hanoverian regiments rushed over from Germany. The government set out

to destroy Jacobitism in the Scottish Highlands. The social system of the Highlands was

wiped out, the clans were broken up, and their lands were forcibly reorganized according

to modern notions of property and of landlord and tenant.

The Jacobite uprisings confi rmed the old reputation of England in the eyes of Europe,

namely, as Voltaire said, that its government was as stormy as the seas that surrounded

it. To partisans of monarchy on the Continent the uprisings showed the weaknesses of

parliamentary government. But their ignominious collapse actually strengthened the

parliamentary regime in England. They left little permanent mark and soon passed into

romantic legend.

The “Bubbles”

Meanwhile, immediately after the Peace of Utrecht, the problem of dealing with a large

postwar government debt had to be faced in both England and France. Organized perma-

nent public debt was new at the time. The possibilities and limitations of large-scale bank-

ing, paper money, and credit were not clearly seen. In France there was much amazement

at the way in which England and Holland, though smaller and less wealthy than France,

had been able to maximize their resources through banking and credit and even to fi nance

the alliance that had eclipsed the Sun King. In addition there was much private demand for

both lending and borrowing money. Private persons all over western Europe were looking

for enterprises in which to invest their savings. And promoters and organizers, anticipating

“James III”

Threats of civil war

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289

a profi t in this or that line of business, were looking for capital with which to work. Out of

this whole situation grew the “South Sea bubble” in England and the “Mississippi bubble”

in France. Both bubbles broke in 1720, and both had important long-range effects.

A close tie between government fi nance and private enterprise was

usual at the time, under mercantilist ideas of government guidance of trade.

In England, for example, a good deal of the government debt was held by

trading companies organized for that purpose. The government would char-

ter a company, strengthen it with a monopoly in a given line of business,

and then receive from the company, after the stockholders had bought up the shares, a

large sum of cash as a loan. Much of the British debt, contracted in the wars from 1689 to

1713, was held in this way by the Bank of England, founded in 1694; by the East India

Company, reorganized in 1708 in such a way as to provide funds for the government; and

Ties between

government and

private enterprise

33. Western Europe after the Peace of Utrecht, 1713–1740

Critics of John Law ridiculed the Scottish fi nancier’s plan to pay off the French government’s debt with profi ts from the sale of shares in the “Mississippi Company.” This early eighteenth- century Dutch cartoon, for example, described Law as a “wind monopolist” and mocked him for selling nothing more than strong breezes to naïve investors. (Bettmann/Corbis)

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Chapter 7 The Global Struggle for Wealth and Empire290

by the South Sea Company, founded in 1711. The Bank enjoyed a legal monopoly over

certain banking operations in London, the East India Company over trade with the East,

the South Sea Company for exploiting the asiento and other commercial privileges extorted from Spain. The companies were owned by private investors. Savings drawn from trade

and agriculture, put into shares in these companies, became available both for economic

reinvestment and for use by the government in defraying the costs of war.

In 1716 the Prince Regent of France was attracted to a Scottish fi nan-

cier, John Law, reputedly because Law had a remarkable mathematical

system for gambling at cards. Law founded a much-needed French cen-

tral bank. In the next year, 1717, he organized a Compagnie d’Occident, popularly called the Mississippi Company, which obtained a monopoly of trade with Louisiana, where it

founded New Orleans in 1718. This company, under Law’s management, soon absorbed

the French East India, China, Senegal, and African companies. It now enjoyed a legal

monopoly of all French colonial trade. Seeing this trade as a means to solve France’s

fi nancial problems, the Regent authorized Law to assume the entire government debt. The

Mississippi Company received from individuals their certifi cates of royal indebtedness or

“bonds” and gave them shares of company stock in return. It proposed to pay dividends on

these shares and to extinguish the debt from profi ts in the colonial trade and from a monop-

oly over the collection of all indirect taxes in France. The project carried with it a plan for

drastic reform of the whole taxation system, to make taxes both more fair to the taxpayer

and more lucrative to the government. Shares in the Mississippi Company were gobbled

up by the public. There was a frenzy of speculation, a wild fear of not buying soon enough.

Quotations rose to 18,000 livres a share. But the company rested only on unrealized proj-

ects. Shareholders began to fear for their money. They began to unload. The market broke

sharply. Many found their life savings gone. Others lost ancestral estates on which they

had borrowed in the hope of getting rich. Those, however, who had owned shares in the

company before the rise, and who had resisted the speculative fever, lost nothing by the

bursting of infl ated prices and later enjoyed a gilt-edged commercial investment.

Much the same thing happened in England, where many believed that Law was about

to provide a panacea for France. The South Sea Company, outbidding the Bank of England,

took over a large fraction of the public debt by receiving government “bonds” from their

owners in return for shares of its stock. The size and speed of profi ts to be made in Spanish

America were greatly exaggerated, and the market value of South Sea shares rose rapidly

for a time, reaching £1,050 for a share of £100 par value. Other schemes abounded in the

passion for easy money. Promoters organized mining and textile companies, as well as

others of more fanciful or bolder design—a company to bring live fi sh to market in tanks,

an insurance company to insure female chastity, even a company “for an undertaking which

shall in due time be revealed.” Shares in such enterprises were snatched at mounting prices.

But in September 1720 the South Sea stockholders began to sell, doubting whether opera-

tions would pay dividends commensurate to £1,000 a share. They dragged down the whole

unstable structure. As in France, many people found that their savings or their inheritances

had disappeared in the fi nancial implosion of a speculative bubble.

Indignation in both countries was extreme. Both governments were implicated in the

scandal. John Law fl ed to Brussels. The Regent was discredited; he resigned in 1723,

and French affairs were afterward conducted by Cardinal Fleury. In England there was a

change of ministers. Robert Walpole, a country gentleman of Whig persuasion who had

long sat in the Commons and who had warned against the South Sea scheme from the

beginning, became the principal minister to George I.

John Law

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291

Britain recovered from the crisis more successfully than France. Law’s bank, a useful

institution, was dissolved in the reaction against him, and France lacked an adequate bank-

ing and credit system during the rest of the century. French investors developed a morbid

fear of paper securities and a marked preference for putting their savings

into land. In England the same fears were felt. Parliament passed the

“Bubble Act,” forbidding all companies except those specifi cally chartered

by the government to raise capital by the sale of stock. In both countries the

development of joint-stock fi nancing along the lines of the modern corporation was slowed

down for over a century. Business enterprises continued to be typically owned by individ-

uals and partnerships, which expanded by reinvestment of their own profi ts and so had

another reason to keep profi ts up and wages down. But in England Walpole managed to

save the South Sea Company, the East India Company, and the Bank, all of which were

temporarily discredited in the eyes of the public. England continued to perfect its fi nancial

machinery.

The credit of the two governments was also shaken by the “bubbles.” Much of the

French war debt was repudiated in one way or another. Repudiation was in many cases

morally justifi able, for many government creditors were unscrupulous war profi teers, but

fi nancially it was disastrous, for it discouraged honest people from lending their money to

the state. Nor was much accomplished toward reform of the taxes. The nobles continued

to evade taxes imposed on them by Louis XIV, John Law’s plans for taxation evaporated

with the rest of his project, and when in 1726 a fi nance minister tried to levy a 2 percent

tax on all property, the vested interests, led by the Parlement of Paris, demolished this pro-

posal also. Lacking an adequate revenue, and repudiating its debts, the French monarchy

had little credit. The conception of the public or national debt hardly devel-

oped in France in the eighteenth century. The debt was considered to be the

king’s debt, for which no one except a few ministers felt any responsibility.

The Bourbon government in fact often borrowed through the church, the

Provincial Estates, or the city of Paris, which lenders considered to be bet-

ter fi nancial risks than the king himself. The government was severely handicapped in its

foreign policy and its wars. It could not fully tap the wealth of its own subjects or expand-

ing global commerce.

In England none of the government debt was repudiated. Walpole managed to launch

and keep going the system of the sinking fund, by which the government regularly set

aside the wherewithal to pay interest and principal on its obligations. The credit of the

British government became absolutely fi rm. The debt was considered a national debt, for

which the British people themselves assumed the responsibility. Parliamentary govern-

ment made this development possible. In France no one could tell what the king or his

ministers might do, and hence the French were reluctant to trust them with their money.

In England the people who had the money could also, through Parliament, determine the

policies of state, decide what the money should be spent for, and levy enough taxes to

maintain confi dence in the debt. England’s social elites nevertheless shared the common

French aversion to taxes that would most affect their own interests, and the landowners

who controlled the British Parliament, like those who controlled the Parlement of Paris,

resisted direct taxation. The British government therefore drew two-thirds or more of its

revenues from indirect taxes paid by the mass of the population. Yet British landowners,

even dukes, did pay signifi cant amounts of taxes. There were no exemptions by class or

rank, as in France. All propertied interests had a stake in the government. The wealth of the

country stood behind the national debt. The national credit seemed inexhaustible. This was

The “Bubble Act”

Credit and the

National Debt

33. Western Europe after the Peace of Utrecht, 1713–1740

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Chapter 7 The Global Struggle for Wealth and Empire292

M. BACHELIER, DIRECTOR OF THE LYONS FARMS by Jean-Baptiste Oudry (French, 1686–1755)

The “farms” of which M. Bachelier was a director were the semiprivate syndicates to which the French monarchy delegated or farmed out the collection of its indirect taxes. Tax farmers were generally hated, and many became very rich. Nothing is known of the man in this picture, but with his huge wig, his lace cuffs, and his left hand politely extended, he typifi es the ruling elite in early eighteenth-century France. (University of Michigan Museum of Art)

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293

the supreme trump card of the British in their wars with France from the founding of the

Bank of England in 1694 to the fall of Napoleon 120 years later. And it was the political

freedom and power of Parliament that gave Britain’s government its economic strength.

Fleury in France; Walpole in England

Fleury was 73 years old when he took offi ce in 1726 and 90 when he left it. He was thus not

inclined to initiate programs for the distant future. Louis XV, as he came of age, proved to be

indolent and selfi sh. Public affairs drifted, while France grew privately more wealthy, espe-

cially the commercial and bourgeois classes. Walpole likewise kept out of controversies. His

motto was quieta non movere, “let sleeping dogs lie.” He sought to win over the Tory squires to the Hanoverian and Whig regime by keeping the land taxes low. This policy was success-

ful, and Jacobitism quieted down. Walpole supported the Bank, the trading companies, and

the fi nancial interests, and they in turn supported him. It was a time of political calm, in

which the lower classes were quiet and the upper classes were not quarreling; and it was

therefore a favorable time for the development of parliamentary institutions.

Walpole has been called the fi rst prime minister and the architect of

cabinet government, a system in which the prime minister and the ministers

who head the cabinet departments are also members of the legislative body.

He saw to it, by careful rigging, that a majority in the Commons always

supported him. He avoided issues on which his majority might be lost. He thus began to

acknowledge the principle of cabinet responsibility to a majority in Parliament, which was

to become an important characteristic of cabinet government. And by selecting colleagues

who agreed with him, and getting rid of those who did not, he advanced the idea of the

cabinet as a body of ministers bound to each other and to the prime minister, obligated to

follow the same policies and to stand or fall as a group. Thus Parliament was not only a rep-

resentative or deliberative body, but also one that developed an effective executive power,

without which neither representative government nor any government could survive.

To assure peace and quiet in domestic politics the best means was to avoid raising

taxes. And the best way to avoid taxes was to avoid war. Fleury and Walpole both tried to

keep at peace. They were not in the long run successful. Fleury was drawn into the War of

the Polish Succession in 1733. Walpole kept England out of war until 1739. He always had

a war party to contend with, and the most bellicose were those interested in the American

trade—the slave trade, the sugar plantations, and the illicit sale of goods in the Spanish

Empire. The British offi cial fi gures show that while trade with Europe in the eighteenth

century was always less in war than in peace, trade with America always increased during

war, except, indeed, during the War of American Independence.

In the 1730s there were constant complaints of indignities suffered by Britons on the

coasts of Spain’s American colonies. The war party produced a Captain Jenkins, who car-

ried with him a small box containing a withered ear, which he said had been cut from his

head by the outrageous Spaniards. Testifying in the House of Commons, where he “com-

mended his soul to God and his cause to his country,” he stirred up a commotion that led

to war. So in 1739, after 25 years of peace, England plunged with wild enthusiasm into the

War of Jenkins’s Ear. “They are ringing the bells now,” said Walpole; “they will soon be

wringing their hands.” The war soon merged into a confl ict involving Europeans and oth-

ers in all parts of the world. European wars could no longer be contained within Europe.

The global economic and colonial systems that produced the expanding global trade also

produced a series of global wars in which the European powers extended their confl icts

across all of the distant territories and seas they sought to control.

Cabinet government

33. Western Europe after the Peace of Utrecht, 1713–1740

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Chapter 7 The Global Struggle for Wealth and Empire294

34. THE GREAT WAR OF THE MID-EIGHTEENTH CENTURY: THE PEACE OF PARIS, 1763

The fi ghting lasted until 1763, with an uneasy interlude between 1748 and 1756. It went

by many names. The opening hostilities between England and Spain were called, by the

English, the War of Jenkins’s Ear. The struggle on the Continent in the 1740s over the

Habsburg inheritance of the Austrian Empire was often known as the War of the Pragmatic

Sanction. The Prussians spoke of the three “Silesian” wars. British colonials in America

called the fi ghting of the 1740s King George’s War, or used the term “French and Indian

Wars,” for the whole sporadic confl ict. Disorganized and nameless struggles at the same

time shook the peoples of India. Eventually these widely scattered confl icts came to be

called by two names: the War of the Austrian Succession (for hostilities between 1740 and

1748) and the Seven Years’ War (for the confl icts between 1756 and 1763). The two wars

were really one. They involved the same two principal issues: the global duel of Britain

and France for colonies, trade, and sea power, and the European duel of Prussia and

Austria for territory and military power in central Europe.

Eighteenth-Century Warfare

Warfare at the time was in a kind of classical phase, which strongly affected the develop-

ment of events. It was somewhat slow, formal, elaborate, and indecisive. The enlisted ranks

of armies and navies were fi lled with men considered economically useless, picked up by

recruiting offi cers among unwary loungers in taverns or on the wharves. All governments

protected their productive population, peasants, mechanics, and bourgeois, preferring to

keep them at home, at work, and paying taxes. Soldiers became a class apart, enrolled for

long terms, paid wages, professional in their outlook, and highly trained. They lived in

barracks or great forts and were dressed in bright uniforms (like the British “redcoats”),

which, because camoufl age was unnecessary, they wore even in battle. Weapons were not

powerful; infantry was predominant and was armed in this era with the smooth-bore

musket to which the bayonet could be attached. In war the troops depended on great supply

depots built up beforehand, which were practically immovable with the transportation

available, so that armies, at least in central and western Europe, rarely operated more than

a few days’ march from their bases. Soldiers fought methodically for pay. Generals hesi-

tated to risk their troops, which took years to train and equip and were very expensive.

Strategy took the form not of seeking out the enemy’s main force to destroy it in battle but

of maneuvering for advantages of position, applying a cumulative and sub-

tle pressure somewhat as in a game of chess.

There was little religious or national feeling in such wars, though new

kinds of “patriotic” thought and identity began to emerge by the 1760s in

England and France. The Prussian army recruited half or more of its enlisted personnel

outside Prussia; the British army was largely made up of Hanoverian or other German

regiments; even the French army had German units incorporated in it. Deserters from one

side were enlisted by the other. War was between governments, or between the oligarchies

and aristocracies that governments represented, not between whole peoples. It was fought

for power, prestige, or calculated practical interests, not for ideologies, moral principles,

world conquest, national survival, or ways of life. Popular nationalism had developed far-

thest in England, where “Rule Britannia” and “God Save the King,” both breathing a low

opinion of foreigners, became popular songs during these mid-eighteenth-century wars.

Little national feeling

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29534. The Great War of the Mid-Eighteenth Century: The Peace of Paris, 1763

Civilians were little affected, except in India or the American wilderness where

European conditions did not prevail. In Europe, a government aspiring to conquer a neigh-

boring province did not wish to ruin or antagonize it beforehand. The fact that the western

European struggle was largely naval kept it well outside civilian experience. Never had war

been so contained within such parameters, certainly not in the religious wars of earlier times

or in the national and “total” wars initiated later. This was one reason why governments went

to war so easily. On the other hand governments also withdrew from war much more readily

than in later times. Their treasuries might be exhausted, their trained soldiers used up; only

practical or strategic questions were at stake; there was no war hysteria or pressure of mass

opinion; the enemy of today might be the ally of tomorrow. Peace was almost as easy to make

as war. Peace treaties were negotiated, not imposed. So the eighteenth century saw a series of

wars and treaties and rearrangements of alliances, all arising over much the same issues and

with exactly the same powers present at the end as at the beginning.

The War of the Austrian Succession, 1740–1748

The War of the Austrian Succession was started by the king of Prussia.

Frederick II, or the “Great,” was a young man of 28 when he became king

in 1740. His youth had not been happy; he was temperamentally incompat-

ible with his father. His tastes as a prince had run to playing the fl ute, corresponding with

French authors, and writing prose and verse in the French language. His father, the sober,

military-minded Frederick William I, thought him frivolous and dealt with him so clumsily

that at the age of 18 he tried to escape from the kingdom. Caught and brought back, he was

forced to witness the execution, by his father’s order, of the friend and companion who had

shared in his attempted fl ight. Frederick changed as the years passed from a jaunty youth

to an aged cynic, equally undeceived by himself, his friends, or his enemies, and seeing

no reason to expect much from human nature. Though his greatest reputation was made

as a soldier, he retained his literary interests all his life, became a historian of merit, and

is perhaps of all modern monarchs the only one who would have a respectable standing

if considered only as a writer. An unabashed freethinker, like many others of his day, he

considered all religions ridiculous and laughed at the divine right of kings; but he would

have no nonsense about the rights of the house of Brandenburg, and he took a solemn view

of the majesty of the state.

Frederick lost no time in showing a boldness that his father would have surely dreaded.

He decided to conquer Silesia, and in December 1740, he invaded that province, a region

adjoining Prussia, lying in the upper valley of the Oder, and belonging to the kingdom of

Bohemia and hence to the Danubian Empire of the Habsburgs (see map, p. 214, panel 3).

Frederick’s invasion thus violated the Pragmatic Sanction that the Austrian emperor

Charles VI had methodically negotiated throughout his long reign. The Pragmatic Sanc-

tion was the general agreement signed by the European powers, including Prussia, that

had stipulated that all domains of the Austrian Habsburgs should be inherited integrally by

the daughter of Charles VI, Maria Theresa. The issue was between negotiated agreements

and force; and Frederick, in attacking Silesia, could invoke nothing better than “reason of

state,” the welfare and expansion of the state of which he was ruler.

The Pragmatic Sanction was now universally disregarded. All turned against Maria

Theresa. Bavaria and Saxony put in claims. Spain, still hoping to revise the Peace of

Utrecht, saw another chance to win back former Spanish holdings in Italy. The decisive

intervention was that of France, which was torn between ambitions on the European

Frederick II

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Chapter 7 The Global Struggle for Wealth and Empire296

continent and ambitions on the sea and beyond the seas. Economic and commercial advan-

tage might dictate concentration on the transoceanic struggle with Britain. But the French

nobles were less interested than the British aristocrats in commercial considerations. They

were infl uential because they furnished practically all the army offi cers and diplomats.

They saw in Austria the traditional enemy, in Europe the traditional fi eld of valor, and in

Belgium, which now belonged to the Austrians, the traditional object for annexation to

France. Cardinal Fleury, much against his will and judgment, found himself forced into

war against the Habsburgs.

Maria Theresa was at this time a young woman of 23. She proved to

be one of the most capable rulers ever produced by the house of Habsburg.

She bore 16 children, and set a model of conscientious family living at a

time of much indifference to such matters among the upper classes. She was as devout and

as earnest as Frederick of Prussia was irreligious and seemingly fl ip. She dominated her

husband and her grown sons as she did her kingdoms and her duchies. With practical sense

and political talents, she reconstructed her empire without having any doctrinaire program,

and she accomplished more in her methodical way than other rulers who pursued more

spectacular projects of reform.

Soon after Frederick invaded Silesia, she gave birth to her fi rst son, the future emperor

Joseph II, in March 1741. She was preoccupied at the same time by the widening political

crisis. Her dominions were assailed by half a dozen outside powers and her two kingdoms

of Hungary and Bohemia (both of which had accepted the Pragmatic Sanction) were wait-

ing to see which way their advantage lay. Facing these dangers from all directions, she

traveled to Hungary, where she would be crowned with the crown of St. Stephen and rally

essential support. She made a carefully arranged and dramatic appearance before the

Maria Theresa

The young Frederick II of Prussia, who would later be called Frederick the Great, was more interested in music and lit- erature than in the military and political tasks of a monarch—which he neverthe- less pursued boldly after becoming king in 1740. This painting by Antoine Pesne portrays the “Crown Prince” in the year before he inherited the Prussian throne. (Hulton Archive/Getty Images)

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297

Hungarian political elite, implored them to defend her, and swore to uphold the liberties

of the Hungarian nobles and the separate constitution of the kingdom of Hungary. All

Europe told how the young queen, by raising aloft the infant Joseph, who was to be heir to

the throne, at a session of the Hungarian parliament, had thrown the dour Magyars into

paroxysms of chivalrous resolve. The story was not quite true, but it is true that she made

an eloquent address to the Magyars and that she took her baby with her and proudly

exhibited him. The Hungarian magnates pledged their “blood and life” and delivered

100,000 soldiers.

The war, as it worked out in Europe, was reminiscent of the struggles in

the time of Louis XIV, or even of the Thirty Years’ War now a century in the

past. It was, again, a kind of civil struggle within the Holy Roman Empire,

in which a league of German princes banded together against the monarchy

of Vienna. This time the anti-Habsburg forces included the new kingdom of

Prussia. It was, again, a collision of Bourbons and Habsburgs, in which the French pursued

their old policy of maintaining division in Germany by supporting the German princes

against the Habsburgs. The basic aim of French policy, according to instructions given

by the French foreign offi ce to its ambassador in Vienna in 1725, was to keep the empire

divided, preventing the union of German powers into “one and the same body, which would

in fact become formidable to all the other powers of Europe.” This time France had Spain

on its side. Maria Theresa was supported only by Britain and Holland, which subsidized

her fi nancially but had inadequate land forces. The Franco-German-Spanish combination

was highly successful. In 1742 Maria Theresa, hard pressed, accepted the proposals of

Frederick for a separate peace. She temporarily granted him Silesia, and he temporarily

slipped out of the war that he had been the fi rst to enter. In 1745 the French won the battle

of Fontenoy in Belgium, the greatest battle of the war; they dominated Belgium, which nei-

ther the Dutch nor British were able to defend. In the same year they fomented the Jacobite

rebellion in Scotland to weaken or overthrow the British monarch.

But the situation overseas offset the situation in Europe. It was America that tilted the

balance. The French fortress of Louisburg on Cape Breton Island was captured by an expe-

dition of New Englanders in conjunction with the British navy. British warships drove

French and Spanish shipping from the seas. The French West Indies were blockaded. The

French government, in danger of losing the wealth and taxes drawn from

the sugar and slave trades, announced its willingness to negotiate.

Peace was made at Aix-la-Chapelle in 1748. It was based on an Anglo-

French agreement in which Maria Theresa was obliged to concur. Britain

and France arranged their differences by a return to the prewar status quo.

The British returned Louisburg despite the protests of the Americans and relaxed their

stranglehold on the Caribbean. The French returned Madras, which they had captured, and

gave up their hold on Belgium. The Atlantic powers recognized Frederick’s annexation

of Silesia, and Belgium was returned to Maria Theresa at the insistence of Britain and the

Dutch. She and her ministers were very dissatisfi ed. They would infi nitely have preferred

to lose Belgium and keep Silesia. They were required, in the interest of a European or even

intercontinental balance of power, to give up Silesia and to hold Belgium for the benefi t of

the Dutch against the French.

The war had been more decisive than the few readjustments of the map seemed to

show. It proved the weakness of the French position, straddled as it was between Europe

and the overseas world. Maintaining a huge army for use in Europe, the French could not,

like Britain, concentrate upon the sea. On the other hand, because they were vulnerable

Parallels with past

wars

Peace of

Aix-la-Chapelle

34. The Great War of the Mid-Eighteenth Century: The Peace of Paris, 1763

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Chapter 7 The Global Struggle for Wealth and Empire298

on the sea, they could not hold their gains in Europe or control Belgium. The Austrians,

though bitter, had reason for satisfaction. The war had been waged as a campaign to parti-

tion the Habsburg Empire. The Habsburg Empire still stood. Hungary had thrown in its lot

with Vienna, a fact of much subsequent importance. Bohemia, which was almost lost,

remained under Austrian control. In 1745 Maria Theresa got her husband elected Holy

MARIA THERESA AND HER FAMILY by Martin van Meytens (Austrian, 1695–1770)

Maria Theresa had an imposing public image in her dual roles as Queen in the Austrian house of Habsburg and mother in a large household of 16 children. This portrait of the Queen with her husband and many of her children shows her devotion to family life as well as the power she exercised in governing her empire. (Scala/Art Resource, NY)

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299

Roman Emperor as Francis I, a position for which, as a woman, she could not qualify. But

the loss of Silesia was momentous. Silesia was as populous as the Dutch Republic, heavily

German, and industrially the most advanced region east of the Elbe. Prussia by acquiring it

doubled its population and more than doubled its resources. Prussia with Silesia was

unquestionably a great power. Because Austria was still a great power, there were hence-

forth two great powers in the vague world known as “Germany,” a situation that came to

be known as the German dualism. But the transfer of Silesia, which doubled the number of

Germans ruled by the king of Prussia, made the Habsburg Empire less German, more

Slavic and Hungarian, more Danubian and international. Silesia was the keystone of

Germany. Frederick was determined to hold it; Maria Theresa was determined to win it

back. A new war was therefore foreseeable in central Europe. As for Britain and France,

the peace of Aix-la-Chapelle was clearly only a truce.

The next years passed in a busy diplomacy, leading to what is known

as the “reversal of alliances” and the Diplomatic Revolution of 1756. The

Austrians set themselves to checking the growth of Prussia. Maria Theresa’s

foreign minister, Count Kaunitz, perhaps the most artful diplomat of the

century, concluded that the rise of Prussia had revolutionized the balance

of power. Kaunitz, dramatically reversing traditional policy, proposed an alliance between

Austria and France—between the Habsburgs and the Bourbons. He encouraged the long-

standing French aspirations for Belgium in return for French support in the destruction

of Prussia. The overtures between Austria and France obliged Britain, Austria’s former

ally, to reconsider its position in Europe; the British had Hanover to protect and were

favorably impressed by the Prussian army. An alliance of Great Britain and Prussia was

concluded in January 1756. Meanwhile Kaunitz consummated his alliance with France.

One consequence was to marry the future Louis XVI to one of Maria Theresa’s daughters,

Marie Antoinette, the “Austrian woman” of French Revolutionary fame. The Austrian alli-

ance was never popular in France. Some French thought that the ruin of Prussia would

only enhance the Austrian control of Germany and so undo the fundamental “Westphalia

system.” The French progressive thinkers, known as “philosophes,” believed Austria to be

priest-ridden and backward and were for ideological reasons admirers of the freethinking

Frederick II. Dissatisfaction with its foreign policy was one reason for the growth of inter-

nal opposition to the Bourbon government.

In any case, when the Seven Years’ War broke out in 1756, though it was a continu-

ation of the preceding war in that Prussia fought Austria, and Britain fought France, the

belligerents had all changed partners. Great Britain and Prussia were now allies, as were,

more remarkably, the Bourbons and the Habsburgs. In addition, Austria had concluded a

treaty with the Russian Empire for the annihilation of Prussia.

The Seven Years’ War, 1756–1763: In Europe and America

Although the Seven Years’ War began in America, let us turn fi rst to Europe, where the war

was another war of territorial “partition.” As a league of powers had but recently attempted

to partition the empire of Maria Theresa, and a generation before had in fact partitioned the

empires of Sweden and Spain, so now Austria, Russia, and France set out to partition the

newly created kingdom of Prussia. Their aim was to relegate the Hohenzollerns to the ter-

ritory of Brandenburg. Even with Silesia, Prussia had less than 6,000,000 people; each of

its three principal enemies had 20,000,000 or more. But war was less an affair of peoples

than of states and standing armies, and the Prussian state and Prussian army were the most

The Diplomatic

Revolution of 1756

34. The Great War of the Mid-Eighteenth Century: The Peace of Paris, 1763

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Chapter 7 The Global Struggle for Wealth and Empire300

effi cient in Europe. Frederick fought brilliant campaigns, moved rapidly

along interior lines, and eluded, surprised, and reattacked the badly coordi-

nated armies opposed to him. He proved himself the great military genius

of his day. But genius was scarcely enough. Against three such powers,

reinforced by Sweden and the German states, and with no ally except Great

Britain (and Hanover) whose aid was almost entirely fi nancial, the kingdom of Prussia

by any reasonable estimate had no chance of survival. There were times when Frederick

believed all to be lost, yet he went on fi ghting, and his strength of character in these years

of adversity, as much as his ultimate triumph, later made him a hero and symbol for the

Germans. His subjects, Junkers and even serfs, advanced in patriotic spirit under exter-

nal pressure. The coalition tended to fall apart. The French lacked enthusiasm; they were

fi ghting Britain, the Austrian alliance was unpopular, and Kaunitz would never plainly

promise them Belgium. The Russians found that the more they moved westward the more

they alarmed their Austrian allies. Frederick was left to deal only with the implacable

Austrians, for whom he was more than a match. By the peace of Hubertusburg in 1763 not

only did he lose nothing but he also retained Silesia.

Schönbrunn Palace, near Vienna, was the great palace of the Austrian Habsburgs. It was planned to compete with the vast palace of their French Bourbon rivals, but the plan was never completed because Maria Theresa (1740–1780) thought that the building seen here was adequate for her needs. (De Agostini/Getty Images)

Frederick’s military

triumphs

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301

For the rest, the Seven Years’ War was a phase in the long dispute

between France and Great Britain. Its stakes were supremacy in the grow-

ing world economy, control of colonies, and command of the sea. The two

empires had been left unchanged in 1748 by the peace of Aix-la-Chapelle.

Both held possessions in India, in the West Indies, and on the American

mainland (see maps, pp. 192, 307). In India both British and French possessed only discon-

nected commercial establishments on the coast, infi nitesimal specks on the giant body of

India. Both also traded with the Chinese along the Pearl River Delta in South China. Both

occupied colonial way stations on the route to Asia—the British in St. Helena and Ascen-

sion Island in the south Atlantic, the French in the more valuable islands of Mauritius and

Reunion in the Indian Ocean. The French were active also on the coasts of Madagascar.

The greatest way station, the Cape of Good Hope, belonged to the Dutch. In the West

Indies the British plantations were mainly in Jamaica, Barbados, and some of the Leeward

Islands; the French, in Saint-Domingue, Guadeloupe, and Martinique. All were supported

by the booming Atlantic slave trade that was transporting millions of enslaved people

from Africa.

On the American mainland the French had more territory and the British had more

people. In the British colonies from Georgia to Nova Scotia lived perhaps 2 million

Europeans, predominantly English but with strong infusions of Scots-Irish, Dutch, Germans,

French, and Swedes. Philadelphia, with some 40,000 people, was as large as any city in

England except London. Native Americans were decimated by disease or driven out of most

Atlantic coastal lands. But the population in these areas continued to grow, in part because

of the expanding slave trade. About 275,000 enslaved Africans arrived in Britain’s North

American colonies before 1775, and by the late eighteenth century the African American

population in these mainland territories had increased to more than 700,000 people. Mean-

while, the number of Europeans grew to be almost a quarter as large as the population in the

mother country. The European Americans, however, were provincial, locally minded, and

incapable of concerted action. In 1754 the British government called a congress at Albany

in New York, hoping that the colonies would assume some collective responsibility for

the coming war. The congress adopted an “Albany plan of union” drawn up by Benjamin

Franklin, but the colonial legislatures declined to accept it, through fear of losing their sepa-

rate identity. The colonials were willing, in a politically immature way, to rely on Britain for

military action against France.

CHRONOLOGY OF NOTABLE EVENTS, 1619–1763

1619 First enslaved Africans arrive in Virginia

1700–1780 Expansion of European plantation system in Caribbean “Sugar Islands”

1720 The “Mississippi Bubble” in France and “South Sea Bubble” in Britain

1740–1748 War of Austrian Succession in Europe

1740–1780 Queen Maria Theresa rules and expands the Austrian Empire

1740–1786 Frederick II (the Great) rules and expands the kingdom of Prussia

1756–1763 The Seven Years’ War; expansion of British power in India and America

34. The Great War of the Mid-Eighteenth Century: The Peace of Paris, 1763

British and French

colonial interests

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Chapter 7 The Global Struggle for Wealth and Empire302

The French were still in possession of Louisburg on Cape Breton Island, a northern

stronghold established by Louis XIV, located in the Gulf of St. Lawrence. It was designed

for naval domination of the north Atlantic and to control access to the St. Lawrence River,

the Great Lakes, and the vast region now called the Middle West. Through all this tract of

country the French constantly came and went, but there were sizable French settlements

only around New Orleans in the south and Quebec in the north. One source of French

strength was that the French were more successful than the British in gaining the support

of the Indians. This was probably because the French, being few in numbers, did not

threaten to expropriate their lands and also because Catholics at this time were incompara-

bly more active than Protestants in Christian missions among non-European peoples. The

French were also active in the fur trade with Native Americans, an economic exchange that

added important commercial components to French-Indian relations.

Both empires, French and British, were held together by mercantilist

regulations framed mainly in the interest of the home countries. In some

ways the British Empire was more liberal than the French; it allowed local

self-government and permitted immigration from all parts of Europe. In

other ways the British system was stricter. British subjects, for example,

were required by the Navigation Acts to use British ships and seamen—English, Scottish,

or colonial—whereas the French were freer to use the transport services of other nations.

British sugar planters had to ship raw sugar to the home country, there to be refi ned and sold

to Europe, whereas French planters were free to refi ne their sugar in the Caribbean islands.

The mainland British colonials were forbidden to manufacture ironware and numerous

other articles for sale; they were expected to buy such objects from England. Because the

British sold little to the West Indies, where the slave population had no income with which

to buy, the mainland colonies, though less valued as a source of wealth, were a far more

important market for British goods. The North American colonials had prospered under

the restrictive system, but they were beginning to fi nd much of it irksome at the time of the

Seven Years’ War, and indeed evaded it when they could.

Fighting was endemic in the empires, even during years of peace in Europe. Nova

Scotia was a trouble spot. French in population, it had been annexed by Britain at the Peace

of Utrecht. Its proximity to Louisburg made it a scene of perpetual agitation. The British

government in 1755, foreseeing war with France, bodily removed about 7,000 of the mostly

French-speaking inhabitants of Acadia, originally a French colony and part of Nova Scotia.

Although they were dispersed throughout Britain’s North American colonies, some of these

displaced people eventually migrated to Louisiana and preserved a distinctive identity in the

French Cajun culture that developed there. But the great disputed area was the Alleghenies.

British colonials were beginning to fi nd their way westward through the mountains. French

traders, soldiers, and empire builders were moving eastward toward the same mountains

from points on the Mississippi and the Great Lakes. In 1749, at the request of Virginia and

London capitalists, the British government chartered a land-exploitation company, the Ohio

Company, to operate in territory claimed also by the French. The French built a fort at the

point where the Ohio River is formed by the junction of two smaller rivers—Fort Duquesne,

later called Pittsburgh. A force of colonials and British regular troops, commanded by Gen-

eral Braddock and colonial offi cers such as the young George Washington, started through

the wilderness to dislodge the French. It was defeated in July 1755, but this frontier confron-

tation soon led to wider confl icts. A year later France and Britain declared war.

The British were brilliantly led by William Pitt, subsequently the Earl of Chatham,

a man of wide vision and exceptional confi dence. “I know that I can save the country,”

Mercantilist

regulations

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303

he said, “and I know that no one else can.” He concentrated British effort on the navy and

colonies, while subsidizing Frederick of Prussia to fi ght in Europe, so that England, as he

put it, might win an empire on the plains of Germany. Only the enormous fi nancial credit of

the British government made such a policy feasible. In 1758 British forces fi nally took Fort

Duquesne, and Louisburg fell again in the same year. Gaining entry to the St. Lawrence,

the British moved upstream to Quebec, and in 1759 a force under General Wolfe, stealth-

ily scaling the heights, appeared by surprise on the Plains of Abraham outside the fortress,

forcing the garrison to accept a battle, which the British won. With the fall of Quebec no

further French resistance was possible on the American mainland. The British also, with

superior naval power, occupied Guadeloupe and Martinique in the Caribbean and French

slavetrading outposts in Africa.

The Seven Years’ War, 1756–1763: In India

Both British and French interests meanwhile profi ted from disturbed conditions in India. As

large as Europe without Russia, India was a congested country of impoverished masses,

speaking hundreds of languages and following many religions and subreligions, the two

greatest being the Hindu and the Muslim. Waves of invasion through the northwest frontier

since 1001 C.E. had produced a Muslim Empire, whose capital was at Delhi and which for

a time held jurisdiction over most of the country. These Muslim emperors were known as

Great Moguls. The greatest was Akbar, who ruled from 1556 to 1605, built roads, reformed

the taxes, patronized the arts, and attempted to minimize religious differences among his

peoples. The Muslim artistic culture fl ourished for a time after Akbar. One of his succes-

sors, Shah Jehan (1628–1658), built the beautiful Taj Mahal near Agra and at Delhi built the

delicately carved alabaster palace of the Moguls, in which he placed the Pea-

cock Throne made of solid gold and studded with gems.

But meanwhile there was restlessness among the Hindus. The Sikhs,

who had originated in the fi fteenth century as a reform movement in Hin-

duism, went to war with the Mogul emperor in the seventeenth century.

They became one of the most ferociously warlike of Indian peoples. Hindu

princes in central India meanwhile formed a “Mahratta confederacy”

against the Muslim emperor at Delhi. Matters were made worse when Aurungzeb, the last

signifi cant Mogul emperor (1658–1707), adopted repressive measures against the Hindus.

After Aurungzeb, India fell into a political dissolution that made the country vulnerable to

both internal rebellions and new interventions from the increasingly assertive Europeans.

Many of the modern princely states originated or became autonomous at this time. Hindu

princes rebelled against the Mogul. Muslims, beginning as governors or commanders

under the Mogul, set up as rulers in their own right. Thus originated Hyderabad, which

included the fabulous diamond mines of Golconda and whose ruler long was called the

wealthiest man in the world. Princes and would-be princes fought with each other and with

the emperor.

The situation in India resembled, on a larger and more multicultural scale, what had

happened in Europe in the Holy Roman Empire, where irreconcilable religious differences

(of Catholics and Protestants) had also torn the country asunder, ambitious princes and

city-states had won a chaotic independence, and foreign armies appeared repeatedly as

invaders. India, like central Europe, suffered chronically from war, intrigue, and rival pre-

tensions to territory; and in India, as in the Holy Roman Empire, outsiders and ambitious

insiders benefi ted together.

Religious and

political upheaval in

India

34. The Great War of the Mid-Eighteenth Century: The Peace of Paris, 1763

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Chapter 7 The Global Struggle for Wealth and Empire304

The instability and violence in the interior had signifi cant repercussions on the Indian

coasts. Here handfuls of Europeans were established in the coastal cities. By the troubles

in the interior the Indian authorities along the coasts were reduced, so to speak, to a size

and power with which the Europeans could deal. The Europeans—British and French—

were agents of their respective East India companies. These companies built forts, main-

tained soldiers, coined money, and entered into treaties with surrounding Indian powers,

under charter of their home governments and with no one to deny them the exercise of

such sovereign rights or political autonomy. Agents of the companies, like Indians them-

selves, ignored or respected the Mogul emperor as suited their own purpose. They were, at

fi rst, only one of the many contending forces in the fl ux and refl ux of Indian affairs. Their

presence in India showed the international reach of European companies, the worldwide

competition between British and French interests, and the growing importance of India in

the global economic system.

Neither the British nor the French government, during the Seven Years’

War, had any intention of territorial conquest in India, their policy in this

respect differing radically from their colonial ambitions in America. Nor

were the two trading companies pushing their agents toward imperialistic

Intentions of the

British and the

French

The battle of Quebec, depicted here in an English illustration of the British army’s surprise approach to the Plains of Abraham, allowed Britain to gain control over most of North America and to increase its power in the expanding, global system of eighteenth-century trade. (The Bridgeman Art Library)

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305

political interventions in South Asia. The company directors in London and Paris disap-

proved of fantastic schemes to intervene in Indian politics, insisted that their agents should

attend to business only, and resented every penny and every sou not spent to bring in

commercial profi t. But it took a year or more to exchange messages between Europe and

India, and company representatives in India, caught up in the Indian power struggles and

overcome by the chance to make personal fortunes or by dreams of empire, acted very

much on their own, committing their home offi ces without compunction. Involvement in

Indian affairs was not exactly new. We have seen how “Diamond” Pitt, in 1702, purchased

the goodwill of the local ruler of the Carnatic when he had threatened by military force to

reduce the English traders at Madras to submission.

The fi rst European to exploit the possibilities of the changing situation in mid-eighteenth-

century India was the Frenchman Joseph-François Dupleix, who believed that the funds

sent out by the company in Paris to fi nance the Indian trade were insuffi cient. His idea seems

to have been not empire-building but to make the company into a local territorial power in

order that, from taxes and other political revenues, it might have more capital for its commer-

cial operations. In any case, during the years of peace in Europe after 1748, Dupleix found

himself with about 2,000 French troops in the Carnatic. He lent them out to neighboring local

rulers in return for territorial concessions. He also began to drill Indian soldiers by European

methods, thereby creating the fi rst regiments of “sepoys”—Indian troops who served in the

military forces of the European companies. Following a program of backing claimants to

various Indian thrones, he built up a clientele of local rulers who now had specifi c obligations

to Dupleix himself. He was very successful, for a small number of well-armed European

troops or sepoys could overcome much larger, poorly armed Indian forces in pitched battle.

But he was recalled to France in 1754, after his company became apprehensive of war with

Britain and other trouble; and he died in disgrace.

When war came in 1756, British interests in India were advanced

chiefl y by Robert Clive. He had come to India many years before as a clerk

for the East India Company but had shown military talents and an ability

to comprehend Indian politics. He had maneuvered, with little success, against Dupleix

in the Carnatic during the 1740s. In 1756, on hearing the news of war in Europe, Clive

shifted his attention to Bengal, hoping to drive the French from their trading stations there.

The French were favored in Bengal by the local Muslim ruler, Suraja Dowla, who pro-

ceeded to anticipate Clive’s arrival by expelling the British from Calcutta (the city now

called Kolkata). Capturing the city, he shut up 146 Englishmen in a small room without

windows—soon known in England as the “Black Hole of Calcutta”—and kept them there

all night, during which most of them died of suffocation. Clive, soon arriving with a small

force of British and sepoys, routed Suraja Dowla at the battle of Plassey in 1757. He put his

own puppet on the Bengal throne and extorted huge reparations both for the company and

for himself. Returning to England, he was received with mixed feelings; but he was given

a new title (Baron Clive of Passy) and appointed the “governor” of Bengal. He strove in

India to reduce the almost incredible corruption of company employees there, individuals

who abandoned virtually all moral scruples to pursue irresistible chances for easy riches.

Finally he committed suicide in 1774.

It was British sea power, more fundamentally than Clive’s tactics, that assured the

triumph of British over French ambitions in South Asia. The British government still had

no intention of conquest in India, but it could not see its East India Company forced out

by agents of the French company in collaboration with Indian princes. Naval forces were

therefore dispatched to the Indian Ocean; and it was the British navy that made it possible

Robert Clive

34. The Great War of the Mid-Eighteenth Century: The Peace of Paris, 1763

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Chapter 7 The Global Struggle for Wealth and Empire306

for Clive to move quickly from Chennai to Kolkata. British ships also cut off the French

posts in India from Europe and from each other. By the end of the war all the French estab-

lishments in India, as in Africa and America, were at the mercy of the British. The French

overseas colonies lay prostrate, and France itself was again detached from the transoceanic

trade on which much of its commercial economy rested. In 1761 France made an alliance

with Spain, which was alarmed for the safety of its own American Empire after the British

victories at Quebec and in the Caribbean. But the British also defeated Spain.

The Peace Settlement of 1763

The British armed forces had been spectacularly successful. Yet the peace treaty, signed at

Paris in February 1763, fi ve days before the Austro-Prussian peace of Hubertusburg, was

by no means unfavorable to the defeated. The French Duke of Choiseul was a skillful and

single-minded negotiator. The British, Pitt having fallen from offi ce in 1761, were represented

Britain’s imperial role in late eighteenth-century India is represented in this Indian miniature of a British offi cer’s wife surrounded by Indian servants. The social hierarchies within the growing empire appear in this scene of domestic order and wealth, which dates from about 1785. (Werner Forman Archive/Art Resource, NY)

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307

by a confused group of parliamentary favorites of the new king, George III.

France ceded to Britain all French territory on the North American mainland

east of the Mississippi. Canada thereby became British, and the colonials

of the thirteen colonies were relieved of the French presence beyond the Alleghenies. To

Spain, in return for aid in the last days of the war, France ceded all holdings west of the

Mississippi and at its mouth, including New Orleans. France thereby virtually abandoned

the North American continent. But these regions were still of minor commercial importance

for European trading companies, and the French, in return for surrendering them, retained

many economically more valuable establishments elsewhere. In the West Indies the British

planters, and in England the powerful “West India interest,” feared competition from the

French sugar islands and wanted to exclude them from the protected economic system of

the British Empire. France therefore received back Guadeloupe and Martinique, as well as

French concessions

THE WORLD IN 1763 At the Peace of Paris of 1763 the British overseas empire trimphed over the French. The French ceded their holdings on the North American mainland east of the Mississippi to Britain, those west of the Mississippi to Spain. Britain also took Florida from Spain in 1763, but lost it, returning it to Spain in 1783, at the close of the War of American Independence. The French retained their sugar islands in the West Indies and their trading stations in India; they were stopped from empire-building but did not greatly suffer commercially from the Seven Years’ War. The British proceeded to build their empire in India.

Spanish Empire

Portuguese Empire

French Empire

British Empire

Dutch Empire

Ottoman Empire

Russian Empire

ATLANTIC OCEAN

PACIFIC OCEAN

Hudson Bay

PACIFIC OCEAN

INDIAN OCEAN

NORTH AMERICA

SOUTH AMERICA

A F R I C A

A S I A

PHILIPPINES (Spain)

CHINA

PERU

PORTUGAL SPAIN

FRANCE

GREAT BRITAIN

SWEDEN

R U S S I A

INDIA

ICELAND

DUTCH EAST INDIES

ALASKA

GUIANA (Dutch & French)

FLORIDA (Britain, 1763–1783)

GREENLAND

GUINEAEU

ROPEAN SLAVE TR

A D

IN G

ST A

TIO N

S

ASCENSION (Britain)

ST. HELENA (Britain)

REU NIO

N

(Fra nc

e)

BENGAL (Britain)

CEYLON (Dutch)

PERSIA

AUST. HUN.

POLANDH.R.E.

DEN.

NETHERLANDS

MEXICO

MAURITIUS (France)

J A P A

N

Canton

Ft. Duquesne

Louisburg

Dakar (France)

Cape Town (Dutch)

Tobolsk Tomsk

Irkutsk

Yakutsk

EAST INDIA

British Sphere, 1763

CEYLON (Dutch)

INDIA

Brahmaputra R.Ganges R.

H I M A L A Y A S

Bay of Bengal

Su tle

j R .

Arabian Sea CA R

N A

TI C

Delhi

Bombay (Britain)

Goa (Portugal)

Pondicherry (France) Madras (Britain)

Hyderabad

Calcutta (Britain)

Chandernagor (France)

Agra Plassey

CUBA (Spain)

JAMAICA (Britain)

SA NT

O D OM

ING O (F

rance )

HIS PA

NIO LA (

Spain )

PU ERT

O R ICO

(Spain )

GUADALOUPE (France) MARTINIQUE

(France)

BARBADOS (Britain)

TRINIDAD (Britain)

CURACAO (Dutch)

CARIBBEAN SEA

VENEZUELA (Spain)

WEST INDIA

34. The Great War of the Mid-Eighteenth Century: The Peace of Paris, 1763

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Chapter 7 The Global Struggle for Wealth and Empire308

most of its slavetrading stations in Africa; and the French still controlled the highly lucrative

sugar plantations in Saint-Domingue (Santo Domingo). In India, the French remained

in possession of their commercial installations—offi ces, warehouses, and docks—at

Pondicherry (now Puducherry) and other cities. They were forbidden to erect fortifi cations

or pursue political ambitions among Indian princes—a practice which neither the French

nor the British government had hitherto much favored in any case.

The treaties of Paris and Hubertusburg, closing the prolonged war of the midcentury,

made the year 1763 a memorable turning point. Prussia confi rmed its status as an emerg-

ing major power, which meant that the dualism of Germany would continue. Austria and

Prussia eyed each other as rivals. Frederick’s aggressive occupation of Silesia in 1740

was legalized and even given a new moral status in Prussia by the heroic defense that had

proved necessary to retain the plunder. Frederick himself, from 1763 until his death in

1786, was a man of peace, philosophical and even benign. But the German crucible had

boiled, and out of it had come a Prussia even more disposed by its escape from annihilation

to glorify its army as the steel framework of its life.

The Anglo-French settlement was far-reaching and rather curious. Although the

British won decisive victories everywhere in the global war, it resulted in no commercial

calamity for France. French trade with America and the East grew as rapidly after the Seven

Years’ War as before it, and by 1785 it was double what it had been in 1755. For England

the war also opened up new commercial channels. British trade with America and the East

probably tripled between 1755 and 1785. But the outstanding British gains were imperial

and strategic. The European balance of power was preserved, the French had been kept out

of Belgium, British colonial subjects in North America seemed secure, and Britain had

again vindicated its command of the sea. British sea power implied, in turn, that British sea-

borne commerce was safe in peace or war, while the seaborne commerce for the French, or

of any others, depended ultimately on the political requirements of the British. But the

French still had a few cards to play, and they would soon play them in the American

and French revolutions.

For America and India the peace of 1763 was decisive in pushing the peoples of these

two vast territories toward closer connections with the political and commercial institu-

tions of the British Empire. America north of Mexico was to become part

of an English-speaking world. In India the British government was drawn

increasingly into a policy of territorial occupation; a British “paramount

power” eventually emerged in place of the empire of the Moguls. British

political rule in India stimulated and protected British business there, until

in the greatest days of British prosperity India was one of the main pillars of the British

economic system, and the road to India became in a real sense the lifeline of the British

empire. But in 1763 this state of affairs was still in the future and was to be reached by

many intermediate steps.

Repercussions of the

settlement

For suggested further readings and useful Web sites, interactive exercises, glossary, chronologies,

and more, go to the Online Learning Center at www.mhhe.com/palmerhistory11e.

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309

C h a p t e r 8 THE AGE

OF ENLIGHTENMENT

The eighteenth century,   or at least the years of that century preceding the French Revolution of

1789, is commonly known in European history as

the Age of Enlightenment. This broad term may sim-

plify or distort the era’s complex currents of cultural

and political change, but no other name describes so

many features of the time so well. People strongly

felt that theirs was an enlightened age, and it is from

their own evaluation of themselves that our term Age

of Enlightenment is derived. Everywhere there was

a feeling that Europeans had at last emerged from a

long twilight. The past was generally regarded as a

time of barbarism or darkness in which people knew

much less about the laws of nature and the value of

rational analysis. The sense of progress was all but

universal among the educated classes. It was the belief both of the forward-looking thinkers

and writers known as the philosophes and of the forward-looking monarchs, the “enlight-

ened despots,” together with their ministers and offi cials.

The leading ideas of the Enlightenment—optimistic beliefs in the historical advance

of reason, science, education, social reform, tolerance, and enlightened government—

have been constant themes in the modern world. The Enlightenment, in short, remains

a dynamic tradition in cultural and political life. Intellectual debates since the eighteenth

century have almost always returned, explicitly or implicitly, to questions about the valid-

ity and legacy of Enlightenment conceptions of truth, knowledge, and progress. The

Enlightenment has often been challenged or condemned by infl uential cultural movements

(for example, romanticism, postmodernism, religious revivals) and by modern political

ideologies (for example, fascism, ethnic nationalisms). Yet the vehemence of its modern

critics confi rms the Enlightenment’s exceptional, enduring importance in the cultures and

politics of modern societies.

35. The Philosophes—

and Others

36. Enlightened Despotism:

France, Austria, Prussia

37. Enlightened Despotism:

Russia

38. The Partitions of Poland

39. New Stirrings: The British

Reform Movement

40. The American Revolution

Chapter emblem: Detail from a portrait of Jean-Jacques Rousseau by Allan Ramsay (1713–1784).

(Bridgeman-Giraudon/Art Resource, NY)

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Chapter 8 The Age of Enlightenment310

Eighteenth-century critiques of existing regimes and cultural traditions drew increas-

ingly on the ideas of the Enlightenment; indeed, such ideas were contributing by the end

of the century to explosive political revolutions in America and Europe. In later centuries,

Enlightenment ideas continued to generate opposition to unpopular governments or domi-

nant cultural ideologies or hierarchical social systems, but the Enlightenment was also

condemned in many cultures. For its advocates and critics alike, however, the “Age of

Enlightenment” has always represented a decisive historical moment and cultural force in

the development of “modernity.”

35. THE PHILOSOPHES—AND OTHERS

The Spirit of Progress and Improvement

The spirit of the eighteenth-century Enlightenment was drawn from the scientifi c and intel-

lectual revolution of the seventeenth century. The Enlightenment carried over and popular-

ized the ideas of Bacon and Descartes, of Bayle and Spinoza, and, above all, of Locke and

Newton. It carried over the philosophy of natural law and of natural right. There had never

been an age in which Europeans were so skeptical toward tradition, so confi dent in the

powers of human reason and of science, so fi rmly convinced of the regularity and harmony

of nature, and so deeply imbued with the sense of civilization’s advance

and progress.

The idea of progress has often been described as the dominant or char-

acteristic idea of European civilization in the modern era, or since the late

seventeenth century. It is a belief, a kind of nonreligious faith, that the conditions of human

life become better as time goes on, that in general each generation is better off than its pre-

decessors and will contribute by its labor to an even better life for generations to come,

and that in the long run all humankind will share in the same advance. All the elements of

this belief had been present by 1700. It was after 1700, however, that the idea of progress

became explicit. In the seventeenth century it had shown itself in a more rudimentary way

in the sporadic intellectual dispute in England and France known as the quarrel of Ancients

and Moderns (which, as noted earlier, also became part of the challenge to offi cial the-

orists in Louis XIV’s academies). The Ancients held that the works of the Greeks and

Romans had never been surpassed. The Moderns, pointing to science, art, literature, and

invention, declared that their own time was the best, that it was natural for people of their

time to do better than the ancients because they came later and built upon their predeces-

sors’ achievements. The quarrel was never exactly settled, but a great many people in 1700

were Moderns.

Far-reaching also was the faith of the age in the natural faculties of the human mind.

Extreme skepticism, but not a skeptical outlook, was rejected. Educated persons in the

eighteenth century were less likely to be superstitious, terrifi ed by the unknown, or addicted

to magic. The witchcraft mania abruptly died. Indeed all sense of the supernatural became

dim for many Europeans. “Modern” people not only ceased to fear the devil but also to fear

God. They thought of God less as a Father than as a First Cause of the physical universe.

There was less sense of a personal God, or of the inscrutable imminence of divine Provi-

dence, or of the human need for saving grace. God was less the God of Love than the

inconceivably intelligent Being who had made the amazing universe now discovered by

human reason. The great symbol of the Christian God was the Cross, on which a divine

being had suffered in human form. The symbol of divinity that occurred to people of

Faith in progress

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31135. The Philosophes—and Others

scientifi c view was the Watchmaker. The intricacies of the physical universe were com-

pared to the intricacies of a watch, and it was argued that just as a watch could not exist

without a watchmaker, so the universe as discovered by Newton could not exist without a

God who created it and set it moving by its mathematical laws. It was almighty intelli-

gence that was thought divine.

Of course not everyone was primarily moved by such ideas. The fi rst

half of the eighteenth century was in fact also a time of continuing religious

fervor, and new religious movements attracted deeply committed adherents

throughout the whole century. Isaac Watts wrote many hymns that are still

familiar in English-speaking churches; the great church music of J. S. Bach was composed

mainly in the 1720s; Handel’s oratorio, The Messiah, was fi rst performed in 1741; and it was at about this time that congregations fi rst sang the Adeste fi deles (“O Come, All Ye Faithful”), originally Catholic in inspiration but soon adopted by Protestants also. The

Lutherans of Germany were stirred by the movement known as Pietism, which stressed the

inner spiritual experience of ordinary persons as distinct from the doctrines taught and

debated in theological faculties. The quest for an “inner light,” or illumination of the soul

rather than of the reason, was somewhat contrary to the main thrust of the Age of Enlight-

enment, and a religious urge for improvement of the individual rather than of social institu-

tions was hardly central to the ideas of the age, but such ideas were by no means merely

conservative, for they were in general highly critical of the existing order.

Within the Church of England John Wesley, while a student at Oxford,

joined a group of like-minded young men for prayer and meditation. They

engaged in good works to relieve the sufferings of prisoners and the poor, to

whom they distributed food and clothing, while also teaching them how to

read. Going outside the restrictive system of parishes, Wesley and others took to “itinerant”

preaching, often to immense crowds in open fi elds. Wesley is said to have traveled

250,000 miles within Great Britain over a period of 50 years. He and George Whitfi eld,

who shared his views, preached also in the English American colonies, where they helped

to arouse the Great Awakening of the 1740s. Such movements had a democratizing effect

in stressing individual worth and spiritual consciousness independently of the established

religious authorities. Indeed, the spokesmen for older churches dismissed such movements

as “enthusiasm,” which was then a word of reproach. By the time he died in 1791, Wesley

had about half a million followers in what were called Methodist societies. Wesley himself

tried to keep them within the Church of England, but separate Methodist churches were

already founded in England and the United States.

In a way these expressions of religious feeling refl ected differences between the popu-

lar and elite cultures that have already been described. While some of the elite joined in

the new movements, it was on the whole the less comfortable social classes who did so.

The offi cial churches, Anglican, Lutheran, Catholic, did not wish to be disturbed by reli-

gious revivalism. Bishops were cultivated gentlemen of the age. But the most vehement

intellectual leaders pushed churches and theological traditions aside as they promoted the

progressive uses of human reason.

The science and new learning in this “age of reason,” however, did not end the popular

interest in magic or mystifi cation. A Swiss pastor, J. C. Lavater, attracted attention with his

supposed science of “physiognomy,” by which a person’s character could be read in the

play of the facial features. An Austrian physician, F. A. Mesmer, created a stir in Paris by

arranging séances where people were touched by a wand, or sat in tubs, to receive “animal

magnetism” in the hope of curing various ills. His “mesmerism” was an early stage in the

Religious fervor and

Pietism

John Wesley and

Methodism

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Chapter 8 The Age of Enlightenment312

discovery of hypnosis, but it is signifi cant that a committee of the Royal Academy of

Sciences, after investigation, concluded that Mesmer’s own theories to explain these strange

phenomena were without foundation.

More in the mainstream of the new intellectual culture was Freema-

sonry, which took form in England and soon spread to the Continent. The

Masons were generally persons who held typical Enlightenment views, well

disposed toward reason, progress, toleration, and humane reforms, and respectful toward

God as architect of the universe; but they met secretly in lodges, in an atmosphere of mys-

terious rituals and occult knowledge. Men of all walks of life, nobles, clergy, and middle

classes, belonged to the lodges (a few also allowed women to join). Freemasonry thus had

the effect of bringing persons of different social classes together, somewhat harmlessly for

self-improvement and the improvement of others. It aroused suspicion, however, because

of its secrecy; and a small deviant offshoot, the Illuminati of south Germany, was consid-

ered so dangerous that the Bavarian government suppressed it in 1786. There were later

some who insisted that the French Revolution had been caused by a conspiracy of Illuminati,

philosophes, and other clandestine plotters, but this idea was never any more than the belief

of a few frightened conservative critics. The word Illuminati meant “the enlightened ones,” but the notion of secrecy was foreign to the Enlightenment, which relied above all else on

publicity and the reading public.

The Philosophes

Philosophe is simply French for philosopher, but to be “philosophical” in the eighteenth century meant to approach any subject in a critical and inquiring spirit. The French word

is used in English to denote a group of writers who were not philosophers in the sense of

treating ultimate questions of knowledge or existence. They were social or literary crit-

ics, popularizers, and publicists. Most philosophes were men, but many women also

participated in Enlightenment culture. The French writer Emilie du Châtelet, for exam-

ple, translated Newton and explained the signifi cance of the new theories in her scientifi c

essays. Though often learned, the philosophes wrote to gain attention, and it was through

the philosophes that the ideas of the Enlightenment spread. Formerly authors had gener-

ally been persons of leisure, or talented protégés of aristocratic or royal patrons, or pro-

fessors or clerics supported by the income from religious foundations. In the Age of

Enlightenment a great many were freelancers, grub-streeters, or journalists. They wrote

for “the publick.”

The reading public had greatly expanded; by the 1780s in France, liter-

acy rates had risen to 47 percent among men and 27 percent among women.

The educated middle class, commercial and professional, was much larger

than ever before. Women readers formed a growing audience for novels and literary jour-

nals, country gentlemen sought new scientifi c advice on agriculture, and even noblemen

wished to keep informed. Newspapers and magazines multiplied, and people who could

not read them at home could read them in coffeehouses or in reading rooms organized for

that purpose. There was a great demand also for dictionaries, encyclopedias, and surveys of

all fi elds of knowledge. The new readers wanted matters made interesting and clear. They

appreciated wit and lightness of touch. From such a public, literature itself greatly benefi ted.

The style of the eighteenth century became admirably fl uent, clear, and exact, neither

ponderous on the one hand nor frothy on the other. Such writings attracted new readers in

every country, from the interior of Europe to the America of Benjamin Franklin. People

Freemasonry

The reading public

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313

began to talk of “public opinion” as a kind of critical tribunal that judged the signifi cance

of new books and established or destroyed the reputations of ambitious authors. This new

public opinion, the French writer Malesherbes explained, was an independent social force

“that all powers respect, that appreciates all talents, that pronounces on all people of merit.”

Critical reviews of literature, art, and music provoked debates in newspapers, journals, and

coffeehouses, all of which contributed to an expanding public sphere beyond the personal

world of private households and outside the offi cial world of government institutions. The

bourgeois middle class was becoming not only educated but also thoughtful and critical.

But the expanding public sphere was not limited to the ideas or cultural preoccupations of

a single social class.

The writings of the day were nevertheless affected by social conditions

and by the cultural context that constrained their publication. They were all

written under censorship. The theory of censorship was to protect people

from harmful ideas as they were protected from shoddy merchandise or

dishonest weights and measures. In England the censorship was so mild as to have little

effect. Other countries, such as Spain, had a powerful censorship. France, the center of the

Enlightenment, had both a complicated censorship and a large reading and writing public.

The church, the Parlement of Paris, the royal offi cials, and the printers’ guilds all had a

hand in the censoring of books. French censorship, however, was loosely administered,

and after 1750 writers were little disturbed by it. It cannot be compared to the repressive

censorship of more recent authoritarian governments. Yet in one way it had an unfavorable

effect on French thought and letters. It discouraged writers from openly or explicitly

addressing concrete public questions. Legally forbidden to criticize church or state, they

threw their criticisms on a more abstract level. Barred from attacking matters in particular,

they tended to attack matters in general. Or they talked of the customs of the Persians and

the Iroquois but not the French. Their works became full of double meanings, sly digs,

innuendoes, and jokes by which authors, if questioned, could declare that they did not

mean what all the world knew they did mean. As for readers, they developed a taste for

forbidden books, which were always easy enough to obtain through illicit channels and

foreign booksellers.

Paris was the heart of the movement. Here, in the town houses of the

well-to-do, literary and social celebrities gathered for literate conversation.

It might occasionally happen that a notable philosophe was also wealthy;

such was the case of Helvétius, who not only wrote books On the Mind and On Man but also gave grand entertainments at which such matters were discussed. Mainly, however, this mingling of people and ideas went on in salons conducted by women who

became famous as hostesses, or salonnières, and who played a crucial mediating role in

what came to be called the “Republic of Letters.” Madame de Geoffrin, for example, for

a period of 25 years beginning about 1750, organized conversations of artists and writers

at dinner, sometimes helped them fi nancially, and introduced them to persons of infl u-

ence in high society or in government. She welcomed visiting foreigners also, such as

Horace Walpole and David Hume from England and young Stanislas Poniatowski before

he became king of Poland. Because other women held similar salons, philosophes and

other writers had frequent opportunity to meet and exchange ideas.

Salons became well-organized meeting places at which authors introduced new works

to critical readers, salonnières read letters from travelers or distant correspondents, and

lively conversation spread the reputations of aspiring philosophes. The leading salonnières

gave careful attention to the intellectual themes and social continuities of their salons.

Censorship

Paris: the heart of the

Enlightenment

35. The Philosophes—and Others

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Chapter 8 The Age of Enlightenment314

Suzanne Necker, whose salon met on Friday afternoons during the 1770s and 1780s,

prepared for her weekly conversations by listing in her journal the ideas and books that she

wanted to discuss. Julie de Lespinasse provided opportunities for almost constant discus-

sion at her Parisian home, where she received visitors every evening of the week for

12 years. “Her great art,” wrote one admirer, “was to show to advantage the minds of oth-

ers, and she enjoyed doing that more than revealing her own.” Salons and salonnières pro-

moted the ideals of a cosmopolitan Republic of Letters in which talent and creativity

counted for more than noble lineage; and though women lost much of their cultural infl u-

ence after the 1780s, some salons of this kind survived the Revolution. In 1795, after the

Terror, the widows of two eminent philosophes, Helvétius and Condorcet, opened or

reopened their salons in Paris for people of moderate republican or liberal sentiments. Sophie

Condorcet became a writer herself and a translator of Adam Smith. Her salon remained a

center of liberal opposition during the years of Napoleon. More short-lived was the salon of

the even more famous Germaine de Staël, who also wrote widely read books and who,

among her many other ideas, deplored the subordination of women that the Revolution had

done little to change. These post-Revolutionary salons became social-cultural meeting

places in which much of France’s nineteenth-century liberalism would begin to emerge.

In Paris also, in the mid-eighteenth century, the most serious of all

philosophe enterprises, the Encyclopédie, was published in 17 large volumes and completed over the years 1751 to 1772. Edited by Denis Diderot, it was

a great compendium of scientifi c, technical, and historical knowledge, car-

rying a strong undertone of criticism of existing society and institutions and

epitomizing the skeptical, rational, and scientifi c spirit of the age. It was not the fi rst encyclo-

pedia, but it was the fi rst to have a distinguished list of contributors or to be conceived as a

positive force for social progress. Virtually all the French philosophes contributed—Voltaire,

Montesquieu, Rousseau, d’Alembert (who assisted in the editing), Buffon, Turgot, Quesnay,

and many others, all sometimes collectively called the Encyclopedists. Although edited in

Paris, the Encyclopédie became very widely known and read. About 25,000 multivolumed sets were sold before the Revolution, about half of them outside France, because French had

become an international language understood by educated persons all over Europe. Within

France itself the Encyclopédie was read in all parts of the country and in the most infl uential ranks of society. At Besançon, for example, a city of about 28,000 inhabitants, 137 sets were

sold to local residents, of whom 15 were members of the clergy, 53 were of the nobility, and

69 were lawyers, doctors, merchants, government offi cials, or others of what was called the

Third Estate. The privileged groups whom the Encyclopedists most often criticized, that is,

the clergy and the nobility, read the Encyclopédie or at least purchased it far out of propor- tion to their numbers in the population as a whole.

Men and women who considered themselves philosophes, or close to the philosophes in

spirit, were found all over Europe. Frederick the Great was an eminent philosophe; not only

was he the friend of Voltaire and host to a circle of literary and scientifi c men at Potsdam,

but he also wrote epigrams, satires, dissertations, and histories, as well as works on military

science; and he had a gift of wit, a sharp tongue, and a certain impishness toward the tradi-

tional and the pompous. Catherine the Great, empress of Russia, was also a philosophe for

much the same reason. Maria Theresa, of Austria, was not a philosophe; she was too reli-

gious and too little concerned with general ideas. Her son Joseph, on the other hand, as we

shall see, proved to be virtually a philosophe enthroned. In England Bishop Warburton was

considered by some of his friends as a philosophe; he held that the Church of England of his

day, as a social institution, was exactly what pure reason would have invented. The Scottish

Diderot’s

Encyclopédie

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315

skeptical philosopher David Hume also counted as a philosophe, as did Edward Gibbon,

who shocked the pious by his attacks on Christianity in his famous Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire. Dr. Samuel Johnson was not a philosophe, though he was best known for a typical eighteenth-century project—the compilation of a new dictionary of the English

language. Johnson worried over the supernatural, adhered to the established church, defl ated

pretentious authors, and even declared that Voltaire and Rousseau were evil men who should

be sent “to the plantations.” There were also Italian and German philosophes, like the

Marquis di Beccaria, who condemned torture and sought to humanize the criminal law, or

Baron Grimm, who sent a literary newsletter from Paris to his many subscribers.

Montesquieu, Voltaire, and Rousseau

Most famous of all philosophes were the French trio, Montesquieu (1689–1755), Voltaire

(1694–1778), and Rousseau (1712–1778). They differed vehemently with each other, but

all were hailed as literary geniuses in their own day. All turned from pure literature to

works of political commentary and social analysis. All thought that the existing state of

society could be improved.

The salon of Madame de Geoffrin, depicted here by the artist Lemonnier, became one of the best-known meeting places for writers and artists in mid-eighteenth-century Paris. This imag- ined scene of an author reading from his work was painted early in the following century, but it shows the enduring cultural reputation of famous salons and salonnières. (RMN-Grand Palais/Art Resource, NY)

35. The Philosophes—and Others

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Chapter 8 The Age of Enlightenment316

Montesquieu, twice a baron, was a landed aristocrat, a seigneur or manorial lord in

southwestern France. He inherited from his uncle a seat in the Parlement of Bordeaux and

sat actively in that parlement after the death of Louis XIV. He was part of the noble resur-

gence that began about 1715 and continued on through the eighteenth century. Although he

shared many of the ideas in the stream of aristocratic and antiabsolutist thought, he went

beyond a mere self-centered class philosophy. In his great work, The Spirit of Laws, published in 1748, he developed two principal ideas. One was that forms of

government varied according to climate and circumstances, for example,

that despotism was suited to large empires in hot climates, and that democ-

racy would work only in small city-states. His other great doctrine, aimed

against royal absolutism in France (which he called “despotism”), was the

separation and balance of powers. In France he believed that power should be divided

between the king and a great many “intermediate bodies”—parlements, provincial estates,

organized nobility, chartered towns, and even the church. His position as a judge in

parlement, a provincial, and a nobleman gave him good reasons to favor the fi rst three, and

his work in Bordeaux helped him to recognize the importance of the bourgeoisie in French

towns; as for the church, he observed that, while he took no stock in its teachings, he

thought it useful as a barrier to undue centralization of government. He greatly admired the

English constitution as he understood it, believing that England carried over, more success-

fully than any other country, the feudal liberties of the early Middle Ages. He thought that

in England the necessary separation and balance of powers was obtained by an ingenious

mixture of monarchy, aristocracy, and democracy (king, lords, and commons) and by a

separation of the functions of the executive, legislature, and judiciary. This doctrine had a

wide infl uence in Europe and was also well known to the Americans who in 1787 wrote the

Constitution of the United States. Montesquieu’s own philosophe friends thought him too

conservative and even tried to dissuade him from publishing his ideas. He was, indeed,

technically a reactionary, favoring a scheme of things that antedated Louis XIV, and he

was unusual among contemporaries in his admiration of the “barbarous” Middle Ages.

Montesquieu’s The

Spirit of Laws

This portrait of Voltaire (c. 1736) by Maurice-Quentin de La Tour suggests the playful, ironic style that made his works accessible and popular, even when he was attacking religious persecutions or the suppression of controversial ideas. (Gianni Dagli Orti/The Art Archive at Art

Resource, NY)

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317

Voltaire was born in 1694 into a comfortable bourgeois family and

christened François-Marie Arouet; “Voltaire,” an invented name, is simply

the most famous of all eighteenth-century pen names. Until he was over 40

he was known only as a clever writer of epigrams, tragedies in verse, and an epic. There-

after he turned increasingly to philosophical and public questions. His strength throughout

lay in the facility of his pen. He is the easiest of all great writers to read. He was always

trenchant, logical, and incisive, sometimes scurrilous; mocking and sarcastic when he

wished to be, equally a master of deft irony and of withering ridicule. However serious in

his purpose, he achieved it by getting his readers to laugh.

In his youth Voltaire spent 11 months in the Bastille for what was considered to be

impertinence to the Regent, who, however, in the next year rewarded him with a pension

for one of his dramas. He was again arrested after a fracas with a nobleman, the Chevalier

de Rohan, but he moved to England to avoid another imprisonment. He remained an incor-

rigible bourgeois, while never deeply objecting to the aristocracy on principle. Through

his admirer Mme. de Pompadour (another bourgeois, though the king’s favorite) he later

became a gentleman of the bedchamber and royal historian to Louis XV. These functions

he fulfi lled in absentia, when at all, for Paris and Versailles were too unsafe for him. He was the personal friend of Frederick the Great, in whose household he lived for about two

years at Potsdam. The two fi nally quarreled, for no stage was big enough to hold two such

prima donnas for long. Voltaire made a fortune from his writings, pensions, speculations,

and practical business sense. In his later years he purchased a manor at Ferney near the

Swiss frontier. Here he became, as he said, the “hotel keeper of Europe,” receiving the

streams of distinguished admirers, favor hunters, and distressed persons who came to seek

him out. He died at Paris in 1778, at the age of 84, by far the most famous man of letters in

Europe. His collected writings fi ll over 70 volumes.

Voltaire was mainly interested in the freedom of thought. Like Montesquieu, he was

an admirer of England. He spent three years in that country, where, in 1727, he witnessed

the state funeral accorded to Sir Isaac Newton and his burial in Westminster Abbey.

Voltaire’s Philosophical Letters on the English (1733) and Elements of the Philosophy of Newton (1738) not only brought England increasingly before the consciousness of the rest of Europe but also popularized the new scientifi c ideas—the inductive philosophy of

Bacon, the physics of Newton, and the psychology of Locke, whose doctrine that all true

ideas arose from sense experience undercut the authority of religious belief. What Voltaire

mainly admired in England was its religious liberty, its tolerance for diverse ideas and

scientifi c inquiry, its relative freedom of the press, and its respect for men of letters like

himself. Political liberty concerned him much less than it did Montesquieu. Louis XIV, a

villain for Montesquieu and the neoaristocratic school, was a hero for Voltaire, who wrote

a laudatory Age of Louis XIV (1751) praising the Sun King for the splendor of art and lit- erature in his reign. Voltaire likewise continued to esteem Frederick the Great, though he

quarreled with him personally. Frederick was in fact almost his ideal of the enlightened

ruler, a man who sponsored the arts and sciences, recognized no religious authority, and

granted toleration to all creeds, welcoming Protestants and Catholics on equal terms if

only they would be socially useful.

After about 1740 Voltaire became more defi nitely the crusader, preaching the cause

of religious toleration. He fought to clear the memory of Jean Calas, a Protestant who was

tortured and put to death on the false charge of murdering a son to prevent his conver-

sion to Catholicism. He wrote also to exonerate a youth named La Barre, who had been

executed for defi ling a wayside cross. Écrasez l’infâme! became the famous Voltairean war cry—“crush the infamous thing!” The infâme for him was bigotry, intolerance, and

Voltaire

35. The Philosophes—and Others

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Chapter 8 The Age of Enlightenment318

superstition and behind these the power of an organized clergy. He assaulted not only the

Catholic Church but the whole traditional Christian view of the world as well. He argued

for “natural religion” and “natural morality,” holding that belief in God and the difference

between good and evil arose from reason itself. This doctrine had in fact long been taught

by the Catholic Church. But Voltaire insisted that no supernatural revelation in addition to

reason was desirable or necessary; belief in a special supernatural revelation, he argued,

made people intolerant, stupid, and cruel.

Voltaire was also the fi rst to present a purely secular conception of world history. In

his Essai sur les moeurs, or “Universal History,” he began with ancient China and surveyed the great civilizations in turn. Earlier writers of world history had put human events within

a Christian framework. Following the Bible, they began with the Creation, proceeded to the

Fall, recounted the rise of Israel, and so on. Voltaire put Judeo-Christian history within a

much broader world history and placed religious thought in a sociological framework. He

represented Christianity and all other organized religions as social phenomena or mere

human inventions. Spinoza had said as much; Voltaire’s engaging literary

style helped to spread these ideas through Europe.

In matters of politics and self-government Voltaire was neither a lib-

eral nor a democrat. His opinion of the human race was about as low as his

friend Frederick’s. If only a government was enlightened, he did not care how powerful it

was. By an enlightened government he meant one that fought against sloth and stupidity,

kept the clergy in a subordinate place, allowed freedom of thought and religion, encour-

aged the development of reason and science, and advanced the cause of material and

technical progress. He had no developed political theory, but his ideal for large civilized

countries approached that of enlightened or rational despotism. Believing that only a few

could be enlightened, he thought that rational elites and kings should have the power

to carry out their program against all opposition. To overcome ignorance, credulity, and

priestcraft it was necessary for the state to be strong. What Voltaire most

desired was liberty for the enlightened, or for people like himself.

Jean-Jacques Rousseau was very different. Born in Geneva in 1712, he

was a Swiss, a Protestant, and almost of lower-class origin. He never felt

at ease in France or in Parisian society. His mother died a few days after

his birth, and he was neglected as a child. Running away from Geneva at age 16, he lived

for years by odd jobs, such as copying music, and not until the age of 40 did he have any

success as a writer. He was intellectually ambitious, but he viewed himself always as a

social outsider. In addition, his personal relations with women were diffi cult and unstable;

he fi nally settled down with an uneducated woman named Thérèse Levasseur and with

her mother, who kept interfering in his affairs. By Thérèse he had fi ve children, all of

whom he deposited at an orphanage. He had no social status, no money, and no sense of

money, and after he became famous he lived largely by the generosity of his friends. He

was pathetically and painfully maladjusted. He came to feel that he could trust no one,

that those who tried to befriend him were deriding or betraying him behind his back. He

condemned the cultural infl uence of French women, criticizing especially their prominent

role in Parisian salons (“they do not know anything, although they judge everything”).

He suffered from what would now be termed psychological complexes; possibly he was

paranoid. He talked endlessly of his own virtue and innocence and complained bitterly that

he was misunderstood.

But unbalanced though he was, he was possibly the most profound writer of the age

and was certainly the most permanently infl uential. Rousseau felt, from his own experi-

ence, that in society as it existed a good person could not be happy. He therefore attacked

Voltaire on politics

Jean-Jacques

Rousseau

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319

society, declaring that it was artifi cial and corrupt. He even attacked reason, calling it a

false guide when followed without feelings or emotions. He felt doubts about the social

and cultural progress that gave satisfaction to his contemporaries. In two

“discourses,” one on the Arts and Sciences (1750), the other on the Origin of Inequality among Men (1753), he argued that civilization was the source of much evil and that life in a “state of nature,” were it only possible, would

be much freer; and all people in such conditions would be far more equal.

As Voltaire said, when Rousseau sent him a copy of his second discourse (Voltaire

who relished civilization in every form), it made him “feel like going on all fours.” To

Rousseau the best traits of human character, such as kindness, unselfi shness, honesty, and

true understanding between different persons, were products of nature rather than the

social progress of modern civilizations. Deep below reason, he sensed the presence of

feeling. He delighted in the warmth of sympathy, the quick fl ash of intuition, the clear

message of conscience. He was religious by temperament, for though he believed in no

church, no clergy, and no revelation, he had a respect for the Bible, a reverent awe toward

the cosmos, a love of solitary meditation, and a belief in a God who was not merely a “fi rst

cause” but also a God of love and beauty. Rousseau thus made it easier for serious-minded

people to slip away from orthodoxy and all forms of churchly discipline. He was feared by

the churches as the most dangerous of all “infi dels” and was condemned both in Catholic

France and Protestant Geneva.

In general, in most of his books, Rousseau, unlike so many of his contemporaries,

gave the impression that impulse is more reliable than considered judgment, spontaneous

feeling more to be trusted than critical thought. Mystical insights were for him more truth-

ful than rational or clear ideas. He became the “man of feeling,” the “child of nature,” the

forerunner of the coming age of romanticism, and an important source of all modern

emphasis on the nonrational and the subconscious. He thus became an early, infl uential

critic of the Enlightenment, even as he resembled other philosophes in his desire to change

the existing social order.

In the Social Contract (1762), however, Rousseau seemed to contra- dict much of his famous sentiment for nature. In this book he held, some-

what like Hobbes, that the state of nature was a brutish condition without

law or morality. In other works he had held that human evil was due to the evils of society.

He now held that good people could be produced only by an improved society. Earlier

thinkers, such as John Locke, for example, had thought of the “contract” as an agreement

between a ruler and a people. Rousseau thought of it as an agreement among the people

themselves. It was a social, not merely a political, contract. Organized civil society, that

is, the community, rested upon it. The social contract was an understanding by which all

individuals surrendered their natural liberty to each other, fused their individual wills into

a combined General Will, and agreed to accept the rulings of this General Will as fi nal.

This General Will was the sovereign; and true sovereign power, rightly understood, was

“absolute,” “sacred,” and “inviolable.” Government was secondary; kings, offi cials, or

elected representatives were only delegates of a sovereign people. Rousseau devoted

many diffi cult pages to explaining how the real General Will could be known. It was not necessarily determined by vote of a majority. “What generalizes the will,” he said, “is

not the number of voices but the common interest that unites them.” He said little of the

mechanism of government and had no admiration for parliamentary institutions. He was

concerned with something deeper. Maladjusted outsider that he was, he craved a com-

monwealth in which every person could feel that he or she belonged. He wished a state in

which all persons had a sense of membership and participation.

Rousseau’s

“discourses”

The Social Contract

35. The Philosophes—and Others

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Chapter 8 The Age of Enlightenment320

By these ideas Rousseau made himself the prophet of both democracy and nationalism.

Indeed, in his Considerations on Poland, written at the request of Poles who were fi ghting against the partitions of their nation’s territories by foreign powers, Rousseau applied the

ideas of the Social Contract in more concrete form and became the fi rst systematic theorist of a conscious and calculated nationalism. In writing the Social Contract he had in mind a small city-state like his native Geneva. But what he did, in effect, was to generalize and make

applicable to large territories the psychology of small city republics—the sense of member-

ship, of community and fellowship, of responsible citizenship and intimate participation in

public affairs—in short, of a common and collective will. All modern states, democratic or

undemocratic, strive to impart this sense of moral solidarity to their peoples. Whereas in

democratic states the General Will can in some way be identifi ed with the sovereignty of the

people, in dictatorships it becomes possible for individuals (or parties) to arrogate to them-

selves the right to serve as spokesmen and interpreters of the General Will. Both totalitarians

and democrats have regarded Rousseau as one of their prophets.

Rousseau’s infl uence on his contemporaries was spread also by his other writings

and especially his novels, Émile (1762) and Julie, or the New Héloïse (1760). The novels were widely read in all literate classes of society, by men and especially by women, who

found an emotional resonance in characters such as the ill-fated Julie, and who made a

kind of cult of Jean-Jacques. He was a literary master, able to evoke shades of thought

and feeling that few writers had touched before, and by his literary writings he spread in

the highest circles a new respect for the common person, a love of common things, an

impulse of human pity and compassion, a sense of artifi ce and superfi ciality in aristocratic

life. Women took to nursing their own babies, as Rousseau said they should. Men began

describing the delicacy of their sentiments. Tears became the fashion. The queen, Marie

Antoinette, built herself a village in the gardens at Versailles, where she pretended to be a

simple milkmaid. In all this there was much that was shallow or contrived or completely

disconnected from the lives of people in a real peasant village. Yet this new interest in the

lives of lower-class persons became the wellspring of modern humanitarianism, the force

leading to a new sense of human equality. Rousseau estranged the French upper classes

from their own mode of life. He made many of them lose faith in their own superiority.

That was his main direct contribution to the French Revolution.

Political Economists

In France, somewhat apart from the philosophes, were the Physiocrats,

whom their critics called “economists,” a word originally thought to be

mildly insulting. Many of the Physiocrats, unlike the philosophes, were

close to the government as administrators or advisers. Quesnay was phy-

sician to Louis XV, Turgot was an experienced offi cial who became minister to Louis

XVI, and Dupont de Nemours, an associate of Turgot’s, became the founder of the indus-

trial family of the Du Ponts in the United States. Such men concerned themselves with

fi scal and tax reform and with measures to increase the national wealth of France. They

argued that agriculture, grain production, and effi cient uses of the land provided essential

economic foundations for an expanding national commerce. Moving away from earlier

mercantilist strategies for government control of trade, they opposed guild regulations and

price controls as impediments to the production and circulation of goods. The Physiocrats

were the fi rst to use the term laissez-faire (“let them do as they see fi t”) as a principle of

economic activity; and some proposed that even the grain trade should operate without

government interventions—a politically risky proposal that no French king would ever

Physiocrats

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321

accept. They favored strong government, however, relying on it to overcome traditional

obstacles and to provide inducements for the establishment of new industries.

Economics, or what was long called political economy, arose from these activities of

the Physiocrats, from the somewhat similar work of “cameralists” in the German states,

and from the collection and analysis of quantitative data, that is, the birth of statistics.

Political economy thus became another example of the belief that scientifi c methods

should be used to understand human societies as well as nature. Economic thinking fl our-

ished especially in Great Britain, and notably in Scotland, where Adam Smith’s Wealth of Nations appeared in 1776. By 1800 the Wealth of Nations had been translated into every western European language except Portuguese.

Adam Smith’s purpose, like that of the French Physiocrats, was to

increase the national wealth by the reduction of barriers that hindered its

growth. He undercut the premises of what we have called “the struggle for

wealth and empire,” because he argued that to build up a nation’s wealth it was unneces-

sary to have an empire. He attacked most of the program of mercantilism that had evolved

since the sixteenth century, and he expected that Britain’s American colonies would soon

become independent without loss to British trade. Where others looked to planning by

an enlightened government, Adam Smith preferred to limit the functions of government

to defense, internal security, and the provision of reasonable laws and fair law courts by

which private differences could be adjudicated. For innovation and enterprise he counted

more on private persons than on the state. He became the philosopher of the free mar-

ket, the prophet of free trade. If there was a shortage of a given commodity, its price

would rise and so stimulate producers to produce more, while also attracting new persons

into that line of production. If there was an excess, if more was produced than purchasers

would buy, both capital and labor would withdraw and gradually move into another area

Adam Smith

JEAN-JACQUES ROUSSEAU by Allan Ramsay (Scottish, 1713–1784)

Some hints of the complexities of Rousseau’s personality and thought appear in this por- trait by a Scottish artist who admired the famous writers of the French Enlightenment. (Bridgeman-Giraudon/Art

Resource, NY)

35. The Philosophes—and Others

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Chapter 8 The Age of Enlightenment322

Historical Interpretations and Debates

Social Institutions and Culture in the Age of Enlightenment

Historians have increasingly moved beyond the analysis of Enlightenment-era intellectual debates to examine the social and institutional contexts in which writers exchanged ideas or tried to build a literary reputation. The Parisian salons, which were organized and led by women called “salonnières,” became a key meeting place for the philosophes, but historians disagree about the salons’ openness and political infl uence. Many poor writers, for example, lived precariously in the marginal social world of “Grub Street” and never went to salons. Dena Goodman and Robert Darnton thus represent some of the different historical arguments that interpret the role of salons in Enlightenment-era literary culture.

Dena Goodman, “Enlightenment Salons: The Convergence of Female and Philosophic Ambitions” (1989) Why did [eighteenth-century French] women

form salons? . . . In an age when women

did not have or aspire to careers, the salon

was just that: a career based on a long

apprenticeship and careful study, resulting

in the independence of a mastership. . . .

Unlike the men who shaped themselves and

made their mark in the world through careers,

the salonnière reaped no material rewards from her labor. . . .

The salon offered the philosophes a

social space that valued ideas and fostered

discussion. . . . [Salons] were to be useful to

those who directed and attended them, and,

eventually, to the society at large beyond

them. . . .

In addition to sponsoring serious and

productive intellectual activity, the salons were

crucial in establishing an undifferentiated

social space in which such activity could take

place. What distinguished salons from courts

and the dominant society they represented

was . . . the mixing of ranks and orders, [and]

the absence of hierarchy and marks of social

distinction [in the debates] that took place in

them. The kind of conversation fostered in the

salons depended upon a recognized equality

among the speakers. . . .

For a collective project of Enlightenment,

the salons were not simply diversions; nor

were the women who ran them simply an

audience whose social demands undermined

the seriousness of male work. What the salons

provided the philosophes was a serious social

environment that established a structure for

Robert Darnton, The Literary Underground of the Old Regime (1982) Perhaps the literary world has always divided

into a hierarchy whose extremes might be

labeled a monde [society] of mandarins on the one hand and Grub Street on the other. . . .

But the social and economic conditions of the

High Enlightenment opened up an unusual

gulf between the two groups during the last

twenty-fi ve years of the Old Regime. . . .

Literacy probably doubled in the course

of the [eighteenth] century, and the general

upward swing of the economy, combined

with improvements in the educational system,

very likely produced a larger, wealthier, and

more leisured reading public. Certainly book

production soared. . . . But there is little

evidence that writers benefi ted from any

publishing boom. On the contrary, everything

indicates that while the mandarins fattened

themselves on pensions, most authors sank

into a sort of literary proletariat. . . .

The most salient fact is that the

marketplace could not support many more

writers. . . . [And] once he had fallen into

Grub Street, the provincial youth who had

dreamt of storming Parnassus never extricated

himself. . . .

Seen from the perspective of Grub

Street, the republic of letters was a lie. . . .

Grub Street had no principles, and it had no

institutions of a formal kind. . . .

Despite the democratic play of wit, the

salon remained a rather formal institution.

It did not allow any putting of elbows on

the table or any admission to those without

introductions. During the last decades of the

Old Regime, the salon became increasingly a

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323

where demand was stronger. Demand would increase with lower prices, which depended

on lower costs, which in turn depended on the specialization or division of labor. His most

famous example was that of the pin factory of his time, where each of a dozen workers

engaged in only one part of the process of manufacture, so that together they produced far

more pins than if each worker produced whole pins; the price of pins then fell, and more

pins could be used by more people. The same principle held in international trade; some

countries or climates could produce an article more cheaply than others, so that if each

specialized and then exchanged with the others, all would have more. Each nation could

use its comparative advantage in certain spheres of production or trade to compensate for

economic weaknesses in other spheres and also to increase its national wealth.

The motivation for all such production and exchange was to be the self-interest of

the participants. As he said, we rely for our meat not on the goodwill of the butcher but

on his concern for his own income. To those who might object that this was a system of

selfi shness Adam Smith would reply (being a professor of moral philosophy at the Uni-

versity of Glasgow) that a free market system was at least realistic, describing how people

really behaved, and that a free market system was morally justifi ed because it ultimately

produced a maximum both of freedom and of abundance. The mutual interaction of the

enlightened self-interest of millions of persons would in the end, as if by an “invisible

hand,” he said, result in the highest welfare of all. Among problems that Smith minimized,

or accepted as lesser evils, were the economic insecurity of individuals, the destabiliz-

ing political consequences of extreme differences in wealth, and the dangers of excessive

dependence of a whole country on imports of essentials, such as food. If the visible hand

of government continued to regulate the price of bread, for example, such actions showed

how economic policies still had to fi t within the broader political goals of governments that

wanted to prevent rioting, ensure social peace, and retain popular support.

Main Currents of Enlightenment Thought

It is clear that the main currents of eighteenth-century thought in France and Europe were

divergent and inconsistent. There was a general belief in progress, reason, science, and

civilization. Rousseau had his doubts and praised the imagined conditions in a precivi-

lized state of nature. Montesquieu thought the church useful but did not believe in reli-

gion; Rousseau believed in religion but saw no need for any church. Montesquieu was

Sources: Dena Goodman, “Enlightenment Salons: The Convergence of Female and Philosophic Ambitions,” in Eighteenth-Century Studies 22 (Spring 1989), pp. 332–333, 337–339; Robert Darnton, The Literary Underground of the Old Regime (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1982), pp. 16, 18, 19–20, 23.

Dena Goodman . . . (contd. . . .) their discourse: a structure that, although it did

have limits, was highly elastic and allowed

for the growth of speakers and of speech. . . .

[The] composition of salon society, and

especially the inclusion of women in it, made

it a model for that general public that was to

be enlightened even as it was created.

Robert Darnton . . . (contd. . . .) preserve for the high philosophes, who

generally abandoned the cafés to the lower

species of littérateur. The café functioned

as the antithesis of the salon. It was open to

everyone, just one step from the street.

35. The Philosophes—and Others

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Chapter 8 The Age of Enlightenment324

concerned about practical political liberty; Voltaire would surrender political liberty in

return for guarantees of intellectual freedom; Rousseau wanted emancipation from the

restraints of society and sought the freedom that consists in merging with nature and with

one’s fellows. Most philosophes were closest to Voltaire. They favored more tolerance for

intellectual differences and more legal equality in European societies. It was not a very

far-reaching equality, but it meant equality of rights for persons of different religions, a

reduction of privileges enjoyed by nobles but not by commoners, greater equality of status

in law courts and in the payment of taxes, and more opportunity for middle-class persons

to rise to positions of social or political importance.

France was the main center of the Enlightenment. French philosophes traveled all over

Europe. Frederick II and Catherine II invited French thinkers to their courts. French was the

language of the academies of St. Petersburg and Berlin. Frederick wrote his philosophical

works in the French language. The upper classes of Europe shared a uniform cosmopolitan

culture, and this culture was predominantly French. But Britain was important also. Hitherto

somewhat on the fringes of the European consciousness, Britain now moved closer to the

center. Montesquieu and Voltaire may be said to have “discovered” Britain for Europe.

Through them the ideas of Bacon, Newton, and Locke, and the whole theory of British liberty

and parliamentary government became matters for general discussion and comment. We have

seen, too, how Adam Smith’s Wealth of Nations was soon translated into many languages. Although the Physiocrats and others had begun to advocate “laissez-faire” economic

theories, the state was widely viewed as the main agent of social progress. Whether in the

form of limited monarchy on the British model favored by Montesquieu, or of enlightened

despotism preferred by Voltaire, or of the idealized republican commonwealth portrayed

by Rousseau, the rightly ordered government was considered the best guarantee of social

welfare. Even the political economists needed the state to shake people out of the habits of

ages, sweep away a mass of local regulation, preserve law and order and the enforcement

of contracts, and so assure the existence of a free market. But if they relied

on the state, they were not nationalists in any later sense of the word. As

“universalists,” they believed in the unity of humankind under a natural law

of right and reason and thus they carried over the classical and Christian

outlook in a secular way. They supposed that all peoples would participate

eventually in the same progress. No nation was thought to have a distinctive message or

unique path to progress. French ideas enjoyed a wide currency, but no one thought of them

as peculiarly French, arising from a French “national character.” It was simply thought

that the French at the time were in the vanguard of civilized thinking. Such was the idea of

Condorcet, one of the later philosophes, a leading spokesman of the Enlightenment who

became an active fi gure in the French Revolution, and also one of its victims, and who in

1794, while in hiding from his radical political enemies, wrote the great testament to the

Enlightenment, his Sketch of the Progress of the Human Mind.

36. ENLIGHTENED DESPOTISM: FRANCE, AUSTRIA, PRUSSIA

The Meaning of Enlightened Despotism

Enlightened despotism is hard to defi ne, because it grew out of earlier forms of absolutism

that Louis XIV and Peter the Great had established in France and Russia. Characteristi-

cally, the enlightened despots drained marshes, built roads and bridges, codifi ed the laws,

Belief in the unity of

humankind

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32536. Enlightened Despotism: France, Austria, Prussia

repressed provincial autonomy and localism, curtailed the independence of church and

nobles, and developed a trained and salaried offi cialdom. Kings had done all these things

before. Enlightened despots differed from their “unenlightened” predecessors mainly in

attitude and tempo. They said little of a divine right to the throne. They might even not

emphasize hereditary or dynastic family rights. They justifi ed their authority on grounds

of usefulness to society, calling themselves, as Frederick the Great did, the “fi rst servant

of the state.”

Enlightened despotism was secular; it claimed no mandate from

heaven and recognized no special responsibility to God or church. The typi-

cal enlightened despot consequently favored toleration in religion, and this

was an important new emphasis after about 1740; but here again there was precedent in

the older absolutism, for the rulers of Prussia had been inclined toward toleration before

Frederick, and even the French Bourbons had recognized a degree of religious liberty

for almost a century following the Edict of Nantes in 1598. The secular outlook of the

enlightened governments also shaped the common front they adopted against the Jesuits.

High papalists, affi rming the authority of a universal church in Rome and asserting them-

selves in other ways as the strongest religious order in the Catholic world, the Jesuits were

distasteful to the enlightened monarchs. In the 1760s the order was banned in almost

all Catholic countries. In 1773 the pope was persuaded to dissolve the Society of Jesus

entirely. Governments in France, Austria, Spain, Portugal, and Naples confi scated Jesuit

property and took over the Jesuit schools. Not until 1814 was the order reconstituted.

Enlightened despots wanted to be rational and reformist. The typical enlightened mon-

arch set out to reconstruct the state by the use of reason. Sharing the widespread eighteenth-

century view of the past as benighted, the new monarchs were impatient of custom and of

all that was imbedded in custom or claimed as a heritage from the past, such as systems of

customary law and the rights and privileges of church, nobles, towns, guilds, provinces,

assemblies of estates, or, in France, the judicial bodies called parlements. The complex

network of such institutions was disparagingly referred to as “feudalism.” Monarchs had

long struggled against feudalism in this sense, but in the past they had usually compro-

mised. The enlightened despot was less willing to compromise, and herein lay a difference

in tempo. The new monarchs acted abruptly, desiring quicker results.

Enlightened despotism, in short, was an acceleration of the old central-

izing institution of monarchy, which now put aside its quasi-sacred mantle

and undertook to justify itself in the cold light of reason and secular use-

fulness. In theory even the dynastic claim was awkward, for it also rested

on inheritance from the past. Under enlightened despotism the idea of the state itself was

changing, from the older notion of an entity that belonged by a kind of sanctifi ed property

right to its ruler, to a newer notion of an abstract and impersonal authority that public offi -

cials exercised to promote or protect the interests of a whole country. The king was simply

the highest public offi cial or embodiment of the state’s authority.

The trend to enlightened despotism after 1740 owed a great deal to writers and

philosophes, but it arose also out of a very practical situation, namely, the great wars of

the mid-eighteenth century. War, in modern history, has usually led to concentration and

rationalizing of government power, and the wars of 1740–1748 and 1756–1763 were no

exception. Under their impact even those governments that were not considered enlight-

ened, notably those of Louis XV and Maria Theresa, and even the government of Great

Britain, which was certainly not despotic, embarked on programs that all exemplifi ed

common centralizing patterns. They attempted to augment their revenues, devise new

The secular outlook

The roots of

enlightened despotism

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Chapter 8 The Age of Enlightenment326

taxes, tax persons or regions hitherto more or less tax exempt, limit the autonomy of out-

lying political bodies, and centralize and renovate their respective political systems. The

workings of enlightened despotism might be seen in many states, but the new policies had

the most far-reaching infl uence in the larger Continental countries—France and Austria,

Prussia and Russia—and in the rather different, yet not wholly different, course of events

in the British Empire.

The Failure of Enlightened Despotism in France

It was in France that enlightened despotism had the least success. Louis XV, who had

inherited the throne as a child in 1715 and lived until 1774, was by no means stupid; but he

was indifferent to most serious questions, absorbed in the daily rounds at Versailles, disin-

clined to make trouble for people with whom he had personal contact, and interested in

government only by fi ts and starts. His reputed remark, après moi le déluge, whether or not he really said it, suffi ciently characterizes his personal attitude to conditions in France. Yet

the French government was not unenlightened, and many capable offi cials carried on its

affairs all through the century. These offi cials generally understood the government’s

basic problem. Most of the practical diffi culties of the French monarchy could be traced to

its methods of raising revenue. It derived some income from the sale of offi ces and privi-

leges, which had the perverse effect of building up vested interests in the

existing system. Among the government’s actual taxes the most important

was the taille, a kind of land tax, generally paid only by peasants. Nobles were exempt from it on principle, and offi ceholders and bourgeois, for one

reason or another, were generally exempt also. In addition, the church, which owned

between 5 and 10 percent of the land of the country, insisted that its property was not tax-

able by the state; it granted to the king a periodic “free gift” that, though sizable, was less

than the government might have received from direct taxation. The consequence of the tax

exemptions was that, although France itself was wealthy and prosperous, the government

was chronically poor, because the social classes that enjoyed most of the wealth and pros-

perity did not pay taxes corresponding to their incomes.

Louis XIV, under pressure of war, had tried to tax everybody alike by creating new

levies—the capitation or poll tax and the dixième or tenth, both of which were assessed in proportion to income; but these taxes had been widely evaded. A similar effort to tax

higher incomes was made in 1726, but it too had failed. The propertied classes resisted

taxation because they thought it degrading. France had succumbed to the appalling prin-

ciple that to pay direct taxes was the sure mark of inferior status. Nobles, churchmen, and

bourgeois also resisted taxation because they were kept out of the policymaking functions

of government, and so they had no sense of political responsibility or control.

Tax collection

EUROPE, 1740 Boundaries show how territories were controlled by the various European states in 1740. There were now three Bourbon monarchies (France, Spain, and the Two Sicilies), while the Austrian monarchy possessed most of what is now Belgium, and in Italy the duchy of Milan and grand duchy of Tuscany, where the Medici family had recently died out. Prussia expanded by acquir- ing Silesia in the war of the 1740s. The fi rst partition of Poland in 1772 enlarged Prussia, Austria, and Russia. France acquired Lorraine in 1766 and Corsica in 1768. Otherwise there were no changes until the Revolutionary-Napoleonic wars of 1792–1814.

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327

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NAPLES

Corsica (Genoa)

Sardinia

SICILY

S PA I NPORTUGAL PAPAL STATES

S W E D E N

SERBIA

IRELAND

SCOTLAND

ENGLAND

LORRAINE (France 1766)

BA LE

ARI C I.

Majorca (Spain)

Minorca (Britain)

K IN

G D

O M

O F

SA R

D IN

IA

CHANNEL I. (Britain)

Cape de la Hogue

DENMARK

KINGDOM OF DENMARK AND NORWAY

SCHLESWIG

WALES

AUSTRIAN NETHERLANDS

UNITED PROVINCES

PALATI- NATE

PAR- MA

MILAN VENETIA

KINGDOM OF THE TWO SICILIES

MALTA (Knights of St. John)

DALMATIA (Venice)

CR OA

TIA

BOSNIA

MONTENEGRO

A U S T R I A N M O N A R C H Y KINGDOM

OF HUNGARY

TYROL

AU ST

RIA MORAVIA

BAVARIA

BOHEMIA

SILESIA SAXONY

MINOR GERMAN STATES

HANOVER (Britain)

NORWAY

LITHUANIA

EAST PRUSSIA

P O L A N D

P

R U

S S I A

PODOLIA

TRANSYLVANIA

BANAT

WALLACHIA

OTTOMAN EMPIRE

MOREA

IONIAN I. (Venice)

TUNISIA (Turkish)

ALGERIA (Turkish)MOROCCO

(Independent)

BRANDENBURG

A LBA

N IA

Paris

Lisbon Madrid

Gibraltar (Britain)

London

Rome

Venice

Berlin Warsaw

Budapest

St. Petersburg

Riga

Stockholm

Vienna

Granada Seville

Cadiz

Toledo

Almanza

Santiago

León

Burgos Pamplona

Barcelona

Tangier

Cagliari

Genoa Toulouse

Toulon Marseille

Avignon

Bordeaux Lyons Geneva

Besançon

Limoges

Tours

Quiberon Orléans

Metz ReimsRouen

Malplaquet

LiverpoolDublin

Edinburgh

Amsterdam

Utrecht

AntwerpOudenarde

Ramilles

Strasbourg

Turin

Bologna

Bari

Naples

Benevento

Palermo

Belgrade

Pressburg Munich

Blenheim

Frankfurt Dresden

Prague

Cologne Leipzig

Magdeburg

Hamburg

Copenhagen Memel

Danzig

Thorn

Breslau

Lublin

Cracow Lemberg

Munkacz

Sofia

Salonica

Athens

Tunis

Algiers

Brennen

Minsk

0 200 400 miles

Bourbon Dominions

Habsburg Dominions

Boundary of Holy Roman Empire

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Chapter 8 The Age of Enlightenment328

In the 1740s, under pressure of heavy war costs, a new tax was introduced, the

vingtième or twentieth, which imposed a 5 percent tax on income from all forms of property and was to be paid irrespective of class status, provincial liberties, or previous exemptions

of any kind. In practice, the vingtième amounted to less than 5 percent and fell only upon land, but it was paid by nobles and bourgeois alike and lasted until the Revolution. During

the Seven Years’ War the government tried to increase it, without success. A clamor arose

from the Parlement of Paris, the provincial parlements, the estates of Brittany, and the

church. All these institutions were now stronger than in the days of Louis XIV, and they

could now cite Montesquieu to justify their opposition to the crown. The parlements ruled

the tax increase to be incompatible with the laws of France, that is, unconstitutional; and

the pays d’états, or provinces having assemblies of estates, declared that their historic lib- erties were being violated. After several years of wrangling, Louis XV decided to push the

matter no further.

But after the Seven Years’ War, burdened with war debts, the government sought to

win effective central control by eliminating the parlements as a political force. In 1768

Louis XV called to the chancellorship a man named Maupeou, who simply abrogated the

old parlements and set up new ones in their place. Maupeou had the sympa-

thy of Voltaire and most of the philosophes. In the “Maupeou parlements”

the judges had no property rights in their seats but became salaried offi cials

appointed by the crown with assurances of secure tenure; and they were

forbidden to reject government edicts or to pass on their constitutionality,

being confi ned to purely judicial functions. Maupeou proposed to make the laws and

judicial procedure more uniform throughout the whole country. Meanwhile, with the old

parlements out of the way, the government tried again to tax the privileged

and exempted groups.

But Louis XV died in 1774. His grandson and successor, Louis XVI,

though more conscientious than his grandfather and possessed by a genu-

ine desire to govern well, resembled Louis XV in that he lacked sustained will power

and could not bear to offend the people who could get to see him personally. In any case

he was only 20 in 1774. The kingdom resounded with outcries against Maupeou and his

colleagues as minions of despotism and with demands for the immediate restoration of

the old Parlement of Paris and all the others. Louis XVI, fearful of beginning his reign

as a “despot,” therefore recalled the old parlements and abolished those that Maupeou

had established. The abortive Maupeou parlements represented the farthest step taken by

enlightened despotism in France. It was arbitrary, high-handed, and despotic for Louis XV

to destroy the old parlements, but it was certainly “enlightened” in the sense then connoted

by the word, for the old parlements were strongholds of aristocracy and privilege and had

for decades blocked programs of legal and fi nancial reform.

Louis XVI, in recalling the old parlements in 1774, began his reign by pacifying the

privileged classes. At the same time he appointed a reforming ministry. At its head was

Turgot, a philosophe and a Physiocrat and a widely experienced government administra-

tor. Turgot undertook to suppress the guilds and their privileged municipal monopolies

in their several trades. He allowed greater freedom to the internal commerce in grain. He

planned to abolish the royal corvée (a requirement that certain peasants labor on the roads a few days each year), replacing it by a money tax that would fall on all classes. He began

to review the whole system of taxation and in religious matters was known even to favor

the legal toleration of Protestants. The Parlement of Paris, supported by the Provincial

Estates and the church, vociferously opposed him, and in 1776 he resigned. Louis XVI, by

The “Maupeou

parlements”

Louis XVI

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329

recalling the parlements, had made reform impossible. In 1778 France again went to war

with Britain. The same cycle was repeated: war costs, debt, defi cit, new projects of taxa-

tion, resistance to tax reform from the parlements and other semiautonomous bodies. In the

1780s the clashes led to revolution.

Austria: The Reforms of Maria Theresa (1740–1780) and of Joseph II (1780–1790)

For Maria Theresa the European war of the 1740s proved the extraordinary fl imsiness of

her empire and the Austrian monarchy. Her subjects did not show much inclination to

remain united under her rule, even when threatened by invading armies. The empire was

only a loose bundle of territories without common purpose or common will. The Prag-

matic Sanction devised by Charles VI, it should be recalled, had been meant not only to

guarantee the Habsburg inheritance against foreign attack but also to secure the assent of

the several parts of the empire to remain united under the woman who became the reigning

Habsburg monarch.

The war of the 1740s led to internal consolidation. The reign of Maria

Theresa set the course of all later development of the Austrian Empire and

hence of the many peoples who lived within its borders. She was aided by a

notable team of ministers, whose origin illustrated the nonnational character

of the Habsburg system. Her most trusted adviser in foreign relations, the astute Kaunitz,

was a Moravian; her main assistants in domestic affairs were a Silesian and a Bohemian-

Czech. They worked smoothly with the German archduchess-queen and with German offi -

cials in Vienna. Their aim was to prevent dissolution of the monarchy by enlarging and

guaranteeing the fl ow of taxes and soldiers. This involved breaking the local control of

territorial nobles in their diets. Hungary, profoundly separatist, was left alone. But the

Bohemian and Austrian provinces were welded together, and a unifi ed state bureaucracy

took the place of local self-government. Offi cials (following the form of mercantilist doc-

trine called “cameralism” in central Europe) planned to augment the economic strength of

the empire by increasing production. They reduced the infl uence of the local guild monop-

olies; suppressed brigandage on the roads; and in 1775 created a tariff union of Bohemia,

Moravia, and the Austrian duchies. This region became the largest area of free trade on the

European continent, because even France was still divided by internal tariffs. Bohemia,

industrially the most advanced part of the empire, benefi ted substantially; one of its cotton

manufacturing plants, at the end of Maria Theresa’s reign, employed 4,000 persons.

The great social fact, both in the Habsburg lands and in all eastern Europe, was the

serfdom into which the rural masses had progressively fallen during the past 200 years.

Serfdom meant that the peasant owed more to the landlord than to the state. The serf

owed labor to the lord, often unspecifi ed in amount or kind. The tendency, so long as the

landlords ruled locally through their diets, was for the serf to do forced labor for six days

a week on the lord’s land. Maria Theresa, from humane motives and also from a desire to

control the manpower from which her armies were recruited, launched a systematic attack

on the institutions of serfdom, which meant also an attack on the landed

aristocracy of the empire. With the diets reduced in power, the protests of

the nobles were less effective; still, the whole agricultural labor system of

her territories was involved, and Maria Theresa proceeded with caution.

Laws were passed against abuse of peasants by lords or their overseers. Other laws regu-

larized the labor obligations, requiring that they be publicly registered and usually limit-

ing them to three days a week. The laws were often evaded. But the peasant was to some

Internal consolidation

of the empire

Attacks on serfdom

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Chapter 8 The Age of Enlightenment330

extent freed from arbitrary exactions of the lord. Maria Theresa accomplished more to

alleviate serfdom than any other ruler of the eighteenth century in eastern Europe, with the

single exception of her own son, Joseph II.

The great archduchess-queen died in 1780, having reigned for 40 years. Her son, who

had been co-regent with his mother since 1765, had little patience with her methods. Maria

Theresa, though steady enough in aim, had always been content with partial measures.

Instead of advertising her purposes by philosophical pronouncements, she disguised or

understated them, never carrying matters to the point of arousing an unmanageable reaction

The restoration of the traditional parlements at the beginning of the reign of Louis XVI was an important political victory for the privileged classes in French society, whose power had been challenged by the Maupeou ministry in the early 1770s. This illustration of the young king at the fi rst session of the restored Parlement of Paris (he occupies the elevated seat on the upper left side of the assembly) offers an early example of his lifelong tendency to align himself with older elites and to oppose reformers who wanted to reduce the power or privileges of the old nobility. The caption lists the royal offi cials and dignitaries who accompanied the king at this meeting of the Parlement in November 1774. (Bibliothèque nationale de France)

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331

or of uniting against her the vested interests that she undermined. She watched and waited.

Joseph II was more impatient. Though he thought the French philosophes frivolous, and

Frederick of Prussia a clever cynic, he was himself a pure representative of

the Age of Enlightenment, and it is in his brief reign of 10 years that the

character and the limitations of enlightened despotism can best be seen. He

was a solemn, earnest, good man, who sensed the misery and hopelessness

of the lowest classes. He believed existing conditions to be bad, and he

would not regulate or improve them; he would end them. Right and reason,

in his mind, lay with the views which he himself adopted; upholders of the old order were

self-seeking or mistaken and to yield to them would be to compromise with evil.

“The state,” said Joseph, anticipating the later Philosophical Radicals in England,

meant “the greatest good for the greatest number.” He acted accordingly. His 10 years of

rule passed in a quick succession of decrees. Maria Theresa had regulated serfdom. Joseph

abolished it. His mother had collected taxes from nobles as well as peasants, though not

equally. Joseph decreed absolute equality of taxation. He insisted on equal punishment for

equal crimes whatever the class status of the offender; an aristocratic army offi cer, who

had stolen 97,000 gulden, was exhibited in the pillory, and Count Podstacky, a forger, was

made to sweep the streets of Vienna chained to common convicts. At the same time many

legal punishments were made less physically cruel. Joseph granted complete liberty of the

press. He ordered toleration of all religions, except for a few popular sects that he thought

too ignorant to allow. He granted equal civil rights to the Jews, and equal duties, making

Jews liable, for the fi rst time in Europe, to service in the army. He even created Jewish

nobles, an amazing phenomenon to those of aristocratic “blood.”

Joseph clashed openly and rudely with the pope. He demanded increased powers in

the appointment and supervision of Catholic bishops, and he suppressed a good many

monasteries, using their property to fi nance secular hospitals in Vienna, and thus laying the

foundations for Viennese excellence as a medical center. He attempted also to develop the

empire economically and built up the port of Trieste, where he even established an East

India Company, which soon failed because neither capital nor naval support was forth-

coming from central Europe. His attempts to reach the sea commercially through Belgium,

like those of his grandfather at the time of the Ostend Company, were blocked by Dutch

and British interests.

To force through his program Joseph had to centralize his state, like earlier rulers,

except that he went further. Regional diets and aristocratic self-government fared even

worse than under his mother. Where she had always sagaciously let Hungary go its own

way, he applied most of his measures to Hungary also—what was right must be right

everywhere. His ideal was a perfectly uniform and rational empire, with all irregularities

smoothed out as if under a modern steamroller. He thought it reasonable to have a single

language for administration and naturally chose German; this led to a program of German-

izing the Czechs, Poles, Magyars, and others, which in turn aroused their strong linguistic

resistance. Using the German language, and pushing the emperor’s program against

regional and class opposition, was a hard-pressed, constantly growing, and increasingly

disciplined body of offi cials. Bureaucracy became recognizably modern, with training

courses, promotion schedules, retirement pensions, effi ciency reports, and visits by inspec-

tors. The clergy likewise were employed as representatives of the state to explain new laws

to their parishioners and teach due respect for the government. To watch over the whole

structure Joseph created a secret police, whose agents, soliciting the confi dential aid of

spies and informers, reported on the performance of government employees or on the ideas

Joseph II: the

“revolutionary

emperor”

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Chapter 8 The Age of Enlightenment332

and actions of nobles, clergy, or others from whom trouble might be expected. The police

state, so infamous to the liberal world, was fi rst systematically built up under Joseph as an

instrument of enlightenment and reform.

Joseph II, the “revolutionary emperor,” anticipated much that was soon done in France

by the Revolution and under Napoleon. He could not abide “feudalism” or “medievalism”;

he personally detested the nobility and the church. But few of his reforms

proved lasting. He died prematurely in 1790, at the age of 49, disillusioned

and broken-hearted. Joseph was a revolutionist without a party or support-

ing political movement. He failed because he could not be everywhere and

do everything himself, and because he was opposed by the most powerful

social groups in his empire. His reign demonstrated the limitations of a merely despotic

enlightenment. It showed that a legally absolute ruler could not really do as he pleased. It

suggested that drastic and abrupt reform could perhaps come only with a true revolution,

on a wave of public opinion, and under the leadership of persons who shared in a coherent

body of ideas.

Joseph was succeeded by his brother Leopold, one of the ablest rulers of the century,

who for many years as grand duke of Tuscany had given that country the best government

known in Italy for generations. Now, in 1790, Leopold was plagued by outcries from his

sister, Marie Antoinette, caught in the turmoil of a real revolution in France. He refused to

interfere in French affairs; in any case, he was busy dealing with the uproar left by Joseph.

He abrogated most of Joseph’s edicts, but he did not yield entirely. The nobles did not

win back full powers in their diets. The peasants were not wholly consigned to the old

serfdom; Joseph’s efforts to provide them with land and to rid them of forced labor had

to be given up, but they remained legally free to migrate, marry, or choose an occupation

at will. Leopold died in 1792 and was followed by his son Francis II. Under Francis the

aristocratic and clerical reaction gathered strength, terrifi ed by the memory of Joseph II

and by the spectacle of revolutionary France, with which Austria went to war soon after

Leopold’s death.

Prussia under Frederick the Great (1740–1786)

In Prussia, Frederick the Great continued to reign for 23 years after the close of the Seven

Years’ War in 1763. “Old Fritz,” as he was called, spent the time peaceably, writing mem-

oirs and histories, rehabilitating his shattered country, promoting agriculture and industry,

replenishing his treasury, drilling his army, and assimilating his huge conquest of Silesia,

and, after 1772, the Polish lands that fell to him in the fi rst partition of Poland. Frederick’s

fame as one of the most eminent of enlightened despots rests, however, not so much on his

actual innovations as on his own intellectual gifts, which were considerable, and on the

admiring publicity that he received from such literary friends as Voltaire. “My chief occu-

pation,” he wrote to Voltaire, “is to fi ght ignorance and prejudices in this country.  .  .  .

I must enlighten my people, cultivate their manners and morals, and make them as happy

as human beings can be, or as happy as the means at my disposal permit.” He did not con-

ceive that sweeping changes were needed for happiness in Prussia. The country was doc-

ile; its Lutheran church had long been subordinate to the state, its relatively few burghers

were largely dependents of the crown, and the independence of the Junker landlords, as

expressed in provincial diets, had been curtailed by Frederick’s predecessors. Frederick

simplifi ed and codifi ed the many laws of the kingdom and made the law courts cheaper,

more expeditious, and more honest. He kept up a wholesome and energetic tone in his civil

Limitations of

Joseph’s reforms

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33337. Enlightened Despotism: Russia

service. He protected religious freedom, and he decreed, though he did not achieve, a

modicum of elementary education for all children of all classes. Prussia under Frederick

was attractive enough for some 300,000 immigrants to seek it out.

But society remained stratifi ed in a way hardly known in the more western parts

of Europe. Nobles, peasants, and burghers lived side by side in a kind of

segregation. Each group paid different taxes and owed different duties

to the state, and no person could buy property of the type owned by one

of the other two groups. Property was legally classifi ed, as well as persons;

there was little movement from one social group to another. These policies

served a specifi c military purpose. They preserved a distinct peasant class from which to

draw soldiers and a distinct aristocratic class from which to draw offi cers. The peasants,

except in the western extremities of the kingdom, were serfs holding patches of land on

precarious terms with obligations to labor on the estates of the lords. They were consid-

ered the lord’s “hereditary subjects” and were not free to leave the lord’s estate, to marry,

or to learn a trade except with his permission. Frederick in his early years considered

steps to relieve the burden of serfdom. He did relieve it on his own manors, those belong-

ing to the Prussian crown domain, which comprised a quarter of the area of the kingdom.

But he did nothing for serfs belonging to the private landlords or Junkers. No king of

Prussia could antagonize the Junker class, which commanded the army. On the other

hand, even in Prussia, the existence of a monarchical state was of some advantage for the

common person; the serf in Prussia was not so badly off as in adjoining areas—Poland,

Livonia, Mecklenburg, or Swedish Pomerania—where the will of the landlords was the

law of the land, and which therefore have been called Junker republics. In these countries

cases came to light in which owners sold their serfs as movable property or gambled or

gave them away, breaking up families in the process, as Russian landlords might do with

their serfs or American plantation owners with their slaves. Such abuses were unknown

in Prussia.

Frederick’s system was centralized not merely at Potsdam but in his own head.

He himself attended to all business and made all important decisions. None of his ministers

or generals ever achieved an independent reputation. As he said of his army, “no one rea-

sons, everyone executes”—that is, no one reasoned except the king himself. Or again, as

Frederick put it, if Newton had had to consult with Descartes he would never have discov-

ered the law of universal gravitation. To have to take into account other people’s ideas, or

to entrust responsibilities to people less capable than himself, seemed to Frederick waste-

ful and anarchic. He died in 1786, after ruling 46 years and having trained no successors.

Twenty years later Prussia was all but destroyed by Napoleon. It was not surprising that

Napoleon should defeat Prussia, but Europe was amazed, in 1806, to see Prussia collapse

so totally and abruptly. It was then concluded in Prussia and elsewhere that government by

a mastermind working in lofty and isolated superiority did not offer a viable state system

under modern conditions.

37. ENLIGHTENED DESPOTISM: RUSSIA

The Russian Empire has long been out of sight in the preceding pages. There are reasons

for its absence, for it played no part in the intellectual revolution of the seventeenth cen-

tury, and its role in the early modern struggle for wealth and empire, which reached a cli-

max in the Seven Years’ War, was somewhat incidental. In the Age of Enlightenment the

role of Russia was passive. No Russian thinker was known to western Europe, but western

Social stratifi cation

in Prussia

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Chapter 8 The Age of Enlightenment334

European thinkers were well known in Russia. The French-dominated cosmopolitan cul-

ture of the European upper classes spread to the upper classes of Russia. The Russian court

and aristocracy took over French as their common conversational language.

With French (German was also known, and sometimes English, for the

Russian aristocrats were remarkable linguists) all the ideas boiling up in

western Europe streamed into Russia. The Enlightenment, if it did not

affect Russia profoundly, affected it signifi cantly. It extended the European

infl uence so forcibly pushed forward by Peter and carried further the estrangement of the

Russian upper classes from their own people and their own native scene.

Russia after Peter the Great

Peter the Great died in 1725. To secure his revolution he had decreed that each tsar should

name his successor, but he himself had named none and had put to death his own son

Alexis to prevent social reaction. Peter’s long reign was therefore followed by a period of

political instability. Rival factions at court—a German party and a native Russian party—

struggled for control over successive tsars, tsarinas, and short-lived governments until a

palace revolution in 1741 brought to the throne Peter the Great’s daughter, Elizabeth, who

managed to hold power until her death 21 years later. Russian military power expanded

during her reign; and she entered into European diplomacy and joined in the Seven Years’

War against Prussia, fearing that the continued growth of Prussia would endanger the new

Russian position on the Baltic. Her nephew, Peter III, was almost immediately dethroned,

and probably assassinated, by a group acting in the name of his young wife Catherine. The

victorious coterie claimed that Peter III had been almost a half-wit, who at the age of 24

still played with paper soldiers. Using such rumors to justify her rise to power, Catherine

was proclaimed the Empress Catherine II and later came to be called “the Great.” She

enjoyed a long reign from 1762 to 1796, during which she acquired a somewhat exagger-

ated reputation as an enlightened despot.

The names of the tsars and tsarinas between Peter I and Catherine II are of slight

importance, but their violent and rapid sequence tells a story. With no principle of suc-

cession, dynastic or other, the empire fell into a lawless struggle of parties, in which plots

against ruling tsars alternated with palace revolutions upon their death. In all the confu-

sion an underlying issue was always how Peter’s European reform program would turn

out. Although Russia’s social elites were becoming more “European,” most people in

western Europe still viewed Russia as an alien and remote place on the distant frontier of

European culture.

Catherine the Great (1762–1796): Domestic Program

Catherine the Great was a German woman of a small princely house of the Holy Roman

Empire. She had gone to Russia at the age of 15 to be married. She had immediately culti-

vated the goodwill of the Russians, learned the language, and embraced the Orthodox

church. Early in her married life, disgusted with her husband, she foresaw the chance of

becoming empress herself. Like the other prominent woman ruler of this era in Europe,

Maria Theresa, she approached political issues with a strong practical sense and great

energy (though she did not share Maria Theresa’s devotion to family life). Catherine’s

intellectual powers were as remarkable as her physical vigor; even after becoming empress

she often got up at fi ve in the morning, lit her own fi re, and turned to her books, making a

Russia absorbs

French culture

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335

digest, for example, of Blackstone’s Commentaries on the Laws of England, published in 1765. She corresponded with Voltaire and invited Diderot, editor of the Encyclopédie, to visit her at St. Petersburg, where, she reported, he thumped her so hard on the knee in the

energy of his conversation that she had to put a table between them. She bought Diderot’s

library, allowing him to keep it during his lifetime, and in other ways won international

renown by her benefactions to the philosophes, whom she regarded as useful press agents

for Russia.

When she fi rst came to power, she publicized an intention to introduce

certain enlightened reforms. She summoned a great consultative assembly,

called a Legislative Commission, which met in 1767. From its numerous

proposals Catherine obtained a good deal of information on conditions in the country and

concluded, from the profuse loyalty exhibited by the deputies, that though a usurper and a

foreigner she possessed a strong hold upon Russia. She subsequently enacted reforms that

included a new legal codifi cation, restrictions on the use of torture, and a certain support of

religious toleration, though she would not allow Old Believers to build their own chapels.

Such innovations were enough to raise an admiring chorus from the philosophes, who saw

in her, as they saw retrospectively in Peter the Great, the standard-bearer of an enlightened

civilization among a backward people.

Whatever ideas Catherine may conceivably have had at fi rst, as a thoughtful and pro-

gressive young woman, on the fundamental subject of reforming serfdom in Russia, did

not last long after she became empress; and there was no consideration of reform after the

great peasant insurrection of 1773, known as Pugachev’s rebellion. The condition of the

Russian serfs was deteriorating. Serf owners were increasingly selling them apart from

the land, breaking up families, using them in mines or manufactures, disciplining and pun-

ishing them at will, or exiling them to Siberia. The serf population was restless, worked

upon by the religious warnings of Old Believers and cherishing distorted popular memo-

ries of the mighty hero, Stephen Razin, who a century before had led an uprising against

the landlords. Class antagonism, though latent, was profound, and it may have grown

when the rough muzhik, in some places, heard the lord and his family talking French so as

not to be understood by the servants or saw them wearing European clothes, reading Euro-

pean books, and adopting the manners of a foreign way of life.

In 1773 a Don Cossack, Emelian Pugachev, a former soldier, appeared

at the head of an insurrection in the Urals. Following an old Russian cus-

tom, he announced himself as the true tsar, Peter III (Catherine’s deceased

husband), now returned after long travels in Egypt and the Holy Land. He surrounded

himself with his own imperial family, courtiers, and even a secretary of state, He issued an

imperial manifesto proclaiming the end of serfdom, taxes, and military conscription. Tens

of hundreds of thousands, in the Urals and Volga regions, Tartars, Kirghiz, Cossacks, agri-

cultural serfs, servile workers in the Ural mines, fi shermen in the rivers and in the Caspian

Sea, fl ocked to Pugachev’s banner. The great host surged through eastern Russia, burning

and pillaging, killing priests and landlords. The upper classes in Moscow were terrifi ed;

100,000 serfs lived in the city as domestic servants or industrial workers and their sym-

pathies went out to Pugachev and his militant supporters. Armies sent against him were

at fi rst unsuccessful. But famine along the Volga in 1774 dispersed the rebels. Pugachev,

betrayed by some of his own followers, was brought to Moscow in an iron cage. Catherine

forbade the use of torture at his trial, but he was executed by the drawing and quartering of

his body, a punishment, it should perhaps be noted, used at the time in western Europe in

cases of fl agrant treason.

Catherine’s reforms

Pugachev’s rebellion

37. Enlightened Despotism: Russia

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Chapter 8 The Age of Enlightenment336

Pugachev’s rebellion was the most violent peasant uprising in the history of Russia,

and the most formidable mass upheaval in Europe in the century before 1789. Catherine

replied to it by repression. She conceded more powers to the landlords. The nobles shook

off the last vestiges of the compulsory state service to which Peter had bound them. The

peasants were henceforth the only bound or unfree class. As in Prussia, the state came

more than ever to rest on an understanding between ruler and gentry, by which the gentry

accepted the monarchy, with its laws, offi cials, army, and foreign policy, and received

from it, in return, the assurance of full authority over the rural masses. Government reached

down through the aristocracy and the scattered towns, but it stopped short at the manor;

there the lord took over and was himself a kind of government in his own person. Under

these conditions the number of serfs increased, and the load on each became heavier.

Catherine’s reign saw the culmination of Russian serfdom, which now ceased to differ

in any important respect from the chattel slavery that controlled the lives of enslaved

blacks in the Americas. One might read in the Moscow Gazette such advertisements as the following: “For sale, two plump coachmen; two girls 18 and 15 years, quick at manual

work. Two barbers; one, 21, knows how to read and write and play a musical instrument;

the other can do ladies’ and gentlemen’s hair.”

Catherine the Great: Foreign Affairs

Territorially Catherine was one of the main builders of modern Russia. When she became

tsarina in 1762, the empire reached to the Pacifi c and into central Asia, and it touched upon

the Gulf of Riga and the Gulf of Finland on the Baltic, but westward from Moscow one

CATHERINE THE GREAT by Alexander Roslin (Swedish, 1718–1793)

Catherine’s forceful character and slightly whimsical smile are represented in this portrait, which was painted shortly after the powerful tsarina sup- pressed the great peasant rebellion of 1773–1774. (Bridgeman-Giraudon/Art Resource, NY)

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337

could go only 200 miles before reaching Poland, and no one standing on Russian soil could

see the waters of the Black Sea (see maps, pp. 230–231). Russia was separated from cen-

tral Europe by a wide band of loosely organized domains, extending from the Baltic to the

Black Sea and the Mediterranean and nominally belonging to the Polish and Turkish states.

Poland was an old enemy, which had once threatened Muscovy, and in both Poland and the

Ottoman Empire there were many Greek Orthodox Christians with whom Russians felt an

ideological tie.

Catherine’s supreme plan was to penetrate the entire area, Polish and

Ottoman territories alike. In a war with the Ottoman Empire in 1772 she

developed her “Greek project,” in which “Greeks,” that is, members of the

Greek Orthodox Church, would replace Muslims as the dominant element throughout the

Middle East. She defeated the Ottoman forces in the war, but was herself checked by the

diplomatic pressures of the European balance of power. The result was the fi rst partition

of Poland—a seizure of land and people in which the monarchs of Prussia, Russia, and

Austria began to divide up Polish territory between them. Frederick took Pomerelia,

which he renamed West Prussia; Catherine took parts of Byelorussia; Maria Theresa

occupied Galicia. Frederick digested his portion with relish, realizing an old dream of the

Brandenburg house; Catherine swallowed hers with somewhat less appetite, because she

had satisfactorily controlled the whole of Poland before; to Maria Theresa the dish was

distasteful, and even shocking, but she could not see her neighbors go ahead without her,

and she shared in the feast by suppressing her moral scruples. “She wept,” said Frederick

cynically, “but she kept on taking.” Catherine, in 1774, signed a peace treaty with the

defeated Turks. This treaty opened opportunities for Russian expansion around the Black

Sea, where the Ottoman sultan ceded control of Tartar principalities on the north coast and

where the Russians soon founded the seaport of Odessa.

Territorial expansion

Emelian Pugachev, leader of the most violent, widespread peasant uprising in Russian history, was held in an iron cage before his trial and execution for treason. (Bibliotheque des Arts Decoratifs, Paris, France/

Archives Charmet/The Bridgeman Art Library)

37. Enlightened Despotism: Russia

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Chapter 8 The Age of Enlightenment338

Catherine had only delayed, not altered, her plans with respect to Ottoman Turkey.

She decided to neutralize the opposition of Austria. She invited Joseph II to visit her in

Russia, and the two sovereigns proceeded together on a tour of her newly won Black Sea

provinces. Her long-time adviser and lover, Grigory Potemkin, accompanied Catherine

on this tour, which included visits to numerous towns and fortresses that Potemkin had

established in the Crimea. Although the Russians had actually made signifi cant progress in

developing the region, Potemkin’s enemies claimed that the new towns were nothing but a

facade—thus creating the famous phrase “Potemkin villages” to mean bogus evidence of

a nonexistent prosperity. But Catherine achieved her main goal when Joseph II agreed to

bring Austria into a war of conquest against the Ottoman Empire.

This war was interrupted by the French Revolution, however, and both governments

reduced their commitments in the Balkans to await developments in western Europe. It

became Catherine’s policy to incite Austria and Prussia into a war with revolutionary

France, in the name of monarchy and civilization, in order that she might have a free hand

in the Polish-Turkish sphere. Meanwhile she contributed to a collective assault on the

nationalist and reforming movement among the Poles. In 1793 she arranged with Prussia

for the second partition, and in 1795, with both Prussia and Austria, for the third. She was

the only ruler who lived to take part in all three partitions of Poland (which

are described later in this chapter).

Her protestations of enlightenment tempt one to an ironic judgment

of her career. Her foreign policy was purely expansionist and unscrupu-

lous, and the net effect of her domestic policy, aside from a few reforms of

detail, was to favor the half-Europeanized aristocracy and to extend serfdom among the

people. In her defense it may be observed that unscrupulous expansion was the accepted

practice of the time, and that, domestically, probably no ruler could have corrected the

social evils from which Russia suffered. If there was to be a Russian Empire, it had to be

with the consent of the serf-owning gentry, which was the only articulate and politically

signifi cant class. As Catherine observed to Diderot on the subject of reforms: “You write

only on paper, but I have to write on human skin, which is incomparably more irritable

and ticklish.” She had reason to know how easily tsars and tsarinas could be unseated and

even murdered and that the danger for tsars came not from the peasants but from cliques of

army offi cers and landlords.

Yet she remained attuned to western Europe. She never thought that Russian insti-

tutions should become a model for others. She continued to recognize the standards of

the Enlightenment. In her later years she gave careful attention to her favorite grandson,

Alexander, closely supervising his education, which she planned on the western European

model. She gave him as a tutor the Swiss philosophe La Harpe, who fi lled his mind with

humane and liberal sentiments on the duties of princes. Trained by Catherine as a kind of

ideal ruler, Alexander I was destined to cut a wide circle in the affairs of Europe, to help

defeat Napoleon Bonaparte, to preach peace and freedom, and to suffer from the same

internal cultural divisions and frustrations by which European-educated Russians were

often affl icted.

The Limitations of Enlightened Despotism

Enlightened despotism, seen in retrospect, foreshadowed an age of revolutionary changes

and even signifi ed a preliminary effort to revolutionize society by authoritative action from

above. People were told by their own governments that reforms were needed, that many

Catherine’s reign

evaluated

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33938. The Partitions of Poland

privileges, special liberties, or tax exemptions were bad, that the past was a source of

confusion, injustice, or ineffi ciency in the present. The state rose up as more completely

sovereign, whether acting frankly in its own interest or claiming to act in the interest of its

people. All old and established rights were brought into question—rights of kingdoms and

provinces, orders and classes, legal bodies and corporate groups. Enlightened despotism

overrode or exterminated the Society of Jesus, the Parlement of Paris, the autonomy of

Bohemia, and the independence of Poland. Customary and common law was pushed aside

by authoritative legal codes. Governments, by opposing the special powers of the church

and the nobility tended to make all persons into uniform and equal subjects. To this extent

enlightened despotism favored equality before the law. But it could go only a certain dis-

tance in this direction. The king was after all a hereditary aristocrat himself, and no gov-

ernment can be revolutionary to the point of breaking up its own foundations.

Even before the French Revolution enlightened despotism had run its course. Every-

where the “despots,” for reasons of politics if not of principle, had reached a point beyond

which they could not go. In France Louis XVI had appeased the privileged classes; in the

Austrian Empire Joseph’s failure to appease them threw them into open revolt; in Prussia

and in Russia the brilliant reigns of Frederick and Catherine actually increased the power

of landlordism for most people in the countryside. Almost everywhere there was an aris-

tocratic and even feudal resurgence. Religion also was renewing itself in many places.

Many were again saying that kingship was in a sense divine, and a new alliance was

forming between “the throne and the altar.” The French Revolution, by terrifying the old

vested interests, was to accelerate and embitter an aristocratic and monarchical reaction

that had already begun. Monarchy in Europe, ever since the Middle Ages, had generally

been a centralizing but progressive institution that set itself against the feudal and eccle-

siastical powers. Enlightened despotism was the culmination of the historic development

of European monarchies. After the enlightened despots, and after the French Revolution,

monarchy became on the whole nostalgic and backward-looking, supported most ardently

by the churches and aristocracies that it had once tried to subdue and least of all by those

who felt in themselves the surge of the future.

38. THE PARTITIONS OF POLAND

The fate of eighteenth-century Poland has been mentioned as a consequence of the growing

power of the newer Central European monarchies, but the partitions of Polish territories

also illustrate the assumptions and practices of the so-called enlightened despots. Apart

from the still somewhat non-European state of Russia, Poland in the eighteenth century

was by far the largest state in Europe. It reached at the beginning of the century from

the Baltic almost to the Black Sea and extended eastward for 800 miles across the north-

European plain. But it was the classic example, along with the Holy Roman Empire, of an

older political structure that failed to develop modern, centralizing government institutions

(see maps, pp. 199, 200). It fell into ever deeper anarchy and confusion. Without army,

revenues, or administration and internally divided among parties forever at cross-purposes,

the country was a perpetual theater for foreign diplomatic maneuvering and was fi nally

absorbed into the territories of its growing neighbors.

The Polish kings were chosen in elections that became an object of regular interna-

tional interference. A movement for reform therefore began to gather strength after the

1730s, and Polish patriots sought to do away with the liberum veto and other elements in the constitution that made government impossible. The reformers were repeatedly frustrated,

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Chapter 8 The Age of Enlightenment340

however, by the infl uence of Catherine the Great and other foreign rulers

who preferred a Poland in which they could intervene at will. Catherine’s

candidate for the Polish throne, Stanislas Poniatowski, won an election in

1763, thereby giving her new infl uence over Poland’s domestic affairs. She

declared herself protector of the Polish liberties. It was to the Russian advantage to maintain

the existing state of affairs in Poland rather than to divide the country with neighbors who

might exclude Russian infl uence from their own spheres. The Prussian government, which

was eager to join the old duchy of Prussia with its other territories in the east, developed a

greater interest in dividing Poland as a means to enhance its own strategic position.

The opportunity for Prussia presented itself in 1772, when Russia’s war with Ottoman

Turkey destabilized the situation in eastern Europe. The Russian victories in this war were

so overwhelming that both Austrians and Prussians feared an enduring Russian disruption

of the balance of power. The Prussians therefore came forward with a proposal to prevent

an Austro-Russian war and to preserve the balance in eastern Europe by leaving the Otto-

man Empire more or less intact. Looking for an alternative to Russian expansion into

Ottoman lands, the Prussians proposed that all three European powers should annex terri-

tory from Poland instead. The proposition was accepted by all three parties.

Poland was thus sacrifi ced. By the fi rst partition in 1772, its outer territories were

cut away. Russia took an eastern slice around the city of Vitebsk. Austria took a southern

slice, the region known as Galicia. Prussia realized its territorial ambitions by taking the

Pomerelian borderland in West Prussia and creating a solid Prussian block from the Elbe

to the borders of Lithuania (see map, p. 214, panel 4). The partition sobered the Poles, who

renewed their efforts at a national revival, hoping to create an effective sovereignty that

could secure the country against outsiders. But the Polish movement lacked deep popular

strength, for it was confi ned mainly to nobles, whose confl icts had brought the country to

ruin. The mass of the serf population and the numerous Jews did not much care at this time

whether they were governed by Poles, Russians, or Germans.

Nevertheless, beginning in 1788, a reform party gathered strength. One of its mem-

bers was King Stanislas Poniatowski himself, who had begun his reign as a protégé of

the Russian empress. The reformers produced a new constitution in 1791. It made the

Polish kingship hereditary, thus strengthening the executive government, and it reduced

the powers of the great magnates while giving political rights to many burghers in the

towns. By this time, however, the governments of eastern Europe were afraid of the French

Revolution. Denouncing the Polish reformers as French-inspired Jacobins, Catherine the

Great said she would “fi ght Jacobinism and beat it in Poland.” In collusion with a few

disgruntled Polish noblemen she sent an army into Poland and destroyed the constitution

of 1791. In agreement with Prussia she then carried out the Second Partition in 1793. In

1794 Thaddeus Kosciusko led a more revolutionary political movement, which included

even a proposed abolition of serfdom. Although it received no aid from the revolutionaries

then governing France, it was crushed in the general European counterrevolution when

Russian and Prussian armies again invaded Poland, defeated Kosciusko, and in a Third

Partition in 1795 divided what remained of the country among themselves and Austria.

Poland as a political entity ceased to exist.

Many advanced thinkers of the day praised the partitions of Poland as a triumph of

enlightened rulers, putting an end to an old nuisance. The three partitioning powers justifi ed

their conduct on various grounds and even took pride in it as an enlightened diplomatic

achievement by which they had prevented war among themselves. It was argued also that

the partitions of Poland put an end to an old cause of international rivalry and war, replacing

anarchy with more stable governments in a large area of eastern Europe. It is a fact that

Interference in Polish

elections

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341

Poland had been scarcely more independent before the partitions than after. It is to be noted

also, though nationalist arguments were not used at the time, that on national grounds the

Poles themselves had no claim to large parts of the old Poland. The regions taken by Russia

were inhabited overwhelmingly by Byelorussians and Ukrainians, among

whom the Poles were mainly a landlord class. Russia, even after the third

partition, reached only to the true ethnic border of Poland. But later, after the

fall of Napoleon, by general international agreement, the Russian sphere

was extended deep into the territory inhabited by Poles.

The partitions of Poland, however extenuated, were nevertheless a great shock to the

old system of Europe. Edmund Burke, in England, prophetically saw in the fi rst partition

the crumbling of the old international order. His diagnosis was a shrewd one. The prin-

ciple of the balance of power had been historically invoked to preserve the independence

of European states and to secure weak or small ones against universal monarchy. It was

now used to destroy the independence of a weak but ancient kingdom. Poland was not the

fi rst European kingdom to be “partitioned,” but it was the fi rst to be partitioned without

war and the fi rst to disappear totally. That Poland was partitioned without war, a source of

great satisfaction to the partitioning powers, was still a very unsettling fact. It was alarm-

ing for a huge state to vanish simply by cold diplomatic calculation. It seemed that no

established rights were safe even in peacetime. The partitions of Poland showed that in a

world where great powers had arisen through control of a modern state apparatus it was

dangerous not to be strong. They suggested that any area failing to develop a sovereign

state capable of keeping out foreign infi ltration, and so situated as to be within the reach of

the great powers of Europe, was unlikely to retain its independence. In this way the history

of eighteenth-century Poland anticipated, for example, the partitions of Africa a century

later, when Africa too, lacking strong governments, was almost totally divided, without

war, among half a dozen states of Europe.

Moreover the partitions of Poland, while maintaining a balance of power in eastern

Europe, profoundly changed the balance of Europe as a whole. The disappearance of

Poland was a blow to France, which had long used Poland, as it had used Hungary and

Turkey, as an outpost of French infl uence in eastern Europe. The three eastern powers

expanded their territory, while France enjoyed henceforth no permanent growth. Eastern

Europe bulked larger than ever before in the affairs of Europe. Prussia, Russia, and the

Austrian Empire became contiguous. Although they had drawn somewhat differently on

western European methods of statecraft and military organization to build their power, they

had a common interest and objective in eastern Europe: the repression of Polish resistance

to their rule. Polish resistance, dating from before the partitions and continuing thereafter,

became the earliest example of modern revolutionary nationalism in Europe.

The independence of Poland, and of other submerged nationalities, later attracted wide

support in western Europe, while the three great monarchies of eastern Europe were drawn

together in common opposition to national liberation; this fact, plus the fact that the eastern

monarchies were primarily landlord states, accentuated the political and social division of

Europe in the nineteenth century between a western Europe that inclined to be liberal and an

eastern Europe that inclined to be reactionary. The subsequent political divergence of west-

ern and eastern Europe might therefore be compared to the earlier north–south religious

divergence of Protestant and Catholic states, in that both the political and the religious dif-

ferences contributed to the fragmentation of Europe and to the emerging nationalisms that

would later shape the major, modern European confl icts. The fi rst great political assault on

the older social order and political system in eighteenth-century Europe, however, came

from the enlightened despots who destroyed the kingdom of Poland.

Debate over the

partitions

38. The Partitions of Poland

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Chapter 8 The Age of Enlightenment342

POLAND SINCE THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY The top panel shows, in simpli- fi ed form, the ethnic compo- sition of the area included in the Poland of 1772. In addition to languages shown, Yiddish was spoken by the large scat- tered Jewish population. The line set in 1795 as the western boundary of Russia persists through later changes. It reap- pears as the eastern border of Napoleon’s Grand Duchy and of Congress Poland. After the First World War the victori- ous Allies contemplated much this same line as Poland’s east- ern frontier (the dotted line in the fourth panel, known as the Curzon Line); but the Poles in 1920–1921 conquered territory farther east. After the Second World War the Russians pushed the Poles back to the same basic line, but com- pensated Poland with territory taken from Germany, as far west as the river Oder and its tributary, the Neisse. The posi- tion of Warsaw in each panel shows how Poland has been shoved westward.

Baltic Sea Smolensk

Stettin

Warsaw

Polish

Lithuanian

Latvian

Byelorussian

Ukrainian

German

Languages

Baltic Sea EAST

PRUSSIA

RUSSIA

AUSTRIA

PRUSSIA

Smolensk

Stettin

WarsawTo Russia

To Prussia

To Austria

1660 Boundary

The Three Partitions

1772 1793 1795

Baltic Sea

PR US

SIA

RUSSIA

AUSTRIA

Smolensk

Stettin

Warsaw

Grand Duchy of Warsaw, 1808–1814

Congress Poland, 1815–1831

1772 Boundary

During and After the Napoleonic Era

1808–1831

Baltic Sea

SOVIET UNIONGERMANY

CZECHOSLOVAKIA

Smolensk

Stettin

Warsaw

Poland, 1922–1939

Curzon Line, 1919

1772 Boundary

Poland After World War I

Baltic Sea

SOVIET UNION

EAST GERMANY

CZECHOSLOVAKIA

Smolensk

Stettin

Warsaw

Poland After World War II

1772 Boundary

Poland After World War II

0 100 200 300 miles

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34339. New Stirrings: The British Reform Movement

39. NEW STIRRINGS: THE BRITISH REFORM MOVEMENT

It was not only by monarchs and their ministers that the older privileged, feudal, and eccle-

siastical interests were threatened. Beginning about 1760 they were challenged also by

broader-based political and social groups. Growing out of the Enlightenment, and out of

the failure of governments to cope with grave social and fi scal problems, a new era of

revolutionary disturbance was about to open. It was marked above all by the great French

Revolution of 1789, but the American Revolution of 1776 was also of international impor-

tance. In Great Britain, too, the long-drawn-out movement for parliamentary reform that

began in the 1760s was in effect revolutionary in character, though nonviolent, because it

questioned the foundations of traditional English government and society. In addition, in

the last third of the eighteenth century, there was revolutionary agitation in Switzerland,

Belgium, and Holland, in Ireland, Poland, Hungary, Italy, and in lesser degree elsewhere.

After 1800 revolutionary ferment was increasingly evident in Germany, Spain, and Latin

America. This general wave of revolution in Europe and the Atlantic world may be said

not to have ended until the revolutions of 1848 or even until the later consolidation of

modern national states around 1870.

Onset of an Age of “Democratic Revolution”

For the whole period the term “Atlantic Revolution” has sometimes been used, because

countries on both sides of the Atlantic were affected. It has been called also

an age of “Democratic Revolution,” because in all the diversity of these

upheavals, from the American Revolution to those of the mid-nineteenth

century, certain principles of the modern democratic society were in one

way or another affi rmed. In this view, the particular revolutions, attempted

revolutions, or basic reform movements are seen as aspects of one great revolutionary wave

by which virtually the whole area of Western civilization was transformed. There is also

another view of this revolutionary age, namely, that each country presented a special case,

which can be misunderstood if specifi c national events are described only as part of a vague

general international turmoil. Thus the American Revolution, it is argued, was essentially

a movement for independence, conservative in its objectives, and entirely different from

the French Revolution, in which a thorough renovation of all society and ideas was con-

templated; and both were utterly different from what happened in England, where there was

no revolution at all. It need only be stressed here, however, that the American revolutionar-

ies, the French Jacobins, the United Irish, the Dutch Patriots, and similar groups, though

differing from each other, shared much in common that can only be characterized as revo-

lutionary and as contributing to a revolutionary age in the Atlantic world.

It is important to see in what ways the movement that began about 1760 was and was

not “democratic.” It did not generally demand universal suffrage, though a handful of per-

sons in England made such demands as early as the 1770s and some of the American states

practiced an almost universal male suffrage after 1776, as did the more militant French

revolutionaries in 1792. It did not aim at a welfare state, nor question the right of property,

though there were signs pointing in these directions in the most extreme wing of the French

Revolution. It was not especially directed against monarchy as such. The quarrel of the

colonial Americans was primarily with the British Parliament, not the king; the French

proclaimed a republic by default in 1792, three years after their revolution began; the

“Age of Democratic

Revolution”

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Chapter 8 The Age of Enlightenment344

revolutionary Poles after 1788 tried to strengthen their king’s position, not weaken it; and

revolutionary groups could come into action where no monarchy existed at all, as in the

Dutch provinces before the French Revolution, and the Swiss cantons, the Venetian

Republic, or again in Holland, under French infl uence after 1795. Indeed the fi rst revolu-

tionary outbreak of the period occurred in 1768 at Geneva, a very nonmonarchical small

city-republic, ruled by a close-knit circle of hereditary patricians. Royal power, where it

existed, became the victim of revolutionaries only where it was used to support various

privileged social groups.

The revolutionary movement announced itself everywhere as a demand

for “liberty and equality.” It favored declarations of rights and explicit writ-

ten constitutions. It proclaimed the sovereignty of the people, or “nation,”

and it formulated the idea of national citizenship. In this context the

“people” were essentially classless; it was a legal term, signifying not government but the

community over which public authority was exercised and from which government itself

was in principle derived. To say that citizens were equal meant originally that there was no

difference between noble and commoner—a radical idea in societies that had always made

legal distinctions between persons in different social categories. To say that the people were

sovereign meant that neither the king, nor the British Parliament, nor any group of nobles,

patricians, regents, or other elite possessed power of government in their own right; that all

public offi cers were removable and exercised a delegated authority within limits defi ned

by the constitution. There must be no “magistrate” above the people, no self-perpetuation

in offi ce, no rank derived from birth and acknowledged in the law. Social distinctions, as

the French said in their Declaration of Rights of 1789, were to be based only “on common

utility.” Elites of talent or function there might be, but none of birth, privilege, or estate.

“Aristocracy” in every form must be shunned. In representative bodies, there could be no

special representation for special groups; representatives should be elected by frequent

elections, not indeed by universal suffrage, but by a body of voters, however defi ned, in

which each voter should count for one in a system of equal representation. Representation

by numbers, with majority rule, replaced the older idea of representation of social classes,

privileged towns, or other corporate groups.

In short, everything associated with absolutism, feudalism, or inherited rights (except

the right of property) was repudiated. Likewise rejected was any connection between reli-

gion and citizenship, or civil rights. The Democratic Revolution undermined the special

position of the Catholic Church in France, the Anglican in England and Ireland, and the

Dutch Reformed in the United Provinces. This was also the great period of what has been

called Jewish “emancipation,” which gave Jews political and social rights that had been

denied to them throughout the Middle Ages and early modern era. The whole idea that

government, or any human authority, was somehow willed by God and protected by reli-

gion faded away. A general liberty of opinion on all subjects was countenanced, in the

belief that it was necessary to progress. Here again the secularism of the Enlightenment

was carried from science and philosophy into many of the new political and cultural insti-

tutions that emerged during this era of revolutionary change.

On the whole, the Democratic Revolution was a middle-class movement, and indeed

the term “bourgeois revolution” was later invented to describe it. Many of its leaders in

Europe, however, were in fact nobles who were willing to forgo the historic privileges of

nobility; and many of its active supporters were of the poorer classes, especially in the

great French Revolution. But the middle classes were the great benefi ciaries, and new

middle-class or bourgeois societies generally emerged from the revolutionary upheavals.

Liberty and equality

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345

Persons of noble ancestry continued to exist after the storm was over, but the social and

political world of noble hierarchies was gone. Nobles henceforth either took part in vari-

ous activities on much the same terms as others or retreated into exclusive drawing rooms

to enjoy their aristocratic distinctions in private. The main drive of the working classes was

still to come.

The English-Speaking Countries: Parliament and Reform

If the American Revolution was the fi rst act of a larger social and political drama, it must

be understood also in connection with the broader British world of which the American

colonies formed a part. The British Empire in the middle of the century was decentralized

and composite. Thirty-one governments were directly subordinate to Westminster, rang-

ing from the separate kingdom of Ireland through all the crown and charter colonies to

the various political establishments maintained in Asia by the East India Company. The

whole empire, with about 15,000,000 people of all colors in 1750, was less populous than

France or the Austrian monarchy. The whole tract of the American mainland from Georgia

to Nova Scotia compared in the number of its European or white population with Ireland

or Scotland—or with Brittany or Bohemia—a fi gure of about 2,000,000 being roughly

applicable in each case.

Britain had its own way of passing through the Age of Enlightenment. There was

general contentment with the arrangements that followed the English Revolution of

1688—it has often been remarked that nothing is so conservative as a successful revolu-

tion. British thought generally lacked the asperity of thought on the Continent. The writers

who most resembled French philosophes, such as the Scottish philosopher David Hume

and the English historian Edward Gibbon, were moderate in their political ideas. The

prevailing mood, however, was one of complacency, a self-satisfaction in the glories of

the unwritten British constitution by which Englishmen enjoyed liberties unknown on

the Continent.

In Britain, Parliament was as supreme as the monarchs in most Conti-

nental countries. The British Parliament was indeed more sovereign than

any European ruler, because less that could be called “feudalism” remained

in England than on the Continent. Nor was there any political “despotism”

in England, enlightened or otherwise. The young George III, who inherited the throne in

1760, did feel himself to be a “patriot king.” He did wish to heighten the infl uence of the

crown and to overcome the factionalism of parties. But it was through Parliament that he

had to work. He had to descend into the political arena himself, buy up or otherwise con-

trol votes in the Commons, grant pensions and favors, and make promises and deals with

other parliamentary politicians. What he did in effect was to create a new faction, the

“king’s friends.” This faction was in power during the ministry of Lord North from 1770

to 1782. It is worth noting that all factions were factions of Whigs, that the Tory Party was

practically defunct, that Britain did not yet have a two-party system, and that the word

“Tory,” as it came to be used by American revolutionaries, was little more than a term

of abuse.

While Parliament was supreme, and constitutional questions appar-

ently settled, there were nevertheless numerous undercurrents of discon-

tent. These were expressed, because the press was freer in England than

elsewhere, in many books and pamphlets that were read in the American colonies and

helped to form the psychology of the American Revolution. There was, for example, a

The monarchy in

Great Britain

English discontent

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Chapter 8 The Age of Enlightenment346

school of Anglo-Irish Protestant writers who argued that because Ireland was in any case a

separate kingdom, with its own parliament, it ought to be less dependent on the central

government at Westminster. The possibility of a similar separate state remaining within the

British Empire, was one of the alternatives considered by Americans before they settled on

independence. In England there was the considerable body of Dissenters, or Protestants

not accepting the Church of England, who had enjoyed religious toleration since 1689 but

continued to labor (until 1828) under various forms of political exclusion. They overlapped

with two other amorphous groups, a small number of “commonwealthmen” and a larger

and growing number of parliamentary reformers. The commonwealthmen, increasingly

eccentric and largely ignored, looked back nostalgically to the Puritan Revolution and the

republican era of Oliver Cromwell. They kept alive memories of the Levellers and ideals of

equality, well mixed with a pseudo-history of a simple Anglo-Saxon England that had been

crushed by the despotism of the Norman Conquest. They had less infl uence in England

than in the American colonies and especially New England, whose origins were closely

connected to the Puritan Revolution. The parliamentary reformers were a more diverse and

infl uential group. They were condemned in the eighteenth century to repeated frustration;

not until the First Reform Bill of 1832 did they begin to accomplish

their goals.

The very power of Parliament meant that political leaders had to take

strong measures to assure its votes—measures that were generally

denounced by their critics as “corruption.” Control of Parliament, and espe-

cially of the House of Commons, was sustained by various devices, such as patronage or

the giving of government jobs (called “places”), or awarding contracts, or having infre-

quent general elections (every seven years after 1716); or the fact that in many constituen-

cies there were no real elections at all. The distribution of seats in the Commons bore no

relation to numbers of inhabitants. A town having the right to send members to Parliament

was called a “borough,” but no new borough was created after 1688 (or until 1832). Thus

localities that had been important in the medieval or Tudor periods were represented, but

towns that had grown up recently, such as Manchester and Birmingham, were not. A few

boroughs were populous and democratic, but many had few inhabitants or none, so that

infl uential “borough mongers” decided who should represent them in Parliament.

The reform movement began in England before the American Revo-

lution, with which it was closely associated. Because complaints were

diverse, it attracted people of different kinds. The fi rst agitation centered

about John Wilkes, a journalist and member of Parliament who vehemently

attacked the policies of King George III. He was vindicated when the courts pronounced

the arrest of his publisher illegal, but the king’s supporters expelled him from the House

of Commons. Wilkes became a political hero, however, and was later reelected three times

to the House, which refused to seat him. A whirl of protests, public meetings, and peti-

tions supported him against the exclusionary actions of Parliament. His followers in 1769

founded the Supporters of the Bill of Rights, the fi rst of many societies dedicated to parlia-

mentary reform. His case raised the question of whether the House of Commons should be

dependent on the electorate and on the propriety of public agitation “out of doors” on polit-

ical questions. It was in this connection, also, that debates in Parliament for the fi rst time

came to be reported in the London press. Parliament stood on the eve of a long transition,

by which it was to be converted from a select body meeting in private to a modern repre-

sentative institution answerable to the public and its constituents. Wilkes himself fi nally

regained his parliamentary seat in 1774 and soon introduced the fi rst of many reform bills,

none of which passed for over half a century.

Parliamentary

politics

The reform movement

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THE HON. MRS. GRAHAM by Thomas Gainsborough (English, 1727–1788)

High social status is very evident in this portrayal of a young English gentlewoman. The wealth of her social class is apparent in the brooch, the plumes, the silks, bows and ruffl es, and in the strings of pearls. Her delicate hands and the classical colonnade suggest a life of leisure and cultural importance. This is the way that English aristocrats of the eighteenth century liked to imagine themselves and to be portrayed for posterity. (Scottish National Gallery, Edinburgh/The Bridgeman Art Library)

347

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Chapter 8 The Age of Enlightenment348

Meanwhile, the important Whig leaders, who had previously managed Parliament by

manipulating elections in lightly populated boroughs, began to sense corruption in such

methods after control passed to George III and his “friends.” Their most eloquent spokes-

man was Edmund Burke (1729–1797), who would become an infl uential

founder of philosophical conservatism. Other reformers called for more

frequent elections, “annual parliaments,” a wider and more equal or even

universal male suffrage, with dissolution of some boroughs in which no one

was really represented. Burke favored none of these things; in fact he came strenuously to

oppose them. He was more concerned that the House of Commons should be independent

and responsible than that it should be mathematically representative. He thought that the

landowning interest should govern. But he supported parliamentary reform by pleading for

a strong sense of party in opposition to royal encroachments, and he argued that members of

Parliament should follow their own best judgment of the country’s interests, bound neither

by the king on the one hand nor by their own constituents on the other. Like other reformers,

he objected to “placemen,” or jobholders dependent on their ministerial patrons, and he

objected to the use made, for political purposes, of a bewildering array of pensions, sine-

cures, honorifi c appointments, and ornamental offi ces, ranks, and titles. In his Economical

Reform of 1782, which curtailed crown patronage, he got many of these abolished.

The reform movement evolved and took on new strength at the time of the French

Revolution, spreading then to more popular levels, as members of the skilled artisan class

responded to events in France by demanding a more adequate “representation of the peo-

ple” in England. They then had upper-class support from Charles James Fox and a minority

of the Whigs. But conservatism (as described in Burke’s critiques of the French Revolu-

tion), satisfaction with the British constitution, and a new patriotism that arose during the

wars against revolutionary France all raised an impassable barrier. Reform was delayed for

another generation.

After the American Revolution, which was a kind of political civil war within the

English-speaking world, the English reformers generally blamed the trouble with America

on King George III. This was less than fair, because Parliament on the American question

was never dragooned by the king. The most ardent reformers later argued that if Parlia-

ment had been truly representative of the British people, the Americans would not have

been driven to independence. This seems unlikely. In any case, reformers of various kinds,

from Wilkes to Burke, were sympathetic to the complaints of the American colonials after

1763. There was much busy correspondence across the Atlantic. Wilkes was a hero in

Boston as well as London. Burke pleaded for conciliation with the colonies in a famous

speech of 1775. His very insistence on the powers and dignity of Parliament, however,

made it hard for him to fi nd a workable solution; and after the colonies became inde-

pendent, he showed no interest in the political ideas of the new American

states. It was the more radical reformers in England, as in Scotland and

Ireland, who most consistently favored the Americans, both before and after

independence. They of course had no power. On the American side, for a

decade before independence, the increasingly discontented colonials, read-

ing English books and pamphlets and reports of speeches, heard George III denounced for

despotism and Parliament accused of incorrigible corruption. All this seemed to confi rm

what Americans had long been reading in the works of English Dissenters or old com-

monwealthmen, now on the fringes of English society but sure of a receptive audience in

the American colonies. The result was to make Americans suspicious of all actions by the

British government, to sense tyranny everywhere, to magnify such things as the Stamp Act

into a kind of plot against American liberties.

Edmund Burke

Reformers’ infl uence

in American colonies

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349

The real drift in England in the eighteenth century, however, despite the chronic criti-

cism of Parliament, was for Parliament to extend its powers in a general centralization of

the empire. The British government faced somewhat the same problems as

centralizing governments on the Continent. All had to deal with the issues

raised by the great war of the midcentury, in its two phases of the Austrian

Succession and Seven Years’ War. Governments everywhere responded to

the fi nancial and military costs of these wars by trying to increase their own central power.

We have seen how the French government, in attempting to tap new sources of revenue,

tried to encroach on the liberties of Brittany and other provinces and to subordinate the

bodies that in France were called parlements. We have likewise seen how the Habsburg

government, also in an effort to raise more taxes, repressed local self-government in the

empire and consolidated power in a more centralized bureaucracy. The same tendency

showed itself in the British system. The Habsburg revocation of a constitutional charter in

Bohemia in 1749 had its parallel in the revocation of the charter of Massachusetts in 1774.

The disputes of the French king with the estates of Brittany or Languedoc had their parallel

in the disputes of the British Parliament with the provincial assemblies of Virginia or New

York. And the French government’s unsuccessful attempts to collect more taxes from

recalcitrant provincial nobles resembled the stymied British attempts to collect more

revenue from their colonial subjects in North America.

Scotland, Ireland, India

The British also faced problems nearer home. Scotland proved a source of

weakness in the War of the Austrian Succession. The Lowlanders were

loyal enough, but the Highlanders revolted with French assistance in the

Jacobite rising of 1745 and by invading England threatened to attack

British centralization

British rule in

Scotland

Edmund Burke’s insistence on the politi- cal and social value of inherited traditions made him a key fi gure in the emergence of modern conservatism. Although he favored an independent Parliament in Britain, he wrote a famous critique of the revolution that abolished traditional royal prerogatives in France. He appears here in an engraving from the 1770s, after a painting by Sir Joshua Reynolds. (Hulton Archive/Getty Images)

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Chapter 8 The Age of Enlightenment350

the British government in the rear as it was locked in the struggle with France. The High-

lands had never really been under any government, even under the old Scottish monarchy

before the union of 1707 with England. Men in the Highlands looked to their chiefs, the

heads of the clans, to tell them whom and when to fi ght. A few leaders could throw the

whole region to the Stuarts or the French. The British government, after 1745, proceeded to

make its sovereignty effective in the Highlands. Troops were quartered there for years.

Roads were pushed across the moors and through the glens. Law courts enforced the law of

the Scottish Lowlands. Revenue offi cers collected funds for the treasury of Great Britain.

The chiefs lost their old quasi-feudal jurisdiction. The old system of land tenure was bro-

ken up, and the holding of land from clannish chiefs was ended. Fighting Highlanders were

incorporated into newly formed Highland regiments of the British army, under the usual

discipline imposed by the modern state on its fi ghting forces. For 30 years the Scots were

forbidden to wear the kilt or play the bagpipes.

In Ireland the process of centralization worked itself out more slowly.

How Ireland was subjected after the battle of the Boyne has already been

described. It was a French army that had landed in Ireland, supported

James II, and been defeated in 1690. The new English constitutional arrangements, the

Hanoverian succession, the Protestant ascendancy, the church and the land settlement in

Ireland, together with the prosperity of British commerce, were all secured by the subor-

dination of the smaller island. The native or Catholic Irish remained generally pro-French.

The Presbyterian Irish disliked both the French and popery, but they were alienated from

England also; many in fact emigrated to America in the generation before the American

The British in Ireland

CHRONOLOGY OF NOTABLE EVENTS, 1733–1795

1733 Voltaire publishes Philosophical Letters on the English

1741 Montesquieu publishes The Spirit of Laws

1751–1772 Publication of the Encyclopedia in Paris

1753 Jean-Jacques Rousseau publishes Origin of Inequality among Men

1762 Rousseau publishes The Social Contract and Émile

1762–1796 Tsarina Catherine the Great reigns as enlightened despot in Russia

1769 Emergence of Reform Movement in British Parliament

1772 Prussia, Austria, and Russia impose the First Partition of Poland

1773 Emelian Pugachev leads a rebellion of the lower classes in Russia

1774–1792 King Louis XVI reigns in France

1776 Adam Smith publishes The Wealth of Nations

1776–1783 Revolutionary War leads to American independence from Britain

1780–1790 Emperor Joseph II introduces “enlightened” reforms in Austria

1784 Britain creates the India Offi ce to manage British interests in India

1787 Written Constitution establishes new government in the United States

1793, 1795 Second and Third Partitions of Poland destroy the Polish state

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351

Revolution. Ireland remained quiet in the midcentury wars. When the trouble began between

the British Parliament and the American colonies, the Presbyterian Irish generally took

the American side. They were greatly stirred by the example of American independence.

Thousands formed themselves into Volunteer Companies; they wore uniforms, armed, and

drilled; they demanded both internal reform of the Irish parliament (which was even less

representative than the British) and greater autonomy for the Irish parliament as against the

central government at Westminster.

Faced with these demands, and fearing a French invasion of Ireland during the War of

American Independence, the British government made concessions. It allowed an increase

of power to the Irish parliament at Dublin. But from the English parliament Catholics

were still excluded. In the next war between France and Great Britain, which began in

1793, many Irish felt a warm sympathy for the French Revolution. Catholics and Presby-

terians, at last combining, formed a network of United Irish societies throughout the

whole island. They sought French aid, and the French barely failed to land a sizable army.

Even without French military support, the United Irish rose in 1798 to drive out the

English and establish an independent republic. The British, suppressing the rebellion,

now turned to centralization. The separate kingdom of Ireland, and the Irish parliament,

ceased to exist. The Irish were thereafter represented in the imperial Parliament at West-

minster. These provisions were incorporated in the Act of Union of 1801, creating the

United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland, which Irish nationalists vehemently

disliked but which lasted until 1922.

British establishments in India also faced new interventions from the

centralizing imperial policies of Parliament. At the close of the Seven Years’

War the various British posts in and around Mumbai, Chennai, and Kolkata

(cities long known to the English as Bombay, Madras, and Calcutta) were unconnected

with each other and subordinate only to the board of directors of the East India Company

in London. Company employees interfered at will in the wars and politics of the Indian

states and enriched themselves by such means as they could, not excluding graft, trickery,

intimidation, rapine, and extortion. In 1773 the ministry of Lord North passed a Regulat-

ing Act, of which the main purpose was to regulate the British subjects in India, whom no

Indian government could control. The company was left with its trading activities, but its

political activities were brought under parliamentary supervision. The act gathered all the

British establishments under a single governor general, set up a new supreme court with

British judges at Kolkata, and required the company to submit its correspondence on polit-

ical matters for review by the ministers of His Majesty’s Government. Warren Hastings

became the fi rst British governor general in India. He was so high-handed with some of the

Indian princes, and made so many enemies among jealous English residents in Bengal, that

he was denounced at home, impeached, and subjected to a trial that dragged on for seven

years in the House of Lords. He was fi nally acquitted. After Clive, whose interventions had

rapidly expanded British power there during the 1750s, Hastings was the main author of

British supremacy in India. Meanwhile, in 1784 an India offi ce was created in the British

ministry at home. The governor general henceforth ruled the growing British sphere in

India almost as an absolute monarch but only as the agent of the ministry and Parliament

of Great Britain.

Thus the trend in the British world was to centralization. Despite the fl utter of royal-

ism under George III, it was to a centralization of all British territories under the authority

of Parliament. What was happening in empire affairs, as in domestic politics in England,

was a continuing application of the principles of 1689. The parliamentary sovereignty

Intervention in India

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Chapter 8 The Age of Enlightenment352

established in 1689 was now, after the middle of the eighteenth century, being applied to

regions where it had heretofore had little effect. And it was against the centralizing author-

ity of the British Parliament that the Americans primarily rebelled.

40. THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION

Background to the Revolution

The behavior of the Americans in the Seven Years’ War, as viewed by the British govern-

ment, left much to be desired. The several colonial legislatures rejected the Albany Plan

of Union drafted by Franklin and commended to them by British offi cials. During the war

it was the British regular army and navy, fi nanced by taxes and loans in Great Britain, that

drove the French out of America. The war effort of the Anglo-Americans was desultory

at best. After the defeat of the French the colonials had still to reckon with the Indians of

the interior, who preferred French rule to that of their new British and British-colonial

masters. Many tribes joined in an uprising led by Pontiac, a western chief, and they car-

ried their attacks on colonial and British outposts as far eastward as the Pennsylvania and

Virginia frontiers. Again, the colonials proved unable to deal with a problem vital to their

own future, and peace was brought about by offi cials and army units taking their orders

from Great Britain.

The British government now tried to make the colonials pay a larger share toward the

expenses of the empire. The colonials had hitherto paid only local taxes. They were liable

to customs duties, of which the proceeds went in principle to Great Britain; but these duties

were levied to enforce the Acts of Trade and Navigation and to direct the fl ow of com-

merce, not to raise revenue; and they were seldom paid, because the Acts of Trade and

Navigation were persistently ignored. American merchants, for example, commonly

imported sugar from the French West Indies, contrary to law, and even shipped in return the

iron wares that it was against the law for Americans to manufacture for export. The colo-

nials in practice paid only such taxes as were approved by their own local legislature for

local purposes. The Americans in effect enjoyed a degree of tax exemption within the

empire, and it was against this form of provincial privilege that Parliament began to move.

By the Revenue Act of 1764 (the “Sugar” Act), the British ministry, while reducing and

liberalizing the customs duties payable in America, entered upon a program of actual and

systematic collection. In the following year the ministry attempted to extend to British sub-

jects in America a tax peaceably accepted by those in Great Britain and commonplace in

most of Europe. This imposed on all uses of paper, as in newspapers and commercial and

legal documents, the payment of a fee that was certifi ed by the affi xing of a

stamp. The Stamp Act aroused violent and concerted resistance in the colo-

nies, especially among the businessmen, lawyers, and editors who were the

most articulate class. It therefore was repealed in 1766. In 1767 Parliament,

clumsily casting about to fi nd a tax acceptable to the Americans, hit upon the

“Townshend duties,” which taxed colonial imports of paper, paint, lead, and tea. Another

outcry went up, and the Townshend duties were repealed, except the one on tea, which was

kept as a token of the sovereign power of Parliament to tax all persons in the empire.

The colonials had proved stubborn; and they had argued that Parlia-

ment had no authority to tax them because they were not represented in it.

The British replied that Parliament represented America as much as it rep-

resented Great Britain. If Philadelphia sent no actually elected deputies to

Colonial resistance to

new taxes

Debate over

representation

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35340. The American Revolution

the Commons, so this argument ran, neither did Manchester in England. Both places

enjoyed a kind of “virtual representation,” because members of the Commons did not

merely speak for local constituencies but made themselves responsible for imperial inter-

ests as a whole. To this many Americans retorted that if Manchester was not “really” rep-

resented it ought to be, which was of course also the belief of the English reformers.

Meanwhile the strictly Anglo-American question subsided after the repeal of the Stamp

Act and the Townshend program. There had been no clarifi cation of principle on either

side. But in practice the Americans had resisted signifi cant taxation, and Parliament had

refrained from making any drastic use of its sovereign power.

The calm was shattered in 1773 by an event that proved, to the more

dissatisfi ed Americans, the disadvantages of belonging to a global eco-

nomic system in which the main policies were made on the other side of the

ocean. The East India Company was in diffi culties. It had a great surplus of

Chinese tea, and in any case it wanted new commercial privileges in return for the political

privileges that it was losing in India by the Regulating Act of 1773. In the past the com-

pany had been required to sell its wares at public auction in London; other merchants had

handled distribution from that point on. Now, in 1773, Parliament granted the company the

exclusive right to sell tea through its own agents in America to American local dealers. Tea

was a large item of business in the commercial capitalism of the time. The colonial con-

sumer might pay less for it, but the intermediary American merchant would be shut out.

The company’s tea was boycotted in all American ports. In Boston, to prevent its forcible

landing, a party of disguised men invaded the tea ships and dumped the chests into the

harbor. To this act of vandalism the British government replied by measures far out of

proportion to the offense. It “closed” the port of Boston, thus threatening the city with

economic ruin. It virtually rescinded the charter of Massachusetts, forbidding certain local

elections and the holding of town meetings.

And at the same time, in 1774, apparently by coincidence, Parliament

enacted the Quebec Act. The wisest piece of British legislation in these

troubled years, the Quebec Act provided a government for the newly con-

quered Canadian French, granting them security in their French civil law

and Catholic religion and laying foundations for the British Empire that was to come. But

the act defi ned the boundaries of Quebec somewhat as the French themselves would have

defi ned them, including in them all territory north of the Ohio River—the present states

of Wisconsin, Michigan, Illinois, Indiana, and Ohio. In the view of British legislators

these boundaries were perfectly reasonable, because the few Europeans in the area were

French, and since, in the age before canals or railways, the obvious means of reaching the

whole region was by way of the St. Lawrence valley and the Lakes. But to the Americans

the Quebec Act was a pro-French and pro-Catholic outrage, and at a time when the pow-

ers of juries and assemblies in the old colonies were threatened, it was disquieting that

the Quebec Act made no mention of such representative institutions for the new northern

province. It was lumped with the closing of an American port and the destruction of the

Massachusetts government as one of the “Intolerable Acts” to be resisted.

And indeed the implications of parliamentary sovereignty and centralized planning

were now apparent. It was no longer merely an affair of taxation. A government that had to

take account of the East India Company, the French Canadians, and the British taxpayers,

even if more prudent and enlightened than Lord North’s ministry of 1774, could not possi-

bly at the same time have satisfi ed the Americans of the thirteen seaboard colonies. These

Americans, since 1763 no longer afraid of the French Empire, were less inclined to forgo

The Boston Tea

Party

The Quebec Act

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Chapter 8 The Age of Enlightenment354

MRS. ISAAC SMITH by John Singleton Copley (American, then English, 1737–1815)

The wife of a Boston merchant, Mrs. Smith represents the bourgeois family background of many leaders in the American and French revolutions. In general, it was a background of sub- stance, comfort, and hard work. Mrs. Smith’s costume and surroundings (though less elegant than those portrayed in the painting of Mrs. Graham on p. 347) suggest her high station in New England society. Copley disliked the rising revolutionary agitation in America and emi- grated permanently to England in 1774. (Yale University Art Gallery/Art Resource, NY)

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355

their own interests in order to remain under British protection or control. British poli-

cies had aroused antagonism in the coastal towns and in the backwoods, among wealthy

land speculators and poor squatter frontiersmen, among merchants and the workers who

depended on the business of merchants. The freedom of Americans to determine their own

political life was in question. Yet there were few in 1774, or even later, prepared to face

the thought of independence from the British Empire.

The War of American Independence

After the “Intolerable Acts,” self-authorized groups met in the several colonies and sent

delegates to a “continental congress” in Philadelphia. This body adopted a boycott of British

goods, to be enforced on unwilling Americans by local organizers of resistance. Fighting

began in the next year, 1775, when the British commander at Boston sent a detachment to

seize unauthorized stores of weapons at Concord. On the way, at Lexing-

ton, in a brush between soldiers and partisans, or “minutemen,” someone

fi red the “shot heard round the world.” The Second Continental Congress,

meeting a few weeks later, proceeded to raise an American army, appointed

George Washington as the commanding general of its troops, dispatched an expedition to

force Quebec into the revolutionary union, and entered into overtures with Bourbon France.

The Congress was still reluctant to repudiate the tie with Britain. But passions grew

fi erce in consequence of the fi ghting. Radicals convinced moderates that the choice now

lay between independence and enslavement. It appeared that the French, naturally uninter-

ested in a reconciliation of British subjects, would give help if the avowed aim of

American rebels was to dismember the British Empire. In January 1776 Thomas Paine, in

his pamphlet Common Sense, made his debut as a kind of international revolutionary; he was to fi gure in the French Revolution and to work for revolution in England. He had

come from England less than two years before, and he detested English society for its

injustices. Eloquent and vitriolic, Common Sense identifi ed the independence of the American colonies with the cause of liberty for all humankind. It pitted freedom against

tyranny in the person of “the royal brute of Great Britain.” It was “repugnant to reason,”

said Paine, “to suppose that this Continent can long remain subject to any external

power. . . . There is something absurd in supposing a Continent to be perpetually governed

by an island.” Common Sense was read everywhere in the colonies, and its slashing argu- ments unquestionably spread a sense of proud isolation from the Old World. Such ideas

also gained wide support in the Continental Congress, where Thomas Jefferson and other

members of a special committee began drafting a theoretical and historical justifi cation for

America’s separation from Britain. Like Paine, the authors linked their specifi c grievances

to broad Enlightenment claims for universal human rights, thus giving the widest possible

signifi cance to the armed rebellion of some sparsely settled colonies in Britain’s far-fl ung

eighteenth-century empire. On July 4, 1776, the Congress adopted the Declaration of

Independence, by which the United States assumed its separate and equal

station among the powers of the earth.

The War of American Independence thereupon turned into another

European struggle for empire. For two years more the French government

remained ostensibly noninterventionist but meanwhile poured munitions

into the colonies through an especially rigged-up commercial concern. Nine-tenths of the

arms used by the Americans at the battle of Saratoga came from France. After the American

The “shot heard

round the world”

Role of the European

powers

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Chapter 8 The Age of Enlightenment356

victory in this battle the French government concluded, in 1778, that the insurgents were

a good political risk, recognized them, signed an alliance with them, and declared war on

Great Britain. Spain soon followed, hoping to drive the British from Gibraltar and deciding

that its overseas empire was more threatened by a restoration of British supremacy in North

America than by the disturbing example of an independent American republic. The Dutch

were drawn into hostilities through their trade with the Americans, which fl owed mostly by

way of the Dutch West Indies. Other powers—Russia, Sweden, Denmark, Prussia, Portu-

gal, and Turkey—irked at British employment of blockade and sea power in time of war,

formed an “Armed Neutrality” to protect their commerce from dictation by the British fl eet.

The French, in a brief revival of their own sea power, landed an expeditionary force of 6,000

men in Rhode Island. The Americans suffered from the internal differences inseparable

from all revolutions and were in any case still unable to govern themselves to any effect,

meeting with the old diffi culties in raising both troops and money. It was therefore the

participation of regiments of the French army, in conjunction with squadrons of the French

fl eet, that made possible the defeat of the armed forces of the British Empire and so per-

suaded the British government to recognize the independence of the United States. By the

peace treaty of 1783, though the British were still in possession of New York and Savannah

and though the governments befriending the Americans would just as soon have confi ned

them east of the mountains, the new republic obtained territory as far west as the Missis-

sippi. Canada remained British. It now received an English-speaking population of more

than 60,000 refugee American “loyalists” who wanted to remain in the British Empire.

Signifi cance of the Revolution

The upheaval in America was a revolution in the Atlantic world as well as a war of inde-

pendence. The Declaration of Independence was more than an announcement of secession

from the empire; it was a justifi cation of rebellion against established

authority. Curiously, although the American quarrel had been with the Par-

liament, the Declaration arraigned no one but the British king. One reason

was that the Congress, not recognizing the authority of Parliament, could

separate from Great Britain only by a denunciation of the British crown;

another reason was that the cry of “tyrant” made a more popular and fl aming issue. Boldly

voicing the natural right philosophy of the age, the Declaration held as “self-evident”—

that is, as evident to all reasonable people—that “all men are created equal, that they are

endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable rights, that among these are life, liberty,

and the pursuit of happiness.” These electrifying words leaped inward into America and

outward to the world.

In the new states democratic equality made many advances. It was sub-

ject, however, to a great limitation, in that it long applied only to white

males of European origin. It was more than a century before women

received the vote. American Indians were relatively few in number and

most had already been pushed out of the coastal colonies; but the black

population at the time of the Revolution comprised about a fi fth of the emerging nation’s

whole population. Many American whites of the revolutionary generation were indeed

troubled by the institution of slavery. It was abolished outright in Massachusetts, and all

states north of Maryland took steps toward its gradual extinction. But application of the

principles of liberty and equality without regard to race or gender went far beyond

the political and cultural assumptions of even the most enlightened white Americans at the

The Declaration of

Independence

Equality advances

and limitations

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357

time. In the South, all censuses from 1790 to 1850 showed a third of the population to be

slaves. For enslaved African Americans, the “self-evident” and “unalienable rights” would

be blocked by a kind of internal political truce until slavery was fi nally abolished in the

American Civil War—a social upheaval that might well be described as the fi nal, violent

phase of a long revolutionary struggle that was fi rst announced, in 1776, in America’s

Declaration of Independence. Meanwhile, in the North, free blacks found that in fact, and

often in law, they were debarred from voting, from adequate schooling, and from the wid-

ening opportunities in which white Americans saw the essence of their national life and

their superiority to Europe.

For the white male population, however, the Revolution had a democra-

tizing effect in many ways. Lawyers, landowners, and businessmen who led

the movement against Britain needed popular support, and to obtain it they

were willing to make promises and concessions to the lower classes. Or the

Democratization

Thomas Paine (1737–1809) lived in England until he arrived in Philadelphia in 1774. He pub- lished his Common Sense anon- ymously two years later, after the armed confl ict had begun. Widely read, it helped persuade Americans to fi ght for complete independence from Britain. (Library of Congress

[LC-USZ62-50794])

40. The American Revolution

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Chapter 8 The Age of Enlightenment358

popular elements, workmen and mechanics, farmers and frontiersmen, often dissidents in

religion, extorted concessions by force or threats. There was a good deal of violence, as in

all revolutions; the new states confi scated property from the counterrevolutionaries, called

Tories, some of whom were tarred and feathered by infuriated mobs. The dissolution of the

old colonial governments threw open all political questions. In some states more men

became qualifi ed to vote. In some, governors and senators were now popularly elected, in

addition to the lower houses of the legislatures as in colonial times. The principle was

adopted, still unknown to the parliamentary bodies of Europe, that each member of a legis-

lative assembly should represent about the same number of citizens. Primogeniture and

entail, which landed families aspiring to an aristocratic mode of life sometimes favored,

went down before the demands of democrats and small property owners. Tithes were done

away with, and the established churches—Anglican in the South, Congregationalist in New

England—lost their privileged position in varying degree. But the Revolution was not

socially as profound as the revolution soon to come in France, or as the revolution in Russia

in 1917. Property changed hands, but the law of property was modifi ed only in detail. There

had been no such thing in British America as a native nobleman or even a bishop; clergy

and aristocracy had been incomparably less ingrained in American than in European soci-

ety, and the rebellion against them was thus less devastating in its effect.

The main importance of the American Revolution remained political and even con-

stitutional in a strict sense. The American leaders were themselves part of the wider Age

of Enlightenment, sharing fully in its humane and secular spirit. But Mon-

tesquieu was the only non-British thinker who signifi cantly infl uenced

America’s political elite, and Montesquieu owed his popularity to his phi-

losophizing upon English institutions. The Americans drew heavily on the

writings of John Locke, but their cast of mind went back before Locke to

the English Puritan movement of the fi rst half of the seventeenth century.

Their thought was formed not only by Locke’s ideas of human nature and government, but,

as already noted, by the dissenting literature and the neorepublican writings that had never

quite died out in England. The realities of life for fi ve generations in America had sharpened

the old insistence upon personal liberty and equality. When the dispute with Britain came to

a head, the Americans found themselves arguing for the historic and chartered rights of the

English as well as the timeless and universal rights of man, both of which were invoked in

the colonies to challenge the British imposition of parliamentary sovereignty. The Ameri-

cans came to believe, more than any other people, that government should possess limited

powers and operate only within the terms of a fi xed and written constitutional document.

All of the 13 new states quickly produced or reaffi rmed written constitutions, and each

enshrined virtually the same principles. All asserted the central idea in the great Declara-

tion, that it was to protect “unalienable” rights that governments were instituted among

men and that whenever government became destructive to this end the people had a right

to “institute new government” for their safety and happiness. All the constitutions under-

took to limit government by a separation of executive, legislative, and judicial powers.

Most appended a bill of rights, stating the natural rights of the citizens and the actions that

no government might justly take. None of the constitutions were as yet fully democratic;

even the most liberal gave some advantage in public affairs to the owners of property.

Federalism, or the allocation of power between central and outlying

governments, went along with the idea of written constitutions as a prin-

cipal offering of the Americans to the wider world history of political

theories and institutions. Like constitutionalism, federalism developed in

Infl uence of

Enlightenment

thinkers

Constitutionalism and

federalism

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359

the atmosphere of protest against a centralized sovereign power. It was a hard idea for

Americans to work out, and until 1789 the states maintained only a loose affi liation in

the Articles of Confederation. The United States was a union of 13 independent repub-

lics. Disadvantages in this scheme becoming apparent, a constitutional convention met at

Philadelphia in 1787 and drew up the constitution that is today the world’s oldest written

instrument of government still in operation. In it the United States was conceived not

merely as a league of states but as a union in which individuals were citizens of the United

States of America for some purposes and of their particular states for others. Persons, not

states, composed the federal republic, and the laws of the United States fell not merely on

the states but on the people.

The international consequences of the American Revolution can hardly be overstated.

By overburdening the French treasury, the American war became a direct cause of the

French Revolution. Beyond that, it ushered in the age of predominantly liberal or demo-

cratic revolution that lasted through the European revolutions of 1848 and even into later

struggles for national independence or unity. The American doctrine, like most thought in

the Age of Enlightenment, was expressed in universal terms of “man” and “nature.” All

peoples regardless of their own history could apply it to themselves, because, as Alexander

Hamilton once put it in his youth, “the sacred rights of man are not to be rummaged for

among old parchments or musty records. They are written, as with a sunbeam, in the whole

volume of human nature, by the hand of Divinity itself, and can never be erased or obscured

by mortal power.” The Americans, in freeing themselves, had done what all peoples ought

to do to affi rm the “rights of man.”

The revolt in America offered a dramatic judgment on the old colonial

system, convincing some, in England and elsewhere, that the empires for

which they had long been struggling were hardly worth acquiring, because

colonies in time, in the words of Turgot, fell away from the mother country

“like ripe fruit.” The idea spread, because trade between Britain and America continued

to prosper, that one could do business with a country without exerting political infl uence

or control, and this idea became fundamental to the coming movement of economic lib-

eralism and free trade. By coincidence, the book that became the gospel of the free trade

movement, Adam Smith’s Wealth of Nations, was published in England in the year 1776. The American example was pointed to by other peoples wishing to throw off colonial

status—fi rst by the Latin Americans, then by the peoples of the older British dominions,

and, fi nally, in the twentieth century, by those of Asia and Africa also. In Europe, the

American example encouraged the type of nationalism in which subjugated nations aspired

to be free. And at home the Revolution did much to determine the spirit and method by

which the new nation spread across the North American continent and the ideas by which

the United States, when it became a leading power a century and a half later, would explain

and justify its national actions in the modern world.

More immediately, the American example was not lost on the many Europeans who

sojourned in the new states during and after the war. Of these the French Marquis de

Lafayette was the most famous, but there were many others: Thomas Paine, who returned

to Europe in 1787; the future French revolutionist Brissot; the future Polish national leader

Kosciusko; the future marshals of Napoleon, Jourdan and Berthier; the future reformer

of the Prussian army Gneisenau. Numerous Americans also went to Europe, notably

the aging Benjamin Franklin, who in the 1780s was incredibly lionized in the fashion-

able and literary world of Paris. People and ideas thus fl owed in both directions across

the Atlantic.

Signifi cance of

American Revolution

40. The American Revolution

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Chapter 8 The Age of Enlightenment360

The establishment of the United States was taken in Europe to prove

that many ideas of the Enlightenment were practicable. Rationalists

declared that here was a people, free of past errors and superstitions, who

showed how enlightened beings could plan their own affairs. Rousseauists

saw in America the very paradise of natural equality, unspoiled innocence, and patriotic

virtue. But nothing so much impressed Europeans, and especially the French, as the spec-

tacle of the Americans meeting in solemn conclave to draft their state constitutions. These,

along with the Declaration of Independence, were translated and published in 1778 by a

French nobleman, the Duke de la Rochefoucauld. They were endlessly and excitedly dis-

cussed as Europeans projected their own ideas or traditions onto a place that they did not

DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE by John Trumbull (American, 1756–1843)

Trumbull’s painting shows the committee that presented America’s Declaration of Inde- pendence to the Continental Congress in 1776. Although Franklin and Adams are standing with the committee, Thomas Jefferson is presenting the document. Trumbull met often with Jefferson in Paris when he was at work on this painting in the late 1780s, and the picture conveys a Jeffersonian view of the event it portrays. (Library of Congress [LC-DIG-pga-02322])

Vindication of

Enlightenment ideas

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361

really know. Constitutionalism, federalism, and limited government were not new ideas in

Europe. They came out of the Middle Ages and were currently set forth in many quarters,

for example, in Hungary, the Holy Roman Empire, and the Parlement of Paris. But in

their prevailing form, and even in the philosophy of Montesquieu, they were associated

with feudalism and aristocracy. The American Revolution made such ideas progressive.

The American infl uence, added to the force of developments in Europe, made the thought

of the later Enlightenment more democratic. The United States replaced England as the

model country of advanced thinkers. On the Continent there was less passive trust in the

enlightened despotism of the offi cial state and more confi dence in the idea of enlightened

self-government.

The American constitutions seemed to offer a practical demonstration of the social

contract. They offered a picture of men in a state of nature, having cast off their old govern-

ment, deliberately sitting down to contrive a new one, weighing and judging each branch

of government on its merits, assigning due powers to legislature, executive, and judiciary,

declaring that all government was created by the people and in possession of a merely

delegated authority, and listing specifi cally the inalienable human rights—inalienable in

that they could not conceivably be taken away, because all persons possessed them even

if denied them by force. And these rights were the very same rights that many eighteenth-

century Europeans wanted for themselves—freedom of religion, freedom of press, freedom

of assembly, freedom from arbitrary arrest at the discretion of offi cials. And they were all

based on the rigorous principle of equality before the law. The American example crystal-

lized and made tangible the ideas that were strongly blowing in Europe, and the American

example was one reason why the French, in 1789, began their revolution with a declaration

of human rights and with the drafting of a written constitution.

And more deeply still, America became a kind of mirage or ideal vision for Europe,

land of open opportunity and of new beginnings, free from the load of history and of the

past, wistfully addressed by Goethe:

America, thou hast it better Than has our Continent, the old one.

It is evident that this was only part of the picture. The United States, as its later history was

to show, bore a heavy load of inherited burdens and unsolved problems, especially slavery

and pervasive racial discrimination. The new American nation had emerged from the com-

plex cross-cultural encounters of the previous two centuries and from the wider history

of the early modern Atlantic World—to which it remained deeply connected through its

religions and politics, its international trade, and its diverse African, Indian, and European

populations. But in a general way, until new revolutionary and radical social movements

set in a century later, America stood for many Europeans as a kind of utopian opportu-

nity for common people, a “new world” not only for the millions who emigrated to it but

for other millions who stayed at home, who often wished that their own countries might

become more like it, and many of whom might even have agreed with Abraham Lincoln in

calling it the last best hope of earth.

For suggested further readings and useful Web sites, interactive exercises, glossary, chronologies,

and more, go to the Online Learning Center at www.mhhe.com/palmerhistory11e.

40. The American Revolution

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363

C h a p t e r 9 THE FRENCH

REVOLUTION

In 1789 France   fell into revolution, and the world has never since been the same. The

French Revolution was by far the most momen-

tous upheaval of the whole revolutionary age. It

replaced the “old regime” with “modern society,”

and at its extreme phase it became very radical, so

much so that later revolutionary movements often

looked back to it as a predecessor. The ideas of the

French Revolution, spreading far beyond France

itself, decisively infl uenced the subsequent devel-

opment of political parties and ideological confl icts

throughout much of Europe and elsewhere; indeed,

the Revolution still provokes highly charged

debates about the characteristics or consequences

of social reform, political radicalism, and revolu-

tionary violence.

At the time, in the age of the Democratic or

Atlantic Revolution from the 1760s to the 1860s, the

role of France was decisive. Even the Americans,

without French military intervention, would

hardly have won such a clear settlement from England or been so free to set up the new

states and new constitutions that have just been described. And while revolutionary

disturbances in Ireland and Poland, or among the Dutch, Italians, and others, were by

no means caused by the French example, it was the presence or absence of French aid

that usually determined whatever successes they achieved. The Revolution in France also

contributed to other revolutions in the wider Atlantic world. The great slave uprising in

the French colony at Saint-Domingue, which began in 1791 and led eventually to the

creation of the independent Republic of Haiti, was inspired in part by reports of the recently

declared “rights of man” in France; and later French military interventions in Spain and

41. Social and Cultural

Backgrounds

42. The Revolution and the

Reorganization of France

43. The Revolution and

Europe: The War and the

“Second” Revolution, 1792

44. The Emergency Republic,

1792–1795: The Terror

45. The Constitutional

Republic: The Directory,

1795–1799

46. The Authoritarian

Republic: The Consulate,

1799–1804

Chapter emblem: Detail from The Tennis Court Oath by Jacques-Louis David (1748–1825). (RMN-Grand Palais/Art Resource, NY)

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Chapter 9 The French Revolution364

Portugal set off, somewhat indirectly, the revolutionary movements that swept across Latin

America after 1808. Few revolutions, in short, have ever generated such far-reaching

historical upheavals.

The French Revolution, unlike the Russian or Chinese revolutions of the twentieth

century, occurred in what was in many ways the most advanced country of the day.

France was the center of the intellectual movement of the Enlightenment. French science

then led the world. French books were read everywhere, and the newspapers and politi-

cal journals that became very numerous after 1789 carried a message that hardly needed

translation. French was an international language for educated and aristocratic people

in most European countries. France was also, potentially before 1789 and actually after

1793, the most powerful country in Europe. It may have been the wealthiest, though not

per capita. With a population of 24,000,000 the French were the most numerous of all

European peoples under a single government. Even Russia was hardly more populous until

after the partitions of Poland. The Germans were divided, the subjects of the Habsburgs

were of diverse nationalities, and the English and Scots together numbered at this time

only 10,000,000. Paris, though smaller than London, was over twice as large as Vienna

or Amsterdam. French exports to Europe were larger than those of Great Britain. It is

said that half the goldpieces circulating in Europe were French. Europeans in the eigh-

teenth century were in the habit of taking ideas from France; they were therefore, depend-

ing on their social position, the more excited, encouraged, alarmed, or horrifi ed when

revolution broke out in that country.

41. SOCIAL AND CULTURAL BACKGROUNDS

The Old Regime: The Three Estates

Some remarks have already been made about the social and political institutions of the Old

Regime, as the prerevolutionary society came to be called after it disappeared, and about

the failure of enlightened despotism in France to alter these institutions in any fundamental

way. The essential fact about the Old Regime was that it was still legally aristocratic and

in some ways feudal. Everyone belonged legally to an “estate” or “order” of society. The

First Estate was the clergy, the Second Estate was the nobility, and the Third Estate

included everyone else—from the wealthiest business and professional classes to the poor-

est peasants and city workers. These categories were important in that the individual’s

legal rights and personal prestige depended on the category to which he or she belonged.

Politically, the estates were obsolescent; not since 1614 had they assembled in an Estates

General of the whole kingdom, though in some provinces they had continued to meet as

provincial bodies. Socially, they were obsolescent also, for the threefold division no longer

corresponded to the real distribution of interest, infl uence, property, or productive activity

among the French people.

Conditions in the church and the position of the clergy have sometimes

been much exaggerated as a cause of the French Revolution. The church

in France levied a tithe on all agricultural products, but so did the church in

England; the French bishops often played a part in government affairs, but

so did bishops in England through the House of Lords. The French bishoprics of 1789 were

no wealthier than those of the Church of England were found to be when investigated 40

years later. In actual numbers, in the secular atmosphere of the Age of Enlightenment, the

clergy, especially the monastic orders, had greatly declined, so that by 1789 there were

The church

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36541. Social and Cultural Backgrounds

probably not more than 100,000 Catholic clergy of all types in the entire population. But if

the importance of the clergy has in the past been overemphasized, still it must be said that

the church was deeply involved in the prevailing social system. For one thing, church

bodies—bishoprics, abbeys, convents, schools, and other religious foundations—owned

between 5 and 10 percent of the land of the country, which meant that collectively the

church was the greatest of all landowners. Moreover, the income from church properties,

like all income, was divided very unequally, and much of it found its way into the hands of

the aristocratic occupants of the higher ecclesiastical offi ces.

The noble order, which in 1789 comprised about 400,000 persons,

including women and children, had enjoyed a great resurgence since the

death of Louis XIV in 1715. Distinguished government service, higher

church offi ces, army, parlements, and most other public and semipublic honors were

almost monopolized by the nobility in the time of Louis XVI, who, it will be recalled, had

mounted the throne in 1774 and had abandoned recent attempts to break the nobility’s

power in the traditional parlements. Repeatedly, through parlements, Provincial Estates, or

the assembly of the clergy dominated by the noble bishops, the aristocracy had blocked

royal plans for taxation and shown a desire to control the policies of state. At the same time

the bourgeoisie, or upper crust of the Third Estate, had never been so infl uential. Although

the “bourgeoisie” was an amorphous social category (indeed, some historians argue that

“bourgeois” refers to a class that never had a real social identity), the number of French

The nobility

This image of French peasants shows how farmers prepared their fi elds and planted seeds dur- ing the 1760s, when the picture was published in a French book. The agrarian system shaped property rights and social hierar- chies as well as the supply of food in French cities—all of which created resentments or fears that contributed to the coming of the French Revolution. (Art Media/Heritage/The Image

Works)

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Chapter 9 The French Revolution366

merchants, lawyers, and other professional groups clearly grew over the course of the

eighteenth century. The fi vefold increase of French foreign trade between 1713 and 1789

suggests the growth of the merchant class and of the legal and governmental classes asso-

ciated with it. As members of the bourgeoisie became stronger, more widely read, and

more self-confi dent, they resented the distinctions and privileges that enhanced the status

of nobles. Some of these were fi nancial: nobles were exempt on principle from the most

important direct tax, the taille, whereas bourgeois persons obtained exemption with more

effort; but so many bourgeois enjoyed tax privileges that purely monetary self-interest was

not primary in their psychology. The bourgeois resented the nobleman for his sense of

superiority and his arrogance. What had formerly been customary respect was now felt as

humiliation. Many otherwise successful and wealthy people felt that they were being shut

out from offi ce and honors and that the nobles were seeking more power in government as

a class. The Revolution thus began in the social and political collision of two moving

objects, a rising aristocracy and a rising bourgeoisie.

The common people, below the commercial and professional families

in the Third Estate, were probably as well off as in most countries. But

they were not well off compared with the upper classes. Wage earners had

by no means shared in the eighteenth-century wave of business prosperity.

Between the 1730s and the 1780s the prices of consumers’ goods rose about 65 percent,

whereas wages rose only 22 percent. Persons dependent on wages were therefore badly

pinched, but they were less numerous than today, for in the country there were many small

farmers and in the towns many small craftsmen who made a living not by wages but by sell-

ing the product of their own labor at market prices. Yet in both town and country there was

a signifi cant wage-earning population, which was to play a decisive part in the Revolution.

The Agrarian System of the Old Regime

Over four-fi fths of the people were rural. The agrarian system had developed so that there

was no serfdom in France as it was known in eastern Europe. The peasant owed no labor

to the lord—except a few token services in some cases. The peasants worked for them-

selves, either on their own land or on rented land; or they worked as sharecroppers; or they

hired themselves out to the lord or to another peasant.

The manor, however, still retained certain surviving features of the

feudal age. The noble owner of a manor enjoyed “hunting rights,” or

the privilege of keeping game preserves and of hunting on his own and the

peasants’ land. He usually had a monopoly over the village mill, bakeshop,

or wine press, for the use of which he collected fees called banalités. He possessed certain vestigial powers of jurisdiction in the manorial court and certain local

police powers, from which fees and fi nes were collected. These seigneurial privileges were

of course the survivals of a day when the local manor had been a unit of government and

the noble had performed the functions of government, an age that had long passed with the

development of the centralized modern state.

There was another special feature to the property system of the Old Regime. Every

owner of a manor (there were some bourgeois and even wealthy peasants who had pur-

chased manors) possessed what was called a right of “eminent property” with respect to all

land located in the manorial village. This meant that lesser landowners within the manor

“owned” their land in that they could freely buy, sell, lease, and inherit or bequeath it;

but they owed to the owner of the manor, in recognition of his “eminent property” rights,

The Third Estate

Survival of feudal

privileges

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367

certain rents, payable annually, as well as transfer fees that were payable whenever the land

changed owners by sale or death. Subject to these “eminent property” rights, landowner-

ship was fairly widespread. Peasants directly owned about two-fi fths of the soil of the

country; bourgeois, a little under a fi fth. The nobility owned perhaps a little over a fi fth and

the church owned somewhat under a tenth, the remainder being crown lands, wastelands,

or commons. Finally, all property rights were subject also to certain “collective” rights by

which villagers might cut fi rewood, run their pigs in the commons, or pasture cattle on land

belonging to other owners after the crops were in, which they could easily do because there

were usually no fences or enclosures.

All this may seem rather complex, but it is important to realize that property is a

changing institution. Even today, in industrialized countries, a high proportion of all prop-

erty is in land, including natural resources in and below the soil. In the eighteenth century

property meant land even more than it does today. The bourgeois class, whose wealth was

so largely in ships, merchandise, or commercial paper, also invested heavily in land, and in

1789 they owned almost as much land in France as the nobility and more than the church.

The Revolution was to revolutionize the law of property by freeing the private ownership

of land from all the traditional and indirect encumbrances described—manorial fees, “emi-

nent property” rights, communal village agricultural practices, and church tithes. It also

was to abolish other older forms of property, such as property in public offi ce or in master-

ships in the guilds, which had worked to the advantage mainly of closed and privileged

groups. In fi nal effect the Revolution defi ned and established the institutions of private

property in the modern sense and therefore brought the greatest economic benefi ts to the

landowning peasants and the bourgeoisie.

The peasants not only owned two-fi fths of the soil but also worked almost all of it

on their own initiative and risk. In effect, the land owned by the nobility, the church, the

bourgeoisie, and the crown was divided up and leased to peasants in small parcels. France

was thus already mainly a country of small farmers. There was no “big agriculture” as

in England, eastern Europe, or the plantations of America. The manorial lord performed

no economic function. He lived (there were of course exceptions) not by managing an

estate and selling his own crops and cattle but by receiving innumerable dues and fees.

During the eighteenth century, in connection with the general aristocratic

resurgence, there took place a phenomenon often called the “feudal reac-

tion.” Manorial lords, faced with rising living costs and acquiring higher

living standards because of the general material progress, collected their

dues more rigorously or revived old ones that had fallen into disuse. Leases and sharecrop-

ping arrangements also became less favorable to the peasants. The farmers, like the wage

earners, were under a steadily increasing pressure. At the same time the peasants resented

the “feudal dues” more than ever because they often regarded themselves as the real own-

ers of the land and viewed the lord as a gentleman of the neighborhood who for no reason

enjoyed a special income and a status different from their own. Resentments arose because

many of the fees and obligations in the property system no longer bore any relation to real

economic usefulness or activity.

The political unity of France, achieved over the centuries by the monarchy, was like-

wise a fundamental prerequisite, and even a cause, of the Revolution. Whatever social

conditions might have existed, they could give rise to nationwide public opinion, nation-

wide agitation, nationwide policies, and nationwide legislation only in a country already

politically unifi ed as a nation. These conditions were lacking in central Europe. In France

a centralized French state existed. Reformers did not have to create it but only capture and

The “feudal reaction”

41. Social and Cultural Backgrounds

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Chapter 9 The French Revolution368

remodel it. The French in the eighteenth century already had the sense of membership in

a political entity called France. The Revolution saw a tremendous stirring or expansion of

this sense of membership and of fraternity, turning it into a passion for citizenship, civic

rights, voting powers, and the use of the state and its sovereignty for the public advantage;

but at the very outbreak of the Revolution people could salute each other as citoyen or citoyenne and shout vive la nation!

Political Culture and Public Opinion after 1770

The social and economic resentments that existed among ambitious people in French cit-

ies and among peasants in the French countryside could fi nally explode in a revolution-

ary upheaval because eighteenth-century writers had created a culture that

encouraged political and social criticism. Educated persons in the Third

Estate could draw on Enlightenment conceptions of reason, natural rights,

and historical progress to complain about the irrationality of ancient privi-

leges or the injustice of noble prerogatives. Enlightenment thought provided

a language in which people could now describe their dissatisfactions with the obstacles

that stymied professional or economic ambitions.

It has been argued that the famous works of the French philosophes led directly to the

revolutionary events of 1789; it was the “fault” of Voltaire, critics explained; it was the

“fault” of Rousseau. Many who supported the Revolution also made such claims for its

intellectual origins, so that the history of the French Revolution has always been linked in

complex ways with the legacy of the Enlightenment. Yet most historians now argue that

the connections between the philosophes and the Revolution were by no means as direct as

people once imagined. The philosophes themselves favored enlightened social reforms,

but they were not revolutionaries and, except perhaps for Rousseau, they rarely promoted

the political rights of the lower classes. Their most important publications, including the

famous Encyclopédie, often attracted more readers among the nobility than among the middle classes. Political theory was far less popular than novels or social satires; there was

an enormous audience for Rousseau’s Julie, or the New Héloise, for example, but few persons read the Social Contract. The notion that great Enlightenment writers caused the French Revolution is therefore an inadequate explanation for what happened (much as

claims that bourgeois economic interests caused the Revolution are also inadequate). It is

nevertheless true that the Enlightenment contributed widely to new forms of criticism,

public debate, and “public opinion,” most of which challenged the traditional authority of

the French king and nobles.

The last two decades of the Old Regime were fi lled with intense political controversy

as the monarchy sought unsuccessfully to suppress the traditional French parlements, as

successive ministries sought to raise new revenues, as French journals reported on the new

American state constitutions, and as pamphleteers increasingly attacked the offi cials and

courtiers at Versailles. The critical spirit that had developed in salons, cof-

feehouses, and literary arguments spread rapidly into a developing public

sphere of political debate. The new political pamphlets were scarcely con-

cerned with the subtle nuances of political theory; in fact, many consisted

of little more than scandalous rumors of sexual misconduct or fi nancial corruption in the

affairs of the royal family and government ministries. Stories of corruption in high places

stripped away the once sacred image of the monarchy, the church, and the social hierarchy.

At the same time, the reading public developed an interest in scandalous legal cases that

The Revolution and

the Enlightenment

Critical spirit

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36942. The Revolution and the Reorganization of France

pitted members of the aristocracy against aggrieved persons of the Third Estate or that

revealed immorality and decadence among ancient noble families. Lawyers could publish

their legal briefs without securing the approval of government censors, and, using this

freedom, they bolstered their legal arguments with appeals to popular sentiment or natural

rights. The injustice of inherited privilege thus became a recurring theme in the scandalous

stories of social and personal disputes that French lawyers carried from French courtrooms

to the tribunal of public opinion.

By 1789, in France, educated persons in all social classes were coming to believe what

Voltaire had said after the famous Calas Affair in the 1760s: “Opinion governs the world.”

Campaigns to infl uence public opinion became a powerful political force in French society

during the last decades of the Old Regime, and most such campaigns appealed for pub-

lic support in the name of reason, rights, or justice. In these ways, the critical thought of

Enlightenment culture entered into bitter political confl icts that led fi nally and unexpect-

edly to the Revolution.

42. THE REVOLUTION AND THE REORGANIZATION OF FRANCE

The Financial Crisis

The Revolution was precipitated by a fi nancial collapse of the government. What over-

burdened the government was by no means the costly magnifi cence of the court of Ver-

sailles. Only 5 percent of public expenditures in 1788 was devoted to the upkeep of the

entire royal establishment. What overburdened all governments was war costs, both current

upkeep of armies and navies and the burden of public debt, which in all countries was due

almost totally to the high costs of past wars. In 1788 the French government devoted about

a quarter of its annual expenditure to maintenance of the armed forces and about half to the

payment of its debts. British expenditures showed almost the same distribution. The French

debt stood at almost 4 billion livres. It had been greatly swollen by the War of American

Independence. Yet it was only half as great as the national debt of Great Britain, and less

than a fi fth as heavy per capita. It was less than the debt of the Dutch Republic. It was

apparently no greater than the debt left by Louis XIV three-quarters of a century before. At

that time the debt had been lightened by repudiation. No responsible French offi cial in the

1780s even considered repudiation, a sure sign of the late eighteenth-century expansion

and public infl uence of the well-to-do classes, who were the main government creditors.

Yet the debt could not be carried, for the simple reason that revenues fell

short of necessary expenditures. This in turn was not due to national poverty

but to the tax exemptions and tax evasions of privileged elements and to

complications in the fi scal system, or lack of system, by which much of

what taxpayers paid never came into the hands of the Treasury. We have already described

how the most important tax, the taille, was generally paid only by the peasants—the nobles

being exempt by virtue of their class privilege, and offi ceholders and other wealthy persons

obtaining exemption in various ways. The church too insisted that its property was not

taxable by the state; and its periodic “free gift” to the king, though substantial, was less

than might have been obtained from direct taxation of the church’s land. Thus, although

the country itself was prosperous, the government treasury was empty. The social classes

that enjoyed most of the wealth of the country did not pay taxes corresponding to their

income—and, even worse, they resisted taxation as a sign of inferior status.

Problems of taxation

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Chapter 9 The French Revolution370

A long series of responsible persons—Louis XIV himself, John Law, Maupeou,

Turgot—had seen the need for taxing the privileged classes. Jacques Necker, a Swiss banker

who became director of the fi nances in 1777, made moves in the same direction and, like

his predecessors, was dismissed. His successor, Calonne, as the crisis mounted, came to

even more revolutionary conclusions. In 1786 he produced a program in which enlightened

despotism was tempered by a modest resort to representative institutions. He proposed, in

place of the taille, a general tax to fall on all landowners without exemption, a lightening of

indirect taxes and abolition of internal tariffs to stimulate economic production, and a con-

fi scation of some properties of the church. He also sought to give the propertied elements a

greater interest in the government by proposing the establishment of provincial assemblies

in which all landowners should be represented without regard to estate or order.

Calonne’s program, if carried out, might have solved the fi scal problem and averted

the Revolution. But it struck not only at noble privileges in taxation but also at the three-

fold hierarchic organization of society. Knowing from experience that the

Parlement of Paris would never accept it, Calonne in 1787 convened an

“assembly of notables,” hoping to win its endorsement of his ideas. The

notables insisted on concessions in return, for they wished to share in con-

trol of the government. A deadlock followed; the king dismissed Calonne

and appointed as his successor Loménie de Brienne, the exceedingly worldly-wise arch-

bishop of Toulouse. Brienne tried to push the same program through the Parlement of

Paris. The Parlement rejected it, declaring that only the three estates of the realm, assem-

bled in an Estates General, had authority to consent to new taxes. Brienne and Louis XVI

at fi rst refused, believing that the Estates General, if convened, would be dominated by the

nobility. Like Maupeou and Louis XV, Brienne and Louis XVI tried to break the parle-

ments, replacing them with a modernized judicial system in which the law courts should

have no infl uence over fi nancial policies. This led to a veritable revolt of the nobles. All

the parlements and Provincial Estates resisted; army offi cers refused to serve; the inten-

dants hesitated to act; and noblemen began to organize political clubs and committees of

correspondence. With his government brought to a standstill, and unable to borrow money

or collect taxes, Louis XVI on July 5, 1788, promised to call the Estates General for the

following May. The various classes were invited to elect representatives and also to draw

up lists of their grievances.

From Estates General to National Assembly

Because no Estates General had met in over a century and a half, the king asked for propos-

als on how such an assembly should be organized under modern conditions. This led to an

outburst of public discussion, which soon expanded far beyond all previous campaigns to

infl uence public opinion. Hundreds of political pamphlets appeared, many of them demand-

ing a change in the old system by which the three estates sat in separate chambers, each

chamber voting as a unit. This voting system was widely criticized because it meant, in

practice, that the chamber of the Third Estate was always outnumbered. But in September

1788 the Parlement of Paris, restored to its functions, ruled that the Estates General should

meet and vote as in 1614, in three separate orders.

The nobility, through the Parlement, thus revealed its aim. It had

forced the summoning of the Estates General to protect and enhance its

own political infl uence, and in this way the French nobility initiated the

Revolution. The Revolution began as another victory in the aristocratic resurgence against

the earlier absolutism of the king. The nobles actually had a liberal program: they

Resistance of the

nobles

The aims of the

nobility

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371

demanded constitutional government, guarantees of personal liberty for all, freedom of

speech and press, freedom from arbitrary arrest and confi nement. Many now were even

prepared to give up special privileges in taxation; this might have worked itself out in

time. But in return they hoped to become the preponderant political element in the state. It

was their idea not merely to have the Estates General meet in 1789 but for France to be

henceforth governed through the Estates General, a supreme body in three chambers—

one for nobles, one for a clergy in which the higher offi cers were also nobles, and one for

the Third Estate.

This was precisely what the Third Estate wished to avoid. Lawyers, bankers, business

owners, government creditors, shopkeepers, artisans, working people, and peasants had no

desire to be governed by lords temporal and spiritual. Their hopes for a new, more equi-

table political and legal system formed by the philosophy of the Enlightenment, stirred by

the revolution in America, rose to the utmost excitement when “good king Louis” called

the Estates General. The ruling of the Parlement of Paris in September 1788 thus came to

them as a slap in the face—an unprovoked class insult. The whole Third

Estate turned on the nobility with detestation and distrust. The Abbé Sieyès

in January 1789 published his famous pamphlet What Is the Third Estate?, declaring that the nobility was a useless caste that could be abolished

without loss, that the Third Estate was the one necessary element of society,

that it was identical with the nation, and that the people of the Third Estate thus embodied

(or should embody) the sovereignty of the French nation. Through Sieyès the ideas of

Rousseau’s Social Contract entered the thought of the Revolution. At the same time, even before the Estates General actually met, and not from the books of philosophes so much

as from actual events and conditions, nobles and commoners viewed each other with

fear and suspicion. The Third Estate, which had at fi rst supported the nobles against the

“despotism” of the king’s ministers, now ascribed to the former the worst possible motives.

Bourgeois critics vehemently rejected the political program and ambitions of the nobility.

Class antagonism poisoned the Revolution at the outset and threw many articulate members

of the Third Estate into a radical and destructive mood.

The Estates General met as planned in May 1789 at Versailles. The Third Estate, most

of whose representatives were lawyers, would not accept the division of the orders into

three separate chambers. It insisted that deputies of all three orders should sit as a single

house and vote as individuals; this procedure would give an advantage to the Third Estate,

because the king had granted it as many deputies as the other two orders combined. For

six weeks a deadlock was maintained. On June 13 a few priests, leaving the chamber of

the First Estate, came over and sat with the Third. They were greeted with jubilation. On

June 17 the Third Estate declared itself the “National Assembly.” Louis XVI, under pressure

from the nobles, closed the hall in which it met. The members found a neighboring indoor

tennis court and there, milling about in a babel of confusion and apprehension, swore and

signed the Oath of the Tennis Court on June 20, 1789, affi rming that wherever they gath-

ered, they were the actually existing National Assembly and that they would not disband

until they had drafted a constitution. This was a revolutionary step, for it assumed virtually

sovereign power for a body that had no legal authority. The king ordered members of the

three estates to sit in their separate houses, though he now presented a reforming program

of his own, too late to win the confi dence of the disaffected and in any case continuing the

organization of French society in legal classes. The self-entitled National Assembly refused

to back down. The king faltered, failed to enforce his commands promptly, and allowed the

Assembly to remain in being. In the following days, at the end of June, he summoned about

18,000 soldiers to Versailles.

The Third Estate

reacts

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Chapter 9 The French Revolution372

What had happened was that the king of France, in the dispute raging between nobles

and commoners, chose the nobles. It was traditional in France for the king to oppose and

reduce the autonomous powers of the nobility. For centuries the French monarchy had

drawn strength from urban or bourgeois social groups. All through the eighteenth century

the royal ministers had carried on the struggle against the privileged interests. Only a year

before, Louis XVI had been almost at war with his rebellious aristocracy. In 1789 he failed

to assert himself. He lost control over the Estates General, exerted no leadership, offered no

program until it was too late, and provided no symbol behind which parties could rally. He

failed to make use of the profound loyalty to himself felt by the bourgeoisie

and common people, who yearned for nothing so much as a king who would

stand up for them, as in days of yore, against an aristocracy of birth and sta-

tus. He tried instead, at fi rst, to compromise and postpone a crisis; then

he found himself in the position of having issued orders that the Third Estate

boldly defi ed; and in this complex political predicament he yielded to his wife Marie

Antoinette, to his brothers, and to the court nobles, all of whom told him that his dignity and

authority were outraged and undermined. At the end of June Louis XVI undoubtedly

intended to dissolve the Estates General by military force. But what the Third Estate most

feared was a future in which the king would support the nobles as they sought to control the

Failure of royal

leadership

Convoked for the fi rst time in 175 years, the Estates General met in a large hall at Versailles in May 1789. This picture shows Louis XVI seated on his throne, with deputies of the clergy seated on his right, those of the nobility on his left, and those of the Third Estate facing him at the other end of the hall. (akg-images/Newscom)

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373

government of the country. There was now no going back; the revolt of the Third Estate had

allied Louis XVI with the nobles, and the Third Estate now feared the nobles more than

ever, believing with good reason that they now had the king in their hands.

The Lower Classes in Action

The country meanwhile was falling into social dissolution, as the lower classes, below the

bourgeoisie, moved into open rebellion against their economic and social conditions. For

them too the convocation of the Estates General had seemed to herald a new era. The

grievances of ages, and those that existed equally in other countries than France, rose to

the surface. Short-run conditions were bad. The harvest of 1788 had been poor; the price of

bread, by July 1789, was higher than at any time since the death of Louis XIV. It was also

a time of widening economic depression; the rapid growth of trade since the American war

had suddenly halted, so that wages fell and unemployment spread while scarcity drove

food prices up. The government, paralyzed at the center, could not take its customary

action to relieve the problem of food shortages. The masses were restless everywhere.

Labor trouble broke out; in April a riot of workers devastated a wallpaper factory in Paris.

In the rural districts there was much disorder. Peasants declared that they would pay no

more manorial dues and were refusing to pay taxes. In the best of times the countryside

was troubled by vagrants, beggars, and smugglers who fl ourished along the many tariff

frontiers. Now the business depression reduced the income of honest peasants who engaged

in weaving or other domestic industries in their homes; unemployment and indigence

spread in the country; people were uprooted; and the result was to raise the number of

vagrants to terrifying proportions. It was believed, because nothing was too bad to believe

of the aristocrats (though it was not true), that they were secretly recruiting these

“brigands” for their own purposes to intimidate the Third Estate. The economic and social

crises thus became acutely political.

People in the towns feared that they would be swamped by beggars and desperadoes.

This was true even of Paris, the largest city in Europe except London. The Parisians were

also alarmed by the concentration of troops about Versailles. They began to arm in self-

defense. All classes of the Third Estate took part. Crowds roamed the city, looking for

weapons in arsenals and public buildings. On July 14 they came to the

Bastille, a stronghold built in the Middle Ages to overawe the city, like the

Tower of London in England. It was used as a place of detention for per-

sons with enough infl uence to escape the common jails but was otherwise

in normal times considered harmless; in fact there were few prisoners in

the fortress, and there had been talk, some years before, of tearing it down to make room

for a public park. Now, in the general turbulence, the governor had placed cannons in the

embrasures. The crowd requested him to remove his cannons and to furnish them with

arms. He refused. Through a series of misunderstandings, reinforced by the vehemence

of a few fi rebrands, the crowd turned into a mob, which violently assaulted the fortress

and which, when helped by a few trained soldiers and artillery pieces, persuaded the gov-

ernor to surrender. The mob, enraged by the death of 98 of its members, streamed in and

murdered 6 soldiers of the garrison in cold blood. The governor was also murdered while

under escort to the Town Hall. A few other offi cials met the same fate. Their heads were

cut off, stuck on the ends of pikes, and paraded about the city. While all this happened, the

regular army units on the outskirts of Paris did not stir; their reliability was open to ques-

tion and the authorities were in any case unaccustomed to fi ring on the people.

The storming of the

Bastille

42. The Revolution and the Reorganization of France

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Chapter 9 The French Revolution374

The capture of the Bastille, though not so intended, had the effect of saving the Assem-

bly at Versailles. The king, not knowing what to do, accepted the new situation in Paris. He

recognized a citizens’ committee, which had formed there, as the new municipal govern-

ment. He sent away the troops that he had summoned and commanded the recalcitrants

among nobles and clergy to join in the National Assembly. In Paris and other cities a new

national guard was established to keep order. The Assembly appointed the Marquis de

Lafayette, “the hero of two worlds,” to command the guard in Paris. For insignia Lafayette

combined the colors of the city of Paris, red and blue, with the white of the house of

Bourbon. The French tricolor, emblem of the Revolution and the new sovereign nation,

thus originated in this symbolic fusion of the old and new.

In the rural districts matters went from bad to worse. Vague insecurity

rose to the proportions of a general panic in the Great Fear of 1789, which

spread over the country late in July in the wake of travelers, postal couriers,

and others. The cry was relayed from point to point that “the brigands were

coming.” Peasants, armed to protect their homes and crops and gathered together and work-

ing upon each other’s feelings, turned their attention to the manor houses, burning them in

some cases and in others simply destroying the manorial archives in which fees and dues

The Great Fear of

1789

THE TENNIS COURT OATH by Jacques-Louis David (French, 1748–1825)

This famous picture portrays the momentous decision by members of the Third Estate to con- tinue meeting as the National Assembly of France until they had written a new constitution. The deputies swore their oath at an indoor tennis court because the king had closed the hall in which they had been holding their sessions. (RMN-Grand Palais/Art Resource, NY)

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375

were recorded. The Great Fear became part of a general agrarian insurrection, in which

peasants, far from being motivated by wild alarms, knew perfectly well what they were

doing. They intended to destroy the manorial regime by force.

The Initial Reforms of the National Assembly

The Assembly at Versailles could restore social order only by meeting the demands of the

peasants, but to wipe out all manorial payments would deprive the landed aristocracy of

much of its income; and many bourgeois also owned manors. There was therefore much

perplexity. A small group of deputies prepared a surprise move in the Assembly, choosing

an evening session from which many would be absent. Hence came the “night of August 4.”

A few liberal noblemen, by prearrangement, arose and surrendered their hunting rights,

their banalités, their rights in manorial courts, and feudal and seigneurial privileges gen- erally. What was left of serfdom and all personal servitude was declared ended. Tithes

were abolished. Other deputies repudiated the special privileges of their provinces. All

personal tax privileges were given up. On the main matter, the dues arising from “eminent

property” in the manors, a compromise was adopted. These dues were all abolished but

compensation was to be paid by the peasants to the former owners. The compensation was

in most cases never paid. Eventually, in 1793, in the radical phase of the Revolution, the

provision for compensation was repealed. In the end French peasant landowners rid them-

selves of their manorial obligations without cost to themselves. This was in contrast to

what later happened in most other countries, where peasants, when liberated from mano-

rial obligations, either lost part of their land or were burdened with installment payments

lasting many years.

In a decree summarizing the resolutions of August 4 the Assembly declared fl atly that

“feudalism is abolished.” With legal privilege replaced by legal equality, it proceeded to

map the principles of the new order. On August 26, 1789, it issued the Declaration of the

Rights of Man and Citizen.

The Declaration of 1789 consisted of 17 articles that affi rmed the gen-

eral principles of the new state, which were essentially the rule of law, the

equality of individual citizenship, and the collective national sovereignty

of the people. “Men are born and remain,” declared Article I, “free and

equal in rights.” Man’s natural rights were held to be “liberty, property,

security, and resistance to oppression.” Freedom of thought and religion was guaranteed;

no one might be arrested or punished except by process of law; all persons were declared

eligible for any public offi ce for which they met the requirements. Liberty was defi ned as

the freedom to do anything not injurious to others, which in turn was to be determined

only by law. Law must fall equally upon all persons. Law was the expression of the gen-

eral will, to be made by all citizens or their representatives. The only sovereign was the

nation itself, and all public offi cials and armed forces acted only in its name. Taxes might

be raised only by common consent, all public servants were accountable for their conduct

in offi ce, and the powers of government were to be separated among different branches.

Finally, the state might for public purposes, and under law, confi scate the property of pri-

vate persons, but only with fair compensation. The Declaration, printed in thousands of

leafl ets, pamphlets, and books, read aloud in public places, or framed and hung on walls,

became the catechism of the Revolution in France. When translated into other languages it

soon carried the same message to all of Europe. Thomas Paine’s book The Rights of Man, published in 1791 to defend the French Revolution, gave the phrase a powerful impact

in English.

The Declaration of

the Rights of Man

and Citizen

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Chapter 9 The French Revolution376

The “rights of man” had become a motto or watchword for potentially revolutionary

ideas well before 1789. The thinkers of the Enlightenment had used it, and during the

American Revolution even Alexander Hamilton had spoken of “the sacred rights of man”

with enthusiasm. “Man” in this sense was meant to apply abstractly to the rights of all

people, regardless of nationality, race, or sex. In French as in English the word “man” was

used to designate all human beings, and the Declaration of 1789 was not intended to refer

to males alone. In German, for example, where a distinction is made between Mensch as a human being and Mann as an adult male, the “rights of man” was always translated as Menschenrechte. Similarly the word “citizen” in its general sense applied to women, as is shown by the frequency of the feminine citoyenne during the Revolution, in which a great many women were very active. But when it came to the exercise of specifi c legal rights the

Revolutionaries went no farther than contemporary opinion. Thus they assigned the right

to vote and hold offi ce only to men, and in most matters of property, family law, and edu-

cation it was the boys and men who benefi ted most. Very few persons at the

time argued for full legal and political equality between the sexes.

One of them, however, was Olympe de Gouges, a woman who had

gained prominence as a writer for the theater and who in 1791 published

The Rights of

Woman

The capture of the Bastille—the prison-fortress that became a symbol of Old Regime repression—marked the dramatic entry of the Parisian crowd into the rapidly evolving Revolution. Violence in the streets of Paris in July 1789 saved the National Assembly from the king’s intention to dissolve it. (Bibliothèque nationale de France)

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The Rights of Woman. Following the offi cial Declaration in each of its 17 articles, she applied them to women explicitly in each case, and she asserted also, in addition, the right

of women to divorce under certain conditions, to the control of property in marriage, and

for equal access with men to higher education and to civilian careers and public employ-

ment. Mary Wollstonecraft in England published a similar Vindication of the Rights of Woman in 1792. In France some of the secondary fi gures in the Revolution, and some of the teachers in boys’ schools, thought that women should have greater opportunities at

least in education. And there were in fact a few reforms that improved the social rights of

women. The revolutionary government redefi ned marriage as a civil contract and legalized

divorce in 1792, thereby enabling women to leave abusive or unhappy marriages (until

divorce was banned again in 1816). Inheritance laws were also changed in ways that gave

women the legal right to equal inheritance of their family’s property.

But among the leaders of the Revolution, only Condorcet argued for

legal equality of the sexes. Intent on political change, the revolutionaries

thought that politics, government, law, and war were a masculine business,

for which only boys and young men needed to be educated or prepared. The Revolu-

tion generally reduced or restricted the cultural and political infl uence that some women

had exercised in the elite circles of Old Regime society. The new political order, as most

revolutionaries defi ned it, was to develop through “manly” opposition to the “feminine”

corruptions of the Old Regime court and social hierarchies. “Women are disposed . . . to an

over-excitation which would be deadly in public affairs,” one revolutionary deputy argued

in a typical justifi cation for excluding women from government institutions. Such assump-

tions led to restrictions on the rights of women to petition or gather in political meetings;

fi nally, in 1793, the revolutionary government closed all women’s political clubs—even

though many women had been among the Revolution’s earliest and most active supporters.

Shortly after adoption of the Declaration of the Rights of Man the Revolutionary

leadership fell into multiple factions. In September 1789 the Assembly began the actual

planning of the new government. Some wanted a strong veto power for the king and a leg-

islative body in two houses, as in England. Others, the “patriots,” wanted only a delaying

veto for the king and a legislative body of one chamber. Here again, it was suspicion of the

nobles that proved decisive. The “patriots” were afraid that an upper chamber would bring

Exclusion of women

Although women gained some new rights during the French Revolution, they were denied the right to vote or to hold public offi ce; and women’s political clubs were eventually disbanded. Olympe de Gouges, who is portrayed here in a later engraving, challenged such exclusions in her Declaration of the Rights of Woman (1791) and other writings, thereby provoking strong opposition from revolutionary leaders. She was charged with sedition and put to death during the Terror in 1793. (Kean Collection/Getty Images)

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Chapter 9 The French Revolution378

back the nobility as a collective force, and they were afraid to make the king constitution-

ally strong by giving him a full veto, because they believed him to be in sympathy with

the nobles. His brother, the Count of Artois, followed by many aristocrats, had already

emigrated to foreign parts and, along with these other émigrés, was preparing to agitate

against the Revolution with all the governments of Europe. The patriot party would con-

cede nothing; the more conservative party could gain nothing. The debate was interrupted

again, as in July, by insurrection and violence. On October 4, a crowd of market women

and revolutionary militants, followed by the revolutionary Paris national guard, took the

A WOMAN OF THE REVOLUTION by Jacques-Louis David (French, 1748–1825)

David’s portrait of a lower-class French woman in 1795 suggests the determination of the women who joined the revolutionary Parisian crowds and clubs during the French Revolution; and the painting affi rms in a more general way the revolutionary challenge to traditional social and legal privileges. (Bridgeman-Giraudon/Art Resource, NY)

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379

road from Paris to Versailles. Besieging and invading the château, they forced Louis XVI

and his family to take up residence in Paris, where he could be watched. The National

Assembly also moved to Paris, where it too soon fell under the infl uence of radical ele-

ments in the city. The champions of a one-chamber legislative body and of a suspensive

veto for the king won out.

The more conservative revolutionaries, if such they may be called, disillusioned at see-

ing constitutional questions settled by mobs, began to drop out of the Assembly. Men who

on June 20 had bravely sworn the Oath of the Tennis Court now felt that the Revolution was

falling into unworthy hands. Some even emigrated, forming a second wave of émigrés that

would have nothing to do with the fi rst. The counterrevolution gathered strength.

But those who wanted still to go forward, and they were many, began

to organize in clubs. Most important of all was the Society of Friends of the

Constitution, called the Jacobin club for short, since it met in an old Jacobin

monastery in Paris. The dues were at fi rst so high that only wealthier persons could belong;

the dues were later lowered but never enough to include people of the poorest classes, who

therefore formed clubs of their own. The most advanced members of the Assembly were

Jacobins, who used the club as a caucus in which to discuss their policies and develop their

plans. They remained a middle-class group even during the later and more radical phase

of the Revolution, and numerous women participated in their meetings. Madame Rosalie

Jullien, for example, who was as dedicated a revolutionary as her husband and son,

attended a meeting of the Paris Jacobin club on August 5, 1792. Tell your friends in the

provinces, she wrote to her husband, that these Jacobins are “the fl ower of the Paris bour-

geoisie, to judge by the fancy jackets they wear. There were also two or three hundred

women present, dressed as if for the theater, who made an impression by their proud atti-

tude and forceful speech.”

Constitutional Changes

In the two years from October 1789 to September 1791 the National Assembly (or the

Constituent Assembly, as it had come to be called because it was preparing a constitution)

continued its work of simultaneously governing the country, devising a written constitu-

tion, and destroying in detail the institutions of the Old Regime. The Assembly soon

discarded most of the political and legal institutions that had governed French affairs for

centuries—the old monarchical ministries, the organization of government bureaus, the

taxes and tax exemptions, the private ownership of government positions, the titles of

nobility, the parlements, the hundreds of regional systems of law, the internal tariffs, the

provinces, and the urban municipalities. Contemporaries such as Edmund Burke were

appalled at the thoroughness with which the French seemed determined to eradicate their

national institutions. Why, asked Burke, should the French fanatics cut to pieces the living

body of Normandy or Provence? The truth is that the provinces, like everything else,

formed part of the whole system of special privilege and unequal rights. All had to disap-

pear if the hope of equal citizenship under national sovereignty was to be attained. In place

of the provinces the Constituent Assembly divided France into 83 equal “departments.” In

place of the old towns, with their quaint old magistrates, it introduced a uniform municipal

organization, all towns henceforth having the same form of government, varying only

according to size. All local offi cials, even prosecuting attorneys and tax collectors, were

elected locally. Administratively the country was decentralized in reaction against the

bureaucracy of the Old Regime. No one outside Paris now really acted for the central

The Jacobins

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Chapter 9 The French Revolution380

government, and local communities enforced the national legislation, or declined to enforce

it, as they chose. This proved ruinous when war came, and although the “departments” cre-

ated by the Constituent Assembly still exist, it became common in France after the Revolu-

tion, as it was before, to keep local offi cials under strong control by ministers in Paris.

Under the constitution that was prepared, sometimes called the Constitution of 1791

because it went into effect at that date, the sovereign power of the nation was to be exer-

cised by a unicameral elected assembly called the Legislative Assembly.

The king was given only a suspensive veto power by which legislation

desired by the Assembly could be postponed. In general, the executive

branch, that is, king and ministers, was kept weak, partly in reaction against

“ministerial despotism,” partly from a well-founded distrust of Louis XVI.

In June 1791 Louis attempted to escape from the kingdom, join with émigré noblemen

abroad, and seek help from foreign powers. He left behind him a written message in which

he explicitly repudiated the Revolution. Arrested at Varennes in eastern France, he was

brought back to Paris and forced to accept his status as a constitutional monarch. The hos-

tile attitude of Louis XVI greatly disoriented the Revolution, for it made impossible the

creation of a strong executive power and left the country to be ruled by a debating society,

which under revolutionary conditions contained more than the usual number of hotheads.

Not all this machinery of state was democratic. As noted above, women did not

receive the right to vote or hold public offi ce; and in the granting of political rights to

men the abstract principles of the great Declaration were seriously modifi ed for practi-

cal reasons. Because most people were illiterate, it was thought that they could have no

reasonable political views; and it was assumed that persons such as domestic servants

or shop assistants would merely follow the political views of their employers. The Con-

stituent Assembly therefore distinguished in the new constitution between “active” and

“passive” citizens. Both had the same civil rights, but only active citizens had the right to

vote. These active citizens chose “electors” on the basis of one elector for every hundred

The Constitution of

1791

The three men at an anvil are a noble, a cleric, and a commoner hammering out a new constitu- tion together. At the beginning of the Revolution, most people expected the three estates to frat- ernize in the redefi ned French nation. (Bibliothèque nationale de France)

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381

active citizens. The electors convened in the chief town of their new “department” and

there chose deputies to the national legislature as well as certain local offi cials. Males

over 25 years of age, and wealthy enough to pay a small direct tax, qualifi ed as “active”

citizens; well over half the adult male population could so qualify. Of these, men paying a

somewhat higher tax qualifi ed as “electors”; even so, almost half the adult males qualifi ed

for this role. In practice, what limited the number of available electors was that, to function

as such, a man had to have enough education, interest, and leisure to attend an electoral

assembly at a distance from home and remain in attendance for several days. In any case,

only about 50,000 persons served as electors in 1790–1791 because a proportion of one for

every hundred active citizens yielded that fi gure.

Economic and Cultural Policies

Economic policies favored the middle rather than the lowest classes. The public debt had

precipitated the Revolution, but the revolutionary leaders, even the most extreme Jacobins,

never disowned the debt of the Old Regime. The reason is that the bourgeois class, on

the whole, were the people to whom the money was owed. To secure the debt, and to pay

current expenses of government, because tax collections had become very sporadic, the

Constituent Assembly as early as November 1789 resorted to a device by no means new

in Europe, though never before used on so extensive a scale. It confi scated all the property

of the church. Against this property, it issued negotiable instruments called assignats, fi rst regarded as bonds and issued only in large denominations, later regarded

as currency and issued in small bills. Holders of assignats could use them, or any money, to buy parcels of the former church lands. None of the con-

fi scated land was given away; all was in fact sold, because the interest of the government

was fi scal rather than social. The peasants, even when they had the money, could not easily

buy land because the lands were sold at distant auctions or in large undivided blocks. The

peasants were disgruntled, though they did acquire a good deal of the former church lands

through middlemen. Peasant landowners were likewise expected, until 1793, to pay com-

pensation for many of their old manorial fees. And the landless peasants actively opposed

some of the revolutionary changes when the government, with its modern ideas, encour-

aged the dividing up of the village commons and extinction of various collective village

rights in the interest of individual private property.

The revolutionary leadership favored free economic individualism. It had had enough,

under the Old Regime, of government regulation over the sale or quality of goods and of

privileged companies and other economic monopolies. Reforming economic thought at the

time in France and in Britain, where Adam Smith had published his epoch-making Wealth of Nations in 1776, held that organized special interests were bad for society and that all prices and wages should be determined by free arrangement between the individuals con-

cerned. The more prominent leaders of the French Revolution believed fi rmly in this free-

dom from control. The Constituent Assembly thus abolished the guilds, which were mainly

monopolistic organizations of small businessmen or master craftsmen, interested in keep-

ing up prices for certain goods or services and averse to new machinery or new methods.

There was also in France what we would now call an organized labor movement.

Because the masterships in the guilds were practically hereditary (as a form of property and

privilege), the journeymen had formed their own associations, or trade unions, called

compagnonnages, outside the guilds. Many trades were so organized—the carpenters, plas- terers, paper workers, hatters, saddlers, cutlers, nail makers, carters, tanners, locksmiths,

Assignats

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Chapter 9 The French Revolution382

and glassworkers. Some were organized nationally; some, only locally. All these journey-

men’s unions had been illegal under the Old Regime, but they had fl ourished nevertheless.

They collected dues and maintained offi cers. They often dealt collectively with the guild

masters or other employers, requiring the payment of a stipulated wage or change of work-

ing conditions. Sometimes they even imposed closed shops. Organized strikes were quite

common. The labor troubles of 1789 continued on into the Revolution. Business fell off in

the atmosphere of disorder. In 1791 there was another wave of strikes. The

Assembly, in the Le Chapelier law of that year, renewed the old prohibitions

of the compagnonnages. The same law restated the abolition of the guilds and forbade the organization of special economic interests of any kind. All

trades, it declared, were free for all to enter. All persons, without belonging

to any organization, had the right to work at any occupation or business they might choose.

All wages were to be settled privately by the worker and his or her employer. This was not

at all what the workers, at that time or any other, really wanted. Nevertheless the provisions

of the Le Chapelier law remained a part of French law for three-quarters of a century. The

embryonic trade unions continued to exist secretly, though with more diffi culty than under

the hit-and-miss law enforcement of the Old Regime.

Meanwhile, revolutionary activists set about transforming the symbols, rituals, dress,

and holidays of Old Regime society. Seeking to break from the hierarchies and privileges of

the past, they developed a new political culture that would be symbolized by a new tricolor

fl ag, new forms of democratic language, new clothing, new festivals, and new public monu-

ments. The art and imagery of the traditional monarchy and church rapidly disappeared

from public life. Great festivals of national unity were organized, beginning with the famous

“Festival of the Federation,” which brought together a vast crowd in Paris to

mark the fi rst anniversary of the assault on the Bastille (July 14, 1790), to

celebrate the new liberties of the French people and to create new rituals for

what would eventually become the French national holiday.

Banning labor

organizations

A revolutionary

political culture

The revolutionary government used paper money to fi nance its policies. The notes were called assignats because they were assigned to, or secured by, real estate confi scated during the Revolution, mostly from the church. Infl ation rose rapidly after 1794, so that even notes with denominations as high as 10,000 livres, as shown in this picture, became worthless. The assignats were therefore abolished, and a new, more stable French currency came into use in 1796. (Gianni Dagli Orti/The Art Archive at Art

Resource, NY)

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383

Supporters of the Revolution planted “liberty trees” in towns throughout France, and

they began to wear “liberty caps” and tricolor cockades to show their political allegiances.

Later revolutionary governments encouraged new artwork in which the nation came to be

represented by a female symbol of liberty, Marianne. Statues of Marianne offered alter-

natives to traditional Catholic icons of the Virgin Mary and gave illiterate persons new

visual images by which they could understand that national sovereignty and liberty had

replaced the king and church at the symbolic center of French political life. A profusion of

revolutionary plays, novels, and songs conveyed the same message. By promoting the new

political ideas and symbols in every sphere of daily life, the French Revolution created a

new national identity and “nationalized” the French people through the use of cultural ritu-

als that would later become common in other national movements of the modern world.

The Quarrel with the Church

Most fatefully of all, the Constituent Assembly quarreled with the Catholic Church. The

confi scation of church properties came as a shock to the clergy. The village priests, whose

support had made possible the revolt of the Third Estate, now found that the very buildings

in which they worshipped with their parishioners on Sunday belonged to the “nation.” The

loss of income-producing properties undercut the religious orders and ruined the schools,

in which thousands of boys had received free education before the Revolution. Yet it was

not on the question of material wealth that the church and the Revolution came to blows.

Members of the Constituent Assembly took the view of the church that the great monar-

chies had taken before them. The idea of separation of church and state was far from their

minds. They regarded the church as a form of public authority and as such subordinate to

the sovereign power. They frankly argued that the poor needed religion if they were to

respect the property of the more wealthy. In any case, having deprived the church of its

own income, they had to provide for its maintenance. For the schools many generous and

democratic projects of state-sponsored education were drawn up, though under the trou-

bled conditions of the times little was accomplished. For the clergy the new

program was mapped out in the Civil Constitution of the Clergy of 1790.

This document went far toward setting up a French national church.

Under its provisions the parish priests and bishops were elected, the latter

by the same 50,000 electors who chose other important public offi cials.

Protestants, Jews, and agnostics could legally take part in the elections, purely on the

ground of citizenship and property qualifi cations. Archbishoprics were abolished, and all

the borders of existing bishoprics were redrawn. The number of dioceses was reduced

from over 130 to 83, so that one would be coterminous with each department. Bishops

were allowed merely to notify the pope of their elevation; they were forbidden to acknowl-

edge any papal authority on their assumption of offi ce, and no papal letter or decree was

to be published or enforced in France except with government permission. All clergy

received salaries from the state; the average income of bishops was somewhat reduced and

that of parish clergymen was raised. Sinecures, plural holdings, and other abuses by which

the church had supported noble families were done away with. The Constituent Assembly

(independently of the Civil Constitution) also prohibited the taking of religious vows and

dissolved all monastic houses.

Some of these church reforms were not in principle alarmingly new, because before

the Revolution the civil authority of the king had designated the French bishops and passed

judgement on the admission of papal documents into France. French bishops, in the old

The Civil

Constitution of the

Clergy

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Chapter 9 The French Revolution384

spirit of the “Gallican liberties,” had traditionally resisted papal power in France. Many

were now willing to accept something like the Civil Constitution if allowed to produce

it on their own authority. The Assembly refused to concede so much jurisdiction to the

Gallican Church and applied instead to the pope, hoping to force its plans upon the French

clergy by invoking the authority of the Vatican. But the Vatican pronounced the Civil

Constitution a wanton usurpation of power over the Catholic Church. Unfortunately, the

pope also went further, condemning the whole Revolution and all its works. The Constitu-

ent Assembly retorted by requiring all French clergy to swear an oath of loyalty to the

constitution, including the Civil Constitution of the Clergy. Half took the oath and half

refused it, the latter half including all but seven of the bishops. One of the seven willing

to accept the new arrangements was Talleyrand, soon to be famous as foreign minister of

numerous French governments.

There were now two churches in France, one clandestine, the other offi cial, one main-

tained by voluntary offerings or by funds smuggled in from abroad, the other fi nanced and

sponsored by the government. The former, comprising the nonjuring, unsworn, or “refrac-

tory” clergy, turned violently counterrevolutionary. To protect themselves from the Revolu-

tion they insisted, with an emphasis quite new in France, on the universal religious supremacy

of the Roman pontiff. They denounced the “constitutional” clergy as schismatics who

spurned the pope and as mere careerists willing to hold jobs on the government’s terms. The

constitutional clergy, those taking the oath and upholding the Civil Constitution, considered

themselves to be patriots and defenders of the universal rights of man; and they insisted that

the Gallican Church had always enjoyed a degree of liberty from Rome. The Catholic laity

were terrifi ed and puzzled. Many were suffi ciently attached to the Revolution to prefer the

constitutional clergy but to do so meant to defy the pope, and Catholics who persisted in

defying the pope were on the whole those least zealous in their religion. The constitutional

clergy therefore stood on shaky foundations. Many of their followers, under stress of the

times, eventually turned against Christianity itself.

Good Catholics tended to favor the “refractory” clergy. The outstand-

ing example was the king himself. He personally used the services of refrac-

tory priests, and thus gave a new reason for the revolutionaries to distrust

him. Whatever chance there was that Louis XVI might go along with the

“Constitutional” and

“refractory” clergy

The revolutionaries created rituals and symbols to celebrate the new nation they were trying to establish. The great festival of the Federation in Paris on July 14, 1790, assembled the king, the National Guard, and a huge crowd in a symbolic expression of the national unity and national liberties that the new political institutions were supposed to protect. (Bridgeman- Giraudon/Art Resource, NY)

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38543. The Revolution and Europe: The War and the “Second” Revolution, 1792

Revolution now disappeared, for he concluded that he could do so only by endangering his

immortal soul. Former aristocrats also naturally preferred the refractory clergy. They now

put aside the Voltairean levities of the Age of Enlightenment, and the “best people” began

to exhibit a new piety in religious matters. The peasants, who found little in the Revolu-

tion to interest them after their own insurrection of 1789 and the consequent abolition of

the manorial regime, also favored the old-fashioned or refractory clergy. Much the same

was true of the urban working-class families, in which both men and women might shout

against priests and yet want to be sure that their marriages were valid and their children

were properly baptized. The Constituent Assembly, and its successors, could never fi nally

decide what to do. Sometimes they shut their eyes at the intrigues of refractory clergy, in

which case the constitutional clergy then became fearful. Sometimes they hunted out and

persecuted the refractories; in that case they only stirred the passions of the most devoutly

religious persons and social groups.

The Civil Constitution of the Clergy has been called the greatest tactical blunder of the

Revolution. Certainly its consequences were unfortunate in the extreme, and they spread

to much of Europe. In the nineteenth century the Catholic Church became offi cially anti-

democratic and antiliberal; and democrats and liberals in most cases became outspokenly

anticlerical. The main benefi ciary was the papacy. The French Catholic Church, which

had clung for ages to its Gallican liberties, was thrown by the Revolution into the arms of

the pope. Even Napoleon, when he healed the religious schism a decade later, acknowl-

edged powers in the papacy that had never been acknowledged by the French kings. These

were steps in the process, leading through the proclamation of papal infallibility in 1870,

by which the affairs of the modern Catholic Church became increasingly centralized at

the Vatican.

With the proclamation of the constitution in September 1791, the Constituent Assem-

bly disbanded. Before dissolving, it ruled that none of its members might sit in the forth-

coming Legislative Assembly. This body was therefore made up of men who still wished

to make their mark in the Revolution. The new regime went into effect in October 1791.

It was a constitutional monarchy in which a unicameral Legislative Assembly confronted

a king unconverted to the new order. Designed as a permanent system for the modern

governance of France and for the protection of the rights of man, it was to collapse in

10 months, in August 1792, as a result of popular insurrection four months after France

became involved in war. A group of Jacobins, known as Girondins, for a time became

the left or advanced party of the Revolution and in the Legislative Assembly they led

France into war.

43. THE REVOLUTION AND EUROPE: THE WAR AND THE “SECOND” REVOLUTION, 1792

The International Impact of the Revolution

The European governments were long reluctant to become involved with France. They

were under considerable pressure. On the one hand, pro-French and pro-revolutionary

groups appeared immediately in many quarters. The doctrines of the French Revolution, as

of the American, were highly exportable: they took the form of a universal philosophy,

proclaiming the rights of man regardless of time or place, race or nation. Moreover,

depending on what one was looking for, one might see in the fi rst disturbances in France a

revolt of either the nobility, the bourgeoisie, the common people, or the entire nation. In

Poland those who were trying to reorganize the country against further partition hailed the

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Chapter 9 The French Revolution386

French example. The Hungarian landlords pointed to it in their reaction against Joseph II.

In England, for a time, those who controlled Parliament complacently believed that the

French were attempting to imitate them.

But it was the excluded classes of European society who were most

inspired. The hard-pressed Silesian weavers were said to hope that “the

French would come.” Strikes broke out at Hamburg, and peasants rebelled

elsewhere. One English diplomat found that even the Prussian army had “a

strong taint of democracy among offi cers and men.” In England the newly

developing “radicals,” men like Thomas Paine and Dr. Richard Price, who wished a thor-

ough overhauling of Parliament and the established church, entered into correspondence

with the Assembly in Paris. Business leaders of importance, including Watt and Boulton, the

pioneers of the steam engine, were likewise pro-French because they had no representation

in the House of Commons. The Irish too were excited and presently revolted. Everywhere

the young were aroused, the young Hegel in Germany or in England the young Wordsworth,

who later recalled the sense of a new era that had captivated so many spirits in 1789:

Bliss was it in that dawn to be alive, But to be young was very heaven!

On the other hand the anti-Revolutionary movement gathered strength.

Edmund Burke, frightened by the French proclivities of English radicals,

published as early as 1790 his Refl ections on the Revolution in France. For France, he predicted anarchy and dictatorship. For England, he sternly

advised the English to accept a slow adaptation of their own English liber-

ties. For all the world, he denounced a political philosophy that rested on abstract prin-

ciples of right and wrong, declaring that every people must be shaped by its own national

circumstances, national history, and national character. He drew an eloquent reply and

a defense of France from Thomas Paine in the Rights of Man—an infl uential book that argued for the universality of inalienable human rights. Burke soon began to preach the

necessity of war, urging a kind of ideological struggle against French barbarism and vio-

lence. His Refl ections was translated and read throughout Europe, becoming in the long run an important work in the emergence of modern conservative thought. In the short

run it fell on willing ears. The king of Sweden, Gustavus III, offered to lead a monarchist

crusade. In Russia Empress Catherine was appalled; she forbade further translations of

her erstwhile friend Voltaire, she called the French “vile riffraff” and “brutish cannibals,”

and she packed off to Siberia a Russian named Radischev, who in his Voyage from St. Petersburg to Moscow pointed out the evils of serfdom. The terrors were heightened by plaintive messages from Louis XVI and Marie Antoinette and by the angry émigrés who

were constantly leaving France and who were led as early as July 1789 by the king’s own

brother, the Count of Artois. The fi rst émigrés were almost all nobles, and they settled in

various parts of Europe where they could use their international aristocratic connections

to preach a kind of holy war against the evils of revolution. They bemoaned the sad plight

of the king, but what they most wanted was to get back their manorial incomes and other

rights. Extremists among the émigrés even hinted that Louis XVI himself was a dangerous

revolutionary and much preferred his brother, the unyielding Count of Artois.

In short, Europe was soon split by a division that overran all frontiers. The same was

true also in the wider Atlantic world. In the United States the rising party of Jefferson

was branded as Jacobin and pro-French, that of Hamilton as aristocratic and pro-British,

while pro-revolutionary and anti-revolutionary groups fell into violent confl icts within the

French Caribbean colony at Saint-Domingue. A new interest in independence began to

Inspiration of the

Revolution

Anti-Revolutionary

sentiment

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387

spread among some Latin Americans, including the Venezuelan Francisco de Miranda,

who became a general in the French army. In all countries of the European world, though

least of all in eastern and southern Europe, there were revolutionary or pro-French ele-

ments that were feared by their own governments. In all countries, including France, there

were implacable enemies of the French Revolution. In all countries there were people

whose political ideas and local confl icts increasingly expressed their strong support or

deep hostility for the revolutionary changes in France. There had been no such situa-

tion since the Protestant Reformation, nor was there anything like it again until after the

Russian Revolution of the twentieth century.

The Coming of the War, April 1792

Yet the European governments were slow to move. Catherine had no intention of becom-

ing involved in western Europe. She only wished to involve her neighbors. William Pitt,

the British prime minister, resisted the war cries of Burke. Pitt had failed to carry a plan

for reform of Parliament and was now concentrating on a policy of orderly fi nance and

systematic economy. His domestic program would be ruined by war. He insisted that the

internal affairs of France were of no concern to the British government. The key position

was occupied by the Habsburg emperor, Leopold II, brother to the French queen. Leopold

at fi rst answered Marie Antoinette’s pleas for help by telling her to adjust herself to con-

ditions in France. He resisted the furious demands of the émigrés, whom he understood

perfectly, having inherited from Joseph II a fractious aristocracy himself.

Still, the new French government was a disturbing phenomenon. It openly encouraged

malcontents all over Europe. It showed a tendency to settle international affairs by unilat-

eral action. For example, it annexed Avignon at the request of local revolutionaries but

without the consent of its historic sovereign, the pope. Or again, in Alsace there had been

much overlapping jurisdiction between France and Germany ever since the Peace of

Westphalia in 1648 (see maps, pp. 144–145, 184, 327). The Constituent Assembly abol-

ished traditional manorial dues in Alsace as elsewhere in France. To German princes who

had long held rights to these payments in Alsace the Assembly offered compensation, but

it did not ask their consent. Moreover, after the arrest of Louis XVI at Varennes, after his

attempted fl ight in June 1791, it became impossible to deny that the French

king and queen were prisoners of the revolutionaries.

In August 1791 Leopold met with the king of Prussia at Pillnitz in

Saxony. The resulting Declaration of Pillnitz rested on a famous if: Leopold would take military steps to restore order in France if all the other powers

would join him. Knowing the attitude of Pitt, he believed that such an agreement could

never materialize. His aim was mainly to rid himself of the French émigrés, but the

émigrés perversely received the Declaration with delight. They used it as an open threat

to their enemies in France, announcing that they would soon return alongside the forces

of civilized Europe to punish the guilty and right the wrongs that had been done to them.

In France the upholders of the Revolution were alarmed. They were ignorant of what

Leopold really meant and took the dire menaces of the émigrés at their face value.

The Declaration of Pillnitz, far from cowing the French, enraged them against all the

crowned heads of Europe. It gave a political advantage to the then dominant faction of

Jacobins, known to history as the Girondins. These included the philosophe Condorcet, the

humanitarian lawyer Brissot, and the civil servant Roland and his more famous wife,

Madame Roland, whose house became a kind of headquarters for the group. They attracted

many foreigners also, such as Thomas Paine and the German Anacharsis Cloots, the

The Declaration of

Pillnitz

43. The Revolution and Europe: The War and the “Second” Revolution, 1792

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Chapter 9 The French Revolution388

“representative of the human race.” In December 1791 a deputation of English radicals, led

by James Watt, son of the inventor of the steam engine, received a wild ovation at the Paris

Jacobin club.

The Girondins became the party of international revolution. They declared that the

Revolution could never be secure in France until it spread to the world. In their view, once

war had come, the peoples of states at war with France would not support

their own governments. There was reason for this belief, because revolu-

tionary elements antedating the French Revolution already existed in both

the Dutch and the Austrian Netherlands, and to a lesser degree in parts of

Switzerland, Poland, and elsewhere. Some Girondins therefore contemplated a war in

which French armies should enter neighboring countries, unite with local revolutionaries,

overthrow the established governments, and set up a federation of republics. War was also

favored by a very different group, led by Lafayette, which wished to curb the Revolution

by holding it at the moderate political limits of constitutional monarchy. This group mis-

takenly believed that war might restore the much damaged popularity of Louis XVI, unite

the country under the new government, and make it possible to put down the continuing

Jacobin agitation. As the war spirit boiled up in France, the Emperor Leopold II died.

He was succeeded by Francis II, a man much more inclined than Leopold to yield to the

clamors of the old aristocracy. Francis resumed negotiations with Prussia. In France all

who dreaded a return of the Old Regime listened more readily to the Girondins. Among

the Jacobins as a whole, only a few, generally a handful of radical democrats, opposed the

war. On April 20, 1792, without serious opposition, the Assembly declared war on “the

king of Hungary and Bohemia,” that is, the Austrian monarchy.

The “Second” Revolution: August 10, 1792

The war intensifi ed the existing unrest and dissatisfaction of the unpropertied classes. Both

peasants and urban workers felt that the Constituent and the Legislative Assembly had

served the propertied interests and had done little for them. Peasants were dissatisfi ed with

the inadequate measures taken to facilitate land distribution; workers felt especially the

pinch of soaring prices, which by 1792 had greatly risen. Gold had been taken out of the

country by the émigrés; paper money, the assignats, was almost the sole currency, and the future of the government was so uncertain that it steadily lost value.

Peasants concealed their food products rather than sell them for depreciat-

ing paper. Actual scarcity combined with the falling value of money to drive

up the cost of living. The lowest income groups suffered the most. But dis-

satisfi ed though they were, when the war began they were threatened with a

return of the émigrés and a vindictive restoration of the Old Regime, which at least for the

peasants would be the worst of all possible eventualities. The working classes—peasants,

artisans, mechanics, shopkeepers, wage workers—rallied to the Revolution but not to the

revolutionary government in power. The Legislative Assembly and the constitutional mon-

archy lacked the confi dence of large elements of the population.

In addition, the war at fi rst went very unfavorably for the French. Prussia joined imme-

diately with Austria, and by the summer of 1792 the two powers were on the point of invad-

ing France. They issued a proclamation to the French people, the Brunswick Manifesto of

July 25 declaring that if any harm befell the French king and queen the Austro-Prussian

forces, upon their arrival in Paris, would exact the most severe retribution from the inhabit-

ants of that city. Such menaces, compounding the military emergency, only played into the

France goes to war

Economic

dissatisfaction

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38944. The Emergency Republic, 1792–1795: The Terror

hands of the most violent activists. Masses of the French people, roused and guided by a

more radical faction of Jacobin leaders, notably Robespierre, Danton, and the vitriolic jour-

nalist Marat, burst out in a passion of patriotic excitement. They turned against the king

because he was identifi ed with the foreign powers at war with France and also because, in

France itself, those who still supported him were using the monarchy as defense against the

lower classes. Republicanism in France was partly a rather sudden historical accident, in

that France was at war under a king who could not be trusted, and partly a kind of popular

lower-class movement against the traditional nobility, in which, however, many bourgeois

revolutionaries shared.

Feeling ran high during the summer of 1792. Recruits streamed into Paris from all

quarters on their way to the frontiers. One detachment, from Marseilles, brought with

them a new marching song, known ever since as the Marseillaise, a fi erce call to war upon tyranny. The transient provincials stirred up the agitation

in Paris. On August 10, 1792, the working-class quarters of the city rose

in revolt, supported by the recruits from Marseilles and elsewhere. They

stormed the Tuileries against resistance by the Swiss Guard, many of whom

were massacred, and seized and imprisoned the king and the royal family. A revolution-

ary municipal government, or “Commune,” was set up in Paris. Usurping the powers of

the Legislative Assembly, it forced the abrogation of the constitution and the election, by

universal male suffrage, of a Constitutional Convention that was to govern France and

prepare a new and more democratic constitution. The very word Convention was used

in recollection of the American Constitutional Convention in 1787. Meanwhile hysteria,

anarchy, and terror reigned in Paris; mobs of insurrectionary volunteers, declaring that

they would not fi ght enemies on the frontiers until they had disposed of enemies in Paris,

dragged about 1,100 persons—common criminals, refractory priests, and other alleged

counterrevolutionaries—from the prisons of the city and killed them after drumhead trials,

in brutal executions known as the “September massacres.”

For nearly three years, since October 1789, there had been an abatement of popular

violence. Now the coming of the war and the dissatisfaction of the lower classes with

the recent course of events had led to new explosions. The insurrection of August 10,

1792, the “second” French Revolution, initiated the most radical and violent phase of the

Revolution.

44. THE EMERGENCY REPUBLIC, 1792–1795: THE TERROR

The National Convention

The National Convention met on September 20, 1792; it was to sit for three years. It imme-

diately proclaimed the beginning of a new era: Year I of the French Republic. The disor-

ganized French armies, also on September 20, won a great moral victory in

the “cannonade of Valmy,” a battle that was hardly more than an artillery

duel, but which induced the Prussian commander to give up his march on

Paris. The French soon occupied Belgium (the Austrian Netherlands), the

Savoy region near the Swiss-Italian border (which belonged to the king of

Sardinia, who had joined with the Austrians), and Mainz and other cities on the German

Left Bank of the Rhine. Revolutionary sympathizers in these places appealed for French

aid. The National Convention decreed assistance to “all peoples wishing to recover their

Agitation and

violence in Paris

Spread of the

Revolution

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Chapter 9 The French Revolution390

liberty.” It also ordered that French generals, in the occupied areas, should dissolve the old

governments; confi scate government and church property; abolish tithes, hunting rights,

and seigneurial dues; and set up provisional administrations. Thus revolution spread in the

wake of the successful French armies.

The British and Dutch now prepared to resist. Pitt, still insisting that the French might

have any domestic regime that they chose, declared that Great Britain could not tolerate the

French occupation of Belgium. The British and Dutch began conversations with Prussia

and Austria, and the French declared war on them on February 1, 1793. Within a few

weeks the Republic had annexed Savoy and Nice, as well as Belgium, and had much of the

German Rhineland under its military government (see map, p. 404). Meanwhile, in eastern

Europe, while denouncing the rapacity of the French Jacobins, the rulers of Russia and

Prussia, as we have seen, came to an arrangement of their own, each appropriating a por-

tion of Poland in the second partition in January 1793. The Austrians, excluded from this

second partition, became anxious about their interests in eastern Europe. The infant French

Republic, now at war with all Europe, was saved by the weakness of the Coalition, for

Britain and Holland had no land forces of consequence and Prussia and Austria were too

jealous of each other, and too preoccupied with Poland, to commit the bulk of their armies

against France.

In the Convention all the leaders were Jacobins, but the Jacobins were

again splitting. The Girondins were no longer the most advanced revolu-

tionary group as they had been in the Legislative Assembly. Beside the

Girondins appeared a new group, whose members preferred to sit in the

highest seats in the hall, and therefore were dubbed the “Mountain” in the political lan-

guage of the day. The leading Girondins came from the great provincial cities; the leading

Montagnards, though mostly of provincial birth, represented Paris and owed most of their

political strength to the radical and popular elements in that city.

These popular revolutionists, outside the Convention, proudly called themselves

“sans-culottes,” because they wore the workingman’s long trousers, not the knee breeches

or culottes of the middle and upper classes. They were the working class of a preindustrial age, shopkeepers and shop assistants, skilled artisans in various trades, including some

who were owners of small manufacturing or handicraft enterprises. For two years their

militancy and their activism pressed the Revolution forward. They demanded a broader

equality that would be meaningful for people like themselves, they called for a mighty

effort against foreign powers that presumed to intervene in the French Revolution, and they

denounced the now deposed king and queen (correctly enough) for collusion with the

Austrian enemy. The sans-culottes feared that the Convention might be too moderate. They

favored direct democracy in their neighborhood clubs and assemblies, together with a

mass rising if necessary against the Convention itself. The Girondins in the Convention

began to dismiss these popular militants as anarchists. The group known as the Mountain

was more willing to work with them, so long at least as the emergency lasted.

The Convention put Louis XVI on trial for treason in December 1792.

On January 15 it unanimously pronounced him guilty, but on the next

day, out of 721 deputies present, only 361 voted for immediate execution,

a majority of one. Louis XVI died on the guillotine forthwith. The 361

deputies were henceforth branded for life as regicides; never could they

allow, in safety to themselves, a restoration of the Bourbon monarchy in

France. The other 360 deputies were not similarly compromised; their rivals called them

Girondins, “moderatists,” or counterrevolutionaries. All who still wanted more from the

The Jacobins split

The execution of the

king

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391

Revolution, or who feared that the slightest wavering would bring the Allies and the émi-

grés into France, now looked to the Mountain wing of the Jacobins.

Background to the Terror

In April 1793 the most prominent French general, Dumouriez, who had won the victo-

ries in Belgium fi ve months before, defected to Austria. The Allied armies now drove the

French from Belgium and again threatened to invade France. Counterrevolutionaries in

France exulted. From the revolutionaries went up the cry, “We are betrayed!” Prices con-

tinued to rise, the currency fell, food was harder to obtain, and the working classes were

increasingly restless. The sans-culottes demanded price controls, currency controls, ration-

ing, legislation against the hoarding of food, and requisitioning to enforce the circulation

of goods. They denounced bourgeois traders as profi teers and exploiters of the people.

While the Girondins resisted, the Mountain went along with the sans-culottes, partly from

sympathy with their ideas, partly to win mass support for the war, and partly as a maneu-

ver against the Girondins. On May 31, 1793, the Commune of Paris, under pressure from

the sans-culottes assembled a host of demonstrators and insurrectionists who invaded the

Convention and forced the arrest of the Girondin leaders. Other Girondins fl ed into hiding,

including Condorcet, who wrote his famous book, Progress of the Human Mind, before he was captured and put in prison, where he soon died.

The Mountain now ruled in the Convention, but the Convention itself ruled very little.

Not only were the foreign armies and the émigrés bent on destroying the Convention as a

band of regicides and social incendiaries, but the authority of the Convention was also

widely repudiated within France itself. In the west, in the Vendée, the peasants had revolted

against military conscription; they were worked upon by refractory priests, British agents,

and royalist emissaries of the Count of Artois. The great provincial cities, Lyons,

Bordeaux, Marseilles, and others, had also rebelled, especially after the fugitive Girondins

reached them. These “federalist” rebels demanded a more “federal” or decentralized

republic. Like the Vendéans, with whom they had no connection, they objected to the

ascendancy of Paris, having been accustomed to more regional independence under the

Old Regime. These rebellions became counterrevolutionary, because all sorts of foreign-

ers, royalists, émigrés, and clericals streamed in to assist them.

The Convention had to defend itself against extremists of the Left as

well. To the genuine mass action of the sans-culottes were now added the

voices of even more excited militants called enragés. Various organizers, enthusiasts, agitators, and neighborhood politicians declared that parlia-

mentary methods were useless. Generally they were men outside the Convention—and

also women, for women were particularly sensitive to the crisis of food shortage and soar-

ing prices, and an organization of Revolutionary Republican Women helped to mobilize

the sans-culottes in 1793 (until the suppression of women’s political clubs). All such activ-

ists worked through units of local government in Paris and elsewhere as well as in thou-

sands of “popular societies” and provincial clubs throughout the whole country. They also

formed “revolutionary armies,” semimilitary bands that scoured the rural areas for food,

denounced suspects, and preached revolution.

As for the Convention, while it cannot be said to have had any commanding leaders,

the program it followed for about a year was on the whole that of Maximil-

ien Robespierre, himself a Jacobin but not one to go along forever with

popular revolution or anarchy. Robespierre is one of the most argued about

The Convention

under attack

Robespierre

44. The Emergency Republic, 1792–1795: The Terror

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Chapter 9 The French Revolution392

and least understood fi gures in history. Persons accustomed to stable conditions dismiss

him with a shudder as a bloodthirsty fanatic, dictator, and demagogue. Others have consid-

ered him an idealist, a visionary, and an ardent patriot whose goals and ideals were at least

avowedly democratic. All agree on his personal honesty and integrity and on his revolu-

tionary zeal. He was by origin a lawyer from northern France, educated with the aid of

scholarships in Paris. He had been elected in 1789 to sit for the Third Estate in the Estates

General, and in the ensuing Constituent Assembly played a minor role, though calling

attention to himself by his views against capital punishment and in favor of universal suf-

frage. During the time of the Legislative Assembly, in 1791–1792, he continued to agitate

for democracy and vainly pleaded against the declaration of war. In the Convention,

elected in September 1792, he sat for a Paris constituency. He became a prominent mem-

ber of the Mountain and welcomed the purge of the Girondins. He had always kept free of

the bribery and graft in which some others became involved and for this reason was known

as the Incorruptible. He was a great believer in the importance of “virtue,” a term that the

philosophes had used in a specialized way. Both Montesquieu and Rousseau, for example,

A wave of popular violence in Paris in 1792 led to the fall of the monarchy and the procla- mation of a new French republic. Angry crowds pulled down the symbols of the old regime, including this statue of Louis XIV. (akg-images/Newscom)

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393

had held that republics depended upon virtue, or unselfi sh public spirit and civic zeal,

to which was added, under Rousseauist infl uence, a somewhat sentimentalized idea of

personal uprightness and purity of life. Robespierre was determined, in 1793 and 1794, to

bring about a democratic republic made up of good, virtuous, and honest citizens.

The P rogram of the Convention, 1793–1794: The Terror

The program of the Convention, which Robespierre helped to form, was to repress anar-

chy, civil strife, and counterrevolution at home and to win the war by a great national

mobilization of the country’s people and resources. It would prepare a democratic consti-

tution and initiate legislation for the lower classes, but it would not yield to the Paris Com-

mune and other agencies of direct revolutionary action. To conduct the government, the

Convention granted wide powers to a Committee of Public Safety, a group of 12 members

of the Convention who were reelected every month. Robespierre was an infl uential mem-

ber; others were the youthful St. Just, the militant lawyer Couthon, and the army offi cer

Carnot, “organizer of victory.”

To repress the “counterrevolution,” the Convention and the Committee

of Public Safety set up what is popularly known as the “Reign of Terror.”

Revolutionary courts were instituted as an alternative to the lynch law of

the September massacres. A Committee of General Security was created as a kind of

supreme political police. Designed to protect the Revolutionary Republic from its internal

enemies, the Terror struck at those who were in league against the Republic and at those

who were merely suspected of hostile activities. Its victims ranged from Marie Antoinette

and other royalists to numerous early supporters of the Revolution, including the Girondin

leaders and women such as Olympe de Gouges. Before the year 1793–1794 was over,

some of the old Jacobins of the Mountain who had helped inaugurate the Terror also went

to the guillotine.

Many thousands of people died in France at the height of the Revolution. Most deaths

were in places that had openly revolted against the Convention, as in the Vendée in western

France. Some resulted from acts of private vengeance. But if the Terror is understood to

mean the offi cial program of the government, which at one time decreed “terror the order

of the day,” the number who died in it was not large by the brutal standards of the twentieth

century, in which dictatorial governments attempted to wipe out not only their political

opponents but whole social classes or ethnic groups. About 40,000 persons perished in the

Terror thus defi ned, and many others were temporarily imprisoned. About 8 percent of the

victims of the “offi cial” Terror were nobles, but nobles as a class were not

molested unless suspected of political agitation; 14 percent of the victims

were classifi able as bourgeois, mainly of the rebellious southern cities; 6

percent were clergy, while no less than 70 percent were of the peasant and

laboring classes. A democratic republic, founded on the Declaration of the

Rights of Man, was in principle to follow the Terror after the war and the national emer-

gency were over. Meanwhile, however, in 1793–1794, the Terror evolved into a kind of self-

perpetuating revolutionary violence that was inhumane, expansive, irrational, and in some

places a method for mass killings, as at Nantes, where 2,000 persons were loaded on barges

and deliberately drowned. The Terror left long memories in France and created much of

the enduring antipathy to the Revolution and to republicanism.

To conduct the government in the midst of the war emergency the

Committee of Public Safety operated as a joint dictatorship and war cabinet.

It prepared and guided legislation through the Convention. It gained control

The “Reign of Terror”

Victims of the

“Terror”

The Committee of

Public Safety

44. The Emergency Republic, 1792–1795: The Terror

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Chapter 9 The French Revolution394

over the “representatives on mission,” who were members of the Convention on duty with

the armies and in the insurgent areas of France. It established the Bulletin des loix, so that all persons might know what laws they were supposed to enforce or to obey. It central-

ized the administration, converting the swarm of locally elected offi cials left over from the

Constituent Assembly (who were royalists in some places, wild extremists, in others) into

centrally appointed “national agents” named by the Committee of Public Safety.

To win the war the Committee proclaimed the levée en masse, calling on all able- bodied men to join the army and all other French citizens to serve the revolutionary nation

in whatever ways they could. It recruited scientists to work on armaments and muni-

tions. The most prominent French scientists of the day, including Lagrange and Lamarck,

worked for or were protected by the government of the Terror, though one, Lavoisier,

“father of modern chemistry,” was guillotined in 1794 because he had been involved in

tax farming before 1789. For military reasons also the Committee instituted economic

controls, which at the same time met the demands of the enragés and other working-class spokesmen. The value of the assignats ceased to fall during the year of the Terror. Thus the government protected both its own purchasing power and that of the masses. It did

so by controlling the export of gold, by confi scating specie and foreign currency from

French citizens, to whom it paid assignats in return, and by legislation against hoarding

or the withholding of goods from the market. Food and supplies for the armies, and for

civilians in the towns, were raised and allocated by a system of requisitions, centralized in

a Subsistence Commission under the Committee of Public Safety. A “general maximum”

set ceilings for prices and wages. It helped to check infl ation during the crisis, but it did

not work very well; the Committee believed, in principle, in a free market economy and

lacked the technical and administrative machinery to enforce thorough controls. By 1794

it was giving freer rein to private enterprise and to the peasants to encourage production.

It tried also to hold down wages and in that respect lost the adherence of many working-

class leaders.

In June 1793 the Committee produced, and the Convention adopted, a republican con-

stitution that provided for universal male suffrage. But the new constitution was suspended

indefi nitely, and the government was declared “revolutionary until the peace,” “revolution-

ary” meaning extraconstitutional or of an emergency character. In other ways the Com-

mittee showed intentions of legislating on behalf of the lower economic classes. The price

controls and other economic regulations answered the demands of the sans-culottes. The

last of the manorial regime was done away with; the peasants were relieved of having

to pay compensation for the obligations that had been abolished at the opening of the

Revolution. The Committee busied itself also with social services and measures of public

improvement. It issued pamphlets to teach farmers to improve their crops, selected prom-

ising youths to receive instruction in useful trades, opened a military school for boys of

all classes, even the humblest, and certainly intended to introduce universal elementary

education.

It was also at this time, in 1794, that the National C onvention decreed the abolition of

slavery in the French colonies, meaning chiefl y Saint-Domingue, the modern Haiti, the

richest of all the sugar islands in the Caribbean. Free blacks in the colonies

had already received civic rights earlier in the Revolution; and the enslaved

black plantation workers had in fact already liberated themselves in a mas-

sive rebellion that spread across Saint-Domingue in 1791. The revolution-

ary government in Paris sent new representatives to manage affairs in the

colony, but these commissioners needed the support of emancipated black fi ghters to

Slavery abolished in

French colonies

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395

suppress both the counterrevolutionary white colonists and the English forces that invaded

the island in the fall of 1793. The Jacobin commissioners therefore abolished slavery in

Saint-Domingue even before the National Convention acted to abolish slavery in the wider

French Empire. The revolution in Saint-Domingue and the expulsion of foreign armies

thus depended on increasingly autonomous black military commanders, one of whom was

the once-enslaved Toussaint Louverture. In the months after the revolutionary govern-

ment’s offi cial abolition of slavery, Louverture became a general in the French army that

drove the Spanish and British from Saint-Domingue.

Amid the ensuing political and military confl icts Louverture became France’s

governor-general in the colony, but his new government soon broke away from all

French control. Under pressure from the slave-owning and commercial interests (and the

European demand for sugar) the government of Napoleon in 1802 reestablished slav-

ery in the French colonies and sent about 40,000 troops to reassert French authority in

Saint-Domingue. The French captured Louverture and took him to France, where he died

in prison. Other military leaders launched a new campaign for independence, however, and

the French army was unable to defeat the armed rebellion of the mobilized black popula-

tion. Most of the French troops on the island died in the fi ghting or perished of yellow

fever, and the few survivors abandoned their operations late in 1803—becoming the fi rst

Napoleonic army to suffer a decisive military defeat after Bonaparte had seized political

power. Haitian leaders, in 1804, established an independent Republic of Haiti, which also

became the Atlantic world’s fi rst postcolonial nation to abolish slavery. An unexpected

consequence of the French defeat in Haiti was that Napoleon sold the remaining French

possessions on the North American mainland (“Louisiana”) to the United States in 1803.

Slavery was not effectively abolished in the French colonies until a later revolution

in 1848.

At the climax of the Revolution within France itself, in 1793–1794, the Committee

of Public Safety was determined to concentrate revolutionary initiative in itself. It had no

patience with unauthorized revolutionary violence. With its own plan for a democratic

program, it disapproved of the turbulent democracy of popular clubs and local assem-

blies. In the fall of 1793, at the time of its prohibition of revolutionary women’s organiza-

tions, the Committee arrested the leading enragés. Extreme revolutionary demands were expressed by Jacques Hébert, a journalist and offi cer of the Paris Commune. Robespierre

called such people “ultra revolutionaries.” They were a large and indefi nable group and

included many radical members of the Convention. They indiscriminately denounced

merchants and bourgeoisie. They were the party of extreme Terror; an Hébertist brought

about the mass drownings at Nantes. Believing all religion to be counterrevolutionary,

they launched the movement of Dechristianization and strongly supported the creation of a

new republican calendar. The Convention adopted this calendar as part of its campaign to

strengthen popular allegiance to the republic and to establish a new national organization

of daily life that would replace the Christian cycle of Sundays, saints’ days, and holidays

such as Christmas and Easter. The new calendar thus counted years from the founding of

the French Republic, divided each year into new months of 30 days each, and even abol-

ished the week, which it replaced with the 10-day décade. 1

1 Though not adopted until October 1793, the revolutionary calendar dated the Year I of the French Republic

from September 22, 1792. The names of the months, in order and corresponding to the seasons of the year, were

Vendémiaire, Brumaire, Frimaire (autumn); Nivôse, Pluviôse, Ventôse (winter); Germinal, Floréal, Prairial

(spring); Messidor, Thermidor, Fructidor (summer).

44. The Emergency Republic, 1792–1795: The Terror

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Chapter 9 The French Revolution396

Dechristianization also c ontributed to the development of the cult of

reason, which sprang up all over France at the end of 1793. In Paris the

Commune put on ceremonies in the cathedral of Notre Dame, in which Rea-

son was impersonated by an actress who was the wife of one of the city offi -

cials. But Dechristianization was severely frowned upon by Robespierre. He believed that

it would alienate the masses from the Republic and ruin such sympathy as was still felt for

the Revolution abroad. The Committee of Public Safety, therefore, ordered the toleration

of peaceable Catholics, and in June 1794 Robespierre introduced the cult of the Supreme

Being, a deistic natural religion, in which the Republic was declared to recognize the exis-

tence of God and the immortality of the soul. Robespierre hoped that both Catholics and

agnostic anticlericals could become reconciled on this ground. But Catholics were now

beyond reconciliation, and the freethinkers, appealing to the tradition of Voltaire, regarded

Robespierre as a reactionary mystery monger and would become instrumental in bringing

about his fall.

Meanwhile the Committee proceeded relentlessly against the Hébertists, whose main

champions it sent to the guillotine in March 1794. The paramilitary “revolutionary armies”

were suppressed. The extreme Terrorists were recalled from the provinces. The revolution-

ary Paris Commune was destroyed. Robespierre fi lled the municipal offi ces of Paris with

his own appointees. This Robespierrist commune disapproved of strikes and tried to hold

down wages, on the plea of military necessity; it failed to win over the ex-Hébertists and

working-class leaders, who became disillusioned with the Revolution and dismissed it as a

movement that no longer served their interests. Probably to prevent just such a conclusion,

and to avoid the appearance of deviation to the Right, Robespierre and the Committee,

after liquidating the left-wing Hébertists, also liquidated certain right-wing members of the

Mountain who were known as Dantonists. Danton and his followers were accused of

fi nancial dishonesty and of dealing with counterrevolutionaries; the charges contained

some truth but were not the main reason for the executions.

By the spring of 1794 the French Republic possessed an army of 800,000 men, the

largest ever raised up to that time by a European power. It was a national army represent-

ing a people in arms, commanded by offi cers who had been promoted rapidly on grounds

of merit and composed of troops who felt themselves to be citizens fi ghting for their own

cause. Its intense political-mindedness made it the more formidable and contrasted strongly

with the indifference of the opposing troops, some of whom were in fact serfs and none of

whom had any sense of membership in their own political systems. The Allied govern-

ments, each pursuing its own ends and still distracted by their ambitions in Poland, where

the third partition was impending, could not combine their forces against

France. In June 1794 the French won the battle of Fleurus in Belgium. The

Republican hosts again streamed into the Low Countries; in six months

their calvary rode into Amsterdam on the ice. A revolutionary Batavian

Republic soon replaced the old Dutch provinces; but the opposite was

occurring at this time in eastern Europe, where Russian and Prussian armies stamped out

the attempted revolution that Kosciusko led in Poland. All Polish lands and people were

fi nally merged into the eastern European empires in 1795.

Military success made the French less willing to put up with the dictatorial rule and

economic regimentation of the Terror. Robespierre and the Committee of Public Safety

had antagonized all signifi cant parties. The working-class radicals of Paris would no lon-

ger support him, and after the death of Danton the National Convention was

afraid of its own ruling committee. A group in the Convention obtained

the “outlawing” of Robespierre on 9 Thermidor (July 27, 1794); he was

Revolutionary

military victories

Fall of Robespierre

The Revolution and

religion

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397

guillotined with some of his associates on the following day. Many who turned against

Robespierre believed they were pushing the Revolution farther forward, as in destroying

the Girondins the year before. Others thought, or said, that they were stopping a dictator

and a tyrant. All agreed, to absolve themselves, in heaping all blame for the recent revolu-

tionary excesses upon Robespierre. The idea that Robespierre was an ogre originated more

with his former colleagues than with conservatives of the time.

The Thermidorian Reaction

The fall of Robespierre stunned the country, but its effects manifested themselves during

the following months as the “Thermidorian reaction.” The Terror subsided. The Conven-

tion reduced the powers of the Committee of Public Safety, and it closed the Jacobin club.

The French army won a great victory at the battle of Fleurus in June 1794, thus opening the way for republican troops to enter the Low Countries and easing the external threats that had pushed the Revolution toward internal repression and the Terror. This picture shows how the French used a balloon to observe enemy forces during the battle, but the results must have been disappointing, because balloons were not thereafter used by either side. (The New York Public Library/Art Resource, NY)

44. The Emergency Republic, 1792–1795: The Terror

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Chapter 9 The French Revolution398

Price controls and other regulations were removed. Infl ation resumed its course, prices

again rose, and the disoriented and leaderless working classes suffered more than ever.

Sporadic uprisings broke out, of which the greatest was the insurrection of Prairial in the

Year III (May 1795), when a mob all but dispersed the Convention by force. Troops were

called to Paris for the fi rst time since 1789. Insurrectionists in the working-class quarters

threw up barricades in the streets. The army prevailed without much bloodshed, but the

Convention arrested, imprisoned, or deported 10,000 of the insurgents. A few organizers

were guillotined. The affair of Prairial gave a foretaste of modern social revolution.

The triumphant element after 1794 consisted mostly of the bourgeois

or professional classes of the former Third Estate, which had guided the

Revolution since the Constituent Assembly and had not been really

unseated even during the Terror. It was not mainly a bourgeoisie of modern

capitalists, eager to make a fi nancial profi t by developing new factories or

Politics and society

after Thermidor

The guillotine was used during the most radical phase of the Revolution to execute persons judged to be enemies of the republic. First adopted as a more humane way of infl icting capital punishment, it became a permanent symbol of revolutionary violence, and it claimed victims from every part of the Revolution itself. This picture illustrates the execution of Robespierre and four others who were denounced as conspirators against liberty and sent to the guillotine in July 1794. (Bettmann/Corbis)

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399

Historical Interpretations and Debates

The Political and Social Signifi cance of the French Revolution

Historians have proposed numerous and often confl icting political, economic, social, and cultural explanations to describe the historical signifi cance of the French Revolution—though most agree that the Revolution contributed decisively to the emergence of modern European institutions and ideas. The infl uential interpretations of Albert Soboul and Lynn Hunt exem- plify different economic and political explanations for the historical meaning of the Revolution and suggest why the debate about the French Revolution never ends.

Albert Soboul, The Parisian Sans- Culottes and the French Revolution, 1793–4 (1959) We need to remember that the Revolution

was fundamentally a struggle between the

European aristocracy and the Third Estate

as a whole. In this struggle, it is hardly

surprising that the French bourgeoisie

should have played the leading role. The

Revolutionary Government, founded upon an

alliance between the Montagnard bourgeoisie

and the Parisian sans-culotterie, had been

given the task of defending the Revolution

against the aristocracy both within France

and beyond her borders. . . .

Without the Parisian sans-culotterie, the

bourgeoisie could not have triumphed in so

radical a fashion. . . .

The success of the popular movement

. . . led to the organization of the Terror

which struck such an irreparable blow to the

old social order. The upper bourgeoisie of

the ancien régime, founded on commercial capital and linked in some ways with the

old social and political system of the feudal

aristocracy, failed to survive the upheaval

. . . The Terror had cleared the way for

the introduction of new relationships of

production. In the capitalist society born

of the Revolution, industry was destined

to dominate commerce: the function of

commercial capital, against which the

sans-culottes had fought so bitterly in the

Year II, would be subordinated henceforth

to the sole productive form of capital—

industrial capital.

Lynn Hunt, Politics, Culture, and Class in the French Revolution (1984) The Revolution showed how much

everything depended on politics. . . . The

structure of the polity changed under the

impact of increasing political participation

and popular mobilization; political language,

political ritual, and political organization all

took on new forms and meanings. . . .

Revolutionary political culture

cannot be deduced from social structures,

social confl icts, or the social identity of

revolutionaries. Political practices were

not simply the expression of “underlying”

economic and social interests. Through

their language, images, and daily political

activities, revolutionaries worked to

reconstitute society and social relations. . . .

The chief accomplishment of the

French Revolution was the institution of

a dramatically new political culture. The

revolution did not startle its contemporaries

because it laid the foundations for capitalist

development or political modernization. . . .

Revolution in France contributed little to

economic growth or to political stabilization.

What it did establish, however, was

the mobilizing potential of democratic

republicanism and the compelling intensity

of revolutionary change. The language

of national regeneration, the gestures of

equality and fraternity, and the rituals of

republicanism were not soon forgotten.

Democracy, terror, Jacobinism, and the

police state all became recurrent features

of political life.

Sources: Albert Soboul, The Parisian Sans-Culottes and the French Revolution, 1793–4 , translated by Gwynne Lewis (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1964), pp. 249, 260–261: Lynn Hunt, Politics, Culture, and Class in the French Revolution (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1984), pp. 2, 12, 15.

44. The Emergency Republic, 1792–1795: The Terror

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Chapter 9 The French Revolution400

machinery. The political victors after Thermidor were bourgeois in an older social sense,

those who had not been noble or aristocratic before 1789 yet had held secure positions

under the Old Regime, many of them lawyers or offi ceholders and often drawing income

from the ownership of land. There were also new elements produced by the Revolution

itself, parvenus and nouveaux riches, who had made money by wartime government con- tracts or had profi ted by infl ation or by buying up former church lands at bargain prices.

Such people, often joined by former aristocrats, and in reaction against Robespierrist virtue,

set an extravagant and ostentatious style of living that gave a bad name to the new order.

They also unleashed a “white terror” in which many ex-Jacobins were simply murdered.

But the Thermidorians, disreputable though a few of them were, had not lost faith

in the Revolution. Democracy they associated with red terror and mob rule, but they still

believed in individual legal rights and in a written constitution. Conditions were rather

adverse, for the country was still unsettled, and although the Convention made a sepa-

rate peace with Spain and Prussia, France still remained at war with Great Britain and

the Habsburg Empire. But the members of the Convention were still determined to make

another attempt at constitutional government. They set aside the democratic constitution

written in 1793 (and never used) and produced the Constitution of the Year III, which went

into effect at the end of 1795.

45. THE CONSTITUTIONAL REPUBLIC: THE DIRECTORY, 1795–1799

The Weakness of the Directory

The fi rst formally constituted French Republic, known as the Directory, lasted only four

years. It was politically weak and vulnerable because it rested on an extremely narrow

social base and it presupposed certain military conquests. The new constitution applied not

only to France but also to Belgium, which was now regarded as incorpo-

rated constitutionally into France, though the Habsburgs had not yet ceded

these “Austrian Netherlands,” nor had the British agreed to accept French

occupation. The constitution of 1795 thus committed the republic to a pro-

gram of successful expansion. At the same time it restricted the politically

active class. It gave almost all adult males the vote, but they voted only for “electors.” Per-

sons chosen as electors were usually men of some means, able to give their time and will-

ing to take part in public life; this in effect meant men of the upper middle class, because

the old nobility was disaffected. The electors chose all important department offi cials and

also the members of the national Legislative Assembly, which this time was divided into

two chambers. The lower chamber was called the Council of Five Hundred; the upper,

composed of 250 members, the Council of Ancients—“ancients” being those over 40.

The chambers chose the executive, which was called the Directory (from which the whole

regime took its name) and was made up of fi ve Directors.

The government was thus constitutionally in the hands of substantial property owners,

rural and urban, but its real base was narrower still. In the reaction after Thermidor many

people began to consider restoring the monarchy. The Convention, to protect its own mem-

bers, had ruled that two-thirds of the men initially elected to the Council of Five Hundred

and Council of Ancients must be ex-members of the Convention. This interference with

the freedom of the elections provoked serious disturbances in Paris, instigated mainly by

royalists. The Convention, having now accustomed itself to using the army, instructed a

young general named Bonaparte, who happened to be in Paris, to put down the royalist

The constitution of

1795

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40145. The Constitutional Republic: The Directory, 1795–1799

mob. He did so with a “whiff of grapeshot.” The new constitutional republic thus made

itself dependent on military protection at the outset.

The regime had enemies to both Right and Left. On the Right, undisguised royalists

agitated in Paris and even in the two councils; and they were in continuous touch with the

late king’s brother, the Count of Provence, whom they regarded as Louis XVIII (Louis

XVI’s son, who died in prison, was counted as Louis XVII). Louis XVIII had installed

himself at Verona in Italy, where he headed a propaganda agency fi nanced largely by

British money. The worst obstacle to the resurgence of royalism in France was Louis

XVIII himself. In 1795, on assuming the title, he had issued a Declaration of Verona, in

which he announced his intention to restore the Old Regime and punish all involved in

the Revolution back to 1789. It has been said, correctly enough in this connection, that

the Bourbons “learned nothing and forgot nothing.” Had Louis XVIII offered in 1795

what he offered in 1814, it is quite conceivable that his partisans in France might have

brought about his restoration and terminated the war. As it was, the majority of the French

adhered not exactly to the republic as set up in 1795, but to any system that would shut

out the Bourbons and privileged nobility, prevent a reimposition of the manorial system,

and secure the new landowners, peasant and bourgeois, in the possession of the church

properties that they had purchased.

The Left was made up of persons from various levels of society who still favored the

more democratic ideas expressed earlier in the Revolution. Some of them thought that

the fall of Robespierre had been a great misfortune. A tiny group of extremists formed

the Conspiracy of Equals, organized in 1796 by “Gracchus” Babeuf. His intention was

to overthrow the Directory and replace it with a dictatorial government in which private

property would be abolished and equality would be decreed. For these ideas, and for his

activist program, he has been regarded as a political precursor to modern communism. The

Directory repressed the Conspiracy of Equals without diffi culty and guillotined Babeuf

and one other. Meanwhile it did nothing to relieve the distress of the lower classes, who

showed little inclination to follow Babeuf even though they suffered from the ravages of

scarcity and infl ation.

The Political Crisis of 1797

In March 1797 occurred the fi rst really free election ever held in France under republican

auspices. The successful candidates were for the most part constitutional monarchists or at

least vaguely royalist. A change of the balance within the Five Hundred and the Ancients,

in favor of royalism, seemed to be impending. This was precisely what most of the repub-

licans of 1793, including the regicides, could not endure, even though they had to violate

the constitution to prevent it. Nor was it endurable, for other reasons, to General Napoleon

Bonaparte.

Bonaparte was born in 1769 into the minor nobility of Corsica, shortly

after the annexation of Corsica to France. He had studied in French military

schools and been commissioned in the Bourbon army but would never have

reached high rank under the conditions of the Old Regime. In 1793 he was a fervent young

Jacobin offi cer who had served the revolutionary cause by driving the British from Toulon

and who was consequently made a brigadier general by the government of the Terror. In

1795, as noted, he rendered valuable service to the Convention by breaking up a demon-

stration of royalists. In 1796 he received command of an army, with which, in two brilliant

campaigns, he crossed the Alps and drove the Austrians from north Italy. Like other gener-

als he soon became independent from the government in Paris, which was fi nancially too

Napoleon Bonaparte

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Chapter 9 The French Revolution402

harassed to pay his troops or to supply him. He lived by local requisitions in Italy, became

self-supporting, and in fact made the civilian government in Paris dependent on him.

He developed a foreign policy of his own. Many Italians had become dissatisfi ed with

their old governments, so that the arrival of the French republican armies threw north

Italy into turmoil. The Venetian cities revolted against Venice, Bologna against the pope,

Milan against Austria, and in Piedmont the Savoy monarchy was threatened by uprisings

of its own subjects. Combining with some of these revolutionaries, while rejecting others,

Bonaparte established a “Cisalpine” Republic in the Po Valley, modeled on the French

system, with Milan as its capital. Where the Directory, on the whole, had originally meant

to return Milan to the Austrians in compensation for Austrian recognition of the French

conquest of Belgium, Bonaparte insisted that France hold its position in both Belgium and

Italy. He therefore needed expansionist republicans in the government in Paris and was

perturbed by the royalist victories in the elections of 1797.

The Austrians negotiated with Bonaparte because they had been beaten by him in

battle. The British also, in conferences with the French at Lille, discussed peace in 1796

and 1797. The war had gone badly for England; a party of Whigs led by Charles James Fox

had always openly disapproved it, and the pro-French and republican radicals were so

active that the government suspended habeas corpus in 1794, and thereafter imprisoned

political agitators at its discretion. Crops were bad and bread was scarce and costly.

England too suffered from infl ation, for Pitt at fi rst fi nanced the war by extensive loans,

and a good deal of gold was shipped to the Continent to fi nance the Allied armies. In

February 1797 the Bank of England suspended gold payments to private citizens. Famine

threatened, the populace was restless, and there were even mutinies in the fl eet. Ireland was

in rebellion; the French came close to landing a republican army there, and it could be sup-

posed that the next attempt might be more successful. The Austrians, Britain’s only remain-

ing ally, had been routed by Bonaparte, and at the moment the British could subsidize them

no further. The British had every reason to make peace.

Prospects for peace therefore seemed good in the summer of 1797, but,

as always, it would be peace upon certain conditions. It was the royalists in

France that were the peace party, because a restored king could easily return

the conquests of the republic and would in any case abandon the new republics in Holland

and the Po Valley. The republicans in the French government could make peace with diffi -

culty, if at all. They were constitutionally bound to retain Belgium. They were losing control

of their own generals. Nor could the supreme question be evaded: Was peace dear enough to

purchase by a return of the Old Regime, such as Louis XVIII had himself

promised?

The c oup d’état of Fructidor (September 4, 1797) was a forceful

attempt to resolve all these internal and external issues. It was the turning

point for France’s constitutional republic, and it became a decisive event for

all Europe. The Directory asked for help from Bonaparte, who sent one of his generals,

Augereau, to Paris. While Augereau stood by with a force of soldiers, the councils annulled

most of the elections of the preceding spring. On the whole, it was the old republicans of the

Convention who secured themselves in power. Their justifi cation was that they were defend-

ing the revolution, keeping out Louis XVIII and the Old Regime. But to do so they had vio-

lated their own constitution and quashed the fi rst free election ever held in a constitutional

French republic. And they had become more than ever dependent on the army.

After the coup d’état the “Fructidorian” government broke off negotiations with England.

With Austria it signed the treaty of Campo Formio on October 17, 1797, incorporating

Prospects for peace

The coup d’état of

Fructidor

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403

Bonaparte’s ideas. By the new treaty Austria recognized the French annexation of Belgium

(the former Austrian Netherlands), the French right to incorporate the Left Bank of the

Rhine, and the French-dominated Cisalpine Republic in Italy. In return, Bonaparte allowed

the Austrians to annex Venice and most of mainland Venetia.

In the following months, under French auspices, revolutionary repub-

licanism spread rapidly through much of Italy, creating new republics with

classical names. The old patrician republic of Genoa turned into a Ligurian

Republic on the French model. At Rome the pope was deposed from his

temporal power and a Roman Republic was established. In southern Italy a Neapolitan

Republic, also called Parthenopean, was set up. In Switzerland at the same time, Swiss

reformers cooperated with the French to create a new Helvetic Republic.

The Left Bank of the Rhine, in the atomistic Holy Roman Empire, was occupied by

a great many German princes who now had to vacate their lands. The treaty of Campo

Formio provided that they be compensated by church territories in Germany east of the

Rhine and that France have a hand in the redistribution. The German princes turned greedy

eyes on the German bishops and abbots, and the almost 1,000-year-old empire, hardly

more than a solemn political abstraction since the Peace of Westphalia, sank to the level

of a land rush or real estate speculation, while France became involved in the territorial

reconstruction of Germany.

Revolutionary

republicanism spreads

CHRONOLOGY OF NOTABLE EVENTS, 1789–1804

May 1789 Estates General convenes at Versailles

June 1789 The Third Estate declares itself to be the National Assembly

July 1789 Crowd assaults and captures the Bastille fortress in Paris

August 1789 National Assembly issues “Declaration of the Rights of Man and Citizen”

and abolishes “feudal privileges”

September 1791 New French Constitution establishes a constitutional monarchy

April 1791 France declares war on Austria and Prussia

September 1792 New National Convention meets in Paris; France becomes a republic

January 1793 King Louis XVI is executed in Paris

1793–1794 The Radical Revolution and the Reign of Terror

July 1794 Robespierre and his Jacobin allies are executed

1795–1799 Republic called “the Directory” governs France and sends armies to

spread revolutionary republicanism in Europe

November 1799 Napoleon Bonaparte seizes power in a coup d’état

1799–1804 Napoleon is “First Consul” in French government called the Consulate;

laws are codifi ed in Napoleonic Code

1801 Napoleon’s Concordat with the Roman Catholic Church

1803–1804 Independent Republic of Haiti is established after French forces are

defeated in Saint-Domingue

1804 France becomes an empire under Emperor Napoleon I

45. The Constitutional Republic: The Directory, 1795–1799

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Chapter 9 The French Revolution404

THE FRENCH REPUBLIC AND ITS SATELLITES, 1798–1799 By 1799 the French Republic had annexed Belgium (the Austrian Netherlands) and the small German bishoprics and principalities west of the Rhine, and had created, with the aid of native sympathizers, a string of lesser revolutionary republics in the Dutch Netherlands, Switzerland, and most of Italy. With the treaty of Campo Formio between France and Austria in 1797, the Holy Roman Empire began to disintegrate, for the German princes of the Left Bank of the Rhine, who were dispossessed when their territories went to France, began to be compensated with territory of the church-states of the Holy Roman Empire. These developments were car- ried further by Napoleon (see map, p. 423).

N o r t h S e a

M e d i t e r r a n e a n S e a

A driatic Sea

Seine R.

R h

ô n

e R

.

P o R.

R h

in e

R .

Danube R.

B a l t i c S e a

Loire R

.

F R A N C E

OTHER GERMAN STATES

A U S T R I A

CORSICA

SARDINIA

SPAIN

P R U S S I ABATAVIAN REPUBLIC

HELVETIC REPUBLIC

PI ED

M O

N T

SAVOY

LIGURIAN REPUBLIC

TUSCANY

ROMAN REPUBLIC

PARTHENOPEAN REPUBLIC

(1799)

BELGIUM (ANNEXED 1795) R

H IN

ELA N

D

B A

D EN

CISALPINE REPUBLIC

RUGEN

S I L E S I A

ENGLAND IO

N IA

N I.

OTTOMAN EMPIRE

Paris

Rome

Marseille

Venice

Versailles

Varennes

Lille

Lunéville

Avignon

Fleurus

Basel

Milan

Marengo

Genoa

Nice

Verona

Campo Formio

Pillnitz

Hamburg

Berlin

Vienna Budapest

French Republic 1798

Dependent Republics 1798

Church States to be Absorbed by Other German States

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40546. The Authoritarian Republic: The Consulate, 1799–1804

The Coup d’État of 1799: Bonaparte

After Fructidor the idea of maintaining the republic as a free or constitutional government

was given up. There were more uprisings, more quashed elections, more purgings both to

Left and Right. The Directory turned into an ineffective dictatorship. It repudiated most of

the assignats and the debt but failed to restore fi nancial confi dence or stability. Guerrilla

activity fl ared up again in the Vendée and other parts of western France. The religious

schism became more acute; the Directory had to take severe measures toward the refrac-

tory clergy.

Meanwhile Bonaparte waited for the situation to ripen. Returning from Italy a con-

quering hero, he was assigned to command the army in training to invade England. He

concluded that invasion was premature and decided to strike indirectly at England, by

threatening India in a spectacular invasion of Egypt. In 1798, outwitting the British fl eet,

he landed a French army at the mouth of the Nile. Egypt was part of the Ottoman Empire,

and the French occupation of Egyptian territories alarmed the Russians, who had their own

designs on the Middle East. The Austrians objected to the French rearrangement of

Germany. A year and a half after the treaty of Campo Formio, Austria, Russia, and Great

Britain formed an alliance known as the Second Coalition. The French Republic was again

involved in a general war. And the war went unfavorably, for in August 1798 the British

fl eet cut off the French army in Egypt by winning the battle of the Nile (or Aboukir), in

October the people of Cairo rose in revolt against the French occupation of Egypt, and by

1799 Russian forces, under Marshal Suvorov, were operating as far west as Switzerland

and north Italy, where the Cisalpine Republic went down in ruin.

Recognizing the multiple threats to France’s revolutionary Republic, General

Bonaparte decided that his opportunity had now come. He left his army in

Egypt and, slipping through the British fl eet, reappeared unexpectedly in

France. He found that certain civilian leaders in the Directory were plan-

ning a change. They included Sieyès, of whom little had been heard since

he wrote What Is the Third Estate? in 1789, but who had sat in the Conven- tion and voted for the death of Louis XVI. Sieyès’ formula was now “confi dence from

below, authority from above”—what he now wanted of the people was acquiescence, and

of the government, power to act. This group was looking about for a general, and their

choice fell on the sensational young Bonaparte, who was still only 30. Dictatorship by an

army offi cer was repugnant to most republicans of the Five Hundred and the Ancients.

Bonaparte, Sieyès, and their followers therefore resorted to force, executing the coup

d’état of Brumaire (November 9, 1799), in which armed soldiers drove the legislators

from the chambers. They proclaimed a new form of the republic, which Bonaparte entitled

the Consulate. It was headed by three consuls, with Bonaparte as the First Consul.

46. THE AUTHORITARIAN REPUBLIC: THE CONSULATE, 1799–1804

The next chapter takes up the affairs of Europe as a whole in the time of Napoleon

Bonaparte, the purpose at present being only to tell how he closed, in a way, the Revolu-

tion in France.

It happened that the French Republic, in falling into the hands of a

general, fell also to a man whom many of his contemporaries and some

later historians viewed as a “genius” or “great man” in European history.

Bonaparte was a short man who would never have looked impressive in civilian clothing.

The Directory turns

to Bonaparte

Napoleon’s “genius”

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Chapter 9 The French Revolution406

His manners were rather coarse; he lost his temper, cheated at cards, and pinched people by

the ear in a kind of formidable play—he was no “gentleman.” A child of the Enlightenment

and the Revolution, he was entirely emancipated not only from customary ideas but from

moral scruples as well. He regarded the world as a fl ux to be formed by his own mind. He

had an exalted belief in his own destinies, which became more mystical and exaggerated as

the years went on. He claimed to follow his “star.” His ideas of the good and the beautiful

lacked nuance, but he was a man of extraordinary intellectual capacity, which impressed

all with whom he came in contact. “Never speak unless you know you are the ablest man

in the room,” he once advised his stepson, on making him viceroy of Italy, a maxim that, if

he followed it himself, still allowed him to do most of the talking. His interests ran to solid

subjects, history, law, military science, public administration. His mind was tenacious and

perfectly orderly; he once declared that it was like a chest of drawers, which he could open

or close at will, forgetting any subject when its drawer was closed and fi nding it ready with

all necessary detail when its drawer was opened. He had all the masterful qualities associ-

ated with leadership; he could dazzle and captivate those who had any inclination to follow

him at all. Some of the most humane men of the day, including Goethe and Beethoven

in Germany, and Lazare Carnot among the former revolutionary leaders, at fi rst looked

on him with high approval. He inspired confi dence by his crisp speech, rapid decisions,

and quick grasp of complex problems when they were newly presented to him. He was,

or seemed, just what many people in France were looking for after ten years of upheaval.

Under the Consulate France reverted to a form of enlightened despotism, and

Bonaparte may be thought of as the last and most eminent of the enlightened despots.

Despotic the new regime undoubtedly was from the start. Self-government through elected

bodies was ruthlessly pushed aside. Bonaparte delighted in affi rming the sovereignty of the

people; but to his mind the people were a sovereign, like Voltaire’s God, who somehow

created the world but never thereafter interfered in it. He clearly saw that a government’s

authority was greater when it was held to represent the entire nation. In the weeks after

Brumaire he assured himself of a popular mandate by devising a written constitution and

submitting it to a general referendum or “plebiscite.” The voters could take it—or nothing.

They took it by a majority offi cially reported as 3,011,007 to 1,562.

The new constitution set up a make-believe of parliamentary institu-

tions. It provided for universal male suffrage, but the citizens merely chose

“notables” who were then appointed by the government itself to public posi-

tion. The notables had no powers of their own. They were merely available

for appointment to offi ce. They might sit in a Legislative Body, where they

could neither initiate nor discuss legislation but only mutely reject or enact it. There was

also a Tribunate that discussed public policies but had no enacting powers. There was a

Conservative Senate, which had rights of appointment of notables to offi ce (“patronage” in

American terms) and in which numerous storm-tossed regicides found a haven. The main

agency in the new government was the Council of State, imitated from the Old Regime; it

prepared the signifi cant legislation, often under the presidency of the First Consul himself,

who always gave the impression that he understood everything. The First Consul made all

the decisions and ran the state. The regime did not openly represent anybody, and that was

its strength, for it provoked the less opposition. In any case, the political machinery just

described fell rapidly into disuse.

Bonaparte entrenched himself also by promising and obtaining peace. The military

problem at the close of 1799 was much simplifi ed by the attitude of the Russians, who in

effect withdrew from the war with France. In the Italian theater Bonaparte had to deal only

with the Austrians, whom he again defeated, by again crossing the Alps, at the battle of

Bonaparte as First

Consul

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407

Marengo in June 1800. In February 1801 the Austrians signed the treaty of Lunéville, in

which the terms of Campo Formio were confi rmed. A year later, in March 1802, peace was

made even with Britain.

Peace was made also at home. Bonaparte kept internal order, partly by a secret politi-

cal police but especially through a powerful and centralized administrative machine in

which a “prefect,” under direct orders of the minister of the interior, ruled fi rmly over each

of the regional departments that the Constituent Assembly had created early in the Revo-

lution. The new government put down the guerrillas in the west. Its laws and taxes were

imposed on Brittany and the Vendée, and a new peace settled down on the factions left by

the Revolution. Bonaparte offered a general amnesty and invited back to France, with a

few exceptions, exiles of all stripes, from the fi rst aristocratic émigrés to the refugees and

deportees of the republican coups d’état. Requiring only that they work for him and stop

quarreling with each other, he picked reasonable men from all camps. His Second Consul

was Cambacérès, a regicide of the Terror; his Third Consul was Lebrun, who had been

Maupeou’s colleague in the days of Louis XV. Fouché emerged as minister of police; he

had been an Hébertist and extreme terrorist in 1793 and had done as much as anyone to

bring about the fall of Robespierre. Before 1789 he had been an obscure bourgeois pro-

fessor of physics. Talleyrand reappeared as minister of foreign affairs; he had spent the

Terror in safe seclusion in the United States, and his principles, if he had any, were those

of constitutional monarchy. Before 1789 he had been a bishop, and he descended from an

old and famous aristocratic lineage—no one who had not known the Old Regime, he once

said, could realize how pleasant it had been. Men of this kind were now willing, for a few

years beginning in 1800, to forget the past and work in common toward the future.

Disturbers of the new order the First Consul ruthlessly put down. Indeed, he concocted

alarms to make himself more welcome as a pillar of order. On Christmas Eve, 1800, on the

46. The Authoritarian Republic: The Consulate, 1799–1804

After repeatedly winning bat- tles against all the powers of Europe, Napoleon developed even more grandiose ideas of himself and the imperial power of France. This painting was completed in 1806 by Jacques- Louis David, the aging revolu- tionary whose work had once portrayed the Tennis Court Oath and the faces of com- mon people in Paris. Here he presents an idealized image of Napoleon as a young republi- can hero who crossed the Alps in 1800 to defeat the Austrians at the battle of Marengo. (Erich Lessing/Art Resource, NY)

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Chapter 9 The French Revolution408

way to the opera, he was nearly killed by a bomb, or “infernal machine,” as people then

called such bombs. It had been set by royalists, but Bonaparte represented it as the work

of Jacobin conspiracy, being most afraid at the moment of some of the old republicans;

and over 100 former Jacobins were deported. Contrariwise, in 1804, he greatly exagger-

ated certain royalist plots against him, invaded the independent state of Baden, and there

arrested the Duke of Enghien, who was related to the Bourbons. Though he knew Enghien

to be innocent, he had him shot. His purpose now was to please the old Jacobins by stain-

ing his own hands with Bourbon blood; Fouché and the regicides concluded that they were

secure so long as Bonaparte was in power.

The Settlement with the Church; Other Reforms

For all but the most convinced royalists and republicans, reconciliation was made easier by

the establishment of peace with the church. Bonaparte himself was a pure eighteenth-century

rationalist. He regarded religion merely as a social convenience or as a useful component of

political order. But a Catholic revival was in full swing, and he saw its importance. The

refractory clergy were the spiritual force animating all forms of counterrevolution. “Fifty

émigré bishops, paid by England,” he once said, “lead the French clergy today. Their infl u-

ence must be destroyed. For this we need the authority of the pope.” Ignoring the horrifi ed

outcries of the old Jacobins, in 1801 he signed a concordat with the Vatican.

Both parties gained from the settlement. The autonomy of the prerevo-

lutionary Gallican Church came to an end. The pope received the right to

depose French bishops, because before the schism could be healed both

constitutional and refractory bishops had to be obliged to resign. The con-

stitutional or pro-revolutionary clergy came under the discipline of the Holy See. Publicity

of Catholic worship, in such forms as processions in the streets, was again allowed. Church

seminaries were again permitted. But Bonaparte and the heirs of the Revolution gained

even more. The pope, by signing the concordat, virtually recognized the Republic. The

Vatican agreed to raise no question over the former tithes and the former church lands. The

new owners of former church properties thus obtained clear titles. Nor was there any fur-

ther question of Avignon, an enclave within France, formerly papal, annexed to France in

1791. Nor were the papal negotiators able to undermine religious toleration; all that

Bonaparte would concede was a clause that was purely factual, and hence harmless, stating

that Catholicism was the religion of the majority of the French people. The clergy, in com-

pensation for loss of their tithes and property, were assured of receiving salaries from the

state. But Bonaparte, to dispel the notion of an established church, put Protestant ministers

of all denominations on the state payroll also. He thus checkmated the Vatican on impor-

tant points. At the same time, simply by signing an agreement with Rome, he disarmed the

counterrevolution. It could no longer be said that the Republic was godless. Good relations

did not, indeed, last very long, for Bonaparte and the papacy were soon at odds. But the

terms of the concordat proved lasting.

With peace and order established, the constructive work of the Consulate turned to the

fi elds of law and administration. The First Consul and his advisers combined what they

conceived to be the best of the Revolution and of the Old Regime. The modern state took on

clearer form. It was the reverse of everything feudal. All public authority was concentrated

in offi cially employed agents of government, no person was under any legal

authority except that of the state, and the authority of government fell on

all persons alike. There were no more estates, legal classes, privileges, l ocal

Concordat with the

Vatican

Consulate reforms

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409

liberties, hereditary offi ces, guilds, or manors. Judges, offi cials, and army offi cers received

specifi ed salaries. Neither military commissions nor civil offi ces could be bought and sold.

Citizens were to rise in government service according to their abilities rather

than their wealth or privileged birth.

This was the doctrine of “careers open to talent”; it was what the ambi-

tious professional classes of the Third Estate had wanted before the Revo-

lution, and a few persons of quite humble birth profi ted also. For sons of

the old aristocracy, it meant that family pedigree was not enough; they must also show

individual capacity to obtain employment. Qualifi cation came to depend increasingly on

education, and the secondary and higher schools were reorganized in these years, with a

view to preparing young men for government service and the learned professions. Scholar-

ships were provided, but it was mainly the upper middle class that benefi ted. Education,

in fact, in France and in Europe generally, came to be an important determinant of social

standing, with one system for those who could spend a dozen or more years at school,

and another for those who were to enter the work force at the age of 12 or 14. Meanwhile,

French intellectual life was strictly regulated and censored. When a few professors at the

National Institute began to question certain government policies, for example, Bonaparte

suppressed both their writings and the section of the Institute in which they worked; and

when the liberal critic Germaine de Staël published books that displeased the First Consul,

she was sent off to exile in Switzerland. Creative, critical intellectual debate thus became

impossible in France during these years, though Bonaparte satisfi ed many of the popular

demands for education and professional advancement.

Another deep demand of the French people, deeper than the demand for the vote, was

for more reason, order, and economy in public fi nance and taxation. The Consulate gave

these also. There were no tax exemptions because of birth, status, or special arrangement.

Everyone was supposed to pay, so that no disgrace attached to payment, and there was less

evasion. In principle these changes had been introduced in 1789; after 1799 they began to

work. For the fi rst time in ten years the government really collected the taxes that it levied

and so could rationally plan its fi nancial affairs. Accounting methods were improved, so

there was a new order in both the receipt and the expenditure of government revenues.

There was no longer a haphazard assortment of different “funds” on which various offi cials

drew independently and confi dentially as they needed money, but a concentration of fi nan-

cial management in the treasury and even in a kind of budget. The revolutionary uncertain-

ties over the value of money also dissipated. Because the Directory had shouldered the

odium of repudiating the paper money and government debt, the Consulate was able to

establish a sound currency and public credit. To assist in government fi nancing, one of the

banks of the Old Regime was revived and established as the Bank of France.

Like all enlightened despots, Bonaparte codifi ed the laws, and of all law

codes since the Romans the Napoleonic codes became the most famous. To

the 300 legal systems of the Old Regime and the mass of royal ordinances

were now added the thousands of laws enacted but seldom implemented by

the revolutionary assemblies. Five codes emerged—the Civil Code (often

called simply the Code Napoleon), the codes of civil and of criminal procedure, and the

commercial and penal codes. The codes made France legally and judicially uniform. They

assured legal equality; all French citizens had the same civil rights. They formulated the

new law of property and set forth the law of contracts, debts, leases, stock companies, and

similar matters in such a way as to create the legal framework for an economy of private

enterprise. They repeated the ban of all previous regimes on organized labor unions and

“Careers open to

talent”

The Napoleonic

Codes

46. The Authoritarian Republic: The Consulate, 1799–1804

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Chapter 9 The French Revolution410

were severe with individual workers, their word not being acceptable in court against that

of the employer—a signifi cant departure from equality before the law. The criminal code

was somewhat freer in giving the government the means to detect crime than in granting

the individual the means of defense against legal charges. As for the family, the codes rec-

ognized civil marriage and divorce but left the wife with very restricted powers over prop-

erty and the father with extensive authority over minor children; the legal system codifi ed

a paternalistic view of all family relations. The codes refl ected much of French life under

the Old Regime. They also set the character of France as it has been ever since, socially

bourgeois, legally egalitarian, and administratively bureaucratic.

In France, with the Consulate, the Revolution was over. If its highest hopes had not

been accomplished, many of the worst inequities and ineffi ciencies of the Old Regime had

at least been cured. The benefi ciaries of the Revolution felt secure. Even former aristocrats

were beginning to accept the new system. The working-class movement, repeatedly frus-

trated under all the revolutionary regimes, now vanished from the political scene to reap-

pear as a new socialism 30 years later. What the Third Estate had most wanted in 1789 was

now both codifi ed and enforced, with the exception of parliamentary government, which

after ten years of turmoil many people were temporarily willing to forgo. Moreover, in

1802, the French Republic was at peace in Europe with the papacy, Great Britain, and all

Continental powers, though a French army was still at war in Saint-Domingue. France

reached to the Rhine and had dependent republics in Holland and Italy. So popular was

the First Consul that in 1802, by another plebiscite, he had himself elected consul for life.

A new constitution, in 1804, again ratifi ed by plebiscite, declared that “the

government of the republic is entrusted to an emperor.” The Consulate

became the empire, and Bonaparte emerged as Napoleon I, Emperor of

the French.

But France, no longer revolutionary at home, was a revolutionary force

outside its borders. Napoleon became a terror to the patricians of Europe. They called him

the “Jacobin.” And the France that he ruled, and used as his arsenal, was an incomparably

formidable state. Even before the Revolution it had been the most populous in Europe,

perhaps the most wealthy, in the front rank of scientifi c enterprise and intellectual leader-

ship. Now all the old barriers of privilege, tax exemption, localism, and caste exclusiveness

had disappeared. The new France could tap the wealth of its citizens and put able men

into positions without inquiring into their origins. Every private, boasted Napoleon, carried

a marshal’s baton in his knapsack. The French looked with disdain on their caste-ridden

adversaries. The principle of civic equality proved not only to have the appeal of justice, but

also to be politically useful, and the resources of France were hurled against Europe with a

force that for many years no other nation or balance of powers could successfully oppose.

From Consulate to

empire

For suggested further readings and useful Web sites, interactive exercises, glossary, chronologies,

and more, go to the Online Learning Center at www.mhhe.com/palmerhistory11e.

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411

C h a p t e r 10 NAPOLEONIC EUROPE

The repercussions   of the French Revolution had spread throughout Europe since the fall of the

Bastille, and even more defi nitely after the outbreak

of war in 1792 and the ensuing victories of the

French republican armies. They became even more

evident after the republican General Bonaparte

turned into Napoleon I, Emperor of the French,

King of Italy, and Protector of the Confederation

of the Rhine. Napoleon surpassed all previous

European rulers in imposing a broad political unity

on the European continent. Although his imperial

power collapsed in less than 15 years, his military

campaigns and political ascendancy transformed

both international relations in Europe and the inter-

nal development of the various European peoples.

The French impact on other nations, though based

on military success, represented more than mere forcible subjugation. Many of the legal

and social innovations that came to France through revolution were brought to other coun-

tries in the early nineteenth century by administrative decree. There were for several years

Germans, Italians, Dutch, and Poles who worked with the French emperor to introduce the

changes that he demanded, and that they themselves often desired. In Prussia it was

the resistance to Napoleon that gave the incentive to internal reorganization and fostered

the emergence of a new German nationalism. Whether by collaboration or resistance,

Europe was transformed.

It is convenient to think of the fi ghting from 1792 to 1814 as a “world war,” as indeed

it was, affecting not only all of Europe but also places as far away as Latin America, where

the wars of independence began, or the interior of North America, where the United States

purchased Louisiana in 1803 and attempted a conquest of Canada in the War of 1812. But it

is important to realize that this world war was actually a series of wars, most of them quite

short and distinct. Only Great Britain remained continually at war with France, except for

47. The Formation of the

French Imperial System

48. The Grand Empire:

Spread of the Revolution

49. The Continental System:

Britain and Europe

50. The National Movements

and New Nationalist

Cultures

51. The Overthrow

of Napoleon:

The Congress of Vienna

Chapter emblem: Detail from a nineteenth-century illustration of Napoleon and Tsar Alexander I meeting on the

Niemen River in 1807. (Rare Book Collection, University of North Carolina)

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Chapter 10 Napoleonic Europe412

about a year of peace in 1802–1803. Never were the four great European powers, Britain,

Austria, Russia, and Prussia, simultaneously waging war against France until 1813.

The history of the Napoleonic period would be much simpler if the European govern-

ments had fought merely to protect themselves against the aggressive French. Each, how-

ever, in its way, was as dynamic and expansive as Napoleon himself. For some generations

Great Britain had been building a global commercial empire, Russia had been pushing

upon Poland and Turkey, and Prussia had been consolidating its territories and striving

for leadership in north Germany. Austria was less aggressive, but the Austrians were not

without their own dreams of ascendancy in Germany, the Balkans, and the Adriatic. None

of these ambitions ceased during the Napoleonic years. Governments, in pursuit of their

own expansive aims, were quite as willing to ally with Napoleon as to fi ght him. Only

gradually, and under repeated provocation, did they conclude that their main interest was

to dispose of the French emperor entirely.

47. THE FORMATION OF THE FRENCH IMPERIAL SYSTEM

The Collapse of the First and Second Coalitions, 1792–1802

The confl icting purposes of the major European powers had been apparent from almost the

beginning of the French Revolution. Leopold of Austria, in issuing the Declaration of Pillnitz

in 1791, had believed a general European coalition against France to be impossible. When

war began in 1792, the Austrians and Prussians kept their main forces in eastern Europe,

more afraid of each other and of Russia, in the matter of Poland, than of the French revolu-

tionary republic. Indeed, the main accomplishment of the First Coalition was

the partition of Poland and the dissolution of the Polish state.

In 1795 the French broke up the coalition. The British withdrew their

army from the Continent. Prussia and Spain each made a separate peace

with France. Indeed, Bourbon Spain—acting for reasons of strategic self-

interest that ignored all ideology or principle—formed an alliance with the French republic

that had guillotined Louis XVI and kept Louis XVIII from his monarchic rights. Spain

simply reverted to an earlier eighteenth-century pattern in allying with France because of

hostility to Great Britain, whose possession of Gibraltar, naval infl uence in the Mediterra-

nean, and attitude toward the Spanish Empire were disquieting to the Spanish government.

When Austria signed the peace of Campo Formio in 1797, the First Coalition was totally

dissipated, only British naval forces remaining engaged with the French.

The Second Coalition of 1799 fared no better. After the British fl eet defeated the

French at the battle of the Nile, cutting off the French army in Egypt, the Russians saw their

ambitions in the Mediterranean blocked mainly by the British and withdrew Suvorov’s

army from western Europe. Austria’s acceptance of the peace of Lunéville in 1801

dissolved the Second Coalition, and in 1802 Great Britain signed the peace of Amiens. For

the only time between 1792 and 1814 no European power was at war with another.

Peace Interim, 1802–1803

Never had a peace been so advantageous to France as the peace of 1802. But Bonaparte

gave it no chance. He used peace as he did war to advance his interests. Seeking to reestab-

lish slavery in the French Caribbean islands, Bonaparte dispatched a sizable army to Saint-

Domingue, where (as noted earlier) the French forces suffered a major defeat and the

The First Coalition

disintegrates

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41347. The Formation of the French Imperial System

Republic of Haiti emerged as a new independent state. Although he had wanted to suppress

Toussaint Louverture and reassert imperial power over a colonial population that was slip-

ping away from French control, Bonaparte sent this army with the additional and wider

goal of reviving France’s colonial empire in America. Spain had ceded Louisiana back to

France in 1800, giving the French a base for expanding their infl uence in the Caribbean,

but this plan collapsed when France failed to defeat the revolutionary movement in Saint-

Domingue. Bonaparte therefore decided to sell the Louisiana territories to the United

States; and the Haitian Revolution, which prevented the restoration of slavery in a long-

held French colony and created a new national state, also contributed directly to a vast

expansion of the new republic in North America. Meanwhile, within the French-dominated

territories of continental Europe, Bonaparte reorganized the Helvetic Republic, making

himself “mediator” of the Confederation of Switzerland. He reorganized Germany; that is

to say, he and his agents closely watched the rearrangement of territory that the Germans

themselves had been carrying out since 1797.

By the treaty of Campo Formio, it will be recalled, German princes of the Left Bank

of the Rhine, expropriated by the annexation of their dominions to the French Repub-

lic, were to receive new territories on the Right Bank. The result was a

scramble that later patriotic German historians called the “shame of the

princes.” The German rulers, far from opposing Bonaparte or upholding

any national interests, competed desperately for the acquisition of various

The “shame of the

princes”

Toussaint Louverture, pic- tured here with a sword and documents to symbolize his independence, led the politi- cal and military movement that ultimately established a new Republic of Haiti in 1804. Although Louverture him- self was captured and sent to a prison in France (where he died in 1803), the French defeat in Haiti made Napoleon aban- don his plans for an American empire and sell Louisiana to the United States. (British Library Board/Robana/Art

Resource, NY)

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Chapter 10 Napoleonic Europe414

German territories, each bribing and fawning upon the French to win French support

against other Germans (Talleyrand made over 10 million francs in this process). The Holy

Roman Empire was fatally mauled by the Germans themselves. Most of its ecclesiastical

principalities and 45 out of its 51 free cities disappeared, annexed by their larger neigh-

bors. The number of states in the Holy Roman Empire was greatly reduced, but Prussia,

Bavaria, Württemberg, and Baden consolidated and enlarged themselves. These arrange-

ments were ratifi ed in February 1803 by the diet of the empire. The enlarged German states

now depended on Bonaparte for the maintenance of their newly enhanced position.

Formation of the Third Coalition in 1805

Britain and France went to war again in 1803. Bonaparte, his communications with America

menaced by the British navy, and his army in Haiti decimated by disease and by the military

campaigns of the Haitian independence movement, had suspended his ideas for re -

creating an American empire. In May 1804, however, he pronounced himself to be Emperor

Napoleon of the French to ensure the hereditary permanency of his imperial system in

Europe, though at the time he had no heir. Francis II of Austria, seeing the Holy Roman

Empire in ruins, promulgated the Austrian Empire in August 1804. He thus advanced the

long process of integrating the Danubian monarchy. In 1805 Austria signed

an alliance with Great Britain; and the Third Coalition was soon completed

by the accession of the Russian Tsar Alexander I, who, after Napoleon him-

self, was to become the most considerable fi gure on the European stage.

Alexander was the grandson of Catherine the Great, educated by her to be a kind of

enlightened despot on the eighteenth-century model. The Swiss tutor of his boyhood, La

Harpe, later turned up as a pro-French revolutionary in the Helvetic Republic of 1798.

Alexander became tsar in 1801, at the age of 24, through a palace revolution that impli-

cated him in the murder of his father Paul. He still corresponded with La Harpe, and he

surrounded himself with a circle of liberal young men of various nationalities, of whom

the most prominent was the young Polish diplomat, Adam Jerzy Czartoryski. Alexander

regarded the still recent partitions of Poland as a crime. Encouraged by Czartoryski, he

wished to restore the unity of Poland with himself as a constitutional king. In Germany

many who had fi rst warmed to the French Revolution, but had become disillusioned, began

to hail the new liberal tsar as the protector of Germany and hope of the future. Alexander

perceived himself as a rival to Napoleon in guiding the destinies of Europe in an age of

change. Moralistic and self-righteous, he puzzled and disturbed the statesmen of Europe,

who generally saw, behind his humane and republican utterances, either an enthroned

leader of all the “Jacobins” of Europe or the familiar specter of Russian aggrandizement.

Yet Alexander, more than his contemporaries, formed a conception of international

collective security and the indivisibility of peace. He declared that the issue in Europe

was clearly between law and force—between an international society in which the rights

of each member were secured by international agreement and organization and a society

in which all trembled before the rule of cynicism and conquest embodied in the French

imperial usurper.

Alexander was therefore ready to enter a Third Coalition with Great Britain. Pictur-

ing himself as a future arbiter of Poland and central Europe, and with secret designs on the

Ottoman Empire and the Mediterranean, he signed a treaty with England in April 1805. The

British agreed to pay Russia £1,250,000 for each 100,000 soldiers that the Russians raised.

Tsar Alexander I

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415

The Third Coalition, 1805–1807: The Peace of Tilsit

Napoleon meanwhile, since the resumption of hostilities in 1803, had been making prepa-

rations to invade England. He concentrated large forces on the Channel coast, together

with thousands of boats and barges in which he gave the troops amphibious training in

embarkation and debarkation. He reasoned that if his own fl eet could divert or cripple the

British fl eet for a few days he could place enough soldiers on the defenseless island to

force its capitulation. The British, sensing mortal danger, lined their coasts with lookouts

and signal beacons and set to drilling a home guard. Their main defense was twofold:

the Austro-Russian armies on the continent and the British fl eet under Lord Nelson. The

Russian and Austrian armies moved westward in the summer of 1805. In August Napoleon

relieved the pressure upon England, shifting seven army corps from the Channel to the

upper Danube. On October 15 he surrounded an Austrian force of 50,000 men at Ulm in

Bavaria, forcing it to surrender without resistance. On October 21 Lord Nelson, off Cape

Trafalgar on the Spanish coast, caught and annihilated the main body of the combined

fl eets of France and Spain.

The battle of Trafalgar established the supremacy of the British navy

for over a century—but only on the proviso that Napoleon be prevented

from controlling most of Europe, which could furnish an ample base for

eventual construction of a greater navy than the British. And to control

Europe was precisely what Napoleon proceeded to do. Moving east from Ulm he came

upon the Russian and Austrian armies in Moravia, where on December 2 he won the great

victory of Austerlitz. The broken Russian army withdrew into Poland, and Austria made

peace. By the treaty of Pressburg Napoleon took Venetia from the Austrians, to whom

he had given it in 1797, and annexed it to his kingdom of Italy (the former Cisalpine and

Italian Republic), which now included a good deal of Italy north of Rome. Venice and

Trieste soon resounded with the hammers of shipwrights rebuilding the Napoleonic fl eet.

In Germany, early in 1806, the French emperor raised Bavaria and Württemberg to the

stature of kingdoms and Baden to a grand duchy. The Holy Roman Empire was fi nally,

formally, and irrevocably dissolved. In its place Napoleon began to gather his German

client states into a new kind of Germanic federation, the Confederation of the Rhine, of

which he made himself the “protector.”

Prussia, at peace with France for ten years, had declined to join the Third Coalition.

But as Napoleon’s program for controlling Germany became clear after Austerlitz, the war

party in Prussia became irresistible, and the Prussian government now went

to war with the French unaided and alone. The French smashed the famous

Prussian army at the battles of Jena and Auerstädt in October 1806. The

French cavalry galloped all over north Germany unopposed. The Prussian

king and his government took refuge in the east, at Königsberg, where the

tsar and the re-forming Russian army might protect them. But the terrible Corsican pursued

the Russians also. Marching through western Poland and into East Prussia, he met the

Russian army fi rst at the sanguinary but indecisive battle of Eylau and then defeated it

on June 14, 1807, at Friedland. Alexander I was unwilling to retreat into Russia. He was

unsure of his own resources; if the country were invaded, there might be a revolt of the

nobles or even of the serfs—for people still remembered the great serf rebellion of the

1770s. Alexander feared also merely playing the game of the British. He put aside his war

aims of 1804 and signifi ed his willingness to negotiate with Napoleon. The Third Coalition

had gone the way of the two before it.

British victory at

Trafalgar

The Third Coalition

collapses

47. The Formation of the French Imperial System

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Chapter 10 Napoleonic Europe416

The Emperor of the French and the Autocrat of All the Russias met privately on a raft

in the Niemen River, not far from the border between Prussia and Russia, the very eastern-

most frontier of modern or “civilized” Europe, as the triumphant Napoleon gleefully imag-

ined it. The hapless Prussian king, Frederick William III, paced nervously on the bank

while the two imperial rulers discussed their visions for the whole European continent.

Bonaparte turned all his charm upon Alexander, denouncing England as the author of all

the troubles of Europe and captivating him by fl ights of Latin imagination, in which he set

before Alexander a boundless destiny as Emperor of the East, intimating

that Russia’s future lay toward Turkey, Persia, Afghanistan, and India. The

result of their conversations was the treaty of Tilsit of July 1807, in many

ways the high point of Napoleon’s success. The French and Russian

empires became allies, mainly against Great Britain. Ostensibly this alliance lasted for fi ve

years. Alexander accepted Napoleon as a kind of Emperor of the West. As for Prussia,

Napoleon continued to occupy Berlin with French troops, and he took away all Prussian

territories west of the Elbe, combining them with others taken from Hanover to make a

new kingdom of Westphalia, which became part of his Confederation of the Rhine.

The Continental System and the War in Spain

Hardly had the “peace of the continent” been reestablished on the foundation of a Franco-

Russian alliance when Napoleon began to have serious trouble. He was bent on subdu-

ing the British who, secure on their island, seemed beyond his reach. Since the French

naval disaster at Trafalgar, there was no possibility of invading England in

the foreseeable future. Napoleon therefore turned to economic warfare. He

would fi ght sea power with land power, using his political control of the

Continent to shut out British goods and to block shipping to Britain from all

European ports. He would destroy the British trade in exports to Europe, both exports of

British products and the profi table British reexport of goods from America and Asia. The

overall strategy, as Napoleon planned it, was to ruin British commercial fi rms and cause a

violent business depression, marked by overloaded warehouses, unemployment, runs on

the banks, a fall of the currency, rising prices, and revolutionary agitation. The British gov-

ernment, which would simultaneously be losing revenues from its customs duties, would

thus fi nd itself unable to carry the enormous national debt, or to borrow additional funds

from its subjects, or to continue its fi nancial subsidies to the military powers of Europe. At

Berlin, in 1806, after the battle of Jena, Napoleon issued the Berlin Decree, forbidding the

importation of British goods into any part of Europe allied with or dependent on himself.

He in that way formally established the Continental System.

To make the Continental System effective Napoleon believed that it must extend to all

continental Europe without exception. By the treaty of Tilsit, in 1807, he required both

Russia and Prussia to adhere to it. They agreed to exclude all British goods; in fact, in the

following months Russia, Prussia, and Austria all declared war on Great Britain. Napoleon

then ordered two neutral states, Denmark and Portugal, to adhere to his exclusionary com-

mercial system. Denmark was an important entrepôt for all central Europe, and the British,

fearing Danish compliance, dispatched a fl eet to Copenhagen, bombarded the city for four

days, and took captive the Danish fl eet. The outraged Danes allied with Napoleon and

joined the Continental System. Portugal, long a satellite of Britain, refused compliance;

Napoleon invaded it. To control the whole European coastline from St. Petersburg around

to Trieste he now had only to control the ports of Spain. By a series of deceptions he got

The Treaty of Tilsit

Economic warfare

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417

both the Bourbon Charles IV and his son Ferdinand to abdicate the Spanish throne, where-

upon the young Ferdinand was imprisoned in France. He then made his brother Joseph

king of Spain in 1808 and reinforced him with a large French army.

He thus involved himself in an Iberian entanglement from which he never escaped.

The Spanish regarded the Napoleonic soldiers as godless villians who desecrated churches.

Fierce guerrillas took the fi eld. Cruelties of one side were answered by atrocities of the

other. The British sent an expeditionary force of their small regular army, eventually under

the Duke of Wellington, to sustain the Spanish guerrillas; the resulting Peninsular War

dragged on for fi ve years. But from the beginning the affair went badly for Napoleon.

In July 1808 a French general, for the fi rst time since the Revolution,

surrendered an entire army corps, which had been surrounded and forced

to capitulate at Bailén. In August another French force surrendered to the

British army in Portugal. And these events raised hopes in the rest of Europe.

The Peninsular War

in Spain

This meeting between Napoleon and Russia’s Alexander I on the Niemen River produced an alliance and the Continental System. The new system was aimed against the British, but Alexander soon disliked the restrictions on Anglo-Russian commerce. His withdrawal from the Continental System provoked Napoleon’s disastrous invasion of Russia in 1812. (Rare Book Collection, University of North Carolina)

47. The Formation of the French Imperial System

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Chapter 10 Napoleonic Europe418

An anti-French movement swept over Germany. It was felt strongly in Austria, where the

Habsburg government, undaunted by three defeats and hoping to lead a general German

national resistance, prepared for a fourth time since 1792 to go to war with France.

The Austrian War of Liberation, 1809

Napoleon summoned a general congress that met at Erfurt in Saxony in September 1808.

His main purpose was to talk with his ally of a year, Alexander; but he assembled numer-

ous dependent monarchs as well, by whose presence he hoped to overawe the tsar. He even

had Talma, the leading actor of the day, play in the theater of Erfurt before “a parterre of

kings.” Alexander was unimpressed. He was hurt in a sensitive spot because Napoleon, a

few months before, had made moves without Russian involvement to re-create a Polish

state, setting up what was called the Grand Duchy of Warsaw. This was not the kind of

Polish state that Alexander had envisoned, and he had also found Napoleon unwilling,

despite the grandiose language of Tilsit, really to support his expansion into the Balkans.

In addition, Alexander was taken aside by Talleyrand, Napoleon’s foreign

minister. Talleyrand had concluded that Napoleon was overreaching himself

and said so confi dentially to the tsar, advising him to wait. Talleyrand thus

betrayed the man whom he ostensibly served and prepared a safe place for

himself in the event of Napoleon’s fall; but he acted also as an aristocrat of the prenational-

istic Old Regime, seeing his own country as only one part of the whole of Europe, believ-

ing a balance among the several parts to be necessary and holding that peace would be

possible only when the exaggerated reach of French power would be reduced. For France

and Russia, the two strongest states, to combine against all other states was contrary to all

principles of the older diplomacy.

Austria proclaimed a war of liberation in April 1809. Napoleon advanced rapidly along

the familiar route to Vienna. The German princes, indebted to the French, declined to join in

a general German war against him. Alexander stood watchfully on the sidelines. Napoleon

won the battle of Wagram in July. In October Austria made peace. The short war of 1809

was over. The Danubian monarchy, by no means as fragile as it seemed, survived a fourth

defeat at the hands of the French without internal revolution or disloyalty to the Habsburg

house. From it, in punishment, Napoleon took part of Austrian Poland to enlarge the Grand

Duchy of Warsaw; and he took parts of Austrian-controlled Dalmatia, Slovenia, and Croatia

to establish a new creation that Napoleon called the Illyrian Provinces (see map, p. 423).

Napoleon at His Peak, 1809–1811

The next two years saw the Napoleonic Empire at its peak. In Austria

after the defeat of 1809 the conduct of foreign affairs fell to Clemens von

Metternich, who was to remain the Austrian foreign minister for 40 years.

He was a German from west of the Rhine, whose ancestral territories had

been annexed to the French Republic, but he had entered the Austrian service and even

married the granddaughter of Kaunitz, the old model of diplomatic savoir-faire, of which

Metternich now became a model himself. Austria had been repeatedly humiliated and even

partitioned by Napoleon, but Metternich was not a man to conduct diplomacy by grudges.

Believing that Russia was the really permanent problem for a state situated in the Danube

valley, Metternich thought it wise to renew good relations with France. He was quite willing

to go along with Napoleon, whom he knew personally, having been Austrian ambassador

to Paris before the short war of 1809.

Talleyrand

Metternich

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419

The French emperor, who in 1809 was exactly 40, was increasingly concerned by the

fact that he was childless. He had made an empire that he pronounced hereditary. Yet he

had no heir. Between him and his wife Josephine whom he had married in youth, and who

was six years his senior, there had long since ceased to be affection or even fi delity on either

side. He divorced her in 1809, though she protested that Napoleon’s childlessness was not

her fault (she had two children by a fi rst husband). He intended to marry a younger woman

who might bear him offspring. He intended also to make a spectacular marriage, to extort

for himself, a self-made Corsican army offi cer, the highest and most exclusive recognition

that aristocratic Europe could bestow. Tactful inquiries at St. Petersburg concerning the

availability of Alexander’s sister were tactfully rebuffed; the tsar intimated that his mother

would never allow it. The Russian alliance again showed its limitations. Napoleon was thus

thrown into the arms of Metternich—and of Marie Louise, the 18-year-old daughter of the

Austrian emperor and niece of another “Austrian woman,” Marie Antoinette. They were

married in 1810. In a year she bore him a son, whom he entitled the King of Rome.

THE THIRD OF MAY 1808 by Francisco de Goya (Spanish, 1746–1828)

Facing steadfast resistance to their military occupation of Spain, the French army committed atrocities such as the brutal scene that Goya portrayed in this image of the Peninsular War. (Erich Lessing/Art Resource, NY)

47. The Formation of the French Imperial System

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Chapter 10 Napoleonic Europe420

Napoleon assumed ever more pompous airs of imperial majesty. He was now, by

marriage, the nephew of Louis XVI. He showed more consideration to French noblemen of

the Old Regime—only they, he said, knew really how to serve. He surrounded himself with

a newly made hereditary Napoleonic nobility, hoping that the new families, as time went

on, would bind their own fortunes to the house of Bonaparte. The marshals became dukes

and princes; Talleyrand became the Prince of Benevento; and the bourgeois Fouché, an

Hébertist radical in 1793 and more latterly a police offi cial, was now solemnly addressed

as the Duke of Otranto. In foreign affairs also older diplomatic relations seemed to be reap-

pearing. With one signifi cant exception, all the powers of the successive coalitions were

allied with the French, and the Son of the Revolution now gravely referred to the emperor

of Austria as “my father.”

48. THE GRAND EMPIRE: SPREAD OF THE REVOLUTION

The Organization of the Napoleonic Empire

Territorially Napoleon’s infl uence enjoyed its farthest reach in 1810 and

1811, when it included the entire European mainland except the Balkan

peninsula. The Napoleonic domain was in two parts. Its core was the French

Empire; then came thick layers of dependent states, which together with

France comprised the Grand Empire. In addition, to the north and east were the “allied

states” under their traditional governments—the three great powers, Prussia, Austria, and

Russia, and also Denmark and Sweden. The allied states were at war with Great Britain,

though not engaged in positive hostilities; their populations were supposed to do without

British goods under the Continental System, but otherwise Napoleon had no direct lawful

infl uence upon their internal affairs.

The French Empire, as successor to the French Republic, included Belgium and the

Left Bank of the Rhine. In addition, by 1810, it had developed two appendages that on

a map looked like tentacles outstretched from it (see the map on p. 423). When he pro-

claimed France an empire and turned its dependent republics into kingdoms, Napoleon

had set up his brother Louis as king of Holland; but Louis had shown such a tendency to

ingratiate himself with the Dutch, and such a willingness to let Dutch businessmen trade

secretly with the British, that Napoleon dethroned him and incorporated Holland into the

French Empire. In his endless war upon British goods, Napoleon found it useful to exert

more direct control over the ports of Bremen, Hamburg, Lübeck, Genoa, and Leghorn; he

therefore annexed directly to the French Empire the German coast as far as the western

Baltic, and the Italian coast far enough to include Rome, which he desired for its imperial

rather than its commercial value. Harking back to traditions as old as Charlemagne, he

considered Rome the second city of his empire and entitled his son the “King of Rome.”

When Pope Pius VII protested, Napoleon took him prisoner and interned him in France.

The whole French Empire, from Lübeck to Rome, was governed directly by departmental

prefects who reported to Paris, and the 83 departments of France, created by the Constitu-

ent Assembly, had risen to 130 by 1810.

The dependent states, forming with France the Grand Empire, were of different kinds.

The Swiss federation remained republican in form. The Illyrian Provinces, which included

Trieste and the Dalmatian coast, were administered in their brief two years almost like

departments of France. In Poland, because the Russians objected to a revived kingdom of

The empire at its

height

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42148. The Grand Empire: Spread of the Revolution

Poland, Napoleon called his creation the Grand Duchy of Warsaw. Among the most impor-

tant of the dependent states in the Grand Empire were the German states organized into the

Confederation of the Rhine. Too modestly named, the Confederation included all Germany

between what the French annexed on the west and what Prussia and Austria retained on the

east. It was a league of all the German princes in this region who were regarded as sover-

eign and who now numbered only about 20, the most important being the four newly made

kings of Saxony, Bavaria, Württemberg, and Westphalia. Westphalia was an entirely new

and synthetic state, made up of Hanoverian and Prussian territories and of various small

parts of the old Germany. Its king was Napoleon’s youngest brother, Jerome.

Napoleon liked to use his family as a means of rule. The Corsican clan became the

Bonaparte dynasty. His brother Joseph from 1804 to 1808 functioned as king of Naples

and after 1808 as king of Spain. Louis Bonaparte was for six years king of Holland;

Jerome was king of Westphalia. Sister Caroline became queen of Naples after brother

Joseph’s transfer to Spain; for Napoleon, running out of brothers (having quarreled with

his remaining brother, Lucien), gave the throne of Naples to his brother-in-law, Joachim

Murat, a cavalry offi cer who was Caroline’s husband. In the “Kingdom of Italy,” which in

1810 included Lombardy, Venetia, and most of the former papal states, Napoleon himself

retained the title of king, but set up his stepson, Eugène Beauharnais (Josephine’s son)

as viceroy. The mother of the Bonapartes, Letitia, who had brought up all these children

under very different circumstances in Corsica, was suitably installed at the imperial court

as Madame Mère. According to legend she kept repeating to herself, “If only it lasts!”; she

outlived Napoleon by 15 years.

Napoleon and the Spread of the Revolution

In all the states of the Grand Empire the same course of events tended to

repeat itself. First came the stage of military conquest and occupation by

French troops. Then came the establishment of a native satellite govern-

ment with the support of local persons who were willing to collaborate with

the French and who helped in the drafting of a constitution specifying the powers of the

new government and regularizing its relationships with France. In some areas these two

stages had been accomplished under the republican governments before Napoleon came

to power. In some regions no more than these two stages really occurred, notably in Spain

and the Grand Duchy of Warsaw.

The third stage of French infl uence was one of sweeping internal reform and reorgani-

zation, modeled on Bonaparte’s program for France and hence derivatively on the French

Revolution. Belgium and the German territories west of the Rhine underwent this stage

most thoroughly, because they were annexed directly to France for 20 years. Italy and

much of Germany west of Prussia and Austria also experienced the third stage.

Napoleon considered himself a great reformer and man of the Enlight-

enment. He called his system “liberal,” and though the word to him meant

almost the reverse of what it later meant to nineteenth-century liberals,

he was possibly the fi rst to use it in a political sense. He believed also in

“constitutions”; not that he favored representative assemblies or limited government, but

he wanted government to be rationally “constituted,” that is, deliberately mapped out and

planned, not merely inherited from the jumble of the past. Although his own methods of

governing were authoritarian, he believed fi rmly in the rule of law. He insisted with the

zeal of conviction on transplanting his Civil Code to the dependent states. He assumed

Stages of French

occupation

Napoleon as reformer

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Chapter 10 Napoleonic Europe422

that this code was based on the universal nature of justice and human relationships, and

he believed that it must therefore be applicable to all countries with no more than minor

adaptation. The idea that a country’s laws must mirror its distinctive national character and

history was foreign to his mind, for he carried over the rationalist and universalist outlook

of the Age of Enlightenment. He thought that people everywhere wanted, and deserved,

much the same thing. As he wrote to his brother Jerome, on making him king of Westpha-

lia, “the peoples of Germany, as of France, Italy and Spain, want equality and liberal ideas.

For some years now I have been managing the affairs of Europe, and I am convinced that

the crowing of the privileged classes was everywhere disliked. Be a constitutional king.”

The same plan of reform was initiated, with some variation, in all the dependent states

from Spain to Poland and from the mouth of the Elbe to the Straits of Messina. The reforms

were directed, in a word, against everything that still affi rmed or protected the old “feudal”

hierarchies. They established the legal equality of individual persons and gave governments

more complete authority over their individual subjects. Legal classes were wiped out, as in

France in 1789; the theory of a society made up of “estates of the realm” gave way to the

theory of a society made up of legally equal individuals. The nobility lost its privileges in

taxation, offi ceholding, and military command. Careers were “opened to talent.”

The manorial system, bulwark of the old aristocracy, was virtually liquidated wherever

French infl uence became predominant. Lords lost all legal jurisdiction over their peasants;

peasants became subjects of the state, personally free to move, migrate, or marry, and able

to bring suit in the courts of law. The manorial fees, along with tithes, were generally abol-

ished, as in France in 1789. In France the peasants escaped from these burdens without

having to pay compensation, in part because they had themselves risen in rebellion in 1789

and in part because France passed through a radical popular revolution in 1793. In other

parts of the Grand Empire, however, the peasants were required to pay indemnities, and the

former feudal class continued to receive income from its abolished rights. Only in Belgium

and the Rhineland, incorporated into France under the republic, did the manorial regime

disappear without compensation as in France, leaving a numerous entrenched class of small

landowning farmers. East of the Rhine Napoleon had to compromise with the aristocracy

that he assailed. In Poland, the only country in the Grand Empire where a thoroughgo-

ing serfdom had prevailed, the peasants received legal freedom during the French occupa-

tion; but the Polish landlords remained economically unharmed, because they owned all

the land. Napoleon had to conciliate them, for there was no other effective class in Poland

to which he could look for support. In general, outside of France, the assault upon feudal

traditions was not socially as revolutionary as it had been in France. The lord was gone, but

the landlord remained.

Everywhere in the Grand Empire the church lost its position as a public authority along-

side the state. Church courts were abolished or restricted; the Inquisition was outlawed in

Spain. Tithes were done away with, church property was confi scated, and monastic orders

were dissolved or severely regulated. Toleration became the law; Catholics, Protestants,

NAPOLEONIC EUROPE, 1810 Napoleon extended the sphere of French power well beyond the earlier expansion of the French Republic. By 1810 he dominated the whole continent except Portugal and the Balkan penin- sula. Russia, Prussia, and Austria had been forced into alliance with him, and he had made his brothers kings of Spain, Holland, and Westphalia; his brother-in-law king of Naples; and his stepson viceroy of Italy. The old Holy Roman Empire disappeared into other states, including Napoleon’s Confederation of the Rhine. In Poland, Napoleon undid part of the late eighteenth- century partitions by setting up the Grand Duchy of Warsaw.

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423

0 100 200 300 miles

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MONTENEGRO

A U

ST R IA AUSTRIA

FRENCH EMPIRE

SPAIN

CONFEDERATION OF THE RHINE

KINGDOM OF DENMARK AND NORWAY

GREAT BRITAIN

MOREA

A LB

A N

IA

KINGDOM OF SICILY

KINGDOM OF SARDINIA

PORTUGAL

MOROCCO

0 100 200 miles

Napoleon’s Russian Campaign June to December, 1812

Brest-Litovsk

Moscow Borodino

Smolensk

Borisov Tilsit

Königsberg

Riga

Vilna

Kovno

Vitebsk

Warsaw

RUSSIAN EMPIRE

Baltic Sea

48. The Grand Empire: Spread of the Revolution

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Chapter 10 Napoleonic Europe424

Jews, and unbelievers received the same civil rights. The state was to be based not on the

idea of religious community but on the idea of territorial residence. With the nobility, or on

economic matters, Napoleon would compromise; but he would not compromise with the

Catholic clergy on the principle of a secular state. Even in Spain he insisted on the funda-

mental secularism of his system, a sure indication that he was not motivated by expediency

only, because it was largely his antireligious program that provoked the Spanish populace

to rebellion.

Guilds were generally abolished or reduced to empty forms, and the individual’s right

to work was generally proclaimed. Peasants, gaining legal freedom, might learn and enter

any trade they chose. The old town oligarchies and bourgeois patriciates were broken up.

Towns and provinces lost their antique liberties and came under the general legislation of

the whole governing state. Internal tariffs were removed, and free trade within state fron-

tiers was encouraged. Some countries shifted to a decimal system of money; and the het-

erogeneous weights and measures that had originated in the Middle Ages, and of which

the Anglo-American bushels, yards, ounces, and pints are living survivals, yielded to the

Cartesian regularities of the metric system. Ancient and diverse legal systems gave way to

the Napoleonic codes. Law courts were separated from the administration. Hereditary

offi ce and the sale of offi ce disappeared. Offi cials received salaries large enough to shield

them from the temptations of corruption. Kings were put on civil lists, with their personal

expenses separated from those of the government. Taxes and fi nances were modernized.

The common tax became a land tax, paid by every landowner; and governments knew how

much land each owner really possessed, for they developed systematic methods of

appraisal and assessment. Tax farming was replaced by direct collection. New methods of

accounting and of collecting statistics were introduced.

In general, in all countries of the Grand Empire, some of the main principles of the

French Revolution were introduced under Napoleon, with the notable exception that there

was no self-government through elected legislative bodies. In all countries

Napoleon found numerous persons who were willing to support him, mainly

among people in the commercial and professional classes, who were gener-

ally aware of Enlightenment writers, often anticlerical, desirous of more

equality with the nobility, and eager to break down the old localisms that interfered with

trade and the exchange of ideas. He found supporters also among many progressive nobles

and, in the Confederation of the Rhine, among the German rulers. His program appealed

to some people everywhere, and in all parts of the Grand Empire the Napoleonic reforms

were executed mainly by local leaders. Repression went with it, though hardly on the same

scale as the repressions of later dictatorships. There were no vast internment camps, and

Fouché’s police were engaged more in spying and submitting reports than in the brutaliz-

ing of the disaffected. The execution of a single Bavarian bookseller, named Palm, became

a famous outrage.

In short, there was at fi rst a good deal of pro-Napoleonic feeling in the Grand Empire.

The French infl uence (outside Belgium and the Rhineland) struck deepest in north Italy,

where there were no native monarchist traditions and where the old Italian city-states had

produced a strong and often anticlerical burgher class. In south Germany also the French

infl uence was profound. The French system had the least appeal in Spain, where Catholic

royalist sentiment produced a kind of counterrevolutionary movement of independence.

Nor did it appeal to agrarian eastern Europe, the land of lord and serf. Yet even in Prus-

sia, as will be seen, the state was remodeled along French lines. In Russia, during the

Tilsit alliance, Alexander gave his backing to a pro-French reforming minister, Speranski.

The Napoleonic infl uence was pervasive because it carried over the older movement

Support for Napoleon

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42549. The Continental System: Britain and Europe

of enlightened despotism and seemed to confer the advantages of the French Revolution

without the violence and the disorder. Napoleon, it seemed to Goethe, “was the expression

of all that was reasonable, legitimate and European in the revolutionary movement.”

But Napoleon’s reforms were also weapons of war. All the dependent states were

required to supply Napoleon with money and soldiers. Germans, Dutch, Belgians, Italians,

Poles, and even Spaniards fought in his armies. In addition, the dependent states defrayed

much of the cost of the French army, most of which was stationed outside France. This

meant that taxes in France could remain low, to the general satisfaction of the propertied

interests that had emerged or benefi ted from the Revolution.

49. THE CONTINENTAL SYSTEM: BRITAIN AND EUROPE

Beyond the tributary states of the Grand Empire lay the countries nominally independent,

joined under Napoleon in the Continental System. Napoleon thought of his allies as at best

subordinate partners in a common project. The great project was to crush Great Britain,

NAPOLEONIC GERMANY In the panel at the left are shown, by shading, territories of the Duchy of Württemberg in 1800. Note how Württemberg had “islands” of territory embedded within other states and how “holes” or enclaves formed by smaller states were enclosed within the core territories of Württemberg. Note, too, how Württemberg, itself only 50 miles wide, was surrounded by a mosaic of tiny jurisdictions—free cities, counties, duchies, principalities, abbacies, command- eries, bishoprics, arch-bishoprics, etc.—all “independent” within the Holy Roman Empire. The right-hand panel shows the Kingdom of Württemberg as consolidated and enlarged in the time of Napoleon. Similar consolidations all over Germany greatly reduced the number of states and added to the effi ciency of law and government.

Neckar R.

Rh in

e R.

Dan ub

e

R.

Iller R.

L. Constance

B A D E

N

SWITZERLAND

Stuttgart

F R A N C E

Württemberg in 1800

Smaller German States

0 10 20 30 miles Neckar R.

Rh in

e R.

D an ub

e R .

Iller R.

L. Constance B

A D

E N

SWITZERLAND

Stuttgart

F R A N C E

Württemberg in 1810

0 10 20 30 miles

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Chapter 10 Napoleonic Europe426

Germaine de Staël was an infl u- ential leader of the liberal oppo- sition to Napoleon’s repressive cultural policies. She was forced to live in exile in Switzerland, but both her Swiss home and her writings provided crucial support for Napoleon’s critics. (Ken Welsh/The Bridgeman

Art Library)

and it was for this purpose that the Continental System had been established. But the crush-

ing of Britain became in Napoleon’s mind a means to a further end, the unifi cation and

mastery of all of Europe. This in turn, had he achieved it, would doubtless have merely

opened the way to other conquests.

At the point where he stood in 1807 or 1810 the unifi cation of con-

tinental Europe seemed a not impossible objective. He cast about for an

ideology to inspire both his Grand Empire and his allies. He held out the

cosmopolitan doctrines of the eighteenth century, spoke endlessly of the

enlightenment of the age, and urged all peoples to work with him against the medieval-

ism, ignorance, and obscurantism by which they were surrounded. Although he disliked

and even suppressed the creative work of writers such as his vehement critic Germaine de

Staël, Napoleon encouraged innovative scientifi c research and rewarded the scientists who

pursued it. He viewed science as the essential, rational foundation of modern knowledge.

And while appealing to ideas of modernity or progress he dwelt also on the grandeur of

Roman times. The Roman inspiration appeared in the arts he supported and in the archi-

tecture that expressed Napoleon’s conception of imperial glory. The massive “empire”

furniture, the heroic canvases of David, the church of the Madeleine in Paris (resembling a

classical temple and converted to a Temple of Glory), and the Arch of Triumph in the same

city (begun in 1806) all evoked the atmosphere of far-spreading imperial majesty and unity

in which Napoleon would have liked the peoples of Europe to live. In addition, to arouse

an all-European feeling, Napoleon worked upon the latent hostility to Great Britain. The

Continental unity

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427

British, in winning much of the eighteenth-century struggle for wealth and empire, had

made themselves disliked in many quarters. There was the natural jealousy felt toward the

successful, and resentment against the high-handedness by which success had been won

and maintained. Such feelings were present among almost all Europeans. It was believed

that the British were really using their sea power to win a larger permanent share of the

world’s seaborne commerce for themselves. Nor, in truth, was this belief mistaken.

British Blockade and Napoleon’s Continental System

The British, in the Revolutionary and Napoleonic wars, when they declared France and its

allies in a state of blockade, did not expect either to starve them or to deprive them of

necessary materials of war. Western Europe was still self-suffi cient in food, and arma-

ments were to a large extent produced locally from simple materials like iron, copper, and

saltpeter. Europe required almost nothing indispensable from overseas. T he chief aim of

the British blockade was not, therefore, to keep imports out of enemy countries. The goal

was to keep the trade in such imports out of French or European control and thereby kill

off enemy commerce and shipping. In the short run the British sought to weaken the war-

making powers of the enemy government by undermining its revenues and its navy; and

in the long run they wanted to weaken the enemy’s commercial position in world markets.

Economic warfare was trade warfare. The British were willing enough to have British

goods pass through to Europe either by smuggling or by the mediation

of neutrals.

As early as 1793 the French republicans had denounced England as

the “modern Carthage,” a ruthless mercantile and profi t-seeking power that

aspired to enslave Europe to its fi nancial and commercial system. With the

wars, the British in fact obtained a monopoly over the shipment of overseas commodi-

ties into Europe. At the same time, being relatively advanced in the new techniques of

industrial production, they could produce cotton cloth and certain other articles, by power

machinery, more cheaply than other peoples of Europe. Britain thus threatened to monopo-

lize the European market for such manufactured goods. There was much feeling in Europe

against the modern Carthage, especially among the bourgeois and commercial classes who

were in competition with it. The upper classes were perhaps less hostile, not caring where

the goods that they consumed had originated, but aristocracies and governments were sus-

ceptible to the argument that Britain was a money power, a “nation of shopkeepers” as

Napoleon put it, which fought its wars with pounds sterling instead of blood and was

always in search of dupes in Europe.

It was on all these feelings that Napoleon played, reiterating time and again that

England was the real enemy of all Europe, and that Europe would never be prosperous or

economically independent until relieved of the incubus of British “monopoly.” To prevent

the fl ow of goods into Britain was no more the purpose of the Continental System than to

prevent the fl ow of goods into France was the purpose of the British blockade. The purpose

of each was to destroy the enemy’s commerce, credit, and public revenues by the destruc-

tion of its exports—and also to build up markets for their own national

economies.

To destroy British exports Napoleon prohibited, by the Berlin Decree

of 1806, the importation of British goods into the continent of Europe.

Goods were counted as British if they came from either British or British colonial origins,

even if they were brought to Europe in neutral ships as the property of neutrals. The British,

Anti-British

sentiments

Trade warfare

49. The Continental System: Britain and Europe

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Chapter 10 Napoleonic Europe428

in response, ruled by an “order in council” of November 1807 that neutrals might enter

Napoleonic ports only if they fi rst stopped in Great Britain, where the regulations were

such as to encourage their loading with British goods. The British thus tried to move their

exports into enemy territory through neutral channels, which was precisely what Napoleon

intended to prevent. He announced, by the Milan Decree of December 1807, that any

neutral vessel that had stopped at a British port, or submitted to search by a British warship

at sea, would be confi scated upon its appearance in a Continental harbor.

With all Europe at war, virtually the only major trading neutral nation was the United

States, which could now trade with neither England nor Europe except by violating the

regulations of one belligerent or the other. It would thus become liable to reprisals, and

hence to involvement in war. President Jefferson, to avoid war, attempted a self-imposed

policy of commercial isolation that proved so ruinous to American foreign trade that the

United States government took steps to renew trade relations with whichever belligerent

fi rst removed its controls over neutral commerce. Napoleon offered to do so, on the condi-

tion that the United States would defend itself against the enforcement of British controls.

At the same time an expansionist party among the Americans, ambitious to annex Canada,

believed that with the British army engaged in Spain the time was ripe to complete the

War of Independence by driving Britain from the North American main-

land. The result was the Anglo-American War of 1812, which brought the

new American nation into the wider confl ict of the Atlantic world but had

few results, except to demonstrate the ineffi ciency of military institutions in

the new republic.

But Napoleon’s Continental System was more than a device for destroying the export

trade of Great Britain. It was also a scheme for developing the economy of continental

Europe, around France as its main center. The Continental System, if successful, would

replace the national economies with an integrated economy for the Continent as a whole.

It would create the commercial framework for a more unifi ed European civilization. And

it would ruin the British sea power and commercial monopoly; for a unifi ed Europe,

Napoleon thought, would itself soon take to the sea.

The Failure of the Continental System

But the Continental System failed; it was worse than a failure, for it caused widespread

antagonism to the Napoleonic regime. The dream of a united Europe, under French rule,

was not suffi ciently attractive to inspire the necessary sacrifi ce—even a sacrifi ce more of

comforts than of necessities. As Napoleon impatiently said, one would suppose that the

destinies of Europe turned upon a barrel of sugar. It was true, as he and his propagandists

insisted, that Britain monopolized the sale of sugar, tobacco, and other overseas goods, but

people preferred to deal clandestinely with the British rather than go without them. The

irrepressible desire for American commodities destroyed the Continental System.

British manufactures were somewhat easier than colonial goods to replace. Raw cotton

was brought by land from the Middle East through the Balkans, and the cotton manufac-

turers of France, Saxony, Switzerland, and north Italy were stimulated by the relief from

British competition. There was a great expansion of Danish woolens and German hardware.

The cultivation of sugar beets, to replace cane sugar, spread in France, central Europe,

Holland, and even Russia. Thus infant industries and investments were built up that, after

Napoleon’s fall, clamored for tariff protection. In general, the European industrial interests

were well disposed toward the Continental System.

The War of 1812

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429

Yet they could never adequately replace the British in supplying the

market. One obstacle was transportation. Much trading between parts of

the Continent had always been by sea; this coastal traffi c was now blocked

by the British. Land routes were increasingly used, even in the faraway

Balkans and Illyrian Provinces, through which raw cotton was brought; and improved

roads were built through the Simplon and Mont Cenis passes in the Alps. No less than

17,000 wheeled vehicles crossed the Mont Cenis pass in 1810. But land transport, at best,

was no substitute for the sea. Without railroads, introduced some 30 years later, a purely

Continental modern economy could not be maintained; and transoceanic trade had in any

case already shown that the political plan for a land-based commercial system would

likely become a historical anachronism in modern European societies.

Another obstacle was tariffs. The idea of a Continental tariff union was put forward by

some of his subordinates, but Napoleon never adopted it. The dependent states remained

insistent on their ostensible sovereignty. Each had widened its trading area by demolishing

former internal tariffs; but Europeans could not yet view their continent as a unifi ed com-

mercial system, and each state kept a tariff against the others. The kingdoms of Italy and

Naples enjoyed no free trade with each other nor did the German states of the Confedera-

tion of the Rhine. France remained protectionist; and when Napoleon annexed Holland

Consequences of the

Continental System

Construction on the Arch of Triumph began in 1806, but it was not completed until 1836. It became a monument of French nationalism, symbolizing both the Republic and the Empire. The continuous band of bas reliefs above the curve of the arch represented 172 French battles since Valmy in 1792. (Hulton Archive/Getty Images)

49. The Continental System: Britain and Europe

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Chapter 10 Napoleonic Europe430

and parts of Italy to France, he kept them outside the French customs. At the same time

Napoleon forbade the satellite states to raise high tariffs against France. France was his

base, and he meant to favor French industry, which was much crippled by its loss of its

Middle Eastern and American markets.

Shippers, shipbuilders, and dealers in overseas goods, a powerful

element of the older bourgeoisie, were ruined by the Continental System. The

French ports were idle and their populations were distressed and disgruntled.

The same problems befell all ports of Europe where the blockade was strictly enforced; at

Trieste, total annual tonnage fell from 208,000 in 1807 to 60,000 in 1812. Eastern Europe

was especially hard hit. In western Europe there was some stimulus to new manufactures.

Eastern Europe, long dependent on western Europe for manufactured goods, could no longer

obtain them from England legally, nor from France, Germany, or Bohemia because of the

diffi culties of land transport and the British control of the Baltic. Nor could the landown-

ers of Prussia, Poland, and Russia market their produce. The aristocracy of eastern Europe,

which was the principal spending and importing class, had additional reason to dislike the

French and to sympathize with the British.

As a war measure against Britain the Continental System also failed. British trade

with Europe was signifi cantly reduced, but the loss was made up elsewhere because

of British control of the sea. Exports to Latin America rose from £300,000 in 1805 to

Economic stagnation

Napoleon used architecture to show that Paris was the capital of modern Europe and that his empire replicated the imperial grandeur of ancient Rome. He built the multicolumned Madeleine to be a temple of glory, but after his fall from power it became a church. (Bettmann/Corbis)

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43150. The National Movements and New Nationalist Cultures

£6,300,000 in 1809. Here again the existence of the overseas world frustrated the Conti-

nental System. Despite the System, export of British cotton goods, rising on a continuous

tide of the rapidly developing Industrial Revolution, more than doubled in four years from

1805 to 1809. And while part of the increase was due to mere infl ation and rising prices,

it is estimated that the annual income of the British people more than doubled in the

Revolutionary and Napoleonic wars, growing from £140,000,000 in 1792 to £335,000,000

in 1814. Napoleon’s Continental System, in short, could never match or constrain the

expanding global systems of international trade and commerce.

50. THE NATIONAL MOVEMENTS AND NEW NATIONALIST CULTURES

The Resistance to Napoleon: Nationalism

From the beginning, as far back as 1792, the French met with resistance as well as collabora-

tion in the countries they occupied. There was resentment when the invading armies plun-

dered and laid requisitions upon the occupied countries; and there was anger when local

populations were required to pay tribute in men and money and to adopt policies that were

dictated by representatives of the French government. Europeans began to feel that Napoleon

was employing them merely as tools against England. And in all countries, including France

itself, people grew tired of the peace that was no peace, the wars and rumors of war, the

conscription and the taxes, the loss of lives and local liberties, the aloof bureaucratic govern-

ment, and the obviously insatiable appetite of Napoleon for power and self-exaltation.

Movements of protest and independence showed themselves even within the Napoleonic

structure. We have seen how the dependent states protected themselves by tariffs. Even the

emperor’s proconsuls tried to gain the support of local opinion, as when Louis Bonaparte,

king of Holland, tried to defend Dutch interests against Napoleon’s demands, or when Murat,

king of Naples, appealed to Italian sentiment to secure his own throne.

Nationalism developed as a movement of resistance against the forcible international-

ism of the Napoleonic Empire. Because the international system was essentially French,

the nationalistic movements were anti-French; and because Napoleon was

an autocrat, they were antiautocratic. The nationalism of the period was a

mixture of the conservative and the liberal. Some nationalists, predomi-

nantly conservative, insisted on the value of their own unique institutions,

customs, folkways, and historical development, which they feared might be

obliterated under the French and Napoleonic system. Others, or indeed the same persons,

insisted on more self-determination, more participation in government, more representa-

tive institutions, and more freedom for individuals against the bureaucratic interference of

the state. Both conservative and liberal nationalists rose up against Napoleon, destroyed

him, outlasted him, and shaped the history of the following generations.

Nationalism was thus very complex and appeared in different countries in different

ways. In England a profound national solidarity developed as people of different social

classes stood shoulder to shoulder against “Boney”; and ideas of reforming Parliament or

tampering with historic English liberties were resolutely put aside. It is possible that the

Napoleonic wars helped England through a very diffi cult social crisis, for the Industrial

Revolution was causing dislocation, misery, unemployment, and even revolutionary agita-

tion among a small minority, all of which were eclipsed by the patriotic need for resistance

to Bonaparte. In Spain, nationalism took the form of implacable resistance to the French

armies that desolated the land. Some Spanish nationalists were liberal; a bourgeois group

Anti-French

nationalism

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Chapter 10 Napoleonic Europe432

at Cádiz, rebelling against the French regime, proclaimed the liberal Spanish constitution

of 1812, modeled on the French constitution of 1791. But Spanish nationalism drew its

greatest strength from sentiments that were counterrevolutionary, aiming to restore the

clergy and the Bourbons. In Italy the Napoleonic regime was better liked and national feel-

ing was less anti-French than in Spain. Commercial groups in the Italian cities generally

prized the effi ciency and enlightenment of French methods and often shared in the anti-

clericalism of the French Revolution. The French regime, which lasted in Italy from 1796

to 1814, broke the habit of loyalty to the various duchies, oligarchic republics, papal states,

and foreign dynasties by which Italy had long been ruled. Napoleon never unifi ed Italy,

but he consolidated it into only three parts, and the French infl uence brought the emerging

desire for a politically united Italy within the bounds of reasonable aspiration. Among the

Poles, Napoleon positively encouraged national feeling. He repeatedly told them that they

might win a restored and united Poland by faithfully fi ghting in his cause. A few Polish

nationalists, like the aging patriot Kosciusko, never trusted Napoleon, and some others,

like Czartoryski, looked rather to the Russian tsar for a restoration of the Polish kingdom;

but in general the Poles, for their own national reasons, were exceptionally devoted to the

emperor of the French and long lamented his passing.

The Movement of Thought in Napoleonic Germany

By far the most momentous new national movement developed in Germany.

The Germans rebelled not only against the Napoleonic rule but also against

the century-old ascendancy of French civilization. They rebelled not only

against the French armies but also against much of the philosophy of the Age

of Enlightenment. The years of the French Revolution and Napoleon were

for Germany the years of great cultural effl orescence, the years of Beethoven, Goethe, and

Schiller, of Herder, Kant, Fichte, Hegel, Schleiermacher, and many others. German ideas

fell in with all the ferment of the new cultural movement known as “romanticism,” which

was everywhere challenging the “dry abstractions” of the Age of Reason and shaping the

new themes of literature, music, art, and historical research. Romanticism contributed to

a growing German critique of eighteenth-century French culture, and German infl uence

spread into the culture and politics of other European societies. In the nineteenth century

the Germans came to be widely regarded as intellectual leaders, somewhat as the French

had been in the century before. And many of the distinctive features of German thought

were somehow connected with the broader anti-Enlightenment themes of both nationalism

and romantic philosophy.

Formerly, especially in the century following the Peace of Westphalia, the Germans

had been the least nationally minded of all the larger European peoples. They prided them-

selves on their world citizenship or cosmopolitan outlook. Looking out from the small states

in which most Germans lived, they were conscious of Europe, conscious of other countries,

but hardly conscious of Germany. The Holy Roman Empire was neither a forceful political

power nor the public embodiment of a well-defi ned national culture. The German world

had no tangible frontiers; the area of German speech simply faded out into Alsace or the

Austrian Netherlands, or into Poland, Bohemia, or the upper Balkans. “Germany” had not

yet taken on a coherent cultural or political existence. The upper classes, becoming con-

temptuous of much that was German, adopted French fashions, dress, etiquette, manners,

ideas, and language, regarding them as an international norm of civilized living. Frederick

the Great hired French tax collectors and wrote his own books in French.

The national

movement in

Germany

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433

About 1780 signs of a change set in. Even Frederick, in his later years, predicted a

golden age of German literature, proudly declaring that Germans could do what other

nations had done. In 1784 appeared a book by J. G. Herder called Ideas on the Philosophy of the History of Mankind. Herder was an earnest soul, a Protestant pastor and theologian who had once lived in Paris and found the French somewhat frivolous. He concluded that

imitation of foreign ways made people shallow and artifi cial. He declared

that German ways were indeed different from French but not for that reason

any less worthy of respect. All true culture or civilization, he held, must

arise from native roots. It must arise also from the life of the common peo-

ple, the Volk, not from the cosmopolitan and artifi cial life of the upper classes. Each group of people who shared the same language, Herder argued, also shared

their own distinctive attitudes, spirit, or genius. A sound civilization must express a national

character or Volksgeist. And the character of each people was special to itself. Herder did not believe the nations to be in confl ict; quite the contrary, he simply insisted that they were

different. He did not believe German culture to be the best; many other peoples, notably the

Slavs, would therefore fi nd his ideas applicable to their own nationalist needs. His philoso-

phy of history, however, was very different from that of Voltaire and the philosophes, who

had expected all people to progress along the same path of reason and enlightenment toward

a similar civilization. Herder thought that all peoples should develop their own genius in

their own way, each slowly unfolding with a kind of plantlike growth, avoiding sudden

change or distortion by outside infl uence, and all ultimately refl ecting, in their endless

diversity, the infi nite richness of humanity and of God.

Herder’s cultural

nationalism

Nationalism grew rapidly in all the European countries that resisted Napoleon’s expansionist military policies. This image of Britannia “blowing up the Corsican Bottle Con- jurer” expressed British national pride during this era. The bottle’s label says “British spirits, composed of True Lib- erty, Courage, Loyalty and Religion.” (Rare Book Collection, University of North Carolina)

50. The National Movements and New Nationalist Cultures

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Chapter 10 Napoleonic Europe434

The idea of the Volksgeist soon passed to other countries in the general movement of romantic thought. Like much else in romanticism, it emphasized genius or intuition rather

than reason. It stressed the differences rather than the similarity of mankind. It broke down

that sense of human similarity or universality that had been characteristic of the Age of

Enlightenment, and that revealed itself in French and American doctrines of the rights of

man, or again in the law codes of Napoleon. In the past it had been usually thought that

whatever was truly good was good for all peoples. Good poetry, for example, adhered to

certain classical principles or “rules” of composition, which were the same for all writers

from the Greeks on down. Now, according to Herder and to romantics in all countries,

good poetry was the poetry that expressed an inner genius, either an individual genius

or the unique genius of a people—there were no more rigid, classical “rules.” Good and

just laws, according to the older philosophy of natural law, somehow corresponded to a

standard of justice that was the same for all people. But now, according to Herder and the

romantic school of jurisprudence, good laws were those that refl ected local conditions or

national idiosyncrasies. Here again there were no “rules,” except possibly the rule that

each nation should follow its own cultural path.

Herder’s philosophy set forth a cultural nationalism, without a political message. The

Germans had long been a nonpolitical people. In the microscopic states of the Holy Roman

Empire they had had no signifi cant political questions to think about; in the more siz-

able ones they had been excluded from public affairs. The French Revolution made the

Germans acutely conscious of the state. It showed what a people could do with a powerful

state, once they took it over and used it for their own purposes. For one thing, the French

had raised themselves to the dignity of citizenship; they had become free individuals,

responsible for themselves, taking part in the affairs of their country. For another, because

they had a unifi ed state that included all French people, and one in which a whole nation

surged with a new sense of freedom, they were able to rise above all the other nations of

Europe. Many in Germany were beginning to feel humiliation at the paternalism of their

governments. The futilities of the Holy Roman Empire, which had made Germany for

centuries the battlefi eld of Europe, now fi lled them with shame and indignation. They saw

with disgust how their German princes, forever squabbling with each other for control

over German subjects, disgraced themselves before the French to promote their own inter-

ests. The national awakening in Germany, which set in strongly after 1800, was therefore

directed not only against Napoleon and the French but also against the German rulers and

many of the half-Frenchifi ed German upper classes. It was democratic in that it stressed

the superior virtue of the common people.

Germans became fascinated by the idea of political and national greatness, precisely

because they had neither. A great national German state, expressing the deep moral will

and distinctive culture of the German people, seemed to offer a solution to all their prob-

lems. It would give moral dignity to the individual German, solve the vexatious question

of the selfi sh petty princes, protect the deep German Volksgeist from violation, and secure the Germans from subjection to outside powers. The nationalist philosophy remained

somewhat vague, because in practice there was little that one could do. “Father” Jahn

organized a kind of youth movement, had his young men do calisthenics for the Father-

land and led them on open-air expeditions into the country, where they made fun of aris-

tocrats in French costume. He taught them to be suspicious of foreigners, Jews, and

internationalists, and indeed of everything that might corrupt the purity of the German

Volk. Most Germans thought him too extreme. Others collected wonderful stories of the rich medieval German past. There was an anonymous anti-French work, Germany in Its

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435

Deep Humiliation, for selling which the publisher Palm was put to death. Others founded the Moral and Scientifi c Union, generally known as the Tugendbund or league of virtue or manliness, whose members, by developing their own moral character, were to contribute

to the future of Germany.

The career of J. G. Fichte illustrates the course of German thought in

these years. Fichte was a moral and metaphysical philosopher, a professor

at the University of Jena. His doctrine that the inner spirit of the individ-

ual creates its own moral universe was much admired in many countries.

In America, for example, it entered into the transcendental philosophy of

Ralph Waldo Emerson. During his early philosophical career, Fichte expressed little inter-

est in a specifi c national feeling. He enthusiastically approved of the French Revolution, as

did many other German intellectuals at the time. In 1793, with the Revolution at its height,

Fichte published a laudatory tract on the French Republic. He saw it as an emancipation

of the human spirit, a step upward in the elevation of human dignity and moral stature. He

accepted the idea of the Terror, that of “forcing men to be free,” and he shared Rousseau’s

conception of the state as the embodiment of the sovereign will of a people. He came to

see the state as the means of human salvation. In 1800, in his Closed Commercial State, he sketched a kind of totalitarian system in which the state planned and operated the whole

economy of the country, shutting itself off from the rest of the world in order that, at home,

it might freely develop the character of its own citizens. When the French conquered

Germany Fichte became intensely and self-consciously German. He took over the idea

of the Volksgeist: not only did the individual spirit create its own moral universe, but the spirit of a people created a kind of moral universe as well, manifested in its language,

history, arts, folk-ways, customs, institutions, and ideas.

At Berlin, in 1808, Fichte delivered a series of Addresses to the German Nation, declar- ing that there was an ineradicable German spirit, a primordial and immutable national char-

acter, more noble than that of other peoples (thus going beyond Herder), to be kept pure at all

costs from all outside infl uence, either international or French. The German spirit, he held,

had always been profoundly different from that of France and western Europe. Germany

had never yet really achieved the national or international stature that such a noble, creative

people should attain, but Fichte confi dently affi rmed that the Germans would eventually play

a great role in world history. The French army commander then occupying the city thought

the lectures too academic to be worth suppression. They attracted only small audiences; but

his published lectures provided an enduring philosophical argument for German national-

ism, and many Germans later regarded him as a national hero.

Reforms in Prussia

Politically, the revolt against the French led to major transformations in Prussia and the

Prussian state. After the death of Frederick the Great in 1786 Prussia had fallen into a

period of satisfi ed inertia, such as is likely to follow upon rapid growth or spectacular suc-

cess. Then in 1806, at Jena-Auerstädt, the kingdom collapsed in a single battle. Its western

and most of its Polish territories were taken away. It was relegated by Napoleon to its old

holdings east of the Elbe River. Even here the French remained in occupation, for Napoleon

stationed his Ninth Corps in Berlin. But in the eyes of German nationalists Prussia had a

moral advantage. Of all the German states it was the least compromised by collaboration

with the French. Toward Prussia, as toward a haven, German patriots therefore made their

way. Prussia, east of the Elbe, formerly the least German of German lands, became the

Fichte and the

German national

spirit

50. The National Movements and New Nationalist Cultures

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Chapter 10 Napoleonic Europe436

center of an all-German movement for national freedom. The years after Jena contributed to

the “Prussianizing” of Germany; but it is to be observed that neither Fichte nor Hegel,

Gneisenau nor Scharnhorst, Stein nor Hardenberg, all of whom contributed

to the rebuilding of Prussia and to a deepening German identity within

Prussia, was a native Prussian.

The main problem for Prussia was military, because Napoleon could

be overthrown only by military force. And as always in Prussia, the require-

ments of the army strongly infl uenced the evolution of the state. The problem was con-

ceived to be one of morale and personnel. The old Prussia of Frederick, which had fallen

ingloriously, had been mechanical, arbitrary, soulless. Its people had lacked the sense of

membership in the state, and in the army its soldiers had held no hope of promotion and

felt no patriotic spirit. To produce this spirit was the aim of the army reformers Scharnhorst

and Gneisenau. Gneisenau, a Saxon, had served in one of the British “Hessian” regiments

in the War of American Independence, during which he had observed the military value

of patriotic feeling in the American soldiers. He was also a close observer of the conse-

quences of the French Revolution, which, he said, had “set in action the national energy of

the entire French people, putting the different classes on an equal social and fi scal basis.”

If Prussia was to strengthen itself against France, or indeed to avoid a future revolution

within Prussia itself, it must fi nd a means to inspire similar feelings of participation among

its own people and to allow capable individuals to fi ll important positions in the army and

government without regard to their social status.

The reconstruction of the state, prerequisite to the reconstruction of the army, was

initiated by Baron Stein and continued by his successor, Hardenberg. Like Metternich,

Stein came from western Germany, and he was long hostile to what he considered a

The reform movement

in Prussia

CHRONOLOGY OF NOTABLE EVENTS, 1799–1815

1799–1801 Second Coalition (Austria, Russia, Britain) wages war with France

1803 Napoleon’s army is defeated in Haiti and France sells Louisiana to the United

States

1805–1807 Third Coalition (Austria, Russia, Britain) wages war with France

1806 Napoleon defeats Prussian armies and occupies Berlin

1806–1825 Latin American countries pursue successful campaigns for national

independence from Spain and Portugal

1807 Treaty of Tilsit creates French-Russian alliance; Napoleon proclaims

“Continental System” to exclude trade with Britain

1808–1814 Peninsular War leads to French defeats in Spain

1810 Napoleon marries Marie Louise, daughter of Austrian Emperor

1812 Napoleon’s “Grand Army” invades Russia and is destroyed in winter retreat

1813 French army loses decisive battle of Leipzig in Germany

1814 Abdication of Napoleon and restoration of Bourbon Monarchy in France

1814–1815 Congress of Vienna reorganizes the political order in Europe

1815 Napoleon returns to power for “100 Days”; fi nal defeat at the battle of Waterloo

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43751. The Overthrow of Napoleon: The Congress of Vienna

barely civilized Prussia, but he fi nally turned to the Prussian state as the best hope to lead

Germany as a whole into the future. Deeply committed to the philosophy of Kant and

Fichte, he emphasized the concepts of duty, service, moral character, and responsibility.

He thought that the common people must be awakened to moral life and raised from a bru-

talized servility to the level of self-determination and membership in the community. This,

he believed, required an equality more of duties than of rights.

Under Stein the old caste structure of Prussia became somewhat less rigid. Property

became interchangeable between social classes, and soldiers of all classes could now serve

as offi cers in the army. The burghers, to develop a sense of citizenship and participation

in the state, were given extensive freedom of self-government in the cities; the municipal

systems of Prussia, and later of Germany, became a model for much of Europe in the

following century.

Stein’s most famous work was the “abolition of serfdom.” It was naturally impos-

sible, because the whole reform program was aimed at strengthening Prussia for a war of

liberation against the French, to antagonize the Junkers who commanded the army. Stein’s

ordinance of 1807 abolished only the “hereditary subjection” of peasants to their manorial

lords. It gave peasants the right to move and migrate, marry, and take up trades without

the lord’s approval. If, however, they remained on the land, they were still subject to all

the old services of forced labor in the fi elds of the lord. Peasants who held small plots of

land as “tenures” from their lords continued to be liable for the old dues and fees. By an

edict of 1810, they might convert this traditional tenure into their own private property,

getting rid of the manorial obligations, but only on the condition that one-third of the land

held should become the private property of the lord. In the following decades many such

conversions took place; as a result, the estates of the Junkers grew considerably larger.

The reforms in Prussia gave new legal status and freedom of movement to the mass of

the population, thus laying the foundation for a modern state and modern economy. The

peasants tended to become mere hired agricultural laborers, however, and the social posi-

tion of the Junkers was heightened, not reduced; but Prussia avoided a political revolution.

Stein himself, because Napoleon feared him, was obliged to go into exile in 1808, but his

reforms endured.

51. THE OVERTHROW OF NAPOLEON: THE CONGRESS OF VIENNA

The situation at the close of 1811 may be summarized as follows. Napoleon

had the mainland of Europe in his grip. Russia and Turkey were at war on

the Danube, but otherwise there was no war except in Spain, where four

years of fi ghting had blocked the consolidation of French control. The Continental System

was working badly. Britain was hurt by it only in that, without it, British exports to Europe

would have risen rapidly in these years. Well launched in the economic growth of the

Industrial Revolution, Britain was amassing a vast store of national wealth that could

be used to assist European governments fi nancially against Napoleon. The peoples of

Europe were growing restless, dreaming increasingly of national freedom. In Germany

especially, many were looking for an opportunity to rise in a war of independence. But

Napoleon could be overthrown only by the destruction of his army, over which neither

British wealth nor British sea power, nor the European patriots and nationalists, nor the

Prussian nor the Austrian armed forces were able to prevail. All eyes turned to Russia.

Alexander I had long been dissatisfi ed with his French alliance. He had obtained from it

Europe in 1811

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Chapter 10 Napoleonic Europe438

nothing but the annexation of Finland in 1809. He received no assistance from France in

his war with Ottoman Turkey; and he had to tolerate the existence of a French-oriented

Poland at his very door. The articulate classes in Russia, namely, the landowners and serf

owners, denounced the French alliance and demanded a resumption of open trade relations

with England. An international clientele of émigrés and anti-Bonapartists, including Baron

Stein, also gradually congregated at St. Petersburg, where they poured into the tsar’s ears

the welcome message that Europe looked to him for its salvation.

The Russian Campaign and the War of Liberation

On December 31, 1810, Russia formally withdrew from the Continental System. Anglo-

Russian commercial relations were resumed. Napoleon resolved to crush the tsar. He con-

centrated the Grand Army in eastern Germany and Poland, a vast force of 700,000 men,

the largest European army ever assembled up to that time for a single military operation. It

was an all-European host. Hardly more than a third was French; another third was German,

from German regions annexed to France, from the states of the Confederation of the Rhine,

and with token forces from Prussia and Austria; and the remaining third was drawn from all

other nationalities of the Grand Empire, including 90,000 Poles. Napoleon at fi rst hoped to

meet the Russians in Poland or Prussia. This time, however, they decided to fi ght on their

own ground, and they needed in any case to delay until their forces on the lower Danube

could be recalled. In June 1812 Napoleon led the Grand Army into Russia.

He intended a short, sharp war, such as most of his wars had been in the past, and

carried with him only three weeks’ supplies. But from the beginning everything went wrong.

It was Napoleon’s principle to force a decisive battle; but the Russian army kept withdraw-

ing toward the east. It was his principle to live on the country, so as to reduce the need for

supply trains; but the Russians destroyed as they retreated, and in any case, in Russia, even

in the summer, it was hard to fi nd sustenance for so many men and horses. Finally, not far

from Moscow, Napoleon was able to join battle with the main Russian force at Borodino.

Here again everything miscarried. It was his principle always to outnumber the enemy at the

decisive spot, but the Grand Army had left so many detachments along its line of march that

at Borodino the Russians outnumbered it. It was Napoleon’s principle to concentrate his

artillery, but here he scattered it instead. His principle was to throw in his last reserves at the

critical moment, but at Borodino, so far from home, he refused the risk of ordering the Old

Guard into action. Napoleon won the battle, at a cost of 30,000 men, as against 50,000 lost

by the Russians; but the Russian army was able to withdraw in good order.

On September 14, 1812, the French emperor entered Moscow. Almost immediately

the city broke into fl ames. Napoleon found himself camping in a ruin, with troops strewn

along a vulnerable line all the way back to Poland, and with a hostile army maneuvering

near at hand. Baffl ed, he tried to negotiate with Alexander, who refused all overtures.

After fi ve weeks, not knowing what to do and fearful of remaining isolated

in Moscow over the winter, Napoleon ordered a retreat. Prevented by the

Russians from taking a more southerly route, the Grand Army retired by

the same way it had come, but it could no longer live off the land. The

cold weather set in early and was unusually severe. For a century after

1812 the retreat from Moscow remained the last word in military horror. Men froze and

starved, horses slipped and died, vehicles could not be moved, and equipment was aban-

doned. Discipline broke down toward the end; the army dissolved into a horde of starv-

ing, disoriented fugitives, speaking a babel of languages, harassed by bands of Russian

The retreat from

Moscow

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439

irregulars, picking their way on foot over ice and snow, most of the time in the dark,

for the nights are long in these latitudes in December. Of 611,000 who entered Russia

400,000 died of battle wounds, starvation, and exposure, and 100,000 were taken pris-

oner. The Grand Army no longer existed.

Now at last all the anti-Napoleon forces rushed together. The Russians pushed west-

ward into central Europe. The Prussian and Austrian governments, which in 1812 had half-

heartedly supplied troops for the invasion of Russia, switched over in 1813 and joined the

tsar. Throughout Germany, the patriots, often half-trained boys, marched off in the War of

Liberation, though it was the professional armies of the German states that made the differ-

ence. In Spain Wellington at last pushed rapidly forward; in June 1813 he crossed the

Pyrenees into France. The British government, in three years from 1813 to 1815, poured

£32,000,000 as subsidies into Europe, more than half of all the funds granted during the

22 years of the wars. An incongruous alliance of British capitalism and eastern European

agrarian feudalism, of the British navy and the Russian army, of Spanish clericalism and

German nationalism, of divine-right monarchies and newly aroused democrats and liberals,

combined at last to bring the Man of Destiny to the ground.

Napoleon, who had left his army in Russia in December 1812 and rushed across

Europe to Paris by sleigh and coach in the remarkable time of 13 days, raised a new army

in France in the early months of 1813. But it was untrained and unsteady, and he himself

had lost some of his genius for command. His new army was smashed in October at the

battle of Leipzig, known to the Germans as the Battle of the Nations, the

greatest battle in number of men engaged ever fought until the twentieth

century. The allies drove Napoleon back upon France. But the closer they

came to defeating him the more they began to fear and distrust each other.

The Restoration of the Bourbons

The coalition already showed signs of splitting. Should the allies, together or singly, nego-

tiate with Napoleon? How strong should the France of the future be? What should be its

new frontiers? What form of government should it have? There was no agreement on these

questions. Alexander wanted to dethrone Napoleon and dictate peace in Paris, in dramatic

retribution for the destruction of Moscow. He had a scheme for giving the French throne to

Bernadotte, a former French marshal, now crown prince of Sweden, who as king of France

would depend on Russian support. Metternich preferred to keep Napoleon or his son as

French emperor, after clearing the French out of central Europe; for a Bonaparte dynasty

in a reduced France would be dependent on Austria. The British, with an eye on one of

their main strategic concerns, declared that the French must get out of Belgium and that

Napoleon must go; they held that the French might then choose their own government but

believed a restoration of the Bourbons to be the best solution. The Continental monarchies

in Austria, Prussia, and Russia had no concern for the Bourbons, and both Alexander and

Metternich, if they could make France dependent respectively on themselves, were willing

to see it remain strong even to the extent of including Belgium.

The British foreign minister, Viscount Castlereagh, arrived on the Continent for consul-

tations in January 1814. He held a number of strong cards. For one thing, Napoleon contin-

ued to fi ght, and the allies therefore continued to ask for British fi nancial aid. Castlereagh

skillfully used the promise of British subsidies to win acceptance of the British war aims,

which included France’s expulsion from Belgium. In addition, he found a common ground

for agreement with Metternich, both Britain and Austria fearing the domination of Europe

The “Battle of the

Nations”

51. The Overthrow of Napoleon: The Congress of Vienna

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Chapter 10 Napoleonic Europe440

by Russia. Castlereagh’s fi rst great problem was to hold the alliance together, for without

Continental allies the British could not defeat France. He succeeded, on March 9, 1814, in

getting Russia, Prussia, Austria, and Great Britain to sign the treaty of Chaumont. Each

power bound itself for 20 years to a Quadruple Alliance against France, and

each agreed to provide 150,000 soldiers to enforce such peace terms as might

be arrived at. For the fi rst time since 1792 a solid coalition of the four great

powers now existed against France. Three weeks later the allies entered

Paris, and on April 4 Napoleon abdicated at Fontainebleau.

He was forced to this step by lack of support in France itself. Twenty

years before, in 1793 and 1794, France had fought off the combined powers of Europe—

minus Russia. It could not and would not do so in 1814. The country cried for peace. Even

the imperial marshals advised the emperor’s abdication. But what was to follow him? For

25 years the French had lived under one revolutionary or activist regime after another.

The Quadruple

Alliance

The French army’s retreat from Russia in 1812 shattered Napoleon’s image of military invin- cibility and brought the anti-Napoleonic forces together for a decisive victory in the following year. This French painting portrays the misery that gave the retreat of 1812 its lasting reputa- tion for military horror. (Alinari/Art Resource, NY)

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441

Now they were divided. Some wanted a republic; others wished to retain the empire under

Napoleon’s infant son; still others desired a constitutional monarchy; and there were even

those who longed for the old regime. Talleyrand stepped into the breach. The “legitimate”

king, he said, Louis XVIII, was the man who would provoke the least factionalism and

opposition. The monarchical powers, likewise, had by this time concluded in favor of the

Bourbons. A Bourbon king would be peaceable, under no impulse to win back the con-

quests of the republic and empire. He would also, as the native and rightful king of France,

need no foreign support to bolster him, so that the control of France would not arise as an

issue to divide the victorious powers.

The Bourbon dynasty was thus restored. Louis XVIII, ignored and

disregarded for a whole generation, both by most people in France and by

the governments of Europe, returned to the throne of his brother and his

fathers. He issued a “constitutional charter,” partly at the insistence of the

liberal tsar and partly because, having actually learned from his long exile, he sought the

support of infl uential people in France. The charter of 1814 made no concession to the

principle of popular or national sovereignty. It was represented as the gracious gift of a

theoretically absolute king. But in practice it granted what most of the French wanted.

It promised legal equality, eligibility of all to public offi ce without regard to class, and a

parliamentary government in two chambers. It recognized the Napoleonic law codes, the

Napoleonic settlement with the church, and the redistribution of property effected during

the Revolution. It carried over the abolition of all feudal privileges and manorial rights.

It confi ned the vote, to be sure, to a very few large landowners; but for the time being,

except for a few irreconcilables, France settled down to enjoy the blessings of a chastened

revolution—and peace.

The Settlement before the Vienna Congress

It was with the government of the restored Bourbons that the powers, on May 30, 1814,

signed a treaty. This document, the “fi rst” Treaty of Paris, confi ned France to its prewar

boundaries of 1792. The allied statesmen disregarded popular cries for vengeance and

punishment, imposed no indemnity or reparations, and even allowed the works of art gath-

ered from Europe during the wars to remain in Paris. It was not the desire of the victors to

handicap the restored French monarchy on which they now placed their hopes. Napoleon

meanwhile was exiled to the island of Elba on the Italian coast.

To deal with other questions, the powers had agreed, before signing the Alliance of

Chaumont, to hold an international congress at Vienna after defeating Napoleon. The reces-

sion of the French fl ood left the future of much of Europe fl uid and uncertain. Both Russia

and Great Britain, however, before consenting to a general conference, specifi ed certain

matters that they would decide for themselves as not susceptible to international consider-

ation. The Russians refused to discuss Turkey and the Balkans; they retained Bessarabia

as the prize of their recent war with the Turks. They also kept Finland, as an autonomous

constitutional grand duchy, as well as certain conquests in the Caucasus almost unknown

to Europe, namely Georgia and Azerbaijan. The British refused any discussion of the free-

dom of the seas and also barred all questions about colonial and overseas territories. The

British government simply announced which of its colonial and insular conquests it would

keep and which it would return. The revolts in Latin America were left to run their course.

In Europe, the British remained in possession of Malta, the Ionian Islands, and the

island of Heligoland in the North Sea; in America, they kept St. Lucia, Trinidad, and

The Bourbons

restored

51. The Overthrow of Napoleon: The Congress of Vienna

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Chapter 10 Napoleonic Europe442

Tobago in the West Indies. Of former French possessions, the British kept the island of

Mauritius in the Indian Ocean. Of former Dutch territories, they kept the Cape of Good

Hope and Ceylon, but returned the Netherlands Indies. During the Revolutionary and

Napoleonic wars in Europe the British had also made extensive conquests

in India, bringing much of the Deccan and the upper Ganges Valley under

their rule. The British emerged, in 1814, as the controlling European power

in both India and the Indian Ocean.

Indeed, of all the colonial empires founded by Europeans in the sixteenth and seven-

teenth centuries, only the British now remained as a growing and dynamic system. The old

French, Spanish, and Portuguese empires were struggling against revolutionary movements

and declining to much-reduced political and territorial versions of their former selves; the

Dutch still held vast establishments in the East Indies, but all the intermediate positions—

the Cape, Ceylon, Mauritius, Singapore—would soon be controlled by Britain. Nor, after

1814, did any people except the British have a signifi cant navy. With Napoleon and the

Continental System defeated, with the Industrial Revolution bringing power machinery to

the manufacturers of England, with no rival left in the contest for overseas dominion, and

with a virtual monopoly of naval power, whose use they studiously kept free from interna-

tional regulation, the British embarked on their century of world leadership, which may be

said to have lasted from 1814 to 1914.

The Congress of Vienna, 1814–1815

The Congress of Vienna assembled in September 1814. Never had such a brilliant gather-

ing been seen. All the states of Europe sent representatives; and many defunct states, such

as the formerly sovereign princes and ecclesiastics of the late Holy Roman Empire, sent

lobbyists to urge their restoration. But procedure was so arranged that all important mat-

ters were decided by the four triumphant Great Powers. Indeed it was at the Congress of

Vienna that the terms “great” and “small” powers entered clearly into the diplomatic

vocabulary. Europe was at peace, a treaty having been signed with the late enemy, but

France was represented at the Congress, by none other than Talleyrand, now minister to

Louis XVIII. Castlereagh, Metternich, and Alexander spoke for their respective countries;

Prussia was represented by Hardenberg. Although they were all aristocrats of the Old

Regime, they by no means desired to restore the territorial boundaries of the era before the

wars. They did desire, as they put it, to restore the “liberties of Europe,” meaning the free-

dom of European states from domination by a single power; and it was hoped that a proper

balance of power would also produce a lasting peace.

The chief menace to peace, and most likely claimant for the domination

of Europe, naturally seemed to be the late troublemaker, France. The Con-

gress of Vienna, without much disagreement, erected a barrier of strong

states along the French eastern frontier. The historic Dutch Republic, extinct

since 1795, was revived as the kingdom of the Netherlands, with the house of Orange as a

hereditary monarchy; to it was added Belgium, the old Austrian Netherlands with which

Austria had long been willing to part. It was hoped that the combined Dutch-Belgian king-

dom would be strong enough to discourage the perennial French drive into the Low Coun-

tries. On the south, the kingdom of Sardinia (or Piedmont) was restored and strengthened by

the incorporation of Genoa. Behind the Netherlands and Piedmont, and further to discour-

age a renewal of French pressure upon Germany and Italy, two great powers were installed.

Almost all the German left bank of the Rhine was ceded to Prussia, which was to be, in

British supremacy

Containing France

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443

Castlereagh’s words, a kind of “bridge” spanning central Europe, a bulwark against both

France in the West and Russia in the East. In Italy, again as a kind of secondary barrier

against France, the Austrians were fi rmly installed. They not only took back Tuscany and

the Milanese, which they had held before 1796, but also annexed the extinct republic of

Venice. The Austrian Empire now included a Lombardo-Venetian kingdom in north Italy,

which lasted for almost half a century. In the rest of Italy the Congress recognized the resto-

ration of the pope in the papal states and of former rulers in the smaller duchies; but it did

not insist on a restoration of the Bourbons in the kingdom of Naples. There Napoleon’s

brother-in-law Murat, with support from Metternich, managed for a time to retain his throne.

The Bourbon and Braganza rulers restored themselves in Spain and Portugal, respectively,

and were recognized by the Congress as the reigning royal families in the Iberian states.

As for Germany, the Congress made no attempt to put together again

the Humpty Dumpty of the Holy Roman Empire. The French and Napo-

leonic reorganization of Germany was substantially confi rmed, and the

kings of Bavaria, Württemberg, and Saxony kept the royal crowns that

Napoleon had bestowed on them. The king of England, George III, was

now recognized as king, not “elector,” of Hanover. The German states, 39 in number,

including Prussia and Austria, were joined in a loose confederation in which the members

remained virtually sovereign. The Congress ignored the yearnings of German nationalists

Germany remains

divided

The Congress of Vienna combined complex diplomatic negotiations with the cultural elegance of traditional elites. This picture shows the social status of the diplomats who sought to estab- lish peace and order in Europe after 25 years of revolution and warfare. (Scala/Art Resource, NY)

51. The Overthrow of Napoleon: The Congress of Vienna

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Chapter 10 Napoleonic Europe444

for a great unifi ed Fatherland; Metternich especially feared nationalistic agitation; and in

any case the nationalists themselves had no practical answer to concrete questions, such

as the government and frontiers that a united Germany should have.

Finally, there was the question of Poland, which almost brought the Congress to disas-

ter. The fall of Napoleon’s Grand Duchy of Warsaw had given Alexander an opportunity to

reassert his long-held plan for undoing the crime of the Polish partitions and reconstituting

a Polish kingdom—with himself as the constitutional king. He sought to achieve this goal

by allowing Prussia to absorb the kingdom of Saxony, but both Metternich and Castlereagh

vehemently opposed this plan. The Austrians feared the expansion of their two main rivals

in central Europe, and the British had not fought the French emperor to help the Russian

tsar extend his power over other European peoples and territories. After prolonged negotia-

tions, the strategic interventions of Talleyrand, and the threat of a possible war among the

recent allies, the contending factions reached a compromise.

The Congress created a new, somewhat smaller Polish kingdom that

would be remembered in history simply as “Congress Poland.” Alexander

gave the new state a constitution and became its king, but this new king-

dom (which comprised roughly the same area as Napoleon’s Grand Duchy)

survived as a political entity for only 15 years. Prussia, for its part, received about two-

fi fths of Saxony, but the enduring addition of both Saxon and Rhineland territories brought

the Prussian monarchy into the most economically advanced regions of Germany and to

the borders of France. The net effect of the Napoleonic wars and the peace settlement

was thus to shift the center of gravity of both Russia and Prussia farther west (see maps,

pp. 214–215, 230–231).

The main political work of the Congress was completed with the agreements on

Poland and Saxony, but at this point the whole settlement was unexpectedly brought into

jeopardy by the reappearance of Napoleon.

The Hundred Days and Their Aftermath

Napoleon escaped from Elba, landed in France on March 1, 1815, and again proclaimed

the empire. In the year since the restoration of the Bourbon monarchy discontent had been

spreading in France. Louis XVIII proved to be a sensible man, but a swarm of unreasonable

and vindictive émigrés had come back with him. Reaction and a “white terror” were raging

through the country. Most adherents of the Revolution therefore rallied to the emperor on

his dramatic reappearance. Napoleon reached Paris, regained control over the government

and army, and soon led an army into Belgium. He would, if he could, disperse the pompous

assemblage at Vienna. To the victors of the year before, and to most of Europe, it seemed

that the Revolution was again stirring, that the old horror of toppling thrones and recurring

warfare might not after all be ended. The opposing forces met in Belgium at Waterloo,

where the Duke of Wellington, commanding an allied force, won a great victory. Napoleon

again abdicated and was again exiled, this time to distant St. Helena in the south Atlan-

tic. A new peace treaty was made with France, the “second” Treaty of Paris. It was more

severe than the fi rst, because the French seemed to have shown themselves incorrigible

and unrepentant. The new treaty imposed minor changes on the frontiers, forced the French

to pay an indemnity of 700,000,000 francs over fi ve years, and placed a French-fi nanced

European army of occupation in northeastern France.

The effect of the Hundred Days, as the episode following Napoleon’s return from

Elba is called, was to renew the dread of revolution, war, and aggression. Britain, Russia,

Congress Poland

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445

Austria, and Prussia, after being almost at war with each other over Poland and Saxony in

January, again joined forces to get rid of the apparition from Elba, and in November 1815

they solemnly reconfi rmed the Quadruple Alliance of Chaumont, adding a provision that

no Bonaparte should ever govern France. They agreed also to hold future congresses to

review the political situation and enforce the peace. No change was made in the arrange-

ments agreed to at Vienna, except that Murat, who fought for Napoleon during the Hun-

dred Days, was captured and shot, and an extremely unenlightened

Bourbon monarchy was restored in Naples. In addition to the Quadruple

Alliance of the Great Powers, bound specifi cally to enforce or amend the

terms of the peace treaty by international action, Alexander devised a

vaguer scheme that he called the Holy Alliance. The tsar proposed that all

European monarchs sign a statement by which they promised to uphold Christian princi-

ples of charity and peace. All signed except the pope, the sultan of the Ottoman Empire,

and the prince regent of Great Britain. The Holy Alliance, probably sincerely meant by

Alexander as a condemnation of violence, and at fi rst not taken seriously by the others

who signed it and who thought it absurd to mix Christianity with politics, soon came to

signify, in the minds of liberals, a kind of unholy alliance of monarchies against liberty

and progress.

The Peace of Vienna, including generally the Treaty of Vienna itself,

the treaties of Paris, and the British and colonial settlement, was the most

far-reaching diplomatic agreement between the Peace of Westphalia of

1648 and the Peace of Paris, which closed the First World War in 1919. It had its strong

points and its weak ones. It produced a minimum of resentment in France, where most

people were willing to accept the new arrangements. It ended almost two centuries of

European confl icts over the control of colonial territories in Asia and the Americas; for

60 or 70 years no colonial empire seriously challenged the British. Two other causes

of friction in the eighteenth century—the control of Poland and the Austro-Prussian

dualism in Germany—were smoothed over for 50 years. With past issues the peace of

1815 dealt rather effectively; with future issues, not unnaturally, it was less successful.

The Vienna treaty was not illiberal in its day; it was by no means entirely reaction-

ary, for the Congress showed little desire to restore the state of affairs in existence

before the wars. The reaction that gathered strength after 1815 was not written into

the treaty itself.

But the treaty gave no satisfaction to nationalists and democrats. It was a disap-

pointment even to many liberals, especially in Germany. The transfer of peoples from

government to government without consultation of their wishes opened the way under

nineteenth-century conditions to a good deal of subsequent trouble. The peacemakers were

in fact hostile both to nationalism and to democracy, the potent forces of the coming age;

they regarded them, with reason, as leading to revolution and war. The problem to which

they addressed themselves was to restore a more traditional balance of power, the “liberties

of Europe,” and to make a lasting peace. In this they were successful. They restored the

European state system, a system in which a number of sovereign and independent states

existed without fear of conquest or domination. And the peace they made, though some

details broke down in 1830 and others in 1848, on the whole subsisted for half a century;

and not for a full century, not until 1914, was there a war in Europe that lasted longer than

a few months or in which all the great powers were again involved.

The Peace of Vienna thus brought to a close the great political and military upheavals

that had spread across Europe in the wake of the French Revolution. Yet even the most

Alliances against

Napoleon

The Peace of Vienna

51. The Overthrow of Napoleon: The Congress of Vienna

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Chapter 10 Napoleonic Europe446

N o r t h S e a

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TUNISIA (Turkish)

TRIPOLI TRIPOLI

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447

conservative diplomats at Vienna recognized that the revolutionary events

and legacy would not simply vanish from European culture or history;

indeed the Holy Alliance and the vigilance of the conservative European

states after 1815 showed how deeply the French Revolution had affected all

of Europe and those places outside Europe where revolutionary ideas had become popular

and infl uential. The Latin American struggle for independence from Spain, for example,

continued to draw on the new conceptions of national sovereignty and continued to spread

across the New World while diplomats in Vienna were working to restore stability and

order in Europe.

The French Revolution and the Napoleonic Empire had demonstrated how a new,

more open system of social and professional advancement enabled a nation to exercise

power more effectively than any of the traditional, monarchical states. The revolutionary

regimes had introduced new methods for mobilizing national economic resources, military

forces, and large populations, all of which would reappear in the national mobilizations of

other modern states. The Revolution and Napoleon, in short, gave the modern world new

models of political organization and authoritarian rule. At the same time, however, the

famous revolutionary events also helped to spread new conceptions of human rights, polit-

ical participation, democratic government, and economic organization that would remain

powerful cultural ideals throughout Europe and much of the modern world; and the popu-

lar ideology of nationalism, which developed among both supporters and opponents of the

French Revolution and Napoleon, rapidly became one of the most pervasive political and

cultural forces in modern world history.

All of these ideas helped to produce and reshape the characteristic institutions of mod-

ern societies. They continued to attract fervent supporters after the Congress of Vienna and

after all other attempts to defend or revive the old order. The French Revolution and the

Napoleonic wars, for all their turmoil and terrible destructive violence, created a lasting

political and cultural legacy that has infl uenced modern nations almost everywhere, even

down to our own time in the twenty-fi rst century.

EUROPE, 1815 Boundaries show the political arrangements that emerged from the Congress of Vienna. France was reduced to the borders it had in 1789. Prussia was fi rmly installed on both banks of the Rhine, but South Germany remained as reorganized by Napoleon. Poland was again partitioned, with a larger share than in 1795 going to Russia—which also acquired Finland and Bessarabia. The Austrians added Venetia to what they had held before 1796. The union of the Dutch and Belgian Netherlands lasted only until 1831, when the kingdom of Belgium was established. Otherwise, the boundaries of 1815 lasted until the Italian war of 1859, which led to the unifi cation of Italy.

For suggested further readings and useful Web sites, interactive exercises, glossary, chronologies,

and more, go to the Online Learning Center at www.mhhe.com/palmerhistory11e.

Legacy of the

Revolution

51. The Overthrow of Napoleon: The Congress of Vienna

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449

C h a p t e r 11 INDUSTRIES, IDEAS,

AND THE STRUGGLE

FOR REFORM, 1815–1848

In the period  of some 30 years preceding 1815 two “revolutions” had been taking place. One was the

upheaval associated with the French Revolution and

the Napoleonic Empire. This revolution altered tra-

ditional social hierarchies and produced other social

changes, but its explicit goals focused mainly on

political reforms such as the reorganization of gov-

ernment, public power and authority, public fi nance,

taxation, administration, law, individual rights, and

the legal position of social classes. The other revolu-

tion, a revolution in a more metaphorical sense, was

primarily economic, having to do with the produc-

tion of wealth, the techniques of manufacture, the

exploitation of natural resources, the development of

new technologies, the formation of capital, and the

distribution of products to consumers. The political

and the economic revolutions in these years went on

somewhat independently of each other. Until 1815 the political revolution affected mainly

the Continent, while the economic revolution was most active in England. The Continent,

while evolving politically, remained economically less advanced than England, which was

transforming itself economically even as it remained conservative in other respects. Hence

it has been possible to deal with the political signifi cance of the French Revolution and its

Napoleonic sequel without much discussion of the Industrial Revolution, as the economic

changes then occurring in England are always called.

It may be (the matter is arguable) that the Industrial Revolution was more impor-

tant than the French Revolution or any other change in the social and political history

of human societies. In a telescopic view of world history the two biggest changes expe-

rienced by the human race in the past 10,000 years may have been the agricultural or

Neolithic revolution, which, beginning about 8000 b.c.e., ushered in the fi rst civiliza-

tions, and the Industrial Revolution, which ushered in the modern global civilization of the

52. The Industrial Revolution

in Britain

53. The Advent of the “Isms”

54. The Leaking Dam and the

Flood: Domestic

55. The Leaking Dam and the

Flood: International

56. The Breakthrough of

Liberalism in the West:

Revolutions of 1830–1832

57. Triumph of the West

European Bourgeoisie

Chapter emblem: Detail from an engraving, Young Saint-Simonienne (1832), by Malreuve. (Bibliothèque Nationale de France)

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Chapter 11 Industries, Ideas, and the Struggle for Reform, 1815–1848450

last two centuries. However that may be, it proves on closer examination

that the economic and the political, the Industrial Revolution (or industri-

alization) and the other institutions of a society, cannot be kept apart in

the historical study of modern times. The Industrial Revolution occurred

fi rst in England, becoming evident by about 1780, because of certain political character-

istics of English society, because earlier commercial and naval successes had expanded

England’s access to world markets, and because English social life offered rewards to the

individual for new forms of risk-taking and innovation. Nor can the effects of political and

economic revolution, in England or elsewhere, be kept apart for the years after 1815.

With the defeat of Napoleon and signing of the peace treaty at Vienna in 1815, it

seemed that the French Revolution was at last over. European conservatism had triumphed;

because it restored European monarchies and frankly opposed the new “French ideas,” it

can appropriately be called “reaction.” But the processes of industrialization, as they accel-

erated in England and spread to the Continent, worked against the politically conservative

settlement. Industrialization greatly enlarged both the business and wage-earning classes,

and made it harder for monarchs and landed aristocrats to maintain their control over public

power. Industrial development in the nineteenth century was often called “progress,” and

economic progress led to a steady growth of the social groups that would challenge and

overturn the political reaction.

Industrial society arose in England, western Europe, and the United States in the

nineteenth century, within the system known as capitalism. In the twentieth century,

after the Russian Revolution in 1917, industrial societies were created in

which capitalism was vehemently rejected. Industrialism and capitalism

are therefore by no means the same. Yet all industrial societies use capital,

which is defi ned as wealth that is not consumed but is used to produce

more wealth, or future wealth. An automobile is a consumer’s good; the

automobile factory is the capital. What distinguishes a capitalist from a noncapitalist

society is not the existence of capital but the ways in which the capital is controlled.

The distinctions sometimes become blurred because modern states have played an active

role in most spheres of economic activity and because many privately owned economic

enterprises have developed through government protection, support, or expenditures. But

the systemic differences in the social and political control of capital have always carried

wide-ranging consequences, and they have shaped many of the key divergences in mod-

ern European societies. In one form of society the control of capital is through private

ownership, or institutions of private property, by which capital is owned by individuals,

families, or corporations that are in turn owned by shareholders—in any case not by the

state. In such societies, though ownership may be widespread, most capital is controlled

by relatively few people, responding to market forces. In the other form of society pro-

ductive capital in principle belongs to the public and is in effect owned and controlled by

the state or its agencies; such societies usually call themselves socialist, because the fi rst

socialists rejected the principle of private ownership of the means of production, that is,

of capital. In these societies the control of capital, or decisions on saving, investment,

and production, are also in the hands of relatively few under some form of government

management and plan.

In Europe the institutions of secure private property had developed gradually since the

Middle Ages, and much that happened in the French Revolution was designed to protect

property from the demands of the state. Possession of property was viewed as the basis of

personal independence and political liberty, and the expectation of keeping future profi ts

Industrialism and

capitalism

Political and

economic factors

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45152. The Industrial Revolution in Britain

inspired, in some, a willingness to commit their capital to new and uncertain ventures. It

made possible an entrepreneurial spirit. There had been a commercial capitalism in Europe

at least since the sixteenth century. Industrialization in western Europe therefore devel-

oped through capitalist institutions. Countries outside the western European orbit, and

industrializing later, faced a different problem. Those countries in which little capital had

accumulated from the trade and agriculture of previous generations, and that had few own-

ers of capital or enterprising individuals, generally lacked the resources to industrialize

by European methods. Such countries also often lacked the various political, social, legal,

and organizational features that were as important as the economic in fostering industrial

development. When these countries set out somewhat later to achieve industrialization,

they frequently placed more of their economic planning, decision making, and fi nancial

management under direct state control.

In the short run, within a few years, the Industrial Revolution in western Europe

favored the liberal, modernizing principles and legal rights proclaimed in the French

Revolution. In the middle run, or in half a century, it made Europe overwhelmingly

more powerful than other parts of the world, leading to a worldwide European ascen-

dancy in the form of imperialism. In the still longer run, by the twentieth century, the

European empires provoked anticolonial and anti-European political movements that

challenged Europe’s global ascendancy by trying to industrialize in self-protection or

to improve the economic conditions of their own peoples or to catch up with the politi-

cal centralization of the modern European states. The leaders of such movements often

affi rmed their national and economic identities, in part, by denouncing the capitalism

of the European imperial powers. Among these later industrializing societies the Soviet

Union, until its dissolution in 1991, and the People’s Republic of China, from 1949

into the twenty-fi rst century, would become the most infl uential proponents of a state-

managed industrial revolution.

52. THE INDUSTRIAL REVOLUTION IN BRITAIN

On the whole, from the beginning of history until about 1800, the work of the world was

done with hand tools. Since then it has been increasingly done by machines. Before about

1800 power was supplied by human or animal muscle, reinforced by levers or pulleys,

and supplemented by the force of running water or moving air. Since then power has been

supplied by the human manipulation of forms of energy found in steam, electricity, the

combustion of gases, and most recently within the atom. The far-reaching transition from

hand tools to power machinery was the vast technological and economic process that is

called the Industrial Revolution. Its beginning cannot be dated exactly. It grew gradually

out of the technical practices of earlier times. It is still going on, for in some countries

industrialization has only recently begun, and even in the most highly developed coun-

tries it is always making advances. But the fi rst country to be profoundly affected by

industrialization was Great Britain, where its effects became manifest in the half-century

following 1780.

It seems likely, despite the emphasis placed on revolutionary upheavals by historians,

that people are habitually quite conservative. Working people do not put off their old way

of life, move to strange and overcrowded towns, or enter the deadly rounds of mine and

factory except under strong incentive. Well-to-do people, living in comfort on assured

incomes, do not readily risk their wealth in new and untried ventures. The shift to mod-

ern machine production has required in every country a certain mobility of people and of

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Chapter 11 Industries, Ideas, and the Struggle for Reform, 1815–1848452

wealth that was connected to other political, cultural, and economic transitions in early

modern societies; and the new social mobility in eighteenth-century England developed

from a long historical process of wider social change.

The Agricultural Revolution in Britain

The English Revolution of 1688, confi rming the ascendancy of Parliament over the king, meant

in economic terms the ascendancy of the more well-to-do property-owning classes. Among

these the landowners were by far the most important, though they counted the great London

merchants among their allies. For a century and a half, from 1688 to 1832, the British govern-

ment was substantially in the hands of these landowners—the “squirearchy” or “gentlemen

of England.” The result was a thorough transformation of English farming, an Agricultural

Revolution without which the Industrial Revolution could not have occurred.

Many landowners, seeking to increase their money incomes, began

experimenting with improved methods of cultivation and stock raising.

They made more use of fertilizers such as animal manure; they introduced

useful implements such as the horse-hoe and the new seed drill, which was

invented by Jethro Tull in the early eighteenth century; they brought in new crops, such as

turnips, and a more scientifi c system of crop rotation; they attempted to breed larger sheep

and fatter cattle. Landlords who wanted to introduce such changes needed and sought full

control over their land. They saw only a barrier to progress in the old village system of

open fi elds, common lands, and semicollective methods of cultivation. Agrarian improve-

ments also required an investment of capital, which was impossible so long as the soil was

tilled by numerous poor and custom-bound small farmers.

The old common rights of the villagers were part of the English common law. Only

an act of Parliament could modify or extinguish these traditional rights, but the great land-

owners who controlled Parliament were able to pass hundreds of “enclosure acts,” autho-

rizing the enclosure, by fences, walls, or hedges, of the old common lands

and unfenced open fi elds. Land thus came under a strict regime of private

ownership and individual management. At the same time small owners sold

out or were excluded in various ways, the more easily because the larger

owners had so much local authority as justices of the peace. Ownership of land in England,

more than anywhere else in central or western Europe, became concentrated in the hands

of a relatively small class of wealthy landlords, who leased it out in large blocks to a rela-

tively small class of substantial farmers. This development, though in progress throughout

the eighteenth century, reached its height during the Napoleonic wars.

One result was greatly to raise the productivity of land and of farm labor. Fatter cattle

yielded more meat; more assiduous cultivation yielded more cereals. The food supply of

England increased, while a smaller percentage of the population was needed to produce it.

Labor was thus released for other pursuits, so that many English country people became

wage earners, working for the farmers and landlords, or spinning or weaving in their cot-

tages for merchants in the towns. English working men and women were therefore already

dependent on daily wages long before the coming of the factory and the machine. Work-

ing people became mobile; they would go where the jobs were, or where the wages were

slightly higher. They also became available for new kinds of work because fewer of them

were needed on the land to produce food. Such conditions hardly existed except in Great

Britain. On the Continent agricultural methods were less productive, and the rural workers

were more established on the soil, whether by institutions of serfdom as in eastern Europe

or by the possession of property or fi rm leaseholds as in France.

Agricultural

experimentation

The enclosure acts

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453

Industrialism in Britain: Incentives and Inventions

Meanwhile, as the eighteenth-century Agricultural Revolution ran its course, the British

had conquered a colonial empire, staked out markets all over the Americas and Europe,

built up a huge mercantile marine, and won command of the sea. British merchants could

sell more, if only more could be produced. They had customers and ships, and they could

also obtain the capital with which to fi nance new ideas. The profi t motive prompted a con-

tinuing search for more rapid methods of production. The old English staple export, woolen

cloth, could be marketed indefi nitely if only more could be woven. The possibilities in cot-

ton cloth were enormous. The taste of Europeans for cottons had been already formed by

imports from Asia. Using hand methods, Europeans could not produce cotton cloth in com-

petition with the lower-cost Asian producers. But the market was endless if cotton could

be spun, woven, and printed with less labor, that is, by machines. Capital was available,

mobile, and fl uid because of the rise of banking, credit, and stock companies. Funds could

be shifted from one enterprise to another. Wealthy landowners and merchants could divert

some of their profi ts to industry. If an invention proved a total loss, as sometimes hap-

pened, or if it required years of development before producing any income, the investment

could still be afforded. Only a country already wealthy from commerce and agriculture

could have been the fi rst to initiate the machine age. England was such a country.

The construction of cotton mills led to a rapid increase in the production of textiles and brought large numbers of workers together in new cities. This illustration of an English cotton mill in the early 1830s shows the technology of industrialization and the women workers who moved from older cottage industries into the new factories. (Mary Evans Picture Library/The Image Works)

52. The Industrial Revolution in Britain

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Chapter 11 Industries, Ideas, and the Struggle for Reform, 1815–1848454

These economic conditions induced a series of successful inventions in

the textile industry. In 1733 a man named John Kay invented the fl y shuttle,

by which only one person instead of two was needed to weave cloth on a

loom. The resulting increase in the output of weaving set up a strong

demand for yarn. This was met in the 1760s by the invention of the spinning jenny, a kind

of mechanized spinning wheel that enabled workers to increase their production of yarn.

The new shuttles and jennies were fi rst operated by hand and used by domestic workers in

their homes. But in 1769 Richard Arkwright patented the water frame, a device for the

multiple spinning of many threads. At fi rst it was operated by water power, but in the 1780s

Arkwright introduced the steam engine to drive his spinning machinery. Requiring a con-

siderable installation of heavy equipment, he gathered his engines, frames, and workers

into large and usually dismal buildings, called mills by the English, or factories in subse-

quent American usage. Mechanical spinning now for a time overwhelmed the hand weav-

ers with yarn. This led to the development of the power loom, which became economically

practicable shortly after 1800. Weaving as well as spinning therefore took place increas-

ingly in factories. These improvements in the fi nishing process put a heavy strain on the

production of raw cotton. An ingenious Connecticut inventor, Eli Whitney, while employed

as a children’s tutor on a Georgia plantation in 1793, produced a cotton gin, which by

speeding up the removal of seeds greatly increased the output of cotton. The gin soon

spread through the American South, where the almost decaying plantation economy was

abruptly revived, creating a new demand for enslaved labor and becoming an adjunct to the

Industrial Revolution in England. British imports of raw cotton multiplied fi vefold in the

30 years following 1790. In value of manufactures, cotton cloth rose from ninth to fi rst

place among British industries in the same years. By 1820 it made up almost half of all

British exports.

The steam engine, applied to the cotton mills in the 1780s, had for a

century been going through a development of its own. Scientifi c and techni-

cal experiments with steam pressures had been fairly common in the seven-

teenth century, but what gave the economic impetus to invention was the

gradual dwindling of Europe’s primeval stocks of timber. The wood shortage became

acute in England about 1700, so that it was more diffi cult to obtain the charcoal needed in

smelting iron, and smelters turned increasingly to coal. Deeper coal shafts could not be

sunk until someone devised better methods of pumping out water. About 1702 Thomas

Newcomen built the fi rst economically signifi cant steam engine, which was soon widely

used to drive pumps in the coal mines. However, it consumed so much fuel in proportion

to power delivered that it could generally be used only in the coal fi elds themselves. In

1763 James Watt, a technician at the University of Glasgow, began to make improvements

on Newcomen’s engine. He formed a business partnership with Matthew Boulton, who

was originally a manufacturer of toys, buttons, and shoe buckles. Boulton provided the

funds to fi nance Watt’s rather costly experiments, handmade equipment, and slowly ger-

minating ideas. Their partnership exemplifi ed the evolving connections between inventors

and wealthy investors; and by the 1780s the fi rm of Boulton and Watt was eminently suc-

cessful, manufacturing steam engines both for British use and for the export trade.

Soon after 1800 the steam engine was successfully used to propel river boats, notably

in New York on the Hudson River in 1807, by Robert Fulton, who employed an imported

Boulton and Watt engine. Experiments with steam power for land transportation began

at the same time. Just as Newcomen’s engine had been put to practical uses in the coal

fi elds of England a century before, so now it was in the coal fi elds that Watt’s engine fi rst

The steam engine

Inventions in the

textile industry

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455

became a locomotive. Well before 1800 the mines had taken to using rail-

ways, on which wagons with fl anged wheels, drawn by horses, carried coal

to canals or to the sea. In the 1820s steam engines were successfully placed

on moving vehicles. The fi rst fully satisfactory locomotive was George Stephenson’s

Rocket, which in 1829, on the newly built Liverpool and Manchester Railway, not only reached an impressive speed of 16 miles per hour but met more important safety tests as

well. By the 1840s the era of railroad construction was under way in both Europe and the

United States.

The Industrial Revolution in Great Britain in its early phase, down to 1830 or 1840,

took place principally in the manufacture of textiles, with accompanying developments

in the exploitation of iron and coal. The early factories were mostly textile factories, and

indeed mainly cotton mills; for cotton was an entirely new industry in Europe and hence

easily mechanized, whereas the long established woolen trade, in which both employers

and workers hesitated to abandon their customary ways, was mechanized more slowly.

The suddenness of the change must not be exaggerated. It is often said that the Industrial

Revolution was not a revolution at all. As late as the 1830s only a small fraction of the

British working people were employed in factories. But the factory and the factory system

were even then regarded as the coming mode of production, destined to grow and expand

and symbolize the irresistible march of progress.

Some Social Consequences of Industrialism in Britain

The Britain that emerged fundamentally unscathed and in fact strengthened from the wars

with Napoleon was no longer the sparsely populated “merrie England” of days of yore. The

island was becoming crowded with people, as was the lesser island of Ireland. The com-

bined population of Great Britain and Ireland tripled in the century from 1750 to 1850, ris-

ing from about 10 million in 1750 to about 30 million in 1850. The growth was distributed

very unevenly. Formerly, in England, most people had lived in the south. But the coal and

iron, and hence the steam power, lay in the Midlands and the north. Here whole new cities

rose seemingly out of nowhere. In 1785 it was estimated that in England and Scotland, out-

side of London, there were only three cities with more than 50,000 people. Seventy years

later, the span of one lifetime, there were 31 British cities of this size.

Preeminent among them was Manchester in Lancashire, the fi rst and

most famous of the new industrial cities. Manchester, before the coming

of the cotton mills, was a rather large market town. Though very ancient,

it had not been signifi cant enough to be recognized as a borough for rep-

resentation in Parliament. Locally it was organized as a manor. Not until 1845 did the

inhabitants extinguish the manorial rights, buying them out at that time from the last lord.

In population Manchester grew from 25,000 in 1772 to 455,000 in 1851. But until 1835

there was no regular procedure in England for the incorporation of cities. Urban organiza-

tion was more backward than in Prussia or France. Unless it had inherited its legal status

from the Middle Ages, a city had no legal existence. It lacked proper offi cials and adequate

tax-raising and lawmaking powers. It was therefore diffi cult for Manchester and the other

new factory towns to deal with problems of rapid urbanization, such as provision for police

protection, water and sewers, or the disposal of garbage.

The new urban agglomerations were drab places, blackened with the heavy soot of the

early coal age, settling alike on the mills and the workers’ quarters, which were dark at

best, for the climate of the Midlands is not sunny. Housing for workers was hastily built,

Manchester

Transportation

52. The Industrial Revolution in Britain

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Chapter 11 Industries, Ideas, and the Struggle for Reform, 1815–1848456

closely packed, and always in short supply, as in all rapidly growing communities. Entire

families lived in single rooms, and family life in such conditions tended to disintegrate.

A police offi cer in Glasgow observed that there were whole blocks of tenements in the

city, each swarming with a thousand ragged children who had fi rst names only, usually

nicknames—like animals, as he put it.

The distressing feature of the new factories was that for the most part they required

unskilled labor only. Skilled workers found themselves degraded in status.

Hand weavers and spinners, thrown out of work by the new machines,

either languished in misery or went off to a factory to fi nd a less skilled

job. The factories paid good wages by the standards for unskilled labor at

the time. But these standards were very low, too low to allow a man to support his wife and

children. This had generally been true for unskilled labor, in England and elsewhere, under

earlier economic systems also. In the new factories, however, the work was so mechanical

that children as young as 6 years old were often preferred. Women, too, worked for less

and were often more adept at handling a bobbin, which brought many women spinners

from the older, displaced “cottage industries” into the new industrial working class.

Unskilled labor

The invention of the steam locomotive and the development of new railways contributed to early nineteenth-century industrialization. This train was comming into London on one of the rail lines that began to connect smaller industrial cities to the commercial life of the British capital in the 1830s. (SSPL/Getty Images)

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457

The people who found jobs in the new factories—men, women, children—often

worked 14 hours a day or occasionally even more; and though such hours were familiar to

persons who had worked on farms, or at domestic industry in rural households, they

became more tedious and oppressive in the more regimented working conditions in the

mills. Holidays were few, except for the unwelcome leisure of unemployment, which was

a common scourge, because the short-run ups and downs of business were very erratic. A

day without work produced nothing to live on, but even where the daily wage was rela-

tively attractive, the worker’s real income was chronically insuffi cient. Workers in the

factories, as in the mines, were almost entirely unorganized. They were a mass of recently

assembled humanity without traditions or common ties. They bargained individually with

their employers who, usually small business people themselves, faced ferocious competi-

tion with others. The employers were often in debt for the equipment in their own facto-

ries, or they were determined to save money in order to purchase more, and so they held

their wages bill to the lowest possible fi gure.

The factory owners, the new “cotton lords,” were the fi rst industrial

capitalists. They were often self-made men, who owed their position to

their own intelligence, persistence, and foresight rather than to an aristo-

cratic birth. They lived in comfort without ostentation or luxury, saving from each year’s

income to build up their factories and their machines. Hard-working themselves, they

thought that landed gentlemen were usually idlers and that the poor tended to be lazy. They

were usually honest, in a hard and exacting way; they would make money by any means

the law allowed, but not beyond it. They were neither brutal nor knowingly hard-hearted.

The cotton lords

BRITAIN BEFORE AND AFTER THE INDUSTRIAL REVOLUTION In 1700 England, Scotland, and Wales had only one city with a population of more than 100,000. In 1911 they had nearly 30, most of which were located in the industrialized Midlands (the area within the small rectangle).

IN 1911

0 50 100 miles

London

Glasgow Edinburgh

Newcastle

Sunderland

Hull Leeds

Sheffield

Nottingham

Leicester

Halifax

Norwich

Brighton

Plymouth

Southampton

Portsmouth

Cardiff

Birmingham Wolverhampton

Derby

Preston Bolton

Liverpool

Blackburn B radf

ord

Manch est

er Oldham

Population Density: Persons per Square Mile

250 to 500

Over 500

Cities over 100,000

ABOUT 1700

London

52. The Industrial Revolution in Britain

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Chapter 11 Industries, Ideas, and the Struggle for Reform, 1815–1848458

They gave to charitable and philanthropic causes. They believed that they did the poor a

favor by furnishing them with work and by seeing to it that they worked diligently and

productively. Most of them disapproved of public regulation of their business, though a

few, driven by competition to expedients that they did not like, such as the employment of

small children, would have accepted some regulation that fell on all competitors equally.

It was a cotton magnate, the elder Robert Peel, who in 1802 pushed the fi rst Factory Act

through Parliament. This act purported to regulate the conditions in which pauper children

were employed in the textile mills, but it was a dead letter from the beginning, because it

provided no adequate body of factory inspectors. The English at this time, alone among

the leading European peoples, had no class of trained, paid, and professional government

administrators; nor did they yet want such a class, preferring self-government and local

initiative. To have inspectors for one’s affairs smacked of Continental bureaucracy. The

fact that the older methods of economic regulation were obsolescent, actually unsuited to

the new age, had the effect of discrediting the idea of regulation itself. The new industri-

alists wanted to be left alone to manage their factories and workers without government

interventions. They considered it unnatural to interfere with business and believed that, if

allowed to follow their own judgment, they would assure the future prosperity and prog-

ress of the country.

Classical Economics: “Laissez-Faire”

The industrialists were strengthened in these beliefs by the emerging science of politi-

cal economy. In 1776 Adam Smith published his epochal Wealth of Nations, which criti- cized the regulatory and monopolistic economic practices of the older mercantilism. Smith

urged, though with moderation, that certain “natural laws” of production and exchange

be allowed to work freely in economic markets, and these themes were further developed

by early nineteenth-century theorists such as Thomas R. Malthus, David Ricardo, and the

so-called Manchester School. Their doctrine was dubbed (by its opponents) laissez-faire

and in its elaborated form is still called classical economics. It held, basically, that there is

a world of economic relationships autonomous and separable from government or politics.

It is the world of the free market, and this market is regulated within itself

by certain natural laws, such as the law of supply and demand. All persons

should follow their own enlightened self-interest; all know their own inter-

ests better than anyone else; and the sum total of individual interests will

add up to the general welfare and liberty of all. The market itself, as the

Manchester School theorists described it, will resolve the economic crises or imbalances

that arise in the recurring cycles of production and trade and supply and demand. Govern-

ment therefore should do as little as possible; it should confi ne itself to preserving security

of life and property and to providing reasonable laws and reliable courts, thus ensuring

the effi cient discharge of private contracts, debts, and obligations. Not only business but

education, charity, and personal matters generally should be left to private initiative. There

should be no tariffs; free trade should reign everywhere, for the economic system is world-

wide, unaffected by political barriers or national differences.

As for workers, according to classical economists before about 1850, they should not

expect to make more than a bare minimum living; an “iron law of wages,” the economists

argued, shows that as soon as workers receive more than a subsistence wage they breed

more children, who eat up the excess, so that they reduce themselves, and the working

class generally, again to a subsistence level. Workers, if discontented, should see the folly

of changing the economic system, for this is the system, the natural system—there is no

Self-interest and free

trade

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459

Historical Interpretations and Debates

Women and the Industrial Revolution

Historians agree that the transition to large-scale industrial production during the nineteenth century became one of the most far-reaching transformations in human history, but they often disagree about how industrialization changed social hierarchies, family life, and the economic positions of different social classes. Among numerous other changes, the Industrial Revolution altered traditional patterns of work and domestic life for both women and men, so that the new factory system helped to reshape the meaning of masculinity, womanhood, and the gendered division of labor. Compare the interpre- tations that Louise A. Tilly and Joan W. Scott and Sonya O. Rose develop in their accounts of how industrialization infl uenced nineteenth-century European women and ideas about gender.

Louise A. Tilly and Joan W. Scott, Women, Work, and Family (1987) Under the [pre-industrial] family wage

economy married women performed several

roles for their families. They often contributed

wages to the family fund, they managed

the household, and they bore and cared for

children. With industrialization, however, the

demands of wage labor increasingly confl icted

with women’s domestic activities. . . .

Industrial jobs required specialization and

a full-time commitment to work, usually in

a specifi c location away from home. While

under the domestic mode of production

women combined market-oriented activities

and domestic work, the industrial mode of

production precluded an easy reconciliation of

married women’s activities. The resolution of

the confl ict [in nineteenth-century England and

France] was for married women not to work

unless family fi nances urgently required it. . . .

In general, married women tended

to be found in largest numbers in the least

industrialized sectors of the labor force, in those

areas where the least separation existed between

home and workplace and where women could

control the rhythm of their work. . . .

Married women were thus clustered

in those jobs which were temporary and

episodic, which corresponded to their less

certain commitment to wage earning. These

jobs were also low-paying, exploiting the

usually desperate need that drove a married

woman to seek employment and the fact that

she had neither the skill nor the organizational

support which might command higher wages.

Sonya O. Rose , Limited Livelihoods: Gender and Class in Nineteenth- Century England (1992) Gender distinctions were woven into the

fabric of industrial capitalism, and the

development of industrial capitalism had

an impact on what it meant to be a man and

what it meant to be a woman. . . .

Gender distinctions . . . were articulated

in an ideology of family life that portrayed

men as those who were answerable for the

economic well-being of the family and women

as those charged with the care of children

and the upkeep of the household. These

representations were embedded in employer

hiring and managerial practices. . . . However,

the representations belied the extent to which

most men were frequently economically

dependent on their wives and children and

most married women frequently combined

their domestic responsibilities with economic

contributions to their households. Single and

widowed women had to be self-supporting

or the sole support of others, or they had to

make substantial economic contributions to

the households in which they lived. Because

women as a category were low-waged workers

and primarily were hired to do work defi ned

as unskilled, women without men were forced

to subsist on earnings that did not cover the

costs of maintaining themselves. . . .

The language of gender . . . constituted

the labor market as a domain in which jobs

were designed for men. Women’s employment,

especially the employment of married women

and women with children, became problematic.

Sources: Louise A. Tilly and Joan W. Scott, Women, Work, and Family (New York: Methuen, 1987), pp. 123–124, 126: Sonya O. Rose, Limited Livelihoods: Gender and Class in Nineteenth-Century England (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1992), pp. 185–186.

52. The Industrial Revolution in Britain

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Chapter 11 Industries, Ideas, and the Struggle for Reform, 1815–1848460

other. Political economy as taught in grim Manchester was not without

reason called the “dismal science.”

For working people in England the Industrial Revolution was a hard

experience. It should be remembered, however, that neither low wages,

nor the 14-hour day, nor the labor of women and children, nor the ravages of unemploy-

ment were anything new. All had existed for centuries, in England and western Europe,

as agricultural and commercial capitalism replaced the more self-suffi cient economies of

the Middle Ages. Economic insecurity was thus a long-existing social experience for most

people in premodern Europe. The factory towns were in some ways better places than the

rural slums from which many of their people came. Factory routine was psychologically

deadening, but the textile mills were not always worse than the domestic sweatshops in

which manufacturing processes had previously taken place. The concentration of working

people in city and factory eventually opened the way to improvement in their condition. It

made their misery apparent; philanthropic sentiment gradually arose among the more for-

tunate. Gathered in cities, workers obtained more knowledge of the world. Mingling and

talking together, they developed a sense of solidarity, class interest, and common political

aims; and in time they became organized, establishing labor unions by which to obtain a

larger share of the national income.

Britain after the fall of Napoleon became the workshop of the world. Though factories

using steam power also sprang up in France, Belgium, New England, and elsewhere, it

was really not until after 1870 that Great Britain faced major industrial competition from

abroad. The British had a virtual monopoly in textiles and machine tools. The English

Midlands and Scottish Lowlands shipped cotton thread and steam engines to all the world.

British capital was exported to all countries, where it helped to bring new enterprises into

being and to develop the infrastructure for new industrializing economies. London became

the world’s clearinghouse and fi nancial center. Progressive people in other lands looked to

Britain as their model, hoping to learn from its advanced industrial methods, and to imitate

its parliamentary political system.

53. THE ADVENT OF THE “ISMS”

The combined forces of industrialization and of the French Revolution led after 1815 to

a proliferation of new doctrines and movements, most of which contributed to a general

European revolution in 1848. As for the 33 years from 1815 to 1848, there is no better way

of grasping their long-run meaning than to refl ect on the number of enduring “isms” that

arose at that time. The “isms” developed as more or less systematic attempts to describe

coherent sets of political, cultural, or social beliefs; and the advocates of each “ism” usually

organized groups or public “movements” that sought to implement their ideas by changing

political institutions or by transforming certain aspects of modern social and cultural life.

Words for the different “isms” appeared at various times in each European language,

and the English usage of such terms often followed their earlier emergence in other places.

Insofar as is known, however, the word “liberalism” fi rst appeared in the English language

in 1819, “radicalism” in 1820, “socialism” in 1832, “conservatism” in 1835. The 1830s

fi rst saw “individualism,” “constitutionalism,” “humanitarianism,” “feminism,” and “mon-

archism.” “Nationalism” and “communism” date from the 1840s. Not until the 1850s did

the English-speaking world use the word “capitalism” (French capitalisme is much older); and not until even later did people hear of “Marxism,” though the doctrines of Marx grew

out of and refl ected the troubled times of the 1840s.

Working people’s

experiences

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46153. The Advent of the “Isms”

The rapid coinage of new “isms” does not in every case mean that the ideas they

conveyed were new. Many of them had their origin in the Enlightenment, if not before.

People had loved liberty before talking of liberalism, and they had been conservative with-

out defi ning their ideas as conservatism. The appearance of so many “isms” shows rather

that people were making their ideas more systematic. To the “philosophy” of the Enlight-

enment were now added an intense activism and partisanship generated during the French

Revolution. People were obliged to reconsider and analyze society as a whole—and to

compete for infl uence in the expanding public sphere of modern national states. An “ism”

(excluding such words as “hypnotism” or “favoritism”) may therefore be defi ned as the

conscious espousal of a specifi c doctrine in competition with other doctrines. Many of the

new “isms” drew on the analytical themes of the emerging social sciences, and they often

developed institutions in which intellectuals could carry their ideas to other social groups

and wider social movements. New knowledge became linked to new forms of social and

political action. Without the “isms” created in the 30-odd years after the peace of Vienna it

is impossible to understand or even talk about the history of the world since that event, so

that a brief characterization of some of the most important is in order.

Romanticism

One of the most infl uential “isms” was not explicitly political. It was called “romanti-

cism,” a word fi rst used in English in the 1840s to describe a movement then half a century

old. Romanticism was primarily a theory of literature and the arts. Its great exponents

included William Wordsworth, Lord Byron, Percy Bysshe Shelley, and Mary Wollstone-

craft Shelley in England; Victor Hugo, René Chateaubriand, and George Sand in France;

and Friedrich von Schiller, Friedrich Schlegel, and many others in Germany. As a theory

of art it raised basic questions about the nature of human knowledge, the importance of

various human senses or faculties, the relation of thought and feeling, the meaning of the

past and of time itself, and the processes of artistic creativity. Romanticism rejected the

emphasis on classical rules and rational order that had shaped aesthetic theory during much

of the eighteenth century. Romantics celebrated the idiosyncratic visions of creative indi-

viduals rather than the symmetries of classical art and literature. They helped produce the

modern image of defi ant artistic rebels. Representing a new way of sensing all human

experience, romanticism affected much thinking on social and public questions as well as

early nineteenth-century debates about culture and the arts.

Possibly the most fundamental romantic attitude was a love of the

unclassifi able—of moods or impressions, scenes or stories, sights or sounds

or things concretely experienced, personal idiosyncrasies or peculiar cus-

toms that the intellect could never classify, box up, explain away, or reduce

to an abstract generalization. The romantics, characteristically, insisted on the value of

feeling and nonrational experiences as well as of reason. They were aware of the impor-

tance of the subconscious. They were likely to suspect a perfectly lucid idea as somehow

superfi cial. They loved the mysterious, the unknown, the half-seen fi gures on the far hori-

zon. Hence romanticism contributed to a new interest in unfamiliar, distant societies and in

strange, distant historical epochs. Where the philosophes of the Enlightenment had

deplored the Middle Ages as a time of intellectual error, the romantic generation looked

back upon them with respect and even nostalgia, fi nding in them a fascination, a colorful-

ness, or a spiritual depth that they missed in their own time. The “Gothic,” which rational-

ists thought barbarous, had a strong appeal for romantics. A Gothic Revival emerged in the

Love of the

unclassifi able

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Chapter 11 Industries, Ideas, and the Struggle for Reform, 1815–1848462

arts, of which one example was the British Parliament buildings, which were rebuilt in this

architectural style during the 1840s.

In medieval art and institutions, as in the art and institutions of every age and people,

the romantics saw the expression of an inner genius. The idea of original

or creative genius was in fact another of the most fundamental romantic

beliefs. A genius was a dynamic spirit that no rules could hem in, one

that no analysis or classifi cation could ever fully explain. Genius, it was

thought, made its own rules and laws. The genius might be that of the individual person,

such as the artist, writer, or Napoleonic mover of the world. It might be the genius or

spirit of an age. Or it might be the genius of a people or nation, the Volksgeist of Herder, an inherent national character making each people grow in its own distinctive way, which

could be known only by a study of its history; romanticism thus merged in many places

Creative genius

THE INDUSTRIAL REVOLUTION IN BRITAIN (AS SHOWN BY SOURCES OF INCOME) British national income grew about eightfold in the nineteenth century. Income derived from agriculture, forestry, and the like remained about the same, but the income from these activi- ties sank from one-third to one-sixteenth of all income. By 1851 half the national income came from manufacturing, trade, and transportation, and by 1901 three-quarters came from these sources. The category “income from abroad” refers to interest and dividends on loans and investments outside Great Britain, which grew rapidly after the 1850s. Source: P. Deane and W. A. Cole, British Economic Growth (Cambridge, England: Cambridge University Press, second edition, 1967), pp. 166–167.

1801 1811 1821 1831 1841 1851 1861 1871 1881 1891 1901

Total national income

Income from government, professions, domestic service, etc.

Income from abroad

Trade and transport

Manufacture, mining, building

Agriculture, forestry, fishing

£ Millions (current prices) 1,800

1,600

1,400

1,200

1,000

800

600

400

200

0

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463

with new forms of nationalism. Here again romanticism gave a new impetus to study of the

past. Politically, romantics could be found in all camps, conservative, liberal, and radical,

but the emphasis on individual creativity led most romantics toward a critical view of rigid

social and cultural hierarchies. Romanticism thus added cultural and emotional passions to

the more political “isms” that evolved rapidly after 1815.

Classical Liberalism

The fi rst Liberals, calling themselves by that name (though Napoleon used that word for

his own system), arose in Spain among opponents of the Napoleonic occupation who also

sought reforms within Spanish political institutions. The word passed to France, where it

denoted opposition to royalism after the restoration of the Bourbons in 1814 and where it

gained intellectual infl uence through the work of liberal writers such as Benjamin Con-

stant. In England, many Whigs became increasingly liberal, as did even a few Tories.

Liberal political theorists also had infl uence in England, most notably in the writings of

John Stuart Mill, and a new Liberal Party became an important force in British politics

during the 1850s. Nineteenth-century, or “classical,” liberalism varied from country to

country, but it showed many basic similarities, including an emphasis on the rights and

liberties that individuals should possess in every well-ordered, modern society.

Liberals were generally persons of the business and professional classes, together with

enterprising landowners wishing to improve their estates. They believed in

what was modern, enlightened, effi cient, reasonable, and fair. They had con-

fi dence in the human capacity for self-government and self-control. They

set a high value on parliamentary or representative government, working

through reasonable discussion and legislation, with responsible ministries and an impartial

and law-abiding administration. Liberals thus demanded full publicity for all actions of

government, and to ensure such publicity they insisted on freedom of the press and free

rights of assembly. All these political advantages they thought most likely to be realized

under a good constitutional monarchy. Outside England they favored explicit written con-

stitutions. They were not democrats; they generally opposed giving every man the vote,

fearing the excesses of mob rule or of irrational political action. Only as the nineteenth

century progressed did liberals gradually and reluctantly come to accept the idea of univer-

sal male suffrage. Many continued to oppose female suffrage, though some liberals such as

John Stuart Mill argued that women should have the same voting rights as men. Liberals

subscribed to the doctrines of the “rights of man” as set forth in the American and French

revolutions, but with a clear emphasis on the right of property, and in their economic

views they typically followed the British Manchester School or the French economist

J. B. Say. They favored laissez-faire capitalism and free markets, remained suspicious of

the ability of government to regulate business, wanted to get rid of the guild system where

it still existed, and disapproved of attempts on the part of the new industrial laborers to

organize unions.

Internationally they advocated freedom of trade, to be accomplished by the lowering

or abolition of tariffs, so that all countries might exchange their products easily with each

other and with industrial England. In this way, they thought, each country would pro-

duce what it was best able to sell in international markets and so best increase its wealth

and standards of living. From the growth of wealth, production, invention, and scientifi c

progress they believed that the general progress of humanity would ensue. They generally

frowned upon the established churches and landed aristocracies as obstacles to advance-

ment. They believed in the spread of tolerance and education. They were also profoundly

Liberal beliefs

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Chapter 11 Industries, Ideas, and the Struggle for Reform, 1815–1848464

civilian in attitude, disliking wars, conquerors, army offi cers, standing armies, and military

expenditures. They wanted orderly change by processes of legislation. They shrank before

the idea of revolution; and liberals on the Continent usually admired Great Britain, even as

they set about creating their own distinctive national institutions.

Radicalism, Republicanism, Socialism

Radicalism, at least as a word, originated in England, where about 1820 the Philosophical

Radicals proudly applied the term to themselves. These Radicals in the 1820s included not

only the few working-class leaders who were beginning to emerge but also many of the

The new British Houses of Parliament were built during the 1840s. They became a prominent example of the Gothic revival in architecture and of the early nineteenth-century romantic fascination with the Middle Ages. (Hulton Archive/Getty Images)

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465

new industrial capitalists, who were still unrepresented in Parliament. They took up where

such English “Jacobins” as Thomas Paine had left off a generation earlier, before the long

crisis of the French wars had discredited all radicalism as pro-French. The main goal of

Philosophical Radicalism, as its advocates described it, was to extend many of the liberal

claims for individual rights to much wider segments of the population.

The Philosophical Radicals were a good deal like the rationalist French philosophes

before the Revolution. They were followers of an elderly sage, Jeremy Bentham, who in

prolifi c writings from 1776 to 1832 undertook to reform the English criminal and civil law,

church, Parliament, and constitution. The English Radicals professed to deduce the right

form of institutions from the fundamental traits of human nature and psychology. They

impatiently waved aside all arguments based on history, usage, or custom. They wanted to

go to the roots of social and political life. (“Radical” is from the Latin word for “root.”)

They wanted a total reconstruction of laws, courts, prisons, poor relief,

municipal organization, rotten boroughs, and fox-hunting clergy. Their

demand for the reform of Parliament was vehement and insistent. They

detested the Church of England, the peerage, and the squirearchy. Many

radicals would just as soon abolish royalty also; not until the long reign of

Queen Victoria (1837–1901) did the British monarchy become undeniably popular in all

quarters. Above all, radicalism was democratic; it demanded a vote for every adult English-

man. After the Reform Bill of 1832 the industrial capitalists generally turned into liberals,

but the working-class leaders remained radical democrats, as will be seen.

On the Continent radicalism was represented by militant republican-

ism. The years of the First French Republic in the 1790s, which to liberals

and conservatives signifi ed horrors associated with the Reign of Terror,

were for the republicans years of hope and progress, cut short by forces of

reaction. Republicans were a minority even in France; elsewhere, as in Italy and Germany,

they were fewer still, though they existed. Mostly the republicans were drawn from intel-

ligentsia such as students and writers, from working-class leaders protesting social injus-

tice, and from elderly veterans, or the descendants of veterans, to whom the Republic of

’93, with its wars and its glory, was a living thing. Because of police repression, republi-

cans often joined together in secret societies. They looked with equanimity on the prospect

of further revolutionary upheaval, by which they believed that the cause of liberty, equal-

ity, and fraternity would be advanced. Strong proponents of political equality, they were

democrats demanding universal male suffrage. They favored parliamentary government

but were much less concerned with its successful or methodical operation than were

the liberals. Most republicans were bitterly anticlerical. Remembering the internecine

struggle between the church and the republic during the French Revolution, and still facing

the political infl uence of the Catholic clergy (for republicanism was most common in

Catholic countries), they regarded the Catholic Church as the implacable enemy of reason

and liberty. Opposed to monarchy of any kind, even to constitutional monarchy, intensely

hostile to church and aristocracy, conscious heirs of the great French Revolution, orga-

nized in national and international secret societies, not averse to overthrowing existing

regimes by force, the more militant republicans were considered by most other people,

including the liberals, to be little better than anarchists.

Republicanism shaded off into socialism. Socialists generally shared

the political attitudes of republicanism but added other views besides. The

early socialists, those before the Revolution of 1848, were of many kinds,

but all had certain ideas in common. All of them regarded the existing economic sys-

tem and distribution of wealth as aimless, chaotic, and outrageously unjust. All thought it

Demands for radical

reforms

Republican ideals

Socialist views

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Chapter 11 Industries, Ideas, and the Struggle for Reform, 1815–1848466

improper for owners of wealth to have so much economic power—to give or deny work to

the worker, to set wages and hours in their own interests, to guide all the labors of society

in the interests of private profi t. All therefore questioned the value of private enterprise,

favoring some degree of communal ownership of productive assets—banks, factories,

machines, land, and transportation. All disliked competition as a governing economic or

social principle and set forth principles of harmony, cooperation or association instead.

All fl atly and absolutely rejected the laissez-faire of the liberals and the political econo-

mists. Where the latter thought mainly of increasing production, without much concern

over distribution, the early socialists thought mainly of a fairer or more equal distribution

of income among all useful members of society. They believed that further steps toward

social and economic equality would take people beyond (or help them actually achieve)

the civil and legal equality that the French Revolution had so famously affi rmed.

One of the fi rst socialists was also one of the fi rst cotton lords, Robert Owen (1771–

1858) of Manchester and the Scottish Lowlands. Appalled at the condition of the mill-

hands, he created a kind of model community for his own employees, paying high wages,

reducing hours, sternly correcting vice and drunkenness, building schools and housing and

company stores for the cheap sale of workers’ necessities. From such paternalistic capital-

ism in his early years he passed on to a lifelong campaign for social reforms, in which he

was somewhat handicapped, not only by the opposition of industrialists, but also by his

unpopular radicalism in matters of religion.

Most of the early socialists were French, spurred onward by the sense

of an uncompleted revolution. One was a nobleman, the Count de Saint-

Simon (1760–1825), who had fought in the War of American Indepen-

dence, accepted the French Revolution, and in his later years wrote many

books on social problems. He and his followers, who called themselves not

socialists but Saint-Simonians, were among the fi rst clear exponents of a planned society.

They advocated the public ownership of industrial equipment and other capital, with con-

trol vested in the hands of great captains of industry or social engineers, who should plan

vast projects like the digging of a canal at Suez, and in general coordinate the labor and

resources of society to productive ends. Of a different type was Charles Fourier (1772–

1837), a somewhat doctrinaire thinker who subjected all social institutions to a sweeping

condemnation. His positive program took the form of proposing that society be organized

in small communal units that he termed “phalansteries.” Each of these he conceived to

contain 1,620 persons, each doing the work suited to his or her natural inclination. Among

the practical French no phalanstery was ever successfully organized. A number were

established in the United States, still the land of Europe’s utopian dream; the best known,

because it was operated by literary people, was the Brook Farm “movement” in Massachu-

setts, which ran through a troubled existence of fi ve years from 1842 to 1847. Robert

Owen also, in 1825, had founded an experimental colony in America, at New Harmony,

Indiana, on the then remote and unspoiled banks of the Wabash River; it, too, lasted only

about fi ve years. Such schemes, as their critics pointed out, presupposed the withdrawal of

select spirits to live by themselves and really had little to say about the problems of society

as a whole in an industrial age.

Politically the most signifi cant form of socialism before 1848 was the

movement stirring among the working classes of France, a compound of

revolutionary republicanism and socialism. The politically minded Paris

workers had been republican since 1792. For them the Revolution was not fi nished but

only momentarily interrupted. Reduced to political impotence during the early nineteenth

century, discriminated against in the law courts, obliged to carry identity papers signed by

Saint-Simonians and

Fourier

The French working

classes

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467

their employers, and goaded by the pressures of industrialization as new factories spread

across France, they developed a deep hostility to the wealthier, property-owning classes.

They found a spokesman in the Paris journalist Louis Blanc, editor of the Revue de progrès and author of the Organization of Work (1839), one of the most constructive of the early socialist writings. He proposed a system of “social workshops,” or state-supported manu-

facturing centers, in which the workers should labor by and for themselves without the

intervention of private capitalists. Of this kind of socialism we shall hear more.

As for “communism,” it was at this time an emerging synonym for socialism. A small

group of German revolutionaries, mainly exiles in France, took the name for themselves in

the 1840s. They would have been historically forgotten had they not included Karl Marx

and Friedrich Engels among their members. Marx and Engels consciously used the word

when they wrote The Communist Manifesto in 1848 and whenever they wanted to differ- entiate their variety of socialism from that of such utopians as Saint-Simon, Fourier, and

Owen. But the word communism went out of general use after 1848, to be revived after the Russian Revolution of 1917, at which time it received a somewhat new meaning.

Feminism

Feminism emerged as a new political and cultural movement in the early nineteenth cen-

tury, though the term itself did not appear until some women in France began to refer to

themselves as “feminists” during the 1830s. There were several strands of feminism, as

there were several strands of all signifi cant “isms,” but most feminists shared various ideas

with liberals, radicals, or socialists—especially the belief in the fundamental rights of

every person. Feminism sought to expand the rights of women in both public and private

life. Drawing on the legacy of the French Revolution and its conceptions of human rights,

feminists argued that the rights of man existed also for women (much as republicans and

socialists claimed that such rights must also exist for poor people and workers). Some

feminists, extending the arguments of Mary Wollstonecraft’s infl uential book, A Vindica- tion of the Rights of Women (1792), worked mainly to secure new voting and civil rights for women. Other feminists, though they might also support the quest for voting rights,

worked mainly to reform the laws that regulated family life or to advance the rights of

women in education, cultural life, and the economy. Both of these tendencies in early

nineteenth-century feminism drew on Enlightenment ideas about human rights, reform,

MARY WOLLSTONECRAFT Engraving after a portrait by John Opie (English, 1761–1807)

Mary Wollstonecraft was the most infl uential English advocate for women’s rights in the revolutionary era of the 1790s. Her writings emphasized that women should have equal opportunities for a rational education, which would prepare them to participate more equally with men in modern public life and professional work. (Universal History Archive/Getty Images)

53. The Advent of the “Isms”

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Chapter 11 Industries, Ideas, and the Struggle for Reform, 1815–1848468

education, and progress, so that feminism resembled republicanism, radicalism, and social-

ism in its links to eighteenth-century predecessors, including French writers such as Con-

dorcet and Olympe de Gouges.

The writers and activists who sought new political rights for women

tended to be “egalitarian” feminists; that is, they stressed the ways in which

women and men shared the use of reason and universal human rights.

Despite the obvious connection to themes of the French Revolution, the

campaign for women’s political rights developed more rapidly in early nineteenth-century

England and America. These national differences may have refl ected the fact that voting

rights generally became more widespread in England and America in the decades before

1848; or the different feminisms may have developed because French republicanism had

become hostile to female political activities during the later stages of the French Revolu-

tion, and because the Napoleonic Code had given French women a subordinate position in

the patriarchical legal system that regulated family relations. In any case, French feminists

in the nineteenth century tended to focus on the social, cultural, or legal rights of women

rather than on campaigns to win the vote.

The fi rst nineteenth-century advocates for women’s rights in England

were Philosophical Radicals and followers of the socialist leader Robert

Owen. The socialists Anne Wheeler and William Thompson, for example,

published an important statement of the new feminist themes in their Appeal on Behalf of Women (1825), which traced the inferior status of women to fl aws in the economic system. Similar arguments appeared also in the writings of Owen himself and in the publications of

his feminist friend, the Scottish writer Frances Wright. But the most infl uential English argu-

ment for women’s political rights emerged in the works of the liberal writers Harriet Taylor

and John Stuart Mill, who worked together as close intellectual partners for more than 20

years (they ultimately married after the death of her fi rst husband). Beginning in the 1830s,

Taylor and Mill produced important works on the social, legal, and political inequalities that

women faced in even the most advanced modern societies. Their collaboration led fi nally to

Mill’s famous book, The Subjection of Women (1869), in which Mill referred to the decisive infl uence of Taylor’s ideas, though she had died before its publication. Mill built his case for

women’s political and social rights on the claim that women were inherently equal to men

(hence entitled to the same rights) and on the utilitarian argument that society could only

benefi t from the increased participation of women in public life. Translated into all the major

European languages, his book had much subsequent infl uence on feminist campaigns for

the political and legal rights of women in other nations as well as in England. Meanwhile,

American women launched their own campaign for voting rights at a convention in Seneca

Falls, New York, where leaders such as Elizabeth Cady Stanton declared, in 1848, that

women were entitled to vote because they were “created equal” with men.

Feminists also entered public life on the Continent during the 1830s

and 1840s, especially in France. Socialists such as Saint-Simon and Fourier

gave critical attention to the history of the family, thereby encouraging their

followers to develop a social analysis of traditional restrictions on the rights

of women. Women activists in the Saint-Simonian groups of the 1830s established jour-

nals whose titles asserted new feminist identities: The Free Woman and The New Woman. A new generation of women writers also began to extend the earlier work of Germaine

de Staël, who had argued that “it is useful to society’s enlightenment and happiness that

women should carefully develop their intelligence and their reason.” All feminists advo-

cated better education for young women, reforms in property and divorce laws to enhance

women’s independence, and the right of women to participate in public debates. Many

Egalitarian feminism

English feminists

French feminism

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469

feminists in France, however, moved away from the egalitarian arguments for women’s

rights by stressing certain differences between men and women. The special responsibili-

ties of motherhood, for example, gave women a distinctive, essential task in educating the

rising generation, but only well-educated, competent women could raise intelligent, well-

educated children. Feminists thus strongly supported the creation of new schools for girls

and began seeking women’s access to higher education (public secondary schools for girls

were not established in France until the 1880s).

In addition to the campaigns for education and legal reforms, many feminists became

writers in order to describe the social lives of women or to assert their claims for a place

in public life. The travel writings of Flora Tristan (1803–1844), for instance, examined

the social constraints that women faced in both South America and Europe. Another

French writer of Tristan’s generation, George Sand (1804–1876), became the most infl uen-

tial literary woman of the 1840s. Her many novels and essays often portrayed independent

women, but her personal life was almost as famous and controversial as her books. Critics

mocked her for wearing male clothing, smoking cigars, and living with men outside mar-

riage; yet Sand also won the admiring support of readers throughout Europe, many of

whom saw her as a model for new forms of female cultural and political expression. She

therefore became a famous symbol for both supporters and enemies of the new femi-

nism; indeed, the term “George Sandism” was used to condemn women whose behavior

seemed radical or unconventional. Such hostility indicates how feminism had become

one of the expanding postrevolutionary “isms,” though the political campaign for wom-

en’s voting rights and other legal reforms would not achieve its main objectives until the

twentieth century.

53. The Advent of the “Isms”

The Saint-Simonian movement in France produced early feminist publications and also helped to launch a new social analy- sis of the restrictions on women’s rights. This engraving by the artist Malreuve in 1832 suggests the unconventional behav- ior of the Saint-Simonian feminists; the woman is wearing a dress short for its time and standing beside a document that says simply “Doctrine of St. Simon. The Free Woman?” (Bibliothèque Nationale de France)

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Chapter 11 Industries, Ideas, and the Struggle for Reform, 1815–1848470

Nationalism: Western Europe

Nationalism fi rst arose in many places as part of the general reaction against the interna-

tional Napoleonic system, but it also drew its strength from specifi c cultural and political

traditions in each country. It was the most pervasive and the least crystallized of the new

“isms,” in part because it usually overlapped with various forms of romanticism, republi-

canism, or liberalism. In western Europe—Britain, France, or Spain—where national unity

already existed, nationalism was not a doctrine for nation-building so much as a set of politi-

cal and cultural beliefs, easily aroused when national interests were questioned but normally

taken for granted. Elsewhere—in Italy, Germany, Poland, the Austrian and Turkish

empires—where peoples of the same nationality were politically divided or subject to

foreign rule, nationalism was becoming a deliberate and conscious program for political

action. It was undoubtedly the example of the West, of Great Britain and France, successful

and fl ourishing because they were unifi ed nations, that stimulated the ambitions of other

peoples to become unifi ed nations too. The period after 1815 was in Germany a time of

rising agitation over the national question; in Italy, of the Risorgimento or “resurgence”; in

eastern Europe, of the Slavic Revival.

The movement was led by intellectuals, who often found it necessary

to instill in their compatriots the very idea of nationality itself. They seized

upon Herder’s conception of the Volksgeist, or national spirit, applying its emphasis on national differences to their own people. Usually they began with a cultural

nationalism, holding that each people had a language, history, world view, and culture of

its own, which must be preserved and perfected. They then usually passed on to a political

nationalism, holding that to preserve this national culture, and to protect the inherent rights

and freedom of its individual members, each nation should create for itself an independent

sovereign state. Nationalism thus fused culture and politics to affi rm the enduring exis-

tence of transcendent national identities, most of which took on the emotional meaning or

intensity of a deeply felt religious faith. Rejecting the older dynastic state system that had

regularly transferred territories and people among royal families, nationalists argued that

governing authorities should be of the same nationality and language as those they

governed. All persons who shared a national culture and national language should there-

fore be encompassed within the same state, and all should be granted the legal rights of

national citizenship.

Because such ideas could not be fully realized without the overthrow of every govern-

ment in Europe east of France, thoroughgoing nationalism was inherently revolutionary.

Outspoken nationalists were therefore persecuted by the authorities, which

drove them everywhere into secret nationalist societies. The Carbonari,

organized in Italy in the time of Napoleon, was the best known, but there

were many others—like the Veri Italiani, the Apophasimenes, and the Sublime and Perfect Masters. In some regions Masonic lodges might serve the same pur-

pose. Nationalism often merged with liberalism, socialism, or revolutionary republicanism

in an undifferentiated way. Members of the secret nationalist societies were initiated by

a complex ritual intended to impress upon them the dire consequences of betraying the

group’s secrets. They used special grips and passwords and adopted revolutionary names

to conceal their identity and baffl e the police. They were usually so organized that the ordi-

nary member knew the identity of only a few others, and never of the higher-ups, so that

those arrested could reveal nothing important. The societies circulated forbidden literature

and generally sought to generate a revolutionary ferment. Conservatives dreaded them, but

they were not really dangerous to any government that enjoyed the support of its people.

Volksgeist

Secret societies

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471

Best known o f the nationalist philosophers in western Europe was the Italian Joseph

Mazzini (1805–1872), who spent most of his adult life in exile in France

and England. In his youth he joined the Carbonari, but in 1831 he founded

a society of his own, called Young Italy, and he edited and smuggled into

Italy copies of a journal of the same name. Young Italy was soon imitated by other societ-

ies of similar aim, such as Young Germany. In 1834 Mazzini tried unsuccessfully to

bring about an uprising against the kingdom of Sardinia, which he viewed as a key obsta-

cle to the unifi cation of Italy. Undeterred by the total failure of this plan, he continued to

organize, to conspire, and to write. For Mazzini nationality and revolution were a holy

cause in which the most generous and humane qualities were to fi nd expression. He was

a moral philosopher, as may be judged from the title of his most widely read book, The Duties of Man, in which he placed duty to the nation intermediate between duty to family and to God.

To many Germans, divided and politically frustrated, nationality became the most

important component of collective and personal identities. Nationalism therefore had a

very wide infl uence on German culture, entering everything from folklore to metaphysics.

Grimm’s Fairy Tales, for example, was fi rst published in 1812. It was the work of the two Grimm brothers, founders of the modern science of comparative linguistics, who traveled

about Germany to study the popular dialects and in doing so collected the folktales that for

generations had been current among the common people. They hoped in this way to fi nd

the ancient, native, indigenous “spirit” of Germany, deep and unspoiled in the bosom of the

Volk —a theme that had emerged previously in the philosophical writings of Herder. A similar preoccupation with nationhood revealed itself in the philosophy of Hegel (1770–1831),

possibly the most extraordinary of all nineteenth-century thinkers.

Mazzini

This caricature of George Sand, which appeared in a lithograph by Alcide Lorentz in 1842, mocks the famous author for her apparently “masculine” actions. Dressed in pants, holding a ciga- rette, and surrounded by her writings and political concerns, Sand is ridiculed in both the image and in a sarcastic caption—which alludes to her claim that genius “has no sex.” (Musee de la Ville de Paris, Musee Carnavalet,

Paris, France/Archives Charmet/The Bridgeman

Art Library)

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Chapter 11 Industries, Ideas, and the Struggle for Reform, 1815–1848472

To Hegel, witnessing the spectacle of the Napoleonic years, it was evi-

dent that for a people to enjoy freedom, order, or dignity it must possess a

potent and independent state. The state, for him, became the institutional

embodiment of reason and liberty—the “march of God through the world,” as he put it,

meaning not an expansion in space through vulgar conquest, but an expansion of the “Idea”

of freedom as it advanced through time and through the confl icts of human history. Hegel

conceived of reality itself as a process of endless change, a development having an inner

logic and necessary sequence of its own. He thus broke with the more static or mechanical

philosophy of the eighteenth century, with its fi xed categories of unchangeable right and

wrong. He became a philosopher of history, in which he saw the unfolding of a “Universal

Spirit” or Idea across time, and he linked this evolving Spirit in complex ways to reason

and freedom. He held that change came about through a historical “dialectic,” or irresist-

ible tendency of the Universal Spirit and the human mind to move forward by the creation

of opposites. A given state of affairs (the thesis ) would in this view inevitably produce the conception of an opposite state of affairs (the antithesis ), which would be followed by a reconciliation and fusion of the two (the synthesis ). This new synthesis became the start- ing point for a new “thesis” in the next stage of dialectical change. Thus, for example, the

very disunity of Germany, by producing the opposing idea of unity, would ultimately lead

toward the creation of a more unifi ed German state.

The Hegelian dialectic was soon to be appropriated by Karl Marx to new uses, but

meanwhile Hegel’s philosophy, with other currents in Germany, made the study of history

more philosophically meaningful than it had ever been before. History, the study of change

across time, seemed to be the very key with which to unlock the true signifi cance of the

world; it could show the unfolding of the Universal Spirit in specifi c times and places, and

each historical era became important as a phase in the progress toward freedom and reason.

Historical studies were stimulated, and the German universities became centers of historical

learning, attracting scholars from many countries. Most eminent of the German historians

was Leopold von Ranke (1795–1886), founder of the “scientifi c” school of historical writ-

ing. Ranke, too, though intellectually scrupulous to the last degree, owed much of his incen-

tive to his national feeling. His fi rst youthful work was a study of the Latin and Teutonic Peoples; and one of his main ideas, throughout his long life, was that Europe owed its unique greatness to the coexistence and interplay of several distinct nations, which had always

resisted the attempts of any one nation to control the whole. By the latter Ranke really meant

France—the France of Louis XIV and Napoleon. The Germans, said Ranke in 1830, had a

mission from God to develop a culture and a political system that differed from those of the

French. They were destined to “create the pure German state corresponding to the genius of

the nation.” Ranke thus doubted that the constitutional, parliamentary, and individualist

principles of other national liberalisms were suited to the national character of Germany.

In economics Friedrich List, in his National System of Political Econ- omy (1840), held that political economy as taught in England was suited only to England. Economic theories were not abstract truths but a body of

ideas developed in a certain historical stage in a certain country. List thus

became a founder of the historical or institutional school of economics. The doctrine of

free trade, he said, was an English idea that was designed to make England the world’s

industrial center by keeping other countries in the status of suppliers of raw material and

food. But any country, he held, if it was to be civilized and develop its own national cul-

ture, must have cities, factories, industries, and capital of its own. It must therefore put up

high tariffs (at least temporarily, in theory) for protection. List, it should be remarked, had

developed his ideas during a sojourn in the United States, where Henry Clay’s “American

system” was in fact a national system of political economy.

List’s economics

Hegel’s philosophy

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473

Nationalism: Eastern Europe

In eastern Europe the Poles and the Magyars had long been active political nationalists, the

Poles wishing to undo the eighteenth-century partitions of Polish territories and reestablish

their Polish state, the Magyars insisting on autonomy for their kingdom of Hungary within

the Habsburg Empire. But for the most part nationalism in eastern Europe long remained

more cultural than political. Centuries of imperial political development had tended to

submerge the Czechs, Slovaks, Ruthenians, Romanians, Serbs, Croats, Slovenes—and

even the Poles and Magyars in lesser degree. Their upper classes spoke German or French

and looked to Vienna or to Paris for their ideas. The native languages had remained peas-

ant languages, barely known outside the isolated peasant cultures in which they were spo-

ken. It seemed that many of these languages would disappear.

But early in the nineteenth century the new nationalist intellectuals

began to demand the preservation of their historic cultures. They collected

folktales and ballads; they studied the languages, composing grammars and

dictionaries, often for the fi rst time; and they took to writing books in their

Preservation of

historic cultures

LANGUAGES OF EUROPE National movements in modern Europe often referred to the distinctive languages of various national groups, but there are only three main European language families: Germanic, Latin, and Slavic. The map shows language areas in the early twentieth century. It does not show the overlap of adjoining languages, bilingual areas, or the existence of small language “pockets” such as Turkish in the Balkans, Greek in Asia Minor, Yiddish in Poland, or German in scat- tered parts of eastern Europe. In the extreme northwest is the “Celtic fringe,” to which the Breton, Welsh, and Gaelic languages were pushed back in the early Middle Ages. For the area within the diamond-shaped zone no map on this scale can give a realistic idea of the overlap- ping languages. During the Second World War and its aftermath, however, many language pockets in eastern Europe were wiped out through exchange, transportation, or destruction of peoples.

IRISH

GAELIC

ENGLISH

WELSH

BRETON

FRENCH

SPANISH

BASQUE

PO R TU

G U

ES E

CATALAN ITALIAN

FLEMISH

DUTCH

CROATIAN

ALBANIAN

GREEK

BULGARIAN

ROMANIAN

SERB

MAGYAR

CZECH GERMAN

POLISH UKRAINIAN

(LITTLE RUSSIAN, RUTHENIAN)

DANISH

BYELORUSSIAN

LITHUANIAN

LATVIAN

ESTONIAN

GREAT RUSSIAN

FINNISH

SWEDISH

NORWEGIAN

GREEK

SLO VAK

T U R K IS H

Zone of Most Extreme Local Intermixture of Languages

SL OV

EN E

Germanic

Latin (or Romance)

Slavic

Celtic

0 200 400 miles

53. The Advent of the “Isms”

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Chapter 11 Industries, Ideas, and the Struggle for Reform, 1815–1848474

mother tongues. They urged their own educated social classes to give up foreign ways.

They wrote histories showing the famous exploits of their several peoples in the Middle

Ages. A new nationalism stirred the Magyars; in 1837 a national Hungarian theater was

established at Budapest. In what was to become Romania a former Transylvanian peasant

youth named George Lazar began as early as 1816 to teach at Bucharest. He lectured in

Romanian (to the surprise of the upper classes, who preferred Greek), telling how Roma-

nia had a distinguished history back to the Roman emperor Trajan. As for the Greeks, they

entertained visions of restoring the medieval Greek Empire (known to Westerners as the

Byzantine Empire) in which persons of Greek language or Greek Orthodox religion should

become the predominant people of the Balkans.

The most far-reaching of the East European movements was the Slavic

Revival. The Slavs included the Russians, Poles, Ukrainians, Byelorus-

sians, and Ruthenians; the Czechs and Slovaks; and the South Slavs, con-

sisting of the Slovenes, Croats, Serbs, and Bulgars. All branches of the Slavs began to

develop new nationalisms. In 1814, for example, the Serb Vuk Karajich published a gram-

mar of his native tongue and a collection of Popular Songs and Epics of the Serbs; he worked out a Serbian alphabet, translated the New Testament, and declared that the dialect

spoken in the city of Ragusa (now Dubrovnik) should become the literary language of all

South Slavs. In 1836 the Czech historian Francis Palacky published the fi rst volume of his

History of Bohemia, designed to give the Czechs a new pride in their national past. He fi rst wrote his book in German, the common reading language of educated Czechs. But he soon

recast it into Czech, signifi cantly reentitling it a History of the Czech People. Among Poles the poet and revolutionary Adam Mickiewicz became the most prominent advocate for a

new cultural nationalism. Arrested by the Russians in 1823 for membership in a secret

society, he was later allowed by the tsarist government to pass into western Europe. From

1840 to 1844 he taught Slavic literature in Paris at the Collège de France, using his lecture

platform as a rostrum to deliver eloquent pleas for the liberation of all peoples and the

overthrow of autocracy. He wrote epic poems on Polish historical themes and remained

politically active among the revolutionary Polish exiles settled in France.

Russia itself, which Poles and Czechs regarded as backward, was slower to develop

a pronounced national sense. Under Tsar Alexander I a Western or European orientation

prevailed, but in Alexander’s last years and after his death in 1825 the doc-

trines of Slavophilism began to spread. Russian Slavophilism, or the idea

that Russia possessed a distinctive way of life, different from and not to be

corrupted by that of Europe, became a Russian affi rmation of the funda-

mental idea of the Volksgeist. Such views in Russia were at least as old as the opposition to the reforms of Peter the Great. In the nationalistic nineteenth century they crystallized

more systematically into an “ism,” and they tended to merge into Pan-Slavism, which

made substantially the same assertions for the Slavic peoples as a whole. But Pan-Slavism,

before 1848, was no more than embryonic.

Other “Isms”

Romanticism, liberalism, radical republicanism, socialism, feminism, and nationalism

were the political and cultural forces driving many of the new European political and cul-

tural confl icts in the era between 1815 and 1848. Of other “isms” less need

be said. Conservatism remained strong. Politically, on the Continent, con-

servatism upheld the institutions of absolute monarchy, aristocracy, and

The Slavic Revival

Russian Slavophilism

Conservatism

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47554. The Leaking Dam and the Flood: Domestic

church and thus opposed the constitutional and representative government sought by liber-

als. As a political philosophy, conservatism built upon the ideas of Edmund Burke, who

had rejected the Enlightenment theories of universal natural rights. Burke held that every

people must change its institutions by the gradual evolution of its own traditions and that

no people could suddenly realize in the present any freedoms not already well prepared for

in the past. This doctrine lacked appeal for those to whom the past had been a series of

misfortunes, but it gained support among others who sought to defi ne and defend long-

established social or political practices. Conservatism sometimes passed into nationalism,

because it stressed the fi rmness and continuity of national character. But nationalists at this

time were more often liberals or republicans. Monarchism was conservative and even

reactionary. Gone was the enlightened despotism of the previous century, when kings had

boldly irritated their nobles and defi ed their churches. After the thunders of the French

Revolution aristocracy and monarchy huddled together, and their new watchword was to

maintain “the throne and the altar.”

Deeper than other “isms,” a feeling shared in varying ways by people

of all parties, was the profound current of humanitarianism. It consisted in a

heightened concern about the cruelty infl icted upon others. Here the thought

of the Age of Enlightenment suffered no reversal. Torture was gone, and even conservative

monarchical governments showed no inclination to restore it. Conditions in prisons, hos-

pitals, insane asylums, and orphanages attracted new humanitarian attention and gradually

improved. People became determined to change the miserable social position of pauper chil-

dren, chimney sweeps, women in the mines, and enslaved people in the Americas. Russian

serf owners and American slave owners began to show psychological signs of moral doubt.

To degrade human beings, use them as work animals, torture them, confi ne them unjustly,

hold them as hostages for others, abuse their bodies, tear apart their families, and punish

their relatives were increasingly regarded by Europeans as foreign to modern, enlightened

civilizations. The Christian sense of the inviolability of the human person was now again, in

a more secular, mundane way, beginning to relieve the sufferings of humanity.

54. THE LEAKING DAM AND THE FLOOD: DOMESTIC

It is now time to look more specifi cally at the most infl uential political reactions and

reform movements that emerged after the European peace settlement of 1814–1815. The

governments that defeated Napoleon wanted to assure themselves above all else that the

disturbances of the past 25 years would not be renewed. In France the restored Bourbon

king, Louis XVIII, aspired to keep his throne for himself and his successors. In Great

Britain the conservative governing class hoped to preserve the old England that they had

so valiantly saved from the clutches of Bonaparte. In Germany, Austria, Italy, and central

Europe the chief aim of Metternich, who for another 33 years remained the dominant polit-

ical fi gure in these regions, was to maintain a system in which the prestige of the Habsburg

dynasty should be supreme. The aims of the tsar, Alexander, were less clear. He was feared

by representatives of the other powers as a dreamer, a self-chosen world savior, a man who

said he wanted to bring Christianity into politics, a crowned Jacobin, and even a liberal.

It became one of Metternich’s chief hopes to convert Alexander to a fi rm conservatism.

The arrangements made by the victorious powers were in some ways moderate, at least

when the provocations they had undergone in the Napoleonic wars are considered. Partly

by the tsar’s insistence written constitutions existed after 1814 in France and in Russian

or “Congress” Poland. Some of the rulers of south German states allowed a measure of

Humanitarianism

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Chapter 11 Industries, Ideas, and the Struggle for Reform, 1815–1848476

representative government. Even the king of Prussia promised a representative assembly

for his kingdom, though the promise was not kept. But it was diffi cult to maintain any kind

of social or political stability. The forces of the political right and the privileged classes

(or in France the former privileged classes) denounced all signs of liberalism as dangerous

concessions to revolution. Those of the political left—liberals, nationalists, republicans—

regarded the newly installed regimes as hopelessly reactionary and inadequate. Statesmen

were jittery on the subject of revolution. They therefore met every sign of agitation with

attempts at repression, which, though they might drive agitation temporarily underground,

really only made it worse by creating additional grievances. A vicious circle was set end-

lessly revolving.

Reaction after 1815: France, Poland

In France Louis XVIII began his reign in 1814 with an amnesty to the regicides of 1793.

But the regicides, like all republicans, found the France of 1814 an uncomfortable place,

exposed as they were to the unoffi cial vengeance of counterrevolutionaries, and most of

them had rallied to Napoleon when he returned from Elba. This exasperated

the royalist counterrevolutionaries beyond all measure. A brutal “white ter-

ror” broke out after the Bourbon monarchy regained power in 1815. Upper-

class youths murdered Bonapartists and republicans; Catholic mobs seized

and killed Protestants at Marseilles and Toulouse. The Chamber of Deputies chosen in

1815 (by the tiny electorate of 100,000 well-to-do landowners) proved to be more reac-

tionary and royalist than the king . The king himself could not control the mounting frenzy of reaction, which he was sensible enough to realize would only infuriate the revolutionary

element still further, as in fact happened. In 1820 a fanatical workingman assassinated the

king’s nephew, the Duke de Berry. Those who said that all partisans of the French Revolu-

tion were criminal extremists seemed to be justifi ed. The reaction deepened, until in 1824

Louis XVIII died and was succeeded by his brother Charles X. Not only was Charles X the

father of the recently murdered Duke de Berry, but for over 30 years he had also been the

acknowledged leader of implacable counterrevolution. As the Count of Artois, youngest

brother of Louis XVI, he had been among the fi rst to emigrate in 1789. He was the favorite

Bourbon among the most obstinate ex-seigneurs, nobles, and churchmen. Regarding him-

self as hereditary absolute monarch by the grace of God, he had himself crowned at Reims

with all the romantic pomp of ages past, and proceeded to stamp out not only revolutionary

republicanism but liberalism and constitutionalism as well.

In Poland, it will be recalled, the Vienna settlement created a constitutional kingdom,

with the Russian tsar Alexander as king, joined in merely personal union with the Russian

Empire. The new machinery did not work very well. The Polish constitution provided for

an elected diet, a wide suffrage by the standards of the day, the Napoleonic civil code,

freedom of press and religion, and exclusive use of the Polish language. But the Poles dis-

covered that Alexander, though favoring liberty in the abstract, did not like to have anyone

disagree with him. They could make little use of their much touted freedom in any actual

legislation. The elected diet could not get along with Alexander’s viceroy, who was a Rus-

sian. In Russia the serf-owning aristocracy viewed Alexander’s idea of a constitutional

kingdom in Poland with a jaundiced eye. They wanted no experimentation with liberty on

the very borders of Russia.

The Poles themselves played into the hands of their Russian enemies,

in part because the Poles were among the fi rst central European peoples

to develop strong nationalist aspirations. They were dissatisfi ed with the

The “white terror”

Polish ambitions

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477

boundaries accorded to Congress Poland, and they dreamed of the vast kingdom that had

existed before the First Partition in 1772. At the University of Vilna professors and stu-

dents began to join secret societies. Some members of these societies were nationalist

revolutionaries who wanted to drive out Alexander, reunite with Prussian and Austrian

Poland, and reconstitute an independent Polish state. It was in the discovery and breaking

up of one such society that Adam Mickiewicz was arrested in 1823. Reaction and repres-

sion now struck the University of Vilna.

Reaction after 1815: The German States, Britain

In Germany those who had felt national stirrings during the Wars of Liberation were disil-

lusioned by the peace treaty, which maintained the several German principalities about as

Napoleon had left them and purposely united them only in a loose federation, or Bund.

National ideas were most common in the numerous universities, where students and pro-

fessors were more susceptible than most people to the doctrines of an eternal Volksgeist and a far-fl ung Deutschtum. National ideas tended to glorify the German common people and thus carried with them a kind of democratic opposition to aristocrats, princes, and

kings. Students in many of the universities in 1815 formed college clubs, called collec-

tively the Burschenschaft, which, as centers of serious political discussion, were to

King Charles X sought to restore the political principles and practices of the prerevolutionary French monarchy. His coronation in 1824, as portrayed here, thus re-created traditional royal pomp and symbols, but his attempts to repress liberal constitutionalism led to a new revolution and his abdication of power in 1830. (Time Life Pictures/Mansell/Time Life Pictures/Getty Images)

54. The Leaking Dam and the Flood: Domestic

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Chapter 11 Industries, Ideas, and the Struggle for Reform, 1815–1848478

replace the older clubs devoted to drinking and dueling. The Burschenschaft, a kind of German youth movement, held a nationwide congress at Wartburg in 1817. Students

listened to rousing speeches by patriotic professors, marched about in “Teutonic” cos-

tume, and burned a few reactionary books. This undergraduate performance posed no

immediate threat to any established state, but the nervous governments took alarm. In

1819 a theology student assassinated the German writer Kotzebue, known as an informer

in the service of the tsar. The assassin received hundreds of letters of congratulation, and

at Nassau the head of the local government barely escaped the same fate at the hands of a

pharmacy student.

Metternich now chose to intervene. He had no authority in Germany

except in that Austria was a member of the Germanic federation. He regarded

all these manifestations of German national spirit, or of any demand for a

more solidly unifi ed Germany, as a threat to the favorable position of the

Austrian Empire and to the whole balance of state power in Europe. He called a conference

of the principal German states at Carlsbad in Bohemia; the frightened conferees adopted

certain resolutions, proposed by Metternich, which were soon enacted by the diet of the

Bund. These Carlsbad Decrees (1819) dissolved the Burschenschaft and the equally nation- alistic gymnastic clubs (some of whose members thereupon joined secret societies). They

provided for government offi cials to be placed in the universities and for censors to control

the contents of books and the periodical and newspaper press. The Carlsbad Decrees

remained in force for many years, and they imposed an effective check on the growth of

liberal and nationalist ideas in Germany.

Nor did Great Britain escape the dreary rounds of agitation and repres-

sion. As elsewhere, radicalism produced reaction and vice versa. Britain

after Waterloo was a country devoted to its old traditions but also affl icted

by the most advanced social problems of a rapidly developing industrial

economy. In 1815, at the close of the Napoleonic wars, the landed classes

feared an inrush of imported agricultural products and consequent collapse of farm prices

and rentals. The landowning gentry who controlled Parliament enacted a new Corn Law,

raising the protective tariff to the point where import of grain became impossible unless

prices were very high. Landlords and their farmers benefi ted, but wage earners and indus-

trial workers found the price of breadstuffs soaring out of reach. At the same time there

was a postwar depression in industry. Wages fell and many were thrown out of work.

These conditions naturally contributed to the spread of political radicalism, which looked

fi rst of all to a drastic reform of the House of Commons in order that thereafter a radical

program of social and economic legislation might be enacted.

A riot broke out in London in December 1816. In the following February the Prince

Regent was attacked in his carriage. The government suspended habeas corpus and

employed agents provocateurs to obtain evidence against the agitators. Industrialists of Manchester and the new factory towns, determined to force through the reform of parlia-

mentary representation, took the chance offered by the distress of the working classes to

organize mass meetings of protest. At Birmingham a crowd elected a mock member of

Parliament. At sprawling Manchester 80,000 people staged an enormous demonstration at

St. Peter’s Fields in 1819; they demanded universal male suffrage, annual election of the

House of Commons, and the repeal of the Corn Laws. Although perfectly orderly they

were fi red upon by soldiers; 11 persons were killed and about 400 were

wounded, including 113 women. Radicals called this episode the Peterloo

massacre in derisive comparison with the battle of Waterloo.

Metternich intervenes

Economic crisis spurs

radicalism

The Peterloo massacre

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47955. The Leaking Dam and the Flood: International

The frightened government thanked the soldiers for their brave upholding of the social

order. Parliament rushed through the Six Acts (1819), which out-lawed “seditious and

blasphemous” literature, put a heavy stamp tax on newspapers, authorized the search of

private houses for arms, and rigidly restricted the right of public meeting. A group of revo-

lutionaries thereupon plotted to assassinate the whole cabinet at a dinner; they were caught

in Cato Street in London in 1820—whence the name “Cato Street Conspiracy.” Five

of them were hanged. Meanwhile, for publishing the writings of Thomas Paine, Richard

Carlisle spent seven years in prison.

“Our example,” wrote the Duke of Wellington to a Continental correspondent in 1819,

“will be of value in France and Germany, and it is to be hoped that the world will escape

from the general revolution with which we all seem to be threatened.”

In summary, the various European governments promoted reactionary policies every-

where they could reach in the years following the peace of 1815. The reaction was due

only in part to memories of the French Revolution. It was due even more to the living fear

of revolution in the present. This fear, though exaggerated, was no mere hallucination.

Sensing the rising fl ood, the established interests desperately built new barriers against it

in every country. The same is true of international politics at the time.

55. THE LEAKING DAM AND THE FLOOD: INTERNATIONAL

At the Congress of Vienna in 1814–1815 the powers agreed to hold meetings in the future

to enforce the treaty and take up new issues as they arose. A number of congresses of

the Great Powers resulted, which are of signifi cance as an early experimental step toward

German students celebrated their conception of German nationhood at a festival in 1817. Gathering near a castle at Wartburg where Martin Luther had once lived, they commemorated the beginning of the Protestant Reformation in 1517 and also burned books that were deemed hostile to German liberty. (akg-images/Newscom)

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Chapter 11 Industries, Ideas, and the Struggle for Reform, 1815–1848480

international regulation of European affairs. The congresses resembled, in a tentative and

partial way, the League of Nations that arose after the First World War of 1914–1918, or

the United Nations that followed after the war of 1939–1945, or the regular meetings of

political leaders as the European Union evolved in the early twenty-fi rst century. The pow-

ers had also, in 1815, in alarm after the return of Napoleon, subscribed to Alexander I’s

Holy Alliance, which became the popular term for the collaboration of the European states

in the congresses. The Holy Alliance, on the face of it a statement of Christian purpose and

international concord, gradually became an alliance for the suppression of revolutionary

and even liberal activity, following in that respect the trend of the governments that had

created it.

The “Peterloo Massacre” of 1819 was condemned in this caricature by the English artist George Cruikshank. A peaceable crowd gathered in St. Peter’s Fields, Manchester, to demand political reforms and repeal of the Corn Laws (which placed high tariffs on imported grains), but a militia of part-time soldiers opened fi re on the protesters, causing numerous casualties. The British government responded by commending the soldiers and passing new restrictions on public meetings. (George Cruikshank/The Bridgeman Art Library/Getty Images)

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481

The Congress of Aix-la-Chapelle, 1818

The fi rst general postwar assemblage of the powers took place at the Congress of

Aix-la-Chapelle (or Aachen) in 1818. The principal item on the agenda was to withdraw

the allied army of occupation from France. The French argued that Louis XVIII would

never be popular in France so long as he was supported by a foreign army. The other pow-

ers, because they all wanted the French to forget the past and accept the Bourbons, with-

drew their military forces without disagreement. They arranged also to have private bankers

take over the French reparations debt (the 700 million francs imposed by the second Treaty

of Paris); the bankers paid the allied governments, and the French in due time paid

the bankers.

Tsar Alexander was still the most advanced internationalist of the day.

He suggested at Aix-la-Chapelle a kind of permanent European union and

even proposed the maintenance of international military forces to safeguard

recognized states against changes by violence. Governments if thus reas-

sured against revolution, he argued, would more willingly grant constitutional and liberal

reforms. But the others demurred, especially the British foreign minister Lord Castle-

reagh. The British declared themselves willing to make international commitments against

specifi ed contingencies, such as a revival of aggression on the part of France. But they

would assume no obligations to act upon indefi nite and unforeseeable future events. They

reserved the right of independent judgment in foreign policy.

Concretely, the congress addressed itself to the problems of the Atlantic slave trade

and of the recurring attacks on commercial shipping by Barbary pirates in the Mediter-

ranean Sea. It was unanimously agreed that both should be suppressed. (Britian had abol-

ished the slave trade within the British Empire in 1807.) To suppress the slave trade and

piracy, however, required strong naval forces, which only the British possessed in adequate

amount, and it meant also that naval captains must be authorized to stop and search vessels

at sea. The continental states, always touchy on the subject of British sea power, refused

to countenance any such uses of the British fl eet. They feared for the freedom of the seas.

As for the British, they would not even discuss placing British warships in an international

naval pool or putting British squadrons under the authority of an international body. Noth-

ing therefore was done; the slave trade continued in much of the Atlantic world, booming

illicitly with the endless demand for cotton and other commodities; and the Barbary pirates

were not removed from the Mediterranean until the French launched a colonizing inva-

sion of Algeria in the early 1830s and took military control of this region along the North

African coast. The growth of international institutions was therefore blocked by the sepa-

rate interests of the sovereign states.

Revolution in Southern Europe: The Congress of Troppau, 1820

Scarcely had the Congress of Aix-la-Chapelle disbanded when revolutionary agitation

came to a crisis in southern Europe. It was not that revolutionary or liberal sentiment

was stronger here than in the north, but rather that the governments in question, those of

Spain, Naples, and the Ottoman Empire, were more ineffi cient, fl imsy, and corrupt. Many

of the revolutionaries were hardly more than middle-class liberals; indeed, the Spaniards,

as we have noted, were the fi rst to use the word “liberal” in this modern political sense.

Many of them had at fi rst accepted the Napoleonic occupation of Spain as a progressive

development but had then turned against it and proclaimed a new constitution in 1812,

modeled on the French revolutionary constitution of 1789–1791. After Napoleon’s fi nal

Alexander’s

internationalism

55. The Leaking Dam and the Flood: International

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Chapter 11 Industries, Ideas, and the Struggle for Reform, 1815–1848482

defeat they attempted to force the restored Bourbon kings of Spain and

Naples to adopt this constitution of 1812.

In 1820 the governments of both Spain and Naples collapsed with

remarkable ease before the demonstrations of revolutionaries. The kings

of both countries reluctantly took oaths to the Spanish constitution of 1812. But Metter-

nich saw the insurrections as the fi rst symptoms of a revolutionary seizure against which

Europe should be quarantined. It was a fact that revolutionary agitation was international,

easily leaping across frontiers, because of the operations of secret societies and of political

exiles and because in any case the same ideas had spread in all countries after the French

Revolution. Metternich considered Italy in particular to be within the legitimate sphere

of infl uence of the Austrian Empire. He therefore called a meeting of the Great Powers

at Troppau in the Austrian-controlled region in Silesia, hoping to use the authority of an

international congress to put down the revolution in Naples. The governments of Great

Britain and France, not eager to play Austria’s game, sent only observers to the congress.

Metternich’s main problem was, as usual, Alexander. What would be the attitude of the

liberal tsar, the friend and patron of constitutions, toward the idea of a constitutional mon-

archy in Naples? At an inn in Troppau Metternich and Alexander met alone, and there

held a momentous interview over the teacups. Metternich reviewed the horrors of revo-

lutionism, the unwisdom of granting any concessions lest revolutionaries be encouraged.

Alexander was already somewhat disillusioned by the ungrateful feelings of the Poles, and

the upheaval in Naples posed a new threat to his view of royal authority. He had always

believed that constitutions should be granted by legitimate sovereigns, not extorted from

them by revolutionaries, as had happened in Naples. He allowed himself to be persuaded

by Metternich. He declared that he had always been wrong and that Metternich had always

been right; and he announced himself ready to follow Metternich’s political judgment.

Thus fortifi ed, Metternich drew up a document, the protocol of Troppau, for consider-

ation and acceptance by the fi ve Great Powers. It held that all recognized European states

should be protected by collective international action, in the interests of general peace and

stability, from internal changes brought about by force. It was a statement of collective

security against revolution. Neither France nor Great Britain accepted it. Castlereagh wrote

to Metternich that if Austria felt its interests to be threatened in Naples it should intervene

in its own name only. The British Tories did not object to the repression of the Neapolitan

revolution, but they rejected the principle of a binding international collaboration. Metter-

nich could get only Russia and Prussia to endorse his protocol, in addition to Austria.

These three, acting as the Congress of Troppau, authorized Metternich to dispatch an

Austrian army into Naples. He did so; the Neapolitan revolutionaries were arrested or put

to fl ight; the incompetent and brutal Ferdinand I was restored as “absolute” king; the

demon of revolution was seemingly exorcised. But the Congress of Troppau, ostensibly a

Europewide international body, had in effect functioned as an antirevolu-

tionary alliance of Austria, Russia, and Prussia. A gap had opened between

the three Eastern autocracies and the two Western powers—even when the

latter consisted of Tories and Bourbons.

Spain and the Middle East: The Congress of Verona, 1822

Thousands of revolutionaries and liberals fl ed from the political terror raging in Italy. Many

went to Spain, now dreaded by conservatives as the main seat of revolutionary infection. The

Middle East also seemed about to ignite in confl agration. Alexander Ypsilanti, a Greek who

had spent his adult life in the military service of Russia, in 1821 led a band of armed followers

A gap opens between

East and West

Revolution in Spain

and Naples

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483

from Russia into Romania (then still a part of Ottoman Turkey), hoping that all Greeks and

pro-Greeks in the Ottoman Empire would join him. He expected Russian support, because

Russia had long wanted to use Greek Christians in a campaign to weaken its imperial rival in

the regions around the Black Sea. The possibility of an Ottoman Turkish Empire converted

into a “Greek” empire and dependent on Russia was naturally unpleasant to Metternich. To

deal with all these matters an international congress convened at Verona in 1822.

Alexander, in shifting from liberal to reactionary views, had not changed his belief in

the need for concerted international action. Had pure power politics determined his deci-

sions, he would doubtless have favored Ypsilanti’s Grecophile revolution.

But he stood by the principle of international solidarity against revolution-

ary violence. He refused to support Ypsilanti, who found less enthusiasm

for Greek culture among the Romanians and Balkan peoples than he had

expected and was soon defeated by the Turks. As for intervention to repress

the uprising in Greece itself, the question did not arise, because the Ottoman government

proved quite able for a time to handle the matter without assistance.

The question of the revolution in Spain was settled by foreign intervention. The Bour-

bon regime in France had no taste for a Spain in which revolutionaries, republicans, politi-

cal exiles, and members of secret societies might be harbored. The French government

proposed to the Congress of Verona that it be authorized to dispatch an army across the

Pyrenees. The Congress welcomed the offer, and despite many dire pre-

dictions of ruin, arising from memories of Napoleon’s Spanish disaster, a

French army of 200,000 men moved into Spain in 1823. The campaign

proved to be a military promenade through a cheering country. Spanish

liberals, constitutionalists, or revolutionaries were a helpless minority. The

mass of the people saw the invasion as a deliverance from Masons, Carbonari, and heretics

and shouted with satisfaction at the restoration of church and king. Ferdinand VII, unscru-

pulous and narrow-minded, repudiated his constitutional oath and let the most reactionary

Spaniards have their way. The revolutionaries were savagely persecuted, exiled, or jailed.

Latin American Independence

The Napoleonic wars and later political disturbances in Europe had wide-ranging reper-

cussions in all parts of America, where the European powers still controlled most of their

long-held colonial empires. While Great Britain was engaged against Napoleon, the United

States fought the inconclusive War of 1812 against its former mother country, and a few

years later, after minor military operations, obtained the cession of Florida from Spain.

During these same years, new movements for national independence emerged in Latin

America and used the turmoil in Europe as an opportunity to break free from the weaken-

ing Portuguese and Spanish empires. The Portuguese royal family, to escape Napoleon,

had taken refuge in its Brazilian Empire, becoming the only European monarchy ever to be

based in one of its colonies. When the dynasty was restored to power at Lisbon, however,

one of its members refused to leave Brazil, which emerged as a new “empire” independent

of Portugal; in 1889 the imperial regime gave way to a new Brazilian republic.

Spanish America reached over the enormous area from San Francisco to Buenos Aires.

Here, too, the thought of the Enlightenment, the news of the American and French revolu-

tions, the Napoleonic occupation of Spain, the French imprisonment of the Spanish king,

and the eventual restoration in 1814 of the Bourbon Ferdinand VII to the

Spanish throne all had their effects. The British had been commercially

active in Spanish America for over a century, and during the Napoleonic

Ypsilanti refused

support

The French invade

Spain

Motives for revolt

55. The Leaking Dam and the Flood: International

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Chapter 11 Industries, Ideas, and the Struggle for Reform, 1815–1848484

wars they had increased their exports to the Spanish Empire by twentyfold. There were thus

business interests in Spanish America that resisted any return to the old Spanish imperial

system of trade controls. More fundamental was the political and social resentment that

Creoles felt for the peninsulars. The Creoles were the white population of Spanish descent

born in America, and they found their ambitions blocked by the peninsulars who were sent

out from Spain to occupy the highest offi ces in the empire. In many places most of the

people were native Indians or mestizos of mixed Spanish and Indian origin, often living in

depressed economic conditions and far from the capital cities. The movement for indepen-

dence in most of Latin America therefore lacked the more widespread popular character

that it had developed in the British colonies that became the United States. It was mainly

led by Creoles who were active in municipal governments in the towns, though to achieve

their political goals the Creole leaders sometimes recruited supporters from other racial and

social groups. At times, the movement for independence also recruited some very conserva-

tive elements among large landowners and high churchmen. But the important leaders, such

as Simón Bolívar and José de San Martín, were men who had spent years in Europe and pre-

ferred the new constitutional principles of republicanism. In the end, despite their success in

gaining independence, they were generally unable to realize their other political aspirations

for their new countries. The dissensions that long continued to affl ict Spanish America were

all present within the independence movement itself.

Because of its vast extent, over 6,000 miles interrupted by mountain barriers, there

could be less unity in the liberation of Spanish America than had been possible, however

diffi cult, in the North American rebellion against England. There could be no Continental

Congress such as had met in Philadelphia in 1774. Revolts took place separately within the

great vice-royalties: New Spain (Mexico), New Granada (Colombia and Venezuela), Peru

(including Ecuador and most of Bolivia and Chile), and La Plata (Argentina, with claims

over what are now Uruguay and Paraguay).

The fi rst revolts were against Joseph Bonaparte after Napoleon made him king of

Spain in 1808. The rebels actually began their new political movements by proclaim-

ing their loyalty to the deposed Ferdinand VII, who, however, when restored in 1814,

refused to make any concessions to American demands, so that revolutionary sentiment

turned against him also. There followed a series of disconnected struggles between those

fi ghting for independence (with or without much internal change) and combinations of

offi cials, army offi cers, landowners, and churchmen who remained loyal to the Spanish

crown. Bolívar became the liberator of Venezuela and Colombia. San Martín became the

liberator of Argentina and Chile, and both combined in the liberation of Peru. In Mexico,

by way of exception, there was a true mass rising of Indians and mestizos, which was

put down by the middle- and upper-class Creole leaders. This conservative repression

of a more popular revolutionary movement led to a long period of turmoil in the newly

independent Mexican state, but Mexico was also the fi rst postcolonial nation after Haiti to

abolish slavery (1829); and it was by no means the only postcolonial society to face the

problems of internal confl icts, violence, or civil war. The United States soon plunged into

its own bitter civil war because of disputes over slavery and other divisive political prob-

lems. Meanwhile, much of Spanish America struggled with shifting national bound aries,

regional confl icts, attempted conquests, and various secessions. The political map of

South and Central America did not settle into its present form until later in the nineteenth

century. The transition from European colonial systems to the modern national states of

the Americas was therefore often as complicated or as violent as the postcolonial transi-

tions in nations that would later emerge from the twentieth-century European empires in

Asia and Africa.

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485

In addition to the recurring confl icts among themselves, the emerging Latin American

nations remained vulnerable to the imperial interventions of outside powers. L et us return

to the congress of European powers meeting in Verona in 1822. At the very time when a

French army suppressed the revolution in Spain, the revolutionaries in Spanish America

were declaring their independence. At Verona, Tsar Alexander urged the Congress to medi-

ate between Spain and its colonies. This was a euphemistic way of suggest-

ing military intervention in Spanish America, following the principle of

repressing revolutions that had been announced at Troppau. The British

objected. Even the Tory government favored revolutions that might break

up the Spanish Empire into independent states, with which free trade trea-

ties might be negotiated. Without at least benevolent neutrality from the

British fl eet no armed force could sail to America. The Spanish Americans therefore main-

tained their independence, thanks in part to the transatlantic infl uence of British sea power.

The new republics also received strong moral support from the United

States, which now declared its opposition to European colonial interven-

tions in the Americas. In December 1823 President James Monroe, in a mes-

sage to Congress, announced the “Monroe Doctrine.” It stated that attempts

by European powers to return parts of America to colonial status would be viewed as an

unfriendly act by the United States. The British foreign minister George Canning (who

had just succeeded Castlereagh) had at fi rst proposed a joint statement by Great Britain

and the United States against the eastern European powers on the Spanish-American

British favor Spanish-

American

independence

The Monroe Doctrine

Simón Bolívar (1783–1830) was known as “The Libera- tor” for his leadership of the South American revolution- ary movements. He had lived in Europe, where he was strongly infl uenced by the political ideas of the French Revolution. Although his revo- lutionary campaigns secured the independence of several new nations, Bolívar’s attempts to establish stable, constitu- tional governments were gener- ally stymied during the 1820s. (Hulton Archive/Getty Images)

55. The Leaking Dam and the Flood: International

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Chapter 11 Industries, Ideas, and the Struggle for Reform, 1815–1848486

question. President Monroe, at the advice of his secretary of state, John Quincy Adams,

decided instead to make a unilateral statement in the form of a message to Congress. They

intended to aim their “doctrine” at Great Britain as well as the Continental states, because

Britain, with its command of the sea, was in fact the only European power that could actu-

ally threaten the independence of American states at this time. Canning, having no such

threats in mind, and concerned more with the Congress of Verona, accepted the new inter-

national assertiveness from the United States. Indeed, he declared with a fl ourish that he

had “called the New World into existence to redress the balance of the Old.” The Monroe

Doctrine, at its inception, was a kind of counterblast to the Metternich doctrine of the pro-

tocol of Troppau. Where the latter announced a European principle of intervention against

revolutions, the Monroe Doctrine announced that revolutions in America, if they resulted

in regimes recognized by the United States, were outside the attention or control of Euro-

pean powers. In any case, the effi cacy of the Monroe Doctrine long depended on the tacit

cooperation of the British fl eet.

Over 300 years of European colonial empires in America thus came to an end, with

few exceptions, in the half-century after 1776. One exception was Canada, where mem-

bership in the British Empire was voluntary, at least for the English-speaking inhabitants,

and where both the English and French Canadians resisted threats of annexation by the

United States. The other exceptions were in the West Indies, where Haiti was independent,

but where the smaller islands remained British, French, or Dutch; and the large islands of

Cuba and Puerto Rico remained Spanish until the United States expanded its own imperial

ambitions in the Spanish-American War of 1898.

The End of the Congress System

After the Congress of Verona no more such meetings were held. The attempt at a for-

mal international regulation of European affairs was given up. In the broadest retrospect,

the congresses failed to make progress toward an international order because, especially

after Alexander’s conversion to Metternich’s conservatism, they came to stand for nothing

except preservation of the status quo. They made no attempt at accommodation with the

new forces that were shaping Europe, so they could not evolve into a modern transnational

system for managing confl icts or social change. It was not the policy of these congresses

to forestall revolution by demanding that governments institute reforms. They simply

repressed or punished all revolutionary agitation. They propped up governments that could

not stand on their own feet.

In any case the congresses never succeeded in subordinating the separate interests of

the Great Powers. Perhaps Alexander’s repudiation of Ypsilanti was a sacrifi ce of Russian

advantage to international principle; but when the Austrian government intervened to crush

the revolution in Naples, and when the French government crushed the revolution in Spain,

though in both cases they acted with an international mandate, each was really promoting

what it conceived to be its own interests. The interest of Great Britain was to pull away from

the system entirely and to stand aloof from permanent international commitments. British

leaders such as Castlereagh and Canning sought to preserve the free exercise of sea power

and foreign policy, and they were more willing to take a benevolent view toward revolution

in other countries. Because France gradually pulled away also, the Holy

Alliance became no more than a counterrevolutionary league of the three

East European autocracies. The cause of liberalism in Europe was thus

advanced by the collapse of this highly conservative international system.

Liberalism advances

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48756. The Breakthrough of Liberalism in the West: Revolutions of 1830–1832

At the same time, however, the collapse of this international system opened the way to the

uncontrolled nationalism of the sovereign states. “Things are getting back to a wholesome

state again,” wrote George Canning in 1822. “Every nation for itself and God for us all!”

Russia: The Decembrist Revolt, 1825

Alexander I, “the man who defeated Napoleon,” the ruler who had led his armies from

Moscow to Paris, who had frightened European diplomats by the Russian shadow that he

threw over the Continent, and who yet in his way had been the great pillar of constitutional

liberalism and international order, died in 1825. His death was the signal for revolution in

Russia. Offi cers of the Russian army, during the campaigns of 1812–1815 in Europe, had

become acquainted with many unsettling ideas. Secret societies were formed even in the

Russian offi cer corps; their members held all sorts of confl icting ideas, some wanting a

constitutional tsardom in Russia, some demanding a republic, some even dreaming of an

emancipation of the serfs. When Alexander died it was for a time uncertain which of his

two brothers, Constantine or Nicholas, should succeed him. The restless coteries in the

army preferred Constantine, who was the older brother and who was thought to be more

favorable to innovations in the state. In December 1825 they proclaimed Constantine at St.

Petersburg, having their soldiers shout “Constantine and Constitution!”

But the fact was that Constantine had already renounced his claims in

favor of Nicholas, who was thus the rightful heir. The uprising, known as the

Decembrist revolt, was soon put down. Five of the mutinous offi cers were

hanged; many others were condemned to forced labor or interned in Siberia.

The Decembrist revolt was the fi rst manifestation of the modern revolutionary movement in

Russia—of a revolutionary movement inspired by an ideological program, as distinguished

from the elemental mass upheavals of Pugachev or Stephen Razin in earlier times. But

the immediate effect of the Decembrist revolt was to clamp repression upon Russia more

fi rmly. Nicholas I (1825–1855) maintained an unconditional and despotic autocracy.

Ten years after the defeat of Napoleon the new forces issuing from the French Revo-

lution seemed to be routed, and reaction, repression, and political immobility seemed to

prevail everywhere in Europe. A massive, conservative dam had sprung some political and

social leaks, but during most of the 1820s it seemed to be containing the fl ood.

56. THE BREAKTHROUGH OF LIBERALISM IN THE WEST: REVOLUTIONS OF 1830–1832

The reactionary dam broke open in 1830, and in western Europe the stream thereafter

never stopped. The seepage, indeed, had already begun. By 1825 Spanish America was

independent; the British and the French had pulled away from the congress system; and the

Greek nationalist movement against the Turks had become a popular liberal cause across

all of western Europe.

With the defeat of Ypsilanti in 1821 the Greek nationalists turned somewhat away

from the idea of a neo-Greek empire and began promoting the idea of independence for

Greece proper, the islands and peninsulas where Greek was the predominant language.

Tsar Nicholas was more willing than Alexander to assist this movement. The governments

of Great Britain and France were not inclined to let Russia stand as the only champion of

Balkan peoples. Moreover, liberals in the West thought of the embattled Greeks as ancient

Athenians fi ghting the modern despotism of an unenlightened Ottoman Turkish Empire.

Constantine and

Nicholas

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Chapter 11 Industries, Ideas, and the Struggle for Reform, 1815–1848488

The result of these converging interests and ideas was a joint Anglo-French-Russian

naval intervention, which destroyed the Turkish fl eet off the Greek coast at Navarino Bay

in 1827. Russia again, as often in the past, sent armies into the Balkans. A Russo-Turkish

war and a great Middle Eastern crisis followed, in the course of which the rival powers

agreed in 1829 to recognize Greece as an independent kingdom. The Balkan states of Serbia,

Wallachia, and Moldavia were also recognized as autonomous principalities within the badly

shaken Ottoman Empire (see map p. 661). From the same crisis Egypt emerged as an autono-

mous region under Mehemet Ali and in time became a center of Arabic nationalism, which

reduced Ottoman power in the south just as Balkan nationalism did in the north.

France, 1824–1830: The July Revolution, 1830

It was in 1830, and fi rst of all in France, that the wall of reaction really collapsed. Charles

X became king in 1824. In the next year the legislative chambers voted an indemnity, in the

form of perpetual annuities totaling 30 million francs a year, to those who as émigrés thirty-

odd years before had lost their property to confi scations by the revolutionary state. Catholic

clergy began to take over classrooms in the schools. A law pronounced the death penalty

for sacrilege committed in church buildings. But the France of the restored Bourbons still

had a mostly free public sphere for political and cultural debates; and against these appar-

ent efforts to revive the Old Regime a strong opposition developed in the newspapers and

in the chambers. In March 1830 the Chamber of Deputies, in which the bankers Laffi tte

and Casimier-Périer led the “leftist” opposition, passed a vote of no confi dence in the gov-

ernment. The king, as was his legal right, dissolved the Chamber and called for new

elections. The elections produced clear majorities for those who repudiated the king’s poli-

cies. He replied on July 26, 1830, with four ordinances issued on his own authority. One

dissolved the newly elected Chamber before it had ever met; another imposed censorship

on the press; the third so amended the suffrage as to reduce the voting power of bankers,

merchants, and industrialists and to concentrate it in the hands of the old-fashioned aristoc-

racy; the fourth called for an election on the new basis.

These July Ordinances provoked on the very next day the July Revolution. The

bourgeois liberals were enraged by their brazen ouster from political life. But it was the

republicans—the nucleus of revolutionary workers, students, and intelligentsia in Paris—

who actually moved. For three days, from July 27 to 29, barricades were erected in the city,

behind which a swarming populace defi ed the army and the police. Some

of the protestors were killed, but most of the army refused to fi re. Charles

X, in no mood to be made captive by a revolution like his long-dead brother

Louis XVI, precipitately abdicated and headed for England.

A few of the leaders now wished to proclaim a democratic republic. Working people

hoped for better conditions of employment. The political liberals, however, supported by

bankers, industrialists, various journalists, and intellectuals, had other aims. They had been

satisfi ed in general with the constitutional charter of 1814; it was only to the policies and

personnel of the government that they had objected, and they wished now to continue with

constitutional monarchy, somewhat liberalized, and with a king whom they could trust. A

solution to the deadlock was found by Lafayette, the aging hero of the American and the

French revolutions, who became commander of the reorganized National Guard and a

popular symbol of national unity. Lafayette brought the Duke of Orleans onto the balcony

of the Paris Hôtel de Ville, embraced him before a great concourse of people, and offered

him as the answer to France’s need. The duke was a collateral relative of the Bourbons; he

had also, as a young man, served in the republican army of 1792 and had later lived for a

Charles X abdicates

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489

time as an exile in the United States. The militant republicans accepted him, willing to see

what would develop; and the Chamber of Deputies on August 7 offered him the throne, on

condition that he observe faithfully the constitutional charter of 1814. He reigned, until

1848, under the title of Louis Philippe, king of the French.

The regime of Louis Philippe, called the Orléanist, bourgeois, or July

Monarchy, was viewed very differently by different groups in France and

in Europe. To the other states of Europe and to the clergy and legitimists

within France, it seemed shockingly revolutionary. The new king owed his throne to an

insurrection, to a bargain made with republicans, and to promises made to the Chamber

of Deputies. He called himself not king of France but king of the French, and he fl ew the

tricolor fl ag of the Revolution in place of the Bourbon lily. He cultivated a popular man-

ner, wore sober dark clothing (the ancestor of the modern business suit), and carried an

umbrella. Though in private he worked stubbornly to maintain his royal position, in public

he adhered scrupulously to the constitution.

The constitution remained substantially what it had been in 1814. The main political

change was one of tone; there would be no more absolutism, with its notion that constitu-

tional guarantees could be abrogated by a reigning prince. Legally the main change was

that the Chamber of Peers ceased to be hereditary, to the chagrin of the old nobility, and

that the Chamber of Deputies was to be elected by a somewhat enlarged body of voters.

Where before 1830 there had been 100,000 voters, there were now about 200,000. The

right to vote was still based on the ownership of a considerable quantity of real estate.

About one-thirtieth of the adult male population (the top thirtieth in the possession of

real property) now elected the Chamber of Deputies. The benefi ciaries of the new system

were the upper bourgeoisie—the bankers, merchants, and industrialists. The big property

owners constituted the pays légal, the “legal country,” and to them the July Monarchy was the consummation and stopping place of political progress. To others, and especially to the

radical democrats, it proved as the years passed to be a disillusionment and an annoyance

to which they would respond with new forms of political agitation.

Revolutions of 1830: Belgium and Poland

The immediate effect of the three-day Paris revolution of 1830 was to set off a series of

similar explosions throughout Europe, most notably in Belgium and Poland. These in turn,

coming after the collapse of the Bourbons in France, brought the whole peace settlement of

1815 into jeopardy. It will be recalled that the Congress of Vienna had joined Belgium

with the Dutch Netherlands to create a strong buffer state against a resurgent France and

had also done what it could to prevent direct Russian intervention in central Europe by

way of Poland. Both these arrangements were now undone.

The Dutch-Belgium union proved economically benefi cial, for Bel-

gian industry complemented the commercial and shipping activity of the

Dutch, but politically it worked poorly, especially because the Dutch king

had absolutist and centralizing ideas. The Belgians, though they had never

been independent, had always stood stiffl y for their local liberties under for-

mer Austrian rulers (and Spanish before them); now they did the same against the Dutch.

The Catholic Belgians disliked Dutch Protestantism; those Belgians who spoke French (the

Walloons) objected to regulations requiring the use of Dutch. About a month after the July

Revolution in Paris disturbances broke out in Brussels. The leaders asked only for local

Belgian self-government, but when the king took arms against them, they went on to pro-

claim political independence. A Belgian National Assembly met and drafted a constitution.

The July Monarchy

The benefi ts of the

Dutch-Belgian union

56. The Breakthrough of Liberalism in the West: Revolutions of 1830–1832

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Chapter 11 Industries, Ideas, and the Struggle for Reform, 1815–1848490

Nicholas of Russia wished to send troops to stamp out the Belgian

uprising. But he could not get his forces safely through Poland. In Poland,

too, in 1830, a revolution broke out. The Polish nationalists saw in the

fall of the French Bourbons a timely moment for them to strike. They objected also to

the appearance of Russian troops bound presumably to suppress freedom in western

Europe. One incident led to another, until in January 1831 the Polish diet proclaimed the

dethronement of the Polish king (i.e., Nicholas), who thereupon sent in a large army. The

Poles, outnumbered and divided among themselves, could not put up a successful resis-

tance. They obtained no support from the West. The British government was unsettled by

agitation at home. The French government, newly installed under Louis Philippe, had no

wish to appear disturbingly revolutionary, and in any case feared the Polish agents who

sought its backing as international fi rebrands and republicans. The Polish revolution was

therefore crushed. Congress Poland disappeared; its constitution was abrogated, and it was

LIBERTY LEADING THE PEOPLE by Eugène Delacroix (French, 1798–1863)

Delacroix, a founder of the romantic school in nineteenth-century French art, painted this pic- ture soon after the July Revolution in Paris in 1830. It well illustrates the idealistic conception of revolution that prevailed among revolutionaries before 1848. Revolution is shown as a noble and moral act on behalf of the abstract ideals of liberty. The fi gures express determination and courage but show no sign of hatred or even anger. They are not a class; they are the people, affi rming the rights of man. Liberty, holding the tricolor aloft, is a composed and even rational goddess. (Erich Lessing/Art Resource, NY)

Revolution in Poland

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491

merged into the Russian Empire. Thousands of Polish exiles settled in western Europe,

where they became familiar fi gures in republican circles. In Poland the engines of repres-

sion rolled. The tsar’s government sent thousands of Poles to Siberia, began to Russify

the Eastern Border, and closed the universities of Warsaw and Vilna. Because the Polish

revolution prevented the tsar from moving toward a possible intervention in Belgium, it

may be said that the sacrifi ce of the Poles contributed to the success of the West European

revolution of 1830, as it had to that of the French Revolution of 1789–1795.

It was true enough, as Nicholas maintained, that an independent Belgium presented

great international problems. Belgium for 20 years before 1815 had been part of France.

A few Belgians now favored reunion with it, and in France the republican left, which

regarded the Vienna treaty as an insult to the French nation, saw an opportunity to win

back this fi rst and dearest conquest of the First Republic. In 1831, by a small majority, the

Belgian National Assembly elected as their king the son of Louis Philippe, who, however,

not wishing trouble with the British, forbade his son to accept it. The Belgians thereupon

elected Leopold of Saxe-Coburg, a German princeling who had married into the British

royal family and become a British subject. He was in fact the uncle of a 12-year-old girl

who was to be Queen Victoria. The British negotiated with Talleyrand, sent over by the

French government (it was his last public service); and the result was a treaty setting up

Belgium as a perpetually neutral state, incapable of forming alliances and guaranteed

against invasion by all fi ve of the Great Powers. The aim intended by the Treaty of Vienna,

to prevent the annexation of Belgium to France, was thus again realized in a new way.

Internally Belgium settled down to a stable parliamentary system, somewhat more

democratic than the July Monarchy in France but fundamentally offering the same type of

bourgeois and liberal rule.

Reform in Great Britain

The three-day Paris revolution of 1830 had direct repercussions across the Channel. The

quick results following on working-class insurrection gave radical leaders in England the

idea that threats of violence might be useful. On the other hand, the ease and speed with

which the French bourgeoisie gained the upper hand reassured the British middle classes,

who concluded that they might unsparingly embarrass the government without courting a

mass upheaval.

The Tory regime in England had in fact already begun to loosen up.

A group of more liberal Tory leaders came forward in the 1820s, notably

George Canning, the foreign minister, and Robert Peel, son of one of the fi rst

cotton manufacturers. This group was sensitive to the needs of British business and to the

liberal doctrines of free trade. They reduced tariffs and liberalized the old Navigation Acts,

permitting British colonies to trade with countries other than Britain. The Liberal Tories

also undermined the legal position of the Church of England, forwarding the conception of

a secular state, though such was hardly their purpose. They repealed the old laws (which

dated from the seventeenth century) forbidding dissenting Protestants to hold public offi ce

except through a legal fi ction by which they pretended to be Anglicans. They even allowed

the Test Act of 1673 to be repealed and Catholic Emancipation to be adopted. Catholics

in Great Britain and Ireland received the same rights as others. Capital punishment was

abolished for about a hundred offenses. A professional police force was introduced in place

of the old-fashioned and ineffectual local constables. (It is after Robert Peel that London

policemen came to be called “bobbies.”) The new police were expected to handle protest

meetings, angry crowds, or occasional riots without having to call for military assistance.

The Tory regime

56. The Breakthrough of Liberalism in the West: Revolutions of 1830–1832

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Chapter 11 Industries, Ideas, and the Struggle for Reform, 1815–1848492

Despite their willingness to introduce moderate reforms, there were two things that the

Liberal Tories could not do. They could not question the Corn Laws, and they could not

change the elite membership in the House of Commons. By the Corn Laws, which set the

tariff on imported grain, a tariff raised to new heights in 1815, the gentlemen of England

protected their rent rolls; and by the existing structure of the House of Commons they gov-

erned the country, expecting the working class and the business interests to look to them as

natural leaders.

Never in 500 years of its history had the Commons been so unrepresentative. No

new borough had been created since the Revolution of 1688. The boroughs, or urban cen-

ters having the right to elect members of Parliament, were heavily concentrated in south-

ern England. Although the Industrial Revolution was shifting population

noticeably to the north, the new factory towns were not represented in Par-

liament. In a few boroughs real elections took place, but in some of them it

was the town corporation, and in others the owners of certain pieces of real

estate, that had the right to name members of Parliament. Many boroughs

were entirely dominated by infl uential persons called borough-mongers by their critics. As

for the rural districts, the “forty-shilling freeholders” chose two members of Parliament for

each county, in a convivial assembly much infl uenced by the gentlefolk. It was estimated

about 1820 that fewer than 500 men, most of them members of the House of Lords, really

selected a majority of the House of Commons.

Some two dozen bills to reform the House of Commons had been introduced in the

half-century preceding 1830. They had all failed to pass. In 1830, after the Paris revolu-

tion, the issue was again raised by the minority party, the Whigs. The Tory prime minister,

the Duke of Wellington, the victor of Waterloo and a most extreme conservative, so

immoderately defended the existing system that he lost the confi dence even of some of his

own followers. The existing methods of election in England, he declared, were more per-

fect than any that human intelligence could contrive at a single stroke. After this outburst a

Whig ministry took over the government. It introduced a reform bill. The House of Com-

mons rejected it. The Whig ministry thereupon resigned. The Tories, fearing popular vio-

lence, refused to take the responsibility for forming a cabinet. The Whigs resumed offi ce

and again introduced their reform bill. This time it passed the Commons but failed in the

House of Lords. An angry roar went up over the country. Crowds milled in the London

streets, rioters for several days were in control at Bristol, the jail at Derby was sacked, and

Nottingham castle was burned. Only the passage of the reform bill, it seemed, could pre-

vent an actual revolution. Using this argument, the Whigs got the king to promise to create

enough new peers to change the majority in the House of Lords. The Lords yielded rather

than be swamped, and in April 1832 the bill became law.

The Reform Bill of 1832 was a very English measure. It adapted the

English or medieval system rather than following the new ideas of the

French Revolution. On the Continent, constitutional political systems in

countries such as France rested on the idea that each representative should

represent roughly the same number of voters and that voters should qualify to vote by a

fl at uniform qualifi cation, usually the payment of a stated amount of property taxes. The

British held to the idea that members of the House of Commons represented boroughs and

counties, in general without regard to size of population (with exceptions). In other words,

no attempt was made to create equal electoral districts, and the vote was still distributed

in the reformed boroughs and counties on the basis of economic status, reliability, and

permanence. The total effect on the size of the electorate was to raise the number of vot-

ers in the British Isles from about 500,000 to about 813,000. Some persons actually lost

Problems of

representation

The Reform Bill of

1832

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493

their votes, namely, the poorer elements in the handful of old boroughs that had been fairly

democratic, like the borough of Westminster in greater London.

The most important change was not the increased size of the electorate but its redistri-

bution by region and by class. The Reform Bill reallocated the seats in the House of Com-

mons, moving more than 140 parliamentary seats from small, older boroughs to the new

industrial towns. Many previously excluded middle-class men in the growing northern

cities gained the right to vote—factory owners and businessmen and their principal

employees, doctors, lawyers, brokers, merchants, and newspaper people, relatives and

connections of the well-to-do.

The Reform Bill of 1832 was more sweeping than the Whigs would have favored

except for their fear or revolution. It was more conservative than the demo-

cratic radicals would have accepted, except for their belief that the suffrage

might be widened in the future. Whether Great Britain in 1830 was in dan-

ger of any real revolution can never be known. A distressed mass of work-

ers was led by an irate manufacturing class that was unwilling to tolerate

any longer its exclusion from political life, yet neither the workers nor the industrialists

turned toward violence and revolution. The reason probably lies fi rst of all in the existence

of the historic institution of Parliament, which, erratic though it was before the Reform

Bill, provided the means by which social changes could be legally accomplished and con-

tinued, in principle, to enjoy universal respect. Conservatives, driven to the wall, would

yield; they could allow a revision of the suffrage because they could expect to remain

themselves in public life. Radicals, using enough violence to scare the established interest,

did not thereafter face a blank wall; they could expect, once the breach was made, to carry

some day a further democratization of Parliament and with it their social and economic

program by orderly legislation.

Britain after 1832

But the British Reform Bill of 1832 was in its way a revolution. The new business inter-

ests, created by industrialization, now took their place alongside the old aristocracy in the

governing elite of the country. The aristocratic Whigs who had carried the Reform Bill

gradually merged with formerly radical industrialists and with a few Liberal Tories to form

the Liberal Party. The main body of the Tories, joined by a few old Whigs and even a few

former radicals, gradually turned into the Conservative Party. The two parties alternated in

power at short intervals from 1832 to the First World War, this being the classic period in

Great Britain of the Liberal-Conservative two-party system and a period in

which numerous political and social reforms would be enacted.

In 1833 slavery was abolished in the British Empire. In 1834 a new

Poor Law was adopted. In 1835 the Municipal Corporations Act, second

only to the Reform Bill in basic importance, modernized the local gov-

ernment of English cities; it broke up the old local oligarchies and brought in uniform

electoral and administrative machinery, enabling city dwellers to grapple more effec-

tively with the problems of urban life. In 1836 the House of Commons allowed the

newspapers to report how its members voted—a long step toward publicity of govern-

ment proceedings was thus taken. Meanwhile an ecclesiastical commission reviewed

the affairs of the Church of England; fi nancial and administrative irregularities were

corrected, together with the grosser inequalities between the income of upper and lower

clergy, all of which had made the church formerly a kind of closed preserve for the

landed gentry.

The ambiguous

impact of reform

Liberals and

Conservatives

56. The Breakthrough of Liberalism in the West: Revolutions of 1830–1832

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Chapter 11 Industries, Ideas, and the Struggle for Reform, 1815–1848494

The Tories, thus assaulted in their immemorial strongholds of local government and the

established church, carried a counteroffensive into the strongholds of the

new liberal manufacturing class, namely, the factories and the mines. Tories

whose own wealth still depended on ownership of land became champions of

the industrial workers. Landed gentlemen, of whom the most famous was

Lord Ashley, later seventh Earl of Shaftesbury, took the lead in publicizing

the social evils of a rapid and even ruthless industrialization. They received some support

from a few humanitarian industrialists; indeed, the early legislation tended to follow prac-

tices already established by the best or strongest business fi rms. A Factory Act of 1833 for-

bade the labor of children less than 9 years old in the textile mills. It was the fi rst effective

piece of legislation on the subject because it provided for paid inspectors and procedures for

enforcement. An act of 1842 initiated signifi cant regulation in the coal mines; the employ-

ment underground of women and girls, and of boys under ten, was forbidden.

The greatest victory of the working classes came in 1847 with the Ten Hours Act, which

limited the labor of women and children in all industrial establishments to ten hours a day.

Thereafter men commonly worked only ten hours also, because the work of men, women, and

young people was too closely coordinated in factories for the men to work alone. The Liberal

John Bright, Quaker and cotton magnate, called the Ten Hours Act “a delusion practiced on

the working classes.” Many such industrialists believed that regulation of the hours of labor

was contrary to the accepted principles of laissez-faire, economic law, the free market, free-

dom of trade, and individual liberty for employer and worker. Yet the Ten

Hours Act stood, and British industry continued to prosper.

Gathering their strength, the Whig-liberal-radical combination estab-

lished in 1838 an Anti-Corn Law League. Wage earners objected to the

The Tory

counteroffensive

The Anti–Corn Law

League

CHRONOLOGY OF NOTABLE EVENTS, 1780–1869

1780s Mechanical spinning of cotton spreads across England

1792 Mary Wollstonecraft publishes A Vindication of the Rights of Women

1807 Robert Fulton uses the steam engine to propel river boats

1819 “Peterloo Massacre” suppresses protesting English workers in Manchester

1819 Metternich’s “Carlsbad Decrees” suppress the German nationalist movement

1820 Congress of Troppau calls for international action against all revolutions

1823 Monroe Doctrine opposes European intervention in Latin America

1825 Decembrist Revolt of military offi cers is put down in Russia

1829 Steam locomotive is tested safely in England

1830 July Revolution in France forces abdication of Charles X; Louis-Philippe

becomes “king of the French”

1831 Russia suppresses national movement in Poland

1832 Reform Bill widens British suffrage; alters representation in Parliament

1839 Louis Blanc’s Organization of Work promotes new socialist ideas

1846 Repeal of Corn Laws marks ascendancy of British industrial interests

1869 John Stuart Mill argues for women’s rights in The Subjection of Women

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49557. Triumph of the West European Bourgeoisie

Corn Laws because the tariff on grain imports kept up the price of food. Industrial employ-

ers also objected to them because, in keeping up food prices, they drove up wages and

the cost of industrial production in England, thus working to England’s disadvantage in

the export trade. Defenders of the Corn Laws argued that protection of agriculture was

necessary to maintain the natural landowning aristocracy of the country, but they also

sometimes used more widely framed economic arguments, affi rming that Britain should

preserve an economic balance between industry and farming and avoid becoming too

exclusively dependent on imported food. The issue became a straight contest between the

industrialists, acting with working-class support, and the aristocratic and predominantly

Tory landowning interest. The Anti–Corn Law League, whose headquarters were at Man-

chester, operated like a modern political party. It had plenty of money, supplied by large

donations from manufacturers and small ones from laboring people. It sent lecturers on

tour, agitated in the newspapers, and issued a stream of polemical pamphlets and educa-

tional books. It held political teas, torchlight processions, and open-air mass meetings.

The pressure proved irresistible and received a fi nal impetus from a famine in Ireland.

It was a Tory government, headed by Sir Robert Peel, which in 1846 yielded before so

vociferous a demand.

The repeal of the Corn Laws in 1846 stands as a symbol of the change that had come

over England. It reaffi rmed the revolutionary consequences of the Reform Bill of 1832.

Industry was now a governing element in the country. Free trade was henceforth the rule.

Great Britain, in return for the export of manufacturers, became deliberately dependent on

imports for its very life. It was committed henceforth to an international and even world-

wide economic system in which tariffs would remain low or be abolished. The fi rst to

undergo the Industrial Revolution, possessing mechanical power and methods of mass pro-

duction, the British could produce yarn and cloth, machine tools and railroad equipment,

more effi ciently and more cheaply than any other people. In Britain, the early industrial

workshop of the world, people would pour increasingly into mine, factory, and city; live

by selling manufactures, coal, shipping, and fi nancial services to the other peoples of the

earth; and obtain raw cotton, rare ores, meat, cereals, and thousands of lesser but still vital

necessities from the rest of the earth in exchange. The welfare of Britain depended on the

maintenance of a freely exchanging worldwide economic system and, as always, on the

British navy’s control of the sea.

57. TRIUMPH OF THE WEST EUROPEAN BOURGEOISIE

In general, the decades following 1830 may be thought of as a kind of golden age of the

western European bourgeoisie, or what in English would be called the upper middle class.

In the older meaning, in French, a bourgeois had been a townsperson who was not of the nobility but enjoyed an income from business, a profession, or the ownership of property.

After the French Revolution, and even more after 1830, the word took on new meanings,

not all of them consistent. Artists, literary people, and old-line aristocrats might disdain the

bourgeois as a person of uncultivated tastes, supposedly interested only in making money.

From another point of view, shared by social theorists and working-class leaders, the bour-

geois was someone who could hire the labor of other people for business enterprises,

recreational activities, or household service. In a word, the bourgeois was the employer. The

nineteenth-century bourgeoisie and aristocracy tended to become more alike in their daily

pursuits and style of life, and to draw income from the possession of income-producing

property or capital. The bourgeoisie, formerly identifi ed in contrast to the nobility, was

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Chapter 11 Industries, Ideas, and the Struggle for Reform, 1815–1848496

now identifi ed in contrast to the working class, that is, those whose whole income depended

on daily labor in shops, offi ces, farms, or factories.

The reigning liberal doctrine was the “stake in society” theory; those who

govern should have something to lose. In the France of the July Monarchy

(1830–1848), only about one adult male in 30 had the vote. In the Britain of

the fi rst Reform Bill (1832–1867), one man in eight could vote for a member

of the House of Commons. In France only the most well-to-do were enfranchised; in Britain,

virtually the whole middle class, which, however, long supported members of the aristocracy

for the highest public positions. In Britain the continuation of the Tory landed interest in poli-

tics somewhat blunted the edge of capitalist and managerial rule, resulting in the passage of

signifi cant legislation for the protection of industrial labor. In France the aristocratic landed

interest, already weaker and less public spirited than in England, lost most of its infl uence

after the Revolution of 1830, and less was done to relieve the condition of labor.

The bourgeois age left its mark on Europe in many ways. For one thing, western Europe

continued to accumulate capital and build up its industrial plant. National income was con-

stantly rising, but a relatively small share went to the laboring class and a relatively large share

went to owners of capital. This meant that less was spent on consumers’ goods—housing,

clothing, food, recreation—and that more was saved and available for reinvestment. New stock

companies were constantly formed, and the law of corporations was amended, allowing for the

extension of corporate enterprise to new fi elds. The factory system spread from Britain to the

Continent and within Britain from the textile industry to other lines of production. The output

of iron, a good index to economic advancement in this phase of industrialism, rose about 300

percent in Great Britain between 1830 and 1848 and about 65 percent in France between 1830

and 1845. (All the German states combined, at the latter date, produced about a tenth as much

iron as Great Britain and less than half as much as France.) Railroad building began in earnest

after 1840. In 1840 Samuel Cunard put four steamships into regular transatlantic service. Much

capital was exported; as early as 1839 an American estimated that Europeans (mainly British)

owned $200,000,000 worth of stocks in American companies. Such investments fi nanced the

purchase of British and other goods and helped to rivet together a world economic system, in

which western Europe and especially England took the lead, with other regions remaining in a

somewhat subordinate status.

The Frustration and Challenge of Labor

The bourgeois age had the effect also of estranging the world of labor. The state in Britain

and France was as near as it has ever been to what Karl Marx was soon to call it—a com-

mittee of the bourgeois class. Already in France people spoke worriedly of the prolétaires, those at the bottom of society, who had nothing to lose. Republicans in France, radical

democrats in Britain, felt cheated and imposed upon in the 1830s and 1840s. They had in

each country forced through a virtual revolution by their insurrections and demonstrations

and then in each country had been left without the vote. Some lost interest in representative

institutions. Excluded from government, they were tempted to seek political ends through

extragovernmental, which is to say revolutionary or utopian, channels. Social and eco-

nomic reforms seemed to the average worker far more important, as a fi nal aim, than mere

governmental innovations. Workers were told by respected economists that they could not

hope to change the fundamental processes of the economic system in their own favor. They

were tempted, therefore, to destroy the system and to replace it utterly with some new sys-

tem conceived mainly in the minds of thinkers. They were told by the Manchester School,

“Stake in society”

theory

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497

BIG INVESTMENTS by Honoré Daumier (French, 1808–1879)

The Revolution of 1830, romanticized at fi rst by Delacroix and most European liberals, was in fact followed by a period of moneymaking and business ferment (as well as rapid economic development), made famous by the novels of Balzac and the graphic art of Daumier. This lithograph of 1837 shows a fi nancier with bundles of stock certifi cates piled beside him, offer- ing to sell shares in factories, foundries, and breweries to a skeptical client. Daumier’s satirical images provided vivid, memorable critiques of the corruptions and hypocrisies in nineteenth- century political and economic life. (Bibliothèque Nationale de France)

57. Triumph of the West European Bourgeoisie

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Chapter 11 Industries, Ideas, and the Struggle for Reform, 1815–1848498

and by its equivalent in France, that the income of labor was set by ineluctable natural laws,

that it was best and indeed necessary for wages to remain low, and that the way to rise in

the world was to get out of the laboring class altogether, by becoming the owner of a profi t-

able business and leaving working people about where they were.

The reigning doctrine emphasized the conception of a labor market. The

worker sold labor; the employer bought it. The price of labor, or wage, was

to be agreed upon by the two individual parties. The price would naturally

fl uctuate according to changes in supply and demand. When a great deal of a certain kind of

labor was required, the wage would go up until new persons moved into the market offering

more labor of this type, with the result that something like the old wage would again be

established. When no labor was needed, none should be hired, and persons

who could not sell labor might then subsist for a time by poor relief.

The new British Poor Law of 1834 was especially repugnant to the

British working class. It corrected crying evils of the old poor laws that had

left millions of people in habitual poverty but did nothing constructive to

relieve productive workers suffering from the poverty of occasional or cyclical unemploy-

ment. The new law followed the stern precepts of the dismal science; its main principle was

to safeguard the labor market by making relief more unpleasant than any job. It granted relief

only to persons willing to enter a workhouse, or poorhouse; and in these establishments the

sexes were segregated and life was in other ways made noticeably less attractive than in the

outside world. The workers considered the new law an abomination. They called the work-

houses “bastilles.” They resented the whole conception of a labor market, in which labor was

to be bought and sold (or remain unsold) like any other commodity. The fl uctuating, cyclical

labor market contributed to the social instability of working-class families and may also have

created new tensions between women and men. Court records from early nineteenth-century

England suggest that violent family disputes became more common when women earned

signifi cant portions of the working family’s household income or found work more read-

ily than their unemployed husbands; such situations challenged the traditional relations in

English family life, though women almost always received lower wages than men.

In the long run the condition of the workers would gradually improve through an

increase in productivity. Meanwhile the friends of the working class offered two means

of escape. One was to improve the bargaining position of labor in the market. This led to

the formation of labor unions for control of the labor supply and collective bargaining with

employers. Such unions, illegal in France, were barely legal in Great Britain after 1825,

though it was still illegal in both countries to strike. The other means of escape was to repu-

diate the whole idea of a market economy and of the capitalist system. It was to conceive

of a system in which goods were to be produced for use, not for sale; and in which working

people should be compensated according to their need, not according to the requirements of

an employer. This theory became the basis of most forms of nineteenth-century socialism.

Socialism and Chartism

Socialism emerged as one of the numerous early nineteenth-century “isms,” but it only

began to spread rapidly among the working classes after 1830. In France it blended with

revolutionary republicanism. There was a revival of interest in the great Revolution and

the democratic Republic of 1793. Cheap reprints of the writings of Robespierre began to

circulate in the working-class quarters of Paris. Robespierre was now seen as a people’s

hero. The socialist Louis Blanc, for example, who in 1839 published his Organization of Work recommending the formation of “social workshops,” also wrote a long history of the

The labor market

The Poor Law of

1834

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499

French Revolution, in which he pointed out the egalitarian ideals that had inspired the

National Convention in 1793. In Britain, as befi tted the different political history of the

country, socialistic ideas blended in with the movement for further parliamentary reform.

This was advanced by the working-class group known as the Chartists, from the People’s

Charter that they drafted in 1838.

Chartism was far more of a mass movement than the French socialism of the day. Only a

few Chartists were clearly socialists in their own minds. But all were anticapitalistic. All could

agree that the fi rst step toward social reform must be to win working-class

representation in Parliament. The Charter of 1838 consisted of six points. It

demanded (1) the annual election of the House of Commons by (2) universal

suffrage for all adult males, through (3) a secret ballot and (4) equal electoral

districts; and it called for (5) abolition of the property qualifi cations for membership in the

House of Commons, which had long perpetuated the idea that Parliament should be com-

posed only of gentlemen of independent income, and urged instead (6) the payment of salaries

to the elected members of Parliament, in order that people of small means might serve.

A convention composed of delegates sent by labor unions, mass meetings, and radical socie-

ties all over the country met in London in 1839. Convention was an ominous word, with

French revolutionary and even terrorist overtones; some members of this British convention

regarded it as the body really representing the people and favored armed violence and a gen-

eral strike, while others stood only for moral pressure upon Parliament.

A petition bearing over a million signatures, urging acceptance of the Charter, was sub-

mitted to the House of Commons. The violent and revolutionary wing, or “physical force”

Chartists, precipitated a wave of riots that were effectively quelled by the

authorities. In 1842 the petition was again submitted. This time, according

to the best estimate, it was signed by 3,317,702 persons. Because the entire

population of Great Britain in this period was about 19 million, it is clear

that the Charter, whatever the exact number of signatures, commanded the

explicit adherence of half the adult males of the country. The House of Commons neverthe-

less rejected the petition by 287 votes to 49. It was feared that political democracy would

threaten property rights and the whole economic system of British society. The Chartist

movement gradually died down in the face of fi rm opposition by the government and the

business classes and was weakened by mutual fears and disagreements among its own sup-

porters. It had not been entirely fruitless; for without popular agitation and the publicizing

of working-class grievances, the Mines Act of 1842 and the Ten Hours Act of 1847 might

not have been enacted. These measures in turn alleviated the distress of industrial workers

and kept alive a degree of confi dence in the future of the capitalist industrial economic sys-

tem. Chartism revived briefl y in 1848, as will be seen in the next chapter; but in general, in

the 1840s, British working people turned from overt political agitation to the forming and

strengthening of labor unions by which they could deal directly with employers without

having to appeal to the government. Not until 1867 was the suffrage extended in Great Brit-

ain, and it took about 80 years to realize the full program of the Charter of 1838, except for

the annual election of Parliament, for which there soon ceased to be any demand.

It is not possible to summarize the history of Europe between 1815 and 1848 as the

era of a single dominant ideology or social system. Among all the forces set free by the

French and Industrial revolutions—liberalism, conservatism, nationalism, republican-

ism, socialism, feminism, free market capitalism, democracy—no stabilization had been

achieved. No international system had been created; Europe had instead fallen increas-

ingly into two political and social camps, which represented geographical, economic, and

ideological divisions in nineteenth-century European societies. In general, the political and

The Charter of 1838

Petitions and the

defeat of the Chartists

57. Triumph of the West European Bourgeoisie

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Chapter 11 Industries, Ideas, and the Struggle for Reform, 1815–1848500

economic ideas of classical liberalism advanced most rapidly in the nations of western

Europe, whereas eastern Europe remained more agrarian and was mostly dominated by

three autocratic monarchies. Western Europe generally adhered more closely to the prin-

ciples of nationality and national sovereignty; governments in central and eastern Europe

still opposed them. The countries of northwestern Europe were growing collectively

richer, more industrialized, more liberal, more bourgeois. Middle-class people in

Germany, central Europe, and Italy (as well as in Spain and Portugal) did not usually enjoy

the political or social infl uence that they increasingly enjoyed in Great Britain or France.

But the industrializing societies in northwestern Europe had not solved their social prob-

lem; their whole material civilization depended upon a restless and sorely tried working

class. Everywhere there was repression, in varying degree, and everywhere apprehension,

more in some places than in others; but there was also confi dence in the progress of an

industrial and scientifi c society, and political faith in the unfi nished liberal program of the

rights of individuals. The result was the general European Revolution of 1848.

The newly organized London police await the arrival of a Chartist procession in the 1840s. The British government introduced a more disciplined police force to avoid incidents such as the Peterloo Massacre and to manage the mass demonstrations of groups such as the Chartists, who campaigned (unsuccessfully) for more democratic electoral laws. (Hulton Archive/Getty Images)

For suggested further readings and useful Web sites, interactive exercises, glossary, chronologies,

and more, go to the Online Learning Center at www.mhhe.com/palmerhistory11e.

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501

C h a p t e r 12 REVOLUTIONS

AND THE REIMPOSITION

OF ORDER, 1848–1870

Fears haunting  the established classes of Europe for 30 years came true in 1848. Governments col-

lapsed all over the Continent. Remembered hor-

rors appeared again, as in a recurring dream, in

much the same sequence as after 1789 only at a

much faster rate of speed. Revolutionaries milled

in the streets, kings fl ed, republics were declared,

and within four years there was another Napoleon.

Soon thereafter came a series of short wars.

Never before or since has Europe seen so truly

universal an upheaval as in 1848. While the French

Revolution of 1789 and the Russian Revolution of

1917 both had immediate international repercus-

sions, in each of these cases a single country took

the lead; and the upheavals that overturned mul-

tiple communist regimes in 1989, though wide-

spread, took place entirely in eastern Europe. In

1848 the revolutionary movements broke out spontaneously from Copenhagen to Palermo

and from Paris to Budapest. Contemporaries sometimes attributed the universality of the

phenomenon to the machinations of secret societies, and it is true that the faint beginnings

of an international revolutionary movement existed before 1848; but the revolutionary

plotters had little infl uence upon what actually happened, and the nearly simultaneous

fall of governments is quite understandable from other causes. Many people in Europe

sought substantially the same goals—constitutional government, the independence and

unifi cation of national groups, an end to serfdom and manorial restraints where they still

existed. With some variation, there was a common body of ideas among politically con-

scious elements of all countries. Some of the powers that the new forces had to combat

were themselves international, notably the Catholic Church and the far-spreading infl u-

ence of the Habsburgs, so that resistance to them arose independently in many places. In

any case, only the Russian Empire and Great Britain escaped the European revolutionary

convulsions of 1848, and the British received a very bad scare.

58. Paris: The Specter of Social

Revolution in the West

59. Vienna: The Nationalist

Revolutions in Central

Europe and Italy

60. Frankfurt and Berlin:

The Question of a Liberal

Germany

61. The New European “Isms”:

Realism, Positivism,

Marxism

62. Bonapartism: The Second

French Empire, 1852–1870

Chapter emblem: Detail from a nineteenth-century illustration of the 1848 uprising in Vienna. (Snark/Art

Resource, NY)

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Chapter 12 Revolutions and the Reimposition of Order, 1848–1870502

But the Revolutions of 1848, though they shook the whole Continent, lacked endur-

ing political and social strength. They failed almost as rapidly as they succeeded. Their

main consequence, at least in the short run, was to strengthen the more conservative forces

that viewed all revolution with alarm. Revolutionary ideals soon succumbed to military

repression. To some extent the European governments of the 1850s and 1860s, while hos-

tile to revolution, satisfi ed some of the aims of 1848, notably in national unifi cation and

constitutional government with limited representation, but they did so in a mood of cal-

culated realism that fi rmly reasserted their own authority. The repressed Revolutions of

1848 left a legacy of class fears and class confl ict, in which prophets of a new society

also became more realistic, as when Karl Marx, branding earlier forms of socialism as

“utopian,” offered his own views as hard-headed and “scientifi c.” New “isms” arose in

response to the evolving nineteenth-century political and cultural order, but power also

remained fi rmly with the institutions and national ideologies of the various European states

and their centralizing governments.

58. PARIS: THE SPECTER OF SOCIAL REVOLUTION IN THE WEST

The July Monarchy in France was a platform of boards built over a volcano. Under it

burned the repressed fi res of the republicanism put down in 1830, which since 1830 had

become steadily more socialistic.

Politics in the July Monarchy became increasingly separated from the changing social

classes in French society. So few interests were represented in the Chamber of Deputies

that the most basic social or political issues were seldom debated. Even most of the bour-

geois class had no representation. Graft and corruption became more common as eco-

nomic expansion favored stock swindles and fraud by business promoters and politicians

in combination. A strong movement set in to give the vote to more people. Radicals wanted

universal male suffrage and a republic, but liberals asked only for a broadening of voting

rights within the existing constitutional monarchy. The king, Louis Philippe, and his prime

minister, Guizot, instead of allying with the liberals against the radicals, resolutely and

obtusely opposed any change whatsoever.

The “February” Revolution in France

Reformers, against the king’s expressed wishes, planned a great banquet in Paris for

February 22, 1848, to be accompanied by demonstrations in the streets. The government

on February 21 forbade all such meetings. That night barricades were built in the working-

class quarters. Paving blocks, building stones, or large pieces of furniture were thrown

together across the narrow streets and intersections of the old city, constituting a maze

within which insurgents prepared to resist the authorities. The government called out the

National Guard, which refused to move. The king now promised electoral reform, but

republican fi rebrands took charge of the working-class elements, who demonstrated out-

side the house of Guizot. Someone shot at the guards placed around the house; the guards

replied, killing 20 persons. The republican organizers put some of the corpses on a torch-lit

cart and paraded them through the city, which, armed and barricaded, soon began to erupt

in an enormous riot. On February 24 Louis Philippe, like Charles X before him, abdicated

and left immediately for England. The February Revolution of 1848, like the July Revolu-

tion of 1830, had unseated a monarch in three days.

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50358. Paris: The Specter of Social Revolution in the West

The constitutional reformers hoped to carry on with Louis Philippe’s young grandson

as king, but the republicans, now aroused and armed, poured into the Chamber of Deputies

and forced the proclamation of a new republic. Republican leaders set up

a provisional government of 10 men, pending election by all France of a

Constituent Assembly that would write the new constitution for the second

French Republic. Seven of the 10 were “political” republicans, the most

notable being the poet Lamartine. Three were “social” republicans, the

most notable being Louis Blanc. A huge crowd of workers appeared before the Hôtel de

Ville, or city hall, demanding that France adopt the new socialist emblem—the red fl ag.

They were dissuaded by the eloquence of Lamartine, and the tricolor remained the repub-

lican standard.

Louis Blanc urged the Provisional Government to push through a bold

economic and social program without delay. But because the “social”

republicans were in a minority in the Provisional Government (though

probably not among Paris republicans generally), Louis Blanc’s ideas were very much

watered down in the application. He wanted a Ministry of Progress to organize a network

of “social workshops,” a plan for state-supported and collectivist manufacturing estab-

lishments that he had proposed in his writings. The new government, however, would

only create a more limited Labor Commission and a system of shops signifi cantly entitled

“national” rather than “social.” The National Workshops, as they are always called in

English (though “workshop” suggests something less signifi cant than Louis Blanc had in

mind), were established as a political concession to the social republicans, but no impor-

tant industrial work was ever assigned them for fear that they would compete with private

enterprise and disrupt the economic system. Indeed, the man placed in charge of them

admitted that his purpose was to prove the fallacies of socialism. Meanwhile the Labor

Commission was unable to win public acceptance for the ten-hour day, which the British

Parliament had enacted the year before. One action of the Provisional Government, how-

ever, had permanent effect: the fi nal abolition of slavery in the French

colonies.

The National Workshops became in practice a kind of regional project

for unemployment relief. Women were excluded from the workshops, but

men of all trades, skilled and unskilled, were set to work digging on the

roads and fortifi cations outside Paris. They were paid two francs a day. The number of

legitimate unemployed workers increased rapidly, for 1847 had been a year of depres-

sion and the revolution prevented the return of business confi dence. Other needy persons

also presented themselves for remuneration, and soon there were too many men for the

amount of work made available. From 25,000 enrolled in the workshops by the middle

of March, the number climbed to 120,000 by mid-June, by which time there were also in

Paris another 50,000 whom the bulging workshops could no longer accommodate. In June

there were probably almost 200,000 essentially idle but able-bodied men in a city of about

a million people.

The Constituent Assembly, elected in April by universal male suffrage throughout

France, met on May 4. It immediately replaced the Provisional Government with a tempo-

rary executive board of its own. The main body of France, a land of provincial bourgeois

and peasant landowners, was not socialist in the least. The temporary executive board,

chosen by the Constituent Assembly in May, included no social republicans. All fi ve of its

members were known as outspoken enemies of Louis Blanc; the socialists could no longer

expect even the grudging concessions that they had earlier obtained.

Proclamation of the

republic

Louis Blanc

The National

Workshops

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Chapter 12 Revolutions and the Reimposition of Order, 1848–1870504

The battle lines were now drawn after only three months of revolution, somewhat as

they had been drawn in 1792 after three years. Paris again stood for revolutionary actions

in which the rest of the country was not prepared to share. Revolutionary leaders in Paris,

in 1848 as in 1792, were unwilling to accept the processes of majority rule or slow par-

liamentary deliberation. But the crisis in 1848 was more acute than in 1792. A larger

proportion of the population were wage earners. Under a system of predominantly merchant

capitalism, in which machine industry and factory concentration were only just emerging,

the workers were tormented by the same evils as the more industrialized working classes of

England. Hours were if anything longer, and pay was less, in France than in Great Britain;

insecurity and unemployment were at least as great; and many workers believed that a cap-

italist economy held no future for the laborer. In addition, where the English worker shrank

from an actual assault on Parliament, the French worker saw nothing very sacrilegious in

the violation of elected assemblies. Too many regimes in France since 1789, including

those preferred by the comfortable classes, had been based on insurrectionary violence

for the French workers to feel much compunction over using it for their own ends.

There was in Paris a well-remembered tradition of revolutionary agitation, so that a confl ict between political activists and the police in February 1848 could lead quickly toward familiar patterns of radical political upheaval: crowds and barricades in the streets, publications calling for revolutionary change, and emotional responses to popular national symbols such as the tri- color fl ag. This nineteenth-century illustration depicts part of the Parisian crowd that marched on the Tuileries, forcing King Louis Philippe to abdicate power and leave the country. (Snark/Art Resource, NY)

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505

The “June Days” of 1848

On the one hand stood the nationally elected Constituent Assembly. On the other, the

National Workshops had mobilized in Paris the most distressed elements of the working

class. Tens of thousands had been brought together where they could talk, read journals,

listen to speeches, and plan for common action. Agitators and organizers naturally made

use of the opportunity thus presented to them. Men in the workshops began to feel desper-

ate, to sense that the social republic was slipping from them perhaps forever. On May 15

they attacked the Constituent Assembly, drove its members out of the hall,

declared it dissolved, and set up a new provisional government of their own.

They announced that a social revolution must follow the purely political

revolution of February. But the National Guard, a kind of civilian militia,

turned against the insurgents and restored the Constituent Assembly. The

Assembly, to root out socialism, now prepared to get rid of the National Workshops. It

offered those enrolled in them the alternatives of enlistment in the army, transfer to provin-

cial workshops, or expulsion from Paris by force. The whole laboring class in the city began

to resist. The government proclaimed martial law, the civilian executive board resigned,

and all power was given to General Cavaignac and the regular army.

There followed the “Bloody June Days”—June 24 to 26, 1848—three

days during which a terrifying class war raged in Paris. Over 20,000 men

from the workshops took to arms, and they were joined by thousands of

men and women from the working-class districts of the city. Half or more of Paris became

a labyrinth of barricades defended by determined men and equally resolute women.

Military methods of the time made it possible for civilians to shoot it out openly with

soldiers in the narrow streets; small arms were the main weapons, and armies still lacked

the military advantage of armored vehicles. The soldiers found it a diffi cult operation, but

after three days the outcome was in doubt no longer. Ten thousand persons had been killed

or wounded. Eleven thousand insurgents were taken prisoner. The Assembly, refusing all

clemency, decreed their immediate deportation to the colonies.

The June Days sent a shudder throughout France and Europe. Whether the battle in

Paris had been a true class struggle, how large a portion of the laboring class had really

participated (it was large in any case), how much they had fought for permanent objec-

tives, and how much over the temporary issue of the workshops—all these were secondary

questions. It was widely understood that a class war had in fact broken out in the capital of

France. Militant workers were confi rmed in a hatred of the bourgeois class and in a belief

that capitalism ultimately survived by shooting working-class men and women in the

streets. People above the laboring class were thrown into a panic. They were sure that they

had narrowly escaped a ghastly upheaval. The very ground of civilized living seemed to

have quaked. After June 1848, wrote a Frenchwoman of the time, society was “a prey to a

feeling of terror incomparable to anything since the invasion of Rome by

the barbarians.”

Nor were the political signs in England much more reassuring. There

the Chartist agitation for electoral reforms was revived by the February

Revolution in Paris. “France is a Republic!” cried the Chartist Ernest Jones;

the Chartist petition was again circulated and was soon said to have 6 million signatures.

Another Chartist convention met, considered by its leaders to be the forerunner of a Con-

stituent Assembly as in France. The violent minority was the most active; it began to

gather arms and to drill. The old Duke of Wellington swore in 70,000 special constables

to uphold the social order. Clashes occurred at Liverpool and elsewhere; in London the

Paris on the verge of

revolution

Class war

The revival of

Chartist agitation

58. Paris: The Specter of Social Revolution in the West

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Chapter 12 Revolutions and the Reimposition of Order, 1848–1870506

revolutionary committee laid plans for systematic arson and organized men to break up

the pavements for barricades. Meanwhile the petition, weighing 584 pounds, was carried

in three cabs to the House of Commons, which estimated that it contained “only” 2 million

signatures and again summarily rejected it. The revolutionary menace passed. One of the

secret organizers in London proved to be a government spy; he revealed the whole plan

at the critical moment, and the revolutionary committee was arrested on the day set for

insurrection. Most Chartists had in any case refused to support the militants, but the trucu-

lent minority of radical workers and journalists had a deeper sense of envenomed class

consciousness. The word “proletarian” was imported from France. “Every proletarian,”

wrote the Chartist editor of Red Revolution, “who does not see and feel that he belongs to an enslaved and degraded class is a fool. ”

The specter of social revolution thus hung over western Europe in the summer of

1848, though in all probability there could have been no successful socialist revolution at

the time. But the specter was there, and it spread a sinking fear among all who had wealth

or social positions to lose. This fear shaped the whole subsequent course of the Second

Republic in France and of the revolutionary movements that had by this time begun in

other countries as well.

The Emergence of Louis Napoleon Bonaparte

In France, after the June Days, the Constituent Assembly (with General Cavaignac as a

virtual dictator) set about drafting a republican constitution. It was decided, in view of the

disturbances just passed, to create a strong executive power in the hands of a president to

be elected by universal male suffrage. It was decided also to have this president elected

immediately, even before the rest of the constitution was fi nished. Four candidates

presented themselves: Lamartine, Cavaignac, Ledru-Rollin—and Louis Napoleon

Bonaparte. The poet Lamartine stood for a somewhat vaguely moral and idealistic repub-

lic; Cavaignac, for a republic of disciplined order; Ledru-Rollin, for somewhat chastened

social ideas. What Bonaparte stood for was not so clear. He was, however, elected by an

avalanche of votes in December 1848, receiving over 5,400,000, compared

to only 1,500,000 for Cavaignac, 370,000 for Ledru-Rollin, and a mere

18,000 for Lamartine.

Thus entered upon the European stage the second Napoleon. Born in

1808, Louis Napoleon Bonaparte was the nephew of the great Napoleon.

His father, Louis Bonaparte, was at the time of his birth the king of

Holland. When Napoleon’s own son died in 1832, Louis Napoleon assumed the headship

of the Bonaparte family. He resolved to restore the glories of the Napoleonic Empire. With

a handful of followers he tried to seize power at Strasbourg in 1836 and at Boulogne in

1840, leading what the following century would know as Putsches. Both failed ridicu- lously. Sentenced to life imprisonment in the fortress of Ham, he had escaped from it as

recently as 1846 by simply walking off the grounds dressed as a stonemason. He professed

advanced social and political ideas, and he wrote two books. Napoleonic Ideas claimed that his famous uncle had been misunderstood and checkmated by reactionary forces; his other

book, Extinction of Poverty, was a somewhat anticapitalist tract like many others in this era of early industrial capitalism. But he was no friend of “anarchists,” and in the spring of

1848, while still a refugee in England, he enrolled as one of Wellington’s special constables

to oppose the Chartist agitation. He soon returned to France. Compromised neither by the

June Days nor by their repression, he was supposed to be a friend of the common people

and at the same time a believer in order; and his name was Napoleon Bonaparte.

Bonaparte’s

background

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507

For 20 years a groundswell had been stirring the popular mind. It is known as the

Napoleonic Legend. Peasants put up pictures of the emperor in their cottages, fondly imag-

ining that it had been Napoleon who gave them the free ownership of their land. The

completion of the Arch of Triumph in 1836 drove home the memory of imperial glories,

and in 1840 the remains of the emperor were brought from St. Helena and majestically

interred at the Invalides on the banks of the Seine. All this happened in a country where,

with government in the hands of a few, most people had little political experience or politi-

cal sense except what they had gained in revolution. When millions were suddenly, for the

fi rst time in their lives, asked to vote for a president in 1848, the name of Bonaparte was

the only one they had ever heard of. “How should I not vote for this gentleman,” said an

old peasant, “I whose nose was frozen at Moscow?”

So Prince Louis Napoleon became president of the Second Republic,

by an overwhelming popular mandate, in which an army offi cer was his

only faintly successful rival. He soon saw the way the wind was blowing.

The Constituent Assembly dissolved itself in May 1849 and was replaced by

the Legislative Assembly. Although this new legislative body was established under the

provisions of the new republican constitution and was elected by universal male suffrage, it

was a strange assembly for a republic. Five hundred of the Second Republic’s newly elected

deputies, or two-thirds, were really monarchists, but they were divided into irreconcilable

factions—the Legitimists, who favored the line of Charles X, and the Orléanists, who

favored that of Louis Philippe. One-third of the deputies called themselves republicans. Of

these, in turn, about 180 were socialists of one kind of another; and only about 70 were

political or old-fashioned republicans to whom the main issue was the form of government

rather than the form of the economy or society itself.

The president and the Assembly at fi rst combined to conjure away the specter of social-

ism with which republicanism itself was now clearly associated. An abortive insurrection of

June 1849 provided the chance. The Assembly, backed by the president, ousted 33 socialist

deputies, suppressed public meetings, and imposed controls on the press. In 1850 it went

so far as to rescind universal male suffrage, taking the vote away from about a third of

the electorate—naturally the poorest and hence most socialistic third. The Falloux Law of

1850 put the schools at all levels of the education system under supervision of the Catholic

clergy; for, as M. Falloux said in the Assembly, “lay teachers have made the principles of

social revolution popular in the most distant villages,” and it was necessary “to rally around

religion to strengthen the foundations of society against those who want to

divide up property.” The French Republic, now actually an antirepublican

government, likewise intervened forcefully against the revolutionary repub-

lic that Mazzini had established in the city of Rome. French military forces

were sent to Rome to protect the pope; they remained there 20 years.

Bonaparte knew that his repression of the socialists made him virtually indispensable

for the conservatives. They were so sharply divided between two sets of monarchists—

Legitimist and Orléanist—that each would accept any antisocialist regime rather than yield

to the other. Bonaparte’s problem was to win over the radicals. He did so by urging in 1851

the restoration of universal suffrage, which he had himself helped repeal in 1850. He now

posed as the people’s friend, the one man in public life who trusted the common man. He

let it be thought that greedy plutocrats controlled the Assembly and hoodwinked France.

He put his lieutenants in as ministers of war and of the interior, thus controlling the army,

the bureaucracy, and the police. On December 2, 1851, the anniversary of his uncle’s

famous victory at the battle of Austerlitz, he sprang a well-organized coup d’état. Placards

appeared all over Paris. They declared the Assembly dissolved and the vote for every adult

Louis Napoleon

becomes president

Antirepublican

government

58. Paris: The Specter of Social Revolution in the West

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Chapter 12 Revolutions and the Reimposition of Order, 1848–1870508

Frenchman reinstated. When members of the Assembly tried to meet, they were attacked,

dispersed, or arrested by the soldiers. The country did not submit without fi ghting. One

hundred and fi fty persons were killed in Paris, and throughout France probably 100,000

were put under arrest. But on December 20 the voters elected Louis Napoleon president for

a term of 10 years, by a vote offi cially stated as 7,439,216 to 646,737. A year later the new

Bonaparte proclaimed the empire, with himself as emperor of the French. Remembering

Napoleon’s son, who had died, he called himself Napoleon III.

French republicans had lost more than the political institutions of the Second Repub-

lic. The republic as republicans understood it, an egalitarian, anticlerical regime with

socialist or at least antibourgeois tendencies, had been dead since June 1848. Feeble any-

way, it was killed by its reputation for radicalism. Liberalism and constitu-

tionalism were dead also, at least in the political institutions by which the

new Napoleon now governed France. Republicans and monarchists were

all pushed aside, and for the fi rst time since 1815 France ceased to have any

signifi cant parliamentary life.

59. VIENNA: THE NATIONALIST REVOLUTIONS IN CENTRAL EUROPE AND ITALY

The Austrian Empire in 1848

The Austrian Empire of the Habsburgs, with its capital at Vienna, was in 1848 the most

populous European state except Russia. Its peoples, living principally in the three major

geographical divisions of the empire (Austria, Bohemia, and Hungary) were of about a

dozen recognizably different nationalities or language groups—Germans, Czechs, Magyars,

Poles, Ruthenians, Slovaks, Serbs, Croats, Slovenes, Dalmatians, Romanians, and Italians

(see map, p. 473). In some parts of the empire the nationalities lived in solid blocks, but in

many regions two or more were interlaced together, the language changing from village to

village, or even from house to house, in a way quite unknown in western Europe.

Germans were the most numerous national group. They occupied all of Austria proper

and considerable parts of Bohemia and were scattered also in small pockets throughout

Hungary. The Czechs occupied Bohemia and the adjoining Moravia. The Magyars were

the dominant group in the historic kingdom of Hungary, which contained

a mixture of nationalities with a considerable number of Slavic peoples.

Two of the most economically advanced parts of Italy also belonged to the

empire—Venetia, with its capital at Venice, and Lombardy, whose chief

city was Milan.

The Czechs, Poles, Ruthenians, Slovaks, Serbs, Croats, Slovenes, and Dalmatians

in the empire were all Slavs; that is, their languages were all related to one another and to

the several forms of Russian. Neither the Magyars nor the Romanians were Slavs. The

Magyars, as national sentiment grew, prided themselves on the uniqueness of their lan-

guage in Europe, and the Romanians prided themselves on their linguistic affi liations with

the Latin peoples of the West. Romanians, Magyars, and Germans formed a thick belt sepa-

rating the South Slavs from those of the north. The peoples of the empire represented every

cultural level known to Europe. Vienna, where the Waltz King Johann Strauss was reigning,

recognized no peer except Paris itself. Milan was a great center of trade. Bohemia had long

had an important textile industry, which was beginning to be mechanized in the 1840s;

The demise of

parliamentary

government

The diversity of the

empire

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50959. Vienna: The Nationalist Revolutions in Central Europe and Italy

but 200 miles to the south a Croatian intellectual remarked, about the same time, that the

fi rst steam engine he ever saw was in a picture printed on a cotton handkerchief imported

from Manchester.

Thus the empire that the Habsburgs ruled from Vienna included, according to political

frontiers established 70 years later, in 1918, all of Austria, Hungary, and Czechoslovakia,

with adjoining portions of Poland, Romania, Yugoslavia, and Italy. But the

political authority of Vienna reached far beyond the borders of the empire.

Austria since 1815 had been the most infl uential member of the German

confederation, for Prussia in these years was content to look with deference

upon the Habsburgs. The infl uence of Vienna was felt throughout Germany

in many ways, as in the enactment and enforcement of Metternich’s repressive Carlsbad

Decrees described in the last chapter. It reached also through the length of Italy. Lombardy

and Venetia were part of the Austrian Empire. Tuscany, ostensibly independent, was gov-

erned by a Habsburg grand duke. The kingdom of Naples or the Two Sicilies, comprising

all Italy south of Rome, was virtually a protectorate of Vienna. The papal states looked

politically to Vienna for leadership, at least until 1846, when the College of Cardinals

elected a liberal-minded pope, Pius IX—the one contingency upon which Metternich con-

fessed he had failed to reckon. In all Italy there was only one state ruled by a native Italian

dynasty and attempting any consistent independence of policy—the kingdom of Sardinia

(called also Savoy or Piedmont) tucked away in the northwest corner around Turin. Italy,

said Metternich blandly, was only a “geographical expression,” a mere regional name. He

might have said the same of Poland, or even of Germany, though Germany was tenuously

joined in the Bund, or loose confederation, of 1815.

These peoples since the turn of the century had all began to identify the distinctive

meanings of their own Volksgeist as they developed new cultural nationalisms; and among Germans, Italians, Poles, and Hungarians a good deal of political agitation and liberal

reformism had been at work. Metternich, in Vienna, had discouraged such manifestations

for over 30 years, ominously predicting that if allowed to break out they would produce the

bellum omnium contra omnes —“the war of all against all.” As a prophet he was not wholly mistaken, but if it is the business of statesmanship not merely to prophesy events but to

control them, it cannot be said that Metternich’s Austrian regime was very successful.

The whole nationalities question was evaded. The fundamental problem of the century,

the bringing of peoples into some kind of mutual relationship with their governments—a

political aspiration that drew on diverse strands of nationalism, liberalism, constitution-

alism, and democracy—remained unconsidered by the responsible authorities of central

Europe. Metternich believed that a reigning royal family, with an offi cial bureaucracy,

should rule benevolently over peoples with whom it need have no connection and who

need have no connection with each other. Such ideas could be found everywhere among

the governing elites in eighteenth-century Europe. They dated from before the French

Revolution, and they were best suited to the agricultural, locally oriented societies that by

1848 were giving way to cities, cultural nationalisms, and new commercial institutions.

The March Days

In March 1848 most of the political institutions in central Europe collapsed with incredible

swiftness. At that time the diet of Hungary had been sitting for some months, considering

constitutional reforms and, as usual, debating further means of keeping German infl uence

out of Hungary. Then came news of the February Revolution in Paris. The radical party in

Vienna’s authority

and leadership

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Chapter 12 Revolutions and the Reimposition of Order, 1848–1870510

the Hungarian diet was aroused. Its leader, Louis Kossuth, on March 3 made an impas-

sioned speech on the virtues of liberty. This speech was immediately printed in German

and read in Vienna, where restlessness was also heightened by the news from Paris. On

March 13 workers and students rose in insurrection in Vienna, erected barricades, fought

off soldiers, and invaded the imperial palace. So fl abbergasted and terrifi ed was the gov-

ernment that Metternich, to the amazement of both liberals and conserva-

tives throughout Europe, resigned and fl ed in disguise to England.

The fall of Metternich proved that the Vienna government was com-

pletely disoriented. Revolution swept through the empire and through

all Italy and Germany. On March 15 rioting began in Berlin; the king of

Prussia promised a constitution. The lesser German governments collapsed in sequence.

On the last day of March a pre-Parliament met to arrange the calling of an all-German

national assembly. In Hungary, now mobilized by Kossuth’s national party, the diet on

March 15 enacted the March Laws, by which Hungary sought complete constitutional

separatism within the empire, while still recognizing the Habsburg house. The harassed

Emperor Ferdinand a few days later granted substantially the same status to Bohemia.

At Milan between March 18 and 22 the populace drove out the Austrian garrison.

Venice proclaimed itself an independent republic. Tuscany drove out its grand duke and

also established a republic. Charles Albert was king of Sardinia, a kingdom also called

Piedmont because its capital Turin and much of its territory apart from the island of Sardinia

lay in northwest Italy at the foot of the Alps. Stimulated by events in Paris, Charles Albert

had granted a constitution to his small country. He now declared war on Austria on March

Metternich’s fall

The Revolution of 1848 spread rapidly across the European continent, provoking an upris- ing in Vienna by mid-March. Workers, students, and even soldiers joined together to erect barricades and resist the king’s loyal troops. This nineteenth- century image of the Viennese crowd, however, suggests the tensions within a movement that rallied behind a ban- ner for “King, Freedom, and Fatherland.” (Snark/Art Resource, NY)

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511

23 and invaded Lombardy-Venetia, hoping to bring that area under his house of Savoy.

Italian troops streamed up from Tuscany, from Naples (where revolution had broken out as

early as January), and even from the papal states (the new pope had expressed some earlier

sympathy with liberal aims) to join in an all-Italian war against the seemingly helpless

Austrian government.

Thus in the brief span of these phenomenal March Days in 1848 the whole political

structure based on Vienna went to pieces. The Austrian Empire had fallen into its main

components, Prussia had yielded to revolutionaries, all Germany was preparing to unify

itself, and war raged in Italy. Everywhere constitutions had been widely promised by stu-

pefi ed governments, constitutional assemblies were meeting, and independent or autono-

mous nations struggled into existence. Patriots everywhere demanded liberal government

and national freedom—written constitutions, representative assemblies, responsible min-

istries, a more or less extended suffrage, restrictions upon police action, jury trial, civil

liberty, freedom of press and assembly. And where it still existed—in Prussia, Galicia,

Bohemia, Hungary—serfdom was declared abolished and the peasant masses became

legally free from control by their local lords. This change in the legal status of peas-

ants would become the most enduring and signifi cant social consequence of the central

European revolutions.

The Turning of the Tide after June

The revolution, as in France, surged forward until the month of June and then began to

ebb in every country. The old governments had been stunned during the March Days, but

not really broken. They merely awaited the opportunity to take back promises extorted

by force. The pressure originally imposed by the revolutionaries could not be sustained.

The revolutionary leaders lacked a strong social base. Middle-class, bourgeois, property-

owning, and commercial interests were nowhere nearly as highly developed as in western

Europe. The revolutionary leaders were to a large extent writers, editors, professors, and

students—intellectuals rather than the representatives of powerful social and economic

interests. In Vienna, Milan, and a few other cities the working class was numerous and

socialist ideas were fairly common, but the workers were not as literate, organized, or

politically conscious as in Paris or Great Britain. They were strong enough, however, to

disquiet the middle classes; and especially after the specter of social revolution rose over

western Europe, the middle-class and lower-class revolutionaries began to be afraid of

each other. The liberated nationalities also began to disagree. The peasants, once eman-

cipated, had no further interest in revolution. Nor did the peasants at this time have much

awareness of the emerging belief in collective national identities; nationalism was pri-

marily a doctrine of the educated middle classes or of the aristocratic landowning classes

in Poland and Hungary. Because the old internationally minded aristocracy furnished

the bulk of offi cers in the armies, and the peasants the bulk of the soldiers, the armies

remained almost immune to nationalist aspirations. This attitude within the armies

was decisive.

The tide fi rst turned in Prague. The all-German national assembly met at Frankfurt in

May. Representatives from Bohemia had been invited to come to Frankfurt, because many

Germans had always lived in Bohemia and because Bohemia formed part of the confedera-

tion of 1815 and part of the Holy Roman Empire that had preceded it. Many of the

Germans in Bohemia, the Sudeten Germans, were attracted to the Frankfurt Assembly, but

the idea of belonging to a national German state, a Germany based on the principle that the

59. Vienna: The Nationalist Revolutions in Central Europe and Italy

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Chapter 12 Revolutions and the Reimposition of Order, 1848–1870512

inhabitants embodied a German nationality, did not appeal to the Czechs in Bohemia.

They refused to go to the all-German congress at Frankfurt. Instead, they called an all-Slav

congress of their own. At Prague, in June 1848, this fi rst Pan-Slav Assem-

bly met. Most of the delegates were from Slav communities within the Aus-

trian Empire, but a few came from the Balkans and non-Austrian Poland.

The spirit of the Prague congress was that of the Slavic Revival

described in the last chapter; the Czech historian Palacky was in fact one

of its most active fi gures. The congress was profoundly anti-German, because the essence

of the Slavic Revival was resistance to Germanization. But it was not profoundly anti-

Austrian or anti-Habsburg. A few extremists, indeed, maintained that Slavdom should

be the basis of political regeneration, and that the world therefore had no place for an

Austrian Empire. But the great majority at the Prague congress were Austroslavs who

held that the many Slavic peoples, pressed on two sides by the Russians and Germans,

needed the Austrian Empire as a political frame within which to develop their own

national life. The congress therefore demanded that the Slavic peoples be admitted as

equals with the other nationalities in the Austrian Empire, enjoying local autonomy and

constitutional guarantees.

The fi rst Pan-Slav

Assembly

EUROPEAN REVOLUTIONS, 1848 The map shows cities in which notable revolutionary upheavals occurred during 1848. Although opponents of the revolutionary agitation suspected an international conspiracy, the revolutions erupted more or less spontaneously as urban populations took to the streets with demands for constitutional government, national independence, or new civil rights. It should be noted that the revolutions of 1848 took place mainly in central and eastern Europe—a pat- tern that suggests the spreading infl uence of ideas that had appeared earlier in the American and French revolutions. But the failure of these revolutions led to a conservative resurgence that delayed or prevented the development of liberal, constitutional governments in most of central and eastern Europe.

BELGIUM

F R A N C E

KINGDOM OF THE

TWO SICILIES

O T

T O M

A N E M P I R E

A U S T R I A N E M P I R E

PAPAL STATES

HUNGARY

P R U S

S I A

Pest

Rome

Palermo

Milan

Prague

Frankfurt

Venice

Berlin

ViennaMunich

Buda

Bucharest

Paris

Warsaw

Cracow

Revolts and Centers of Revolutionary Activity

Boundary of German Confederation

0 200 400 miles

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513

Victories of the Counterrevolution, June–December, 1848

But the Emperor Ferdinand, and the advisers on whom he chose to rely, would have noth-

ing to do with the liberal national movements or with the restrictions they wanted to

impose upon the powers of the state. All national movements were thus resisted. The fi rst

victory of the old government came at Prague. A Czech insurrection broke out in Prague

on June 12, at the time when the Slav congress was sitting, but the local Austrian army

commander bombarded and subdued the city, thereby reasserting Habsburg military con-

trol. The Slav congress dispersed.

The next victory of the counterrevolution came in north Italy in the following month.

Only Lombardy-Venetia, of all parts of the empire, had declared independence from the

Habsburgs during the upheavals of March. The diminutive kingdom of Sardinia had lent

support and had declared war on Austria. Italians from all over the peninsula had fl ocked

in to fi ght; and until after the June Days in Paris it even seemed possible that republican

France might intervene to befriend fellow revolutionaries as in 1796. But in

France the radical revolution was suppressed. The Italians were left to

themselves, and an Austrian army crushed the disparate revolutionary

movement in late July. The Sardinian king, Charles Albert, retreated into

his own country. Lombardy and Venetia were restored with savage ven-

geance to the Austrian Empire.

The third victory of the counterrevolution came in September and

October. The Hungarian radical party of Louis Kossuth was liberal and even

democratic in many of its principles, but it was a Magyar nationalist party

above all else. Triumphant in the March Days, it completely shook off the

German connection. It moved the capital from Pressburg near the Austrian

border to Budapest in the center of Hungary. It changed the offi cial language of Hungary

from Latin to Magyar. Less than half the people of Hungary were Magyars, and Magyar is

a diffi cult language, quite alien to the Indo-European tongues of Europe. It soon became

clear that one must be a Magyar to benefi t from the new liberal constitution and that

the Magyars intended to repress the national ambitions of all others with whom they shared

the country. Slovaks, Romanians, Germans, Serbs, and Croats violently resisted, each

group determined to keep its national identity unimpaired. The Croats, who had enjoyed

certain liberties before the Magyar revolution, took the lead under Count Jellachich, the

provincial governor of Croatia. In September Jellachich raised a civil war in Hungary,

leading a force of Serbo-Croatians, supported by the whole non-Magyar half of the popu-

lation. Half of Hungary, alarmed by Magyar nationalism, now looked to the Habsburgs and

the empire to protect them. Emperor Ferdinand made Jellachich his military commander

against the Magyars. Hungary dissolved into the war of all against all.

At Vienna the more clear-sighted revolutionaries, who had led the March rising, now

saw that Jellachich’s anti-Magyar army might soon be turned against them. They therefore

rose in a second mass insurrection in October 1848. The emperor fl ed; never had the Vien-

nese revolution gone so far. But it was already too late. The Austrian forces that had earlier

subdued the revolution in Prague now arrived at Vienna, where the besieged radicals soon

surrendered.

With the recapture of Vienna the upholders of the old order took

heart. Counterrevolutionary leaders—large estate holders, Catholic clergy,

high-ranking army men—decided to clear the way by getting rid of the

Emperor Ferdinand, considering that promises made in March by Ferdinand might be

more easily repudiated by his successor. Ferdinand abdicated and on December 2, 1848,

The Italians defeated

Magyar nationalism

Vienna recaptured

59. Vienna: The Nationalist Revolutions in Central Europe and Italy

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Chapter 12 Revolutions and the Reimposition of Order, 1848–1870514

was succeeded by Francis Joseph, a boy of 18, destined to live until 1916 and to end

his reign in a crisis even more shattering than the revolutionary year in which he had come

to power.

Final Outburst and Repression, 1849

For a time in the fi rst part of 1849 the revolution in many places seemed to blaze more

fi ercely than ever. Republican riots broke out in parts of Germany, and political violence in

Rome forced Pope Pius IX to fl ee from the city. A radical Roman Republic was pro-

claimed under three Triumvirs, one of whom was the nationalist leader Mazzini, who has-

tened from England to take part in the republican upheaval. In north Italy Charles Albert of

Sardinia again invaded Lombardy. In Hungary, after the revived Habsburg authorities

repudiated the new Magyar constitution, the Magyars, led by the infl amed Kossuth, went

on to declare absolute independence. But all these manifestations proved short-lived.

German republicanism fl ickered out. A French army drove Mazzini and his republican

allies from Rome, thereby restoring Pope Pius IX to his traditional powers. The Sardinian

king was again defeated by an Austrian army, but in Hungary the Magyars put up a sus-

tained resistance, which Austria’s imperial army and the anti-Magyar native irregulars

could not overcome. The Habsburg authorities now renewed the procedures of the Holy

Alliance. The new Emperor Francis Joseph invited Tsar Nicholas to intervene. In August

1849 over 100,000 Russian troops poured over the mountains into Hungary, defeated the

Magyars, and laid the prostrate country at the feet of the court of Vienna.

The nationalist upheaval of 1848 in central Europe and Italy was now over. The

Habsburgs had reasserted their imperial authority over Czech nationalists in Prague,

Magyars in Hungary, Italian patriots in north Italy, and liberal revolution-

ists in Vienna itself. Reaction, or antirevolutionism, became the order of the

day. Pius IX, the formerly “liberal pope,” returned to the papal throne and

rejected all of his earlier liberal ideas. The breach between liberalism and

Roman Catholicism, which had opened wide in the fi rst French Revolution, was made a

yawning chasm by the revolutionary violence of Mazzini’s Roman Republic and by the

measures taken to repress it. Pius IX now reiterated the anathemas of his predecessors.

He codifi ed them in 1864 in the Syllabus of Errors, which warned all Catholics, on the authority of the Vatican, against everything that went under the names of liberalism, ratio-

nalism, socialism, and other modern “isms.” The Catholic Church thus emerged from the

mid-nineteenth-century revolutions (and the pope’s own encounter with revolutionary vio-

lence in Rome) as a more steadfast opponent of the European agitation for social reform as

well as the expanding movements for political and cultural nationalism. As for the nation-

alists in Italy, many became disillusioned with the fi recracker methods of romantic repub-

licans; and the more pragmatic nationalists concluded that Italy would be liberated from

Austrian infl uence only by an old-fashioned war between established powers.

In the Austrian Empire the main policy was now to oppose all forms of popular self-

expression with a more candid reliance on military force. Constitutionalism was to be

rooted out, as well as all forms of nationalism—Slavism, Magyarism, Italianism, and also

Germanism, which would draw the Austrian Germans away from the Habsburg Empire

to the great kindred body of the German people. The regime came to be called the Bach

system, after Alexander Bach, the minister of the interior. Under it, the

government was rigidly centralized. Hungary lost the separate rights it had

held before 1848. The ideal was to create a perfectly solid and unitary

Antirevolutionism

The Bach system

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51560. Frankfurt and Berlin: The Question of a Liberal Germany

political system. Bach insisted on maintaining the emancipation of the peasants, which

had converted the mass of the people from subjects of their landlords into subjects of

the state. He drove through a reform of the legal system and law courts, created a free

trading area of the whole empire with only a common external tariff, and subsidized

and encouraged the building of highways and railroads. The aim, as in France at the

same time under Louis Napoleon, was to make people forget liberty in an overwhelm-

ing demonstration of administrative effi ciency and material progress. But some, at that

time, would not forget. A liberal said of the Bach system that it consisted of “a standing

army of soldiers, a sitting army of offi cials, a kneeling army of priests, and a creeping

army of informers.”

60. FRANKFURT AND BERLIN: THE QUESTION OF A LIBERAL GERMANY

The German States

Meanwhile, from May 1848 to May 1849, the Frankfurt Assembly was sitting at the

historic city on the Main. It was attempting to bring a unifi ed German state into being,

one that should also be liberal and constitutional, assuring civil rights to its citizens and

possessing a government responsive to popular will as manifested in free elections and

open parliamentary debate. The mid-nineteenth-century failure to produce a democratic

Germany became one of the overshadowing facts of modern European history.

Joseph Mazzini (1805–1872) led the short-lived republic in Rome during the Italian upheavals of 1849, but his new regime was soon suppressed by foreign powers and he retreated to the life of an exile in England. Although Mazzi- ni’s Romantic nationalism lost favor in Italy after about 1850, his writings and political activities gave him a prominent place in the intellectual life of London, where this photo- graph was taken in the early 1860s. (The Granger Collection, NYC)

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Chapter 12 Revolutions and the Reimposition of Order, 1848–1870516

The convocation of the Frankfurt Assembly was made possible by the collapse of

the existing German governments in the March Days of 1848. These governments, the

39 states recognized after the Congress of Vienna, enjoyed their political independence

and formed the main obstacles in the way of unifi cation. The German states

resisted the surrender of sovereignty to a united Germany just as national

states in later eras were to resist the surrender of sovereignty to a United

Nations. In another way the German world was a miniature of the wider

political world. It consisted of both great and small powers. Its great powers

were Prussia and Austria. Austria was the miscellaneous empire described earlier. Prussia

after 1815 included the Rhineland, the central regions around Berlin, West Prussia and

Posen (acquired in the partitions of Poland), and historic East Prussia. The former Polish

areas were inhabited by a mixture of Germans and Poles. Neither of these great powers

would submit to the other or allow the other to dominate its lesser German neighbors.

This German “dualism,” or polarity between Berlin and Vienna, had

become somewhat less intense under the common menace of the Napo-

leonic Empire. The whole German question had lain dormant insofar as

the governments were concerned, nor did it agitate the old aristocracies.

In Prussia the Junkers, the owners of great landed estates east of the Elbe, were singularly

indifferent to the all-German dream. Their political feeling was not German but Prussian.

They were satisfi ed with their dominant position in Prussia and could expect only to lose

by absorption into Germany as a whole, for in Germany west of the Elbe the small peasant

holding was the basis of society, and there was no landowning element corresponding to

the Junkers. The rest of Germany looked upon Prussia as somewhat uncouth and eastern;

but this feeling, too, had diminished in the time of Napoleon, when patriots from all over

Germany enlisted in the Prussian service.

Berlin: Failure of the Revolution in Prussia

Prussia was illiberal but not backward. Frederick William III repeatedly evaded his prom-

ise to grant a modern constitution. His successor, Frederick William IV, who inherited

the throne in 1840 and from whom much was at fi rst expected by liberals, was equally

determined not to share his authority with his subjects. At the same time the government,

administratively speaking, was effi cient, progressive, and fair. The universities and ele-

mentary school system surpassed those of western Europe. Literacy was higher than in

England or France. The government followed in mercantilist traditions of evoking, plan-

ning, and supporting economic life. In 1818 it initiated a tariff union, at fi rst with tiny

states (or enclaves) wholly enclosed within Prussia. This tariff union, or Zollverein, was extended in the following decades to include almost all Germany.

On March 15, 1848, the rioting and street fi ghting that we have noted broke out in

Berlin. For a time it seemed as if the army would master the situation. But the erratically

conscientious king, Frederick William IV, called off the soldiers and allowed his subjects

to elect the fi rst all-Prussian legislative assembly. Thus though the army remained intact,

and its Junker offi cers remained unconvinced, revolution proceeded superfi cially on its

way. The new Prussian Assembly met in Berlin in May and proved surprisingly radical,

because it was dominated by anti-Junker lower-class extremists from East Prussia. These

men supported Polish revolutionaries and exiles who sought the restoration of Polish free-

dom. Their main belief was that the fortress of reaction was tsarist Russia—that the whole

structure of Junkerdom, landlordism, serf-owning, and repression of national freedom

Obstacles to

unifi cation

German dualism

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517

depended ultimately on the armed might of the tsarist empire. (The subse-

quent intervention of Russia in Hungary indicated the truth of their diagno-

sis.) Prussian radicals, like many elsewhere, hoped to smash the old Holy

Alliance by raising an all-German or even European revolutionary war

against Russia.

Meanwhile the radicals in Berlin supported demands for local self-government by the

Poles of West Prussia and Posen. But in those areas Germans and Slavs had long lived side

by side, and the Germans in Posen now refused to respect the authority of Polish offi cials.

Prussian army units stationed in Posen supported the German element. As early as April

1848, a month after the “revolution,” the army began to crush new pro-Polish institutions

that had been set up in Posen. It was clear where the only real power lay. By the end of

1848, in Prussia as in Austria, the revolution was over. The king again changed his mind;

and the old authorities, acting through the army, were again in control.

The Frankfurt Assembly

Meanwhile a similar story was enacted on the larger stage of Germany as a whole. The

disabling of the old governments left a power vacuum. A self-appointed committee con-

voked a preliminary parliament, which in turn arranged for the election of an all-German

assembly. Bypassing the existing sovereignties, voters throughout Germany sent delegates

to Frankfurt to create a federated superstate. The strength and weakness of the resulting

Frankfurt Assembly originated in the manner in which it was elected. The Assembly repre-

sented the moral sentiment of people at large, the liberal and national aspirations of many

Germans. It stood for an idea, but the delegates had no power to issue orders or expect

compliance. Superfi cially resembling the National Assembly that met in France in 1789,

the German National Assembly at Frankfurt was really in a very different position. There

was no preexisting national structure for it to work with. There was no all-German army

or civil service for the Assembly to take over, as had happened after 1789 in revolutionary

France. The Frankfurt Assembly, having no power of its own, became dependent on the

power of the very sovereign states that it was attempting to supersede.

The Assembly met in May 1848 (thus convening in the same month as the more

regional Prussian Assembly that met in Berlin). Its members with a handful of exceptions

were not at all revolutionary. They were overwhelmingly professional people—professors,

judges, lawyers, government administrators, clergy both Protestant and Catholic, and

prominent businessmen. They wanted a liberal, self-governing, federally unifi ed,

and “democratic” though not egalitarian Germany. Their outlook was earnest, peaceable,

and legalistic; they hoped to succeed by persuasion. Violence was abhorrent to them. The

example of the June Days in Paris, and the Chartist agitation in Great Britain, coinciding

with the early weeks of the Frankfurt Assembly, increased the dread for radicalism and

republicanism in Germany. The fate of Germany (and also the later history of Europe) lay

in the fact that this German revolution came at a time when social revolutionaries had

already begun to declare war on the bourgeoisie and the bourgeoisie was already afraid of

the lower classes. It was the worker or artisan, not the professor or respectable merchant,

who in unsettled times had actually seized fi rearms and shouted revolutionary utterances in

the streets. Without lower-class insurrection not even middle-class revolutions have been

successful. The combination that came together in France between 1789 and 1794,

an unwilling and divergent combination of bourgeois and lower-class revolutionaries,

could not develop in Germany in 1848. One form of revolutionary power—controlled

Radical Prussian

Assembly

60. Frankfurt and Berlin: The Question of a Liberal Germany

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Chapter 12 Revolutions and the Reimposition of Order, 1848–1870518

popular turbulence—the Germans of the Frankfurt Assembly would not or

could not use. Quite the contrary: when radical riots broke out in Frankfurt

itself in September 1848, the Assembly undertook to repress them. Having

no force of its own, it appealed to the Prussian army. The Prussian army put

down the riots, and thereafter the Assembly met under its protection.

But the most troublesome question facing the Frankfurt Assembly was not social but

national. What, after all, was this “Germany” that so far existed only in the

mind? The Assembly at Frankfurt, eager to create a real Germany, naturally

could not propose a German state that would be smaller than the shadow

Germany that they so much deplored. Most members of the Assembly were

therefore Great Germans; they thought that the Germany for which they were writing a

constitution should include the Austrian lands, except Hungary. This would mean that the

federal crown must be offered to the Habsburgs. Others, at fi rst a minority, were Little

Germans; they thought that Austria should be excluded and that the new Germany should

comprise the smaller states and the entire kingdom of Prussia. In that case the king of

Prussia would become the federal emperor.

The desire of the Frankfurt Assembly to retain non-German peoples in the new

Germany, at a time when these peoples also were feeling national ambitions, was another

reason for its fatal dependency upon the Austrian and Prussian armies. The

Frankfurt Assembly applauded when an Austrian army broke the Czech

revolution and when Prussian forces put down the Poles in Posen. On this

matter the National Assembly at Frankfurt and the Prussian Assembly at

Berlin did not agree. The men of Frankfurt, thinking the Prussian revolu-

tionary assembly was too radical and pro-Polish, in effect supported the

Prussian army and the Junkers against the Berlin revolution, without which the Frankfurt

Assembly itself never could have existed. The Assembly, in short, turned against the revo-

lutionary movement in Berlin and lost its earlier base of popular support. When radical riots

later broke out against the Junkers, the tsar, and the Frankfurt Assembly itself, the Assem-

bly acknowledged its weak and vulnerable position by calling in Prussian forces for its

own protection.

The Failure of the Frankfurt Assembly

By the end of 1848 the debacle was approaching. The nationalists had checkmated each

other. Everywhere in central Europe, from Denmark to Naples and from the Rhineland to

Romania, the awakening nationalities had failed to respect each other’s aspirations; and by

quarreling with each other they had hastened the return of the old absolutist and nonnational

order. At Berlin and at Vienna the counterrevolution, backed by the army, was in the saddle.

At this very time, in December 1848, the Frankfurt Assembly at last issued a Declaration of

the Rights of the German People. It was a humane and high-minded document, announc-

ing numerous individual rights, civil liberties, and constitutional guarantees, much along

the line of the French and American declarations of the eighteenth century, but with one

signifi cant difference—the French and Americans spoke of the rights of man, while even

the liberal Germans spoke of the rights of Germans. In April 1849, the Frankfurt Assembly

completed its constitution. It was now clear that Austria must be excluded, for the simple

reason that the restored Habsburg government refused to come in. The Little Germans in

the Assembly therefore had their way. The hereditary headship of a new German Empire,

a constitutional and federal union of German states minus Austria, was now offered to

Frederick William IV, the king of Prussia.

Questions of territory

Dependence on

Austrian and

Prussian armies

An untimely

revolution

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519

Frederick William was tempted. The Prussian army offi cers and East Elbian landlords

were not. They had no wish to lose Prussia in Germany. The king himself had his scruples.

If he took the proffered crown, he would still have to impose himself by

force on the lesser states, which the Frankfurt Assembly did not represent

and which were in fact still the actual powers in the country. He could also

expect trouble with Austria. He did not want war. Nor was it proper for an

heir to the Hohenzollerns to accept a throne circumscribed with constitu-

tional limitations and representing the revolutionary conception of the sovereignty of the

people. Declaring that he could not “pick up a crown from the gutter,” he turned it down. It

would have to be offered freely by his equals, the sovereign princes of Germany.

Frederick William

tempted

The Frankfurt Assembly that convened in May 1848 (as depicted in this nineteenth-century illustration) consisted mostly of professional people who feared the working classes almost as much as or more than they feared the political powers of kings and Prussian aristocrats. The members of the Assembly wrote a constitution and sought to create a constitutional monarchy for all Germany outside Austria. But the Prussian king would not accept this kind of constitu- tional appointment to royal power and the Frankfurt Assembly’s national, democratic aspira- tions were blocked when the Assembly was dissolved in 1849. (akg-images/Newscom)

60. Frankfurt and Berlin: The Question of a Liberal Germany

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Chapter 12 Revolutions and the Reimposition of Order, 1848–1870520

Thus all the work of the Frankfurt Assembly went for nothing. Most

members of the Assembly, having never dreamed of using violence in the

fi rst place, concluded that they were beaten and went home. A handful of

extremists remained at Frankfurt, promulgated the constitution on their

own authority, urged revolutionary outbreaks, and called for elections. Riots broke out in

various places. The Prussian army put them down—in Saxony, in Bavaria, in Baden. The

same army drove the rump Assembly out of Frankfurt, and that was the end of it.

In summary, liberal nationalism failed to produce a unifi ed constitutional German state

in 1848, and a less liberal kind of nationalism soon replaced it. The weakness and failures

of German liberalism in 1848–1849 in the long run contributed to a complex estrangement

between Germany and western Europe. The failed revolutions of 1848 also pushed thou-

sands of disappointed German liberals and revolutionaries toward the United States, where

the stream of liberal immigrants came to be known as the “forty-eighters.”

In Prussia itself the ingenious monarch undertook to placate everybody by issuing a

constitution of his own, one that should be peculiarly Prussian. It remained in effect from

1850 to 1918. The Constitution established a single parliament for all the miscellaneous

regions of Prussia and divided the parliament into two chambers. The lower chamber was

elected by universal male suffrage, but the system of elections in effect divided the popula-

tion into three estates—the wealthy, the less wealthy, and the general run of the people.

Those few big taxpayers who together contributed a third of the tax returns chose a third of

the members of district electoral colleges, which in turn chose deputies to the Prussian

lower house. In this way one large property owner had as much voting power as hundreds

of working people. Large property in Prussia in 1850 still meant mainly the landed estates

of the East Elbian Junkers, but as time went on, it came to include industrial property in the

Rhineland also. The Junkers likewise were not harmed by the fi nal liquidation of serfdom.

They increased the acreage of their holdings, and the former servile agricultural workers

turned into free wage earners economically dependent on the great landowners.

For 1850 the Prussian constitution was fairly progressive. If the mass

of the people in Prussia could elect very few deputies, the mass of the

British people, until 1867 or even 1884, could elect no deputies to Parlia-

ment at all. But the Prussian constitution remained in force until 1918. By

the close of the nineteenth century, with democratic advances making their

appearance elsewhere, the electoral system in Prussia came to be reactionary and illib-

eral, giving the great landowners and industrialists an unusual position of special privilege

within the state.

61. THE NEW EUROPEAN “ISMS”: REALISM, POSITIVISM, MARXISM

The revolutions of 1848 failed not only in Germany but also in Hungary, Italy, and

France. The “springtime of peoples,” as it was called, was followed by chilling blasts of

winter. The dreams of half a century, visions of a humane nationalism, aspirations for

liberalism without violence, ideals of a peaceful and democratic republican common-

wealth, were all exploded. Everywhere the cry had been for constitutional government, but

only in a few small states—Denmark, Holland, Belgium, Switzerland, Piedmont—was

constitutional liberty more fi rmly secured by the revolutions of 1848. Everywhere the cry

had been for the freedom of nations, to unify national groups or rid them of foreign rule;

but nowhere was national liberty more advanced in 1850 than it had been two years

The Prussian

Constitution of 1850

The failure of liberal

nationalism

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52161. The New European “Isms”: Realism, Positivism, Marxism

before. France obtained universal male suffrage in 1848 and kept it permanently thereafter

(except for a brief reversion to a restricted suffrage in 1850–1851), but it did not obtain

democracy; it obtained a kind of popular dictatorship under Louis Napoleon Bonaparte.

One accomplishment, however, was real enough. The peasantry was emancipated in the

German states and the Austrian Empire. Serfdom and manorial restraints

were abolished, nor were they reimposed after the failure of the revolutions.

This was the most fundamental accomplishment of the whole movement.

The peasant masses of central Europe were thereafter free to move about,

fi nd new jobs, enter a labor market, take part in a money economy, receive

and spend wages, migrate to growing cities—or even go to the United States. But the peas-

ants, once freed, showed little concern for constitutional or bourgeois ideas. Peasant eman-

cipation, in fact, strengthened the forces of political counterrevolution.

The most immediate and far-reaching consequence of the 1848 revolutions, or of their

failure, was a new kind of intellectual and political realism. Idealism and romanticism

were discredited in European culture and politics. Revolutionaries became less optimis-

tic; conservatives, more willing to exercise repression. It was now a point of pride to be

realistic, emancipated from illusions, willing to face facts as they were. The future, it was

thought, would be determined by present realities rather than by imaginings of what ought

to be. Industrialization went forward, with England still far in the lead, but now spreading

New freedoms for

peasants

CHRONOLOGY OF NOTABLE EVENTS, 1848–1857

January 1848 Marx and Engels publish the Communist Manifesto

February 1848 Revolution in Paris; proclamation of the Second French Republic

March 1848 Revolutions in Vienna, Berlin, Bohemia, and Hungary; Metternich

fl ees from Vienna to England; legal serfdom is abolished in central

Europe

March 1848 Italians rise against Austrian rule in northern Italy

May 1848 Prussian Legislative Assembly meets in Berlin

May 1848 All-German Frankfurt Assembly convenes to draft constitution for a

unifi ed German state

June 1848 Thousands die in worker-army clashes in Paris

June–December 1848 Counterrevolutionary forces regain control of Austrian Empire:

Bohemia, northern Italy, Hungary, Vienna

December 1848 Louis Napoleon Bonaparte is elected president of French Republic;

Francis Joseph becomes emperor of Austrian Empire

April 1849 King Frederick William IV of Prussia rejects Frankfurt Assembly’s

constitution and offer of hereditary rule in a federal German state;

Frankfurt Assembly is dissolved

1852 Louis Napoleon Bonaparte becomes “Emperor Napoleon III” and

establishes Second French Empire

1853–1870 Baron Haussmann supervises the modern rebuilding of Paris

1857 Gustave Flaubert publishes Madame Bovary

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Chapter 12 Revolutions and the Reimposition of Order, 1848–1870522

across the Continent and initiating the momentous transformation of Germany. The 1850s

were a period of rising prices and wages, thanks in part to the gold rush in California.

There was more prosperity than in the 1840s; the propertied classes felt more secure, and

spokesmen for labor turned from theories of society to the organizing of viable unions,

especially in the skilled trades.

Materialism, Realism, Positivism

The mid-nineteenth-century intellectual themes appeared in a new philosophical emphasis

on materialism, holding that everything mental, spiritual, or ideal was an outgrowth of

physical or physiological forces. In literature and the arts the new themes contributed to

descriptions or portrayals of the social world that came to be called realism. Writers and

painters broke away from romanticism, which they said colored things out of all relation to

the real facts. The “realists” attempted to represent and reproduce life as they found it, with-

out intimation of a better or nobler world. The French writer Gustave Flaubert, for example,

wrote meticulous descriptions of a provincial woman’s tedious, unhappy marriage in his

famous novel Madame Bovary (1857), a book that both mocked the illusions of romantic literature and showed the new artistic desire for a precise, unsentimental literary language.

More people in this era came to trust science, not merely for an understanding of nature but

for insights into the true meaning of human life and social relations. In religion the move-

ment was toward skepticism, renewing skeptical trends of the eighteenth century, which

had been somewhat interrupted during the intervening period of romanticism. It was vari-

ously held, not by all but by many intellectuals and other persons in the urban professional

classes, that religion was unscientifi c and hence not to be taken seriously; or that it was a

mere historical growth among peoples in certain stages of development and hence irrele-

vant to modern civilization; or that one ought to go to church and lead a decent life, without

taking the priest or clergyman too seriously, because religion was necessary to preserve the

social order against radicalism and anarchy. To this idea the radical or working-class coun-

terpart was the claim that religion was a bourgeois invention to delude the people.

“Positivism” was another term used to describe the new attitude. It origi-

nated with the French philosopher Auguste Comte, who had begun to publish

his numerous volumes on Positive Philosophy as long ago as 1830 and was still writing in the 1850s. He saw human history as a series of three stages,

the theological, the metaphysical, and the scientifi c. The French revolutions of 1789 and

1848 suffered, in his view, from an excess of metaphysical abstractions, empty words, and

unverifi able high-fl ying principles. According to Comte, those who worked for the improve-

ment of society must adopt a strictly scientifi c outlook, and he set out to promote this out-

look by producing an elaborate classifi cation of the sciences, of which the highest would be

the science of society, for which he coined the word “sociology.” This new science would

build upon the systematic observation of actual “positive” facts to develop broad scientifi c

laws of social progress. Comte himself, and his closest disciples, envisaged a fi nal scientifi c

Religion of Humanity, which, stripped of archaic theological and metaphysical concerns,

would serve as the basis for a better world in the future. More generally, however, positiv-

ism came to mean an insistence on verifi able facts, an avoidance of wishful thinking, a

questioning of all assumptions, and a dislike of unprovable generalizations. Positivism in a

broad sense, both in its demand for observation of facts and testing of ideas, and in its aspi-

ration to be humanly useful, contributed to the growth of the social sciences as a branch of

learning and as an intellectual foundation for the belief in historical progress.

Auguste Comte

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In politics the new emphasis on realism came to be known by the

German term Realpolitik. This simply meant a “politics of reality.” In domes- tic affairs it meant that people should give up utopian dreams, such as had

caused the revolutionary debacle of 1848, and content themselves with the blessings of an

orderly, honest, hard-working government. For radicals it meant that people should stop

imagining that the new society would result from goodness or the love of justice and that

social reformers must resort to the strategic methods of politics—power and calculation.

In international affairs Realpolitik meant that governments should not be guided by ideology, or by any system of “natural” enemies or “natural” allies, or by any desire to defend or

promote any particular view of the world; but that they should follow their own practical

or strategic interests, meet facts and actual situations as they arose, make any alliances that

seemed useful, disregard ethical theories and scruples, and use any practical means to achieve

their ends. The same persons who before 1848 had been not ashamed to express pacifi st and

cosmopolitan hopes now dismissed such ideas as a little softheaded. War, which govern-

ments had successfully tried to prevent since the fi nal overthrow of Napoleon in 1815, was

accepted in the 1850s as a strategic option that was sometimes needed to achieve a political

purpose. It was not especially glorious; it was not an end in itself; it was simply one of the

tools of realistic statesmanship. Realpolitik was by no means confi ned to Germany or even to the leaders of European governments, despite its German name and despite the fact that the

famous German chancellor Bismarck became its most famous practitioner. Two other tough-

minded thinkers, each in his own way, were Karl Marx and Louis Napoleon Bonaparte.

Early Marxism

Karl Marx and Friedrich Engels were among the disappointed revolutionaries of 1848.

Marx (1818–1883) was the son of a lawyer in the Prussian Rhineland. He studied law and

philosophy at several German universities and received a doctoral degree in 1841. Unable

to fi nd an academic job, Marx associated with radical German intellectuals, began writing

for left-wing journals, and soon moved to Paris with other Germans who wanted to pro-

duce philosophical publications in the historic birthplace of modern revolutions. Engels

(1820–1893), the son of a well-to-do German textile manufacturer, was sent as a young

man to Manchester in England where his father owned a factory, to learn the business and

then manage it. Marx and Engels met in Paris in 1844. The French government forced

Marx to leave Paris early in the following year, but Marx and Engels would continue a

close intellectual and political collaboration over the next 40 years, mostly

in England.

In 1847 they joined the Communist League, a tiny secret group of rev-

olutionaries, mainly Germans in exile in the more liberal cities of western

Europe. The word “communist” then had only a vague and uncertain mean-

ing, and the League, as Engels later recalled, was at fi rst “not actually much more than the

German branch of the French secret societies.” It agitated like other societies during the

revolutions of 1848 and issued a set of “Demands of the Communist Party in Germany,”

which urged a unifi ed indivisible German republic; democratic suffrage; universal free

education; arming of the people; a progressive income tax; limitations upon inheritance;

state ownership of banks, railroads, canals, mines, and the like; and a degree of large-scale,

scientifi c, collectivized agriculture. It was such obscurely voiced radicalism that alarmed

the Frankfurt Assembly. With the triumph of counterrevolution in Germany the Communist

League was crushed.

The Communist

League

Realpolitik

61. The New European “Isms”: Realism, Positivism, Marxism

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Chapter 12 Revolutions and the Reimposition of Order, 1848–1870524

It was for this League that Marx and Engels wrote their Communist Manifesto, which was published in January 1848. But there was as yet no Marxism, and Marxism played no

role in the revolutions of 1848; it would not really emerge as a historical force in European

societies until the 1870s. Meanwhile, with the failure of the revolutions, Engels returned

to his factory at Manchester. Marx also settled in England, spending the rest of his life in

London, where, after long labors in the library of the British Museum, he fi nally produced

his huge work called Capital, of which the fi rst volume was published in German in 1867. The fi nal two volumes were edited by Engels and published after Marx’s death.

Sources and Content of Marxism

Marxism may be said to have had three sources or to have merged three national streams

of early nineteenth-century European history: German philosophy, French revolutionism,

and the British Industrial Revolution. As a student in Germany, and for a

while thereafter, Marx mingled with a group known as Young Hegelians,

who were actually critics of Hegel in that they expected the course of his-

tory to lead to a free and democratic society, instead of to the existing

Prussian state as Hegel had maintained. They joined with liberals in resisting the repres-

sive measures that prevailed in Germany after the defeat of Napoleon. Like democrats

and republicans, they believed that the promise of the French Revolution had not yet been

fulfi lled, because social and economic equality as well as a true political equality should

The Young Hegelians

A BURIAL AT ORNANS by Gustave Courbet (French, 1819–1877)

A new realism emerged in many spheres of European culture after the failure of the revo- lutions in 1848. The artist Courbet in fact began to use the term “realism” in this period to describe his work, which frequently depicted ordinary people and peasants on monumental can- vasses. Paintings such as this portrayal of a funeral in the French countryside disturbed many nineteenth-century critics because Courbet painted images of the lower classes and also because he refused to romanticize his subjects or to portray common people in sentimental poses. (Album/Art Resource, NY)

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525

follow the civil and legal equality already won. In keeping with the general movement of

romanticism, the Young (or left) Hegelians hoped for a more personal emancipation from

the trammels of society, government, and religion.

In the mid-1840s, elaborating on Hegel, Marx developed the idea of the alienation of

labor, a social experience and state of mind produced when human beings in the historic

process of mechanization become estranged from the objects on which they work. This

alienation, as Marx described it, was a distinctive feature of modern capitalist societies.

The economic system of wage labor and private ownership of the means of production kept

workers from identifying with or benefi ting from the products of their labor. In fact, Marx

argued, the wealth (or capital) that workers produced was regularly used against them in

the social and political institutions of capitalist societies. It followed that true freedom

would become possible only when private property in capital goods was abolished. Some

of the early writings in which these ideas were worked out in the 1840s were not published

until a century later. They then led to a wide-ranging reconsideration

of Marxism, in which the early Marx was seen more as a social analyst,

“left” Hegelian philosopher or critical historian than as a revolutionary. But

Marx’s early writings had little impact on the growth of Marxism as a pro-

gram for revolutionary socialism in the nineteenth century.

Engels, engaged in the Manchester cotton industry, possessed a personal knowledge of

the new industrial and factory system in England. He was in touch with some of the most

radical Chartists, though he had no confi dence in Chartism as a constructive movement.

Engels and British

industrialism

Workers in Manchester came to be known as some of the most impoverished in the new industrial age, partly because writers such as Friedrich Engels focused on the city in their critiques of the capi- talist economy. This image of a demoral- ized worker was published in Elizabeth Gaskell’s novel Mary Barton (1848), a popular work that portrayed the miseries of the heroine’s unhappy working-class father in Manchester. (Lebrecht/The Image Works)

61. The New European “Isms”: Realism, Positivism, Marxism

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Chapter 12 Revolutions and the Reimposition of Order, 1848–1870526

In 1844 he published a revealing book, The Condition of the Working Classes in England. He drew from his observations much the same conclusions that Marx drew from philo-

sophical analysis and historical study. The depressed condition of labor was an actual fact.

It was a fact that labor received a relatively small portion of the national income and that

much of the product of society was being reinvested in capital goods, which belonged

as private property to private persons. Government and parliamentary institutions, also

as a matter of fact, were in the hands of the well-to-do in both Great Britain and France.

Religion was commonly viewed as necessary for keeping the lower classes in order, but

such views did not encourage the kinds of reform movements that religious groups had

often led in other centuries and in other cultures. The churches at the time actually took

little interest in problems of the workers. The family, as an institution, was indeed disinte-

grating among laboring people in the cities, through exploitation of women and children

and the overcrowding in inadequate and unsanitary living quarters.

Much of this was seized upon and dramatized in the Communist Manifesto as a sum- mons to revolution. The outbreak of revolution in France in February 1848, and its rapid

spread to other countries, confi rmed Marx and Engels in their beliefs. They interpreted the

actual class war that shook Paris in the June Days as a manifestation of a universal class

struggle, in which the workers or proletariat would rise against the owners

of capital, the bourgeoisie.

As a call to action, the Communist Manifesto was meant to be infl am- matory. It went beyond facts to denunciation and exhortation. It said that

workers were deprived of the wealth they had themselves created. It called

the state a committee of the bourgeoisie for the exploitation of the people. Religion was a

drug to keep the worker quietly dreaming upon imaginary heavenly rewards. The women

and children in working-class families had been brutalized by the bourgeoisie, and many

women were forced into prostitution. It seemed to Marx and Engels that uprooted workers

should be loyal to nothing—except their own class. Even the worker’s native country, in

their view, had become meaningless. The proletarian had no country. Workers everywhere

had the same problems and faced everywhere the same enemy. Therefore “let the rul-

ing classes tremble at a communist revolution. The proletarians have nothing to lose but

their chains. They have a world to win. Workingmen of all countries, unite!” So closed

the Manifesto. But Marx was no mere revolutionary schemer like the “revolution-makers,” as he later

scornfully called them. His mature thought was a system for producing revolution, but it

showed how revolution would necessarily come by operation of vast historical forces.

It was from English sources that Marx developed much of his eco-

nomic theory, as expounded at length in Capital. From British political economy he adopted the subsistence theory of wages, or Iron Law (which

orthodox economists presently abandoned because wages did in fact begin

to rise). It held that the average worker could never obtain more than a

minimum living standard—of which the corollary, for those who wished to draw it, was

that the existing economic system held out no better future for the laboring class as a class.

Marx likewise took over from orthodox economists the labor theory of value, holding that

the value of any human-made object depended ultimately on the amount of labor put into

it—capital being regarded as the stored up labor of former times. Orthodox economists, it

must be said, soon discarded the theory that economic value is produced by the input of

labor alone. Marx, from the labor theory, developed his doctrine of surplus value, which,

to simplify, meant in effect that workers were being robbed because they received in wages

The Communist

Manifesto

British political

economy

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527

only a fraction of the value of the products that their labor produced. The difference was

expropriated by the bourgeois capitalists—the private owners of the factories and the

machines. And because workers never received in wages the equivalent of what they pro-

duced, capitalism was constantly menaced by overproduction, the accumulation of goods

that people could not afford to buy. Hence it ran repeatedly into crises and depressions and

was obliged also to be constantly expanding in search of new markets. It was the depres-

sion of 1847, according to Marx, that had precipitated the revolutions of 1848; and with

every such depression during the rest of his lifetime Marx hoped that the day of the great

social revolution was drawing nearer.

What brought all these observations together in a unifi ed and compel-

ling doctrine was the philosophy of dialectical materialism. By dialectic,

Marx meant what the German philosopher Hegel had meant, that all things

are in movement and in evolution and that all change comes through the

clash of antagonistic elements. The word itself, coming from the Greek, meant originally

a way of arriving at a higher conclusion through a series of propositions, as in a logical

argument. The implications of the dialectic, for both Hegel and Marx, were that all his-

tory is a process of development in which events unfold in a clear historical direction; that

every event happens for good and suffi cient reasons; and that history—though not exactly

predetermined—is always shaped by impersonal forces and deep structural changes rather

than by individuals or chance events.

Marx differed from Hegel in one vital respect. Whereas Hegel emphasized the

primacy of ideas in social change, Marx gave emphasis to the primacy of material condi-

tions, or the relations of production, which included technology, inventions, natural

resources, and property systems. These material realities create the social world in which

people live. It is the relations of production that determine what kind of religions, philoso-

phies, governments, laws, and moral values are accepted. To believe that ideas precede and

generate actualities was, according to Marx, the error of Hegel. Hegel had thought, for

example, that the mind conceives the idea of freedom, which it then realizes in the Greek

city-state, in Christianity, in the French Revolution, and in the kingdom of Prussia. Not at

all, according to Marx: the idea of freedom, or any other idea, was generated by specifi c

economic and social conditions. Conditions were the roots; ideas, the trees. Hegel had held

the ideas to be the roots and the resulting actual conditions to be the trees.

Or as Marx and Engels said, they found Hegel standing on his head and set

him on his feet again.

In the picture of historical development offered by Marx material

conditions, or the relations of production, give rise to economic classes.

Agrarian conditions produce a landholding or feudal class, but with changes in trade

routes, money, and productive techniques a new commercial or bourgeois class arises. Each

class, feudal and bourgeois, develops an ideology suited to its needs. Prevailing religions,

governments, laws, and morals, as Marx described them, refl ect the outlook and interests

of these classes. The two classes inevitably clash. Bourgeois revolutions against feudal

interests break out when bourgeois economic development becomes increasingly con-

strained by the political power of the older feudal or aristocratic class—as in England in

1642, in France in 1789, in Germany in 1848, though the bourgeois revolution in Germany

proved abortive.

Meanwhile, as the bourgeois class develops, it inevitably calls another class into

being, its dialectical antithesis, the proletariat. The bourgeois is defi ned as the private

owner of capital, the proletarian as the wage worker who possesses nothing but his or her

Dialectical

materialism

Historical

development

61. The New European “Isms”: Realism, Positivism, Marxism

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Chapter 12 Revolutions and the Reimposition of Order, 1848–1870528

own hands. The more a country becomes bourgeois, the more it becomes proletarian. The

more production is concentrated in factories, the more the revolutionary laboring class is

built up. Under competitive conditions the bourgeois tend to devour and absorb each other;

ownership of the factories, mines, machines, and railroads (capital) becomes concentrated

into very few hands. Others sink into the proletariat. In the end the proletarianized mass

simply takes over from the remaining bourgeois. It “expropriates the expropriators,” and a

social revolution abolishes private property in the means of production.

Marx assumed that this revolution would create a classless society, because social

classes arose from economic differences that would disappear. The state and religion,

being outgrowths of bourgeois interests, would also disappear. For a time, until all vestiges

of bourgeois interests had been rooted out, or until the danger of counterrevolution against

socialism had been overcome, there would be a “dictatorship of the proletariat.” After that

the state would “wither away,” because there would no longer be an exploit-

ing class that required it.

In the meantime, bourgeois and proletarian are locked in a univer-

sal struggle; and workers and labor unions must be kept in a belligerent

and revolutionary mood. Marx wanted workers always to recognize that

the employer is their class enemy and that government, law, morality,

and religion are merely so much artillery directed against them. Workers must never let

themselves be fooled; they must learn how to detect the class interest underlying the most

exalted institutions and beliefs. In this constant gathering of military intelligence, ferreting

out the strategies of their class enemy, they would be helped by intellectuals especially

trained in explaining it to them.

Class war between

bourgeois and

proletariat

Karl Marx as he appeared near the end of his life. By the time he sat for this photograph in the early 1880s, he had been living in London for about 30 years, but he had developed many of his social and histori- cal theories while living on the European continent in the political, economic, and revo- lutionary context of the 1840s. (The Bridgeman Art Library/Getty

Images)

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529

Given this enduring class struggle, it would be dangerous—in Marx’s

view—for labor unions merely to obtain better wages or hours by nego-

tiation with employers, for by such little gains the war itself might be for-

gotten. It would likewise be dangerous, and even treasonous, for workers to put faith in

democratic machinery or “social legislation,” for the state, an engine of repression, could

never be made into an instrument of welfare. Law simply expressed the will of the stronger

class; “right” and “justice” were thin emanations of class interest. We must hold, wrote

Marx in 1875, to “the realistic outlook which has cost so much effort to instill into the

party, but which has now taken root in it”; and it was by such claims to realism or a “real-

istic outlook” that Marx sought to separate communism from earlier socialist theories.

Marx’s many critics have long argued, however, that his own theories (though claiming

a new realism) actually proposed inadequate or unrealistic accounts of human history as

well as the future development of industrial societies.

The Signifi cance of Marxism: Its Strength and Weaknesses

The original Marxism was a hard doctrine, with both advantages and handicaps in the

winning of adherents. One of its advantages was its claim to be scientifi c. Marx classifi ed

earlier and rival forms of socialism as utopian: they rested on moral indignation, and their

formula for reforming society was for human beings to become more just, or for the upper

classes to enact reforms as they became more responsive or sympathetic to the needs of

the lower classes. His own doctrine, Marx insisted, had nothing to do with ethical ideas;

it was purely scientifi c, resting upon the study of actual facts and real processes, and it

showed that socialism would be a historical continuation rather than a miraculous reversal

of what was already taking place. He also considered it utopian and unscientifi c to describe

the future socialist society in any detail. It would be classless, with neither bourgeois nor

proletarian; but to lay any specifi c plans would be idle dreaming. Let the revolution come,

and socialism would take care of itself.

Marxism thus brought together ideas that were scientifi c, historical, philosophical,

political, and apocalyptic. But some elements of Marxism stood in the way of its success-

ful propagation, even among the lower classes. The working people of Europe were not

really in the frame of mind of an army in battle. They hesitated to subordinate all else to

the distant prospect of a class revolution. They were not exclusively class-

people, nor did they behave as such. They still held to religious beliefs or to

a political faith in natural rights that could not portray morality as simply a

class weapon or right and justice as bourgeois deceptions. Increasingly,

they had national loyalties to their own countries. Only with great diffi culty

could they associate themselves emotionally with a world proletariat in an unrelenting

struggle against their own neighbors.

The cure for the revolutionism of 1848 proved in time to be the admission of the

laboring classes to a fuller membership in society. Wages generally rose after 1850, labor

unions were organized, and by 1870 in the principal European countries the workingman

very generally had gained the right to vote. Through their unions, workers were often able

to get better wages and working conditions by direct pressure upon employers. Having the

vote, they gradually formed working-class parties, and as they proceeded to act through

the state, they had less inclination to destroy it. Marx’s dismissive term for these maneu-

vers was “opportunism,” but such political campaigns gained increasing support among

workers, most of whom wanted to better themselves by dealing with employers and by

obtaining social reforms through existing government institutions rather than by waging

Confl icting working-

class values

Worker solidarity

61. The New European “Isms”: Realism, Positivism, Marxism

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Chapter 12 Revolutions and the Reimposition of Order, 1848–1870530

class war. From Marxism the working class absorbed much, including a

watchful hostility to employers and a sense of working-class solidarity; but

on the whole, as Marxism spread at the close of the nineteenth century, it

ceased to be really revolutionary. Had the old Europe not gone to pieces in the twentieth-

century wars, and had Marxism not been revived by Lenin and transplanted to Russia, it is

probable that Marx’s ideas would have been gradually domesticated into the general body

of European thought and that much less would have been said about them in later years in

Europe or elsewhere.

62. BONAPARTISM: THE SECOND FRENCH EMPIRE, 1852–1870

The new realism in European culture after 1848 extended also to the exercise of post-

revolutionary political power. We have seen how Louis Napoleon Bonaparte, elected pres-

ident of the French Republic in 1848, soon made himself Emperor of the French with the

title of Napoleon III. Those willing to fi ght for the parliamentary and liberal institutions

that he crushed were silenced. He became chief of state and then Emperor (in 1852) on a

wave of popular acclaim.

Political Institutions of the Second Empire

Napoleon III, like Napoleon I, came to power because of the fear of radicalism in a dis-

credited republic. Otherwise he bore little resemblance to his famous uncle. He was not a

professional soldier or a great organizer. When he became president of the republic at the

age of 40 he had been an adventurer and a conspirator, but he undoubtedly felt more con-

cern than Napoleon I for the plight of the working classes. Where Napoleon I had been

disdainful of public opinion, his nephew recognized it as an opportunity, not a nuisance.

Though journalists and intellectuals generally distrusted him, he drew some of them to his

side; he tried to placate the Catholic interests; and he appealed to the masses by giving

them the vote (however useless), by promises of prosperity, and by pageantry. He under-

stood perfectly that a single leader exerts more magnetism than an elected assembly. And

he knew that a Europe still shuddering over the June Days was hoping desperately for

order in France.

He gloried in modern progress. Toward the changes coming over

Europe the monarchs of the old school usually showed an attitude of timid-

ity and doubt if not positive opposition. Napoleon III boldly offered himself

as the strong leader who would move France toward a brave new world.

Like his uncle, he announced that he embodied the sovereignty of the people. He said that

he had found a solution to the problem of mass democracy. In all the other great Continen-

tal states and in Great Britain, in 1852, universal suffrage was thought to be incompatible

with intelligent government and economic prosperity. Napoleon III claimed to put them

together. Like Marx and other “realists” after 1848 he held that elected parliamentary bod-

ies, far from representing an abstract “people,” only accentuated class divisions within a

country. He declared that the regime of the restored Bourbons and the July Monarchy had

been dominated by special interests; that the republic of 1848 had fi rst been violent and

anarchic and then had fallen into the hands of a distrustful assembly that robbed the labor-

ing man of his vote; and that France would fi nd in the empire the permanent, popular, and

modern system for which it had been vainly searching since 1789. He affi rmed that he

Modern progress

Opportunism

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53162. Bonapartism: The Second French Empire, 1852–1870

stood above classes and would govern equally in the interests of all. In any case, like many

other political leaders after 1848, he held that forms of government were less important

than economic and social realities.

The political institutions of the Second Empire were therefore authori-

tarian, modeled on those of the Consulate of the fi rst Bonaparte. There was

a Council of State, composed of experts who drafted legislation and advised

on technical matters. There was also an appointive Senate and a Legislative

Body, which was elected by universal male suffrage in carefully managed

elections. But the Legislative Body had no real power to make laws, set the budget, or

control the army. Parliamentary life was reduced almost to absolute zero.

To captivate public attention and glorify the Napoleonic name the new emperor set up

a sumptuous court at the Tuileries. Balked in the ambition to marry into one of the great

dynasties, Napoleon III chose as his empress a young Spanish noblewoman, Eugénie, who

was destined to outlive the empire by 50 years, dying in 1920. It was said to be a love

match—a sure sign of popularized royalty. The court life of the empire was brilliant and

showy beyond anything known at the time in St. Petersburg or Vienna, and the pageantry

was expanded into the embellishment of the city of Paris. Baron Haussmann, who served

as Napoleon III’s creative, strong-willed city planner for major renovations in the French

capital, gave Paris much of the appearance that it has today. He built roomy railway sta-

tions with broad approaches, and he constructed a system of boulevards and public squares

offering long vistas ending in fi ne buildings or monuments, as at the Place de l’Opéra. He

also modernized the sewers and the water supply. The building program, like the expen-

sive court, had the additional advantage of stimulating business and employment. And the

cutting of wide avenues through the crooked streets and congested old houses would per-

mit easier military operations against insurrectionists entrenched behind barricades, should

the events of 1848 ever be repeated.

Economic Developments under the Empire

It was as a great social engineer that Napoleon III preferred to be known. In his youth he had

tried to understand the riddle of modern industrialism, and now, as emperor, he found some

of his main backers in former Saint-Simonians, who called him their “socialist emperor.”

Saint-Simon, it may be recalled, had been among the fi rst to conceive of a centrally planned

industrial system. But the Saint-Simonians of the 1850s shared the new desire to be realistic,

and their most signifi cant triumph was the invention of investment banking, by which they

hoped to guide economic growth through the concentration of fi nancial resources. They

founded a novel kind of banking institution, the Crédit Mobilier, which raised funds by sell- ing its shares to the public, and with the funds thus obtained bought stock in such new indus-

trial enterprises as it wished to develop. France entered a new phase of rapid economic

development—a distinctive French version of the Industrial Revolution.

The times were exceedingly favorable for expansion, for the discovery

of gold in California in 1849, and in Australia soon afterward, together

with the newly organized credit facilities, brought a substantial increase in

the European money supply, which had a mildly infl ationary effect. The

steady rise of prices and all money values encouraged the expansion of new companies

and the investment of capital. Railway mileage, increasing everywhere in the Western

world, increased in France from 3,000 to 16,000 kilometers in the 1850s. The demand

for rolling stock, iron rails, auxiliary equipment, and building materials for stations and

Authoritarian

political institutions

Expansion

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Chapter 12 Revolutions and the Reimposition of Order, 1848–1870532

freight houses kept the mines and factories busy. The railway network was rationalized, 55

small lines in France being merged into six big regional trunks. Iron steamboats replaced

wooden sailing ships. Between 1859 and 1869 a French company built the Suez Canal,

which it continued to own for almost a century, though the British government after 1875

was the principal stockholder.

Large French corporations made their appearance, in railroads and banking fi rst of all.

In 1863 the law granted the right of “limited liability,” by which a stockholder could not

lose more than the par value of the stock, however insolvent or debt-burdened the corpora-

tion might become. This encouraged investment by persons of small means, and by capi-

talists large and small in enterprises of which they knew very little; thus the wealth and

savings of the country were more effectively mobilized and put to work. Stocks and shares

became more numerous and diversifi ed. The Stock Exchange boomed. Financiers—those

whose business was to handle money, credit, and securities—assumed a new eminence in

the capitalistic world. Many people became very rich, richer perhaps than anyone had ever

been in France before.

The emperor aspired also to do something for the working class, within the limits of

the existing system. Jobs were plentiful and wages were good, by the ideas of the day, at

least until the temporary depression of 1857. The emperor had a plan, as did some of the

Saint-Simonians, for organizing forces of workers in military fashion and setting them to

clear and develop uncultivated land. Not much was done in this direction.

More was accomplished in the humanitarian relief of suffering. Hospitals

and asylums were established, and free medicines were distributed. The

outlines of a social-welfare state began somewhat vaguely to appear. Mean-

while the workers were building up unions. All combinations of workers

had been prohibited during the French Revolution, a prohibition that was deemed to be still

in force until the ambiguous legal position of labor unions began to change. In 1864 it even

became legal for organized workers to go on strike. Large labor units, or unions, and large

business units, or corporations, were thus legalized at the same time. Napoleon III hardly

did enough for labor to rank as a working-class hero, but he did enough to be suspected as

“socialistic” by many middle-class people of the day.

Later authoritarian regimes, bent like the Second Empire on a program of economic

development, were usually highly protectionist, but Napoleon III believed in freedom of

international trade. He had a project for a tariff union with Belgium, which some Belgians

also supported. Belgium was already well industrialized, and a Franco-Belgium union,

especially because Belgium had the coal that France lacked, would have formed a

trading area of very great strength. The plan was blocked by private interests in both coun-

tries, however, and strongly opposed by both Great Britain and the German Zollverein. The emperor then turned to an all-around reduction of import duties. Since the repeal of the

Corn Laws in 1846 the free traders were in power in England. They were eager to abolish

trade barriers between Britain and France. Napoleon III, overriding unusual

opposition in his Legislative Body, concluded a free trade treaty with Great

Britain in 1860. He set aside 40 million francs of government funds to assist

French manufacturers in making adjustments to British competition; but

this sum was never spent in full, which suggests that French industry was

generally able to compete successfully with the more intensively mechanized industry of

Britain. The Anglo-French treaty was accompanied by lesser trade agreements with other

countries. It looked, in the 1860s, as if Europe might actually be about to enter a new era

of economic cooperation and free trade.

Napoleon’s

“socialistic” initiatives

Free trade treaty with

Britain

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533

Internal Diffi culties and War

But by 1860 the empire was running into trouble. It took a few years to overcome the

depression of 1857. By his policy of free trade the emperor made enemies among certain

industrialists. The Catholics objected to his intervention in Italy, where he briefl y joined

an anti-Austrian military campaign in 1859. After 1860 opposition mounted. The emperor

granted more leeway to the Legislative Body. The 1860s are called the decade of the

Liberal Empire—all such terms being relative. We shall never know how the empire

might have evolved through these internal changes, because Louis Napoleon actually

ruined himself by war. His empire evaporated on the battlefi eld in 1870,

but he was at war long before that.

“The empire means peace,” he had assured his audiences in 1852:

l’Empire, c’ est la paix. But war is after all a supreme form of pageantry (or was then); France was the strongest country in Europe, and the emperor’s

name was Napoleon. Less than a year and a half after the proclamation of the empire

France was at war with a European state for the fi rst time since Waterloo. The enemy was

Russia, and the war was fought mainly on the Crimean Peninsula along the north coast of

the Black Sea. Napoleon III did not alone instigate the Crimean War, and yet this confl ict

“The empire means

peace”

Napoleon III’s ambitious plan to rebuild the city of Paris became one of the great urban projects of modern times. Organized by the strong-willed Baron Haussmann, the systematic, controversial reconstruction of Parisian streets, parks, buildings, sewers, and monuments transformed the city and produced an aesthetic grandeur that has drawn visitors ever since. This photograph shows some of the construction workers and the tools they used to build the new streets. (Giraudon/Art Resource, NY)

62. Bonapartism: The Second French Empire, 1852–1870

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Chapter 12 Revolutions and the Reimposition of Order, 1848–1870534

showed his inclination to send French armies abroad. Many forces in Europe after 1848

pushed toward war; but Napoleon III was one of these forces. In 1859 the new Napoleon

was fi ghting in Italy, from 1862 to 1867 in Mexico, and in 1870 in France itself, in a war

with Prussia that he could easily have avoided. These wars were limited in scope and

duration (as compared to the huge Napoleonic wars in the early nineteenth century), but

they formed part of the wider European struggles for international infl uence, which are

discussed in chapter 13.

It is enough to say here that in 1870 the Second Empire went the way of the First, into

the limbo of governments tried and discarded by the French. It had lasted 18 years, exactly

as long as the July Monarchy, and longer than any other regime known in France, up to that

time, since the fall of the Bastille. Not until the twentieth century, when dictators sprouted

all over Europe, did people begin to recognize that the authoritarian Louis Napoleon had

been an omen of the future rather than a bizarre reincarnation of the past.

For suggested further readings and useful Web sites, interactive exercises, glossary, chronologies,

and more, go to the Online Learning Center at www.mhhe.com/palmerhistory11e.

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535

C h a p t e r 13 THE

CONSOLIDATION

OF LARGE NATION-

STATES, 1859–1871

The rise   of nineteenth-century nationalism and the quest for unifi ed national governments led to

a remarkable consolidation of nation-states dur-

ing the 12 years after 1859. Notable political uni-

fi cations and reforms in Europe during this period

included the formation of a new German empire,

a unifi ed kingdom of Italy, the Dual Monarchy of

Austria-Hungary, and the introduction of drastic

internal changes in tsarist Russia. Although this

chapter focuses mainly on national consolidations

within Europe, it is also important to note that

the historical movement toward the unifi cation

of larger national states was part of a global pat-

tern that included the triumph of central authority

after a civil war in the United States, the creation

of an independent, united Dominion of Canada,

and the emergence of a modernizing government

and economy in the empire of Japan. All these

disparate events refl ected profound changes that

accompanied the development of new technologies such as the railroad, steamship, and

telegraph. The communication of ideas, exchange of goods, and movement of people

over wide areas became more frequent and easier than ever before. New technologies and

the rapid expansion of new industries strengthened the political power of nation-states,

which gained increasing infl uence in the evolving social, economic, and cultural life of all

modern societies.

63. Backgrounds: The Idea

of the Nation-State

64. Cavour and the Italian War

of 1859: The Unifi cation

of Italy

65. The Founding

of a German Empire

and the Dual Monarchy

of Austria-Hungary

66. Tsarist Russia: Social

Change and the Limits of

Political Reform

67. Nation-Building in the

Wider Atlantic World: The

United States and Canada

Chapter emblem: Detail from a painting by Anton von Werner of the Proclamation of the German Empire at

Versailles in 1871. (Bismarck Museum/Bildarchiv Preussicher Kulturbesitz/Art Resource, NY)

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Chapter 13 The Consolidation of Large Nation-States, 1859–1871536

63. BACKGROUNDS: THE IDEA OF THE NATION-STATE

Before 1860 there were two prominent, relatively coherent nation-states in Europe—Great

Britain and France. Spain, united on the map, was internally so fragmented as to belong to

a different category. Portugal, Switzerland, the Netherlands, and the Scandinavian coun-

tries were nation-states, but small or peripheral to the main national centers of European

power. The characteristic political organizations were small states comprising fragments

of a nation, such as were strewn across the middle of Europe—Hanover, Baden, Sardinia,

Tuscany, or the Two Sicilies—and large sprawling empires made up of all sorts of

peoples, distantly ruled from above by dynasties and bureaucracies, such as the Romanov,

Habsburg, and Ottoman domains. Except for recent developments in the Americas the

same mixture of small nonnational states and of large nonnational empires was to be found

in most of the rest of the world.

Since 1860 or 1870 a nation-state system has prevailed. The consolidation of large

nations became a model for other peoples large and small. In time, in the following cen-

tury, other large groups of people undertook to establish nation-states as they gained inde-

pendence from European colonial empires in Asia, Africa, and the Middle East. Small and

middle-sized populations increasingly thought of themselves as nations, entitled to their

own political sovereignty and independence. Some of these sovereignties that emerged

after 1945 comprised fewer people than a single modern city. The idea of the nation-

state has thus served both to bring people together into larger units and to

break them apart into smaller ones. In the nineteenth century, outside the

disintegrating Ottoman Empire, from which Greece, Serbia, Bulgaria, and

Romania became independent, and in which an Arab national movement

also began to stir, the national idea served mainly to create larger units in place of small

ones. The map of Europe from 1871 to 1918 was the simplest it has ever been before or

since (see map, pp. 558–559).

This book has already had much to say about the idea of the nation-state and the emer-

gence of modern nationalisms. Earlier chapters have described the ferment of national

ideas and political movements stirred up by the French Revolution and by the Napoleonic

domination of Europe, the nationalist agitation and repression of nationalism in the years

after 1815, and the general failure to achieve popular patriotic aspirations in Germany,

Italy, and central Europe in the Revolution of 1848. For many in the nineteenth century,

nationalism became a kind of modern secular faith; and it spread throughout most of

Europe, stimulating an emotion-laden desire for national unity, independence, and the cre-

ation of a national state that could embody and protect a distinctive national culture. For

most devout nationalists, the nation represented higher truths as well as

collective and personal aspirations for a better future life.

A nation-state may be thought of as one in which supreme political

authority somehow rests upon and represents the will and feeling of its

inhabitants. There must be a people, not merely a swarm of human beings.

The people must basically feel some common cultural and political identity and have the

will to create a sovereign government. They must sense that they belong—that they are

members of a community, participating somehow in a common social and cultural life, that

the government is their government, and that outsiders are “foreign.” The outsiders or for-

eigners are usually (though not always) those who speak a different language. The nation is

usually (though not always) composed of persons sharing the same speech. A nation may

Unity and disunity

Characteristics of

nation-states

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53763. Backgrounds: The Idea of the Nation-State

also possess a belief in common descent or racial origin (however mistaken), or a sense of

a common history (remembered as coherent and purposeful), a common future, a common

religion, a common geographical home, or a common external menace. Nations take form

in many ways. But the people in all nations are alike in feeling or imagining themselves to

be communities, permanent communities in which individual persons, together with their

children and their children’s children, are committed to a collective destiny on earth. Such

beliefs in a shared collective culture do not arise spontaneously in large populations. They

develop over time and are sustained by the social networks in which individuals go about

their daily lives. People learn to identify with their nations as they grow up in the families,

schools, social organizations, religious institutions, and holiday rituals that shape a sense

of selfhood in modern human societies.

In the nineteenth century governments found that they could not effectively rule or

develop the full powers of state except by enlisting this sense of member-

ship and support among their subjects. The consolidation of large nation-

states had two distinguishable phases. Territorially, it meant the union

of preexisting smaller states. Morally and psychologically it meant the

creation of new ties between government and governed, the admission of new segments

of the population to political life, through the expansion of education and through the cre-

ation or extension of liberal and representative institutions. This process of national inte-

gration and institution-building was repeated in widely disparate cultures, ranging from

western Europe and, tsarist Russia, to Japan and the frontier societies of North America.

Although there was considerable variation in the real power of the new political institu-

tions and in the extent of self-government actually realized, parliaments were set up for

the new Italy, the new Germany, the new Japan, the new Canada; and there was eventu-

ally movement in Russia in the same direction. In Europe, some of the nationalist aims

that the revolutionists of 1848 had failed to achieve were now brought about by the estab-

lished authorities.

They were brought about, however, only through a series of wars. To create an all-

German or an all-Italian state, as the revolutions of 1848 had already shown, it was nec-

essary to break the power of Austria, render Russia at least temporarily ineffective, and

overthrow or intimidate those German and Italian governments that refused to surrender

their sovereignty. For almost 40 years after 1815 there had been no war between estab-

lished powers of Europe. Then in 1854 came the Crimean War; in 1859, the Italian War; in

1864, the Danish War; in 1866, the Austro-Prussian War; and in 1870, the Franco-Prussian

War. Concurrently the Civil War in the United States maintained national unity by sup-

pressing a secessionist movement for southern independence. After 1871, for 43 years

there was again no war between the major European powers.

The Crimean War, 1854–1856

Before moving on to the fi rst of the national consolidation movements, the Italian, we

must examine the Crimean War, which, though seemingly remote, helped to make possi-

ble the success of the European national movements. Its chief political signifi cance for

Europe is that it seriously weakened both Austria and Russia, the two powers most bent

on preserving the peace settlement of 1815 and on preventing national changes. The

Crimean War also had signifi cant cultural and social infl uences, however, because it

became a new kind of modern national war in which telegraph communications kept the

civilian populations of the western belligerent powers more immediately informed about

Consolidation and

constitutionalism

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Chapter 13 The Consolidation of Large Nation-States, 1859–1871538

distant military campaigns. It was the fi rst war covered by newspaper correspondents and

the fi rst to be portrayed to noncombatants in the visual images of early photography; and

it was the fi rst war in which women, led by Florence Nightingale, established their posi-

tion as army nurses.

The pressure of Russia upon Ottoman Turkey was an old story. Every

generation saw its Russo-Turkish war. In the last Russo-Turkish war, to go

back no further than 1828–1829, Tsar Nicholas I protected the indepen-

dence newly won by Greece and annexed the left bank of the mouth of the

Danube. Now, in 1853, Nicholas again made demands upon the still large but weakened

Ottoman Empire, moving in on the two Danubian principalities, Wallachia and Moldavia

(later to be known as Romania), with military forces (see map, p. 661). The dispute this

time ostensibly involved the protection of Christians in the Ottoman Empire, including

the foreign Christians at Jerusalem and in Palestine. Over these Christians the French also

claimed a certain protective jurisdiction. The French had for centuries been the principal

Western people in the Middle East. They had often furnished money and advisers to

the Ottoman sultan, they carried on a huge volume of trade, they staffed and fi nanced

Christian missions, and they often talked of building a Suez canal. Napoleon III thus had

his own aspirations in the eastern Mediterranean, and he encouraged the Ottoman gov-

ernment to resist Russian claims to protect Christians within the Ottoman Empire. War

between Russia and Turkey broke out late in 1853. In 1854 France joined the side of the

Turks, as did Great Britain, whose settled policy was to uphold Ottoman Turkey and the

Middle East against penetration by Russia. The two Western powers were soon joined by a

small ally, the kingdom of Sardinia, better known because of its Italian mainland territory

and seat of government as Piedmont. Sardinia had no visible interest in the issues in the

Middle East, but it entered the war as a means to infl uence the Italian question.

The British fl eet successfully blockaded Russia in both its Baltic and Black Sea out-

lets. French and British armies invaded Russia itself, landing in the Crimean Peninsula, to

which all the important fi ghting was confi ned. The Austrian Empire had its own reasons to

oppose Russian expansion into Ottoman territories; and the Austrians did not want Russia

to conquer the Balkans, or to see Britain and France master the situation alone. Austria

therefore, though not yet recovered from the recent upheaval of 1848–1849, mobilized its

armed forces at a great effort to itself and occupied Wallachia and Moldavia, which

the Russians evacuated under this threat of attack by a new enemy. Tsar

Nicholas died in 1855, and his successor, Alexander II, sued for peace.

A congress of all the great powers made peace at Paris in 1856. By

the treaty the powers pledged themselves jointly to maintain the “integrity

of the Ottoman Empire.” The Russian tide ebbed a little. Russia ceded the left bank of

the mouth of the Danube to Moldavia and gave up its claim to the special protection of

Christians in the Ottoman Empire. Moldavia and Wallachia (united as Romania in 1858),

together with Serbia, were recognized as self-governing principalities under protection of

the European powers. At the Congress of Paris European diplomacy seemed to be achiev-

ing a more harmonious international system.

But trouble was in the making. Napoleon III needed glory. The Italians wanted some

kind of unifi ed Italy. The Prussians, who had done nothing in the Crimean War and were

only tardily invited to the Congress of Paris, feared that their status as a great power might

be slipping away. Napoleon III, the Italian nationalists, and the Prussians all stood to gain

by change. Change in central Europe and Italy meant a tearing up of the Treaty of Vienna

of 1815, long guarded by Metternich and unsuccessfully challenged by the revolutionaries

of 1848. Now, after the Crimean War, the forces opposing change were very weak. It was

Russian pressure

Peace in 1856

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53964. Cavour and the Italian War of 1859: The Unifi cation of Italy

the Russian and Austrian empires that had stood fi rmly for the status quo. But these two

powers, which had most seriously attempted to uphold the Vienna settlement, could do so

no longer. The fi rst proof came in Italy.

64. CAVOUR AND THE ITALIAN WAR OF 1859: THE UNIFICATION OF ITALY

Italian Nationalism: The Program of Cavour

In Italy there had long been about a dozen sizable states, together with a few very small

ones. Several of them had dissolved in the wars of the French Revolution, and all had been

reorganized, fi rst by Napoleon and then by the Congress of Vienna. The governments of

these states were generally content with their autonomy and independence. But the gov-

ernments were remote from their peoples.

There was a widespread disgust in Italy with the existing authorities,

and a growing desire for a liberal national state in which all Italy might be

embodied and through which the Italian grandeur of ancient times and of the

Renaissance might be resurrected. This sentiment, the dream of an Italian Risorgimento, or

resurgence, had become very heated at the time of the French Revolution and Napoleon,

and had then been transformed by the writings of Mazzini and other nationalists into an

Italian Risorgimento

The Crimean War weakened the international position of Austria and Russia, but its most enduring effect on nations such as Britain may have come in the ways that wars were described in the popular press and in the new role of women nurses. Florence Nightingale arrived in the Crimea with 36 nurses and was at fi rst opposed by army doctors. She is pictured here in one of the hospitals where she began to create the new military and social identity of the female nurse. (Time Life Pictures/Mansell/Time Life Pictures/Getty Images)

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Chapter 13 The Consolidation of Large Nation-States, 1859–1871540

Historical Interpretations and Debates

The Roots of Modern Nationalism

Nationalist movements gained wide infl uence during the nineteenth century by combining a popular belief in the distinctive cultural traits of different human communities with an equally popular claim that every such cultural group should have its own sovereign political state. Most historians of nationalism agree that these ideas spread widely in modern schools, newspapers, political parties, and government institutions. They frequently disagree, however, about the infl uence of modern social and economic changes on the rise of nationalism; and they propose different interpretations of the possible continuities between premodern cultures and modern national identities. Compare the views of Ernest Gellner and Anthony D. Smith as they analyze the social roots and premodern origins of modern nationalisms and national identities.

Ernest Gellner, Nations and Nationalism (2nd ed., 2006) Contrary to popular and even scholarly belief,

nationalism does not have very deep roots in

the human psyche. . . . What is crucial for its

genuine explanation is to identify its specifi c

roots. . . .

The roots of nationalism in the distinctive

structural requirements of industrial society

are very deep indeed. This movement [toward

nationalism] is the fruit neither of ideological

aberration, nor of emotional excess. . . .

Universal literacy and a high level of

numerical, technical and general sophistication

are among [industrial society’s] functional

prerequisites. Its members are and must be

mobile and ready to shift from one activity

to another. . . . The educational system which

guarantees this social achievement becomes

large and is indispensable. . . .

[This] educational infrastructure is too

large and costly for any organization other

than the biggest one of all, the state. . . .

[State] and culture must now be linked, whereas in the past their connection was . . .

often minimal. Now it is unavoidable. That is

what nationalism is about, and why we live in

an age of nationalism. . . .

But nationalism is not the awakening of an old, latent, dormant force, though that

is how it does indeed present itself. It is in

reality the consequence of a new form of

[industrial] social organization, based on

deeply internalized, education-dependent

high cultures, each protected by its own

state. . . .

Anthony D. Smith, The Nation in History: Historiographical Debates about Ethnicity and Nationalism (2000) [I] stress the importance of treating the

history of collective cultural identities and

ideologies like nations and nationalism over

long time spans. This is quite compatible

with the evidence that nationalism is a

modern ideological movement and that

many nations are both recent and novel.

But these modern nations are not created

ex nihilo; they have premodern antecedents

that require investigation in order to

establish the basis on which they were

formed. . . .

[The] central components of ethnic and

national phenomena [are] both sociocultural

and symbolic, rather than demographic

or political. Apart from various symbols,

like language, dress, emblems, rituals, and

artifacts, these elements consist in memories,

myths, values, and traditions and in the

institutionalized practices that derive from

them. . . .

[We] can begin to interpret the

historical record of collective cultural

identities and sentiments as predominantly

one in which ethnies fl ourished alongside other collectivities in the ancient and

medieval epochs of empires, city-states,

and kingdoms. . . . Thus, in several

cases we fi nd elements of nationhood

stretching back to the late medieval

period. . . . We can still agree that nations,

like nationalisms, are for the most part

relatively recent. . . .

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541

Sources: Ernest Gellner, Nations and Nationalism, 2nd ed., introduction by John Breuilly (Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 2006), pp. 34, 36–37, 46–47; Anthony D. Smith, The Nation in History: Historio- graphical Debates about Ethnicity and Nationalism (Hanover, NH: University Press of New England, 2000), pp. 63, 69.

Ernest Gellner . . . (contd. . . .) Nations as a natural, God-given way of

classifying men, as an inherent though long-

delayed political destiny are a myth.

Anthony D. Smith . . . (contd. . . .) But this does not entail the acceptance

of the modernists’ further contention that

nations are the products of modernity or

modernization. . . . We cannot derive the

identity, the location, or even the character of

the units we term nations from the processes

of modernization tout court.

intensely moral campaign for Italian national unity. Mazzini had seen his hopes for a uni-

fi ed republican Italy elevated for a brief moment and then blasted in the general debacle

of 1848. In the stormy events of 1848 the papacy vehemently rejected the radical romantic

republicanism of Mazzini, Garibaldi, and other fi rebrands; and the pope could no longer

be expected to support the cause of Italian nationalism. The same events had shown that

Austria could not be ousted from the Italian peninsula without the aid of an outside power.

These lessons were not lost on the prime minister of Piedmont, which was ruled since

1848 as a constitutional monarchy and was now under King Victor Emmanuel. This prime

minister after 1852 was Camillo di Cavour, one of the shrewdest political tacticians of that

or any age. Cavour was a liberal of Western type. He tried to make the state a model of

progress, effi ciency, and fair government that other Italians would admire. He worked hard

to establish constitutional and parliamentary practices. He favored the building of railroads

and docks, the improvement of agriculture, and emancipation of trade. He followed a

strongly anticlerical policy, cutting down the number of religious holidays, limiting the

right of church bodies to own real estate, abolishing the church courts—all without nego-

tiation with the Holy See. A liberal and constitutional monarchist, a wealthy landowner in

his own right, he had no sympathy for the revolutionary, romantic, and

republican nationalism of Mazzini.

Cavour shared in that new realism described in the last chapter. He did

not approve of romantic republicans but was willing to work with them sur-

reptitiously. He did not idealize war but was willing to make war to unify Italy under the

royal family of Savoy. With unruffl ed calculation he took Piedmont into the Crimean War,

sending troops to Russia in the hope of winning a place at the peace table and raising the

Italian question at the Congress of Paris. It was evident to him that against one great power

one must pit another and that the only way to get Austria out of Italy was to use the French

army. He therefore developed a master plan to provoke war with Austria, after having

assured himself of French military support.

It was not diffi cult to persuade Napoleon III to collaborate. The Bonapartes looked

upon Italy as their ancestral country, and Napoleon III, in his adventurous youth, had

traveled in conspiratorial Italian circles and even participated in an Italian insurrection

in 1831. Now, as emperor, in his role as apostle of modernity, he entertained a “doctrine

of nationalities” that held the consolidation of nations to be a forward step at the existing

stage of history. To fi ght reactionary Austria for the freedom of Italy would also mollify

Cavour’s “politics of

reality”

64. Cavour and the Italian War of 1859: The Unifi cation of Italy

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Chapter 13 The Consolidation of Large Nation-States, 1859–1871542

liberal opinion in France, which in other ways Napoleon was engaged in suppressing.

Napoleon III therefore reached a secret agreement with Cavour. In April 1859, Cavour

tricked Austria into a declaration of war. The French army poured over the Alps.

There were two battles, Magenta and Solferino, both won by the French and Piedmon-

tese. But Napoleon III was now in a quandary. In Italy, with the defeat of the Austrians,

revolutionary agitation broke out all over the peninsula, as it had a decade before—and the

French emperor was no patron of popular revolution. The revolutionaries overthrew or

denounced the existing governments and clamored for annexation to Piedmont. In France,

as elsewhere, the Catholics, fearful that the pope’s temporal power would be lost, upbraided

the emperor for his godless and unnecessary war. The French position was indeed odd, for

while the bulk of the French army fought Austria in the north, a French military detach-

ment was still stationed in Rome, sent there in 1849 to protect the pope against Italian

republicanism. Napoleon III, in July 1859, at the height of his victories, stupefi ed Cavour.

He made a separate peace with the Austrians.

The Franco-Austrian agreement gave Lombardy to Piedmont but left

Venetia within the Austrian Empire. It offered a compromise solution to

the Italian question, in the form of a federal union of the existing Italian

governments, to be presided over by the pope. This was not what Cavour

or the Piedmontese or the more fi ery Italian patriots wanted. Revolution

continued to spread across the northern Italian states. Tuscany, Modena, Parma, and

Romagna drove out their old rulers. They were annexed to Piedmont, after plebiscites or

general elections in these regions had shown overwhelming popular favor for this step.

Because Romagna belonged to the papal states, the pope excommunicated the organizers

of the new Italy. Undeterred, representatives of all north Italy except Venetia met at the

Piedmontese capital of Turin in 1860 in the fi rst parliament of the enlarged kingdom.

The British government hailed these events with enthusiasm, and Napoleon III also rec-

ognized the expanded Piedmontese state, in return for the transfer to France of Nice and

Savoy, where plebiscites disclosed enormous majorities for annexation to France.

The Completion of Italian Unity

There were now, in 1860, a north Italian kingdom, the papal states in the middle, and the

kingdom of the Two Sicilies, ruled by a Bourbon king in Naples and still standing in the

south. The latter was being undermined by revolutionary agitation, as often in the past. A

Piedmontese republican, Giuseppe Garibaldi, brought matters to a head. Somewhat like

Lafayette, Garibaldi was a “hero of two worlds,” who had fought for the independence of

Uruguay, lived in the United States, and been one of the Triumvirs in the short-lived

Roman Republic of 1849. He now organized a group of about 1,150 personal followers—

Garibaldi’s Thousand, or the Red Shirts—for an armed expedition that he would lead from

northern Italy to the kingdom of the Two Sicilies in the south. Garibaldi landed in Sicily

and soon crossed to the mainland. Revolutionists hastened to join him, and the government

of the Two Sicilies, backward and corrupt, commanding little loyalty from its population,

collapsed before this picturesque intrusion.

Garibaldi now prepared to push from Naples up to Rome. Here, of course, he would

meet not only the pope but also the French army, and the international scandal would rever-

berate far beyond Italy. Cavour, examining the new opportunities with his

usual pragmatism, decided that so extreme a step must be averted, but he

also saw that Garibaldi’s successes must be used to advance the national

Franco-Austrian

agreement

Garibaldi’s

compromise

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543

cause. Garibaldi, though not all his followers, was now ready to accept a monarchy as the

best solution to the problem of Italian unifi cation. The chief of the Red Shirts, the one-time

foe of kings thus consented to ride in an open carriage with Victor Emmanuel through the

streets of Naples amid cheering thousands. Plebiscites held in the Two Sicilies showed an

almost unanimous willingness to join with Piedmont. In the remainder of the papal states,

except for Rome and its environs, plebiscites were held also, with the same result. A parlia-

ment representing all Italy except Rome and Venetia met in 1861, and the Kingdom of Italy

was formally proclaimed, with Victor Emmanuel II as king “by grace of God and the will

of the nation.” Venetia was added in 1866, as a reward for Italian aid to Prussia in a war

against Austria. Rome was annexed in 1870 after the withdrawal of French troops in the

Franco-Prussian War of 1870.

So Italy was “made,” as the phrase of the time expressed it. It had been made by the

high-minded cultural nationalism of Mazzini, the audacity of Garibaldi, and the cold real-

ism of Cavour. In the end, however, the Italians also achieved national unifi cation through

insurrections, armed violence, and the endorsement of popular votes.

Persistent Problems after Unifi cation

Very little was settled or ended by unifi cation. Even territorially, the more pronounced

nationalists refused to believe that Italian unity was completed. They looked beyond

to regions of mixed population where Italians were numerous or preponderant—to the

Trentino, to Trieste, to certain Dalmatian islands, or to Nice and Savoy. They saw in these

regions an Italia irredenta, “an unredeemed Italy,” awaiting in its turn the day of incorpo- ration. Irredentism even passed into the English language as a word signifying a vociferous

demand, on nationalist grounds, for annexation of regions beyond one’s own frontiers.

UNIFICATION OF ITALY, 1859–1870

SARDINIA

SICILY

LOMBARDY VENETIA

PARMA

TUSCANY

MODENA

PIEDMONT

PAPAL STATES

ROME

NAPLES

K IN

G D

O M

O F

S A

R D

IN IA

Florence

VeniceMilanTurin

FORMATION OF DUAL MONARCHY OF AUSTRIA-HUNGARY, 1867

A U S

T R I A

H U N G A R Y

Vienna Budapest

NATION-BUILDING, 1859–1867 In the eight years after 1859 Italy was unifi ed (except for the city of Rome, annexed in 1870), and the Habsburg government tried to solve its nationalities problem by creating the Dual Monarchy of Austria-Hungary. The maps show the political components of the new Italian nation-state and the two adjoining regions that formed the Habsburg-ruled Dual Monarchy in central Europe.

64. Cavour and the Italian War of 1859: The Unifi cation of Italy

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Chapter 13 The Consolidation of Large Nation-States, 1859–1871544

This photograph of Giuseppe Garibaldi suggests the confi dent, charismatic per- sonal style that enabled him to lead a spirited group of Italian nationalists or “Red Shirts” into southern Italy, to form an alliance with King Victor Emmanuel of Piedmont, and to help establish a uni- fi ed Italian nation-state. (Hulton Archive/Getty Images)

The occupation of R ome in 1870 by the Italian government further

widened the rift between the church and the Italian national movement.

The pope, deprived of territories the papacy had held for a thousand years,

renewed his condemnations and chose to remain in lifelong seclusion in the Vatican. His

successors followed the same policy until 1929. Hence good Italian patriots were bound to

be anticlerical, and good Catholics were bound to look upon the Italian state with unfriendly

eyes. The regional differences between northern and southern Italy did not disappear with

unifi cation. Many nationalists in the north still looked upon the agrarian south—the land of

priest, landlord, and impoverished peasant—as disgracefully backward.

The new Italy was parliamentary but not democratic. At fi rst the vote was only given

to some 600,000 persons out of more than 20 million. Not until 1913 was the suffrage

signifi cantly broadened. Meanwhile parliamentary life, confi ned to a few, was somewhat

isolated from the mass of the population and frequently corrupt. But the dream of ages

was realized. Italy was one. The period of fragmentation and foreign rule that seemed so

shameful to patriots, the long centuries that had elapsed since the Renaissance, were now

terminated in the glories of a successful Risorgimento.

65. THE FOUNDING OF A GERMAN EMPIRE AND THE DUAL MONARCHY OF AUSTRIA-HUNGARY

To play upon the divisions among the Germans, keeping them in rivalry with each other

and dependent upon outside powers, had been the policy of France ever since the Reforma-

tion and of Russia since it began to take part in the affairs of Europe. To keep the Germanic

world divided was in fact a kind of negative prerequisite to the development of modern

European history as we know it, for without it the economic and cultural leadership of

Europe would hardly have become concentrated along the Atlantic seaboard; nor would

a great military empire have arisen in Russia and spread along the Baltic and into Poland.

Gradually, as we have seen, the Germans became dissatisfi ed with their position. They

became increasingly nationalistic during and after the Napoleonic wars. Many German

thinkers held that Germany was different from both western and eastern Europe, destined

someday to work out a peculiarly German way of life and political system of its own.

Occupation of Rome

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54565. The Founding of a German Empire and the Dual Monarchy of Austria-Hungary

To the Slavs the Germans felt immeasurably superior. German philosophy, as shown most

clearly in Hegel, took on a certain characteristic tone. It tended to criticize modern indi-

vidualism and to skip lightly over liberal conceptions of individual liberty; it also tended

to glorify group loyalties, the nation, and the state. It emphasized the progressive evolution

of history, which in the thought of Hegel, and after him Marx, became a vast impersonal

force that was moving in clear directions and almost independent of human beings or

human will. History was often said to ordain, require, condemn, justify, or excuse. What

one did not like could be dismissed as a mere historical phase, opening into a quite dif-

ferent and more attractive future. What one wanted, in the present or future, could be

described as historically necessary and bound to come.

The German States after 1848

In 1848 a series of revolutions had unseated the several governments of Germany. At the

Frankfurt Assembly a group composed essentially of private citizens had tried to organize

a united Germany by constitutional methods. They failed because they had no power.

Hence after 1848 the Germans began to think in terms of power, developing a somewhat

excessive admiration for die Macht. The men of Frankfurt failed also, perhaps, because they were insuffi ciently revolutionary. The Germans were still attached emotionally to

their various regional states. What happened in Italy, a revolutionary destruction of all the

old governments except that of Piedmont, could not readily happen in Germany.

After the failure of the 1848 revolution German nationalists and liberals were con-

fused. By 1850 the old states were restored—Austria and Prussia, the kingdoms of

Hanover, Saxony, Bavaria, and Württemberg, together with about 30 other states ranging

in size down to the free cities of Hamburg and Frankfurt. The loose confederation of 1815,

linking all these states together, was restored also (see map, p. 549). But within this frame-

work great economic and social changes were occurring. Between 1850

and 1870 the output of both coal and iron in Germany multiplied sixfold.

In 1850 Germany produced less iron than France; in 1870, more. Germany

was rapidly gaining economic unity and overcoming the economic and

social lag that had separated Germans from the fast-developing industrial and global com-

merce in northwestern Europe. The German cities were growing, bound together by rail-

road and telegraph, requiring larger supporting areas on which to live. Industrial capitalists

and industrial workers were becoming more numerous. With the advantages of unity more

obvious than ever, with the ideals of 1848 badly compromised, with a strong philosophical

respect for the state and for power, and with a habit of accepting the successful event as

the “judgment of history,” the Germans were ripe for what happened. They did not unify

themselves by their own exertions. They fell into the arms of Prussia.

Prussia in the 1860s: Bismarck

Prussia had always been the smallest and most precarious of the great powers. Ruined by

Napoleon, it had risen again. It owed its international infl uence and internal character to its

army. Actually it had fought fewer wars than other great powers, but its army enabled

Prussia to expand by conquest or diplomacy. The taking of Silesia in 1740 by force, the

acquisition of parts of Poland in the partitions of the 1770s and 1790s, and the addition of

the Rhineland in 1815 by diplomatic or international agreement were the highlights of

Prussian growth. After 1850 those who controlled the destinies of Prussia were

Advantages of unity

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Chapter 13 The Consolidation of Large Nation-States, 1859–1871546

apprehensive. Their state had been shaken by revolution. In the Crimean War and at the

Congress of Paris they were hardly more than spectators. It seemed as if the hard-won and

still relatively recent position of Prussia might be waning.

Since 1815 the population of Prussia had grown from 11 to 18 million, but the size of

the army had not changed. Merely to enforce existing principles of conscription would

therefore almost double the army. But this would require increased fi nancial appropria-

tions. After 1850 Prussia had a parliament. It was a parliament, to be sure, dominated by

men of wealth; but some of the wealthy Prussians, notably the industrialists

of the Rhineland, were liberals who wished the parliament to have control

over government policies. These men did not like professional armies and

considered the Prussian Junkers, from whom the offi cer corps was recruited,

as their main rivals in the state. The parliament refused the necessary mili-

tary appropriations. The king at this juncture, in 1862, appointed a new chief minister, Otto

von Bismarck.

Bismarck was a Junker from old Brandenburg east of the Elbe. He cul-

tivated the gruff manner of an honest country squire, though he was in fact

an accomplished man of the world. Intellectually he was far superior to the

rather unsophisticated landlord class from which he sprang and for which

he often felt an impatient contempt. He shared in many Junker ideas. He advocated, and

even felt, a kind of stout Protestant piety. Although he cared for the world’s opinion, it

never deterred him in his actions; criticism and denunciation left him untouched. He was

not a nationalist. He did not look upon all Germany as his Fatherland. He was a Prussian.

His social affi nities, as with the Junkers generally, lay to the East with corresponding land-

owning elements of the Baltic provinces and Russia. Western Europe, including the bulk of

Germany, he neither understood nor trusted; it seemed to him revolutionary, free-thinking,

and materialistic. Parliamentary bodies he considered ignorant and irresponsible as organs

of government. Individual liberty seemed to him disorderly selfi shness. Liberalism,

democracy, and socialism were repugnant to him. He preferred to stress duty, service,

order, and the fear of God. The idea of forming a new German union developed only

gradually in his mind and then as an adjunct to the strengthening of Prussia.

Bismarck thus had his predilections and even his principles. But no principle bound

him; no ideology seemed to him an end in itself. He became the classic practitioner of

Realpolitik. First he made wars; then he insisted upon peace. Enmities and alliances were to him only matters of passing convenience. The enemy of today might be the friend of

tomorrow. Far from planning out a long train of events, then following it step by step to a

grand consummation, he seems to have been practical and opportunistic, taking advantage

of situations as they emerged and prepared to act in any one of several directions as events

might suggest.

In 1862, as minister president, he set out to thwart the liberals in the Prussian parlia-

ment. For four years, from 1862 to 1866, Bismarck waged this constitutional struggle. The

parliament refused to vote the proposed taxes. The government collected

them anyway. The taxpayers paid them without protest—it was the orderly

thing to do, and the collectors represented public authority. The limitations

of Prussian liberalism, the docility of the population, the respect for offi cial-

dom, the belief that the king and his ministers were wiser than the elected

deputies—all clearly revealed themselves in this triumph of military policy over the theory

of government by consent. The army was enlarged, reorganized, retrained, and reequipped.

Bismarck fended off the showers of abuse from the liberal majority in the chamber.

Parliamentary

politics

Bismarck

Constitutional

struggle

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547

The liberals declared that the government’s policy was fl agrantly unconstitutional. The

constitution, said Bismarck, could not have been meant to undermine the state. The gov-

ernment, said the liberals, was itself undermining Prussia, for the rest of Germany hoped

to fi nd in Prussia, as Italy had found in Piedmont, a model of political freedom. What the

Germans admired in Prussia, replied Bismarck coldly, was not its liberalism but its power.

He declared that the Prussian boundaries as set in 1815 were unsound, that Prussia must be

prepared to seize favorable opportunities for further growth. And he added one of his most

memorable utterances: “Not by speeches and majority votes are the great questions of the

day decided—that was the great error of 1848 and 1849—but by blood and iron.”

Bismarck’s Wars: The Creation of the North German Confederation, 1867

A favorable opportunity was not long in presenting itself. The Danes, engaged in a process

of national consolidation of their own, wished to make the duchy of Schleswig an integral

part of Denmark. The population of Schleswig was part Dane and part German. The diet of

the German confederation, unwilling to see Germans thus annexed outright to Denmark,

called for an all-German war upon the Danes. Bismarck had no desire to support or

strengthen the existing German confederation. He wanted not an all-German war but a

Prussian war. To disguise his aims he acted jointly with Austria, a fellow member of the

German confederation. In 1864 Prussia and Austria together went to war with Denmark,

which they soon defeated. It was Bismarck’s intention to annex both Schleswig and the

duchy of Holstein to Prussia, gaining whatever other advantages might present themselves

from future trouble with Austria. He arranged a provisional occupation of Schleswig by

Prussia and of Holstein by Austria. Disputes soon arose over rights of passage, the keeping

of internal order, and other problems with which occupying forces are commonly affl icted.

While pretending to try to regulate these disputes he allowed them to ripen.

He now proceeded to discredit and isolate Austria. Other European powers were pre-

occupied with their own domestic issues and not much concerned with Austrian interests

in a regional territorial dispute, so Bismarck used strategic diplomatic negotiations to

ensure that no foreign state would ally itself with Austria or intervene in German affairs.

To weaken Austria within Germany, Bismarck presented himself as a dem-

ocrat. He proposed a reform of the German confederation, recommending

that it have a popular chamber elected by universal male suffrage. Bismarck as democrat

Otto von Bismarck’s pragmatic use of power and his successful campaign to create a unifi ed German nation-state made him the most successful practi- tioner of Realpolitik in late nineteenth- century Europe. This photograph suggests the talent for well-focused observation that enabled Bismarck to see clearly what was at stake in the many political and diplomatic confl icts of his generation. (Hulton Archive/Getty Images)

65. The Founding of a German Empire and the Dual Monarchy of Austria-Hungary

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Chapter 13 The Consolidation of Large Nation-States, 1859–1871548

He calculated that the mass of the German people were wedded neither to the well-to-do

capitalistic liberals, nor to the existing government structures of the German states, nor to

the house of Habsburg. He would use “democracy” to undermine all established interests

that stood in his way.

Meanwhile the occupying powers continued to quarrel over Schleswig-Holstein.

Austria fi nally raised the matter formally in the German federal diet, one of whose func-

tions was to prevent war between its members. Bismarck declared that the diet had no

authority, accused the Austrians of aggression, and ordered the Prussian army to enter Hol-

stein. The Austrians called for federal sanctions in the form of an all-German force to be

sent against Prussia. The result was that Prussia, in 1866, was at war not only with Austria

but also with most of the other German states. The Prussian army soon proved its superior-

ity. Trained to an unprecedented precision, equipped with the new needle-gun, by which

the infantryman could deliver fi ve rounds a minute, brought into the zone of combat by

an imaginative use of the new railroads, and skillfully commanded, the Prussian army

overwhelmed the Austrians and defeated the other German states soon

thereafter. The Austro-Prussian, or Seven Weeks’ War, was amazing in its

brevity. Bismarck hastened to make peace before the other European powers

could realize what had happened.

Prussia annexed outright, together with Schleswig-Holstein, the whole kingdom of

Hanover, the duchies of Nassau and Hesse-Cassel, and the free city of Frankfurt. Here the old

governments simply disappeared before the axe of the “red reactionary.” The German federal

union disappeared likewise. In its place, in 1867, Bismarck organized a North German

Confederation, in which the newly enlarged Prussia joined with 21 other states, all of which

combined it greatly outweighed. The German states south of the river Main—Austria,

Bavaria, Baden, Württemberg, and Hesse-Darmstadt—remained outside the new organiza-

tion, with no kind of union among themselves.

For the North German Confederation Bismarck produced a constitu-

tion. The new structure, though a federal one, was much stronger than

the now defunct Confederation of 1815. The king of Prussia became its

hereditary head. Ministers were responsible to him. There was a parlia-

ment with two chambers. The upper chamber, as in the United States, represented the

states as such, though not equally. The lower chamber, or Reichstag, was deemed to rep-

resent the people and was elected by universal male suffrage. Such fl irting with democ-

racy seemed madness to both conservative Junker and liberal bourgeois. It was indeed

a bold step, for only France at the time exemplifi ed universal suffrage in Europe on a

large scale, and in the France of Napoleon III neither old-fashioned conservatives nor

genuine liberals could take much satisfaction. As for Great Britain, where voting rights

were extended in this same year, 1867, they were still given to fewer than half the adult

male population. Bismarck sensed in the “masses” an ally of strong government against

private interests. He negotiated even with the socialists, who had arisen with the indus-

trialization of the past decade, and who, in Germany at this time, were mainly followers

of Ferdinand Lassalle. The Lassallean socialists, unlike the Marxian, believed it pos-

sible to improve working-class conditions through the action of existing governments.

To the great annoyance of Marx, then in England (his Capital fi rst appeared in 1867), the majority of the German socialists reached an understanding with Bismarck. In return for

a democratic suffrage they agreed to accept the North German Confederation. Bismarck,

for his part, by making use of democratic and socialist sentiment, won popular approval

for his emerging empire.

Seven Weeks’ War

A new constitution

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549

THE GERMAN QUESTION, 1815–1871 From 1815 to 1866 there were 39 German states joined in the German Confederation (the larg- est states are shown here). The movement to create a unifi ed Germany gave rise in this era to opposing nationalist groups: the Great Germans, who favored an all-German union that would include Austria; and the Little Germans, who were willing to exclude Austria and its empire from a new German nation-state. Bismarck was a Little German but a Great Prussian. He (1) enlarged Prussia by conquest in 1866; (2) joined Mecklenburg, Saxony, and other regions with Prussia in the North German Confederation of 1867; and (3) combined this Confederation with Bavaria, Württemberg, and other southern states to form the German Empire in 1871. He also (4) conquered Alsace-Lorraine from France; and (5) excluded Austria from the new German empire. These boundaries remained unchanged until 1918.

Prussia, 1815–1866

Annexed to Prussia, 1866

Joined with Prussia in North German Confederation, 1867

South German States Joined in German Empire, 1871

Alsace-Lorraine, Ceded by France to German Empire, 1871

Austrian Dominions Excluded from German Confederation, 1866, and from German Empire, 1871

Bismarck's German Empire

0 100 200 miles

German Confederation, 1815–1866

Elbe R.

Oder

R h

in e R

.

North Sea Baltic Sea

Vistula R.

Danube R.

EAST PRUSSIA

P O S E N

B O H E M I A

M O R A V I A

SAXONY

MECKLENBURG

SCHLESWIG

HOLSTEIN

HANOVER

NASSAU

HESSE- CASSEL THURINGI

B A V A R I AWÜRTT- EMBURG

A LS

A C

E B

A D

EN H

ES SE

-D

AR MS

T

A U S T R I A N E M P I R E

A U S T R I A

TYROL

P

R

U

S S

I

(to Bavaria)

Hamburg

Frankfurt

Berlin

Cracow

Vienna

Budapest

65. The Founding of a German Empire and the Dual Monarchy of Austria-Hungary

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Chapter 13 The Consolidation of Large Nation-States, 1859–1871550

The Franco-Prussian War

The creation of the North German Federation greatly expanded Prussia’s political infl u-

ence, but the situation was not yet stable. The small south German states were left fl oating

in empty space; they would sooner or later have to gravitate into some orbit or another,

whether Austrian, Prussian, or French. In France there were angry criticisms of Napoleon

III’s foreign policy. France had sent troops to Mexico during the early 1860s and (with the

collaboration of Mexican monarchists) had managed to place Napoleon’s own chosen

ruler—an Austrian archduke named Maximilian—on a precarious Mexican imperial

throne. But this French-style empire lacked broad support, and a popular republican move-

ment overthrew Maximilian’s regime in 1867, soon after Napoleon III withdrew his mili-

tary forces. Maximilian was executed, and the whole Mexican intervention became a

transatlantic imperial fi asco. Meanwhile, a united Italy had been allowed to rise on France’s

borders. And now, contrary to all principles of French national interest observed by French

governments for hundreds of years, a strong and independent power was being allowed to

spread over virtually the whole of Germany. Everywhere people began to feel that war was

inevitable between France and Prussia. Bismarck played on the fears of France among the

leaders and populations in the south German states. South Germany, though in former

times often a willing satellite of France, was now suffi ciently nationalistic to consider such

subservience to a foreign people disgraceful. To Bismarck it seemed that a war between

Prussia and France would frighten the small south German states into a union with Prussia,

leaving only Austria outside—which was what he wanted. To Napoleon III, or at least to

some of his advisers, it seemed that such a war, if successful, would restore public approval

of the Bonapartist Empire. In this infl ammable situation the responsible persons of neither

country worked for peace.

Meanwhile, in a totally unexpected chain of events, a revolution in Spain had driven

the reigning queen into exile, and a Spanish provisional government invited Prince

Leopold of Hohenzollern, the king of Prussia’s cousin, to be constitutional king of Spain.

Installing a member of the Prussian royal family as the head of government in Spain

would clearly provoke strong opposition from France. Three times the Hohenzollern fam-

ily refused the Spanish offer. Bismarck, who could not control such family decisions but

who foresaw the possibility of a usable incident, deviously persuaded the Spanish to issue

the invitation still a fourth time. On July 2, 1870, Paris heard that Prince Leopold had

accepted. The French ambassador to Prussia, Benedetti, at the direction of

his government, met the king of Prussia at the bathing resort of Ems, where

he formally demanded that Prince Leopold’s acceptance be withdrawn. It

was withdrawn, and the French seemed to have their way. Bismarck was

disappointed.

The French government now went still further. It instructed Benedetti to approach the

king again at Ems and demand that at no time in the future would any Hohenzollern ever

become a candidate for the Spanish throne. The king politely declined any such commit-

ment and telegraphed a full report of the conversation to Bismarck at Berlin. Bismarck,

receiving the telegram, which became famous as the “Ems dispatch,” saw a new opportu-

nity, as he put it, to wave a red fl ag before the Gallic bull. He condensed the Ems telegram

for publication, so reducing and abridging it that it seemed to newspaper readers as if a curt

exchange had occurred at Ems, in which the Prussians believed that their king had been

insulted and the French believed that their ambassador had been snubbed. In both coun-

tries the war party demanded satisfaction. On July 19, 1870, on these trivial grounds, and

France thwarts new

Spanish king

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551

with the ostensible issue of the Spanish throne already settled, the irrespon-

sible and decaying government of Napoleon III declared war on Prussia.

Again the war was short. Again Bismarck had taken care to isolate his

enemy in advance. The British generally felt France to be in the wrong. They had been

alarmed by the French operations in Mexico, which suggested an ambition to re-create a

French American empire. The Italians had long been awaiting the chance to seize Rome;

they did so in 1870, when the French withdrew their troops from Rome for use against

Prussia. The Russians had been awaiting the chance to upset a clause of the Peace of 1856

that forbade them to keep naval vessels in the Black Sea. They did so in 1870.

The War of 1870, like the others of the time, failed to become a general European

struggle. Prussia was supported by the south German states. France had no allies. The

French army proved to be technically backward compared with the Prussian. War began

on July 19; on September 2, after the battle of Sedan, the principal French army surren-

dered to the Germans. Napoleon III was himself taken prisoner. On September 4 an insur-

rection in Paris proclaimed the Third Republic. The Prussian and German forces moved

into France and laid siege to the capital. Though the French armies dissolved, Paris refused

to capitulate. For four months it was surrounded and besieged.

A short war

The French suffered a crushing defeat at Sedan in northeastern France during the brief Franco-Prussian War in 1870. Napoleon III was captured along with much of his army. French civilians fl ed from both the battle and advancing Prussian troops, as can be seen in this German engraving of terrifi ed people crossing a dangerous, crowded bridge. (De Agostini Picture Library/Getty Images)

65. The Founding of a German Empire and the Dual Monarchy of Austria-Hungary

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Chapter 13 The Consolidation of Large Nation-States, 1859–1871552

The German Empire, 1871

With their guns encircling Paris, the German rulers or their representatives assembled at

Versailles. The château and gardens of Versailles, since Louis XVI’s unceremonious depar-

ture in October 1789, had been little more than a vacant monument to a society long since

dead. Here, in the most sumptuous room of the palace, the resplendent Hall of Mirrors,

where the Sun King had once received the deferential approaches of German princes,

Bismarck on January 18, 1871, arranged for the German Empire to be proclaimed. The king

of Prussia received the hereditary title of German emperor. The other German rulers (except-

ing, to be sure, the ruler of Austria, and those whom Bismarck had himself dethroned)

accepted his imperial authority. Ten days later the people of Paris, shivering, hungry, and

helpless, opened their gates to the enemy. France had no government with which Bismarck

could make peace. It was not at all clear what kind of government the country wanted.

Bismarck insisted on the election of a Constituent Assembly by univer-

sal suffrage. He demanded that France pay the German Empire a war indem-

nity of 5 billion gold francs (then an enormous and unprecedented sum) and

cede to it the border region of Alsace and most of Lorraine. Though most

Alsatians spoke German, most of them also felt themselves to be French, having shared in

the general history of France since the seventeenth century. There was strong local protest

at the transfer to Germany; thousands of Alsatians moved to other places within the new

French Republic or to Algeria, and the French never reconciled themselves to this cold-

blooded amputation of their frontier. The peace dictated by Bismarck was embodied in the

treaty of Frankfurt of May 10, 1871. Thereafter, as will be seen, the French Constituent

Assembly gradually proceeded to construct the Third Republic.

The consolidation of Germany transformed the face of Europe. It reversed the dictum

not only of the Peace of Vienna but even of the Peace of Westphalia. The German Empire,

no sooner born, was the strongest state on the continent of Europe. Rapidly

industrialized after 1870, it became more potent still. Bismarck had astutely

exploited the confl icting ambitions of other European states and used three

short wars to bring about a German unifi cation that most European govern-

ments had long sought at all costs to prevent. He outwitted everybody in

turn, including the Germans. The united all-German state that issued from the nationalist

movement was a Germany conquered by Prussia. Within the new empire Prussia directly

controlled about two-thirds of the whole imperial territory. Before such unanswerable

success the Prussian liberals capitulated, and the Prussian parliament passed an indemnity

act; the gist of it was that Bismarck admitted to a certain high-handedness during the con-

stitutional struggle but that the parliament legalized the disputed tax collections ex post

facto, agreeing to forgive and forget, in view of the victory over Austria and its conse-

quences. Thus liberalism gave way to a triumphant nationalism.

The German Empire received substantially the constitution of the North German

Confederation. It was a federation of monarchies, each based in theory on divine or heredi-

tary right. At the same time, in the Reichstag elected by universal male suffrage, the empire

rested on a kind of mass appeal and was in a sense democratic. Yet the country’s ministers

were responsible to the emperor and not to the elected chamber. Moreover, it was the rulers

who joined their territories to the empire, not the peoples. There were no popular plebi-

scites as in Italy. Each state kept its own laws, government, and constitution. The people

of Prussia, for example, remained for Prussian affairs under the rather illiberal constitution

of 1850 with its three-class system of voting; in affairs of the Reich, or empire, however,

they enjoyed an equal vote by universal suffrage. The emperor, who was also the king of

Bismarck’s demands

The strength of the

German state

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553

Prussia, had legal control over the foreign and military policy of the empire. The German

Empire in effect served as a mechanism to magnify the role of Prussia, the Prussian army,

and the East Elbian Prussian aristocracy in world affairs.

The Habsburg Empire after 1848

Bismarck united Germany, but he also divided it, for he left about a sixth of the Germans

outside his German Empire. These Germans of Austria and Bohemia had now to work out

a common future with the dozen other nationalities in the Danubian domain. The clumsi-

ness of the old Habsburg multinational empire is clear enough, but more impressive is

its astonishing capacity to survive the recurring upheavals in central European societies.

Having survived repeated attempts to dismember it during the eighteenth century, the

Napoleonic wars, and the revolutions of 1848, the empire held together

until the cataclysm of the First World War. But the events of the 1850s and

1860s greatly altered its character. Habsburg resilience

The new German Empire was offi cially proclaimed in January 1871 at the historic French palace in Versailles. King Wilhelm of Prussia became the German Emperor. This painting by Anton von Werner shows how Bismarck assembled military offi cers and representatives from all of the constituent German states in the famous “Hall of Mirrors”—a symbolic site of past French grandeur that made the German celebration all the more humiliating for the French. (Bismarck Museum/Bildarchiv Preussicher Kulturbesitz/Art Resource, NY)

65. The Founding of a German Empire and the Dual Monarchy of Austria-Hungary

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Chapter 13 The Consolidation of Large Nation-States, 1859–1871554

The essential question, in a nationalist age, was how the Habsburg government would

react to the challenges that emerged from the expanding campaigns for national self-

expression. By Habsburg, in this period, one means primarily Francis Joseph, who as

emperor from 1848 to 1916 reigned even longer than his famous contemporary, Queen

Victoria. Francis Joseph, like many others, could never shake off his own tradition. His

thoughts turned on his royal house and on its rights. Buffeted unmercifully by the waves of

change and by central European nationalisms, he cordially disliked everything liberal, pro-

gressive, or modern. Personally, Francis Joseph was incapable of enlarged views, ambi-

tious projects, bold decisions, or persevering action. And he lived in a pompous dream

world, surrounded in the imperial court by great noblemen, high churchmen, and bespan-

gled personages of the army.

Yet the government was not idle; it was, if anything, too fertile in devising new deals

and new dispensations. Various expedients were tried after 1849, but none was tried

long enough to see if it would work. For several years the ruling idea was

centralization—to govern the empire through the German language and

with German effi ciency, maintaining the abolition of serfdom as accom-

plished in 1848 (and which required a strong offi cial control over the land-

lords if it was to work in practice) and favoring the building of railroads

and other forms of material progress. This Germanic and bureaucratic centralization was

distasteful to the non-German nationalities, and especially to the Magyars. It is important

to say Magyars, not Hungarians, because the Magyars composed less than half of the very

mixed population within the then existing borders of Hungary. Nevertheless the Magyars,

as the strongest of the non-German groups, and hence the most able to maintain a political

system of their own, felt the Germanic infl uence as most oppressive.

The Compromise of 1867

In 1867 a compromise was worked out between the Germans of Austria-Bohemia and

the Magyars of Hungary. It worked to the common disadvantage of the Slavs, who were

viewed as a backward, less civilized people by both the Germans and the

Magyars. The compromise created a Dual Monarchy, of a kind unparal-

leled in Europe. West of the river Leith was the Empire of Austria; east of

it was the Kingdom of Hungary. The two were now judged exactly equal.

Each had its own constitution and its own parliament, to which the governing ministry in

each country was henceforth to be responsible. The administrative language of Austria

would be German; of Hungary, Magyar. Neither state could intervene in the other’s affairs.

The two countries were joined by the fact that the same Habsburg ruler should always be

emperor in Austria and king in Hungary. Yet the union was not personal only; for, though

there was no common parliament, delegates of the two parliaments were to meet together

alternately in Vienna and Budapest, and there was to be a common ministry for fi nance,

foreign affairs, and war. To this common ministry of Austria-Hungary both Austrians and

Hungarians were to be appointed.

Both Austria and Hungary under the Dual Monarchy were in form constitutional par-

liamentary states, but neither was democratic. In Austria, after much juggling with voting

systems, a true universal male suffrage was instituted in 1907. In Hungary, when the First

World War came in 1914, still only a quarter of the adult male population had the vote.

Socially, the great reform of 1848, the abolition of serfdom, was not allowed to move

toward more upsetting political or economic conclusions. The owners of great landed

estates, especially in Hungary (but also in parts of the Austrian Empire) remained the

Germanic

centralization

A dual monarchy

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55566. Tsarist Russia: Social Change and the Limits of Political Reform

unquestionably dominant class. T hey were surrounded by landless peasants, an agrarian

proletariat, composed partly of lower classes of their own nationality and

partly of entire peasant peoples, like the Slovaks and Serbs, who had no

educated or wealthy class of their own. National and social questions

therefore came together. For some nationalities, especially the Magyars,

not only a national but also a social and economic ascendancy was at stake. Landlordism

became the basic social issue. A landowning class, increasingly educated in the knowl-

edge and organizational methods of modern European cultures, faced a depressed peasant

mass that was generally left out of the advancing civilization of the day.

66. TSARIST RUSSIA: SOCIAL CHANGE AND THE LIMITS OF POLITICAL REFORM

Tsarist Russia after 1856

For Russia also the Crimean War set off a series of changes. The ungainly empire, an “enor-

mous village” as it has been called, stretching from Poland to the Pacifi c, had proved unable

to repel a localized attack by France and Great Britain, into which neither of the Western

National and social

questions

Hungary and Austria formed a political union under a Dual Monarchy and common govern- ment ministries after 1867, but most of the population continued to live a traditional agrarian life. This painting by the Hungarian artist Miklos Barabas, The Arrival of the Bride (1856), portrays one of the enduring rituals of rural societies, which were often romanticized in nineteenth-century nationalism. (Hungarian National Gallery, Budapest, Hungary/The Bridgeman Art Library)

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Chapter 13 The Consolidation of Large Nation-States, 1859–1871556

powers had put anything like its full resources. Alexander II (1855–1881), who became tsar

during the war, was no liberal by nature or conviction. But he saw that something drastic must

be done. The prestige of western Europe was at its height, because the most successful gov-

ernments and advanced industrial economies had developed in the western European nation-

states. The reforms in Russia therefore followed, at some distance, the European model.

Imperial Russia was a political organization very diffi cult to describe. Its own subjects

did not know what to make of it. Some, called Westernizers in the mid-nineteenth century,

believed Russia was destined to become more like western Europe. Others, the Slavophiles,

believed Russia was entrusted with a special destiny of its own, which imitation of Europe

would only weaken or pervert.

That Russia differed from other regions of Europe, at least in degree,

was doubted by nobody. The leading institution was the autocracy of the

tsar. This was not exactly the absolutism known in earlier European monar-

chies. In Russia certain very old European conceptions were missing, such as the idea that

spiritual authority is independent of even the mightiest prince or the old feudal idea of

reciprocal duties between king and subject. The notion that people have certain rights or

claims for justice at the hands of power, which no one in the early modern European states

had ever expressly repudiated, was in Russia a somewhat doctrinaire importation from

western Europe. The tsardom did not rule by law; it ran the country by ukase, police action,

and the army. The tsars, since Peter and before, had built up their state very largely by

importing European technical methods and technical experts, often against strong objection

by native Russians of all classes, upon whom the new methods were, when necessary, sim-

ply forced. More than any state in Europe, the Russian Empire was a machine superim-

posed upon its people without organic connection—bureaucracy pure and simple. But as

more Russians entered into contact with the other cultures of Europe many people acquired

European ideas in which the autocracy was not interested—ideas of liberty and fraternity,

of a just and classless society, of individual personality enriched by humane culture and

moral freedom. Russians who began to espouse such ideas found themselves chronically

critical of the government and of Russia itself. The government, massive though it seemed,

was afraid of such people. Any idea arising outside offi cial circles seemed pernicious, and

the press and the universities were as a rule severely censored.

A second fundamental institution, which had grown up with the tsar-

dom, was legalized bondage or serfdom. The majority of the population

living on Russia’s vast landed estates, in the households of wealthy land-

lords, or in rural villages were serfs dependent upon masters. Russian serf-

dom was more onerous than the serfdom that existed in east-central Europe until 1848. It

resembled the slavery of the Americas in that serfs were “owned”; they could be bought and

sold and used in occupations other than agriculture. Some serfs worked the soil, render-

ing unpaid labor service to the gentry. Others could be used by their owners in factories or

mines or rented out for such purposes. Others were more independent, working as artisans

or mechanics, and even traveling about or residing in the cities, but from their earnings they

had to remit certain fees to the lord or return home when he called them. The owners had a

certain paternalistic responsibility for their serfs, and in the villages the gentry constituted a

kind of personal local government. The law, as in the American South, did little or nothing

to interfere between gentry and servile mass, so that the serfs’ day-to-day fortunes depended

on the personality or economic circumstances of their owners.

By the mid-nineteenth century most Russians agreed that serfdom must some day end.

Serfdom was in any case ceasing to be profi table; some two-thirds of all the privately

owned serfs (that is, those not belonging to the tsar or state) were mortgaged as security for

Autocracy of the tsar

The severity of

Russian serfdom

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557

loans at the time of Alexander II’s accession. Increasingly serfdom was recognized as a bad

system of labor relations, making the serfs illiterate and stolid drudges, without incentive,

initiative, self-respect, or pride of workmanship, and also very poor soldiers for the army.

Educated Russians, full of Western ideas, were estranged from the gov-

ernment, from the Orthodox Church, which was an arm of the tsar, and from

the common people of their own country. They felt ill at ease in a nation of

uneducated peasants and a pang of guilt at the virtual slavery on which their

own position rested. Hence arose another distinctive feature of nineteenth-

century Russian life, the intelligentsia. In Russia it seemed that the experience of being

educated, debating ideas, and reading books made the intelligentsia more self-conscious

of themselves as a class apart. They were made up of students, university graduates, and

persons who had a good deal of leisure to read. Such people, while not very free to think,

were more free to think than to do almost anything else. The Russian intelligentsia tended

to embrace sweeping reformist philosophies, and they believed that intellectuals should

play a large role in society. They formed an exaggerated idea of how thinkers could direct

the course of historical change. Their characteristic attitude was one of opposition. Some,

overwhelmed by the mammoth immobility of the tsardom and of serfdom, turned to revo-

lutionary and even terroristic philosophies. This only made the bureaucrats more anxious

and fearful, and the government more fi tfully repressive.

The Emancipation Act of 1861 and Other Reforms

Alexander II, on becoming tsar in 1855, attempted to enlist the support of the liberals

among the intelligentsia by implementing a whole series of signifi cant reforms. He gave

permission to travel outside Russia, eased the controls on the universities, and allowed

the censorship to go relatively unenforced. Newspapers and journals were founded, and

those written by Russian revolutionaries abroad, like the Polar Star of Alexander Herzen in London, penetrated more freely into the country. The result was a great outburst of

public opinion, which was agreed at least on one point, the necessity of emancipating the

peasants. This was in principle hardly a party question. Alexander’s father, Nicholas I,

had been a noted reactionary, who abhorred European liberalism and organized a system

of secret political police until then unparalleled in Europe for its arbitrary and inquisitorial

methods. Yet Nicholas I had taken serious measures to alleviate serfdom. Alexander II,

basically conservative on Russian affairs, proceeded to set up a special branch of the gov-

ernment to study the question. The government did not wish to throw the whole labor

system and economy of the country into chaos, nor to ruin the gentry class without which

it could not govern at all. After many discussions, proposals, and memoranda, an imperial

ukase of 1861 declared serfdom abolished and the peasants free.

By this great decree the peasants became legally free from the control of their former

masters. They were henceforth subjects of the government, not subjects of their previous

owners. It was hoped that they would be stirred by a new sense of human dignity. As one

enthusiastic offi cial put it shortly after emancipation: “The people are erect and trans-

formed; the look, the walk, the speech, everything is changed.” The gentry lost their old

quasi-manorial jurisdiction over the villages. They could no longer exact forced and unpaid

labor or receive fees arising from servitude.

It is important to realize what the Act of Emancipation did and did

not do. Roughly (with great differences from region to region) it allocated

about half the cultivated land to the gentry and half to the former serfs. The

latter had to pay redemption money for the land they received and for the

Western ideas and

education

Land allocation

66. Tsarist Russia: Social Change and the Limits of Political Reform

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Chapter 13 The Consolidation of Large Nation-States, 1859–1871558

N o r t h S e a

ATLANTIC OCEAN

B a l t

i c

S e a

Elbe R.

Oder R.

Tagus R.

Ebro R .

R h

o n

e R

.

Loire R.

Seine R.

English Channe l

Po R.

A driatic

Sea

M e d i t e r r a n e a n S e a

Vistula R. Rhine

R .

GREAT BRITAIN

NORWAY AND

SWEDEN

BELGIUM LUX.

NETHERLANDS

FRANCE

MOROCCO

A U S T R I A -

H U N G A R Y

ITALY

SWITZERLAND

GREE (indepen

DENMARK

SPAIN

PORTUGAL

IRELAND

SCOTLAND

ENGLAND

POLAND

F I N L A

N

AU ST

RIA

HUNGARYCROATIA- SLOVENIA

MONTENEGRO (independent)

BOSNIA

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A LBA

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ALGERIA (France)

TUNISIA

GERMAN EMPIRE

M AC

EDO N

R

SICILY

Sardinia

Corsica (France)

BALEARIC IS. (France)

Shetland I. (Britain)

MALTA (Britain)

N O

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W A

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S W

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(Britain)

Budapest

Dresden

Lisbon Madrid

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Brussels

Riga

Bordeaux

Marseille

Copenhagen

Prague

Warsaw

Stockholm

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Venice

Munich

Berlin

Vienna

Paris

London

Rome

Naples

Fez

Gibraltar (Britain)

Seville

Bilbao

Barcelona

Lyon

Tours

Reims

Liverpool

Belfast

Dublin

Amsterdam

Hamburg

Metz

Strassburg

Milan

Turin

Danzig

Helsing

V

Bremen

Cologne

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559

EUROPE, 1871 This map shows the exis- tence of the newly unifi ed German Empire and a unifi ed Kingdom of Italy. The German domain was enlarged by the incor- poration of Schleswig (in the neck of the Dan- ish Peninsula) and the annexation from France of Alsace and parts of Lorraine (the regions around Strassburg and Metz on the map). From 1871 to 1914, Europe had fewer separate states than at any other time in its history. There were no further changes in national borders during this period except for the voluntary separation of Norway and Swe- den in 1905 and various realignments in south- eastern Europe as the Ottoman Empire with- drew from the Balkans.

0 200 300 miles100

B l a c k S e a

L. Lagoda

Pruth R.

Danub e R.

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Dniester

R .

Volga R.

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i a n

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a

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Tig ris

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D o

n R.

Sea of Azov

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O T T O M A N E M P I R E

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ARABIA

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M I A

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C A U C A S I A

Constantinople

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St. Petersburg

Kiev

gfors

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Rostov

Baghdad

Tabriz

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Moscow

Smyrna

Stevastopol

Orenburg

66. Tsarist Russia: Social Change and the Limits of Political Reform

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Chapter 13 The Consolidation of Large Nation-States, 1859–1871560

fees that the gentry lost. The government actually paid the redemption money directly to

the gentry at the time of emancipation, but the emancipated serfs were required to repay

these funds to the government over many years and decades. The Russian aristocracy

was thus far from weakened; in place of a kind of human property largely mortgaged

anyway, they now had clear possession of roughly half the land, they received the redemp-

tion money, and they were rid of obligations to the peasants.

The peasants, on the other hand, now owned about half the arable land in their own

right—a considerable amount by the standards of almost any European country. They did

not, however, possess it according to the principles of private property or independent

farming that had become prevalent in Europe. The peasant land, when redeemed, became

the collective property of the ancient peasant village assembly, or mir. The village, as a unit, was responsible to the government for repayment of the redemption money and for

collection of the necessary sums from its individual members. The village assembly, in

default of collection, might require forced labor from the defaulter or a member of his fam-

ily; and it could prevent peasants from moving away from the village, lest those remaining

bear the whole burden of payment. It could (as in the past) assign and reassign certain

lands to its members for tillage and otherwise supervise cultivation as a joint concern. To

keep the village community intact, the government presently forbade the selling or mort-

gaging of land to persons outside the village. This tended to preserve the peasant society

but also to discourage the investment of outside capital, with which equipment might be

purchased, and so to retard agricultural improvement and the growth of wealth.

Not all peasants within the village unit were equal. As in France before

the Revolution, some had the right to work more land than others. Some were

only day laborers. Others had rights of inheritance in the soil (for not all land

was subject to reassignment by the commune) or rented additional parcels of

land belonging to the gentry. These lands they worked by hiring other peas-

ants for wages. None of the Russian peasants, however, after the emancipation, possessed

full individual freedom of action. In their movements and obligations, as in their thoughts,

they were restricted by their villages as they had once been restricted by their lords.

Alexander II proceeded to overhaul the legal system with reforms that brought the

Russian system closer to the judicial practices in western European countries. With the

disappearance of the lord’s jurisdiction over his peasants a new system of local courts was

needed in any case, but the opportunity was taken to reform the courts from bottom to top.

The arbitrariness of authority and defenselessness of the subject were the inveterate evils.

They were greatly mitigated by the edict of 1864. Trials were made public, and private

persons received the right to be represented in court by lawyers of their own choosing.

All class distinctions in judicial matters were abolished, although in practice peasants con-

tinued to be subject to harsh disadvantages. A clear sequence of lower and higher courts

was established. Requirements were laid down for the professional training of judges, who

henceforth received stated salaries and were protected from administrative pressure. A

system of juries on the English model was introduced.

While thus attempting to establish a rule of law, the tsar also moved

in the direction of allowing self-government. He hoped to win over the lib-

erals and to shoulder the upper and middle classes with some degree of

public responsibility. He created, again by an edict of 1864, a system of

provincial and district councils called zemstvos. Elected by various elements, including

the peasants, the zemstvos gradually went into operation and took up matters of education,

medical relief, public welfare, food supply, and road maintenance in their localities. Their

Inequality among

peasants

A system of

self-government

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561

The emancipation of the peasants in Russia transformed the legal status of the former serfs and opened opportunities for the development of more prosperous peasant communities. There was still much poverty in the Russian countryside after 1861, but the people who are drinking and playing music outside this rural Russian house seem to be part of a more prosperous post- emancipation peasant class. (Fotosearch/Getty Images)

66. Tsarist Russia: Social Change and the Limits of Political Reform

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Chapter 13 The Consolidation of Large Nation-States, 1859–1871562

great value was in developing civic sentiment among those who took part in them. Many

liberals urged a representative body for all Russia, a Zemsky Sobor or Duma, which, how-

ever, Alexander II refused to concede. After 1864 his policy became more cautious, and

he resisted the kinds of political institutions that contributed to the development of more

liberal nation-states in other societies. A rebellion in Poland in 1863 inclined him to take

advice from those who favored repression. He began to mollify the vested interests that

had been disgruntled by the reforms and to whittle down some of the concessions already

granted. But the essence of the reforms remained unaffected.

Revolutionism in Russia

The autocrat who thus undertook to liberalize Russia barely escaped assassination in 1866,

had fi ve shots fi red at him in 1873, missed death by half an hour in 1880 when his imperial

dining room was dynamited, and in 1881 was to be killed by a bomb. The revolutionaries

were not pleased with the reforms, which if successful would merely strengthen the exist-

ing order. Some of the dissatisfi ed intelligentsia in the 1860s began to call themselves

“nihilists”: they believed in “nothing”—except science—and took a cynical view of the

reforming tsar and his zemstvos. The peasants, saddled with heavy redemption payments,

remained basically unsatisfi ed, and intellectuals toured the villages fanning this discontent.

Revolutionaries developed a mystic conception of the revolutionary role of the Russian

masses. Socialists, after the failure of socialism in Europe in the Revolution of 1848, came

in many cases to believe, as Alexander Herzen wrote, that the true future of socialism lay

in Russia, because of the very weakness of capitalism in Russia and the existence of a kind

of collectivism already established in the village assemblies or communes.

More radical than Herzen were the anarchist Bakunin and his disciple

Nechaiev. In their People’s Justice these two called for terrorism not only against tsarist offi cials but against liberals also. As they wrote in the Cate- chism of a Revolutionist, the true revolutionary “is devoured by one purpose, one thought, one passion—the revolution.  .  .  . He has severed every link

with the social order and with the entire civilized world. . . . Everything which promotes

the success of the revolution is moral, everything which hinders it is immoral.” Terrorism

(which in that time generally meant assassination) was rejected by many of the revolution-

aries, especially by those who in the 1870s took up the scientifi c socialism of Karl Marx.

To Marx it did not seem that violence against some specifi c government offi cials would

advance an inevitable historical or social process. But other groups, recognizing the inspira-

tion of men like Bakunin and Nechaiev, organized secret terrorist societies. One of these,

the People’s Will, determined to assassinate the tsar. In an autocratic state, they held, there

was no other road to justice and freedom.

Alexander II, alarmed by this underground menace, which of course did not escape

the attention of the police, again turned for support to the liberals. The liberals, who were

themselves threatened by the revolutionaries, had become estranged from the government

by its failure to follow through with the reforms of the early 1860s. Now, in 1880, to rally

support, the tsar again relaxed the autocratic system. He abolished the dreaded secret police

set up by his father, allowed the press to discuss most political subjects freely, and encour-

aged the zemstvos to do the same. Further to associate representatives of the public with the

government, he proposed, not exactly a parliament, but two nationally elected commissions

to sit with the council of state. He signed the edict to this effect on March 13, 1881, and on

the same day was assassinated, not by a demented individual acting wildly and alone, but

by the joint efforts of the highly trained members of the terrorist society, the People’s Will.

Bakunin and

anarchism

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56367. Nation-Building in the Wider Atlantic World: The United States and Canada

Alexander III, upon his father’s death, abandoned the project for elected commissions

and during his whole reign, from 1881 to 1894, reverted to a program of brutal resistance to

liberals and revolutionaries alike. Although the new regime established by peasant emanci-

pation, judicial reform, and the zemstvos was allowed to continue, the broader process of

creating new political institutions for a more modern state did not move forward in late

nineteenth-century Russian society. How Russia fi nally received a parliament in 1905 is

explained below in the chapter on the Russian Revolution. At present it is enough to have

seen how even tsarist Russia, under Alexander II, shared in a liberal movement that was

then at its height. The abolition of serfdom, putting both aristocrat and peasant more fully

into a money economy, opened the way for capitalistic development within the empire.

Between the two confi ning walls of autocracy and revolutionism—equally hard and unyield-

ing—European ideas of law, liberty, and humanity began to spread in a ten-

tative way; and the Russian government, with its own halting methods,

began to move toward the political and legal consolidation that was develop-

ing more rapidly in the national states of western Europe.

67. NATION-BUILDING IN THE WIDER ATLANTIC WORLD: THE UNITED STATES AND CANADA

The history of Europe, long interconnected with the history of other societies around the

world, remained connected to the history of the new American nations that had gained their

independence from European empires in the late eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries.

European cultures were still infl uential in all parts of the Americas, and Europeans were

much involved in the North American societies that emerged from earlier English, French,

and Spanish colonies. The United States steadily expanded its economic and political

power during the nineteenth century, Canada moved gradually toward independence from

Great Britain, and Mexico struggled to protect its sovereignty and lands against invasions

from both the United States and European forces coming from France. This book mostly

examines the societies, cultures, and states of Europe, but the signifi cance of European

nation-building becomes more apparent within the context of other developments in the

transatlantic world. The European processes and models of national consolidation also infl u-

enced North America—where many Europeans immigrated during the nineteenth century

and where the growing populations were also constructing more unifi ed national states.

Between autocracy

and revolutionism

CHRONOLOGY OF NOTABLE EVENTS, 1854–1871

1854–1856 France and Britain join with Ottoman Turkey to defeat Russia in the Crimean War

1861 Italians establish the unifi ed Kingdom of Italy

1861 Tsar Alexander II abolishes serfdom in Russia

1861–1865 Civil War in the United States; federal union is upheld and slavery is abolished

1867 Austria and Hungary join together in a “Dual Monarchy” under the Habsburg

ruler Francis Joseph

1867 Creation of the independent Dominion of Canada

1870 Prussia defeats France in brief war; Napoleon III abdicates and Parisians pro-

claim a Third French Republic

1871 King Wilhelm of Prussia becomes emperor in newly established German Empire

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Chapter 13 The Consolidation of Large Nation-States, 1859–1871564

Immigration, Civil War, and National Consolidation in the United States

The immigrants to the United States in this era (except for an uncounted, illegal importa-

tion of enslaved Africans) came almost entirely from Europe, and before 1860 most of the

immigration fl owed from Great Britain, Ireland, and Germany. Few concessions were made

to the non-English immigrant populations. English was the language of the public schools,

the police, law courts, local government, and public documents, all of which

contributed to the nationalism and new national identity that spread across

American society. The immigrants did not constitute minorities in the Immigration

The victories of Union armies during the American Civil War preserved the unity of the United States and also gave the national government the power to abolish slavery. This illustration from a French journal in 1863 provides a European image of newly freed people celebrating President Lincoln’s Emancipation Proclamation and leaving the places where they had been enslaved. Lincoln’s proclamation is posted on the side of the coach. The abolition of slavery became another example of how the consolidation of large nation-states took place on both sides of the Atlantic. (RMN-Grand Palais/Art Resource, NY)

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565

European sense. They generally learned to speak English, and they were more than willing

to accept the eighteenth-century political traditions of republicanism, self-government, and

individual liberty. Immigrants also embraced the popular belief in the social component of

America’s national creed, which confi dently asserted that the future would be better in

America than either the present or the past in Europe. Such ideas contributed to a collective

affi rmation of national destiny and unity among the nation’s diverse social classes and

immigrant communities.

But at the same time the United States was falling to pieces, in large part because the

Industrial Revolution in the Atlantic world had different effects on the U.S. North and

South. The South became closely connected to the British economy, producing raw cotton

for British textile mills and depending on an enslaved labor force to generate the exports

that were the region’s main economic product. In the North, the Industrial Revolution led

to the building of factories, for which the manufacturers needed both tariff

protection and new workers, many of whom were recent immigrants from

Europe. Confl icts over free trade and tariffs thus became entangled with the

issue of slavery; and the confl ict over slavery became part of a larger debate

about individual rights and liberty on both sides of the Atlantic. Over the course of the

nineteenth century, slavery had come under increasing moral condemnation in both

Europe and the Americas. It was abolished in the British colonies in 1833, in the French

colonies in 1848, and in the Spanish American republics at different dates in the fi rst half

of the century. Similarly, legal serfdom was abolished in the Habsburg possessions in

1848 and in Russia in 1861. The slave system in the American South was increasingly out

of step with the nineteenth-century liberal movement toward individual legal and

political rights.

The westward expansion of the United States thus extended a confl ict that France and

Great Britain had once waged for control of lands beyond the Allegheny Mountains. Now

the Northern and Southern states in the American republic competed to make the western

territories either free or slave. In 1846 the United States made war upon

Mexico by methods that anticipated the aggressive tactics Bismarck would

soon use to expand the territories of Prussia. Many Northerners denounced

the war as an act of Southern aggression, but the new conquests became

permanent possessions of the United States. This territory, which extended from Texas to

the Pacifi c coast, was more than half of the land in the entire Mexican Republic, and its

conquest by the United States showed how European methods of national state expansion

and consolidation were also used in North America.

The Mexican-American War further intensifi ed the sectional confl ict in the United

States, especially after the fi rst new state created in this vast new region of the country,

California, joined the Union as a free state. The American opponents of slavery, the Aboli-

tionists, were part of a transatlantic humanitarian movement; and their political goals

somewhat resembled the aspirations of the radical democrats who came forward in Europe

in 1848. Meanwhile, a growing sectionalism in the American South came to

resemble the new nationalism felt by many peoples in Europe who were

seeking to separate from larger empires or older monarchical states. Like

the Magyar landowners of the Austrian empire, Southern white elites began

to believe that their way of life could be best maintained by separation from a Union in

which they were likely to become a permanent political minority. When the new, Northern-

based Republican party was able to elect Abraham Lincoln as the American president in

1860, the advocates for Southern independence moved quickly to secede from the United

States and to form the Confederate States of America. This secession set off a prolonged

Northern and

Southern economies

Mexican-American

War

Secession of the

American South

67. Nation-Building in the Wider Atlantic World: The United States and Canada

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Chapter 13 The Consolidation of Large Nation-States, 1859–1871566

civil war, which attracted wide international attention, in part because some of the battles

were as large as the major battles in Europe during the Napoleonic wars.

European governments, while never recognizing the Confederacy, were mostly par-

tial to the South. The United States stood for principles still considered revolutionary in

Europe, so that while the European working classes generally favored the North, the upper

classes were willing enough to see the North American republic collapse into fragments.

In this respect, Great Britain and France viewed the breakup of the United States as a

strategic opportunity that they had formerly seen in the breakup of the Spanish Empire: an

independent Confederate nation might provide convenient access to agricultural com-

modities that were needed in European factories, and it might open a new

tariff-free market in which Europeans could sell their manufactured goods.

The breakup of the United States might also offer new opportunities for

European expansion in other parts of the Americas. It was, for example,

during the American Civil War that Napoleon III sent a French army to

Mexico and set up a kind of satellite empire under the Austrian archduke Maximilian. The

most serious European attempt to challenge the Monroe Doctrine, violate the indepen-

dence of a Latin American republic, and revive European colonialism thus occurred at the

time when the United States was in dissolution.

But the North won the war and the Union was upheld; the Mexicans soon got rid of their

unwanted European emperor; and Tsar Alexander II sold Alaska to the United States. More

generally, the war ended the older idea that the United States was a Union or confederation

from which member states might withdraw at will. The outcome of the American Civil War

therefore settled a political argument about the meaning of the American republic, and the

United States in the 1860s affi rmed the increasingly popular view of the

nation-state as it was defi ned in Europe. The United States would be a

national state, composed not of member states but of a unitary national peo-

ple irrevocably bound together. This doctrine was now written explicitly into

the Fourteenth Amendment of the Constitution, which pronounced all Americans to be citi-

zens not of their several states but of the United States. Meanwhile, the Thirteenth Amend-

ment abolished slavery everywhere in the country (without compensation to the former

slaveholders) and linked the United States somewhat belatedly to the broader nineteenth-

century European campaign to abolish slavery and serfdom. The Northern triumph in the

Civil War thus ensured the continuing consolidation of a unifi ed North American nation that

could be counted among those countries such as Germany and Italy that were also unifying

diverse territories under more centralized national governments during this same era.

The Union victory in the American Civil War expanded the infl uence of Northern

industrialists and others who sought to advance the nation’s internal economic development

through manufacturing and fi nance. As in France under Napoleon III, there was a good deal

of corruption, fraud, and irresponsible speculation, but industry boomed, the cities grew, and

the American national state became more like other industrializing nations

in Europe as it promoted the building of railroads, provided public lands

for the creation of state-supported universities, and facilitated the growth of

new business corporations. In short, the American Civil War, which might

have reduced English-speaking America and its diverse regions into com-

peting minor republics, resulted instead in the economic and political consolidation of a

large nation-state, liberal and more democratic in its political principles, offi cially opposed

to slavery, and committed to the expansion of a capitalist industrial economy. In all of these

ways, the history of the United States in this era can be seen as part of a wider process of

nation-building throughout the Atlantic world.

European responses to

American Civil War

The Union upheld

Infl uence of business

and fi nance

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567

The Dominion of Canada: A New Model for Decolonization

North of the United States, at the time of the American Civil War, lay a vast territory that was

still part of the British Empire and in varying degrees still dependent on Great Britain.

The European population in this territory had originated in three great

streams. One part was French, settled in the St. Lawrence Valley since the

seventeenth century. A second part was made up of descendants of United

Empire Loyalists, the old seaboard colonists who had fl ed from the United

States after the American Revolution. A third part consisted of recent immigrants from Great

Britain, men and women of the working classes who had left the home country to improve

their lives in America.

Although there were recurring tensions and confl icts between the French-speaking

and English-speaking populations, the people in Canada had shown little inclination to

separate from Great Britain. During the 1840s and 1850s, however, the British government

moved toward a new system of self-government for its enormous North American colony.

This transition drew on the recommendations of Lord Durham, a Whig

political leader who had served as a governor in Canada and also written an

infl uential report on Canadian affairs. Durham’s Report was long regarded

as one of the classic documents in the rise of the British Commonwealth of

Nations—the international system that gradually evolved out of the modern British

Empire. His recommendations included proposals for economic improvements such as the

building of railroads, but Durham’s Report also put forward new political plans. He urged

the granting of virtual self-government for Canada (united in one great

province of French- and English-speaking populations) and the introduc-

tion of the British system of “responsible government,” in which the prime

minister and cabinet should be responsible to and under the control of the

elected assembly in the province. The British governor would become a kind of legal and

ceremonial fi gure like the sovereign in Great Britain.

Lord Durham’s proposals were generally adopted, and Canada moved toward the

autonomous governing of its internal affairs. The principle of responsible government was

established by the late 1840s, so that the British governors of Canada allowed the elected

assembly to adopt policies and appoint or remove ministers as it chose. This system

became the foundation for an even more independent Canadian state that began to emerge

while the Civil War was tearing apart the United States. In the face of this example (and

despite the concerns of many French Canadians), the Canadian political elites decided to

form a strong union in which all powers were to rest in the central government except those

specifi cally assigned to the various provinces. A new federal constitution,

drafted in Canada by Canadians, was passed by the British Parliament in

1867 as the British North America Act, which constitutionally established

the Dominion of Canada. The eastern maritime provinces (Nova Scotia,

New Brunswick, and Prince Edward Island) joined Quebec and Ontario in

the new Dominion. These political arrangements established a united country that facili-

tated rapid westward expansion to the Pacifi c Coast, and Canada became another example

of the transatlantic movement toward modern national consolidation.

The Dominion of Canada, though at fi rst not large in population, possessed from the

beginning a signifi cance beyond the mere number of its people. It was the fi rst example of

successful devolution, or granting of political liberty and independence, within one of the

European colonial empires. It embodied principles that Edmund Burke and Benjamin

Franklin had vainly recommended a century before to keep the thirteen colonies loyal to

European population

Lord Durham’s

Report

Self-government

British North

America Act

67. Nation-Building in the Wider Atlantic World: The United States and Canada

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Chapter 13 The Consolidation of Large Nation-States, 1859–1871568

Great Britain. T he Dominion after 1867 moved forward from independence in internal mat-

ters to independence in such external affairs as tariffs, diplomacy, and the decisions of war

and peace. Although Britain would continue to expand its empire in other

parts of the world after 1870, its policies in Canada pioneered the develop-

ment of a “dominion status” that became the precedent for other European

“settler societies” that later gained political independence—Australia (1901),

New Zealand (1907), and the Union of South Africa (1910). A similar model

was also used in the 1920s, temporarily, in Ireland. By the middle of the twentieth century

the same idea, or what may be called the Canadian idea, was also applied in various ways to

the worldwide process of decolonization as the British Empire gave up control of its colo-

nies in Asia and Africa. Despite their often diffi cult and confl icted transitions to national

independence, people in India, Pakistan, Sri Lanka, and the former British colonies in Africa

chose to become postcolonial republics that would remain loosely and voluntarily joined

together and to Great Britain in a Commonwealth of Nations.

More immediately, in America, the founding of the Canadian dominion stabilized

relations between British North America and the United States. Both Canada and the

United States regarded their long national border as fi nal; and each of these expanding

nations now set out to develop their national territories (a process that would include the

displacement of indigenous peoples and new internal confl icts among the different regions

of each nation). The withdrawal of British control from Canadian affairs also furthered the

long-developing conception of an American continent entirely free from European politi-

cal control, though the European model of state-building and national cultures would

remain infl uential long after the departure of the last British colonial administrators.

The unifying North American nations therefore exemplifi ed a wider process of

national consolidation that spanned the Atlantic Ocean and spread across Europe to Russia

(reaching also into Japan). It was an era in which emerging modern societies were revolu-

tionized economically by the railroad and steamship and also revolutionized

politically by the consolidation of new national political institutions. These

states increasingly embodied certain liberal and constitutional principles,

or at least the machinery of representative government. But the whole earth

had also become an arena in which powerful national states sought to pro-

mote their economic and political interests with little respect for the constitutional prin-

ciples that were becoming important in domestic political institutions. The most powerful

European states in 1871 included Great Britain, Germany, France, Austria-Hungary, and

Russia. Britain had developed a new political mechanism for the emergence of a postco-

lonial nation in Canada, but the main European powers were at this time more interested

in acquiring colonies than in promoting decolonization. Whether the newly united Italian

nation should be called a Great Power was not yet clear. All agreed that the United States

would eventually play a large role in international affairs, but it had not yet become a major

infl uence on the politics and economies of Europe.

Model for dominion

status

Power of national

states

For suggested further readings and useful Web sites, interactive exercises, glossary, chronologies,

and more, go to the Online Learning Center at www.mhhe.com/palmerhistory11e.

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569

C h a p t e r 14 EUROPEAN CIVILIZATION,

1871–1914:

ECONOMY AND POLITICS

Half a century   elapsed between the period of national consolidation described in the last chapter

and the outbreak of the First World War in 1914.

In this half-century European civilization achieved

its greatest power in global politics, developed

its leading role in the global economy, and also

exerted its maximum infl uence upon peoples out-

side Europe.

For Europe and the European world the years

1871 to 1914 were marked by hitherto unparalleled

material and industrial growth; international peace;

domestic stability; the advance of constitutional,

representative, and democratic government; and

continued faith in science, reason, and progress.

But in these very years, in politics, economics, phi-

losophy, and the arts, there were also new trends

operating to undermine the liberal premises and tenets of this European civilization. Mean-

while, a new wave of European imperialism spread across Africa and Asia, creating new

colonial empires, new global economic connections, and new international and cultural

confl icts. All of these developments contributed to and refl ected the European ascendancy

before 1914, and all produced a legacy that has decisively infl uenced the modern world

down to our own time.

For purposes of historical analysis, we must separate the European ascendancy in this

complex era into different thematic strands. This chapter therefore examines economic and

political trends in Europe after 1871, the next describes new European social and cultural

movements that became infl uential during this period, and the following chapter discusses

the worldwide impact of European imperialism. By 1914, the institutions and ideas of

modern European civilization were spreading across most of the world, but these same

institutions and ideas were also facing new critical challenges from within Europe and

from people on other continents who resented the European domination of their econo-

mies, governments, and cultures.

68. The Modern “Civilized

World”

69. Basic Demography:

The Increase

of Europe’s Population

70. The World Economy

of the Nineteenth Century

71. The Advance

of Democracy:

Third French Republic,

United Kingdom,

German Empire

Chapter emblem: Detail from a photograph of Italian immigrants arriving in New York about 1900. (The Art

Archive at Art Resource, NY)

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Chapter 14 European Civilization, 1871–1914: Economy and Politics570

68. THE MODERN “CIVILIZED WORLD”

Materialistic and Nonmaterialistic Ideals

With the extension of the nation-state system Europe was more clearly divided among self-

conscious political entities that jealously guarded their borders and sovereign interests. Its

unity lay in a kind of modern historical convergence that was moving Europeans toward

similar ways of social life and similar cultural beliefs (despite the growth of nationalism,

which, on a deeper level, expressed commonly held assumptions about human societies).

This convergence also developed in countries where large numbers of Europeans continued

to immigrate, including the United States, Canada, Australia, and New Zealand. Europe

and its social, cultural offshoots constituted what Europeans and North Americans increas-

ingly called the “civilized world” or the “West.” Other regions—mostly in Asia, Africa,

and Latin America—were described by Europeans as “backward.” Europeans and other

Westerners were thus extremely conscious and inordinately proud of their civilization in

the half-century before 1914. They believed it to be the well-deserved outcome of centuries

of progress. Believing themselves to be the most advanced branch of mankind in the most

important areas of human endeavor, they assumed that all peoples should respect the same

social ideals—that insofar as other peoples were unwilling or unable to adopt them, they

were “backward,” and that insofar as they did adopt European ways, they became “civi-

lized” in their turn. Such ideas shaped the ideology and practice of imperial-

ism, which entered a dynamic new phase in the late nineteenth century.

The ideals of this European or “Western” civilization were in part

materialistic. If Europeans and Westerners considered their civilization to

be better in 1900 than in 1800, or better than the ways of non-Western peo-

ples at the same time, it was because they took pride in having more wealth and a higher

standard of living, which gave them more kinds of food and clothing, new household com-

forts, and better sanitary facilities. Europeans also saw clear signs of material progress in

their modern ocean liners, railroads, streetcars, and telegraph systems; and after about 1880

they were beginning to use telephones and electric lights. But the ideal of civilization, as

Europeans defi ned it, was by no means exclusively materialistic. Knowledge as such, cor-

rect or truthful knowledge, was held to be a civilized attainment—scientifi c knowledge of

nature, in place of superstition or demonology; geographical knowledge, by which civi-

lized people were aware of the earth as a whole with its general contours and diverse inhab-

itants. The ideal was also profoundly moral, derived from Christianity, but now secularized

and detached from religion. An Englishman, Isaac Taylor, in his Ultimate Civilization, published in 1860, defi ned this moral ideal by listing the contrasting “relics of barbarism”

that he thought would ultimately disappear from human history—“Polygamy, Infanticide,

Legalized Prostitution, Capricious Divorce, Sanguinary and Immoral Games, Infl iction of

Torture, Caste and Slavery.” Several of these had been unknown to the approved customs

of Europe at least since the coming of Christianity (though prostitution was more or less

tolerated in almost all European societies). Torture had gone out of use by about 1800,

even in the illiberal European states; and legalized caste and slavery were gradually abol-

ished by Western countries in the course of the nineteenth century. But most non-Western

peoples, in 1860, still allowed or tolerated two or three of the “relics” that Taylor placed

outside the realm of civilized behavior.

Apart from these cultural conceptions of modern civilization, there were

(and are) certain other indices, more purely quantitative, that sociologists

worked out to show the level of advancement of a given society. One of

The ideals of

European civilization

Indices of

advancement

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57168. The Modern “Civilized World”

these was the death rate, or number of persons per thousand of population who died each

year. In England, France, and Sweden the “true” death rate (or death rate regardless of the

proportion of infants and old people, who are most susceptible to death) fell from about

25 (per 1,000 per year) before 1850, to 19 in 1914 and 18 in the 1930s. Indeed, before

the Second World War, it stood seemingly stabilized at about 18 in all countries of north-

western Europe, the United States, and the British dominions. Death rates in countries not

“modern” have usually run over 40 even in favorable times. A closely related index was

infant mortality, which fell rapidly after 1870 in all countries affected by medical science.

Thus a woman under more modern conditions had to go through pregnancy and childbirth

less often to produce the same number of surviving children. Another index of improving

conditions was life expectancy, or the age that a person, at birth, had an even chance of

attaining. In England life expectancy at birth rose from 40 years in the 1840s to 59 in 1933

and to 78 at the beginning of the twenty-fi rst century. In India in 1931 it was less than

27 years. It had risen to about 65 by 2010. Still another index was the literacy rate, or pro-

portion of persons above a certain age (such as ten) able to read and write. In northwestern

Europe by 1900 the literacy rate approached 100, whereas in some countries of the world

at that time it had still not risen very far above zero. A further basic index of social change

could be found in the productivity of labor, or amount produced by one worker in a given

expenditure of time. This is often diffi cult to compute, especially for earlier periods for

which statistical data are lacking. In the 1930s, however, the productivity of a farmer in

Denmark was over ten times that of a farmer in Albania. All northwestern Europe was

above the European average in this respect with the exception of Ireland, whereas Ireland,

Spain, Portugal, Italy and all eastern Europe fell below it.

The essence of civilized living has doubtless always evolved in the intangibles, in

the way in which people use their minds and in the attitudes they form toward others or

toward the conditions and planning of their own lives. The intangibles, however, can carry

quite different meanings for persons of different cultures or ideologies. On the quantitative

criteria there is less disagreement. People in almost all societies wish to lower the death

rate, raise the literacy rate, and increase the productivity of human exertion. Whatever we

might say about the intangible qualities of a civilized society, if we apply quantitative or

sociological indices alone, we can say that for about four decades after 1870 Europe was in

fact the political, economic, and cultural center of a modern civilization that was develop-

ing new material advantages and expanding rapidly around the world.

The “Zones” of Civilization

Or rather, a certain region of Europe was the center. For there were really two Europes in

the late nineteenth century, an inner zone and an outer. A Frenchman writing in the 1920s

about the two Europes that had risen since 1870, called the inner zone the “Europe of

steam,” and bounded it by an imaginary line joining Glasgow, Stockholm, Danzig,

Trieste, Florence, and Barcelona. It included not only Great Britain but Belgium,

Germany, France, northern Italy, and the western portions of the Austrian Empire. Virtu-

ally all heavy European industry was located in this zone. Here the railway network was

thickest. Here the wealth of Europe was concentrated, in the form both of a high living

standard and of accumulations of capital. Here likewise were almost all the laboratories

and scientifi c activity of Europe. Here, in the same zone, lay the strength of constitutional

and parliamentary government and of liberal, humanitarian, socialist, and reformist move-

ments of many kinds. In this zone the death rate was low, life expectancy was high,

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Chapter 14 European Civilization, 1871–1914: Economy and Politics572

conditions of health and sanitation were at their best, literacy was almost universal, pro-

ductivity of labor was impressive. To the same zone, for practical purposes, belonged

certain regions of large-scale European settlement overseas, especially the

post-Civil War United States.

The outer zone included most of Ireland, most of the Iberian and

Italian peninsulas, and all Europe east of what was then Germany, Bohe-

mia, and Austria proper. The outer zone was agricultural, though the productivity of

agriculture, per farm worker or per acre, was far less than in the inner zone. The people

were poorer, more illiterate, and more likely to die young. The wealthy were landlords,

The outer zone

TRAIN IN THE SNOW by Claude Monet (French, 1840–1926)

Trains became one of the new symbols of modernity during the nineteenth century, but few artists saw them as appropriate subjects for paintings. Monet and other Impressionists, how- ever, wanted to apply their artistic techniques to the familiar objects of everyday life, includ- ing the iron shapes of a passing locomotive. In this typical Impressionist rendering of modern technology, the solid mass of the train melts into the play of light and the indeterminate grays of a dull winter day. (Erich Lessing/Art Resource, NY)

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57369. Basic Demography: The Increase of Europe’s Population

often absentees. Most people in the outer zone increasingly supported themselves after

1870 by selling grain, livestock, wool, or lumber to the more industrialized inner zone

but they were too poor to purchase many manufactured products in return. To obtain

capital, the outer-zone societies borrowed in London or Paris. Their social and political

philosophies were characteristically imported from Germany or other western European

cultures. They borrowed engineers and technicians from the fi rst zone to build bridges and

install telegraph systems, and they sent their youth to universities in the fi rst zone to study

medicine or other professions. Many areas of European settlement overseas, for example

in Latin America and the agrarian parts of the United States, may also be thought of at that

time as belonging to this outer zone.

Beyond the European world lay a third zone, the immense reaches of Asia and Africa,

all viewed as “backward” by the standards or cultural assumptions of Europe, with the

exception of modernizing Japan; and it was these areas of the world, after 1870, that

became most widely colonized by Europe and most disrupted by the “new imperialism”

of the major European powers. Much of the world’s history since 1870 could be written

as a recurring story of the economic and cultural relations among these three zones.

But it is necessary in all human matters to guard against formulas that are too simple

and also to recognize the constant changes as well as continuities in the histories of all

human societies.

69. BASIC DEMOGRAPHY: THE INCREASE OF EUROPE’S POPULATION

European and World Population Growth since 1650

All continents except Africa gained enormously in population in the three centuries fol-

lowing 1650, but it was Europe that grew the most. There is little doubt that the propor-

tion of Europeans in the world’s total, including those of European origin in other

continents, reached its maximum for all time between 1850 and the Second World War

(broad estimates for global population trends, beginning with 1650, are given in the table

on p. 574).

The causes of the rise in population after 1650 cannot be positively

known. Some of them obviously operated in Asia as well as Europe. In

Europe the organized sovereign states, as established in the seventeenth

century, put an end to a long period of civil wars, stopping the chronic

violence and marauding, with the accompanying insecurity of agriculture and family life,

which were more deadly than wars fought between governments. Similarly, the Tokugawa

shogunate (1600–1868) kept peace in Japan, and the Manchu or Qing dynasty (1644–1912)

brought a long period of order in China. The British rule in India and the Dutch in Java

greatly reduced the autonomous power of local rulers, but it also curbed internal violence

and famines, thus helping populations to grow very rapidly. All such factors, which allowed

more people to remain alive longer, also favored the stability of families and the birth

and raising of children. Death rates could fall and birth rates could rise from similar causes.

The great exception to the swelling rise of population was Africa, where the slave trade

removed over 10 million people (and what would have been an even larger number of their

descendants) in three or four centuries, and where slave raiding led to the disruption of

African cultures. In the Americas the native Indians were devastated by diseases brought

from Europe to which at fi rst they had no immunity.

Causes of

demographic growth

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Chapter 14 European Civilization, 1871–1914: Economy and Politics574

ESTIMATED POPULATION OF THE WORLD BY CONTINENTAL AREAS*

Millions

1650 1750 1850 1900 1950 2000

Europe 100 150 263 396 547 727

United States and Canada 1 2 26 82 172 313

Australasia-Oceania 2 2 2 6 13 31

Predominantly “European” 103 154 291 484 732 1,071

Latin America 12 16 38 74 167 521

Africa 100 106 111 133 230 811

Asia 330 515 822 959 1,403 3,719

Predominantly “Non-European” 442 637 971 1,166 1,800 5,051

World Total 545 791 1,262 1,650 2,532 6,123

Percentages

Europe 18.3 19.1 20.8 24.0 21.6 11.9

United States and Canada .2 .2 2.1 5.0 6.8 5.1

Australasia-Oceania .4 .2 .2 .3 .5 .5

Predominantly “European” 18.9 19.5 23.1 29.3 28.9 17.5

Latin America 2.2 2.0 3.0 4.5 6.6 8.5

Africa 18.3 13.0 8.8 8.1 9.1 13.3

Asia 60.6 65.0 65.1 58.1 55.4 60.7

Predominantly “Non-European” 81.1 80.0 76.9 70.7 71.1 82.5

World Total 100.0 100.0 100.0 100.0 100.0 100.0

*This table is designed to show only the numbers and proportion of people living in predominantly “European”

cultures (that is, descended from societies with European languages and traditions) and “non-European” cul-

tures over the modern period. It reveals the rapid increase in the proportion of “Europeans” in this sense from

1750 to 1900, and a steady decline in the “European” proportion during the twentieth century. The estimates

show general population patterns rather than precise numbers (which cannot really be known). Demographers

often revise their estimates for the number of people in past societies, and this table, though a useful overview,

is subject to serious reservations. The population of the former Soviet Union is divided between Europe and

Asia, but millions of Russian “Europeans” have long lived in the Asian parts of the former U.S.S.R. It must also

be remembered that the population of the United States consists of Africans, Asians, and Native Americans as

well as Europeans, that the people in Latin American countries now generally speak a European language and

differ widely in their racial composition, and that there are well over 4 million persons of European origin in

southern Africa. In short, the table has nothing to do with race, for there are many whites who do not live in

“European” cultural zones and many nonwhite people in the Americas and elsewhere (including Europe) who

participate fully in institutions and languages derived from Europe.

Sources: For 1650 to 1900, A. N. Carr-Sanders, World Population (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1936); for 1750, 1850, and 1900, John D. Durand, “The Modern Expansion of World Population,” in Proceedings of the American Philosophical Society, vol. 111 (1967); and for 1950 and 2000, United Nations, World Populations Prospects, the 2010 Revision (New York: United Nations, 2011), and Massimo Livi-Bacci, A Concise History of World Population, 5th ed. (Oxford: Wiley Blackwell, 2012).

In Europe, sooner than elsewhere, other causes of growth were at work beyond the

maintenance of civil peace. T h ey included liberation from certain endemic

affl ictions, beginning with the subsiding of bubonic plague in the seven-

teenth century and the use of vaccination against smallpox in the eigh-

teenth. Agricultural improvement produced more food, notably in England

Improved living

conditions

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575

after about 1750. The improvement of transportation by road, canal, and railroad made

localized famine a thing of the past, because food could be moved into areas of temporary

shortage. With the Industrial Revolution larger populations could subsist in Europe by

importing food from overseas. In the cities of Europe and North America, by 1900, the

supply of pure drinking water and facilities for the disposal of garbage and sewage were

better than in the past.

Hence population grew for several generations more substantially in Europe and its

offshoots than elsewhere. The approximate percentages in the table on page 574 show that

Asia, by these estimates, increased less than threefold between 1650 and 1900, but Europe

increased fourfold, and the total number of Europeans, including the descendants of those

who migrated to other continents, multiplied fi vefold. The ascendancy of European civili-

zation in the two and a half centuries after 1650 was due in some measure to demographic

growth. But while in 1900 the proportion of “Europeans” in all continents was approach-

ing a third of the human race, after 1900 this proportion began to fall. By the early twenty-

fi rst century it could be projected that “Europeans” would constitute only a tenth of the

human beings on the planet in the year 2100.

Stabilization of European Population

The stabilization and relative decline of the European population followed from a fall in

the birth rate. As early as 1830 the birth rate began noticeably to drop in France, with the

result that France, long the most populous European state, was surpassed in population by

Germany about 1870, by the British Isles about 1895, and by Italy about 1930. France, once

thought to be decadent for this reason, was in fact only the leading country in a population

cycle through which the European countries seemed to pass. The birth rate, which had fallen

below 30 per hundred in France in the 1830s, fell to that level in Sweden in the 1880s; in

England in the 1890s; and in Germany and the Netherlands between 1900 and 1910. After

the Second World War there was a temporary rise, but by 2000 the birth rate was less than

15 per 1,000 in Europe and North America, hardly suffi cient to maintain existing popula-

tion levels. In much of the rest of the world it was still well over 25 or even 30.

The reduced birth rate is not a mere dry statistical item, nor does it affect populations

merely in the mass. It is one of the indices of a more modern civilization, fi rst appearing in

that inner European zone in which the other indices were also highest, and thence spread-

ing outward in a kind of wave. Concretely, a low birth rate in the nineteenth century meant

that families averaged from two to four children, where in former times, families might

consist of ten children or even more. The low birth rate refl ects the small family system,

and few institutions were more fundamental to modern life. The principal means used to

hold down the birth rate, or to limit the family, was the practice of contraception. But the

true causes or reasons why parents wanted to limit their families were deeply embedded in

the social patterns of modernizing societies.

Historical demographers have detected a “European family pattern” as

far back as the seventeenth century. It was a pattern in which, in comparison

to other societies, Europeans married later, and a larger number never mar-

ried at all. Late marriage shortened the number of years during which a

woman bore children and enabled young people to acquire skills or accumulate savings (as

in tools and household goods) before setting up new families. The effect was less-explosive

population growth, and less-extreme poverty, than in other parts of the world. Evidence

indicating the use of various forms of contraception can be found in the eighteenth century

A European family

pattern

69. Basic Demography: The Increase of Europe’s Population

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Chapter 14 European Civilization, 1871–1914: Economy and Politics576

among the upper classes, by study of the number and spacing of their children. The practice

seems to have spread to other social classes during and after the French Revolution, in part

because the new Napoleonic Code (1804) required that inheritances be divided among all

sons and daughters. The French peasants, many of them owners of land, began to limit

themselves to two or three children in order that all children (by inheritance, marriage, and

dowries) might remain in as high an economic and social position as their parents. It was

thus the quest for economic security and higher living standards that led to the reduced

birth rate in France and subsequently in other parts of Europe.

In the great cities of the nineteenth century, in which standards of life for the work-

ing classes often collapsed, the effect might at fi rst be a proliferation of

offspring. But life in the city, under crowded conditions of housing, also

set a premium on the small family. There were many activities in the city

that people with many children could only with diffi culty enjoy. After about

1880 child labor became much less frequent among the working classes. When children

ceased to earn part of the family income, parents tended to have fewer of them. About the

same time governments in the advanced countries and nation-states began to require univer-

sal compulsory schooling. The number of years spent in education, and hence in economic

dependency upon parents, grew longer and longer until it became common even for young

adults to be still engaged in study. Each child represented many years of expense for its

parents. The ever rising idea of what it was necessary to do for one’s children and the desire

of parents to give them every possible advantage in a competitive world were probably the

most basic causes of voluntary limitation of the family. Hardly less basic was the desire to

lighten the burdens upon mothers. The small family system, together with the decline of

infant mortality, because they combined to free women from the interminable bearing and

tending of infants, probably did more than anything else to improve the position of women

in modern societies. Freed at least in part from the traditional cycles of pregnancy and child

care, middle-class women were eventually able to pursue advanced education, new profes-

sions, and new kinds of social or political activities. The use of contraception also spread

widely among the working class during the early twentieth century; demographic research

in England, for example, suggests that almost 70 percent of working-class couples were

using contraception by the 1930s (compared to fewer than 20 percent in 1900).

The effects of the small family system upon total population became manifest only

slowly. More people lived on into the middle and older age groups, and the fall of the birth

rate was gradual, so that in all the leading countries total numbers continued to rise, except

in France, which hardly grew between 1900 and 1945. The persistent note was one of

superabundant increase. In fi ve generations, between 1800 and 1950, a population of about

200 million “Europeans” grew into roughly 700 million “Europeans” around the globe.

Because productivity increased even more rapidly, the standard of living for most of these

“Europeans” rose in spite of the increase of numbers, and there was no general problem of

overpopulation.

Growth of Cities and Urban Life

Where did so many people go? Some stayed in the rural areas where most people had

always lived. Rural populations in the inner zone became more dense, turning to the more

intensive agriculture of truck gardening or dairy farming, leaving products like wool and

cereal grains to be raised elsewhere and then imported. But it is estimated that of every

seven persons added to the western European population only one stayed on the land. Of

the other six, one left Europe altogether and fi ve went to the growing cities.

Life in the city

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577

The nineteenth-century city was mostly the child of the railroad, for with the railroads

it became possible for the fi rst time to concentrate manufacturing in large towns, to which

bulky goods such as foods and fuel could now be moved in great volume. The growth of

cities between 1850 and 1914 was phenomenal. In England two-thirds of the people lived

in places of 20,000 or less in 1830; in 1914 two-thirds lived in places of 20,000 or more.

Germany, the historic land of archaic towns carried over from the Middle Ages, rivaled

England after 1870 in modern industrial urbanization. Whereas in 1840 only London and

Paris had a million people, the same could be said by 1914 of other major European cities

such as Berlin, Vienna, St. Petersburg, and Moscow. Some places, like the English Mid-

lands and the Ruhr Valley in Germany, became a mass of contiguous smaller cities, vast

urban agglomerations divided only by municipal lines.

THE GLEANERS by Jean-Francois Millet (French, 1814–1875)

Although France, like other European countries, became a more urban society over the course of the nineteenth century, many French people still lived and worked in the countryside, as Millet showed in this painting of poor peasant women who gleaned the fi elds for a few stalks of grain. (Alinari/Art Resource, NY)

69. Basic Demography: The Increase of Europe’s Population

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Chapter 14 European Civilization, 1871–1914: Economy and Politics578

The evolving demographic pattern in nineteenth-century European bourgeois families may be seen in this portrait of a Victorian-era English family sitting in their garden. The declin- ing number of children eventually gave women more time and freedom for diverse activities because they were less tied to long cycles of pregnancies and childrearing. (Hulton Archive/Getty Images)

The great city set the tone of modern society. City life was impersonal

and anonymous; people were uprooted, less tied to home or church than

in the country. They lacked the country person’s feeling of deference for

aristocratic families. They lacked the sense of self-help characteristic of older rural com-

munities. It was in the city that the daily newspaper press, which spread rapidly in the

wake of the telegraph after 1850, found its most habitual readers. The so-called yellow or

sensational press appeared about 1900. Articulate public opinion was formed in the cit-

ies, and city people were on the whole disrespectful of tradition, receptive to new ideas,

having in many cases deliberately altered their own lives by moving from the country or

from smaller towns. It is hardly surprising that the new conditions of urban life fostered

the spread of socialism among the industrial masses in European cities. Some of the more

Impact of urban life

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579

blatant nationalism that arose after 1870 was also stimulated by city life, for people felt

increasingly detached from all institutions except the state. At the same time city life,

by its greater facilities for schooling, reading, and discussion, made for a more alert and

informed public opinion of an enlightened kind.

Migration from Europe, 1850–1940

During the same period in which cities were growing, almost 60 million people left

Europe altogether, of whom possibly a fi fth sooner or later returned. This vast movement

of people is called the Atlantic Migration because all crossed that ocean

except those who moved to European settler societies in Africa, Australia,

and New Zealand or from European to Asian Russia. It towers above all

other European migrations in magnitude, and possibly also in signifi cance,

for it was by this means that earlier colonial offshoots of Europe were

transformed into new societies that carried the very strong infl uence of European political,

social, religious, and cultural traditions. All parts of Europe contributed to the migration,

as shown in the table below, which comprises the years from 1850 to 1940. Before 1850

the mass movement had scarcely begun, though by that time over a million immigrants had

entered the United States since the close of the Napoleonic wars. After 1940 the character

of intercontinental migration was greatly transformed. In recent decades, since the Second

World War, there have been large migrations into Europe from Africa, the Middle East,

and Asia, and into the Americas from places outside Europe. But in the century before

1940 the migration of European peoples was a key force in the dissemination of European

institutions and cultures.

The Atlantic

Migration

From: British Isles 18,300,000

Italy 10,200,000

Russia 9,000,000

Germany 5,000,000

Spain 4,500,000

Austria-Hungary 4,200,000

Portugal 2,500,000

Sweden 1,200,000

Norway 750,000

Denmark 470,000

Finland 390,000

France 390,000

Switzerland 340,000

Netherlands 210,000

Belgium 150,000

57,600,000

EMIGRATION FROM EUROPE, 1850–1940

Source: William Woodruff, Impact of Western Man: A Study of Europe’s Role in the World Economy, 1750–1960 (New York: St. Martin’s Press, 1966), p. 106.

69. Basic Demography: The Increase of Europe’s Population

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Chapter 14 European Civilization, 1871–1914: Economy and Politics580

It is hard to give satisfactory fi gures for emigration from Europe. In the statistical

sources the English, Scots, Welsh, and Irish are usually mixed, and until the First World

War, that is until 1914, the Poles, Czechs, other Slavic peoples, Hungarians, East European

Jews, and others were not counted as such but were included among emigrants from the

Russian, Austro-Hungarian, and German empires. Millions of Jews, Irish, Poles, and many

thousands of others are therefore invisible in the fi gures, which also include several mil-

lion Russians who moved from the European to Asian parts of Russia. It must be remem-

bered also that some intercontinental migration did not involve Europeans. For a few years

after 1850 enslaved Africans were still brought illegally to the United States and Brazil.

Workers went from India to the West Indies and South Africa, and many Chinese settled in

the United States and southeast Asia. With these reservations, the table on this page shows

the pattern of European emigration in the 90 years preceding the Second World War.

The British and Irish went to the British dominions and the United States. The Italians

divided between the United States and Latin America. Spaniards settled overwhelmingly

in the Spanish American republics, and the Portuguese settled in Brazil. The Germans

moved overwhelmingly to the United States, though some went to Argentina and Brazil.

The extraordinary preponderance of the United States is apparent. At the same time, it

should be noted that almost half of the European migration went to other countries around

the world. The new countries received the following infl uxes of people:

Causes of the exodus

To: United States 32,300,000

Asian Russia 7,000,000

Argentina 6,600,000

Brazil 4,700,000

Canada 4,300,000

Australia 2,900,000

New Zealand 650,000

Uruguay 600,000

Cuba 600,000

South Africa 250,000

Mexico 250,000

IMMIGRATION INTO VARIOUS COUNTRIES, 1850–1940

Source: Woodruff, Impact of Western Man, p. 108.

The exodus from Europe was due to a remarkable and temporary juxta-

position of causes. One fundamental cause, or precondition, was that before

1914 the new countries generally welcomed immigration. Hands were

wanted to farm the land, build houses, dig in the mines. This was least true of Australia and

New Zealand, which preferred to limit themselves to English-speaking settlers and which

also pioneered as social democracies, becoming models even before 1900 of legislation to

protect the working classes. One result was that no inrush of outsiders to compete for jobs

at low wages was desired. A similar combination of national preferences and labor protec-

tionism led to laws restricting immigration in the United States in 1921 and 1924. There-

after immigrants could enter only under quotas, and the quotas were lowest for eastern and

southern Europe, the areas from which most emigration had been coming.

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581

TO CANADA

E U R O P E TO THE UN

ITED STAT ES

TO LA

TI N

AM ER

IC A

TO A

SI A

N R

U SS

IA

TO AUSTRALIA AND NEW ZEALAND

T O

SO U

T H

A FR

IC A

Width of Arrows Is Proportionate to the Number of Emigrants

0 10 20 30 40 50 60 EMIGRANTS TO:

UNITED STATES

LATIN AMERICA

ASIAN RUSSIA

CANADA

AUSTRALIA AND NEW ZEALAND

SOUTH AFRICA

TOTAL EMIGRANTS 1850–1940

MILLIONS OF PERSONS

MIGRATION FROM EUROPE, 1850–1940 About 60 million people left Europe in the century preceding the Second World War, distrib- uting themselves as shown in the diagram above. (See fi gures on p. 580.) About half went to the United States, but the migration of European peoples also built up “European” societies in other regions of the world. These overseas “European” societies, which also included many non-European peoples, produced food and raw materials for Europe and borrowed capital or bought manufactured goods from Europe, thus helping to support European economic devel- opment and to expand the modern worldwide economic system.

69. Basic Demography: The Increase of Europe’s Population

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Chapter 14 European Civilization, 1871–1914: Economy and Politics582

In Europe there were many conditions propelling emigrants outward. Physically, the

steamship made it easier and cheaper to cross the sea, and the railroad helped people to get

to the ports as well as to distribute themselves after landing in the new countries. Economi-

cally, people in the lower social classes could more easily afford a long journey. People

migrated to improve their material circumstances; but some high points in the wave of

emigration coincided with high points in the business cycle in Europe, when jobs in Europe

were plentiful and wages were at their highest. Of the opposite case, of actual fl ight from

economic ruin or starvation, the emigration from Ireland after 1846 is the best example. In

the “great potato famine” of 1845–1849 nearly 1 million Irish died of starvation and dis-

ease, and more than 1.5 million emigrated to the United States in the next few years. After

the revolutions of 1848 a certain number of Europeans also left Europe for political rea-

sons, and, later on, to avoid compulsory military service. The best example of fl ight from

segregation and discrimination, and from direct persecution in government-encouraged

pogroms, was the emigration of the Jews of Russia and Russian Poland, of whom a million

and a half moved to the United States in the 15 years preceding the First World War.

But perhaps the most basic historical factor in the whole European exodus was the

underlying liberalism of the age. Never before (nor since) had people been

legally so free to move. Old laws requiring skilled workmen to stay in their

own countries were repealed, as in England in 1824. The old semicom-

munal agricultural villages, with collective rights and obligations, holding

individuals to their native groups, fell into disuse except in Russia. The disappearance of

serfdom allowed the peasants of eastern Europe to change residences without obtaining

a lord’s permission. Governments permitted their subjects to emigrate, to take with them

their savings of shillings, marks, kronen, or lire, and to change nationality by becoming

Freedom of movement

The mass migration of people is one of the distinctive social patterns of mod- ern history, and such migrations have reshaped societies in all parts of the world. This Italian woman and her chil- dren, who arrived in New York about 1900, were part of the vast emigration out of Europe that deeply affected the social and economic development of postcolonial nations in the Americas. (The Art Archive at Art Resource, NY)

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58370. The World Economy of the Nineteenth Century

naturalized in their new homes. The rise of liberty in Europe, as well as the hope of enjoy-

ing it in America, made possible the great emigration. This mass movement of people was

all the more remarkable because it took place by private initiative and at private expense.

The new national states did not initiate or organize the migration; individuals, fami-

lies, and small local groups (to borrow the metaphor of one authority) simply detached

themselves atom by atom from the mass of Europe, crossed the seas on their own, and reat-

tached themselves atom by atom to the accumulating mass of the New World. The mass

migrations of the late nineteenth century thus launched a worldwide movement of people

that continues to the present day, grows in importance, and remains one of the most char-

acteristic social patterns of modern world history.

70. THE WORLD ECONOMY OF THE NINETEENTH CENTURY

How did the swelling population of Europeans manage to feed itself? How, in fact, did it

not merely feed itself but enjoy an incomparably higher standard of living in 1900 than

in 1800? The answers to such questions varied in the different regions of Europe, but the

overall advance came through the new science, industry, transportation, and communica-

tions and also through the expansion of global trading systems. At the same time, Europe-

ans were developing new business, fi nancial, and labor organizations that contributed to a

steady growth in economic productivity.

The “New Industrial Revolution”

The Industrial Revolution and the global economy entered upon a new phase, which is

often called the “new” or “second” Industrial Revolution. The use of steam power, the

growth of the textile and metallurgical industries, and the advent of the railroad had char-

acterized the earlier era of industrialization. Now, after 1870, new sources of power were

tapped, the already mechanized industries expanded, new industries appeared, and indus-

try spread geographically.

The steam engine itself was refi ned and improved. By 1914 it still predominated over

other power machinery, but electricity with its incomparable advantages came into use.

The invention of the internal combustion (or gasoline) engine and the diesel engine gave

the world automobiles, airplanes, and submarines in the two decades before 1914; the

advent of the automotive and aviation industries made oil one of the most

coveted natural resources. In the new chemical industries industrial research

laboratories were replacing the individual inventor. Chemists discovered

new fertilizers and from coal tar alone produced a bewildering array of new

products ranging from artifi cial food fl avors to high explosives. With explosives the fi rst

great tunnels were built, the Mount Cenis in 1873, the Simplon in 1906—both in the Alps;

and great new canals, the Suez in 1869, the Kiel in 1895, the Panama in 1914. Chemistry

made possible the production of synthetic fabrics like rayon, which revolutionized the

textile industry. Electricity transformed all indoor and outdoor lighting, making cities both

brighter and safer. There was a communications revolution too. The telephone appeared in

the 1870s, and the Italian inventor Guglielmo Marconi helped to bring the continents

closer together when he successfully transmitted wireless signals across the Atlantic in

1901. The moving picture and the radio modestly presented themselves before 1914 and

soon led to the production of new popular entertainments that crossed the traditional social

Industrial advances

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Chapter 14 European Civilization, 1871–1914: Economy and Politics584

and cultural boundaries of European societies. Medicine ran the alphabetical gamut from

anesthetics to X-rays; yellow fever was overcome. Vastly improved processes for refi ning

iron ore made possible a great expansion in the production of steel, the key product of the

new industrial age; aluminum and other metal alloys were also produced through new

industrial processes. Railroad mileage multiplied; the European network, including the

Russian, increased from 140,000 miles in 1890 to 213,000 in 1914.

In this second phase of the Industrial Revolution machine industry spread geographi-

cally from Britain and Belgium, the only truly industrial countries in 1870, to France, Italy,

Russia, Japan, and, most markedly, to Germany and the United States. In Europe industrial

production was concentrated in the “inner zone.” Three powers alone—Britain, Germany,

and France—accounted in 1914 for more than seven-tenths of all European manufactures

and produced over four-fi fths of all European coal, steel, and machinery. Of

the major European powers Germany was now forging ahead. To use steel

alone as a criterion, in 1871 Germany was producing annually three-fi fths

as much steel as Britain; by 1900 it was producing more, and by 1914 it was

producing twice as much as Britain—but only half as much as the new industrial giant,

the United States. By 1914 American steel output was greater than that of Germany,

Britain, and France combined. Britain, the pioneer in mechanization, was being outstripped

in both the Old World and the New. The three European powers increased their industrial

production by about 50 percent in the two decades before 1914, but the United States

had a far higher annual growth rate from 1870 to 1913, 4.3 percent as compared to the

next leading powers, Germany with 2.9 percent, Britain with 2.2 percent, and France with

1.6 percent. By 1914 the United States had moved ahead of Europe in the mechanization

of agriculture, in manufactures, and in coal and steel production, in which it was producing

over two-fi fths of the world’s output. The Americans were pioneering also in assembly-

line, conveyor-belt techniques for the mass production of automobiles and all kinds of

consumer goods, thereby launching a twentieth-century challenge to Europe’s long-term

dominance in the global economy.

Free Trade and the European “Balance of Payments”

It was Britain in the mid-nineteenth century, then the workshop of the world, that had inau-

gurated the movement toward free trade. It will be recalled that in 1846, by the repeal of

the Corn Laws, the British embarked upon a systematic free trade policy, deliberately

choosing to become dependent upon overseas imports for their food. France adopted free

trade in 1860. Other countries soon followed. It is true that by 1880 there was a movement

back to protective tariffs except in Britain, Holland, and Belgium. But the tariffs were

impediments rather than barriers, and the economic system, until 1914, increasingly

depended on the extreme mobility of goods across political frontiers. Politically, Europe

was more than ever nationalistic; but economic activity, under generally liberal conditions

in which business was supposed to be free from the political state, remained predomi-

nantly international and globe-encircling.

Broadly speaking, the great economic accomplishment of Europe before 1914 was to

create a system by which the huge imports used by industrial Europe could be acquired

and paid for. All European countries except Russia, Austria-Hungary, and the Balkan states

imported more than they exported. It was the British again who led in this

direction. Britain had been a predominantly importing country since the

close of the eighteenth century. Despite the expanding export of cotton

The industrial powers

Imports vs. exports

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585

manufactures and other products of the Industrial Revolution, Britain consumed more

goods from abroad than it sent out. Industrialization and urbanization in the nineteenth

century confi rmed the same situation. Between 1800 and 1900 the value of British exports

multiplied eightfold, but the value of imports into Great Britain multiplied tenfold, and in

the decade before 1914 the British had an import surplus of about three-quarters of a bil-

lion dollars a year. Great Britain and the industrial countries of Europe together (roughly

Europe’s inner zone), at the beginning of the twentieth century, were drawing in an import

surplus, measured in dollars, of almost $2 billion every year (the dollar then representing

far more goods than it came to represent later). The imports into Europe’s inner zone con-

sisted of raw materials for its industries and of food and amenities for its people.

How were the imports paid for? How did Europe continue to enjoy a favorable

balance of payments despite an unfavorable balance of trade in commodities? Export of

European manufactures paid for most imports, but not all. It was the so-

called invisible exports that made up the difference, that is, shipping and

insurance services rendered to foreigners, and interest on money lent out or

invested, all bringing in foreign exchange and enhancing Britain’s position

in the global economy. Shipping and insurance were important. An Argentine merchant in

Buenos Aires, to ship hides to Germany, might employ a British vessel; he would pay the

freight charges in Argentine pesos, which might be credited to the account of the British

Invisible exports

The Bessemer steel-making process enhanced the production of steel and rapidly became an important component of industrial expansion during the later decades of the nineteenth cen- tury. Its importance for Britain is suggested by this illustration of the future King Edward VII and his wife, who are observing the new methods of steel production from box seats at a fac- tory in Sheffi eld in 1875. (Henry Guttmann/Getty Images)

70. The World Economy of the Nineteenth Century

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Chapter 14 European Civilization, 1871–1914: Economy and Politics586

shipowner in an Argentine bank; the British shipowner would sell the pesos to someone, in

England or elsewhere in Europe, who needed them to buy Argentine meat. The far-fl ung

British merchant marine thus earned a considerable amount of the food and raw materials

needed by Britain. To insure themselves against risks of every conceivable kind people all

over the world turned to Lloyds of London. With the profi ts drawn from selling insurance

the British could buy what they wished. Governments or business enterprises borrowed

money in Europe, mainly in England; the interest payments, putting foreign currencies into

European and British hands, constituted another invisible export by which large quantities

of imports could be fi nanced. But the lending of money to foreigners is only part of a larger

phenomenon, the export of capital.

The Export of European Capital

The migration of millions of Europeans had the effect of creating new European-style

economies and societies that purchased manufactures from Europe and produced the food,

wool, cotton, and minerals that Europe needed. European nations could not have had such

far-reaching international infl uence if they had exported people only, especially people of

such small means as most emigrants were. Europe also exported the capital that enabled

the new settlers in overseas societies to develop productive economies.

The export of capital meant that an older and wealthier country, instead of using its

whole annual income to raise its own standard of living, or to add to its own capital by

expanding or improving its houses, factories, machinery, mines, and transportation, diverted

some of its income to expanding or improving the houses, factories, machinery, mines, and

transportation of foreign countries. It meant that British, French, Dutch, Belgian, Swiss,

and eventually German investors bought the stocks of foreign business enterprises and the

bonds of foreign businesses and governments; or they organized companies of their own to

operate in foreign countries; or their banks granted loans to banks in New York or Tokyo,

which then lent the funds to local users.

Capital arose in Europe to some extent from the savings of quite small people, espe-

cially in France, where peasants and modest bourgeois families were notably

thrifty. But most capital accumulated from savings by the well-to-do. The

owners of a business, for example, instead of spending the company’s

income by paying higher wages, took a portion of it in profi ts or dividends,

and instead of spending all this on their own living, reinvested part of it in domestic or

foreign enterprises. The gap between rich and poor was thus one cause of the rapid accu-

mulation of capital, though the accumulation of capital, in the nineteenth century, produced

in turn a steady rise of living standards for the working classes. In a sense, however, the

common people of western Europe, by forgoing the better housing, diet, education, or

pleasures that a more democratic or consumer-oriented society might have provided for

them, contributed by their productivity to the export of capital and hence the fi nancing and

building up of other regions of the world.

The British were the chief exporters of capital, followed at some distance by the French,

and at the close of the century by the Germans. As early as the 1840s half the annual increase

of wealth in Great Britain was going into foreign investments. By 1914 the British had

$20 billion in foreign investments, the French had about $8.7 billion, and the Germans had

about $6 billion. A quarter of all the wealth owned by the inhabitants of Great Britain con-

sisted in 1914 of holdings outside the country. Almost a sixth of the French national wealth

lay in investments outside France. All three countries had given hostages to fortune, and

Capital accumulation

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587

fortune proved unkind, for in the First World War the British lost about a quarter of their

foreign investments, the French lost about a third, and the Germans lost all.

These huge sums, pouring out from Europe’s inner zone for a century before 1914,

at fi rst went mainly to fi nance the Americas and the less affl uent regions

of Europe. European capital was also invested in Asia and Africa, espe-

cially after the rapid expansion of Europe’s colonial empires in the 1890s.

No country except Great Britain completely built its railways with its own

resources. In the United States the railway system was built very largely

The recipients of

European capital

CLASSIC LANDSCAPE by Charles Sheeler (American, 1883–1965)

This landscape depicts an American plant of the Ford Motor Company in 1931, but it also sym- bolizes what has been called the Second Industrial Revolution. In this phase of industrializa- tion, electricity, the internal combustion engine, and the automobile were especially important, and industry spread far beyond its early centers in Britain and western Europe. The picture is “classic” in its clear delineation, its array of familiar mathematical forms, and the universality of its message. The plant seems rational and precise, but there are no human beings. It is as if the machine had a life of its own and could do without human hands. (National Gallery of Art)

70. The World Economy of the Nineteenth Century

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Chapter 14 European Civilization, 1871–1914: Economy and Politics588

with capital obtained from England. In central and eastern Europe British companies

often constructed the fi rst railways, then sold out to native operating companies or to gov-

ernments that subsequently ran them. In the Argentine Republic the British not merely

fi nanced and built the railways, but long continued to operate and own them. In addi-

tion, up to 1914 the British sold about 75 million tons of coal a year to South America to

keep the railways going, not to mention items for replacement and upkeep of equipment.

Docks, warehouses, mines, plantations, processing and manufacturing establishments all

over the world were similarly built up with capital drawn from Europe. European capital

also helped emigrants in the new countries to develop public services and institutions that

required major fi nancial investments. In the United States, for example, state and local

governments very commonly sold their bonds in Europe to build roads, pave streets, or

construct school systems for the westward-moving population. A few of these American

bonds proved a partial or total loss to European investors, but on the whole, by 1914, the

United States had paid back a good deal of its indebtedness. Even so, in 1914, Americans

still owed about $4 billion to Europeans—a sum three times as large as the national debt

of the United States at the time. This kind of economic investment (along with the patterns

of mass immigration) helps to explain how and why Europe remained deeply involved in

distant nations that had long since declared their political independence from European

colonial empires.

An International Money System: The Gold Standard

The international economy rested upon an international money system, based in turn upon

the almost universal acceptance of the gold standard. England had adopted the gold stan-

dard in 1821, when the pound sterling was legally defi ned as the equivalent of 113 grains of

fi ne gold. Western Europe and the United States adopted an exclusively gold standard in the

1870s. A person holding any “civilized” money—pounds, francs, dollars, marks, and the

like—could turn it into gold at will, and a person holding gold could turn it into any money.

The currencies were like so many different languages all expressing the same meaning. All

had substantially the same value, and until 1914 the exchange rates between currencies

remained highly stable. It was assumed that no modern industrial country’s currency ever

“fell”; such things might happen in a remote Latin American republic or in China, or in the

French Revolution, but not in the world of modern progress and European affairs.

The important currencies were all freely exchangeable. A French mer-

chant selling silks to a German, and hence receiving German marks, could

turn the marks into francs, pounds sterling, or dollars. That is, he was not

obliged to buy from Germany or spend his money in Germany but could

use the proceeds of his German sale to buy French, British, or American goods or services

as he chose. Trade was multilateral. A country needing imports from another country, such

as American cotton, did not have to sell to that country to obtain them; it could sell its own

goods anywhere and then import according to its needs.

It was the acceptance of the gold standard, and the fact that all important countries

possessed a suffi cient share of gold to support their currencies, that made

possible so fl uid an interchange. At the same time the gold standard had

less wholesome effects. It was hard on countries that lacked gold. And it

produced a gradual fall of prices, especially between 1870 and 1900,

because (until the gold discoveries in South Africa, Australia, and Alaska in

the 1890s) the world’s production of gold lagged behind the expanding production of

Currency exchange

Effects of the gold

standard

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589

industrial and agricultural goods. Persistently declining prices were a hardship to those

who habitually worked with borrowed money—many farmers, many businessmen, and

debtor nations as a whole. A famous speech by William Jennings Bryan in the United

States in 1896, declaring that mankind should not be crucifi ed “upon this cross of gold,”

expressed a common, worldwide anger about a fi nancial system that worked against the

interests of indebted persons and indebted nations. But falling prices were an advantage to

the wage-earning class, which generally improved its position in these years, and also to

the wealthy, the owners and lenders of capital, the bankers and fi nanciers, who so long as

prices were falling were repaid in money of more value than that which

they had lent.

The center of the global economic and fi nancial system was London.

The London banks prospered in consequence of the defeat of Napoleon,

the older fi nancial centers in Amsterdam having been ruined in the Revolutionary and

Napoleonic wars. It may be recalled also that the victors in 1815 imposed upon France an

indemnity of 700 million francs, which in 1818 was taken over by a syndicate of private

bankers; the London banks played a leading part in this affair and so developed close

connections with many government treasuries. In the Crimean War of 1854–1856, with

England at war with Russia, the London banks fl oated loans for the Russian government—

so independent were business and politics at the time. The early adoption of the gold

standard in England meant that many people, British and foreign, kept their funds in the

form of sterling on deposit in London, where quantities of available capital therefore accu-

mulated. London became the apex of a fi nancial pyramid that had the world for its base.

It was the main center for the exchange of currencies, the clearinghouse of the world’s

debts, the depository from which all the world borrowed, the banker’s bank, as well as the

world’s shipping center and the headquarters of many international corporations.

A World Market: Unity, Competition—and Insecurity

Never had the earth been so unifi ed economically, with each region playing specifi c roles

in a global specialization. Western Europe, and in 1870 mainly Great Britain, was the

world’s industrial workshop. Other parts of the earth supplied its many needs. An English

economist marveled in 1866 that Britain now had its granaries in Chicago and Odessa, its

forests in Canada and the Baltic, its sheep farms in Australia, and its gold and silver mines

in California and Peru, while drinking tea brought from China and coffee from East Indian

plantations. The same could have been said of most of Europe’s inner-zone

nations by the time of the First World War.

A true global market had been created. Goods, services, commodities,

money, capital, and people moved back and forth almost without regard

to national boundaries. Articles were bought and sold at uniform world prices. Dealers in

wheat, for example, followed prices in Minneapolis, Liverpool, Buenos Aires, and Danzig

as reported by telegraph and cable from day to day. They bought where it was cheapest and

sold where it was dearest. In this way the world’s wheat supply was distributed roughly

according to need or ability to pay. The worker of Milan, if the Italian crop was poor and

prices were high, was fed from another source. On the other hand, the Italian wheat grower

would in this case feel the pinch of world competition. The world market, while it orga-

nized the world into a unifi ed economic system, at the same time brought distant regions

into competition for the fi rst time. The producers of goods and commodities—whether

entrepreneur, factory employee, farmer, or coffee planter—had no secure outlet for their

London at the center

A true global market

70. The World Economy of the Nineteenth Century

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Chapter 14 European Civilization, 1871–1914: Economy and Politics590

EXPORT OF EUROPEAN CAPITAL TO 1914 In 1914 the British, French, and Germans held upwards of $30 billion in foreign and colonial loans and investments, distributed as shown on the map. Dutch investments, especially in the West Indies, together with Swiss, Belgian, and Scandinavian holdings, would add several billion dollars more. Proceeds from such investments helped Europeans to pay for the excess of their imports over exports. British capital predominated in the overseas world, while the less-developed regions of eastern Europe and the Middle East were fi nanced mainly from Germany and France. Much of the investment shown here was lost or expended in the First World War.

GREAT BRITAIN GERMANY

FRANCE

TO R

US SI A

TO AUSTRIA-HUNGARY AND THE BALKANS

TO THE OTTOMAN EMPIRE

TO A

FR IC

A , A

SIA

A N

D A

U STR

A LIA

TO LA

TI N

AM ER

IC A

TO THE UNITED STATES AND CANADA

Width of Arrow Segments Is Proportionate to the Amount of Capital Export

0 1 32 4 6 8 10 12 14 16 18 20

BILLIONS OF DOLLARS

GREAT BRITAIN

FRANCE

GERMANY

EXPORTED CAPITAL TO:

ASIA, AFRICA, AND AUSTRALIA

UNITED STATES AND CANADA

LATIN AMERICA

RUSSIA

AUSTRIA-HUNGARY AND THE BALKANS

OTTOMAN EMPIRE

TOTAL EXPORTED CAPITAL

TO 1914

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591

products, as had generally been true in the past. They were in competition not only with

persons across the street or down the road but also with other producers throughout the

world. It was this worldwide system of production and consumption that established the

modern economic foundation for what is now called “globalization.”

The creation of an integrated world market, the fi nancing and building up of countries

outside of Europe, and the consequent feeding and support of Europe’s increasing popula-

tion were the great triumphs of the nineteenth-century system of unregulated capitalism.

The system was intricate, with thousands and even millions of individuals and business

fi rms supplying each other’s wants without central planning. But it was extremely precari-

ous, and the position of most people in this network of global economic exchanges was

exceedingly vulnerable. Region competed against region and person against person. A fall

of grain prices in the American Middle West, besides ruining a few speculators, might

oblige German or Argentine wheat growers to sell at a price at which they could not live.

Factory owners might be driven out of business if competitors successfully undersold them

or if a new commodity made their own product obsolete. The workers, hired only when

needed by an employer, faced unemployment when business slackened or when jobs dis-

appeared because of labor-saving inventions.

The system went through cycles of boom and depression, the most

notable example of the latter being the “long depression” that set in about

1873 and lasted to about 1893. The new global economy depended on

expansion and on credit; but sometimes people could not pay their debts, so

that credit collapsed; and sometimes expansion failed to keep pace with expectations, and

anticipated profi ts proved to be losses. To combat the essential insecurity of private capi-

talism, governments, businesses, and workers resorted to all manner of devices. Against

competition from other countries governments established protective tariffs; business

enterprises entered into acquisitions and mergers, sometimes approaching monopolies. For

the working classes governments adopted social insurance measures as protection against

accidents, illness, and unemployment. Labor meanwhile turned increasingly to its own

trade unions and socialist parties. All this signalized the gradual decline in the years after

1880 of nineteenth-century unregulated, laissez-faire capitalism.

Changes in Organization: Big Business

A great change came over capitalism itself about 1880 or 1890. Formerly characterized

by a large number of small units, small businesses run by individuals, partnerships, or

small companies, it was increasingly characterized by large and impersonal corporations.

The attractions of the “limited liability” corporation as a form of business

organization and as a means of encouraging investment arose from laws

enacted by most countries in the nineteenth century that limited the indi-

vidual investor’s personal loss in the event of a bankruptcy to the amount of

his or her shares of stock in the enterprise. The corporation, in its modern

form appearing fi rst with the railroads, became the usual form of organization for industry

and commerce. As machinery grew more complicated, only a large pool of capital could

fi nance it. And as corporations grew in size and number, relying on the sale of stock and

the issue of bonds, the infl uence of banking and fi nancial circles was enhanced. Financiers,

using not so much their own money as the savings of others, had a new power to create or

to destroy, to stimulate, discourage, or combine corporate enterprises in various industries.

Industrial capitalism brought fi nance capitalism with it.

Cycles of boom and

depression

The “limited liability”

corporation

70. The World Economy of the Nineteenth Century

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Chapter 14 European Civilization, 1871–1914: Economy and Politics592

The new world market strongly encouraged the development of export industries and com- modity production in agrarian societies that mainly produced food in earlier times. During the decades before 1914, the colonized areas of Asia, Africa, and the Americas rapidly increased their production of commodities such as tea, coffee, sugar, and cocoa, most of which fl owed into the more industrialized, capitalist economies of Europe and North America. These work- ers in India collected tea for export and thus participated, though with low wages, in a global trading system that was transforming agriculture and daily life throughout the modern world. (The Art Archive at Art Resource, NY)

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59371. The Advance of Democracy: Third French Republic, United Kingdom, German Empire

Corporate organization made it possible to concentrate diverse economic processes

under unifi ed management. In retail commerce, large department stores appeared after

about 1870 in the United States and France, selling all kinds of goods that were formerly

sold only in small shops and establishing a fi xed price for each piece of merchandise. In

industry, steel offers a good example of the new, large-scale enterprises. Steel became a

big business when heavy blast furnaces were introduced. It was not economically safe for

the steel business, or for the blast furnaces, to rely for iron and coal on independent pro-

ducers. The steel works therefore began to operate mines of their own or to buy out or

otherwise reduce coal and iron mines to subsidiary status. Some, to assure their markets,

began to produce not merely steel but steel manufactures as well—steel ships, railway

equipment, naval and military ordnance. Thus entire processes from mining

to fi nished product became concentrated in a “vertical” integration.

“Horizontal” integration meant that concerns at the same level com-

bined with each other to reduce competition and to protect themselves against fl uctuations

in prices and markets. Some fi xed prices, some agreed to restrict production, and some

divided up markets among themselves. They were called trusts in the United States; car-

tels, in Europe. They were common in the steel industry and in many other new industries

at the close of the century, such as chemicals, aluminum, and oil. It was in

the United States that such big business developed furthest, headed by

“captains” of industry and “titans” of fi nance. Andrew Carnegie, by origin

a poor Scottish immigrant boy, produced more steel than all England; but

industrial production in Europe was also increasingly consolidated in large

national and transnational cartels.

Many of the new combinations were benefi cial in making the ups and downs of busi-

ness less erratic, and so providing more stable prices and more continuous and secure

employment. Generally they reduced the costs of production; but whether the savings went

into higher profi ts, higher wages, or lower prices depended on numerous factors. Some

cartels were greedier than others or were confronted with only weakly organized or unor-

ganized labor. In any case, for good or ill, decisions rested with management and fi nance.

A new kind of private power had arisen, which its critics liked to call “feudal.” Because

no economic system had ever been so centralized up to that time, never in fact had so few

people exercised so much economic power over so many. The middle class, with the rise

of great corporations, came typically to consist of salaried employees; the salaried person

might spend a lifetime with the same company, and feel toward it, in its disputes with labor

or government, a loyalty not unlike that of a lord’s retainer in feudal times. The labor-

ing class was less amenable; labor attempted to organize unions capable of dealing with

increasingly gigantic employers. It also after about 1880 played an increasingly decisive

role in the politics of all advanced nations.

71. THE ADVANCE OF DEMOCRACY: THIRD FRENCH REPUBLIC, UNITED KINGDOM, GERMAN EMPIRE

In the years from 1815 to 1870 European political life had been marked by the rise of

nationalism and by liberal agitation for constitutional government, representative assem-

blies, responsible ministries, and guarantees of individual liberties. In the years from 1871

to 1914 the most notable political development was the democratic extension of the vote to

working-class men—the adoption of universal male suffrage, which in turn meant for the

fi rst time the creation of mass political parties and the need for political leaders to appeal

Vertical integration

“Captains” of

industry, “titans” of

fi nance

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Chapter 14 European Civilization, 1871–1914: Economy and Politics594

to a wide electorate. Although there was growing agitation for voting rights for women in

the decades before 1914, that reform would not be achieved until after the First World War

(and, in some countries, after the Second World War). The extension of male suffrage and

democratization often took place in a continuing monarchical and aristocratic framework,

but almost everywhere in Europe by 1914 some machinery of democratic self-government

was being introduced. In addition, to counter the growing strength of socialism after 1871,

and for humanitarian reasons, governments were also assuming responsibility for the

social and economic problems arising from industrialism. The welfare state in its modern

form began to take shape.

France: The Establishment of the Third Republic

In France the democratic republic was not easily established, and its troubled early years

left deep cleavages within the country. It will be recalled that in September 1870, when the

empire of Napoleon III revealed its helplessness in the Franco-Prussian War, insurrection-

aries in Paris, as in 1792 and 1848, again proclaimed the creation of a French Republic. A

provisional government of national defense sought desperately to continue the war, but the

cause was hopeless. By January 1871, a bitter siege of Paris came to an end and an armi-

stice was signed. Bismarck, insisting that only a properly constituted government could

make peace, permitted the election, by universal male suffrage, of a National Assembly

that was to consider his peace terms and draft a constitution for the new French state.

When the elections were held in February, it was found, as in 1848 (and, indeed, 1797),

that republicanism was so distrusted by the French people as a whole, and most especially

in the provinces and rural areas, that a free election brought monarchist elements into

power. Republicanism was still thought to be violent—bellicose in its foreign policy, tur-

bulent in its political workings, unfriendly to the church, and socialistic or at least egalitar-

ian in its views of property and private wealth. The new Assembly contained only about

200 republicans out of more than 600 deputies.

But the Paris republicans, who had defended France when Napoleon III failed to do

so, who for four months had been besieged, starved, and frozen by the Germans, and who

still refused to make peace on the harsh terms imposed by Bismarck and about to be

accepted by the Assembly, refused to recognize the latter’s authority. A civil war broke out

between the National Assembly, now sitting at Versailles, and the city of Paris, where a

revolutionary municipal council or “Commune” was set up. Paris, so lately attacked by

German soldiers, was soon attacked again by the French soldiers of the new

National Assembly.

The Paris Commune, which lasted from March to May 1871, seemed

to be another explosion of social revolution. Actually, it was in essence a

revival of the Jacobinism of 1793. It was fi ercely patriotic and republican; anti-German;

opposed to wealthy bourgeois, aristocrats, and clergy; in favor of government controls of

prices, wages, and working conditions, but still not socialist in any sweeping or systematic

way. Among its leaders, however, there were a few of the new international revolutionary

socialists who saw in a Jacobin or democratic republic a step toward their new order. Marx

in England, and others elsewhere, hopefully read into the Commune the impending doom

of the bourgeoisie. This was precisely what more conservative elements feared. To many

of the French middle and peasant class, and to people like them all over Europe, it seemed

that the Communards were wild and savage destroyers of nineteenth-century civiliza-

tion. The fi ghting in Paris was atrocious beyond anything known in any preceding French

The Paris Commune

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The Bon Marché department store in Paris became a well-known example of the new, large stores that began to displace smaller shops and independent merchants. The new commercial culture is evident in this late nineteenth-century illustration of the store’s vast expanse, pro- liferation of merchandise, and affl uent shoppers. Department stores provided a safe meeting place for women as well as lower prices for the many new products of the industrial era. (The New York Public Library/Art Resource, NY)

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Chapter 14 European Civilization, 1871–1914: Economy and Politics596

revolution. The Communards, in fi nal desperation, burned a number of public buildings

and put to death the archbishop of Paris, whom they held as a hostage. The armed forces of

the National Assembly, when fi nally triumphant, were determined to root out the inveter-

ate revolutionism of Paris. Some 330,000 persons were denounced, 38,000 were arrested,

20,000 were put to death, and 7,500 were deported to New Caledonia. The Third Republic

was born in an atmosphere of class hate and social terror.

The form of government for the new regime still had to be established. The monar-

chist majority in the Assembly was itself evenly divided between those who favored a

restoration of the Bourbon family and those who favored the Orléanist. The monarchists

thus checkmated each other and, in effect, opened the way toward a new French Republic.

Meanwhile, after extended discussion of various constitutional projects, the Assembly

adopted in 1875 not a constitution, but certain constitutive laws. By a margin of one vote,

a resolution indirectly amounting to the establishment of a republic was passed. The new

laws provided for a president, a parliament in two chambers, and a council of ministers, or

cabinet, headed by a premier. The two legislative bodies were to emerge from different

electoral processes: the Senate was to be elected by a complicated and indirect system of

election, the Chamber of Deputies, by universal, direct, male suffrage.

Within two years, in 1877, the role of the president, the ministers, and the parliament

was further clarifi ed as a result of an unsuccessful attempt by an early president, Marshal

MacMahon, to dismiss a premier of whom he did not approve but who had the backing of

the Chamber. MacMahon proceeded to dissolve the Chamber and to hold new elections,

but the example of Napoleon III’s transformation of the Second Republic into an authoritar-

ian regime was still fresh. The elections vindicated the principle of parliamentary primacy

and of the responsibility of the premier and his cabinet to the legislature,

especially to the more popularly elected lower house. The true executive

in republican France for a long time was not the president, who became a

ceremonial fi gure, but the premier and the cabinet, themselves held strictly

to account by a majority of the legislature. Unfortunately, that majority, in a

parliament where a dozen or so parties were represented, was always diffi cult to form and

could be created only by unstable, temporary, shifting party alliances, coalitions, or blocs.

No president, and indeed no premier, could henceforth dissolve the Chamber in order to

hold new elections and consult the country as could be done in Britain. Actually, under

the Third Republic the substantial machinery of state—ministries, prefectures, law courts,

police, army, bureaucracy, all under highly centralized control—was carried over virtu-

ally untouched as in all upheavals since the time of Napoleon I. France in the nineteenth

century, although volatile in appearance, in effect underwent less extensive governmental

reorganization than any other leading country in Europe.

Troubles of the Third French Republic

Yet the Third Republic was precarious. The government had changed so often since 1789

that all forms of government seemed to be transitory. Questions that in other countries were

questions about specifi c government policies or party programs became in France funda-

mental questions of “regime”—monarchy versus republic. Many people, especially those

infl uenced by the upper classes, the Catholic clergy, and the professional army offi cers,

continued to harbor a positive aversion to the republic. On the other hand, the unmerciful

and vindictive repression of the Commune made many middle-class people sympathetic

to the republicans. Many turned republican simply because no other form of government

Parliamentary

primacy

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established itself or because it was the form of government that divided the country the

least. As republicanism took in wider elements of society, it became less revolutionary

and less fearsome. In 1879, for the fi rst time, republicans won control of both houses of

the government. In the 1880s their radicalism hardly went further than the founding of a

democratic and compulsory school system at government expense and the passage of anti-

clerical legislation intended to curb church infl uence in education.

For over a quarter of a century, however, republican energies had to be expended in

defense of republican institutions in order to ensure the survival of the regime. An initial

crisis arose in 1886–1889, when General Boulanger gathered around him an incongruous

following that included not only Bonapartists, monarchists, and aristocrats but also extreme

radical republicans who wished a war of revenge against Germany and workers who were

disgruntled over their economic conditions. Boulanger became a popular fi gure and

This barricade and its defenders suggest the revolutionary fervor of the Paris Commune, which controlled the French capital in the spring of 1871. The Commune was in many respects a revival of revolutionary Jacobinism rather than a precursor of social revolution, but it pro- voked intense fear and brutal repression from more conservative forces in French society. Revolutionary images of Parisian radicals in the streets—as seen in this photograph—made the Paris Commune a symbol of political idealism and martyrdom for many socialists and a symbol of dreadful social dangers for the middle and upper classes. (akg-images/Newscom)

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Chapter 14 European Civilization, 1871–1914: Economy and Politics598

seemed for a moment about to seize power. But the menace collapsed in a comical failure

as the general lost heart at the crucial hour and fl ed into exile. Meanwhile, in the 1880s and

1890s scandals and revelations of corruption in high republican circles provided ammuni-

tion for the antirepublicans. Moreover, the hope that unsympathetic French Catholics

would “rally” to the republic, as urged by French prelates and by Pope Leo

XIII in 1892, was shattered by the Dreyfus Affair, which in the late 1890s

rocked the country and attracted wide attention outside France as well.

In 1894 a French military court found Captain Alfred Dreyfus, a

Jewish army offi cer, guilty of treason for leaking secret military documents to the

German embassy in Paris. Dreyfus was deported to life imprisonment at Devil’s Island,

but evidence accumulated to show his innocence and to indicate the guilt of another offi -

cer, Major Esterhazy, an adventurer known to be riddled with gambling debts. But the

army refused to reopen the case, unwilling to admit it had erred; a staff offi cer, Major

Henry, even forged documents to confi rm Dreyfus’s guilt. Meanwhile anti-Semites, roy-

alists, traditionalists, militarists, and most of the “best” people fought the reopening of the

case, deeming it unpatriotic to shake the nation’s confi dence in the army and wishing also

to disgrace the republican regime. The partisans of Dreyfus stubbornly upheld him, both

because they believed in justice and because they wished to discredit their antirepublican

adversaries. The country was deeply split into political and cultural factions that defended

or attacked republicanism with arguments that repeated the bitter ideological confl icts of

The Dreyfus Affair

This photograph of Alfred Dreyfus shows the French army cap- tain after he was found guilty of treason in 1894. Stripped of his army rank and deported to prison on an island near French Guiana, his unjust conviction sparked bitter debates in France, a surge of anti-Semitism, and protracted legal campaigns that ulti- mately led to his complete exoneration and return to the French army. (Hulton Archive/Getty Images)

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599

every French revolution since 1789. Finally, following a passionate pro-Dreyfus cam-

paign by writers such as Emile Zola, Dreyfus was pardoned by the French president in

1899 and granted complete legal exoneration in 1906. In the aftermath of the affair, leftist

republicans and socialists held power in the Chamber of Deputies and gained revenge

by blocking the promotions of antirepublican offi cers and by anticlerical legislation.

In 1905, in a series of laic laws, they “separated” church and state, unilaterally ending

the close relationship established under Napoleon’s concordat a century earlier. All ties

between church and state were severed, priests and bishops were no longer to be paid by

the state, church property was taken over (“even the chandeliers”) by the government, and

Catholic laymen were to administer each parish. The Pope retaliated by excommunicat-

ing all deputies who had voted for these measures. Gradually compromises were worked

out; some provisions were made less stringent, and tensions, if they did not disappear,

at least eased.

The Strength and Weakness of the Republic

The Third Republic, when the First World War came in 1914, had lasted more than twice

as long as any French regime since 1789. Born unwanted and accidentally,

though it still had opponents, the republic now commanded the loyalty of

the overwhelming mass of the French people. What it had done, since 1871,

was to domesticate democratic republicanism in Europe. Republicanism,

one of the most militant of revolutionary movements down to 1870, had

been shown in France to be compatible with order, law, parliamentary government, eco-

nomic prosperity, and a mutual tolerance between classes, to the extent at least that they

no longer butchered each other in the streets. Industrial workers were in many ways less

well off than in England or Germany, but there were fewer of them; and for most people

France in these years was a pleasant country, where painters, writers, scholars, and scien-

tists fl ourished, where bankers, bourgeois and well-established farmers could freely pursue

their economic interests, a country living comfortably and unhurriedly on the savings of

generations, and one in which, in close-knit family groups, average men and women could

plan securely for their own and their children’s future.

But the comforts and values of bourgeois France were not those that would be needed

for international leadership in the modern age of technology and industrial power. Though

substantial economic progress was made, the country lagged behind Germany in industrial

development; the French entrepreneur showed little inclination to take the business risks

needed for industrial growth. Politically, the fragmentation of political parties, itself a

democratic refl ection of a divided public opinion, and the distrust for historic reasons of a

strong executive power led to the rise and fall of numerous short-lived ministries—no

fewer than 50 in the years between 1871 and 1914. Ministerial instability was to be a

chronic problem of the Third Republic both before and after 1914; continuity of govern-

ment policy was, however, generally maintained because of stability in certain key minis-

tries and because of the permanent civil service.

French labor remained a steady source of discontent. Although French workers

benefi ted from some labor legislation in the two decades after 1890, they continued

to feel frustrated at the failure to establish a “social republic.” Social-

ist representation in the Chamber grew, strengthening the antiroyalist

factions in the French government. However, the most important single

party of the republic, the Radicals, or Radical Socialists, were in actuality

Domesticating

republicanism

The Radical

Socialists

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Chapter 14 European Civilization, 1871–1914: Economy and Politics600

radical republicans—patriotic, anticlerical spokesmen for the small shopkeepers and the

lesser propertied interests; they drew the line at the advanced social legislation that labor

expected from them, and on occasion their leaders even took positive steps to prevent

unionization and to suppress strikes. Because some of these Radicals had started out

as socialists, the distrust of French workers for all politicians and even for political

processes was intensifi ed. But the diffi culties of the republic went deeper. The political

energies of France’s republican leaders had gone into liquidating the past, into curbing

the political strength of the monarchists, the church, and the army; by the turn of the

century, even before these older issues were fully resolved, the republic was compelled

to meet the challenge of labor and to face other domestic and international pressures that

were to try it sorely. The Third Republic was to weather the crisis of the First World War

but not that of the Second.

The British Constitutional Monarchy

The British constitutional monarchy in the half-century before 1914 was the great exem-

plar of reasonable, orderly, and peaceable self-government through parliamentary meth-

ods. For over 60 years (1837–1901), spanning two-thirds of the nineteenth century, Queen

Victoria reigned as a constitutional monarch and gave her name to a distinguished era of

material progress, literary accomplishment, and political stability. The two major political

parties, Liberal and Conservative, the heirs roughly of the Whigs and Tories, took form in

the 1850s, the former producing its great leader in William E. Gladstone; the latter, a series

of leaders of whom the most colorful was Benjamin Disraeli.

The advance toward an egalitarian political democracy in Britain was more cautious

and slower than in France. The Reform Bill of 1832 had granted the vote to about an eighth

of the adult male population. The democratic Chartist agitation of the 1830s and 1840s

attracted wide popular support but failed to produce further reforms in the electoral sys-

tem. In 1867, however, in response to continued demand for a wider suffrage, the Second

Reform Bill was passed, Conservatives as well as Liberals outdoing one another in an

effort to satisfy the country and to win new political strength for their own party. The bill,

adopted under Disraeli’s Conservative ministry, extended the suffrage from

about 1 million eligible voters to about 2 million, or over a third of the adult

males in the United Kingdom, reaching down far enough to include most

workers in the cities. Disraeli’s colleague Lord Derby called it a “leap in

the dark.” In 1884, under Liberal auspices, the suffrage was again broad-

ened, this time in the rural areas, adding some 2 million additional voters and enfranchis-

ing over three-fourths of all adult males in the country. Not until 1918 did Great Britain

adopt universal male suffrage, as generally understood; and at that time the long campaign

for women’s political rights gained at least a partial victory when women over the age of

30 received the right to vote.

The leadership of the country at the turn of the century was still in the hands of men

from the upper and wealthier classes. Until 1911 the government paid no salaries to

members of the House of Commons, who therefore, in both political parties, were usu-

ally gentlemen with private incomes, possessing the same family background and edu-

cation. An attitude of sportsmanship and good feeling was characteristic of British

politics. The two parties alternated in power at regular intervals, each indulgent toward

the other, carrying over and developing rather than reversing the policies of its predeces-

sor in offi ce. Both parties sought support where they could fi nd it, the Liberals leaning

The extension of

suffrage

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601

somewhat more on the industrial and commercial interests and the Conservatives rely-

ing more on the landed aristocracy; both sought and succeeded in winning their share of

the new working-class vote.

The Liberals were usually the more willing to pioneer, the fi rst of

the four ministries of Gladstone being especially notable in this respect.

Gladstone in this fi rst ministry (1868–1874) developed the principle

of state-supported public education under the Forster Education Act of

1870, introduced the secret ballot, formally legalized labor unions, promoted competi-

tive examinations for civil service posts, reorganized the upper judiciary, eliminated the

purchase and sale of commissions in the army (a form of property in offi ce), and by abol-

ishing religious tests enabled persons who were not members of the Church of England

to graduate from Oxford and Cambridge. The Conservative Party, less sensitive to pres-

sure from business interests for a laissez-faire policy in economic matters, and continuing

the tradition of early Tory reformers, took the initiative in promoting new labor legis-

lation. Under Disraeli’s second ministry (1874–1880), the existing acts regulating pub-

lic sanitation and conditions in mines and factories were extended and codifi ed, safety

measures were enacted to protect sailors, and the fi rst attempt to regulate housing condi-

tions for the poorer classes was initiated. But the Liberals, it must be added, sought to

protect the workers’ interests too. In Gladstone’s second ministry (1880–1885), for exam-

ple, workers were assured of compensation for injuries not of their own responsibility, and

Gladstone later campaigned to reduce labor hours and to extend employers’ liability

in accidents.

British Political Changes after 1900

At the turn of the twentieth century, after the long era of Liberal and

Conservative ministries, important changes began to transform British

political culture. Labor emerged as an independent political force, the

Labour Party itself being organized shortly after 1900. The rise of labor had

a deep impact upon the Liberal Party and indeed upon liberalism itself. The new Labour

Party insisted that protective measures should be taken to counteract the poor health, low

income, and economic insecurity of British workers. Facing this pressure from a politi-

cized labor movement, the Liberals abandoned their traditional position of laissez-faire

and sponsored a policy of government intervention and social legislation on behalf of

working people. The Liberals, though they acted in part for humanitarian reasons, were

aware that with the emergence of the Labour Party workers who customarily had voted for

them might readily transfer their allegiance.

The Liberals, in control of the government from 1906 to 1916, with Herbert Asquith

as prime minister and David Lloyd George as chancellor of the exchequer during most

of this time, put through a spectacular program of social welfare. Sickness, accident, and

old-age insurance, and a degree of unemployment insurance were adopted, and a moderate

minimum wage law was enacted. Labor exchanges, or employment bureaus, were estab-

lished throughout the country. Restrictions on strikes and other trade union activities were

removed. To meet the costs of the new program as well as of other government expendi-

tures, Lloyd George’s budget of 1909 called for progressive income and

inheritance taxes: wealthier taxpayers would be taxed at progressively

higher rates. He was in effect advancing the then novel idea of using taxa-

tion to modify the social extremes of wealth and poverty. It was a “war

Liberals and

Conservatives

Rise of British labor

A war against

poverty

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Chapter 14 European Civilization, 1871–1914: Economy and Politics602

budget,” he said, intended “to wage war against poverty.” Its fi scal measures were directed

primarily at the landed aristocracy, and it aroused great opposition, especially in the House

of Lords, where the contest over the budget led to a further constitutional curtailment of

the power of the upper house. The Parliament Act of 1911 deprived the Lords of all veto

power in money matters and of all but a two-year delaying veto on action of the Commons

on other legislation. At this time, too, the government voted to pay salaries to members of

the House of Commons, making it possible for workers and others without independent

incomes to take seats in Parliament.

The Liberal Party was embracing a program of positive state interven-

tion in social and economic matters that the older liberalism, nurtured on

the doctrines of laissez-faire and the Manchester School, would not have

accepted. With the Liberals actively seeking the support of labor and altering much of

their traditional program, the Conservatives in the twentieth century tended to become the

party of industry as well as of landed wealth and to replace the Liberals as the champions

of economic liberalism and laissez-faire. In the next generation, after the First World War,

the Conservatives were to remain one of the two major parties of the country; the Liberals

were to be far outstripped by the Labour Party.

Meanwhile, despite its gains, labor was not pacifi ed. Real wages showed a tendency to

fall after 1900, and great coal and railway strikes broke out in 1911 and 1912. The British

capacity to survive crises without violence, while still conspicuous, was being strained. An

even more serious threat came from Ireland.

The Irish Question

Britain suffered from one of the most bitter minorities confl icts in Europe—what the

British called the Irish question. After 1801 Britain was known as the United Kingdom of

Great Britain and Ireland. The British government had incorporated Ireland into the United

Kingdom as a defensive measure against pro-French sympathies in Ireland during the wars

of the French Revolution, but the Irish representatives who thereafter sat in Parliament

were generally hostile to this incorporation and obstructionist in their tactics. The Irish

had many substantial grievances, among which two were conspicuous. The Irish peasants

were defenseless against their landlords, far more so, for example, than the French peas-

ants before 1789; and the Irish people, though predominantly Catholic, were obliged to

pay tithes to the established Church of Ireland (an Anglican sister church to the Church of

England), which also owned a good deal of the land.

Gladstone, in his fi rst ministry, disestablished the Church of Ireland. H e also initiated

measures to protect the Irish farm tenant. By 1900, under Conservative auspices, Irish

tenants were being assisted by the British government to buy out their landlords—often

English or Anglicized and absentee Irish landowners. The Irish also

wanted home rule, or a parliament of their own. Gladstone, in trying to

give it to them in 1886, split his Liberal Party, part of which went along

with the Conservatives in opposing a political division of the British Isles.

Home rule was fi nally granted to Ireland in 1914. But the Ulster Unionists, Protestants

whose ancestors had moved into northern Ireland (mostly from Scotland) during the sev-

enteenth century, objected vehemently to inclusion in an autonomous Ireland, in which

they would be outnumbered by the Catholics of the south. The latter, however, insisted

State intervention

Home rule

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603

with equal vehemence on the inclusion of Ulster, not wishing to see a political division

of Ireland.

The Ulster Unionists, backed by British Conservatives, started arming and drilling

to resist the act of Parliament that authorized home rule. Great Britain, in 1914, was

about to see a civil war on its own doorstep. It suffered from something like the insol-

uble nationalist disputes that affl icted Austria-Hungary. During the First World War

home rule was suspended. After considerable violence on both sides Catholic Ireland—

which for a time called itself Eire—received dominion status in 1922; but eventually

this Irish dominion dissolved all ties with Britain and became the Republic of Ireland.

SUNDAY AFTERNOON ON THE ISLAND OF LA GRANDE JATTE by Georges Seurat (French, 1859–1891)

This picture of sunny calm, painted in 1886, conveys the well-being that many prosperous Europeans enjoyed or imagined in the late nineteenth century. The people portrayed here seem to live in a peaceable world that is far removed from social confl icts and from a later age of speed and mechanical amusements. Technically, this is one of the most remarkable pictures ever painted. The artist created it without the use of lines by fi lling the canvas with thousands of minute dots of the primary colors, which blur and mix in the eye to produce the forms, hues, light, and shadows of nature. (The Art Institute of Chicago, IL, USA/The Bridgeman Art Library)

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Chapter 14 European Civilization, 1871–1914: Economy and Politics604

Northern Ireland remained in the United Kingdom and was dominated by Protestants, so

that its Catholic minority continued to be an alienated, discontented population within

the British state. The “Irish question” thus remained one of modern Britain’s unresolved

issues, generating bitter resentments and violent confl icts during all of the twentieth

century and beyond.

Bismarck and the German Empire, 1871–1890

The German Empire, as put together by Bismarck in 1871 with William I, king of Prussia,

as Kaiser, was a federation of monarchies, a union of 25 German states, in which the

weight of monarchical Prussia, the Prussian army, and the Prussian landed aristocracy

was preponderant. It developed neither the strong constitutionalism of England nor the

democratic equality that was characteristic of France. To win popular support for his proj-

ects, Bismarck exploited existing democratic and socialist sentiment and provided that

members of the Reichstag, the lower chamber, be elected by universal male suffrage.

Remaining chancellor of the united empire for almost 20 years, from 1871 to 1890, he

usually tried to have a majority in the Reichstag on his side, but he recognized no depen-

dence on a majority in principle, holding to the doctrine that it was the emperor and his

chancellor who were to govern the country. Moreover, in practice, the legislative powers

Real wages for British workers tended to fall in fi rst decade of the twentieth century, causing hardships for people such as these coal miners in Wales. Miners joined in strikes throughout Britain after 1910, contributing to economic and political crises that altered the older doctrines and policies of laissez-faire liberalism. (Hulton Archive/Getty Images)

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605

of the lower house were severely restricted, and the upper chamber, representing the

princes and not the people, and favored by the government, tended to be more important.

Despite the nature of the empire Bismarck’s unifi ed Germany at fi rst displeased the Prus-

sian conservatives, the East Elbian Junker landlords. They opposed his democratic

concessions and were left horrifi ed when in 1872 he undertook to abolish what was left of

their manorial jurisdiction over their peasants.

Bismarck in the 1870s therefore leaned not on the Conservatives but on the National

Liberals. With their aid he put through a number of economic and legal measures designed

to consolidate the unity of the new empire. Bismarck’s fi rst serious confl ict developed with

the Catholic Church. At the very time that he was bent on subordinating all

groups within the state to the sovereign power of the new empire, the church

had spoken out. In 1864 in the Syllabus of Errors, the pope denounced the encroachment of all governments on educational and church affairs; in 1870

the new dogma of papal infallibility made it incumbent on Catholics to accept unreserv-

edly the pope’s pronouncements in matters of faith and morals. To many, the implication

was that the new empire could not count on the undivided loyalty of its Catholic citizens.

To defend Catholic interests and those of the south German states where Catholicism pre-

dominated, Catholic elements had organized the strong Center Party, which now upheld

the church pronouncements. In 1871 Bismarck launched the Kulturkampf, or “battle for modern civilization.” The Liberals joined in eagerly. Like nineteenth-century liberals else-

where in Europe (Gladstone’s campaign against Anglican privilege and the French laic

laws have just been mentioned), they were strongly anticlerical and disapproved of the

infl uence of organized churches in public and private life. Laws were put through impos-

ing restrictions upon Catholic worship and education, the Jesuits were expelled, and many

Catholic bishops throughout Germany were arrested or went into exile. But Bismarck grad-

ually concluded that the anti-Catholic legislation was fruitless, that he had overestimated

the danger to the state of organized Catholicism, and that he needed the support of the

Center Party for other parts of his program. Meanwhile, the country’s rapid and spectacular

industrial expansion had stimulated the growth of the German working class, and to Bis-

marck’s alarm, socialism was spreading.

The Catholic Church

71. The Advance of Democracy: Third French Republic, United Kingdom, German Empire

CHRONOLOGY OF NOTABLE EVENTS, 1850–1914

1850–1940 About 60 million people migrate from Europe

1869 Opening of Suez Canal in Egypt facilitates global trade

1870s Western Europe and United States adopt the “gold standard” for global currency

exchanges

1871 The revolutionary Paris Commune is violently suppressed in France

1890 Kaiser William II dismisses Bismarck and begins to shape policies of the

German Empire

1894–1899 Dreyfus Affair bitterly divides republican and antirepublican factions in France

c. 1900 European population reaches its highest percentage of world population

1906–1916 Liberal government in Britain introduces broad program of social welfare

1914 Opening of Panama Canal facilitates European trade in the Americas

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Chapter 14 European Civilization, 1871–1914: Economy and Politics606

The German Social Democratic Party had been founded in 1875 by a fusion of Marx-

ian socialists and the reformist followers of Ferdinand Lassalle on an essentially moderate

program that Marx had denounced. But even a moderate socialism was mistrusted by

Bismarck. He shared in the European horror at the recent Paris Commune, he feared social-

ism as anarchy, and he knew that socialism was in any case inherently republican, which

made it a potentially revolutionary movement in an empire of monarchies. Two radical

attempts on the emperor’s life (in neither case by Social Democrats) provided him with all

the excuse he needed. In 1878, having already made peace with the Catholics, he set out to

eradicate socialism. Antisocialist laws from 1878 to 1890 prohibited social-

ist meetings and socialist newspapers. For 12 years socialism was driven

underground. But repression was not his only weapon; he turned also to

another tactic. Bismarck sought to persuade the workers to place their faith

in him and the German Empire rather than in the prophets of socialism. To

that end, in the 1880s, he initiated an extensive program of social legislation. Workers were

insured by the state against sickness, accident, and incapacity in old age. “Our democratic

friends,” said Bismarck, “will pipe in vain when the people see princes concerned with

their well-being.” In social insurance imperial Germany was, from whatever motives, years

ahead of more democratic England, France, and the United States.

Bismarck failed to kill socialism. The number of socialists elected to the Reichstag

was greater in 1890 than in 1878. It seems, however, that Bismarck by the later 1880s was

more apprehensive than ever of a social revolution that would destroy his empire; and he

contemplated new actions by which the Reichstag might be throttled. He never reached

this point, however, because in 1890, at the age of 75, he was obliged by the new emperor,

William II, to retire.

The German Empire after 1890: William II

William I died in 1888 and was succeeded by his son Frederick III, who had been married

for many years to the eldest daughter of Britain’s Queen Victoria. Incurably ill of cancer,

he died some three months after his accession. Frederick’s son, William II,

the last king of Prussia and the last German Kaiser, began his reign

(1888–1918) as a young man of 29, full of startling ideas about his personal

power and privileges, somewhat in contrast to his father. He was also

uncomfortable in the presence of an elder statesman who had made the German Empire,

who had been his grandfather’s aide and adviser, and whom he regarded partly with ven-

eration and partly as an old fogy. William soon quarreled with Bismarck over continuation

of the antisocialist laws and over matters of foreign affairs. When Bismarck forbade his

ministers to meet with the emperor on policy matters unless he was present, William

resolved that he, and not Bismarck, would rule the empire. In 1890 William ordered

Bismarck to resign, “dropping the pilot,” in the celebrated phrase. Under the four chancel-

lors who succeeded Bismarck, it was William who dominated policy.

After 1890 Germany embarked upon what was termed a “new course.”

In foreign affairs this meant a more aggressive and ambitious colonial,

naval, and diplomatic policy. In domestic affairs it meant a more conciliatory

attitude toward the laboring class. The antisocialist laws were dropped, and

the system of social security legislation was enlarged and codifi ed. But no expansion of

parliamentary democracy seemed possible. William II believed in the divinely ordained

prerogatives of the house of Hohenzollern, and the empire still rested on the power of the

Repression of

socialism

William II

A “new course”

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607

federated princes, the Junkers, the army, and the new industrial magnates. But the Social

Democrats, the Progressive Party, and other democratic forces were growing in strength.

They demanded, for Prussia, a reform of the illiberal constitution of 1850, and for the

Reich, real control over the federal chancellor by the majority party in the Reichstag. In the

election of 1912 the Social Democrats reached a new high by polling 4.25 million votes,

about one-third of the total, and by electing 110 members to the Reichstag, in which they

now formed the largest single party; yet they were excluded from the highest posts of gov-

ernment. The imperial German political system, which Bismarck had created and which

was now ruled by William II, was moving toward a constitutional crisis, but war came in

1914 and the political confl ict was deferred.

Developments Elsewhere; General Observations

Of political developments in other European states before 1914, something has already

been said in the preceding chapter. Italy had become a constitutional monarchy in the

1860s and completed its unifi cation by the forceful seizure of Rome in

1870. Despite parliamentary reforms, Italian political life was characterized

by unstable majorities and by opportunistic maneuvering and manipulation

by moderate liberal political leaders who maintained themselves in offi ce

for long periods of time by shuffl ing and reshuffl ing political coalitions.

The liberal leaders were anticlerical, and the quarrel with the papacy over the seizure of the

papal territories remained unsettled. The popes refused to recognize the Italian kingdom

and forbade Catholics to participate in its affairs or even to vote in elections. Catholics

voted nonetheless and in 1907 bishops in each diocese were permitted to relax the ban, as

they increasingly did.

Industry had begun to expand in northern cities such as Milan. More as a matter of

expediency than out of any democratic impulse, the government moved to extend the fran-

chise to the working classes. The narrow suffrage of 1861 was broadened, fi rst in 1882,

and then in 1912, when a new reform increased the number of eligible voters from 3 to 8

million, or virtually universal male suffrage. Because of illiteracy and political inertia not

all of the newly enfranchised Italians hastened to exercise their voting privilege. The social

problem remained serious, too, despite some modest labor legislation. Poverty and illiter-

acy, especially in the agrarian south, were widespread, and radical unrest appeared in the

industrial cities. The fi rst manifestations of an antiparliamentary ideology, chauvinistic

nationalism, and explosive irrationalism appeared in the writings and political activism of

literary men such as Gabriele d’Annunzio and Filippo Marinetti. The latter published in

1909 the manifesto of a radical new movement he called “Futurism,” which vehemently

condemned all artistic traditions, celebrated the speed of modern technologies, and por-

trayed human violence as a kind of creative action. Such ideas would soon spread into

politics, bringing a new irrationalism to Italian political culture. Meanwhile the machinery

of political democracy was gradually established in Italy, but there could be no assurance

about the evolution of a stable Italian parliamentary democracy.

In the Dual Monarchy of Austria-Hungary, created by the political com-

promise of 1867, Austria and Hungary were each in form constitutional par-

liamentary states. In theory, the Emperor-King Francis Joseph ruled through

ministries responsible to the legislature in each state. However, in the important sphere of

matters affecting the empire as a whole, such as foreign affairs and military questions, there

was little parliamentary restraint on the emperor. Here he had virtually fi nal authority;

Political scene in

Italy

Austria-Hungary

71. The Advance of Democracy: Third French Republic, United Kingdom, German Empire

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Chapter 14 European Civilization, 1871–1914: Economy and Politics608

moreover, in all matters he still had broad powers to govern by decree, which he exercised.

As in Germany, the tide of socialism was held back both by repressive laws and by social

insurance and benevolent legislation. The most serious problem in the empire remained the

nationalist agitation by the various subject nationalities that were seeking more autonomy

or their own sovereign states. This political agitation helped to deepen the new national self-

consciousness among the Czechs and other Slavic peoples. Political democracy took a dif-

ferent course in Austria than in Hungary. In the former, partly as an effort to placate

nationalist sentiment, universal male suffrage was introduced in 1907. In the latter the

expansion of voting rights was bitterly and successfully resisted by the Magyars, who saw

suffrage as a weapon that could be employed by the Slavs to contest and destroy the Magyar

preponderance. Austria itself, despite the democratic suffrage, was ruled very much like the

German Empire, with the legislature able to debate and criticize but not control policy.

Of other countries it can be said that the political forms of democracy

showed signs of advancing everywhere, though women were still generally

excluded from voting and from all public offi ces. Universal male suffrage

was adopted in Switzerland in 1874, in Belgium in 1893, in the Netherlands

in 1896, and in the next few years in Norway and Sweden (Norway was peacefully sepa-

rated in 1905 from Sweden). In southern Europe, besides Italy, universal male suffrage was

Democratic advances

Kaiser William II’s decision to remove Bismarck from his powerful position in Germany’s government was widely described as “dropping the pilot” of the German Empire. This theme was conveyed by the British cartoonist John Tenniel, who portrayed William expel- ling Bismarck from the ship of state in this famous illustration for the British magazine Punch. (Spencer Arnold/Getty Images)

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609

introduced in Spain, Greece, Bulgaria, Serbia, and, after the revolt of 1908, in Ottoman

Turkey. Even tsarist Russia, after the Revolution of 1905, received a Duma, or national

parliament, elected on a wide franchise but on an indirect and undemocratic class basis and

with narrow powers. Among states west of the Russian Empire, only Hungary and Romania

had a highly restricted suffrage on the eve of the First World War. The vote for women pro-

gressed more slowly. Women voted before 1914 only in certain western states of the United

States, in Australia, New Zealand, Finland, and Norway. Not until after the First World War

did female suffrage begin to make signifi cant advances, and women did not gain the right to

vote in France and Italy until after the Second World War.

The progress of representative and democratic institutions did not mean an end

to the rule of monarchs, landed aristocrats, and other minority interests. For one thing,

with the exception of France and Switzerland, Europe remained monarchical. Second,

despite the growing importance of parliaments, parliamentary control over political life

was far from guaranteed; emperors and kings still ruled through their chancellors and

prime ministers. Of the major world powers it was mainly in the United

States (at least for white males), Britain, and France that democratic and

popular control was something of a reality. But the extension of the suf-

frage, by the relaxation of property qualifi cations, had a dynamic of its

own and was altering the framework of politics everywhere; mass political

parties, including socialist parties and confessional, or religious-oriented, parties were

replacing the older narrow oligarchic political organizations, and support now had to

be sought on a wider electoral basis. In almost all Europe, and in many of the outlying

areas peopled by European descendants and immigrants, democracy was advancing, even

within the older framework. By 1871, most European nations, with the notable exception

of Russia, had written constitutions, guarantees of personal freedom, parliamentary and

representative institutions, and limitations on absolutism; in the years between 1871 and

1914 the most signifi cant new political development was the advance of male suffrage

and the accompanying rise of new, mass-based political parties.

The growing populations and economies of European nations thus created a social sta-

bility in which political institutions gradually became more democratic and more respon-

sive to public opinion. Wealth and resources fl owed into Europe from all parts of the

world, so that the middle classes and even workers had more comforts and material goods

than ever before—and more opportunities to participate in the political institutions of their

various nations. Europe’s dominant role in the global economy, the massive migration of

European people, and the military power of European nation-states gave European civili-

zation its extraordinary world infl uence in the decades after 1870.

During these same years, however, the growing power of industrial corporations and

capitalist fi nancial institutions as well as the traditional power of older European social

hierarchies and cultural attitudes also provoked opposition, which appeared in popular

political movements, as in socialism, and in criticisms of European imperialism. The

critics eventually infl uenced many people outside Europe, gaining a following wherever

European economic and cultural institutions had appeared. European critiques of Western

capitalism, traditions, and ideas therefore became another aspect of Europe’s global infl u-

ence at the end of the nineteenth century.

Expansion of the

suffrage

For suggested further readings and useful Web sites, interactive exercises, glossary, chronologies,

and more, go to the Online Learning Center at www.mhhe.com/palmerhistory11e.

71. The Advance of Democracy: Third French Republic, United Kingdom, German Empire

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611

C h a p t e r 15 EUROPEAN CIVILIZATION,

1871–1914:

SOCIETY AND CULTURE

The belief in progress   has been at the center of modern thought since the Scientifi c Revolution of

the seventeenth century. Although some romantic

poets, conservatives, and socialists questioned the

consequences of modern technologies and industry,

most people in the nineteenth century assumed that

progress was both inevitable and benefi cial. Lib-

erals were especially optimistic about progressive

developments in all the main spheres of modern

life: scientifi c knowledge, technological inventions,

economic expansion, constitutional government,

and protection for fundamental human rights. But

the liberals were by no means alone in seeing the late nineteenth-century European ascen-

dancy as the historical confi rmation of human progress.

There were also many Europeans, however, who protested that whole groups of

human beings were still denied the benefi ts of modern civilization, that workers were not

receiving their rightful share of modern wealth, or that women were not entering their

rightful place in modern political life. New political movements in these decades therefore

sought to expand the economic and legal rights of workers and women, claiming that such

reforms would advance the broader cause of social progress; and in fact the new political

movements were often able to gain new rights or benefi ts for the groups they represented.

Meanwhile, science itself continued to produce advances in both the theoretical

understanding of nature and the technological inventions that were transforming modern

societies. Yet it was also at this time that various thinkers began to question the certitudes

of scientifi c knowledge and to stress the limits of human reason, thus challenging many of

the cultural assumptions that sustained the popular belief in human progress. These new

trends in European intellectual life before 1914 began to erode some of the confi dence in

the progressive evolution of human history (at least among certain philosophers or artists)

and to undermine the optimism of classical liberalism. The idea of progress remained a

powerful theme in all modern cultures, but by the early twentieth century the limits and

72. The Advance

of Democracy:

Socialism, Labor Unions,

and Feminism

73. Science, Philosophy,

the Arts, and Religion

74. The Waning of Classical

Liberalism

Chapter emblem: Albert Einstein as he appeared after he had published scientifi c papers on the theory of relativity

in 1905 and 1916. (General Photographic Agency/Getty Images)

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Chapter 15 European Civilization, 1871–1914: Society and Culture612

consequences of progress were also becoming subjects for historical refl ection, artistic

representation, and cultural debate.

72. THE ADVANCE OF DEMOCRACY: SOCIALISM, LABOR UNIONS, AND FEMINISM

The artisan and laboring classes had always been suspicious of “bourgeois” liberalism’s

optimistic view of free competition, unrestrained private enterprise, the Manchester

School, laissez-faire, the laws of supply and demand, the free market for goods and labor,

and the idea of an economy independent of states and governments. These

were the ideas of middle-class liberals, not of radical democrats. Popular

leaders had opposed them in the French Revolution in 1793. The English

Chartists had been outspokenly anticapitalistic, and on the Continent the

ideas of socialism had been spreading. In 1848 there was a strong move-

ment among the working classes for a “social” republic, and, though the social revolution

failed in 1848, the force of it was enough to terrify the possessing classes. With the advent

of the ballot, workers pressed for social legislation and used their political power to gain a

greater measure of social democracy.

But in addition, before and after obtaining the ballot, working people resorted to other

devices for the improvement of their position. Against the owners of capital, who con-

trolled the giving of jobs, workers advocated two principal lines of action. Some believed

they could abolish the capitalist economic system; others believed they should bargain

with their capitalist employers. The former view led to radical forms of socialism; the lat-

ter, to the formation of labor unions. Socialism, in logic, meant the extinction of the private

employer as such, or at least to the dissolution of the larger capitalist corporations. Trade

unionism, in logic, meant that the workers had every reason to keep their employers pros-

pering in business in order that bargaining with them might produce better economic

results. The working-class movement thus contained an internal contradiction that was

never completely resolved in the nineteenth century and that would become even more

divisive after the Russian Revolution in the early twentieth century.

Middle-class and educated people who took up the workers’ cause,

the “intellectuals” of the movement—Karl Marx, Friedrich Engels, Louis

Blanc, Ferdinand Lassalle, and thousands of less famous names—tended

more to socialism than to unionism. They thought of society as a whole, they

saw the economy as a complex social system, and they thought of the future

in long-run terms that allowed generously for whole historical epochs to come and go.

Most actual workers, put to work at an early age, barely educated if at all, with the wak-

ing hours of their adult lives spent on manual jobs, were inclined to keep their attention

more on unionism than on socialism. To earn a shilling more every week beginning next

week, to be spared the nervous strain and physical danger of constant exposure to unpro-

tected machinery, to have 15 minutes more every day for lunch, were likely to seem more

tangible and important than far-reaching but distant plans for a reconstructed society. The

worker looked on the intellectual as an outsider, however welcome; the intellectual looked

on the worker as shortsighted and timid, however much in need of help.

After the failures of 1848 the socialist and trade union movements diverged for a gen-

eration. The 1850s, compared with the hungry ‘40s, were a time of full employment, rising

wages, and increasing prosperity for all classes. Workers set to organizing unions, socialist

thinkers to perfecting their doctrines.

Opponents of

liberalism

Workers and

intellectuals

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61372. The Advance of Democracy: Socialism, Labor Unions, and Feminism

The Trade Union Movement and Rise of British Labor

Organizations of wage workers, or labor unions in the modern sense (as distinguished from

medieval craft guilds), had long maintained a shadowy and sporadic existence. But they

had always been extralegal, frowned upon or actually prohibited by governments. French

revolutionaries in the Le Chapelier Act of 1791 and British Tories in the Combination Act

of 1799 had been as one in forbidding workers to unite. It was the rise of bourgeois

liberalism, so insensitive to the worker in most ways, that fi rst gave legal freedom to labor

unions. The British unions received a tacit recognition from the Liberal Tories in 1825 and

explicit recognition from Gladstone’s Liberal ministry in 1871. French unions were recog-

nized by Napoleon III in 1864, then restrained in the reaction caused by the Commune,

then fully legalized in 1884. In Germany Bismarck negotiated with labor leaders to fi nd

support against the vested interests that stood in his way.

The prosperity of the 1850s favored the formation of unions, for workers could

always organize most easily when employers were most in need of their services. The craft

union—or union of skilled workers in the same trade, such as carpenters—was at fi rst the

typical organization. It was most fully developed in England, where a “new model” union-

ism was introduced by the Amalgamated Society of Engineers (i.e., machinists) in 1851.

It was the policy of the new model union offi cials to take the unions out

of politics, to forget the semisocialism of the Chartists, to abandon Robert

Owen’s grandiose idea of “one big union” for all workers, and to concen-

trate on advancing the interests of each separate trade. The new leaders

proposed to be reasonable with employers, avoid strikes, accumulate union

funds, and build up their membership. This strategy was successful. The unions took root,

and the two governing parties in England, reassured by the unexpected moderation of

working-class representatives, combined to give the town worker the vote in 1867.

In the 1880s, and especially with the great London dock strike of 1889, which closed

the port of London for the fi rst time since the French Revolution, unions of unskilled work-

ers began to form. Industrial unionism, or the joining in one union of all workers in one

industry, such as coal or transportation, regardless of the skill or job of the individual

worker, began to take shape at the same time. In some cases the older skilled unionists

joined with unskilled laborers who worked beside them. By 1900 there were about

2,000,000 union members in Great Britain, compared with only 850,000 in Germany and

250,000 in France.

It was largely because British workers were so far advanced in trade unionism, and

so successful in forcing collective bargaining upon their employers, that they were much

slower than their Continental counterparts in forming a workers’ political party. By the

1880s, when avowed socialists were already sitting in French, Belgian, and German parlia-

ments, the only corresponding persons in Britain were a half-dozen “Lib-Labs,” as they

were called, laboring men elected on the Liberal ticket. The British Labour

Party was formed at the turn of the century by the joint efforts of trade

union offi cials and middle-class intellectuals. Where on the Continent the

labor unions were often led, and even brought into being, by the socialist

political parties, in Britain it was the labor unions that brought into being,

and subsequently led, the Labour Party. The infl uence of British labor unions made the

Labour Party less socialistic than working-class parties on the Continent. Its origin and

rapid growth were due in large measure to a desire to defend the unions as established and

respectable institutions.

“New model”

unionism

The British Labour

Party

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Chapter 15 European Civilization, 1871–1914: Society and Culture614

The unions were threatened in their very existence by a ruling of the

British courts in 1901, the Taff Vale decision, which held a union fi nancially

responsible for business losses incurred by an employer during a strike.

The shortest and most orderly strike, by exhausting a union’s funds, might

ruin the union. Opposition to the Taff Vale decision unifi ed the unions and all other exist-

ing labor and socialist organizations and precipitated the formation of the modern Labour

Party. In the election of 1906 the new Labour Party sent 29 members to Parliament, which

thereupon overruled the Taff Vale decision by new legislation. The social legislation put

through Parliament by the Liberal Party government in the next few years, in good part

under pressure from labor, was described in the last chapter.

European Socialism after 1850

As for socialism, which had so frightened the middle and upper classes in 1848, it seemed

in the 1850s to go into abeyance. Karl Marx, after issuing the Communist Manifesto with Engels in 1848, and agitating as a journalist in the German revolution of that year, with-

drew to the secure haven offered by England, where, after years of painstaking research, he

published the fi rst volume of his Capital in 1867. This work, of which the succeeding two volumes were published after his death, gave body, substance, and argument to the princi-

ples announced earlier in the Communist Manifesto. Marx lived for more than 30 years in London, but he scarcely mixed with the labor leaders then building up the English unions.

A steady rise in the member- ship of labor unions trans- formed political life in all industrialized societies. This illustration of British miners voting to strike was published in an Italian newspaper, but it depicts the kind of worker activism that became common in most European nations and in other parts of the modern world by the early twentieth century. (Domenica del Corriere/Collection

Dagli Orti/The Art Archive at Art

Resource, NY)

The Taff Vale

decision

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615

He associated mainly with political exiles and temporary visitors of numerous nationali-

ties, and the fi rst volume of Capital was not even published in English until 1886. In 1864 there took place in London the fi rst meeting of the Interna-

tional Working Men’s Association, commonly known as the First Inter-

national. It was sponsored by a heterogeneous group, including the

secretary of the British carpenters’ union, Robert Applegarth; the aging

Italian revolutionary, Mazzini; and Karl Marx. With the union offi cials

absorbed in union business, leadership in the Association gradually passed to Marx, who

used it as a means of publicizing the ideas about to appear in his Capital. At subsequent annual congresses, at Geneva, Lausanne, Brussels, and Basel, Marx built up his position.

He made the Mazzinians unwelcome, and he denounced the German Lassalleans for

their willingness to cooperate with Bismarck, arguing that it was not the business of

socialists to cooperate with the state but to seize it. His sharpest struggle was with the

Russian Bakunin. Drawing on his experience in tsarist Russia, Bakunin viewed the state

as the cause of the worker’s affl ictions; he was hence an “anarchist,” holding that

the state should be attacked and abolished. To Marx anarchism was abhorrent; the cor-

rect doctrine, in Marx’s view, was that the state—tsarist or bourgeois—was a product of

economic conditions and a weapon of the propertied interests, so that the true target for

revolutionary action must be not the state but the capitalist economic system. Marx

drove Bakunin from the First International in 1872.

Meanwhile members of the First International watched with great

excitement as the Paris Commune emerged in 1871. They hoped that the

new revolutionary events in Paris might be the opening act of a European

working-class upheaval. Members of the International infi ltrated the Commune, and the

connection between the two, though rather incidental, was one reason why the French

Provisional Government repressed the Commune with such terrifi ed ferocity. But the

Commune actually destroyed the First International. The Commune had been bloody

and violent, an armed rebellion against the democratically elected National Assembly of

France. Marx praised it as a stage in the international class war. He even saw in it a fore-

taste of what he was coming to call the “dictatorship of the proletariat.” He thus frightened

away many possible followers. Certainly British trade unionists, sober and steady individ-

uals, would have nothing to do with such doings or such doctrines. The First International

faded out of existence after 1872.

But in 1875, at a German workers’ conference in Gotha, Marxian and Lassallean

socialists united to found the German Social Democratic Party, whose remarkable growth

thereafter, against Bismarck’s attempts to stop it, has already been noted. About 1880

socialist parties sprouted in many European countries. In Belgium, highly industrialized, a

Belgian Socialist Party appeared in 1879. In the industrial regions of France some workers

were attracted to Jules Guesde, a self-taught worker, former Communard, and now a rigid

Marxist, who held it impossible to emancipate the working class by compromise of any

sort; others followed Paul Brousse, who thought workers could arrive at socialism through

parliamentary methods; still others supported Jean Jaurès, who eloquently linked social

reform to the French revolutionary tradition and the defense of republican institutions. Not

until 1905 did the socialist groups in France form a unifi ed Socialist Party. In England,

in 1881, H. M. Hyndman founded a Social Democratic Federation on the German model

and with a Marxist program; it never had more than a handful of members. In 1883 two

Russian exiles in Switzerland, Plekhanov and Axelrod, recent converts to Marxism,

founded the Russian Social Democratic Party, from which the Russian communism of the

The First

International

The Paris Commune

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Chapter 15 European Civilization, 1871–1914: Society and Culture616

following century would later evolve. The socialist parties all came together

to establish an international league in 1889, known as the Second Interna-

tional, which thereafter met every three years and lasted until 1914.

Revisionist and Revolutionary Socialism, 1880–1914

Marx died in 1883, but the new socialist parties of the 1880s were all Marxist in inspira-

tion. Marxism or “scientifi c socialism,” by the force of its social analysis, the mass of

Marx’s writings over 40 years, and an attitude of unyielding hostility to competing social-

ist doctrines, had gradually become the most infl uential form of systematic socialism.

Strongest in Germany and France, Marxism was relatively less successful in Italy and

Spain, where the working class was less concentrated in large factories, generally less edu-

cated, and still unable to place its hopes in the ballot. Workers in southern Europe were

more habituated to insurrectionism in the manner of Garibaldi and they turned more fre-

quently to the anarchism preached by Bakunin.

Marxism also attracted relatively little support from labor groups in England. The

workers stood by their trade unions, and middle-class critics of capitalism followed the

Fabian Society, established in 1883. The Fabians (so called from the ancient Roman gen-

eral Fabius Cunctator, the “delayer,” or strategist of gradual methods) were very English

and very un-Marxist. George Bernard Shaw, H. G. Wells, and Sidney and

Beatrice Webb were among early members of the Society. For them social-

ism was the social and economic counterpart to political democracy, as

well as its inevitable outcome. They held that no class confl ict was neces-

sary or even existed; and they believed that gradual and reasonable and

conciliatory measures would in due time bring about a socialist state. Rejecting the idea

that revolutionary violence would be needed to change the economic system, the Fabians

argued that improvement of local government, or municipal ownership of such things as

waterworks and electric lighting, were practical steps toward a more just society. The

Fabians, like the trade union offi cials, were thus content with small and immediate satis-

factions. They joined with the unions to form the Labour Party. A t the same time, by

patient and detailed research into economic realities, they provided a mass of practical

information on which a legislative program could be based.

The Marxist or Social Democratic parties on the Continent grew rap-

idly in the decades after 1870. Marxism turned into a less revolutionary

“parliamentary socialism”—except indeed for the Russian Social Demo-

cratic Party, because Russia had no parliamentary government. The growth

of socialist parties meant that true workers, and not merely intellectuals,

were voting for socialist candidates for the Reichstag, Chamber of Deputies, or whatever

the lower house of parliament might be called; and this in turn meant that the moderat-

ing infl uence of labor unions within the parties was increased. The workers and their

union offi cials might in theory consider themselves locked in an enormous struggle with

capital; but in practice their aim was to gain more for themselves out of their employers’

business. They might believe in the internationalism of the workers’ interests; but in prac-

tice, acting through the parliaments of their various national states, they would work for

orderly legislation that benefi ted the workers of their own countries—social insurance,

factory regulation, minimum wages, or maximum hours.

By the close of the nineteenth century it was becoming apparent that Marx’s prediction

of growing worker impoverishment (based initially on conditions of the 1840s) had not come

true, at least not yet; the bourgeoisie was getting richer, but the proletarian was not getting

poorer. Real wages—or what the wage earner’s income would actually buy, even allowing for

Fabian socialism in

England

Parliamentary

socialism on the

Continent

The Second

International

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617

the losses due to unemployment—are estimated to have risen about 50 percent in the industri-

alized countries between 1870 and 1900. This increase was due to the greater productivity of

labor through mechanization, the growth of the world economy, the accumulation of capital

wealth, and the gradual fall in prices of food and other items that the workers had to buy.

Marxism began in the 1890s to undergo a movement of revisionism that responded to a

changing social environment. Workers could now gain somewhat better wages and also

vote for new political parties that gave them more public infl uence. The revi-

sionists were led in France by Jean Jaurès, Socialist leader in the Chamber of

Deputies, and in Germany by Eduard Bernstein, Social Democratic member

of the Reichstag and author in 1898 of Evolutionary Socialism, an important tract setting forth the new views. The revisionists held that the class confl ict might not be

absolutely inevitable, that capitalism might be gradually transformed in the workers’ inter-

est, and that now that the workers had not only the vote but also a political party of their

own, they could obtain their ends through democratic channels, without revolution and

without any dictatorship of the proletariat. Most socialists or social democrats followed the

revisionists. Repeatedly, but in vain, the Second International had to warn its component

socialist parties against collaboration with the bourgeoisie.

This tendency to “opportunism” among Marxists drove the really revo-

lutionary spirits into new directions. Thus there arose revolutionary syndical-

ism, of which the main intellectual exponent was a Frenchman, Georges

Sorel. “Syndicalism” is simply the French word for trade unionism ( syndicat, a union), and the idea was that the workers’ unions might themselves become the supreme

authoritative institutions in society, replacing not only property and the market economy, but

also government itself. The means to this end was to be a vast general strike, in which all

workers in all industries would simultaneously stop work, thus paralyzing society and forc-

ing acceptance of their will. Syndicalism made most headway where the unions were weak-

est, as in Italy, Spain, and France, because here the unions had the least to lose and were

most in need of sensational doctrines to attract members. Its strongest base was in the French

General Confederation of Labor, founded in 1895.

Among orthodox Marxists there was also a revival of Marxist funda-

mentals in protest against revisionism. In Germany Karl Kautsky criticized

the revisionists as compromisers who betrayed Marxism for petty-bourgeois

ends. In 1904 he and other rigorists prevailed upon the Second International

to condemn the political behavior of the French socialist Alexandre Mille-

rand, who in 1899 had accepted a ministerial post in a French cabinet. Socialists might use

parliaments as a forum, the Second International ruled, but socialists who entered the gov-

ernment itself were unpardonably identifying themselves with the enemy bourgeois state.

Not until the First World War did socialists henceforth join the cabinet of any European

country. In the Russian Social Democratic Party the issue of revisionism came to a head in

1903 at a party congress held in London—for the most prominent Russian Marxists were

mainly exiles. Here a group led by the committed revolutionist V. I. Lenin demanded that

revisionism be stamped out. Lenin won a majority, at the moment at least, and hence the

uncompromising Marxists were called Bolsheviks (from the Russian word for majority),

while the revisionist Russian Marxists, those willing to work with bourgeois liberals and

democrats, were subsequently known as Mensheviks or the “minority” group. But in 1903

most European socialists viewed the Russian Marxists as marginal to their own national

campaigns for social reform.

In general, in Europe’s inner zone, by the turn of the century, most

people who called themselves Marxists were no longer actively revolu-

tionary. As revolutionary republicanism had quieted down in the Third

The revisionists

Syndicalism

Orthodoxy vs.

revisionism

Marxism transformed

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Chapter 15 European Civilization, 1871–1914: Society and Culture618

French Republic, revolutionary Marxism also seemed to have quieted down into the milder

doctrines of social democracy. What would have happened except for the coming of war

in 1914 cannot be known; possibly social revolutionism would have revived, because real

wages no longer generally rose between 1900 and 1914, and considerable restlessness

developed in labor circles, punctuated by great strikes. But in 1914 the working class as a

whole was not in a revolutionary mood. Workers still sought a greater measure of social

justice, but the social agitation so feared or hoped for in 1848 had subsided. There seem to

have been three principal reasons for the decline in revolutionary agitation. Capitalism had

worked well enough to raise the workers’ living standard above what they could remember

of their parents’ or grandparents’ economic situation; workers had gained the right to vote,

so they expected to benefi t from new public policies rather than from the overthrow of

their governments; and they had created political parties and increasingly powerful labor

unions, all of which protected their interests and helped them acquire a larger share of the

national income.

Feminism, 1880–1914

The campaign for women’s rights also became more international and better organized

during the same decades that the new workers’ parties were spreading across Europe.

Women received less pay than men for the work they performed in the new industrial

economy, and in most places they still faced numerous restrictions on their rights to own

property, participate in political meetings, vote in elections, and attend universities. The

movement for women’s rights therefore continued to promote the kind of reforms that

feminists had been advocating since the early nineteenth century, including more access to

education and the right to vote. Women’s groups on the Continent tended to emphasize

legal and social reforms rather than voting rights, whereas British and American feminists

gave more attention to the campaign for women’s suffrage. But activists in all industrial-

ized societies were increasingly drawn to national and international organizations, in part

because such groups created useful networks for spreading information and political ideas.

American women such as Susan B. Anthony and Elizabeth Cady Stanton joined with

European feminists to establish an International Council of Women in 1888, and the grow-

ing demand for women’s rights crossed the borders of all modern nations.

Although some feminists worked to make birth control available to more women or

to improve the conditions of women workers, the quest for voting rights

attracted the most public attention, especially in the United States and

Britain. New organizations such as the National American Woman Suf-

frage Association and, in Britain, the Women’s Social and Political Union

sponsored petitions, mass meetings, and protests that demanded equal vot-

ing rights in both local and national elections. The suffrage movement in Britain became

especially militant after the British Parliament rejected every legislative proposal to grant

women the vote—a pattern of offi cial opposition that had become a recurring theme in

British politics since the 1860s. Frustrated by the stubborn resistance of male politicians,

the energetic leader of the Women’s Social and Political Union, Emmeline Pankhurst, led a

radical wing of the suffrage movement in a campaign of violent protests in the years before

1914. Pankhurst’s supporters and allies disrupted sessions of Parliament, broke store win-

dows, destroyed mailboxes, and damaged government buildings to protest the exclusion of

women from British elections and political institutions. When arrested, the “suffragettes”

went on hunger strikes, to which the police responded by painful forcible feedings.

Suffragettes seek

the vote

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619

The campaign for women’s voting rights became increas- ingly militant as early twentieth-century leaders such as Emmeline Pankhurst urged activists to take direct action against government institutions and facilities. This pho- tograph of Pankhurst was taken shortly before the First World War—a transformative event that would reshape the social roles of British women and lead fi nally to the enactment of female suffrage in 1918. (Library of Congress [LC-DIG-ggbain-12112])

The British campaign for women’s voting rights often mobilized women for marches in the streets, public demonstrations, and confrontations with government offi cials. The protestors at this march in 1913 were following a woman who had been arrested at an earlier suffragist demonstration, and the presence of the police is an example of the close government surveil- lance that was part of every such event. (Hulton Archive/Getty Images)

72. The Advance of Democracy: Socialism, Labor Unions, and Feminism

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Chapter 15 European Civilization, 1871–1914: Society and Culture620

Pankhurst and other suffragettes were widely ridiculed in the British press and Parlia-

ment, but their campaign attracted growing support during the First World War (when the

militant protests were suspended), and, as noted earlier, British women over the age of 30

fi nally received the right to vote in 1918. The law was changed again in 1928, when the

voting age for British women was lowered to 21. Meanwhile, women had also gained the

right to vote in Germany, the United States, and other Western nations in the early years

of this postwar era. The campaign for voting rights was only one component of modern

feminism, however; and the movement to enhance women’s rights in the economy, legal

system, family, and education would develop new themes and new political strategies

throughout the twentieth century.

73. SCIENCE, PHILOSOPHY, THE ARTS, AND RELIGION

Faith in the powers of natural science has been characteristic of modern European society

for over three centuries, but never was there a time when this faith spread to so many people

or was held so fi rmly and with so few mental reservations as in the half-century preceding

the First World War. Science lay at the bottom of the whole movement of industrialization;

and if science gained wide popularity after about 1870, in that persons ignorant of science

came to look upon it as an oracle of wisdom, it was because it manifested itself to every-

body in the new wonders of daily life. Hardly had the world’s more industrialized regions

digested the railroad, the steamship, and the telegraph when a whole series of new inven-

tions began to appear during the era of the second Industrial Revolution. In the 30 years

following 1875 the number of patents tripled in the United States, quadrupled in Germany,

and multiplied in all modern countries. The scientifi c and technical advance was as com-

pletely international (though confi ned mainly to the “inner zone”) as any movement the

world has ever seen. Never had the rush of scientifi c invention been so fundamentally use-

ful, so helpful to the constructive labors and serious problems of mankind.

In more basic scientifi c thinking important changes set in about 1860

or 1870. Up to that time, generally speaking, the underlying ideas had been

those set forth by Isaac Newton almost two centuries before. The law of

universal gravitation reigned unquestioned, and with it, hardly less so, the

geometry of Euclid and a physics that was basically mechanics. The ulti-

mate nature of the universe was thought to be regular, orderly, predictable, and harmoni-

ous; it was also described as timeless, in that the passage of ages in the natural world

brought no signifi cant change or development. By the end of the epoch considered here,

that is, by 1914, the old conceptions had begun to yield on every side.

The Impact of Evolution

In impact upon general thinking the greatest change came in the new

emphasis upon biology and the life sciences. Here the great symbolic date

is the publication by Charles Darwin of the Origin of Species in 1859. Evo- lution, after Darwin (1809–1882), became the most infl uential intellectual

theme of the era. Evolutionary philosophies, holding that the way to understand anything

was to understand its development, were not new in 1859. Hegel had introduced the evo-

lutionary conception into metaphysics; and he and Marx, into historical theories of human

society. The idea of progress, taken over from the Age of Enlightenment, was also a kind

Changing conceptions

in science

Charles Darwin

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62173. Science, Philosophy, the Arts, and Religion

of evolutionary philosophy; and the great activity in historical studies, under romantic

and nationalist auspices, had made people think of human affairs in terms of a process

that unfolded over time. In the world of natural science, the rise of geology after 1800

had opened the way to evolutionary ideas about the surface of the earth, and venturesome

biologists had begun to speculate on an evolutionary development of living forms. What

Darwin did was to stamp evolution with the seal of science, marshaling the evidence for it

and offering an explanation of how it worked. In 1871, in The Descent of Man, he applied the same hypotheses to human beings.

By evolution, Darwin meant that species are mutable; that no species is created to

remain unchanged once and for all; and that all species of living organisms, plant and ani-

mal, microscopic or elephantine in dimensions, living or extinct, have developed by suc-

cessive small changes from other species that went before them. An important corollary

was that all life was interrelated and subject to the same laws. Another corollary was that

the whole history of living things on earth, generally held by scientists in Darwin’s time to

be many millions of years, was a unifi ed history unfolding continuously in a single com-

plex process of evolution.

Darwin thought that species changed, not by any intelligent design or by a purpose-

ful activity in the organism, but essentially by a kind of chance. Individual organisms,

through the play of heredity, inherited slightly different characteristics, some more useful

than others in food getting, fi ghting, or mating; and the organisms that had the most useful

characteristics tended to survive, so that their characteristics were passed

on to offspring, until the whole species gradually changed. Certain phrases,

not all of them invented by Darwin, summed up the theory. There was a

“struggle for existence” resulting in the “survival of the fi ttest” through

“Survival of the

fi ttest”

Charles Darwin’s Origin of Species (1859) set forth scientifi c arguments for the bio- logical evolution of living organisms and provoked cultural debates far beyond the academic sphere of natural scien- tists. Darwin is portrayed here as an age- ing, somewhat detached scientifi c expert whose grandfatherly appearance scarcely suggests the intellectual revolution that he launched through his research and writings. (Library of Congress [LC-USZ61-104])

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Chapter 15 European Civilization, 1871–1914: Society and Culture622

“natural selection” of the “most favored races”—races meaning not human races but the

strains within a species. The struggle for existence referred to the fact that in nature more

individuals were born in each species than could live out a normal life span; the “fi ttest”

were those individual specimens of a species having the most useful characteristics, such

as fl eetness in deer or ferocity in tigers; “natural” selection meant that the fi ttest survived

without purpose in themselves or in a Creator; the “favored races” were the strains within a

species having good survival powers in a complex natural environment.

Darwin’s ideas precipitated a great outcry. Scientists rushed to defend and churchmen

to attack him. The biologist T. H. Huxley became the chief spokesman for Darwin—

“Darwin’s bulldog.” He debated with, among others, the bishop of Oxford. Darwin was

denounced, with less than fairness, for saying that human beings came from monkeys. It

was feared that all grounds of human dignity, morality, and religion would collapse.

Darwin himself remained complacent on this score. Under civilized conditions, he said,

the social and cooperative virtues were useful characteristics assisting in survival, so that

“we may expect that virtuous habits will grow stronger, becoming perhaps fi xed by inheri-

tance.” Much of the outburst against Darwin was somewhat trivial, nor were those who

attacked him generally noted for spiritual insight; yet they were not mistaken in sensing a

profound danger.

That Darwinism said nothing of God, Providence, creative (or intelligent) design, or

salvation was not surprising; no science ever did. That evolution did not square with the

fi rst chapter of Genesis was disturbing but not fatal; much of the Old Testament was

already regarded as symbolic, at least outside fundamentalist religious circles. Even the

idea that humans and animals were of one piece was not ruinous; the animal side of human

nature had not escaped the notice of theologians. The novel and upsetting

effect of evolutionary biology was to change the conception of nature.

Nature was no longer a harmony; it was a scene of struggle, “nature red in

tooth and claw.” Elimination of the weak was natural, and it might even be

considered good insofar as it contributed to evolutionary development.

Such conceptions of what was good or benefi cial for evolutionary progress profoundly

challenged traditional religious ideas about morality and virtue; indeed, the potential cri-

tique of Christian ethics posed a greater threat to religious values than the revision of the

biblical account of creation. Darwin’s theory asserted that there were no fi xed species or

perfected forms, but only an unending fl ux. Change was everlasting; and everything

seemed relative to time, place, and environment. There were no higher norms of good and

bad; a good organism was one that survived where others perished; adaptation replaced

virtue; outside successful adaptation there was nothing “right.” The test was, in short, suc-

cess; the “fi t” were those who survived; and here Darwinism merged with the new realism,

or Realpolitik, and other social doctrines that were appearing in Europe at the same time from other causes.

Such at least were the implications if one generalized from science, carrying over

scientifi c fi ndings into human affairs, and the prestige of science was so

great that this is precisely what many people wished to do. With the pop-

ularization of biological evolution, a school of social theorists known as

Social Darwinists actively applied the ideas of the struggle for existence

and survival of the fi ttest to human society. Social Darwinists were found all over Europe

and the United States. Their doctrines were put to various political and cultural uses, to

show that some peoples were naturally superior to others, such as whites to blacks, or Nor-

dics to Latins, or Germans to Slavs (or vice versa), or non-Jews to Jews; or that the upper

Changing views of

nature

Social Darwinism

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623

and middle classes, comfortable and contented, deserved these blessings because they had

proved themselves “fi tter” than the shiftless poor; or that big business in the nature of

things had to take over smaller concerns; or that some states, such as the British or German

Empires, were bound to rise, or that war was morally a fi ne thing, proving the virility and

survival value of those who fought. These ideas gave new meanings to national wars and to

the claims for cultural or racial superiority that were used to justify late nineteenth-century

European imperialism.

Genetics, Anthropology, and Psychology

Meanwhile Gregor Mendel (1822–1884), an Austrian monk patiently

experimenting with the cross-pollination of garden peas in his Augustinian

monastery, arrived at an explanation of how heredity operates and how

hybridization can take place. Unlike Darwin, his fi ndings, published in

1866, were ignored until 1900, when they were rediscovered and became the basis for the

new science of genetics. Mendel’s ideas foreshadowed the remarkable breakthroughs in

the scientifi c study of heredity and control over genetic materials that began in the second

half of the twentieth century and have continued into our own time.

Anthropologists gained public infl uence in this era by setting out to explain the physi-

cal and cultural characteristics of all branches of humankind. Physical anthropologists

became interested in the several human “races,” some of which they considered might be

“favored” in the Darwinian sense, that is, superior in inheritance and survival value. Some

European scientists and intellectuals argued that the whites were the most competent race,

and then extended their racist categories to assert that the Nordics or Germans or Anglo-

Saxons were superior among Europeans. The public became more race conscious than

Europeans had ever been before. On the other hand the cultural anthropologists, surveying

all manner of primitive or complex societies with scientifi c comparisons, seemed some-

times to teach a more defl ating doctrine. Scientifi cally, it seemed, no culture or society was

“better” than any other, all being adaptations to an environment, or merely a matter

of custom—of the mores, as people said in careful distinction from “morals.” The new anthropology thus contributed new cultural evidence to support a kind of relativism or

skepticism—a negation of values, a belief that right and wrong were matters of social con-

vention, psychological conditioning, mere opinion, or point of view. We are describing, let

it be emphasized, not the history of science itself but the effects of science upon European

civilization at the time.

The impact of anthropology was felt keenly in religion too. Sir James

Frazer (1854–1941) in his multivolumed The Golden Bough demonstrated that some of the most sacred practices, rites, and ideas of Christianity were

not unique among human religious traditions; similar rituals and beliefs

could be found in numerous premodern societies, and, according to Frazer, only the thin-

nest of lines divided belief in magic from religion. Anthropology, like Darwinian evolu-

tion, could therefore undermine traditional religious beliefs, including a belief in either the

uniqueness or the universal truth of European religions.

Psychology, as a science of human behavior, led to thoroughly upsetting implications

about the very nature of human freedom and rationality. It was launched in the 1870s as a

natural science by the German physiologist Wilhelm Wundt (1832–1920), who developed

various new experimental techniques. The Russian Ivan Pavlov (1849–1936) conducted a

famous series of experiments in which he “conditioned” dogs to salivate automatically at

Gregor Mendel

Anthropology and

religion

73. Science, Philosophy, the Arts, and Religion

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Chapter 15 European Civilization, 1871–1914: Society and Culture624

the ringing of a bell once they had become accustomed over a period of time to associate

the sound with the serving of their food. Pavlov’s observations were important. They

implied that a great part of animal behavior, and presumably human behavior, could be

explained on the basis of conditioned responses. In the case of human beings, their actions

and responses to various situations were apparently conditioned or deeply shaped by ear-

lier environments, training, and social experiences rather than by personal choices or con-

scious reasoning.

Most signifi cant of all the developments in the study of human behav-

ior was the work of Sigmund Freud (1856–1939) and those infl uenced by

him. Freud, a Viennese physician, founded psychoanalysis at the turn of

the century. He came to believe that certain forms of emotional disturbance

like hysteria were traceable to unconscious desires and painful earlier forgotten episodes

of patients’ lives. After fi rst trying various techniques such as hypnosis, which he soon

abandoned, he employed free association, or free recall. If patients could be helped to

bring their suppressed desires or painful experiences into conscious recall, the symptoms

of illness would often disappear.

From these beginnings Freud and his followers explored the role that the unconscious

played in all human behavior, he himself stressing the sexual drive. In one of his most

famous books, The Interpretation of Dreams (1900), he argued that the analysis of dreams provided the most direct access to a person’s repressed memories and unconscious mind.

In later books such as Civilization and Its Discontents (1930) Freud extended his account of unconscious drives and frustrations into the broader cultural spheres of religion, edu-

cation, art, literature, and war, arguing that the deepest desires within the human mind

were both repressed and expressed in the social customs and institutions of all societies.

Freud and Freudian ideas had great infl uence on the social and behavioral sciences, and

a good deal of the Freudian vocabulary later entered into everyday modern language and

popular culture. In its deepest signifi cance psychoanalysis, by revealing the wide areas of

human behavior outside conscious control, suggested that human beings were not essen-

tially rational creatures at all. Although Freud identifi ed with the scientifi c traditions of the

Enlightenment, his theory of the unconscious called into question the classical liberal and

Enlightenment assumptions about how reasonable, free persons developed, explained, and

acted upon their individual interests or beliefs.

The New Physics

The revolution in biology of the nineteenth century, together with the developments in

psychology and anthropology, were soon to be matched and surpassed by the revolution in

physics. In the late 1890s physics was on the threshold of a revolutionary transformation.

Like Newtonian mechanics in the seventeenth century and Darwinian evolution in the

nineteenth, the new physics represented one of the great scientifi c revolutions of all time.

There was no single work comparable to Newton’s Principia or Darwin’s Origin of Species unless Albert Einstein’s theory of relativity, propounded in a series of scientifi c papers in 1905 and 1916, might be considered as

such. Instead there was a series of discoveries and fi ndings, partly mathe-

matical and then increasingly empirical, that threw new light on the nature

of matter and energy. In Newtonian physics the atom, the basic unit of all matter, which

the Greeks had hypothesized in ancient times, was like a hard, solid, unstructured billiard

ball, permanent and unchanging; and matter and energy were separate and distinct.

Sigmund Freud

Einstein’s theory of

relativity

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625

But a series of discoveries profoundly altered this view in the early decades of the

twentieth century. In 1896 the French scientist Antoine Henri Becquerel discovered radioac-

tivity, observing that uranium emitted particles or rays of energy. In the years immediately

following, from the observations and discoveries of the French scientists Pierre and Marie

Curie and the Englishmen J. J. Thomson and Lord Rutherford, there emerged the notion that

atoms were not simple but complex and, moreover, that various radioactive atoms were by

nature unstable, releasing energy as they disintegrated. The German physicist Max Planck

demonstrated in 1900 that energy was emitted or absorbed in specifi c and discrete units or

bundles, each called a quantum; moreover, energy was not emitted smoothly and continu-

ously as previously thought, nor was it as distinguishable from matter as once supposed. In

1913, the Danish physicist Niels Bohr postulated an atom consisting of a nucleus of protons

surrounded by electrically charged units, called electrons, rotating around the nucleus, each

in its orbit, like a minuscule solar system.

The study of radioactivity led scientists back toward an idea long rejected, the favored

view of the alchemists, that matter was transmutable; in a way undreamed of even by the

alchemists, it was convertible into energy. The German-born Jewish scien-

tifi c genius Albert Einstein (1879–1955) expressed this conversion of mat-

ter into energy in a famous formula e   5   mc 2 . The formula summarized his theory of relativity, which also carried the profoundly revolutionary notion

that time, space, and motion were not absolute in character but were relative to the observer

and the observer’s own movement in space. In later years, in 1929 and in 1954, Einstein

brought together into one common set of laws, as Newton formerly had done, a unifi ed

fi eld theory, an explanation of gravitation, electromagnetism, and subatomic behavior. Dif-

fi cult as it was for even the serious-minded to grasp, and a great deal was still the subject of

scientifi c controversy, it modifi ed much that had been taken for granted since Newton. The

Newtonian world was being replaced by a four-dimensional world, a kind of space-time

continuum; and in mathematics, non-Euclidian geometries were being developed.

e  5  mc 2

Sigmund Freud’s description of the unconscious mind reshaped modern conceptions of human psychology and infl uenced the arts, literature, and social theories as well as the medical treatment of mental illnesses. As this photograph suggests, however, the “revolutionary” Dr. Freud was also a typical member of his own cultural milieu— the professional class in early twentieth-century Vienna. (Mondadori via Getty Images)

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Chapter 15 European Civilization, 1871–1914: Society and Culture626

It turned out, too, that neither cause and effect nor time and space nor Newton’s

law of universal gravitation meant very much in the subatomic world nor indeed in the

cosmos when objects moved with the speed of light. It was impossible, as the German

scientist Werner Heisenberg demonstrated a little later, in 1927, by his principle of uncer-

tainty, or indeterminacy, to ascertain simultaneously both the position and the velocity of

the individual electron. On these foundations established before the First World War there

developed the new science of nuclear physics and the tapping of the atom’s energy. The

atom and its world of subatomic particles were discovered to be even more complex than

conceived of before 1914. Despite the complexity of the scientifi c language and theories,

new ideas about the “relativity” of human knowledge soon began to infl uence European

art, philosophy, and literature—much as Newtonian physics had infl uenced nonscientifi c

thought in the Enlightenment-era culture of the eighteenth century.

Trends in Philosophy and the Arts

Although some writers and artists resembled earlier Romantic thinkers in criticizing

Enlightenment ideas or modern science, most European intellectuals in this period viewed

science as the model for all forms of knowledge. They were drawn to positivism or to

the belief that scientifi c methods provided the only “positive” knowledge of the world.

Anything unknowable to science must therefore remain unknowable

forever—a doctrine called agnosticism, or the acknowledgment of igno-

rance. Herbert Spencer (1820–1903) in England and Ernst Haeckel (1834–

1919) in Germany were widely read popularizers of agnosticism; both also

pictured a universe governed by Darwinian evolution. For Spencer especially, all philoso-

phy could be unifi ed, organized, and coordinated through the doctrine of evolution; this

doctrine he applied not only to all living things but also to sociology, government, and

economics as well. The evolution of society, he believed, was leading toward increasing

freedom for the individual, the role of governments being merely to maintain freedom

and justice; governments should therefore not interfere with natural social and economic

processes, nor coddle the weak and unfi t. Yet, like Darwin himself, Spencer believed that

Agnosticism

The new theories that emerged in physics after 1900 transformed earlier Newto- nian science and gave the young Albert Einstein an international reputation. This picture shows Einstein standing next to his personal books and papers in the 1920s, several years before he moved to the United States to escape the intolerance and repression in Nazi Germany. (General Photographic Agency/Getty Images)

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627

altruism, charity, and goodwill were useful as individual ethical virtues. He separated

such virtues from religious traditions, however, by describing them as laudable products

of evolutionary development.

These l atter views of individual ethics were not shared by another of the serious

writers of the age, also much infl uenced by evolutionary ideas, the

German philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche (1844–1900). Drawing upon

many intellectual currents of the century, Nietzsche was an unsystematic,

radical thinker to whom it is easy to do less than justice. It is evident,

however, that he held a low opinion of modern, democratic societies. From a back-

ground of evolutionary thinking he developed the concept of an Overman, a new kind of

noble being who would create new ethical values and philosophical truths that would

enable him to break away from constraining cultural traditions and also to dominate or

dazzle the multitude. Qualities of humility, patience, helpfulness, hope, and love, in

short the specifi cally Christian virtues, Nietzsche described as a slave morality con-

cocted by the weak to disarm the strong. He drew sharp contrasts between the ethical

traditions of Christianity and his own philosophical values, which emphasized qualities

of courage, love of danger, intellectual excellence, and personal independence. Indeed

he argued that all humans, even philosophers, were driven more by their instincts and a

“will to power” than by reason or rational thought. His critique of religion revived and

revised some forms of classical paganism. Nietzsche was neither much read nor much

respected by his contemporaries, many of whom considered him unbalanced or even

insane; but he nevertheless expressed with unshrinking frankness many of the ethical

and philosophical implications of the new evolutionary ideas. And his critique of reason

and rationality had wide infl uence among anti-Enlightenment thinkers both before and

after the First World War.

As in the sciences and philosophy, the new works of creative imagination—literature,

drama and the fi ne arts—conveyed changing conceptions of truth, ethics, and social life.

Some writers, like Emile Zola in France or Henrik Ibsen in Scandinavia, turned to the

portrayal of social problems, producing a realistic literature that dealt with industrial strife,

strikes, prostitution, divorce, or insanity. New psychological theories also appeared in

literary works, especially in fi ctional portraits of troubled characters and irrational human

behavior. The new novels and plays were indeed often truer to specifi c social or psy-

chological experiences than the older forms of European literature. But some literary

movements—for example, the symbolist poets in France—were experimenting with lan-

guage in works that moved modern writing far away from the literal representation of

social realities. In a sense the arts followed the intellectual developments of the age, refl ect-

ing, as they do today, diverse attitudes of relativism, irrationalism, social determinism,

linguistic ambiguity, and interest in the operations of the unconscious mind. On the other

hand, never had artist and society been so far apart. The French painter Paul Gauguin, an

extreme case, fl ed to the South Seas, abandoned his family and modern European life, and

reveled in the stark violence of tropical colors (see Gauguin’s painting Ia Orana Maria on p. 628). Others became absorbed in technicalities or mere capricious self-expression.

Art at its extreme fringe became almost incomprehensible and the average person seemed

deprived of a visual means (as old as the cave paintings of the Stone Age) of perceiving

and enjoying the world.

The artistic movement known as Impressionism did not sever all links between paint-

ing and the external world, however, and the Impressionists became perhaps the most

infl uential artists in late nineteenth-century Europe. Rising to prominence in the 1870s and

Friedrich Nietzsche

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Chapter 15 European Civilization, 1871–1914: Society and Culture628

1880s, painters such as Claude Monet, Pierre-Auguste Renoir, Camille Pissaro, Berthe

Morisot, and Mary Cassatt rejected traditional styles of academic painting in France and

turned instead to the representation of everyday life and the colorful play of light in the

natural world. In contrast to earlier painters who had worked in studios and depicted scenes

from mythology, classical history, or exotic cultures, the Impressionists preferred to paint

outdoors and to portray the streets or buildings of modern France, the daily activities of

IA ORANA MARIA by Paul Gauguin (French, 1848–1903)

Gauguin moved to Tahiti in the early 1890s, searching for non-European alternatives to the culture and art he had known in France. His use of color and his portrayal of Tahitians infl uenced avant-garde European artists, but Gauguin also continued to draw on (classical) European artistic themes. The title of this painting means “Hail Mary,” an allusion to the biblical Annunciation in which the angel Gabriel told the Virgin Mary that she would give birth to a child. (The Metropolitan Museum of Art/Art Resource, NY)

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629

ordinary people, or the pleasures of a modern café. Monet was especially adept at repre-

senting the same object in various shades of light (see, for example, the Rouen Cathedral at top of this page), but all Impressionists used light and color rather than classical lines

or themes to convey their “impressions” of the modern world. Most Impressionist painters

were French and most were men, though women such as Morisot and the American-born

Cassatt also produced innovative works, often portraying women in the different phases of

their lives (see Morisot’s Young Girl Boating on p. 630 and Cassatt’s The Boating Party on p. 631)

Impressionism gradually gained international infl uence and became the aesthetic

starting point for other artists, usually called Postimpressionists, who portrayed people

and objects in novel and increasingly abstract forms and surprising colors. The works of

Paul Cézanne are infl uential examples of the Postimpressionist art that pushed steadily

beyond Impressionism in a continuing attempt to represent the artist’s distinctive per-

sonal vision of human experience (see Cézanne’s Self-Portrait with Beret on p. 632). By the early twentieth century, artists such as Pablo Picasso, Georges Braque, and Vasily

A distinctive fascination with light can be seen in most Impres- sionist works, as in Claude Monet’s paintings of the cathe- dral at Rouen. This view of the cathedral in the evening light was one of a series that Monet painted in the 1890s, when he portrayed the different appear- ances and colors of objects in various shades of light over the course of a single day. (Musée d’Orsay Paris/Gianni

Dagli Orti/The Art Archive at Art

Resource, NY)

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Chapter 15 European Civilization, 1871–1914: Society and Culture630

Kandinsky were painting “Cubist” or “Abstract Expressionist” works that represented

natural objects and the human body in highly abstract forms and splashes of color, most of

which bore little or no resemblance to what scientists might have called objective reality

(see Picasso’s Les Demoiselles d’Avignon on p. 633). After the First World War, and continuing throughout the twentieth century, the same

trends of subjectivism in the arts attracted a wider, less-skeptical audience. People read

books without punctuation (or with peculiar punctuation); listened to music called atonal,

composed for effects of discord and dissonance; and studied intently abstract or “nonob-

jective” paintings and sculpture to which the artists themselves often refused to give titles.

Although they were often critical of modern industrial society, artists and their art also

exemplifi ed the specialization and division of labor in modern social or economic systems.

Artists were no longer speaking for society or creating art for common use or enjoyment

but were specialists plying their trade and pursuing their own concerns—like other modern

specialists whose work was often incomprehensible to outsiders.

YOUNG GIRL BOATING by Berthe Morisot (French, 1841–1895)

The French painter Berthe Morisot was one of the fi rst women to adopt the methods and per- spectives of Impressionist art. This painting shows the movement’s characteristic concern with the play of light and color in outdoor scenes. The portrayal of a young girl on the water was also typical of Morisot’s particular interest in representing the experiences and memories of women. (The Bridgeman Art Library)

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631

The Churches and the Modern Age

Religion had always been one of the most infl uential components of

European societies, but like other cultural traditions it faced new chal-

lenges and critiques in the later nineteenth century. It was now a long time

since almost everyone had looked to religion for social and intellectual

guidance. But religion was more threatened after 1860 or 1870 than ever in the past,

because never before had science, or philosophies drawing upon science, addressed them-

selves so directly to the nature of life and of human existence. Never before had so many

of the fundamental premises of traditional religion been questioned or denied. Darwinian

Threats to religion

THE BOATING PARTY by Mary Cassatt (American-born, lived in France, 1844–1926)

Cassatt lived and worked throughout her adult life in France. She developed her most distinc- tive works under the infl uence of both Impressionism and the traditions of Japanese art. She painted many pictures of mothers with their children, including this somewhat mysterious image of a man rowing a woman and child across a European lake. (National Gallery of Art)

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Chapter 15 European Civilization, 1871–1914: Society and Culture632

evolution challenged the value of Christian ethics as well as the traditional picture of Cre-

ation, and anthropologists questioned the uniqueness of the most sacred Christian tenets.

There developed also the “higher” criticism of the Bible, an effort to apply to the Scrip-

tures the techniques of scholarship long applied to secular documents, to incorporate

archeological discoveries, and to reconstruct a naturalistic, historical account of ancient

religious times. This form of critical, textual analysis, going back at least to the seven-

teenth century, now took on signifi cant proportions and was applied both to the Old Tes-

tament and the New. The Bible became for many scholars another object for historical

analysis rather than a sacred text. In the case of the Old Testament the patient scrutiny of

style and language cast doubt on the validity of certain prophecies; and in the New the

SELF-PORTRAIT WITH BERET by Paul Cézanne (French, 1839–1906)

Cézanne went beyond early Impressionist art to develop a new emphasis on the shapes or contours of natural objects, buildings, and people. He also applied his innovative techniques to portraits of himself, striving to depict his identity as a painter through both the style and the content of such works. (Erich Lessing/Art Resource, NY)

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633

inconsistencies of the several Gospel sources were demonstrated by a new generation of

scholars and critics. The German theologian David Friedrich Strauss (1808–1874), one

such critical scholar, was the author of a widely discussed Life of Jesus, in which many miraculous and supernatural episodes were reverently but fi rmly explained away as myth.

The sensitive French historian and man of letters Ernest Renan (1823–1892) in a some-

what similar vein wrote on Jesus and the origins of Christianity and on the life of ancient

Israel, giving secular explanations for the oldest religious stories and beliefs. Moreover,

the whole tenor of the time, its absorption in material progress, kept people away from

church; and the wholesale uprooting, the movement from country to city, often broke

religious ties.

The Protestant churches were less successful than the Catholic in pro-

tecting their membership from the disintegrating effects of the age. Church

attendance among Protestants became increasingly casual, and the doctrines

set forth in sermons seemed increasingly remote. Protestants traditionally

trusted their own private judgment and regarded their clergy as their own agents, not as

authoritative teachers placed above them. Protestants also had always set special emphasis

on the Bible as the source of religious belief; and as doubts accumulated on the literal truth

of Biblical narratives there seemed no other authoritative source on which to rely.

Protestants tended to divide between modernists and fundamentalists. The fundamen-

talists, as they were called in the United States, in an effort to defend the literal word of

Scripture, were often obliged to deny the most indubitable fi ndings of science. The mod-

ernists were willing enough to accept science and to interpret much of the Bible as alle-

gory, but only with diffi culty could they recapture a strong sense of spirituality or urgent

feeling of Christian truth. Most Protestant churches were slow to face the social problems

and wholesale injustices produced by the economic system, though a group of “Christian

Challenges to

Protestantism

Pablo Picasso’s representations of the human body in paintings such as this disorienting collec- tive portrait, Les Demoiselles d’Avignon (1907), became the best-known works of early “Cub- ism.” The Cubist painters por- trayed objects from multiple perspectives and used abstract shapes or unexpected colors to convey the subjective visions of the artist rather than a realistic image of the external world. (The Museum of Modern Art/Licensed

by Scala/Art Resource, NY)

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Chapter 15 European Civilization, 1871–1914: Society and Culture634

socialists” had emerged by the early twentieth century in some Protestant denominations.

Because both education and the care for orphans, sick, and mentally disturbed persons

generally passed to the state, Protestant groups had less to do in the relief of suffering and

the upbringing of the young. Protestantism, to the regret of many Protestants, became

increasingly a customary observance by people whose minds were elsewhere. Not until

after the First World War could a strong Protestant revival be discerned, with a reaffi rma-

tion of basic doctrines by European theologians such as Karl Barth (1886–1968), and

an ecumenical movement on the part of divergent Protestant churches

to combine.

The Roman Catholic Church proved more resistant to the trends of

the age. We have seen how Pope Pius IX (1846–1878), after being driven

from Rome by republicans in 1848, gave up his inclinations to liberalism. In 1864, in the

Syllabus of Errors, he denounced as erroneous a long list of widely current ideas, includ- ing the faith in rationalism and science, and he vigorously denied that the head of the

church “should reconcile and align himself with progress, liberalism, and modern civiliza-

tion.” The Syllabus was a warning to Catholics, not a matter of dogma incumbent upon them to believe. In dogma, the Immaculate Conception of the Virgin Mary was announced

as dogmatic truth in 1854; a century later, in 1950, the bodily assumption of Mary into

heaven was proclaimed. Thus the Catholic Church reaffi rmed in a skeptical scientifi c age,

and against Christian modernists, its faith in the supernatural and miraculous.

Pius IX also convened a general church council, which met at the Vatican in 1870. It

was the fi rst such council since the Council of Trent some 300 years before. The Vatican

Council proclaimed the dogma of papal infallibility, which holds that the pope, when

speaking ex cathedra on matters of faith and morals, speaks with a fi nal and supernatural

authority that no Catholic may question or reject. The Vatican Council, and the accep-

tance of papal infallibility by Catholics, was the climax of centuries of development

within the church. In brief, as the world grew more national, Catholicism became more

international. As state sovereignty and secularism grew, Catholic clergy looked increas-

ingly to the spiritual powers of Rome for protection against alien forces, including the

nationalism and centralizing power of modern nation-states. Much in the past 300 years

had made Catholics distrustful of their own governments or of non-Catholics in their

midst—the Protestantism and the state churches of the sixteenth century, the Jansenist

movement of the seventeenth, the anticlericalism of enlightened despotism in the eigh-

teenth, the hostility to the church shown by the French Revolution, and by liberalism,

republicanism, and socialism in the nineteenth century. By 1870 the net effect was to

throw Catholics into the arms of the Holy See. Ultramontanism, the unconditional accep-

tance of papal jurisdiction, prevailed over the old French Gallicanism and other national

tendencies that had long existed within the Catholic Church as a counterbalance to the

power of the popes.

In 1870, while the 600 prelates of the Vatican Council were sitting, the new Italian

state unceremoniously entered and annexed the city of Rome. The pope’s temporal power

thus disappeared. It is now widely agreed that with the loss of local temporal interests the

spiritual hold of the papacy on Catholics throughout the world was ultimately enhanced.

The popes long refused, however, to recognize the loss of Rome; and each pope in turn,

from 1870 to 1929, adopted a policy of self-imprisonment in the Vatican

grounds. By the Lateran treaty of 1929 the papacy fi nally recognized the

Italian state, and Italy conceded the existence of a Vatican City about a

square mile in area, as an independent state not legally within Italy at all.

Catholicism resists

Vatican City

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635

The papacy thus gained the independence from national or secular authority deemed nec-

essary by Catholics to the performance of its role.

Pius IX’s successor, Leo XIII (1878–1903), carried on the counteroffensive against

irreligion and instituted a revival of medieval philosophy as represented by Thomas Aqui-

nas. But Leo XIII is chiefl y remembered for formulating Catholic social

doctrine, especially in the encyclical Rerum Novarum (“of modern things”) of 1891, to which subsequent pontiffs have adhered, and from which vari-

ous movements of Catholic socialism are derived. Rerum Novarum upheld private property as a natural right, within the limits of justice; but it found fault with capi-

talism for the poverty, insecurity, and even degradation in which many of the laboring

classes were left. It declared that much in socialism was Christian in principle; but it criti-

cized socialism insofar as (like Marxism) it was materialistic and antireligious. The pope

therefore recommended that Catholics, if they wished, form socialist parties of their own

and that Catholic workers form labor unions under Catholic auspices.

As for Judaism, the Jews were a small minority, but their condition had always been a

kind of barometer refl ecting changes in the atmosphere of tolerance as a

whole. In the nineteenth century the basic trend was toward emancipation

and assimilation. Science and secularism had the same dissolving effect

upon Orthodox Judaism as upon traditional Christianity. Reform Judaism

grew up as the Jewish counterpart to modernism in other faiths. Secular Jews moved away

from worship altogether. In society at large, the prevalence of liberalism allowed them to

act as citizens and to enter business or the professions like everybody else, freed from old

legal discriminations that had been imposed on them for centuries.

Toward the end of the century two important new tendencies began to challenge or

counter earlier trends that were leading to the assimilation of Jewish communities and indi-

viduals. One, a cultural and political nationalism, originated with Jews themselves, some of

whom feared an assimilation that would lead to a loss of Jewish identity and perhaps even

the disappearance of Judaism itself. The other countertendency, or barrier to

assimilation, was the rise of a virulent new anti-Semitism, noticeable in many

quarters by 1900. Racist theories, dislike for Jewish competitors in busi-

ness and the professions, socialist scorn for Jewish capitalists like the Roth-

schilds, upper-class fears of Jewish revolutionists and Marxists, together

with a growth of ethnic nationalism, which held that France should be purely French

and Latin, Germany purely German and Nordic, or Russia purely Russian and Slav, all

combined to raise an anti-Semitic hue and cry. In Russia there were fi erce pogroms, or

massacres of Jews. In France the Dreyfus case, which dragged on from 1894 to 1906,

revealed unsuspected depths of anti-Semitic fury. Many Jews were forced by such hostility

into a new sense of Jewish identity. The Hungarian-born Jewish journalist Theodor Herzl

was one. Appalled by the turbulence of the Dreyfus affair in civilized France, which he

observed fi rsthand as a reporter for a Vienna newspaper, he founded modern, or politi-

cal, Zionism when he organized the fi rst international Zionist congress at Basel in 1897.

Advocating many of the political and cultural ideas that shaped the popular nationalisms of

this era, Zionists hoped to establish a Jewish state in Palestine, in which Jews from all the

world might fi nd refuge, although there had been no independent Jewish state there since

ancient times.

Many Jews, wishing civic assimilation yet despairing of obtaining it, began to

sympathize with the fusion of nationalism and religion in the Jewish nationalist move-

ment, looking to Zionism and a Jewish renascence as a way to maintain their own dignity.

Rerum Novarum

Jewish emancipation

The rise of anti-

Semitism

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Chapter 15 European Civilization, 1871–1914: Society and Culture636

Others insisted that Judaism was a religious faith, not a nationality by itself; that Jews

and non-Jews within the same country shared in exactly the same nationality, citizenship,

and political or social outlook. On the integration of Jews into the larger community

the traditions of the Enlightenment, the American and French revolutions, the empire

of Napoleon I, and the liberalism of the nineteenth century all agreed. But these tradi-

tions were often denounced by a new generation of European ethnic nationalists, whose

anti-Semitism contributed to a threatening political environment in which Jews debated

the opportunities as well as the obstacles for both civic assimilation and the expanding

Zionist movement.

74. THE WANING OF CLASSICAL LIBERALISM

The net effect of the political, economic, cultural, and intellectual trends described above

was twofold. There was a continued advance of much that was basic to classical liberalism

and at the same time a weakening of the grounds on which liberalism had fi rmly rested

ever since the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. A third effect might be noted too.

Even where the essentials of liberalism persisted, in program and doctrine it underwent

important changes; liberalism persisted but the classical type of liberalism

was in eclipse.

Classical liberalism, the liberalism in its heyday in the nineteenth cen-

tury, went back at least as far as John Locke in the seventeenth century and

the philosophes of the eighteenth. It found its highest nineteenth-century expression in

political philosophers such as John Stuart Mill and in the outlook of political leaders such

as William Gladstone. Classical liberalism had as its deepest principle the liberty of the

individual. Man, or each specimen of humankind according to liberals, was or could

become a freestanding being. “Man” meant for them any member of the human race, homo

sapiens, though in practice, except for a few like Mill, they were usually thinking of adult

Liberalism changed

This is a photograph of the Jewish journalist Theodor Herzl (1860–1904), who responded to anti-Semitic ideologies in central Europe and the anti-Semitism of the Dreyfus Affair in France by launching a new Zionist movement in late nineteenth-century Europe. Herzl organized the fi rst international Zionist Congress and called for the creation of a new Jewish state in Palestine, which was at this time part of the Ottoman Empire and occupied by a predomi- nantly Arab population. (Three Lions/Getty Images)

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63774. The Waning of Classical Liberalism

males. The very principle of liberalism, however, with its stress on the autonomy of the

individual, also contributed to the growing movement for women’s rights.

The individual, in this view, was not simply formed by race, class, church, nation, or

state but was ultimately independent of all such collective identities. Individuals did not

hold their ideas because they belonged to particular ethnic or social groups. They were

viewed as autonomous persons who were capable of the free use of reason

or of thinking independently, apart from their own interests, prejudices, or

unconscious drives. And, because this was the nature of rational human

behavior, people of different interests could reasonably and profi tably dis-

cuss their differences, analyze public issues, make compromises, and reach

solutions by peaceable agreement. It was because they thought all persons potentially rea-

sonable that liberals strongly favored the expansion of education and legal protections for

free speech and a free press. They opposed all imposition of force upon the individual,

from physical torture to mental indoctrination.

In religion, liberals thought each individual should adopt any faith or no faith as he

or she chose and that churches and clergy should play little or no part in public affairs.

In politics, they thought that governments should be constitutional and limited in power,

with individuals governing themselves through their chosen representatives, with issues

discussed and decided by the use of intelligence, both by the voters in election campaigns

and by elected deputies in parliamentary debate. The will of a majority, or larger num-

ber of individuals, was taken as decisive, with the understanding that the minority might

become a majority in its turn as individuals changed opinions and voted in free elections.

At fi rst distrustful of democracy, fearing the excesses of popular rule, and eager to limit

political power and the suffrage to the propertied classes, in the course of the nineteenth

century liberals had accepted the democratic principle of universal male suffrage, if not

The rational

individual

The English political writer John Stuart Mill, who appears here in a photograph from the early 1850s, was one of the most infl uential advocates of classical liberal- ism. By the last years of his career, how- ever, he had also become a prominent supporter of political rights for women and of social reforms that broke with some of the individualism in classical lib- eral theory. (Library of Congress [LC-USZ62-2939])

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Chapter 15 European Civilization, 1871–1914: Society and Culture638

yet the vote for women. In economics, liberals thought of the whole world as peopled by

individuals doing business with one another—buying and selling, borrowing and lending,

hiring and fi ring—without interference from governments and without regard to religion

or politics, both of which were thought to impose superfi cial differences upon the under-

lying uniformity of mankind. The practical consequences of liberalism were toleration,

constitutionalism, laissez-faire, free trade, and an international economic system. It was

thought that all peoples would progress to these same ends, though the era’s pervasive rac-

ism and the attitudes of imperialism blocked the actual application of liberal principles to

the non-European peoples who lived under European rule in old and new colonial empires.

There never was a time, even in one country, when all liberal ideas were simultane-

ously triumphant. Pure liberalism, like most other cultural and political ideologies, has

never existed except as a doctrine. Advancing in one way, liberalism would be blocked or

reversed in another. On the whole, however, in the decades before 1914, European states

and cultures were predominantly liberal. But signs of the wane of liberalism set in clearly

about 1880; some, like the changing conceptions of human behavior, the new interest in

the irrational and the rising anti-Semitism, have already been mentioned.

The Decline of Nineteenth-Century Liberalism: Economic Trends

The free economy produced many hardships. Workers tossed by the ups and downs of a

labor market and producers caught in the uncertainties of a world commodity market clam-

ored for protection against exposure. A severe depression in 1873 sent prices and wages

into collapse, and the economy did not fully recover until 1893. European farmers, both

small French farm owners and big Junker landlords in East Germany, demanded tariff

protection; they could not compete with the American Middle West or the steppes of South

Russia, both of which after 1870 poured their cereals at low prices into Europe. The revival

of tariffs and decline of free trade, very marked in Europe about 1880, thus began with the

protection of agricultural interests. Industry soon demanded the same favors. In Germany

the Junkers and the rising Rhineland industrialists joined forces in 1879 to extort a tariff

from Bismarck. The French in 1892 adopted a high tariff to shelter both manufacturing and

agricultural interests. The United States, rapidly industrializing but still facing the compe-

tition of manufactured goods from Europe, also adopted protective tariffs beginning in the

1860s, the earliest of all.

The Industrial Revolution was now defi nitely at work in countries other than Great

Britain. There was increasing resistance among Europeans who had long bought manufac-

tures from England, selling only raw materials and foodstuffs in return. Everywhere there

was a revival of the arguments of the German economist Friedrich List,

who a half-century before, in his National System of Political Economy (1840), had branded free trade as a system mainly advantageous to the

British and declared that no country could become strong, independent, or

even fully civilized if it remained an agrarian supplier of unfi nished goods. With Germany,

the United States, and Japan manufacturing for export, a nationalist competition for world

markets set in, contributing also to the drive for colonies and the new imperialism described

in the next chapter. The new imperialism itself was another sign of the waning of liberal-

ism, which had been largely indifferent to colonies.

In all these respects the division between politics and economics, pos-

tulated by liberals, began to fade. A kind of neomercantilism arose, recall-

ing the attempts of governments in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries

A revival of List

Economic nationalism

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639

to subordinate economic activity to political ends. A better term for this later period is

economic nationalism, which became noticeable by 1900. Nations struggled to strengthen

themselves by tariffs, by trade competition and by internal regulation, without regard to

the effect upon other nations. Workers and business entrepreneurs were now very much

affected in purely economic matters by the nation to which they belonged and by the gov-

ernment or laws under which they lived.

It was of course to protect themselves against insecurity and abuse as individuals that

workers formed labor unions. It was likewise to protect themselves against the uncertain-

ties of uncontrolled markets that business interests began to merge; to concentrate in large

corporations; or to form monopolies, trusts, or cartels. The rise of big business and orga-

nized labor undermined the practice of individual competition and free markets to which

the theories of classical liberalism had been closely attached. Organized labor, socialist

parties, universal male suffrage, and a sensitivity to social distress all obliged political

leaders to intervene increasingly in economic matters. Factory codes became more

detailed and better enforced. Social insurance, initiated by Bismarck, spread to other

countries. Governments regulated the purity of foods and drugs. The social service state

developed, a state assuming responsibility for the social and economic

welfare of the mass of its own subjects or citizens. The “new” liberalism

on both sides of the Atlantic, that of the Liberals in England of the David

Lloyd George era, of the Republican President Theodore Roosevelt and the

Democratic President Woodrow Wilson in the United States, accepted the

enlarged role of the government in social and economic matters. Both Roosevelt and

Wilson, and others in Europe, sought also to reestablish economic competition by govern-

ment action against monopolies and trusts. The new liberals were generally more favor-

ably disposed toward workers and the disadvantaged classes than toward business; the

improvement of the workers’ lot was increasingly viewed as an extension of liberalism’s

traditional concern with the dignity and worth of the individual person. The welfare state

with an enlarged role for government, remote as it was from classical liberalism, was

The “new” liberalism

and the welfare state

CHRONOLOGY OF NOTABLE EVENTS, 1859–1920

1859 Charles Darwin publishes Origin of Species; “evolution” becomes a key theme in modern intellectual life

1880s–1890s Claude Monet and other artists portray the nuances of light and color in

Impressionist paintings

1889 European socialist parties establish the Second International

1897 Theodor Herzl organizes the fi rst international Zionist congress

1900 Sigmund Freud develops his theory of the unconscious mind in The Interpretation of Dreams

1905 Albert Einstein introduces the theory of relativity in physics

1907 Pablo Picasso advances his new Cubist style of painting in works such as Les Demoiselles d’Avignon

1918–1920 Women gain the right to vote in Britain, Germany, and the United States

74. The Waning of Classical Liberalism

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Chapter 15 European Civilization, 1871–1914: Society and Culture640

embraced by many new liberals as a mechanism for the advancement of individual inter-

ests. Unlike the socialists, who generally stressed the social identities of economic classes

and the collective interests of workers, the new liberals still emphasized the autonomy of

individual citizens—even as they argued that such citizens needed the assistance of gov-

ernment interventions. Advocates of the older or classical liberalism, however, often

opposed the growing power of governments and centralized authority and were apprehen-

sive for individual liberties.

Intellectual and Other Currents

Liberalism, both old and new, was undermined also by many developments

in the fi eld of thought described earlier in this chapter—Darwinian evo-

lution, the new psychology, and trends in philosophy and the arts. Para-

doxically, this great age of science found that the human being was not

a rational animal. Darwinian theory implied that the human species was merely a highly

evolved organism whose faculties could be described basically as successful adaptations to

an environment. Psychology seemed to teach that what was called reason was often only

rationalization, or a fi nding of alleged “reasons” to justify material wants or emotional and

unconscious needs, and that conscious refl ection dominated only a narrow part of human

behavior. Ideas themselves were said to be the products of cultural conditioning or of

social power. There were English ideas or Anglo-Saxon ideas, or bourgeois or progres-

sive or reactionary ideas. In politics, some believed that parties or nations with confl icting

interests could never reasonably agree on a program common to both, because neither

could ever get beyond the limitations of its own outlook. It became common to dismiss

the arguments of an adversary without further thought and without any expectation that

analytical thought could overcome diffi culties. This insidious “anti-intellectualism” was

destructive to liberal principles. If, because of prior conditioning, it was impossible to

change one’s mind, then there was no hope of settling matters by persuasion.

From the view that the human being was not essentially a rational creature, which in

itself was only a scientifi c attempt at a better understanding of human behavior, it was but

a short step deliberately to reject reason and to emphasize and cultivate the irrational; to

stress the will, intuition, impulse, and emotion; and to place a new value on violence and

confl ict. A philosophy of “realism,” a kind of unreasoning faith in the constructive value of

struggle and a tough-minded rejection of ideas and ideals, spread across much of Europe.

It was not new. Marxism, since the 1840s, had taught that class war, latent or open, was

the driving force of history. Now Nietzsche rejected the religious descriptions of ethical

virtues in favor of personal courage and daring; and the Social Darwinists glorifi ed the

successful and the dominant in all phases of human activity as the most “fi t” in a perpetual

struggle for existence. Other thinkers embraced a frank irrationalism. Georges Sorel, the

philosopher of syndicalism, in his Refl ections on Violence in 1908, declared that violence was good irrespective of the end accomplished and that workers should believe in the

“myth” of a future general strike, with its attendant debacle of bourgeois civilization, even

though it was known to be only a myth. The function of thought, in this philosophy of the

social myth, was to keep people agitated and excited and ready for action, not to achieve

any correspondence with rational or objective truth. Such ideas soon passed into the fas-

cism and other activist movements of the twentieth century.

Thus, the end of the nineteenth century, the greatest age of peace in Europe’s history,

abounded in philosophies glorifying struggle. People who had never heard a shot fi red in

Challenges to

Liberalism

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641

anger solemnly announced that world history m oved forward by violence and antagonism.

They said not merely that struggle existed (which would have been a purely

factual statement) but that struggle was a positive good through which

progress was to be accomplished. The popularity of struggle was due not

only to the intellectuals but also in part to actual historical events. People

remembered that before 1871 certain weighty questions had been settled by

force, that the movements of social revolution in 1848 and in the Paris Commune of 1871

had been put down by the military, and that the unity of Italy and Germany, as well as of

the United States, had been confi rmed by war. In addition, after 1871, all continental

European states maintained large standing armies, the largest ever supported until then in

time of peace.

The popularity of

struggle

These miners, who were on strike at a coal mine in northern France in 1906, represent the militancy of the early twentieth-century European labor movement. Demanding better wages, better working conditions, and a greater role in public life, labor became an important force in the political cultures of all major European states during this era. (Roger-Viollet)

74. The Waning of Classical Liberalism

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Chapter 15 European Civilization, 1871–1914: Society and Culture642

In economic and political matters, even in England, the homeland of classical liberal-

ism, there were numerous signs between 1900 and 1914 that the older liberalism was on

the wane. Joseph Chamberlain led an English movement to return to tariff protection (to

repeal, so to speak, the repeal of the Corn Laws); it failed at the time, but was strong

enough to disorient the Conservative Party in 1906. The Liberal Party abandoned its

traditional laissez-faire policy in sponsoring the labor legislation of the years following

1906. The new Labour Party required its members in Parliament to vote as directed by the

party, thus initiating a system of party solidarity, eventually copied by others, that hard-

ened the lines of opposition, denied that individuals should freely change sides, and hence

reduced the practical signifi cance of parliamentary discussion. The Irish nationalists had

long used unparliamentary methods; in 1914, when Parliament at last enacted Irish home

rule, the anti-Irish and conservative interests prepared to resist parliamentary action by

force. The English suffragettes, despairing of ever getting the men to listen to reason,

resorted to the amazingly “un-English,” violent political actions noted earlier. And in 1911

and 1912 great railway and coal strikes disclosed the rising power of organized labor out-

side of Parliament and Britain’s other governing institutions.

Still, it is the persistence of liberalism rather than its wane that should

be emphasized at the close of two chapters on European history in the half-

century before 1914. Tariffs existed, but goods still circulated freely in

world trade. Nationalism was heightened, but there was nothing like totali-

tarianism. Racist ideas were widespread, but they still had more infl uence

on the colonial empires than on government policies within Europe itself. Anti-Semitism

was increasingly vocal; but all governments except the Russian protected the rights of

Jews, and the years from 1848 to 1914 were in fact the great period of Jewish integra-

tion into general society. The laissez-faire state was disappearing, but social legislation

continued the humanitarian strain that had always been an essential part of liberalism. A

few radicals called for social revolutions, but social democrats and working people were

overwhelmingly revisionist, loyal to parliamentary procedures and to their existing states.

Doctrinaires exalted the grim beauty of war, but all governments down to 1914 tried to

prevent war on the continent of Europe among the great powers. And despite the skep-

ticism of some radical philosophers, artists, and intellectuals, there was still a supreme

popular faith in progress.

The persistence of

liberalism

For suggested further readings and useful Web sites, interactive exercises, glossary, chronologies,

and more, go to the Online Learning Center at www.mhhe.com/palmerhistory11e.

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643

C h a p t e r 16 EUROPE’S WORLD

SUPREMACY,

1871–1914

The economic,  political, and cultural institutions and ideas of modern European civilization, as

described in the last two chapters, spread steadily

across most of the world after about 1870. The

large European nation-states, which were now

equipped with the overwhelming new powers of

science and industry, gained empires for them-

selves throughout the globe. The history of Europe

became more closely involved than ever before in

the interconnected history of the whole world.

For a while the most active of the imperial-

ist nation-states were located in Europe, and the

40 years preceding the First World War can there-

fore be described as the era of Europe’s world

supremacy. With the rise of the United States the

term “Western” came into use, signifying “Euro-

pean” cultures in an expanded sense. The rapid

economic development of Japan made the term

Western an inappropriate description for many aspects of “modernity” or “modernization,”

as did other later developments in the cultures and societies outside of Europe. “Modern-

izing” social changes were transforming almost all parts of the world by the early twentieth

century. Somewhat later, in the decades after 1950, Europeans and other social analysts

around the globe began to speak of “developed” countries, in comparison

with which many regions were seen as “less developed” or “developing.”

There also came to be a broad category of nations that constituted a so-called

Third World. This diffuse Third World had no specifi c geographical iden-

tity, but the term referred to developing countries that were outside the European-American

and Soviet-Russian spheres of direct infl uence during the geopolitical confl icts of the later

twentieth century. All such terms were somewhat imprecise, but they represented efforts to

deal with the same complex historical reality, namely, a bifurcation between “modern” and

The “Third World”

75. Imperialism: Its Nature

and Causes

76. The Dissolution

of the Ottoman Empire

77. The Partition of Africa

78. Imperialism in Asia:

The Dutch, the British,

and the Russians

79. Imperialism in Asia:

China and Europe

80. The Russo-Japanese War

and Its Consequences

Chapter emblem: British soldiers in southern Africa during the Boer War, 1899–1902 (Fox Photos/

Getty images)

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Chapter 16 Europe’s World Supremacy, 1871–1914644

“traditional” societies, or between rich countries and poor ones, or between industrialized

and less industrialized nations, or between the powerful and the weak.

For the fi rst time in human history, by 1900, it was possible to speak of a world civiliza-

tion. Although retaining important differences in languages, culture, and social practices, all

countries were drawn into a world economy and a world market. The attributes of political

and economic modernity were much the same everywhere—modern science, modern weap-

ons of warfare, machine industry, fast communications, public education, effi cient taxation

and law enforcement, and modern public health, sanitation, and medicine.

But not all peoples participated in this global evolution on equal terms. It was the

Europeans, or those building European-style industrial economies on other continents,

who reaped the greatest rewards. Elsewhere, tribal societies and massive old civilizations

alike began to come apart, reacting to the pressures of modern economic and social

changes. Scientifi c ideas changed ways of thinking everywhere, as they had in Europe. In

India, China, or Africa local industries often suffered, and many people found it harder

than ever to subsist even at a low level. The building of railways in China, for example,

threw boatmen, carters, and innkeepers out of work. In India, the hand spinners and weav-

ers of cotton could not compete in their own villages with the machine-made products of

Lancashire. In parts of Africa, tribal groups that had lived by owning herds of cattle, mov-

ing from place to place to obtain grazing lands, found European farmers or plantation or

mine owners occupying their country and were often forced by the European colonial law

to give up their migratory habits. Peoples of all races began to produce for export—rubber,

raw cotton, jute, petroleum, tin, gold—and hence were exposed to the rise and fall of world

prices. A depression in one part of the global economy tended to become a world depres-

sion, dragging all down alike.

Imperialism, or the European colonialism of the late nineteenth cen-

tury, may be somewhat narrowly defi ned as the government of one people

by another. As a specifi c form of political control, European imperialism

proved to be transitory, weakening and disappearing in this form after the

Second World War. But the broader economic and cultural aspects of the colonial systems

continued to infl uence “postcolonial” societies long after they regained their political inde-

pendence. Imperialism and empire-building became a new nineteenth-century phase in the

worldwide spread of the industrial and scientifi c civilization that had originated in Europe’s

“inner zone.” That it was not the last phase of such expansion became clear as the twentieth

century unfolded. The subordinated peoples, forcibly introduced to European economic and

cultural systems by imperialism, came to see a need for modernizing and industrializing

their own countries and for using the methods or resources of European science, technol-

ogy, and capital; but they wished to get rid of imperialists, govern themselves, and control

the conditions under which modernization and borrowing should take place. In opposition

to European empires, subject peoples began to assert ideas learned from Europe—ideas of

liberty and democracy, and of an anticapitalism that passed easily into socialism. Many

such ideas were derived from the French and American revolutions, or from Marxism, or

from the whole modern history of Europe itself; but these ideas were transformed or chal-

lenged as they entered into the political and cultural traditions of other civilizations.

The present chapter deals only with the imperialist phase of this global transforma-

tion. By one of the ironies of history, the imperialist rivalries of the European powers,

while representing Europe’s world supremacy, also contributed to the disaster of the First

World War, and so to the collapse of such political and economic supremacy as Europe

had enjoyed.

Imperialism

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64575. Imperialism: Its Nature and Causes

75. IMPERIALISM: ITS NATURE AND CAUSES

European civilization had always shown a tendency to expand. In the Middle Ages Latin

Christendom spread by conquest and conversion to include the whole area from Spain to

Finland. Then came the age of overseas discoveries and the founding of early modern colo-

nial empires, whose expansion and confl icts affected the balance of power within Europe

throughout the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries and whose most far-reaching conse-

quence was the gradual “Europeanization” of the Americas. At the same time European

culture spread among the upper classes of Russia. The fi nal defeat of Napoleon in 1815,

however, left only one of the old colonial empires standing in any strength, namely, the

British. For 60 years after the Napoleonic wars there were no signifi cant colonial rivalries

among the major European powers. In many circles there was an indifference to overseas

empires. Under principles of free trade, it was thought unnecessary to exercise political

infl uence in areas in which one did business. During these years, however, the French took

control of Algeria, the British strengthened their Indian Empire, the Dutch developed Java

and the neighboring islands more intensively, and the Western powers “opened” Japan and

began to move into the coastal territories of China. Among these various colonial inter-

ventions, the French occupation of Algeria may have had the most signifi cant infl uence

within a European society. The French army waged a series of brutal military campaigns

in the 1830s and 1840s to suppress strong Muslim opposition to colonization; and a stream

of immigrants began to fl ow from France into the Algerian towns and countryside that

the army gradually brought under French control. Napoleon III viewed France’s expan-

sion across North Africa as another opportunity to demonstrate his own imperial grandeur,

which he asserted in the course of two highly publicized trips to Algeria during the 1860s.

But the French conquest of Algeria and the development of European colonies in Asia did

not lead to overt imperial confl icts among Europeans, and there was no systematic imperial

program, doctrine, or “ism.”

Rather suddenly, about 1870 or 1880, colonial questions came again to the fore—

driven in part by the rising power of the recently consolidated German Empire and French

reactions to the loss of Alsace and Lorraine after the Franco-Prussian War. In the short

space of two decades, by 1900, the advanced industrial countries partitioned most of the

earth among themselves. A world map by 1900 showed their colonial possessions in some

nine or ten colors.

The New Imperialism

The new imperialism differed both economically and politically from the

colonialism of earlier times. The older empires had been maritime and mer-

cantile. European traders in India, Java, or south China had simply pur-

chased the wares brought to them by local merchants as produced by local

methods. They operated on a kind of cash-and-carry basis. European governments had

few direct territorial ambitions in Asia beyond the protection of way stations and trading

centers. To these generalizations America, the Philippines, and Australia had been excep-

tions. The societies in these areas of the world had neither native states that Europeans

respected, nor native industries in which Europeans were interested. Europeans had there-

fore developed territorial claims, invested capital, brought in their own methods of produc-

tion, and often imported enslaved labor, especially in the then-booming sugar islands of

the West Indies.

New imperialism

vs. old colonialism

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Chapter 16 Europe’s World Supremacy, 1871–1914646

The new imperialism changed the earlier patterns of European economic and political

involvements in Asia and Africa. Europeans were no longer content simply to purchase what

local merchants provided. They wanted goods of a kind or in a quantity that preindustrial

handicraft methods could not supply. They moved into the so-called “backward” countries

more thoroughly. They invested capital in them, setting up mines, plantations, docks, ware-

houses, factories, refi neries, railroads, river steamships, and banks. They built offi ces,

homes, hotels, clubs, and cool mountain resorts for European offi cials and visitors. Taking

over the productive economic life of the country, they transformed large elements of the

local population into the wage employees of foreign owners and so introduced the class

problems of industrial Europe in a form accentuated by racial differences. Or they lent

money to non-European rulers—the khedive of Egypt, the shah of Persia, the emperor of

China—to enable them to hold up their tottering thrones or simply to live with more pleasure

and magnifi cence than they could from their usual revenues. Europeans thus developed a

huge fi nancial stake in governments and economic enterprises outside their own nations and

commercial networks within Europe.

To secure these investments, and for other reasons, in contrast to what had happened

under the older colonialism, the Europeans now aspired to political and

territorial domination. Some areas became outright colonies, directly gov-

erned by European states and their appointed government offi cials. Others

became protectorates: here the native chief, sultan, bey, rajah, or prince

was maintained and guaranteed against internal upheaval or external con-

quest. A European “resident” or “commissioner” usually told him what to do, thereby

protecting European interests through a kind of indirect rule. In other regions, as in China

or Persia, where no single European state could make good its claims against the others,

they arranged to divide the country into “spheres of infl uence,” each European power hav-

ing advisory privileges and investment and trade opportunities within its own sphere. The

sphere of infl uence was the vaguest of all forms of imperial control; supposedly, it left the

country independent, but each “sphere” of outside infl uence undermined the sovereignty

or local power of the state in which it was established.

An enormous differential opened up, about 1875, between the power of European and

non-European states. Queen Elizabeth had dealt with the Great Mogul of the Indian sub-

continent with genuine respect, at least in part because his revenues in the early seven-

teenth century were some 20 times greater than those of the English monarchy. Even

Napoleon had pretended to regard the shah of Persia as an equal. Then came the Industrial

Revolution in Europe, iron and steel ships, heavier naval guns, and more accurate rifl es.

Democratic and nationalist movements produced large states and unifi ed European peo-

ples who gave service and fi nancial support to their governments. Seemingly endless

wealth, with modern administration, allowed European governments to tax, borrow, and

spend without apparent limit. The modern nation-states loomed as enormous power com-

plexes without precedent in the world’s history. At the same time it so happened that all

the principal non-European empires were in decay. They were receiving a minimum of

support from their own subjects. As in the eighteenth century when the disintegration

of the Mogul Empire had enabled the British to take over India, so in the nineteenth century

the political weakness and vulnerabilities of the sultan of Turkey, the sultan of Zanzibar,

the shah of Persia, the emperor of China, and the shogun of Japan made European inter-

vention remarkably easy. Only the Japanese were able to revolutionize their government in

time to ward off imperialist penetration. Even the Japanese, however, were restricted by

early treaties that controlled their tariff policies until after 1900.

Political and

territorial domination

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647

So great was the difference in the sheer mechanics of power that usually

a mere show of force allowed the Europeans to impose their will. A garrison

of only 75,000 troops long held India for the British. Numerous sporadic lit-

tle wars were constantly fought—Afghan wars, Burmese wars, Zulu wars—

which affected local populations but which passed unnoticed by Europeans in the home

country. Such wars might be compared to the operations of the United States army against

the Indians of the western plains, but they did not become true national wars or national

military mobilizations. The Spanish-American War of 1898 and the Boer War of 1899 were

also wars of colonial type, fought between entirely unequal parties. Often a show of naval

strength was enough to gain European control over a new territory. It was the classic age of

the punitive bombardment. In 1856 the British consul at Guangzhou, to punish acts of vio-

lence against Europeans in southern China, called upon the local British admiral to bombard

that Chinese city. In 1863 the British bombarded the Japanese province of Satsuma, and in

1864 an allied force including Americans bombarded Choshu—precipitating revolution in

Japan. Similarly, Alexandria was bombarded in 1882 and Zanzibar in 1896. The usual con-

sequence of such “gunboat diplomacy” was that the local ruler signed a treaty, reorganized

the government, or accepted a European (usually British) adviser.

Europeans impose

their will

European access to colonial territories in the period of the “new imperialism” often depended on the construction of new railroads, which carried both people and goods into and out of the interior districts of the European colonies. This picture portrays the arrival of a locomotive that a team of elephants pulled into central India when a new railroad track was built in the region of Indore. (The New York Public Library/Art Resource, NY)

75. Imperialism: Its Nature and Causes

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Chapter 16 Europe’s World Supremacy, 1871–1914648

Incentives and Motives

Behind the new imperial aggressiveness lay many pressures and motives. The Europeans

could not maintain for themselves the style of life to which they had become accustomed

except by bringing the rest of the world within their economic orbit. But many other cultural

and social concerns also drove Europeans into distant, unknown places. Catholic and Protes-

tant groups sent growing numbers of missionaries to remote regions, where they sometimes

got into trouble with the local people and where some missionaries were even killed. Public

opinion in the home countries, soon learning of such events by ocean cable, might clamor

for political action to suppress such outbreaks of anti-Christian violence. Similarly, scien-

tists required geographical expeditions for their observations and discoveries. Wealthy per-

sons traveled more, now that travel was so easy; they hunted tigers or elephants, or simply

went to see the sights. It seemed only reasonable at the close of the nineteenth century that

all Europeans wherever they might choose to go should enjoy the personal security and the

orderly legal procedures that colonial governments sought to provide for the Europeans who

visited or lived in their overseas empires.

Economically, European life required material goods, many of which

only tropical regions could supply. Even the working classes now drank tea

or coffee every day. After the American Civil War Europe relied for its cot-

ton increasingly on Africa and the East. Rubber and petroleum became

staple needs. The lowly jute, which grew only in India, was used to make burlap, twine,

carpets, and the millions of jute bags employed in commerce. The lordly coconut tree had

innumerable common uses, which led to its intensive cultivation in the Dutch Indies. Vari-

ous parts of it could be eaten, or manufactured into bags, brushes, cables, rope, sails, or

doormats or converted into coconut oil, which in turn went into the making of candles,

soap, margarine, and many other products.

Industrial countries also attempted to sell their own products, and one of the reasons

given by imperialists, in support of imperialism, was the urgent necessity of fi nding new

overseas markets. The industrialization of Germany, the United States, Japan, and other

countries, after about 1870, meant that they competed with each other and with Great

Britain for foreign trade. A slow decline in prices after 1873 meant that a business fi rm had

to sell more goods to turn over the same amount of money. Competition became more

intense. The advanced industrial countries, as we have seen, raised tariffs to keep out each

other’s products. It was therefore argued that each industrialized nation must develop a

colonial empire, an area of “sheltered markets,” as the phrase went in England, in which

the home country would supply manufactured goods in return for raw materials. The idea

was to create a large self-suffi cient trading unit, embracing various climates and types of

resources, protected if necessary from outside competition by tariffs, guaranteeing a mar-

ket for all its members and wealth and prosperity for the home country.

This phase of imperialism is often called neomercantilism, because it

revived in substance the mercantilism, or national economic systems, of the

sixteenth to the eighteenth centuries.

Purely fi nancial considerations also characterized the new European

imperialism. Money invested in the so-called “backward” countries by the

close of the nineteenth century brought a higher rate of return than if

invested in the more industrialized ones. For this there were many reasons, including the

cheap labor of non-European regions, the heavy and unsatisfi ed demand for non-European

products in wealthier countries, and the greater risk of losses in areas where European

Raw materials

Neomercantilism

The profi t motive

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649

ideas of law and order did not prevail. By 1900 western Europe and the northeastern

United States were equipped with their basic industrial apparatus. Their railway networks

and fi rst factories were built. Opportunities for investment in these countries became stabi-

lized. At the same time, these countries were accumulating capital that was available for

new investments. In the midcentury most exported capital was British-owned. By the close

of the century more French, German, American, Dutch, Belgian, and Swiss investors were

investing or lending outside their own borders. In 1850, most exported capital went to

build up Europe, the United States, Canada, Australia, or Argentina. By 1900 more of it

was going to undeveloped regions in other parts of the world. This capital was the property

of individual small savers or of large banking combinations. Investors preferred “civi-

lized” political control over the parts of Asia, Africa, or Latin America in which their

railroads, mines, plantations, government loans, or other investments were situated. Hence

the profi t motive, or desire to invest “surplus” capital, promoted imperialism.

This analysis was put forward by critics of the global economic system

such as the English socialist J. A. Hobson, who wrote an infl uential book on

imperialism in 1903, and later by Lenin, in his Imperialism, the Highest Stage of World Capitalism, written in 1916. They ascribed imperialism pri- marily to the accumulation of surplus capital and condemned it on socialist

Socialist critics

Europeans often described their colonial empires as systems that advanced a “civilizing mis- sion.” This “mission” consisted (in the European view) mainly of promoting European meth- ods of education, commerce, labor, and legal justice, all of which provoked both resistance and adaptations among colonized peoples. This image from a late nineteenth-century British newspaper showed a missionary teaching African men in Nyasaland (Malawi) to prepare European-style bread, but it also carried a typical European message about the benevolent purposes of imperialism. (Images of Empire/Universal Images Group via Getty Images)

75. Imperialism: Its Nature and Causes

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Chapter 16 Europe’s World Supremacy, 1871–1914650

grounds. Hobson argued that a change in the domestic economy of the industrialized

nations would remove the main motive for imperialism: if more of the national income

went to workers as wages, and less of it to capitalists as interest and dividends, or if wealthy

people were more heavily taxed and the money used for social welfare, there would be no

surplus of capital and no real imperialism. Because the working class, if this were done,

would also have more purchasing power, it would be less necessary to look endlessly for

new markets outside the country. But the surplus capital explanation of imperialism was

not entirely convincing. That investors and exporters were instrumental in the rise of impe-

rialism was very true, and yet it was more doubtful that imperialism arose essentially from

the capitalists’ pressure to invest abroad. Perhaps even more basic was Europe’s need for

imports—only by enormous imports could Europe sustain its dense population, complex

industry, and high standard of living. It was the demand for such imports—cotton, cocoa,

coffee, copper, and the like drawn from the colonies—that made investment in the colo-

nies fi nancially profi table. Moreover, non-Europeans themselves often asked for the

capital, glad though the European lenders were to lend it at high rates. In 1890 this might

mean merely that a shah or sultan wanted to build himself a new palace, but the need of

non-Europeans for Western capital was basic, nor was it to decline in later times. Lastly,

the imperialism of some countries, notably Russia and Italy, which had little capital and

few modern-type capitalists of their own, could not reasonably be attributed to pressure for

lucrative foreign investments.

For the British, however, the capitalistic incentive was of great importance. We have

seen how the British, in 1914, had $20 billion invested outside Great Britain, a quarter of

all their wealth. About half, or $10 billion, was invested in the British Empire. Only a tenth

of French foreign investments was in French colonies. French investment in the colonial

world in general, however, including Egypt, Suez, South Africa, and Asia in addition to

the French colonies, amounted to about a fi fth of all French foreign investments. Only an

infi nitesimal fraction of German foreign investment in 1914 was in German colonies,

which were of slight value. A fi fth of German foreign investments, however, was placed in

Africa, Asia, and the Ottoman Empire. These sums are enough to suggest the economic

pressures upon the European governments to assert political infl uence in

Africa, Turkey, or China. In addition, French investors had in 1914 a huge

stake in the Russian Empire. Russia, an imperial power with respect to

adjoining countries in the Balkans and Asia, occupied an almost semicolo-

nial status with respect to western Europe. The tsardom until its demise in

1917, not unlike the Ottoman sultanate or the Qing dynasty in China, increasingly depended

on foreign loans, predominantly French. The French in 1914 had lent over $2 billion to

Russia, more than to all colonial regions combined. For these huge outlays the motivation

was at least as much political as economic. The French government urged French banks to

buy Russian bonds. The aim was not merely to make a profi t for bankers and small inves-

tors but to build up and hold together a military ally against Germany.

Politics went along with economics in the whole process of imperialist expansion.

National security, both political and economic, was as important an aim as the accumula-

tion of private wealth. So, too, was the growing concern in many quarters

over the economic security and welfare of the working classes. The ideas

of the British statesman Joseph Chamberlain (1836–1914) illustrated how

these motives entered into imperialist thinking.

Chamberlain, father of Neville Chamberlain, who was to be prime minister of Britain

in the years just prior to the Second World War, began as a Birmingham manufacturer, the

Foreign economic

interests in Russia

Joseph Chamberlain

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651

type of man who a generation before would have been a staunch free trader and upholder

of laissez-faire. Discarding the old individualism, he came to believe that the national

community should and could take better care of its members and that the British commu-

nity (or empire) could advance the welfare of Britons. As mayor of Birmingham he intro-

duced a kind of municipal socialism, including public ownership of utilities. As colonial

secretary from 1895 to 1903, he preached Britain’s need for “a great self-sustaining and

self-protecting empire” in an age of rising international competition—a worldwide British

trading area, developed by British capital, which would give a secure source of raw materi-

als and food, markets for exports, and a steady level of profi ts, wages, and employment.

Chamberlain saw with misgivings the tendencies toward independence in Canada,

New Zealand, and the Australian Commonwealth. For these dominions he favored

complete self-government, but he hoped that, once assured of virtual political indepen-

dence, they would reknit their ties with each other and with Great Britain. Britain and its

dominions, in Chamberlain’s view, should pool their resources not only for military defense

but also for economic well-being. The dominions had already levied tariffs against British

manufacturers in order to build up their own. Chamberlain urged the dominions to charge a

lower duty on British wares than on the same wares coming from foreign countries. In

return, he even proposed that Great Britain adopt a protective tariff, so that it might then

favor Canadian or Australian goods by offering them a lower rate. His plan was to bind the

empire together by economic bonds, making it a kind of global tariff union, or system of

“imperial preference.” Because Britain imported mainly meat and cereals from the domin-

ions, Chamberlain was obliged to recommend a tariff even upon these products—to

“tax the people’s food,” repudiating the very ark of the covenant of Free Trade upon

which the British economy had rested for half a century. The proposal was rejected. Cham-

berlain died in 1914, his goal unaccomplished. But after the First World War the British

Empire, or Commonwealth of Nations, followed closely the proposals he

had mapped out.

Whether the economic welfare and security of the European working

classes was advanced by imperialism is still debated. It is probable that the

worker in western Europe did gain some economic benefi ts from imperial-

ism. Socially conservative imperialists were joined in this belief by thinkers of the extreme

Left. Marx himself, followed by Lenin, thought that the European worker obtained higher

real wages through the infl ow of low-priced colonial goods and commodities. To Marxists

this was unfortunate, for it gave European workers a vested interest in imperialism, made

the European proletariat “opportunistic” (i.e., unrevolutionary), and blocked the formation

of a true international world proletariat of all races.

Another imperialist argument much heard at the time held that European countries

must acquire colonies to which surplus population could migrate without altogether aban-

doning the native land. It seemed unfortunate, for example, that so many Germans or

Italians emigrating to the United States should be lost to the fatherland. This argument was

purely specious. No European country after 1870 acquired any colony to which European

families in any numbers wished to move. The millions who were still leaving Europe

continued to go mainly to the Americas, where in the circumstances no European colony

could be founded.

The competitive nature of the European state system introduced other almost exclu-

sively political features to the new imperialism. The European states sought constantly to

guard their security against each other. They wanted to keep some kind of balance among

themselves, in the overseas world as in Europe. Hence, as in the scramble for Africa, one

Working classes and

imperialism

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Chapter 16 Europe’s World Supremacy, 1871–1914652

government often hurriedly annexed territory simply for fear that another might do so fi rst.

Or again, colonies came to have an intangible but momentous value in symbolism

and prestige. To have colonies was a criterion of national greatness. It was

the sign of having arrived as a Great Power. Britain and France had held

colonies for centuries. Therefore the new powers formed in the 1860s—

Germany, Italy, Japan, and in a sense the United States—came to believe

they had to have colonies also.

Imperialism as Crusade

Imperialism arose from the commercial, industrial, fi nancial, scientifi c, political, journal-

istic, intellectual, religious, and humanitarian impulses of Europe compounded together. It

was an outthrust of the modern European civilization that had forcefully asserted its power

and infl uence around the world for almost four centuries; and its advocates claimed that it

would bring civilization and enlightenment to those who still sat in darkness. Faith in “mod-

ern civilization” had become a kind of substitute religion. Imperialism was its crusade.

Diplomacy and

imperialism

This photograph of Indian servants bringing tea to British offi cials suggests the social hier- archy and the pattern of cross-cultural relations in colonial India at the end of the nineteenth century. (Popperfoto/Getty Images)

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65376. The Dissolution of the Ottoman Empire

So the British spoke of the White Man’s Burden; the French, of their mission civilisa- trice; the Germans, of diffusing Kultur; the Americans, of the “blessings of Anglo-Saxon protection.” Social Darwinism and popular anthropology taught the racist doctrine that the

white races were “fi tter” or more gifted than the peoples of other races. Some imperialists

gave less emphasis to “race” as a rationale for empires, turning instead to cultural justifi ca-

tions for the colonization of distant peoples and societies. T hey argued that the “backward-

ness” of non-European societies was due to historic, and hence temporary, causes but that

for a long period into the future the more “civilized” Europeans must keep a guardianship

over their darker protégés. The psychology of imperialism contained strands of idealism

and humanitarianism as well as greed, and numerous Europeans went to the

colonies to build schools or hospitals rather than railroads or mines. Young

people of good family left the pleasant lands of Devonshire or Poitou to

spend long and lonely years in hot, isolated places, sustained by the thought

that they were advancing the work of humanity. They saw their colonial labors as contribu-

tions to a humanitarian campaign to spread modern education; to put down slave raiding,

torture, and famine; to combat degrading superstitions; to fi ght the diseases of neglect and

fi lth; and to promote the ideas and institutions of legal justice (even though colonial legal

systems did not treat the colonizers and native people in the same way). But these accom-

plishments, however real, went along all too obviously with European self-interest and

were expressed with unbearable complacency and gross condescension to other cultures

and the larger part of the global human population. As Rudyard Kipling wrote in 1899

(in his exhortation to Americans after their taking over of the Philippines):

Take up the White Man’s burden— Send out the best ye breed— Go bind your sons to exile, To serve your captives’ need; To wait in heavy harness, On fl uttered folk and wild— Your new-caught sullen peoples, Half devil and half child.

Responding to such cultural beliefs and the imperial interventions that they encour-

aged, the colonized peoples in Asia and Africa would soon launch anticolonial movements

that reshaped modern global history and also changed the views of imperialism within

Europe itself. During the decades of new imperial expansion before 1914, however, people

living in the newly colonized societies were generally unable to resist the European powers

or to counter the popular fusion of nationalism and imperialism in most European cultures.

Imperialism thus repeated similar themes and practices throughout the modern world, but

we must now discuss some regional examples to see how the European ascendancy evolved

somewhat differently in specifi c places, confl icts, and cross-cultural exchanges.

76. THE DISSOLUTION OF THE OTTOMAN EMPIRE

The Ottoman Empire in the 1850s

Among all the diverse parts of the non-European world, the Ottoman, or Turkish, Empire

was the nearest to Europe and the most directly connected to modern European history. The

major European states had a long history of relations with the Ottoman Empire because of

Trade missions

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Chapter 16 Europe’s World Supremacy, 1871–1914654

Historical Interpretations and Debates

The Rationales and Paradoxes of Modern European Imperialism

Historians have often emphasized the economic and geo-political interests that contributed to the late nineteenth-century resurgence of European imperialism, but the cultural justifi cations for this “new imperialism” have also attracted historical attention in recent decades. Many Europeans believed that colonization brought humanitarian assistance and “civilizing prog- ress” to non-European peoples, even as the imperial systems deprived them of political and economic independence. Compare the ways in which Antoinette M. Burton and Christopher L. Miller analyze the cultural presuppositions and paradoxes that emerged when British feminists and French liberals supported imperialism in Asia and Africa.

Antoinette M. Burton, “The White Woman’s Burden: British Feminists and ‘The Indian Woman,’ 1865–1915” (1992) [A] sense of national and racial superiority

based on Britain’s imperial status was an

organizing principle of Victorian culture.

Middle-class Victorian feminists

generally shared these assumptions. . . .

Despite both their genuine concern for the

condition of Indian women and the feminist reform activities of prominent Indian

women during this period, many middle-

class British feminists viewed the women

of the East not as equals but as unfortunates

in need of saving by their British feminist

‘sisters.’ . . .

Liberal bourgeois feminism in Britain

contained a number of premises which made

it . . . compatible with and easily fueled by

an imperial ethos. First, both were grounded

in the idea of superiority, rooted in the

ostensibly feminine virtues of nurturing,

child-care, and purity. . . .

Secondly, feminist argument, no less

than imperial apologia, was preoccupied with

race preservation, racial purity, and racial

motherhood. . . .

Lastly, feminism, like imperialism,

was structured around the idea of moral

responsibility. . . . Feminism and female

reform ideology virtually dictated the

existence of dependent clients on whom

to confer aid, comfort, and (hopefully) the

status of having been saved. . . .

British women [therefore] felt they

had a special responsibility toward Indian

women. . . .

Christopher L. Miller, “Unfi nished Business: Colonialism in Sub-Saharan Africa and the Ideals of the French Revolution” (1994) [A] certain pattern of forced and dubious

reconciliation [developed] between the ideals

of the [French] Revolution and France’s

nationalistic and imperialistic tendencies. The

pattern is clear: the ideals of the Revolution,

by the very fact that they are taken to be

immutable and immortal, are pressed into

service as justifi cations for various policies

of domination and exploitation . . . French

colonialism passes [in the nineteenth century]

for the exportation of the ideals of 1789. This idea, as paradoxical as it may seem,

served as the most compelling rationale for

colonialism. . . . [T]he ideal of liberty, as

it was translated into nineteenth-century

contexts, became a banner of liberalism under which ardent republicans . . . advocated

colonial conquest and rule. . . .

Because France embodies an ideal

[of liberty], France can only do good by

advancing its own self-interests in the

world: idealism and nationalism will both be

served. . . .

Once France is understood to be a force

for moral good, and so long as France’s

ideals are not put into question, France can

behave as it wants. . . .

A discourse of enlightenment and

progress was the key to the success of

colonialism; a misguided idealism, referring

to either the mission civilisatrice or to national prestige, seems to have held the fl oor

in the [French] debate on colonialism. . . .

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655

its geographical proximity and also because of its strategic dominance in the eastern Medi-

terranean. The empire still extended in the nineteenth century from Hungary and the Balkan

Peninsula to the south Russian steppes and from French-controlled Algeria to the Persian

Gulf. The empire was not at all like a modern (or imagined) European nation-state. Immense

in extent, it was a complex social and political system within which people belonged to

diverse and often overlapping religious communities. Most of its people were Muslim,

including both orthodox Muslims and reformist sects such as the Druzes and the Wahhabis;

some were Jews who had always lived in the Middle East; many were Christian, principally

Greek Orthodox and Armenian, who had also always lived there. The Turks were the ruling

class and Islam was the dominant religion. Only Muslims, for example, could serve in the

army; non-Muslims were known as raya, the “fl ock” or “herd”—they paid the taxes. Per- sons of different religion lived side by side, each under the laws, courts, and customs of his

or her own religious group. Religious offi cials—patriarchs, bishops, rabbis, imams,

ulemas—were responsible to the Turkish government for their own people, over whom

therefore they had a great deal of authority.

Western Europeans had their own special rights. Roman Catholic clergy, living

mainly in Palestine, looked to the pope in religion and to France for a mundane protector.

European merchants enjoyed the regime of the “capitulations,” or special

rights granted by the Ottoman government in numerous treaties going back

to the sixteenth century. By the capitulations Turkey could not levy a tariff

of more than 8 percent on imported goods. Europeans were exempt from

most taxes. Cases involving two Europeans, civil or criminal, could be settled only in a

court held by a European consul under European law. Disputes between a European and an

Ottoman subject were settled in Turkish courts, but in the presence of a European observer.

The Ottoman Empire, in short, lacked the European idea of nationalism or national

unity. European ideas of sovereignty and a uniform law for all its peoples were also absent,

as was the idea of the secular state, or of law and citizenship separated from religion. More

generally, the empire had fallen behind modern industrial nations in its scientifi c, mechani-

cal, material, humanitarian, and administrative achievements.

Ottoman Turkey came to be called the “sick man of Europe,” and its

declining power led to what Europeans referred to as the “Eastern Ques-

tion.” Since the loss of Hungary in 1699 the Ottoman Empire had entered on

a long process of territorial disintegration (see map, p. 661). That the empire

The capitulations

The “sick man of

Europe”

Sources: Antoinette Burton, “The White Woman’s Burden: British Feminists and ‘The Indian Woman,’ 1865–1915,” in Nupur Chaudhuri and Margaret Strobel, eds., Western Women and Imperialism: Complicity and Resistance (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1992), pp. 137–139, 152; Christopher L. Miller, “Unfi n- ished Business: Colonialism in Sub-Saharan Africa and the Ideals of the French Revolution,” in Joseph Klaits

and Michael H. Haltzel, eds., The Global Ramifi cations of the French Revolution (New York and Cambridge: Woodrow Wilson Center Press and Cambridge University Press, 1994), pp. 107, 112–113, 117, 126.

Antoinette M. Burton . . . (contd. . . .) Historians must not lose sight of the fact

that feminism(s) are and always will be as

much quests for power as they are battles for

rights. Nineteenth-century feminists sought

empowerment by a variety of means—

education, the vote, welfare legislation—not

the least of which was by allying their cause

with British imperial rule.

Christopher L. Miller . . . (contd. . . .) The French colonial system . . . built

itself over a myth of the Revolution, while

suppressing the truth that . . . you can’t

dominate and liberate at the same time.

76. The Dissolution of the Ottoman Empire

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Chapter 16 Europe’s World Supremacy, 1871–1914656

lasted another two centuries was mainly due to the European balance of power. But by the

1850s the empire was falling away at the edges. Russia had advanced in the Crimea and the

Caucasus. Serbia was autonomous, Greece was independent, and Romania was recognized

as a self-governing principality. The French occupied Algeria. A native Arab dynasty, the

Sauds, of the Wahhabi reform sect, ruled over much of Arabia. A former Turkish governor

of Egypt, Mehemet Ali, had established his family as hereditary rulers or “khedives” in

the Nile Valley. Notwithstanding these changes, the Ottoman Empire in the 1850s was still

huge. It encompassed not only the Turkish or Anatolian Peninsula (including Armenia and

territory south of the Caucasus) but also the central portion of the Balkan Peninsula from

Constantinople to the Adriatic where many Christians of Slavic nationality lived, Tripoli

(as Libya was then called) in North Africa, and the islands of Crete and Cyprus. Egypt and

Arabia, though autonomous, were still under the nominal suzerainty of the sultan.

The Crimean War of 1854–1856 opened a new phase in Ottoman history as in that of

Europe. We have seen how this war was followed by the consolidation of great nation-

states in Europe and how the United States, Canada, and Japan consolidated or modernized

themselves at the same time. Ottoman Turkish reformers tried to do the same between

1856 and 1876.

In the Crimean War the Turks were on the winning side, but the war

affected them as it affected Russia, the loser. Collaboration with the major

European powers exposed the Ottoman Empire’s military and political

weakness and pointed to the need for better organization. The outcome of

the war was taken to prove the superiority of the political systems of England and France.

It was therefore on western European lines that Turkish reformers wished to remodel. It

was not merely that they wanted to defend themselves against another of the periodic wars

with Russia. They wished also to avoid being periodically saved from Russia by the coun-

tries of western Europe, a process which if continued could lead only to French or British

control of Turkey.

Attempts at Reform and Revival, 1856–1876

In 1856 the Ottoman government issued the Hatt-i Humayun, the most far-reaching Turk-

ish reform edict of the century. Its purpose was to create an Ottoman national citizenship

for all persons in the empire. It abolished the civil authority of religious hierarchs. Equality

before the law was guaranteed, as was eligibility to public offi ce without regard to reli-

gion. The army was opened to Christians and Muslims alike, and steps were even taken to

include both in nonsegregated military units. The edict announced a reform of taxes, secu-

rity of property for all, abolition of torture, and reform of prisons. It promised to combat

the chronic evils of graft, bribery, and extortion by public offi cials.

For 20 years there were serious efforts to make the reform decree of 1856 a reality.

European and liberal ideas circulated freely, gaining new infl uence in Ottoman society.

Newspapers were founded. Writers called for a national Turkish revival, threw off the old

Persian style in literature, composed histories of the Ottomans, and translated

Enlightenment-era French authors such as Montesquieu and Rousseau. Foreign loans

entered the country. Railroads joined the Black Sea and the Danube. Abdul Aziz (1861–

1876), the fi rst sultan to travel to Europe, visited Vienna, London, and the great Paris

world’s fair of 1867. But powerful resistance developed against such radical changes. Also,

the best efforts of the Turkish reformers miscarried. There were too few Turks with skill or

experience in the work required, and there was too much dependence on borrowed money.

In 1874 the Ottoman government, having recklessly overborrowed, repudiated half its debt.

The Crimean War

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657

A new and more determined reforming minister, Midhat Pasha,

goaded by opposition and desperate at the weight of inertia, deposed Abdul

Aziz in 1876, deposed the latter’s nephew three months later, and set up

Abdul Hamid II as sultan. The new sultan at fi rst briskly went along with

the reform movement, proclaiming a new constitution in 1876. It declared the Ottoman

Empire to be indivisible, and promised personal liberty, freedom of conscience, freedom

of education and the press, and parliamentary government. The fi rst Turkish parliament

met in 1877. Its members earnestly addressed themselves to reform. But they reckoned

without Abdul Hamid, who in 1877 revealed his true intentions. The sultan got rid of

Midhat, packed off the parliament, and threw away the constitution.

Repression after 1876

Abdul Hamid reigned for 33 years, from 1876 to 1909. For all this time he lived in fear and

isolation, fi ghting ferociously against modernizing forces that he did not understand. The

sultan feared that tampering with the old Ottoman way or introducing the

new science and constitutional forms of government might lead to ruin. He

dreaded any moves to check his own whim or power. He was thrown into

a panic by Turkish reformers, who became increasingly driven to terrorist

acts in the face of his opposition. Driven away by Abdul Hamid, some tens of thousands of

Young Turks, the activists of the reform era before 1876, or their children and successors,

lived in exile in Paris, London, or Geneva, plotting their return to Turkey and vengeance

upon Abdul the Damned. The sultan was frightened also by agitation among his non-

Turkish subjects. Nationalist Armenians, Bulgars, Macedonians, and Cretans defi ed and

taunted the Ottoman authorities, which responded with the Bulgarian massacres of 1876

and the Armenian massacres of 1894. These horrible butcheries of thousands of peasants

Abdul Hamid’s fears

Abdul Hamid II

The Ottoman Sultan Abdul Hamid II came to power in alliance with a move- ment for constitutional reform, but he soon became an autocratic ruler who violently suppressed his political oppo- nents, massacred ethnic minorities, and resisted all the currents of modern social and cultural life that were coming into his empire from Europe. He is pictured here in his royal attire, sitting alone in the isolated style that characterized his long reign. (Bettmann/Corbis)

76. The Dissolution of the Ottoman Empire

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Chapter 16 Europe’s World Supremacy, 1871–1914658

by Ottoman troops came as a shock to Europeans, who were no longer accustomed to such

violence within their own nation-states. Last, and with good reason, Abdul Hamid feared

the imperialist European powers whose expansionist ambitions focused increasingly upon

his dissolving empire.

A thoroughly reformed, consolidated, and modernized Ottoman Empire was

far from what the European governments desired. They might wish for humanitarian

reforms in Turkey, for more effi ciency and honesty in Turkish government and fi nance,

and even for a Turkish parliamentary system. Such demands were eloquently expressed

by liberals like Gladstone in England. But no one in Europe wanted what Turkish

reformers wanted, a reinvigorated Ottoman Empire that could deal with Europe politi-

cally as an equal.

The Russo-Turkish War of 1877–1878: The Congress of Berlin

In Russia, since the time of Catherine II in the eighteenth century, many had dreamed of

installing Russian power on the shores of the Bosporus. Constantinople they called Tsar-

igrad, the Imperial City, which (in their view) Orthodoxy was to liberate from the infi del.

Crusading motives, in this nationalist and imperialist age, now reappeared

anew in the form of Pan-Slavism. This doctrine was preached by some of

Russia’s leading nineteenth-century intellectuals, including the novelist

Dostoevski and the publicist Danilevsky. Danilevsky’s Russia and Europe, published in 1871, predicted that Russia would enter into a long war with Europe, which

would then be followed by the creation of a grand federation of the East. The new east-

ern federation would include Slavs, Greeks, Hungarians, and parts of Ottoman Turkey

under Russian control. This type of Pan-Slavism was patronized by the Russian govern-

ment because it diverted attention from internal and revolutionary troubles. As for the

Slav peoples of the Ottoman Empire, they were willing to use Russian Pan-Slavism as a

means of combating their imperial Turkish rulers. Insurrection against the Ottoman

Empire broke out in the Balkans during the mid-1870s. In 1877 Russia declared war,

launching a military campaign against the Ottoman Empire for the sixth time in a

hundred years.

The British, who had fought Russia to protect Ottoman interests in 1854, were pre-

pared to do so again. A number of recent developments added to their apprehension. The

Suez Canal was completed in 1869, and the Canal’s location within the Ottoman Empire

restored the Middle East to its ancient position as a crossroads of world trade. In 1874

Benjamin Disraeli, a Conservative and an imperialist, became prime minister of Great

Britain. By a sudden coup in the following year he was able to buy up, from the almost

bankrupt ruling khedive of Egypt, 44 percent of the shares of the Suez Canal Company. In

1876, in a dramatic affi rmation of imperial splendor, he had Queen Victoria take the title

of empress of India. British commercial and fi nancial interests in India and the Far East

were growing, and the Suez Canal, of which the British government was now the princi-

pal stockholder, was becoming the economic lifeline of the empire. But

the Ottoman state, and hence the whole Middle East, was now collapsing

before the Russians, whose armies advanced rapidly through the Balkans,

reached Constantinople, and forced the Turks to sign a treaty in 1878, the

treaty of San Stefano. By this treaty Turkey ceded to Russia strategic ter-

ritory on the south side of the Caucasus Mountains, gave full independence to Serbia and

Romania, promised reforms in Bosnia, and granted autonomy to a new Bulgarian state,

Pan-Slavism

The treaty of San

Stefano

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659

whose boundaries were to be very generously drawn and which was expected to fall under

Russian domination. England seethed with a popular clamor for war against Russia. The

outcry gave the word “jingoism” to the language:

We don’t want to fi ght, but by jingo, if we do, We’ve got the men, we’ve got the ships, we’ve got the money too.

It now appeared that the Ottoman Empire’s inability to fend off foreigners from its

borders would precipitate at least an Anglo-Russian and possibly a general European war.

But war was averted by diplomacy. Seeking to avert the extension of Russian infl uence

in the eastern Mediterranean, Bismarck assembled a congress of all the European great

powers at Berlin in 1878. Once again Europe attempted to assert itself as a unity, to restore

life to the much-battered Concert of Europe by dealing collectively with

the common problem presented by the Eastern Question. The congress

in effect initiated a partition of the Ottoman domain, thereby keeping peace

in Europe at the expense of the Ottoman government in Turkey. The Euro-

pean balance now both protected and dismembered the Ottoman Empire at

the same time.

The Russians were persuaded at Berlin to give up the recent treaty of San Stefano,

but they held on to the territory they had gained below the Caucasus Mountains and

confi rmed the independence of the Serbs and Romanians. Montenegro, too, was recog-

nized as an independent state. Bulgaria was divided into three zones with varying

degrees of autonomy, all still nominally within the Ottoman Empire. At the same time,

Austria-Hungary gained a new role in the Balkans. It was authorized by the congress to

“occupy and administer” Bosnia (but not annex it) in compensation for the spread of

Russian infl uence along the borders of the Ottoman Empire. The Ottoman government

also ceded Cyprus to Britain, thereby giving the British a large island from which they

could further ensure the security of the Suez Canal. The French were told that they

might expand from Algeria into Tunisia. To the Italians (who counted least) it was more

vaguely hinted that they might later be allowed to expand across the Adriatic into Alba-

nia. As Bismarck put it, “the Italians have such a large appetite and such poor teeth.”

Germany took nothing. Bismarck said he was the “honest broker” with no interest except

in European peace.

The treaty of Berlin in 1878 dispelled the immediate threat of war.

It expanded the western European presence in the Mediterranean and

reduced the territories of the Ottoman Empire, but it left many continu-

ing problems that would contribute to the causes of the First World War

36 years later. Neither the Balkan nationalists nor the Russian Pan-Slavs

were satisfi ed. All politically minded Turks, both the reactionaries like Abdul Hamid

and the revolutionary Young Turks in exile, were indignant that peace had been made by

further dismemberment of their empire. The demonstrated weakness of Ottoman Turkey

was a constant temptation to all of the European powers. In the years before 1914 the

German government gained new infl uence within the Ottoman Empire. Germans and

German capital entered Turkey, projecting, and partially completing, a great Berlin to

Bagdad railway to be accompanied by the exploitation of Middle Eastern resources. The

railroad was all but completed before 1914 despite the protests and representations of the

Russians, the French, and particularly the British, who saw it as a direct threat to their

empire in India.

Weakness of

Ottoman Empire

The continuing

Turkish problem

76. The Dissolution of the Ottoman Empire

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Chapter 16 Europe’s World Supremacy, 1871–1914660

Egypt and North Africa

For Egypt, technically autonomous within the Ottoman Empire, the 1850s and 1860s were

a time of reform, economic development, and deepening connections with Europe. The

Egyptian government modernized its administration, court system, and property law, coop-

erated with the French in building the Suez Canal, encouraged shipping on the Red Sea,

and let British and French interests construct railroads. Between 1861 and 1865, while the

American South was unable to export raw cotton to Europe, the annual export of Egyptian

cotton rose from 60 million to 250 million pounds. Egypt more than Turkey was drawn into

the world market, and the khedive of Egypt became more interested in European culture.

The khedive Ismail built a new opera house in Cairo, where, in 1871, two years after the

opening of the Suez Canal, Verdi’s Aïda, written at the khedive’s request, was resound- ingly performed for the fi rst time.

Such improvements cost a good deal of money, borrowed in England and France. The

Egyptian government was soon in fi nancial straits, only temporarily relieved by the sale of

canal shares to Disraeli. By 1879 matters reached the point where

European banking interests forced the abdication of Ismail and his replace-

ment by Tewfi k, who also became thoroughly enmeshed by his creditors.

This led to nationalistic protests within Egypt, headed by Colonel Arabi. In

a pattern later repeated in many parts of the colonial world, the nationalists opposed both

the foreigners and their own government, charging it with being a mere front for European

interests. Arabi’s movement, an early expression of Arab nationalism, led to riots in

Alexandria, where Europeans had to fl ee aboard British and French shipping in the harbor.

A British squadron then unceremoniously bombarded Alexandria. British troops (the

French, though invited to take part, refused) disembarked in 1882 at Suez and Alexandria,

defeated Arabi, and took Tewfi k under their protection. The military intervention of 1882

was said by the British to be temporary, but British troops remained there for a long time,

through two world wars and well into the twentieth century, not leaving until 1956. Egypt

thus became a British “protectorate,” which would become a common form of European

British intervention

The Suez Canal, which was com- pleted in 1869, quickly became Britain’s all-important lifeline to its Asian Empire and a busy crossing point for the expand- ing global economy. This picture shows the ship of Edward, Prince of Wales, entering the canal in 1875, when the prince was en route to India. (Otto Herschan/Getty Images)

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661

imperial control. The British protected the khedive from discontent within

his own country, from the claims of the Ottoman court, and from the rival

attentions of other European powers.

The French strenuously objected when the British stayed on so long in Egypt. The

French had long made the greatest investments in the Middle East, and persons in that

region who were interested in European cultures overwhelmingly preferred French lan-

guage and culture to English. The French, harboring deep suspicion of British designs in

Egypt, compensated themselves by building a North African empire farther west. They

continued to expand their control of Algeria, assumed a protectorate over Tunisia, and

Egypt as protectorate

THE DISSOLUTION OF THE OTTOMAN EMPIRE, 1699–1914 Beginning in 1699, with the loss of Hungary to the Austrian Habsburgs, the Ottoman Empire entered upon a long process of territorial disintegration. Dates shown are those at which terri- tories dropped away. In general, regions lost before 1815 were annexed directly by Austria and Russia. European territories lost in the nineteenth century emerged as independent states, owing to the rise of nationalism and rivalries among the great European powers. In the Arab world, reaching from Algeria to the Persian Gulf, regions lost before the First World War were absorbed into European colonial empires; those lost at the end of the First World War were mostly assigned to France and Britain as mandates, but after the Second World War these regions became independent Arab states and the Republic of Israel. A Turkish nationalist movement blocked European attempts to partition Turkey after the First World War, and in 1923 the Turks estab- lished the Turkish Republic.

To Austria

To Russia

Became Independent

To Britain

To Italy

Ottoman Empire 1914 0 100 200 miles

Dniester R .

Pru th

R.

A driatic

Sea

A e g

e an

Sea M e d i t e r r a n e a n S e a

B l a c k S e aDa nub

e R.

Don R.

Ha lys

R .

Euphrates R .

T igris

R

.

L. Van

AUSTRIA

HUNGARY 1699

WALLACHIA 1829

CRIMEA 1783

M O

LD A

V IA

1829

BESSA RA

BIA

1812

RUMELIA 1913

GREECE 1830

BANAT 1718BOSNIA

1878

ALBANIA 1913

GALICIA

RUSSIAN EMPIRE

TRANSYLVANIA

MONTENEGRO

SERBIA 1878

1792 1783

1783

1829

1878

BULGARIA

DOBRUJA

KURDISTAN

PERSIA

KARSITALY

RO M

A N

IA 1817

1774

CRETE (Autonomous, 1898)

DODECANESE I. 1912

CYPRUS 1878

DARDANELLES

BO SPO

RUS

ARABIAPA LE

ST IN

E

MESOPOTAM

IA

O T

T O

M A N

E M P I R E

CAUCASUS

ARMENI A

Vienna

Budapest

Athens Smyrna

Constantinople

Odessa

Sinope Sofia

Sarajevo

Skopje

Salonica

Sevastopol

Angora

Adalia

Rostov

Batum

Adana

Sivas

Erzerum

Aleppo

Mosul

Mediterranean Sea

Black Sea

Red Sea

TUNISIA 1881

TRIPOLI (LIBYA) 1912

EGYPT 1882

ALGERIA 1830

HEJAZ 1916

YEMEN

SAU

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RA BIA

1699 –1923

To Austria

To Russia

To France

To Britain

To Italy

Became Independent

League of Nations Mandate to Britian and France 1920

Turkish Republic 1923

76. The Dissolution of the Ottoman Empire

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Chapter 16 Europe’s World Supremacy, 1871–1914662

began to penetrate Morocco. Upon these latter French advances the British, and soon the

Germans, looked with unmitigated disfavor. Rivalry for the spoils of the Ottoman Empire

thus created enmity among the Great Powers of Europe and constituted a fertile source of

the war scares, fears, and diplomatic maneuvers that preceded the First World War.

The dissolution of the Ottoman Empire became indistinguishable from the whole

chronic international crisis before 1914. It is enough to say here, to keep the fate of the

Ottoman Empire in focus, that Abdul Hamid’s frantic defensive policies

came to nothing and that the Young Turks won control of the Ottoman

government in 1908. They forced the restoration of the constitution of 1876

and introduced many reforms. Finally, when all Europe became involved

in war in 1914, Russia again declared war on Ottoman Turkey, and the Turks came into

the war on the side of Germany, whose political and economic infl uence in the empire had

been steadily growing. During the war, with British aid, the Arabs detached themselves

from the empire, eventually becoming independent Arab states. Egypt, too, ended all con-

nections with the empire. In 1923 a Turkish republic was proclaimed. It was confi ned to

Constantinople (henceforth called Istanbul) and the Anatolian Peninsula, where the bulk

of the Turkish people lived. The new republic proceeded to undergo a thorough nation-

alist and secular revolution. Other areas of the pre-1914 Ottoman Empire were divided

into various territorial “mandates” and states, whose instabilities and subsequent confl icts

would have far-reaching effects in the Middle East, North Africa, Europe, and the wider

world down to the twenty-fi rst century.

77. THE PARTITION OF AFRICA

South of Mediterranean Africa lay the Sahara desert, and south of that lay sub-Saharan

Africa, of which Europeans knew so little that they called it the “Dark Conti-

nent.” Africa is so enormous that even the part south of the Sahara is almost

as large as the whole continent of North America. For centuries Europeans

knew only its coasts—the Gold Coast, Ivory Coast, Slave Coast—to which

from an inexhaustible interior had come shackled processions of captive

enslaved people, as well as the swelling waters of great rivers, like the Nile, Niger, and

Congo, whose sources in the unknown hinterland were a subject of romantic speculation.

The people were black, but diverse both in physique and in culture, and speaking almost a

thousand languages. They had been working with iron for more than 2,000 years, and they

were adept in many arts, such as bronze sculpture, gold artifacts, weaving, basketry, and the

making of ceremonial masks with strikingly symbolic or abstract patterns. Along the north-

ern fringe some had converted to Islam, but mostly they adhered to other traditional religions

that had emerged and evolved within the diverse cultural histories of African societies.

They lived mainly in villages in tribal communities, engaged in agriculture or moving

herds of cattle from place to place. But great cities or agglomerations had also arisen, from

Timbuktu in the north with its old caravan trade across the Sahara, to the vast complex

of buildings at Zimbabwe in the south, which was already in ruins when the Europeans

fi rst saw it. There had also been extensive kingdoms whose memory was preserved, in the

absence of writing, by specially trained narrators from one generation to the next. But these

kingdoms had disappeared or declined by the nineteenth century. They had been weak-

ened by intertribal wars, by the slave trade that set Africans against one another to satisfy

the demand of outsiders, or by demographic causes that are now diffi cult to trace. Hence

Africa, somewhat like the Ottoman Empire and China, met the assault of the Europeans at

Young Turks

The “Dark

Continent”

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66377. The Partition of Africa

a time when its powers of resistance were reduced. Before the mid-nineteenth century there

were no permanently resident non-African communities south of the Sahara except for a

few Arabs who had been on the east coast since the seventh century and the Europeans who

had been at the Cape of Good Hope since 1652. In the Union of South Africa, when it was

established in 1910, some 1.1 million whites lived along with about 5 million blacks.

The Opening of Africa

Missionaries, explorers, and individual adventurers fi rst opened this world

to Europe without much assistance or interest from national governments.

The historic pair, Livingstone and Stanley, well illustrate the drift of early

European activities in sub-Saharan Africa. Before the new imperialist age,

in 1841, the Scot David Livingstone arrived in southeast Africa as a medi-

cal missionary. He gave himself to humanitarian and religious work, with some occasional

trading and much travel and exploration, but without political or economic aims. Explor-

ing the Zambesi River, he was the fi rst white man to look upon the Victoria Falls. Fully

at home in inner Africa, safe and on friendly terms with its native people, he was quite

content to be left alone. But the hectic forces of modern civilization sought him out. Word

spread in Europe and America that Dr. Livingstone was lost. The New York Herald, to manufacture news, sent the roving journalist H. M. Stanley to fi nd him, which he did in

1871. Livingstone soon died, deeply honored by the Africans among whom he worked.

Stanley was a man of the new era. Seeing vast economic possibilities in Africa, he went to

Europe to solicit backers. In 1878 he found someone with the same ideas, who happened

to be a king, Leopold II, king of the Belgians.

Leopold, for all his royalty, was at heart a commercial promoter. China, Formosa, the

Philippines, and Morocco had in turn attracted his fancy, but it was the central African

basin of the Congo that he decided to develop. Stanley was exactly the man he needed, and

the two founded at Brussels, with a few fi nanciers, an International Congo Association in

1878. It was a purely private enterprise; the Belgian government and people had nothing

to do with it. Europeans considered all Africa inland from the coasts to be, like America in

the time of Columbus, a terra nullius, without government and claimed by nobody, wide open to the fi rst Europeans or other outsiders who might arrive. Stanley, returning to the

Congo in 1882, in a year or two concluded treaties with over 500 chiefs, who received a

few trinkets or a few yards of cloth for putting their marks on his mysterious European

papers and accepting the blue-and-gold fl ag of the Congo Association.

Because the “Dark Continent” still lacked the clear boundaries of delineated inter-

nal frontiers, no one could tell how much territory the Association might soon cover by

these methods. The German explorer Karl Peters, working inland from Zanzibar, was also

signing treaties with the chiefs of East Africa. The Frenchman Brazza, departing from

the west coast and distributing the tricolor in every village, was claiming territory on the

Congo River that was larger than all of France. The Portuguese meanwhile aspired to join

their long-held coastal colonies of Angola and Mozambique into a trans-African empire,

for which they sought a generous portion of the interior. Britain supported Portugal. In

every case the home governments in Europe still hesitated to deepen their involvement

in an Africa that remained almost totally unknown to even the most adventurous European

travelers. But the governments were pushed on by small organized minorities of colonizing

enthusiasts, and they faced the probability that if they missed the moment for colonization

it would be too late.

Livingstone and

Stanley

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Chapter 16 Europe’s World Supremacy, 1871–1914664

Bismarck, who personally thought African colonies an absurdity but was sensitive to

the new political pressures, called another conference at Berlin in 1885, this time to submit

the African question to international regulation. Most European states, as well as the United

States, attended. The Berlin conference had two goals: to set up the territo-

ries of the Congo Association as an international state, under international

auspices and restrictions; and to draft a code governing the way in which

European powers wishing to acquire African territory should proceed.

The Congo Free State, which in 1885 took the place of the Interna-

tional Congo Association, was not only an international creation but also embodied in

some ways what became known in the next century as international mandates or interna-

tional (European-controlled) trusteeships for non-European peoples. The Berlin confer-

ence specifi ed that the new state should not be the colony of any power, including Belgium,

but delegated its administration to Leopold. It drew the boundaries, making the Congo

Free State almost as large as the United States east of the Mississippi, and it added certain

specifi c provisions: the Congo River was internationalized, persons of all nationalities

should be free to do business in the Congo state, there should be no tariff levied on imports,

and the slave trade should be suppressed. Leopold in 1889 reassembled the signatory pow-

ers in a second conference, held at Brussels. The Brussels conference took further steps to

root out the slave trade, which remained a stubborn though declining evil, because the

Muslim societies lagged behind Europe and the Americas in abolishing slavery. The Brus-

sels conference also undertook to protect the rights of the local people, correct certain glar-

ing abuses, and reduce the traffi c in liquor and fi rearms.

But all this effort at internationalism failed because Europe had no international

machinery by which the hard daily work of enforcing general agreements could be car-

ried out. Although slavery was banned, Leopold went his own way in the

Congo. His determination to make it commercially profi table for his own

benefi t led him to unconscionable abuses. Europe and America demanded

rubber, and the rubber trees of the Congo were at the time one of the world’s

few sources of supply. The Congo people, already affl icted by the diseases and weakening

effects of a lowland equatorial climate, could be made to fulfi ll assigned quotas of rub-

ber sap only by inhumanly severe coercion. Leopold and his agents, some of whom were

African, and the managers of the concessions he leased out extorted forced labor from the

native population, compelling them to meet impossible quotas under brutal conditions,

with the resulting deaths of thousands. The rubber trees meanwhile were destroyed without

any plans for replacement.

Leopold, by ravaging its resources and virtually enslaving its people, was able to draw

from the Congo a handsome income and to amass a personal fortune. He nevertheless

could not make the entire enterprise profi table and needed more investment capital for

further development. He therefore borrowed from his own government in 1889 and 1895

in return for giving the government the right to annex the Congo in 1901. The Belgian

parliament turned down the opportunity that year, but beginning in 1904 public outrage

mounted after European press revelations of the scandalous atrocities in the Congo. A con-

certed campaign compelled the Belgian government in 1908 to take the Congo over from

Leopold, who died the following year. The Congo Free State became the Belgian Congo,

a Belgian colony. Under the Belgian government’s administration the worst excesses of

forced labor and other abuses were ended, even though the Congo continued to attract

investments from Europeans and other outsiders.

The Berlin conference

of 1885

The Belgian Congo

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665

The Berlin conference of 1885 had also laid down certain rules for imperial claims of

African territories—a European power with holdings on the coast had prior rights in the

hinterland; occupation must not be on paper only through drawing lines on a map, but must

consist in real occupation by administrators or troops; and each power must give proper

notice to the others as to what territories it considered its own. A wild scramble for “real

occupation” quickly followed. In 15 years almost the entire continent was “occupied” by

the various European nations. The sole exceptions were Ethiopia, and, technically, Liberia,

founded in 1822 as a colony for emancipated American slaves and virtually a protectorate

of the United States.

Everywhere a variant of the same process was repeated. First would appear a handful

of white men, bringing their inevitable treaties—sometimes printed forms. To get what they

wanted, the Europeans commonly had to ascribe powers to a tribal chief that by the customs

of the tribe he did not possess—powers to convey sovereignty, sell land, or grant mining

concessions. Thus the Africans were baffl ed at the outset by unfamiliar European legal

conceptions. Then the Europeans would build up the position of the chief to whom they had

ascribed new powers. This enhancement of a local leader’s position was essential for the

colonizing process because the Europeans themselves had no infl uence over the people.

Workers in the Congo were forced to remove particles of wood and fi ber from the rub- ber that was harvested for export to Europe and America. This picture of workers, which was published in 1909, shows both the tedious physical labor in the rubber industry and a common Western image of Africans in the era of Euro- pean colonialism. (Mary Evans Picture Library/The

Image Works)

77. The Partition of Africa

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Chapter 16 Europe’s World Supremacy, 1871–1914666

T he collaboration with tribal chiefs led to the widespread system of “indirect rule,” by

which colonial authorities acted through and expanded the existing social

and political hierarchies. There were many things that only the chief could

arrange, such as security for isolated Europeans, porter services, or gangs of

workmen to build roads or railroads.

Labor was the overwhelming problem. For pure slavery Europeans now had an abhor-

rence, and they abolished it wherever they could. But the Africans, so long as they lived

within the traditional social customs and values of their own communi-

ties, did not react to European economic plans like the free wage earner

postulated in European business and commercial theories. They had little

expectation of individual gain and almost no use for money. They thus

seemed to work only sporadically by European standards, disdaining the continuous and

tedious labor that Europeans wanted them to perform. The result was that Europeans all

over Africa resorted to forced labor, thereby disrupting the social communities that most

Africans valued more than the very low wages of European companies. For road build-

ing, colonial offi cials forced workers to contribute their labor to construction systems that

resembled the French corvée before the Revolution. A local chief would often be required to supply a quota of able-bodied men for a certain length of time, and frequently he did

so gladly to raise his own importance in the eyes of the Europeans. More indirect meth-

ods were also used. The colonial government might levy a hut tax or a poll tax, payable

only in money, for which the African would have to seek a job. Or the new government,

once installed, might allocate so much land to Europeans as private property (another

foreign conception) that the local tribe could no longer subsist on the lands that remained

to it. Or the whole tribe might be moved to a reservation, like the displacement of Indians

in the United States. In any case, while the women tilled the fi elds or tended the stock

at home, the men would move away from their communities to take jobs under Euro-

pean control for infi nitesimal pay. The men then lived in compounds, far from family and

tribal kindred; they became demoralized; and the labor they gave, untrained and unwilling,

would scarcely have been tolerated in more industrialized societies. In these circumstances

everything was done to uproot the Africans, and little was done to benefi t them or to pro-

tect the social systems in which they had lived before the Europeans arrived.

Conditions began to improve in the twentieth century as a more professional or

enlightened colonial administration was gradually built up. Some colonial offi cials even

came to serve as buffers or protectors of the local peoples against social abuses or the

intruding white man’s economic interests. Throughout the colonial era many European

offi cials believed that part of the ethos of imperialism was to put down slavery, tribal

warfare, superstition, disease, and illiteracy. Slowly a “Europeanized” class of Africans

developed in the various colonial societies—chiefs and the sons of chiefs, Catholic priests

and Protestant ministers, warehouse clerks and government employees. Young men from

Nigeria or Uganda appeared as students at Oxford, the University of Paris, or universi-

ties in the United States. These students increasingly resented both the exploitation and

paternalism of the colonial systems. They showed signs of turning nationalistic, like their

counterparts in the Ottoman Empire and Asia. Although they usually wanted to develop

the economies, infrastructures, and schools in their own societies, they wanted such

developments to evolve at a pace and for a purpose of their own, and with methods that

recognized the value of their own cultural traditions. As the twentieth century progressed,

nationalism in Africa grew more vocal, more intense, and more forceful in challenging the

European powers.

“Indirect rule”

The labor problem

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667

Friction and Rivalry between the Powers

Meanwhile, in the 15 years from 1885 to 1900, the Europeans in Africa came danger-

ously near to open blows. The Portuguese annexed huge domains in Angola

and Mozambique. The Italians took over two barren tracts, Italian Somalil-

and and Eritrea on the Red Sea. They then moved inland, in quest of more

imposing possessions, to conquer Ethiopia and the headwaters of the Nile.

The colonial race in

Africa

PRECOLONIAL AFRICA: SITES AND PEOPLES This map shows Africa before colonization by the Europeans in the nineteenth century. It does not refer to a particular date or to particular kingdoms that the Europeans displaced. Names in blue designate important ancient or medieval centers, such as the Ghana and Mali empires, which no longer existed in modern times. Even the most extensive African kingdoms had indefi nite and shifting boundaries, which cannot be readily indicated on a map. “Bantu,” as used in the phrase “Bantu peoples,” refers to a large group of languages spoken from north of the Congo River to the southern African Coast. Concentrations of other language groups and peoples are also shown.

0 500 miles

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BORNU

ZIMBABWE RUINS

SONGHAI EMPIRE

GHANA MALI

MOROCCO

HAUSA

ASHANTI

DARFUR

KIKUYU

SAN (Bushmen)

KHOIKHOI (Hottentots)

SO M

A LI

TUNIS

ZANZIBAR

EGYPT

ETHIOPIA

A R A B S T A T E S

BENIN IBO

D A

H O

M E Y

S A H A R A D E S E R T

KALAHARI DESERT

S U D A N

G U I N E A

SW A

H IL

I L A

N G U AG

E

BU GA

ND A

B A

N T

U

P E

O P

L E

S

EUROPEAN COASTAL STATIONS SIN C E 15TH

C EN

TU R Y

A R

A B

C O

A ST

A L

SE

TT LE

M EN

TS

S IN

C E

7T H C

EN TU

RY

Timbuktu

Cape Town (Dutch Settlement, 1652)

77. The Partition of Africa

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African workers built the new European-owned mines that began sending valuable minerals around the world. The laborers in this picture are digging a new gold mine in southern Africa in the late 1880s. (Robert Harris/Hulton Archive/Getty Images)

Some 80,000 Ethiopians, however, defeated and routed 20,000 Italians in pitched battle

at Adowa in 1896. It was the fi rst time that Africans successfully defended themselves

against the forces of a European imperialist nation, and it discouraged invasion of Ethiopia

by the Italians (or other Europeans) for 40 years. Italy and Portugal, like the Congo Free

State and Spain (which retained a few vestiges of former days), were able to enjoy sizable

holdings in Africa because of mutual fears among the principal contenders. The principal

contenders were Great Britain, France, and Germany. Each preferred to have territory held

by a minor power rather than by one of its signifi cant rivals.

The Germans were latecomers in the African colonial race, which Bismarck entered

with reluctance. By the 1880s all the usual imperialist arguments were heard in Germany,

though most of them, such as the need for new markets, for emigration to overseas ter-

ritories, or for the investment of capital, had little or no application in tropical Africa. The

Germans established colonies in German East Africa and in the Cameroons and Togo on

the west coast, along with a desert area that came to be called German Southwest Africa

(where they ruthlessly suppressed the rebellious Herero people). It did not escape the

notice of German imperial planners that someday the Congo and the Portuguese colonies

might be joined with their colonies in a solid German belt across the African heartland.

The French controlled most of West Africa, from Algeria across the Sahara and the Sudan

to various points on the Guinea coast. They also occupied Obok on the Red Sea, and

after the Italian defeat in 1896 their infl uence in Ethiopia grew. French planners therefore

dreamed of a solid French belt across Africa from Dakar to the Gulf of Aden. The French

government in 1898 dispatched Captain J. B. Marchand with a small party eastward from

Lake Chad to hoist the tricolor far away on the upper Nile, in the southern part of the

Sudan, which no European power had as yet “effectively” occupied.

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669

The two presumptive east-and-west belts, German and French, were cut (presump-

tively) by a north-and-south belt, projected in the British imperial imagination as an “Africa

British from the Cape to Cairo.” From the Cape of Good Hope Cecil Rhodes pushed north-

ward into what was later called Rhodesia (now Zimbabwe). Kenya and Uganda in the mid-

continent were already under British control. In Egypt, a British protectorate since 1882, the

British began to support old Egyptian claims to the upper Nile. The fi rst venture proved a

disaster when in 1885 a British general popularly known as “Chinese Gordon” for previous

military successes in China, leading an Egyptian force, was killed by Muslim troops at

Khartoum. In the following decade British opinion turned imperialist in earnest. Another

British offi cer, General Kitchener (with a young man named Winston Churchill under his

command), again started southward up the Nile and defeated the local Muslims in 1898 at

Omdurman. He then pushed on further upstream. At Fashoda he met Marchand, who had

moved his small French force into this area on the White Nile tributary of the great river.

The ensuing Fashoda crisis brought Britain and France to the verge of

war. Already at odds over Egypt and Morocco, the two governments used

the encounter at Fashoda to force a showdown. It was a test of strength,

not only for their respective plans for all Africa but also for their rela-

tive position in all imperialist and international issues. Both at fi rst refused to yield. The

British virtually threatened to fi ght. The French, fearful of their insecurity against Germany

in Europe, at last decided not to take the risk. They backed down and recalled Marchand’s

expedition from Fashoda. A wave of hatred for the British swept over France.

The British no sooner won this Pyrrhic victory than they became involved in a major

confl ict at the other end of the African continent. In 1890 Cecil Rhodes had become prime

minister of the Cape Colony. He was a principal sponsor of the Cape-to-Cairo imperial

dream. Two small independent neighboring republics, the Transvaal and the Orange Free

State, stood in his way. Their people were Afrikaners—descendants of the Dutch who had

originally settled the Cape in the seventeenth century. After 1815, when England annexed

the Cape of Good Hope, they had made the “great trek” into the interior territory of the

Transvaal to escape from British rule. The Boers, as the English called them (from the

Dutch word for farmer), were simple, obstinate, and old-fashioned. They had strongly

opposed the British abolition of slavery, and they disliked fortune hunters, footloose

adventurers, mining-camp people, and other outsiders.

The discovery of diamonds and gold in the Transvaal brought the issue of outsid-

ers to a head. British capital and British people poured in. The Boers in the Transvaal

refused to pass legislation needed by the mining corporations and their employees. In 1895

Rhodes, attempting to precipitate revolution in the Transvaal, sent a party of armed irregu-

lars, under Dr. Jameson, a physician-turned-colonial administrator, over its borders. This

Jameson Raid was a failure, but in Europe a great cry went up against British bullying

of a small inoffensive republic. The German emperor, William II, dispatched a famous

telegram to Paul Kruger, president of the Transvaal, congratulating him on his driving off

the invaders “without having to call for the support of friendly powers,” that is, Germany.

Three years later, in 1899, the British Empire went to war with the two small repub-

lics. The South African (or Boer) War lasted until 1902 and provoked strong opposition

within Britain as the human and fi nancial costs steadily mounted. The British army sent

300,000 troops, who became bogged down in a guerilla war against elusive Boer fi ght-

ers. Facing an irregular adversary, the British resorted to brutal “search and

destroy” tactics that ravaged the country. They also gathered about 120,000

Boer women and children in concentration camps (a term that came into

common usage during this war), where at least 20,000 people died after

The Fashoda crisis

The South African

War

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Chapter 16 Europe’s World Supremacy, 1871–1914670

suffering in the harsh conditions of this confi nement. The Boers were eventually subdued

and brought within the British system, but their two republics were allowed to retain their

self-governing institutions. In 1910 the Transvaal and the Orange Free State were com-

bined with Cape Colony and Natal to form the Union of South Africa, which received

semi-independent status along the lines of the Dominion of Canada.

The Fashoda crisis and the Boer War, coming in rapid succession, revealed to the

British the bottomless depths of their unpopularity in Europe. All European governments

and peoples were pro-Boer; only the United States, involved at the time in a similar

AFRICA, 1914 The map shows the recognized colonial holdings of European nations in 1914. The insert sug- gests the general directions of European expansion about 1898. These expansionary pressures led to the Fashoda crisis in 1898 and the Boer War in 1899. In 1898 the British and German governments held secret discussions on the possible partitioning of the Portuguese colonies, but no such partitioning took place because the British greatly preferred to have the Portu- guese colonies remain in the hands of Portugal.

British

French

German

Italian

British

French

German

Lines of Political Pressure about 1898

0 500 miles

M e d i t e r r a n e a n S e a

R e

d Se

a

AT L A N T I C O C E A N

I N D I A N O C E A N

L. Chad

Ni ge

r R .

Suez Canal

N ile

R.

B lu

e N

il L. Tana

L. Victoria

L. Nyasa

W h ite

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Ubangi R. Co

ng o

R.

Za mb

ezi R.

L. Tanganyika

CANARY I. (Spain)

MADEIRA I. (Portugal) MALTA

(Britain)FRENCH MOROCCO

SENEGAL

TUNISIA ALGERIA

LIBYA EGYPT

ARABIA

ITALIAN SOMALILAND

RIO DE ORO (Spain)

RIO MUNI (Spain)

S A H A R A D E S E R T

FRENCH WEST AFRICA

NIGERIA

KAMERUN

BELGIAN CONGO

GERMAN

SOUTH-WEST

AFRICA

UNION OF

SOUTH AFRICA

ETHIOPIA

BRITISH EAST AFRICA

GERMAN EAST AFRICA

SUDAN

ANGLO- EGYPTIAN

GAMBIA

PORTUGUESE GUINEA

SIERRA LEONE

LIBERIA

IVORY C OAS

T

GOL D C

OA ST TO

GO

G U I N E A

C O A S T

S U D A N

FR EN

CH

E Q

U A

T O

R IA

L A

FR IC

A

ANGOLA (Portugal)

ZANZIBAR (Britain)

ERITREA

FRENCH SOM. BRITISH

SOM.

AD EN

(Br itai

n)

MADAGASCAR

UG AN

DA

NYASA- LAND

NATAL

TRANS- VAAL

BECHUANA- LAND

ORANGE FREE STATE

WALVIS BAY (Britain)

CAPE COLONY

CAPE OF GOOD HOPE

VICTORIA FALL

S X

M O

ZA M

BI Q

U E

(P or

tu ga

l)

R H

O D

E S IA

Gibraltar (Britain) Tangier

Libreville

Dakar

Alexandria Cairo

Omdurman Khartoum

Obok

Fashoda

Algiers

Adowa

Addis Ababa

Cape Town

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67178. Imperialism in Asia: The Dutch, the British, and the Russians

military conquest of the Philippines, showed any sympathy for the British. The British,

after the Boer War, began to rethink their international position, as will soon be seen.

As in the case of the Ottoman Empire, imperial rivalries between the

Great Powers over the spoils of Africa embittered European international

relations and helped prepare the way for the First World War. In Africa as

a whole, there was little territorial change after the Boer War, although in

1911 Italy took Libya from the Ottoman Empire. In 1914 the Germans were

blocked from access to their short-lived empire. Had the Germans won the First World

War, the map of Africa would probably have been greatly revised, but because they lost

it, the only change was to assign the German colonies, under international mandate, to the

French, British, and Belgians. With this change, and except for Italy’s ephemeral conquest

of Ethiopia in 1935, the political map of Africa remained divided by the lines that were

drawn during the brief years of colonial partition—until the spectacular and rapid end of

the European empires after the Second World War.

78. IMPERIALISM IN ASIA: THE DUTCH, THE BRITISH, AND THE RUSSIANS

The Dutch East Indies and British India

British India and the Dutch East Indies, in the half-century before the First World War,

became what the Europeans envisioned when they imagined their “ideal colonies.” They

illustrated the kind of empire that all imperialists would have wished to have, and a glance

Embittered

international relations

The British military campaign against the Transvaal and the Orange Free State between 1899 and 1902 was widely con- demned, in part because it was waged against descendants of seventeenth-century Dutch set- tlers (the Afrikaners or Boers) in South Africa; the suppres- sion of black Africans never evoked the same criticisms within Europe. This picture of British soldiers crossing a river suggests the scale and costs of the Boer War, which became especially notorious when the British interned Afrikaner women and children in con- centration camps, where thou- sands perished. (Fox Photos/Getty Images)

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Chapter 16 Europe’s World Supremacy, 1871–1914672

at them suggests the goal toward which European imperialism was moving and the system

that it was trying to create.

Whereas all countries of western Europe showed a surplus of imports,

receiving more goods from the rest of the world than they sent out, India

and the Dutch East Indies invariably, year after year and decade after

decade, showed a surplus of exports, sending out far more goods than they

took in. This export surplus was the hallmark of a profi table colonial area, geared closely

into the world market, with low purchasing power for the native population and kept going

by foreign investment and management. Both regions, in addition, were so large as to have

a good deal of internal business—commerce, insurance, banking, transportation—which

never appeared in the statistics for world trade, but which, being dominated by Europeans,

added immeasurably to their profi ts. Both had rich and varied natural resources, tropical in

character, so that they never competed with the products of Europe—though India even

before 1914 showed tendencies to industrialization. In both regions the colonized people

were adept and quick to learn the methods of modern economic and bureaucratic institu-

tions. But they were divided by religion and language, so that, once conquered, they were

relatively easy for Europeans to govern because they could not easily come together in a

united political movement.

Neither region before the First World War had any self-government at the highest lev-

els. Both were ruled by a civil service, honest and high-minded by its own lights, in which

the most infl uential and best-paying positions were reserved for Europeans.

Hence upper-class families in England and the Netherlands valued their

empires as fi elds of opportunity for their sons—somewhat as they had for-

merly valued an established church. In both India and Indonesia (as the

Dutch colony began to be named by anti-Dutch nationalists in the early

twentieth century) the governments were more or less benevolent despotisms, which, by

curbing warfare, plague, and famine, at least allowed the population to grow in numbers.

Java, with 5 million people in 1815, had 48 million in 1942. India’s population in the same

years grew from less than 200 million to almost 400 million. Finally, as the last virtue of a

European-defi ned perfect colony, no foreign power directly challenged the British in India

or the Dutch in their islands.

The Dutch in 1815 occupied little more than the island of Java itself. In the following

decades the British moved into Singapore, the Malay Peninsula, and north Borneo, and

made claims to Sumatra. The French in the 1860s entered Indochina. The Germans in the

1880s annexed eastern New Guinea and the Marshall and Solomon islands. Ultimately it

was the mutual jealousy of these three European powers that preserved the Dutch position.

The Dutch also took the initiative themselves. To forestall occupation by other Euro-

peans, and to put down native pirates and fi nd raw materials that the world demanded, the

Dutch spread their rule over the whole 3,000-mile extent of the archipelago. They created

an empire in place of the old chain of coastal trading posts and suppressed internal revolts

in 1830, 1849, and 1888; not till the twentieth century was northern Suma-

tra or the interior of Celebes brought under control. For some decades the

Dutch exploited their huge empire by a kind of forced labor, the “culture

system,” in which the authorities required farmers to deliver, as a kind of

tax, stated amounts of specifi c crops, such as sugar or coffee. After 1870 a freer system

was introduced. The Dutch also, as an important matter of policy, favored instruction in

the Malay and Javanese languages, not in Dutch. This preserved the native cultures from

the disintegration that could result from the imposition of European schooling, but at the

Export surplus

European colonial

rule

The “culture system”

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673

same time it meant that the more radical or destabilizing European ideas of nationalism

and democracy entered more slowly.

In India in 1857, the British faced a dangerous rebellion, which they

commonly called the “Indian Mutiny”, as if it had simply been a revolt of

undisciplined soldiers. The British army in India, with its “sepoys” (native

Indian troops), was the only organization through which Indians could exert

any collective pressure. The proportion of sepoys in Britain’s Indian army was high in 1857

(about fi ve-sixths) because units from Britain itself had been withdrawn for the Crimean

War and for action in China. Many Indians outside the army had been unhappy with British

policies for decades. Rulers had been conquered and dethroned. Landowners had lost their

property and been replaced by new owners more friendly to the British. Religious senti-

ments were infl amed. The British too obviously regarded Indian beliefs as wrong or even

repulsive; they had outlawed suttee, or widow burning, the ancient Hindu practice of a

widow burning herself to death on the funeral pyre of her deceased husband; suppressed the

Thugs, a small sect of holy assassins; and one British offi cer even declared that in ten years

the government would abolish caste. Many Hindus therefore saw the British as dangerous

opponents of their ancient religious traditions. Meanwhile, the Muslims were mobilized by

Wahhabi fundamentalism, a popular reform movement that sought to purify and defend the

religious practices of Islam. Mysterious propaganda circulated over India. It infi ltrated the

sepoys, announcing to Muslim soldiers that certain newly issued cartridges were greased

with the fat of a pig and to Hindus that the same cartridges were greased with the fat of a

cow. Because for Hindus the cow was sacred, and for Muslims to touch pork was profane,

there was much agitation among soldiers from both of India’s main religious groups. The

sepoys launched an uprising in the Ganges Valley; and with them the other injured interests,

including the fading Great Mogul and his court, also rose against the British.

The British put down the rebellion with much brutality, aided by the fact that western

and southern India took no part in it. But the uprising persuaded the British to a radically

new course of policy, pursued basically until the end of the Indian Empire

almost a century later. The British East India Company and the Mogul

Empire were both fi nally and forever done away with. British authorities

ruled directly, but the British concluded that they must rule India with and

through the Indians themselves, not against them. This in practice meant a collaboration

between the imperial power and the Indian upper classes. The British began to shelter

Indian vested interests. They supported the Indian landlords and became more indulgent

toward Indian “superstition.” Where before 1857, when they conquered an Indian state,

they had simply abolished it and incorporated its territories, after the Mutiny they kept the

remaining Indian states as protectorates. States existing in 1857, such as Hyderabad and

Kashmir and over 200 others, with their galaxy of rajahs and maharajahs, carried on to the

end of British rule in 1947. It was largely to provide a fi tting summit for this mountain of

Indian royalty that Queen Victoria was proclaimed empress of India in 1877.

India had been a considerable manufacturing country by preindustrial standards, Indian

merchants had once been important throughout the Indian Ocean, and before 1800 Indian

exports to Europe had included many textiles and other fi nished goods. The native crafts

collapsed before modern industrialism reinforced by political power. “India,” observed a

British expert in 1837, “can never again be a great manufacturing country, but by cultivat-

ing her connection with England she may be one of the greatest agricultural countries in

the world.” Free trade (made possible by military superiority, usually overlooked by the

economists) turned Britain into the world’s workshop and India into a supplier of raw

The “Indian Mutiny”

British rule in India

78. Imperialism in Asia: The Dutch, the British, and the Russians

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Chapter 16 Europe’s World Supremacy, 1871–1914674

materials. Indian exports in the latter part of the nineteenth century consisted increasingly

of raw cotton, tea, jute, oilseeds, indigo, and wheat. The British shipped their manufactures

in return. Business in India boomed; India came to have the densest railway network out-

side of Europe and North America. It is important to note, however, as a commentary on

European trade with colonies and poor countries that Britain in 1914 did far more trading

with the 6 million people of Australia and New Zealand than with the 315 million impov-

erished people of India.

The British, in contrast to the Dutch, decided in 1835 to favor instruction in English,

not in the native languages. The historian T. B. Macaulay, one of the commission to make

this recommendation, branded the Indian languages as vehicles of barbarous and unenlight-

ened ideas—a bar to progress. The British also, after the great Mutiny, admitted Indians to

the civil service and to governors’ councils—sparingly indeed, but more than the Dutch in

Indonesia. There were also many Indian businessmen. A class of “hybrid” Indian intel-

lectuals and government workers spoke perfect English, often after completing their

The great Sepoy Rebellion in 1857 among local troops in India shook the British Empire more profoundly than any other event of the nineteenth century. Although the Indian Mutiny (as the British called it) was eventually suppressed, this illustration suggests why the violence and bru- tality left bitter memories on all sides and why the British soon restructured the whole system by which they governed Indian society. (Hulton Archive/Getty Images)

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675

education in England. They demanded more of a role in the public affairs and governance of

their country. In 1885 the predominantly Hindu Indian National Congress was organized;

in 1906, the All-India Muslim League. M uslim separatism, while favored

by the British and sometimes even blamed upon them, expressed long-

existing religious identities, but these identities now became linked to new

nationalist political movements. Nationalism spread. It became increasingly

anti-British; and radical nationalism turned also against the Indian princes, capitalists, and

businessmen, as accomplices in imperialism, and so the new nationalism often took on

the color of socialism. In the period of the First World War, under nationalist pressure, the

British granted more representation to Indians, especially in provincial affairs. But the

movement toward self-rule was never fast enough to overcome the basic anti-British feeling

of the Indian peoples, and Indian nationalism grew rapidly after the First World War.

Confl ict of Russian and British Interests

While no outside power yet threatened the British in India, British statecraft discerned

in the northern sky a large cloud that was clearly approaching. The Russian Empire had

occupied northern Asia since the seventeenth century. About 1850 Russian pressure on

inner or central Asia resumed. It was a type of imperialism in which neither the demand for

markets nor for raw materials, nor for the investment of capital, counted for much. In these

matters Russia was itself in a semicolonial position with respect to the economies of west-

ern Europe. The Russians had, like the other European imperial powers, a desire to spread

Indian nationalism

This photograph of the future Indian national leader Jawaharlal Nehru indi- cates the kind of British education that many young Indians received during the imperial era. Nehru studied at Harrow School (where this picture was taken about 1905) and at Cambridge Univer- sity before joining Gandhi in the inde- pendence movement during the 1920s. He later served as the fi rst prime minis- ter of independent India from 1947 until his death in 1964. (Hulton-Deutsch Collection/Corbis)

78. Imperialism in Asia: The Dutch, the British, and the Russians

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Chapter 16 Europe’s World Supremacy, 1871–1914676

0 200 400 600 800 1,000 miles

S I B E R

H I M A L A Y A S

TRANS-SIBERIAN RAILROAD

SUMA

ANDAMAN IS. (Britain)

C a

sp ia

n S

e a

B l a c k

Se a

M e

d i

t e

r r

a n

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n S

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Suez Canal

Aral Sea

B a y o f B e n g a l

L. Balkhash

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s R.

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e n

ise y

R .

Ob R.

I N D I A N O C E A N

P ersian

G ulf

B rahma pu

traYEMEN

OMAN

BOKHARA 1868

BRITISH SPHERE,

1907

RUSSIAN SPHERE, 1907

A R

A B

I A

H E JA

Z AFGHANISTAN

SINKIANG

PERSIA

OTTOMAN

EMPIRE

I N D I A

BHUTAN NEPAL

BURMA (Britain, 1852, 1885)

MAL (Britain

SIAM

A F R I C A

R U S S I A N E M P I R

OUTER MONGOLIA (Autonomous, 1912 Russian Sp

C H I N

B R I T I S H I N D I A

INN E

KASHMIR 1846

PUNJAB

BALUCHISTAN 1883

1846

1873 1873

1881

1884

1885

(F YÜNNAN

T I B E T

CEYLON

1864

1895

1852

1826

1876

1854

1860-65

EUR OPE

ASIA

TehranBaghdad

Baku

Astrakhan

Constantinople

Cairo Jerusalem

Aden (Britain, 1839)

Mosul

Basra

Mecca

Merv

Kabul

Tashkent

Kashgar

Delhi

Calcutta

Lhasa

Bombay

Diu (Portugal)

Goa (Portugal)

Hyderabad

Karachi

Pondicherry (France) Karikal (France)

Madras

Yanaon (France)

Rangoon

Bangkok

Han

Chungkin

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Chita Irkutsk

Omsk Tomsk

Tobolsk Samara

Moscow

St. Petersburg Archangel

MANCHURIA

KOREA

JEHOL

SHANTUNG

Mukden Kinchow

Tientsin

Tsinan

Peking

Tsingtao

Taku

Chifu

Kiao-chow (Germany, 1898)

Wei-hai-wei (Britain, 1898)

Port Arthur DairenGulf of

Chili

Y e l l o w S e a

(Lease to Russia, 1898; Japan, 1905)

G ra

nd Ca

na l

GR EA

T W ALL

CRITICAL AREA, 1895–1905 0 100 200 miles

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677

IMPERIALISM IN ASIA, 1840–1914 The map shows boundar- ies and possessions as they appeared in 1914. During these years the British and Dutch fi lled out their hold- ings in India and the East Indies; and Britain moved into Burma. The Russians pressed southward from Siberia into Central Asia, founded Vladivostok in 1860, and entered Man- churia at the close of the century. The French built their empire in Indochina and the United States took control of the Philippines. The Germans, as late- comers, were confi ned to miscellaneous parts of the western Pacifi c. The Japa- nese won control of Korea and the island of Formosa (now Taiwan). Meanwhile all of the imperial powers obtained special rights and concessions in the coastal cities and other regions of China.

I A

HAINAN

BORNEO CELEBES

YAP

GUAM (U.S.A., 1898)

CAROLINE IS. (Germany, 1899)

MARIANA IS. (Germany, 1899)

FORMOSA (Japan, 1895) PESCADORES (Japan, 1895)

KAMCHATKA

ATRA

JAVA

RY U

K Y

U IS

.

NEW GUINEA

TIMOR

PELAU

SAKHALIN KURIL IS. (Japan, 1875)

KARAFUTO (Japan, 1905)

A LEU

TIA N

IS. (U

.S.A .,

1 8

6 7 )

S o u t h C h i n a S e a

E a s t C h i n a

S e a

an gt

se R.

P A C I F I C O C E A N

S e a o f J a p a n

S e a o f O k h o t s k

na R.

Am

ur R.

ikal

B e r i n g S e a

M ekong

R .

LAY STATES in, 1800, 1824)

FRENCH INDOCHINA

1884, 1907

D U T C H E A

S T I N

D I E

S

A U S T R A L I A

E

PHILIPPINES IS. (U.S.A., 1898, 1899)

JAPANESE EMPIRE

KOREA (Japan, 1905, 1910)

ALASKA (Purchased by U.S.A. from Russia, 1867)

Sphere)

A

Hong Kong (Britain, 1842) Maçao (Portugal, 1557)

Kwang-chow (Lease to France, 1898)

NE R M

ON GO

LIA

KAISER WILHELMSLAND (Germany, 1884)

KWANGSI (French Sphere)

SARAWAK 1888

BRITISH NORTH BORNEO

1888

JEHOL

MANCHURIA

ANN A M

MARITIME PROVINCE (Russia, 1868)

AMUR PROVINCE 1858

noi

Batavia

Manila

Peking Port Arthur (Japan, 1905)Tientsin

Hankow

Kiao-chow (Germany, 1898)

Nanking Ningpo

1842

Shanghai (Britain, 1842)

Saigon

Singapore (Britain, 1819)

Foochow Amoy

Canton (Britain, 1842)

g

Tokyo

Harbin

Vladivostok 1860

Khabarovsk

Mukden

a

Yakutsk

(Portugal, 1859) Darwin

78. Imperialism in Asia: The Dutch, the British, and the Russians

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Chapter 16 Europe’s World Supremacy, 1871–1914678

their type of civilization; but Russian expansion was distinctively political in that most of

the initiative came from the government rather than from business interests, nationalist

political parties, or religious groups. Russia was an icebound empire, craving warm-water

ports. It was a landlocked empire, so that whichever way it turned it had to move toward

one ocean or another. The ocean, however, was the domain of the major European powers,

and in particular the British.

In the large picture, Russia pushed by land against the Ottoman Empire, Persia, India,

and China, all of which the British (and others) reached by sea. In 1860, on the shores of

the Sea of Japan, the Russians founded Vladivostok, the farthest-fl ung of all Slavic cities,

whose name meant Lord of the East. But their advance in the midcentury was mainly in

the arid and thinly settled regions of western Asia. The British had already fought two

Afghan wars to keep Afghanistan as a no-man’s land between Russia and India. Contem-

poraries called the political and military rivalry between Britain and Russia in Central Asia

“the great game.” In 1864 the Russians took Tashkent in Turkestan. A decade later they

touched the borders of India itself but were kept away by an Anglo-Russian agreement,

which allotted a long tongue of land to Afghanistan and so separated British India and the

Russian empire by 20 miles.

Russian advances in Turkestan, east of the Caspian, increased the pressure on Persia,

which had long felt the same pressure west of the Caspian, where cities like Tifl is and

Baku, now Russian, had once been Persian. If Tifl is and Turkestan could

fall to the Russian Empire, there was no reason why Persia should not do so

next—except that Persia had a seacoast and so might also be available for

occupancy by the British. In 1864 a British company completed the fi rst

Persian telegraph as part of the line from Europe to India. Other British

investments and interests followed. Oil became important about 1900. In 1890, to bolster

the Persian government against Russia, the British granted it a loan—taking the customs in

Persian Gulf ports as collateral. In 1900 the Russian government granted the same favor,

making its own loan to Persia, and appropriating as security all Persian customs except

those of the Gulf. Clearly Persia was losing control of its own affairs, falling into foreign-

dominated zones, and turning ripe for imperial partition. A Persian nationalist revolution,

directed against all foreigners and against the subservient government of the shah, broke

out in 1905 and led to the assembly of the fi rst parliament but hardly settled

the question of Persian independence. In 1907 the British recognized a

Russian “sphere of infl uence” in northern Persia; the Russians, a British

sphere in the south (see map, pp. 676–677).

Imperial ambitions had deepened the hostility between Great Britain and Russia, with

disputes over Persia and the Indian borderlands adding fuel to the quarrel they had long

waged over the Ottoman Empire. We have seen how the struggle for Africa had at the

same time estranged Britain from France and indeed from all Europe. Global imperial

rivalries therefore contributed directly to Britain’s diplomatic isolation within Europe—an

international danger that soon pushed British leaders toward a search for new alliances.

79. IMPERIALISM IN ASIA: CHINA AND EUROPE

China before European Interventions

In this era of new European imperial rivalries, the biggest bone of imperialist contention

was China. On this bone every Great Power without exception tried to bite. The Manchu,

or Qing (formerly transliterated, and still pronounced, as Ch’ing), dynasty (1644–1912)

Foreign interests in

Persia

Spheres of infl uence

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67979. Imperialism in Asia: China and Europe

held a suzerainty over the whole area affected by Chinese civilization, from the mouth

of the Amur River (as far north as Labrador) to Burma and Indochina (as far south as

Panama), and from the ocean westward into Mongolia and Tibet. In the old Chinese view

China was the Middle Kingdom, the civilized center of the world surrounded by less

enlightened peoples. The Europeans were outlandish barbarians. A few had trickled

through to China since the European Middle Ages. But the Chinese people persistently

wanted nothing to do with them.

China was moving into an upheaval of its own even before European infl uence

became of any importance. For about 4,000 years the country had seen dynasties come and

go in long cycles. The Qing dynasty in the nineteenth century was showing the signs of a

dynastic cycle nearing its end. It was failing to preserve order or to curb extortion. About

1800 a White Lotus Society revolted and was suppressed. In 1813 a Heav-

enly Reason Society attempted to seize Peking (now Beijing). In the 1850s

a Muslim rebellion set up a temporary independent state in the southwest.

Greatest of all the upheavals was the Taiping Rebellion, which lasted for

more than a decade (1850–1864) and in which as many as 20 million peo-

ple are thought to have perished. Except that some fragmentary Christian ideas obtained

from missionaries were expressed by some of the Taipings (and its leader claimed to be

the younger brother of Jesus), the rebellion was due entirely to Chinese causes. The rebels

attacked the Manchus, who had come from Manchuria two centuries before, as corrupt

foreigners ruling over China. Their grievances focused on pervasive social problems that

included poverty, extortion, exorbitant rents, and absentee landlords, and their goal was to

establish a new dynasty.

The Taiping

Rebellion

“THE BRITISH LAKE,” 1918 This map shows the most important parts of the British Empire except for Canada, the Carib- bean islands, and the United Kingdom itself. All shores of the Indian Ocean are shown to be British, except for French Madagascar; the politically weak Portuguese, Italian, and Dutch colonies; and the Arabian and Persian coasts, in which British infl uence was strong. It is easy to see why the Mediterranean and Suez Canal, leading from Europe into the Indian Ocean, were called the lifeline of the British Empire.

British

Predominance of British Influence German to 1918, British Mandate Thereafter Ottoman to 1918, British Mandate Thereafter

I N D I A N O C E A N

Suez Canal

EQUATOR

ARABIA EGYPT

IRAQ

JORDAN

PERSIA

INDIA

AUSTRALIA

UNION OF SOUTH AFRICA

NEW ZEALANDTASMANIA

ETHIOPIA

ANGLO- EGYPTIAN

SUDAN

KENYA

BRITISH SOM. CEYLON

UGANDA ITALIAN

SOM.

TANGANYIKA

ANGOLA (Port.)

SOUTHWEST AFRICA

(Union of South Africa

Mandate)

MADAGASCAR (Fr.)

MOZAMBIQUE (Port.)

RHOD ESI

A

BURMA

MALAYA BORNEO

NEW GUINEA NETHERLANDS EAST INDIES

Em pire Lifeline

Aden

Hong Kong

Singapore

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Chapter 16 Europe’s World Supremacy, 1871–1914680

The Taipings set up a state in south China and their armies were at fi rst disciplined,

but the fi ghting lasted so long that both the Taiping leaders and the Manchu commanders

sent against them got out of control, and much of the country sank into chronic banditry

and disorder. It was in this period that China’s war lords, men controlling armed forces but

obeying no government, appeared. The Manchus managed to put down organized Taip-

ing resistance after 14 years, with some European assistance, led by the British General

Gordon, the “Chinese Gordon” who later died at Khartoum. But it is clear that Chinese

social confl ict, agrarianism, and nationalism (the latter at fi rst only anti-Manchu) antedated

the impact of European imperialism.

This was the internally divided and distracted China in which Europeans began to

intervene forcefully after about 1840. It became their policy to extort concessions from the

Manchu Empire but at the same time to defend the Qing dynasty against internal opposition,

as was shown in the European response to the Taiping Rebellion. Europeans supported the

Qing emperors because they needed some kind of government in China with which they

could make treaties, legalizing their claims and binding upon the whole country.

The Expansion of European Infl uence in China

The modern phase of Chinese relations with Europe was inauspiciously opened by the

Opium War of 1839–1841. We have already observed how, though Europeans wanted

Chinese products, the Chinese had no interest in buying European products in return. Trade

therefore was diffi cult, and the British East India Company had for decades solved the

problem of getting Chinese tea for Europe by shipping Indian-grown opium in return,

because opium was one available commodity for which Chinese demand existed. When the

Chinese government attempted to control this socially disruptive infl ow of opium, the Brit-

ish government went to war to protect the free trade of opium and other products. Fifteen

years later, in 1857, Britain and France combined in a second war upon China to force the

Chinese to receive their diplomats and deal with their traders. The Chinese continued to

resist, whereupon 17,000 French and British soldiers entered Beijing and deliberately

burned the emperor’s very extensive Summer Palace, an appalling act of vandalism from

which soldiers brought back enough stolen cultural objects—vases, tapestries, porcelain,

enamels, jades, wood carvings—to set a fashion in Europe and America for Chinese art.

From the fi rst of these wars arose the treaty of Nanking (1842); from the second, the

treaties of Tientsin (1857), whose terms were soon duplicated in still other treaties signed

by China with other European powers and with the United States. The resulting com-

plex of interlocking agreements imposed restrictions on China or conferred

rights upon foreigners and came to be known as the “treaty system.” To the

British in 1842 the Chinese ceded the island of Hong Kong outright and

somewhat later granted adjoining territories on a long lease. They opened

over a dozen cities, including Shanghai and Canton (now called Guangzhou), to Europeans

as “treaty ports.” In these cities Europeans were allowed to make settlements of their own,

immune to all Chinese law. Europeans traveling in the Chinese Empire remained subject

only to their own governments, and European and American gunboats began to police

the Yangtse River. The Chinese likewise paid large war indemnities, though it was they

themselves who suffered most of the damages. They agreed to the continuing import of

opium and also agreed to levy no import duty over 5 percent; China thus became a free

trade market for European products. To administer and collect the customs a staff of Euro-

pean experts was introduced. Money from the customs, collected with a new effi ciency

The treaty system

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681

on a swelling volume of imports, went in part to the British and French in payment of the

indemnities, but part remained with the Qing government, which, as noted, the Europeans

had no desire to overthrow.

Annexations and Concessions

While China was thus permeated at the center by the extraterritorial and other insidious

privileges for Europeans, whole blocks of its territory were cut away at the outer rim. The

Russians moved down the Amur River, established their Maritime Province, and founded

Vladivostok in 1860. The Japanese, now adapting to the methods of the Europeans in such

matters, in 1876 recognized the independence of Korea. The British annexed Burma in

1886. The French in 1883 assumed a protectorate over Annam despite Chinese protests;

they soon combined fi ve areas—Annam, Cochin China, Tonkin, Laos, and Cambodia—

into French Indochina. (The fi rst three were known also as Vietnam, a word not familiar in

most of the world until after the Second World War.) These outlying territories had never,

it is true, been integral parts of China proper; but they had long maintained their most

important political and cultural relations with China and had also paid

tribute to the Chinese emperor.

Japan now joined with the European powers in developing new imperi-

alist ambitions, which became apparent in 1894 when the Japanese went to

war with China over disputes in Korea. The Japanese soon won, equipped as they were with

modern weapons, training, and organization. They obliged the Chinese to sign the treaty of

Shimonoseki in 1895, by which China ceded Formosa and the Liaotung Peninsula to Japan

and recognized Korea as an independent state. The Liaotung was a tongue of land reaching

down from Manchuria to the sea; at its tip was Port Arthur. Manchuria was the northeastern

part of China itself. This sudden Japanese triumph precipitated a kind of upheaval among

the Europeans who had been expanding their power and presence in east Asia. No one had

realized how strong Japan had become. Europeans were astounded that a people who were

not “European” in their culture or race should show such aptitude for modern war and

diplomacy. It was to be supposed that Japan now had designs on Manchuria.

It so happened that Russia, not long before, in 1891, had begun to

build the Trans-Siberian Railway, whose eastern terminus was to be Vladi-

vostok, the “Lord of the East.” Manchuria extended northward between

central Siberia and Vladivostok. The Russians, whether or not they ever

dominated Manchuria themselves, could not allow its domination by another Great Power.

It happened also that Germany was at this time looking for a chance to enter the Far East-

ern arena, and that France had formed an alliance with Russia, whose good will it was

eager to retain. Russia, Germany, and France joined together in demanding that Japan give

up the Liaotung Peninsula. The Japanese hesitated; they were indignant, but they yielded

to the European demands. The Liaotung Peninsula went back to China.

In China many alert people were humiliated at the defeat by the Japanese whom they

had despised. The Chinese government, at last facing the inevitable, began madly to plan

for a program of modernization and reform, which led to even deeper European involve-

ment in Chinese affairs. Huge loans were obtained from Europe—the customs being

pawned as security, following a pattern already well established in Turkey, Persia, and

Santo Domingo. But the European powers did not wish China to become consolidated

too soon. Nor had they forgotten the sudden apparition of Japan. The result was a frantic

European scramble for further concessions in 1898.

Japanese imperialism

“Lord of the East”

79. Imperialism in Asia: China and Europe

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Chapter 16 Europe’s World Supremacy, 1871–1914682

It seemed in 1898 as if the Chinese Empire in its turn would be partitioned. The Ger-

mans extorted a 99-year lease on Kiaochow Bay, plus exclusive rights in the Shantung

Peninsula. The Russians took a lease on the Liaotung Peninsula from which they had just

excluded Japan; they thus obtained Port Arthur and rights to build railroads in Manchuria

to interlock with their Trans-Siberian system. The French took Kwangchow and the British

Wei-hai-wei, in addition to confi rming their sphere of infl uence in the Yangtse Valley. The

Italians demanded a share but were refused. The United States, fearing that

all China might soon be parceled out into exclusive spheres, announced its

policy of the Open Door. The idea of the Open Door was that China should

remain territorially intact and independent and that powers having special

concessions or spheres of infl uence should maintain the 5 percent Chinese tariff and allow

businessmen of all nations to trade without discrimination. The British supported the Open

Door as a means of discouraging actual annexations by Japan or Russia, which as the only

Great Powers adjacent to China were the only ones that could dispatch large military forces

into its territory. The Open Door was a program not so much of leaving China to the

Chinese as of assuring that all outsiders should fi nd it literally “open.”

If readers will imagine what the United States would be like if foreign warships

patrolled the Mississippi as far as St. Louis; if foreigners came and went throughout the

country without being under its laws; if New York, New Orleans, and other cities con-

tained foreign settlements outside its jurisdiction but in which all banking and management

were concentrated; if foreigners determined the tariff policy, collected the proceeds, and

remitted much of the money to their own governments; if the western part of the city of

The Open Door

CHRONOLOGY OF NOTABLE EVENTS, 1850–1906

1850–1864 Taiping Rebellion in China is suppressed by Qing dynasty; up to 20 million die

1856 Ottoman Empire launches reforms to modernize the legal and military system

1857 “Indian Mutiny” threatens British control of India and leads to reforms in the

imperial administration

1876 Abdul Hamid takes power as sultan in Ottoman Empire; repressive regime lasts

for 33 years

1877–1878 Russo-Turkish War leads to Russian gains in the Balkans

1885 Berlin Conference sets European terms for imperial control of Africa

1885 Hindu Indian National Congress is organized to challenge British power in India

1894–1895 Japan goes to war with China and takes Formosa (later called Taiwan)

1898 French and English forces come to brink of imperial confl ict at Fashoda in

Sudan—the “Fashoda Crisis”

1899 Chinese revolt against European powers, the “Boxer Uprising,” is suppressed by

European forces

1899–1902 The Boer War enables Britain to consolidate power in South Africa

1904–1905 Japan defeats Russia in Russo-Japanese War and expands into Manchuria

1906 All-India Muslim League is organized to promote Indian nationalism and

Muslim rights within Britain’s largest Asian colony

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683

NORTHEAST CHINA AND ADJOINING REGIONS IN THE ERA OF IMPERIALISM Manchuria became an object of dispute among China, to which it belonged historically, Russia, and Japan. It was dominated by the Russians from 1898 to 1905, by the Japanese from 1905 to 1945, and again by the Russians from 1945 to 1950, when they transferred it to the People’s Republic of China. Korea was dominated by Japan from about 1895 (and for- mally annexed by Japan in 1910) until the end of the Second World War. It was then divided into Russian and American occupation zones. After the Korean War (1950–1953) it remained divided into two independent states, North Korea under a Communist regime and a Western- supported South Korea.

Russian

British

German

Spheres of Influence About 1900

0 100 200 300 miles

S e a o f J a p a n

Y e l l o w S e a

E a s t C h i n a

S e a

P A C I F I C O C E A N

A m

ur

R .

U ss

u ri

R .

A m

u r

R .

Ya lu

R.

Hw an

g Ho

R.

Ya ng

ts

e R.

M A N C H U R I A (Russia Occupied, 1900–1905)

R U S S I A N E M P I R E

JEHOL

SHANTUNG

KOREA (Japan 1895, 1905, 1910)

OUTER MONGOLIA

INN ER

MO NG

OLI A

S I B E R I A

M A

R IT

IM E

PR O

V IN

C E

J A

P A

N E

S E

E M

P I

R E

LIAOTUNG PENINSULA

C

H

I

N

A

TR A

NS-SIBER IA

N

RAILR O

AD

C H

IN

ESE E ASTERN RAILRO

A D

SHIKOKU

KYUSHU

HONSHU

HOKKAIDO

SAKHALIN

KARAFUTO (Japan 1905)

FORMOSA (Japan 1895)

R Y

U K

Y U

I.

Chita

Chengteh

Kiao-chow (Germany

1898)

Peking

Tsinan Wei-hai-wei

(Britain 1898)

Port Arthur (Russia, 1898; Japan, 1905)

Tsingtao

Tientsin

Seoul

Fusan

Nanking

Shanghai

Ningpo

Foochow

Amoy

Osaka

Tokyo

Vladivostok

Khabarovsk

Harbin

Mukden

79. Imperialism in Asia: China and Europe

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Chapter 16 Europe’s World Supremacy, 1871–1914684

Washington had been burned (the Summer Palace), Long Island and California had been

annexed to distant empires (Hong Kong and Indochina), and all New England was coveted

by two immediate neighbors (Manchuria); if the national authorities were half in collusion

with these foreigners and half victimized by them; and if large areas of the country were

prey to bandits, guerrillas, and revolutionary secret societies conspiring against the helpless

government and occasionally murdering some of the foreigners—then they can understand

how observant Chinese felt at the end of the nineteenth century, why European interven-

tions were increasingly resented throughout Asia, and why the term “imperialism” came to

be held by so many of the world’s peoples in abomination.

One Chinese secret society, its name somewhat literally translated as

the Order of Literary Patriotic Harmonious Fists, dubbed the Boxers by

hostile foreigners, broke out in insurrection in 1899. The Boxers pulled up

railway tracks, fell upon Chinese Christians, besieged the foreign legations,

and killed about 300 foreigners, including numerous Christian missionaries. The European

powers, joined by Japan and the United States, sent a combined international force against

the insurgents, who were put down. The victors imposed still more severe controls on the

Chinese government and infl icted an indemnity of $330 million that was to be divided

among the foreign powers that had contributed troops to the anti-Boxer campaign. On

the other hand, as a consequence of the Boxer Uprising, the Qing offi cials strove desper-

ately to strengthen themselves by modernizing the country. Meanwhile, a new revolu-

tionary movement, aiming at expulsion of Manchus and foreigners alike, began to spread

rapidly throughout China, especially in the south, under the leadership of Sun Yat-sen.

The Boxer Uprising

Chinese resentments against their government’s concessions to foreign imperialist powers erupted in the violence of the so-called Boxer Uprising in 1899. This Chinese woodblock illus- tration of an attack on Europeans conveys the anger that fueled new national movements during this era of widespread European interventions in Chinese economic and political life. (The British Library/Robana via Getty Images)

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68580. The Russo-Japanese War and Its Consequences

80. THE RUSSO-JAPANESE WAR AND ITS CONSEQUENCES

Russia and Japan increasingly opposed each other’s intrigues in Manchuria and Korea.

The Japanese felt a need for supplying their new factories with raw materials and mar-

kets on the Asian mainland, for employment for their modern army and navy and for

recognized status as a Great Power—a status that nations could attain in this era only by

controlling an overseas empire. The Russian government needed an atmosphere of crisis

and expansion to stifl e criticism of tsarism at home; it could not abide the presence of

a strong power directly on its East Asian frontier; it could use Manchuria and Korea to

strengthen the exposed outpost of Vladivostok, which was somewhat squeezed against

the sea and landlocked by Japanese waters. The Russians had obtained a concession from

China to build the Chinese Eastern Railway to Vladivostok across the heart of Manchuria.

A railway, in Manchuria, implied special zones, railway guards, mining and timber rights,

and other auxiliary activities. The Japanese saw the fruits of their successful war of 1895

against China greedily enjoyed by their rival. In 1902 Japan signed a military alliance with

Great Britain. We have seen how the British were alarmed by their diplo-

matic isolation after Fashoda and the Boer War and how for many years

they had been expecting to have trouble with Russia. The Anglo-Japanese

military alliance became one of the British responses to their international

isolation, and the alliance lasted 20 years.

War between Japan and Russia broke out in 1904, beginning with a Japanese naval attack

on Russian installations at Port Arthur. Both sides sent large armies into Manchuria. The deci-

sive battle of Mukden (which was fought for control of the important Manchurian city now

called Shenyang) engaged more troops than any previous battle in human history—624,000

men. Military observers were present from all the major powers, anxiously trying to learn

what the next war in Europe might be like. The Russians sent their Baltic fl eet around three

continents to the Far East, but to the world’s amazement the Russian fl eet was met and

destroyed at Tsushima Strait by the new and untested navy of Japan. Russian communications

by sea were thereby broken, and because the Trans-Siberian Railway was unfi nished and

because the Japanese also won the battle of Mukden, Russia was beaten.

At this point the president of the United States, Theodore Roosevelt, stepped upon the

scene. With a new colonial outpost in the Philippines and a growing interest in China, it

was to the American advantage to have neither side win too overwhelming a victory in the

Far East. The most imperially minded of all American presidents offered his mediation,

and plenipotentiaries of the two powers met at Portsmouth, New Hamp-

shire. By the treaty of Portsmouth in 1905, Japan recovered from Russia

what it had won and lost in 1895, namely Port Arthur and the Liaotung

Peninsula; a preferred position in Manchuria, which remained nominally

Chinese; and a protectorate in Korea, which remained nominally indepen-

dent until it was annexed by Japan in 1910. Japan also received from Russia the southern

half of the island of Sakhalin. Much of what Russia lost to Japan in 1905 was regained

40 years later at the end of the Second World War.

The Russo-Japanese War was the fi rst war between Great Powers since 1870. It was

the fi rst war fought under conditions of developed industrialism. It was the fi rst actual war

between modern powers to be caused by imperial competition in the exploitation of less

developed countries. Most signifi cant of all, in a period of intense concern with “race,” it

was widely noted that a nation of nonwhite people had defeated a nation of white people.

Russo-Japanese

rivalry

The treaty of

Portsmouth

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Chapter 16 Europe’s World Supremacy, 1871–1914686

The only other such defeat of a modern European nation was the Ethiopian rout of the Ital-

ians at Adowa in 1896, but now an Asian nation had shown that it could learn and play, in

less than half a century, the geopolitical game of the Europeans.

The Japanese victory set off long chains of repercussions in at least

three different directions. First, the Russian government, frustrated in its

foreign policy in East Asia, shifted its attention back to Europe, where it

resumed an active role in the affairs of the Balkans. This contributed to

a series of international crises in Europe that led to the First World War.

Second, the tsarist government was so weakened by the war, both in prestige and in actual

military strength, and opinion in Russia was so disgusted at the clumsiness and incom-

petency with which the war had been handled, that the various underground movements

Consequences of

Japanese victory

The Japanese victory over the Russians in the battle of Mukden showed the world that Japan had become a major military and industrial power in east Asia. This lithograph from 1905, “Fighting in the Snow,” portrays a decisive attack in the battle and illustrates how the Russo- Japanese War quickly gained symbolic signifi cance in the rise of twentieth-century Japanese nationalism. (The Granger Collection, NYC)

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687

were able to come to the surface, producing the Russian Revolution of 1905. This in turn

was a prelude to the great Russian Revolution of 1917, of which Soviet communism

was the outcome. Third, news of Japan’s victory over Russia electrifi ed those who heard

of it throughout the non-European world. The fact that Japan was itself an imperialist

power was overlooked in the excited realization that the Japanese people were gaining

the kind of international power and infl uence that had long given the European nations an

apparently unstoppable ascendancy. Only half a century ago the Japanese, too, had been

“backward”—defenseless, bombarded, and bulldozed by the Europeans. Now Japan had

achieved the status of a Great Power that could sign military alliances with Great Britain

and defeat the armed forces of the Russian Empire.

The moral was clear. Everywhere leaders of subjugated peoples concluded, from the

Japanese precedent, that they must bring European science and industry to their own coun-

tries, but that they must do it, as the Japanese had done, by ending European political

control of Asian or African colonies, supervising the process of modernization themselves,

and preserving their own distinctive cultures. New “hybrid elites” in colonized societies

combined their growing knowledge of European culture with a growing pride in their own

cultural traditions, thereby creating the new nationalisms that would become a major,

worldwide legacy of modern European imperialism. Nationalist revolutions began in Per-

sia in 1905; in Turkey in 1908; in China in 1911. In India and Indonesia many were stirred

by the Japanese achievement. In the face of rising agitation, the British admitted an Indian

to the Viceroy’s Council in 1909, and in 1916 the Dutch created a People’s Council, to

include Indonesian members, in the Dutch East Indies. The self-assertion of Asians was to

grow in intensity after the First World War, when the limits of European power became

increasingly evident.

The Japanese victory and Russian defeat can therefore be seen as start-

ing points for three mighty developments: the First World War, the Russian

Revolution, and the Revolt of Asia against European imperialism. These

far-reaching upheavals all contributed to the weakening of Europe’s infl u-

ence in modern global history. They gradually put an end to Europe’s world supremacy

and undermined confi dent ideas about the inevitable progress and expansion of European

civilization. Each of these transitional events would alter Europe’s long-dominant interna-

tional position and help to make the world of the twentieth century far different from that of

the nineteenth. But Europeans could not have imagined, in 1905, that the Russo-Japanese

War might be a fi rst step toward great confl icts that would soon transform Europe’s impe-

rial role in the wider non-European world.

Asian self-assertion

and nationalism

For suggested further readings and useful Web sites, interactive exercises, glossary, chronologies,

and more, go to the Online Learning Center at www.mhhe.com/palmerhistory11e.

80. The Russo-Japanese War and Its Consequences

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689

C h a p t e r 17 THE FIRST WORLD WAR

Somewhere before  1914 Europe went off the his- torical track that was supposed to lead its peoples

toward a better future. At the beginning of the

twentieth century, most Europeans believed they

were heading for a kind of high historical plateau,

full of a benign progress and more abundant civili-

zation, in which the benefi ts of modern science and

invention would be more widely diffused and even

competitive struggle would work out somehow for

the best. Instead, Europe stumbled in 1914 into

disaster. It is not easy to see exactly where Europe

went astray, at what point, that is, the First World

War became inevitable, or (because the human

mind does not know what is truly inevitable) so

overwhelmingly probable that only the most Olym-

pian statesmanship could have avoided it.

But no such statesmanship appeared, and Europe fell into a deadly, grinding war that

consumed much of its wealth, killed millions of its young men, and ultimately weakened

or even destroyed much of its power and infl uence around the world. The Great War of

1914–1918, in short, became one of the decisive events in modern European and global

history. Like other such upheavals—the Protestant Reformation, for example, or the French

Revolution—this vast clash of opposing forces spread across all the traditional boundar-

ies of Europe, shattering empires and cultural beliefs that had seemed as indestructible

as the earlier unity of the Roman Catholic Church or the enduring power of “old regime”

monarchies.

81. THE INTERNATIONAL ANARCHY

The great political questions in mid-nineteenth-century Europe had been settled by force.

The German Empire was the strongest and most obvious of the new political structures

that had emerged through the use of armed power, but all of the major European states had

81. The International Anarchy

82. The Armed Stalemate

83. The Collapse of Russia

and the Intervention

of the United States

84. The Collapse of the

Austrian and German

Empires

85. The Economic, Social, and

Cultural Impact of the War

86. The Peace of Paris, 1919

Chapter emblem: Soldier in the trenches near Passchendaele, Belgium, in 1917. (Paul Popper/Popperfoto/Getty

Images)

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Chapter 17 The First World War690

concluded that large military forces were essential for their national existence. Never had

the European states maintained such huge armies in peacetime as at the beginning of the

twentieth century. One, two, or even three years of compulsory military service for all

young men became the rule. In 1914 each of the Continental Great Powers had not only a

huge standing army but millions of trained reserves among the civilian population. Few

people wanted war; all but a few sensational writers preferred peace in

Europe, but many took it for granted that war would come someday. The

idea that war was bound to break out sooner or later probably made some

statesmen in some countries more willing to unleash it. In any case,

the popular expectation of future wars as well as the large standing armies

helped to produce the Great War that exploded in 1914; but the war also came from other

causes, including the interlocking system of international alliances, Germany’s desire for a

greater role in world affairs (which challenged Britain’s earlier ascendancy and raised

nationalist anxieties in France), and the ongoing confl icts in the Balkans.

Rival Alliances: Triple Alliance versus Triple Entente

Political diagnosticians, from Richelieu to Metternich, had long thought that an effective

union of Germany would revolutionize the relationships of Europe’s peoples. After 1870

their anticipations were more than confi rmed. Once united (or almost united), the Germans

entered upon their industrial revolution. Manufacturing, fi nance, shipping, and population

grew phenomenally. By 1900, for example, Germany produced more steel than France and

Britain combined, though in 1865 the French alone had produced more than the Germans.

People in Germany felt that they needed and deserved a “place in the

sun,” by which they vaguely meant some kind of acknowledged supremacy

like that of the British. Neither the British nor the French, the leaders of

modern Europe since the seventeenth century, could share in such German

aspirations. The French nursed the chronic grievance of Alsace and Lorraine, annexed to

Germany in 1871. The British saw German salesmen appear in their foreign markets, sell-

ing goods often at lower prices and using what they viewed as ungentlemanly methods;

they saw Germans turn up as colonial rivals in Africa, the Middle East, and the Far

East; and they watched other European states gravitate into the Berlin orbit, looking to the

mighty German Empire as a friend to advance their interests.

Bismarck after 1871 feared that another European war might tear his new German

Empire to pieces. He therefore followed, until his retirement in 1890, a policy of diplo-

macy and peace. We have seen him as the “honest broker” at the Berlin Congress of 1878,

helping to adjudicate the Eastern Question, and again offering the facilities of Berlin in

1885 to bring some international order to African affairs. To isolate France, divert it from

Europe, and keep it embroiled with Britain, he looked with satisfaction on French colonial

expansion. He took no chances, however; in 1879 he formed a military

alliance with Austria-Hungary, to which Italy was added in 1882. Thus

was formed the Triple Alliance, which lasted until the First World War. Its

terms were, briefl y, that if any member became involved in war with two

or more powers, its allies should come to its aid by force of arms. To be on the safe side,

Bismarck signed a “reinsurance” treaty with Russia also. Because Russia and Austria were

enemies (because of the Balkans), Germany needed considerable diplomatic fi nesse to stay

allied to both at the same time. After Bismarck’s retirement his system proved too intri-

cate, or too lacking in candor, for his successors to manage. The Russo-German agreement

The inevitability of

war?

A “place in the sun”

The Triple Alliance

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69181. The International Anarchy

lapsed. The French, faced by the Triple Alliance, soon seized the opportunity to form their

own alliance with Russia, the Franco-Russian Alliance signed in 1894. In its time this

was regarded as politically almost impossible. The French Republic stood for everything

radical; the Russian Empire, for everything reactionary and autocratic. But ideology was

thrown to the winds, French capital poured into Russia, and the tsar bared his head to the

Marseillaise. The Continent was thus divided by 1894 into two opposed camps, the German-

Austrian-Italian against the Franco-Russian. For a time it seemed that this rigid division

might soften. Germany, France, and Russia cooperated in the Far Eastern crisis of 1895

to stem the expanding power of Japan. All were anti-British at the time of Fashoda and

the Boer War. The Kaiser, William II, outlined tempting pictures of a Continental league

against the global hegemony of England and its empire.

Much depended on what the British would do. They had long prided

themselves on a “splendid isolation,” going their own way, disdaining the

kind of dependency that alliance with others always brings. European hos-

tility toward Britain during the Fashoda crisis and the Boer War came as a

shock. British relations with France and Russia were going badly. Some in England,

including Joseph Chamberlain, therefore thought that a better understanding with Germany

should be sought as part of a broader strategy to reduce British isolation. Arguments of

race, in this race-conscious age, made the English and Germans feel akin. But politically it

was hard to cooperate. The Kaiser’s Kruger Telegram of 1896, expressing support for the

South African Boers in their confl ict with Britain, was a studied insult. Then in 1898 the

Germans decided to build a navy.

A new kind of race now entered the picture, the naval competition

between Germany and Great Britain. British sea power for two centuries

had been all too successful. The American Admiral Mahan, teaching at this

time in the American Naval War College and taking his examples largely from British

history, argued that sea power had always been the foundation of Britain’s greatness and

that in the long run sea power must always choke off and ruin a power operating on land.

Nowhere were Mahan’s books read with more interest than in Germany. The German

naval program, mounting rapidly after 1898, became a source of concern to the British,

and by 1912 the German navy was perceived as an aggressive menace to Britain’s global

interests. The Germans insisted that they must have a navy to protect their colonies, secure

their foreign trade, and “for the general purposes of their greatness.” The British held

with equal resolution that England, as a densely populated industrial island, dependent

upon imports even for food, must at all costs control the sea in both peace and war. They

adhered stubbornly to their traditional policy of maintaining a navy as large as the next two

combined. The naval race led both sides to enormous and increasing expenditures. In the

British it produced a sense of profound insecurity, driving them as the years passed ever

more inescapably into the arms of Russia and France.

Slowly and cautiously the British emerged from their diplomatic isolation. We have

noted that in 1902 they formed a military alliance with Japan against their common enemy,

Russia. The decisive break, however, came in 1904, from which may be dated the immedi-

ate series of crises issuing ten years later in the First World War.

In 1904 the British and French governments agreed to forget their confl ict at Fashoda

and the accumulated bad feeling of the preceding 25 years. The French recognized the

British occupation of Egypt, and the British recognized the French expansion into Morocco.

They also agreed to support each other against protests by third parties. There was no

“Splendid isolation”

Naval race

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Chapter 17 The First World War692

specifi c alliance; neither side said what it would do in the event of war; it was only a close

understanding, an entente cordiale. The French immediately tried to reconcile their new friend to their ally, Russia. After defeat by Japan the Russians proved amenable. The

British, increasingly uncertain of German aims, proved likewise willing. In 1907 Britain

and Russia, the inveterate adversaries, settled their differences in an Anglo-Russian Con-

vention. In Persia, the British recognized a Russian sphere of infl uence in the north, while

the Russians recognized a British sphere in the south and east. By 1907 England, France,

and Russia were acting together. The older Triple Alliance faced a newer

Triple Entente, the latter somewhat the looser, because the British refused

to make any formal military commitments.

The Crises in Morocco and the Balkans

The Germans, who already felt encircled by the alliance of France and Russia, watched

with concern as England drifted into the Franco-Russian camp. The Entente Cordiale was

barely concluded when the German government decided to test it by seeing how far the

British would go in support of France. The French, now enjoying British

backing, were taking over more police powers, concessions, and loans

in Morocco. In March 1905 Kaiser William II disembarked from a German

warship at Tangier, where he made a startling speech in favor of Moroccan

independence. To diplomats everywhere this carefully staged performance was a signal:

Germany was attempting to break up the new understanding between France and England.

The Germans demanded and obtained an international conference at the Spanish port city

of Algeciras, but the conference, which met in 1906, supported the French claims in

Morocco, only Austria voting with Germany.

The German government had thus created an incident and been rebuffed. The British,

disturbed by German diplomatic tactics, stood by the French all the more fi rmly. French and

British army and naval offi cers now began to discuss common plans. Distrust of Germany

also inclined the British to bury the hatchet with Russia in the next year. The German attempt

to break the Entente simply made it more solid. In 1911 came a second Morocco crisis.

A German gunboat, the Panther, arrived at Agadir “to protect German interests.” It soon became apparent that the move was a holdup; the Germans offered to make no further trou-

ble in Morocco if they could have the French Congo. This crisis also passed, the Germans

obtaining some small accessions in Africa, but it increased British hostility to Germany.

Meanwhile a series of crises rocked the Balkans. The Ottoman Empire,

now in an advanced state of dissolution, still held a band of territory from

Constantinople westward to the Adriatic (see map, p. 698), which included

Bulgarians, Serbs, Albanians, and Macedonians. In the center and west of the peninsula,

Triple Entente

Testing the Entente

Crises in the Balkans

ANGLO-GERMAN INDUSTRIAL COMPETITION, 1898 AND 1913 This diagram shows the huge increase in world trade in the years before the First World War and also the fact that German exports grew in these years more rapidly than British exports. The exports of both countries together multiplied no less than threefold in these 15 years. The increase refl ected a small rise in prices, but it was mainly due to a real increase in volume of business. In 1913, total German exports about equaled the British, but German exports to the United States and Russia greatly exceeded the British exports to these countries. Note how the Germans even gained exports in British India, where the liberalism of British trade policy freely admitted competitive goods. In merchant marine, though the Germans doubled their tonnage, the British continued to enjoy an overwhelming lead.

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693

GREAT BRITAIN

GERMANY GERMAN

BRITISH

G ER

M A

NBR IT

IS H

GERMAN

BRITISH

GE RM

AN

BR ITI

SHG ER

M A

N

B R

IT IS

H

TO R

U SS

IA

TO CH

INA

TO BRITISH INDIA

TO A

RG EN

TI N

A

TO UNITED STATES 1898 1913 1898 1913

18 98

19 13

18 98

19 13

1898 1913 1898 1913

189 8

191 3

189 8

191 3

18 98

19 13

18 98

19 13

HUNDRED MILLIONS OF DOLLARS

0 1 2EXPORTS TO:

UNITED STATES

BRITISH INDIA

RUSSIA

ARGENTINA

CHINA

1898 1913

1898 1913

1898 1913

1898 1913

1898 1913

1898 1913

1898 1913

1898 1913

1898 1913 1898 1913

1898 1913 1898 1913

TOTAL EXPORTS TO ALL COUNTRIES, FOREIGN AND COLONIAL, 1898 AND 1913

MERCHANT MARINE

GREAT BRITAIN

GERMANY

1898 1913 1898 1913

0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 15 MILLIONS OF TONS

GREAT BRITAIN

GERMANY

3 4 5 10 15 20 25

81. The International Anarchy

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Chapter 17 The First World War694

Kaiser William II sought to strengthen Germany’s interna- tional position by undermining the alliance between France and Britain. His visit to Morocco in 1905, as shown in this image of his arrival at Tangiers, exempli- fi ed the Kaiser’s assertive style of personal diplomacy, but his call for Moroccan independence failed to weaken the French- British Entente. (Hulton Archive/Getty Images)

north of the Turkish belt, was the small, landlocked, independent kingdom of Serbia,

adjoined by Bosnia-Herzegovina, which belonged legally to Turkey but had been “occupied

and administered” by Austria since 1878. Within the Austro-Hungarian Empire, adjoining

Bosnia on the north and west, lay Croatia and Slovenia.

Serbs, Bosnians, Croats, and Slovenes all spoke basically the same language, Serbo-

Croatian, the main difference being that Serbs and Bosnians wrote with the eastern or

Cyrillic alphabet while the Croats and Slovenes wrote with the western or Roman alpha-

bet. The difference refl ected deep differences in religion. The Slovenes and Croats had

long been Roman Catholic, and hence more affi liated with western Europe;

the Serbs and many Bosnians were Eastern Orthodox and so closer to

Russia; and there were also, especially in Bosnia, large numbers of Slavs who

were Muslims, converted during the Ottoman domination. With the Slavic

Revival, which emphasized linguistic identities, many of these peoples came to feel that

they were really one people, for which they took the name South Slavs, or Yugoslavs. After

the Dual Monarchy was formed in 1867, as we have seen, the Slavs of the Habsburg Empire

were kept subordinate to the German Austrians and the Hungarian Magyars. By 1900 radi-

cal Slav nationalists within the empire had concluded that the Dual Monarchy would never

grant them equal status and that all South Slavs should form an independent state of their

own. Concretely, this meant that an element of the Austro-Hungarian population, namely,

Ethnic and religious

divisions

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695

the Croatian and Slovenian nationalists, wished to get out of the empire and join with Serbia

across the border. Serbia became the center of South Slav agitation.

This brew was brought to a boil in 1908 by two events. First, the Young Turks, whose

long agitation against Abdul Hamid has been noted, managed in that year to carry through

a revolution. They obliged the sultan to restore the liberal parliamentary constitution of

1876. They showed, too, that they meant to stop the territorial dissolution of the Ottoman

Empire by taking steps to have delegates from Bulgaria and Bosnia sit in the new Otto-

man parliament. Second, Russia, its foreign policy in the Far East ruined by the Japanese

war, turned actively to the Balkan and Turkish scene. Russia, as always, wanted control at

Constantinople. Austria wanted full annexation of Bosnia, the better to discourage the

pan-Yugoslav ideas that challenged Austria’s infl uence in the former territories of the

Ottoman Empire.

The Russian and Austrian foreign ministers, Alexander Isvolsky and Alois von

Aehrenthal, came to a secret agreement in 1908. They would call an international confer-

ence, at which Russia would favor Austrian annexation of Bosnia and Austria would support

the opening of the Bosporus Straits to Russian warships. Austria, without waiting for a con-

ference, proclaimed the annexation of Bosnia without more ado. This infuriated the Serbs,

who had marked Bosnia for their own. Meanwhile, that same year, the Bulgarians and the

Cretans broke fi nally with the Ottoman Empire, Bulgaria becoming fully

independent, Crete uniting with Greece. Isvolsky was never able to realize

the Russian plans for Constantinople. His partners in the Triple Entente,

Britain and France, refused to back him, and the projected international con-

ference was never called. In Russia itself public opinion knew nothing of Isvolsky’s secret

deal. The known fact in Russia was that the Serbs, the little Slav brothers of Russia, had

their toes rudely stepped on by the Austrian annexation of Bosnia.

This “fi rst Balkan crisis” presently passed. The Russians, weakened by the Japanese

war and by the domestic revolutionary turmoil of 1905, accepted the Austrian fait accom-

pli. Austrian infl uence in the Balkans seemed to be growing. And South Slav nationalism

was frustrated and infl amed.

In 1911 Italy declared war on Ottoman Turkey, from which it soon conquered Tripoli

and the Dodecanese Islands. With the Ottomans thus embarrassed, Bulgaria, Serbia, and

Greece joined together in their own war against Turkey, hoping to annex certain Balkan

territories to which they believed they had a right. The Ottoman army was soon defeated

again, but the Bulgarians claimed more of Macedonia than the Serbs would yield. The fi rst

Balkan war of 1912 was followed in 1913 by a second, in which Albania, a mountainous,

mainly Muslim region on the Adriatic, was the subject of angry discord. The

Serbs occupied part of it in the two Balkan wars, but Greeks also claimed

a part, and it had also on several occasions been vaguely promised to Italy.

Russia supported the Serbian claim. Austria was determined to shut off the

Serbs from access to the sea, which they would obtain by annexation of Albanian territory.

An agreement of the main European powers conjured up an independent kingdom in Alba-

nia. This confi rmed the Austrian policy, kept Serbia from the sea, and aroused vehement

outcries in both Serbia and Russia. But Russia again backed down. Serbian expansionism

was again frustrated and infl amed.

The third Balkan crisis proved to be the fatal confl ict that dragged all of Europe into

the recurring violence in the borderlands of the Austrian and Ottoman Empires. The third

crisis was fatal because two others had gone before it, leaving feelings of exasperation in

Austria, desperation in Serbia, and humiliation in Russia.

The fi rst Balkan crisis

Two Balkan wars

81. The International Anarchy

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Chapter 17 The First World War696

The Sarajevo Crisis and the Outbreak of War

On June 28, 1914, a young Bosnian revolutionary, a member of the Serbian secret society

called “Union or Death” and commonly known as the Black Hand, acting

with the knowledge of certain Serbian offi cials, assassinated the heir to the

Habsburg Empire, the Archduke Francis Ferdinand, in the streets of Sara-

jevo, the Bosnian capital, in the Austrian Empire. The world was shocked

at this terrorist outrage and at fi rst sympathized with the protests of the

Austrian government. Francis Ferdinand, who would soon have become emperor, was

known to favor some kind of transformation of Austria-Hungary, in which a more equal

place might be given to the Slavs; but the reformer who makes a system work is the most

dangerous of all enemies to the implacable revolutionary, and it is perhaps for this reason

that the archduke was killed by the Black Hand.

The Austrian government was determined to end the South Slav separatism that was

gnawing its empire to pieces. It decided to crush the independence of Serbia, the nucleus

of South Slav agitation, though not to annex it, because most Austrians thought too many

Slavs were living within the empire already. The Austrian government consulted the

German to see how far it might go with the support of its ally. The Germans, issuing their

famous “blank check,” encouraged the Austrians to be fi rm. The Austrians,

thus reassured of strong German support, dispatched a drastic ultimatum to

Serbia, demanding among other things that Austrian offi cials be permitted

to collaborate in investigating and punishing the perpetrators of the assas-

sination. The Serbs counted on Russian support, judging that Russia could

not yield in a Balkan crisis, for the third time in six years, without losing its infl uence in

the Balkans altogether. The Russians in turn counted on France; and France, terrifi ed at the

possibility of being someday caught alone in a war with Germany and determined to keep

Russia as an ally at any cost, in effect gave a blank check to Russia.

The Serbs rejected the critical item in the Austrian ultimatum as an infringement on

Serbian sovereignty, and Austria thereupon declared war upon Serbia. Russia prepared to

defend Serbia and hence to fi ght Austria. Expecting that Austria would be joined by

Germany, Russia rashly mobilized its army on the German as well as the Austrian fron-

tier. Because the power that fi rst mobilized had all the advantages of a rapid offensive, the

German government demanded an end to the Russian mobilization on its border and,

receiving no answer, declared war on Russia on August 1, 1914. Convinced that France

would in any case enter the war on the side of Russia, Germany also declared war on

France on August 3. These German declarations of war would become the basis for later

charges that Germany bore complete responsibility, or guilt, for the huge human and

fi nancial costs that all European nations would pay over the next four years.

The German decisions were posited on a reckless hope that Great Britain might not

enter the war at all. England was bound by no formal military alliance. Even the French

did not know for certain, as late as August 3, whether the British would join them in war.

The British clung to scraps of their old proud isolation; they hesitated to

make a fi nal choice of sides; and as the foreign secretary Sir Edward Grey

repeatedly explained, in England only parliament could declare war, so the

foreign offi ce could make no binding promise of war in advance. It has

often been said that had the German government known as a positive fact that England

would fi ght, the war might not have come. Hence the evasiveness of British policy is made

a contributing cause of the war, and the guilt for what followed is expanded to include

The assassination at

Sarajevo

The German “blank

check”

English isolation

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697

(at least to some extent) the government of every major European state. In reality, the

probability that England would fi ght was so great that to underestimate it, as the Germans

did, was an act of supreme self-deception. The British government was deeply committed

to France, especially through naval agreements, but what swept the British public toward

the French was the German invasion of Belgium. The German plan to crush France quickly

was such that it could succeed only by crossing Belgium. When the Belgians protested, the

Germans invaded anyway, violating the treaty of 1839, which had guaranteed Belgian

neutrality. England declared war on Germany on August 4.

The mere narration of successive crises does not explain why the chief nations of

Europe within a few days became locked in combat over the murder of an

imperial personage. Among more obvious general causes, the alliance sys-

tem and nationalist ideologies should be emphasized. Europe was divided

into two armed camps. Every incident tended to become a test of strength

between the two. A specifi c national incident, such as German intervention

in Morocco, or the assassination of Francis Ferdinand, could not be settled on its own mer-

its, merely by the parties concerned. However it was dealt with, one of the two camps was

deemed to have lost or gained and hence to have lost or gained infl uence in other incidents,

Causes of the First

World War

Archduke Francis Ferdinand of Austria meets here with leaders of the Catholic Church dur- ing his visit to Sarajevo on June 28, 1914. Shortly after this meeting, the Archduke (the tall man with a moustache) and his wife were assassinated by a Bosnian terrorist who wanted Bosnia to separate from the Austrian Empire and join with Serbia to form a larger Slavic state. The ensuing diplomatic crisis quickly spread beyond Austria and Serbia, mobilized all of the nations in the European alliance system, and led to the First World War of 1914–1918. (Hulton Archive/Getty Images)

81. The International Anarchy

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Chapter 17 The First World War698

of perhaps greater importance, that would arise in the future. The political leaders in each

nation believed that they must stand by their allies whatever the specifi c issue; and every

local confl ict or confrontation became connected to wider anxieties about national secu-

rity. This was because all lived in the fear of war, of some nameless future war in which

allies would be necessary.

The Germans complained of being “encircled” by France and Russia. They dreaded

the day when they might have to face a war on two fronts. Willing to accept even a Euro-

peanwide war to break their threatened “encirclement” by the Entente powers, they were

obliged to hold to their one ally, Austria-Hungary, which was in turn able to sell its support

at its own price. The French dreaded a coming confl ict with Germany, which in 40 years

had far surpassed France in population and industrial strength; they were obliged to cling

to their ally Russia, which therefore could oblige the French to yield to Russian wishes. As

for Russia and Austria, they were both tottering empires. Especially after 1900, the tsar-

ist regime suffered from endemic revolutionism and the Habsburg Empire from chronic

nationalistic agitation. Authorities in both empires became desperate. Like the Serbs,

they had little to lose and were therefore increasingly reckless in their foreign policies. It

was Russia that drew France and hence England into war in 1914, and Austria that drew

Germany. Seen in this light, the tragedy of 1914 is that the instability and nationalist

THE BALKANS, 1878 AND 1914 Austria and Russia had gradually pushed the Ottoman Empire out of Europe since 1699. The Congress of Berlin in 1878 attempted to stabilize the situation by recognizing Romania, Serbia, and Montenegro as independent monarchies, and northern Bulgaria as an autonomous prin- cipality within the Ottoman Empire. The ambitions and discontents of these new states, of Greece, and of non-Turkish people remaining within the Ottoman Empire culminated in the Balkan Wars of 1912–1913. Albania then became independent, and Serbia, Bulgaria, and Greece became contiguous. Austrian and Russian pressures meanwhile continued; in 1908 Austria annexed Bosnia, where the South Slav population, like the Serbs, was hostile to the Austrian annexation.

Adriatic Sea

Aegean Sea

Black Sea

Mediterranean Sea

Danube R.

A U S T R I A - H U N G A R Y

O T T O M A N

E M P I R

E

ITALY

GREECE (Independent)

ROMANIA (Independent)

RUSSIA

BOSNIA (Austrian Military

Occupation) SERBIA (Independent)

MONTENEGRO (Independent)

BULGARIA (Autonomous)

EAST RUMELIA (Aut. Prov.)

A LB

A N

IA

D O

B R

U JA

MA CED

ONI A

(To Greece 1881)

1878

Belgrade

Constantinople

0 100 200 miles

Adriatic Sea

Aegean Sea

Black Sea

Mediterranean Sea

Danube R.

A U S T R I A - H U N G A R Y

ITALY

GREECE

OTTOMAN EMPIRE

ROMANIA

RUSSIA

BOSNIA (Annexed 1908)

SERBIA

MONTENEGRO

BULGARIA EAST RUMELIA

1914

ALBANIA (Independent) (To Greece 1913)

(To Bulgaria 1885)

1913

(To Serbia 1913)

(To Bulgaria 1913)

Belgrade

Sarajevo

Constantinople

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confl icts in the politically bankrupt parts of Europe, through the alliance system, dragged

the more advanced parts automatically into ruin.

The German Empire, too, faced an internal crisis. The Social Democrats became the

largest party in the Reichstag in 1912. Their sentiments for the most part were antimilita-

rist and antiwar. But the German imperial government recognized no responsibility to a

majority in the chamber. Policy was determined by men of the old unreconstructed upper

class, in which army and navy interests, now reinforced by new business interests, were

strong; and even moderates and liberals shared in the ambition to make Germany a world

power, the equal of any. The perplexities the ruling groups faced at home, the feeling that

their position was being undermined by the Social Democrats, may have made them more

willing to view war as a way out. And while it is not true that Germany alone started the

war, as its enemies in 1914 popularly believed, it must be granted that its policies had for

some years been peremptory, arrogant, devious, and obstinate. In a broad sense, the emer-

gence of a consolidated industrial Germany after 1870, making its bid for world-power

status relatively late, was a distant and basic cause of war.

The alliance system was only a symptom of deeper trouble. In a word, the world had

an international economy but an anarchic system of competing, sovereign national states.

Economically, each European people now required habitual contact with the world as a

whole. Each national population was to that extent dependent and insecure. Industrial

countries were especially vulnerable, relying as they did on the import of raw materi-

als and food and on the expanding export of goods, services, or capital in return. There

was, however, no world state to police the worldwide system, assuring participation in

the world economy to all nations under all conditions. Each nation had to take care of

itself. This international competition for economic and political advantages generated

much of the popular support for nationalist political ideologies and much of the drive for

imperialism, in which each Great Power tried to stake out part of the world system

for itself. Both nationalism and the new imperialism intensifi ed the quest for allies and

for binding alliances. The alliances, in a world that was in the strict sense anarchic (and

seemed likely to remain so), were a means by which each nation attempted to bolster its

security; to assure that it would not be cut off, conquered, or subjected to another’s will;

and to obtain some hope of economic success in the competitive struggle for use of the

world’s goods.

82. THE ARMED STALEMATE

The First World War lasted over four years, from 1914 to the end of 1918, the United

States entering with effective result in the last year. Germany and its allies were called the

Central Powers, while the Entente governments were termed the Allies. The war was

appalling in its human costs; on the western front, more men were used and killed in the

First World War than in the Second.

At fi rst a short war, as in 1870, was universally expected. The German General Staff

had its plans ready for a two-front struggle against France and Russia. The disadvantage

of fi ghting on two fronts was offset by the possession of good rail lines,

which allowed the rapid shuttling of troops from one front to the other. The

German war plan, known as the Schlieffen Plan, rested upon this fact. The

idea was fi rst to defeat France by the rapid wheeling motion of a tremen-

dous army through Belgium and then to turn at more leisure against Russia, whose great

size and less-developed railways would make its deployment much slower.

The Schlieffen Plan

82. The Armed Stalemate

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Chapter 17 The First World War700

The War on Land, 1914–1916

On August 3, 1914, the Germans launched 78 infantry divisions in a massive invasion

toward the West. They were opposed by 72 French divisions, 5 British, and 6 Belgian. The

Germans swept irresistibly forward. The Schlieffen Plan seemed to be moving like clock-

work. Germany’s civilian authorities made plans for the conquest and annexation of large

parts of Europe. Then a hitch occurred: the Russians were fulfi lling the terms of their

THE FIRST WORLD WAR Land fi ghting in the First World War was mainly confi ned to the areas shown by the darker horizontal shading. The huge battles on the western front, which produced more casualties than all of the battles in the West during the Second World War, swayed back and forth over an area less than 100 miles wide.

0 100 200 miles

The Central Powers

Occupied Areas

Areas of Major Fighting

N o r t h S e a

Black Sea

B a lt

ic S e

a Marne

R .

A driatic

Sea

Dardanelles

Masurian Lakes

BELGIUM

F R A N C E

LUX.

ITALY

A U S T R I A - H U N G A R Y

GREECE

R U S S I A

ALBANIA

MONTENEGRO BULGARIA

ROMANIA

SERBIA

SWITZERLAND

JUTLAND

POLAND

EAST PRUSSIA

G E

R M

A N

Y

A RG

O NNE

WESTERN FRONT

ITALIAN FRONT

BALKAN FRONT GALLIPOLI

EASTERN FRONT

PRIPET MARSHES

Farthest German Advance, 1918

D ec., 1915

UKRAINE

GREAT BRITAIN

TURKEY

Berlin

Paris

London

Vienna

Constantinople

Brest-Litovsk

St. Petersburg

Riga

Passchen- daele

Chateau- Thierry

Verdun

Caporetto

Odessa

Tannenberg

Rome

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Almost everyone in 1914 expected a short war and a quick resolution of the international cri- sis. These German soldiers at the Berlin railway station were preparing to board trains that would take them to the front. Accompanied by their wives or girlfriends and carrying fl owers, they departed Berlin amid the optimistic fanfare that spread across all Europe in the early days of the war. (akg-images/Newscom)

alliance; the 10 billion francs invested by the French in Russia now paid their most signifi -

cant dividend. The Russians pushed two armies into Germany, penetrating into East

Prussia. The German commander, Helmuth von Moltke, withdrew forces from the German

right wing in France, on August 26, for service in the East. The Germans moved on, but

their striking arm was weakened and their lines of communication were already overex-

tended. General Joffre, the French commander, regrouping his forces with

strong support from the relatively small British contingent and at exactly

the right moment, ordered a counterattack.

The ensuing battle of the Marne, fought from September 5 to 12,

changed the whole character of the war. The German invasion was stopped,

The battle of the

Marne

82. The Armed Stalemate

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Chapter 17 The First World War702

and the German army had to retreat. The hope of felling France at a single blow was ended.

Each side now tried to outfl ank and destroy the other until the battle lines extended to the

sea. The Germans failed to win control of the Channel ports; French and British communi-

cations remained uninterrupted. For these reverses the great victories meanwhile won by

the Germans on the eastern front, though of gigantic proportions (the battles of Tannen-

berg and the Masurian Lakes, at which 225,000 Russians were captured), were in the long

run small consolation.

In the West the war of movement now settled into a war of position. The armies on the

western front became almost immobile. The units of horse cavalry—the uhlans, hussars,

and lancers that had pranced off to war in high spirits—disappeared from

the fi eld. Because aviation was barely beginning, and motor transport was

still new (the armies had trucks, but no self-propelled guns, and no tanks

until very late in the war), the basic soldier more than ever was the man on

foot. The most deadly new weapon was the machine gun, which made it impossible for

foot soldiers to advance across open fi elds without overwhelming artillery preparation.

The result was a long military stalemate in which the indispensable infantry sought protec-

tion in a vast network of trenches.

In 1915 the Germans and Austro-Hungarians put their main effort into an attempt to

knock out Russia. They pressed far into the tsarist empire. The Russian losses were

enormous—2 million killed, wounded, or captured in 1915 alone. But at the end of the

year the Russian army was still fi ghting. Meanwhile the British and French, hoping to open

up communications with Russia, launched a naval attack on Ottoman Turkey, which had

joined the war as a German ally. Aiming at Constantinople by way of the Dardanelles, the

British and French poured 450,000 men into the narrow peninsula of Gallipoli. Large con-

tingents of the invading Allied army were drawn from colonized populations in Asia and

Africa and from Australia and New Zealand, but the campaign soon stalled in another

deadly stalemate. Almost 400,000 Ottoman and Allied soldiers were killed or wounded,

including more than 140,000 in the British-French expeditionary forces. After almost a

year the Allies abandoned the enterprise as a costly failure.

In 1916 both sides turned again to northern France in an attempt to break the dead-

lock. The Allies planned a great offensive along the river Somme, while the Germans

prepared for a new assault in the neighborhood of Verdun. The Germans attacked Verdun

in February. The French commander Joffre put in General Pétain to defend

it but resisted committing his main reserves, holding them for the coming

offensive on the Somme. Pétain and his troops, held to minimum numbers,

War in the trenches

The battle of Verdun

The German and Allied armies settled into trenches across the entire western front after 1914. Despite repeated, deadly attempts to achieve offensive breakthroughs, neither side could gain strategic advantages or signifi cantly change the long-entrenched positions. These vulnerable French soldiers were stationed in a “departure trench,” preparing for one of the many futile assaults during the protracted mili- tary stalemate. (Library of Congress [LC-USZ62-93510])

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703

thus had to take the full weight of the German army. The battle of Verdun lasted almost ten

months, engaged about 2 million soldiers, and became a legend of determined French

resistance (“they shall not pass”). The Germans fi nally abandoned the attack because they

sustained almost as many casualties as the French—330,000 to 350,000.

While the inferno still raged at Verdun, the Allies opened their offen-

sive on the Somme in July. They brought up unheard of amounts of artil-

lery, and the newly raised British army was present in force. The idea was

to break through the German line simply by stupendous pressure. On both

sides, Allied and German, the art of generalship had sunk to an all-time

low. Despite a weeklong artillery bombardment the British lost 60,000 men on the fi rst day

of the attack. In a week they had advanced only 1 mile along a 6-mile front. In a month

they had advanced less than 3 miles. The battle of the Somme, lasting from July to

October, cost the Germans about 500,000 men, the British 400,000, and the French

The battle of the

Somme

The miseries and dangers on the western front are conveyed in this photograph of soldiers in the battle of Passchendaele in 1917. Human life in such conditions became a raw struggle for survival; most soldiers reported that the grinding, daily experience on a battlefi eld seemed far removed from the nationalism or political concerns of civilians and government leaders. (Paul Popper/Popperfoto/Getty Images)

82. The Armed Stalemate

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Chapter 17 The First World War704

200,000. Nothing of any value had been gained. It was, indeed, at the Somme that the Brit-

ish fi rst used the tank, an armored vehicle with caterpillar tracks that could crash through

barbed wire, lunge over trenches, and smash into machine gun nests; but the tanks were

introduced in such small numbers, and with such skepticism on the part of many com-

manders, that they had no effect on the battle.

The War at Sea

With land armies thus bogged down on all fronts both sides looked to the sea. The long

preponderance of British sea power, and the more recent Anglo-German naval race, would

now be tested. The British, with French aid, imposed a strict naval block-

ade. International law at the time placed goods headed for a country at war

into two classes. One class was called contraband; it included munitions

and certain specifi ed raw materials that might be used in the manufacture

of military equipment. The other class, including foodstuffs and raw cotton, was defi ned

as noncontraband. A country was supposed, by international law, to be able to import

Naval blockade

The belligerent nations of Europe suffered more casualties in the First World War than in any previous European confl ict. The fi ghting also destroyed large areas of the countryside as well as whole towns that became part of the battlefi eld. Examples of such destruction can be seen around these British soldiers who were advancing near the front in Flanders in 1917. (Ingram Publishing)

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noncontraband goods even in wartime. These terms of wartime law had been set forth as

recently as 1909 at an international conference in London. The purpose was to make it

impossible for a sea power (that is, the British) to starve out an enemy in wartime or even

to interfere with normal civilian production. The jealousy of Continental Europe for Brit-

ish sea power was an old story.

Such law, if observed, would make the blockade of Germany entirely ineffective, and

the Allies did not observe it. To starve out the enemy and ruin his economy was pre-

cisely their purpose. Economic warfare took its place alongside armed attack as a military

weapon, as in the days of Napoleon. The Allies announced a new international law. The

distinction between contraband and noncontraband was gradually abolished. The British

navy (aided by the French) proceeded to stop all goods of whatever character destined for

Germany or its allies. Neutrals, among whom the Americans, Dutch, and Scandinavians

were the ones mainly affected, were not allowed to make for German ports at all.

The United States protested vehemently against these regulations and defended the

rights of neutrals. It reasserted the distinction between contraband and noncontraband,

claimed the right to trade with other neutrals, and upheld the “freedom of the seas.” These

claims led to mutual bad feelings between the American and British governments in 1915 and

1916. But when the United States entered the war, it adopted the Allied position, and its navy

joined in enforcing exactly the same regulations. International law was in fact changed. In the

Second World War the very words “contraband” and “freedom of the seas” were never heard.

The Germans countered with an attempt to blockade England. A few isolated German

cruisers were able for some time to destroy British shipping. But the Germans relied

mainly on the submarine, against which the British naval power at fi rst

seemed helpless. The submarine was an unrefi ned weapon; a submarine

commander could not always tell what kind of ship he was attacking, nor

could he remove passengers, confi scate cargo, escort the vessel, or indeed do much except

sink it. Citing British abuses of international law in justifi cation, the German government

in February 1915 declared the waters surrounding the British Isles to be a war zone, in

which Allied vessels would be torpedoed and neutral vessels would be in grave danger.

Three months later the liner Lusitania was torpedoed off the Irish coast. About 1,200 persons were drowned, including about 120 Ameri-

can citizens. The Lusitania was a British ship; it carried munitions of war manufactured in the United States for Allied use; and the Germans had

published ominous warnings in the New York papers that Americans should not take pas-

sage on it. Americans then believed that they should be able to sail safely, on peaceable

errands, on the ship of a belligerent power in wartime. The loss of life shocked people in

the United States. President Wilson informed the Germans that another such act would be

considered “deliberately unfriendly.” The Germans, to avoid trouble, refrained for two

years from making full use of their submarines. For two years the Allied use of the sea was

only partly impeded.

Allied access to the sea was confi rmed by the one great naval engagement of the war,

the battle of Jutland. The German admirals became restless at seeing their newly built navy

skulking behind minefi elds on the German shores, yet they could not presume to challenge

the superior British Grand Fleet, posted watchfully at Scapa Flow. They hoped, however,

to decoy smaller formations of British ships, destroy them one by one, and perhaps eventu-

ally obtain enough of a naval balance in the North Sea to loosen the British blockade by

which Germany was slowly being strangled. They were themselves, however, trapped into

a major engagement in which the British Grand Fleet of 151 ships took them by surprise in

Submarine warfare

The Lusitania

82. The Armed Stalemate

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Chapter 17 The First World War706

the spring of 1916. After a few hours of furious combat the Germans were able to with-

draw into mined waters. They had lost less tonnage and fewer men than the British. They

had proved themselves to be dangerously profi cient in naval combat. But they had failed to

undermine the British preponderance at sea.

Diplomatic Maneuvers and Secret Agreements

With no military solution in sight, both sides looked about for new allies.

The Ottoman Empire, fearing Russia, had joined Germany and Austria-

Hungary as early as October 1914. The leading prospective ally was

Italy, which, though formally a member of the Triple Alliance, had long

ago drifted away from it. Both sides solicited the Italian government, which

bargained imperturbably with both. The Italian public was divided, but extreme nation-

alists saw a chance to obtain their irredenta, the border regions in which Italians lived outside the national territory that had been incorporated at the time of national unifi cation.

The Italian government therefore cast its lot with the Allies in the secret treaty of London

of 1915. It was agreed that if the Allies won the war, Italy would receive (from Austria)

the Trentino, the south Tyrol, Istria and the city of Trieste, and some of the Dalmatian

Islands. If Britain and France took over Germany’s African colonies, Italy should receive

additional territory in Libya and Somaliland. The treaty of London, in short, continued the

most brazen prewar practices of territorial expansionism, but the Allies were desperate for

additional military support. Italy, thus bought, and probably against the will of most Ital-

ians, opened up a front against Austria-Hungary in May 1915.

The Allies likewise made plans for a fi nal partition of the Ottoman Empire, which still

reached from Constantinople through the Middle East into Arabia and into Mesopotamia

(modern Iraq). By a secret treaty they agreed that, upon an Allied victory, Mesopotamia

was to go to Britain, Syria and southeastern Asia Minor to France, small portions to Italy,

and Kurdistan and Armenia to Russia. The prewar attitudes and practices of European

imperialism thus continued to guide the governments in every warring nation of Europe.

Each side also tampered with minorities and discontented groups living within the

domains of the other. The Germans promised an independent Poland to embarrass Russia.

They stirred up local nationalism in Ukraine. They raised up a pro–German Flemish move-

ment in Belgium. They persuaded the Ottoman sultan, as caliph, to proclaim a holy war in

North Africa, hoping that irate Muslims would drive the British from Egypt and the French

from Algeria. This had no success. German agents worked in Ireland and one Irish nation-

alist, Sir Roger Casement, landed in Ireland from a German submarine, precipitating the

Easter Rebellion of 1916, which was suppressed by the British.

To Americans the most amazing of similar activities was the Zimmer-

mann telegram. In 1916 an American military force had crossed the Mexican

border in pursuit of bandits, against protests by the Mexican government.

Relations between the United States and Germany were also deteriorat-

ing. In January 1917 the German state secretary for foreign affairs, Arthur

Zimmermann, dispatched a telegram to the German minister at Mexico City, telling him

what to say to the Mexican president. He was to say that if the United States went to war

with Germany, the Germans would form an alliance with Mexico and if possible Japan,

enabling Mexico to get back its “lost territories.” These latter referred to the region con-

quered by the United States from Mexico in the 1840s—Texas, New Mexico, and Arizona

(California was not mentioned). Zimmermann’s telegram was intercepted and decoded by

Italy joins the Allies

The Zimmermann

telegram

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the British, who sent it to Washington. Printed in the newspapers, it shocked public opin-

ion in the United States.

The Allies were more successful in appealing to nationalist discontent, for the obvious

reason that the most active national minorities were within the lands of their enemies. They

were able to promise restoration of Alsace-Lorraine to France without diffi culty. They prom-

ised independence to the Poles, though anticipating some diffi culty as long as the Russian

monarchy stood. It was easier for them to favor national independence for Czechs, Slovaks,

and South Slavs, because an Allied victory would dissolve the Austro-Hungarian Empire.

But the Allied use of nationalist ambitions also extended from Europe into the Otto-

man Empire and beyond. Within the Ottoman Empire the British aroused Arab hopes for

independence. The British Colonel T. E. Lawrence led an insurrection against the Turks in

the northwestern Arabian Peninsula—a region called the Hejaz that includes the Muslim

holy city of Mecca. Encouraged by Lawrence and the British to pursue aspirations for an

independent Arab state, the emir Hussein of Hejaz in 1916 took the title of

King of the Arabs and established a kingdom that reached from the Red

Sea to the Persian Gulf. Meanwhile, Zionists saw in the impending Otto-

man collapse the opportunity to realize their dream for a Jewish state in

Disruption in the

Ottoman Empire

Colonel T. E. Lawrence emerged as the key British liaison to Arab forces fi ghting for indepen- dence from the Ottoman Empire during the First World War. He appears in this photograph at Versailles (wearing a British army uniform and Arab headdress) behind the left shoulder of Prince Faisal, who became the British-appointed King of Iraq in 1921. (Bettmann/Corbis)

82. The Armed Stalemate

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Chapter 17 The First World War708

Palestine. Because Palestine was peopled by Arabs (and had been for over 1,000 years)

the Zionist program collided with British plans to sponsor Arab nationalism. Neverthe-

less, the British Foreign Secretary, Arthur Balfour, issued the famous Balfour Declaration

in 1917, promising the British government’s support for the idea of a “Jewish homeland”

in Palestine (though with protection for the rights of non-Jewish peoples) and also setting

the foundations for a clash between Jewish and Arab nationalism, which has affl icted the

Middle East down to the present.

For the Armenians these years were especially disastrous. They were a Christian people

living in the eastern part of the Anatolian peninsula where it abuts on Russia, and like other

peoples in the Ottoman Empire, including the Turks themselves, they had developed aspira-

tions for a national state of their own, which confl icted with the plans of Turkish reformers

to make the empire more Turkish. It was only 20 years since such clashes had produced

the horrifying Armenian massacres of 1894. Now in 1915 the Turkish government, as the

Russian army threatened its eastern frontier, ordered the deportation of Armenians from

the war zone as potential sympathizers with Russia and the Western Allies. Supposedly

they were to be resettled in Syria and Palestine. In fact, in the atmosphere of military crisis,

political hatred, bureaucratic contempt, and wartime scarcities hundreds of thousands of

Armenians perished in what most historians describe as a genocidal massacre. Virtually

no Armenians remained within the territories that became the Turkish republic a few years

later. The surviving Armenians became another of the world’s scattered peoples with no

state of their own except for a small Armenian republic, briefl y independent after 1918,

then part of the Soviet Union for 70 years, and fi nally independent again after 1991.

At the same time that they were seeking to disrupt and dismember the Ottoman

Empire, the British and French were using the war as an opportunity to take control of the

German colonies in Africa. The British foreign secretary, Sir Edward Grey, revealed to

Colonel House, President Wilson’s personal emissary, that the Allies did not intend that

Germany should ever get its colonies back, though it also became clear that they did not

intend to grant true independence to the people who lived there.

In China, too, the third important area of imperialist competition, the war accelerated

the tendencies of preceding years. The Japanese saw their own opportunity in the self-

slaughter of the Europeans. Japan had been allied to Britain since 1902, and in August 1914

the Japanese declared war on Germany. They soon overran the German con-

cessions in China and the German islands in the Pacifi c, the Marshalls

and Carolines. In January 1915 Japan presented its Twenty-One Demands

on China, a secret ultimatum for further concessions, most of which the

Chinese were obliged to accept. Japan thereby proceeded to turn Manchuria and north

China into an exclusive protectorate.

As for the Germans, their war aims were even more expansionist and

more menacing to existing boundaries within Europe itself. Early in Sep-

tember 1914, when a quick victory seemed within their grasp, Bethmann-

Hollweg, who remained chancellor until the summer of 1917, drew up a list

of German war aims, which stayed unaltered until the end of hostilities. The plans called for

an enlarged German Empire dominating all central Europe and annexations or satellites in

both western and eastern Europe. In the east, Lithuania and other parts of the Baltic coast

were to become German dependencies, large sections of Poland were to be directly annexed,

and the remainder was to be joined with Austrian Galicia to form a German-dominated Pol-

ish state. In the west, Belgium was to become a German dependency to provide more direct

access to the Atlantic, and French Lorraine with its rich iron ore was to be added to the

Japan in China

German expansionism

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709

already German parts of Alsace-Lorraine. Colonial adjustments, including the acquisition

of most of central Africa from coast to coast, were also projected. The political map of

Europe and of colonial Africa would thus be transformed in Germany’s favor.

All these developments, especially the Allied negotiations, whether accomplished

facts or secret agreements, affecting Europe, the Middle East, Asia, or Africa, became very

troublesome later at the peace conference. They continued some of the most unsettling ten-

dencies of European politics before the war. It does not appear that the Allies, until driven

by Woodrow Wilson, gave any thought to controlling postwar nationalism or what could

be called international anarchy. As president of the United States, Wilson for a long time

could see little to choose between the warring alliances, though his personal sympathies

were with England and France. In 1916 he attempted to mediate, entering into confi dential

discussions with both sides; but both still hoped to win on their own terms, so negotiation

was fruitless. Wilson judged that most Americans wished to remain unin-

volved in European confl icts, and in November 1916 he was reelected to

a second term, on the popular cry “he kept us out of war.” Wilson urged a

true neutrality of thought and feeling, or a settlement, as he said, that should

be a “peace without victory.”

As of the end of 1916, it is hard to see how the First World War would have turned out

had not two new sets of forces altered the stalemate.

83. THE COLLAPSE OF RUSSIA AND THE INTERVENTION OF THE UNITED STATES

The Withdrawal of Russia: Revolution and the Treaty of Brest-Litovsk

The fi rst great governmental victim of the First World War was the Russian Empire. As the

Russo-Japanese War had led to the Revolution of 1905 in Russia, so the more ruinous

confl ict in Europe led to the far greater Revolution of 1917. The story of the Russian Revo-

lution is told in the following chapter. It is enough to say here that war offered a prolonged

test that the tsarist government could not meet. Bungling, dishonest, and secretive, inca-

pable of supplying the materiel required for modern fi ghting, driving hordes of peasants

into battle in some cases even without rifl es, losing men by the millions yet offering no

goal to inspire sacrifi ce, the tsarist regime lost the loyalty of all elements of its people.

In March 1917 the troops in St. Petersburg mutinied, while strikes and riots desolated

the city. The Duma, or Russian parliament, used the occasion to press its demands for

reform, which the tsarist government was unwilling and unable to address.

On March 15 Nicholas II abdicated. A provisional government took over,

made up of liberal noblemen and middle-class leaders, generally demo-

crats and constitutionalists, with at fi rst only one socialist. The provisional

government held power from March to November 1917. Its members,

who shared in the liberalism of western Europe, believed that a liberal and parliamentary

regime could not succeed in Russia unless the German Empire were defeated. They took

steps, therefore, to prosecute the war with a new vigor. In July 1917 a new offensive was

opened, but the demoralized Russian armies again collapsed.

The mass of the Russian people would no longer support a war in which they were

asked to suffer so much for so little. Nor did Russian peasants or workers feel any enthusi-

asm for the European-style intellectuals and professional men who headed the provisional

government. Ordinary Russians, insofar as they had any politics, were drawn to one or

A “peace without

victory”

The provisional

government

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Chapter 17 The First World War710

another of numerous forms of socialism, Marxist and non-Marxist. The Russian Marxist

Party, the Social Democrats, was divided between Menshevik and Bolshevik factions, the

latter being more radical. The Bolshevik leaders had for some time lived as exiles in west-

ern Europe. Their principal spokesman, V. I. Lenin, with a few others, had

spent the war years in Switzerland. In April 1917 the German government

offered safe passage to Lenin through Germany to Russia. A railway car full

of Bolsheviks, carefully “sealed” to prevent infection of Germany, was thus

hauled by a German train to the frontier, whence it passed on to St. Peters-

burg, or Petrograd, as the city was renamed during the war. The aim of the Germans in this

affair, as in the sending of Roger Casement to Ireland in a submarine, was of course to use

a kind of psychological warfare against the enemy’s home front. It was to promote rebellion

against the provisional government and thus at last to eliminate Russia from the war.

The position of the Provisional Government became rapidly more untenable until by

November 1917 the situation was so confused that Lenin and the Bolsheviks were able to

seize power. The Bolsheviks stood for peace with Germany, partly to win popular favor in

Russia and partly because they regarded the war as a struggle among capitalist, imperialist

powers that should be left to exhaust and destroy each other for the benefi t of socialism. On

December 3, 1917, a peace conference opened between the Bolsheviks and the Germans at

Brest-Litovsk. Meanwhile the peoples within the western border of the old Russia—Poles,

Ukrainians, Bessarabians, Estonians, Latvians, Finns—with German back-

ing, proclaimed their national independence. The Bolsheviks, because they

would not or could not fi ght, were obliged to sign with Germany a treaty

to which they vehemently objected, the treaty of Brest-Litovsk of March 3,

1918. By this treaty they acknowledged the “independence,” or at least the

loss to Russia, of Poland, Ukraine, Finland, and the Baltic provinces.

For the Germans the treaty of Brest-Litovsk represented their maximum success dur-

ing the First World War; it accomplished some of the war aims formulated at the beginning

of hostilities. Not only had they neutralized Russia, they also now dominated eastern

Europe through political puppets placed at the head of the new independent states. A cer-

tain number of German troops remained in the East to preserve the new arrangements. But

it was no longer a two-front war. Masses of the German army were shifted from east to

west. The High Command, under the leadership of generals Hindenburg and Ludendorff

since August 1916, prepared to launch a fi nal assault in France to end the war in 1918.

The year 1918 was essentially a race to see whether American aid could reach Europe

soon enough, in suffi cient amount, to offset the added strength that Germany drew from

the collapse of Russia. In March of that year the Germans, beginning with gas attacks and

a bombardment by 6,000 artillery pieces, opened a formidable offensive before which the

French and British both recoiled. On May 30, 1918, the Germans again

stood at the Marne, 37 miles from Paris. There were still only two Ameri-

can divisions in action in France, though the United States had been at war

for over a year. At this point in the story of the Great War there are there-

fore two open questions: how the United States entered the war and the length of time

required for the buildup of its forces overseas.

The United States and the War

We have seen how President Wilson clung persistently to neutrality. The

American people were divided, in part because of their diverse histori-

cal connections with Europe. Many had been born in Europe or were the

The Bolsheviks return

from exile

The treaty of

Brest-Litovsk

American intervention

America divided

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711

children of immigrants. Those of Irish origin were anti-British; those of German origin were

often sympathetic to Germany. On the other hand, since the time of the Spanish-American

and Boer wars, a noticeable current of friendliness to the English had been running stronger

than ever before in American history. The sale of war materiel to the Allies and the pur-

chase of the bonds of Allied governments had given certain limited though infl uential cir-

cles a material interest in an Allied victory. American idealism was on the side of England

and France, insofar as it was not isolationist. An Allied victory would clearly advance the

cause of democracy, freedom, and progress far more than a victory of the German Empire.

On the other hand, England and France were suspected of somewhat impure motives, and

they were allied with the Russian autocracy, the reactionary and brutal tsardom.

The fall of tsarism made a great impression. Democrats and progressives now came

forward even in Russia. No one had heard of Lenin or could foresee the Bolshevik Revo-

lution. It seemed in the spring of 1917 that Russia was struggling along the path that

England, France, and America had already taken. An ideological barrier had dropped

away, and the demand for American intervention to safeguard democracy became more

insistent.

The Germans gave up the attempt to keep the United States out. Constricted ever more

tightly by the blockade, and failing to get a decision on land, the German government and

High Command listened more readily to the submarine experts, who declared that if given

a free hand they could force British surrender in six months. Civilian and diplomatic mem-

bers of the government objected, fearing the consequences of war with the United States.

They were overruled; it was a good example of the way in which, in Ger-

many, the army and navy had taken the highest policy into their hands.

Unrestricted submarine warfare was to be resumed on February 1, 1917. It

was foreseen that the United States would declare war, but the German

High Command believed that this would make no immediate difference. They estimated in

1917 (correctly) that there would be about a year between the time when the United States

entered a European war and the time when it could take part with its own army. Mean-

while, the planners said, in six months they could force Britain to accept defeat.

On January 31, 1917, the Germans notifi ed Wilson of the resumption of unrestricted

submarine attacks. They announced that they would sink on sight all merchant ves-

sels found in a zone around the British Isles or in the Mediterranean. Wilson broke off

diplomatic relations and ordered the arming of American freighters. Meanwhile, the pub-

lication of the Zimmermann telegram convinced many Americans of German aggressive-

ness. German secret agents also had been at work in America, fomenting strikes and causing

explosions in factories engaged in the manufacture of munitions for the Allies. In Febru-

ary and March several American ships were sunk. Americans regarded all

these activities as an interference with their rights as neutrals. Wilson at last

concluded that Germany was a menace. Having made his decision, he now

saw a clear-cut issue between right and wrong. Wilson obtained a rousing

declaration of war from Congress, on April 6, 1917, and the United States

went to war against Germany “to make the world safe for democracy.”

At fi rst the German campaign realized and even exceeded the predictions of its spon-

sors. In February 1917 the Germans sank 540,000 tons of shipping; in March, 578,000

tons; April, as the days grew longer, 874,000 tons. Something akin to terror seized the

government in London. Britain was reduced to a six-week reserve of food. Gradually

countermeasures were developed—mine barges, hydrophones, depth charges, airplane

reconnaissance, and most of all the convoy. It was found that a hundred or more freighters

together, though all had to steam at the pace of the slowest, could be protected by a

Unrestricted subma-

rine warfare

“To make the world

safe for democracy”

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Chapter 17 The First World War712

suffi cient concentration of warships to keep submarines away. The United States navy,

which, unlike the army, was of considerable size and ready for combat, supplied enough

additional force to the Allies to make convoying and other antisubmarine measures highly

effective. By the end of 1917 the submarine was no more than a nuisance. For the Germans

the great plan ultimately produced the anticipated penalty without the reward—its net

result was only to add America to their enemies.

On the western front in 1917, while the Americans desperately got

themselves ready for the war they had entered, the French and British

continued to hold the line. The French, fi nding in General Nivelle a com-

mander who still believed in the breakthrough, launched an offensive so

unsuccessful and so bloody that mutiny spread through the French army.

Pétain replaced Nivelle and restored discipline to the exhausted and disillusioned soldiers,

but he had no thought of further attack. “I am waiting for the Americans and the tanks,” he

said. The British then assumed the main burden. For 3 months late in 1917 they fought the

dismal battle of Passchendaele. They advanced 5 miles, near Ypres, at a cost of 400,000

men. At the very end of 1917 the British surprised the Germans with a raid by 380 tanks,

which penetrated deep into the German lines, but were obliged to withdraw, because no

reserve of fresh infantry was at hand to exploit their success.

Meanwhile the Austro-Hungarians, strongly reinforced by German troops, over-

whelmed the Italians at the disastrous battle of Caporetto. The Central Powers streamed

into northern Italy, but the Italians, with British and French reinforcements, were able to

hold the line. The net effect of the campaigns of 1917 and of the repulse of the submarine

at the same time was to reemphasize the stalemate in Europe, incline the weary Allies to

await the Americans, and give the Americans what they most needed—time.

The Americans made good use of the time given them. Conscription, which was

democratically called selective service, was adopted immediately after the declaration of

war. The United States Army, whose professionals in 1916 numbered only

130,000, performed the mammoth feat of turning over 3.5 million civilians

into soldiers. With the navy, the United States came to have over 4 mil-

lion in its armed services (which may be compared with over 12 million in

the Second World War). Aid fl owed to the Allies in Europe. To the loans

already made through private bankers were added some $10 billion lent by the American

government itself. The Allies used the money mainly to buy food and munitions in the

United States. American farms and factories, which had already prospered by selling to

the Allies during the period of neutrality, now broke all records for production. Civilian

industry was converted to war uses; radiator factories turned out guns, and piano facto-

ries manufactured airplane wings. Every possible means was employed to build up ocean

shipping, without which neither American supplies nor American armies could reach the

theater of war. Available shipping was increased from one million to ten million tons.

Civilian consumption was drastically reduced. Eight thousand tons of steel were saved

in the manufacture of women’s corsets and 75,000 tons of tin were spared in the making

of children’s toy wagons. Every week people observed meatless Tuesday, and sugar was

rationed. Daylight-saving time, invented in Europe during the war, was introduced to save

coal. By such means the United States made enormous stocks available for its European

Allies as well as itself, though for some items, notably airplanes and artillery ammunition,

the American armies, when they reached France, drew heavily on British and French man-

ufactures. The deepening involvement in Europe’s Great War therefore pushed the United

States to develop a more active national government and to collaborate more closely than

ever before with the western European states and peoples.

The French and

British hold the line

America mobilizes

for war

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713

The Final Phase of the War

The Germans, as we have seen, victorious in the east, opened a great fi nal offensive in the

west in the spring of 1918, hoping to force a decision before American participation turned

the balance forever. To oppose the new German assault, a unity of command was achieved

for the fi rst time when a French general, Ferdinand Foch, was made commander in chief of

all Allied forces in France, with the national commanders subordinate to him, including

Pershing for the Americans. In June the Germans fi rst made contact with American troops

in signifi cant force, meeting the Second Division at Château-Thierry. The German position

was so favorable that civilians in the German government thought it opportune to make a

last effort at a compromise peace. The military, headed by Hindenburg and Ludendorff,

successfully blocked any such attempts; they preferred one fi nal gamble. The German

armies reached their farthest advance on July 15 along the Marne.

There were now nine American divisions in the Allied line. Foch used them to spear-

head his counterattack on July 18. The badly overstrained Germans began to falter. Over

250,000 American troops were now landing in France every month. The fi nal Allied

offensive that opened in September, with American troops in the Argonne occupying an

eastern sector, proved more than the Germans could withstand. The Ger-

man High Command notifi ed its government that it could not win the war.

The German foreign offi ce made peace overtures to President Wilson. An

armistice was arranged, and on November 11, 1918, fi ring ceased on the

western front.

Because Germany’s allies had surrendered during the preceding weeks, the deadly,

grinding battles were fi nally over, but the war continued to affect almost every aspect of

European politics and society. The horror it brought to individual lives cannot be told by

statistics, which dryly report that almost 10 million men had been killed and 20 million had

been wounded. Each of the European Great Powers (except Italy) lost from 1 million to

2 million in killed alone. The United States, with some 330,000 casualties of all types (of

whom 115,000 died) lost in the entire war fewer men than the main combat-

ants had lost in single battles such as Verdun or Passchendaele; but American

assistance was decisive in the defeat of Germany. It came late in the war,

when the others had been struggling for almost 4 years, so that the mere

beginnings of American military action were enough to turn the scale. On the

date of the armistice there were 2 million American soldiers in France, and another million

were on the way. But the American army had really been in combat only 4 months. During

the whole year of 1918, out of every hundred artillery shells that were fi red by the three

Allied armies, the French fi red 51, the British fi red 43, and the Americans fi red only 6.

The war was thus less costly for the United States than for any of the other major

military powers. About 50,000 Americans were killed in battle. Most other deaths were

caused by disease, including the deadly infl uenza epidemic of 1918—which killed as

many as 43,000 U.S. soldiers over several months. The horrible toll of military deaths

in all countries during the World War was actually far surpassed in 1918–1919 by the

worldwide infl uenza pandemic that caused at least 50 million deaths across the globe.

A virulent new strain of virus (called the Spanish fl u) was the source of the disease, and

some historians now believe that perhaps up to 100 million persons died as it moved

through much of Africa, Latin America, and Asia as well as Europe and North America.

This rapidly spreading pandemic became one of the most deadly events in all of world

history, and it added to the profound sense of loss that affected people everywhere after

the Great War.

The armistice

Casualties of war

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Chapter 17 The First World War714

84. THE COLLAPSE OF THE AUSTRIAN AND GERMAN EMPIRES

The war proved as fatal to the German and Austro-Hungarian Empires as to the Russian.

The subject nationalities in the Austro-Hungarian Empire, or the “national councils” repre-

senting them in the Western capitals, obtained recognition from the Allies,

and in October 1918 declared their independence. The last Habsburg

emperor, Charles I, abdicated on November 12, and on the next day Austria

was proclaimed a republic, as was Hungary in the following week. Before

any peace conference could convene, the new states of Czechoslovakia,

Yugoslavia, an enlarged Romania, a republican Hungary, and a miniature republican

Austria were in existence by their own action.

The German Empire stood solid until the closing weeks. Liberals, democrats, and

socialists had lately begun to press for peace and democratization. Yet it was the High

Nationalities gain

independence

These American soldiers were part of the divisions that began to arrive in France during 1917, but the American military presence did not become signifi cant until the following year. The steady arrival of fresh troops from the United States enabled the Allied commanders to launch a decisive fi nal offensive, forced the German high command to recognize that Germany could not win the war, and contributed to the expanding involvement of the United States in all aspects of modern European history. (Hulton Archive/Getty Images)

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715

Command itself that precipitated the debacle. In the last years of the war dictatorial pow-

ers had become concentrated in the hands of General Ludendorff, and in September 1918

only he and his closest military associates realized that the German cause was hopeless.

On September 29, at supreme headquarters at Spa in Belgium, Ludendorff informed the

Kaiser that Germany must ask for peace. He urged that a new government be formed in

Berlin refl ecting the majority in the Reichstag, on democratic, parliamentary principles.

In calling for immediate peace negotiations, Ludendorff seems to have had two ideas

in mind. First, he might win time to regroup his armies and prepare a new offensive. Or if

collapse became unavoidable, then the army would not be blamed for the defeat because

the civilian or democratic elements would be the groups in Germany that sued for peace.

The liberal Prince Max of Baden was recruited to head a cabinet in which even social-

ists were included. In October various reforms were enacted, the Bismarckian system was

ended, and Germany became a liberal constitutional monarchy. These changes served the

purpose of Ludendorff and other generals because the German military caste, at the moment

of Germany’s crisis, was more eager to save the army than to save the empire. The army

must never admit surrender; that was an affair for small men in business suits. Emperor,

High Command, offi cers, and aristocrats were unloading frantically upon civilians.

President Wilson unwittingly played into their hands. Speaking now as the chief of the

Allied coalition, the one to whom peace overtures were fi rst made, he insisted that the

German government must become more democratic. It may be recalled

how Bismarck, after defeating France in 1871, demanded a general election

in France before making peace. Wilson, unlike Bismarck, really believed in

democracy; but in a practical way his position was the same. He wanted to

be sure that he was dealing with the German people rather than with a dis-

credited elite. He wanted it to be the real Germany that applied for and accepted the Allied

terms. In Germany, as realization of the military disaster spread, many people began to

regard the Kaiser as an obstacle to peace. Or they believed that Germany would obtain bet-

ter terms if it appeared before the Allies as a republic. Even the offi cer corps, to halt the

fi ghting before the army disintegrated, began to talk of abdication. Sailors mutinied at Kiel

on November 3, and councils of workers and soldiers were formed in various cities. The

socialists threatened to withdraw from the newly formed cabinet (that is, go into opposition

and end the representative nature of the new government) unless William II abdicated. A

general strike, led by minority socialists and syndicalists, began on November 9. “Abdica-

tion,” Prince Max told the emperor, “is a dreadful thing, but a government without the

socialists would be a worse danger for the country.” William II abdicated on November 9,

and slipped across the frontier into Holland, where despite cries to try him as a “war crimi-

nal” he lived quietly until his death in 1941. Germany was proclaimed a republic on the

day he abdicated. Two days later the war stopped.

The fall of the empire in Germany, with the consequent adoption of the republic,

did not arise from deep revolutionary action or change of basic sentiment in the German

people. It was an episode of the war. The republic (soon called the Wei-

mar Republic) arose because the victorious enemy demanded it, because

the German people craved peace, because they wished to avoid forcible

revolution, and because the old German military class, to save its face and

its future strength, wished at least temporarily to be excused from its previous role in

the German government. When the war ended, the German army was still in France, its

discipline and organization still apparently unimpaired. No hostile shot had been fi red on

German soil. It was said later, by some, that the army had not been defeated, that it had

been “stabbed in the back” by a dissolving civilian home front. This was untrue, but the

Democracy in

Germany

The Weimar

Republic

84. The Collapse of the Austrian and German Empires

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Chapter 17 The First World War716

myth became popular among many postwar German nationalists. It was actually the panic-

stricken Ludendorff who fi rst cried for “democracy.” But the circumstances in which the

German republic originated made its later history, and hence all later history, very troubled.

85. THE ECONOMIC, SOCIAL, AND CULTURAL IMPACT OF THE WAR

Effects on Capitalism: Government-Regulated Economies

European society was forced by the First World War into many basic changes that were to

prove more lasting than the war itself. First of all, the war profoundly affected capitalism

as previously known. Essential to the older capitalism (or economic liberalism, or free

private enterprise) had been the idea that government should leave business alone, or at the

most regulate certain general conditions under which businesses went about their affairs.

Before 1914 governments had increasingly entered the economic fi eld.

They had put up tariffs, protected national industries, searched for markets

or raw materials by imperialist expansion, or passed protective social legis-

lation to benefi t the wage-earning classes. During the war all governments

controlled their economies far more minutely. Indeed, the idea of the

“planned economy” was fi rst applied in the First World War as the warring states attempted

to direct all the wealth and moral purpose of their societies to a single end.

Historians often describe this vast confl ict as an example of the modern “total war.”

Such wars differ from “limited wars” or from earlier dynastic confl icts, which often had

little direct effect on most people in a warring society. The term “total war,” by contrast,

suggests how the various European states mobilized every component of

their armed forces, civilian populations, government institutions, economic

resources, social organizations, and cultural systems against enemies that

were deemed a mortal threat to the very existence of their nations. The

war’s enormous human and fi nancial costs required constant propaganda campaigns to

sustain civilian morale, recruit more soldiers, and counter a growing disillusionment with

leaders who could never achieve a decisive victory. “Total war” thus directly affected

every social group and almost every person in the belligerent countries.

Because in 1914 no one had expected a long war, no one had made plans for industrial

mobilization. Everything had to be improvised. By 1916 each government had set up a

system of boards, bureaus, councils, and commissions to coordinate its war effort. The aim

was to see that all labor was effectively utilized and that all natural resources within the

country, and all that could possibly be imported, were employed where they would do the

most good. In the stress of war free competition was found to be wasteful; undirected pri-

vate enterprise was found to be too uncertain and too slow. The profi t motive came into

disrepute. Those who exploited shortages to make big profi ts were stigmatized as

profi teers. Production for civilian use, or for mere luxury purposes, was cut to a minimum.

Businesses were not allowed to set up or close down factories as they chose. It was impos-

sible to start a new business without government approval, because the

fl otation of stocks and bonds was controlled and raw materials were made

available only as the government permitted. It was equally impossible to

shut down a business engaged in war production. If a factory was ineffi -

cient or unprofi table, the government kept it going anyway, making up the losses, so that

in some cases management came to expect government support. Here too the tests of com-

petition and profi tability were abandoned.

The “planned

economy”

Total war

The “rationalization”

of production

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717

The new goal was coordination or “rationalization” of production in the interests of

the country as a whole. Labor was discouraged from protesting against hours or wage

scales, and the big unions generally agreed to refrain from strikes. For the upper and mid-

dle classes it became embarrassing to show their comforts too openly. It was patriotic to eat

meagerly and to wear old clothes. War gave a new impetus even to the idea of economic

equality, if only as a wartime strategy to enlist rich and poor alike in a common cause.

Military conscription was the fi rst step in the allocation of manpower.

Draft boards told some men to report to the army, granting exemptions to

others to work safely in war industries. Given the casualty rates at the front,

state determination over individual life could hardly go farther. With the

insatiable need for troops, drawing in men originally exempted or at fi rst

rejected as physically inadequate, great numbers of women poured into factories and

offi ces, and in Britain even into newly organized women’s branches of the armed forces.

Women took over many jobs that most people had thought only men could do. Women did

not remain in the labor force after the war in such large numbers because they often gave

way to returning veterans; but the wartime experience in this and the Second World War

was part of the social transition by which the labor force in all countries was enlarged,

women’s place in modern society was revolutionized, and the lives and outlook of millions

of individual women were turned more actively toward public participation in national

economies. The First World War thus contributed to the redefi nition or reorganization of

women’s work—a social process that had begun in the early Industrial Revolution and that

would be intensifi ed during the Second World War and in the years that followed.

During the war governments did not directly force men or women to drop one

job and take another. There was no systematic labor conscription except in Germany.

But by infl uencing wage scales, granting draft exemptions, forcing some industries to

expand and others to contract or stand still, and propagandizing the idea that work in an

arms factory was patriotic, the state shifted vast numbers of workers to war production.

Impressed or “slave” labor was not used in the First World War, nor were prisoners of war

obliged to give labor service, though there were some abuses of these rules of interna-

tional law by the Germans, who were possibly the least scrupulous and certainly the most

hard-pressed.

Governments controlled all foreign trade. It was intolerable to let pri-

vate citizens ship off the country’s resources at their own whim. It was

equally intolerable to let them use valuable foreign exchange by importing

unneeded goods or to drive up prices of necessities by competing with one another. For-

eign trade became a state monopoly, in which private fi rms operated under strict licenses

and quotas. The greatest of the exporting countries was the United States, whose annual

exports rose from $2 billion to $6 billion between 1914 and 1918. The endless demand for

American farm and factory products naturally drove up prices, which, however, were fi xed

by law in 1917, for the most important items.

As for the European Allies, which even before the war had exported less than they

imported and were now exporting as little as possible, they could make purchases in the

United States only by enormous loans from the American government. British and

French citizens, under pressure from their own governments, sold off their American

stocks and bonds, which were bought up by Americans. The former owners received

pounds sterling or francs from their own governments, which in return took and spent

the dollars paid by the new American owners. In this way the United States ceased to be

a debtor country (it had owed some $4 billion to Europeans in 1914), and became the

The allocation of

manpower

Export controls

85. The Economic, Social, and Cultural Impact of the War

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Chapter 17 The First World War718

world’s leading creditor country. By 1919 Europeans were in debt to the United States

by about $10 billion—an economic transformation that also affected transatlantic poli-

tics and cultural exchanges.

The Allies controlled the sea, but they never had enough shipping to meet rising

demands, especially with German submarines taking a steady though fl uctu-

ating toll. Each government set up a shipping board to expand shipbuilding

at any cost and to assign available shipping space to whatever purposes—

troop movements, rubber imports, foodstuffs—the government considered

most urgent in view of overall plans. Control and allocation eventually became interna-

tional under the Interallied Shipping Council, of which the United States was a member

after entering the war. In England and France, where all manufactures depended on imports,

government control of shipping and hence of imports was itself enough to give control over

the whole economy.

Germany, denied access to the sea and also to Russia and western Europe, was obliged

to adopt unprecedented measures of self-suffi ciency. The Germans went with less food

than other belligerents. Their government controls became more thorough and more effi -

cient, producing what they called “war socialism.” In Walter Rathenau

they found a man with the necessary ideas and organizing skills. He was

a Jewish industrialist, son of the head of the German electrical trust. One

of the fi rst to foresee a long war, he launched a program for the mobiliza-

tion of raw materials. Early in the war it seemed that Germany might be soon defeated by

lack of nitrogen, necessary to make explosives. Rathenau sweepingly requisitioned every

Shipping and imports

German “war

socialism”

The need for workers during the First World War opened opportunities for women in jobs that were traditionally open only to men. These German women, who were working in an armaments factory in 1917, exemplifi ed this trend in the workforce and also the general mobi- lization of an entire population to serve the demands of modern warfare. (akg-images/Newscom)

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719

conceivable natural source, including the very manure from the farmers’ barnyards, until

German chemists succeeded in extracting nitrogen from the air. The German chemical

industry developed many other substitute products, such as synthetic rubber. German pro-

duction was organized into war companies, one for each line of industry, with private busi-

ness fi rms working under close government supervision.

The other warring governments also replaced competition between individual fi rms

and factories with coordination. Consortiums of industrialists in France allocated raw

materials and government orders within each industry. The War Industries Board did the

same in the United States. In Britain, similar methods became so effi cient that by 1918, for

example, the country produced every two weeks as many shells as in the whole fi rst year

of the war and turned out 70 times as much heavy artillery.

Infl ation, Industrial Changes, Control of Ideas

No government, even by heavy taxes, could raise all the funds it needed except by printing

paper money, selling huge bond issues, or obliging banks to grant it credit. The result,

given heavy demand and acute shortages, was rapid infl ation of prices. Prices and wages

were regulated but were never again so low as before 1914. The hardest hit by this devel-

opment were those whose income could not easily be augmented—people living on sup-

posedly safe investments, those drawing annual salaries, professional people, government

employees. These classes had been one of the most stabilizing social infl uences in Europe

before the war. Everywhere the war threatened their status, prestige, and standard of liv-

ing. The huge national debts meant higher taxes for years to come. The debt was most

serious when it was owed to a foreign country. During the war the Conti-

nental Allies borrowed from Britain, and they and the British both bor-

rowed from the United States. They thereby mortgaged their future. To pay

the debt, they were bound for years to export more than they imported—or,

roughly, to produce more than they consumed. It may be recalled that in 1914 every

advanced European country habitually imported more than it exported. That fact, basic to

the European standard of life, was now threatened with reversal.

Moreover, with Europe torn by war for four years, the rest of the

world accelerated its own industrialization. The productive capacity of the

United States increased immensely. The Japanese began to sell in China,

in India, and in South America, providing civilian goods that had previously come from

Europe. Argentina and Brazil, unable to get locomotive parts or mining machinery from

England, created their own industries to manufacture such items for themselves. In India the

Tata family, controlling $250 million of native Indian capital, developed numerous manu-

facturing enterprises, one of which became the largest iron and steel works in the British

Empire. With Germany entirely out of the world market, with Britain and France producing

desperately for their armies, and with the world’s shipping commandeered for war uses,

the position of western Europe as the world’s workshop was undermined. After the war

Europe had new competitors. The economic foundations of the European-centered global

trading system had slipped away. The age of European supremacy was in its twilight.

All the belligerent governments during the war attempted to control ideas as they did

economic production. Freedom of thought, respected everywhere in Europe for half a cen-

tury, was discarded. Propaganda and censorship became more effective than any govern-

ment, however despotic, had ever been able to devise. No one was allowed to sow doubt by

raising basic questions about the rationale for the war or the actions of government leaders.

Mortgaging the future

Industry spreads

85. The Economic, Social, and Cultural Impact of the War

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Chapter 17 The First World War720

It must be remembered that the facts of the prewar international crises, as related

above, were then largely unknown. People were trapped in a nightmare whose causes they

could not comprehend. Each side wildly charged the other with having

started the war from pure malevolence. The long attrition, the fruitless

fi ghting, the unchanging battle lines, and the appalling casualties were a

severe ordeal to morale. Civilians had to be kept at a high emotional pitch

during the demoralizing years in which they were deprived of their usual

liberties, grieving the loss of family and friends, working harder, eating dull food, and see-

ing no military victory. Placards, posters, schoolbooks, public lectures, religious services,

solemn editorials, patriotic speeches, and slanted news reports all conveyed the national

message. The new mass press and the new motion pictures proved to be ideal media for the

direction of popular thinking. Intellectuals and professors advanced complicated reasons,

usually historical, for loathing and crushing the enemy. In Allied countries the Kaiser was

portrayed as a demon, with glaring eyes and abnormally bristling mustaches, bent on the

Propaganda and

public opinion

Every nation in the First World War used propaganda posters to rally public support, recruit soldiers, and show the evil actions of the enemy. The picture on the left is an Austrian post- card with the typical image of a soldier defending the “Fatherland, Family, and Future.” The child represents the nation’s future. The poster on the right portrays the female symbol of the French Republic, Marianne, who is calling on the French to buy war bonds “for the fl ag and for victory.” This money will support the soldiers who stand behind Marianne and defend the French nation. (Left: akg-images/Newscom; right: Barbara Singer/The Bridgeman Art Library)

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721

mad project of conquest of the world. In Germany people were taught to dread the day

when Cossacks and Senegalese should rape German women and to hate England as the

inveterate enemy that inhumanly starved little children with its blockade. Each side con-

vinced itself that all right was on its side and all wrong, wickedness, and barbarity were on

the other. An infl amed opinion helped to sustain men and women in such a fearsome strug-

gle. But when it came time to make peace the rooted convictions, fi xed ideas, profound

aversions, hates, and fears became an obstacle to balanced political judgment.

Cultural Pessimism

We have seen how many European intellectuals in the decades before 1914 began to ques-

tion the theories of classical liberalism and to celebrate the social value of human struggle

and violence. Such ideas, widely disseminated by popular writers and intellectuals, con-

tributed to the public enthusiasm that accompanied each nation’s entry into the Great War.

Indeed, some of the best-known younger writers, including Charles Péguy in France and

Rupert Brooke in England, went off to die in the early battles, leaving liter-

ary testaments about the spiritual nobility of sacrifi ces for the nation. But as

the war dragged on through more than four murderous years, much of the

early literary patriotism turned into cynicism, pessimism, and despair. By

1918, famous war poets such as Siegfried Sassoon and Wilfred Owen were condemning

the horrors of a senseless war and mocking the propaganda that fl owed from every national

government. Irony and bitterness became pervasive themes in the creative works of post–

World War I European culture.

War poets

Wilfred Owen, pictured here in his army uniform, was one of the English war poets who described the horrors of the First World War. He was killed in France, one week before the armistice in November 1918. (Fotosearch/Stringer/Getty Images)

85. The Economic, Social, and Cultural Impact of the War

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Chapter 17 The First World War722

Historical Interpretations and Debates

Cultural Responses to the First World War

Historians often describe the First World War as the decisive, transformative event in modern European history. In addition to the horrifi c loss of human lives, the war undermined Europe’s pre-1914 supremacy in global political affairs, international trade, and colonial empires. At the same time, the war shattered much of the cultural confi dence and optimism that had char- acterized nineteenth-century European intellectual life. A younger generation of writers, artists, and skeptics emerged from the war with a sense of pessimism and alienation that altered European politics and social life as well as postwar philosophies and cultural move- ments. Compare the ways in which the historians Paul Fussell and Robert Wohl interpret the cultural responses to the “Great War” among those who returned from the battlefi elds and remembered their wartime experiences.

Paul Fussell, The Great War and Modern Memory (1975)

Every war is ironic because every

war is worse than expected. Every war

constitutes an irony . . . because its

means are so melodramatically

disproportionate to its presumed ends. In

the Great War eight million people were

destroyed because two persons, the Archduke

Francis Ferdinand and his Consort, had

been shot. . . .

The Great War was more ironic than

any before or since. It was a hideous

embarrassment to the prevailing Meliorist

myth which had dominated the public

consciousness for a century. It reversed the

Idea of Progress. . . .

No man in the prime of life knew [in

1914] what war was like. All imagined that it

would be an affair of great marches and great

battles, quickly decided.

Out of the world of summer, 1914,

marched a unique generation. It believed

in Progress and Art and in no way doubted

the benignity even of technology. The word

machine was not yet invariably coupled with the word gun. . . .

The innocent [British] army fully

attained the knowledge of good and

evil at the Somme on July 1, 1916

[when 60,000 were killed or wounded

on the fi rst day of battle]. That moment,

one of the most interesting in the whole

long history of human disillusion, can

stand as the type of all the ironic actions

of the war. . . .

Robert Wohl, The Generation of 1914 (1979)

What intellectuals [of this generation]

found most diffi cult to accept about the war

was its mechanical and impersonal quality.

Death and wounds were not ordinarily

doled out in hand-to-hand combat, but in the

whizzing and hissing and booming of shells

fi red by an unseen foe. Soldiers lay huddled

like animals in craters and dugouts. . . .

What of value could intellectuals have

found in the ugliness and the senseless

slaughter of European trench warfare? . . .

The theme that comes back most

frequently in the literature of the war is the

discovery of comradeship. . . . Comradeship

arose out of the sharing of a common danger

and a common disillusion that was “beyond

all hope.” It was sharpened . . . by a sense of

alienation from those [left] behind—those

who had not been there, who had not seen the

horrors, who had not experienced the fear of

dying and the relief of survival. . . .

The front experience appears to have

weakened some and strengthened others; to

have driven some toward the Right and others

toward the Left; to have given some the taste

for war and violence and to have persuaded

others to preserve the peace at any cost. . . .

No unitary pattern of response emerges.

But one thing seems clear: The

front taught an unforgettable lesson in

generationalism to those who came to know

it. . . . Hence the dichotomy of young versus

old was invested with a new and powerful

emotional charge. . . .

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723

Sources: Paul Fussell, The Great War and Modern Memory (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1975), pp. 7–8, 21, 24, 29, 35; Robert Wohl, The Generation of 1914 (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1979), p. 218–220, 222.

Paul Fussell . . . (contd. . . .) I am saying that there seems to be one

dominating form of modern understanding;

that it is essentially ironic; and that it

originates largely in the application of mind

and memory to the events of the Great War.

Robert Wohl . . . (contd. . . .) The younger men . . . were haunted

by the memory of an experience that would

overshadow everything that would happen to

them during the rest of their lives.

The war’s most widespread cultural consequence thus emerged in new forms of cul-

tural pessimism. The psychological studies of Sigmund Freud, for example, increasingly

emphasized the raw power of human aggression—what Freud began to call the death

instinct—which could never be completely tamed in even the most advanced modern soci-

eties. His famous postwar book, Civilization and Its Discontents, offered pessimistic descriptions of the endless struggle between humanity’s deep irrational drives and civi-

lized moral standards, a struggle in which the unconscious instincts of both individuals and

social groups seemed constantly to overwhelm the precarious defenses of

civilization. A different kind of pessimism appeared in the infl uential work

of Oswald Spengler, the German philosopher-historian whose book The Decline of the West (1918) became a best-selling account of how Western civilization had fallen into crisis and decay. Drawing on cyclical theories of life and death,

Spengler traced the history of the West from its energetic youth (the Renaissance) to a

creative middle passage (the eighteenth century) to a declining old age (the twentieth cen-

tury). Spengler’s historical theories, so alien to the nineteenth-century liberal confi dence in

Western progress and expansion, attracted attention far beyond Germany because they

offered explanations for events that seemed otherwise to be simply chaotic and absurd.

This sense of a crisis in Western culture spread also through new literary and artistic

movements, most notably perhaps, in the nonsensical productions of Dada-

ism. The Dada movement, developing in Switzerland after 1915 and promoted

by the poet Tristan Tzara, rejected the structures of traditional literature and

generated nihilistic criticisms of European rationality, aesthetic ideals, and social conven-

tions. After a brief moment of postwar popularity in Paris, Dadaism vanished from the

scene, but its fascination with irrational impulses, “spontaneous” writing, and strange dreams

passed into the more enduring ideas of Surrealism. Meanwhile, even the most sober-minded

European authors believed that the war had exposed a sickness in the heart of European

civilization. The great German writer Thomas Mann, for example, set his postwar novel The Magic Mountain within a Swiss sanatorium, where everyone is ill and where tubercular char- acters from all parts of Europe debate the fl awed traditions of Western civilization. And the

Irish poet W. B. Yeats, also seeing that something in Europe had gone terribly wrong, sum-

marized the anxiety of a whole generation in his famous poem “The Second Coming” (1919):

Mere anarchy is loosed upon the World, The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere The ceremony of innocence is drowned; The best lack all conviction, while the worst Are full of passionate intensity.

Freud and Spengler

Tzara, Mann, Yeats

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Chapter 17 The First World War724

86. THE PEACE OF PARIS, 1919

The late ally, Russia, was in the hands of the Bolsheviks by 1919, completely ostracized

and taking no part in international relations. The late German and Austro-Hungarian

empires were already defunct, and more or less revolutionary regimes struggled to replace

them. New republics already existed along the Baltic Coast, in Poland, and in the Danube

basin but without effective governments or acknowledged frontiers. Central Europe was in

a state approaching chaos, with Russian-style revolution threatening to break out in most

countries. Western Europe was wrenched out of all resemblance to its former self. The

Allied blockade of Germany continued. In these circumstances the victors assembled in

Paris, in the bleak winter of 1919, to reconstruct the world. During 1919 they signed fi ve

treaties, all named after Paris suburbs—St.-Germain with Austria, Trianon with Hungary,

Neuilly with Bulgaria, Sèvres with Turkey (1920), and especially, with Germany the

Treaty of Versailles.

Europeans looked with awe and expectation to one man—the presi-

dent of the United States. Woodrow Wilson occupied a lone eminence and

enjoyed a universal prestige. Victors, vanquished, and neutrals admitted

that American intervention had decided the confl ict. Everywhere people

who had been long tried, confused, and bereaved were now stirred by Wilson’s thrilling

language in favor of a higher cause, of a great concert of right in which peace would be

forever secure and the world itself would be at last free. Wilson reached Europe in Janu-

ary 1919, visiting several Allied capitals. He was wildly acclaimed, and almost mobbed,

greeted as the man who would lead civilization out of its wasteland.

The Fourteen Points and the Treaty of Versailles

Wilson’s views were well known. He had stated them in January 1918 in his Fourteen

Points—the principles upon which, after victory, peace was to be established. The Fourteen

Points demanded an end to secret treaties and secret diplomacy (or in Wilsonian language,

“open covenants openly arrived at”); freedom of the seas “alike in peace and in war”;

removal of barriers and inequalities in international trade; reduction of armaments by all

powers; colonial readjustments; evacuation of occupied territories; self-determination

of nationalities and a redrawing of European boundaries along national lines; and, last but

not least, an international political organization to prevent war. On the whole, Wilson

stood for the fruition of the democratic, liberal, progressive, and nationalistic movements

of the century past, for the ideals of the Enlightenment, the French Revolution, and the

revolutions of 1848. As Wilson saw it, and as many believed, the World War should end in

a new type of treaty. There was thought to be something sinister about peace conferences

of the past, for example, the Congress of Vienna of 1815. The old diplomacy was blamed

for leading to war. Lenin in his own way and for his own purposes was saying this in

Russia too. It was felt that treaties had too long been wrongly based on a politics of power

or on unprincipled deals and bargains made without regard to the people concerned.

Democracy having defeated the Central Powers, people hoped that a new

settlement, made in a democratic age, might be reached by general agree-

ment in an atmosphere of mutual confi dence. There was a real sense that a

new political era was dawning.

Wilson had had some diffi culty, however, in persuading the Allied governments to

accept his Fourteen Points. The French demanded a guarantee of German payment for the

Woodrow Wilson

A new era

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725

war damages in northern France. The British vetoed the freedom of the seas “in peace and

war”; it was naval rivalry that had estranged them from Germany, and they had fought the

war to preserve British command of the sea. But with these two reservations the Allies

expressed their willingness to follow Wilson’s lead. The Germans who asked for the armi-

stice believed that peace would be made along the lines of the Fourteen Points with only

the two modifi cations that were demanded by France and Britain. In addition, the socialists

and democrats now trying to rule Germany thought that having overthrown the Kaiser and

the war lords, they would be treated by the victors with moderation and that a new demo-

cratic Germany would reemerge to take its rightful place in the world.

Twenty-seven nations assembled at Paris in January 1919, but the full or plenary ses-

sions were unimportant. Matters were decided by conferences among the Big Four—Wilson

himself, Lloyd George for England, Clemenceau for France, Orlando for Italy. The con-

junction of personalities was not a happy one. Wilson was stern and stubbornly righteous;

CHRONOLOGY OF NOTABLE EVENTS, 1879–1920

1879 Germany signs military alliance with Austria-Hungary

1894 France and Russia create the Franco-Russian alliance

1904 France and Britain establish close relations in the Entente Cordiale

1905 Germany challenges French-English relations by calling for Moroccan

independence from France

1912–1913 Two Balkan wars contribute to Serbian and Russian hostility toward

Austria

June 1914 Austrian Archduke Francis Ferdinand is assassinated by Bosnian terrorist

in Sarajevo

August 1914 Germany declares war on Russia and France; England declares war on

Germany

September 1914 Battle of the Marne stops German advance in France and leads to trench

warfare on the Western front

1916 Battles of Verdun and the Somme confi rm military stalemate in France

March 1917 Revolution in Russia overthrows Tsar Nicholas II; provisional government

takes power and continues the war

April 1917 United States declares war on Germany

November 1917 Britain issues “Balfour Declaration,” promising support for a Jewish

homeland in Palestine; Bolshevik Revolution in Russia

March 1918 Treaty of Brest-Litovsk ends war between Russia and Germany

November 1918 Collapse of German and Austrian Empires

November 1918 Armistice ends the fi ghting on the Western Front

1919 Western Allies complete the Versailles treaty and recognize new nations

in eastern Europe; Germany is charged with war guilt and reparations

1920 Treaty of Sèvres breaks up the Ottoman Empire and leads to French and

British “mandates” in Middle East

86. The Peace of Paris, 1919

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Chapter 17 The First World War726

Lloyd George, a fi ery and unpredictable Welshman; Clemenceau, an aged patriot, the

“tiger of France,” who had been politically active since the Franco-Prussian War of 1870;

Orlando, a passing phenomenon of Italian politics. None of them was especially equipped

for the task in hand. Clemenceau was a pronounced nationalist, Lloyd George had always

been concerned with domestic reforms, Orlando was by training a professor like Wilson,

and Wilson, a former college president, was imbued with a sense of mission. Wilson

arrived in Europe with a plan for future international relations, but he lacked concrete

knowledge of peoples other than his own. However, all of the Big Four democratically

represented the governments and peoples of their respective countries, and thus they could

speak with an authority denied to professional diplomats of the old school.

Wilson fi rst fought a hard battle for a League of Nations, a perma-

nent international body in which all nations, without sacrifi cing their sover-

eignty, would meet together to discuss and settle disputes, each promising

not to resort to war. Few European statesmen had any confi dence in such a League. But

they yielded to Wilson, and the covenant of the League of Nations was written into the

treaty with Germany. In return, Wilson had to make concessions to Lloyd George, Clem-

enceau, Orlando, and the Japanese. He was thus obliged to compromise the idealism of

the Fourteen Points. Probably compromise and bargaining would have been necessary

anyway, for such general principles as national self-determination and colonial readjust-

ment invariably led to differences of opinion in concrete cases. Wilson allowed himself

to believe that if a League of Nations were established and operating, faults in the treaty

could later be corrected at leisure by international discussion.

A special kind of disagreement arose over the covenant of the League. Wilson wished

to include a clause endorsing religious freedom. The Japanese insisted that it be broadened

to condemn racial discrimination as well. The Americans and British were opposed to the

latter for fear that an international authority might interfere with their race-based immigra-

tion practices. In the end both proposals were abandoned.

The great demand of the French at the peace conference was for security against Ger-

many. The war in the West had been fought almost entirely on French soil, and the French

wanted above all else to prevent another such war in the future. To trim Germany down

more nearly to French size, they proposed that the part of Germany west of the Rhine be

set up as an independent state under Allied auspices. Wilson and Lloyd George objected,

sagely observing that the resulting German resentment would only lead to another war.

The French yielded, but only on condition that they obtain their security in another

way, namely, by a promise from both Britain and the United States to join them immedi-

ately if they were again attacked by the Germans. An Anglo-French-American guarantee

treaty, with these provisions, was in fact signed at Paris. France obtained

control over the Saar coal mines for 15 years; during that time, a League

commission would administer the Saar territory, and in 1935 a plebiscite

would be held. Lorraine and Alsace were returned to France. German forti-

fi cations and troops were banned from a wide belt in the Rhineland. Allied troops would

occupy the Rhineland for 15 years to ensure German compliance with the treaty.

In eastern Europe the Allies wished to set up strong buffer states against Bolshevism

in Russia. Sympathies with Poland ran high. Those parts of the former German Empire

that were inhabited by Poles, or by mixed populations of Poles and Germans—Posen and

West Prussia—were assigned to the new Polish state. This gave Poland a corridor to the

sea, but this Polish corridor also cut off the bulk of Germany from East Prussia. Danzig, an

old German town, became a free city, belonging to no country. Upper Silesia, a rich

A League of Nations

Alsace and Lorraine

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727

mining country, went to Poland after a disputed plebiscite. In Austria and among the Sude-

ten Germans of Bohemia, now that there was no longer a Habsburg Empire (whose promi-

nence and power had blocked an all-German union in 1848 and also a few years later in the

time of Bismarck), a feeling developed for annexation to the new German republic. But the

feeling was unorganized, and in any case the Allies naturally refused to make Germany

bigger than it had been in 1914. Austria was thus reduced to a small republic; and Vienna,

a former imperial capital cut off from its empire—a head severed from its body and

scarcely more capable of sustaining life. The Sudeten Germans became disgruntled citi-

zens of the new state of Czechoslovakia.

Germany lost all its colonies. Wilson and the South African General

Smuts, to preserve the principle of internationalism against any imputation

of raw conquest, saw to it that the colonies were actually awarded to the

League of Nations. The League, under “mandates,” then assigned them to

various powers for administration. In this way France and Great Britain divided the best of

the African colonies; the Belgian Congo was slightly enlarged; and the Union of South

Africa took over German Southwest Africa. In the colonial world, Italy got nothing. Japan

received the mandate for the German Pacifi c islands north of the equator; Australia, for

German New Guinea and the Solomon Islands; New Zealand, for German Samoa. The

Japanese claimed rights over the German concessions in China. The Chinese at the Paris

conference tried to get all special concessions and extraterritorial rights in China abol-

ished. No one listened to such proposals. By a compromise, Japan received about half the

former German rights. The Japanese were dissatisfi ed, and the Chinese walked out of the

conference. Meanwhile, the young Vietnamese nationalist Ho Chi Minh, who was then

living in Paris, wanted Wilson to recognize that France was violating the principles of

national self-determination in Indochina, but such criticisms of European colonialism were

ignored at Versailles. The western European powers continued to control their large Asian

empires, and the new mandate system of the League of Nations expanded their imperial

infl uence in Africa and the Middle East.

The Allies took over the German fl eet, but the German crews, rather than surrender

it, solemnly scuttled it at Scapa Flow. The German army was limited to 100,000. Because

the Allies forbade conscription, or the annual training of successive groups of young civil-

ians, the army became exclusively professional, the offi cer class retained political infl u-

ence within the much-reduced but intensely self-conscious German military forces, and

the means the Allies used to demilitarize Germany served if anything the contrary purpose.

The treaty forbade Germany to have any heavy artillery, aviation, or submarines. Wilson

saw his plan for universal disarmament applied to Germany alone.

The French, even before the armistice, had stipulated that Germany must pay for war

damages. The other Allies made the same demand. Wilson, at the conference, was stupe-

fi ed at the size of the bills presented. The Belgians suggested, for their own

share, a sum larger than the entire wealth of all Belgium according to offi -

cially published Belgian statistics. The French and British proposed to

charge Germany with the entire expenses, including war pensions, they had

incurred during the war. Wilson observed that “total” reparation, while not strictly unjust,

was absolutely impossible, and even Clemenceau noted that “to ask for over a trillion

francs would lead to nothing practical.” The insistence on enormous reparations was in

fact largely emotional. No one knew or considered how Germany would pay, though all

dimly realized that such sums could only be made up by German exports, which would

then compete with the Allies’ own economic interests. The Germans, to avoid worse, even

Germany loses its

colonies

War damages

86. The Peace of Paris, 1919

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Chapter 17 The First World War728

offered to repair physical damages in Belgium and France, but were brusquely refused on

the ground that the Belgians and French would thereby lose jobs and business. No mone-

tary total was set for reparations in the treaty; it was made clear that the sum would be very

large, but it was left for a future commission to determine. The Allies, maddened by the

war and themselves loaded with huge debts to the United States, had no desire to listen to

economic reason and regarded the reparations as simply another means of righting a wrong

and of putting off the dangers of a German revival. As a fi rst payment on the reparations

account the treaty required Germany to surrender most of its merchant marine, make coal

deliveries, and give up all property owned by German private citizens abroad. This last

proviso ended Germany’s prewar career as an exporter of capital.

It was with the specifi c purpose of justifying the reparations that the famous “war guilt”

clause was written into the treaty. By this clause Germany explicitly “accepted

the responsibility” for all loss and damage resulting from the war “imposed

upon them (the Allies) by the aggression of Germany and her allies.” The

Germans themselves felt no such responsibility as they were now obliged

formally to accept. They considered their honor as a people to be impugned.

The war guilt clause gave a ready opening to agitators in Germany and made even moderate

Germans regard the treaty as something to be overturned as a matter of self-respect.

The Treaty of Versailles was completed in three months. The absence

of the Russians, the decision not to give the Germans a hearing, and the will-

ingness of Wilson to make concessions in return for obtaining the League

of Nations, made it possible to dispose of intricate matters with consider-

able facility. The Germans, when presented with the completed document

in May 1919, refused to sign. The Allies threatened a renewal of hostilities. A government

crisis ensued in Berlin. No German wished to damn himself, his party, or his principles, in

German eyes, by putting his name to a document that all Germans regarded as outrageous.

A combination drawn from the Social Democratic and Catholic parties fi nally consented to

shoulder the hateful burden. Two abashed and virtually unknown representatives appeared

at the Hall of Mirrors at Versailles and signed the treaty for Germany in the presence of a

large concourse of Allied dignitaries. The other treaties drafted by the Paris conference, in conjunction with the Versailles

treaty, laid out a new map for eastern Europe and registered the recession of the Russian,

Austrian, and Ottoman Turkish empires. Seven new independent states now existed:

Finland, Estonia, Latvia, Lithuania, Poland, Czechoslovakia, and Yugoslavia. Romania

was enlarged by adding areas formerly Hungarian and Russian; Greece was enlarged at the

expense of Turkey. Austria and Hungary were now small states, and there was no connec-

tion between them. The belt of states from Finland to Romania was regarded as a cordon sanitaire, a quarantine zone, to prevent the infection of Europe by communism. The cre- ation of Yugoslavia (or the Kingdom of the Serbs, Croats, and Slovenes, as it was called

until 1929), although dominated by the Serbs and under the Serbian monarchy, seemed to

fulfi ll the aims of the South Slav movement that had set off the fatal crisis of 1914. The

fact, however, that Italy received Trieste and some of the Dalmatian Islands (in keeping

with the secret treaty of 1915) left the more ambitious South Slavs discontented.

The treaty of Sèvres transformed the political order in the Middle East. The Ottoman

Empire completely disappeared. Turkey emerged as a smaller republic confi ned to Asia

Minor and the area around Constantinople, but most other people in the former empire fell

under the control of France or Britain. Syria and Lebanon went to France as mandates of

the League of Nations. Palestine and Iraq went to Great Britain on the same basis, though

The “war guilt”

clause

The Treaty of

Versailles

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729

the British had to wage a military campaign to suppress strong nationalist resistance in Iraq

before they could establish a cooperative government under the ruler they had chosen, King

Faisal. The Kingdom of Hejaz in Arabia was recognized as an independent state; by 1924,

however, it fell under the control of what was to become the kingdom of Saudi Arabia. In

general, the breakup of the Ottoman Empire left a vast area of the Middle East unsettled.

Indeed, the complex legacy of the Ottoman Empire as well as the British and French man-

dates continued to shape the enduring confl icts in this region down to the twenty-fi rst

century; and Europeans would remain deeply involved in Middle Eastern wars and revolu-

tions long after their neocolonial mandates had given way to independent nation-states.

Signifi cance of the Paris Peace Settlement

The most general principle of the Paris settlement was to recognize the

right of national self-determination, at least in Europe. Each European peo-

ple or nation, as defi ned by language, was in principle set up with its own

sovereign and independent national state. Czechoslovakia, a special case,

National

self-determination

These four men represented the leading Allied powers at the Versailles peace conference in 1918: (from left to right) Vittorio Emanuele Orlando of Italy, David Lloyd George of Great Britain, Georges Clemenceau of France, and Woodrow Wilson of the United States. Neither the Germans nor the Russians were represented at Versailles. The decisions of the peace con- ference, including a war guilt clause that blamed Germany for the recent war, produced deep resentments among the excluded peoples. (Bettmann/Corbis)

86. The Peace of Paris, 1919

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Chapter 17 The First World War730

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731

EUROPE, 1923 The map shows European boundaries between the two World Wars after the Peace of Versailles and certain other agreements. Germany returned Alsace-Lorraine to France and lost the region around Danzig (the “Polish corridor”) to Poland. In place of the Austro-Hungarian Empire we fi nd the “succes- sion states”—Austria, Hungary, Czechoslovakia, Yugoslavia, and Romania. Poland regained its independence, and Finland and the three Baltic states—Estonia, Latvia, and Lithuania—emerged from the tsarist empire. Most of Ireland became a “free state” in the British Commonwealth of Nations, only Ulster remain- ing in the United Kingdom. These boundaries lasted until 1938, when Germany annexed Austria and the Sudeten part of Czechoslovakia.

Areas Lost by Germany

Areas Lost by Russia

Areas Lost by Ottoman Empire

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86. The Peace of Paris, 1919

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Chapter 17 The First World War732

had two national components, as its originally hyphenated name Czecho-Slovakia made

clear. Nationalism triumphed as a culmination of the nineteenth-century belief that it went

along naturally with liberalism and democracy. It must be added that the peacemakers at

Paris had little choice in this matter, for the new states had already declared their indepen-

dence. Because in eastern Europe the nationalities were in many places intermixed, and

because the peacemakers did not contemplate the actual movement and exchange of popu-

lations to sort them out, each new state found alien minorities living within its borders or

could claim that people of its own kind still lived in neighboring states under foreign rule.

Hence minority problems and irredentism troubled eastern Europe, as they had before

1914. Eventually it was the complaint of Germans in the Sudetenland of Czechoslovakia

that they were an oppressed minority, together with the irredentist demand of Germany to

join these outlying Germans to the fatherland, that produced the Munich crisis preceding

the Second World War. The Germans thus became militant advocates for their own “rights

of national self-determination,” which the peacemakers themselves, in 1919, had estab-

lished as an essential principle of postwar European political boundaries.

The Treaty of Versailles was designed to put an end to the German

menace. It was not a successful treaty. The wisdom of the treaty has been

debated without end, but a few comments may safely be made. For practi-

cal purposes, with respect to Germany, the treaty was either too severe or

too lenient. It was too severe to conciliate, but not severe enough to destroy

German power. Possibly the victors should have dealt more moderately with the new Ger-

man republic, which professed their own ideals, as the monarchical victors over Napoleon,

in 1814, had dealt moderately with the France of the restored Bourbons, regarding it as a

regime akin to their own. As it was, the Allies imposed upon the German Republic about

the same terms that they might have imposed upon the German Empire. They innocently

played the game of Ludendorff and the German reactionaries; it was the Social Democrats

and liberals who bore the “shame” of Versailles. The Germans from the beginning showed

no real intention to live up to the treaty. On the other hand, the treaty was not suffi ciently

disabling to destroy Germany’s economic and political strength, which had in any case

become a central fact of modern European history. Barring a complete (and now impos-

sible) dismemberment of the unifi ed German state, there was no way for the Allies perma-

nently to reduce Germany’s power and infl uence in European or world affairs. Even the

degree of severity that the Versailles treaty incorporated soon proved to be more than the

Allies were willing to enforce.

The treaty makers at Paris in 1919, working hastily and still in the heat of war, under

pressure from press and propaganda in their own countries, drafted a set of terms that they

themselves did not in the long run wish to impose. As the years passed, many people in Allied

countries declared various provisions of the Versailles treaty to be unfair or unworkable. The

loss of faith by the Allies in their own treaty only made easier the task of those German agita-

tors who demanded its repudiation. The door was soon opened for Adolf Hitler. Even at the beginning the Allies showed doubts. Lloyd George, in the

last weeks before the signing, tardily called for certain amendments, though

in vain; for in 1919 British opinion shifted somewhat from fear of Germany

to the fear of Bolshevism, and already the idea of using Germany as a bul-

wark against communism was expressed. The Italians disliked the whole settlement from

the beginning; they observed that the spoils of Africa and the Middle East went only to

France and Great Britain. The Chinese were also deeply dissatisfi ed. The Russians, when

they reentered the international arena some years later, found a situation that they did not

The failure of

Versailles

Victors’ uneasiness

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733

like and had played no part in making. They objected to being faced with a cordon sani- taire from Finland to Romania and soon remembered that most of this territory had once belonged to the Russian Empire.

The United States never ratifi ed the Treaty of Versailles at all. A wave of isolationism

and disgust with Europe spread over the country; and this feeling, together with some

rational criticism of the terms and a good deal of party politics, caused the Senate to repu-

diate Wilson’s work. The Senate likewise refused to make any advance promises of mili-

tary intervention in a future war between Germany and France and hence also declined to

ratify the Anglo-French-American guarantee treaty on which Wilson had persuaded Clem-

enceau to rely. The French considered themselves duped, deprived both of the Rhineland

and of the Anglo-American guarantee. They raised more anguished cries over their insecu-

rity. This led them to try to hold Germany down while it was still weak, in turn raising

many further complications.

The League of Nations was established at Geneva. Its mere existence

marked a great step beyond the international anarchy before 1914. Wilson’s

vision did not die. But the United States never joined; Germany was not

admitted until 1926, nor was Russia until 1934. The League could handle

and dispatch only such business as the Great Powers were willing to allow. It was asso-

ciated with a West European ascendancy that no longer corresponded to the facts of the

world situation. Its covenant was part of the Versailles treaty, and many people in many

countries, on both sides in the late war, saw in it not so much a system for international

adjudication as a means for maintaining a new status quo in favor of Britain and France.

The First World War dealt a last blow to the ancient institutions of monarchy and

aristocratic feudalism. Thrones toppled in Turkey, in Russia, in Austria-Hungary, in the

German Empire and in the individual German states; and with the kings went the courtly

retainers and all the social preeminence and special advantage of the old landed aristocra-

cies. The war was indeed a victory for democracy, though a bitter one. It carried further

a transformative political and social process as old as the French and American revolu-

tions. But for the basic problems of modern civilization, industrialism and nationalism,

economic security and international stability, it gave no answer. And it left the major Euro-

pean nations much weaker than before to face the rising economic power of the United

States, the revolutionary government of the Soviet Union, and the emerging anticolonial

movements of Africa and Asia.

The League of

Nations

For suggested further readings and useful Web sites, interactive exercises, glossary, chronologies,

and more, go to the Online Learning Center at www.mhhe.com/palmerhistory11e.

86. The Peace of Paris, 1919

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735

C h a p t e r 18 THE RUSSIAN

REVOLUTION AND

THE EMERGENCE OF

THE SOVIET UNION

The Russian Revolution   became almost as important as the First World War in its infl uence on

later twentieth-century events and global confl icts.

Although the war of 1914–1918 was one of the

decisive, short-term causes of the revolution, the

far-reaching upheaval came also from numerous

other social and political problems in Russian

society—and the revolutionary ideas of the

Bolshevik Party attracted followers far beyond

Russia itself. The Russian Revolution of 1917 can

thus be compared in its historical magnitude with

the French Revolution of 1789. Both originated in

deep-lying and distant causes, and both made their

repercussions felt in many countries for many

years. The present chapter will examine the revolutionary process in Russia over half a

century. We begin with a brief overview of the old regime before 1900, pass through the

two revolutions of 1905 and 1917, and survey the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics

down to 1939, at which time a new order had been consolidated under Joseph Stalin, a

form of “planned economy” had been realized, and the last of the original revolutionaries,

or Old Bolsheviks, either had been silenced or put to death.

The comparison of the Russian Revolution to the French is enlight-

ening in many ways. Both claimed to be movements of liberation—the

one against “feudalism” and “despotism”; the other against “capitalism”

and “imperialism.” Neither was a strictly national movement dealing with

merely domestic troubles; both claimed a universal historical signifi cance

and addressed their message to all the world. Both overthrew traditional monarchies,

passed through phases of increasing radicalism, and attracted followers in all countries.

French and Russian

revolutions

87. Backgrounds

88. The Revolution of 1905

89. The Revolution of 1917

90. The Union of Soviet

Socialist Republics

91. Stalin: The Five-Year Plans

and the Purges

92. The International Impact of

Communism, 1919–1939

Chapter emblem: Families of soldiers marching in St. Petersburg in 1917 to demand more rations for Russian

troops. (Sovfoto)

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Chapter 18 The Russian Revolution and the Emergence of the Soviet Union736

Both aroused a strong reaction on the part of those whose view of life was endangered.

And both showed the same pattern of revolutionary politics: a relative unity of opinion so

long as the problem was to overthrow the old regime, followed by disunity and confl ict

over the founding of the new, so that one set of revolutionaries eliminated others, until a

small, organized, and determined minority (Jacobin democrats in 1793; Bolshevik com-

munists in 1918) suppressed all opposition in order to defend or advance the revolutionary

cause; and in short order (within a matter of months in France; years in Russia), many of

the most intensely revolutionary leaders were themselves suppressed or liquidated.

The differences are equally deserving of notice. Relatively speaking, or compared by

many criteria with other European societies, Russia in 1900 was among the least advanced

countries and France in 1780 in many ways was in the lead. The main strength of the

French Revolution lay in the middle classes, who soon managed to prevail over more

extreme pressures. In the Russian Revolution middle-class people were also active, espe-

cially at fi rst, but they proved unable to cope with mass discontents and succumbed to a

more radical party that appealed to workers and peasants. In France the Revolution just

“happened,” so to speak, in that ordinary people from many walks of life unexpectedly

found themselves in a revolutionary situation, and even the Jacobin dictatorship was

improvised by individuals who had spent their lives thinking of other things. In Russia

professional revolutionaries worked for the revolution long in advance, and the dictator-

ship of the Bolsheviks realized the plans and preparations of 20 years.

In France the revolution was followed by a reaction in which émigrés returned, dis-

possessed classes reappeared in politics, and even the Bourbons were restored. The French

Revolution was followed by a century of uneasy compromise. The Russian Revolution

effectively wiped out its opposition; few émigrés returned; no Romanovs regained their

throne. The Russian Revolution was in this sense more immediately successful. But in

the long run other signifi cant differences reemerged. By the 1990s the ideas proclaimed

in Russia in 1917 were in ruins, while those proclaimed in France in 1789 were widely

accepted—representative constitutional government, equal civil rights under national sov-

ereignty, and legal safeguards for persons and property.

The repercussions of the Russian Revolution were felt widely around

the world because of Russia’s special position in global politics and eco-

nomic affairs. Since the days of Peter the Great and before, it had always

faced toward both Europe and Asia. It was European, yet it was also out-

side Europe and even opposed to it. If about 1900 it was the least developed of the major

European countries, it was at the same time one of the most developed, industrialized, or

modernized parts of the world outside the “inner zone” of European nations. Its revolution

could win sympathy on the left in Europe because it reinforced the old European social-

ist objections to capitalism. It aroused the interests of peoples in other continents because

it also denounced economic imperialism and the possession of colonies by Europeans,

affi rming that imperialism was merely the “highest stage” of capitalism and that both must

be overthrown together. The Soviet Union, once established, came to occupy an intermedi-

ate position between Europe and the colonial world (or what later came to be called the

Third World). In Europe and America it would long be feared or admired as the last word

in social revolution. In the colonial, or formerly colonial, world it suggested new begin-

nings, a new way to become modern without being capitalistic or Western, a step in a

worldwide rebellion against European supremacy. The Russian Revolution thus not only

produced communism and hence fascism in Europe but also added strength to the emerg-

ing anticolonial movements in Asia and elsewhere.

Repercussions of the

revolution in Russia

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73787. Backgrounds

Although professional revolutionaries worked for revolution in Russia, they did not

“cause” it. Lenin and the Bolsheviks did not bring about the Russian Revolution. They

captured it after it had begun. They boarded the ship in midstream. The Russian Revolu-

tion, like all great revolutions, originated in a totality of previous history, in diverse local

causes, and in the prolonged dissatisfaction of many kinds of people.

87. BACKGROUNDS

Russia after 1881: Reaction and Progress

We have seen in earlier chapters how the tsarist autocracy arose, how it ruled as a machine

superimposed upon its subjects, how the upper class became westernized while the masses

sank further into serfdom, and how an intelligentsia developed, divorced both from the

work of government and the activities of the people. It has been explained in Chapter 13

how Alexander II freed the serfs in 1861 and created provincial and district councils or

zemstvos, elected mainly by landowners, which attended to such matters as roads, schools,

and hospitals.

In 1881 Alexander II was assassinated by members of the revolutionary group called

the People’s Will. His son, Alexander III (1881–1894), tried to stamp out revolutionism

and to silence even peaceable criticism of the government. Revolutionaries and terrorists

were driven into exile. The People’s Will as an organized group became

extinct. Jews were subjected to pogroms, by far the worst of any (until then)

in modern times. For the fi rst time the empire adopted a program of sys-

tematic Russifi cation. Poles, Ukrainians, Lithuanians, the peoples of the

Caucasus, the scattered German communities, the Muslim groups in central

Asia—all faced the prospect of forcible assimilation to Russian culture. The philosopher

and chief offi cial of this movement was Pobiedonostsev, procurator of the Holy Synod, or

layman head, under the tsar, of the Russian Orthodox Church. Pobiedonostsev saw Europe

as something alien and doomed; and he dreamed of turning Holy Russia into a kind of

churchly community, in which a disciplined clergy should protect the faithful from insidi-

ous European infl uences.

This is not, however, what happened. In the closing decades of the nineteenth century

Russia became more than ever before a part of European civilization. Almost overnight it

presented Europe with great works of literature and music that Europeans could appreci-

ate. The nineteenth-century Russian novel became known throughout the Western world.

All could read the novels of Tolstoy (1828–1910) without a feeling of strangeness; and if

characters in the novels of Turgenev (1818–1883) and of Dostoevski (1821–1881) behaved

more strangely, the authors themselves were obviously within the great European cultural

family. The melodies of Tchaikovsky (1840–1893) and of Rimsky-Korsakov (1844–1908)

became familiar throughout Europe and America; if they sometimes seemed hauntingly

wild, distant, or sad, they still betrayed no more than the usual amount of national idiosyn-

crasy. Russians also contributed to the sciences, notably chemistry. They were known to

be especially talented in the more abstruse intellectual exercises, such as higher mathemat-

ics, physics, or chess.

Russia also, from the 1880s, began to pass through the Industrial Revolution and

take its place as an integral part of the world economic system. European capital entered

the country, fi nancing railways, mines, and factories (as well as government and the

army) until by 1914 Europeans had about the same amount invested in Russia as in the

Russifi cation in the

old regime

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Chapter 18 The Russian Revolution and the Emergence of the Soviet Union738

United States, some $4 billion in each case. In 1897, under the reforming

ministry of Count Witte, Russia adopted the gold standard, making its cur-

rency readily convertible with all others. In the quarter-century between

1888 and 1913 the Russian railway mileage more than doubled, the miles

of telegraph wires multiplied fi vefold, the number of post offi ces trebled, and the number

of letters carried by the mails multiplied seven times.

Although still industrially undeveloped by European standards, Russia was industri-

alizing rapidly. Exports rose in value from 400 million rubles in 1880 to 1.6 billion in

1913. Imports, though smaller, grew more rapidly, quintupling in the same period. They

consisted of such items as tea and coffee and of the machines and industrial goods made

in western Europe.

Industrialization, in Russia as in all countries, brought an increase both of the business

and of the wage-earning classes, or, in socialist terminology, of the bourgeoisie and of the

proletariat. Though growing, they were still not numerous by comparison to similar social

classes in the more industrialized nations. Factory workers, laboring for 11 or more hours

a day for low wages under hard conditions, were in somewhat the same position as in

England or France before 1850. Unions were illegal and strikes were prohibited. Neverthe-

less, great strikes in the 1890s called attention to the misery of the new industrial workers.

There was one distinctive feature to the Russian proletariat. Russian industry was heavily

concentrated; half of Russia’s industrial workers were employed in factories employing

over 500 persons. It was easier for workers under such circumstances to be organized eco-

nomically and at the proper time to be mobilized politically. As for the Russian business

and capitalist class, it was relatively the weaker because of several features in the situation.

Ownership of much of Russia’s new industrial plant was in foreign hands. Much was

owned by the tsarist government itself; Russia already had the largest state-operated eco-

nomic system in the world. Moreover, in Russia (unlike the United States at the time) the

government itself was a heavy borrower from Europe; hence it was less dependent fi nan-

cially on its own people and more able to maintain an absolutist regime.

Nevertheless, the rising business and professional classes, reinforced by enterprising

landowners, were strong enough to form a liberal segment of public opinion, which emerged

in 1905 as the Constitutional Democratic Party (or “Cadets”). Many of those

who were active in the provincial zemstvos also became Constitutional

Democrats. They were liberals, progressives, or constitutionalists in the

European sense, thinking less about the troubles of factory workers and peas-

ants than about the need for a nationally elected parliament to control the policies of state.

Russia remained predominantly agricultural. Its huge exports were mainly farm and

forest products. The peasants formed four-fi fths of the population. Free from their former

lords since 1861, they lived in village communes called mirs. In most communes much of the land was divided and redivided among peasant households by agreement of the

village community, nor could anyone leave without communal permission. The peasants

still carried a considerable burden. Until 1906 they paid redemption money arising from

the Emancipation of 1861, and even after that, other forms of onerous payments. They

also paid high taxes, for the government defrayed the interest on its foreign loans from

taxes raised at home. The constantly rising export of cereals (also used to pay off Russia’s

foreign debts) tended to keep food from the farmer’s table; many peasants raised the best

wheat for sale and ate black bread themselves. The farm population, in short (as in other

countries in similar stages of their development), bore a considerable share of the costs of

industrialization.

The “Cadets”

Industrialization

before 1914

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739

U n der such pressures, and because of their crude methods of cultiva-

tion, the peasants were forever demanding more land. “Land hunger” was

felt both by individual families and by the mirs. The Emancipation had

turned over roughly half the land to peasant ownership, individual and collective; and

in the following half-century the peasants added to their share by buying from nonpeas-

ant owners. The mirs were by no means obsolescent. They were in fact fl ourishing; they acquired far more land by purchase than did individual buyers, and perhaps half or more of

the peasants valued communal security above the uncertain pleasures of private property.

The exceptions were the minority of more enterprising and wealthier peasants, later called

the kulaks. These “big farmers” stood out conspicuously from the impoverished mass of

peasants, by whom they were often disliked.

The Emergence of Revolutionary Parties

The peasants were the ancient source of revolutionary disturbance in Russia. After the

Emancipation in 1861 they continued to believe that they had some kind of rights in all the land of former estates on which they had formerly been serfs—not merely in the portion

that had been allotted to peasant possession. They demanded (and obtained) credit from

the government to buy from the big landowners or former masters. Their land hunger

could not be appeased. They remained jealous of the landed aristocrat’s very existence. In

Russia, as elsewhere in Europe, the rural population was divided into two sharply distinct

classes—on the one hand, the peasants of all types who worked the soil, and on the other,

the gentry who resided upon it. The two never intermarried. They differed not merely eco-

nomically but in speech, dress, and manners, and even in the looks of their faces and

hands. But in the last three decades of the nineteenth century the Russian peasants were

notably quiet. Insurrectionism seemingly subsided.

The other traditional source of revolutionary disturbance lay among

the intelligentsia. Revolutionary intelligentsia (as distinguished from those

who were simply liberal or progressive) held a violent contempt for the

Russian Empire and yearned for a catastrophic overthrow of the tsardom. Since the days of

the Decembrists in 1825 they had formed secret organizations, comprising a few hundred

or thousands of members, engaged in outwitting the tsarist police, by whom they were

constantly interpenetrated. At a Bolshevik Party congress held in 1913, out of 22 delegates

present, no fewer than 5, unknown to the others, were government spies.

The revolutionary intelligentsia, because there was normally little that they could do,

spent their time in vehement discussion and interminable refi nement of doctrine. By 1890

the terrorism and nihilism of the 1870s were somewhat passé. The great question was

where these willing offi cers of a revolutionary movement could fi nd an army. Disputa-

tion turned upon such topics as whether the peasants or the new factory workers were the

true revolutionary class, whether the peasants were potentially proletarian or incurably

petty bourgeois, whether Russia was bound to experience the same historical process

as the other countries of Europe, or whether it was different; and, specifi cally, whether

Russia had to go through capitalism or might simply skip the capitalist stage in reaching

the socialist society.

Most of the revolutionary intelligentsia were “populists.” Some had once belonged

to the now broken People’s Will. Some continued to approve of terrorism and assassina-

tion as morally necessary in an autocratic country. They generally had a mystical faith in

the vast inchoate might of the Russian people, and because most R ussians were peasants,

The intelligentsia

Peasant demands

87. Backgrounds

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Chapter 18 The Russian Revolution and the Emergence of the Soviet Union740

the populists were interested in peasant problems and peasant welfare. They believed

that a great native revolutionary tradition existed in Russia, of which the peasant rebel-

lion of Pugachev, in 1773, was the chief example. The populists admired

the mir, in which they saw the European socialist idea of a “commune”

represented. They read and respected Marx and Engels (indeed, a populist

fi rst translated the Communist Manifesto into Russian); but they did not believe that an urban proletariat was the only true revolutionary class or that socialism

had to evolve historically out of capitalism. They said that in Russia the horrors of capi-

talism could be skipped. They addressed themselves to the plight of the farmer and the

evils of landlordism, favored strengthening the mir and equalizing the shares of all peas-

ants in it; and, because they did not believe that socialism would have to emerge from the

prior triumph of capitalism in Russia, they thought that revolution might come quite

soon. This populist sentiment crystallized in the founding in 1901 of the Social Revolu-

tionary Party.

Two populists, Plekhanov and Axelrod, fl eeing to Switzerland in the 1870s, founded

in exile the organization from which the Russian Social Democratic or Marxist Party was

to grow. A few Marxists began to declare themselves (though not publicly) in Russia itself.

When the youthful Lenin met his future wife N. K. Krupskaya in 1894, she already

Populism

Although new industries began to develop in Russia during the early twentieth century, most people continued to live and work in the countryside. This picture of peasants harvesting hay before the First World War shows that women performed much of the labor and that modern machinery had not yet reached Russian farms. (Library of Congress [LC-DIG-prokc-20224])

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741

belonged to a circle of self-defi ned Marxists. The fact that the peasants in the 1890s were

disappointingly quiescent while machine industry, factor labor, and strikes were develop-

ing rapidly turned many of the revolutionary intelligentsia, though still only

a minority, from populism to Marxism. To Plekhanov and Axelrod were

added, as young leaders, Vladimir Ilyich Lenin (1870–1924), Leon Trotsky

(1879–1940), Joseph V. Stalin (1879–1953), and others.

Of these it was Lenin who, after Marx, was to be claimed by commu-

nism as a theoretical father. Lenin was a short almost rotund man, with a

bounding quickness and intense, penetrating gaze. His hair receded in early

youth, leaving a massive forehead, behind which a restless mind was inex-

haustibly at work. Even in his 20s he was called the Old One. He was of upper-middle-

class origin, son of an inspector of schools who rose in the civilian bureaucracy to a rank

equivalent to major general. Lenin’s boyhood was comfortable and even happy, until the

age of 17, when his elder brother, a student at St. Petersburg, became somewhat inciden-

tally involved in a plot to assassinate Alexander III, for which he was put to death by order

of the tsar himself. Because of this blot on the family record it became impossible for Lenin

to continue with his law studies. He soon joined the ranks of professional revolutionar-

ies, having no other occupation and living precariously from the party funds, which came

mainly from the donations of well-to-do sympathizers.

Arrested as a revolutionary, he spent three years of exile in Siberia. Here the tsarist gov-

ernment treated educated political prisoners with an indulgence not later shown by the Soviet

regime. Lenin and most of the others lived in cottages of their own or boarded with local resi-

dents. No labor was required of them. They borrowed books from Europe; met and visited

with one another; debated, played chess, went hunting, and wrote. They chafed, however, at

being cut off from the mainstream of Russian political life back home. Lenin, his term over,

proceeded in 1900 to western Europe, where except for short secret trips to Russia he

remained until 1917. His intellectual vigor, irresistible drive, and shrewdness as a tactician

soon made him a force in the party. Genius has been called the faculty for everlasting concen-

tration upon one thing. Lenin, said his one-time close associate Axelrod, “for twenty-four

hours of the day is taken up with the revolution, has no thoughts but thoughts of revolution,

and even in his sleep dreams of nothing but revolution.” Such accounts of his intensely

focused activism suggest why and how Lenin would come to lead the Bolshevik Party.

In 1898 the Marxists in Russia, spurred on by émigrés, founded the Social Demo-

cratic Labor party. They were not more revolutionary than the larger group

of Social Revolutionaries. They simply had a different conception of the

revolution. First of all, as good Marxists, they were more inclined to see the

revolution as an international movement, part of the dialectical process of

world history in which all countries were involved. Russia for them was no

different from other countries except that is was less advanced. They expected the world

revolution to break out fi rst in the industrial societies of western Europe. They particularly

admired the German Social Democratic Party, the largest and most fl ourishing of all the

parties that acknowledged the fatherhood of Marx.

If the Social Democrats were more oriented to Europe than the Social Revolutionar-

ies, it was because so many of their spokesmen lived there in exile. They tended to think

that Russia must develop capitalism, an industrialist proletariat, and the modern form of

class struggle before there could be any revolution. Seeing in the urban proletariat the true

revolutionary class, they looked upon the peasantry with suspicion, ridiculed the mir, and

abhorred the Social Revolutionaries. Like Marx himself, the Russian Marxists disapproved

Marxism

Lenin

The Social

Democrats

87. Backgrounds

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Chapter 18 The Russian Revolution and the Emergence of the Soviet Union742

of sporadic terrorism and assassination. For this reason, and because their doctrine seemed

somewhat academic and their revolution seemed rather conditional and far in the future,

the Marxists were for a time actually favored by the tsarist police, who regarded them as

less dangerous than the Social Revolutionaries.

Split in the Social Democrats: Bolsheviks and Mensheviks

The Russian Marxists held a second party congress in Brussels and London in 1903,

attended by émigrés like Lenin and delegates from the underground in Russia, and by

Social Democrats and members of lesser organizations. The purpose of the congress was

to unify all Russian Marxism, but in fact it split it forever. The two resulting factions called

themselves Bolshevik, or majority, and Menshevik, or minority. Lenin was the main author

of the split and hence the founder of Bolshevism. Although after 1903 it was usually

the Mensheviks who had the majority, Lenin clung proudly and stubbornly to the term

Bolshevism, with its favorable connotation of a majority in his support. For a number of

years after 1903 the Social Democrats remained at least formally a single Marxist Party,

but they were now irreconcilably divided into two wings. In 1912 the Bolshevik wing

organized itself as a separate party.

Bolshevism, or Leninism, originally differed from Menshevism

mainly on matters of organization and tactics. Lenin believed that the party

should be a small revolutionary elite, a hard core of reliable and zealous

workers. Those who favored a larger and more open party, with member-

ship for mere sympathizers, became Mensheviks. Lenin insisted upon a strongly central-

ized party, without autonomy for national or other component groups. He demanded

strong authority at the top, by which the central committee would determine the doctrine

and control personnel at all levels of the organization. The Mensheviks favored a greater

degree of infl uence by the membership as a whole. Lenin thought that the party would

strengthen itself by purges, expelling all who developed deviations of opinion. The

Mensheviks, by contrast, came to recommend cooperation with liberals, progressives, and

bourgeois democrats. Lenin regarded such cooperation as purely tactical and temporary,

never concealing that in the end the Bolsheviks must impose their views through a dicta-

torship of the proletariat. The Mensheviks, in short, came to resemble the Marxists of

western Europe, insofar as that was possible under Russian conditions. Lenin stood for

the rigid reaffi rmation of Marxian fundamentals—dialectical materialism and irreconcil-

able class struggle.

Lenin accepted and added little to Marx’s main governing ideas: that capitalism

exploited the workers; that history was shaped by economic forces and was moving toward

socialism; that class struggle was the law of society; and that existing forms of religion,

government, philosophy, and morals were weapons of the ruling class. He did, however,

develop certain theories of imperialism and of the “uneven development of capitalism”

that had been propounded in only general terms by Marx and Engels.

According to this Leninist elaboration of earlier Marxist theory, “imperial-

ism” was exclusively a product of monopoly capitalism, that is, capitalism

in its “highest” and “fi nal” stage, which develops differently and at differ-

ent times in each country. Monopoly capitalism, as Lenin interpreted it,

was bent on exporting surplus capital and investing it in underdeveloped areas for greater

profi ts. The unceasing drive for colonies and markets in a world already almost completely

partitioned was leading inevitably to international imperialist wars for the redistribution of

Leninism

Imperialism and

development

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743

colonies, as well as to intensifi ed national colonial struggles for independence; both would

provide new revolutionary opportunities for the proletariat.

In other respects, Lenin roundly denounced all who attempted to “add” anything to the

fundamental principles of Marx. Nothing infuriated him so much as revisionist efforts to tone

down the class struggle or hints that Marxism might in the last analysis perhaps fi nd room

for some kind of religion. As he wrote in 1908: “From the philosophy of Marxism, cast of

one piece of steel, it is impossible to expunge a single basic premise, a single essential part,

without deviating from objective truth, without falling into the arms of bourgeois-reactionary

falsehood.” Lenin was a convert who viewed Marxism as a coherent system of historical

truth. He found in it a theory of revolution that he accepted without reservation as scientifi c

and on which he was more outspokenly dogmatic even than Marx himself. His powers

of mind, which were great, were spent in demonstrating how the unfolding events of the

twentieth century confi rmed the analysis of the master.

Although Leninism contributed little to Marxism as a theory of history, it contributed

a great deal to it as a political movement. Lenin was an activist. He was

the supreme agitator, a fi eld commander in the class war who could dash

off a polemical pamphlet, dominate a party congress, or address throngs of

workers with equal ease. Beside him, Marx and Engels seem almost to be

reclusive sociologists. Marx and Engels had preferred to believe that the dictatorship of the

proletariat, when it came, would represent the wishes of the great majority in a society in

which most people had become proletarians. Lenin more frankly foresaw the possibility

that the proletarian dictatorship might represent the conscious wishes of a small vanguard

and might have to impose itself on great masses by an unshrinking use of force.

Above all, Lenin developed Marx’s idea of the role of the party. He drew on the rich

experience of pre-Marxist revolutionaries in Russia—the mysterious use of false names,

Lenin as activist

Lenin built the Russian Bolshevik Party into a disciplined revolutionary movement by insisting that a small, centralized elite should make all of the party’s key strategic decisions. When the opportunity for revolutionary action fi nally arrived during the First World War, the Bolsheviks had an effective, centralized political organization, a well-defi ned Marxist conception of class confl ict, and the strong-willed leadership of Lenin—who is shown here addressing a crowd in the spring of 1920. (AFP/Getty Images)

87. Backgrounds

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Chapter 18 The Russian Revolution and the Emergence of the Soviet Union744

invisible ink, secret ciphers, forged passports, and hidden meeting places—

the whole conspiratorial wonderland that, when it existed to a lesser degree

in western Europe before 1848, drew Marx’s scorn and laughter. Lenin’s

conception of the party was basically Marx’s, reinforced by his own experience as a

Russian. The party was an organization in which intellectuals provided leadership and

understanding for workers, who could not see so clearly for themselves. For trade unionism,

concerned only with the day-to-day demands of workers, Lenin had even less patience than

Marx. “The unconscious growth of the labor movement,” he wrote, “takes the form of trade

unionism, and trade unionism signifi es the mental enslavement of the workers to the bour-

geoisie.” The task of intellectuals in the party was to make the trade unions and the work-

ers class-conscious and hence revolutionary. Armed with “objective” knowledge, known

to be correct, the party leadership naturally could not listen to the subjective opinions of

others—the passing ideas of laborers, peasants, mistaken party subordinates, or other

parties pretending to know more than Marx himself. The idea that intellectuals supply

the brains and workers the brawn, that an elite leads while the toilers meekly follow, is

understandable enough in view of the Russian background, which had created on the one

hand a highly self-conscious intelligentsia and on the other a repressed working class and

peasantry deprived of all opportunity for political experience of their own. The insistence

on a leading and powerful role for the party elite became one of the most distinctive traits

of Leninism and one of the ideas most foreign to the democratic movements in other parts

of Europe.

Leninism accomplished the marriage of Russian revolutionary traditions with the

Western doctrine of Marxism. It was an improbable marriage, whose momentous offspring

was to be communism. But at the time, when Bolshevism fi rst appeared in 1903, it had

little or no effect. When revolution fi rst broke out in Russia in 1905, it took the revolution-

ary émigrés almost entirely by surprise.

88. THE REVOLUTION OF 1905

Background and Revolutionary Events

The almost simultaneous founding at the turn of the century of the Constitutional Demo-

cratic, Social Revolutionary, and Social Democratic parties was clearly a sign of mounting

discontent. All three parties were essentially propaganda agencies, made up of leaders

without followers, intellectuals who followed various lines of thought. All, even those

who became Constitutional Democrats, were watched by the police and obliged to do most

of their work underground. At the same time, after 1900, there were signs

of growing popular unrest. Peasants were trespassing on lands of the gen-

try and even rising in local insurrections against landlords and tax collec-

tors. Factory workers sporadically refused to work. But with these popular

movements none of the new parties had formed any solid links, in part because there were

still no elections in Russia above the provincial zemstvo level.

The government refused to make concessions of any kind. The tsar, Nicholas II, who

had mounted the throne in 1894, was a man of narrow outlook. Tutored in his youth by

the lay leader of the Russian Orthodox Church, he regarded all ideas questioning autoc-

racy, Orthodoxy, and Great Russian nationalism as un-Russian. That persons in the gov-

ernment should be controlled by interests outside the government—the mildest liberalism

Growing discontent

The party

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74588. The Revolution of 1905

or most orderly democracy—seemed to the tsar, the tsarina, and the leading offi cials to be

a monstrous aberration. Autocracy, for them, was the best and only form of government

for Russia.

The chief minister, P lehve, and the circles at court hoped that a short successful war

with Japan would create more attachment to the government. The war went so badly that

its effect was the reverse. Critics of the regime (except for the handful of

the most internationalist Marxists) were suffi ciently patriotic to be ashamed

at the ease with which Russia was defeated by an upstart, Asian power. As

after the Crimean War, there was a general feeling that the government had

exposed its incompetence to all the world. Liberals believed that its secret

methods, its immunity to criticism or control, had made it sluggish, obstinate, and ineffi -

cient, unable either to win a war or to lead the economic modernization that was taking

place in Russia. But there was little that the liberals could do.

The police had recently allowed a priest, Father Gapon, to try to organize the

St. Petersburg factory workers, hoping thus to counter the propaganda of revolutionaries.

Father Gapon took up the workers’ grievances in all seriousness. They believed, as unedu-

cated peasants only recently transplanted to the city, that if only they could reach the ear of

the tsar, whom they called the Little Father, he would hear their complaints with shocked

surprise and rectify the evils that affl icted Russia. They drew up a petition, asking for an

eight-hour day, a minimum daily wage of 1 ruble (50 cents), a repudiation of bungling

bureaucrats, and a democratically elected Constituent Assembly to introduce representa-

tive government into the empire. Unarmed, peaceable, respectful, singing “God save the

Tsar,” a crowd of 200,000—men, women, and children—gathered before the tsar’s Winter

Palace one Sunday in January 1905. But the tsar was not in the city, and his offi cials were

fearful. Troops marched up and shot down the demonstrators in cold blood, killing

several hundred.

“Bloody Sunday” in St. Petersburg snapped the moral bond upon

which all stable government rests. The horrifi ed workers saw that the tsar

was not their friend. The autocracy stood revealed as the force behind

the hated offi cials, the tax collectors, the landlords, and the owners of the

industrial plants. A wave of political strikes broke out. Social Democrats

(more Mensheviks than Bolsheviks) appeared from the underground or from exile to give

revolutionary direction to these movements. Councils or “soviets” of workers were formed

in Moscow and St. Petersburg. The peasants, too, in many parts of the country spontane-

ously began to erupt, overrunning the lands of the gentry, burning manor houses and doing

violence to their owners. Social Revolutionaries saw opportunities for a radical political

upheaval and tried to take over this movement. The liberal Constitutional Democrats—

professors, engineers, business people, lawyers, and leaders in the provincial zemstvos

founded 40 years before—tried also to seize leadership or at least use the crisis to force

the government’s hand. All agreed on one demand: that there should be more democratic

representation in the government.

The tsar yielded grudgingly and as little as possible. In March 1905 he promised to

call to offi ce men “enjoying the confi dence of the nation.” In August (after a ruinous defeat

in the naval battle of Tsushima) he agreed to call a kind of Estates General, for which peas-

ants, landowners, and city people should vote as separate classes. Still the revolution raged

unchecked. The St. Petersburg Soviet, or workers’ council, led mainly by Mensheviks

(Lenin had not yet reached Russia), declared a great general strike in October. Railroads

stopped, banks closed, newspapers ceased to appear, and even lawyers refused to go to

Response to military

defeat

Reactions to “Bloody

Sunday”

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Chapter 18 The Russian Revolution and the Emergence of the Soviet Union746

their offi ces. The strike spread to other cities and to the peasants. With the government

paralyzed, the tsar issued his October Manifesto. It promised a constitution, civil liberties,

and a Duma to be elected by all classes alike, with powers to enact laws and control the

administration.

The tsar and his advisers intended to divide the opposition by releas-

ing the O ctober Manifesto, and in this they succeeded. The Constitutional

Democrats, with a Duma promised, allowed themselves to hope that social

problems could henceforth be dealt with by parliamentary methods. Lib-

erals were now afraid of revolutionaries, industrialists feared the strength

shown by labor in the general strike, and landowners demanded a restoration of order

among the peasants. The more militant peasants and workers, however, were not yet satis-

fi ed: the former still wanted more land and less taxation; the latter, a shorter working day

and a living wage. The several branches of revolutionary intellectuals worked upon the

continuing popular agitation, hoping to carry matters forward until the tsarist monarchy

was abolished and a socialist republic was established with themselves at its head. They

believed also (and correctly) that the October Manifesto was in any case a deception, which

the tsar would refuse to implement as soon as revolutionary pressure was removed. The

soviets continued to seethe, local strikes went on, and there were mutinies among soldiers

at Kronstadt and sailors in the Black Sea fl eet.

But the government was able to maintain itself. With the middle-class liberals now

inactive or demanding order, the authorities arrested the members of the St. Petersburg

Soviet. Peace was hastily made with Japan, and reliable troops were recalled from the Far

The October

Manifesto

The angry response to “Bloody Sunday” in early 1905 erupted in a wave of strikes, demands for political reform, and militant demonstrations, including this protest march in St. Petersburg. Most of the protestors in this photograph were students, and they were marching behind red fl ags that had become a modern symbol for revolutionary political movements. (Sovfoto)

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747

East. The revolutionary leaders fl ed back to Europe, or again went underground, or were

caught and sent to prison or to Siberia; executions were carried out in the countryside.

The Revolution of 1905 would prove to be only a dress rehearsal for the revolution to

come in 1917.

The Results of 1905: The Duma

The chief apparent result of the Revolution of 1905 was to make Russia, at least osten-

sibly, into a parliamentary type of state like the rest of Europe. The promised Duma was

convoked. For ten years, from 1906 to 1916, Russia had at least the superfi cial attributes of

a semiconstitutional monarchy.

But Nicholas II soon showed that he did not intend to yield much. He drew the teeth

of the new Duma before the assembly could even be born, by announcing in advance, in

1906, that it would have no power over foreign policy, the budget, or government person-

nel. His attitude toward constitutional monarchy continued until 1917 to be entirely neg-

ative; the one concession that tsarism would not allow was any real participation in

government by the public. Within this “public” the two extreme fringes were equally

impervious to liberal constitutionalism. On the Right, stubborn upholders of pure autoc-

racy and the Orthodox Church organized the Black Hundreds, terrorizing the peasantry

and urging them to boycott the Duma. On the Left, in 1906, the Social Revolutionaries

and both the Bolshevik and Menshevik wings of the Social Democrats likewise refused

to recognize the Duma, urged workers to boycott it, and refused to put up any candidates

for election.

The short-lived fi rst Duma was elected in 1906 by a system of indirect

and unequal voting, in which peasants and workers voted as separate

classes, and with proportionately far less representation than was granted to

the landlords. In the absence of socialist candidates, workers and peasants voted for all

sorts of people, including the liberal Constitutional Democrats (the Cadets), who obtained

a sweeping majority. The Cadets, when the Duma met, found themselves still fi ghting for

the bare principle of constitutional government. They demanded true universal male suf-

frage and the responsibility of ministers to a parliamentary majority. The tsar’s response

was to dismiss the Duma after two months.

A second Duma was elected in 1907, with the government trying to

control the elections through suppression of party meetings and newspa-

pers, but because Social Revolutionaries and Mensheviks now consented to

take part, some 83 socialists were elected. The Cadets, becoming fearful of the revolution-

ary Left, concluded that constitutional progress must be gradual and showed a willingness

to cooperate with the government. But the Duma came to an abrupt end when the govern-

ment denounced and arrested some 50 socialists as revolutionaries bent only on destruc-

tion. A third Duma, elected after an electoral change that gave increased representation

to the landed propertied class and guaranteed a conservative majority, managed to hold

several sessions between 1907 and 1912, as did a fourth Duma from 1912 to 1916. The

deputies, by following the lead of the government, by addressing themselves only to con-

crete issues, by losing themselves in committee work, and by avoiding the basic question

of where supreme power lay, kept precariously alive a modicum of parliamentary institu-

tions in the tsarist empire.

The fi rst Duma

The second Duma

88. The Revolution of 1905

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Chapter 18 The Russian Revolution and the Emergence of the Soviet Union748

The Stolypin Reforms

Some offi cials believed that the way to checkmate the revolutionaries and strengthen the

hold of the monarchy was for the government, while keeping all controls in its own hands,

to attract the support of moderate people by a program of reforms. One of these reformers

was Peter Stolypin, whom the tsar retained as his principal minister from 1906 to 1911. It

was Stolypin who dissolved the fi rst two Dumas. But it was not his policy merely to stand

still. His aim was to build up the propertied classes as friends of the state. He believed,

perhaps rightly, that a state actively supported by widespread private property had little to

fear from doctrinaire intellectuals, conspirators, and émigrés. He therefore broadened the

powers of the provincial zemstvos, in which the larger landowners took part in administer-

ing local affairs. For the peasantry he put through legislation more sweeping than any since

the Emancipation, allowing peasants to sell their shares in the communal land of the mirs

and leave their villages. Peasants also gained the right to acquire private control over land

and to buy property from the communes or the gentry.

The Stolypin policy was successful. Between 1907 and 1916,

6.2 million families out of 16 million who were eligible applied for legal

separation from the mir. There was no mistaking the trend toward individual

property and independent farming. But the results of the Stolypin program

must not be exaggerated. The mir was far from broken. A vast majority of

peasants were still involved in the old system of common rights and communal restric-

tions. The land shortage was still acute in the agricultural areas where yields were highest.

Land hunger and poverty continued in the countryside. There were the new big farmers—

the kulaks —to be resented and envied, but the largest landed proprietors were still the gentry. About 30,000 landlords owned nearly 200 million acres of land, and another 200

million acres made up other large landed estates.

Stolypin was not left long to carry on his program. The tsar gave him only an unwill-

ing support. Reactionary circles disliked his tampering ways and his European orientation.

Social Revolutionaries cried out against dissolution of the communes. Even Marxists, who

should in theory have applauded the advance of capitalism in Russia, feared that Stolypin’s

reforms might do away with agrarian discontent. “I do not expect to live to see the revolu-

tion,” said Lenin in these years. Stolypin was shot dead while attending the theater in Kiev,

in the presence of the tsar and tsarina, in 1911. The assassin, a member of the terrorist wing

of the Social Revolutionaries, is thought also to have been a secret agent of the reactionary

tsarist police. It may be added that Stolypin’s predecessor, Plehve, and about a dozen other

high offi cials within the past few years had similarly died at the hands of assassins.

But all in all, despite its violence and repression, the Russian Empire

on the eve of the First World War was moving toward the kinds of political

and social institutions that had developed earlier in the more industrialized

societies of western Europe. Its industries were growing, its railways were

expanding, and its exports were almost half as great in value as those of the United States.

It had a parliament, if not a parliamentary government. Private property and individualist

capitalism were spreading to new social layers of the population. There was a guarded

freedom of the press, illustrated, for example, by the legal and open establishment of the

Bolshevik Party paper, Pravda (or Truth ), in St. Petersburg in 1912. It is not possible to say how far this development might have gone, for it was menaced on both the Right and

the Left by obstinate reactionaries upholding the absolute tsardom and by revolutionar-

ies whom nothing but the end of tsardom and wholesale transformation of society could

Success of the

Stolypin program

Westernization

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74989. The Revolution of 1917

appease. But both extremes were discouraged. The desperation of extreme reactionaries in

the government, the feeling that they might in any case soon lose their position, perhaps

made them the more willing to precipitate a European war by armed support of Serbian

nationalists. As for the revolutionary parties, and especially the Bolsheviks, they were los-

ing in membership on the eve of the war; their leaders lived year after year in exile, dream-

ing of the great days of 1905, which stubbornly failed to repeat themselves and sometimes

pessimistically admitting, as Lenin did, that there might be no revolution in their time.

89. THE REVOLUTION OF 1917

End of the Tsardom: The Revolution of March 1917

War again put the tsarist regime to a test that it could not meet. In this war, more total than any

had ever been, willing cooperation between government and people was indispensable to suc-

cess. This essential prerequisite the tsarist empire did not have. National minorities—Poles,

Ukrainians, the peoples of the Caucasus, Jews, and others—were disaffected. As for the

socialists, who in every other European parliament voted for funds to fi nance the war, the

dozen otherwise disunited socialists in the Duma refused to do so and were promptly jailed.

The ordinary worker and peasant marched off with the army, but without the sense of per-

sonal conviction felt in 1914 by common people in other European nations. More decisive

was the attitude of the middle class. Because they patriotically wished Russia to win, the glar-

ing mismanagement of the government was the more intolerable to them. The Russian disas-

ters at the battles of Tannenberg and the Masurian Lakes, with which the war opened in 1914,

were followed by the advance of the Central Powers into Russia in 1915, at the cost of

2 million Russian soldiers killed, wounded, or captured.

At the war’s outbreak middle-class people, as in all countries, offered

their assistance to the government. The provincial zemstvos formed a union

of all zemstvos in the empire to facilitate the mobilization of agriculture

and industry. Business groups at Petrograd (as St. Petersburg was renamed during the war)

formed a commercial and industrial committee to get the factories into maximum pro-

duction. The government distrusted these signs of public activity arising outside offi cial

circles. On the other hand, organized in this way, middle-class people became conscious of

their own strength and more critical of the bureaucracy. Rumors spread that some offi cials

in the war ministry itself were pro-German, reactionaries who feared the liberalism of

Britain and France with which Russia was allied.

Life at court was increasingly bizarre. The tsarina Alexandra, German by origin,

looked upon all Russians outside her own circle with contempt, incited her husband to play

the proud and pitiless autocrat, and took advice from a self-appointed holy man, the mys-

terious Rasputin. She was convinced that Rasputin possessed supernatural and prophetic

powers, because he had apparently cured her young son of hemophilia. Rasputin, by his

infl uence over her, had a voice in appointments to high offi ce. All who wished an audi-

ence with the imperial pair had to go through him. Patriotic and enlightened persons of all

classes vainly protested. In these circumstances, and given the military defeats, the union

of zemstvos and other such wartime bodies complained not merely of faults of adminis-

tration but of fundamental conditions in the state. The government responded by holding

them at arm’s length. The tsarist regime, caught in a total war, was afraid of the help

offered by its own people.

Middle-class support

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Chapter 18 The Russian Revolution and the Emergence of the Soviet Union750

During the war, in September 1915, the Duma was suspended. The war

thus revived all the basic political issues that had been latent since the Rev-

olution of 1905. The union of zemstvos demanded restoration of the Duma,

which reassembled in November 1916 and expressed loud indignation at

the way affairs were conducted. Among all elements of the population, dissatisfaction

with the course of the war and with the government’s ineptitude mounted. In December

Tsar Nicholas II, the last of the Romanov rulers in Russia, sought to wage war against Germany without mobilizing the popular support of the Russian people. This photograph shows the tsar with his wife and children during the fi rst year of the war. Nicholas abdicated the throne in March 1917, and the Bolsheviks put the entire family to death in the following year. (akg-images/Newscom)

The mystical monk Rasputin gained a much-resented infl uence over tsarina Alexandra and the affairs of the Russian government because he seemed to cure the illness of the royal family’s young son. Rasputin’s mysterious personality is evoked in this picture, which was taken shortly before his enemies at court mur- dered him in 1916. (Musée des 2 Guerres Mondiales Paris/Gianni

Dagli Orti/The Art Archive at Art Resource, NY)

Deepening of political

divisions

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751

Rasputin was assassinated by nobles at the court. The tsar began to consider repression and

again adjourned the Duma. Members of the Duma and of the new extragovernmental bod-

ies concluded that the situation could be saved only by force. It is when moderate persons,

normally concerned with their own business, come to such conclusions that revolution

becomes a political possibility. The shift of moderates and liberals, their need of a coup

d’état to save themselves from reactionaries, likewise raised the long-awaited prospects of

the minority of professional revolutionaries.

Again it was the workers of Petrograd who precipitated the crisis. Food had become

scarce, as in all the belligerent countries. But the tsarist administration was too clumsy and

too demoralized by graft to institute the controls that had become usual elsewhere, such

as maximum prices and ration cards. It was the poorest who felt the food shortage most

keenly. On March 8, 1917, food riots broke out, which soon developed, doubtless with

the help of revolutionary intellectuals, into political insurrection. Crowds shouted, “Down

with the tsar!” Troops within the city refused to fi re on the insurgents; mutiny and insub-

ordination spread from unit to unit. Within a few days a Soviet of Workers’ and Soldiers’

Deputies, on the model of 1905, had been organized in Petrograd.

Middle-class leaders, with the government now helpless, demanded dismissal of

the ministry and formation of a new one commanding the confi dence of a majority of the

Duma. The tsar retaliated by again disbanding the Duma. The Duma set up an executive

committee to take charge until the situation clarifi ed. There were now two new authorities

in the city: one, the Duma committee, essentially moderate, constitutionalist, and relatively

legal; the other, the Petrograd Soviet, representing revolutionary forces aris-

ing by spontaneous upsurge from below. The Petrograd Soviet (or workers’

“council”) was to play in 1917 a role like that of the Paris Commune of

1792, constantly pushing the supposedly higher and more nationwide

authority to the left. The Soviet became the public auditorium and administrative center of

the working-class upheaval. Because it was generally socialist in its outlook, all the fac-

tions of doctrinaire socialists—Social Revolutionaries, Mensheviks, Bolsheviks—tried to

win it over and utilize it for their own ends.

The Duma committee, under pressure from the Petrograd Soviet, on March 14 set up

a provisional government under Prince Lvov. The Duma liberals, as a concession to the

Soviet, admitted one socialist to the new government, Alexander Kerensky, a moderate,

legal-minded Social Revolutionary; and they furthermore consented to demand the abdi-

cation of Nicholas II. The tsar was then at the front. He tried to return to his palace near

Petrograd, but the imperial train was stopped and turned back by troops. The army, fate-

fully, was taking the side of the revolution. The very generals in the fi eld, unable to vouch

for the loyalty of their men, advised abdication. Nicholas yielded; his brother, the grand

duke, declined to succeed him; and on March 17, 1917, Russia became a republic.

The Bolshevik Revolution: November 1917

The provisional government, following the best precedents of European revolutions,

called for elections by universal male suffrage to a Constituent Assembly, which was to

meet late in the year and prepare a constitution for the new regime. It tried also to continue

the war against Germany. In July an offensive was mounted, but the demoralized Russian

armies were quickly routed. Pending fi nal decision by the Constituent Assembly, the

provisional government promised wholesale redistribution of land to the peasants but took

no action. Meanwhile, the peasants, driven by the old land hunger, were already

The Petrograd Soviet

89. The Revolution of 1917

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Chapter 18 The Russian Revolution and the Emergence of the Soviet Union752

overrunning the rural districts, burning and looting. At the front the armies melted away;

many high offi cers refused to serve the republic, and masses of peasant soldiers simply

turned their backs and went home, unwilling to be absent while land was being handed

out. The Petrograd Soviet, opposing the provisional government, called for speedy termi-

nation of the war. Fearing reactionary offi cers, it issued on March 14 its Order No. 1,

entrusting command within the army to committees elected by both offi cers and soldiers.

Discipline collapsed.

The revolution was thus already well advanced when Lenin and

the other Bolsheviks arrived in Petrograd in the middle of April. They

immediately took sides with the Petrograd Soviet against the provisional

government, and with similar soviets that had sprung up in other parts of

the country. In July an armed uprising of soldiers and sailors, which the

Bolshevik central committee disapproved of as premature, was put down. The Bolsheviks

were blamed, and Lenin had to fl ee to Finland. But as a bid for popular support the provi-

sional government named the socialist Alexander Kerensky as its head in place of Prince

Revolution

advancing

Russia’s costly military defeats and the food shortages that developed because of the long war contributed decisively to the revolutionary uprising that overthrew Tsar Nicholas II. Similar discontents soon undermined popular support for the provisional government, which tried to continue the war. These women in Petrograd were demanding increased food rations for Russian soldiers, but their demonstration in 1917 is an example of the wider political mobiliza- tion that swept across Russia during that revolutionary year. (Sovfoto)

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753

Lvov in an uneasy coalition of moderate socialists and liberals. Kerensky’s middle position

was next threatened from the Right. The newly appointed military commander, General

Kornilov, dispatched a force of cavalry to restore order. Not only conservatives but liberals

wished him success in the hope that he would suppress the soviets. Kornilov’s movement

was defeated, but with the aid of the Bolsheviks, who rallied with other socialists, and of

revolutionary-minded soldiers in the city who offered armed resistance. Radicals denounced

liberals as accomplices in Kornilov’s attempt at counterrevolution, and both camps blamed

Kerensky for having allowed the plot to be hatched under his government. Both liberals

and moderate socialists abandoned Kerensky, and he had to form a government of uncer-

tain political support. Meanwhile the food shortage worsened with transport disarranged

and the farm population in turmoil, so that workers in the city listened more willingly to the

most extreme speakers.

The Bolsheviks adapted their program to what the most active elements in a revolu-

tionary people seemed to want. Lenin concentrated on four points: fi rst, immediate peace

with the Central Powers; second, redistribution of land to the peasants; third, transfer of

factories, mines, and other industrial plants from the capitalists to committees of workers

in each plant; and, fourth, recognition of the soviets as the supreme power instead of the

provisional government. Lenin, though a rigid dogmatist on abstract questions, was a fl ex-

ible and bold tactician, and his program in 1917 was dictated more by the immediate situ-

ation in Russia than by considerations of theoretic a l Marxism. What was needed was to

win over soldiers, peasants, and workers by promising them “peace, land, and bread.”

With this program, and by infi ltration and parliamentary stratagems, as well as by their

accuracy as political prophets—predicting the Kornilov counterrevolution and “unmask-

ing” the trend of middle-way liberals to support it—the Bolsheviks won a majority in the

Petrograd Soviet and in soviets all over the country.

Lenin thereupon raised the cry, “All power to the Soviets!” to crush

Kerensky and forestall the coming Constituent Assembly. Kerensky, to

broaden the base on which he stood, and unable to wait for the Constituent

Assembly, convoked a kind of pre-parliament representing all parties, labor

unions, and zemstvos. Lenin and the Bolsheviks boycotted his pre-parliament. Instead they

called an all-Russian Congress of Soviets.

Lenin now judged that the hour had come for the seizure of power. The Bolsheviks

themselves were divided, but Lenin was backed by Trotsky, Stalin, and a majority of the

party Central Committee. Troops garrisoned in Petrograd voted to support the soviets,

which the Bolsheviks now controlled. On the night of November 6–7, 1917, the Bolsheviks

took over telephone exchanges, railway stations, and electric power plants in the city. A

warship turned its guns on the Winter Palace, where Kerensky’s government sat. The latter

could fi nd almost no one to defend it. The hastily assembled Congress of Soviets pro-

nounced the provisional government defunct and named in its place a Council of People’s

Commissars, of which Lenin became the head. Trotsky was named commissar for foreign

affairs; Stalin, commissar for nationalities. Kerensky fl ed, eventually arriving in the United

States, where he died in 1970.

At the Congress of Soviets Lenin introduced two resolutions. One

called upon the belligerent governments to negotiate a “just democratic

peace,” without annexations and without indemnities; the second “abolished

all landlord property” immediately and without compensation. Although

determined to establish a proletarian dictatorship, the Bolsheviks knew the importance of

the Russian peasants. The millions of acres belonging to the large estates that were now

“All power to the

Soviets!”

Resolutions on peace

and property

89. The Revolution of 1917

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Chapter 18 The Russian Revolution and the Emergence of the Soviet Union754

expropriated provided a base of peasant support for the new regime without which it could

hardly have survived.

Thus was accomplished the Bolshevik or November Revolution. 1 But the long awaited

Constituent Assembly remained to be dealt with. It fi nally met in January 1918. Thirty-six

million persons had voted for it. Of these, 9 million had voted for Bolshevik deputies,

showing that the Bolshevik program, launched less than a year before by a small band of

émigrés, had a widespread mass appeal. But almost 21 million had voted for Kerensky’s

party, the agrarian, populist, peasant-oriented Social Revolutionaries. However, said Lenin,

“to hand over power to the Constituent Assembly would again be compromising with the

malignant bourgeoisie.” The Assembly was broken up on the second day of its sessions;

armed sailors dispatched by the people’s commissars simply surrounded it. The forcible

dissolution of the Constituent Assembly was a frank repudiation of majority rule in favor

of “class rule”—to be exercised for the proletariat by the Bolsheviks. The dictatorship

of the proletariat was now established. Two months later, in March 1918, the Bolsheviks

renamed themselves the Communist Party.

The New Regime: The Civil War, 1918–1922

In these same months, the Communists, or Bolsheviks, signed the peace of Brest-Litovsk

with Germany, surrendering to Germany control over the Baltic provinces, Poland, and

Ukraine. The Russian conquests of two centuries were thus abandoned, but to Lenin it

made no difference. He was convinced that the events that he had just mastered in Russia

were the prelude to a general upheaval; that the war, still raging in Europe, would bring

all of the belligerent nations to the inevitable proletarian or Marxist revolution; that Impe-

rial Germany was therefore doomed; and that Poles, Ukrainians, and others would soon

emerge, like the Germans themselves, as free socialist peoples. In any case, it was largely

by promising peace that Lenin had won enough backing to overthrow Kerensky, who on

this deep popular demand had delayed too long, waiting for Britain and France to release

Russia from its treaty obligations as an ally. But real peace did not come, for the country

sank immediately into civil war.

Not only old tsarist reactionaries, and not only bourgeois liberals, zemstvo members,

and Constitutional Democrats, but all types of anti-Leninist socialists as well, Mensheviks

and Social Revolutionaries, scattered in all directions to organize resistance against the

regime of soviets and people’s commissars; and they soon obtained aid from the Western

Allies. Both sides competed for the support of the peasants.

As for the new regime, the oldest of its institutions was the Bolshevik Party, founded

as a wing of the Social Democrats in 1903; the next oldest were the soviets, dating from

1905 and 1917; and then came the Council of People’s Commissars set up on the day of

the coup d’état. The fi rst institution founded under the new order was a political police, an

Extraordinary All-Russian Commission of Struggle Against Counterrevolution, Specula-

tion, and Sabotage, commonly known from its Russian initials as the Cheka and in later

years, without basic change of methods or purpose, under such successive names as the

OGPU, the NKVD, the MVD, and the KGB. It was established on December 7, 1917. In

January 1918 the Red Army was founded, with Leon Trotsky as war commissar and virtu-

ally its creator. In July a constitution was promulgated.

1 Also known as the October Revolution, because according to the Julian calendar used in Russia until 1918, the

events described took place in October.

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In social policy the B olsheviks at fi rst adopted no long-range plans, contenting

themselves with a mixture of principle and expediency known as “war com-

munism.” They nationalized some of the largest industrial enterprises but left

the bulk under the control of workers’ committees. The pressing problem was

to fi nd food, which had ceased to move through any normal channels. The

peasants, very much as in the French Revolution under similar conditions—worthless money,

insecure property titles, unruly hired hands, armed marauding, and a doubtful future—were

producing less food than usual, consuming it themselves, or hoarding it on their own farms.

The response of the government and city workers also resembled the French response in

1793. The new government levied requisitions, required the peasants to make stated “deliver-

ies,” and invited labor unions to send armed detachments into the country to procure food by

force. Because it was naturally the big farmers who had the surplus, they came into disrepute

as starvers of the people. Class war broke out between farmers who feared that their very

subsistence as well as their property would be taken away and city people, often supported by

hungry agricultural laborers, who were driven to desperation by famine. Many peasants,

especially the larger farmers, therefore rallied to anti-Bolshevik political leaders.

Centers of resistance developed on every side. In the Don Valley a small force assem-

bled under Generals Kornilov and Denikin, with many army offi cers, gentry landowners,

and expropriated business people taking part in it. The Social Revolutionaries gathered

followers on the middle Volga. Their most signifi cant military support came from a force

of some 45,000 Czechs, who had deserted or been captured from the Austro-Hungarian

armies and had then been organized as a Czech Legion to fi ght on the side of Russia and

the Allies. After the November Revolution and the peace of Brest-Litovsk, these Czechs

decided to leave Russia by way of the Trans-Siberian Railroad, return to Europe by sea,

and resume fi ghting on the western front. When Bolshevik offi cials undertook to disarm

them, they allied with the Social Revolutionaries on the Volga.

The Allied governments believed that Bolshevism was a temporary madness that with

little effort could be stopped. They wished above all to bring Russia back into the war

against Germany, an objective they sought to achieve by launching a mili-

tary intervention in East Asia, through Vladivostok. The Japanese, who had

declined military aid to their allies in any other theater, viewed this action

favorably, seeing in the ruin of the Russian Empire a rare opportunity to

develop their sphere of infl uence in East Asia. It was agreed that an interallied military

force should land at Vladivostok, cross Siberia, join with the Czechs, break up Bolshevism,

and fall upon the Germans in eastern Europe. For this ambitious scheme Britain and France

could supply no soldiers, engaged as they were on the western front. The force turned out

to be American and Japanese, but predominantly Japanese; Japan contributed 72,000 men

and the United States only 8,000. They landed at Vladivostok in August 1918.

The civil war lasted until 1920, or even later in some places. It became a confused

melee in which the Bolsheviks struggled against Russian opponents, independence-

minded nationalities, and foreign intervention. The Red Army fought in Ukraine fi rst

against the Germans and then against the French, who occupied Odessa as soon as the war

ended in Europe. It reconquered Ukraine, Armenia, Georgia, and Azerbaijan, all of which

had declared their independence in 1918; put to fl ight a hundred thousand “Whites,” as

the counterrevolutionaries were called, in the south; and fought off Admiral Kolchak,

who in Siberia proclaimed himself ruler of all Russia. In 1920, the Bolsheviks carried on

a war with the new republic of Poland, which was scarcely organized when it set out to

recover the huge Ukrainian and Byelorussian territories that had been Polish before 1772.

“War communism”

Allied responses

89. The Revolution of 1917

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Chapter 18 The Russian Revolution and the Emergence of the Soviet Union756

A small force of British, French, and American troops occupied the northern Russian city

of Archangel until the end of 1919, and the Japanese remained at Vladivostok until the

end of 1922.

But the anti-Bolshevik forces could never unite. The anti-Communist

Russians represented every hue of the political spectrum from unregen-

erate tsarists to left-wing Social Revolutionaries. Many of the rightist

anti-Bolsheviks openly antagonized the peasants by proceeding to restore

expropriated landed estates in areas they occupied; many engaged in vin-

dictive reprisals in a kind of “white terror.” Leon Trotsky, on the other hand, shaped in

the civil wars a disciplined, effective Red Army, recruiting it, organizing it, unifying it,

and equipping it as best he could, assigning political commissars to watch it, and assuring

that trustworthy offi cers occupied its high command. The Bolsheviks could denounce the

foreign intervention and appeal to national patriotism, and they could win peasant support

by the distribution of land.

By 1922 the Bolsheviks, or Communists, had established themselves up to the fron-

tiers of the former tsarist empire in every direction except on the European side. There the

band of Baltic states—Finland, Estonia, Latvia, and Lithuania—remained independent;

Romania had acquired Bessarabia, the new Romanian frontier reaching now almost to

Odessa. Poland, as a result of the war of 1920, retained a frontier farther east than the

Allies themselves had intended. Russia thus lost thousands of square miles of territory and

Disunity among anti-

Bolshevik forces

Leon Trotsky commanded the Red Army that defeated the Bolsheviks’ many ene- mies in the Civil War of 1918–1922. He is seen here in the early years of the revo- lution, when he emerged as a key politi- cal and military leader of the Bolshevik Party and an infl uential theorist of inter- national communism. (Hulton Archive/Getty Images)

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757

buffer areas that the tsars had brought into their empire over the centuries. These territories

remained lost to the new Soviet state until the Second World War. But peace was won and

the regime stood.

It was during these civil wars that the Red Terror broke out in Russia.

Like the famous Terror in France in 1793, it was in part a response to civil

and foreign war. Before the Bolshevik Terror, however, the old Jacobin

Terror paled. Thousands were shot in Russia merely as hostages (a prac-

tice unknown to Europe for some time); and other thousands were killed without even

the summary formalities of revolutionary tribunals. The Cheka was the most formidable

political police that had yet appeared. The Bolshevik Terror was aimed at the physical

extermination of all who opposed the new regime. A bourgeois class background would

go far to confi rm the guilt of the person charged with conspiring against the Soviet state.

As a chief of the Cheka said: “The fi rst questions you should put to the accused person

are, To what class does he belong, what is his origin, what was his education, and what is

his profession? These should determine the fate of the accused. This is the essence of the

Red Terror.”

The Red Terror

The Bolsheviks’ consolidation of power depended on the carefully controlled Red Army. This is a Red Army artillery battalion that was engaged in the suppression of the Kronstadt sailors’ uprising in 1921. (ITAR-TASS/Sovfoto)

89. The Revolution of 1917

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Chapter 18 The Russian Revolution and the Emergence of the Soviet Union758

But a working-class background for a man or a woman made little difference. In 1918

a young woman named Fanny Kaplan shot at Lenin and wounded him. She deposed that

she had favored the Constituent Assembly, that her parents had emigrated to America in

1911, that she had six working-class brothers and sisters; and she admitted that she had

intended to kill Lenin. She was of course executed, as were others in Petrograd. When the

sailors at Kronstadt, who were among the fi rst adherents of the Bolsheviks, rose in 1921,

objecting to domination of the soviets by the party (threatening a kind of leftist renewal of

the revolution, like the Hébertists who had opposed Robespierre), they were branded as

petty bourgeois and shot down by the thousands. The Terror struck at the revolutionists

themselves quite as much as it did the bourgeoisie; it was to continue to do so long after the

revolution was secure.

The Terror succeeded in its purpose. Together with the victories of the

Red Army, it established the new regime. Those “bourgeois” who survived

took on the protective coloration of “toilers.” No bourgeois person as such

presumed to take part in the new politics of Russia. Mensheviks and other

socialists fl eeing to Europe told appalling stories of the human toll taken by Lenin. Hor-

rifi ed European socialists repudiated communism as an atrocious, Russian perversion of

Marxism. But, at whatever cost, Lenin and his followers were now able to start building

the socialist society as they understood it.

90. THE UNION OF SOVIET SOCIALIST REPUBLICS

Government: The Nationalities and Federalism

With the end of the civil wars and foreign intervention, and with the termination of the

war with Poland, it became possible in 1922 to establish the Union of Soviet Socialist

Republics. There were at fi rst four such republics in the Union, but political reorganiza-

tion and the occupation of new territories at the beginning of the Second World War

increased the number to 15 (see map, pp. 762–763). Although many of these new repub-

lics were established in central Asia, most of the Soviet Union’s population lived in three

large Slavic regions: the Russian Soviet Federated Socialist Republic, the Ukrainian

Soviet Socialist Republic, and the Byelorussian Soviet Socialist Republic. In the new

Union, which geographically replaced the old Russian Empire, the name Russia was not

offi cially used. The guiding conception was a blend of the national and the international:

to recognize nationality by granting autonomy to national groups, while holding these

groups together in a higher union and allowing new groups to enter regardless of historic

frontiers. In 1922 the expectation of world revolution was still alive. The constitution,

formally adopted in 1924, pronounced the founding of the U.S.S.R. to be “a decisive

step by way of uniting the workers of all countries into one World Soviet Socialist

Republic.” It made the Union, in principle, fl uid and expansible, declared that any mem-

ber republic might secede and that newly formed soviet socialist republics might join

(none ever did voluntarily). When the U.S.S.R. occupied contiguous territories (once

part of the tsarist empire) after the outbreak of the Second World War, these territories

were also transformed into Soviet Socialist republics—the three independent Baltic

states, Estonia, Latvia, and Lithuania; Bessarabia, detached from Romania; and Karelia,

taken from Finland after the Russo-Finnish War. Bessarabia became the Moldavian

S.S.R., and Karelia temporarily, from 1940 to 1956, had the status of a Karelo-Finnish

S.S.R., a 16th Soviet Socialist republic.

A new regime

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75990. The Union of Soviet Socialist Republics

The federal principle in the U.S.S.R. was designed to resolve the prob-

lem of nationalism. The tsardom, in its last decades, had tried to deal with

this problem by systematic Russifi cation. The nationalities had resisted,

and nationalist discontent had been one of the forces fatally weakening

the empire. Nationalism, the demand that national groups should have

their own political sovereignty, had not only broken up the Austro-Hungarian empire but

“Balkanized” central and eastern Europe. This might have happened after 1917 in Russia

except for the fact that the Red Army during the civil wars occupied large parts of the tsar-

ist empire that had broken away and declared their independence. As it turned out, by 1922

the U.S.S.R. occupied a sixth of the world’s land area.

A hundred languages were spoken in the Soviet Union, and 50 distinct nationalities

were recognized within its borders. Many of these were small splinter groups or isolated

communities left by the ebb and fl ow of humanity in inner Asia over thousands of years.

All recognized nationalities received a cultural autonomy, or the right to use their own

language, have their own schools, wear their own dress, and follow their own folkways

without interference.

An answer to the

problem of

nationalism

A good example of early “socialist realism” in Soviet art, this Soviet political poster from 1918 celebrates “One Year of Proletarian Dictator- ship” and portrays the early achievements of the revolution. A worker and a peasant stand on the symbols and chains of the old regime. The happy people in the background are celebrating their triumph and moving confi dently toward a prosperous, industrialized future. (Sovfoto)

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Chapter 18 The Russian Revolution and the Emergence of the Soviet Union760

Administratively the nationalities were put on various levels, with

varying degrees of separate identity according to their size and importance.

The most important were the soviet republics themselves, but in practice

the Russian S.F.S.R., with over half the population and three-fourths of the territory of

the Union, predominated over all the others. When to the Russian were added the Ukrainian

and the Byelorussian republics, the overwhelmingly Russian and Slavic character of the

Union was marked. Moreover all political and economic rights were severely limited by

the concentration of authority in the hands of the central government. There was little sub-

stance in the formal claim that each constituent republic was sovereign and had the right

to conduct its own foreign affairs. During the Second World War there was evidence that

separatism had not wholly died down, remaining especially alive in Ukraine, and sev-

eral autonomous areas were offi cially dissolved for separatist activities or even for collu-

sion with the German invaders. By the late 1980s it became increasingly apparent that the

Soviets could not prevent the disintegration of the multinational empire that they had

inherited from the tsars.

Government: State and Party

Government in the Union, and in each component republic, followed a pattern worked out

during the revolution and written into the constitutions of 1924 and 1936. In theory, a prin-

ciple of parallelism was adopted. On the one hand was the state: on the other, paralleling

the state but technically not part of it, was the party. But the close interlocking relationship

between the two made the parallelism virtually meaningless because the party actually

controlled all of the state institutions.

The distinctive state institution was the council or soviet. Here elec-

tions took place, and authority proceeded from the bottom upward to the

top through an ascending hierarchy of local, provincial, and national

Soviets. Under the constitution of 1924 only “toilers” had the right to vote.

In the later constitution of 1936 a more direct democratic procedure was introduced. Voters

henceforth directly elected members of the higher soviets, a secret ballot was adopted, no

class was any longer denied the vote, and a bicameral parliament was created. On the state

side, as set forth in the constitution of 1936, the government embodied many seemingly

democratic features.

Yet alongside the state, at all levels and in all localities, was the party. Only one party

was allowed, the Communist, though nonparty members might be elected to the Soviets

or to other offi cial positions. In the party, authority began at the top and

proceeded downward. At its apex stood the Central Committee, whose

membership varied from about 70 in the 1930s to more than double that in

later years. Within the Central Committee a powerful Politburo, or polit-

ical bureau, of about a dozen members dominated discussions of policy

and personnel. An even more powerful general secretary, the offi ce that

Stalin virtually fashioned, dominated the entire structure and apparatus with authority over

appointments, assignments, and decisions at all levels. Thus power and authority in the

Communist Party fl owed downward and outward, as in an army, or as in a highly central-

ized government agency or large private modern corporation, except that the party was not

subject to any outside control. Discipline was likewise enforced in ways not used in liberal

countries, the fearsome machinery of the secret police being available for use against party

members as well as those outside.

Elections

The Central

Committee of the

party

The Soviet republics

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761

The number of party members, men and women, w hich could not have been more

than 70,000 at the time of the revolution, rose to about 2 million by 1930, 3 million by

1940, and to 19 million in the late 1980s. The Leninist ideal of a highly disciplined party,

made up of faithful and zealous workers who willingly carried out orders,

continued to characterize the Communist Party in the Soviet Union. A party

of 2 million members, though small in contrast to the population of the

U.S.S.R., still represented an enormous growth for the party itself; for each

old member who had joined before 1917 there were thousands of new ones.

To preserve party unity under the new conditions strict uniformity was enforced. The base

of the party structure consisted of small nuclei or cells. In each factory, in each mine, in

each offi ce, in each class at the universities and technical schools, in each labor union, in

each of the larger villages, a few people belonged to the party and imparted party views

and party momentum to the whole social group.

The party in the U.S.S.R. by the 1930s functioned as a tightly knit,

highly disciplined leadership group. Those who joined it were willing to

work hard, devote themselves to party matters day and night, absorb and

communicate the party policy (or “party line”), go where they were sent,

attend meetings, speak up, perceive and explain the signifi cance of passing events for the

Soviet Union or the world revolution, and master intricate technical details of farming,

manufacturing, or the care of machinery. The party was a specially trained elite whose

members were present at all levels of government and in constant touch with each other.

If the party was a leadership group, the corollary was that more than 95 out of

100 persons were condemned to be followers, and while it is perhaps true (as apolo-

gists for the system maintained) that under any system true leadership is exercised by a

tiny fraction of people, the difference between Communist and non-Communist in the

U.S.S.R. became a clear matter of social status. As the years passed, many Communists

in the U.S.S.R. were less the revolutionary fi rebrand type than the successful and well-

rewarded man or woman in any social system. They represented the satisfi ed, not the

dissatisfi ed. They enjoyed extensive material privileges, not only for themselves but

also for their children. They became a new vested interest. Within the party, members

had to be not so much leaders as followers. A homogeneous and monolithic organiza-

tion had to present a solid front to the far more numerous outsiders. From time to time

a good deal of difference of opinion and open discussion was tolerated within the party,

but in the end the entire membership had to conform. The party favored a certain fertil-

ity of mind in looking for ways to get tasks accomplished, but it did not favor, and in

fact repressed, originality, boldness, risk-taking, or freedom of thought or action. The

dangers of stagnation in such a one-party system became apparent within the Soviet

Union itself in later times.

The New Economic Policy, 1921–1927

By 1920 “war communism” had hopelessly antagonized the peasants, who were cultivating

less than two-thirds as much land as in 1914. This fact, together with a severe drought and

the breakdown of transportation, produced a great famine. Millions of people died. The

ravages of eight years—of the First World War, the revolution, the civil wars, the Terror,

the famine—had left the country in ruins, its productive facilities thrown back by decades

as compared with 1914. Lenin concluded that socialization had advanced too fast. He

openly advocated a compromise with capitalism, a strategic retreat. The New Economic

Growth and nature of

the party

The party’s leadership

role

90. The Union of Soviet Socialist Republics

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Chapter 18 The Russian Revolution and the Emergence of the Soviet Union762

Areas Annexed in 1940

0 200 300 400100 500 miles

S I B E

A LTAI M

OUNTAINS

KUZNETSK BASIN

SINKIANG

T U

R K

E S

T A

N

U R

A L

M O

U N

T A

I N S

Severnaya Zemlya

Franz Josef Land

Spitzbergen (Norway)

Novaya Zemlya

A R C T I C O C E A

North Cape B a r e n t s S e a

K a r a S e aB a l t i c S e a

N o r t h S e a

A T L A N T I C O C E A N

D vin

a R

.

O

b

R.

Y en

isei R .

L. Balkhash

Aral Sea

C a

sp ia

n S

e a

V o

lg a

R .

Black Se

a

M editerranean

Sea

R e d

Se a

P e

rsia n

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lf

SWEDEN

FINLAND

KA RE

LIA ESTONIAN S.S.R

N O R WAY

POLAND

LITHUANIAN S.S.R.

ROMANIA

MOLDAVIAN S.S.R.

UKRAINIAN S.S.R.

BYELO- RUSSIAN S.S.R.

LATVIAN S.S.R.

R U S S I A N S O V I E T F E D E R A T E D S O C I A L

MONGOL

C H I

TANNU T UVA

1944

KIRGIZ S.S.R.

TADJIK S.S.R.

UZBEK S.S.R.

KAZAK S.S.R.

TURKMEN S.S.R.

AZERBAIJAN S.S.R.

IRAN

AFGHANISTAN

GEORGIAN S.S.R.

ARMENIAN S.S.R.

TURKEY

SYRIA

IRAQ

SAUDI ARABIA

Kha

Igarka

Kara

Salekhard

Samaroyo

Tobolsk Sverdlovsk

Archangel

Kirov

Kazan

Moscow

Gorki

Kuibyshev

Viborg Leningrad

(St. Petersburg, 1990)

Minsk

Berlin

Kiev

Odessa

Istanbul

Ankara

Batum

Baku

Astrakhan

Teheran Ashkhabad Tashkent Alma Ata

Omsk

Semipalantinsk

Novosibirsk

Tomsk Yeneseisk

Novokuznetsk

Murmansk

Warsaw

Perm

Magnitogorsk Volgograd

Sevastopol Rostov

Policy, or NEP, adopted in 1921, lasted until 1927. Most of the decade of the 1920s saw a

relaxation of tempo (and of terror) for most people in the U.S.S.R.

Under the NEP, while the state controlled the “commanding heights”

of the economy, maintaining state ownership of the basic productive indus-

tries, it allowed a great deal of private trading for private profi t. The basic

problem was to restore trade between town and country. The peasants

Private enterprise

under the NEP

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763

THE UNION OF SOVIET SOCIALIST REPUBLICS, 1922–1991 The U.S.S.R. was over 5,000 miles long and covered one-sixth of the land area of the globe. It was the only state that immedi- ately adjoined so many impor- tant political areas—Europe in the west, the Middle East in the south, China along a long fron- tier, Japan across a narrow sea, and the United States on the coast near Alaska. The Union had 15 member republics (for a short time 16), of which the Russian was by far the largest. Most of it lay farther north than the Great Lakes of North America, but around Tashkent, in the latitude of New York and Chicago, cotton and citrus fruits were grown by irrigation. The diversion of riv- ers for this purpose led to envi- ronmental disasters such as the spread of deserts and the gradual drying up of the Aral Sea.

R I A K

A M

C H

A TK

A

Wrangel I.

Novosibirsk I.

Sakhalin

K U

R IL

E IS

. (f

ro m

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a n

1 9

4 5

)

B e r i n g S t r a i t

B e r i n g S e a

K o

lym a

R .

A N

L

ena R.

S e a o f O k h o t s k

P A C I F I C O C E A N

Am ur R.

Sea of Japan

Yellow Sea

ALASKA

I S T R E P U B L I C

MANCHURIA

JAPAN

NORTH KOREA

SOUTH KOREA

LIAN REPUBLIC

N A

Okhotsk

Khabarovsk

Sovetskaya Gavan

Nikolaevsk

Petropavlovsk

Anadyr

atanga

Chita Irkutsk

Ulan Bator

Kirensk Tygda

Birobijan

Harbin Vladivostok

Mukden

Peking Lü-Ta (Darien Port Arthur)

Vitim

Yakutsk

Verkhoyansk

would produce only for their own subsistence unless they could exchange a surplus for

city-made wares such as clothing or tools. The city people had to be fed from the country if

they were to turn out factory products or even continue to live in the city. Under the NEP,

peasants were allowed to sell their farm products freely. Middlemen were allowed to buy

and sell farm products and manufactured articles at will, selling to whom they pleased at

market prices and at a profi t to themselves. The NEP thus fostered a new commercial class

90. The Union of Soviet Socialist Republics

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Chapter 18 The Russian Revolution and the Emergence of the Soviet Union764

in the cities and favored the big individualist farmer or kulak in the countryside. Indeed,

rural changes initiated before 1914 were still at work; peasant families consolidated mil-

lions of acres as private property in 1922, 1923, and 1924. Correspondingly, other peasants

became “proletarians,” wage-earning hired hands. Under the NEP the worst damages of

war and revolution were repaired. But there was no real progress, for in 1928 Russia was

producing only about as much grain, raw cotton, cattle, coal, and oil as in 1913, and far

less than it presumably would have produced (given the rate of growth before 1913) had

there been no revolution.

Social and Cultural Changes after the Revolution

Most Bolsheviks wanted their revolution to accomplish much more than the reconstruction

of the state and economy; they wanted to revolutionize the daily lives of the workers, peas-

ants, and “toilers,” whom they now expected to construct a new classless society. The new

Soviet society was supposed to destroy traditional gender hierarchies as well as the hierar-

chies of class and wealth. Under the legal reforms of the revolutionary regime, women

received equal voting rights, the right to divorce, and access to birth control

and abortion—which was legalized in 1920. The new theoretical rights,

however, did not have much immediate effect on the social or economic

lives of most women in the Soviet Union. Some of the new rights soon lost

signifi cance (for example, the right to vote) or disappeared (for example, abortion became

illegal again in the 1930s and 1940s), and traditional social relations among the rural

masses could not simply be transformed by revolutionary decrees. But it is also true that

many girls and young women, like the boys and young men from the working classes,

began to receive more education, especially after the turmoil of the Civil War subsided in

the early 1920s.

The campaign to improve prerevolutionary literacy rates was only one example of

the early Bolshevik aspirations for radical cultural changes. Writers and artists rallied to

the revolutionary cause, seeing the social upheaval as part of a wider rejection of tradi-

tional ideas and artistic forms. The creative fi lm director, Sergei Eisenstein, joined with

avant-garde theatrical groups to create imaginative new techniques for editing fi lms, por-

traying dramatic action, and representing political themes. Using his new

techniques, Eisenstein produced a famous fi lm about the Russian Revo-

lution of 1905, Potemkin (1925), which was commissioned by the Soviet government and which is still regarded by many critics as one of the most

innovative fi lms in the history of cinema. Meanwhile, some radical artists

sought to combine “futurist” art with the socialist revolution, and the young Russian poet

Vladimir Mayakovsky moved on from a famous “Ode to Revolution” to innovative experi-

ments with a new poetic language. In the end, though, Mayakovsky fell into despair and

committed suicide as Soviet society entered the Stalinist era of rigid social control. By

the late 1920s the period of experimental art was over, and the new cultural orthodoxy of

“socialist realism” was celebrating the beauty of large factories and tractors rather than the

abstract mysteries of the artistic avant-garde. Like all other spheres of Soviet life, art fell

under the strict control of the Communist Party and government institutions.

Stalin and Trotsky

Lenin died in 1924 prematurely at the age of 54 after a series of paralyzing strokes that left

him incapacitated in the last two years of his life. His embalmed remains were put

Women’s rights

Art, literature, and

fi lm

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76591. Stalin: The Five-Year Plans and the Purges

permanently on view in the Kremlin; Petrograd was renamed Leningrad; a leader cult was

built up around his name and image. The party presented him as a deifi ed equal of Marx

himself, and it became necessary for all Communists in the Soviet Union to claim unfl inch-

ing fi delity to the Leninist tradition. Actually, in his own lifetime, the Old Bolsheviks had

never regarded Lenin as infallible. They had often differed with him and with each other.

As he lay dying, and after his death, his old companions and contemporaries, carrying on

the feuding habits of the émigré days, fought with each other for control of the party in

Lenin’s name. They disputed over Lenin’s intentions, but behind the scenes, the general

secretary of the party, Joseph Stalin, whom Lenin had warned against, was drawing all the

strings of party control into his own hands. More openly and vociferously, Leon Trotsky,

who as war commissar in the critical years had been only less conspicuous than Lenin

himself, raised the basic issues of the whole nature and future of the movement.

Trotsky, in 1925 and 1926, inveighed against the lassitude that had descended upon

socialism. 2 He developed his doctrine of “permanent revolution,” an incessant drive for

proletarian objectives on all fronts in all parts of the world. He champi-

oned world revolution, which many in the party were beginning to discard

in favor of fi rst building socialism in one country. He denounced the ten-

dency to bureaucratic ossifi cation in the party and urged a new movement

of the masses to give it life. He called for more forceful development of industry and for

the collectivization of agriculture, which had fi gured in Communist manifestos ever since

1848. Above all, he demanded immediate adoption of an overall plan, a central control and

operation of the whole economic life of the country.

Trotsky failed to carry the party with him. He was charged with leftist deviationism,

machinations against the Central Committee, and inciting public discussion of contro-

versial issues outside the party. At a party congress in 1927, 95 percent of the delegates

dutifully voted for Stalin and the Central Committee and fewer than 5 percent voted for

Trotsky. Trotsky was fi rst exiled to Siberia, then banished from the U.S.S.R.; he lived in

Europe and then in Mexico, writing and propagandizing for the permanent revolution,

stigmatizing developments in the U.S.S.R. as a monstrous betrayal of Marxism-Leninism,

and organizing an underground against Stalin as he had done in former days against the

tsar. He was murdered in Mexico in 1940 by a Soviet agent. Not until the late 1980s was

anyone in the U.S.S.R. permitted to talk or write about him and his contributions to the

revolution.

91. STALIN: THE FIVE-YEAR PLANS AND THE PURGES

Economic Planning

Hardly had Trotsky been expelled when Stalin and the party appropriated certain frag-

ments of his program. In 1928 the party launched the First Five-Year Plan, aimed at rapid

industrialization and the collectivization of agriculture. “Planning,” or the central planning

of a country’s whole economic life by government offi cials, was to become the distinctive

feature of Soviet economics and the one that for a time was to have the greatest infl uence

on other parts of the world.

Permanent revolution

2 For Communists, though not for socialists, the terms “communism” and “socialism” were almost interchange-

able, because Russian Communists regarded their own system as true socialism and all other socialism as oppor-

tunistic, reactionary, or false. Communism was also defi ned, in the U.S.S.R., as a future state of society toward

which socialism, that is, Soviet socialism, was the intermediate stage.

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Chapter 18 The Russian Revolution and the Emergence of the Soviet Union766

In retrospect, it seems strange that the C ommunists waited ten years before adopting

a plan. The truth seems to be that the Bolsheviks had only vague ideas of what to do after

their seizure of power. Marxism for the most part gave only general descriptions of a

future classless society. The main constructive idea had been mapped out, most clearly by

Engels. Within each private enterprise, Engels had observed, harmony and order reigned; it was only between private enterprises that capitalism was chaotic. In the individual fac- tory, he noted, the various departments did not compete with each other; the output of all

departments was planned and coordinated by management. In an approximate way, the

great capitalist mergers and trusts, controlling many factories, prevented competition

between them, assigned specifi c quotas to each, anticipated, coordinated, and stabilized

the work of each plant and each person by an overall policy. The obvious

next step, according to Engels and other socialists, was to treat all the eco- nomic life of a country as a single factory with many departments, a single

enormous monopoly with many members under one unifi ed, far-seeing

management.

During the First World War the governments of belligerent countries had in fact

adopted such centralized controls, not because they were socialist but because in time of

war people were willing to subordinate their usual liberties to a single undisputed social

purpose—victory. The “planned society” therefore made its fi rst actual

(though incomplete) appearance in the First World War. It was partly from

socialist doctrine as exemplifi ed by Engels, partly from experience of the

war, and in even larger measure from the pressure to meet the continuing

chronic problems of the country by raising its productive level that Stalin

and the party in Russia developed the idea of an economic plan.

The U.S.S.R. decided to plan for fi ve years into the future, beginning with the First

Five-Year Plan in 1928. The aim of the plan was to strengthen and enrich the country,

make it militarily and industrially self-suffi cient, lay the groundwork for a true workers’

society, and overcome the Russian reputation for backwardness. As Stalin said in a speech

in 1929: “We are becoming a country of metal, a country of automobiles, a country of trac-

tors. And when we have put the U.S.S.R. in a motor car and the muzhik in a tractor. . . . we shall see which countries may then be ‘classifi ed’ as backward and which as advanced.”

The Plan was declared fulfi lled in 1932, and a Second Five-Year Plan was launched, last-

ing until 1937. The Third, inaugurated in 1938, was interrupted by the war with Germany

in 1941. New plans were introduced after 1945.

The First Five-Year Plan (like its successors) listed the economic goals

to be achieved. It was administered by an agency called the Gosplan. Within

the frame of general policy set by the party, the Gosplan determined how

much of every article the country should produce, what wages all classes of

workers should receive, and at what prices all goods should be exchanged. Because all

decisions were made at the top, it was as much a command economy as a planned econ-

omy. The plan, in short, undertook to control, by conscious centralized state management,

the fl ow of resources and workforce that was regulated in capitalist economies by shifts in

demand and supply and through changes in prices, wage levels, profi ts, and interest rates.

The system was exceedingly intricate. Countless reports, checkups, and exchanges of

information were necessary. A huge class of bureaucrats came into existence to handle the

paperwork. The plan achieved some of its goals, exceeded a few, and failed in some. The

criteria for fulfi llment were almost always quantitative, often to the complete neglect of

quality control.

Engels’ centralized

economy

Wartime conditions

and economic

planning

The First Five-Year

Plan

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767

The primary objective of the First Five-Year Plan was to build up the

heavy industry, or capital wealth, of the U.S.S.R. The aim was to industri-

alize without the use of foreign loans. 3 Russia in 1928 was still chiefl y an

agricultural country. The world offered hardly any case of a country shift-

ing from agriculture to industry without borrowing capital from abroad. Britain, the origi-

nal home of the Industrial Revolution, was the best example, although even there in the

eighteenth century a great deal of capital invested in England was owned by the Dutch.

An agricultural country could industrialize from its own resources only by drawing upon

agriculture itself. An agricultural revolution had been prerequisite to an industrial revolu-

tion in England. By enclosure of land, the squeezing out of small independent farmers, the

introduction of scientifi c cultivation, and under the auspices of a growing class of wealthy

landowners, England had both increased its production of food and released many of the

rural population to fi nd employment in industry. The First Five-Year Plan called for a simi-

lar agricultural revolution in Russia, without benefi t to landlords and under the auspices of

the state, but no one could foresee all of its social and economic consequences.

The Collectivization of Agriculture

The agricultural plan of 1929 set up collective farms, averaging a few thousand acres

apiece, which were considered to be the property not of the state but of the peasants col-

lectively who resided on them. (A few state-operated collective farms were also estab-

lished, as models for the others.) Individual peasants were to pool their privately owned

fi elds and livestock in these collectives. When those peasants who possessed fi elds or

stock in considerable amount—the prosperous peasants or kulaks—resisted surrendering

them to the new collectives, they were ruthlessly liquidated as a class. Zealous detach-

ments of Communists from the cities used violence; poor peasants turned upon rich ones;

hundreds of thousands of kulaks and their families were killed and many more were trans-

ported to labor camps in remote parts of the Soviet Union. Collectivization was intended

to convert the peasantry into a class more nearly resembling the proletariat of Marxian

doctrine, a class of people who as individuals owned no capital and employed no labor,

and so would better fi t into a proletarian, socialist state. The year 1929, not 1917, was the

memorable revolutionary year for most people in Russia.

Collectivization was accomplished at the cost of village class war in

which many of the most capable farmers perished and at the cost also of

a wholesale destruction of livestock. The big farmers slaughtered their

horses, cattle, pigs, and poultry rather than give them up. Even middling

and small farmers did the same, caring nothing about animals that were no

longer their own. The ruinous loss of animals was the worst unforeseen food calamity of

the First Five-Year Plan. The agricultural disorders led to a deadly famine in southeast

Russia and Ukraine in 1932 that cost millions of lives. Despite the famine Stalin refused to

cut back on cereal and other food exports because they were needed to pay for industrial

imports under the Five-Year Plan.

The human costs of

collectivization

Building capital

wealth

3 The Bolsheviks had repudiated the entire debt of the tsarist empire. Their credit in capitalist countries was there-

fore not good, so that, in addition to fearing dependence upon foreign lenders, they were in any case for a long

time unable to borrow large sums.

91. Stalin: The Five-Year Plans and the Purges

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Chapter 18 The Russian Revolution and the Emergence of the Soviet Union768

By introducing thousand-acre units in place of small ones, c ollectivization made it

possible to apply capital to the soil. Formerly most peasants had been far too poor to buy a

tractor and the fi elds had in any case been too small to use one; only a few kulaks had

employed any such machinery. In the course of the First Five-Year Plan hundreds

of Machine Tractor Stations were organized throughout the country. Each

Station maintained a force of tractors, harvesting combines, and expert

agronomists, which could be dispatched from one collective farm to another

by local arrangement. The new collectivized system made it easier for

higher authorities to control the agricultural surplus (products not con-

sumed by the village itself). Each collective was assigned a quota. Members of the collec-

tive could sell in a free market any products they raised beyond this quota. Meanwhile the

government knew the quantity of agricultural produce it could count on, either to feed the

cities and other regions that did not produce their own food or for export in the world mar-

ket to pay for imports of machinery from the West. By 1939 all but a negligible fraction of

Mechanization of

agriculture

The creation of collective farms during Stalin’s First Five-Year Plan was one of the most radi- cal and most resented economic actions of the new Communist regime. Millions of farm ani- mals were destroyed by angry peasants and millions of people died in the subsequent period of repression and famine. But the creation of large-scale agriculture and tractor stations gradu- ally made it possible for farmers to use new machinery in Russian fi elds. These farmers were heading for work on new tractors in the early 1930s. (Sovfoto)

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769

the peasantry was collectivized, but collectivization failed to increase agricultural output.

The new collectives denied peasants the freedom to make their own economic decisions,

destroyed their incentive to improve the land they worked, and prevented them from

passing land on to their heirs. Agriculture therefore remained a troubled sector of the econ-

omy. Collectivization made possible, however, the success of industrialization by aug-

menting the supply of industrial workers. Because the villages needed less labor, 20 million

people moved from country to city between the years 1926 and 1939 and were available

for jobs in the new industries.

The Growth of Industry

While the agricultural base was being revolutionized, industrialization went rapidly for-

ward. At fi rst there was considerable dependence on the capitalist countries. Engineers and

other technicians from western Europe and the United States went to work in the Soviet

Union. Much machinery was imported. But the worldwide depression that set in about

1931, bringing a catastrophic fall of agricultural prices, made foreign-made machines

more costly in terms of the cereals that were the chief Soviet export. The international situ-

ation also deteriorated. While the U.S.S.R. always considered the whole outside world

hostile to it, both Japan and Germany in the 1930s showed overt hostility and posed a new

military threat. The Second Five-Year Plan, launched in 1933, though in some ways less

ambitious than the fi rst, showed an even greater determination to cut down imports and

achieve national self-suffi ciency, especially in the heavy industry basic to war production.

No ten years in the history of any industrializing country had ever

shown such a rate of industrial growth as the decade of the fi rst two plans in

the Soviet Union. In Great Britain industrialization had been gradual; in

Germany and the United States it had been more rapid, and in each country

there had been decades in which output of coal or iron doubled; but in the

U.S.S.R., from 1928 to 1938, production of iron and steel expanded four times and that of

coal expanded three and a half times. In 1938 the U.S.S.R. was the world’s largest pro-

ducer of farm tractors and railway locomotives. Four-fi fths of all its industrial output came

from plants built in the preceding ten years. In 1939 the U.S.S.R., as measured by purely

quantitative standards, was surpassed in gross industrial output only by the United States

and Germany.

These astounding developments were enough to change the relative

economic strength of the world’s peoples with respect to one another. It

was signifi cant that the fi ve-year plans brought industrialization to cen-

tral Asia and even to the most distant places in Siberia. In part because of

these developments in Asia, the Russia that went to war with Germany in 1941 proved

to be a different antagonist from the Russia of 1914. Industrialization in the Urals and in

Asia enabled the U.S.S.R. (with Allied assistance) to survive the German occupation and

destruction of the older industrial areas in the Don valley. The new “socialist fatherland”

was able to absorb terrible losses and strike back, because a great deal of the increased

industrial output helped to equip and modernize the Red Army.

At the same time, the degree of industrialization of the U.S.S.R. can easily be exag-

gerated. It was phenomenal because it started from so little. Qualitatively, by European

criteria, standards of production were low. Many of the hastily constructed new plants

were shoddy and suffered from rapid depreciation. In effi ciency, as shown by output per

worker employed, the U.S.S.R. continued to lag behind other industrialized countries. In

intensity of modernization, as shown by output of certain items in proportion to the whole

Rates of industrial

growth

Changes brought by

modernization

91. Stalin: The Five-Year Plans and the Purges

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Chapter 18 The Russian Revolution and the Emergence of the Soviet Union770

population, it also lagged. Per capita comparisons with other industrial nations, in 1937,

show that the U.S.S.R. produced less coal, electricity, cottons, woolens, leather shoes, or

soap than did the United States, Britain, Germany, France, or Japan, and less iron and steel

than any of them except Japan. Production of paper is revealing because paper is used in so

many different aspects of modern education, economic activity, communications, govern-

ment affairs, and household life. Where the United States about 1937 produced 103 pounds

of paper per person, Germany and Great Britain each produced 92, France produced 51,

and Japan produced 17, the U.S.S.R. produced only 11.

Social Costs and Social Effects of the Plans

Industrialization in Russia demanded huge and continuing sacrifi ces on

the part of the people. It was not merely that kulaks lost their lives, or that

millions of others, whose exact numbers have never been known, were

Sacrifi ces and

rewards

CHRONOLOGY OF NOTABLE EVENTS, 1894–1937

1894 Creation of Russian Marxist organization, the Social Democratic Party

1903 Social Democrats split into two factions, Bolsheviks and Mensheviks;

Lenin leads Bolsheviks

January 1905 Economic hardship, “Bloody Sunday,” and Russo-Japanese War spark

Revolution of 1905 in St. Petersburg

October 1905 Tsar’s October Manifesto establishes new parliamentary body, the Duma

1906–1911 Stolypin’s reforms promote growth of prosperous farmers (kulaks)

1914 Russia enters war with Germany and suffers crushing military defeats

March 1917 Tsar Nicholas II abdicates; Russia becomes a republic under provisional

government and continues war with Germany

April 1917 Germany provides safe passage for Bolshevik leaders to enter Russia

November 1917 The Bolshevik Revolution: Lenin and followers overthrow the provisional

government in Petrograd

January 1918 Bolsheviks dissolve Constituent Assembly and establish the Red Army

1918–1922 Bolsheviks consolidate power and suppress all opponents in Civil War

and Red Terror

1919–1920 Creation of Third, or Communist, International (the Comintern)

1921–1927 New Economic Policy allows more independent commercial activity

1922 Establishment of the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics (U.S.S.R)

1925–1927 Stalin prevails over Trotsky to take control of the Bolshevik Central

Committee

1928 Stalin launches the First Five-Year Plan for economic development

1929 Soviet regime begins the collectivization of agriculture; resistance from

kulaks and others leads to widespread repression and famine

1936–1937 Public “purge trials” remove Old Bolsheviks from Communist Party;

many are executed or imprisoned

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771

found to be enemies of the system and sent off to correctional labor camps. All were

required to accept a program of austerity and self-denial, going without the better food,

housing, and other consumer goods that might have been produced, in order that the capi-

tal wealth and heavy industry of the country might be built up. The plan required hard

work and low wages. Morale was sustained by propaganda. One of the chief functions of

party members was to explain why sacrifi ces were necessary. In the late 1930s life began

to ease; food rationing was abolished in 1935, and a few more products of light industry,

such as dishes and fountain pens, began to appear in Soviet retail stores. Living standards

rose back to the level of 1927 with prospects brighter for raising them. But the need for

war preparations, as the world again approached chaos, again drove back the vision of

the Promised Land.

Socialism, as realized in the plans, did away with some of the evils of unrestrained

free enterprise. There was no acknowledged unemployment or cycle of boom and depres-

sion. There was less misuse of women and children than in the early days of European

industrialization. There was a minimum below which no one was supposed to fall. On the

other hand, there was no economic equality. Marxism, indeed, had never seen complete

equality of income as a principal objective. While there were no very rich people, as in

other parts of Europe (where the income of the very rich often came from inherited prop-

erty), the differences in income were nevertheless great. High government offi cials, man-

agers, engineers, and favored artists and intellectuals received the highest rewards. People

with large incomes could build precarious little fortunes for themselves and their children.

They could not, however, under socialism, own any industrial capital, that is, buy shares of

stock or other equities. There was, of course, no stock exchange.

Competition of a special kind developed. In 1935 a miner named Sta-

khanov greatly increased his daily output of coal by devising improvements

in his methods of work. He also greatly increased his wages, because Soviet

workers were paid at piece rates. His example proved contagious; workers all over the

country began to break records of all kinds. The government publicized their achievements,

called them Stakhanovites and “labor heroes,” and pronounced the movement to be “a new

and higher stage of socialist competition.” In labor circles in the United States such strain-

ing to increase output was called a speed-up, and piecework wages had long been anathema

to the organized labor of all countries. Nor was management free from competitive pres-

sure. A factory manager who failed to show the net income (or “profi t”) upon which the

plan counted, or who failed to meet his quota of output, might lose not only his job but also

his social status—or even his life.

Solidarity was purchased at the price of totalitarianism. The govern-

ment supervised everything. There was no room for skepticism, indepen-

dence of thought, or any criticism that weakened the will to achieve. As in

tsarist times, no one could leave the country without special permission,

which was given far more rarely than before 1914. There was, of course, only one politi-

cal party. There were no free labor unions, no free press, no freedom of association, and at

best only an irritable tolerance for religion. Soviet Jews who adapted to the system found

themselves in a more favorable position than ever before; some even attained positions

of high importance. Many still faced lingering suspicion and distrust, however, and in

religious matters they met harassment. Art, literature, and even science became vehicles

of political propaganda; creative, experimental works—and the people who promoted

them—disappeared from Soviet cultural life. Conformity was the ideal, and the very pas-

sion for solidarity made for fear and suspicion of all who might go astray. As for the num-

ber of people sacrifi ced to Stalin’s brutal Juggernaut—liquidated bourgeois, liquidated

Competition

The price of

solidarity

91. Stalin: The Five-Year Plans and the Purges

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Chapter 18 The Russian Revolution and the Emergence of the Soviet Union772

peasants, purged party members, disaffected persons sentenced to long terms in labor

camps—a precise fi gure is diffi cult to arrive at, but it certainly reached many millions over

the years in which the various Soviet plans were implemented.

The Purge Trials of the 1930s

In 1936 socialism was judged to have proved so successful that a new constitution for the

U.S.S.R. was proclaimed. It enumerated, as rights of Soviet citizens, not merely the usual

civil liberties of modern democracies but the rights to steady employment, rest, leisure,

economic security, and a comfortable old age. All forms of racism were condemned. It

reorganized the Soviet republics and granted equal and direct universal suffrage. The con-

stitution of 1936 received favorable comment in western Europe, where it was hoped that

the Russian Revolution, like former revolutions, had at last turned into more peaceable and

quiet channels. It was nonetheless apparent that the Communist Party remained the sole

governing group in the country, that Stalin was tightening his dictatorship, and that the

party was racked by internal troubles.

Throughout the 1930s Stalin acted preemptorily to suppress all dissent.

As early as 1933, the party underwent a drastic purge, in which a third of its

members were expelled. Even the faithful were appalled at Stalin’s growing Stalinist repression

The rapid industrialization of the Soviet Union emphasized heavy machinery rather than consumer goods, but the Sovi- ets also began to produce their own cars. This automobile fac- tory in the city of Gorky (a city renamed by the Soviets for the Russian writer) represented the new industrial economy and also expressed the requisite political loyalty to Stalin. (Sovfoto)

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773

ruthlessness. Serge Kirov, an old friend and revolutionary companion of Stalin since 1909,

head of the Leningrad party apparatus, and member of the Politburo since 1930, showed

signs of leading the disaffected. In 1934 he was assassinated in his offi ce, it is now thought

by a police agent of Stalin’s. The assassination gave Stalin an excuse to strike out at his

opponents, imagined or real, by a revival of terror, immediately executing over a hundred

persons and launching extraordinary purges that continued during the next four years.

A series of sensational trials took place. In 1936, 16 Old Bolsheviks

were brought to trial. Some, like Zinoviev and Kamenev, had been expelled

from the party in 1927 for supporting Trotsky and subsequently, after the

proper recantations, had been readmitted. Now they were charged with

the murder of Kirov, with plotting the murder of Stalin, and with having

organized in 1932 under Trotsky’s inspiration a secret group to disrupt and terrorize the

Central Committee. To the amazement of the outside world, all the accused made full

confession to the charges in open court. All blamed themselves as unworthy and erring

Trials of the Old

Bolsheviks

Soviet propaganda depicted Stalin as the benevolent national leader and as the worthy succes- sor to Lenin. This typical poster shows a thoughtful, visionary Stalin with a new hydro-electric plant in the background. The artist, Konstantin Ivanov, quoted Lenin on the poster and gave this work a straightforward political title: “To communism—along the path laid by Lenin.” (Sovfoto)

91. Stalin: The Five-Year Plans and the Purges

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Chapter 18 The Russian Revolution and the Emergence of the Soviet Union774

reprobates. All were put to death. In 1937, after similar trials, 17 other Old Bolsheviks

met the same fate or received long prison sentences; and in 1938 a group of “rightists”

were executed after they were charged with wanting to restore bourgeois capitalism. The

same confessions and self-accusations followed in almost every case, with no other verifi -

able evidence adduced. How these confessions were obtained in open court from hardened

revolutionaries apparently in full possession of their faculties and bearing no sign of physi-

cal harm mystifi ed the outside world. Only later did it become clear that psychological

torture had broken the will of those accused and that threats against their families (or

promises to spare them) had played the major part.

In addition to these public trials there were other arrests, private inquisitions, and

executions that extended from the highest levels of the party, government, and military

into intellectual and scientifi c circles and the lesser echelons of state institutions. In later

years the KGB itself disclosed that in the years 1930–1953 (the year of Stalin’s death)

3,778,334 persons had been tried and sentenced for “counterrevolutionary” activity and

crimes against the state, most of them in the Great Terror of 1934–1938, and that 786,098

were executed; unknown others died in prison camps, later to be known as the Gulag. In

later years, the innocence of many of Stalin’s victims was offi cially confi rmed and their

reputations posthumously restored.

By these purges Stalin rid himself of all possible rivals for his own

position. He disposed of the embarrassment of having colleagues about

him who could remember the old days, who could quote Lenin as a former

friend, or belittle the reality of 1937 by recalling the dreams of 1917. After

1938 there were virtually no Old Bolsheviks left. A younger group, prod-

ucts of the new order, practical, constructive, impatient of “agitators,” and acquiescing in

Stalin’s dictatorship, were operating what was now an established system.

92. THE INTERNATIONAL IMPACT OF COMMUNISM, 1919–1939

The Background: Socialism and the First World War

Marxism had always been international in its outlook. To Marx and the early Marxists

existing states (like other institutions) owed their character to the class struggle. After

Marx’s death, however, as Marxist parties grew in numbers, and as the states of western

Europe became more democratic, most people who called themselves Marxists accepted

the national state, seeing in it a means by which the workers’ lot could be gradually

improved. This view was part of the movement of revisionism, or what more rigorous

Marxists called “opportunism.” In the First World War national loyalty proved its strength.

The socialist parties in the Reichstag, the French Chamber, and other parliamentary bodies

voted for war credits without hesitation. Socialist workers reported for mobilization like

everyone else.

Small minorities of socialists in every country nevertheless broke with the national-

ist majority and refused to accept the war. These more militant socialists

denounced the action of the socialist majorities as a sellout to capitalism and

imperialism. They met in international conferences with each other and with

socialists from the neutral countries. Active among them had been Lenin

and other Russian Social Democrats then in Switzerland. “The only task

for socialists,” wrote Lenin in 1914, “is to convert the war of peoples into a civil war.” The

Reinforcing the

dictatorship

Class solidarity

vs. nationalism

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77592. The International Impact of Communism, 1919–1939

minority or antiwar socialists met at the small Swiss town of Zimmerwald in 1915, where

they drew up a “Zimmerwald program,” calling for immediate peace without annexations

or indemnities; and then the Zimmerwald group itself began to split. Most Zimmerwalders

regarded peace, or the repudiation of the war, as their aim. But a “Zimmerwald Left” began

to develop, inspired mainly by Lenin and the Russian émigrés. This faction made its aim not

peace but revolution. It hoped that the war would go on until it caused social revolution in

the belligerent countries.

Then in April 1917, as we have seen, with the German imperial government arranging

their trip, Lenin and the other Bolsheviks went back to Russia and accomplished the

November Revolution. Lenin, until his death in 1924, believed that the Russian Revolution

was only a local phase of a world revolution—of the revolution of strict Marxian doctrine. Because he expected proletarian upheaval to follow soon in Germany, Poland, the Danube

Valley, and the Baltic regions, he accepted the treaty of Brest-Litovsk. He took no pride in

Russia; he was no patriot or “social-chauvinist,” to use his own term. In the founding of

the U.S.S.R. in 1922 he saw a nucleus around which other and greater soviet republics of

any nationality might coalesce.

The First World War was in fact followed by attempted revolutions

in Germany and eastern Europe. With the German and Austro-Hungarian

empires wrecked, socialists and liberals of all descriptions strove to estab-

lish new regimes. Among socialists the old differences persisted, between

those favoring gradual, nonviolent, and parliamentary methods and a more extreme group

who saw in postwar disintegration a chance to realize the international proletarian rev-

olution. The fi rst group looked upon the Bolshevik Revolution with horror; the second

looked upon it with admiration. The fi rst group included not only trade union offi cials

and practical socialist politicians but also such prewar giants of Marxian exegesis as Karl

Kautsky and Eduard Bernstein. The mass of European socialists, with their fi ercest leaders

removed, were to remain relatively moderate. Marxist in principle, they were in fact more

than ever wedded to gradual, peaceable, and parliamentary methods. The second group,

radical Leninists, continued to agitate for the forcible overthrow of European capitalism

and European political institutions; and they began to join together in the Bolsheviks’

new organization for promoting world revolution, the Third, or Communist, International,

which was created in March 1919.

The Founding of the Third International

The Second International, which since its foundation in 1889 had met every two or three

years until 1914, held its fi rst postwar meeting at Berne in 1919. It represented socialist

parties and labor organizations of all countries. The Berne meeting was stormy, for a small

minority vehemently demanded “revolution as in Russia, socialization of property as in

Russia, application of Marxism as in Russia.” Overruled at Berne, they went to Moscow

and there founded a new International in conjunction with the Russian Communist Party,

and with Lenin and the Russians dominating it completely. It was Lenin’s hope, by found-

ing a new International of his own, to discredit moderate socialism and to claim for the

Communists the true line of succession from the First International of Karl Marx.

The fi rst congress of the Third International in 1919 was somewhat

haphazard, but at the second, in 1920, the extreme left parties of 37 coun-

tries were represented. The Russian Party was supposedly only one compo-

nent. Actually, it supplied most of the personnel and most of the funds; the

Attempted revolutions

in Europe

The Third

International

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Chapter 18 The Russian Revolution and the Emergence of the Soviet Union776

Bolshevik Zinoviev was its fi rst president, remaining in this offi ce until his disgrace as a

Trotskyist in 1927. The Third, or Communist, International—the Comintern—was in part

a spontaneous rallying of Marxists from all countries who viewed the Bolshevik Revolu-

tion as the true fruition of Marxism; but, even more, it was the creation and weapon of the

Bolsheviks themselves, by which they wished to discredit and isolate the moderate social-

ists and bring about world revolution. Of all enemies the Communists hated the socialists

most, reserving for them even stronger epithets than they bestowed upon capitalists and

imperialists, because Communists and socialists were competing for the same objective,

the leadership of the world’s working class.

The second congress of the International, in 1920, endorsed a program

of Twenty-One Points, written by Lenin. These included the requirements

that each national party must call itself Communist, repudiate “reformist”

socialism, propagandize labor unions and get Communists into the impor-

tant union offi ces, infi ltrate the army, impose an iron discipline upon mem-

bers, require submission to the orders of the international Executive, use both legal channels

and secret underground methods, and expel promptly any member not hewing to the party

line. Making no pretense of respect for parliamentary democracy, the second congress

ruled that “the only question can be that of utilizing bourgeois state institutions for their

own destruction.” The Comintern was not an assemblage of humanitarians engaged in wel-

fare work; it was a weapon for revolution, organized by revolutionaries who knew how to

seize power by revolutionary methods. In most countries, as in France, there were many

Lenin’s Twenty-One

Points

The Russian Revolution brought about a split between socialists who favored parliamentary politics and those who supported the revolutionary methods of the Bolsheviks. The latter group met in Russia to form the Third, or Communist, International. It adhered to the views of Lenin, who is speaking here to a meeting of the Third International in 1920. (Hulton-Deutsch Collection/Corbis)

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777

socialists who could not accept the Twenty-One Points. Once unifi ed socialist parties

therefore broke up. Communists and socialists went their separate ways.

For several years the U.S.S.R., using the Comintern or more conven-

tional diplomatic channels, promoted world revolution as best it could.

Communists from many countries went to Russia for indoctrination. Native-

born or Russian agents proceeded to the Dutch Indies, China, Europe, and

America. Until 1927 the Chinese revolutionists welcomed assistance from

Moscow; the Russian Borodin became an adviser in their affairs. In 1924, in England,

publication of the “Zinoviev letter,” in which the Comintern allegedly urged British work-

ers to provoke revolution, led to a great electoral victory for the Conservative Party. The

Bolshevik menace, real and imagined, produced everywhere a strong reaction. It was basic

to the rise of fascism described in the chapters to follow.

In 1927, with the suppression of Trotskyism and world revolutionism in Russia, and

with the concentration under Stalin on a program of building socialism in one country, the

Comintern moderated its activities. In 1935, as fascist dictators became noisily bellicose

and threatened the Soviet Union, the U.S.S.R. through the Comintern instructed all Com-

munist parties to enter into coalitions with socialists and activist liberals in what were

called “popular fronts” to combat fascism and reaction and support the national defense of

their own countries. During the Second World War (in 1943), as a gesture of goodwill to

Great Britain and the United States, the U.S.S.R. abolished the Comintern entirely. It reap-

peared for a few years from 1947 to 1956 under a new name, the Communist Information

Bureau or Cominform, and was then disbanded.

It was not through the Comintern that the U.S.S.R. exerted its great-

est global infl uence in the years after 1917. It exerted its infl uence by the

massive fact of its very existence, which showed that a new type of modern

economic system could emerge from a revolution. Before 1917 no one in

Europe or Asia had thought that anything was to be learned from Russia. Twenty years

later even critics of the U.S.S.R. feared that it might represent the wave of the future. Its

sheer power was soon demonstrated in the Second World War. Marxism was no longer

merely a theory; there was an actual society, embracing a sixth of the globe, which called

itself Marxist.

In every country those who were most critical of capitalist institutions compared them

unfavorably to those of the Soviet Union. Some believed that something like Soviet results

might be obtained without the use of Soviet methods, which were dismissed as typically

Russian, a deplorable heritage from the tsars. With the appearance of Communism and

Communist parties, socialism and socialist ideas seemed in contrast to be middling and

respectable. Everywhere in the 1930s the idea of planning began to fi nd favor. Workers

obtained more security against the fl uctuations of capitalism. Colonial and formerly colo-

nial peoples, especially in Asia, were particularly impressed by the achievement of the

U.S.S.R., which had shown how a traditional society could modernize without falling

under the infl uence of foreign capital or foreign guidance.

For a long time the Communist Party in the Soviet Union presented itself as the leader

of world revolution and tried to exert control over Communist parties in all other coun-

tries. This became increasingly diffi cult. Over the years the U.S.S.R. pur-

sued diplomatic and military policies and engaged in acts of aggression and

territorial expansion, such as the tsarist state might have done. By the late

1980s the U.S.S.R. was no longer an innovative society, and many people

both within the Soviet Union and in the former colonial world came to

Promoting world

revolution

The U.S.S.R.’s

impact

Waning Soviet

infl uence in later

years

92. The International Impact of Communism, 1919–1939

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Chapter 18 The Russian Revolution and the Emergence of the Soviet Union778

believe that it could not adapt to modern social realities. Its economic system was in a

shambles; the component republics demanded autonomy or independence. The revelation

from within the Soviet Union itself of the persecution and deaths of tens of millions of

innocent victims, along with the restiveness of its own nationalities, undermined its role

as leader of oppressed peoples elsewhere. European Communist parties proclaimed their

independence from Moscow. Meanwhile a new form of dynamic communism emerged

after 1949 in the People’s Republic of China. Yet all Communist parties, including the

Chinese, were derived from Marxism and from the Russian Revolution of 1917, once

hailed as the fi rst great victory over capitalism and imperialism. It was thus a revolution

that profoundly infl uenced fervent supporters throughout much of the twentieth century.

But the repressive political system, stifl ing cultural policies, brutal purges, and economic

failures of the Soviet state also produced passionate opponents and a widespread hostility

to Communism, even among many of its former advocates and supporters.

For suggested further readings and useful Web sites, interactive exercises, glossary, chronologies,

and more, go to the Online Learning Center at www.mhhe.com/palmerhistory11e.

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779

C h a p t e r 19 DEMOCRACY, ANTI-

IMPERIALISM, AND THE

ECONOMIC CRISIS AFTER

THE FIRST WORLD WAR

We have followed  events in the Soviet Union in detail to about the year 1939 but have left the story

of Europe and the rest of the world at the signing

of the peace treaties of 1919. We turn now to the

wider history of political and economic change dur-

ing the period of just 20 years that elapsed between

the formal close of the First World War in 1919

and the outbreak of the Second World War in 1939.

In these 20 years Europeans passed through vari-

ous (sometimes overlapping) cycles of optimistic

confi dence, disillusionment, hope, and fear. There

were a few years of superfi cial prosperity, abruptly

followed by unparalleled economic disaster.

For a time, in the 1920s, democracy and democratic reforms seemed to be advanc-

ing; then, in the diffi cult economic conditions of the 1930s, dictatorship began to spread

in countries that had earlier tried to move toward greater democracy. Meanwhile, during

these same decades, new political and social movements in Asia were challenging the

European empires and colonial economic systems that had long given the European powers

their dominant position in global affairs. The Great War, the Russian Revolution, and

the changing world economy all affected European relations with the peoples and cultures

of Asia, where anticolonial and nationalist campaigns attracted growing popular support.

Let us fi rst examine the apparent triumphs of democracy and the growing opposition to

European imperialism in the 1920s, turn next to the devastating worldwide effects of the

Great Depression that began in 1929, and then, in the following chapter, trace the new

confl icts and rising dangers of the 1930s.

93. THE ADVANCE OF DEMOCRACY AFTER 1919

The fi rst years following the war were a time of social troubles. The victors and losers

alike faced serious diffi culties in the economic reconversion from war to peace. Veter-

ans demobilized from the huge armies found themselves unemployed and psychologically

93. The Advance of

Democracy after 1919

94. The German Republic and

the Spirit of Locarno

95. Anti-Imperialist

Movements in Asia

96. The Great Depression:

Collapse of the World

Economy

Chapter emblem: Mahatma Gandhi leading a group of nonviolent protestors in 1930 during the political

campaign for India’s national independence. (Hulton Archive/Getty Images)

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Chapter 19 Democracy, Anti-Imperialism, and the Economic Crisis after the First World War780

restless. Farms and factories geared to maximum production during the war faced a sudden

disappearance of markets. They produced more than could now be sold, so that the war

was followed by a sharp postwar economic depression, which, however, had run its course

by 1922. Basically, the economic position even of the victors was seriously damaged, for

the war had disjointed the world of 1914, in which industrial western Europe had lived by

exchange with eastern Europe and with overseas colonies and trading partners.

Gains of Democracy and Social Democracy

The war, President Wilson had said, was fought to make the world safe for democracy.

Political democracy, to be sure, now made numerous advances. The new states that

emerged from the war all adopted liberal democratic principles such as written constitu-

tions and universal suffrage. Democracy made advances even in countries that had long

been in large measure democratic. Great Britain, for example, dropped the last barriers to

universal male suffrage in 1918. The most conspicuous innovation in many countries was

the growing enfranchisement of women. We have seen how the women’s suffrage move-

ment in Great Britain achieved an important breakthrough in 1918, when women received

a somewhat restricted right to vote; in 1928 the restrictions were dropped and the vote was

granted on an equal basis with men. In 1920, through an amendment to the constitution,

female suffrage became general in the United States. Women voted also in Germany and

in most of the new states of Europe. In the Soviet Union women received the vote on an

equal basis with men after the revolution in 1917.

In most European countries the successors of the old prewar socialists gained in

strength. With the left wings of the old socialists generally seceding, calling themselves

Communists, and affi liating with each other and with Moscow in the Communist Interna-

tional, the European socialists or social democrats were preponderantly parties of peace-

able or revisionist Marxism, entirely willing to pursue their political and social goals by

parliamentary and legislative methods. Labor unions, with new self-confi dence gained

from the role they had played in the war, grew in membership, prestige, and importance.

Social legislation that before the war would have seemed radical was

now enacted in many places. An eight-hour legal working day became com-

mon; and government-sponsored insurance programs against sickness,

accident, and old age were either adopted or extended; an act of 1930, in

France, insured almost 10 million workers. An air of progressive democ-

racy pervaded Europe and the European world. The social service, or welfare, state, already

beginning to emerge in most European countries in the late nineteenth century, was becom-

ing more fi rmly established.

Among the states that might have been expected to continue their prewar democratic

gains in the postwar years, only Italy turned away from democracy. Italy had been a par-

liamentary state since 1861 and had introduced a democratic male suffrage in the elections

of 1913. In 1919 the Italians held their second such elections. But Italian

democracy soon abruptly ended. In 1922 an agitator named Benito

Mussolini, leading a movement that he called Fascism (thereby adding a

new word to the world’s political vocabulary), ended Italian parliamentary government

and founded his Fascist regime. Lenin in his way had already created the fi rst single-party

state; Mussolini became the fi rst of the dictators in postwar Europe outside the Soviet

Union. Fascist Italy in the 1920s was the chief exception in what seemed to be a rising tide

of democracy.

Social legislation

enacted

Mussolini

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78193. The Advance of Democracy after 1919

The New States of Central and East-Central Europe

In central and east-central Europe—in Germany, in the territory of the former Austro-

Hungarian Empire, and in the western fringe of former tsarist Russia—new states and new

governments struggled to establish themselves. The new postwar states included, besides

republican Germany, the four successor states to the Habsburg Empire—Austria, Hun-

gary, Czechoslovakia, and Yugoslavia; and the fi ve states that had broken away from the

Russian Empire—Poland, Finland, Estonia, Latvia, and Lithuania (see map, pp. 730–731).

The other small states in eastern Europe, Romania, Bulgaria, Greece, and Albania, had

already been independent before 1914; their boundaries underwent some modifi cation and

their governments underwent considerable reorganization after the war. Turkey, the suc-

cessor to the Ottoman Empire, was also a new republic.

Although many people in all countries had developed nationalist iden-

tities and aspirations, the new states in Europe were to a large extent acci-

dents of the war. Nowhere, except possibly in Poland, did they represent a

deeply felt, long-maturing revolutionary or republican sentiment. Only an infi nitesimal

number of Germans in 1914 would have voted for a republic. Even among the nationalities

Accidents of war

The 19th Amendment to the U.S. constitution, which gave Ameri- can women the right to vote in all elections, was part of a more general expansion of women’s political rights in the Atlantic world after the First World War. This poster was published by the League of Women Voters shortly after the amendment was approved in 1920, and it clearly urged women to use their new voting rights by going to the polls. (MPI/Getty Images)

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Chapter 19 Democracy, Anti-Imperialism, and the Economic Crisis after the First World War782

of Austria-Hungary in 1914 few persons would have chosen the complete breakup of the

Habsburg Empire. The republicans, moderate socialists, agrarians, or nationalists who now

found themselves in power had to improvise governments for which there had been little

preparation. They had to contend with reactionaries, monarchists, and members of the old

aristocracy. They had also to deal with Communist revolutionaries, who, inspired by

Lenin’s success, hoped to bring about a dictatorship of the proletariat. A Communist revolt

broke out in Germany in 1919 but was quickly suppressed; Soviet regimes were actually

set up and soon crushed in Hungary and in the German state of Bavaria; and as late as 1923

there was a Communist uprising in the German state of Saxony.

The new central European states all embodied the principle of national

self-determination, which held that each nationality should enjoy political

sovereignty—one nation, one government. But people in this region were

and always had been locally intermixed. Each of the new states therefore

included minority nationalities; with the exception of a disruptive, forced exchange of

populations between Greece and Turkey arranged in 1923, there was no thought of the

actual physical removal of “alien” groups. Poland, Czechoslovakia, and Yugoslavia were

the most composite of the new states. Poland and Czechoslovakia each had many disaf-

fected Germans. In Czechoslovakia the Slovaks resented Czech domination and in Yugo-

slavia, where the Serbs were in control, Croatian and other separatist movements actively

opposed the Serb domination.

Nevertheless, despite economic and nationalist troubles, the new states and govern-

ments attempted at the outset to make themselves democratic. All the newly created states

were republics except Yugoslavia, where the monarchy was under the older Serbian

dynasty. Hungary started out in 1918 as a republic, but the attempt of the Communist

leader Béla Kun to found a Hungarian Soviet Republic in 1919 brought back the counter-

revolutionaries who restored the Habsburg monarchy in principle, though they were pre-

vented by foreign pressure from restoring the king in person. Hungary emerged in 1920

as a monarchy with a perennially vacant throne, under an authoritarian regency exercised

by Admiral Horthy. All smaller states of Europe, including Hungary, possessed at least the

machinery of democracy until the 1930s; that is, they had constitutions, parliaments, elec-

tions, and a diversity of political parties. If civil liberty was sometimes violated, the right

to civil liberty was not denied; and if elections were sometimes rigged, they were at least

in principle supposed to be free.

Economic Problems of Eastern Europe; Land Reform

Eastern Europe for centuries had been an agrarian region of large landed estates, which

supported on the one hand a wealthy landowning aristocracy of almost feudal outlook,

and on the other an impoverished mass of agricultural workers with little or no property

of their own. The landed aristocracy had been the chief support of the Austro-Hungarian

Empire and an important pillar of the old order in the tsarist empire and in eastern

Prussia. The mass of the rural population through all this region had been free from

serfdom only since the middle of the preceding century. The middle class of business

and professional people was small except in Austria and Bohemia, the western portion

of Czechoslovakia. In general, people in this whole region were conscious of lagging

behind western Europe, not only in industry, factories, railroads, and great cities, but

also in literacy, schooling, reading habits, health, death rates, length of life, and material

standards of living.

Self-determination

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78393. The Advance of Democracy after 1919

The new states set out to modernize themselves, generally on the model

of the western European nations. In addition to introducing democratic and

constitutional ideas, they put up protective tariffs, behind which they tried

to develop factories and industries of their own. But the new national

boundaries created diffi culties. Where Europe had 6,000 miles of frontiers in 1913, it had

almost 10,000 after the war, and all the increase was in eastern Europe. Goods circulated

much less easily. Protected industries in the old agricultural regions produced ineffi ciently

and at high cost. Old and established industries in Austria, Czechoslovakia, and western

Poland, cut off by the new frontiers and new tariffs from their former markets, fell upon

hard times. The working class of Vienna lived in misery. Vienna, a city of 2 million per-

sons, formerly the capital of an empire of 50 million, was now the capital of a republic of

6 million. In Czechoslovakia the German minority living in the Sudetenland complained

Obstacles to

modernization

The peace settlements after the First World War transformed Vienna from its previous status as the capital city of a large empire into the capital of a small republic, but the city managed to sustain much of its earlier cultural vitality during the 1920s. This bustling outdoor cafe and dance suggest how the Viennese found ways to enjoy themselves in the diminished political context of the postwar Austrian state. (Popperfoto/Getty Images)

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Chapter 19 Democracy, Anti-Imperialism, and the Economic Crisis after the First World War784

that in hard times the German businesspeople and workers, because of government

policies, always suffered more than their Czech counterparts. Economically, the carving up

of eastern Europe into a dozen independent states was self-defeating.

The greatest of reforms undertaken by the new eastern European

states was the reform o f landownership. Although this reform could not

solve basic economic problems in the area, it did have substantial effect

on the pattern of land distribution. The whole traditional agrarian base of

society was overturned. The work of the revolutions of 1848, which, in the Habsburg

lands, had liberated the peasants from legal dependency but left them landless, was now

carried a step further. The example of the Russian Revolution provided a powerful stimu-

lus, for in Russia in 1917 peasants had driven off landlords, and Communists won a

hearing among discontented and propertyless peasants from Finland to the Balkans. Not

until 1929, it should be recalled, did the Soviet Union embark on the collectivization of

agriculture; until then, communism appeared to favor the small individual farmer. But it

may be said with equal truth that the model for agrarian reform lay in western Europe,

especially in France, the historic land of the small peasant proprietor.

Land reform worked out differently in different countries, but large estates were gen-

erally broken into smaller farms throughout the Baltic states and in much of Czechoslova-

kia. This transformation refl ected nationalist sentiment as well as a new social policy

because most of the large landowners in all of these places were German. In Romania and

Yugoslavia the breakup of large estates, though considerable, was less thorough. In Fin-

land, Bulgaria, and Greece the issue hardly arose, because small landownership was

already common. Land reform had least success in Poland and Hungary, where the landed

magnates were exceptionally strong and well-rooted.

After the land reforms, political parties of small landholders became

the chief democratic force within the various states on the western bor-

der of Russia. Often they inclined to socialism, especially because capital-

ism was associated in their minds with foreign investors and outsiders. On

the other hand, the great landowners, the former aristocrats of the prewar

empires, whether already expropriated or merely threatened with expropriation, were con-

fi rmed in a reactionary outlook. Although the land reforms provoked political fears among

traditional social elites, the changes in land ownership did not destroy the social and eco-

nomic hierarchies in eastern European societies. The new landowners’ farms were small,

frequently no more than ten acres. The peasant owners lacked capital, agricultural skill,

and knowledge of the market. Farm productivity did not rise. In place of old differences

between landlord and tenant there developed new differences between the more comfort-

able peasants and the proletarian hired hands. The continuance of relative poverty, the

obstinacy of reactionary upper classes, the new economic tensions among the peasants

themselves, the economic distortions produced by numerous tariff walls, and the lack of

any sustained tradition of self-government all helped to frustrate the democratic experi-

ments launched in the 1920s.

94. THE GERMAN REPUBLIC AND THE SPIRIT OF LOCARNO

The keystone of Europe was Germany, which also had its revolution in 1918. But it was a

revolution without revolutionaries, a negative revolution caused more by the disappearance

of the old than by any decisive arrival of the new. The emperor and the High Command of

Land reform

Peasant and small-

holder parties

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78594. The German Republic and the Spirit of Locarno

the army, in the last weeks of the war, had bowed out of the picture, leaving it to others to

face defeat and humiliation. For a time after November 1918, the political leaders in charge

of affairs were mainly Social Democrats. The Social Democrats were Marxists, but their

Marxism was the tamed, toned down, and revisionist Marxism that had prevailed for

20 years before the advent of Lenin. They were trade union offi cials and party managers.

They could look back, in 1918, on decades spent in developing labor organizations and

building up the Social Democratic Party, which in 1912 had become the largest single party

in the Reichstag. Now, in 1918, they were a cautious and prudent group, essentially conser-

vative, more anxious to preserve what they had already achieved than to launch audacious

new social experiments. Before 1917 the Social Democrats considered themselves well to

the Left. But the Bolshevik Revolution in Russia and the emergence of a pro-Bolshevik or

Communist element in Germany put the Social Democrats in the middle. The middle is an

awkward spot, especially in disturbed times; the Communists regarded the Social Demo-

crats as reactionaries, despicable traitors to the working-class movement, whereas the true

reactionaries, recruited from old monarchists, army offi cers, Junker landowners, and big

business groups, saw in social democracy, or professed to see in it, a dangerous fl irtation

with Bolshevism.

The middle group in Germany, the Social Democrats reinforced by the Catholic Cen-

ter Party and others, was more afraid of the Left than of the Right. They were appalled in

1918 and 1919 by the stories brought out of Russia, not merely by bourgeois and aristo-

cratic exiles but by refugee Social Democrats, Mensheviks, and anti-Leninist Bolsheviks,

many of whom the socialists had long known and trusted in the Second International. In

January 1919 the Spartacists, 1 led by Karl Liebknecht and Rosa Luxem-

burg, attempted to bring about a German proletarian revolution, like that

in Russia. Lenin and the Russian Bolsheviks aided them. For a time, there

seemed to be a possibility that the Spartacists might succeed in imposing a

communist dictatorship of the proletariat in Germany. But the Social Democratic Provi-

sional Government crushed the Spartacist uprising, turning for that purpose to demobi-

lized army offi cers and volunteer vigilantes recruited from the disbanding army. The

Spartacist leaders Liebknecht and Luxemburg were arrested and shot while in police

custody. The events of “Spartacus Week” widened the chasm between Social Democrats

and Communists.

Shortly after the suppression of the Spartacists, elections were held for a National

Constituent Assembly. No single party received a majority, but the Social Democrats were

the leading party. A coalition of Social Democrats, Center Party, and liberal democrats

dominated the Assembly. After several months of deliberations at the city of Weimar, in

July 1919, a constitution was adopted establishing a democratic republic. The Weimar

Republic (as the regime in Germany from 1919 to the advent of Hitler in 1933 is called)

was soon threatened ominously from the Right. In 1920 a group of disaffected army offi -

cers staged a Putsch, or armed revolt, put the republican government to fl ight, and attempted to place a puppet of their own, one Dr. Kapp, at the head of the state. The Berlin

workers, by turning off public utilities, stopped the Kapp Putsch and saved the republic.

But the Weimar government never took suffi ciently fi rm measures to put down private

armed bands led by reactionary or outspokenly antidemocratic agitators. One of these was

soon to be Adolf Hitler, who as early as 1923 staged an abortive revolt in Munich. Being

The Spartacists

1 So named from Spartacus, a Roman slave who led a slave revolt in south Italy in 72 b.c.e.

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Chapter 19 Democracy, Anti-Imperialism, and the Economic Crisis after the First World War786

democratic and liberal, the Weimar government would not deny the rights of free speech

or of election to the Reichstag to even the most radical antidemocratic groups on the Left

or the Right.

The Weimar Republic was in principle highly democratic. The consti-

tution embodied all the devices then favored by the most advanced demo-

crats, not only universal suffrage, including the vote for women, but also

proportional representation and the initiative, referendum, and recall. But

except for the legal eight-hour day and a few other such safeguards to the

workers’ welfare the republic of which the Social Democrats were the main architects

in its formative years was remote from anything socialist. No industries were national-

ized. No property changed hands. No land laws or agrarian reforms were undertaken,

as in the new states of eastern Europe; the East Elbian Junkers remained untouched in

their landed estates. The very statues of Germany’s earlier emperors, kings, princes,

and grand dukes were left standing in the streets and squares. Offi cials, civil servants,

police agents, professors, and schoolteachers of old imperial Germany remained at their

respective duties. The army, though limited by the Versailles treaty to 100,000 men,

remained the old army in miniature, with all its essential organization intact, and lack-

ing only in numbers. In the offi cer corps the old professional and aristocratic infl uences

remained strong.

Never had there been a revolution so mild, so reasonable, so tolerant. There was no

terror, no fanaticism, no stirring faith, no expropriation, and no émigré migration. There

had in truth been no revolution at all in the sense in which England, France, the United

States, Russia, and other countries either recently or in the more distant past had experi-

enced revolutions.

The German Democracy and Versailles

The supreme question for Europe and the world after 1920 was how Germany would adjust

to the postwar conditions. How would the Germans accept the new internal regime of

democracy? How would they accept the new German frontiers and other provisions of the

Treaty of Versailles? The two questions were unfortunately interconnected. The Weimar

The Weimar

Republic

The Spartacists in Germany tried to provoke a Soviet-style, Communist revolution in early 1919, but their uprising was suppressed by the Social Demo- cratic Provisional Government. These people are burning polit- ical pamphlets that they had seized from Spartacist newspa- per offi ces. (Central Press/Getty Images)

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78794. The German Republic and the Spirit of Locarno

Republic and the Treaty of Versailles were both products of the defeat of Germany in the

war. There were many Germans who favored democracy, notably the numerous Social

Democrats, and many more possibly could have been won over to it, given time and

favorable conditions. But no one, not even the Social Democrats, accepted the Treaty of

Versailles or the new German frontiers as either just or fi nal. If democracy in Germany

meant the perpetual acceptance of the treaty without amendment, or if it meant eco-

nomic distress or hardship that could either reasonably or unreasonably be explained as

consequences of the treaty, then democracy would lose such appeal as it had for the

Germans.

The German republicans, as we have seen, protested against the Ver-

sailles treaty before signing, and signed only under pressure. The Allies

continued the wartime naval blockade after the armistice, thus confi rming,

in German eyes, the argument that the Treaty of Versailles was a Diktat, a vengeful, dic- tated peace. The “war guilt” clause, while it perhaps satisfi ed a distinctive Anglo-American

sense of morality, offended a distinctive German sense of honor. Neither the reparations

demanded of them nor the new frontiers were accepted by the Germans as settled. They

regarded reparations as a perpetual mortgage on their future, and they generally expected

some day to revise their eastern frontier, recover at least the Polish corridor, and merge

with German-speaking Austria.

The French lived in fear of the day when Germany would recover.

Their plans for their own security and for the collective security of

Europe against a German revival had been disappointed. They had been

unable to detach the Rhineland from Germany. The United States Senate had refused to

ratify the treaty that Wilson signed at Paris, by which the United States was to guarantee

France against German invasion in the future. Both Britain and the United States showed

a tendency to isolation, to pull away from the Continent, to get back to “normalcy,” to

work mainly for a restored trade in which a strong Germany would be a large customer.

The League of Nations, of which the United States was not a member and in which

every member nation had a veto, offered little assurance of safety to the French. The

French began to form alliances against a potentially resurgent Germany with Poland,

Czechoslovakia, and other eastern European states. They insisted also on German pay-

ment of reparations. The amount of reparations, left unstated in the treaty, was fi xed by

a Reparations Commission in 1921 at 132 billion gold marks (the equivalent at the time

of $35 billion), a sum that even non-German economists said was more than Germany

could possibly pay.

The Weimar government in these circumstances looked to the Soviet Union, which

had been no party to the Versailles treaty and claimed no reparations. The Soviet govern-

ment meanwhile, concluding from the failure of proletarian revolution in Germany and

Hungary that the time was not ripe for the sovietizing of Europe, prepared

to enter into normal diplomatic relations with established governments.

Germany and the Soviet Union, despite ideological repugnance, thus signed

the treaty of Rapallo in 1922. In the following years the Soviet Union

obtained needed manufactures from Germany, and German factories and workers were

kept busy by orders from the Soviets. The German army dispatched offi cers and techni-

cians to give instruction to the Red Army. Obliged by the Treaty of Versailles to restrict

its activities, the German army was in fact able, through its work in Russia and through

a number of subterfuges at home, to maintain a high standard of training and technical

knowledge of new weapons and equipment.

The Versailles treaty

as “Diktat”

French fear

Soviet-German

relations

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Chapter 19 Democracy, Anti-Imperialism, and the Economic Crisis after the First World War788

Reparations, the German Infl ation of 1923, Recovery

The French, blocked in the attempt to collect reparations and assisted by the Belgians, in

1923 sent units of the French army to occupy the industrial sites of the Ruhr Valley. The

Germans responded by general strikes and passive resistance. To sustain the workers the

Weimar government paid them benefi ts, grinding paper money off the printing presses

for this purpose. Germany, like other belligerent countries, had suffered from infl ation

during and after the war; neither the imperial nor the Weimar government had been will-

ing to impose heavier taxes to offset it. But what now swept Germany was different from

ordinary infl ation. It was of catastrophic and utterly ruinous proportions. Paper money

became literally worthless. By the end of 1923 it took over 4 trillion paper marks to equal

a dollar.

This infl ation brought far more of a social revolution than the fall of

the Hohenzollern Empire had ever done. Debtors paid off debts in worth-

less money. Creditors received baskets full of meaningless paper. Salaries

even when raised lagged behind the soaring cost of living. Annuities, pensions, proceeds

of insurance policies, savings accounts in the banks, income from bonds and mortgages—

every form of revenue that had been arranged for at some time in the past, and which often

represented the economy, foresight, and personal planning of many years—now turned

to nothing. The middle class was pauperized and demoralized. Middle-class people were

now materially in much the same position as workers and proletarians. Their whole view

of life, however, made it impossible for them to identify themselves with the laboring

class or to accept its socialist ideologies. They had lost faith in society itself, in the future,

in the old burgher codes of self-reliance and rational planning of their own lives in an

understandable world. A kind of moral void was created, with nothing for them to believe

in, hope for, or respect.

The infl ation, however, by wiping out all outstanding indebtedness within the country,

made it possible, once the losses were written off and accepted, to start up economic pro-

duction afresh. The United States was persuaded to play a reluctant role, in part because it

was demanding the payment of huge war debts by the Allies. The Allies—Britain, France,

Belgium—insisted that they could not pay these debts to the United States

unless they collected reparations from Germany. In 1924 the Dawes Plan,

named for the American Charles G. Dawes who negotiated the agreement,

provided Germany with a new means to ensure the fl ow of reparations. By

the Dawes Plan the French evacuated the Ruhr, the reparations payments were cut down,

and arrangements were made for the German republic to borrow abroad. A good deal of

American private capital was invested in Germany in the following years, both in German

government bonds and in German industrial enterprises. Gradually, so at least it seemed,

Germany was put on its feet. For four or fi ve years the Weimar Republic even enjoyed a

bustling prosperity, and there was new construction in roads, housing, factories, and ocean

liners. But the prosperity rested in good measure on foreign loans, and the Great Depres-

sion that began in 1929 reopened all the old questions.

The Spirit of Locarno

These years of economic prosperity were years also of relative international calm. Yet none

of the fundamental international issues were addressed or resolved. The universal German

hatred for the Treaty of Versailles elicited no concessions from the Allies. Conceivably,

A social revolution

The Dawes Plan

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78994. The German Republic and the Spirit of Locarno

had the Allies been willing at this time to amend the treaty by international agreement,

they might have taken the wind from the sails of nationalistic rabble-rousers in Germany

and so spared themselves much later grief. It may be, however, that no possible conces-

sion would have suffi ced. The great problem was to prevent a German overthrow of the

treaty structure by violence, especially in eastern Europe where the Germans regarded the

new frontiers as very much subject to reconsideration. After the Ruhr incident in 1923 and

adoption of the Dawes Plan in 1924, a group of moderate and peace-loving national leaders

shaped the foreign policy of the principal countries—Gustav Stresemann in Germany,

Édouard Herriot and Aristide Briand in France, and Ramsay MacDonald in England.

The charter of the League of Nations provided for international sanctions against

potential aggressors. Like the system of congresses after the Peace of Vienna, the League

was designed to assure compliance with the peace treaties or at the very least their modifi -

cation without resort to force. No one expected the League, by any authority of its own, to

prevent war between Great Powers; but the League achieved various minor pacifi cations in

the 1920s, and in any case its headquarters at Geneva offered a convenient meeting place in

which statesmen could talk.

As a further assurance against war, in 1925, the European powers

signed a number of treaties at Locarno, Switzerland. These marked the high-

est point in international goodwill reached between the two World Wars.

Germany signed a treaty with France and Belgium guaranteeing their respective frontiers

The Locarno treaties

The catastrophic German infl ation of 1923 destroyed the value of wages, savings, and investments. Consumers paid for goods with baskets of paper money, forcing merchants such as this baker and his employees to calculate their daily sales with trillions of almost worthless German marks. (akg-images/Newscom)

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Chapter 19 Democracy, Anti-Imperialism, and the Economic Crisis after the First World War790

unconditionally. It signed arbitration treaties with Poland and Czechoslovakia—not guar-

anteeing these frontiers as they stood but undertaking to attempt changes in them only by

international discussion, agreement, or arbitration. France signed treaties with Poland and

Czechoslovakia promising military aid if they were attacked by Germany. France thus for-

tifi ed its policy of balancing German power in the East by its own diplomatic alliances and

by supporting the Little Entente, as the alliance of Czechoslovakia, Yugoslavia, and Roma-

nia was called. Great Britain “guaranteed”—that is, promised military aid in the event of

violation—the frontiers of Belgium and France against Germany. It did not give an equiva-

lent guarantee with respect to Czechoslovakia or Poland. The British policy was based on

the view that their security would be threatened by German expansion westward, but not

by German expansion to the east. It was on the borders of Czechoslovakia and Poland,

14 years later, that the Second World War began. Had Britain gone along with France in

1925 in guaranteeing these two countries, then abided by the guarantee, the Second World

War might possibly have been prevented. On the other hand, no war ever depends on any

single decision. It is the accumulation of many decisions that matters; and the expansionist

ambitions of Hitler and the German Nazis would not have disappeared in 1939 if the

British had simply “guaranteed” the protection of national borders in the 1920s.

In 1925 people talked with relief of the “spirit of Locarno.” In 1928 international har-

mony was again strengthened when the French foreign minister Briand and the United

States Secretary of State Frank B. Kellogg arranged for the Pact of Paris. Ultimately signed

by 65 nations, it condemned recourse to war for the solution of international controversies

(though it provided no measures of enforcement).

In the mid-1920s the outlook for European international relations

was therefore full of hope. At Locarno, Germany had of its own volition

accepted its borders both east and west, to the extent of abjuring violence

and unilateral action even in the east. In 1926 Germany joined the League

of Nations. Germany appeared to be developing a democratic republic. Democracy also

seemed to work, as well as could be expected, in most of the new states of eastern Europe,

and Communist Russia itself had halted its postwar revolutionary offensive. The world

economy was again expanding, and the major European nations seemed to be more pros-

perous. World production was at or above the prewar level. World trade, by 1929, measured

in hard money—gold—had almost doubled since 1913. The war and the postwar troubles

were remembered as a nightmare from which Europe had fi nally escaped. It seemed that,

after all, the world had been made safe for democracy.

But complacency was shattered by the great world Depression, by the growth of a

malignant nationalism in Germany, due in part to the Depression, and by the assertion of

a new militancy in Japan, which also was not unrelated to the Depression. But let us turn

fi rst to the postwar Asian nationalisms that rose up against European imperialism and chal-

lenged Europe’s once-dominant position in the global economy.

95. ANTI-IMPERIALIST MOVEMENTS IN ASIA

Resentments in Asia

The peoples of Asia had never been satisfi ed with the position in which they found them-

selves after the great European expansion of the nineteenth century. Increasingly they

condemned everything associated with “imperialism.” In this respect there was little

A hopeful outlook

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79195. Anti-Imperialist Movements in Asia

difference between countries actually governed by Europeans as parts of European

empires in the nineteenth century, such as British India, the Netherlands Indies, and

French Indochina, and countries that remained nominally independent under their own

government, such as China, Persia, and the Ottoman Empire. In the former, as new

national movements began to develop, there was objection to the monopoly of Europeans

in the important offi ces of government. In the latter, there was objection to the special

rights and privileges enjoyed by Europeans, the widespread impounding of customs reve-

nues to pay foreign debts, the special privileges for foreigners in Turkey, the extraterrito-

rial rights in China, and the spheres of infl uence in Persia that divided the country between

British and Russians.

By imperialism, in either case, Asians meant a system whereby the

affairs of their own country were conducted, its resources exploited, and its

people employed for the benefi t of foreigners, Europeans, or white people.

They meant the system of absentee capitalism, by which the plantations, docks, or facto-

ries on which they themselves labored, were the property of owners thousands of miles

away whose main interest was a regular fl ow of profi ts. They meant the constant threat

that an alien civilization would disintegrate and eat away their own ancient cultures. They

meant the burden of having to speak a European language or the disagreeable prospect of

having to fi ght in wars originated by Europeans. And they meant the airs of superiority

assumed by white people, the race consciousness exhibited by all Europeans, the color

line that was everywhere drawn, the attitudes varying between contempt and condescen-

sion, the relation of native “boy” and European “sahib.” Imperialism to them signifi ed the

gentlemen’s clubs in Kolkata to which no Indian was ever admitted, the hotels in Shanghai

from which Chinese were carefully kept out, or the park benches in various cities on which

no “native” could ever sit. In deeper psychology, as well as in economics and politics, the

revolt of self-conscious Asians was a rebellion against an imperial system that reduced

them to social inferiority and humiliation in their own societies.

The revolt against European imperialism was generally ambivalent or two-sided. It

was a revolt against Western supremacy; but at the same time, in most cases those who

revolted meant to learn from and imitate numerous components of European cultures. By

using the methods and knowledge of European science, industry, organization, and other

sources of European power, they sought to preserve their own identity and achieve politi-

cal and economic equality with the European nation-states. Anti-imperialist movements

and intellectuals thus borrowed from Western culture even as they vehemently rejected

European ideologies that assumed the superiority of European institutions or races.

The twentieth-century challenge to European imperialism in Asia had broken out

with the Russo-Japanese War, when an Asian people in 1905 defeated a major European

power for the fi rst time. In 1906 revolution began in Persia, leading to the

assembly of the fi rst majlis, or parliament. In 1908 the Young Turks staged a successful revolution in Constantinople and summoned a parliamentary

assembly to represent all regions then in the Ottoman Empire. In 1911

the revolutionists in China, led by Sun Yat-sen, overthrew the Manchu

(or Qing) dynasty and proclaimed the Chinese Republic. In each case the rebels charged

their old monarchs—shah, sultan, emperor—with subservience to European imperialists.

In each case they summoned national assemblies on the prevailing democratic model of

Europe, and they proposed to revive, modernize, and even Europeanize their countries to

the degree necessary to avoid domination by the imperial powers.

Imperialism in Asia

Anti-imperialist

revolts

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Chapter 19 Democracy, Anti-Imperialism, and the Economic Crisis after the First World War792

First World War and Russian Revolution

In the First World War almost all the Asian peoples were somehow involved. The Ottoman

Empire, allied with Germany, immediately repudiated all the capitulations, or special legal

rights of Europeans. In Persia, where Russian and British intervention in 1907 had blocked

the developing movement for constitutional reform, there was a concerted attempt to main-

tain Persian neutrality in the war and to get rid of the foreign spheres of infl uence that

Russia and Britain had imposed through agreements between themselves. Persian territory

became a battleground of British, Russian, and Turkish forces; and a large number of Per-

sians died from wartime violence, disruption, and disease. China, which joined the Allies,

attempted at the peace conference to have the extraterritorial rights in China abolished. We

have seen how this request of the Chinese Republic was refused, and how the Allies instead

transferred many of the prewar German concessions to the Japanese. The colonized regions

of Asia, the Dutch, French, and British possessions, were stimulated economically by the

war. The Netherlands Indies, though remaining neutral, increased its output of foodstuffs,

oil, and raw materials. India developed its steel industry and textile manufactures and con-

tributed over a million soldiers, combat and service troops, to the British cause. All the

colonized regions were stirred by Woodrow Wilson’s call to make the world safe for

democracy.

The home governments made concessions, but they were always afraid

they might go too far. They insisted that their subject peoples were not yet

capable of self-government. Huge investments were at stake, and the whole

world economy depended on the continuing fl ow of raw materials from

tropical and subtropical countries. But they did compromise. In 1916 the

Dutch created a legislative assembly to advise the governor general of the Indies; half its

members were Indonesians. In 1917 the British agreed to a measure of self-government in

India; an Indian legislative assembly was set up with 140 members, of whom 100 were

elected, and in the provinces of British India the number of elected representatives and of

local Indian offi cials was increased. The French in 1922 provided for a somewhat similar

assembly in Indochina. Thus all three colonial powers at about the same time began to

experiment with consultative bodies whose membership was partly elective and partly

appointive, partly non-European and partly European.

The Russian Revolution added a new stimulus to unrest in Asia. The

Bolsheviks denounced not only capitalism but also imperialism. In Marxist-

Leninist ideology imperialism was an aspect of capitalism, which Lenin had

called the “highest” or “fi nal” phase of capitalist societies. Colonial peoples

also tended to identify the two, not so much for Marxist reasons as because

modern capitalism was a foreign or “imperialist” phenomenon in colonial countries, where

the ownership and the management of large enterprises were foreign. Nationalism in Asia,

the movement for independence or for more equality with Europe, thus easily shaded off

into socialism and the denunciation of capitalist exploitation. The Bolsheviks were quick

to see the advantages for themselves in this situation. As it became clear that the world

revolution, as expected by Lenin, would not soon come to pass in Europe, the Russian

Communists turned to Asia as the theater in which world capitalism might be attacked by

a great fl anking movement. In September 1920 a “congress of oppressed Eastern peoples”

assembled at Baku, on the coast of the Caspian Sea. Zinoviev, head of the Communist

International, called for war upon “the wild beasts of British capitalism.” In the following

years a few future radical leaders from Asian countries sojourned in Moscow. Meanwhile,

Home government

concessions

Bolshevik

anti-imperialism

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79395. Anti-Imperialist Movements in Asia

Communists dispatched from Moscow stirred up the discontents which existed, quite with-

out Russian instigation, all over Asia.

The postwar situation in Asia was thus extremely fl uid. People who were not Commu-

nists hailed communism as a liberating force. Anti-European activists declared that their

countries must Europeanize, at least in certain aspects of science, technology, and social

organization. Nationalism overshadowed all other “isms.” In the Indian National Congress

rich Indian capitalists worked together with socialist leaders in relative harmony so long as

the common enemy was the British.

The Turkish and Persian Revolutions

The most immediately successful of the revolutionary movements took place in Turkey.

The Young Turks at fi rst, in 1908, had meant to prevent the further dissolution of the Otto-

man Empire. This proved to be impossible. In the Balkan wars of 1912–1913 the Ottoman

power was almost totally excluded from the Balkan Peninsula. In the First World War, in

which the Turks were on the losing side, the Arabs with a great deal of British assistance

broke away. After the war, in 1921, the Greeks invaded the Anatolian Peninsula. They

dreamed of a greater Greece embracing both sides of the Aegean. Europeans still regarded

Turkey as “the sick man of Europe,” the Ottoman state as doomed to extinction, and the

Turkish people as barbarous or incompetent. The Allies had agreed in 1915 to partition the

Ottoman Empire; and after the war the western European powers favored the Greek inva-

sion. Italian and French forces occupied parts of Anatolia; and Italians, French, and British

undertook to take Constantinople from Turkish rule, though its disposition remained

uncertain. In these circumstances a powerful army offi cer named Mustapha Kemal rallied

Turkish national resistance. Within two years, and with aid from the Soviet Union, the

Turks drove out the Greeks and the European Allies. They affi rmed their hold on the

Anatolian Peninsula, and on both shores of the Straits, including Constantinople, which in

1930 was renamed Istanbul.

The Nationalists, under the energetic drive of Mustapha Kemal, now

put through a sweeping revolution. They abolished the sultanate and the

caliphate, because the sultan had compromised himself with foreigners and

was also, as caliph or commander of the faithful, a religious leader for all Islam and hence

a conservative link with the past. The Turkish Republic was promulgated in 1923.

Whereas the Ottoman Empire had been a composite organization made up of diverse

religious communities, among which the Muslims were the ruling group, the Turkish

Republic was conceived as a national state in which the “people,” that is, the Turkish peo-

ple, were sovereign. Universal suffrage was introduced, along with a parliament, a minis-

try, and a president with strong powers. Non-Turks in Asia Minor now became “foreign”

in a way they had not been before. We have seen that the Armenians were deported and

massacred during the First World War. The other large non-Turkish and Christian people

were the Greeks. After the war about 1.4 million Greeks either fl ed or were offi cially

transported from Asia Minor to Greece and in exchange some 400,000 Turks residing in

northern Greece were transported to Turkey. This forcible exchange of peoples became

an early example of what would later be called “ethnic cleansing.” The forced migration

caused great hardship, it uprooted most of the Greek population that had lived in Asia

Minor since antiquity, and it overwhelmed the impoverished Greek kingdom by obliging

it suddenly to absorb a mass of destitute refugees, who were a quarter as numerous as the

population of Greece itself. But it enabled the Turkish Republic to acquire a relatively

The Turkish Republic

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Chapter 19 Democracy, Anti-Imperialism, and the Economic Crisis after the First World War794

homogeneous population (except for a Kurdish minority in eastern Turkey), and it ended

minority disputes between Greece and Turkey until new problems arose after the Second

World War.

For the fi rst time in any Muslim country the spheres of government and religion were

sharply distinguished. The Turkish Republic affi rmed the total separation of church and

state. It declared religion to be a private belief, and it tolerated all religions. Government

was reorganized on secular and nonreligious principles stemming from the French Revolu-

tion. The law of the Qur’an was thrust aside. The new law was modeled on the Swiss Code,

the most recently codifi ed European legislation, itself derived from the Code Napoleon.

Mustapha Kemal urged women to put aside the veil, to come out of the

harem, to vote, and to occupy public offi ce. He made polygamy a crime.

Men he required by law to discard the fez. He fought against the fez as

Peter the Great had fought against the beard, and for the same reason, see-

ing in it the symbol of backward habits. The hat, “headgear of civilization,” correspond-

ingly became the symbol of progress. The people shifted to European dress. The European

Separation of church

and state

The governments of Greece and Turkey agreed in the early 1920s to force the migration of Muslims from Greece and of Christians from Turkey. This dual expulsion caused great hard- ship for hundreds of thousands of displaced people, including these beleaguered Muslim refu- gees who moved into Turkey during the fall of 1923. (Topical Press Agency/Hulton Archive/Getty Images)

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79595. Anti-Imperialist Movements in Asia

alphabet became mandatory; literate Turks had to learn to read again, and illiteracy was

reduced. The European calendar and the metric system were adopted. Turks were required

to assume hereditary family surnames, like Europeans; Kemal himself took the name

Atatürk, or Great Turk. The capital was moved from Istanbul to Ankara. The republic put

up a high tariff. In 1933 it adopted a fi ve-year plan for economic development. The Turks,

having shaken off foreign infl uence, were determined not to become again dependent on

European capital or capitalism. The fi ve-year plan provided for mines, railroads, and fac-

tories, mainly under government ownership. At the same time, while willing to accept

Russian aid against the western European powers, the republic had no patience with com-

munism, which it suppressed. The Turks wanted a modern Turkey—by and for the Turks;

and the Turkish government (like the late nineteenth-century Japanese government) set out

to gain its full independence from the western European powers by imposing European-

style reforms on its own people and institutions.

Persia experienced a different kind of political revolution, but there

were comparable attempts to reduce the infl uence of foreign powers. When

the British tried to establish a postwar colonial protectorate there in 1919,

they were stymied by strong national resistance. Meanwhile, the new Soviet regime with-

drew from Persia and renounced all claims of the previous Russian government. In 1921

an army offi cer named Reza Khan overthrew the older ruling Qajar dynasty and in 1925

became shah (with British and Soviet support). Henceforth known as Reza Shah Pahlavi,

he established a repressive regime that sought to modernize the country and to break away

from various agreements with the British government. Earlier concessions, capitulations,

and spheres of infl uence were abolished, and Reza Shah renegotiated the British oil con-

tracts. There were also efforts to assert greater control over foreign corporations and to col-

lect more taxes, though revenues still fell below what the shah hoped to extract. Beginning

in 1935, the government affi rmed its national identity by changing the country’s offi cial

international name to Iran, which had for some time been used within the nation itself.

The National Movement in India: Gandhi and Nehru

India at the close of the First World War was on the verge of revolution against British

rule. Discontented Indians looked for leadership to Mohandas K. Gandhi, the Mahatma, or

Holy One, who in the following decades, though hardly typical of modern Asia, attained a

worldwide eminence as the champion of subjected peoples. Gandhi had been educated in

England in the 1890s and had practiced law in South Africa, where he became aware of

racial discrimination as a worldwide problem. In India, after 1919, he led a movement for

self-government and economic and spiritual independence from Great Britain. He also

sought greater tolerance within India itself, both between Hindus and Muslims, and

between upper-caste Hindus and the depressed outcastes and untouchables. The weapons

he favored were those of nonviolence, passive resistance, civil disobedience, and the boy-

cott. He took to self-imposed fasts and hunger strikes to cope with his British jailers and

later with the Indians themselves.

Gandhi and his most loyal followers, as the troubles mounted, refused to be elected to

or take part in the partially representative institutions that the British had cautiously intro-

duced. They also undermined the British economic position in India by refusing to buy or

use goods imported from England. The latter touched the British in a sensi-

tive spot. Before the World War half of all exports of British cotton cloth

went to India, but by 1932 this proportion had fallen to a quarter. Gandhi

New regime in Persia

Gandhi’s campaign

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Chapter 19 Democracy, Anti-Imperialism, and the Economic Crisis after the First World War796

turned against all industrialism, even the mechanized industry that was growing up in

India itself. He put aside European clothing, took to using a spinning wheel and living on

goat’s milk, urged Indian peasants to revive their old handicrafts, and appeared on solemn

occasions clad in no more than a homespun loincloth. By the high level of his principles

Gandhi made himself an inspiration to many groups that differed on more mundane mat-

ters. Even in Britain and other Western countries he came to be regarded as one of the

great spiritual leaders of all time.

India was very much divided within, and the British maintained that

because of these divisions the ending of British rule would precipitate anar-

chy. There were Hindus and Muslims, between whom clashes and terrorist

outrages were chronic. (Gandhi was himself assassinated in 1948 by an

anti-Muslim Hindu fanatic.) There were the hundreds of minor potentates

of the native states. There were Indian capitalists and wealthy industrialists, like the Tata

family, and growing masses of proletarians produced by Indian industrialization. There

were the higher castes and the outcastes, and there were hundreds of millions of peasants

living in rural poverty. In politics, there were those who demanded full independence,

boycotted the British, and spent years in jail, as did Gandhi and his more practical-minded

but devoted follower Jawaharlal Nehru; and there were the moderates who believed that

they might best advance the welfare of India by accepting government offi ce, cooperating

with the British, and working for dominion status within the British Empire. Marxism

exerted a strong appeal, not indeed on the spiritual and pacifi c Gandhi, but on Nehru and

even many of the less radical leaders. In the 1920s the Soviet Union stood in their eyes for

the overthrow of imperialism; in the 1930s it pointed the way toward economic develop-

ment by its adoption of fi ve-year plans. For a people wishing to move from poverty to

Divisions in society

and politics

The president of the new Turkish Repub- lic, Mustapha Kemal Atatürk, sought to reduce the infl uence of Islam and to “Europeanize” diverse aspects of Turkish society. In this photograph from about 1925, he shows his support for such changes by wearing European-style clothes and by dancing at his daughter’s wedding. (Hulton Archive/Getty Images)

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79795. Anti-Imperialist Movements in Asia

industrial strength and higher living standards without loss of time, and without depen-

dence on foreign capital and capitalism, the Soviet Union with its economic planning

seemed to offer a more appropriate model and more practical lessons than the rich democ-

racies of western Europe, with their centuries of gradual progress behind them.

The 20 years between world wars were years of repeated disturbance,

rioting and repression, sporadic violence despite the exhortations of

Gandhi, conferences and round tables, reforms and promises of reform, with

a shift in the 1930s toward more participation of Indians in the governing

institutions of the colonial system. Independence from Britain, however,

was not won until after the Second World War; and in this transition to independence the

Indian subcontinent was partitioned into two new nations, a predominantly Hindu India

and a predominantly Muslim Pakistan.

National Movements in French Indochina and the Netherlands Indies

Resistance to European imperialism developed also in French-controlled Indochina and

in the Netherlands Indies. We have seen how the Vietnamese nationalist Ho Chi Minh

urged President Wilson to recognize the rights of colonized people in French Indochina at

the time of the Versailles peace conference, but his petition was ignored. The Bolshevik

denunciation of European imperialism therefore attracted Ho’s sympathetic attention. He

moved from France to Moscow, where he became active in the Comintern and began to

develop his ideas for an anticolonial revolution in Indochina. He spent most of the 1920s

and 1930s in the Soviet Union or in China, however, so that his slowly emerging commu-

nist movement had little direct infl uence in Vietnam before the Second World War.

Meanwhile, a new nationalist party was established within Vietnam in 1927. Draw-

ing on both socialism and the ideas of the Nationalist Party in China, anticolonial activists

formed the Viet Nam Quoc Dan Dang (VNQDD). This group and others launched an anti-

French campaign that included targeted assassinations of French offi cials and support for

disaffected Vietnamese soldiers who served in the French colonial army. Some of these

soldiers, encouraged by civilian nationalists, mutinied against their French commanders

in 1930, but the revolt was quickly suppressed. In the aftermath of this brief rebellion, the

French colonial government executed or imprisoned the main nationalist agitators. Other

Vietnamese nationalists fl ed to China, and the anticolonial movement stalled until the Sec-

ond World War, when Ho Chi Minh arrived to lead a new Viet Minh nationalist and com-

munist movement against both the Japanese and (after 1945) the French.

In the Netherlands Indies, where the nationalist movement was less developed than in

India, the interwar independence movement somewhat resembled the anticolonial activi-

ties in Indochina. The Bolshevik critique of imperialism drew some Indonesian national-

ists to communism, and a serious rebellion, in which communists took part, broke out in

1926. But the Dutch quickly suppressed the revolt and cracked down on both the com-

munist and the noncommunist elements of the nationalist movement. In the following year

a new Indonesian National Party (PNI) was created by young Indonesians who wanted to

build a unifi ed, anticolonial movement. Although the Dutch soon arrested the party’s lead-

ers, including the future fi rst president of Indonesia (Sukarno), the independence move-

ment continued to gain support.

The peoples of the Indonesian archipelago were almost as diverse as those of India.

Only the Dutch empire had brought them politically together. Opposition to the Dutch

gave them a common program. In 1937 the legislative council petitioned for dominion

Continuing struggle

for independence

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Chapter 19 Democracy, Anti-Imperialism, and the Economic Crisis after the First World War798

status. But not until after the Second World War and the failure of a military effort to

repress the nationalists did the Dutch, in 1949, concede independence.

The Chinese Revolution: The Three People’s Principles

The Chinese Revolution had opened in 1911 with the overthrow of the Manchu (Qing)

dynasty, which itself had belatedly begun to introduce modernizing reforms. A Chinese

Republic was proclaimed, but the fi rst immediate result was the establishment in Peking

(now Beijing) of a military dictatorship exercised by General Yüan Shih-kai, who had

been a close adviser to the Manchus. In the south the veteran revolutionary Dr. Sun

Yat-sen reorganized the Guomindang (National People’s, or Nationalist

Party), successor to the prerevolutionary network of underground societies

of which he had been the chief architect. 2 Sun, elected the fi rst president of

the republic by a revolutionary provisional assembly, resigned within a few

months in favor of General Yüan, who he mistakenly believed would unite

the country under a parliamentary regime. Subsequently, in the confusion that followed the

struggle for power in Peking after Yüan’s death in 1916, Sun was proclaimed president of

a rival government in the south at Canton (now Guangzhou), which exercised a nominal

power over the southern provinces. Not until 1928 could any government have any basis

for claiming actual rule over China—and even then, there were important exceptions.

It was Sun Yat-sen who best expressed the ideas of this phase of the Chinese Revolu-

tion. Born in 1867 and educated under American infl uence in the Hawaiian Islands, he had

received a medical degree at Hong Kong, had traveled and lived around the world, studied

European and American ideas, lectured to Chinese audiences in America, collected money

for his conspiracies against the Manchus, and had returned from Europe to take part in the

revolution. Shortly before his death in 1925 Sun gathered the lectures that he had been

expounding for years into a book, The Three People’s Principles. The book sheds much light on the revolt of China and of all Asia against the supremacy of the Western imperial

powers.

The three people’s principles, according to Sun Yat-sen, were democ-

racy, nationalism, and livelihood. Livelihood meant social welfare and eco-

nomic reform—a more equitable distribution of wealth and land, a gradual

end to poverty and unjust economic exploitation. By nationalism Dr. Sun

meant that the Chinese who had always lived mainly in the clan and fam-

ily had now to learn the importance of the nation and the state. They were in fact a great

nation, he taught, the world’s most cultured, and had once prevailed from the mouth of

the Amur to the East Indies. But they had never been cohesive. The Chinese had been “a

sheet of loose sand”; they must now “break down individual liberty and become pressed

together into an unyielding body like the fi rm rock which is formed by the addition of

cement to sand.”

By democracy Sun Yat-sen meant the sovereignty of the people. Like Rousseau, he

gave little attention to voting, elections, or parliamentary processes. He believed that while

Sun Yat-sen and the

Nationalists

Democracy, nation-

alism, livelihood

2 The Pinyin system, adopted in 1979 by the People’s Republic of China, is now widely used for the translitera-

tion of Chinese into languages like English that use the Latin alphabet, replacing the older Wade-Giles spelling.

Kuomintang is now rendered as Guomindang, Mao Tse-tung as Mao Zedong, Peking as Beijing, Nanking as

Nanjing, Chou En-lai as Zhou Enlai, Teng Hsiao-p’ing as Deng Xiaoping, and so on. For a few names like Sun

Yat-sen or Chiang Kai-shek the original spellings are often retained.

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79995. Anti-Imperialist Movements in Asia

The nonviolent principles of Mohandas Gandhi profoundly shaped the Indian movement for national independence after the First World War. He is shown here in typically simple clothing as he led his followers on a “walk to the sea” to collect salt as part of a boycott of British goods and to promote his nonviolent campaign for Indian national independence. (Hulton Archive/Getty Images)

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Chapter 19 Democracy, Anti-Imperialism, and the Economic Crisis after the First World War800

the people were sovereign, the able should govern. Adhering in this respect to traditional

Confucian teachings, he believed that government should be conducted by experts, a prin-

ciple he criticized the Western powers for neglecting. Dr. Sun felt a warm sympathy for

Lenin. Yet he was by no means a doctrinaire Marxist. Marxism he thought inapplicable to

China, arguing that the Chinese must take Marxism as they took all other European ideas,

avoiding slavish imitation, using, adapting, amending, or rejecting as they saw fi t. China

had no native capitalism in any European sense. The “capitalists” in China, he said, were

owners of land, especially in cities such as Shanghai, where the coming of Europeans had

raised land values to dizzy heights. Hence if China could get rid of imperialism it would

take a long step toward getting rid of capitalism also; it could begin to equalize landown-

ing and confi scate unearned rents. Because China, he observed, had no true capitalists, the

state itself must undertake capitalist and industrial development. This would require loans

of foreign capital and the services of foreign managers and technicians, adding another

reason why the Chinese state, to maintain control, must be strong.

With Sun Yat-sen, in short, democracy easily shaded off into a theory of benevolent

and constructive dictatorship. Marxism, communism, socialism, “livelihood,” the planned

society, welfare economics, and antiforeign and anti-imperialist sentiment were all mixed

together in a complex combination of European and Chinese ideas and political aspira-

tions. The new nationalism in China (as well as the new Chinese Communism that was

beginning to develop at the same time) may therefore be seen as an example of the ways in

which the emerging campaigns against European imperialism often drew on European

ideologies and intellectual traditions, even as they denounced the actions of European gov-

ernments or corporations and the racism of European cultures.

The fi rst aim of Sun Yat-sen and of the revolutionists in China was to

shake off the “treaty system” that had bound China to outside interests

since 1842. In this respect the Paris peace conference had been as disap-

pointing for the Chinese as it had been for other explicitly colonized

peoples. The Chinese not only failed to obtain the abolition of Western privileges and

extraterritorial rights but also could not win back the former German concessions that the

Japanese had taken over during the war. Widespread student and worker demonstrations

directed against the Western powers took place at the time of the Paris peace conference

on May 4, 1919. The May Fourth movement heightened antiforeign consciousness.

As the western European powers proved obdurate, Sun and the Guomindang turned to

Russia. They declared the Russian and Chinese revolutions to be two aspects of the same

worldwide movement of liberation. The Chinese Communist Party, organized in 1921,

became allied with the Guomindang in 1923. The latter accepted Russian Communist advis-

ers, notably the veteran revolutionist Borodin, whom Sun Yat-sen had known

years before in the United States. The Soviet Union, following its strategy of

outfl anking world capitalism by penetrating Asia, sent military equipment,

army instructors, and party organizers into China. It also surrendered the

Russian concessions and extraterritorial rights that the tsars had acquired in China. The

Chinese policy of friendliness to Russia began to produce the hoped-for effects; the British, to

draw China from Russia, gave up a few of their lesser concessions at Hankow and other cities.

China: Nationalists and Communists

The Guomindang, its armies reorganized and strengthened, displayed a fresh vitality and

after 1924 launched a military and political offensive. The new offensive was planned by

Antiforeign sentiments

Alliances with Russia

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80195. Anti-Imperialist Movements in Asia

the ever-active Russian advisers, supported by the Chinese Communists, and headed by

Chiang Kai-shek, who succeeded to the leadership of the Nationalist party upon Sun’s

death in 1925. Chiang’s main objectives were to compel the independent war lords and the

regime still holding offi ce in Beijing to accept the authority of a single Nationalist govern-

ment. By the end of 1928 Chiang’s armies had swept northward, occupied Beijing, and

transferred the seat of government to Nanjing. Chiang now exercised at least nominal con-

trol over most of China, although effective control was still limited by the recalcitrance of

many provincial war lords. The outside powers, acknowledging the accomplishments of

the Guomindang, extended diplomatic recognition to the Nanjing government and con-

ceded its right to organize and run the country’s tariff and customs affairs. They also par-

tially surrendered their extraterritorial privileges and pledged to abolish them completely

in the near future.

In 1927, while a measure of national unity was being forged in the country, an open

break occurred between the Guomindang and its left wing. In the course of the north-

ern military campaign, and particularly in the seizure of Nanjing, popular disturbance

and excesses, including the killing of a number of foreigners, had taken place, allegedly

fomented by the Communists. Chiang himself had never apparently considered the alli-

ance with either the Communists or the Russians as anything more than one of conve-

nience. He now took decisive action, purging Communists and Russian advisers from the

party, and executing many people who were affi liated with left-wing groups. Borodin and

others fl ed to Moscow, and a Communist-led uprising in Guangzhou was

forcefully suppressed. A number of armed Communist groups fl ed to the

safety of the mountain regions in the south and joined other guerrilla con-

tingents. In that way the Chinese Red Army was formed; among its leaders

was Mao Zedong, a former librarian, teacher, newspaper editor, and union

organizer, who had been one of the founding members of the party.

The Communists, operating in southeast China, fed on popular discontent and drew

support from the peasantry by a systematic policy of expropriation and distribution of large

landed estates as well as by intensive propaganda. They succeeded in fi ghting off Chiang’s

armies and even in winning over part of his troops. Organizing a network of local soviets,

in 1931 they proclaimed a Chinese Soviet Republic in the southeast. When the Nationalist

armies succeeded in dislodging them, the Communists, under Mao’s leadership, undertook

in 1934–1935 an amazing 6,000-mile march over near-insuperable terrain to north-central

Yenan, where they were closer to Soviet supply lines. About 90,000 began the Long March,

of which only half survived. They entrenched themselves again, fought off the Nationalist

armies, and built up a popular following among the rural masses. The Chinese

Communists thus survived all attempts to destroy their army and their base of

popular support; and after a long struggle against the Japanese invasion of

China during the Second World War, the Communists eventually defeated the

Guomindang. Taking power in all China by 1949, Mao and his allies fi nally

drove both the Europeans and the Americans from their long-established positions in the

Chinese cities and economy—thereby becoming also an international symbol for other

anti-imperialist movements in late twentieth-century Asia. The Chinese Revolution

was a prolonged, ruthless confl ict, and it never established a democratic political system. It

also differed from the national movements that challenged the European colonial systems

in India, Indochina, and the Netherlands Indies, but it became a widely infl uential force in

the broader Asian rejection of European imperialism during the decades after the

First World War.

Communists purged

from the Guomindang

Advance of Chinese

Communism

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Chapter 19 Democracy, Anti-Imperialism, and the Economic Crisis after the First World War802

96. THE GREAT DEPRESSION: COLLAPSE OF THE WORLD ECONOMY

The capitalist economic system was a delicate and interlocking mechanism in which any dis-

turbance was rapidly transmitted with accelerating impact through all the parts. The European

economy, like the economies in all other regions of the world, was deeply entangled in a

global system of trade and production. For many basic commodities prices were determined

by the free play of supply and demand in a worldwide market. There was much regional divi-

sion of labor; large areas lived by producing a few specialized articles for sale to the world as

a whole. A great deal of production, both local and international, especially in the 1920s, was

fi nanced by credit, that is, by promises of repayment in the future. The system rested upon

mutual confi dence in the processes of mutual exchange—on the belief of lenders, creditors,

and investors that they would get their money back and on the belief of borrowers that they

could pay their debts. This vast interlocking system also depended on the ability of farms and

factories to market their products at prices high enough to bring a net return, so that farmers

and factory people might purchase the output of other factories and farms—all this round and

round in countless circles of mutual interdependence and throughout the world as a whole.

The Prosperity of the 1920s and Its Weaknesses

The fi ve years after 1924 were a period of prosperity in that there was an expansion of

international trade, building, and new industries. The automobile, for example, still in very

limited use before 1914, became an article of mass production after the war.

Mao Zedong and Zhou Enlai led nearly 100,000 Communists on the famous “Long March” from southeast China to the northwest province of Yenan in 1934–1935. They were escap- ing the armies of the National- ist Guomindang and seeking to establish new bases near their allies in the Soviet Union. This picture shows Mao and Zhou as they appeared at the time of the march, which crossed almost 6,000 miles of remote terrain. The Chinese Commu- nist Party, after 1949, would become the most powerful opponent of European imperial interventions in Asia. (Keystone/Getty Images)

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80396. The Great Depression: Collapse of the World Economy

Its  widespread use increased the demand for oil, steel, rubber, and electrical equipment,

caused the building of tens of thousands of miles of roads, and created whole new occupa-

tions for truck drivers, garage mechanics, and gas station attendants. Similarly the new

mass popularity of radios and movies had repercussions in all directions. The economic

expansion was most phenomenal in the United States, but almost all European countries

enjoyed it in greater or lesser degree. “Prosperity” became a magical term, and some

thought that it would last indefi nitely, that the secret of human plenty and of progress had

been found, and that science and invention were at last realizing the hopes of ages.

But there were weaknesses in this prosperity, various imperfections in

this or that gear or valve of the mechanism, fl aws that, under stress, were to

bring the whole intricate structure to a halt. The expansion was largely

fi nanced by credit, or borrowing. Laboring people received less than a pro-

portionate share; wages lagged behind profi ts and dividends; mass purchas-

ing power, even when infl ated by installment buying (another form of credit), was

inadequate to pay for the vast output that it was technically possible to produce. And

throughout the world the whole decade of the 1920s was a time of chronic agricultural

depression, so that farmers could neither pay their debts nor purchase manufactures to the

degree required for the smooth functioning of the system.

Military operations in the First World War had reduced wheat fi elds

under cultivation in Europe by a fi fth. The world price of wheat went up,

and farmers in the United States, Canada, and elsewhere increased their

acreage. Often, to acquire land at high prices, they assumed mortgages that

A prosperity fi nanced

by credit

Worldwide agricul-

tural depression

CHRONOLOGY OF NOTABLE EVENTS, 1911–1935

1911 Revolution in China ends the Qing (Manchu) dynasty

January 1919 Spartacist attempt at proletarian revolution is suppressed in Berlin

July 1919 Weimar Republic is established in Germany

1919 Gandhi launches campaign in India for independence from Britain

1922 Germany and the Soviet Union agree to diplomatic relations in Treaty of

Rapollo

1923 French occupation of the Ruhr Valley and ruinous German infl ation

1923 Turkish Republic is established under the leadership of Kemal Atatürk, who

launches modernizing reforms

1925 Treaties at Locarno recognize the postwar European national borders

1925 Reza Khan becomes shah of Iran and seeks to curb British and other foreign

concessions

1925 Death of Sun Yat-sen is followed by confl icts between Nationalists and

Communists in China and gradual decline of European infl uence

October 1929 Stock market crash in New York leads to the Great Depression

1932 Governments respond to economic crisis with national protectionism

1932–1939 Writers respond to social crisis with new “social realism”

1934–1935 Chinese communists make the 6,000-mile Long March and claim to lead the

“anti-imperialist” movement in China

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Chapter 19 Democracy, Anti-Imperialism, and the Economic Crisis after the First World War804

in later years they were unable to repay. After the war Europe restored its wheat production,

and eastern Europe reentered the world market. Agriculture everywhere was increasingly

mechanized, and farmers rapidly increased their output of wheat by using a tractor-drawn

harvester-thresher combine. At the same time dry farming opened up new land, and sci-

ence increased the yield per acre. The result of all these agricultural developments was a

superabundant global output of wheat. But the demand for wheat was what economists call

“inelastic.” By and large, within the area of Europe and the wider Western world, people

already ate as much bread as they wanted and would buy no more; and the undernourished

masses of Asia, who in pure theory could have consumed the excess, could not pay even

low costs of production or transportation. The world price of wheat fell incredibly. In 1930

a bushel of wheat, in terms of gold, sold for the lowest price in 400 years.

Wheat growers everywhere were faced with ruin. Growers of many other crops faced

the same dismal prospect. Cotton and corn, coffee and cocoa all collapsed. Brazilian and

Movies became one of the most popular entertainments in European cities during the early twentieth century. This crowd was waiting to enter London’s Brixton Astoria Theater in December 1930. Similar movie theaters attracted large audiences throughout Europe, even amid the economic crisis of the Great Depression. (Fox Photos/Getty Images)

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80596. The Great Depression: Collapse of the World Economy

African planters were caught by overproduction and falling prices. In Java, where the acre-

age in sugar had been extended and the unit yield from the sugar cane had also multiplied

ten times under scientifi c cultivation over the past century, prices bottomed out of the

world market.

The acute phase of the Great Depression, which began in 1929, was made worse by

this chronic background of global agricultural distress, because there was no reserve of

purchasing power on the farms. The farmer’s plight became even worse when city peo-

ple, struck by depression in industry, cut down their expenditures for food. Agricultural

depression, rather than industrial depression, was at the root of widespread troubles in the

inter-war years throughout eastern Europe and the colonial world.

The Crash of 1929 and the Spread of Economic Crisis

The Depression, in the strict sense, began as a stock market and fi nancial crisis. Prices of

stocks had been pushed upward by years of continuing expansion and high dividends. At

the beginning of 1929 prices on the European stock exchanges began to weaken. But the

real crisis, or turning point, came with the crash on the New York Stock Exchange in Octo-

ber 1929. Here values had been driven to fantastic heights by excessive speculation. Not

only professional speculators, but quite ordinary people bought stock with borrowed funds.

Often trading on “margin,” they “owned” fi ve or ten times as much stock as the amount of

their own money put into it; the rest they borrowed from brokers, and the brokers bor-

rowed from banks, the purchased stock in each case serving as collateral. With money so

easy to obtain, people pushed up American stock prices by bidding against each other and

enjoyed huge fortunes on paper; but if prices fell, even a little, the hapless owners would

be obliged to sell their stock to pay off the money they had borrowed. Hence the weaken-

ing of values on the New York Stock Exchange set off uncontrollable tidal waves of sell-

ing, which drove stock prices down irresistibly and disastrously. In a month stock values

dropped by 40 percent, and in three years, from 1929 to 1932, the average value of 50

industrial stocks traded on the New York Stock Exchange dropped from 252 to 61. In these

same three years 5,000 American banks closed their doors.

The crisis passed from fi nance to industry and from the United States

into Europe and the rest of the world. The export of American capital came

to an end. Americans not only ceased to invest in Europe but sold the for-

eign securities that they had. This pulled the foundations from under the

postwar revival of Germany and hence indirectly of much of Europe. Americans, their

incomes falling, ceased to buy foreign goods; people in Europe saw their American mar-

kets slip away, and prices tumbled. In 1931 the failure of a leading Vienna bank, the Credi- tanstalt, sent a wave of shivers, bankruptcies, and business calamities over Europe. Everywhere business fi rms and private people could not collect what was owed them or

even draw on money that they thought they had in the bank. They could not buy, and so the

factories could not sell. Factories slowed down or closed entirely. Between 1929 and 1932,

the latter year representing the depth of the Depression, world production is estimated to

have declined by 38 percent, and the world’s international trade fell by two-thirds. In the

United States national income fell from $85 billion to $37 billion.

Unemployment, a chronic disease ever since the Great War, assumed

the proportion of a plague. In 1932 there were 30 million unemployed per-

sons reported in the world; and this fi gure did not include the further mil-

lions who could fi nd work only for a few hours in the week, or the masses in Asia or

Crisis reaches the rest

of the world

Unemployment

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Chapter 19 Democracy, Anti-Imperialism, and the Economic Crisis after the First World War806

Africa for whom no statistics were to be had. The worker’s wages were gone, the farmer’s

income touched bottom; and the decline of mass purchasing power forced more idleness of

machinery and more unemployment. People in the prime of life spent years out of work.

Young people could not fi nd jobs or establish themselves in an occupation. Skills and

talents of older people grew rusty. Millions were reduced to living and supporting their

families on the pittances of charity, doles, or relief. Great modern cities saw an outburst of

sidewalk art, in which jobless able-bodied men drew pictures on the pavement with col-

ored chalk, in the hope of attracting a few sixpence or dimes. People were crushed in spirit

by a feeling of uselessness; months and years of fruitless job hunting left them demoral-

ized, bored, embittered, and resentful. Never had there been such waste, not merely of

machinery that now stood idle but also of the trained and disciplined labor force on which

all modern societies were built. And people chronically out of work turned to new and

disturbing political ideas.

Political and Economic Reactions to the Crisis

Optimists at the time, of whom President Herbert Hoover in the United States was one,

declared that this Depression, though a severe one, was basically only another periodic

low point in the business cycle, or alternation of expansion and contraction, which had

ebbed and fl owed in the Western world for over a century. Prosperity, they blithely said,

was “just around the corner.” Others came to believe that the crisis represented the break-

down of the whole system of capitalism and free private enterprise. These people in many

cases looked for signs of the future in the planned economy then being introduced in

the U.S.S.R. There was some truth in both views. After 1932, in part for purely cyclical

reasons—because the Depression cut down indebtedness and reduced the costs of doing

business—it again became possible to produce and sell. World steel production, for exam-

ple, which had stood at 121 million tons in 1929, and then collapsed to 50 million in 1932,

by 1936 again reached 122 million. To a considerable degree, to be sure, revival was due

to rearmament, especially in Europe. On the other hand, the Great Depression did put an

end to some aspects of the older free-market economic system. Even if such a stricken

economy had internal powers of full recuperation, people would not stand for such ter-

rifying insecurity in their personal lives. The horrors of mass unemployment were long

remembered.

All governments took new steps to provide work and incomes for their people. All in

one way or another strove to free themselves from dependency on the uncertainties of the

world market. The interlocking world economy collapsed both from the Depression itself

and from the measures adopted to cure it. One of the most marked economic conse-

quences of the Depression was a strong movement toward economic nationalism—toward

greater self-suffi ciency within the sphere that each government could hope

to control.

The internationalism of money, the gold standard, and the free convert-

ibility of currencies were gradually abandoned. Countries specializing in

agricultural exports were among the fi rst to be pinched. Agricultural prices were so low

that even a large quantity of exports failed to produce enough foreign currency to pay

for needed imports; hence the exporting country’s currency fell in value. The currencies

of Argentina, Uruguay, Chile, Australia, and New Zealand all depreciated in 1929 and

1930. Then came the turn of the industrial countries. England, also, as the Depression

went on, could not sell enough exports to pay for imports. It had to pay for imports in part

Economic nationalism

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80796. The Great Depression: Collapse of the World Economy

by sending gold out of the country; thus the gold reserve supporting the pound sterling

declined, and people who had pounds sterling began to convert their pounds into dol-

lars or other currencies for which they thought the gold basis was more secure. This was

known, in the poetic language of economics, as the “fl ight from the pound.” In 1931 Great

Britain went off the gold standard, which is to say that it devalued the pound. But after

Britain devalued, some 20 odd other countries, to protect their own exports and their own

industries, did the same. Hence somewhat the same relative position reappeared. Even the

United States, which possessed most of the world’s gold supply, renounced the gold stan-

dard and devalued the dollar in 1934. The purpose was mainly to help American farmers;

with dollars cheaper in terms of foreign currencies, foreigners could afford to buy more

American agricultural products. But it became harder for Europeans and other foreigners

to sell to the United States.

Rising unemployment in Depression-era Britain led to widespread protests such as this “Hun- ger March.” Unemployed workers demanded more access to the government assistance that helped impoverished people buy food. (Keystone/Hulton Archive/Getty Images)

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Chapter 19 Democracy, Anti-Imperialism, and the Economic Crisis after the First World War808

Hence the Depression, adding its effects to those of the World War and

postwar infl ation, led to chaos in the international monetary exchanges.

Governments manipulated their currencies to uphold their sagging exports.

Or they imposed exchange controls, which required that foreigners from

whom their own people purchased, and to whom they gave their own cur-

rency, should use this currency to buy from them in return. Trade, which had been multilat-

eral, became increasingly bilateral. Sometimes, notably in the relations between Germany

and eastern European countries in the 1930s, bilateralism degenerated into actual barter.

The Germans would exchange a certain number of cameras with Yugoslavia in return for a

certain number of pigs. In such cases the very conception of a market disappeared.

Currency control was one means of keeping one’s own factories from idleness by

holding or capturing export markets in time of depression. Another way of keeping one’s

own factories going was to shut out competitive imports by the old device of protective

tariffs. The United States enacted the unprecedentedly high Hawley-Smoot tariff in 1930,

which soon contributed to the further decline of international trade. Other countries,

equally or more distressed, now could sell less to America and hence buy fewer American

goods. Other countries likewise raised their own tariffs in the desperate hope of reserving

national markets for their own people. Even Great Britain, citadel of free trade in the nine-

teenth century, turned to protectionism. It also revived and adopted Joseph Chamberlain’s

old idea of an imperial tariff union. In 1932, by the Ottawa agreements, Britain and the

British dominions adopted a policy of lower tariffs against one another and higher tariffs

against the rest of the world.

Even tariffs were not always enough for economic nationalists. Quo-

tas or quantitative restrictions were adopted in many nations. By this

system a government said in effect not merely that goods brought into

the country must pay a high tariff duty but that above a certain amount

no goods could be brought in at all. Increasingly both importers and exporters worked

under government licenses, in order that a country’s entire foreign trade could be centrally

planned and managed.

Thus the world economy disintegrated into fi ercely competing national economic sys-

tems. In the oceanic wreckage of the Great Depression, each state tried to create an island

of economic security for its own people. Some efforts were made to break down the ris-

ing barriers. An International Monetary and Economic Conference, meeting in London

in 1933, attempted to open the clogged channels of world trade; it ended in failure, as did

attempts to stabilize the exchange rates of various currencies. Soon thereafter, the wartime

Allies defaulted on their postwar debt payments to the United States. Legislation in Con-

gress then denied them the right to fl oat bonds or obtain new loans in the American secu-

rities market. American actions thus reinforced economic nationalism. The era that had

opened with Woodrow Wilson’s dream of international economic cooperation was ending

with an unprecedented intensifi cation of economic rivalry and national self-centeredness;

it was only one of the promises of the postwar world to be blasted by the Great Depression.

Cultural Reactions to the Crisis

The effects of the economic crisis spread to the cultural and intellectual life of the 1930s.

Responding to the despair and social dislocation of the masses of unemployed, artists and

writers turned to describing painful social realities and committed themselves to political

activism.

International

monetary exchanges

in chaos

Quotas

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80996. The Great Depression: Collapse of the World Economy

AUTOUR D’ELLE by Marc Chagall (Russian, then French, 1887–1984)

Although this painting clearly does not represent the social realism that emerged in the 1930s, it exemplifi es the diversity of twentieth-century art. It was painted by Chagall in 1945 in mem- ory of his wife. At the center is the Russian city of Smolensk, where they had been married 30 years before. The surrounding faces and fi gures are individually quite distinct, but they fl oat disconnectedly like the vivid images in a dream. Past and present, memory and percep- tion, fantastic and real objects fl ow together in a free play of the unconscious mind. These qualities characterized surrealism, of which the younger Chagall had been a forerunner. (Scala/Art Resource, NY)

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Chapter 19 Democracy, Anti-Imperialism, and the Economic Crisis after the First World War810

All this was in contrast to the 1920s. The postwar decade had been

a period of great achievement in what is generally called “modernist” art

and literature. Painters projected disjointed dreamlike scenes evoking their

personal memories or disorienting personal experiences, and writers emphasized their own

personal vision and the innermost lives of the characters whom they depicted. These writ-

ers were responsible for remarkable explorations of memory, time, and the internal work-

ings of the human mind. The Irish writer James Joyce published his famous novel Ulysses portraying the life and thoughts of its leading character during a single day in Dublin,

contributing with it to a new literary fascination with interior monologues and “stream

of consciousness” writing. The French novelist Marcel Proust also developed lengthy

descriptions of personal and emotional experiences in his multivolume Remembrance of Things Past, and the English writer Virginia Woolf examined the complex passage of time through the characters she created in novels such as To the Lighthouse. A generation of American writers, including Gertrude Stein and Ernest Hemingway, had even settled in

Paris after the First World War to pursue experimental forms of literature and art. The

political and social world by no means disappeared from modernist literature, but these

writers were more concerned with exploring the inner complexities of human psychology,

partly in response to the horrors of the First World War.

Now, under the harsh economic conditions of the 1930s, it became common to reject

the literary exploration of psychological anxieties as inadequate or even as self-indulgent.

A new kind of “realist” literature and a literature of political engagement won support

from intellectuals in all industrial societies, especially among those who believed that the

Great Depression had grown out of fundamental fl aws and injustices in the capitalist econ-

omy. Some writers, like the French novelist André Gide, as well as some poets, artists, and

fi lm-makers, temporarily embraced communism and praised the social experiments of the

Soviet Union. Others simply decided that they should set aside the arcane language of the

literary avant-garde and write about the social suffering of the day. A new genre of prole-

tarian literature came into being. Many of the American expatriates who had settled in

Paris to pursue avant-garde art or literature returned to the United States in the early 1930s.

As the American critic Malcolm Cowley noted in his Exile’s Return, the new social prob- lems called for new kinds of writing. Joyce’s Ulysses was a classic modernist work of the 1920s, but the literary style of high Modernism gave way to a new kind of “social litera-

ture” and nonfi ction in the 1930s. A younger generation of socially conscious authors,

such as the English writer George Orwell, published Depression-era books that focused on

poverty and the economic realities of daily life. Describing his own encounters with

impoverished living conditions in Down and Out in Paris and London (1933) and The Road to Wigan Pier (1937), Orwell emphasized the “real world” social experiences of people who struggled simply to survive. His themes and those elaborated by others exem-

plifi ed the social and cultural anxiety that affected Europeans of all social classes in the

wake of the unprecedented economic crisis. Meanwhile, the anxiety that fostered a new

literary and artistic “realism” also contributed in very different ways to the

rise of an angry political extremism, which, as we shall see, was now

attracting new support among disillusioned and displaced people in every

part of Europe and the wider Atlantic world.

Realism and

extremism

For suggested further readings and useful Web sites, interactive exercises, glossary, chronologies,

and more, go to the Online Learning Center at www.mhhe.com/palmerhistory11e .

Modernism

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811

C h a p t e r 20 DEMOCRACY

AND DICTATORSHIP

IN THE 1930S

In the 1920s   many people believed, or hoped, that despite the horrors of the World War, Europe

was again moving toward the material and politi-

cal goals summed up in the idea of progress. In

the 1930s they began to fear that “progress” was a

phantom, to speak the word self-consciously with

mental quotation marks, and to be content if only

they could prevent a relapse into positive barba-

rism and a new world war.

The Great Depression ushered in the nightmare of the 1930s. Everywhere the demand

was for security. Each nation tried to live, insofar as possible, within itself. Each regulated,

controlled, guided, planned, and tried to rescue its own economic system, attempting to

be as little infl uenced as possible by the unpredictable behavior of other countries. Within

each country the same search for security encouraged the advancement of the welfare state

and social democracy.

Where democratic institutions were strong and resilient, governments took steps to

protect individuals against the ravages of unemployment and destitution and to help guard

against future catastrophes. This political response to the economic crisis shaped new dem-

ocratic social reforms in northwestern Europe and in the United States, where President

Franklin Roosevelt’s “New Deal” legislation brought numerous European-style social

welfare policies into American society. On the other hand, where democratic govern-

ments were not well established or taken for granted, which was the case in many coun-

tries after the First World War, dictatorship spread alarmingly in the 1930s with the coming

of the Depression. Democracy was said to be suited only to wealthy or prosperous coun-

tries. Unemployed people generally cared far more for economic help or for promises of

economic help than for any theory of how persons wielding public power should be selected.

The cry was for a leader, someone who would act, make decisions, get results, inspire con-

fi dence, and restore national pride. The Great Depression opened the way for unscrupulous

and ambitious political adventurers, for dictators like Adolf Hitler in Germany, whose solu-

tion to all political and international problems, it turned out, was war.

97. Trials and Adjustments

of Democracy in Britain

and France

98. Italian Fascism

99. Totalitarianism:

Germany’s Third Reich

Chapter emblem: Benito Mussolini addressing a Fascist meeting in Italy in 1932. (Keystone/Getty Images)

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Chapter 20 Democracy and Dictatorship in the 1930s812

97. TRIALS AND ADJUSTMENTS OF DEMOCRACY IN BRITAIN AND FRANCE

British Politics: The 1920s and the Depression

Britain, like the United States, even in the troubles of the Depression, remained fi rmly

attached to representative institutions and democratic principles. The Great Depression

aggravated and intensifi ed Britain’s older economic diffi culties. More dependent on over-

seas markets than any other people, the British until 1914 had managed to hold their

lead, exporting industrial products and investment capital, selling insurance and other ser-

vices, and importing foodstuffs. But in the years before 1914 the British were increasingly

losing markets because of the emergence of other economically aggressive industrial

nations, the growth of tariff barriers, the development of indigenous textile and other indus-

tries in India and elsewhere in Asia, the competition of new textile products with British

cottons and woolens, and the substitution of new sources of fuel for British coal. The losses

were accelerated by the economic disruption of the First World War, the disappearance of

many overseas investments, and the postwar disorganization and impoverishment of mar-

kets. The widespread rise in tariffs after the war and the customs barriers in the new small

states of Europe also hurt British exports. After 1918 Britain lived in a world no longer

dependent on, or eager for, its manufactures. Britain’s very historical primacy as the pio-

neer industrial country was also a handicap. Both labor and management had become

adjusted to older conditions, and the more recently industrialized countries had newer tech-

niques and machinery.

The net result of all this was that in the interwar years, even in times of relative prosper-

ity for the rest of the world, Britain was in Depression and suffered severely

from unemployment. The unemployment insurance adopted in 1911 was

called heavily into play. By 1921 over 2 million unemployed were receiving

benefi t payments, contemptuously called the “dole” by those who disliked

it. Unemployment insurance, an expanded old-age pension system, medical

aid, government-subsidized housing, and other social welfare measures helped to relieve

economic distress and to prevent any drastic decline in the living standards of British work-

ers. The welfare state was well established in Britain before the Labour Party took offi ce

after the Second World War.

The labor unions made a strenuous effort to retain wage gains and other concessions

won in wartime. Industry, hard-pressed itself, resisted. This situation reached a climax in

1926 in the coal-mining industry, which was in a particularly bad plight; government sub-

sidies had not helped and even conservative investigators had recommended some form of

amalgamation and public management. A strike by the coal miners led to a “general strike”

supported by the other British unions; about half of the 6 million organized workers in

Britain left their jobs as a token of sympathy and solidarity. But the government declared a

state of emergency and made use of army and navy personnel and middle-class volunteers

to take over essential services. The strike ended in failure, and even in a setback for the

trade unions. They were put under stricter control by the Trades Disputes Act of 1927,

which declared all general or sympathy strikes illegal and even forbade the unions from

raising money for political purposes.

After the election of 1922, the Labour Party displaced the Liberal Party

as the second of the two great parties of the country and faced the Conserva-

tives as the offi cial opposition. The Labour Party, which had been no more

than a loose federation of trade union and socialist organizations before the

Unemployment

insurance

The Labour Party

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81397. Trials and Adjustments of Democracy in Britain and France

war, tightened its organizational structure, promoted labor legislation, and, bridging the

gap between the trade unionists and the socialists, committed itself to a program of social-

ism. But it was a program of gradualist, democratic socialism operating through customary

British parliamentary procedures and hence able to gain the goodwill of large sections of

the middle classes.

Twice, in 1924 and in 1929, Labour governed the country with Ramsay MacDonald

as prime minister, in each case as a coalition government. In 1924 Labour demonstrated

its moderation. It did no more than extend unemployment relief and inaugurate housing

and public works projects; indeed it acted fi rmly in the face of strikes that broke out. But it

aroused opposition when it gave diplomatic recognition to the Soviet Union and pledged a

loan to the Soviets for the purchase of British goods. Meanwhile newspapers published the

so-called Red (or Zinoviev) letter purporting to be secret instructions from the head of the

Communist International for British Labour groups to prepare for a Communist uprising

in Britain. The document’s authenticity has never been established, but the Conservatives

successfully exploited it and won the election of 1924.

In the election of May 1929, however, Labour’s representation almost doubled, and

the Conservative representation dropped proportionately. MacDonald again became prime

minister. The Wall Street crash and the worldwide Depression came while the Labour

Party government was in offi ce. The effects of the Depression were quickly felt. Unem-

ployment, which had hovered about the 1 million mark in 1929, soon approached the

3 million fi gure. The government expended large sums to supplement the unemployment

insurance payments, and the public debt began to grow. Alarmed by the mounting defi cit,

The British coal miners’ strike in 1926 generated a massive “general strike” by sympathetic workers throughout Britain. These striking engineers marched across London to show their solidarity with the miners, but the government soon responded to this broad-based labor action with legislation that made all such sympathy strikes illegal. (G. Adams/Topical Press Agency/Getty Images)

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Chapter 20 Democracy and Dictatorship in the 1930s814

MacDonald made plans to introduce a severe retrenchment policy, even to the extent of

reducing the dole payments. The Labour Party was outraged; some of the Labour ministers

in his cabinet refused to support him.

Critics such as the British economist John Maynard Keynes argued that the govern-

ment’s defi cit spending was in fact essential for economic recovery. Keynes had begun to

put forward this view of government expenditures even before the Great Depression struck,

and he would soon bring his theories together in his most famous book, The General Theory of Employment, Interest, and Money (1936). In this book and other writings, Keynes argued that if private investment funds were idle, govern-

ment funds must be employed to encourage or stimulate economic activity

and to increase purchasing power until such time as private funds fl owed

again. Governments should therefore get money into circulation and “prime the pump” of

industrial production. According to Keynes and others who criticized MacDonald’s poli-

cies, the British government should set aside old orthodoxies about the dangers of defi cit

fi nancing, because such policies were actually the most direct and rapid method for pre-

venting a more general collapse of the capitalist system. Keynes’s ideas attracted the inter-

est of some policymakers in other countries (including the United States) and later gained

wide international infl uence, but MacDonald rejected the new economic theories and

continued to promote austerity measures. He was read out of the Labour Party, along with

those ministers who had gone along with him. MacDonald thereupon

formed an all-party coalition cabinet known as the National government,

which in an election of 1931 won an overwhelming victory, but it was the

Conservative members of the coalition who took a majority of the seats

in Parliament.

The National government coped with the Depression chiefl y along retrenchment lines,

under Ramsay MacDonald from 1931 to 1935, Stanley Baldwin to 1937, and Neville

Chamberlain after 1937. In addition to retrenchment and budget balancing, the government

encouraged industry to reorganize and rationalize production by providing low-interest

loans. Mainly, the government concentrated on economic nationalist measures rather than

on fundamental changes in the capitalist economic system. Despite some recovery from

the depths of the Depression, none of the steps taken brought full recovery or full employ-

ment. Unemployment persisted until military conscription and a growing armament

program absorbed the jobless through a kind of inadvertent “Keynesian” expansion of gov-

ernment expenditures.

Britain and the Commonwealth: Imperial Relations

To the older British Empire—India, the crown colonies, protectorates, and spheres of

infl uence—the postwar settlement added a number of League of Nations mandates. British

rule in its various forms extended to almost 500 million people, a fourth of the earth’s

population and land surface. It was principally in Palestine, Egypt, India, and Ireland that

the British faced complex imperial problems after the First World War. In Palestine, where

Britain exercised a League of Nations mandate following the breakup of the Ottoman

Empire, a bitter confl ict developed as Jewish emigrants moved into the territory after 1919

(at which time there had been a relatively small population of about 570,000 Muslims,

75,000 Christians, and 60,000 Jews). The emigration increased rapidly during the 1930s,

when Jews were escaping from Nazism and the rising anti-Semitism in Europe. Arabs and

Jews began to struggle with each other and with Britain for control of lands that both

Theories of Keynes

The formation of the

National government

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815

groups claimed on the basis of long ancestries and ancient religions, infl amed now by

modern nationalisms. In Egypt in 1922, Britain, although retaining the right to station

some troops there, formally ended the protectorate it had established 40 years earlier; but

many questions, especially the status of Sudan, remained unresolved. In India the agitation

for national independence, as we have seen, grew more intense. In all of these areas, from

the Middle East to South Asia, nothing resembling a solution was developed until after the

Second World War. In Ireland, however, the independence movement fi nally managed to

establish a separate Irish state.

The Irish question had disoriented English politics for 40 years. Home

rule, authorized by Parliament in 1914, had been deferred for the duration of

the war. During the hostilities the Irish nationalists even accepted German

support and rose in rebellion against the British in 1916. The rebellion was

suppressed, but after the war the Irish nationalists, led by the Sinn Fein Party, fought a

small but savage war of independence against the British. In 1922 the British fi nally recog-

nized the Irish Free State, granting it dominion status within the British Commonwealth.

But the Protestants in Ulster, the northern counties of Ireland where Presbyterians of

Scottish origin had lived for three centuries and where they comprised a majority of the

population, insisted on remaining outside the new state. Despite the vehement dissatisfac-

tion of Irish nationalists, Ulster continued to be part of what was now called the United

Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland. In 1937 the Irish Free State affi rmed its

full sovereignty and took the name Eire. In 1949 it broke all ties with the British Common-

wealth and renamed itself the Republic of Ireland. The Irish question, however, remained

unsettled throughout the rest of the century and beyond because the Irish agitated for the

annexation of Ulster. The confl ict pitted Irish moderates against Irish extremists, the latter

perpetrating assassinations, bombings, and other disturbances to further their cause of unit-

ing all Ireland with the Irish Republic. The Protestants in Ulster meanwhile remained obdu-

rate about retaining their own religious and cultural identity and maintaining their political

affi liation with Britain.

As for the dominions, the political status of these areas of European

settlement overseas was now more clearly defi ned than ever before. The

dominions—Canada, Australia, New Zealand, and the Union of South

Africa—had long pursued their own independent policies, even levying

tariffs against British goods. They had all joined loyally with Great Britain in the First

World War, but all were stirred by a nationalism of their own and desired their indepen-

dence to be regularized and promulgated to the world. An imperial conference in 1926

defi ned “dominion status,” which was then corroborated by the Statute of Westminster

of 1931. The dominions became legally equal with each other and with Great Britain.

No act passed by the British Parliament would apply to a dominion except by the domin-

ion’s own consent. Despite independent policies in economic matters and even in foreign

affairs, the bonds between the dominions and Britain remained fi rm; the support of the

dominions in the Second World War was to be vital in Britain’s survival. In the postwar

world, with decolonization, the Commonwealth became a larger, more heterogeneous,

and even more fl exible institution.

France: The 1920s and the Coming of the Depression

When the Depression came to France, right-wing agitation of fascist type made more

headway than in Britain or the United States. Earlier, in the 1920s, France was preoccupied

The Irish question

The dominions

97. Trials and Adjustments of Democracy in Britain and France

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Chapter 20 Democracy and Dictatorship in the 1930s816

with recovery from the physical destruction of the war, the instability of public fi nances,

and the fear of a resurgent Germany. Immediately after 1919, and for most of the 1920s,

the government was run by coalitions of parties of the conservative Right, that is, parties

supported by business and fi nancial interests, well disposed toward the army and church,

and determined to maintain the traditional order in domestic affairs. In contrast to Britain,

Germany, and the United States, for example, France continued to exclude women from

the right to vote. For a brief time, from 1924 to 1926, the Radical Socialists were in con-

trol; this party of the moderate left, whose leader was Edouard Herriot, served as spokes-

man for the lower classes, small business, and farmers; it advocated progressive social

legislation but only so long as increased taxes were not necessary. Despite its name, a

carryover from an earlier era, it was fi rmly committed to private enterprise and private

property (and was often described as “neither radical nor socialist”); it was staunch in its

defense of individual liberties and fervently anticlerical; sometimes, it seemed, its anti-

clericalism was a substitute for a more positive legislative program.

Although the Radical Socialists cooperated in parliamentary elections with the Social-

ists, the other major party of the Left, the two parties differed too profoundly on economic

policies to preserve stable coalitions. In the 1920s the Socialists were still recovering from

the secession of the more orthodox Marxists who had formed a French Communist Party.

Both Left and Right in France shaded off into antidemocratic groups that were hostile to

the parliamentary republic. These included the Communists on the

Left, who sat in Parliament and took part in elections; and on the extreme

Right, royalists of the Action Française and other antirepublican organiza- tions, which operated principally outside the Chamber as militant and noisy

pressure groups.

The outstanding fi gure of the moderate conservative right was

Raymond Poincaré, who sent troops into the Ruhr in 1923 when the

Germans failed to pay reparations, and who also “saved” the franc. The rep-

arations question was extremely important for French fi nances. The coun-

try had undertaken a large-scale reconstruction program to repair the wartime devastation

of northern and eastern France and had counted upon the defeated enemy to pay. When

German reparations were not paid as anticipated, the public debt mounted, a balanced

budget became impossible, and the franc declined precipitously. The huge war expendi-

tures, heavy loss of foreign investments, notably in Russia, and an outmoded taxation pro-

gram that invited widespread evasion added to French diffi culties. After 1926, when the

fi nancial crisis reached a climax, a “national union” ministry under Poincaré inaugurated

new taxes, tightened tax collection, cut down drastically on government expenditures

to balance the budget, and eventually stabilized the franc—at about one-fi fth its prewar

value. The internal debt was thus in effect largely repudiated, to the despair of many bond-

holders, but the threat of a runaway infl ation like that of Germany’s Weimar Republic was

avoided. From 1926 to 1929 France prospered. New factories, replacing those destroyed

in the war, were modern and up to date. The index of industrial production rose; tourists

fl ocked in. As in many other countries, however, workers did not share proportionately in

the prosperity of the 1920s, and labor unions still had little infl uence on the French gov-

ernment’s social policies.

The Great Depression came later to France and was less severe than in the United

States or Germany. Trade declined. Unemployment increased; in 1935, close to 1 million

workers were unemployed, and half of those employed worked part-time. Industrial produc-

tion, which in 1930 was 40 percent above the prewar level, sank by 1932 to 1913 fi gures.

Hostility to the

republic

Poincaré ’s measures

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817

The government displayed its older pattern of unstable, short-lived ministries; in 1933

fi ve ministries rapidly succeeded one another (there were some 40 in the 20 interwar years).

The Depression-era cabinets followed a policy of retrenchment and economy, clung to the

gold standard, and faced the threat of an aggressive new government in Germany, where

Adolf Hitler had become chancellor in 1933.

97. Trials and Adjustments of Democracy in Britain and France

Britain repeatedly used its armed forces to suppress the movement for Irish independence dur- ing and after the First World War. The British army thus operated in Ireland’s cities as a kind of special police force. These troops were holding back the crowd in a Dublin street while other soldiers conducted a raid on Irish nationalists in 1921—shortly before the Irish Free State was fi nally established. (Hulton Archive/Getty Images)

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Chapter 20 Democracy and Dictatorship in the 1930s818

Depression Ferment and the Popular Front

In the uneasy years of the Great Depression, the latent right-wing hostility to the repub-

lic came to the surface. Fascist-type “leagues” appeared in open imitation of Italian and

German fascist organizations, many obtaining funds from wealthy industrialists; the older

Action Française and right-wing veterans’ associations like Colonel de le Rocque’s Croix de Feu continued to be active. The same elements that had been antirepublican, antidemo- cratic, or monarchist since the French Revolution, and that in the nineteenth century had

rallied behind Boulanger and denounced Dreyfus, now grew more strident in their attacks

on the parliamentary republic.

In 1934 it seemed for a moment that the opportunity awaited by the antirepublican ele-

ments had come. A political and fi nancial scandal shook the country. A fi nancial manipula-

tor and adventurer with important political connections, Serge Alexandre Stavisky, induced

the municipal authorities at Bayonne to launch a fl otation of worthless bonds. Faced with

Although the Great Depression was at fi rst less severe in France than in other European coun- tries, rising unemployment eventually contributed to a new political mobilization of French workers. The Popular Front government that came to power in 1936 thus enacted legislation to support collective bargaining and to establish a 40-hour week for people like these workers at a Parisian subway construction site. (Imagno/Getty Images)

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819

exposure, he fl ed and apparently committed suicide; the sensationalist press and right-wing

political agitators encouraged the rumor that Stavisky had been shot by the police to pre-

vent the implication of high-ranking politicians. A clamor went up accusing the govern-

ment of involvement in the fi nancial scandal. Where elsewhere such an

affair would have called only for turning the incumbents out of offi ce, in

France it supplied ammunition for those who demanded the end of the

republic itself, which they now equated with corruption and venality.

The agitation reached a climax in street riots in February 1934. A crowd of angry

antirepublican activists and other right-wing extremists assembled in Paris at the Place

de la Concorde, where they threatened the nearby Chamber of Deputies and battled vio-

lently with the police; several were killed and hundreds were injured. French liberals and

democrats, organized labor, and socialists were outraged by the threat to the republic

from violent agitators who resembled the fascist groups that had seized power elsewhere

in Europe. The Communists, hostile to the fascist groups, were unfriendly to the govern-

ment too, but soon, guided by the Comintern, they sensed the danger to the Soviet Union

in the event of a French fascist triumph and joined with the antifascists. As elsewhere, in

the 1930s the Communists emerged from their sectarian revolutionary isolation, adopted

patriotic programs, and widened their prestige, infl uence, and appeal. An impressive

labor-sponsored general strike was held a week after the riots. Shortly thereafter, Radical

Socialists, Socialists, and Communists drew together in a political coali-

tion that came to be known as the Popular Front, of the kind that was being

organized, or advocated, in many countries in the 1930s. It campaigned on

a pledge to defend the republic against fascism, to take measures against

the Depression, and to introduce labor reforms. In the spring of 1936 the

Popular Front won a decisive victory at the polls. The French Socialists for the fi rst

time in their history became the leading party in the Chamber; their chief, Léon Blum,

long a spokesman for democratic and reformist socialism, became premier of a coalition

cabinet of Socialists and Radical Socialists; the Communists, who had increased their

representation in the Chamber from 10 to 72 seats, did not join the cabinet but pledged

their support.

Scandals

The emergence of the

Popular Front

The French Popular Front brought the leftist, antifas- cist political parties together in a governing coalition that held power for about a year in 1936–1937. Despite its brevity, the Popular Front government introduced numerous reforms that became permanent fea- tures of French social and eco- nomic life. This photograph shows Premier Léon Blum addressing supporters of the Popular Front on Bastille Day in 1936. (akg-images/Newscom)

97. Trials and Adjustments of Democracy in Britain and France

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Chapter 20 Democracy and Dictatorship in the 1930s820

The Popular Front and After

Blum’s Popular Front ministry, although it lasted little more than a year, put through a

program of far-reaching legislation. In part, this was due to the Popular Front election pro-

gram, in part to unforeseen events, for the tremendous enthusiasm generated by the victory

led to a spontaneous nationwide wave of “sit-down strikes,” in which the striking workers

refused to leave their factories or shops until Blum pledged a number of immediate reforms.

Parliament in short order passed laws providing for a 40-hour week, vacations with

pay, and a collective bargaining law. The encouragement given to collective bargaining led

to the nationwide signing of collective labor contracts for the fi rst time in the country’s his-

tory and to enormous growth in trade union membership, from about 1 million to 5 million

in a year’s time. Other legislation was important too. Steps were taken to nationalize the

armaments and aviation industry; the fascist armed leagues were, at least in theory, dis-

solved; the Bank of France was reorganized and placed under government control to break

the power of the nation’s close-knit economic elite, the so-called “two hundred families.”

Machinery was established for the arbitration of labor disputes. Aid was given to farmers

through price fi xing and government purchases of wheat. All these measures aimed at both

recovery and reform. Blum spoke openly of his program as a “French New

Deal,” thus suggesting that the actions of the Popular Front were similar

to President Roosevelt’s social reforms in the United States. But French

conservatives, and the quasi-fascists to their Right, cried revolution; they

uttered dark predictions that a French Lenin would follow Blum. They did

not conceal their sullen resentment at what had come to pass: the fate of Catholic France in

the hands of a leftist, a Socialist, and a Jew. Even salvation by a warrior from outside the

country, one who had demonstrated his anti-Bolshevism, would be preferable. They envied

the protection given to established interests by Mussolini, and there were those who, it was

said, even muttered “better Hitler than Léon Blum.”

The Popular Front reforms, long overdue though they were, came to France at a time

when the sands were rapidly running out. While France had a 40-hour week, German arms

plants were operating at full capacity. In the shadow of Nazi remilitarization a rearmament

program had to be undertaken at the very same time as reform; even moderates argued that

the country could not afford both. Opposition from many quarters hindered success. French

employers balked at cooperating in the new labor reforms and tried to pass on rising pro-

duction costs to consumers. Labor was disgruntled at the price rises that canceled out its

wage gains. Both employers and labor applied the 40-hour week in such a manner that

plants were shut down for two days a week instead of operating in shifts, as the law had

made possible. Nothing could check the fl ight of gold from the country. Industrial produc-

tion hardly rose; even in 1938, when it had shown substantial recovery in other countries,

it was only 5 percent higher in France than at the depth of the Depression.

In July 1936 the Spanish Civil War had broken out. The Communists

attacked the Blum government for refusing aid to the hard-pressed Span-

ish Popular Front government, which was fi ghting fascist forces across the

Pyrenees; Blum, following the lead of Britain and fearful also of involving

a divided France, resisted. In 1937, after a year in offi ce, the Blum govern-

ment was overthrown by the Senate, which refused to grant it emergency fi nancial pow-

ers. The Popular Front coalition rapidly disintegrated. By mid-1938 the Radical Socialists

had abandoned their allies on the Left and under Edouard Daladier formed a conserva-

tive ministry, whose attention was increasingly occupied by the international crisis. Little

remained of the Popular Front, or indeed of the strength of labor, which declined rapidly

Overdue measures for

reform and recovery

The overthrow of

Blum’s government

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82198. Italian Fascism

and exhausted itself further by an unsuccessful general strike in 1938 in protest against

nullifi cation of the 40-hour week. Although the conservative government did not overturn

all of the recent social reforms, French workers found that 1936 had gone the way of other

“great years” in French history; the comfortable classes had been thrown into panic by

the social turmoil; internal division and class hatreds had grown sharper. Yet the French

democracy, the Third Republic itself, had been successfully preserved and its domestic

enemies repulsed, at least for a time.

Western Europe and the Depression

Britain and France, and indeed all western Europe, Europe’s inner zone, never fully recov-

ered from the Great Depression before the Second World War. When economic expansion

resumed after the war, the interwar years seemed like a deep trough in Europe’s economic

history. Western Europe barely maintained its old industrial equipment in the Depression

and was unable to utilize even its existing machinery to capacity. Moreover, as the events

of 1929 had clearly shown, Europe’s economic dependence on the United States was pro-

nounced, and the U.S.S.R. was becoming an industrial giant. The economic destiny of

Europeans in the 1930s was very much in doubt.

There were other signs of decline. The birth rate in western Europe in

the 1930s fell to its lowest recorded levels as people postponed marriage

or limited the size of their families because of economic and psychologi-

cal stresses. Birth rates did not run signifi cantly higher than death rates; the population

was stagnating and growing older. There was a scarcity of middle-age men because of the

casualties of the First World War. Politically neither British nor French democratic political

leaders were able to cope with the economic dilemmas of the Depression era. Nor could the

Socialists, who found little practical guidance in the ideas of Marxian economics or class

struggle, but failed to renew or reinvigorate their own doctrines in any signifi cant way.

98. ITALIAN FASCISM

Though they shade into each other imperceptibly, it is possible to distinguish dictator-

ship from totalitarianism. Dictatorship, an old phenomenon in history, has commonly been

regarded as a mere expedient, designed for emergencies and believed to be temporary; at

most, it is a theory of government to justify the authoritarian exercise of state power. Total-

itarianism, as it arose after the First World War, was not merely a theory of government

but a theory of life and of human nature. It claimed to be no expedient but a permanent

form of society and civilization, and insofar as it appealed to emergency for justifi cation, it

regarded life itself as an everlasting emergency. This new kind of totalitarianism, when it

emerged in western Europe, came from the political Right and carried signifi cant theoreti-

cal differences from Russian Communism—which it vehemently rejected and yet in its

repressive methods, its cult of the leader, and its one-party rule it often resembled. The fi rst

of the new right-wing totalitarian movements to seize power in Europe appeared somewhat

unexpectedly in Italy in the form of fascism.

Mussolini and the Fascist Seizure of Power

The belief widely held in the 1920s that democracy was generally advancing was not deeply

disturbed by the failure of Russia or Turkey or China to develop effective parliaments or

liberal institutions. Most Europeans regarded these regions as “backward” countries, in the

Other signs of decline

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Chapter 20 Democracy and Dictatorship in the 1930s822

throes of revolution; someday, when conditions quieted down, it could be supposed, they

would move forward to democracy as known in Europe. I taly thus became a jarring excep-

tion to the apparent victory of democracy in western societies because the Italians had

always been an integral part of Europe and European history. Although Italy had accepted

parliamentary liberalism and other democratic institutions since 1861, Benito Mussolini

seized control of the Italian government in 1921 and proclaimed the new

ruling ideology and political system of Fascismo. Mussolini, born in 1883, the son of a blacksmith, was a fi ery and pug-

nacious character, who before the war had followed the career of profes-

sional revolutionary, left-wing socialist, and radical journalist. He had read

and digested Marxist writings but also works such as Sorel’s Refl ections on Violence and the writings of Nietzsche. During the war he turned intensely nationalist, clamored for

Italian intervention on the side of the Allies, and demanded the conquest from Austria of

Italia irredenta, the “unredeemed” Italian lands to the north and across the Adriatic. In the war he served as a corporal. In March 1919 he organized, mainly from demobilized

and restless ex-soldiers, his fi rst fi ghting band, or fascio di combattimento. Fascio meant a bunch or bundle, as of sticks; it called to mind the Latin fasces, or bundle of rods, carried by the lictors in ancient Rome as a symbol of state power—for Mussolini loved to conjure

up ancient glories.

In 1919 Italian glories were dim. Italy had entered the war on the side of the Allies

quite frankly for territorial and colonial spoils; the secret treaty of London in 1915 had

promised the Italians certain Austrian lands and a share in German and Ottoman Turkish

possessions. During the war Italian arms did not especially shine; Italian troops were

routed at Caporetto in 1917. Yet Italy lost over 600,000 lives in the war, and the Italian

delegates came to the peace conference confi dent that their sacrifi ces would be recognized

and their territorial aspirations would be satisfi ed. They were rapidly disappointed. Wilson

refused to honor the provisions of the London secret treaty and other demands of the

Italians. Britain and France displayed no eagerness to side with Italy. The Italians received

some of the Austrian territories promised to them, but to their resentment they were given

no part of the former German or Ottoman Turkish possessions as mandates.

After the war Italy, like other countries, suffered from the burden

of wartime debt and from acute postwar depression and unemployment.

Social unrest spread. In the countryside land seizures took place, not in any

signifi cant proportions but enough to spread concern among landowners;

tenant farmers refused to pay rents; peasants burned crops and destroyed livestock. In the

cities great strikes broke out in heavy industry and in transportation. Some of the strikes

turned into sit-down strikes, the workers refusing to leave the plants; demands were raised

even for worker control of the factories. Moderate socialist and labor leaders disavowed

all such extremism, but left-wing socialists who, as elsewhere, had turned Communist

and joined the Third International, fanned the existing discontents. Meanwhile, armed

bands of young men, most prominent of whom were the Blackshirts or Fascists, brawled

with Communists and ordinary workers in the streets. By the late summer of 1920 the

strikes and the agrarian unrest had subsided, although violence in the streets persisted.

During the months of turmoil the government refrained from any bold action, and the

already low respect for Italy’s parliamentary system sank even lower. In 1919 the fi rst

postwar election gave impressive victories to the Socialists and a new Catholic Popular

Party (the latter were also called Christian Socialists). In 1921, in the wake of the postwar

disturbances, new elections were held. Despite concerns about the recent social turmoil,

The birth of

Fascismo

Social unrest

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823

liberals and democrats, moderate socialists, and the Catholic Popular Party were all

returned in large numbers. Mussolini’s Fascist Movement won only 35 of the 500-odd

seats. This less than impressive showing was the best the Fascists ever achieved in a free

election, but the Fascist ranks were nonetheless swelling outside the regular channels of

electoral politics—in the backwash, as it were, of the postwar unrest.

Mussolini and the Fascists at fi rst went along with the radical tide; they did not disap-

prove the factory seizures; they inveighed against plutocracy and war profi teers and called

for a high levy on capital and profi ts. But Mussolini, never one to sacrifi ce opportunity for

principles or doctrine, soon came forward with his Fascists as the upholders of national

law and order, and hence property; he now pledged battle “against the

forces dissolving victory and nation.” Although the social agitation sub-

sided, burning itself out on its own, and there had never been any real threat

of a Soviet-style revolution in Italy, the propertied classes had gone through

a great fright; they found comfort in the Fascist Movement and were will-

ing to lend it fi nancial support. Patriots and nationalists of all classes rallied to it, as well as

the lower middle class, which was pinched by economic infl ation and, as elsewhere, was

unable to fi nd protection or solace in labor unions or socialist movements. The black-

shirted upholders of national order proceeded methodically to administer beatings (and

doses of castor oil) to Communists and alleged Communists, to Socialists and Christian

Socialists, and to ordinary persons who did not support them; nor did they refrain from

Mussolini: Upholding

order and property

Fascist groups joined a “March on Rome” that sought to displace Italy’s liberal-democratic government in October 1922. Mussolini joined the March as the Blackshirts entered the capi- tal, and he is seen here (in civilian clothes) leading his Fascist followers through the city— shortly before he became prime minister in a new coalition ministry. (akg-images/Newscom)

98. Italian Fascism

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Chapter 20 Democracy and Dictatorship in the 1930s824

arson and murder. Vigilante Fascist squadrons, the squadristi, broke up strikes, demol- ished labor union headquarters, and drove from offi ce duly elected Socialist and Commu-

nist mayors and town offi cials. Mussolini nevertheless reinforced his claim as paladin of

law, authority, and order by declaring his loyalty to king and church; a few years earlier he

had been a rabid republican and anticlerical.

In October 1922 the “March on Rome” took place. The Blackshirts

mobilized for a threatened coup and began to converge from various direc-

tions on the capital; Mussolini remained at a safe distance in Milan. The

liberal-democratic coalition cabinet had viewed the events of the past two

years with disapproval but at the same time saw with satisfaction that the Blackshirts were

serving a useful national purpose by suppressing troublemakers on the Left. Now they

made belated but ineffectual gestures to save the situation by an effort to have martial law

declared, but the king refused to approve. The cabinet resigned and Mussolini was named

premier. It was all quite legal, or almost so. Indeed Italy was still in form a constitutional

and parliamentary monarchy. Mussolini headed only a coalition ministry and received

from parliament no more than a year’s grant of full emergency powers to restore order and

introduce reforms.

But soon it was clear in whose hands power rested. Before the expiration of his emer-

gency powers Mussolini forced through parliament a law providing that any party securing

the largest number of votes in an election should automatically receive two-thirds of the

seats in the legislature. The two-thirds law was not even necessary. In the 1924 elections,

although seven opposition slates appeared, the Fascists, aided by control of the electoral

machinery and the use of squadristi, received well over three-fi fths of the total vote.

The “March on

Rome”

Benito Mussolini liked to por- tray his Fascist regime in Italy as a restoration of the power and grandeur of ancient Rome. Speaking here at a Fascist rally in 1932 and surrounded by uniformed followers as well as symbols of the Roman Empire, Mussolini struck a character- istic stance to convey a public image of decisive, powerful leadership in the authoritarian Italian state. (Keystone/Getty Images)

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825

After the e lections of 1924 the highly respected Socialist deputy Giacomo Matteotti

publicly exposed hundreds of cases of armed Fascist violence, fraud, and

chicanery. He was murdered by Fascists. There was widespread indignation

in the country, and the press clamored for Mussolini’s resignation. The left

and centrist parties, in an act that proved to be a serious miscalculation,

withdrew in protest from the Chamber, wanting to have nothing to do with such a govern-

ment. Mussolini, not directly involved in the assassination, expressed a willingness to pun-

ish the perpetrators but eventually took full responsibility and moved to consolidate his

dictatorship. Within a few years he reduced the Italian parliament to a nonentity, placed the

press under censorship, abolished the labor unions, deprived labor of the right to strike,

and abolished all political parties except the Fascist Party.

The Fascist State

Fascism in the 1920s was an innovation that the rest of the world was slow to understand.

In his more fl amboyant moments Mussolini strutted, stuck out his jaw, and glared

ferociously; he jumped through fl aming hoops to show his virility and had his chief subor-

dinates do likewise; to the outside world this seemed an odd way of demonstrating fi tness

for public offi ce. He denounced democracy as historically outmoded and declared that it

accentuated class struggle, split people into countless minority parties, and led to selfi sh-

ness, futility, evasion, and empty talk. In place of democracy he preached the need for

vigorous action under a strong leader; he himself took the title of Leader, or Duce. He denounced liberalism, free trade, laissez-faire, and capitalism, along with Marxism, mate-

rialism, socialism, and class consciousness, which he said were the evil offspring of liberal

ideas and capitalist economies. In their place he preached national solidarity and state

management of economic affairs under the same Leader’s farseeing and audacious vision.

And in fact Mussolini seemed to bring a limited kind of new effi ciency to Italian society;

as the saying went, he made the trains run on time.

Mussolini introduced, at least in theory, the syndical, or corporative

state, which had been discussed in both left- and right-wing circles for

many years. Left-wing syndicalism, especially before the First World War,

looked to revolutionary labor unions to expropriate the owners of industry and then to

assume the direction of political and economic life. A more conservative syndicalism had

been endorsed and encouraged by the Catholic church, with which Mussolini made his

peace when he signed with the papacy the Lateran accord in 1929 recognizing the inde-

pendence and sovereignty of Vatican City. The more conservative type of syndicalism

looked nostalgically toward a revival of the medieval guilds, or “corporations,” in which

master and journeymen, employer and employees, had labored side by side in a suppos-

edly golden age of social peace.

The Fascist corporative system, however, did not resemble the older syndicalist theo-

ries because in practice the hand of the state was writ large, something that neither of the

earlier corporative doctrines had anticipated. The system went through a number of com-

plicated stages, but as it fi nally emerged in the 1930s, it provided for the division of all

economic life into 22 major areas, for each of which a “corporation” was established. In

each corporation representatives of Fascist-organized labor groups, employers, and the

government determined working conditions, wages, prices, and industrial policies; and in

a national council these representatives were supposed jointly to devise plans for Italy’s

economic self-suffi ciency. In each case the role of government was decisive and the whole

Matteotti’s murder

The corporative state

98. Italian Fascism

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Chapter 20 Democracy and Dictatorship in the 1930s826

structure was under the jurisdiction of a minister of corporations. As a fi nal step, these

corporative economic chambers were integrated into the government proper so that in

1938 the old Chamber of Deputies was superseded by a Chamber of Fasces and Corpora-

tions representing the corporations and the Fascist party, all of its members selected by the

government and not subject to popular ratifi cation.

None of this was democratic, but this was an improvement over democracy, the

Fascists asserted. A legislature in an advanced economic society, they said, should repre-

sent not political parties and geographical constituencies but economic occupations. Orga-

nization along such lines would do away with the anarchy and class confl ict engendered by

free capitalism, which only sapped the strength of the national state. In the end real author-

ity rested with the government—the head of the government, the Duce, who settled most

matters by decree. In point of fact, social unrest and class confl ict were “ended,” not by the

corporative system as such, but by the prohibition of strikes and lockouts and the abolition

of independent labor unions. The corporative system represented the most extreme form

of state control over economic life within a framework of private enterprise

and a capitalist economy, that is, one in which ownership continued to rest

in private hands. It was the Fascist answer to Western-style democracy and

to Soviet proletarian dictatorship. Fascism, said Mussolini, is the “dictator-

ship of the state over many classes cooperating.”

When the Depression struck, none of Italy’s economic controls availed very much.

Mussolini was eager to lay upon the world Depression the blame for Italy’s continuing

economic ills. He turned to a vigorous program of public works and to increasing economic

self-suffi ciency. Throughout the Fascist era, however, no fundamental reform changed

the status of the farmers and peasants. The existing structure of society, which in Italy

meant social extremes of wealth and poverty, remained unaltered. Fascism provided nei-

ther the economic security nor the material well-being for which it had demanded the

State control of

economic life

The Italian Fascist Party sought to bring all individuals and social groups under the con- trol of an authoritarian national state. This woman at a Fascist rally in Rome exempli- fi ed a disciplined, nationalized gender identity that the Italian government regularly pro- moted during the 1930s. (Hulton Archive/Getty Images)

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82799. Totalitarianism: Germany’s Third Reich

sacrifi ce of individual freedom and democracy. It undeniably, however, substituted a wide-

spread psychological exhilaration, a feeling that Italy was undergoing a heroic national

revival; and after 1935 to support that feeling Mussolini turned increasingly to military and

imperialist adventures.

Fascism came to be regarded in other countries as a possible alternative to demo-

cratic or parliamentary government, as an actual corrective to troubles whose reality no

one could deny. All Communists hated it, and so did all socialists, labor leaders, moderate

leftists, idealistic liberals, and many traditional conservatives. Wealthier or established

people, because of fear of Bolshevism, made more allowances in its favor. In eastern

European countries, often highly nationalistic, or infl uenced by disgruntled landowners,

or simply unused to settling questions by majority vote, fascism made a

considerable appeal. In the Latin countries, in Spain, Portugal, and France,

Mussolini’s corporative state found champions and admirers. Sometimes,

in Europe and elsewhere intellectuals spun sophisticated theories about the

new order of discipline and authority, forgetting how Mussolini himself with unusual can-

dor had written, “Fascism was not the nursling of a doctrine worked out beforehand with

detailed elaboration; it was born of the need for action.”

99. TOTALITARIANISM: GERMANY’S THIRD REICH

The Rise of Adolf Hitler

It was in Germany that Mussolini found his aptest pupil. Born in Austria in 1889, Adolf

Hitler did little before the war. He was not an intellectual, like the prewar leftist journalist

Mussolini. He was never a socialist, but he fell into a restless and racist type of radicalism.

Son of an Austrian customs offi cial, he lost his father at 14 and his mother a few years

later. He dropped out of high school at 16 and at 19 came to the great metropolis of Vienna

as an art student but was never accepted into the academy to which he sought admission.

When the small inheritance left by his parents ran out and a government grant for orphan

students ended, he drifted into various menial jobs, occasionally selling a few of his post-

card and poster paintings but mainly eking out a marginal existence with hardly any

friends, money, or livelihood.

The young Hitler did not like what he saw in Vienna: neither the trap-

pings of the Habsburg court, nor the nobility of eastern Europe who rode

by in their carriages, nor the mixed nationalities of the Danubian Empire,

nor the Vienna worker’s attachment to international Marxism, nor above all the Jews, who

thanks to a century of liberal infl uences had become assimilated into the German culture

and now occupied many distinguished positions in business, law, medicine, and journalism

in the city. He became exceedingly race conscious and racist, not unlike others in many

countries at the time. The youthful Hitler took a special satisfaction in thinking of himself

as a pure German of the good old German stock. He became violently anti-Semitic, and

he also disliked aristocracy, capitalism, socialism, cosmopolitanism, internationalism, and

“hybridization.”

His aversion to Austria led him in 1913 to move to Munich, capital of the South

German state of Bavaria. Once again he drifted without livelihood except by occasionally

selling a few of his watercolors. When the war broke out, he volunteered for the German

army. He served as a dispatch runner to the front line, and at one point was the victim of

a gas attack that temporarily blinded him and injured his vocal cords. Although he rose in

The appeal of fascism

Hitler’s dislikes

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Chapter 20 Democracy and Dictatorship in the 1930s828

rank only to the rough equivalent of corporal, he received important military decorations.

For Hitler, as for Mussolini and others, the war was a thrilling, noble, and liberating

experience. The average individual in modern society often led a routinized, dull exis-

tence. Peace, for many, was a drab routine from which war was an exciting emancipation.

Human atoms, fl oating in an impersonal and unfriendly world, they were stirred by the

nationalism that the war aroused into a sense of belonging to, believing in, and fi ghting

for something greater than themselves, but that was yet their own. When peace returned,

they felt a letdown.

When the war ended, Hitler remained for a time on active duty and was transferred

to Munich. Bavaria in 1919 was a principal focus of the Communist expansion in central

Europe; a Bavarian Soviet Republic even existed for about three weeks until crushed by

the federal government in Berlin. The Communist threat made Bavaria a busy center for

anticommunist, antisocialist, antirepublican, and antidemocratic agitation of all kinds, and

the seat of a disgruntled illiberalism. It swarmed with secret societies and paramilitary

organizations led by discontented army offi cers or others who remained alienated from

civilian society and hostile to the new Weimar democracy. Hitler, working with the army’s

political instruction program, which had been created to combat socialist and democratic

propaganda among the demobilized veterans and workers, joined at the army’s behest a

tiny party called the German Workers’ Party and soon became its leader. Early in 1920 he

proclaimed its 25-point program, the party now calling itself the National

Socialist German Workers’ Party. Thus were born the Nazis, so called from

the German way of pronouncing the fi rst two syllables of “National.” Now

demobilized, Hitler was fully launched on a career of radical politics.

We have earlier noted the beginnings of the Weimar Republic and the burdens it was

compelled to bear from the start—the Versailles peace, reparations, the catastrophic infl a-

tion of 1923. Something has been said also of the failure of the republicans to inaugurate

the kind of deeper social changes that might have democratized the political and social

structure of German society and thereby strengthened republican forces. For fi ve years

after the war, violence remained sporadic in Germany. Communist agitation continued;

but more dangerous, because they attracted more sympathy among the Germans, were the

maneuvers of monarchist and antirepublican organizations, which maintained armed bands

and staged uprisings like the unsuccessful Kapp Putsch of 1920. One such private “army”

was the Brownshirts or Storm Troopers maintained by the Nazis. Such bands even resorted

Nazi origins

The small Nazi Party gained enough followers by 1923 for Adolf Hitler to believe that a popular revolt or Putsch might cause the collapse of Germa- ny’s Weimar Republic. Hitler appears here (holding a hat) with his supporters at the time of the “beer hall Putsch ” in Munich, an almost farcical event for which he was sentenced to a brief term in prison. (Keystone/Getty Images)

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829

to assassination. Thus Walter Rathenau was murdered in 1922; he had organized German

production during the war, and in 1922 he was foreign minister, but he had democratic and

internationalist inclinations—and was a Jew. Another victim was Matthias Erzberger, a

leading moderate politician of the Catholic Center Party—he had helped “betray” the army

by signing the armistice.

In 1923, when reparations payments were not forthcoming, the French army occupied

the Ruhr. A clamor of national indignation swept over Germany. Hitler and the National

Socialists, who since 1919 had obtained a considerable following, denounced the Weimar

government for shameful submission to the French. They judged the

moment opportune for seizing power; and at the end of 1923, in imitation of

Mussolini’s march on Rome the year before, the Brownshirts staged the

beer hall Putsch in Munich. Hitler jumped on the platform, fi red a revolver

at the ceiling, and shouted that the “national revolution has broken out.” But

the police suppressed the disturbance, and Hitler was sentenced to fi ve years in prison. He

was released in less than a year; the Weimar democracy dealt mildly with its enemies.

In prison Hitler wrote his book, Mein Kampf (My Struggle), a turbid stream of personal recollection, racism, nationalism, collectivism, theories

of history, Jew-baiting, and political comment. Mein Kampf sold widely. The book and the publicity that had accompanied the fi ve-week trial con-

verted Hitler into a political fi gure of national prominence. The former soldier was not

alone in his ideas; no less a person than General Ludendorff, who had distinguished him-

self in the war, and after the war became one of the most grotesquely unbalanced of the old

offi cer class, gave his warm support to Hitler and even took part in the beer hall Putsch.

Beginning in 1924, with the French out of the Ruhr, reparations adjusted, a new

and stable currency adopted, and loans from foreign countries, mainly the United States,

Germany began to enjoy an amazing economic revival. National Socialism lost its appeal;

the party lost members, Hitler was regarded as a charlatan, and his followers as a lunatic

fringe. All seemed quiet. Then came the Great Depression in 1929. Adolf Hitler, who

might have faded out of history, was transformed by the circumstances attending the

Depression in Germany into a fi gure of Napoleonic proportions.

No country suffered more than Germany from the worldwide economic collapse.

Foreign loans abruptly ceased. Factories ground to a halt. There were 6 million unem-

ployed. The middle class had not really recovered from the great infl ation of 1923; struck

again, after so brief a respite, they lost all faith in the economic system and in its future.

The Communist vote steadily mounted; large numbers of the middling masses, who saw in

communism their own death warrant, looked about desperately for someone

to save them from Bolshevism. The Depression also stirred up the universal

German loathing for the Treaty of Versailles. Many Germans, still mourn-

ing the huge loss of lives in the World War, explained the ruin of Germany

by the postwar treatment it had received from the Allies—the constriction of

its frontiers; the loss of its colonies, markets, shipping, and foreign investments; the colos-

sal demand for reparations; the occupation of the Ruhr; the infl ation; and much else.

Any people in such a trap would have been bewildered and resentful. But many

Germans responded to their crisis with ideas and actions that may have refl ected or grown

out of Germany’s political experience and position in Europe over the previous three or

four centuries. Democracy—the agreement to obtain and accept majority verdicts, to dis-

cuss and compromise, to adjust confl icting interests without wholly satisfying or wholly

crushing either side—was hard enough to maintain in any country in a crisis. In Germany

The beer hall

Putsch

Mein Kampf

The crisis confronting

Germany

99. Totalitarianism: Germany’s Third Reich

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Chapter 20 Democracy and Dictatorship in the 1930s830

democracy was itself an innovation, which had yet to prove its value, which could easily

be called un-German, an artifi cial or imported doctrine, a foreign system foisted upon

Germany by the victors in the late war.

Hitler infl amed all such feelings by his propaganda. He denounced the

Treaty of Versailles as a national humiliation. He denounced the Weimar

democracy for producing class struggle, division, weakness, and wordy

futility. He called for “true” democracy in a vast and vital stirring of the

people, or Volk, behind a Leader who was a man of action. He declared that Germans, pure Germans, must rely only on themselves. He inveighed against Marxists, Bolsheviks, Com-

munists, and Socialists, throwing them all together in a deliberate beclouding of the issues;

but he claimed to favor the right kind of socialism for the little man, that is, the doctrine of

the National Socialist German Workers’ Party. He ranted against unearned incomes, war

profi ts, the power of the great trusts and chain stores, land speculators, interest slavery, and

unfair taxes. Above all, he denounced the Jews, who, like individuals in other social and

religious groups, could be found in all political camps. They now came under attack from

anti-Semitic extremists on all sides of the political spectrum. To the Left, Jewish capital-

ists were anathema. To the Right, Jewish revolutionaries were a horror. In anti-Semitism

Hitler’s propaganda

Nazi Party members and paramilitary groups often marched around German cities in the decade before Hitler came to power. This parade through Nuremberg in 1929 was thus one of the recurring demonstrations of Nazism’s racist nationalism during the last decades of the Weimar Republic. (Keystone-France/Gamma-Keystone via Getty Images)

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831

Hitler found a lowest common denominator upon which to appeal to all parties and classes.

At the same time the Jews were a small minority (only 600,000 in all Germany), so that in

an age of mass politics it was safe enough to attack them.

In the election of 1930 the Nazis won 107 seats in the Reichstag; in 1928 they had won

only 12; their popular vote went up from 800,000 to 6.5 million. The Communist represen-

tation rose from 54 to 77. By July 1932 the Nazis more than doubled their popular vote, won

230 seats, and were now by far the largest single party though because of the multiplicity

of parties they fell well short of a majority. In another election, in November 1932, the

Nazis, though still well out in front, showed some loss of strength, losing 2 million votes,

and dropping to 196 seats. The Communist vote had risen progressively to a peak of 100 in

November 1932.

After the relative setback of November 1932 Hitler feared that his movement was

passing. But certain conservative, nationalist, and antirepublican elements—old aristo-

crats, Junker landowners, army offi cers, Rhineland steel magnates, and other industrialists —

had conceived the idea that Hitler could be useful to them. From such sources, which

supported other reactionary causes as well, came a portion of Nazi funds. This infl uential

group, mainly from the small Nationalist Party, was confi dent that it would be able to

control Hitler and hence control the wave of national and mass discontent that he

was leading.

Amid the continuing economic crisis in 1932, Franz von Papen became the leader

of a Nationalist cabinet with the backing of the infl uential army leader General Kurt von

Schleicher. In December 1932 Schleicher forced Papen’s downfall and

succeeded him. When he too was compelled to resign a month later, both

men, intriguing separately and against each other, prevailed upon President

Hindenburg to name Hitler chancellor of a coalition cabinet. On January

30, 1933, by entirely legal means, Adolf Hitler became chancellor of the

German Republic; other positions in the new cabinet were fi lled by the Nationalists, with

whom the Nazis were to share power.

But to share power was not the Nazis’ aim. Hitler called for another election. A week

before election day in March the Reichstag building caught fi re. The Nazis, without any

real evidence, blamed it on the Communists. They frightened the population with a Red

scare, suspended freedom of speech and press, and set loose the Brownshirts to bully the

voters. Even so, in the election, the Nazis won only 44 percent of the vote; with their

Nationalist allies, they had 52 percent. Hitler, trumpeting a national emergency, was voted

dictatorial powers by a pliant Reichstag from which the Communist deputies by now had

been excluded. The Nazi revolution began.

The Nazi State

Hitler called his new order the Third Reich. He declared that following the First Reich,

or Holy Roman Empire, and the Second Reich, the empire founded by Bismarck that had

ended with the war in 1918, the Third Reich would carry on the process of true German

history, of which, he said, it was the organic outgrowth and natural culmination. The Third

Reich, he prophesied, would last a thousand years.

Like Mussolini, Hitler took the title of Leader, or, in German, the Führer. He claimed to represent the absolute sovereignty of the German people. Jews were considered un-

German. Democracy, parliamentarianism, and liberalism were condemned and together

with communism were labeled as “Jewish.” Women were supposed to bear numerous

Hitler named

chancellor

99. Totalitarianism: Germany’s Third Reich

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Chapter 20 Democracy and Dictatorship in the 1930s832

children, but they could not play an active role in the Nazi government or in the leadership

of the Nazi Party. Concentration camps were set up for opponents of the regime. The new

“racial science” classifi ed Jews as non-Aryans and included as Jewish any-

one who had one Jewish grandparent. Almost at once Jews were driven

from public offi ce, the civil service, teaching, and other professions. The

Nuremberg laws of 1935 deprived Jews of all citizenship rights and forbade

intermarriage or even sexual relations between Jews and non-Jews. On November 9, 1938,

Kristallnacht, the “night of broken glass,” the anti-Semitism of Nazi Germany turned to fi erce violence. When a 17-year-old Polish-Jewish student, distraught by the mistreatment

of his parents, shot and killed a German diplomatic offi cial in the German Embassy in

Paris, Nazi storm troopers in a savage orgy of vandalism, looting, and incendiarism

smashed Jewish shops, businesses, and synagogues in German cities; beat up thousands of

Jews; and rounded up 30,000 to be sent to concentration camps. Party and government

leaders moved in to control the storm troopers and to use anti-Semitism for their own pur-

poses. The government levied a 1 billion-mark fi ne on the Jewish community for provok-

ing the assault and collected the insurance payments for the shattered glass and other

property damage. Jews who in the wake of these events belatedly tried to fl ee the country

Anti-Semitism

The Nazi-orchestrated attack on Jewish shops and businesses in November 1938 carried the offi cial anti-Semitism of the Nazi state to a new level of violence in German cities. The shattered windows and signs at this Jewish store in Berlin convey the mean- ing of Kristallnacht —the night of broken glass. (akg-images/Newscom)

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833

discovered that neither they nor their families could readily fi nd places of refuge; the doors

in Europe and the United States were for the most part closed to them. The events of 1938

in Germany still resembled an older-style pogrom, but they also expressed a radical new

racism and foreshadowed the state-organized systematic destruction, in the Holocaust, of

6 million European Jews and of others in the grisly death camps.

The new totalitarian order was thought of as absolutely solid, and monolithic, like one

huge single slab of rock in which no particle had any separate structure. Germany ceased

to be federal; all the old states such as Prussia and Bavaria were abolished. All political

parties except the National Socialists were destroyed. The Nazi Party was itself violently

purged on the night of June 30, 1934, when many of the old Brownshirt leaders, those who

represented the more social revolutionary wing of the movement, were accused of plotting

against Hitler and were summarily shot. A secret political police, the Gestapo (Geheime Staatspolizei) and a system of permanent concentration camps in which thousands were detained without trial or sentence suppressed all persons who were deemed to be

“un-German” and all ideas at variance with the Nazi Party and the dictates of the Leader.

Law itself was defi ned as the will of the German people operating in the inter-

ests of the Nazi state (and with the Nazi regime as the sole interpreter of the German

“will”). Churches, both Protestant and Catholic, continued to function but were “coor-

dinated” with the new regime; their clergy were forbidden to criticize its

activities, international religious ties were discouraged, and efforts were

made to keep children out of religious schools. The government encouraged

anti-Christian pagan movements and worship of the old Teutonic gods, but

nothing was sponsored so much as worship of Nazism and its Führer. A Nazi Youth Movement and schools and universities indoctrinated the rising generation in

the new concepts and carried older nationalist ideas to new racist extremes. The total, all-

encompassing repression thwarted the efforts of a few dedicated Germans to develop a

broad resistance movement.

Labor unions also were “coordinated”; they were replaced by a National Labor Front.

Strikes were forbidden. Under the “leadership principle” employers were set up as small-

scale Führers in their factories and industries and given extensive control, subject to close government supervision. On the positive side (if such a term may be used for any aspect of

this totalitarian system), an extensive public works program was launched, reforestation

and swamp drainage projects were organized, housing and super-highways were built. A

vast rearmament program absorbed the unemployed and within a short time unemploy-

ment disappeared. Even under Nazi statistics labor’s share in the national income was

reduced, but workers had jobs; and an organization called Strength Through Joy attended

to the needs of people with small incomes, providing entertainment, vacations, and travel

for many who could never otherwise afford them. The constant Nazi propaganda and the

improving economy and social programs—for those not directly suppressed or excluded—

steadily increased the popular support for Hitler’s regime, even as personal and political

freedoms rapidly disappeared.

The government assumed increasing controls over industry, while leaving ownership

in private hands. In 1936 it adopted a Four-Year Plan of economic development. All coun-

tries after the Great Depression tended to economic nationalism, but Nazi

Germany set up the goal of autarky and self-suffi ciency—absolute inde-

pendence from foreign trade. German chemists developed artifi cial rubber,

plastics, synthetic textiles, and many other substitute products to enable the

country to do without raw materials imported from overseas.

“Coordinating”

German society

Economic autarky

and self-suffi ciency

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Chapter 20 Democracy and Dictatorship in the 1930s834

Historical Interpretations and Debates

Women in Fascist Italy and Nazi Germany

The fascist parties relegated women to a secondary position in all spheres of public and eco- nomic life, which partly explains why early historians of the twentieth-century right-wing totalitarian states in Italy and Germany gave relatively little attention to the experiences or roles of women. A more recent generation of historians, however, has described how fascism tried to control women and (with discomforting historical examples) how women also sup- ported or contributed to the functioning of fascist societies—noting that many women were not simply passive victims. Compare the themes that the historians Victoria De Grazia and Claudia Koonz emphasize in their accounts of women’s social positions within Fascist Italy and Nazi Germany.

Victoria De Grazia, How Fascism Ruled Women: Italy, 1922–1945 (1992) Fascism took as axiomatic that women

and men were different by nature. The

government politicized this difference to

the advantage of males and made it the

cornerstone of an especially repressive,

comprehensive new system for defi ning

female citizenship, for governing

women’s sexuality, wage labor, and social

participation. Every aspect of being female

was thus held up to the measure of the

state’s interest and interpreted in light of the

dictatorship’s strategies of state building. . . .

In fascist statecraft, the duty of women

toward the nation lay fi rst and foremost in

making babies. . . .

Women’s procreative role now

potentially defi ned every aspect of their

social being. Thus, Italian women not only

confronted their exclusion from politics

. . . , but they also risked exclusion from

the entire public sphere: their rights in the

workplace, their contributions to culture, and

their service as volunteers were all called

into question by the offi cial message that

their preeminent duty was to bear the nation’s

children. . . .

Above all, fascist policy fought against

an especially dangerous notion, that work was

a universal right—for women as for men—

and that for women, it should also open the

door to social emancipation. . . . If [women]

held jobs, it had to be out of family necessity

or because no men would take them. Thus

Mussolini’s “civilization of labor” belittled

women’s professional abilities

Claudia Koonz, Mothers in the Fatherland: Women, the Family, and Nazi Politic s (1987) What, then, did women do for the [Nazi]

men who ignored them [in public life]?

. . . They gave men Nazis the feeling of

belonging not just to a party but to a total

subculture that prefi gured the ideals of the

Nazi state for which they fought. . . . While

Nazi men preached race hate and virulent

nationalism that threatened to destroy the

morality upon which civilization rested,

women’s participation in the movement

created an ersatz gloss of idealism. The

image did not, of course, deceive the victims,

but it helped Nazis . . . to continue their

work under the illusion that they remained

decent. . . .

For women, belonging to the “master

race” opened the option of collaboration

in the very Nazi state that exploited them

. . . [and] denied them access to political

status. . . . Far from remaining untouched by

Nazi evil, women operated at its very center.

Wives, when they remained in their

“proper place,” kept their family world

apart from the masculine sphere of brutality,

coercion, corruption, and power. As with so

many other aspects of Nazi ideology, this

vision of womanhood embodied a traditional

ideal carried to extremes. . . .

In Hitler’s Germany, women provided

in a separate sphere of their own creation the

image of humane values that lent the healthy

gloss of motherhood to the “Aryan” world of

the chosen. . . . [Wives] gave the individual

men who confronted daily murder a safe

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835

Claudia Koonz . . . (contd . . . .) place where they could be respected for who

they were, not what they did.

Victoria De Grazia . . . (contd . . . .) and vocational skills not only in the eyes of

government, employers, and men but in the

view of women themselves.

Sources: Victoria De Grazia, How Fascism Ruled Women: Italy, 1922–1945 (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1992), pp. 7, 41, 44, 168; Claudia Koonz, Mothers in the Fatherland: Women, the Family, and Nazi Poli- tics (New York: St. Martin’s Press, 1987), pp. 5–6, 419.

For Europe as a whole one of the basic economic problems, especially after the

World War, was that while the Continent was economically a unit dependent on exchange

between diverse regions, politically it was cut to pieces by tariff restrictions, currency dif-

ferences, and hothouse industries artifi cially nurtured by nationalist ambition. The Nazis

claimed to have a solution for this problem in a network of bilateral trade agreements

assuring all neighboring peoples an outlet for their products. But it was a solution in which

Germans were to be the most industrial and most advanced, the most powerful and wealth-

iest. Other Europeans were to be relegated to permanently inferior status. What could not

be accomplished under trade agreements and economic penetration could be accomplished

by conquest and war. Within a few years after 1933, although the regime had its share of

bureaucratic confusion and personal rivalries, the Nazi revolution had turned Germany

into a huge disciplined war machine, its internal foes liquidated or silenced, its mesmer-

ized masses roaring their approval in giant demonstrations, ready to follow the Führer in

storming new Valkyrian heights. “Today Germany,” went an ominous phrase; “tomorrow

the whole world.”

Totalitarianism: Some Origins and Consequences

Totalitarianism was a many-sided thing. It had appeared fi rst with the Bolshevik Revolu-

tion, for in the denial of individual liberty the Communist regime did not differ from the

most extreme right-wing totalitarianism as manifested in Germany. Although Mussolini

was the fi rst to use the term “totalitarian,” and advance it explicitly as an ideology, the

Fascist regime that he established lacked the all-embracing control over people’s lives to

merit that term in its full political meaning. The Catholic Church came to terms with the

regime, anti-Semitism did not appear until much later, the Italian upper legislative house

or Senate continued to function, and the king retained many of his prerogatives. As to

the differences between Soviet totalitarianism and Naziism, they were important, at least

in principle. Theoretically, the proletarian dictatorship was temporary; it did not at fi rst

glorify the individual Leader; and it was not nationalistic, for it rested on a principle of

worldwide class struggle in all nations alike. It adopted a democratic-sounding constitution

and paid at least lip service to individual rights. Its constitution offi cially condemned rac-

ism, and it did not deliberately and consciously cultivate an ethics of war and violence. But

as time passed, Soviet totalitarianism or Communism became harder to distinguish from

totalitarian regimes like Naziism. The Soviet dictatorship and one-party state seemed per-

manent; the hollowness of the constitution and the guarantee of individual rights became

more apparent; a cult developed around the person of Stalin; the emphasis became more

nationalistic, falling less on the workers of the world and more on the glories of the Soviet

motherland; and it sent untold numbers to perish in the harsh labor camps of the Gulag.

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Chapter 20 Democracy and Dictatorship in the 1930s836

Totalitarianism, as distinct from mere dictatorship, though it appeared

rather suddenly in Europe after the First World War, was no historic freak.

It was an outgrowth of a good deal of development in the past. The state

was an institution that had continuously acquired new powers ever since the

Middle Ages. The First World War continued and advanced the process. The twentieth-

century totalitarian state, mammoth and monolithic, claiming absolute dominion over

every department of life, carried this old development of state sovereignty to a new

extreme. For centuries, for example, the state had clashed with the church. The twentieth-

century dictators did the same. In addition, however, they were in most cases not merely

anticlerical but explicitly anti-Christian, offering, or imposing, a “total”

philosophy of life.

The new fascist and Nazi philosophy drew heavily upon historic

nationalism, which it distorted, exaggerated, and militarized. It rejected

classical liberalism, which stressed the autonomy of rational individuals,

and promoted instead an organic theory of society. It held that society was a kind of liv-

ing organism within which the individual person was but a single cell. Individuals, in this

theory, had no independent existence; they received life itself and all their ideas from the

society, people, nation, or culture into which they were born and by which they were nur-

tured. In Marxism, the absolute subordination of individuals to their class came to much

the same thing. Individuals were a microscopic cell, meaningless outside the social body.

It made little sense, given such theories, to speak of the individual’s “reason” or “free-

dom,” to allow individuals to have their own opinions or to count up individual opinions

to obtain a merely numerical majority. Valid ideas were those of the group as a whole, of

the people or race or nation (or, in Marxism, the class) as a solid block. Even science was

a product of specifi c societies; there was a “Nazi science,” which was bound to differ in its

conclusions from democratic bourgeois, Western, or “Jewish” science; and for the Soviets

there was a Soviet science, consistent with dialectical materialism and better equipped to

see the truth than the decadent bourgeois, capitalistic, or fascist science of the non-Soviet

world. All art, too—music, painting, poetry, fi ction, architecture, sculpture—was good art

insofar as it expressed the society or nationality in which it appeared.

The avowed philosophy of totalitarian regimes was subjective. Whether an idea was

held to be true depended on whose idea it was. Ideas of truth or beauty or right were not

supposed to correspond to any outer or objective reality or to the critical evaluations of

rational thought; they had only to correspond to the inner nature, interests, or point of view

of the people, nation, society, or class that entertained such ideas. The older Enlightenment

concepts of universal reason, natural law, natural right, and the ultimate alikeness of all

mankind, or of a common path of all mankind in one course of progress, disappeared.

The totalitarian regimes did not simply declare, as a dry fi nding of social science,

that peoples’ ideas were shaped by environment. They set about actively shaping ideas

through the constant use of propaganda and by establishing propaganda offi ces as a prin-

cipal branch of government. Propaganda was hardly new, but in the past, and still in the

democratic countries, it had been a piecemeal affair, urging the public to accept this or

that political party, or rally to this or that campaign. Now, like all else, it became “total.”

Propaganda was monopolized by the state, and it demanded faith in a whole view of life

and in every detail of this coordinated whole national system. Formerly the control of

books and newspapers had been mainly negative; under Napoleon or

Metternich, for example, censors had forbidden statements on particular sub-

jects, events, or persons. Now, in totalitarian countries, control of the press

The evolution of

totalitarianism

Reliance on historic

nationalism

Propaganda

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837

became frighteningly positive. The government manufactured thought. It manipulated opin-

ion. It rewrote history. Writers were required to adopt whole ideologies; books, newspapers,

magazines, and the radio diffused an endless and overwhelming cloud of words. Loudspeak-

ers blared in the streets; gigantic blown-up photographs of the Leader looked down in public

places. The propaganda experts were sometimes fanatics, but often they were cynics like

Dr. Joseph Goebbels in Germany, too intelligent to be duped by the rubbish with which they

duped their country.

The very idea of empirical truth evaporated. No norm of human utterance remained

except political expediency—the wishes and self-interest of those in power. No one could

learn anything except what the government wanted people to know. No one could escape

the omnipresent offi cial doctrine, the insidious penetration of the very recesses of the mind

by ideas planted by outsiders for their own purposes. People came to accept and even to

believe the most extravagant statements when they were endlessly repeated, year after

year. Barred from all independent sources of information, having no means by which any

offi cial allegation could be tested, the peoples in totalitarian countries became increas-

ingly, in fact and not merely in sociological theory, incapable of the use of reason.

Racism, more characteristic of Nazi Germany than of totalitarianism in

general, was a further exaggeration, or degradation, of older ideas of nation-

alism and national solidarity. It defi ned the nation in a tribal sense, as a

biological entity, a group of persons possessing the same physical ancestry

and the same or similar physical characteristics. Anti-Semitism was the most venomous

form of racism in Europe. While a latent hostility to Jews had always been present in the

Christian world, modern anti-Semitism had little to do with Christianity. It arose in part

from the fact that in the nineteenth century with the removal of religious barriers, the Jews

Racism

CHRONOLOGY OF NOTABLE EVENTS, 1922–1938

1922 Britain recognizes the Irish Free State with dominion status; fi rst step toward

full sovereignty as Republic of Ireland

October 1922 Mussolini takes power in Italy after the Fascist March on Rome

1923 Nazis fail to mobilize political support during an attempted Putsch in Munich

1924 First Labour government is elected in Britain under Ramsey MacDonald

January 1933 Hitler comes to power in Germany; Nazis soon take control of all state

institutions and suppress opposition

March 1933 Franklin D. Roosevelt introduces the “New Deal” in the United States to

mitigate economic effects of the Great Depression

1934 Right-wing and fascist groups in France challenge the Third Republic with

riots during the Stavisky Affair

1935 Nazis adopt Nuremberg laws against Jews

1936 Left-wing Popular Front comes to power in France under Léon Blum and

enacts notable social reforms

1938 The Nazi regime encourages violent attacks on Jews and Jewish property

during Kristallnacht—the night of broken glass

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Chapter 20 Democracy and Dictatorship in the 1930s838

entered into general society and many achieved positions of prominence, especially in

Germany, so that from the point of view of resentful individuals they could be represented

as dangerous competitors in business or the professions. But most of all, anti-Semitism

was infl amed by propagandists who wished people to feel their supposed

racial purity more keenly or to forget the deeper problems of society,

including poverty, class divisions, and economic inequities.

Totalitarianism was an escape from the realities of class confl ict. It was

a way of pretending that differences between rich and poor were of minor

importance. Typically, a totalitarian regime came into power by stirring up

class fears, then remained in power, and represented itself as indispensable by declaring

that it had settled the class problem. Thus Mussolini, Hitler, and certain lesser dictators

before seizing offi ce pointed alarmingly to the dark menace of Bolshevism, and once in

power, declared that all classes stood shoulder to shoulder in slablike solidarity behind

the Leader.

Nor were events in Russia (or in China after the Second World War) altogether differ-

ent. The Bolsheviks in 1917, armed with the ideas of Marx, aroused the workers against

capitalists, landlords, the middle classes, and rich peasants; once in power and after exten-

sive liquidations, they declared that the classless society had arrived, that no true social

Totalitarianism

“resolves” class

confl ict

The Nazis promoted racist defi - nitions of German nationhood and created racial propaganda to show the “ideal” German family. This image of the “new people” was produced for a 1938 calendar that conveyed the Nazis’ biological view of gender identities as well as the regime’s racial portrait of the German nation. (akg-images/Newscom)

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839

classes any longer existed, and that all citizens stood solidly behind a regime from which,

they said, all good citizens benefi ted equally. Only the democracies admitted that they suf-

fered from internal class problems, from maldistribution of wealth, or from social distinc-

tions between favored and unfavored groups in society.

The dictatorships blamed their troubles on forces outside the country. They accused

dissatisfi ed persons of conspiring with foreigners or refugees—with being the tools of

Trotskyism, imperialism, or international Jewry. Or they talked of the struggle (as Mussolini

did) between rich nations and poor nations, the “have” and the “have not” countries, and

thus transformed the problem of poverty into an international struggle. In the distinction

between have and have not countries there was, of course, more than a grain of truth; in more

old-fashioned language some countries (such as the European democracies, as well as the

United States and the British dominions of the 1930s) had progressed farther than others in

their economic productivity and accumulation of wealth. It is probable that any propaganda

is more effective if partly true. But when the totalitarians blamed their troubles on other

countries and transformed the confl ict between have and have not into a struggle between

nations, they gave the signal that war might be a solution for social ills that had not yet

disappeared.

Violence, the acceptance and even glorifi cation of violence, was

indeed the characteristic most clearly distinguishing the totalitarian from

the democratic systems. We have seen how a cult of violence, or belief

that struggle was benefi cial, had arisen before the First World War. The

war itself habituated people to violence and direct action. Lenin and his followers showed

how a small group could seize the helm of state under revolutionary or chaotic conditions.

Mussolini in 1922 taught the same lesson, with further refi nements; for the Italy in which

he seized power was not at war, and it was merely the threat or possibility of revolution,

not revolution itself, that provided him with his opportunity. In the 1920s, for the fi rst time

The glorifi cation of

violence

The Nazi regime used public spectacles to send a message of irresistible national power to both the German people and foreign observers. The annual Nazi ral- lies at Nuremberg became the most carefully organized expressions of alle- giance to the Third Reich and the Nazi ideology. The salute to Hitler, as shown in this photograph of the Führer leading his offi cers between rows of soldiers at Nuremberg in 1938, was a typical exam- ple of the fervent loyalty and emotion that such events were designed to evoke. (Bettmann/Corbis)

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Chapter 20 Democracy and Dictatorship in the 1930s840

since the seventeenth century, some of the most civilized parts of Europe, in time of peace,

saw private armies marching about the country, bands of uniformed and organized ruf-

fi ans, Blackshirts or Brownshirts, who manhandled, abused, and even killed law-abiding

citizens with impunity. Nor would anyone in the 1920s have believed that by the 1930s

Europe would see the reintroduction of torture.

The very ethics of totalitarianism was violent and neopagan. It borrowed from and

distorted Nietzsche and other prewar theoreticians, who, safe and civilized, had declared

that people should live dangerously, avoid the fl abby weakness of too much thought,

and throw themselves with red-blooded vigor into a life of action. The new regimes all

instituted youth movements. They appealed to a kind of juvenile idealism in which young

people believed that by joining some kind of squad, donning some kind of uniform, and

getting into the fresh air they contributed to a great moral resurgence of their country.

Young men were taught to value their bodies but not their minds, to be tough and hard,

and to regard mass gymnastics as patriotic demonstrations. Young women were taught to

breed large families without complaint, to be content in the kitchen, and to look with awe

upon their virile mates.

The body cult fl ourished while the mind decayed. Especially in National Socialism the

ideal was to turn the German people into a race of splendid blond Nordics. Contrariwise,

euthanasia was adopted for the chronically ill and the insane and was proposed for the

aged. Nazi ideologists produced pseudoscientifi c racist theories to explain and justify their

actions. Later, in the Second World War, when the Nazis overran eastern Europe, they

committed Jews and others to gas chambers, destroying over 6 million human beings by

the most scientifi c methods. Human beings were viewed as animals; one bred the kind one

wanted and killed the kind one did not.

The Spread of Dictatorship

The trend toward dictatorship, if not necessarily of the totalitarian variety, spread in Europe

in the 1930s. By 1938 only 10 out of 27 European countries remained democratic, in the

sense that different political parties honestly competed for offi ce and that citizens within

generous limits thought and acted as they pleased. They were Great Britain and France;

Holland, Belgium, and Switzerland; Czechoslovakia and Finland; and the three Scandina-

vian countries Denmark, Norway, and Sweden.

The promise of the early 1920s that constitutional and democratic government would

fl ourish was thwarted. The weakness or absence of a parliamentary or democratic tradi-

tion, low education and literacy standards, the hostility of reactionary elements, the fear of

Bolshevism, and the dissatisfaction of existing national minorities, all cou-

pled with the economic strains resulting from the Great Depression, contrib-

uted to the collapse of representative institutions. Apart from the avowedly

totalitarian or fascist regimes of Germany and Italy, the new dictatorships

and authoritarian systems generally rested on a combination of personal

and military power, but several refl ected or absorbed some of the ideologi-

cal features of a generic fascism. In Portugal, Salazar inaugurated a clerical-corporative

dictatorship in 1932 that lasted for over four decades. In Austria, Dollfuss fused various

right-wing political and military elements into a clerical-fascist “Christian” dictatorship

that violently suppressed the Socialists and sought in vain to counter the German threat.

In Spain General Franco established a right-wing authoritarian government after a bloody

civil war (described in the next chapter).

The collapse of

democratic

governments

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841

The authoritarian regimes were alike in repressing individual liberties, banning oppo-

sition parties, and abolishing or nullifying parliamentary institutions. Many borrowed

features of fascism, establishing a corporative state, outlawing independent labor organi-

zations, and forbidding strikes; many, like Hungary, Romania, and Poland, enacted anti-

Semitic legislation. None of the right-wing regimes went as far as Hitler’s Third Reich in

the total coordination of all political, economic, intellectual, and biological activities in a

revolutionary mass-based dictatorship.

The acceptance and glorifi cation of violence, it has been noted, was the feature most

clearly distinguishing the totalitarian from the democratic systems. War in the Nazi and

Fascist ethics was a noble thing, and the love of peace a sign of decadence. The Soviet

regime by its own theory regarded war with non-Soviet powers as inevitable someday,

but did not preach it as a positive moral good. The exaltation of war and struggle, the need

for maintaining national solidarity, and the habit of blaming foreign countries for social

troubles helped to make violence seem like a normal and appropriate means for strength-

ening the nation. These general ideological themes were intensifi ed by the considerable

armaments programs on which the dictatorships embarked and by the personal ambition

and egotistical mania of individual dictators. All of this made the decade of the 1930s a

time not only of domestic political reaction but of recurrent international crises that led

fi nally, in 1939, to a second and even greater world war.

For suggested further readings and useful Web sites, interactive exercises, glossary, chronologies,

and more, go to the Online Learning Center at www.mhhe.com/palmerhistory11e.

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843

C h a p t e r 21 THE SECOND

WORLD WAR

Peace in the abstract,  the peace that is the mere absence of war, does not exist in international rela-

tions. Peace is never found apart from certain con-

ditions; it means peaceable acceptance of given

conditions, or peaceable and orderly transformation

of conditions by negotiation and agreement. The

conditions in the 1930s were basically those laid

down by the Paris peace conference of 1919—the

states recognized, the frontiers drawn, the terms

agreed to, at the close of the First World War. In

the 1930s neither Germany, Italy, Japan, nor the

U.S.S.R. was content with these conditions; they

were “revisionist” or dissatisfi ed powers; and the fi rst three were willing to undertake war

itself to make a change. Great Britain, France, and the United States were satisfi ed powers,

expecting no benefi t from change in the conditions; but on the other hand they had lost faith

in the conditions of the postwar settlement and were unwilling to risk war for the sake of

upholding them. They had written a treaty in 1919 that a dozen years later they were unwill-

ing to enforce. They stood idly by, as long as they could, while the dissatisfi ed powers tore

to pieces the states recognized, the frontiers drawn, and the terms agreed to at the Peace of

Paris. From the Japanese invasion of Manchuria in 1931 to the outbreak of European war in

1939, force was used by those who wished to upset international order, but never by those

who wished to maintain it. A new world war was therefore launched by nations that had

never accepted the outcome of the last one.

The war that raged across the world from 1939 to 1945 was the most destructive confl ict

in human history. It was also the most widely dispersed global war that has ever been fought.

The Second World War affected nations on every continent; caused the deaths of almost

60 million people (at least two-thirds of whom were civilians); produced vast physical dam-

age in cities, factories, and countrysides; generated new forms of genocidal mass murder as

well as new military weapons of mass destruction; and contributed decisively to the new

global infl uence of two superpower nations—the United States and the Soviet Union.

100. The Weakness of

the Democracies:

Again to War

101. The Years of Axis Triumph

102. The Western-Soviet

Victory

103. The Foundations

of the Peace

Chapter emblem: German troops entering a destroyed Polish village in September 1939. (akg-images/Newscom)

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Chapter 21 The Second World War844

Historians often disagree about the social or political consequences of warfare, but the

Second World War was unquestionably one of the defi nitive, shaping events in modern

world history. Both the haunting memories and complex legacy of the Second World War

still infl uence modern cultures and people everywhere in the twenty-fi rst century.

100. THE WEAKNESS OF THE DEMOCRACIES: AGAIN TO WAR

The Pacifi sm and Disunity of the West

While dictators stormed in the 1930s, the Western democracies were swayed by a pro-

found pacifi sm. Many people responded to the vast human and fi nancial costs of the

recent world war by insisting on peace regardless of consequences. They came to believe

(especially in Britain and the United States) that the First World War had been a mistake,

that little or nothing had been gained by it, that they had been deluded by wartime propa-

ganda, and that wars were really started by armaments manufacturers. They believed also

that Germany had not really caused the war of 1914, that the Treaty of Versailles was too

hard on the Germans, that democracy was after all not suited to all nations, that it took

two to make a quarrel, and that there need be no war if one side refused to be provoked—a

whole system of pacifi c and tolerant ideas in which there was perhaps both truth and

misunderstanding.

The pacifi sm in western Europe also had other roots, most evident in

France. About 1.4 million Frenchmen had died in the First World War; half

of all French males between the ages of 20 and 32 in 1914 had been killed.

To the French it was inconceivable that such a human disaster should be

repeated. French strategy was therefore defensive and sparing of man-

power. If a new war came, the French expected to fi ght it mainly in the

elaborate fortifi cations, called the Maginot Line, which they built on their eastern frontier

facing Germany, from the Swiss to the Belgian border; to its north the Ardennes forest was

to be a barrier to any invader. During the Depression, France was torn by internal class

confl ict and by fascist and quasi-fascist agitation. Many French on the Right, historically

unsympathetic to the republic and seeing, or claiming to see, in such movements as the

Popular Front the threat of social revolution, did not conceal their admiration for Musso-

lini or even for Hitler. Abandoning their traditional role as ardent nationalists, they would

do nothing to oppose the dictators. On the other hand, many on the Left looked with sym-

pathy upon the Soviet Union. France was ideologically too divided in the 1930s to possess

a fi rm foreign policy, and all elements took false comfort from the supposed impregnabil-

ity of the carefully constructed Maginot Line.

A similar situation, in lesser degree, prevailed in Great Britain and the United States.

The loss and bloodshed of the First World War were remembered with both mourning

and anger. It was well known that another world war would be even more horrible; there

was an unspeakable dread of the bombing of cities. Typical of the time was a resolution

adopted by students at Oxford in 1933 that they would never take up arms for their coun-

try under any conditions. In the 1930s, when any international action seemed to favor

either the U.S.S.R. on the one hand, or Hitler and Mussolini on the other, it was hard to

establish any foreign policy on a fi rm basis of national unity. In Britain some members

of the upper classes were overtly sympathetic to the fascist dictators or saw in them a

bulwark against communism. The government itself tried to be noncommittal; it believed

that some means of satisfying or appeasing the more legitimate demands of the dictators

The pacifi sm in

western Europe

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845100. The Weakness of the Democracies: Again to War

might be found. Neville Chamberlain, the British prime minister after 1937, became the

principal architect of the appeasement policy.

The United States government, despite President Roosevelt’s repeated denunciation

of the aggressors, followed in practice a policy of rigid isolation in both Europe and Asia.

Neutrality legislation, enacted by a strong isolationist bloc in Congress in the years 1935 to

1937, forbade loans, export of munitions, and use of American shipping facilities to any

belligerent once the president had recognized a state of war in a given area. From this

American neutrality legislation the European aggressors of the 1930s derived great benefi t,

but not the victims of aggression.

As for the rulers of the U.S.S.R., they were revisionist and dissatisfi ed in that they did not

accept the new frontiers of eastern Europe nor the territorial losses incurred by Russia in the

First World War. They resented the cordon sanitaire created in 1919 against the spread of Bolshevism, the ring of small states on their borders from

Finland to Romania, which were almost without exception vehemently anti-

Soviet. They had no fondness for the international status quo, nor had they

abandoned their long-range revolutionary objectives. But, as Communists

and as Russians, they were obsessed by fear of foreign attack and invasion. Their Marxist

doctrine taught the inherent hostility of the entire capitalist world; the intervention of the

European Allies in the revolution and civil wars confi rmed their Marxist theory. Resentful

and suspicious of the outside world, in the 1930s the men in the Kremlin were alarmed pri-

marily by Germany. Hitler, in Mein Kampf and elsewhere, had declared that he meant to obliterate Bolshevism and subordinate large stretches of eastern Europe to Germany.

The Soviets thus became interested in collective security, in international action against

aggression. In 1934 they joined the League of Nations. They instructed Communist parties

to work with socialists and liberals in popular fronts. They offered assistance in check-

ing fascist aggressors, signing mutual assistance pacts with France and Czechoslovakia in

1935. But many Europeans fl ed from the Soviet embrace with a shudder. They distrusted

Soviet motives, or they were convinced that the purges and trials of the 1930s had left

the Soviets weak and undependable as allies, or they felt that the fascist dictators might

be diverted eastward against the Soviets and so spare the western European democracies.

Here again, though the Soviet Union was ostensibly willing, no effective coalition against

aggression could be formed.

The March of Nazi and Fascist Aggression

Adolf Hitler perceived these weaknesses with uncanny genius. Determined to wreck the

whole treaty system, which most Germans, to be sure, found humiliating, he employed

tactics of gradual encroachment that played on the hopes and fears of the democratic peo-

ples. He inspired in them alternating tremors of apprehension and sighs of relief. He would

rage and rant, arouse the fear of war, take just a little, declare that it was all he wanted, let

the former Allies naïvely hope that he was now satisfi ed and that peace was secure, then

rage again, take a little more, and proceed through the same cycle.

Each year he precipitated some kind of emergency, and each time the French and

British saw no alternative except to let him have his way. In 1933, soon after seizing power,

he took Germany out of the League of Nations and out of the Disarmament Conference

then taking place. He successfully wooed Poland, long France’s ally, and in

1934 the two countries signed a nonaggression treaty. That same year the

Nazis of Austria attempted a Putsch, assassinated the Austrian chancellor,

Russian resentment

Hitler’s triumphs

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Chapter 21 The Second World War846

Dollfuss, and demanded the union of Austria with Germany. The Western powers did

nothing. It was Mussolini who acted. Not desiring to see Germany installed at the Brenner

Pass, he mobilized large Italian forces on the frontier, discouraged Hitler from intervening

openly in Austria, and so preserved the independence of Austria for four more years. In

January 1935 a plebiscite was conducted in the Saar by the League of Nations as stipu-

lated under the Versailles treaty. Amidst intense Nazi agitation, the Saar voted for reunion

with the Reich. Two months later, in March 1935, Hitler dramatically repudiated those

clauses in the Versailles treaty intended to keep Germany disarmed; he now openly built

up the German armed forces. France, England, and Italy protested such arbitrary and one-

sided denunciation of an international treaty but did nothing about it. Indeed, Great Britain

entered into a naval agreement with Germany, to the consternation of the French.

On March 7, 1936, using as his justifi cation the new Franco-Soviet pact, Hitler repudi-

ated the Locarno agreements (which had confi rmed post–World War I national borders)

and reoccupied the Rhineland; that is, he sent German troops into the German territory

west of the Rhine, which by the Treaty of Versailles was supposed to be a demilitarized

zone. The French government considered possible military action to force the German

army to leave the Rhineland; and at this time Hitler might have been checked, for German

military strength was still weak and the German army was prepared to withdraw, or at least

consult, at signs of resistance. But the French government was divided and unwilling to act

without Britain; and the British would not risk war to keep German troops from occupying

German soil. The following year was quieter, but Nazi agitation fl ared up in Danzig, which

the Treaty of Versailles had set up as a free city. In March 1938 German forces moved into

Austria, and the union of Austria and Germany, the Anschluss, was at last consummated.

Hitler lived in Vienna as an unknown artist before the First World War, but he returned as the all-powerful German Führer after the union of Austria and Germany in March 1938. Proceed- ing through Vienna in this triumphant motorcade, he was hailed by Austrian Nazis and others who celebrated the long-anticipated Anschluss on the city’s streets. (akg-images/Newscom)

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847

In September 1938 came the turn of Czechoslovakia and the Munich crisis. To understand

the context for the events in Munich, we must fi rst pick up other threads in the story.

Mussolini, too, had his ambitions and required sensational foreign tri-

umphs to magnetize the Italian people. Since 1919 the Italians had been

dissatisfi ed with the peace arrangements. They had received none of the

territories of the former Ottoman Empire, and they were excluded from the

former German colonies that had been liberally parceled out as mandates

to Great Britain, France, Belgium, Japan, South Africa, Australia, and New Zealand. They

had never forgotten the humiliating defeat of Italian forces by Ethiopia at Adowa in 1896,

which had blocked Italy’s imperial ambitions in northeast Africa. Ethiopia remained the

only part of black Africa (with the exception of Liberia) that was still independent.

In 1935 Italy invaded Ethiopia. The League of Nations, of which Ethiopia was a

member, pronounced the Italian action an unwarranted aggression and imposed sanctions

on Italy, by which members of the League were to refrain from selling Italy either arms

or raw materials—oil was excepted. The British even gathered large naval forces in the

Mediterranean in a show of strength. In France, however, there was considerable sympathy

for Mussolini among infl uential political factions, and in England there was the fear that

if sanctions became too effective, by refusal of oil or by closure of the Suez Canal, Italy

might be provoked into a general war. Mussolini was thus able to defeat Ethiopia in 1936

and to combine it with Italian Somaliland and Eritrea in an Italian East African empire.

Haile Selassie, the Ethiopian emperor, made futile pleas for further action at Geneva. The

League of Nations again failed, as in an earlier Japanese invasion of Manchuria in 1931, to

provide machinery for disciplinary action against a wayward Great Power.

The Spanish Civil War, 1936–1939

Hardly had the Ethiopian crisis been disposed of, to the entire satisfaction of the

Italian aggressor, when another serious crisis broke out in Spain. In 1931, after a decade of

political disturbance, a rather mild revolution had driven out Alfonso XIII, of the Bourbon

family, and brought about the establishment of a democratic Spanish Republic. Old

hostilities within the country came to a head. The new republican government undertook

a program of social and economic reform. To combat the long-entrenched power of the

church, anticlerical legislation was enacted: church and state were separated, the Jesuit

order was dissolved and its property confi scated, and the schools were removed from cleri-

cal control. An old movement for Catalan independence was somewhat mollifi ed by the

grant of considerable local autonomy. To placate the peasantry the government began to

break up some of the larger landed estates and to redistribute the land. The government’s

program was never pushed vigorously enough to satisfy the more radical social and politi-

cal groups, who manifested their dissatisfaction in strikes and uprisings, particularly in

industrial Barcelona, the Catalan capital, and the mining areas of the Asturias, but it was

radical enough to antagonize the great property owners and the church. After 1933 the

government fell into the hands of rightist and conservative parties, who ruled through inef-

fective and unpopular ministries. An insurrection of the miners in the Asturias was put

down with much brutality. Agitation for Catalan independence was repressed.

In February 1936 new elections were held. All groups of the Left—republicans, social-

ists, syndicalists, anarchists, communists—joined in a Popular Front against monarchists,

clericals, army offi cers, other adherents of the old regime, and Falangists, or Spanish

fascists. The Left won a victory at the polls, and pressed forward with a reform program.

Mussolini’s ambitions

100. The Weakness of the Democracies: Again to War

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Chapter 21 The Second World War848

In July 1936, a group of military men led an insurrection against the republican govern-

ment; General Francisco Franco emerged as leader. The parties of the Left united in resis-

tance and the whole country fell into civil war. It was the most devastating

war in all Spanish history; over 600,000 people lost their lives, and it was

accompanied by extreme cruelties on both sides. For nearly three years the

republican or loyalist forces held their own before fi nally succumbing to the

insurgents led by Franco, who in March 1939 established an authoritarian, fascist-type rule

over the exhausted country.

Spain provided a rehearsal for the greater struggle soon to come. The republican gov-

ernment needed and expected to purchase arms abroad to suppress the rebellion, but Britain

and France were resolved not to let the war expand into a general confl ict. Although pro-

republican groups and individuals in Europe and the United States wanted to send military

assistance to the antifascist forces, the British and French governments forbade the ship-

ment of all war materials to Spain; even the French Popular Front government put obstacles

in the way of aid to the hard-pressed Spanish Popular Front. The United States extended its

neutrality legislation to cover civil wars and placed an embargo on the export of arms to

Spain. At British and French instigation 27 nations, including all the major European pow-

ers, agreed not to intervene or take sides. But the nonintervention policy proved a fi asco.

Germany, Italy, and the Soviet Union intervened anyway. The two fascist powers supported

Franco and denounced the republicans as the tools of Bolshevism, while the U.S.S.R.

Francisco Franco

Right-wing forces launched a military insurrection against Spain’s republican government in July 1936. In the civil war that followed, Germany and Italy sent aid to General Francisco Franco, but antifascist groups mobilized everywhere to fi ght for the Republic. This antifascist rally in Spain was one of the many meetings that supported the Republic and the armed forces that were ultimately unable to restore it. (David Seymour/Magnum Photos)

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849

supported the Republic, reinforced the growing strength of the Spanish Communists, and

stigmatized the rebels under Franco as the agents of international fascism. Germans,

Italians, and Russians sent military equipment to Spain, testing their tanks and planes in

battle. The fascist bombings of Guernica, Madrid, and Barcelona horrifi ed the democratic

world. The Germans and Italians sent troops (the Italians over 50,000); the Soviets if only

for geographical reasons did not send troops but sent technicians and political advisers.

Thousands of volunteers of leftist or liberal sympathy from the United States

and Europe went to Spain to serve with the republican forces. Spain became

the battlefi eld of contending ideologies. The Spanish Civil War split the

world into fascist and antifascist camps.

As in the case of Ethiopia, the war in Spain helped bring Germany and Italy together.

Mussolini had at fi rst, like others, feared the revival of a militant Germany. He had success-

fully opposed Hitler when the latter threatened to absorb Austria in 1934, but Mussolini’s

view of Germany changed in the following years. The Ethiopian war, Italian ambitions in

Africa, and a clamorous Italian demand for ascendancy in the Mediterranean, the mare nos- trum of the ancient Romans, estranged Italy from France and Britain. In 1936, soon after the outbreak of the Spanish Civil War, Mussolini and Hitler came to an understanding, which

they called the Rome-Berlin Axis—the diplomatic axis around which they hoped the world

might turn. That year Japan signed with Germany an Anti-Comintern Pact, soon ratifi ed by

Italy too; ostensibly an agreement to oppose communism, it was actually the

foundation for a diplomatic alliance. Each, thus furnished with allies, was

able to push its international aggression with more success. In 1937, Japan

launched a brutal, full-scale invasion of eastern China, where the Japanese

Spain splits the world

Alliance of Germany,

Italy, and Japan

100. The Weakness of the Democracies: Again to War

GUERNICA by Pablo Picasso (Spanish, 1881–1973)

Picasso painted this famous picture shortly after the fascist bombing of the Spanish city of Guernica in 1937. Although it expressed Picasso’s response to a specifi c event in the Spanish Civil War, its disjointed images of the death, suffering, and destruction in modern warfare quickly gave this work a haunting, universal meaning. (Museo Nacional Centro de Arte Reina Sofi a, Madrid/Art Resource, NY)

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Chapter 21 The Second World War850

quickly gained control of much of the country; and in 1938 Mussolini accepted what he had

denied to Hitler in 1934—the German absorption of Austria.

The Munich Crisis: Climax of Appeasement

By annexing Austria in March 1938 Hitler added about 6 million Germans

to the Reich. Another 3 million Germans lived in Czechoslovakia (see

maps, pp. 473, 730–731). All those who were adults in 1938 had been born

under the Habsburg Empire. They had never, since 1918, been content with

their new position as a minority in a Slavic state and had long complained about various

forms of subtle discrimination. There were Polish, Ruthenian, and Hungarian minorities

also, and because even the Slovaks had a strong sense of separate identity, there was in

actuality no preponderant national majority of any kind. The fact that Czechoslovakia had

one of the most enlightened minorities policies in Europe, enjoyed the highest living stan-

dard east of Germany, and was the only country in central Europe in 1938 that was still

democratic only demonstrated the diffi culty of maintaining a democratic, multiethnic state

even under the most favorable of conditions.

Czechoslovakia had become the strategic keystone of Europe. It had a fi rm alliance

with France, by which the French pledged to defend it against German attack, and an alli-

ance with the Soviet Union, which, however, was contingent on the functioning of the

French alliance. With Romania and Yugoslavia it formed the Little Entente, upon which

France relied to maintain the existing boundaries in that part of Europe. It had a well-

trained army, important munitions industries, and strong fortifi cations against Germany,

which, however, were located in precisely the Sudeten border area where the population

was almost all German. When Hitler annexed Austria—because Vienna is further east

than Prague—he enclosed Czechoslovakia in a vise. From the German point of view it

could now be said that western Czechoslovakia, which was almost a third German anyway,

formed a bulge protruding into the German Reich.

The Sudeten Germans of Czechoslovakia, whether Nazis or not, fell under the infl u-

ence of agitators whose aim was less to relieve their grievances than to promote National

Socialism. Hitler fomented their demands for union with Germany. In May 1938 rumors

of an imminent German invasion caused the Czechs to mobilize; Russia, France, and

England issued warnings to Germany. Hitler gave assurances but was nevertheless

determined to smash the Czechs in the autumn. France and England were appalled

by their narrow escape from war. The nervous French acquiesced in the leadership of

Britain, which in the following months strove to avoid any fi rm stand that might precipi-

tate war. The Czechs, under pressure from Britain and France, accepted British media-

tion on the Sudeten issue and in the summer of 1938 offered wide concessions to the

Sudeten Germans amounting to regional autonomy, but this was not enough to satisfy

Hitler, who loudly proclaimed that the plight of the Germans in Czechoslovakia was

intolerable and must be corrected. The Soviets urged a fi rm stand, but the Western pow-

ers had little confi dence in Soviet military strength and, given the Soviet geographical

situation, their ability to render assistance to Czechoslovakia. Moreover, they feared

that fi rmness might mean war. They could not be sure whether Hitler was bluffi ng. He

might, if opposed, back down; but it seemed equally likely, or indeed more so, that he

was entirely willing to fi ght.

As the crisis grew in September 1938, the British prime minister, Neville Chamber-

lain, who had never before traveled on an airplane, fl ew to Germany twice to discuss

Czechs divided

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851

Hitler’s terms for a possible solution to the Czech issues. The second time Hitler raised his

demands so that even the British and French could not accept them. Mobilization began;

war seemed imminent. Suddenly, in the midst of the unbearable tension, Hitler invited

Chamberlain and Edouard Daladier, the French premier, to a four-power conference at

Munich, to be attended by his ally, Mussolini. The Soviet Union and Czechoslovakia itself

were excluded. At Munich Chamberlain and Daladier accepted Hitler’s terms and then put

enormous pressure on the Czech government to yield—to sign its own death warrant.

France, urged on by England in an appeasement course that it was only too willing to fol-

low, repudiated its treaty obligation to protect Czechoslovakia, ignored the Soviets who

reaffi rmed their willingness to aid the Czechs if the French acted, and abandoned its whole

system of a Little Entente in the East. The Munich agreement permitted

Germany to annex the adjoining fringe of Bohemia in which the majority of

the people were Germans. This fringe contained the mountainous

approaches and the Czech fortifi cations, so that its loss left Czechoslovakia

Appeasement: the

Munich agreement

Britain and France accepted Hitler’s demand for German control over the Sudetenland of Czechoslovakia at the Munich conference in September 1938. Although most people in Czechoslovakia deeply resented the western European appeasement of Hitler’s aggressive demands, these Sudeten women welcomed the German troops who streamed into their region almost immediately after the Munich meetings adjourned. (Keystone-France/Gamma-Keystone via Getty Images)

100. The Weakness of the Democracies: Again to War

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Chapter 21 The Second World War852

militarily defenseless. After promises to guarantee the integrity of what remained of

Czechoslovakia, the conference disbanded. Chamberlain and Daladier were welcomed

home with cheers. Chamberlain reported that he had brought “peace in our time.” Again

the democracies sighed with relief, hoped that Hitler had made his last demand, and told

themselves that, with wise concessions, there need be no war.

The Munich crisis, with its death sentence to Czechoslovakia, revealed

the helpless weakness into which the western European democracies had

fallen by 1938. There may have been little that the French and British

could have done at Munich to save Czechoslovakia. Their countries lagged

behind Germany in military preparedness. They had little confi dence in and

were suspicious of the Soviets; and they were impressed by the might of the German army

and air force. Bolder leaders than Daladier and Chamberlain, knowing the state of their

own armed forces, may well have declined to risk a quarrel. The French and British gov-

ernments (and many of the people they represented) desperately wanted peace and would

buy it at a high price, not daring to believe that they were dealing with a blackmailer whose

price would always be raised.

The western Europeans suffered, too, from another moral uncertainty. By the very

principle of national self-determination, accepted by the victors after the First World War,

Germany could argue that it had a right to all that it had hitherto demanded. Hitler, in send-

ing German troops into the German Rhineland, annexing Austria, stirring up Danzig, and

incorporating the Bohemian Germans, had only asserted the right of the German people to

have a sovereign German state. Moreover, if Hitler could be diverted eastward, enmeshed

in a war with Russia, then communism and fascism might destroy each other—so many

in France and Britain might hope. Possibly it was one of Hitler’s motives, in the Munich

crisis, to isolate the Soviet Union from the major western European states. If so, he suc-

ceeded well enough.

End of Appeasement

The fi nal disillusionment came in March 1939. Hitler took control of Bohemia-Moravia,

the really Czech part of Czechoslovakia, which he transformed into a German protector-

ate. Exploiting Slovak nationalism, he declared Slovakia “independent.” Czechoslovakia,

merely trimmed down at Munich, now disappeared from the map. Having promised to

take only a bite, Hitler swallowed the whole. He then seized Memel from Lithuania and

raised demands for Danzig and the Polish Corridor. A horrible realization now spread in

France and Britain. It was clear that Hitler’s most solemn guarantees were worthless, that

his designs were not limited to Germans, but reached out to all eastern Europe and beyond,

that he was essentially insatiable, that he could not be appeased. In April 1939 his partner

in aggression, Mussolini, took over Albania.

The western European powers belatedly began to make preparations for a military

stand. Britain, changing its previous appeasement policies at the eleventh hour, gave a

guarantee to Poland and followed that with guarantees to Romania and Greece. That spring

and summer the British tried to form an anti-German alliance with the U.S.S.R. But Poland

and the Baltic states were unwilling to allow Soviet armies within their borders, even for

the purpose of defending themselves against the Germans. The Anglo-French negotiators

refused to put pressure on them. Because the Poles, in 1920, had conquered more territory

than the Allies had meant them to have, pushing their eastern border well into Byelorussia,

almost to Minsk, the Anglo-French territorial scruples seemed to the Soviets unnecessarily

Western democratic

weakness

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853101. The Years of Axis Triumph

delicate. They did not wish the Germans to launch an attack on them from a point as far

east as Minsk. They may have thought also that what the French and British really wanted

was for the Soviet Union to take the brunt of a Nazi attack. They considered it an affront

that the British sent lesser offi cials as negotiators to Moscow when the prime minister him-

self had three times fl own to Germany to deal with Hitler.

The climax came when the Soviets, having quietly undertaken negotiations earlier

that spring, on August 23, 1939, openly signed a treaty of nonaggression and friendship

with Nazi Germany. In a provision kept secret at the time, it was agreed that in any future

territorial rearrangement the Soviet Union and Germany would divide Poland between

them, that the Soviet Union would enjoy a preponderant infl uence in the

Baltic states and have its claim to Bessarabia, lost to Romania in 1918,

recognized. In return the Soviets pledged to stay out of any war between

Germany and Poland or between Germany and the western European

democracies.

The Nazi-Soviet Pact stupefi ed the world. Communism and Nazism, supposed to be ide-

ological opposites, had come together. A generation more versed in ideology than in power

politics was dumbfounded. The pact was recognized as the signal for war; all last-minute

negotiations failed. The Germans invaded Poland on September 1. On September 3 Great

Britain and France declared war on Germany. The second European war in a generation thus

began in Poland, but it soon spread very widely and became the Second World War.

101. THE YEARS OF AXIS TRIUMPH

Nazi Europe, 1939–1940: Poland and the Fall of France

The Second World War opened with a fast-moving German assault across the western

borders of Poland. German forces totaling over 1 million men, spearheaded by armored

divisions and supported by the concentrated air power of the Luftwaffe, rapidly over- ran western Poland and subdued the ill-equipped Polish armies. The out-

come of the campaign, a spectacular example of Blitzkrieg, or lightning warfare, was clear within the fi rst few days; organized resistance ended

within a month. The Germans set about to integrate their Polish conquest

into the Reich.

Simultaneously, the Soviet Union, acting under the secret clauses of the Nazi-Soviet

Pact, moved into the eastern half of Poland two weeks after the German invasion; the

territory occupied was roughly equivalent to what the new Soviet state had lost to Poland

in 1920. The Soviets proceeded also to establish fortifi ed bases in the Baltic states—

Estonia, Latvia, and Lithuania. Finland resisted Soviet demands. It refused to cede bor-

der territories sought by the Russians or to yield military rights within their country. The

Soviets insisted; Leningrad, the second major city of the U.S.S.R., lay only 20 miles

from the Finnish frontier. When negotiations foundered, the Soviets attacked in Novem-

ber 1939. Finnish resistance was valiant and at fi rst effective, but the small country was

no match for the U.S.S.R. Western European sympathies were with the Finns; the British

and French sent equipment and supplies and even planned an expeditionary force. The

Soviet Union was expelled from the League of Nations for the act of aggression—the only

power ever to be expelled. By March 1940, however, the fi ghting was over. Finland had

to yield somewhat more territory to the U.S.S.R. than originally demanded but retained

its independence.

The Nazi-Soviet

Pact

German Blitzkrieg

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Chapter 21 The Second World War854

Meanwhile all was deceptively quiet in western Europe. The pattern of 1914, when the

Germans reached the Marne in the fi rst month of hostilities, was not repeated. The main

armies did not even move. The French stayed behind their Maginot Line; the British had

few troops on the continent; the Germans did not stir from behind their Siegfried Line, or

West Wall, in the Rhineland. Hardly any air action took place. It was called

the “phony war.” The western European democracies rejected Hitler’s

peace overtures after the conquest of Poland but clung to their peacetime

outlook. The hope still lingered that somehow a real clash might even yet be

averted. During this same strange winter, a cold and bitter one, the Germans put their

forces through special training, whose purpose became apparent in the spring.

On April 9, 1940, the Germans suddenly attacked and overran Norway, ostensibly

because the British were laying mines in Norwegian waters in an endeavor to cut off

German sources of Swedish iron ore. Denmark, too, was overrun, and an Allied expedi-

tionary force with inadequate air strength had to withdraw. Then on May 10, the Germans

delivered their main blow, striking at the Netherlands, Belgium, Luxembourg, and France

itself. Nothing could stand against the German armored divisions and dive bombers.

The Nazi use of massed tanks, though already demonstrated in Poland, took the French

and British by surprise. Strategically, the Allies expected the main advance to be in cen-

tral Belgium, as in 1914, and indeed as in the original German plan, which had been

The “phony war”

The German army launched the massive, far-reaching vio- lence of the Second World War with its motorized assault on Poland. The new term Blitzkrieg was used to describe this kind of rapid military advance, which is represented here by the arrival of German troops in a bombed-out Polish village. Closely supported by air power and moving quickly on motor- cycles, trucks, and armored vehicles, the Germans showed how the new tactics of offensive warfare could overwhelm the defensive strategies that had stopped advancing armies in the First World War. (akg-images/Newscom)

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altered only a few months earlier. Hence the French and British sent into Belgium the

best-equipped troops they had.

But the Germans delivered their main armored thrust, seven divisions, through

Luxembourg and the Ardennes forest, long considered by the French General Staff impass-

able to tanks. In France, skirting the northwestern end of the Maginot Line, which had

never been extended to the sea, the German armored divisions crossed the Meuse, drove

deep into northern France against confused and ineffective resistance and, racing westward

toward the Channel ports, cut off the Allied armies in Belgium. The Dutch, fearful of fur-

ther air attack on their crowded cities, capitulated. The Belgian king sued for an armistice,

and a large part of the French armies surrendered. The British fell back upon Dunkirk and

could hope only to salvage their broken forces before the trap closed completely. Fortu-

nately Hitler had halted the advance of his overextended armored divisions. In the week

ending June 4 an epic evacuation of over 330,000 British and French troops was success-

fully executed from the beaches of Dunkirk, under air cover, with the help of all kinds of

British vessels, manned in part by civilian volunteers, even though the precious equipment

of the shattered army was almost totally abandoned.

In June the mechanized German forces drove relentlessly southward. Despite attempts

at fragmented resistance by French forces (about 100,000 French soldiers died in the Battle

of France), Paris itself was occupied on June 13, and Verdun was occupied two days later;

by June 22 France sued for peace and an armistice was signed. Hitler danced with glee.

France, obsessed by a defensive military psychology at the outset of the war, its armies

unprepared for mechanized warfare, its government divided, its people split into hostile

and suspicious factions, had fallen into the hands of an openly defeatist

group of leaders. The collapse of France left the world aghast. Everyone

knew that France had suffered great losses in the earlier world war and that

it was no longer its former self, but it had still been considered a Great

Power. Its collapse in one month seemed inconceivable. Some French, fl eeing to England,

established a Free French movement under General Charles de Gaulle; others soon began

to form a resistance movement within France. The British made the bitter decision to

destroy a part of the French fl eet anchored in the Algerian harbor of Oran to prevent its

falling into enemy hands.

France itself under the terms of the armistice was occupied in its northern two-thirds

by the Germans. The Third Republic, its capital now at Vichy in the unoccupied southern

third, was transformed by vote of a confused and stunned parliament into an authoritarian

regime headed by the 84-year-old Marshal Pétain and the cynical and unscrupulous Pierre

Laval. The republic was dead; the very slogan “Liberty, Equality, Fraternity” was banned

from offi cial use and replaced by a new right-wing ideology of “Work, Family, Father-

land.” French fascist groups, long frustrated in their campaigns to destabilize or destroy the

Third Republic, now saw their opportunity to undermine republican traditions in French

politics and society. Pétain, Laval, and others, claiming that they were act-

ing to shield France from further suffering, proceeded to collaborate with

the Nazis and to integrate Vichy France into the “new order” in Europe (see

map, p. 864). The Vichy government cooperated in sending hundreds of

thousands of French workers as slave laborers to Germany and even took the initiative in

identifying and deporting thousands of French Jews to what were eventually Nazi death

camps. The French people themselves had hard choices to make. Some chose to cooper-

ate with the collaborators and the victorious Germans; others chose in a variety of ways to

resist, some even joining the underground Resistance; most went about their daily lives,

trying to survive amid the dangerous and oppressive conditions until the fortunes of war

Fall of France

Vichy France

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Chapter 21 The Second World War856

might change. Not for many years after the war did the French admit responsibility as a

nation for the misdeeds and collaborations of the Vichy era.

Mussolini attacked France in June 1940, as soon as it was clear that Hitler had defeated

the French armies. Shortly thereafter, he invaded Greece and moved against the British in

Africa. The Duce tied his own destinies, for good or ill, to those of the Führer. Because the Germans were emphatically the senior partner in this combination, because they were on

good terms with Franco in Spain, and because the U.S.S.R. was benevolently neutral, the

aggressive Nazi war machine now dominated the European continent.

History seemed to repeat itself, in the distant and unreal way in which it ever repeats.

The Germans controlled almost exactly the same geographical area that Napoleon had

controlled in the early nineteenth century. Organizing a new “continental system,” they

made plans to govern, exploit, and coordinate the resources, industry, and labor of Europe.

Not having planned for a long war, and only belatedly mobilizing their resources for a

sustained military effort, they intensifi ed the exploitation of their conquered subjects.

They impressed millions, prisoners of war or civilians, as slave labor, to work under close

control in the German war industries. They garrisoned Europe with their

soldiers, creating what they called Festung Europa, the Fortress of Europe. In every country they found sympathizers, collaborators, or “quislings”—

the prototype was Vidkun Quisling, who had organized a Norwegian

Fascist Party in 1933 and was Norwegian premier from 1942 to 1945. When Hitler later

was at war with the Soviet Union, some Europeans joined Hitler in the crusade against

Bolshevism; 500,000 non-Germans fought in the divisions of the Waffen SS.

The Battle of Britain and American Aid

In 1940, as in 1807, only Great Britain remained at war with the conqueror of Europe.

After Dunkirk the British awaited the worst, momentarily expecting invasion. Winston

Churchill, who replaced Chamberlain as prime minister in May 1940 during the military

debacle, rose to the summit of leadership in adversity. To Parliament and the British peo-

ple he promised nothing but “blood, toil, tears, and sweat.” He pledged implacable war

against “a monstrous tyranny, never surpassed in the dark, lamentable catalogue of human

crime.” To the American democracy across the Atlantic he appealed, “Give us the tools,

and we will fi nish the job.” The United States began to respond.

Since 1939, and even before, the American government had been

anything but neutral. Opinion was excitedly divided. One group, called isola-

tionist, opposed involvement in the European war, believing that Europe was

hopeless, or that the United States could not save it, or that the Germans

would win anyway before America could act, or that Hitler, even if victorious

in Europe, constituted no danger to the United States. Another group, the interventionists,

urged immediate aid to the European Allies, believing that Hitler was a menace, that fascism

must be destroyed, or that the Nazis, if they subjugated all Europe, would soon tamper with

the Latin American republics. President Roosevelt was an interventionist, convinced that

American security and vital interests were endangered by Nazi aggression; he tried to unite

national opinion by declaring that the United States might openly assist the Allies without

itself fi ghting, by using “measures short of war.”

The neutrality legislation of the mid-1930s was amended in November

1939, when the ban on the sale of arms was repealed. Roosevelt described

Britain as “the spearhead of resistance to world conquest”; the United States

Festung Europa

American

“neutrality”

“The great arsenal of

democracy”

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857

was to be “the great arsenal of democracy.” Both were fi ghting for a world, he said, in

which the Four Freedoms were to be secure—freedom of speech, freedom of worship,

freedom from want, and freedom from fear. In June 1940, immediately after Dunkirk,

the United States sent a small initial shipment of arms to Britain. A few months later the

United States gave the British 50 overage destroyers in return for the right to maintain

American bases in Newfoundland, the Bermudas, and the British Caribbean islands.

The rapid, complete military collapse of France in 1940 stunned the French people and indeed the entire world. Parisians faced this humiliating sight of German troops marching through the great symbol of French nationalism, the Arc de Triomphe, as they began to cope with an oppressive German military occupation that would last more than four years. (Berliner Verlag/Archiv/dpa/Corbis)

101. The Years of Axis Triumph

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Chapter 21 The Second World War858

In 1941 it adopted Lend-Lease, a policy of providing arms, raw materials, and food to pow-

ers at war with the Axis. At the same time, in 1940 and 1941, the United States introduced

conscription, built up its army and air force, and projected a two-ocean navy. To protect its

shipping it secured bases in Greenland and Iceland and convoyed Allied shipping as far as

Iceland.

After the fall of France, the Germans stood poised for an invasion of Britain. But they

had not calculated on such rapid and easy successes in Europe, they had no immediately

practical plan for an invasion, and they needed to win control of the air before a sea inva-

sion could take place. Moreover, there was always the hope, in Hitler’s mind at least, that

the British might sue for peace, or even become an ally of Germany. The air assault on

Britain began that summer and reached its climax in the autumn of 1940. Never until then

had any bombing been so severe. But the Germans were unable to win control over the air

in the battle of Britain. Gradually the British Royal Air Force fought off the

bombers with more success; new radar devices helped detect the approach

of enemy planes. Although Coventry was wiped out, the life and indus-

try of other cities badly disrupted, and thousands of people killed, 20,000

in London alone, still the productive activity of the country carried on. Nor, contrary to

the predictions of air power theorists, did the bombings break the morale of the civilian

population.

In the winter of 1940–1941 the Germans began to shift their weight to the east.

Hitler set aside the planned invasion of Britain, for which he seems never to have had

much enthusiasm anyway. He had already decided, like Napoleon before him, that before

committing his resources to an invasion of England he must fi rst dispose of a disliked

“ally” in Russia, a project much closer to his ideology and his illusions.

The Nazi Invasion of Russia: The Russian Front, 1941–1942

The Nazi-Soviet Pact of 1939, which had precipitated the war, like the alliance between

Napoleon and Alexander I, was never a warm or harmonious understanding. Both parties

probably entered it mainly to gain time. The Soviets gained space as well, pushing their

borders westward. Stalin, incredibly, seems to have convinced himself that he could remain

uninvolved in the war going on. But he and the Nazis soon fell into disputes over eastern

Europe. The Soviets, with the Nazis preoccupied by the war, hoped to win complete con-

trol over the Baltic and to gain infl uence in the Balkans as well. They had already occupied

eastern Poland and the three Baltic states and won territory from Finland. In June 1940, to

the chagrin of the Germans, they aggressively sovietized and converted the three Baltic

states into member republics of the U.S.S.R. The old German landowning class, the famous

“Baltic barons,” who had lived there for centuries, were uprooted. At the same time, the

Soviets seized from Romania the Bessarabian province that they had lost in the First World

War and incorporated it too as a Soviet republic. The Soviets were expanding toward the

Balkans, an area of historic Russian interest, and they seemed bent on winning control over

eastern Europe.

This the Germans viewed with dismay. The Nazis wished to reserve eastern Europe

for themselves as a counterpart to industrial Germany. Hitler therefore

moved to bring the Balkans under German control. By early 1941 he black-

mailed or, by territorial concessions, cajoled Romania, Bulgaria, and

Hungary into joining the Axis; they became Axis lesser partners and were

Air war over Britain

Hitler takes the

Balkans

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859

occupied by German troops; Yugoslavia also was occupied despite resistance by the army

and population. Greece, too, was subjugated, the Germans coming to the rescue of

Mussolini’s hard-pressed troops. Hitler thus barred Soviet expansion in the Balkans and

made the Balkan states part of the Nazi new order. The Balkan campaigns delayed his

plans, but now, to crush the Soviets and to gain the wheat harvests of Ukraine and the oil

wells of the Caucasus, the core of the Eurasian “heartland,” Hitler launched a massive

invasion of the U.S.S.R. on June 22, 1941. Stalin, refusing to heed several warnings he

had received, was caught completely by surprise, and momentarily seemed incapable of

mounting any kind of defense.

The German army threw 3 million men into Russia along a vast

2,000-mile front. The Russians gave way. One swift moving battle melted

into another. By the autumn of 1941 the Germans had overrun Byelorussia

and most of Ukraine, where the brutal military occupation led immediately to

Nazi mass murders of Jews, Bolshevik government offi cials, and other civilians. In the north,

Leningrad was in a state of siege; in the south, the Germans had entered the Crimean Pen-

insula and were besieging Sebastopol. And toward the center of the vast front, the Germans

stood, exhausted, but apparently victorious, within 25 miles of Moscow. But the overconfi -

dent German forces had not calculated on the stubbornness of Soviet resistance once Stalin

recovered from his initial shock, replaced some of his military commanders, and rallied the

country to the defense of the Russian motherland. Nor were the Germans prepared to fi ght in

an early and extraordinarily bitter Russian winter, which suddenly descended upon them. A

counteroffensive, launched by the Red Army that winter, saved Moscow.

Hitler, disgusted and impatient with his subordinates, took over direct command of

military operations; he shifted the main attack to the south and began a great offensive in

the summer of 1942 directed toward the oil fi elds of the Caucasus. Sebastopol soon fell;

the siege of Stalingrad began. After the failure to take Moscow, Hitler, aware now that the

war would not be brief, took steps to mobilize the German economy on a fuller wartime

basis. Germany had been ready for war in 1939 as no other major power had been, but

lacked preparation in depth for a protracted confl ict. In the early months of 1942 Hitler

found in Albert Speer an organizing genius who, despite all kinds of obstacles from party

leaders and government functionaries, coordinated labor and resources in the next two

years and tripled armaments production. Nazi Germany and all of its hard-pressed enemies

entered into the absolute mobilization of total war.

1942, the Year of Allied Dismay: Russia, North Africa, the Pacifi c

A year after the invasion of the Soviet Union, in the summer of 1942, the German line

reached from beleaguered Leningrad in the north, past the western outskirts of Moscow, past

Stalingrad on the Volga southward to the Caucasus Mountains; the Germans were within

a hundred miles of the Caspian Sea. But the Russians had traded space for time. Though

the industrial Don Basin and the food-producing regions of Ukraine were overrun, and the

deliveries of Caucasus oil rendered hazardous and uncertain, the Russians continued to fi ght.

Industries were shifted to the new Ural and Siberian cities; and neither the Soviet economy

nor the Soviet government was yet struck in a vital spot. A “scorched earth” policy, in which

the retreating Russians destroyed crops and livestock, and guerrilla units wrecked industrial

and transportation facilities, guaranteed that Russian resources would not fall into the hands

of the advancing conqueror.

The Nazi invasion of

Russia

101. The Years of Axis Triumph

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Simultaneously, late in 1942 the Axis also moved forward in North

Africa. Here the desert campaigns started in September 1940 with an

Italian eastward offensive from Libya, which succeeded in crossing over

into Egypt. The stakes were high—control over Suez and the Mediterranean. At the

height of the battle of Britain, Churchill made the decision to send troops and supplies,

much needed at home, to North Africa. A British counteroffensive against vastly superior

numbers swept the Italians out of Egypt and by early 1941 the British moved deep into

Libya. Shortly thereafter the British overran Ethiopia and ended Mussolini’s short-lived

East African Empire. But in North Africa fortunes were fi ckle. A German elite force,

the Afrika Korps under General Rommel, in the spring of 1941 attacked in Libya and

drove the British back to the Egyptian frontier. A few months later, once more on the

offensive, the British advanced into Libya. Again fortunes shifted. By mid-1942 Rommel

had repulsed the British and penetrated Egypt. The British took up a stand at El Alamein,

70 miles from Alexandria, their backs to the Suez Canal. Here they held the Germans.

But it seemed in 1942 that the Axis armies, breaking through the Soviet Caucasus and

across the isthmus of Suez in North Africa, might enclose the whole Mediterranean and

Middle East in a gigantic vise, and even, moving farther east, make contact with their allies

the Japanese, who were at this time penetrating into the Indian Ocean. For the Pacifi c situ-

ation in the latter half of 1941 had also exploded. It was Japan that fi nally drew the United

States into war.

The Japanese, in 1941, had conducted a war against China for ten years. With the war

raging in Europe and the European imperial powers unable to deploy military forces in

The desert campaigns

The German army’s advance across the Soviet Union opened the way for murder squads to execute large civilian populations whom the Nazis deemed to be “inferior” people. These griev- ing Russians searched for dead family members after the Nazis had moved through their city in early 1942. (Dmitri Baltermants/The Dmitri Baltermants Collection/Corbis)

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861102. The Western-Soviet Victory

their Asian colonies, Japanese expansionists saw a propitious moment to

assert themselves throughout east Asia. In 1940 they cemented their alli-

ance with Germany and Italy in a new three-power pact; the following year

they concluded a neutrality treaty with the Soviet Union. From the Vichy

French government the Japanese obtained a number of military bases and other conces-

sions in Indochina. The United States belatedly placed an embargo on the export of such

materials as scrap iron and steel to Japan. Hesitating to precipitate any all-out drive of the

Japanese toward the Dutch East Indies and elsewhere, the United States still sought some

defi nition of Japanese ambitions in southeast Asia. The new Japanese prime minister,

General Hideki Tojo, a staunch champion of the Axis, publicly proclaimed that the infl u-

ence of Britain and the United States was to be totally eliminated from Asia, but he agreed

to send representatives to Washington for negotiations.

At the very time that the Japanese representatives in Washington were carrying on

conversations with the Americans, on December 7, 1941, without warning, the Japanese

launched a heavy air raid on the American naval base at Pearl Harbor in

Hawaii and began to invade the Philippines. Simultaneously, they launched

attacks on Guam, Midway, Hong Kong, and Malaya. The Americans were

caught off guard at Pearl Harbor; close to 2,500 were killed, the fl eet was

crippled, and the temporary disablement of the American naval forces allowed the Japa-

nese to roam at will in the western Pacifi c. The United States and Great Britain declared

war on Japan on December 8. Three days later Germany and Italy declared war on the

United States, as did the Axis puppet states; the war had become a global struggle.

The Japanese, working overland through Malaya, two months later captured Singa-

pore, a British colonial city and naval base long famous for its supposed impregnability, the

veritable Gibraltar of the East. In 1942 the Japanese conquered the Philippines, Malaya,

and the Netherlands Indies. They invaded New Guinea and threatened Australia; they

moved into the Aleutians. They streamed into the Indian Ocean, threatening the main cen-

ters of the British Empire in South Asia. They took control of Burma and seemed about

to invade India. Everywhere they found ready collaborators among Asian enemies of

European imperialism. They held up the idea of a Greater East Asia Co-Prosperity Sphere

under Japanese leadership, in which the one clear element (apart from the dominance of

Japan) was that the Europeans should be ejected.

Meanwhile, as noted, the Germans stood at the Caucasus and almost at the Nile. And

in the Atlantic, German submarines were sinking Allied ships at a disastrous rate. The

Mediterranean was unusable. For the Soviet-Western alliance, 1942 was the year of dis-

may. Despite Allied naval and air victories in the Pacifi c, the late summer

and autumn of 1942 was the worst period of the war. Few realized, wrote

the United States Chief of Staff General George C. Marshall some years

later, how “close to complete domination of the world” were Germany and

Japan and “how thin the thread of Allied survival had been stretched.” That Germany and

Japan had no plans to concert their strategy and operations was no small factor in the even-

tual Allied victory.

102. THE WESTERN-SOVIET VICTORY

Plans and Preparations, 1942–1943

By January 1942 there were 26 nations, including the three Great Powers—Britain, the

United States, and the U.S.S.R.—and representing every continent, aligned against the

Pearl Harbor

The year of dismay

Japan and the Pacifi c

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Chapter 21 The Second World War862

Axis, a combination to which President Roosevelt gave the name the United Nations. Each

pledged to use all its resources to defeat the Axis and never to make a separate peace. The

Grand Alliance against the Axis aggressors, which could not be created in the 1930s, had

at last been consummated.

The two Atlantic democracies, the United States and Great Britain, pooled their

resources under a Combined Chiefs of Staff. Never had any two sovereign states formed so

close a coalition. In contrast with the First World War an overall strategy

was in effect from an early date. It was decided that Germany was the main

enemy, against which it was necessary to concentrate fi rst. For the time

being the Pacifi c war was relegated to the background. Australia became

the chief base for operations against the Japanese. The American navy and air force soon

brought Japanese southward expansion to a halt and frustrated Japanese efforts to cut off

supply lines to Australia; naval and air victories were won in the spring of 1942 in the

battle of the Coral Sea and at Midway, the only relief to the overall gloom of that period.

The Japanese threat to Britain’s imperial position in South Asia began to recede. In the

summer American forces landed at Guadalcanal in the Solomon Islands. A long ordeal of

“island hopping” began, but the Americans and British built up their main forces for the

war in Europe.

The fi rst point of concentration for the British-American strategic war plan in Europe

was an air bombardment of Germany. Meanwhile Stalin called for a true “second front,” an

immediate invasion by Allied ground forces that would relieve the pressure of the German

divisions that were devastating the Soviet Union. Suspicious as ever of the Western capitalist

governments and their military priorities, the Soviet government regarded the failure to

establish a second front as new evidence of anti-Soviet feeling. But neither the United States

nor Britain, in 1942, was ready to undertake land action by a direct assault on Festung Europa. Although in the Second World War, as in the First, more than two years elapsed between the outbreak of war in Europe and the intervention of the United States; and

although in the second war American military preparations began much

sooner, the United States in 1942 was still involved in the cumbersome pro-

cesses of mobilization, converting its industry to the production of war mate-

rials for itself and its Allies, imposing controls on its economy to prevent a

runaway infl ation, and giving military training to its profoundly civilian-minded people, of

whom over 12 million men and women eventually served in the armed forces—over three

times as many as in the First World War.

The American home front was transformed like the societies of other

warring nations into a war economy. The government introduced the

kinds of wartime policies and controls that had already been enacted in

Britain. It carefully rationed the sale of food and essential materials such

as oil and rubber, sold millions of “war bonds,” distributed thousands of war posters to

sustain civilian morale, and worked closely with the nation’s industrial companies to pro-

duce vast quantities of ships, warplanes, tanks, and every kind of military armament and

equipment. Persons of all racial and ethnic groups found new jobs in the expanding indus-

trial workforce. The total mobilization, however, led also to new forms of racial exclu-

sion. Black Americans remained segregated in the armed forces; and more than 100,000

Japanese-Americans on the West Coast were forcibly evacuated to internment camps,

where they remained until the end of the war. The national mobilization had different

effects on the social and economic positions of women. Large numbers of American

women, as in Britain, and more so than in the First World War, took wartime jobs in the

A unifi ed strategy

War preparations

The home front

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863

military, in defense industries, and in other spheres of the national economy. In con-

trast, almost to the end, Nazi ideology placed obstacles in the way of utilizing women in

German factories.

During the fi rst year after the United States entered the war, German submarines con-

trolled enough of the Atlantic shipping lanes to threaten the transport of American troops

and war supplies. In effect, the risk of Atlantic crossings blockaded much of the American

army in the United States. The American and British navies, however, gradually won the

battle of the Atlantic; the submarine menace was reduced to tolerable proportions by the

fi rst part of 1943. The Americans and British decided to begin the assault upon Germany,

from Great Britain as a base, with a massive and prolonged air bombardment. Because pre-

cision bombardment of factories and other military targets proved diffi cult either by day or

by night, the air assaults became area bombings; German cities were bombed mercilessly,

and (as in the German air attacks on British cities) most of the casualties were civilians. In

Hamburg in 1943 fi res raged on and destroyed most of the city after several days of inces-

sant bombing. Because not everything could be shipped across the Atlantic at the same

The Second World War quickly became a “total war” for which men and women were widely mobilized in every warring nation. These women were receiving their pay as members of Britain’s Auxiliary Territorial Service (ATS), a women’s branch of the British army that sup- ported diverse military operations both within Britain and in other countries. (Popperfoto/Getty Images)

102. The Western-Soviet Victory

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Chapter 21 The Second World War864

time, and because the United States and Britain were engaged in war with Japan as well,

land invasion had to be deferred until 1944. The embattled Russians questioned whether

the Western Allies ever meant to face the German army at all.

The Turning of the Tide, 1942–1943: Stalingrad, North Africa, Sicily

Meanwhile, at the end of 1942 the tide had begun to turn. In November an Anglo-American

force under the command of General Dwight D. Eisenhower gained control of the French-

held territories in Algeria and Morocco after an amphibious operation of unprecedented

EUROPE 1942 The map shows Europe at the height of Axis military success during the Second World War. Austria, the Sudetenland, Bohemia-Moravia, Poland, and Alsace-Lorraine were all joined to Hitler’s Reich. The Atlantic Coast from southern France to northern Norway was under German military occupation, as was much of Russia. Southern Europe from Vichy France to Romania was also occupied or allied with Germany.

Hitler's “Empire”

Allied With Germany

Occupied by the Axis

At War Against the Axis

0 200100 300 miles

Relations between the Axis and Vichy France were governed by the Armistice of June 1940, but Germany occupied the whole of France in November 1942.

Farthest Axis Penetration

December 1941 November 1942

SHETLAND IS. (Britain)

ORKNEY IS.

FAROE IS. (Denmark)

CORSICA (Vichy France)

SARDINIA (Italy)BALEARIC IS.

(Spain)

A R C T I C O C E A N

ATLANTIC OCEAN

N o r t h S e a

English C hannel

Rh in

e R .

A d riatic

Sea

Danube R.

Dniester R.

Elbe R.

L. Ladoga

L. Onega

V o

lg a

R .

White Sea

D onetz R.

Do n R

.

B l a c k S e a

C a s p

i a n

S e a

Ba lti

c Se

a

A egean

Sea

M e d i t e r r a n e a n S e a

North Cape

ICELAND

UNITED KINGDOM

EIRE

NORTHERN IRELAND

S P A I N

PORTUGAL

NETHERLANDS

BELGIUM

GERMANY

F R A N C E

SWITZERLAND

LUX.

MOROCCO (Vichy France)

ALGERIA (Vichy France) TUNISIA

(Vichy France)

ITALY

MALTA (Britain)

CROATIA

A LB

A N

IA

BULGARIA

GREECE

ROMANIA

SERBIA

SICILY

CRETE

BESSA RA

BIA ESTONIA

LITHUANIA LATVIA

AUSTRIA

UKRAINE

POLAND

SLOVA KIA

DENMARK

FINLAND NORWAY

SWEDEN

T U R K

E Y

CRIMEA

TRANSCAUCASIA

PALESTINE TRANS- JORDAN

LEBANON

CYPRUS (Britain)

SYRIA

IRAQ

BOHEMIA MORAVIA

SUDETEN- LAND

SPANISH MOROCCO

BYELO-RUSSIA SUWALKI

E. PRUS.

SAUDI ARABIA

IRAN

S O V I E T U N I O N

H U N G A R Y

Reykjavík

London

Dublin

Dunkirk

Paris

Madrid

Lisbon

Bilbao

Barcelona

Cadiz Gibraltar (Britain)

Tangier

Casablanca Oran

Algiers Bizerte

Bordeaux Vichy

Brest

Toulon

Cologne Essen

Sedan

Rome

Belgrade

Vienna Budapest

Sofia

Athens

Bucharest

Cassino

Palermo

Munich

Istanbul

Memel

Riga

HelsinkiOslo

Stockholm

Copenhagen

Berlin Warsaw

Bergen

Danzig

Breslau

Hamburg

Leningrad

Kiev

Narvik

Moscow

Archangel

Smolensk

Kuibyshev

Kkarkov

Sevastopol

Ankara

Batum

Rostov

Stalingrad

Astrakhan

Grozny

Baghdad

Tabriz

Baku

Coventry Rotterdam

Taranto Salerno

Anzio

Murmansk

Maikop

Yalta

Tula

Nuremburg

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865

proportions. In the competition that developed in the succeeding months for leadership of

the French liberation committee, newly established in Algiers, General de Gaulle, though

virtually ignored by President Roosevelt, pushed aside all rivals and moved forward with

plans for France’s revival.

After the North African landings, the Germans took over control of unoccupied

France as well; they were frustrated, however, in the effort to seize the remainder of the

French fl eet when French crews scuttled their ships at Toulon. In North Africa the Allied

forces fought their way eastward into Tunisia. Meanwhile British forces under General

Montgomery, having held the Germans at El Alamein in June 1942, had

already launched their third (and fi nal) counteroffensive in October; they

now pushed the Germans westward from Egypt until a large German

force was crushed between the two Allied armies in Tunisia. By May

1943 Africa was cleared of Axis forces. Mussolini’s dream of an African

empire had been thwarted; the Mediterranean was open; the threat to Egypt and the Suez

Canal ended.

At the same time it became clear, in the winter of 1942–1943, that the Germans had

suffered a catastrophic reversal in the Soviet Union in the titanic battle of

Stalingrad. In August 1942 massive German forces, an army of well over

a quarter million, began an all-out assault on Stalingrad, the vital key to

all transport on the lower Volga River; by September they had penetrated

the city itself. Stalin ordered his namesake city held at all costs; Russian soldiery and

the civilian population mounted a desperate defense. Hitler, still gambling on a decisive,

crushing victory, was as obstinate in ordering the city taken. After weeks of fi ghting, the

Germans occupied most of the city when suddenly a great Red Army counterattack, led

by General Zhukov, trapped the German army and took a terrible toll. Fewer than 100,000

German soldiers were still alive in Stalingrad when their commander fi nally surrendered

in February 1943; and the aura of Germany’s military invincibility was permanently shat-

tered. The Soviets followed up their victory with a new counteroffensive, a great westward

Africa cleared of Axis

forces

Stalingrad

The destruction of cities and loss of life on the eastern front during the Second World War went far beyond the destruction and losses in all other theaters of the war. This photograph of Stalingrad at the time of the huge, extended battle for that city suggests the incredible deso- lation and losses that resulted from the fi ghting and the vast movement of armies across the Soviet Union and all of eastern Europe. (akg-images/Newscom)

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Chapter 21 The Second World War866

drive that regained for them what they had initially lost in the fi rst year of the war. After

Stalingrad, despite some setbacks, the Soviet Union was on the offensive for the remain-

der of the war. Stalingrad (or Volgograd as it was later renamed) became a turning point

not only in the history of the war but in the history of central and eastern Europe as well.

American equipment meanwhile arrived in the Soviet Union in prodigious quantities.

The terms of Lend-Lease were liberally extended to the Soviets; a stream of American

vehicles, clothing, food, and supplies of all kinds made its way laboriously to the U.S.S.R.

through the Arctic Ocean and through the Persian Gulf. Machinery and equipment were

sent for the Soviet arms plants, which were themselves vastly increasing their output.

Anglo-American bombing meanwhile was cutting into German airplane production at

home. The Allied contribution to the Soviet war effort was indispensable, but Russian

human losses were tremendous. Between 20 and 25 million people in the Soviet Union

died from war-related causes. More than two-thirds of these casualties were civilians;

many had been killed early in the war by Nazi murder squads whose assignment was to

eliminate all so-called “undesirable” persons from territories occupied by the German

army. But the number of battle deaths alone went far beyond Allied losses in other military

theaters of the war. The Soviet Union lost more men in the battle of Stalingrad, for exam-

ple, than the United States lost in combat during the entire war in all the-

aters combined.

With contemporary American successes against Japanese forces in the

Solomon Islands at the end of 1942 and the slow throttling of German sub-

marines in the Atlantic, there was new hope for the Allies on all fronts.

In a spectacular campaign in July–August 1943, the British, Canadians, and Americans

conquered the island of Sicily. Mussolini fell from power, and the 21-year-old Fascist

regime came to an end. Mussolini set up an “Italian Social Republic” in the north, but it

was no more than a German puppet government. Some months later, in April 1945, the

Duce, as he attempted to fl ee the country, was seized and shot by anti-Fascist Italians.

When the new Italian government under Marshal Badoglio, in August 1943, tried to make

peace, the German army occupied Italy. The Allies, having crossed to the Italian mainland

from Sicily, attacked from the south. In October the Badoglio government declared war

on Germany, and Italy was recognized by the Allies as a “cobelligerent.” But the Germans

stubbornly blocked the advance of the Allies to Rome despite new Allied landings and

beachheads. The Italian campaign turned into a long and disheartening stalemate because

the Allies, concentrating troops in Britain for the approaching cross-Channel invasion,

could never spare enough for the Italian front.

The Allied Offensive in Europe, 1944–1945

Festung Europa, especially along its western approaches, the coasts of Holland, Belgium, and France, bristled with every kind of fortifi cation that German scientifi c and military

ingenuity could devise. A seaborne attack upon these coasts clearly differed from the ear-

lier amphibious attacks on Algeria, Sicily, or the Pacifi c islands in that the German defend-

ers, in the part of Europe where the road and railway network was thickest, could

immediately rush overwhelming reserves to the spot attacked—except insofar as feinting

tactics kept the Germans uncertain, air power destroyed their transport, or the Russians

held the bulk of their forces tied down on the eastern front. Precise and elaborate plans

were developed for the Allied assault. Ten thousand aircraft were to provide aerial protec-

tion, scores of warships were to bombard the coast, 4,000 ships were to carry the invading

New hope for the

Allies

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867

troops and their supplies across the Channel, and artifi cial harbors were to be created

where none existed.

The invasion of western Europe began before dawn on June 6, 1944.

The spot selected was the coast of Normandy directly across the Channel

from England; false intelligence reports, planted by the Allies, led the

Germans to expect the main thrust, when it occurred, to be at Calais. An

unparalleled combination of forces—British, Canadian, and American, land, sea, and

air, backed up by huge accumulations of supplies and troops assembled in Great Britain,

and the whole under the unifi ed command of General Eisenhower—assaulted the French

coast, established a beachhead, and maintained a front. The Allies poured in their strength,

over 130,000 men the fi rst day, 1 million within a month. After heavy fi ghting around the

town of Saint-Lô in early July, the Germans were thrown back more easily than had been

expected. By August Paris was liberated, and by September the Allies crossed the frontier

of Germany itself. In France, Italy, and Belgium the men and women in the underground

Resistance movements, which had grown up in secret during the years of German occu-

pation, came into the open and drove out Germans and pro-German collaborators. In

Germany itself no widespread or deeply rooted Resistance movement ever developed, but

a small group of Germans, military and civilian, formed an underground. On July 20, 1944,

after the failure of earlier efforts, the members of this group attempted to assassinate Hitler

by exploding a bomb at his military headquarters in East Prussia; Hitler was only injured

and took a fearsome revenge on the conspirators.

In August, in another amphibious operation, the Allies landed on the French Mediter-

ranean coast and swept up from southern France to join the Allied forces advancing against

stiffening resistance. At one point, as the Allied forces moved beyond France, their offen-

sive suffered a serious reversal. A sudden German attack under Hitler’s direct personal

orders in December 1944 was launched against thinly held American lines on the Belgian

sector in the Ardennes, creating a vulnerable “bulge” in the advancing armies and causing

heavy losses and confusion. But the Allies rallied, and Hitler used up his last armored

reserves in the effort. Neither the Ardennes counteroffensive nor the new destructive

weapons rained on Britain, jet-propelled fl ying bombs and rockets, opening up the missile

age, availed the Germans. All this time the Americans and British kept up their massive air

bombardments, destroying many of Germany’s industrial cities and killing over 50,000

civilians in the fi re-bombing of Dresden in February 1945. On the ground they pushed on

and smashed through the heavily fortifi ed Siegfried Line. The last natural obstacle,

the Rhine, was crossed when in March 1945 American forces by a stroke of luck discov-

ered an undestroyed bridge at Remagen; they poured troops over it and established a

bridgehead—the fi rst troops to cross the Rhine in combat since the armies of Napoleon.

The main crossing, under the British, subsequently took place farther to the north. Soon the

Allies were accepting wholesale surrenders in the Ruhr Valley.

Meanwhile in 1944 the Russian armies swept the Germans from

Ukraine, Byelorussia, the Baltic states, and eastern Poland. By August they

reached the suburbs of Warsaw. The Polish underground rose against the

Germans, but the Soviets, determined that Poland not be liberated by non-Communist

Polish leadership, refused to permit aid to the rising, and it was crushed, with a heavy loss

of Polish lives. Earlier, in 1943, the mass graves of thousands of Polish prisoners of war,

mainly offi cers, had been found by the Germans in the Katyn Forest. Despite continuing

Soviet denials at the time, documents in the Russian archives later revealed that they had

been shot by the Red Army on Stalin’s orders in 1940, after the Soviet Union had joined

The invasion of

Europe

The eastern front

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Chapter 21 The Second World War868

THE SECOND WORLD WAR These two maps show the global character of the war and the central position of the United States with respect to the European and Pacifi c theaters. The numbered legends summarize the successive stages of the war in both the Eastern and Western Hemispheres. In 1942, with the Germans reaching as far east as Egypt and Stalingrad and the Japanese as far west as Burma, the great danger to the Soviet-Western alliance was that these two might join forces, dominate southern Asia, control the oil resources of the Persian Gulf, and stop the fl ow of Western supplies to the Soviet Union from this direction. The almost simultaneous Soviet- Western successes, late in 1942, at Stalingrad and El Alamein, and in the invasion of Morocco- Algeria and of Guadalcanal, proved to be the turning point of the war. In 1943 the German submarine campaign in the Atlantic was defeated, so that American troops and supplies could

Allied Thrusts

Lend-Lease Supply Lines

Hitler's "Empire"

Allied with Germany

Occupied by the Axis

At War Against the Axis

GREENLAND (Denmark)

NORTH

POLE

AZORES (Portugal)

CANARY IS. (Spain)

CAPE VERDE IS. (Portugal)

AT L A N T I C O C E A N

Panama Canal

Suez Canal

NORWAY FIN-

LAND

SWEDEN

GERMANY DEN.

UNITED KINGDOM

FRANCE

SPAIN

PORTUGAL

ITALY

SOVIET UNION

IRAN

TURKEY

TUNISIA

LIBYA EGYPT

ALGERIA (France)

FRENCH MOROCCO

FRENCH WEST AFRICA

FRENCH EQUATORIAL

AFRICA ITALIAN

SOM.

BRAZIL

VENEZUELA

CUBA

UNITED STATES

CANADA

ICELAND

4. Greatest Axis Expansion, December 1941–November 1942

6. Germany Surrenders May 8, 1945

1. Hitler Invades Poland September 1, 1939

2. France Surrenders June 22, 1940

5. Allies Invade: North Africa, November 8, 1942 Normandy Coast, June 6, 1944

3. United States: Bases-Destroyer Deal, September 2, 1940 Enacts Lend-Lease, March 11, 1941 Enters the War December 8, 1941

Dakar

Casablanca Oran

El Alamein

Stalingrad

Kuibyshev

Moscow

Murmansk

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869

with Germany in partitioning Poland. The Russians, their lines now overextended, and

checked for several months by German strength in Poland, pushed southward into Roma-

nia and Bulgaria; both countries changed sides and declared war against Germany. Early

in 1945 the Soviets, reopening their offensive, forced their way into East Prussia and

Silesia and by February reached the Oder River, 40 miles from Berlin, where Zhukov

Japanese Empire 1940

Occupied by Japan, June 1942

At War against Japan, August 7, 1945

Supply Lines

Allied Land or Naval Attacks

Allied Air Thrusts

Soviet Thrusts into Manchuria and Korea

ALEU TIA

NS

Attu

Kiska

Sakhalin

Karafuto

OkinawaFORMOSA

Sumatra

Borneo

Java Celebes

Leyte

PHILIPPINE IS.

Palau

Yap Guam

CAROLINE IS.

Truk

New Guinea

Iwo Jima

MARIANA IS. Saipan Tinian

Wake

Eniwetok

Kwajalein

MARSHALL IS.

SOLOMON IS.

GILBERT IS.

Guadalcanal

New Hebrides (Britain & France) FIJI IS. (Britain)

Howland (U.S.A.)

Tutuila (U.S.A.)

Midway

HAWAIIAN IS. (U.S.A.)

B e r i n g S e a Bay of Bengal

P A C I F I C O C E A N

C O R A L S e a

I N D I A N O C E A N

CANADA ALASKA

UNITED STATES

SOVIET UNION MONGOLIA

MANCHUKUO

JAPAN

KOREA

SINKIANG

TIBET

C H I N A

INDIA

BURMA

THAI- LAND

INDO- CHINA

AUSTRALIA

NEW ZEALAND

2. Greatest Japanese Expansion June 1942

5. Soviet Union Enters the War August 8, 1945

4. U.S. Forces Reoccupy the Philippines October 1944

1. Japan Attacks Pearl Harbor December 7, 1941

6. Atomic Bombs Dropped on Hiroshima and Nagasaki August 1945 Japan Surrenders September 2, 1945

3. U.S. Forces Land on Guadalcanal August 7, 1942

Dutch Harbor

Seattle

San Francisco

Tokyo Nagasaki

Vladivostok

Peiping

Shanghai

Chungking

Canton Hong Kong

Singapore

Manila

Hiroshima

Hollandia

Port Moresby

Pearl Harbor

Sydney

move more freely to Europe. The invasion of Normandy in June 1944, with continuing Rus- sian pressure from the east, brought about the German surrender in May 1945. Meanwhile, in the Pacifi c, American occupation of the islands and reoccupation of the Philippines prepared the way for the surrender of Japan, which followed the dropping of two atomic bombs in August 1945.

102. The Western-Soviet Victory

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Chapter 21 The Second World War870

paused to regroup his forces. In March and April Russian forces occupied Budapest

and Vienna.

The fi nal drive on Germany began. Hitler moved troops from the col-

lapsing western front to reinforce German positions on the Oder and to

protect his capital. In April the Americans reached the Elbe, about 60 miles

from Berlin, with hardly any obstacles before them; but here they halted, by

decision of General Eisenhower. The Americans, whose supply lines were

already overextended, wanted a clear line of demarcation from the Russians; they also

believed it necessary to divert forces southward against a possible German last stand in

The fi nal drive on

Germany

THE HOLOCAUST This map shows the loss of life that resulted from what the Nazis called their “Final Solution”— that is, their systematic genocidal program of destroying the Jews and Judaism. Before the Second World War most European Jews lived in Poland and the adjoining parts of the Soviet Union. The Germans occupied all of these areas during the war, and most deaths occurred in these territories. The map shows both the number killed in each country and the percentage of its Jewish population that were victims of this deliberate genocide. The numbers add up to about 6 million men, women, and children, or an estimated two-thirds of the Jewish popula- tion of Europe as a whole. Although word of this annihilation policy reached the outside world through the Vatican and other sources, the Allied leaders at fi rst disbelieved the reports, and then, giving priority to their military objectives, did nothing to stop the systematic slaughter.

Percentage of Jewish Population Annihilated

83–90

65–77

50–60

11–26 Figures indicate number of Jews killed under Nazi Racial Policies (in thousands)

FRANCE 90

NETHERLANDS 105

BELGIUM 40

GERMANY AND AUSTRIA

210

ITALY 8

YUGOSLAVIA 26

CZECHOSLOVAKIA 155

POLAND 3,000

BALTIC STATES

228

NORWAY 1

BYELORUSSIAN S.S.R. 245

RUSSIAN S.S.R. 107

UKRAINIAN S.S.R. 900

ROMANIA 300

BULGARIA 14

HUNGARY 450

GREECE 54

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871

the Alps. But mainly the decision was made as a gesture of goodwill toward the Russians,

who were to be permitted to take Berlin as compensation for their heavy sacrifi ces in the

common cause, and to preserve the Western-Soviet coalition until fi nal victory. Similarly,

the American troops that moved southward were held back from taking Prague, and the

Soviets were permitted to take the Czech capital too. At the end of the war the Soviets

were therefore in control of all the major capitals of central and eastern Europe—a military

situation that would carry major political consequences.

The Allies offered no terms to Hitler nor to any Germans. They demanded uncondi-

tional surrender, and the Germans fought on in the very streets of Berlin. On the last day

of April Hitler perished by his own hand in the ruins of his capital after denouncing some

of his closest party subordinates as traitors. Admiral Doenitz, designated by Hitler as his

successor, went through the formalities of surrender on May 8, 1945. Because fi ghting had

already ceased on the Italian front a few days earlier, the war in Europe was over.

Allied troops found horrifying evidence of mass murder as they entered death camps and con- centration camps that the Nazis had constructed throughout Germany and central Europe. These emaciated survivors were liberated from the camp at Buchenwald, where they had been forced to work as slave laborers and where more than 40,000 people had died. This group includes Elie Wiesel (seventh from left in second level, near the vertical beam), who would later write searing descriptions of the camps and of the Holocaust. (National Archives, Washington, DC/The Art Archive at Art Resource, NY)

102. The Western-Soviet Victory

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Chapter 21 The Second World War872

The Holocaust

Meanwhile a generation reared to mistrust the fabricated atrocity tales of the First World

War painfully and belatedly became aware of the real German horrors of the Second—

hostages rounded up and shot in reprisal for resistance; whole villages like Lidice in

Czechoslovakia or Oradour-sur-Glane in France razed to the ground and their inhabitants

slain or deported; concentration camps like Dachau and Buchenwald, where the prison-

ers were given minimal rations and worked to death, and where Allied troops found only

pitifully emaciated survivors; above all, the mass death camps with gas chambers and

crematory ovens at Auschwitz (where at its peak 12,000 victims a day were gassed to

death), Treblinka, Belzéc, Sobibor, and others, where peoples whom the Nazis deemed

“inferior” could be systematically liquidated.

In the areas of Nazi domination in eastern Europe, the Nazis fi rst used special fi ring

squads and mobile gas units to kill “undesirables,” but Hitler’s murderous ambitions could

not be achieved through such temporary or improvised methods of killing in the country-

side. As the war went on, the more unstructured forms of mass murder were replaced by a

systematically organized, European-wide system for gathering people at “collection” cen-

ters and transporting millions of men, women, and children in railroad cattle cars to the

mass death camps where some were worked to death and others were put to death at once.

By far the largest proportion killed were some 6 million Jews, but millions of other Poles,

Russians, other Slavic peoples, Gypsies, and others were slain as well—either in the death

camps or in various killing fi elds throughout Europe.

Many of the plans for systematic annihilation of the Jews, which would come to be

known and remembered after the war as the Holocaust, were decided upon at a high-level

Nazi meeting at Wannsee in January 1942. In the genocidal view of Nazi planners such

as Heinrich Himmler, these policies would provide the wartime “Final Solution” to the

so-called “Jewish problem” that Hitler had agitated with maniacal racist fury for so many

years. Genocide, the planned, systematic effort to destroy a whole people,

was the greatest of the Nazi sins against humanity. Although there have

been mass murders in many other places and eras of human history, the

genocidal attack on European Jews had a uniquely modern scale and sci-

entifi c organization, which explains in part why it has produced such painful memories

and questions for later generations. How could such murderous events occur in the heart

of modern European civilization? The fact that the Holocaust was carried out by ordinary

people and bureaucrats raises pointed questions about individual and collective responsi-

bilities for deadly government policies, about the danger of misused, modern technologies,

and about the destructive consequences of racist ideologies.

Survivors described extraordinary acts of courage and human will among the prison-

ers in Nazi death camps, but the Holocaust has become the modern world’s most terrifying

example and memory of systematic murder and human brutality. And although it was easy

enough to blame the Holocaust on Hitler and the other rabid leaders of the Nazi regime,

the most haunting aspect of these massive crimes may have come from the unquestion-

ing participation of so many anonymous followers. One of the few survivors from the

camp at Auschwitz, the Italian Jewish writer Primo Levi, summarized the problem that

reappears constantly in later historical, ethical, and political refl ections on the Holocaust

and suggests why this event remains so memorable in modern world history. “We must

remember,” Levi wrote, “that these faithful followers, among them the diligent executors

of inhuman orders, were not born torturers, were not (with a few exceptions) monsters:

The “fi nal solution”

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873

they were ordinary men. Monsters exist, but they are too few in number to be truly danger-

ous. More dangerous are the common men, the functionaries ready to believe and to act

without asking questions.”

The Last Phase of the War in the Pacifi c and the Atomic Bomb: 1944–1945

In the Pacifi c, American operations against Japan had dragged on for three years, hampered

by the strategic decision of the Allies to concentrate against Germany fi rst. Slowly,

from points in the Solomon Islands, the easternmost fringe of the Indonesian archipelago,

American forces worked their way in a northwesterly direction toward faraway Japan,

fi ghting against stubborn entrenched Japanese resistance and at heavy cost. Finally, in a

protracted and bloody battle lasting over 2½ months, in the spring of 1945 they won the

island of Okinawa, only 300 miles from Japan itself. Okinawa was captured just as the

Germans collapsed in Europe. From the new Allied bases on islands that the Americans

had won in their long offensive campaign and from aircraft carriers at sea, a crushing air

offensive was launched against Japan, shattering Japanese industry, destroying the rem-

nants of the Japanese navy, and compelling the Japanese government to give serious

thought to suing for peace. The Allied leaders refused to believe, however, that Japanese

defenses were ready to crumble or that the Japanese were ready to negotiate. The American

army prepared to shift combat troops from the European theater to Asia.

The stage was being set for a full-scale invasion of Japan itself.

Then, on August 6, 1945, an American aircraft dropped an atomic

bomb—built in the United States in utmost secrecy by European refugee

and American scientists—on the city of Hiroshima, with a population of

200,000 people. The city was destroyed in this single explosion, and about 100,000 lives

were lost; thousands of others were injured or suffered the long-term effects of radia-

tion. Two days later, the Soviet Union, which had pledged to enter the confl ict in the East

within three months after the surrender of Germany, declared war on Japan and invaded

Manchuria. On August 9 a second American atomic bomb struck Nagasaki and killed

approximately 60,000 more. The atomic bombs and the Soviet declaration of war drove

the Japanese to make peace at once. On September 2, 1945, the formal surrender was

signed. The emperor was permitted to remain as head of state, but Japan was placed under

a United States army of occupation.

Meanwhile, the atomic bomb, like the death camps of the Holocaust, soon became

another haunting memory and symbol of the new forms of violence and mass destruction

that a staggeringly costly global war had bequeathed to humanity. It was probably true,

as American leaders insisted at the time and in retrospect, that the atomic bomb was the

least costly way (in terms of American and European lives) for the United States to bring

the war in Japan to a rapid, victorious conclusion; but it is also true that the introduction

of this hugely destructive weapon brought instant death to large civilian populations, cre-

ated an unprecedented new threat to human survival, and set up an endless danger that has

loomed over the modern world ever since. European history would thus evolve, after 1945,

in an international context that always included the annihilating possibilities of atomic

weaponry.

The Second World War of the twentieth century was over, the greatest confl ict in

human history. The same cold impersonal statistics that had recorded 10 million killed in

the First World War reported 15 million military deaths and (unlike the First World War)

more than twice as many civilian fatalities. Soviet military deaths were estimated at over

The atomic bomb

102. The Western-Soviet Victory

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Chapter 21 The Second World War874

The human consequences of Nazi brutalities appear in this picture of a Nazi concentration camp near the German city of Ohrdruf in early May 1945. American soldiers were making their way through the camp, where the Nazis had subjected Poles, Czechs, German Jews, and German political prisoners to forced labor and then shot or fl ogged to death the internees who could no longer work. (Bettmann/Corbis)

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6 million, German at 3.5 million, Chinese at 2.2 million, Japanese at 1.3 million, Polish at

700,000. British and Commonwealth losses were over 400,000, American about 300,000,

French about 200,000. Over 25 million suffered battle wounds. The military death fi gures

would have been higher except that one of every two of those wounded was saved by new

sulfa and penicillin drugs and blood plasma transfusions. None of these statistics could

be more than approximate; and no one could estimate the complete toll of human lives

lost from Allied and Axis bombings, Nazi mass slayings of Jews in the Holocaust and of

other people in all the German-occupied nations, Nazi and Soviet deportation policies,

and postwar famines and epidemics. Some estimates place the total at 60 million men,

women, and children, but at such fi gures the human mind retreats and human sensitivities

are dulled.

The atomic bomb that was dropped on Hiroshima was the most destructive weapon in the long history of warfare. This photograph shows a view of the city after the single American bomb had reduced the buildings to rubble and killed 100,000 people. The bomb helped to end the Second World War in Japan, but it also altered Europe’s infl uence in global affairs and cre- ated an enduring atomic threat to the future of human civilization. (AP Photo)

102. The Western-Soviet Victory

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Chapter 21 The Second World War876

103. THE FOUNDATIONS OF THE PEACE

Whereas the First World War had been concluded by a peace conference a few months

after the close of hostilities, the Second World War ended in no such clear-cut settlement.

Nothing like the Treaty of Versailles of 1919 followed the defeat of Germany in 1945.

The peace terms emerged episodically, at fi rst during a series of conferences among the

Allied nations during the war, and then in a series of de facto arrangements in the years

after 1945.

The foundations for a peaceable postwar world were being laid, it was thought, at

various meetings where the strategy of the war itself was gradually planned. As early as

August 1941, before the United States had entered the war, Roosevelt and Churchill met at

sea off the coast of Newfoundland and drew up the Atlantic Charter. Later, there were

meetings in 1943 at Casablanca, at Cairo, and at Tehran (which was close enough to the

CHRONOLOGY OF NOTABLE EVENTS, 1935–1945

1935 Mussolini launches an Italian invasion and conquest of Ethiopia

March 1936 German troops enter Rhineland; France and Britain do not intervene

July 1936 Fascist groups under General Franco in Spain rise against the Spanish

Republic; Franco takes power after three-year Civil War

March 1938 Hitler annexes Austria to Nazi Germany

September 1938 French and British leaders meet with Hitler in Munich and accept German

takeover of Sudetenland in Czechoslovakia

August 1939 Nazi-Soviet Nonaggression Pact includes plan for division of Poland

September 1939 Nazi invasion of Poland begins the Second World War

May–June 1940 Nazis conquer the Netherlands, Belgium, and France

July1940 French collaborators set up a pro-fascist regime in Vichy

September 1940 German air attacks on Britain are repelled in Battle of Britain

June 1941 Germany launches massive invasion of the Soviet Union

December 1941 Japanese attack on U.S. Pacifi c fl eet at Pearl Harbor brings the United

States into war with Japan and then Germany

January 1942 Nazi leaders launch plans to build death camps for genocidal killing

of European Jews and others, leading to over 6 million deaths in the

Holocaust

February 1943 Soviet forces defeat the Germans in decisive battle at Stalingrad

June 1944 Allied Armies open a “western front” in France after D-Day landings at

Normandy

February 1945 Churchill, Roosevelt, and Stalin agree on postwar arrangements at meeting

in Yalta

May 1945 Germany surrenders after Hitler commits suicide in Berlin

September 1945 Japan surrenders after the United States drops two atomic bombs and the

Soviet Union declares war on Japan

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877

Soviet Union for Stalin to participate); and in the fi nal phase of the war, in February 1945,

at Yalta (a Crimean resort city in the Soviet Union), and in July 1945 at Potsdam in the

environs of shattered Berlin.

The Atlantic Charter, issued jointly by Roosevelt and Churchill at their fi rst meeting,

resembled in spirit the earlier Fourteen Points of Woodrow Wilson. It pledged that sover-

eign rights and self-government would be restored to all who had been forcibly deprived

of them, that all nations would have equal access to world trade and world resources,

that all peoples would work together to achieve improved living standards and economic

security. The postwar peace, it promised, would assure people of all lands freedom from

fear and want; and it would end force and aggression in international affairs. Here, and in

the Four Freedoms enunciated by President Roosevelt, the ideological basis of the peace

was proclaimed. At the 1943 conferences, and through other consultations, the Allies

endeavored to concert their military plans. At Casablanca in January 1943,

they resolved to accept nothing less than the “unconditional surrender”

of the Axis powers. This vague formula, adopted somewhat cavalierly at

American initiative, and without much thought to possible political impli-

cations, was intended mainly to prevent a recurrence of anything like the

ambiguity surrounding the armistice of 1918, when nationalist Germans complained that

Germany had not been defeated on the battlefi eld but had been “stabbed in the back” by

a dissolving home front.

At Tehran in December 1943, Roosevelt and Churchill met with Stalin for the fi rst

of two wartime meetings. They discussed the postwar occupation and demilitarization of

Germany, laid plans for a postwar international organization, and debated strategy for win-

ning the war. Throughout the war Roosevelt, unwilling to disturb the unity of the Western-

Soviet coalition in the global struggle in which America was engaged, followed a policy

of postponing controversial territorial and political decisions until victory was assured.

Churchill was more apprehensive. Steeped in traditional balance-of-power politics, he

sensed that without prior diplomatic bargaining and political arrangements, the victory

over the Nazis would leave Russia dominant over central and eastern Europe. At Tehran

he proposed operations in the Mediterranean and an invasion through the Balkans, both for

political reasons and out of concern for the casualties that a cross-Channel invasion would

involve. But Roosevelt persuaded him otherwise. It was agreed that a landing in France

would take place in the spring of 1944; thus the major second front that Stalin had been

promised would fi nally be opened. Stalin pledged that he would launch a simultaneous

offensive on the eastern front.

The strategy that would win the war in the next 18 months was decided upon at

Tehran, but that strategy, without prior political agreements, all but guaranteed the Soviet

domination of postwar eastern Europe. Later, in October 1944, as the Russian armies

advanced westward, Churchill visited Stalin and sketched out a demarcation of spheres of

infl uence for the Western powers and the Soviets in the Balkan states (a Soviet preponder-

ance in Romania and Bulgaria, a Western preponderance in Greece, and an even division

of infl uence in Hungary and Yugoslavia). Soviet control over the Baltic states had virtually

been conceded by the British earlier. Roosevelt, however, would not agree to any such

arrangement, which he considered old-fashioned and a dangerous revival of the worst

features of pre-1914 diplomacy.

The two conferences that arrived at the most important political deci-

sions were the meetings at Yalta and at Potsdam in 1945. The Yalta meet-

ing in February 1945 took place when the Allies were close to fi nal

“Unconditional

surrender”

The agreements at

Yalta

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Chapter 21 The Second World War878

victory—closer than anyone at the time could realize. The three Allied statesmen met at

the old tsarist Crimean summer resort on the Black Sea, toasted their common triumphs,

and, as at Tehran, took the measure of each other. Roosevelt thought of himself as a media-

tor between Churchill and Stalin where European issues were involved. He took pains to

avoid giving Stalin the impression that he and Churchill were in any sense united against

him; in point of fact, Roosevelt was suspicious of Churchill’s devotion to empire and the

British colonial system, which he considered anachronistic for the postwar world. Despite

differences, the Big Three reached agreements, at least formally, on Poland and eastern

Europe, the future of Germany, the war in Asia, and the projected postwar international

organization—the United Nations.

The discussion of Poland and eastern Europe raised the most seri-

ous diffi culties. Stalin’s armies, having driven the Nazi forces to within

40 miles of Berlin, were in control of Poland and of almost all eastern and

central Europe. The Russians remembered these areas as anti-Soviet, and

Poland particularly as the perpetrator of aggression against Soviet territory

in 1920. Stalin had already taken steps to establish a “friendly” government in Poland,

which meant a government subservient to the Soviets. Neither Roosevelt nor Churchill had

fought the war against the Nazis to leave the Soviet Union the undisputed master of central

and eastern Europe and in a position to impose a totalitarian political system on all this

vast area. At Yalta, Roosevelt and Churchill extracted from Stalin a number of promises

for the areas he controlled. In accordance with the Atlantic Charter, the liberated states

were to be permitted provisional governments “broadly representative of all democratic

elements in the population,” that is, not consisting merely, as in the case of the provisional

government of Poland already established, of authorities subservient to the Soviets. They

pressed Stalin to pledge also the “earliest possible establishment through free elections of

governments responsive to the will of the people.” The pledge was a verbal concession that

cost the Soviet leader little; he rejected the suggestion of international supervision over

the elections. The Declaration on Liberated Europe, promising sovereign rights of demo-

cratic self-determination, provided a false sense of agreement; there would actually be no

free postwar elections in Soviet-controlled eastern Europe.

A number of territorial changes were also accepted, pending fi nal settlement at a post-

war peace conference. The Russian-Polish boundary would be set roughly at the so-called

Curzon line, the Polish frontier contemplated by the Allies in 1919 before the Poles con-

quered territory to their east. The Poles would be compensated, in the north and west, at the

expense of Germany (see map, p. 909). On this and on other matters relating to Germany

there was a large area of accord; the three were united in their hatred of German Nazism

and militarism. Germany was to be disarmed and divided into four occupation zones

under the administration of the Big Three powers and France—the latter at the insistence

of Churchill. There was vague talk, at Yalta and earlier, of dismembering Germany, of

undoing the work of Bismarck; but the diffi culties of such an undertaking were understood

and the proposal was eventually discarded. The Americans and British rejected as exces-

sive the Soviet proposals for reparations, a sum of $20 billion to be paid in kind, half to

the Soviets. It was agreed, however, that reparations would go to those countries that had

borne the main burdens of the war and suffered the heaviest losses. The Soviet Union was

to receive half of whatever total sum was set.

To the satisfaction of everyone, the participants agreed on plans for a postwar interna-

tional organization, to be called the United Nations. Roosevelt believed it essential to win

the Soviets over to the idea of an international organization. He was convinced that the

Poland and eastern

Europe

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879

Great Powers, cooperating within the framework of the United Nations and

acting as international police, could preserve the future peace and security

of the world. No less than Stalin or Churchill, he emphasized the impor-

tance of the Great Powers in the new organization, although he accepted a dignifi ed role

for the smaller nations as well. All agreed that each of the Great Powers, the permanent

members of the new organization’s Security Council, would have a veto power on impor-

tant decisions. The Soviets pressed for 16 votes in the General Assembly of the new orga-

nization, arguing that their constitution gave sovereign rights to each of their then 16

constituent republics and also that the British dominions would each have a seat. In the

interests of harmony, at Churchill’s behest, they were given three.

Critical agreements were reached on new plans for eastern Asia. Here political and

military decisions were inextricably linked. The Soviets had remained neutral in the

Pacifi c war despite their historic interests in that part of Asia. Given the magnitude of the

Soviet war effort on the European front, no one had pressed them to enter the Pacifi c war

earlier. It was agreed to wait at least until the Germans were on the verge of defeat. At

Yalta, Stalin agreed to enter the war against Japan, but Soviet “public opinion,” he averred,

would demand compensation. The U.S.S.R. would enter the war against Japan “two to

three months” after Germany had surrendered. In return, the Soviets would receive territo-

ries and rights that tsarist Russia had lost to Japan 40 years before in the Russo-Japanese

war of 1904–1905 (see map, p. 683), with the addition of the Kurile Islands, which had

never been Russian before.

Roosevelt made controversial concessions at Yalta because he believed he needed

Soviet support in the last phase of the war against Japan and because he wished to preserve

The United Nations

The fi nal meeting of Roosevelt, Churchill, and Stalin took place in the Crimean resort city of Yalta in February 1945. Roosevelt’s position here between the other two leaders suggests his mediating position at the conference. The agreements reached at Yalta shaped the postwar organization of eastern Europe, laid the foundation for the United Nations, and eventually brought the Soviet Union into the war against Japan, but some critics in the Western democra- cies later complained that the Yalta accords made too many concessions to Stalin and opened the way for Soviet domination of central Europe. (Library of Congress [LC-USZ62-7449])

103. The Foundations of the Peace

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Chapter 21 The Second World War880

the Western-Soviet coalition until fi nal victory was guaranteed. He believed also that war-

time cooperation would produce postwar harmony. Churchill, less sanguine about the

future and about “diplomacy by friendship,” would have preferred a franker defi nition of

spheres of infl uence. Such ideas were ruled out as the thinking of a bygone era. Yet the

spirit of the Atlantic Charter, so closely identifi ed with the American president, the pledge

of sovereign self-determination for all peoples, was already being contravened.

At Potsdam, in July 1945, after the German collapse, the Big Three met again. A new

American president, Harry S. Truman, represented the United States; Presi-

dent Roosevelt had died in April, on the eve of fi nal victory. Churchill, in

the midst of the conference, was replaced by a new British prime minister,

Clement Attlee, after the Labour Party’s victory at the polls. Stalin still

The Potsdam

Conference

THE SURVIVOR by George Grosz (German, then American, 1893–1959)

Grosz was a refugee from Nazi Germany. This picture, which he painted in 1945, vividly portrays the horrors of modern warfare, the brutal collapse of civilization, and the terri- fi ed emotions of an isolated, fi lthy survivor. Note the symbolism of a broken swastika in the arrangement of the man’s body and the debris. (akg-images/Newscom)

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881

represented the Soviet Union. By now, disagreements between the Western Allies and

the Soviets had deepened, not only over Soviet control in Poland, eastern Europe, and the

Balkans, but over German reparations and other matters. Yet Truman and Attlee were still

prepared to make concessions in the hope of establishing harmonious relations. Agree-

ments were announced on the postwar treatment of Germany, which included German

disarmament, demilitarization, “denazifi cation,” and the punishment of war criminals—

who were soon prosecuted for war crimes in trials at Nuremberg. Each power could take

reparations in kind from its occupation zone and the Russians would get substantial addi-

tional deliveries from the Western zones so that the original $10 billion Soviet demand

was virtually met.

Pending the fi nal peace treaty, German territory east of the Oder-Neisse

rivers had been committed to Polish administration at the Yalta meeting,

but the Polish-German boundary was now set at the western Neisse, even

further west than originally envisaged. Poland thus extended its territorial boundaries

about a hundred miles westward as compensation for Russian westward expansion at Pol-

ish expense. German East Prussia was divided between the Soviet Union in the north and

Poland in the south. Königsberg, founded by the Teutonic Knights and for centuries the

coronation city of Prussian kings, became the Russian city of Kaliningrad. The ancient

German cities of Stettin and Breslau became the Polish cities of Szczecin and Wroclaw.

Danzig became Gdansk. The de facto administration of these areas hardened into perma-

nent rule. The transfer of the German population in these eastern areas was supposed to be

effected in an orderly and humane fashion, but millions of Germans were driven from their

homes or fl ed westward within a few months. For them (and for the Sudeten Germans who

were expelled from Czechoslovakia) this forced migration was a fi nal, unsettling conse-

quence of the vast war that Hitler had unleashed in central Europe.

The Potsdam participants agreed that peace treaties would be signed as soon as pos-

sible with the former German satellite states; the task of preparing them was entrusted to

a council of foreign ministers representing the United States, Britain, France, the Soviet

Union, and China. In the months that followed, the widening chasm between the Soviets

and their recent Western Allies manifested itself in stormy meetings in London, Paris, and

New York, as well as in a peace conference held in Paris in 1946, at which were repre-

sented the 21 states that had contributed substantial military forces to the defeat of the Axis

powers. In February 1947 treaties were signed with Italy, Romania, Hungary, Bulgaria,

and Finland, all of which paid reparations and agreed to certain territorial adjustments. In

1951 a peace treaty was signed with Japan, but not by the Soviets, who signed their own

treaty in 1956. The years went by, but no fi nal treaty was signed with Germany, which

for many years to come remained divided into western and eastern zones. The wartime

Western-Soviet coalition had fallen apart, shattering the dreams or aspirations for a lasting

peace among those who had fought the Second World War to a decisive triumph over one

kind of aggression and totalitarianism, but who now found themselves confronted with a

new age of crisis.

Germany divided

For suggested further readings and useful Web sites, interactive exercises, glossary, chronologies,

and more, go to the Online Learning Center at www.mhhe.com/palmerhistory11e.

103. The Foundations of the Peace

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883

C h a p t e r 22 THE COLD WAR AND

RECONSTRUCTION

AFTER THE SECOND

WORLD WAR

Every age   has its share of social confl icts, eco- nomic problems, political upheavals, wars, and

cultural changes, but the fi rst half of the twentieth

century must surely be ranked as one of the most

deadly and disorienting periods that people have ever

known. During these decades, over the course of a

single lifetime, the world passed through the Great

War of 1914–1918, a global infl uenza pandemic

(which killed at least 50 million people), the col-

lapse of longstanding dynasties in Europe and the

Middle East, the Russian Revolution, the worldwide

Great Depression, the rise of aggressive fascist and

Nazi dictatorships, the Second World War (stretch-

ing from Europe and North Africa to all of east and

southeast Asia), the Holocaust in Nazi-occupied

Europe, the fi rst use of atomic bombs, the rise of

Communist China, and the breakup of the Ottoman and European empires into new nations in

the eastern Mediterranean and South Asia.

These events brought massive disruptions to individual lives, caused more millions of

deaths than can ever be accurately counted, and produced far-reaching changes in global

political and economic systems—including the rapid, international ascendancy of the

United States and a steady decline in Europe’s previous control over people or economies

in much of the non-European world. In short, the upheavals of the early twentieth century

profoundly transformed the course of modern world history. Yet people everywhere, like

their ancestors after earlier upheavals, moved on from these cataclysms to rebuild their

lives, their societies, their political institutions, and their economic activities. History did

not end, of course, and the age-old resilience of human beings and their cultures appeared

again in the decades that followed the Second World War.

104. The Cold War:

The Opening Decade,

1945–1955

105. Western Europe: Economic

Reconstruction

106. Western Europe: Political

Reconstruction

107. Europe and the Global

Economy

108. Communist Societies in

the U.S.S.R. and Eastern

Europe

Chapter emblem: Hungarian protestors burning a picture of Joseph Stalin in 1956. (Hulton-Deutsch

Collection/Corbis)

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Chapter 22 The Cold War and Reconstruction after the Second World War884

The end of that titanic war marks a transition for historians as well as for the people

who lived through it, because the decades after 1945 or 1950 are the beginning of what

historians often call “contemporary history.” Although the postwar era is increasingly dis-

tant from our own time, the historical consequences of many events and changes since the

Second World War are still evolving and are still part of our contemporary world. Contem-

porary history arouses strong feelings, leads to many of the world’s current confl icts, and

directly shapes the experiences and attitudes of most people who are now alive. For histo-

rians, the complexities of contemporary history can pose even more challenges than those

of earlier eras, because many sources are still unavailable, or because present-day confl icts

distort historical perspectives, or because the lasting infl uence of recent events cannot yet

be known. These distinctive, open-ended aspects of contemporary history will begin to

emerge in this chapter and those that follow as we examine the unsettled events and trends

of the contemporary world, which continues to evolve more rapidly and in more ways than

any historical narrative can describe with the long-range perspectives of historical analysis.

104. THE COLD WAR: THE OPENING DECADE, 1945–1955

Certain issues that had confronted humankind for over a century became even more com-

plex and more urgent in the second half of the twentieth century. Three can be singled out:

science, the organization of industrial society, and national sovereignty.

The atomic bomb dramatized the new problem of science. People in all

parts of the world shuddered at the instantaneous destruction of Hiroshima.

The postwar contest to produce more sophisticated nuclear weapons spurred

the realization that a third world war would be unthinkable. Human beings now

possessed the means to annihilate not only civilization but even human existence on the planet,

a thought especially shocking to a world that set one of its highest values on scientifi c progress.

Science, and its partner, invention, had for a long time transformed both industry and

war. It had conquered many of the dreaded plagues and diseases of the world. Everyone

had long known that science could be applied either constructively or destructively, but the

extreme violence of the two world wars suggested that the destructive uses were becoming

more common. It was the magnitude of the new destructive possibilities that now made

thoughtful people worry. Scientists themselves, after the Holocaust and the fi rst atomic

explosion, affi rmed the need for a moral regeneration. They insisted that science itself was

neutral, free from blame for the horrors of Auschwitz and Hiroshima and Nagasaki, that

the trouble lay not with science but with the uses to which scientifi c knowledge was put.

The problem of organizing industrial society was also unresolved after

1945. There were in theory two opposite social poles. At one, best repre-

sented by the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics (until its demise in 1991),

all capital was owned by the state and supplied to managers and workers

as needed, and all production and interchange were planned in advance by

public authorities. In the Soviet form of socialism (as well as in the People’s Republic

of China after 1949), which the outside world called communism because it had come

about through revolution and been maintained through dictatorship, the government’s role

was all-encompassing. At the other pole, best exemplifi ed by the United States, economic

exchange took place through the mechanism of the market, and capital was owned by

private persons who chose the channels of investment and determined the availability of

jobs. Neither the socialist nor the capitalist system was pure in practice, and even in capi-

talist countries mixed economies became the rule, with varying degrees of government

The atomic bomb

Organizing

industrial society

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885104. The Cold War: The Opening Decade, 1945–1955

intervention. Most western European countries developed such mixed economies after

1945 and also expanded their social welfare systems, in part to reduce the kinds of social

instability that had contributed to the political extremism and dictatorships of the 1930s.

Many Europeans looked for a “middle way” between the Soviet and American systems,

because they saw specifi c problems on both sides. The chief drawbacks in the Soviet sys-

tem appeared in the lack of political and economic freedom and in its stifl ing of individual

initiative; in the American system, the drawbacks appeared in the periodic economic crises

and in the threats to the economic security of individual workers. In the years after the

Second World War, the Europeans and Americans expended much more effort trying to

correct the lack of economic security than the Soviets did to correct the lack of freedom.

Another postwar question hinged on the unity of the modern world. It was indisput-

ably one world in the sense that there existed a close-knit, interdependent economy, that

political events and environmental changes affected the whole globe, and that world cul-

tures and religions interacted as never before. But it was far from homogeneous. All

admired the steam turbine and stood in awe of nuclear fi ssion, but beyond the material

level schemes of values diverged. No people wished to be subordinated to another, or to an

international body, or to lose its way of life in a uniform global civilization.

After the Second World War, as after the First, an international organization was set up to

prevent war in the future. A conference of all anti-Axis powers, held at San Francisco in 1945,

founded the United Nations (UN) and drew up its charter. The new organization was designed

to maintain international peace and security and to encourage cooperative

solutions to international problems. Although it was widely acknowledged that

peace would depend primarily on the Great Powers, all states, regardless of

size, would be represented. Two agencies were central. The General Assembly

was a deliberative body in which all member states, however small, had an equal vote. The

Security Council, whose primary responsibility was to preserve peace, consisted of the fi ve

Great Powers, who were to be permanent members, and ten rotating members chosen for two-

year terms. Apart from the two superpowers, the United States and the U.S.S.R., it was not

easy to defi ne the Great Powers in 1945, but the permanent seats were assigned to the United

States, the Soviet Union, Great Britain, France, and China. 1 Despite the decline of Europe’s

economic and political infl uence in other regions of the world, the traditional western Euro-

pean powers retained their prominent, prewar positions in the new international organization.

Each permanent member had a veto power. Thus the Security Council could act on

important matters only if the Great Powers were unanimous. Although widely criticized,

the veto was accepted as necessary. In major crises the agreement of the Great Powers

would be needed to maintain world peace. The U.S.S.R. demanded the veto most frankly,

but the United States would not have joined without this safeguard. In the following years,

however, even small countries refused to abide by judgments of the UN. No nation, large

or small, was yet willing to forgo its independence or subordinate itself to an international

body with the authority to put down violence, but there was much hope, and even confi -

dence, that the authority and prestige of the UN would grow with time.

The UN had 51 original members. To symbolize the strong American

commitment (and the contrast with America’s earlier refusal to join the League

of Nations), its headquarters was located in New York. The charter provided

for the admission of new members, including the former Axis countries and

The United Nations

Membership expands

1 Nationalist China (the Republic of China, or Taiwan) occupied the seat until 1971, when the People’s Republic of

China (Communist China) replaced it. By the early twenty-fi rst century there were growing demands to expand the

number of permanent seats on the Security Council by adding other large nations from Asia, Africa, and Latin America.

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Chapter 22 The Cold War and Reconstruction after the Second World War886

their satellites, and also wartime neutrals, so that it could be truly international. From 1947 to

1955 a few additional states were admitted; in 1955, 16 more; and in the next several decades,

after decolonization and other changes, the organization expanded so that by the second decade

of the twenty-fi rst century it had over 190 members. In 1948, in good part because of the per-

suasive powers of the American delegate Eleanor Roosevelt, it adopted a sweeping Universal

Declaration of Human Rights, but left unanswered the means of implementing it.

The UN and its Security Council failed to fulfi ll the role projected for it in the early post-

war era because of the tensions between the American-led Western nations and the Soviets.

Although the UN remained one of the few arenas where the Americans and Soviets could

meet and debate, it was powerless to prevent the two superpowers from drifting further and

further apart. On the other hand it helped from the beginning to mediate regional disputes

and to play a role in peacekeeping missions. Most Europeans supported the UN as part of a

new international order that might reduce the kinds of national wars that had nearly destroyed

their twentieth-century societies. But the UN also evolved away from the preoccupations

of the older European powers as it expanded to include new nations in regions that later

twentieth-century diplomats called the “Third World.” Many of these newer members of the

UN were former colonies of the European empires, and they became known as the Third World

because they chose not to align themselves with either the Western or the Soviet camp in inter-

national affairs. Such nations increasingly used the General Assembly of the UN as a forum in

which to express their grievances against global economic and political systems, which they

criticized for protecting the interests of the wealthier European and American nations.

The UN was established to resolve international confl icts and to foster peaceful exchanges between nations, but it also adopted a Universal Declaration of Human Rights. This picture of an early UN meeting shows a representative of the Philippines, Pedro Lopez, calling for the establishment and protection of a free press in all nations of the world. (Hulton-Deutsch Collection/Corbis)

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887104. The Cold War: The Opening Decade, 1945–1955

The Cold War: Origins and Nature

The Second World War left only the United States and the Soviet Union still standing in

any strength. The United States emerged physically unscathed from the war, its economy

stronger than ever before. Although it demobilized much of its wartime military force, it

alone possessed the atomic bomb. The Soviet Union had been devastated by the war, in

which over 20 million of its population had perished, but it was still a formidable military

power, with 4 million soldiers under arms and in control of eastern European populations

and territories well beyond its pre-1939 boundaries. It became common to speak of the two

countries as superpowers—continental land giants, possessing enormous resources, over-

shadowing all other states, including the long-dominant nations of western Europe.

In the kind of two-superpower system that emerged after the Second World War, each

power can readily identify its only dangerous enemy. A diplomatic equilibrium is more diffi -

cult to sustain in such situations because each views the other power’s every action as possible

aggression or provocation; and each, ignorant of the other’s strength, exaggerates the power

and danger of its enemy. After 1945 the United States and the U.S.S.R. fell into this unhappy

relationship, which began to develop confl icts as soon as the two superpowers attempted to

devise postwar settlements in Europe. The emerging diplomatic confl icts were compounded

by a deep-seated ideological tension between capitalist democracy and Marxist-Leninist com-

munism that dated back to the Bolshevik Revolution of 1917. The widening diplomatic, geo-

political, and ideological clash of interests came to be known as the Cold War,

so called because the antagonisms and rivalries, intense though they were,

always fell short of open or direct military hostilities between the two powers.

It was not possible for anyone to know what Stalin, who dictated the Soviet decisions,

or his lieutenants in the Kremlin, really believed or intended at the end of the Second World

War. Probably they considered a clash between the U.S.S.R. and the Western capitalist pow-

ers as inevitable at some point in the future. Probably they were disturbed by the ambi-

tious goals of American capitalism, which sought markets in eastern Europe and elsewhere,

and by the American monopoly of the atomic bomb. They themselves undoubtedly saw an

opportunity to consolidate their hold over European territories gained during the war (or

regained, given that the new Soviet state had lost control of some of these territories at the

end of the First World War), and to create an outer buffer zone for Soviet national security.

Undoubtedly they also saw in the aftermath of the Second World War, as of the First, an

opportunity to promote the international Communist cause in the shattered nations of central

Europe and among the still-colonized peoples within the large European empires.

Whether the Soviets were acting to protect their national security, fulfi ll old Russian ter-

ritorial ambitions in eastern Europe, or promote communism on a world scale, the political

leaders of the United States and a great majority of the American people became convinced

that the Soviets were bent on consolidating their grip on central and eastern Europe and then

embarking on a worldwide Communist offensive. The American government therefore devel-

oped a global strategy of “containment,” by which the United States and its allies would seek

to “contain” this new Soviet offensive. Although the American government would take direct

military steps mainly in reaction to Soviet expansion or threats of expansion, many people in

the United States came to ascribe almost all of the complex social and political unrest on the

globe to initiatives launched by the Kremlin; and in contrast to its rapid mili-

tary withdrawal from Europe in 1918–1919, the United States maintained a

strong military and political presence in European affairs long after 1945.

In Europe, at the close of hostilities, Soviet armies occupied eastern Europe and

Germany as far west as the Elbe River. American, British, and French armies held the

The Cold War

Containment

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Chapter 22 The Cold War and Reconstruction after the Second World War888

remainder of Germany, most of Austria, and all of Italy. During the war, the armed forces

liberating an area exercised political authority. In that way, the sweep of the Red Army

gave the Soviets political control over much of central and eastern Europe; 100 million

people passed under Soviet domination. On the other hand, the United States excluded the

Soviets from any active role in its occupation of Italy (and, in Asia, of Japan). For the

Soviet Union, occupation meant full control over a nation’s political, economic, and social

institutions and the right to shape the occupied country in its own image. The Western pow-

ers, on the other hand, had hoped that postwar eastern Europe would develop pluralist and

democratic societies, which would have been open to Western trade and infl uence. During

the war the Americans and British had conceded Soviet predominance in eastern Europe,

which the Soviets had liberated from the Nazis, but they soon resented the transformation

of Poland and other East European countries into Soviet-dominated Communist states.

For Stalin, however, this kind of transformation was the only way to guar-

antee “friendly regimes” on his borders. Beginning as early as the Potsdam

conference in July 1945, Truman denounced the Soviets for violating their

pledge to allow free elections in the eastern European states and for failing to

cooperate in the joint occupation of Germany. American diplomats began to

believe that Soviet control over eastern Europe was similar to the Nazi and Fascist aggression

of the 1930s, to which Truman himself frequently compared it. Stalin may have been acting

more as a Russian nationalist bent on protecting Russian national security than as a champion

of worldwide Communist revolution, but his stubbornness and paranoia about capitalist encir-

clement, and his lack of concern for world public opinion, made it diffi cult for the Americans

and western Europeans to deal with him in the Cold War or to distinguish between legitimate

Soviet security needs and an expansionist, Communist missionary zeal.

A series of Soviet actions fed the belief that Stalin’s ambitions transcended eastern

Europe. In Asia, as pledged at Yalta, the Soviets had declared war on Japan in August

1945 and moved into Manchuria, where they were well positioned to help the Chinese

Concerns about

Soviet expansion

The Allied military victory over Nazi Germany was followed by new distrust and confl ict in Europe. The Soviet Union took control over Communist satellite states, creating what Winston Churchill called an “iron curtain” against free institutions and ideas. This picture shows Churchill giving a famous speech in March 1946 in Fulton, Missouri, where he fi rst described the new iron cur- tain that had descended across eastern Europe. (AP Photo)

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889104. The Cold War: The Opening Decade, 1945–1955

Communists. In Korea, once the Japanese were defeated, the Soviets by agreement occu-

pied the northern part of the country but also took steps to consolidate their occupation

zone into a Communist government. Iran was another trouble spot. The Americans,

British, and Russians had jointly occupied Iran during the war to forestall a Nazi takeover,

but the Soviets refused to evacuate their troops at the stipulated time and pressed for oil

concessions (such as the British and Americans already enjoyed).

The Soviets also sought a trusteeship over the former Italian colonies in North Africa,

within easy reach of the Suez Canal; and they massed troops on the Turkish border, press-

ing for joint control over the Black Sea straits and for naval access to the Mediterranean

through the Dardanelles—an old tsarist goal. The British, acting again in their earlier role

as the “Western” guardians of the Mediterranean and Middle East, bolstered the Turkish

defenses despite their own fi nancial weakness. In Greece, in a civil war that raged from

1946 to 1949, Communist guerrillas battled the British-supported royalist, or nationalist,

army. Stalin, perhaps recognizing his wartime agreement with Churchill that Greece would

remain in a sphere of Western infl uence, lent little aid to the Communists, but Tito’s new

Communist regime in Yugoslavia helped the Communist guerrillas. The Communist pres-

sures on Turkey, Greece, and Iran aroused British and American concerns about Soviet

strategic designs on the eastern Mediterranean and on the oil reserves of the Middle East.

One casualty of the postwar tension was a plan for international super-

vision of nuclear weapons. The United States knew that it was only a mat-

ter of time before the Soviets (and other nations) could build the atomic

bomb, because the scientifi c basis for it was known. At the moment the

British alone shared the secret. The United States proposed in 1946 that atomic energy be

controlled by an international authority and that its use be limited to peaceful purposes.

Such an international body would have the right to send inspectors into any country to

check violations and enforce sanctions that would not be subject to veto in the Security

Council. The Soviets objected and would not give up their veto. The idea of foreigners

freely examining their society was repugnant to them. They questioned the good faith of

the United States, which would not destroy its atomic bombs or halt further testing and pro-

duction until the proposed international authority was established (many Americans also

opposed international controls on their own nuclear arms). The British, in turn, fearful of

an American relapse into isolationism, undertook to become a nuclear power on their own.

The plan for international control foundered on mutual suspicion and mistrust. The Soviets

proceeded with their own atomic research (and effi cient espionage), which yielded results

even sooner than expected. In 1949 the Soviets successfully tested an atomic bomb, and the

nuclear arms race, universally dreaded, now began. The British also moved forward with

the independent development of their own atomic bomb, which they fi rst tested in 1952.

The political confl icts had meanwhile deepened in 1946 and 1947. The American pol-

icy of containment, as formulated by the State Department, postulated that the Russians

would expand wherever a power vacuum existed. Advocates for the strategy of contain-

ment argued that the Western powers should show both patience and fi rmness, and in time

Soviet society itself might change. In the meantime, however, the United States and its

European allies needed to maintain their military strength and use economic and other

counterpressures to resist the Soviets. Containment, the cornerstone of American policy,

came to be interpreted in more rigorously military terms than some of its early proponents

had intended. Meanwhile Churchill, even before the Soviets had fully completed the trans-

formation of eastern Europe into Communist satellites, made an eloquent speech in March

1946 in which he described the “iron curtain” that had descended between eastern and

Mutual mistrust

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Chapter 22 The Cold War and Reconstruction after the Second World War890

western Europe—“from Stettin in the Baltic to Trieste in the Adriatic.” That spring the

United States turned down a pending Soviet request for a reconstruction loan, Congress

having decided that Lend-Lease should end with the war, and also cut off reparations

deliveries to the Soviets from the American occupation zone of Germany.

In 1947 fi nancially strained Great Britain, forced to cut back on its commitments in the

Mediterranean, informed Washington that it could no longer aid the anti-Communist forces

in Greece or support Turkey in its resistance to Soviet pressures. The United States quickly

moved to fi ll the vacuum. Truman not only agreed to provide the necessary assistance in the

Mediterranean but at the same time also formulated in March 1947 a broad national policy

to contain communism everywhere—“to assist free peoples who are resisting attempted

subjugation by armed minorities or by outside pressures.” The Truman Doctrine committed

the United States to unprecedented involvement in global military and economic affairs. The

Marshall Plan, which would provide billions of dollars for reconstruction of

the war-damaged European economies and infrastructure, was announced

by the American secretary of state, George Marshall, in 1947. Although

the plan was designed to hasten European economic recovery, it also served

the political purpose of checking Communist expansion in western Europe.

The American national security state began to take shape. A National Security Coun-

cil was created to advise the president on security matters, and a Central Intelligence

Agency (CIA) was created to coordinate the gathering of intelligence. The CIA soon

received authorization to conduct covert operations as well, so that American agents began

operating widely in both western and eastern Europe.

The Soviets in their turn denounced the American capitalist and imperialist “warmon-

gers.” With the United States arming Greece and Turkey; American air bases established in

the Middle East; American armed forces in occupation of Japan, Okinawa, and South Korea;

and the Americans possessing the atomic bomb, the Soviets felt threatened

and encircled. Soviet suspicions mounted after 1947, but they also drew on

memories that went back to the foreign intervention in the Russian Revolution

and civil war in 1917–1920, the Soviets’ exclusion from the Munich Pact, and

the delay in opening up a second front in the Second World War as well as the

cessation of Lend-Lease at the end of the war and the rejection of a requested postwar loan.

In 1947 the Soviets decided they needed to reassert closer control over all Communist

parties in every part of the world. They therefore reestablished in new form the old Commu-

nist International, or Comintern, which had been abandoned in 1943 as a gesture of wartime

cooperation, renaming it the Communist Information Bureau, or Cominform. The Soviets

also replaced coalition governments in central and eastern Europe, in which the Communists

had formerly shared power, with regimes dominated by Communist parties. In Czechoslo-

vakia, for example, where President Benes’s democratic coalition had been viewed as a pos-

sible bridge between eastern and western Europe, the Czech Communist Party, faced with

defeat in a forthcoming election, seized power in February 1948. By this time, the postwar

Soviet-American suspicions and confl icts had created a mutual perception of permanent dan-

gers, which each side sought to counter by its own assertive political or military actions. The

increasingly bitter Cold War therefore spread into the local disputes and political confronta-

tions that were constantly developing in Europe, Asia, and elsewhere around the globe.

Germany: The Berlin Blockade and the Airlift of 1948–1949

The key to the rebuilding of Europe, and the most critical area of Soviet-Western conten-

tion, was Germany, divided by Allied agreement into four zones and occupied by the United

The Truman

Doctrine

Soviet suspicions

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891104. The Cold War: The Opening Decade, 1945–1955

States, the Soviet Union, Britain, and France. The Allies had agreed to joint Allied policies

for a defeated Germany, even though each of the four powers was to occupy its separate zone.

Berlin also was divided into four separate Allied sectors, with joint administration for the city

as a whole. All had agreed that Germany should pay reparations, both in capital equipment

and current production, mainly to the Soviet Union, which had suffered most from German

military destruction, and that limits should be placed on German productive capacity.

At the war’s end the Americans, supported by the British, quickly came to favor the

economic reconstruction of Germany to accelerate European recovery and to reduce

The Soviet closure of the railways and roads into Berlin provoked one of the most dramatic events of the early Cold War: the Berlin Airlift. For almost a year (1948–1949) the Americans and their Western allies fl ew supplies into the isolated city on military aircraft such as the plane in this picture. Images of the airlift became part of the evolving Cold War struggle for international public opinion and an enduring symbol of the new links between West Berlin and the postwar Western Allies. (Bettmann/Corbis)

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Chapter 22 The Cold War and Reconstruction after the Second World War892

DEPORTATION AND RESETTLEMENT, 1939–1950 The age-old distribution of nationalities in central and eastern Europe was radically trans- formed between 1939 and 1950. About 6 million Jews died in the Holocaust, with over 300,000 survivors emigrating to Israel by 1950, and millions of Germans, Poles, and others were forc- ibly uprooted.

Left panel: The fi rst stage began with the Nazi–Soviet Pact of 1939, after which the Germans occupied western Poland, while the Russians annexed eastern Poland and the three Baltic republics. Western Poland received Poles expelled from Germany, while in eastern Poland about 2 million Poles were deported to Siberia, being replaced by about the same num- ber of Russians and Ukranians. Many Estonians, Latvians, and Lithuanians were moved to other parts of the Soviet Union. Thousands of Germans were “returned” to Germany from the Baltic republics and from places such as Romania, where they had long formed German enclaves. The “Volga Germans,” Tatars, and others in south Russia were sent to Siberia.

0 200 400 miles

1939–1944 (Post–World War I Boundaries)

180,000 Balts

2,000,0 00 Poles

2,000,000 Russians and Uk rainians

50 0,0

00 Ge

rm ans

730,000 Germans

Poles

130 ,00

0 G e

rm an

s

1,200,000

AUSTRIA HUNGARY

U . S . S . R .

BULGARIA

YUGOSLAVIA

ROMANIA

P O L A N D

ESTONIA

LATVIA

LITHUANIA

CZECHOSLOVAKIA

G E

R M

A N

Y

UKRAINE

TO SIBERIA

European dependence on American fi nancial aid. The Ruhr, in the western zone, was still

Europe’s industrial heartland. The Soviets, on the other hand, were determined to use

German resources to repair the devastation in their own country. They removed large

amounts of food and stripped entire plants of machinery in their zone. The Western Allies

refused to permit the dismantling of factories in their zones and insisted that the Soviets

take their share of current production only from their own zone. By May

1946 joint administration of Germany had all but broken down. Early in

1947 the United States and Britain united their two zones; the French, over-

coming their initial reluctance to see a revived Germany, soon merged their

Two Germanys

emerge

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893104. The Cold War: The Opening Decade, 1945–1955

0 200 400 miles

1945–1950 (Post–World War II Boundaries)

320,000 Jews to Israel (1945–1950 only) 120,000 from Poland 91,000 from Romania 37,000 from Bulgaria 33,000 from Turkey 22,000 from Czechoslovakia 17,000 from Hungary

300,000 Balts

2,300,000 Russians and Ukrainians

1,800,00 0 Ukr

ainia ns,

Krim Tar

tar s,

Kalm uck

s, e tc.

4,500,000 Poles 3,500

,000 Germans

500,000 Germans

11 ,60

0,0 00 G

erman s

300 ,0

00 Ba

lt s

AUSTRIA HUNGARY

RUSSIAN S.F.S.R.

BULGARIA

YUGOSLAVIA

ROMANIA

P O L A N D

ESTONIAN S.S.R.

LATVIAN S.S.R.

LITHUANIAN S.S.R.

CZECHOSLOVAKIA

UKRAINIAN S.S.R.

TO SIBERIAMOLDAVIAN S.S.R.

EAST

GERMANY

WEST GERMANY

BYELORUSSIAN S.S.R.

Right panel: A second stage of displacements came with the Soviet victory and collapse of Hitler’s Reich. The German–Polish frontier was now moved westward to the Oder River. Millions of Germans from east of the Oder, along with other millions from the Sudeten regions of Czechoslovakia, from Hungary, and from Romania, were thrown back into what remained of Germany, most fl eeing to the western zones. Poles streamed into what had been Germany east of the Oder; others came into Poland from Ukraine. Russians moved into what had been eastern Poland and the Baltic states. Ukranians and various non-Russian minorities were sent to Siberia. Some Balts escaped to western Europe; others were redistributed to various places in the Soviet Union.

Amid all of these movements of people, the most conspicuous, long-term changes, in addition to the virtual disappearance of East European Jews, were the expulsion of the Germans from eastern Europe and a westward movement of Poles and Russians. (Westermanns Atlas zur Weltgeschichte)

zone as well. The Western powers encouraged the reconstruction of governments in the

individual German states and the convening of a constituent assembly to set up a federal

republic. The Soviets, in their zone, took steps to establish a Communist-dominated gov-

ernment. Two Germanys were emerging.

In June 1948 the Western powers, recognizing the need for drastic currency reform

to cope with infl ation and encourage West German economic revival, sud-

denly revoked the old worthless currency and at a 1-to-10 ratio issued a new

German mark, the Deutsche mark. The Soviets, who had not been consulted,

objected to this violation of the wartime agreement to treat Germany as a

Berlin blockade and

airlift

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Chapter 22 The Cold War and Reconstruction after the Second World War894

single economic unit. In retaliation they blockaded all road and rail access to Berlin, which

lay 100 miles deep within the Soviet zone. The blockade was a sharp challenge and test of

will. If the Western powers abandoned Berlin, they could also lose authority in other parts of

Europe and open the way for Soviet westward expansion, and perhaps expansion elsewhere.

Knowing that they could not resort to military measures against the much stronger Soviet

ground forces, the Allies responded with a massive airlift. For close to a year, American

and western European aircraft fl ew in thousands of tons of food and other supplies to the

occupation forces and to the 3 million inhabitants of West Berlin. The Soviets harassed the

planes but avoided direct confrontation and, fi nally, in May 1949 lifted the blockade.

Each side now proceeded with the formation of a German government. The Federal

Republic of Germany, its capital in the small Rhineland city of Bonn, came into existence

in September 1949; the German Democratic Republic, its capital in the eastern sector of

Berlin, one month later. There were now two Germanys, and the division of Europe had

hardened along a rigid new political boundary.

The Atlantic Alliance

In 1948 Britain, France, Belgium, the Netherlands, and Luxembourg formed a West

European Union for collective self-defense, but it had only limited military resources. In

1949 the United States took the lead in creating a larger military alliance and collective

security system. The United States, Canada, and ten European nations met in Washington

and agreed to military arrangements for the joint defense of western Europe. The Atlantic

Pact was a military alliance of unlimited duration and broad scope: “an armed attack

against one or more” was to be considered “an attack against all.” The United States for-

mally committed itself to the security of western Europe and agreed to supply funds and

equipment for European rearmament. It was the fi rst such military alliance of its kind in

American history and another example of the deepening American involvement in the

multiple spheres of European political and economic life.

The North Atlantic Treaty Organization (NATO) emerged with a net-

work of military arrangements and a chain of command headed by Gen-

eral Eisenhower. Because West Germany remained the most vulnerable

target for Soviet expansion, large numbers of American troops (eventu-

ally over 300,000) were stationed there as the nucleus of the NATO armed forces. But

with overwhelming Soviet superiority in ground forces, the NATO defense strategy was

based primarily on American air power rather than on ground troops alone. The treaty

solemnly affi rmed American determination not to abandon the Continent. In later years

the West Europeans became restive with American leadership, or, alternatively, feared an

American decoupling from Europe, but NATO remained western Europe’s shield

against Soviet aggression. The Truman Doctrine, the Marshall Plan, and NATO were

the three prongs of the American and western European response to a potential Soviet

challenge.

Meanwhile the West European countries, with the aid of the Marshall Plan, were mak-

ing an impressive economic recovery and cooperating with each other (the Marshall Plan

is discussed in the next section of this chapter). The Soviets could not be expected to view

with equanimity the revival and growing unity of western Europe. American fi nancial and

military assistance, NATO, the containment policy, all defensive in Western eyes, and

indeed provoked by Soviet expansionism, were hostile acts from the Soviet perspective.

The Soviet Union drew its six eastern European satellite or client states, variously styled

NATO

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895104. The Cold War: The Opening Decade, 1945–1955

people’s republics or people’s democracies, closer to it. It formalized economic ties by

creating in 1949 a Council for Mutual Economic Aid and a few years later coordinated the

existing network of military alliances in the Warsaw Pact of 1955. The Soviets also added

to their military and air power and continued their nuclear research.

By 1949 Stalin’s postwar expansion seemed contained and Truman could claim suc-

cess for his policies. The Soviets had dropped their demands on Turkey and departed from

Iran. Insurrectionary strikes launched by Communist parties in western Europe had failed,

as did a Communist bid for power in Italy in the elections of 1948, in which the Vatican

and the United States strongly supported the anti-Communist camp. Marshal Tito in 1948

successfully defi ed the Cominform, and Yugoslavia went its separate Communist way.

In Greece the American- and British-backed Greek royalists triumphed in 1949 against the

Communist guerrillas. The Soviet blockade of Berlin had failed to drive the Americans

and West Europeans from the city.

The rivalry over Europe thus led to a stalemate by about 1950. The

Soviet threat to western Europe diminished. The continent remained

divided into a western and eastern Europe, Germany into two Germanys, Berlin into West

and East Berlin. After the failure of the Soviet blockade of Berlin, there was no such overt

confl ict or military confrontation within Europe. Despite renewed threats to Berlin, each

side recognized the strength and security concerns of the other. But any thoughts that the

world might settle into peace, no matter how uneasy, were shattered in June 1950. The

Western-Soviet struggle shifted to Asia.

America, Europe, and New Confl icts in Asia

In Asia new confl icts also developed during the early postwar years. The Chinese Com-

munists triumphed over the Nationalists, and Mao Zedong proclaimed the People’s Repub-

lic of China in 1949. In Japan the United States used its military occupation from 1945 to

1952 to foster parliamentary institutions and revive the Japanese economy, which would

begin to grow rapidly. Rejecting Soviet demands for a share in the occupation of Japan, the

United States, with British and French approval, lodged full authority in General Douglas

MacArthur as supreme commander of the occupation forces. But a new Asian war soon

erupted in Korea, drawing in both American and European forces.

The Western Allies and the Soviet Union had agreed during the Second World War

that Korea, once an object of imperialist rivalry between tsarist Russia and Japan, but

under Japanese control since 1910, would become free and independent after Japan’s

defeat. In 1945 the United States, for reasons of military expediency, pro-

posed that Soviet troops temporarily occupy the northern part of the coun-

try down to the 38th parallel; American troops would temporarily occupy

the southern half. But postwar negotiations for a unifi ed Korea foundered.

The U.S.S.R. established a satellite government in its occupation zone and built up North

Korean military strength. The United States developed its own client state in the south and

lent economic and military assistance. Despite the original plans for a united Korean state,

two Koreas had come into existence.

Following a series of border skirmishes between North and South Korea, the North

Koreans launched a sudden, full-scale invasion of the south in June 1950. American and

western European leaders saw the invasion as an open act of Communist military aggres-

sion, the fi rst such clear-cut military aggression of the Cold War. The timing of the inva-

sion seems to have surprised the Soviets, however, because they were then boycotting the

Stalemate in Europe

Korea after 1945

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Chapter 22 The Cold War and Reconstruction after the Second World War896

Security Council of the UN to protest the exclusion of the People’s Republic of China.

They were thus unable to exercise their veto when the Council condemned the invasion

and authorized military countermeasures; but the Soviets quietly furnished

military aid to North Korea and denounced the Americans and western

Europeans for intervening in Asian affairs. President Truman, who viewed

the North Korean invasion as a new example of Soviet expansionism, used

the authority of the Security Council resolution to send American combat

troops to Korea and to approve air strikes on North Korean territory. Gen-

eral MacArthur, the wartime hero of the Pacifi c War who had successfully presided over

the occupation of Japan, was named commander of the UN multinational forces. Although

these forces consisted largely of Americans, a number of western European nations also

sent troops and supported the Korean campaign.

After early setbacks, the American-led UN army drove the North Koreans back above

the 38th parallel, and then rapidly moved toward the Yalu River, the boundary between

Korea and the People’s Republic of China. Mao, incensed at the arrival of a multinational

army on the Chinese border, took action to assert China’s new international infl uence. In

late October 1950 a large Chinese army suddenly appeared and drove the

advancing UN forces back below the 38th parallel. It was now an entirely

new war, to which China had committed major military resources. The

European allies, at fi rst gratifi ed by the American show of determination

in Asia, grew worried that the war would escalate into a global, possibly

nuclear confl ict. President Truman, also growing concerned about a wider war in which

the United States would lack the full support of its European allies, replaced the belligerent

General MacArthur with another commander and sought to negotiate a truce.

In July 1951 a cease-fi re agreement brought large-scale fi ghting to a halt, but armi-

stice negotiations dragged on until 1953. An armistice was eventually signed, drawing

the line of partition between North and South Korea roughly where the fi ghting had

begun three years earlier, at the 38th parallel. Korea thus became offi cially divided, like

Germany, into communist and anticommunist countries.

UN authorizes

military action

Chinese army enters

Korea

The Korean War was a key test for the American and western European policy of contain- ing communism, yet, like all modern wars, it disrupted the lives of millions of civilians, including those who knew little about the larger political issues at stake. This Korean girl and her baby brother were pho- tographed near an American tank in the summer of 1951, but their expressions convey some of the timeless, local struggle to survive amid the violent inter- national confl icts of govern- ments and global powers. (RV Spencer/Interim Archives/Getty

Images)

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897105. Western Europe: Economic Reconstruction

In addition to the costly loss of life on all sides, the Korean War also affected the global

economy. The United States itself could not supply all of the military needs and expenditures

of the war, so the confl ict became a stimulus for the economic growth of western Europe and

Japan. It also quickened the pressures for German rearmament. In American eyes, the costs of

the war were justifi ed because a fl agrant act of aggression had been checked

in Asia. Most western Europeans, even those who were concerned about the

recklessness of General MacArthur, found reassuring implications for Europe

in the fi rm American response to Communist military aggression.

The Korean War also had direct political repercussions in Europe. Despite continu-

ing misgivings among the French and other Europeans over a revival of German military

strength, the American government pressed for West German rearmament. When a French

proposal for a European Defense Community (with a “European army,” in

which the Germans were to serve as “European soldiers”) failed to pass the

French legislature in 1954, West Germany was authorized to create an army

of its own under the overall command of NATO. Concern over a resurgent

German militarism was receding in the context of the Cold War. The West

German constitution guaranteed civilian control over the military. A strong antimilitarist

movement had emerged in the country itself, and a new democratic political culture was

developing. In 1955 the Federal Republic of Germany became a full member of NATO.

The decades that followed the confl icts of the early Cold War in Europe and Asia

brought new crises, including confrontations over Berlin, Cuba, Vietnam, and the Middle

East, to name only the most important. Above all, a mounting nuclear arms race between

the two superpowers and the stockpiling of the most formidable weaponry ever assembled

continued to threaten Europe and the wider world. Amid the ongoing confl icts of the Cold

War, however, Europeans steadily rebuilt their cities, industries, commercial infrastruc-

tures, and social systems. This era of remarkable economic recovery and political recon-

struction brought Europeans back into the global economy and contributed to the growth of

Europe’s population, even as European governments confronted a new wave of anticolonial

movements in their empires and the evolving challenges of eastern European communism.

105. WESTERN EUROPE: ECONOMIC RECONSTRUCTION

The Second World War had left Europe in a worse state of disorder than the First. It had ruined

one of the world’s chief industrial areas and brought its economic system to collapse. Even

when the worst local devastation was repaired, suffering and distress persisted. Europe could

no longer pay for the imports that it needed. During the war the West Europeans, and especially

the British, had used up their overseas investments and lost a good share of the shipping ser-

vices they had once provided. Overseas countries had built up their own industries and needed

those of Europe less, and the United States had taken over markets once in European hands.

At the same time, western Europe was not to be written off. Its population exceeded

that of either of the superpowers. Even in ruins, it still possessed one of the world’s leading

industrial plants and an educated workforce with the skills needed to rehabilitate and run

it. The Europeans did not wish to be rescued by either of the superpowers. Most rejected

communism as a modern form of enslavement. Yet they feared excessive dependence on

the United States. Memories of the stock-market crash of 1929, the economic collapse of

Europe after the withdrawal of American capital, and the Great Depression bred skepti-

cism about American capitalism.

Economic effects of

Korean War

Political effects in

Europe

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Chapter 22 The Cold War and Reconstruction after the Second World War898

The Marshall Plan and European Recovery

For the non-Communist world, the single most important economic real-

ity in the early postwar years was the productivity of the American eco-

nomic system. The American economy had expanded enormously during

the war. At the war’s end the United States accounted for two-thirds of the

world’s industrial production and held two-thirds of the world’s gold. Its

gross national product was two and a half times higher than in 1939; its exports were three

times greater. Despite predictions about postwar economic collapse, its economy grew at

unprecedented rates in the 1950s and 1960s.

When Lend-Lease ended after the war, the United States sent billions of dollars worth

of goods to western Europe to relieve distress and made loans to individual states, espe-

cially to Britain. But the Europeans themselves quickly set about to rebuild their econo-

mies. Within two years, by 1947, the economies of western Europe were approaching

prewar levels of production. American aid was still desperately needed, however, to con-

tinue the purchase of food, fuel, raw materials, and industrial parts essential to full recov-

ery. By the spring of 1947 that recovery appeared at risk. The poorest harvest in a century

was feared. With Cold War tensions mounting, Communist parties in France and Italy

moved away from earlier cooperation in postwar reconstruction and launched a wave of

strikes. Even if the Soviet Union was not actively promoting revolution in western Europe,

understanding perhaps that the United States and its allies would not tolerate overt revolu-

tion there, the Americans were concerned about European stability. Between the two

superpowers the Soviets had more to gain by chaos in western Europe and the United

States had more to gain by its rebuilding.

American economic aid so far had been improvised and piecemeal. In June 1947

Secretary of State George C. Marshall used the occasion of his Harvard commencement

address to invite the Europeans to cooperate in drawing up blueprints for a

broad program of reconstruction, for which the United States would provide

the fi nancial support. The plan, as formulated, was “directed not against

country or doctrine, but against hunger, poverty, desperation, and chaos.”

To reinforce its nonpolitical character, the United States extended the invi-

tation to all European governments, including the Soviet Union and the East European

states. The Soviet Union rejected the proposal and forbade the participation of its East

European satellites, denouncing the plan as “a new venture in American imperialism.”

The West European countries, by contrast, responded eagerly. Under the Marshall

Plan, or European Recovery Program, as enacted by Congress, American aid was coordi-

nated with each country’s needs and with joint European priorities to maximize the benefi ts.

The Offi ce for European Economic Cooperation (OEEC) in Paris, with which the Ameri-

cans worked closely, identifi ed projects, coordinated the planning, and allocated the funds.

The results of the Marshall Plan exceeded the boldest anticipations of

its American sponsors. The West Europeans utilized their technical and

managerial skills to improve transportation facilities, modernize their infra-

structure, and expand their productive capacity. They reduced trade barriers

among themselves and facilitated trade by setting up a payments union.

Hard currency, now available for imports, reduced the fi nancial pressures on the western

European governments and thus curtailed the need for further austerity. The Marshall Plan

accelerated the recovery already under way, enhanced the economic exchanges with the

United States, and encouraged the economic cooperation of the European countries with

each other.

U.S. economic

strength

The Marshall Plan

Results of the

Marshall Plan

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899105. Western Europe: Economic Reconstruction

While the United States thus used its economic resources to help revive its com-

petitors, the Marshall Plan also served American interests by restoring a world market,

of which the United States would be a principal benefi ciary. By creating markets for

American exports in Europe, it helped fuel the postwar economic boom in the United

States. The Americans satisfi ed their humanitarian impulse, served their economic needs,

and reduced the possible drift of Europeans toward the Communist camp. At the same time

the Marshall Plan sharpened the division between the Soviet bloc and western Europe.

Economic Growth in Western Europe

For West Germany the currency reform of 1948, Marshall Plan aid, and the economic

opportunities opened up by the Korean War ignited a stunning economic revival and

expansion, the Wirtschaftswunder, or “economic miracle.” By 1950 the Federal Republic of Germany was exceeding prewar Germany’s production levels, and by 1958 it was the

leading industrial country of western Europe. France, Italy, and other West

European countries experienced an “economic miracle” also. For two and a

half decades, from 1948 to 1974 (when a global recession set in), the west-

ern European economies grew at unprecedented and uninterrupted rates of

growth. The West Europeans basked in prosperity and rising living stan-

dards. Europeans would later speak of the “silver ’50s” and the “golden

’60s”; the French would speak also of the “30 glorious years.” Although Britain’s econ-

omy, burdened by older industries and the loss of overseas markets, lagged behind the

growth in other countries, it too grew faster than at any time in the interwar years.

The prosperity of western Europe in this era derived from a competitive, capitalist,

free-market and private-enterprise economy, but it was accompanied almost everywhere

by varying degrees of extensive economic planning, systematic govern-

ment intervention, and a network of social services to help cope with the

instability of competitive capitalism and the business cycle. No one any-

where wished to repeat the hard times and suffering of the Great Depres-

sion. Keynes’s theories about the wider economic stimulus of government

spending, fi rst formulated in the 1930s but without many adherents at that

time, took hold in the postwar era and dominated government policy in

the 1950s and 1960s even when conservative governments were in control. Governments

kept their economies under close surveillance and used their fi scal and monetary powers

to promote investment, production, and employment and to control infl ation. They took

“countercyclical” measures; that is, at signs of decline in the business cycle they increased

government spending. Full employment was accepted as a goal. Improved statistical tech-

niques and economic forecasting, although far from precision instruments, made economic

planning and “fi ne-tuning” feasible. Such planning, however, took the form of guidance

and direction, not coercion, and differed markedly from the rigid, detailed, and doctrinaire

centralized planning of the Soviet Union and the eastern European Communist states.

In Britain, France, and Italy (less so in West Germany, which had lived through state

control under the Nazis), the postwar governments also nationalized a number of the key

sectors of the economy to bring them under government control. But even in these mixed

economies, the private capitalist sector represented the major share of economic activity.

In all western Europe economic growth became virtually an obsession as both govern-

ments and people came to expect growth rates far exceeding those of the past.

When the sustained economic growth led to a labor shortage, West Germany and other

countries invited foreign workers to join their labor force. Turks, Greeks, Yugoslavs,

The silver ‘50s and

golden ‘60s

Economic planning

and government

intervention

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Chapter 22 The Cold War and Reconstruction after the Second World War900

Spaniards, Portuguese, and Italians (mostly from southern Italy) were invited in as “guest

workers.” Four and a half million workers arrived in the Federal Republic of Germany

alone, over half of them Turks, who did not return home but often formed large enclaves in

which people maintained many of their own cultural traditions and identities. After the

postwar collapse of the European colonial empires, immigrants from the former European

colonies in Asia, Africa, and the Caribbean also arrived in western Europe in large num-

bers. Beginning in the 1950s, a steady stream of immigrants fl owed into Britain from India,

Pakistan, the West Indies, and Africa. France drew large numbers from its

former North African colonies, especially Algeria, and from its former col-

onies in western Africa. The Netherlands became home for many Indone-

sians. Later political refugees also arrived in Europe from Vietnam and

A steady stream of

immigrants

The European “economic miracle” of the 1950s and 1960s brought new jobs and wealth to workers throughout Europe. This picture of British workers in 1957 shows women assembling circuit panels for television sets, one of the important new consumer products in post–World War II economies and social life. (Arthur Tanner/Fox Photos/ Getty Images)

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901106. Western Europe: Political Reconstruction

other parts of Asia. The new Europeans often brought different cultures and religions into

European cities. Most European societies became more multicultural, and there was more

racial diversity everywhere. Mosques became a common sight in neighborhoods where

previously there had been only churches or synagogues. The infl ux of guest workers and

immigrants by the millions later created new social confl icts and resentments, especially in

less affl uent times after the 1970s. The growing presence of large immigrant communities

led to new social friction, often overtly racial or religious, testing the fl exibility and toler-

ance of European societies that were increasingly multiethnic and culturally diverse.

A postwar baby boom and an infl ux of at least 13 million immigrants and refugees

increased the population of western Europe by 25 percent between 1945 and 1970. But by

the 1960s the birth rate of the West Europeans began to level off and western Europe’s

population began to show signs of long-term decline—a demographic pattern that has also

reappeared in other modern, wealthy societies around the world.

In these same postwar years the welfare state grew, going well beyond its

pre-1914 origins or its expansion in the interwar years. The postwar govern-

ments gave a high priority to social objectives, to what the French Resistance

charter had called “a more just social order”: the right to a suitable job, gov-

ernment compensation in the event of unemployment or disability, social security in old age,

free or subsidized health care, and the redistribution of wealth and income through progres-

sive taxation. The protection of the welfare state was intended to be universal, not confi ned,

as in earlier times, to the poor and disadvantaged. Its social objectives could be achieved in

the 1950s and 1960s because of a salutary interplay of government, management, and labor,

which all shared in the consensus about investment and growth. Only later, from the late 1970s

on, did a growing number of critics attract political support by arguing that all these entitle-

ments had become excessive and an impediment to economic growth and competitiveness.

106. WESTERN EUROPE: POLITICAL RECONSTRUCTION

Western Europe also confronted overwhelming challenges of political reconstruction at

the end of the war. Britain was economically exhausted and in the process of liquidating

its empire. France, recovering from the collapse of 1940, the occupation, and the wartime

Vichy regime, became engaged in costly colonial wars in Indochina and Algeria. Italy had

to renew its political life after two decades of fascism. Germany, after the Nazi defeat,

was divided and under military occupation. Nevertheless political reconstruction went for-

ward. Britain resumed its role as the world’s oldest parliamentary democracy; France and

Italy adopted new constitutions; out of the western zone of occupied Germany the Federal

Republic of Germany emerged in 1949.

The smaller states of western Europe also resumed their parliamentary democracies. Only

Spain and Portugal remained under prewar dictatorships until those regimes also came to an

end in the mid-1970s. The right to participate in political life continued to expand throughout

western Europe. Women fi nally received the vote in France and Italy as the war drew to a

close and in Switzerland in 1971. And in another suffrage reform that went almost unnoticed,

the legal voting age in most countries was quietly reduced to 18 in the 1970s.

The earliest postwar elections showed the political strength of a new

desire for social reforms, which also advanced because right-wing politi-

cal groups, as in France, lost infl uence after their wartime collaborations

with the Nazis. The Resistance movements had called during the war for a federal union

Growth of the welfare

state

The spirit of reform

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Chapter 22 The Cold War and Reconstruction after the Second World War902

of Europe to prevent future wars and had emphasized the need for economic and social

rights as well as political freedom. Postwar governments were therefore asked to provide

protection against the insecurities of old age, disability, ill health, and unemployment.

Such ideals shaped the political debates and social reforms in the fi rst years after 1945, but

democratic politics soon reverted to older patterns of bargain and compromise.

The welfare state idea persisted, as did the evolving desire for a more integrated Europe,

but politics became less rigidly ideological. Socialists, following the Scandinavian model,

became Social Democratic reformists, accepting capitalism but insisting that they could

manage capitalist economies more effectively than liberals, centrists, or conservatives. In

France and Italy the presence of large Communist parties, with strong attachments to the

Soviet Union in the early postwar years, complicated the search for pragmatic solutions to

social problems, and yet the Communists also participated in parliaments and rejected rev-

olutionary violence within their own societies. In the Federal Republic of Germany, Italy,

and France, the Christian Democrats, drawing inspiration from Roman Catholic religious

and ethical precepts, played a key role in shaping and governing the new regimes. They

accepted the welfare state but backed away from the egalitarianism of the socialists and,

over time, increasingly came to represent conservative and business interests.

Great Britain: Labour and Conservative

In Great Britain, the fi rst parliamentary elections in ten years, in July 1945, unseated Win-

ston Churchill and the Conservative-led wartime coalition and voted in a Labour govern-

ment. For the fi rst time in its history Labour had a majority of its own. Governing from

1945 to 1951, with Clement Attlee as prime minister, it set Britain on a new course of

parliamentary socialism and the modern welfare state.

On the premise that the country’s basic industries could not be left

to the unplanned anarchy of capitalism and unregulated competition, the

Labour government nationalized the Bank of England, the coal mines, elec-

tricity and gas, iron and steel, and other parts of the economy. Because

four-fi fths of industry remained in private hands, it was a mixed economy that emerged.

At the same time Labour greatly expanded and revamped the social insurance program

inherited from the Liberal reforms of 1906–1914. During the war, in 1942, the British

economist William Henry Beveridge had prepared a government report that proposed to

guarantee “full employment in a free society” and social security for all “from the cradle

to the grave.” Drawing on the Beveridge Report, Labour now extended insurance cover-

age for unemployment, old age, and other contingencies; inaugurated a comprehensive

national health service; and increased income and inheritance taxes.

In the elections of 1951 Labour lost its majority in Parliament. The Conservatives

returned to offi ce and governed for the next 13 years under a succession of prime ministers.

After 1964 the two parties alternated in offi ce. The shifting electoral fortunes stemmed

from disagreement within the country over the welfare state, dissatisfaction with the per-

formance of the economy, concerns about the processes of decolonization in the British

Empire, and frustration at Britain’s diminished global status.

During their years in offi ce, the Conservatives restored some nationalized industries to

private control but did little else to dismantle the welfare state. Both parties recognized,

however, that the social reforms of the welfare state could be absorbed only if the economy

prospered. But there were nagging economic problems. The liquidation of investments to

pay for the Second World War, the loss of export markets, and a decline in income from

shipping and other services adversely affected the country’s balance of payments and

Labour government

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903106. Western Europe: Political Reconstruction

weakened the British pound. With American fi nancial aid, an intensifi ed

export drive, an austerity program that reduced imports, and a curtailment

of military and imperial commitments, the economy gradually improved,

but the British failed at the time to rebuild their obsolescent capital equip-

ment and infrastructure as effectively as their West European neighbors

across the Channel.

Such problems impeded the growth of Britain’s economy and made British workers

vulnerable to competition from more effi cient foreign industries. When infl ation set in dur-

ing the late 1960s and intensifi ed in the 1970s, the trade unions demanded wage increases

to match rising prices. Strikes and prolonged work stoppages troubled the economy and

divided British society. Until the late 1970s, when a new political era opened, the question

was whether Labour or the Conservatives could better manage British decline, not how

they could overcome it.

Meanwhile troubles in Northern Ireland persisted. After the partition in

1922, as noted earlier, the six predominately Protestant counties of North-

ern Ireland, had remained part of the United Kingdom. The Catholic minor-

ity, about one-third of the population, protested militantly that they were

victims of political and economic discrimination and pressed for annexation to the Repub-

lic of Ireland. Open violence broke out in 1969, infl amed by the Irish Republican Army on

the one hand and Protestant extremists on the other. In the sectarian violence that followed,

over 3,000 persons lost their lives.

The French Republic: Fourth and Fifth

After the liberation of France, General Charles de Gaulle, the very incarnation of the Resis-

tance, became provisional president and elections were held for a Constituent Assembly.

Because no one wanted to reestablish the discredited Third Republic, the French under-

took the process of creating a new republican government. The parties of the Right were

discredited by their role in the Vichy regime, but the Left emerged from the war with new

strength and prestige. The Communists, the Socialists, and the Popular Republican Move-

ment ( Mouvement Républicain Populaire, or MRP), a Catholic progressive party akin to Christian Democrats elsewhere on the Continent, formed the provisional government. The

Left pressed for a systematic purge of collaborators, despite the diffi culties in determin-

ing levels of guilt. The purge had begun as soon as the army reached French soil, taking

the form of angry drumhead trials and executions. Gradually, the process

was brought under more orderly judicial procedures. Even so, the trials of

Marshal Pétain and Pierre Laval were impassioned showpieces. The debate

over collaboration and trials of collaborators continued to divide the coun-

try in later decades, in part because some of the most egregious acts of violence against the

French Jews and others had originated with the French Vichy government and not the Nazi

occupiers. Such issues were critically examined in memoirs, controversial history books,

and fi lms, including, for example, the much-debated documentary The Sorrow and the Pity (1969) by the fi lmmaker Marcel Ophuls.

The Fourth Republic’s machinery of government differed in only a few details from

the Third. Once again the presidency was only ceremonial and the premier and cabinet

were responsible to an all-powerful National Assembly. De Gaulle made no secret of his

dislike for the new constitution, the return of party rivalries, and the dominant role of the

legislature, all of which interfered with his vision of a strong France ready to resume a lead-

ership role in world affairs. He resigned in protest in December 1946. The Communists,

Britain’s economic

challenges

Troubles in Northern

Ireland

Purging collaborators

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Chapter 22 The Cold War and Reconstruction after the Second World War904

Socialists, and MRP continued their tripartite coalition under Socialist leadership until the

Communists, in the heightened tensions of the Cold War, fomented a series of strikes and

were expelled from the cabinet in May 1947.

Parliamentary division and ministerial instability grew more acute.

Periodically de Gaulle returned to the political scene, heading a movement

called the “Rally of the French People,” which he described as “above

parties.” Except for the brief reform ministry of Pierre Mendès-France in

1954–1955, governmental ineffectiveness in the midst of colonial wars as

well as recurring domestic and foreign crises fi lled the public with cynicism and hostility.

Yet despite its record of political instability—25 cabinets from 1946 to 1958—the

Fourth Republic enacted signifi cant legislation. The provisional government had national-

ized several key industries, and as in Britain a mixed economy gradually emerged.

“Rally of the French

People”

French leaders sought to revive the national economy and demographic vitality after the Nazi occupation and collapse of international trade during the Second World War. Although France struggled to establish a stable political system, a postwar “baby boom” (encouraged by govern- ment benefi ts for families) led to a rapid growth of the population, an expansion of schools such as this Parisian kindergarten, and a steady increase in trade and industrial production. (Popperfoto/Getty Images)

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905106. Western Europe: Political Reconstruction

The existing social security legislation was expanded. An economic plan, drawn up by

Jean Monnet, a farsighted economist and public offi cial who later played a large role in the

creation of the European Economic Community, enlarged and modernized the country’s

economic base and paved the way for industrial expansion. A fl exible form of economic

planning, inspired by Monnet, in which government, management, and labor played mutu-

ally reinforcing roles, became an accepted part of French economic life. By 1952 produc-

tion levels were 1½ times those of 1938, and industrial output was growing at an annual

rate of over 5 percent. From 1946 to 1966 production tripled. (In the half-century from

1889 to 1940, it had no more than doubled.) The country also displayed a demographic

vitality, at least for a time, that confounded pessimists who had long worried about France’s

low birth rate.

What fi nally brought down the Fourth Republic was the strain of trying to preserve

the old French colonial empire. France alone, of all the major powers, was almost con-

tinuously at war for close to 15 years, fi ghting colonial wars. It faced economic problems

that resembled the need for postwar reconstruction in Germany, Italy, and

Japan, but the former Axis nations emerged from their defeats with no rest-

less colonies to subdue. The new French constitution of 1946 recognized

the emergence of new political aspirations in the French Empire by giving

the colonies representation in Paris but such reforms did not satisfy nationalists pressing

for independence. From 1946 to 1954 the French forces unsuccessfully fought against

independence movements in Indochina until they fi nally had to withdraw. Then, within

a matter of months, the Arab movement for independence in Algeria rose up in another

anticolonial war, which further drained France’s material resources, political morale, and

national confi dence. The European settlers in Algeria and army leaders adamantly opposed

French withdrawal and staged an insurrectionary coup in Algiers in May 1958. When civil

war threatened, the country turned to the one man it believed could save the situation—

Charles de Gaulle, then living quietly in self-imposed retirement. The army leaders, the

settlers in Algeria, and the parties of the Right were convinced, given de Gaulle’s solici-

tude for the army and French national pride, that he would maintain French control of

Algeria. De Gaulle accepted the summons. In June 1958 the National Assembly approved

his appointment as premier, giving him emergency powers for six months, including the

authority to prepare a new constitution.

The Fifth French Republic thus emerged from the crisis in Algeria and from the politi-

cal program of Charles de Gaulle. In the autumn of 1958 the new constitution was over-

whelmingly accepted in a popular referendum, and de Gaulle was shortly thereafter elected

president. The presidency, as de Gaulle had long urged, became the fulcrum of power. The

president was the fi nal authority in foreign affairs and national defense. The president

named the prime minister (as the premier was now called) and had the right to dissolve the

National Assembly, call for new elections, submit important questions to popular referen-

dums, and assume emergency powers, all of which de Gaulle did during his years in offi ce.

Political instability disappeared; in the fi rst 11 years of the Fifth Republic there were only

three cabinets.

DeGaulle settled the Algerian crisis in his own way. Sensitive to the

revolution sweeping the colonial world, he came to recognize that France

must accept a policy of independence for Algeria, which the people of both

France and Algeria voted to approve in separate referendums in the spring

and summer of 1962. Even earlier he granted independence to all of the French colonies

in sub-Saharan Africa. With peace, governmental stability, and economic prosperity, the

French reconciled themselves to the loss of empire and looked for new ways to play a

Colonial wars

France under

de Gaulle

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Chapter 22 The Cold War and Reconstruction after the Second World War906

leading role on the world scene under de Gaulle. France became the world’s fi fth largest

industrial power in the 1960s, behind only the United States, the U.S.S.R., West Germany,

and Japan. In 1960 France became the fourth nation, along with the United States, the

U.S.S.R., and Britain, to develop a nuclear bomb. De Gaulle even created an independent

nuclear strike force, but the French also became western Europe’s largest producers of

nuclear energy for peacetime energy needs.

After the settlement of the Algerian crisis, de Gaulle built a kind of plebiscitary

democracy by direct appeals to the electorate. Although civil liberties were preserved and

free elections were maintained, much of the old democratic ferment disappeared. Skilled

technicians ran the affairs of state, and de Gaulle, an uncrowned republican monarch, pre-

sided as arbiter over the nation’s destinies.

The nation grew restless. There was increasing skepticism about de Gaulle’s tech-

nocratic system of government and his extravagant posturing in world affairs. Suddenly,

in May 1968, grievances in the overcrowded universities sparked a revolt

that led to demonstrations by hundreds of thousands of students and then

brought 10 million workers out on strike, paralyzing the economy and

threatening the regime itself. Students demanded reforms in the education

system, but many also supported the striking workers who agitated for new

rights in their factories as well as better wages. De Gaulle survived the revolt but only after

assuring himself of army support. Stressing the threat of communism and domestic chaos,

he won an overwhelming majority for his party in new elections. Although there was wide

support for institutional reforms in French society, the country as a whole rejected the

outburst of radical political agitation, which was similar to revolts of students and young

people all over the globe in 1968. Educational reforms and other changes were introduced,

but the strikes and social disruptions of 1968 hurt the French economy. In 1969 de Gaulle

chose to turn a referendum on various constitutional and regional reforms into a vote of

confi dence in himself. When his proposed reforms lost by a small margin, he resigned

and retired to his country estate, where he died a year later, an august, heroic, austere, and

always controversial fi gure whose exploits in war and peace assured him a lasting place in

France’s history.

The Federal Republic of Germany

To communicate to the German people and to the entire world the enormity of the Nazi

crimes, the four wartime Allies had convened an international trial in 1945–1946 at

Nuremberg. Hitler, Himmler, and Goebbels were already dead, but 22

other Nazi leaders and the major Nazi organizations were indicted for

crimes against peace, that is, plotting and waging a war of aggression; war

crimes, which were defi ned as violations of the accepted laws and conven-

tions of warfare; and crimes against humanity, that is, acts of mass murder

and genocide. The evidence of evil deeds, massive and incontrovertible,

was set down for posterity in many volumes of recorded testimony. Despite the high moral

purpose of the trials and an honest effort to establish fair judicial procedures for the

accused, some critics questioned their appropriateness, especially the decision to try the

leaders of a defeated sovereign nation for planning and waging war and to indict an agency

of government such as the General Staff of the military. Some also questioned the propri-

ety of having the Soviet Union sit in judgment of the Nazis. These critics argued that the

Soviets were themselves guilty of crimes because they had contributed to the outbreak of

May 1968

The Nuremberg

Trials

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907106. Western Europe: Political Reconstruction

the war, shared in the partition of Poland, and incorporated the Baltic states into the Soviet

Union. Others dismissed the trials as victors’ justice. Yet the Nuremberg trials served in a

singular way to reinforce international standards of civilized behavior and to describe the

meaning of “crimes against humanity.” The court condemned 12 of the defendants to

execution. Seven received prison terms of varying length, including life sentences; three

were acquitted.

The four occupation authorities also carried out a “denazifi cation”

program, which produced mixed results. Because so many professional

Germans had been members of Nazi organizations, it became diffi cult to

exclude them from public life if the normal processes of government were to resume.

Some individuals guilty of the more heinous Nazi crimes fl ed the country and were still

being apprehended and tried many decades after the war’s end by the Germans them-

selves or in French or Israeli courts. But the people who survived the Nazi camps and the

families of Nazi victims only began to receive some fi nancial restitution at the end of the

twentieth century.

Denazifi cation

Demonstrations and strikes swept across France in May 1968, evoking memories of nineteenth-century revolutionary battles in the barricaded streets of Paris, but President de Gaulle was more successful than earlier French kings in quelling crowds and protests. As this photograph suggests, however, clashes between the police and student demonstrators pro- duced strong reactions among all groups in French society during the weeks before de Gaulle and his followers consolidated their power by winning new national elections. (Sipa Press)

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Chapter 22 The Cold War and Reconstruction after the Second World War908

Divided Germany (and Berlin) meanwhile gained new international signifi cance as a

central arena of the Cold War. The German Democratic Republic became one of the most

loyal client states of the Soviet Union. The Federal Republic of Germany became a pros-

perous parliamentary democracy, a full partner of the West, and also made efforts to atone

for the horrors of the Nazi regime.

The West German government encouraged private industry and a capi-

talist, competitive economy; but it also shaped overall economic policies

and provided broad social services, so that West Germany emerged with

what became known as a “social market economy.” The guaranteed ben-

efi ts came to exceed those of other major industrial Western countries. The

Federal Republic also pioneered in bringing labor and capital together. The labor unions

accepted a role as social partners in the expanding economy, moderating wage demands

to avoid infl ation. A “codetermination” law gave workers seats on the boards of directors

of larger fi rms.

After independent state governments had been set up in each state (or Land ) in West Germany with the encouragement of the occupying powers, a constitutional convention

representing the ten German states met in 1948–1949 in Bonn. The convention produced

a Basic Law (or Grundgesetz ) and offi cially established the Federal Republic of Germany. The Basic Law, by design not called a constitution, was to be temporary, valid

only until at some future date the two parts of Germany could be reunited. An extensive

bill of rights was one of its most prominent features. Power was decentralized under a

federal system.

The founders deliberately set out to avoid the weaknesses of the Weimar Republic.

The president, elected indirectly and not by popular vote, was a ceremonial fi gure with

limited political power; a president of stature could, however, as the years revealed, exer-

cise substantial moral authority. The head of government, or real executive,

was the chancellor, responsible, along with the cabinet, to the majority in

the popularly elected lower house, the Bundestag. To avoid instability, a chancellor could be overthrown only when a new majority was ready with

an immediate replacement. Proportional representation guaranteed that

each party would be apportioned seats equivalent to its share of the popular vote, but to

prevent splinter parties and political fragmentation, a party received seats in the legislature

only if it won at least 5 percent of the national vote. The Christian Democratic Union and

the Social Democrats emerged as the two chief parties and shared between them a large

proportion of the popular vote.

The Christian Democratic Union governed uninterruptedly for 20 years, from 1949 to

1969. In reaction to the Nazi barbarism, it sought to infuse politics with a moral idealism

and ethical purpose. Not a confessional party, it appealed to Protestants and Catholics alike,

who were almost equally represented in West Germany, and it received strong support

from the business community and large segments of the middle classes. The dominating

fi gure in the party and government in the early years was the Christian Democratic leader,

Konrad Adenauer, who had begun his career in the pre-1914 imperial era. A patriarchal,

strong-willed personality, his ambition was to regain for Germany a position of dignity

and international respect while moving away from the extreme nationalism

that had been such a destructive force in modern German and European

history. He became chancellor in 1949 at the age of 73 (with only a slim

majority) and governed for 14 years. Opponents criticized der Alte (“the old man”) for creating a “chancellor’s democracy”; but he provided the resolute

A “social market

economy”

The power of the

chancellor

Christian Democrats

and Konrad

Adenauer

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909106. Western Europe: Political Reconstruction

leadership, stability, and continuity that made possible the remarkable economic expansion

of the 1950s and the regaining of full West German sovereignty.

Adenauer successfully integrated the Federal Republic of Germany into the emerging

political, economic, and military structures of western Europe, strengthening ties with

France, cooperating in the movement for European economic integration, and winning the

support and confi dence of the United States and the other Western powers. Indeed, within

a decade after the disastrous military defeat that had left a shattered and occupied country,

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GERMANY AND ITS BORDERS, 1919–1990 Upper panel: The boundaries established after the Treaty of Versailles. Note the Free City of Danzig and the Polish Corri- dor. Middle panel: Germany’s borders at the height of the Second World War in 1942. The Reich proper had then annexed (1) Luxembourg, (2) Alsace and Lorraine from France, (3) Carniola from Yugoslavia, (4) Austria, (5) the Sudeten regions and a Bohemian–Moravian protec- torate from Czechoslovakia, (6) the Free City of Danzig, and (7) Poland. Lower panel: Germany after Hitler’s defeat. East Prussia was divided between Poland and the U.S.S.R., and Poland reached westward almost to Berlin. A Communist East Germany (the German Democratic Republic) and a democratic West Germany (the Federal Republic of Germany) grew out of the zones occupied respec- tively by the Soviets and the West. After the fall of the Com- munist regime in East Germany, Germany was reunited in 1990.

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Chapter 22 The Cold War and Reconstruction after the Second World War910

The new spirit of international cooperation in postwar Europe was expressed in the collabo- ration of French President Charles de Gaulle and German Chancellor Konrad Adenauer (standing next to de Gaulle here and waving to a crowd). The two leaders met often to create a partnership that became the foundation for a new Europe. After fi ghting three major wars in the heart of Europe over a period of 75 years, Germany and France estab- lished a peaceful alliance that brought stability to the con- tinent and eliminated the tra- ditional problem of warfare between two former enemies. (Dalmas/Sipa Press)

West Germany was a major economic power, a coveted ally of the West and an equal

member of NATO. The major opposition party, the Social Democrats, heirs to the Social

Democratic Party founded in the 1870s, criticized Adenauer for his overly close identifi ca-

tion with the United States and for ignoring the issue of national reunifi cation. But the

Social Democrats abandoned their traditional Marxist ideology at a party congress in 1959

and steadily broadened their appeal to the middle classes and younger voters.

In 1965 the Social Democrats, who had softened their neutralist stand in foreign

affairs, joined the Christian Democrats and the Free Democrats (a small liberal centrist

party) in a “grand coalition.” Willy Brandt, the former Social Democratic

mayor of West Berlin, became foreign minister and launched his “East-

ern policy,” or Ostpolitik, a policy that encouraged building bridges to the Soviet Union and eastern Europe, including East Germany. In 1969, with

the support of the Free Democrats, he became chancellor of a new coalition

that ended the 20-year tenure of the Christian Democrats. Brandt negoti-

ated treaties with the Soviet Union and Poland in 1971, formally accepting the German

eastern border at the Oder and West Neisse River line that the Allies had established at the

end of the Second World War. His government offi cially recognized the German Demo-

cratic Republic and promoted close economic ties with it and other countries of eastern

Europe. When a spy scandal in his own entourage cut short his chancellorship in 1974, his

Social Democratic colleague Helmut Schmidt took over and continued his policies. Not

until 1982 would the Christian Democrats return to offi ce with Helmut Kohl as chancellor.

Meanwhile, in the early 1980s, reunifi cation with East Germany still seemed unlikely, only

a remote possibility.

Willy Brandt’s

“grand coalition”

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911106. Western Europe: Political Reconstruction

The Italian Republic

During the struggle to oust the German armies from the Italian peninsula after the fall of

Mussolini in 1943, the Italian political parties, repressed for over two decades under

Fascism, sprang to life. All supported the provisional governments in postwar reconstruc-

tion and committed themselves to democratic renewal. In 1946 the country voted by a nar-

row margin to abolish the Savoy monarchy, never distinguished, and now tarnished by its

cooperation with the Fascist regime. A constitution for the new Italian Republic established

a ceremonial presidency, cabinet government, and legislative supremacy. Proportional rep-

resentation guaranteed equitable representation for all political parties, large and small.

The Christian Democrats quickly became the dominant party. It appealed to all classes

and sectors of Italian society, successfully blending support for democratic political prin-

ciples, a moderately regulated free-enterprise economy, and the labor tenets of social

Catholicism. Although the party remained independent of the Roman Catholic Church, it

remained close to the hierarchy. In Alcide De Gasperi, who had survived

the Fascist years as a librarian in the Vatican, it found an effective leader.

For seven formative years from 1946 to 1953 he presided over a series of

coalition governments, which made possible postwar economic reconstruc-

tion and expansion. In the Cold War he kept Italy fi rmly in the Western

camp. As in France, the Communist Party’s role in the resistance to Fascism helped to

establish its position as a leading party in postwar politics. Communists at fi rst held seats

in the cabinet and cooperated in economic reconstruction, but when they fomented politi-

cally inspired strikes in 1947, De Gasperi dismissed them from his ministry. In 1948, dur-

ing the early years of the Cold War, the United States intervened openly for the fi rst time

in its history to infl uence a European election, throwing its weight behind the Christian

Democrats to thwart the Communists. The Christian Democrats for the fi rst and only time

won an absolute majority in the legislature. The Communists, despite their continuing par-

liamentary strength and support by a third to a fourth of the electorate, remained excluded

from the cabinet.

After De Gasperi’s disappearance from the political scene in 1953, the Christian Dem-

ocrats governed under a succession of short-lived coalition cabinets formed with small

centrist parties. Over the years the Christian Democrats became faction-ridden and less

interested in reform than in patronage. Abandoning their initial idealism, they catered to

propertied and narrow interests, and many in the party profi ted from business connections.

In the early 1960s the Socialists became part of the governing coalition, but this “opening

to the Left” did not alter political rigidities, and the country grew impatient with the unin-

terrupted tenure of the Christian Democrats.

The Communists gained further strength in the 1960s. They weakened their ties with

Moscow, renounced tenets of Marxist-Leninist orthodoxy such as the dictatorship of the

proletariat, and tempered their assault on religion. Architects, with the French party, of

what came to be known as “Eurocommunism,” they declared that each

nation, without deferring to Moscow, must fi nd its own way to a new soci-

ety through parliamentary democracy and national consensus. The stron-

gest Communist Party in the Western world, the Italian party counted

1.8 million members at its peak in the mid-1970s and won the support of 35 percent of

the electorate. Communist mayors and municipal councils governed in many major cities,

including Rome. But the Christian Democrats continued to reject the Communist bid for

seats in the national government.

Alcide De Gasperi’s

Christian Democrats

Eurocommunism

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Chapter 22 The Cold War and Reconstruction after the Second World War912

The unstable political scene did not interfere with Italy’s unprece-

dented economic growth and prosperity. The industrial triangle of Genoa,

Milan, and Turin in northern Italy provided the nucleus for recovery and

expansion. A prosperous economy emerged. By 1949 industrial production

reached 1939 levels, and by the early 1950s Italy’s rate of industrial growth

rivaled that of West Germany and France. Italy was transformed from the primarily agri-

cultural country it had been before the Second World War into one of the world’s leading

industrial nations. An economic revolution had dramatically elevated living standards for

most Italians. Only the underdeveloped south remained a troubled economic region, even

in times of advancing prosperity. In general, however, Italy joined the other nations of

western Europe in a remarkably rapid political and economic recovery from the cata-

strophic events of the Second World War.

107. EUROPE AND THE GLOBAL ECONOMY

Even before the close of hostilities in 1945, the United States, with British support, devel-

oped a bold initiative to reshape the postwar world economy. Determined to avoid the

economic nationalism, trade restrictions, and currency instability of the interwar years, the

planners sought to restore the free fl ow of trade and the stable currencies of the pre-1914

era. In 1944 the United States convened an international conference of 44 nations at

Bretton Woods, New Hampshire. The participants pledged to reduce trade barriers and

work for stable currencies in the postwar world.

An effort to establish a formal world trade organization to oversee international com-

merce foundered, but an alternative strategy proved successful. The United States had

earlier negotiated bilateral trade agreements with a number of countries to reduce tariffs on

a reciprocal basis, with each agreement carrying a “most-favored nation” clause whereby

concessions to one country were extended to all. These piecemeal arrangements led in

1948 to a broader arrangement, the General Agreement on Tariffs and Trade (GATT),

embodying the same negotiating principle. Subscribed to initially by 23

nations, GATT became the foundation of a postwar global commercial sys-

tem in which Europeans gradually regained part of the international infl u-

ence they had lost during the Second World War.

The General Agreement laid down rules to prevent discrimination in international

trade, set up procedures for handling complaints, and provided a framework for continuing

negotiation through lengthy bargaining sessions, or “rounds,” designed to lower tariffs and

remove nontariff barriers. By the 1990s over 100 countries were participating. GATT was

only a partial substitute for a formal international trade organization, but it contributed to

the vast expansion of world trade beginning in the 1950s. Not until 1997 was a formal

World Trade Organization (WTO) established, with enlarged powers to mediate agree-

ments and settle trade disputes. The WTO in its turn faced new problems and recurring

controversies as it tried to resolve the confl icting claims of different nations in the global

economy.

The “world economy” in the early postwar years meant the world’s non-Communist

or free-market economies. The strategic centers were North America and western Europe,

with the addition of Japan, which doubled its share of world trade between 1951 and 1960.

Latin America, Asia, the Middle East, Australasia, and Africa were also

integrated into the postwar world economy, so that the new commercial

networks had truly global dimensions. The Soviet Union played no part in

A prosperous

economy

GATT

Global participation

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913107. Europe and the Global Economy

any of the postwar trade negotiations and restricted its commerce principally to its East

European bloc of satellites. In the late 1960s the Soviets and the East European countries

opened up trade and economic relations with western Europe and the United States but not

until the late 1980s did they seek integration into the global economy.

Currency Stability: Toward the “Gold-Dollar” Standard

If the fi rst objective of the wartime Bretton Woods conference was to liberalize trade, the

second was to stabilize the world’s currencies. The chaos of the interwar years when nation

after nation abandoned the gold standard and competed in currency devaluations to gain

Europe’s postwar economic expansion included new exchanges with Japan, where innovative technologies contributed to the growing Japanese role in the global economy of the 1950s and 1960s. This superexpress train, which went into service between Tokyo and Osaka in 1964 and is shown here passing Mount Fuji, became one of the well-known symbols of modern Japanese society. Reaching speeds of over 150 miles per hour, these trains set a standard for the later development of other very high-speed trains in Europe and showed how the new commercial streams fl owed between Europe and Asia in both directions. (George Gester/Science Source)

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Chapter 22 The Cold War and Reconstruction after the Second World War914

trade advantages haunted everyone. The Bretton Woods conference sought to restore the

equivalent of the pre-1914 gold standard, which had provided for fi xed exchange rates and

the convertibility of all currencies into gold or into the equivalent at the time, British

pounds sterling.

Currency stabilization, however, turned out to be more diffi cult than

anticipated. The stable conversion of different currencies into gold or dol-

lars at fi xed exchange rates did not become possible until the end of 1958.

For about a dozen years, until 1971, each major currency had a par value in

gold and in dollars. For that same short time the American dollar, like the

British pound before 1914, was accepted as the equivalent of gold itself. But the postwar

economic situation changed rapidly as the American share of world commerce declined in

the 1960s; the era of the “gold-dollar standard” proved short-lived, and a system of “fl oat-

ing currencies” and fl uctuating exchange rates took its place.

Meanwhile two important agencies established after the war helped in international

fi nancial settlements. The International Monetary Fund (IMF) provided loans to governments

to manage temporary balance of payments diffi culties and to help reduce the

need for currency devaluations. The International Bank for Reconstruction

and Development (or World Bank) made long-term loans to the governments

of poorer countries for economic development. Both agencies played a larger

role in later years than in the immediate postwar era, and both became con-

troversial when critics complained that their policies did not really benefi t

the world’s poorer nations or people. Both were located in Washington, their major funding

provided by the United States. The economic center of gravity for the North Atlantic world,

like the political and the military, lay after 1945 on the American side of the ocean.

European Integration: From the Common Market to the European Community

As western Europe expanded economically, it also drew closer together in a more inte-

grated economic system. There had been numerous proposals in the interwar years for

a European federation. The war, the wartime Resistance movements, the Marshall Plan,

European cooperative recovery efforts, and the threat from the Soviet Union in the Cold

War all reinforced the idea that western Europe’s future lay in unity. A

number of European leaders pressed for the creation of a “United States of

Europe.” In 1949 delegates representing the parliaments of ten countries met

in Strasbourg to establish a Council of Europe with the hope that it might

become a legislative body for a federated Europe. Although the Council of

Europe grew in membership over the years and continued to support the idea of federation,

it never became an important political force. It confi ned itself to humanitarian, cultural, and

social issues. In 1958 it set up a European Court of Human Rights to protect the rights of

individuals in its member nations against arbitrary government actions. It banned corporal

punishment in the schools and outlawed the death penalty for convicted criminals.

European integration itself, however, took a different path, beginning in the economic

area. In 1948 Belgium, the Netherlands, and Luxembourg created a customs union, called

Benelux, which provided the benefi ts of an expanded free trade area for the three small

countries. At the same time the visionary but pragmatic French administrator Jean Monnet,

who had helped reorganize the postwar French economy, recognized that the fi rst steps

toward greater European unity had to develop along modest economic lines and begin with

specifi c objectives.

Currency

stabilization

The IMF and the

World Bank

Expansion and unity

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915107. Europe and the Global Economy

In 1952, under a plan designed by Monnet, six West European countries—France, the

Federal Republic of Germany, Italy, and the three Benelux nations—placed their coal and

steel industries under a form of supranational authority. They established

the European Coal and Steel Community, its headquarters in Luxembourg.

The six nations not only agreed to eliminate import duties and quotas on

coal and steel but also placed production under a common High Authority

with decision-making powers. A council of ministers represented the six

governments, but the High Authority carried out major administrative functions.

Monnet was the fi rst president of the European Coal and Steel Community, which

paved the way for economic integration that would extend far beyond a single sector of

the West European economy. In a momentous second step, the same six nations on March

25, 1957, signed the Treaty of Rome, creating a large free-trade area or cus-

toms union, the European Economic Community, or Common Market, its

headquarters in Brussels, with the goal of moving toward full economic and

even political integration. The six nations pledged to eliminate tariff barri-

ers, develop a common tariff with respect to the outside world, harmonize social and eco-

nomic policies, and work toward the free movement of capital and labor. Under a separate

treaty the member countries also agreed to coordinate their nonmilitary atomic research

and technology in a European Atomic Community.

The six-nation Common Market, encompassing 175 million people in 1958, quickly

became one of the thriving economic aggregates of the expanding world economy. By 1968,

even earlier than anticipated, the last internal tariff was dropped and trade among the six

nations grew at a rate double that of trade with outside countries. Its infl uence spread to the

former European colonies, with which it worked out preferential trade arrangements. Through

the Common Market, western Europe set about to recapture a key role in the new confi gura-

tion of global affairs, which had been dominated since 1945 by the two superpowers. The

Common Market also helped further absorb a revived democratic West Germany into western

Europe and to nurture reconciliation between France and Germany, ending the internecine

rivalries that had devastated the European continent in the fi rst half of the twentieth century.

In 1967 the three “Communities” consolidated themselves into what

now came to be called the European Community. Their high commissions

became the European Commission and their assemblies became the Euro-

pean Parliament, meeting in Strasbourg. The members of the European Par-

liament took seats by party affi liation and not by nation. In 1979, for the fi rst time, they

were not chosen by their respective governments but were elected by a European-wide

electorate. The Parliament enjoyed only limited legislative authority, but it supervised the

budget and the European Commission and kept alive the idea of unity. Final decision

making still rested with the council of ministers representing each of the member nations,

whose decisions on important matters had to be unanimous.

Great Britain initially refrained from joining the Common Market. Its economic ties to

the Commonwealth, its dependence on low-priced food imports, and its unwillingness to

accept any supranational authority kept both Labour and Conservative governments from

joining. But Britain’s economy continued to lag behind the economic growth of the major

western European nations, prompting the British government eventually to seek Common

Market membership in 1963. Britain’s request was vetoed by President de Gaulle, how-

ever, because he regarded Britain and its admittedly “special relationship” with the United

States as a threat to French leadership on the Continent. Not until after de Gaulle retired

from the political scene in 1969 did Britain gain admission.

The European Coal

and Steel Community

The Common Market

The European

Community

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Chapter 22 The Cold War and Reconstruction after the Second World War916

If the years 1958–1968 showed remarkable gains in economic integra-

tion, the advance toward political unity was slower. Although de Gaulle

understood the contribution of the Common Market to the prosperity of

western Europe and envisioned a strong western Europe as a counterpoise

to the two “hegemonic superpowers,” he opposed political or supranational authority for

the Community. Europe had to be a Europe of sovereign states, a Europe des patries. The more dedicated Europeanists were disappointed. Yet the supranational economic and

political machinery of the Community, the day-to-day cooperation of the European civil

servants or bureaucrats (inevitably called “Eurocrats”) in Brussels and Strasbourg, and the

close consultation on common interests were favorable signs for unity, even apart from the

military and defense ties that brought the western Europeans together in NATO. French-

German friendship, cemented by de Gaulle and Adenauer and reinforced by their succes-

sors, remained the linchpin of cooperation within the Community.

The Europeans showed no haste to surrender their national sovereignty and indepen-

dence, but the European Community created a strong sense of common destiny, a shared

faith in democratic institutions and market economies and a concern for human rights and

social needs. It not only contributed immeasurably to the economic and political strength

of western Europe but also helped restore it to a larger role in world affairs; and by the

beginning of the twenty-fi rst century the European Community was projecting its own

transnational military force.

Western Europe accounted in the 1960s for one-fourth of all imports

and one-fi fth of all exports in the world economy; for a time its exports

equaled those of the United States and Japan combined. One-third of the

largest multinational corporations, that is, corporations that set up subsid-

iaries outside their own country for manufacturing or sales, were Euro-

pean. London, Frankfurt, and Paris were again important fi nancial centers. In 1971 West

European steel production surpassed that of the United States. European (and Japanese)

automobiles cut sharply into American domestic and foreign markets. Self-suffi cient in

food, western Europe became the world’s largest exporter of dairy products. The Federal

Republic of Germany, in the 1960s, enjoyed a gross national product exceeded only by

the economies of the United States and the U.S.S.R., even though it had only one-fourth

the population of each; it accounted for one-third of the Common Market’s gross national

product. Western Europe and Japan were whittling away at the American economic lead in

production and trade and bringing to a close the era of the dollar’s supremacy.

End of the Gold-Dollar Standard, 1971

The new trading patterns created monetary problems for the global fi nancial

system that had developed after the Second World War. Because America’s

exports no longer exceeded its imports, American trade shifted to an unfa-

vorable balance of payments. The United States spent more abroad than it

earned abroad. The postwar dollar shortage in other countries gave way to a “dollar glut.”

Western Europe accumulated large dollar reserves (or “Eurodollars”), some $50 billion by

1971; oil-rich Arab states held “petrodollars.” The number of dollars held abroad exceeded

American gold reserves.

The shift in the American economic position undermined confi dence in a dollar that

many now viewed as overvalued. De Gaulle, resentful of American political and economic

power, demanded an end to the gold-dollar standard and a return to gold itself. In 1965

Advance toward

political unity

West European

competition

Trade imbalances

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917107. Europe and the Global Economy

France redeemed hundreds of millions of its dollar holdings for gold. Other central banks

in Europe and Japan did not follow suit, but private investors speculated against the dollar.

American gold and foreign currency reserves dropped precipitously.

In 1971 President Nixon unilaterally suspended gold convertibility and thus devalued

the dollar against European and other currencies. A second devaluation came in 1973. The

global monetary system projected at Bretton Woods ended. Despite many proposals, there

was no formal revision of the postwar methods for currency exchanges. Instead, on a day-

to-day basis and with considerable success, the world’s major currencies

were allowed to “fl oat,” that is, to fl uctuate daily against each other and

against the dollar in world markets. Gold itself fl uctuated freely and offi cial Floating currencies

The global economy of the 1970s and the “fl oating” of national currencies gave a new impor- tance to the world’s leading fi nancial markets and stock exchanges. Governments in Europe and around the world found that the value of their money and the stability of their economies were constantly affected by the speculations of infl uential investors. The traders in this pho- tograph were active at the London stock exchange, where fi nancial speculators helped Britain regain much of its earlier prominence in international markets. (George W. Hales/Fox Photos/Getty Images)

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Chapter 22 The Cold War and Reconstruction after the Second World War918

gold prices were abolished. Although the American dollar remained the world’s principal

reserve currency, the West German mark and the Japanese yen took their place beside the

dollar as key international currencies.

The breakdown of the postwar monetary arrangements did not seriously affect the

world economy. Currencies did not collapse because they were no longer exchangeable for

gold. For currency stability the fi nancial markets and global trading companies learned to

rely mainly on international consultation and rapid exchange of information, but govern-

ments found their currencies and economic policies vulnerable to speculators and fast-

moving exchanges in a global fi nancial system that crossed all national boundaries.

108. COMMUNIST SOCIETIES IN THE U.S.S.R. AND EASTERN EUROPE

Stalinism in the Postwar Years

In March 1953 Russia’s twentieth-century Peter the Great died. Like his eighteenth-century

tsarist predecessor, Stalin had a massive impact during his almost 30 years in power. He was

responsible for industrialization in the 1930s, the rallying of the country in the Great Patriotic

War, the expansion of the nation’s borders, the consolidation of Communist regimes in eastern

Europe, and the emergence of the Soviet Union as a nuclear power. But the human costs of the

Stalinist transformation of the country were staggering. Millions had fallen victim in the 1930s

to his forced collectivization of the countryside and the ensuing famine, and additional millions

had died as a result of his purges. Western and Soviet scholars alike have estimated the total

fi gure of Stalin’s victims at least as high as 20 million, quite apart from the millions of lives lost

in the Second World War. Because the civil war and war communism earlier under Lenin had

also taken millions of lives, the Communist regime from its emergence in 1917 to its demise in

1991 must be counted among the costliest experiments in social engineering in all history.

The Stalinist terror had continued during the war. Entire ethnic groups

like the Crimean Tatars and the Volga Germans, suspected of collabora-

tion with the Nazis, were forcibly moved east to Siberia. Mass deportations

took place from Estonia, Latvia, and Lithuania, the three Baltic republics

that had been formally annexed in 1940. At the war’s end, returning Soviet soldiers who

had been prisoners of war and civilian deportees forced to work for the Nazis in Europe

were sent off to labor camps because their exposure to other European societies made them

suspect. The unbridled authority of the secret political police (the NKVD, later the KGB)

continued to increase, and the network of forced labor camps grew in size. Ideological

restrictions tightened. Stalin’s personal suspicions, growing sharper with the passage of

the years, fi lled even his closest associates with dismay. In later years, in a freer atmo-

sphere both before and after the dissolution of the U.S.S.R., Russians debated whether

Stalin’s dictatorship represented a logical outgrowth of the Bolshevik Revolution itself

and of many of Lenin’s policies or was his own personal distortion.

Controls over intellectual life in the postwar years took on a vehemently national-

istic and xenophobic tone; deviations from Stalin’s “line” in economics, music, genet-

ics, history, and linguistics were forbidden. An offi cially inspired anti-Semitism, thinly

disguised as anti-Zionism, accused Jewish intellectuals of being “rootless cosmopolitans.”

The political police meanwhile fabricated conspiracies to justify the terror. In the fi ctitious

“doctors’ plot,” offi cially announced in early 1953, a score of Jewish doctors were arrested

for plotting to poison Stalin and other Kremlin leaders; one month after Stalin died, his

successors withdrew the charges and freed the imprisoned physicians.

Stalinist terror

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919108. Communist Societies in the U.S.S.R. and Eastern Europe

Khrushchev: The Abortive Effort at Reform

After Stalin’s death the party leaders resolved to exercise collective control, determined

that no single leader should again dominate party and government. In the struggle for

power, however, authority gradually shifted to Nikita S. Khrushchev. Outwardly jovial

and ebullient, Khrushchev was a tough and hardened party stalwart who had enforced

Stalin’s purges in Ukraine and had long been a member of the Central Committee and

Politburo, but he was shrewd enough to recognize the need for change.

In part to win allies against those in the party who were opposed to change,

Khrushchev encouraged a greater measure of cultural and intellectual freedom—a “thaw.”

He put restraints on the still formidable powers of the political police. He

surprised many with an attack on Stalin’s record. In a speech to the twentieth

party congress in 1956, he offi cially revealed or corroborated the “crimes of

the Stalin era,” making partial but nonetheless startling disclosures of the

Stalinist terror. Stalin had been personally responsible for the purges and

executions of the 1930s, and millions of victims had been innocent of the charges against

them; his most intimate colleagues had lived in fear for their lives. Khrushchev also revealed

Stalin’s initial loss of nerve and ineptitude at the time of the German invasion in June 1941.

Although Khrushchev criticized Stalin, the thaw in Soviet society was never sys-

tematic or thorough. In 1958 Boris Pasternak was forbidden to accept the Nobel Prize

in literature because his novel, Dr. Zhivago, by stressing individual freedom, implicitly condemned the oppressiveness of Soviet society. But in 1962 Alexander Solzhenitsyn was

permitted to publish his One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich, a depiction of human suffering in the forced labor camps. Khrushchev continued the de-Stalinization cam-

paign. Cities named in Stalin’s honor were renamed: Stalingrad, the most famous, became

Volgograd. Stalin’s body was removed from the mausoleum on Red Square, where it had

lain next to Lenin’s, and buried outside the Kremlin Wall.

Khrushchev’s “thaw”

CHRONOLOGY OF NOTABLE EVENTS, 1945–1962

1945 The UN is established at a conference in San Francisco

1947 Secretary of State George C. Marshall announces U.S. plan to aid the rebuilding

of Europe

1948–1949 American airlift of supplies sustains West Berlin during Soviet blockade

1949 The Soviet Union successfully tests an atomic bomb

1949 United States and western Europe create NATO

1949 Mao Zedong and the Communist Party proclaim the People’s Republic of China

1950–1953 Korean War demonstrates new American policy to “contain” communism

1953 Death of Stalin opens new era in Soviet and East European history

1956 Unsuccessful revolts against Soviet control in Poland and Hungary

1957 Six western European nations establish a new Common Market for trade

1958 France establishes the Fifth Republic with Charles de Gaulle as president

1962 French war in Algeria ends with recognition of Algerian independence

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Chapter 22 The Cold War and Reconstruction after the Second World War920

For the economy Khrushchev pressed decentralization, attempting to

loosen tight central economic controls by creating regional economic coun-

cils and offering factory managers greater autonomy and incentives for effi -

ciency and profi tability. Meanwhile the country successfully tested the hydrogen bomb;

launched its fi rst space satellite, Sputnik, in 1958; and built its fi rst intercontinental ballis-

tic missiles. The Soviet economy was second only to that of the United States in gross

national product, though it lagged far behind in the production and consumption of modern

consumer goods. Within a decade, Khrushchev boasted in the early 1960s, the Soviet econ-

omy would surpass the American. The stress on heavy industry and on military expendi-

tures meant, of course, continuing privation for the ordinary citizen, and the emphasis on

quantity to the neglect of quality concealed deep fl aws in the system as a whole.

Khrushchev’s most ambitious effort lay in agriculture, the weakest sector of the econ-

omy ever since Stalin’s forced collectivization. He sought to bring under cultivation the

“virgin lands” of Soviet Central Asia, in Kazakhstan and elsewhere, but crop failures

thwarted the experiment. His reforms did little to alter the bureaucratized system of collec-

tive and state farms inherited from Stalin or to inspire the collective farmers to increase

their output. For the party itself he unsuccessfully sought fi xed terms of offi ce for impor-

tant party posts. Few of his reforms were acceptable to the government and party

Decentralization

The Cold War did not end after the death of Joseph Stalin, but the new Soviet leader Nikita Khrushchev spoke of “peaceful coexistence” with Western nations and even traveled to the United States. Wearing his Soviet medals, Khrushchev appears in a congenial mood during a White House meeting in 1959 with the American President Dwight Eisenhower and Vice President Richard Nixon. (RIS-Novosti/Sovfoto)

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921108. Communist Societies in the U.S.S.R. and Eastern Europe

bureaucrats, the apparatchiki, who saw their privileged positions threatened and who mus- tered opposition to his “hare-brained” schemes.

Khrushchev pursued a truculent foreign policy. Proclaiming that war was not inevitable

with the United States and other capitalist countries, he spoke of “peaceful coexistence,”

and relations for a time improved. But the Cold War confl icts by no means disappeared.

In 1960 he scuttled a summit meeting with Allied leaders and in 1962, following new

tensions in Berlin, Khrushchev overreached himself in a confrontation with the United

States during the Cuban missile crisis (to be described in a subsequent chapter). He also

clashed openly with Communist China. His boastfulness and recklessness,

his retreat in Cuba, the failure of his agricultural and other economic poli-

cies, and his attempt to reform the party itself led to his downfall. In 1964

the party leadership ousted him from offi ce. He lived quietly in Moscow

until his death in 1971. In the post-Stalin era, a reformer did not necessarily have to fear for

his life, but there were clear limits to the reforms the party and bureaucracy would tolerate.

Leonid I. Brezhnev, who had helped engineer Khrushchev’s downfall, soon emerged as

the new Soviet leader.

Eastern Europe: The Decades of Dictatorship

Although nothing like the Russian Revolution of 1917 erupted in Europe after the Second

World War, communism made dramatic advances in central and eastern Europe through

the Red Army’s military presence and the support given to local Communist leaders.

Eleven European states and 100 million Europeans fell under Communist-style govern-

ments. The areas considered in 1919 by the Allied peacemakers to be a protective buffer

against Bolshevism were now under Communist domination.

The three Baltic states, Estonia, Latvia, and Lithuania, came under Soviet control

under the terms of the Nazi-Soviet pact, and in 1940 they were incorporated into the

U.S.S.R. as Soviet socialist republics. Later, in the sweep of military operations during

the last months of the war, Poland, Hungary, Romania, Bulgaria, and Czechoslovakia fell

into the orbit of Soviet infl uence. East Germany, initially part of the joint

Allied occupation of Germany, was shaped into a sixth Soviet satellite as

the German Democratic Republic. Yugoslavia and Albania, liberated by

their own partisan leaders rather than by the Red Army, were governed by

Communist regimes but with looser ties to the Soviet Union and soon broke

with the Soviets. Despite its defeat in the Soviet-Finnish War in 1940, Finland escaped

Communist domination. Accepting its wartime territorial losses, it maintained its indepen-

dence by a cautious neutrality in foreign policy and a discreetly correct relationship with

the Soviets. Austria, after a decade of joint occupation by the four Allied powers, gained

independence as a neutral state in 1955.

Consolidation of Communist Control

The Soviets consolidated control in eastern Europe in stages. Soviet military occupation

made it possible for local Communist leaders, many returning from exile in Moscow, to

dominate Left coalition governments. In the early coalition governments everywhere, the

Communists shared power but held the key ministries of interior, propaganda, and justice,

and controlled the police, the army, and the courts. Individuals alleged to have been “fascist”

or to have collaborated with the Nazis were barred from public life and from voting; the

Khrushchev’s fall

Soviet satellites

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Chapter 22 The Cold War and Reconstruction after the Second World War922

loose defi nition of “fascist” and “reactionary” barred many who were only anti-Communist.

In the fi rst elections, in Poland and elsewhere, purges and disfranchisement made a mockery

of Stalin’s pledge at Yalta to hold “free and unfettered elections” in eastern Europe. Protests

by the United States and Great Britain only hardened the Soviet position.

The new regimes confi scated and redistributed large estates and put

uncultivated land to use, so that 3 million peasant families acquired about

6 million acres of land; the agrarian reforms were the fi nal blow to the landed

aristocracy that had once ruled in eastern Europe. They also nationalized the

economy. As they struggled with postwar reconstruction, the new regimes

had lent a sympathetic ear to the American invitation in 1947 to accept Marshall Plan aid.

But Stalin blocked their participation in the Marshall Plan, fearing that the East European

countries would drift into the Western economic orbit. After the summer of 1947, wherever

non-Communists were still strong, the Communists ousted their political rivals and banned

or reduced to impotence all other political parties. In Czechoslovakia the coalition govern-

ment lasted longer than elsewhere but fell victim to a Communist coup in February 1948.

With the Communists in control, the leaders of the opposition political parties were

forced into fl ight, imprisoned, or in other ways silenced. The new regimes, notably in

Poland and Hungary, clashed also with the Roman Catholic Church; high-ranking prelates

were brought to public trial and imprisoned, and church property was confi scated. The

Communist leaders themselves soon became Stalin’s victims. From 1949 to 1953, refl ect-

ing the repression in the Soviet Union in Stalin’s last years, purges, arrests, trials, confes-

sions, and executions occurred in the highest ranks of each party. Leaders were accused of

nationalist deviations and of conspiring with Tito, the independent-minded Communist

leader of Yugoslavia.

The new “people’s democracies” took steps to collectivize agriculture in countries

where peasants had long struggled to gain more control over the lands on which they

worked. In Bulgaria, the most docile of the satellites, over half the arable

land was collectivized; but in Hungary, only about a third. In Poland, where

resistance was strongest, collectivization was halted after a short time. Agri-

culture in the people’s republics, as in the Soviet Union, remained the weak-

est part of the economy. Farmers diligently cultivated their individual plots

of land but worked reluctantly on the large collectives. All of the East European societies

also entered a new phase of industrialization. But the emphasis on heavy industry to the

neglect of consumer goods and pressures to complement the economy of the Soviet Union

severely limited the improvement of East European living standards—an enduring eco-

nomic problem that ultimately weakened the internal political power of every eastern

European Communist regime.

The Soviets formalized their economic relationship with eastern

Europe through the Council for Mutual Economic Assistance, but the

Council (established in 1949) never worked as cooperation among equals.

The Soviets provided low-cost raw materials and oil and provided a large

market for East European goods, regardless of their quality, but much of the

economic cooperation principally benefi ted the Soviet Union. Militarily, the Warsaw Pact,

signed in 1955, brought the six East European countries together into a mutual defense

alliance, and Soviet troops remained stationed in eastern Europe in large numbers.

Yugoslavia, freed from the Nazis largely by its own partisan armies, made a remarkable

show of resistance to the Soviets. The Yugoslav Communist leader, Marshal Tito, kept a

tight grip on the multinational state but loosened centralized controls over the economy and

Agrarian reform and

nationalization

Collectivization

Economic and

political cooperation

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923108. Communist Societies in the U.S.S.R. and Eastern Europe

abandoned collectivization of agriculture. He pursued an independent foreign policy, openly

defi ed Moscow, and took his stand with the neutralist nonaligned nations of Asia and Africa.

The fi rst major Communist fi gure to declare his independence from Moscow, Tito estab-

lished a model of national autonomy for other Communist leaders and parties to follow.

Ferment and Repression in East Germany, Poland, and Hungary, 1953–1956

The changes in the Soviet Union after Stalin’s death directly affected the Soviet satellites.

The East Europeans chafed at collectivization, forced industrialization, austere living stan-

dards, subservience to the Soviets, and harsh rule by Stalinist-type leaders who remained

in power for years after Stalin disappeared. An initial outburst, riots in East Berlin in June

1953, was quickly suppressed. New ferment rose to the surface, however, after Khrush-

chev denounced the brutal character of the Stalin dictatorship and, in an attempt to win

back Yugoslavia, made the offi cial concession that “different roads to socialism” were

possible. This concession and his de-Stalinization speech in 1956 opened a Pandora’s box;

undermining Stalin’s infallibility undermined Soviet infallibility as well.

In 1956 open revolt broke out in Poland and Hungary, led by the East

European Communist Party leaders themselves. In Poland, where national

sentiment and church attachments ran deep, pressures for internal freedom

and for independence from Moscow led to riots and demonstrations. The

Communist leader Wladyslaw Gomulka relaxed political and economic controls, halted

collectivization, improved relations with the church, and took steps to loosen the bonds

to Moscow. The country welcomed an alternative to direct Soviet control. Khrushchev

threatened military action but backed down. For a few years, Gomulka curbed police terror

and created a freer atmosphere, but the reform era was short-lived, and Gomulka’s regime

controlled Poland with growing repression throughout the 1960s.

In Hungary, in 1956, events took a tragic turn. When news of Gomulka’s success in

Poland reached Budapest, demonstrations broke out; young rioters even toppled a statue

of Stalin. The reform-minded Communist leader Imre Nagy, who had earlier been driven

from the premiership, returned to power. His reform program and release of political pris-

oners ignited pressures not only for democratization and parliamentary government but

also for the severance of ties to Moscow. Alarmed, the Soviets forced the party leadership

to remove Nagy from power and to replace him with the more subservient Jánós Kádar,

who accepted Soviet intervention. Khrushchev dispatched troops, tanks, and artillery to

suppress the “counterrevolution” and forcefully reestablished Communist rule. Severe

reprisals followed. Nagy himself was imprisoned, then tried and hanged, and his body

was thrown into a mass grave. In the wake of the repression, 200,000 Hungarians fl ed

into exile, mainly to the United States, a larger number than at any time since the crush-

ing of the European revolutions of 1848–1849. The Soviet tanks in Budapest weakened

any remaining illusions about the liberalism of Stalin’s successors, provoked international

condemnation, and drove many Communists in western Europe and elsewhere to renounce

their affi liations with Communist parties.

By the late 1950s the Soviet Union and the United States had therefore established

opposing “spheres of infl uence” in eastern and western Europe, but these arrangements

became relatively stable during the Cold War because neither superpower was able or

willing to challenge the ascendancy of the other power within its own European sphere.

Although the Americans and their western European allies harshly condemned the Soviet

repression in Hungary, for example, they did not take steps to intervene with military

Revolt in Poland

and Hungary

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Chapter 22 The Cold War and Reconstruction after the Second World War924

The demand for reforms spread rapidly in Hungary during the fall of 1956. Emboldened by changes in Communist Poland and by the policies of Hungar- ian reformer Imre Nagy, the people of Budapest protested the repressive policies of the Soviet Union, destroyed statues of Communist leaders, and (like the group in this picture) defi - antly burned portraits of Joseph Stalin. The Soviets soon inter- vened with decisive military force. Nagy was executed, and the new Soviet-supported Hun- garian regime crushed all forms of anti-Communist dissent. (Hulton-Deutsch Collection/Corbis)

force. The Cold War thus never evolved into a new international war on the European con-

tinent, despite the bitter confrontations, mutual suspicions, and ongoing arms race.

In this same era, however, both the Europeans and the Americans became involved

in wars outside of Europe, especially when the expanding anticolonial movements were

viewed as part of a global communist challenge to either the European imperial systems or

the interests of the United States. Most of Europe’s far-fl ung Asian and African colonies

entered a new stage of nationalist agitation after the Second World War—agitation that

developed into prolonged guerrilla wars in places such as Vietnam and Algeria. These

campaigns against European empires often became entangled in the wider confl icts of the

Cold War; and the new nations that emerged from the struggles for decolonization also

became new sites for the interplay of global political forces and for the destabilizing social

transitions of the turbulent world economy.

For suggested further readings and useful Web sites, interactive exercises, glossary, chronologies,

and more, go to the Online Learning Center at www.mhhe.com/palmerhistory11e .

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925

C h a p t e r 23 DECOLONIZATION

AND THE BREAKUP

OF THE EUROPEAN

EMPIRES

Among all of the political and cultural changes in the three decades after 1945, nothing was more rev-

olutionary, more dramatic, or perhaps more unex-

pected in Europe than the rapid and almost complete

demise of the European overseas colonial empires.

Although the main colonial nations were all weak-

ened or even defeated during the various phases of

the Second World War, Britain, France, the Nether-

lands, Belgium, and Portugal still governed large

parts of the world’s population in 1945. Within

30 years, however, the colonial empires of these nations had all disintegrated. Hundreds of

millions of people around the world became citizens of new states whose governments,

economies, and cultures became independent after long periods of European colonial

control; and European interactions with the peoples of their former empires entered a new

era of postcolonial exchanges in which Europe’s world supremacy came to an end.

The Second World War reinforced nationalist agitation for independence and freedom.

It was diffi cult to wage war in the name of self-determination and democracy, often with

the colonial countries as allies, without encouraging the idea of freedom

among subject peoples. The Japanese conquests in Asia had also under-

mined the image of European invincibility. After the war the Europeans,

economically exhausted, learned that they could rule their empires only at

prohibitive military cost and in embarrassing contradiction to their recent

war against the racist regime in Nazi Germany and their own professed ideals of demo-

cratic self-government.

In some instances the colonial powers, bowing to agitation for independence, liqui-

dated their colonial holdings without armed struggle, as in the British withdrawal from the

Indian subcontinent in 1947. Elsewhere the European powers withdrew only after pro-

tracted bloody wars, as in the case of the Dutch in Indonesia, the French in Indochina and

Contradictions

of empire

109. The Emergence

of Independent Nations

in South Asia and

Southeast Asia

110. The African Revolution

111. Europe and the Modern

Middle East

Chapter Emblem: Independence parade in Kuala Lumpur in 1957. (Keystone/Hulton Archive/Getty Images)

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Chapter 23 Decolonization and the Breakup of the European Empires926

Algeria, the British in Malaysia, and the Portuguese in Angola and Mozam-

bique. The United States also played a part in the transformation of colo-

nialism. It gave independence to the Philippines, granted Puerto Rico

commonwealth status, and took in Alaska and Hawaii as equal members

of the federal union, but it also waged a long, unsuccessful war in the 1960s against a

communist-nationalist movement in Vietnam that had earlier driven out the French. The

last prominent vestiges of the European empires in Asia ended when Britain surrendered

Hong Kong to China in 1997 and Portugal transferred Macao to China in 1999.

The Europeans also withdrew from Africa and from the various post-1919 “mandates”

that they had received from the League of Nations after the breakup of the Ottoman Empire

in the Middle East. By the mid-twentieth century, nationalist movements had emerged

throughout this region, challenging the weakened European powers and demanding the

establishment of new African and Arab states as well as the creation of an independent

Israel. European governments lacked the political will and the resources to maintain impe-

rial rule in their African colonies and Middle Eastern mandates, but the transitions in this

region—as in parts of Asia—were often delayed by widespread violence and local wars.

The French resisted the nationalist upsurge in Algeria, the British suppressed antico-

lonial militants in Kenya, and the Portuguese fought to keep their colonies in Angola and

Mozambique, but the independence movements would ultimately manage

to free every African country from European control. Meanwhile, the Arab

countries that emerged from the European mandates and colonial systems

in North Africa and the Middle East entered into a prolonged confl ict with

the new Jewish state of Israel, which was established in 1948 after the

British withdrew from the mandate they had exercised over Palestine. The creation of

Israel represented the triumphant fulfi llment of a Zionist movement that had grown steadily

in Europe since the late nineteenth century and gained new support after the genocidal

Nazi Holocaust, but it also brought about the displacement of a large Palestinian Arab

population and a series of regional wars that would repeatedly involve the governments

and peoples of Europe. The legacy of Europe’s entanglement in the Middle East and the

former Ottoman Empire would therefore remain an important component of European

international affairs long after the earlier mandates and colonies had dissolved into inde-

pendent states and national economies.

The breakup of the European empires in the second half of the twentieth century

thus led to the largest liberation of colonial peoples and transfer of political power in all

of human history. This era could, in fact, be called “The Age of the Asian and African

Revolutions.” Extending and revising the ideas of the earlier “Age of the Atlantic Revolu-

tions,” the twentieth-century upheavals destroyed previously existing colonial systems,

overthrew “old regime” governments, and claimed everywhere to represent the “national

sovereignty” of oppressed peoples. The processes of decolonization even-

tually contributed to the emergence of over 100 new nations—a political

upheaval that must count among the most far-reaching consequences of the

two world wars, and especially of the second. Many of the new nations

were political entities rather than coherent national communities with shared cultures,

languages and traditions, but they were now sovereign territorial states, internationally

recognized and with seats in the United Nations.

Although the new nations broke free from European political control, Europe’s

colonial infl uence lingered in many of the postcolonial states, partly because older

colonial borders were mostly retained as new national boundaries and partly because

Revolutionary wars

in Asia and Africa

Africa and the

Middle East

New nations

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927109. The Emergence of Independent Nations in South Asia and Southeast Asia

European colonial languages were often used as cultural tools for building national unity in

multilingual societies. More generally, however, many people in the former colonies main-

tained long-established connections with European institutions and schools, migrated to

join family members in Europe, or continued to sell goods and commodities to European

consumers. The end of colonialism, in short, opened a new phase of European exchanges

with the non-European world, but it by no means ended the many economic and cultural

interactions that had deeply infl uenced European societies during every era of modern

global history. This chapter focuses on the diverse history of the most signifi cant antico-

lonial movements and transitions to independent statehood between the late 1940s and

1970s, by which time the European control of colonized territories and peoples had almost

completely disappeared.

109. THE EMERGENCE OF INDEPENDENT NATIONS IN SOUTH ASIA AND SOUTHEAST ASIA

The End of British Rule in India and Pakistan

The end in 1947 of British rule in India, the largest and most populous of all colonial areas

ruled by Europeans, was epoch-making. Unfortunately, it fueled an explosion of ethnic

and religious confl icts on the Indian subcontinent. The Indian National Congress, founded

in 1885, had developed strength in the interwar years under the leadership of Gandhi

and Nehru. The Congress Party leaders demanded independence but also wished to avoid

social revolution in the complex multiethnic country. Along with the British-trained

Indian civil service, they considered themselves well prepared to govern an independent

state. But the Muslim League, founded in 1906, claimed to speak, under Muhammad Ali

Jinnah’s leadership, for millions of Muslims unwilling to live in an India dominated by

the Hindus and the Congress Party. The Muslims insisted on their own national state,

The British departure from India in 1947 may have been the most momentous transition from European colonialism to national independence in all of Asia. The presentation of the new Indian fl ag at this Home Guard ceremony in Mumbai was one of countless symbolic affi rmations that a new era had begun. New problems soon emerged, but Britain was relinquish- ing its long-held imperial power to intervene in other societies and to control the governments of other peoples. (Keystone/Getty Images)

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Chapter 23 Decolonization and the Breakup of the European Empires928

rooted in Islam. The Congress leaders, in contrast, pressed for a unifi ed, secular India,

with religion separated from politics and with freedom of worship for all religions. British

colonial administrators sought to maintain political peace by negotiating with both the

Muslim League and the Congress Party, but there was clearly no way for the British to

satisfy both factions.

During the Second World War India supported the British, but at the same time the

Congress Party and the Muslim League stepped up a “quit India” campaign. To retain

Indian support for the war effort and to counter Japanese anti-Western propaganda, the

British pledged independence. At the war’s end, the British under Labour Party leader-

ship were poised to honor their pledge, but the Congress Party and the Muslim League

continued to have irreconcilable differences as plans were developed for an

independent Indian state. To end the impasse the British decided on parti-

tion. In 1947 Britain granted independence to two nations: to India, predom-

inantly Hindu, with a population of 350 million at the time, which became

the Republic of India; and to Pakistan, mainly Muslim, with a population of 75 million,

which became the Islamic Republic of Pakistan. Large Muslim populations were concen-

trated in two widely separated regions of Britain’s former Indian Empire, and Pakistan was

established as a state with two disconnected parts, West and East Pakistan, separated by a

thousand miles of Indian territory. About 60 million Muslims were also left in India, which

helped keep India the multireligious secular state that Gandhi and Nehru desired. Ceylon

(later renamed Sri Lanka) and Burma (later called Myanmar) in South Asia also received

independence from Britain at this time.

The partition, overly hasty and ill-conceived, led immediately to violence and a vast

social upheaval. Independence in August 1947 brought with it terrible communal riots

between the Hindu and Muslim communities costing at least a million lives in a matter of

weeks; some 17 million Hindus and Muslims were caught up in mass expulsions and tur-

bulent migrations. In the worst of the tragedies, in the northern province of Punjab, Hindu

and Sikh religious zealots ambushed and slaughtered trainloads of Muslim refugees fl eeing

west to Pakistan, and Muslim fanatics did the same to Hindus and Sikhs migrating east to

India. Gandhi, while praying for civil peace, was himself assassinated in 1948 by a Hindu

extremist protesting his program for religious toleration. Only after the uglier features of

the communal warfare subsided could the tasks of governing begin.

Jawaharlal Nehru, the British-educated leader of the Congress Party and a close associ-

ate of Gandhi, became the leader of the new Indian government, serving as prime minister

from 1947 until his death in 1964. Nehru set the country on the path of British-style parlia-

mentary democracy and even a kind of Fabian socialism. With no effective

opposition, Nehru’s program was more paternalistic than democratic. The

masses looked to him to resolve the country’s enormous problems of pov-

erty; rapidly growing population; and ethnic, religious, and linguistic diver-

sity. In addition to Hindi and English, 16 other languages received offi cial recognition. In

economic matters Nehru, a moderate socialist who had studied law and economic theory in

Britain, understood the need for private capitalist enterprise; but he believed that economic

planning, government controls, and the nationalization of key industries were also neces-

sary. Under his leadership a modern industrial India with a mixed economy began to take

shape and in many ways grew impressively in the years that followed.

Meanwhile, the British-designed partition of South Asian territories and populations

did not solve the problems of Hindu-Muslim relations. India and Pakistan fell into a recur-

ring pattern of confl ict, centered in part on the former princely state of Kashmir (offi cially,

Partition of India

Nehru’s paternalism

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929

Jammu and Kashmir) in the Himalayas. Although three-fourths of the population were

Muslim, the Hindu maharajah after procrastinating opted to take Kashmir into India. Open

fi ghting over the issue of Kashmir broke out between India and Pakistan in 1948, and

tense relations and intermittent confl icts have continued ever since. War again broke out

over Kashmir in 1965–1966, ending in an uneasy truce. In 1971 India went to war with

Pakistan, but this time to support Bangladesh in its bloody war of secession from Pakistan.

Although the British could not be blamed for all of the enduring confl icts between India

and Pakistan, the continuing tensions between these two nations showed how the borders

and politics of the postcolonial states were still affected by British colonial policies for

many decades after the imperial system was dissolved.

Pakistan’s independence leader Muhammad Ali Jinnah was, like Nehru, a British-

educated lawyer. He was by no means an Islamic extremist and might have made a signifi -

cant difference in the country’s history, but he died shortly after independence, and his

successor was assassinated. Despite the machinery of British-style parliamentary democ-

racy, the Islamic Republic of Pakistan soon succumbed to military rule and over the years

oscillated between periods of military rule, restoration of constitutional government,

which generally meant civilian misrule, and the return of military dictatorship. By the end

of the century military dictators had run the country for half of its years of independence.

The awkward postcolonial arrangement for uniting the widely sepa-

rated Muslim populations of South Asia in a single nation collapsed in vio-

lence. In East Pakistan, which had been carved out of the old Indian state

of Bengal during the hasty British partition in 1947, most of the popula-

tion lived in congested, impoverished conditions that fueled political and

social resentments against the West Pakistani leaders who dominated the government of

Pakistan. These resentments exploded into a war of secession in 1971, when East Pakistan

proclaimed its independence and with the help of Indian military forces established the

new state of Bangladesh (or “Bengali nation”). The postcolonial, two-state political settle-

ment was thus permanently altered, and yet Britain’s earlier colonial infl uence on South

Asian politics, cultures, and economic life never completely disappeared. There was also a

continuing migration of South Asians into the cities of modern Britain, so that by the early

twenty-fi rst century more than 2 million people of Indian, Pakistani, or Bangladeshi origin

were living around London or in the English midlands. This growing South Asian popula-

tion played an increasingly prominent role in Britain’s commerce and culture, bringing

new global trade as well as diverse religions, foods, music, and transnational communities

into British society.

The British Withdrawal from Burma (Myanmar), Malaysia, and Singapore

Burma, India’s neighbor to the east, embarked on a unique path of isolation and repression

after it gained independence in 1948. Britain had annexed the country to its Indian Empire

in 1885; and gradually, over the next half century, the British built a railway network,

developed the country’s mining and forest resources, and encouraged rice cultivation.

Burma became for a time the world’s largest exporter of rice. In the interwar years the

British encouraged limited self-government but also imprisoned nationalist leaders such

as Aung San, who pressed for immediate independence. After the Japanese invasion of

Burma in the Second World War the nationalist leaders took up arms

against the Japanese but also took advantage of the Japanese conquest to

advance Burma’s independence from Britain.

Bengali secession

and war

Burmese independence

109. The Emergence of Independent Nations in South Asia and Southeast Asia

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Chapter 23 Decolonization and the Breakup of the European Empires930

After the war the British recognized Burma’s independence, but Aung San, who was

to become prime minister, was assassinated and his associate, U Nu, a devout Buddhist

and somewhat doctrinaire socialist, became the fi rst prime minister. To the new leaders of

the nation anti-imperialism meant anticapitalism and the new government was determined

to socialize the country rapidly. In contrast with the pattern in many former British colo-

nies, almost all connections with European commerce and culture were severed. There was

little money, however, so it was diffi cult to import machinery and to train workers; “the

Burmese path to socialism,” as it was styled, became impossible. In addition to economic

chaos, Burma faced armed rebellion from insurgent separatist minorities, many of them

reinforced after 1949 by the new Communist regime in China. Ethnic minorities made up

about one-third of the country’s population. Many of these minorities were incensed by

Nu’s plan to make Buddhism the offi cial state religion.

The British partition of its South Asian colonial empire into mostly Muslim Pakistan and pre- ponderantly Hindu India led to chaotic mass migrations and expulsions as people fl ed across the new borders in all directions. These trains in Amritsar, India, were swamped with Indian refugees who were trying to move to other Indian cities after fl eeing from West Pakistan in October 1947. (Bettmann/Corbis)

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931

THE INDIAN SUBCONTINENT, 2000 The map shows nations that emerged from the dissolution of the British Empire in South Asia. East Pakistan was part of Pakistan until its war of secession in 1971 led to the establishment of an independent Bangladesh; Pakistan and Bangladesh are predominantly Muslim. India is predominantly Hindu, but large Muslim and Sikh minorities live there. The political ascen- dancy of a Hindu nationalist party in the 1990s altered India’s pluralistic political culture and also changed the names of cities that were known during and after the British colonial era as Bombay, Calcutta, and Madras (Mumbai, Kolkata, and Chennai). Political movements have changed other colonial-era names in the region, including the name of the country now called Myanmar, which was known as Burma throughout the era of British control and early independence. The island called Ceylon in the time of the British Empire is now Sri Lanka. The dispute between India and Pakistan over the status of Jammu and Kashmir has remained unresolved. Confl icts in this disputed territory, intensifi ed by the development of nuclear weapons in India and Pakistan, as well as international wars in Afghanistan and continuing internal confl icts in Sri Lanka and Myanmar, made South Asia one of the world’s politically volatile regions in the early twenty-fi rst century.

0 500 miles

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ARABIAN SEA

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I N D I A

BHUTAN NEPAL

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C H I N A

PAKISTAN T I B E T

SRI LANKA

JAMMU and KASHMIR

TAJIKISTAN

KYRGYZSTAN

TURKMENISTAN

UZBEKISTAN

MALDIVES

BANGLADESH

New Delhi

Kolkata (Calcutta)

Yangon (Rangoon)

Mumbai (Bombay)

Hyderabad

Karachi

Pondicherry

Chennai (Madras)

Islamabad

Colombo

Lahore

Kanpur

Dhaka

Bangalore

Ahmadabad

Despite the offi cial political framework of a multiparty parliamentary democracy, the

military exercised a parallel power with the civilian authorities. As the ethnic insurgen-

cies became more threatening in 1962, the army head General Ne Win staged a military

takeover. He would retain power for the next 26 years in a one-party state still dedicated to

pursuing the “Burmese path to socialism,” but in effect a military regime that carried the

country into deeper isolation. Seeking to affi rm its complete break from the earlier colonial

era, the government later changed the nation’s name to Myanmar. Movements for demo-

cratic reform were stifl ed; and few countries of the former British Empire moved away

from Britain as quickly or decisively as Burma.

Meanwhile, a different movement toward nationhood developed in Malaysia. In the

Malayan Peninsula British plans for independence after the Second World War were

109. The Emergence of Independent Nations in South Asia and Southeast Asia

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Chapter 23 Decolonization and the Breakup of the European Empires932

This image of an elegantly attired Brit- ish High Commissioner waving farewell from his airplane as British rule ended in Malaya became an often-repeated, post-1945 scene in all parts of Asia and Africa. Europeans left colonies that they had dominated for many decades or even centuries, giving way everywhere to new national political movements that both rejected and borrowed from the imperial systems that they replaced. This independence parade in Kuala Lumpur, which took place on the day after the High Commissioner’s exit in September 1957, exemplifi es the cultural hybridity that often emerged among the new member nations of the expanding British Commonwealth. (Central Press/Getty Images, Keystone/Hulton

Archive/Getty Images)

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933

delayed because of tensions between the country’s Muslim Malay majority and its sizable

Chinese and Indian minorities. These large minority populations had lived in Malaysia

since the nineteenth century when the British had imported workers from

China and India to work in the tin and rubber mines. The Chinese had come

to play a dominant role in the economy. At the same time a militant Com-

munist movement had emerged, and the British for several years fought a

Communist insurgency. In 1957, with the rebellion mostly subdued, Britain

granted independence. Five years later Malaya joined with Singapore and other former

British dependencies to create the Federation of Malaysia.

Singapore withdrew in 1965 to become a small island-nation with a fl ourishing mod-

ern economy and high living standards but governed by a semi-authoritarian, paternalistic

regime under Lee Kuan Yew. Singapore thus resembled other East Asian countries that

made rapid economic advances without establishing full-fl edged democracies. British cul-

ture remained infl uential in Singapore, however, and English became the

offi cial language—a cultural strategy that unifi ed diverse ethnic groups and

effectively linked Singapore to the global economy. There was no absolute

repression, but no genuine democracy either. Singapore nevertheless dif-

fered from Burma and other inward-looking countries by embracing international eco-

nomic institutions and maintaining strong connections with British culture.

The transitions out of the British Empire thus took different forms, but the British sur-

rendered almost all of their vast Asian Empire within a decade or so after the end of the

Second World War. However, most of the former British colonies in Asia (as well as in

Africa, the Caribbean, and the Pacifi c) agreed to retain a voluntary association with Britain

and each other in a new Commonwealth of Nations. Both Malaysia and Singapore, for

example, became members of this Commonwealth, which grew into an association of over

50 independent nations. The Commonwealth did not force its members to act in concert

on international issues, but it helped to promote useful interchange between the diverse

peoples who had once lived within Britain’s far-fl ung empire.

The Dutch Withdrawal from Indonesia

Another major European empire in Southeast Asia, the Dutch East Indies, also came to an

end. Agitation for independence, as in India, went back to pre-1914 days, but the Indone-

sian Nationalist Party, founded in 1927, and a growing Communist Party had met with

little success in the interwar years. The Japanese, as elsewhere in Asia, exploited anti-

Western sentiment during the Second World War and found Indonesian nationalist leaders

to use as collaborators in their military occupation. At the same time a broad resistance

movement emerged in which the Communists played a major part. Once the Japanese

were ousted at the war’s end in August 1945, before the Dutch could return, the Indonesian

Nationalist leader Sukarno (Indonesians often use only their family name in public life)

proclaimed the country’s independence. For four years the Dutch stubbornly fought the

nationalist movement, but they fi nally ceded independence in 1949.

Sukarno began with a parliamentary constitutional program and a democratic ideol-

ogy derived from the struggle against the Dutch, but the democratic phase did not last. In

1959 he dissolved the Constituent Assembly and governed in the follow-

ing years under a populist dictatorship that he called “guided democracy”;

before long he insisted upon being elected “president for life,” and he

sought to play a prominent, independent role in Cold War diplomacy.

Malaysian

independence

Singapore

Sukarno’s “guided

democracy”

109. The Emergence of Independent Nations in South Asia and Southeast Asia

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Chapter 23 Decolonization and the Breakup of the European Empires934

Sukarno became one of the chief spokesmen for the postcolonial and developing

nations of Asia and Africa. He hosted the meeting in Bandung in 1955 at which leaders of

29 of the new nations celebrated their new sovereignty, condemned Western imperialist

and capitalist exploitation, and pledged neutralism and nonalignment in the Cold War.

Sukarno cultivated friendship with the Soviet Union and Communist China and loosened

earlier economic ties with Europe. Meanwhile the Indonesian Communist Party, backed

by the People’s Republic of China, had quietly grown into the third largest Communist

Party in the world with some 2 million members.

For a time Sukarno managed to work with and control the large Communist Party, but

in 1965 leftist army offi cers attempted a coup. A relatively unknown army leader, General

Suharto, quickly moved to suppress what was alleged to be a Communist

rebellion, but he also ousted Sukarno. Suharto ruled Indonesia for the next 32

years, continuing the economic and cultural transitions from Dutch colonial-

ism that had begun under Sukarno. The Suharto regime, which began with

the brutal repression of the Communists, maintained power through a central-

ized, authoritarian political system. Yet Suharto (like a number of other undemocratic leaders

in postcolonial nations) was steadfastly supported by Western governments during the Cold

War as a bulwark against the Asian infl uence of Communist China and as an alternative to

the kind of postcolonial movement that had emerged from the French Empire in Indochina.

The Independence Movement in Indochina

The French colonial empire also fell apart, not, however, without a long struggle. The fi rst

of France’s postwar colonial wars was fought over Indochina. When France offered auton-

omy to the states of Indochina at the end of the Second World War within a French federa-

tion, Cambodia and Laos accepted; but Vietnam (as Cochin-China, Tonkin, and Annam

jointly came to be called) demanded full independence. Open warfare broke out against

the French in 1946, and French armies and Communist-led Vietnamese forces fought each

other for more than seven years.

Suharto’s war on the

Communists

Indonesian President Sukarno emerged from the indepen- dence movement against the Dutch Empire to become a leader of the world’s new and developing nations during the era of decolonization. He is shown here in 1955, address- ing the international meeting at Bandung, where represen- tatives of nonaligned nations affi rmed their independence, pledged to remain neutral in the Cold War, and con- demned the legacies of Western imperialism. (Lisa Larsen/Time Life Pictures/

Getty Images)

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935

The Communist leader Ho Chi Minh, who headed the independence movement in

Vietnam, had spent earlier years in London and in Paris (where, as noted earlier, he had fi rst

called for the “self-determination” of Indochina during the Versailles peace conference and

witnessed the founding of the French Communist Party in 1920). He later lived in Moscow

and in China. He returned to Vietnam in 1941, organized a Vietnamese independence

movement (the Viet Minh), and mobilized guerrilla armies to fi ght the Japanese. At the

war’s end he proclaimed Vietnam’s independence. The French tried to reassert control by

using an ineffectual former emperor of Annam as a puppet. When negotiations failed, Ho

turned his armies against the French. Because the Communists led the inde-

pendence movement, the French could claim that they were fi ghting to stem

the tide of world communism, not to preserve nineteenth-century colonial

privileges. Yet communism here, as often in Asia, was linked to nationalism,

anticolonialism, anti-Westernism, and genuine popular discontent.

Communism and

imperialism

The French defeat at Dien Bien Phu in 1954 effectively ended the era of European colonialism in Indochina. Vietnamese soldiers led these captured French troops toward a prison camp in the last days of a war that showed the limits of European power and overturned the social- political hierarchies of France’s collapsing Asian Empire. (AFP/Getty Images)

109. The Emergence of Independent Nations in South Asia and Southeast Asia

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Chapter 23 Decolonization and the Breakup of the European Empires936

Under President Eisenhower the United States, anticolonial but ready to champion

anti-Communist causes in the Cold War, aided the French fi nancially but refrained from

open military intervention. The war drained French morale and resources. In the spring of

1954 at the very time that an international conference was meeting in Geneva to arrange a

settlement in Indochina, the French army after a long, costly siege suffered a severe defeat

at the battle of Dien Bien Phu. The conference, with French acquiescence, recognized

the independence of Vietnam, as well as of Cambodia and Laos. The colonial empire in

French Indochina came to an end.

Vietnam was provisionally partitioned at the 17th parallel into a northern and south-

ern sector until elections could be held for the entire country, but the elections never took

place. Neither Ho nor the Western-backed regime in the south was satisfi ed with the settle-

ment of 1954, and a civil war of increasing intensity soon began. The United States, taking

up the struggle that France had abandoned, became deeply involved in the war by the early

1960s. The American government saw the war in Vietnam as part of a global Communist

challenge that had to be contained, so that a confl ict that began in the anticolonial upheavals

of the late 1940s became one of the most protracted and costly confl icts of the Cold War

era. Meanwhile, France’s entire colonial empire in Indochina—like the British and Dutch

empires in the same region—had given way to new national states. Such transitions rede-

fi ned Europe’s interactions with Asian peoples and societies, but the collapse of empires

also transformed national identities within those European countries (such as France)

that had long viewed their colonial systems as tangible and symbolic expressions of their

national power and infl uence in global affairs.

110. THE AFRICAN REVOLUTION

Africa is a large continent, considerably larger than North and Central America combined.

Its estimated population grew from 220 million in 1950 to more than 1 billion in the early

twenty-fi rst century, so that it has had one of the fastest-growing populations in the modern

world. A distinction may be made between North Africa and sub-Saharan

Africa. North Africa, stretching from Mauritania and Morocco to Egypt,

mostly Muslim and Arab, belongs as much to the Mediterranean world (and

even more to the Islamic Middle East) in ethnic composition, culture, geog-

raphy, and history. The history of northern Africa has always included com-

mercial, cultural, and population exchanges with southern Europe. In sub-Saharan Africa, to

the south, the population is predominantly black, and in addition to large Islamic communi-

ties, there are many people who adhere to traditional African animist faiths or to Christian-

ity. An ethnographic and linguistic map of Africa would reveal hundreds of different ethnic

groups and some 800 African languages, of which about 50 are spoken by a half million

people or more. A large number of Africans since the colonial era also speak English or

French, and there are also numerous descendants of European and South Asian settlers and

immigrants, most notably in South Africa. Europe’s involvement with sub-Saharan Africa,

which fi rst developed with the early modern trade in gold, ivory, and enslaved people, was

most pervasive during the era of modern European imperialism, but European infl uences

and exchanges remained signifi cant in many of the region’s postcolonial societies.

In 1945 the map of Africa was scarcely different from what it had been in 1914. All

of Africa was European-governed with the exceptions of Egypt, Liberia, and Ethiopia (the

latter had regained its independence from Italy during the Second World War). By the

early 1960s, however, there were 35 independent states, and most of Africa was either

North and sub-

Saharan Africa

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937110. The African Revolution

independent or close to achieving independence. By the early twenty-fi rst

century there were 53 independent African states, making up more than a

fourth of the membership of the UN. Of the 53 states, all but fi ve were in

sub-Saharan Africa.

The new states differed from older nations in many ways. Africa’s territorial boundar-

ies, as we have seen, were drawn hastily during the era of European imperial expansion in

the late nineteenth century, and the new states often contained highly diverse ethnic and

linguistic groups. These groups usually lacked the “national” affi nities that are associated

with the concept of a modern, imagined “nation-state,” while ethnically related peoples

were frequently distributed over two or more countries. The age of European imperialism

also left the African states economically underdeveloped, dependent on world markets,

and with little experience in self-governing institutions; the very rapidity of the transi-

tion to independence added to their diffi culties. Ethnic or civil wars and regional confl icts

marked much of Africa’s fi rst half-century of independence. The following survey of anti-

colonial movements and the emergence of postcolonial African states can only sketch the

broad outlines of decolonization, which sometimes led to wars with European colonial

powers and always led to complex political, economic, and cultural transitions.

French North Africa and the War in Algeria

During the Second World War the Allied leaders had made various commitments to self-

determination. With Italy defeated (and Ethiopia liberated), the wartime Allies in 1951

granted independence also to the former Italian colony of Libya, and the British took steps

to end what was left of their privileged position in Egypt. These events galvanized French

North Africa, where Arab nationalist leaders, often French-educated, had pressed for

independence since the 1920s. In Morocco, Tunisia, and Algeria—the Maghreb, as these

Arab states of northwest Africa are called—the nationalists mounted a vigorous campaign.

Morocco and Tunisia were not outright colonies but French protectorates under their tra-

ditional rulers, the Moroccan sultan and the Tunisian bey. The French in 1956 granted

independence to both countries. The Moroccan sultan became king as a constitutional

monarch, but as the years went by, the monarchy increasingly enlarged its powers. Tuni-

sia became a republic and was governed for its fi rst 30 years by Habib Bourguiba, who

introduced many democratic reforms (including rights of divorce for women) but insisted

on being named president for life. In both countries the push for political, economic, and

cultural liberalization continued long after independence, often against counterpressures

from Muslim traditionalists.

Algeria’s story was very different. In the early nineteenth century the French had

invaded and occupied Algeria, which was part of the weakening Ottoman Empire. After

several brutal military campaigns Algeria became a fully controlled French colony. Later

in the nineteenth century French and other Europeans settled there in substantial numbers,

creating large immigrant communities that came to dominate the political and economic

life of the country and its Arab population. The French meanwhile provided a few limited

measures for Algerian self-rule and representation along with a promise that further con-

cessions could be made when the country became fully assimilated to French and Euro-

pean ways. Some additional political concessions were granted in the

interwar years, but after 1945 Algerian nationalists pressed for full indepen-

dence. Although Algeria was represented in the French legislature in Paris,

the suffrage in Algeria was heavily weighted in favor of the European

French colons in

Algeria

Independence

movements

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Chapter 23 Decolonization and the Breakup of the European Empires938

AFRICA AT THE END OF THE TWENTIETH CENTURY This map shows the emergence of independent African states (with dates of independent nationhood) and may be compared with earlier maps for precolonial Africa (p. 667) and for Africa in 1914 at the height of European imperialism (p. 670). The fi rst of the new sub-Saharan states was Ghana, which gained independence from Britain in 1957 and took its name from a medieval African kingdom that had been located further north. The more recently established states include Zimbabwe (1980) and Namibia (1990) in southern Africa and Eritrea (1993) in northeastern Africa. By the end of the twentieth century all of the European colonial empires had disappeared and the white-controlled apartheid regime in South Africa had given way to a nonracial, democratic political system.

0 500 1,000 miles

Dates Indicate Year of Independence

Mediterranean Sea

ATLANTIC OCEAN

INDIAN OCEAN

N ile

R .

N iger R.

Congo R.

Z a m

be zi R.

R ed

Sea

Suez Canal

GUINEA 1958

GAMBIA 1965

MOROCCO 1956

ALGERIA 1962 LIBYA

1951 EGYPT

1922

TUNISIA 1956

SUDAN 1956

CHAD 1960

DEMOCRATIC REPUBLIC OF

CONGO (formerly Belgian Congo & Zaire)

1960

NIGER 1960

MALI 1960

NIGERIA 1960

MAURITANIA 1960

GUINEA- BISSAU

1974 SIERRA LEONE

1961 LIBERIA

1847

CÔTE D'IVOIRE

1960

BURKINA FASO 1960

GHANA 1957

BENIN 1960

CAMEROON 1960

EQUATORIAL GUINEA 1968

CENTRAL AFRICAN REPUBLIC

1960

ETHIOPIA (Ancient)

DJIBOUTI 1977

KENYA 1963

UGANDA 1962

RWANDA 1962 BURUNDI 1962 TANZANIA

(Tanganyika & Zanzibar) 1964

GABON 1960

CONGO REPUBLIC

1960 (formerly

French Congo)

NAMIBIA 1990

ZAMBIA 1964

ZIMBABWE 1980

BOTSWANA (Bechuanaland)

1966

ANGOLA 1975

REPUBLIC OF SOUTH AFRICA

1931

MALAWI 1964

LESOTHO (Basutoland) 1966

SWAZILAND 1968

Western Sahara

(occupied by Morocco)

SOMALIA 1960

MADAGASCAR 1960

TOGO 1960

SENEGAL 1960

CABINDA (Angola)

M O

ZA M

BI Q

U E

19 75

COMOROS 1975

SEYCHELLES 1968

ERITREA 1993

Cape of Good Hope

CANARY IS. (Sp.)

Zanzibar I.

SÃO TOMÉ & PRÍNCIPE

Cape Town

Dakar

Tangier

Cairo

Aswan

settlers to the distinct disadvantage of the Arab majority. O f the 9 million or so inhabitants,

about 1 million were Europeans. Many of the colons, or European settlers, mostly French, like the family of the French writer Albert Camus, had lived there for generations. Because

the Europeans controlled the economy and owned most of the land and industry, they

feared for their political and economic privileges if Algeria were cut loose from France and

governed by an Arab Muslim majority that had long lived under conditions of unequal

treatment. The French military suppressed initial postwar uprisings, but the nationalist

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939

movement grew, and in the autumn of 1954 the National Liberation Front (FLN) launched

a fi erce guerrilla war against the French.

The French-Algerian war lasted 7½ years, involving at its peak 500,000

French troops and provoking sharp political divisions within France itself.

There were numerous demonstrations and protests, some of which led to

violence in French cities. At one such demonstration in Paris, in 1961, the

police attacked a large crowd, killing dozens of protestors in what later came to be called

the Paris “massacre.” Meanwhile, the Algerian armed forces received aid and support from

Egypt and other Arab states. Torture and cruelty became common on both sides. In the

spring of 1958, during a French cabinet crisis in which the Europeans in Algeria feared

that a negotiated settlement might be arranged, an insurrection by army leaders and

diehard European settlers in Algiers brought political changes in Paris and General Charles

de Gaulle’s return to power. To the dismay of the army leaders, however, de Gaulle unex-

pectedly arranged a cease-fi re and soon spoke of autonomy and self-determination for the

Algerians. In 1962, in a referendum, he won the backing of the French electorate for full

independence. Army leaders thereupon rebelled, and some of his closest former associates

helped form a secret army of terrorists who bombed and killed, and even attempted his

assassination. Nevertheless, de Gaulle pressed on with negotiations for Algerian indepen-

dence, and in 1962 French rule ended. The long and brutal war had cost the lives of 10,000

French and 100,000 Algerian combatants as well as many thousands of Algerian

civilians.

After independence there was a mass exodus of Europeans from Algeria. Some of

the immigrants (who were known as Pieds-Noirs in France) remained bitter critics of de Gaulle’s Algerian policies, but most people in France and Algeria were grateful that de

Gaulle had negotiated an end to the ordeal and withdrawn the French army.

The French accepted the loss of Algeria and other parts of their empire

in West Africa, recognizing that a large overseas colonial system was no

longer in France’s economic interests or essential for the nation’s infl u-

ence in Europe and the wider world. With a prospering economy in the later 1960s, the

French turned their attention to other matters. Although staunchly anti-Western, the new

Algerian government accepted French technical assistance for the development of the

country’s extensive oil and natural gas resources. The FLN, for its part, retained power and

governed under a military-dominated one-party regime for the next 30 years, gradually

producing political and economic resentments that would lead to future internal confl icts.

The long period of French control had ended, however, and Algeria could move on to a

new era of political and cultural independence. More generally, after 1962 the Algerian

revolutionary movement became a widely studied example of anticolonial campaigns, in

part because the French-educated writer Franz Fanon wrote about the war’s cultural and

psychological meaning for colonized persons in his infl uential book The Wretched of the Earth (1961)—a work that continued to attract international attention during the postcolo- nial era. Fanon was originally from the French island of Martinique, but he participated in

the Algerian Revolution and drew on his training as a psychiatrist to describe the corrosive

effects of violence in colonial societies and anticolonial warfare.

End of British Rule in West Africa: Ghana and Nigeria

In North Africa nationalist agitation for independence, already under way in the interwar

years, might have been expected, but south of the Sahara the movement for liberation was

less advanced before the Second World War. Here black African populations still lived in

The French-Algerian

War

Algerian independence

110. The African Revolution

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Chapter 23 Decolonization and the Breakup of the European Empires940

colonial empires that Europeans had carved out either in the colonial age that opened in the

fi fteenth century or in the “scramble for Africa” in the brief decade and a half of European

imperialist competition after 1885.

Yet independence movements, barely in existence before 1945, soon

announced their presence. The British fi rst resisted the mounting nationalist

pressures, imprisoning or exiling nationalist leaders, but then, recognizing

the strength of the liberation movements and the pressures of their own

postwar economic problems, they decided in the 1950s to change their

imperial policies. Britain thereafter moved quickly to grant autonomy to its colonies,

which soon became dominions and then independent republics.

The Gold Coast (soon renamed Ghana) was the fi rst British colony to win indepen-

dence, and its history both before and after independence exemplifi ed political and eco-

nomic patterns that would reappear in many of Britain’s African colonies. The British

initially resisted a militant civil disobedience movement led by the nationalist leader

Kwame Nkrumah and even imprisoned him. But in 1951 they freed Nkrumah and conceded

From colonies to

independent republics

The Algerian war for independence from France was one of the most bitter, protracted strug- gles for decolonization, in part because a large French population had lived in Algeria for several generations. France had about 500,000 soldiers in Algeria, including these troops in the city of Oran, but the French army could not defeat the Algerian FLN or regain control of the Algerian countryside. Algeria became an independent nation in 1962. (Keystone/Hulton Archive/Getty Images)

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941

Ghana was the fi rst African nation to gain independence from Great Britain during the 1950s. The president of the new nation, Kwame Nkrumah, appears in this picture, waving to supporters at a national cel- ebration in 1957. Nkrumah led the struggle for independence and became a key fi gure in the Pan-African movement, but his autocratic methods of gov- erning and his extravagances provoked a military coup that ousted him from power in 1966. (Bettmann/Corbis)

self-government. Nkrumah’s party o verwhelmingly won the elections that followed, and he

became prime minister. In 1957 the colony won full independence with dominion status,

and in 1960 Nkrumah transformed it into a republic with himself as presi-

dent. With independence, the country shed the name of Gold Coast, which

was too closely identifi ed with the centuries of imperialist exploitation and

the slave trade. It called itself Ghana, recalling an African kingdom some-

what to the north that had fl ourished from the sixth to the eleventh centuries. Nkrumah

quickly gathered extensive power into his own hands, banned opposition parties, governed

autocratically, and declared himself president for life. The early postcolonial history of

Ghana thus showed an antidemocratic political evolution that would reappear often in

Africa (and in Asia): charismatic nationalist leaders who led the struggles for independence

repeatedly turned into personal dictators once independence was won, and the party of the

independence movement often became the basis for one-party governments.

Nkrumah adopted an anti-Western stance, championed a nonalignment policy in the

Cold War, and sought a leading role in a pan-African movement, hosting in 1958 the fi rst

All-African People’s Congress in Ghana’s capital, Accra. He also cultivated close ties with

the Soviet Union and the People’s Republic of China. Nkrumah’s arbitrary rule, unbridled

Nkrumah’s Ghana

110. The African Revolution

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Chapter 23 Decolonization and the Breakup of the European Empires942

extravagances, and cult of personality provoked growing opposition, however, and military

leaders ousted him in 1966. There then followed a series of military coups until a more

democratic system of multiparty elections developed in the 1990s. Every phase of Ghana’s

postindependence history—especially the gradual evolution from authoritarian rule toward

more democratic government in the early twenty-fi rst century—resembled general trends

that could be seen in much of postcolonial Africa; and the democratization in Ghana would

ultimately become part of a wider African movement for political reform.

Similar political patterns developed in Nigeria, which was the largest British-governed

colonial territory and population in Africa (its population would exceed 150 million by the

early twenty-fi rst century). British-educated Nigerians, who had pressed for political rep-

resentation in the 1920s, stepped up pressure against the British colonial

system after the Second World War. Britain granted independence in 1960,

and in 1963 Nigeria became a republic with a constitution, political parties,

and guarantees of civil rights. The postcolonial political system soon broke

down, however, because of regional and ethnic tensions, a series of military coups, and a

secessionist movement that led to a devastating civil war in the late 1960s. Despite this

internal violence, the recurring coups, and the confl icts between religious and ethnic

groups, Nigeria—like Ghana—moved eventually toward a more stable democratic system

in the late 1990s, supported in part by a booming oil industry. The Nigerian social elites

also retained various links with British society, and postcolonial Nigeria was one of the

largest member states in the British Commonwealth of Nations.

End of British Rule in East Africa: Kenya and Uganda

In East Africa, especially in Kenya, the independence movements after 1945 encoun-

tered obstacles, but the struggles to establish new nations moved through the usual politi-

cal stages to achieve sovereign statehood. European settlers, who had arrived early in

the century in considerable numbers, dominated economic and political life. They had

dispossessed the Kikiyu and Maasai peoples to create large coffee and tea plantations on

the most desirable land. Many Indians had also arrived from South Asia as merchants

and traders. Africans, restricted to working as subsistence small farmers, agricultural

laborers, and unskilled workers in the cities, resented their second-class economic and

social status.

In the 1920s and 1930s young nationalist leaders, many of whom, like Jomo Kenyatta,

had studied in Britain, agitated for land reform and African representation in government.

After the Second World War a movement for independence led by Kenyatta and his party

gathered momentum. When the European settlers stubbornly resisted pressures for inde-

pendence, the Kenyan militants responded with violence and acts of terrorism. The settlers

retaliated, and as the violence mounted, the British declared a state of emergency and

imprisoned or removed from the troubled area many of the nationalist leaders. Eventually,

however, the British faced up to the inevitable movement toward decolonization. T hey

ended the state of emergency, released Kenyatta, and in 1963 granted

Kenya independence. Over 55,000 Europeans left the country. Kenya

became a republic in 1964 with Kenyatta as its fi rst president. Until his

death 14 years later he completely dominated political life, following the

all-too-familiar pattern of the independence leader’s turning dictator after

independence. Like other new African leaders he championed pan-Africanism and neutral-

ism in the Cold War.

Nigeria

Kenyatta and

Kenyan independence

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943

Uganda, which Winston C hurchill once described as the “pearl of

Africa” because of its natural beauty, won independence in 1962. It, too,

encompassed many ethnic groups, who had been brought together in a Brit-

ish protectorate during the 1890s. Uganda was the scene of much missionary activity. Both

Protestantism and Roman Catholicism made many early twentieth-century converts, so

that the population became two-thirds Christian. Some permanent European settlers estab-

lished large plantations, but the African farmers mostly cultivated small plots of cotton,

tea, and coffee. Meanwhile, following the kind of migration that the British often facili-

tated between various parts of their global empire, South Asians settled in Uganda to play

a leading role as merchants. In 1921 Britain established a legislative council, but the fi rst

African members were admitted only in 1945, and not until several years later did they

receive a substantial number of seats. Pressure for independence continued to develop

until the British offi cially withdrew in the early 1960s. A new constitution, approved in

1963, transformed the Ugandan state into a republic, which fell almost immediately into

the hands of dictatorial leaders, including (after 1971) the notorious Idi Amin. Centralizing

all power under his own control, Amin brutalized the country for eight years with

Uganda

Uganda’s postcolonial dictator Idi Amin expelled thousands of Asians who had played a key role in the country’s colonial economy. The refugees pictured here left Uganda in 1972 and were among the fi rst to arrive in London, where they joined a multicultural population that brought new cultural perspectives and practices into late twentieth-century British society. (George W. Hales/Fox Photos/Getty Images)

110. The African Revolution

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Chapter 23 Decolonization and the Breakup of the European Empires944

repressive policies that shocked both the recently departed British and all of Africa. As

many as 300,000 Ugandans may have lost their lives in executions and massacres. A once

prosperous agricultural economy with thriving coffee, tea, and cotton exports lay in ruins.

Professionals and intellectuals fl ed the country; and in 1972 Amin expelled some 60,000

Asians, mostly the Indian community, which had been a strong presence in the country’s

commerce. These exiles scattered in all directions, forming a new South Asian immigra-

tion into Britain and joining the far-fl ung Indian diaspora of the 1970s.

Amin was fi nally overthrown in 1979 with the help of outside forces from Tanzania,

but the history of his Ugandan regime had shown how the transitions to postcolonial

independence could carry former British colonies into authoritarian quag-

mires, some of which lasted for decades. The British people and govern-

ment had reached a general consensus, by the 1960s, that their vast empire

must be dissolved. Yet the messy confl icts of decolonization in both west-

ern and eastern Africa showed (as in Asia) that the British imperial system

had never fully established the public institutions, economic opportunities, mass educa-

tion, and political values that would be needed to sustain stable democratic states in the

postcolonial era.

The French Sub-Saharan Empire

The French, largely as a consequence of the bloody war in Algeria, dissolved the remainder

of their vast colonial empire in sub-Saharan Africa peacefully. After the Second World War

they had hoped that a French-educated and assimilated African elite would maintain ties to

France in a loosely organized French Union. They gave the African colonies representation

in the French National Assembly and promised self-governing institutions, but control

remained centralized in Paris, and by the mid-1950s the African colonies, inspired by

nationalist movements elsewhere, pressed for independence. De Gaulle recognized the

inexorable pressure for independence and offered the sub-Saharan colonies their freedom of

choice. By 1960 all 15 colonies had chosen independence, though these new nations—like

the former British colonies—were often slow to develop democratic political institutions.

Many of the African countries that emerged from the French Empire

retained close ties with France for economic aid and cultural cooperation.

France remained a strong presence among the African francophone nations

(and indeed the strongest presence of all the European countries on the

African continent), training the armies of the new states, lending fi nancial

assistance, and taking a leading role in economic development. 1 On numerous occasions

after 1960 the French intervened in Africa with military force. In 1979, for example, they

helped overthrow a brutal dictator who had seized power in the Central African Republic

in 1966 and for 13 years ruled as head of a self-proclaimed Central African Empire; and

they later sent troops to intervene in other confl icts in places such as Chad and Ivory Coast.

Problems of

decolonization

French aid and

cooperation

1 The francophone, or French-speaking, sub-Saharan African states emerging from the French colonial empire

in 1960 were Benin (until 1975 called Dahomey), Cameroon, Central African Republic, Chad, Republic of

Congo (Brazzaville), Gabon, Guinea, Ivory Coast, Madagascar (or Malagasy Republic), Mali, Mauritania,

Niger, Senegal, Togo, and Burkina Faso (until 1984 called Upper Volta). Comoros became independent in 1975;

Djibouti, in 1977. Morocco, Algeria, and Tunisia, in North Africa, are also part of francophone Africa as former

French protectorates. The former Belgian colonial territories must also be included: the Democratic Republic of

Congo (once the Belgian Congo, and from 1971 to 1997 called Zaire), and Burundi and Rwanda (once Belgian

trusteeships).

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945

France thus continued to see itself as a key international power in African affairs. The

French organized the African Financial Community, which helped stabilize African cur-

rencies in the postcolonial era, and became the largest donor of aid to the continent. While

some African leaders criticized such actions as neocolonialism, others viewed the French

presence more as a partnership than an intrusion. As elsewhere in Africa, the promise of

democratic government in the former French colonies turned for the most part into civilian

or military dictatorships, even if the degree of repression varied. Here too the indepen-

dence party often became the sole legally recognized political party. Presidents concen-

trated power in their own hands, often holding offi ce for 20 years or more. Meanwhile, the

economic and political problems in France’s former colonies contributed to a continuing

migration of people from West Africa to France, where the immigrants became increas-

ingly prominent in the social and cultural life of French cities.

Independence Movements in the Belgian Congo and Portugal’s African Colonies

European decolonization also took place in the African territories of Belgium and

Portugal. Both of these smaller European countries had sustained a certain international

status by holding large colonies in Africa, and infl uential groups in each nation had long-

standing interests in the colonial economies. The demise of the Belgian and Portuguese

colonies thus became a fi nal sign of the disintegrating European imperialism in Africa.

The Belgian Congo was a byword for European imperialist exploitation and cruelty

in the late nineteenth century. The most abusive features were remedied before 1914, but

political control remained concentrated in Brussels and little was done to prepare the large

colony (it was 80 times the size of Belgium) for self-government. Agitation for indepen-

dence intensifi ed when the neighboring French Congo, its capital at Brazzaville, won inde-

pendence in 1960 and became the Republic of Congo.

Faced with pressure for independence, the Belgian government, which had fi rst pro-

posed a transition period of 30 years, decided against gradualism and in 1960 announced

its intention to withdraw in six months’ time. Chaos followed. The two key nationalist

leaders, one of them the leftist leader Patrice Lumumba, were at odds with one another.

Ethnic and regional antagonisms ran deep, and no one was prepared to carry out govern-

mental responsibilities. The army mutinied, and the soldiers turned against the European

offi cers who had remained to command the new nation’s military forces. Belgian para-

troopers hastily fl ew back, and a UN international military force was sent to restore order.

When Lumumba was assassinated in 1961 (with evidence of American connivance), the

troubled situation became even more volatile because of a threatened Soviet-Western con-

frontation within the context of wider Cold War confl icts in Europe. The Soviets charged

the Europeans and their American supporters with deliberately creating the

chaos so that the Europeans might return.

Eventually, in 1965, Colonel Joseph Désiré Mobutu established a dic-

tatorship that would last for the next 32 years. He at once nationalized the

large mining enterprises and set out to break the country’s historical con-

nections to Belgian colonialism. To symbolize the new era, all geographical and personal

names were Africanized. He himself took the name Mobutu Sese Seko. The country

became Zaire, as did the famous river. The capital city of Leopoldville and the second

largest city, Stanleyville, both carrying names reminiscent of European

imperialism, became Kinshasa and Kisangani; Lake Albert became Lake

Mobutu. The former European presence in the country was thus effaced,

Cold War

entanglement

Mobutu and Zaire

110. The African Revolution

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Chapter 23 Decolonization and the Breakup of the European Empires946

and yet Western governments would support Mobutu in future years because of his anti-

communism and his willingness to have his country serve as a base for operations against

leftist movements and governments in neighboring countries such as Angola. Once again

the postcolonial transition out of a European empire became entangled in the global con-

fl icts of the Cold War; and this broader international context also affected the anticolonial

war in Angola.

Among all the colonial powers in Africa, Portugal, itself under authoritarian dictator-

ship until 1974, clung longest to its colonies, symbols of grandeur from the days of Vasco

da Gama’s late fi fteenth-century explorations and the early age of European expansion.

To retain Angola, on the southwestern African coast, and Mozambique, on the southeast-

ern, both of which at one time had been fl ourishing centers of the slave trade and had

been under Portuguese rule for over 400 years, the Portuguese dictatorship stubbornly sup-

pressed anticolonial revolts that broke out in 1961. As the fi ghting dragged on, disaffected

offi cers and soldiers in the army, radicalized by the prolonged colonial

war, turned against the Portuguese regime and overthrew the authoritarian

government in 1974. The following year Portugal granted independence to

Angola, Mozambique, and its smaller African colonies. Hundreds of thou-

sands of Portuguese fl ed.

A new postindependence war soon began in Angola as Soviet-supported Marxist

forces fought American-supported, anti-Marxist groups for control of the country, but the

only remaining European empire in Africa had fi nally collapsed. Hundreds of thousands of

Portuguese migrated to Portugal or to cities in South Africa, where the last white-controlled

government in sub-Saharan Africa would hold on to power until the early 1990s.

Portuguese withdrawal

from Angola

THE MODERN ARAB WORLD The Arabic language zone is one of the most extensive in the world, reaching from the Atlantic Ocean to the Persian Gulf. In 1945 the Arab states formed a League, which was to provide an Arab counterweight to Europe’s twentieth-century infl uence in the region and which eventu- ally came to have 22 members. The League proved to be rather loose and its members often disagreed, but after 1948 all Arab nations expressed varying levels of suspicion and hostility toward the Israeli state in the midst of an otherwise predominantly Arab world.

0 500 milesArab League

Mediterranean Sea

ATLANTIC OCEAN

INDIAN OCEAN

N ile

R .

N iger R.

R ed

Sea

Gulf o f Ade

n

Persian Gulf

MOROCCO

ALGERIA LIBYA EGYPT

TUNISIA

SUDAN

MAURITANIA

DJIBOUTI

Western Sahara

(occupied by Morocco)

SOMALIA

CANARY IS. (Sp.)

SPAIN

SAUDI ARABIA

YEMEN

OMAN

QATAR UNITED ARAB

EMIRATES

IRAQ IRAN

KUWAIT

BAHRAIN

SYRIA

TURKEY

JORDAN

ISRAEL

LEBANON CYPRUS

GREECE

CRETE

CO N

STA N

TIN E

A LG

IER S

O R A

N

Tangier

Cairo Jerusalem

Amman

Beirut Baghdad Tehran

Riyadh

Sanaa Khartoum

Tripoli

TunisAlgiers Ceuta (Sp.)

Rabat Casablanca

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947111. Europe and the Modern Middle East

The African Revolution against European colonialism now came to an end, at least as a

political/military upheaval; and like earlier anticolonial revolutions in the Americas and in

Asia, it ushered in a new era of independence and national sovereignty. European cultures

and trading systems were still infl uential in much of postcolonial Africa (as in the earlier

postcolonial societies of the Atlantic world), but the new nations did not quickly construct

democratic governments, protect human rights, resolve regional confl icts, or bring about

signifi cant changes in the economic conditions of the most impoverished social classes.

There were new civil wars and social confl icts that could be compared to the political and

cultural struggles that had also developed in other places after European colonial powers

withdrew or, indeed, that had long affl icted societies within Europe itself. Yet the African

revolutions, for all their problems and disappointments, represented another major phase

in Europe’s changing relations with the wider world—relations that were now fi nally mov-

ing beyond the long, complex history of European empires.

111. EUROPE AND THE MODERN MIDDLE EAST

The Islamic and the Arab World

In the Islamic, or Muslim, world, the age of colonial domination also ended,

and a powerful renewed sense of identity emerged. Much of the Islamic

world was determined to share in the economic and material advances of

modern Europe, but many Muslims also wanted to develop or reform their societies with-

out assimilating European or American cultural patterns. Religious and cultural traditions

thus provided alternatives to Europeanizing reforms and infl uenced the political institu-

tions in the diverse, new independent nations. In many cases strong tensions developed as

Islamic traditionalists resisted secular changes. Turkey made a concerted effort to protect

the secular society decreed by its founder, Kemal Atatürk; but elsewhere, in Saudi Arabia,

Iran, Afghanistan, Sudan, and other countries, Islamic fundamentalism created virtual the-

ocracies, profoundly affecting the interactions between Islamic societies and Europe.

The Arab states that emerged from the collapse of the Ottoman Empire

at the end of the First World War became League of Nations mandates

under British or French administration, with the expectation of one day

receiving independence. Egypt became nominally independent in 1922 and

Iraq in 1932, although the British retained treaty rights in each until after 1945. The other

Arab states became independent during or after the Second World War, when the British

and French ended their mandates. In 1945 Egypt, Iraq, Lebanon, Saudi Arabia, Syria, and

Jordan formed the infl uential League of Arab States, or Arab League. Libya, after gaining

independence in 1951, also became a member. In the decades that followed, newly inde-

pendent Arab states as well as the Palestinian National Authority joined so that it grew to

have 22 members by the end of the twentieth century.

Although Europeans sometimes imagined a united Arab or Islamic

culture, the unity of the Arab world was more fragile than often thought.

Divisive rivalries persisted between Sunni and Shiite Muslims and between

secular and religious political movements. The pan-Arabism advocated by Egypt’s Col-

onel Nasser in the 1950s failed to rally lasting support. A United Arab Republic join-

ing Egypt and Syria in 1958 was short-lived. After the Second World War, however, the

Arab states found common cause in their opposition to the state of Israel, which itself had

emerged as a new sovereign state from a British mandate in the Middle East in 1948. The

Islamic identity

The Arab states

Arab rivalries

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Chapter 23 Decolonization and the Breakup of the European Empires948

CHRONOLOGY OF NOTABLE EVENTS, 1946–1979

1946 Communist-led independence movement launches war against French control

of Vietnam

1947 Britain ends its imperial rule in South Asia, partitioning most of the region

into the two new nations of India and Pakistan

1948 Burma gains independence from Britain

1948 Republic of Israel is established in former British mandate of Palestine;

Arab states go to war against Israel

1949 Indonesia wins independence from the Netherlands

1954 France withdraws from Indochina; two governments emerge in North and

South Vietnam

1954–1962 Algerian nationalists wage war for independence from France

1955 Leaders of 29 “new nations” meet in Bandung, Indonesia, to affi rm

“nonalignment” in the Cold War and condemn Western imperialism

1956 Britain, France, and Israel attack Egypt after it nationalizes Suez Canal

1957 Ghana is the fi rst British colony in Africa to win independence

1960 France’s 15 sub-Saharan colonies complete their voting for independence

1960 Congo gains independence from Belgium, but falls into violent confl ict

1963 Federation of Malaysia is established, temporarily uniting Malaya and

Singapore after independence from Britain

1963 Kenya wins independence from Britain

1965 Singapore breaks away from Malaysia to become an independent nation

1965 General Suharto overthrows Sukarno; begins 32-year rule in Indonesia

1971 India intervenes militarily to help Bangladesh gain independence from

Pakistan

1973 Yom Kipper War: Egypt and Syria fi ght new war with Israel; confl ict leads to

Arab oil embargo as a geopolitical weapon, creating an oil crisis in Europe

1975 Angola and Mozambique gain independence from Portugal, completing the

breakup of European empires in Africa

1979 Ayatollah Khomeini returns from exile to lead Islamic Revolution in Iran

Arab states viewed Israel as a Western-backed intrusion into their land, and the result was

a series of continuing tensions and confl icts that frequently brought wider international

forces into play and also affected people in Europe.

The Emergence of Israel

Zionism, evolving in the late nineteenth century as a response to European anti-Semitism,

became a movement to establish (or reestablish) a Jewish homeland in Palestine, then part

of the Ottoman Empire. A small number of Jewish pioneers from Russia and eastern

Europe had made their way to Palestine before 1914. During the First World War, while at

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949

war with the Ottoman Empire, the British by the Balfour Declaration of 1917 voiced sup-

port for “a Jewish homeland in Palestine” but in other ways the British supported emergent

Arab nationalism. In 1923, after the demise of the Ottoman Empire, the British received a

League of Nations mandate for Palestine, and a growing number of Jewish

settlers arrived in the 1920s and 1930s.

The whole question of Palestine poignantly reemerged at the end of

the Second World War when the homeless survivors of the Nazi Holocaust,

which had all but wiped out central and eastern Europe’s Jews, sought out

Palestine as a place of refuge. But in deference to Arab protests the British limited immi-

gration from Europe and turned away whole shiploads of refugees. The Jewish leaders

pressed their cause with the UN and sympathetic American political circles and contested

the British restrictions, at times resorting even to terrorist activities directed against the

British. In 1947 the UN in a vote supported by both the United States and the Soviet Union

recommended partition of Palestine into two parts: a Jewish sector and an Arab sector,

with the area around Jerusalem under international control.

The Arabs, who had boycotted the UN committee hearings, rejected the partition, com-

plaining that they were being asked to make sacrifi ces for Europe’s persecution of the Jews.

Both sides prepared for confl ict. On May 14, 1948, when the Zionist leaders proclaimed

the Republic of Israel, Israel’s fi ve Arab neighbors—Syria, Lebanon, Jordan, Egypt, and

Iraq—refused recognition and invaded the new state. The Israelis (as the citizens of the new

republic called themselves) not only defended themselves but also counterattacked. In the

course of the fi ghting at least 600,000 Palestinian Arabs fl ed, or were forced by the Israelis

to fl ee, to Jordan, Lebanon, Syria, and other Arab states. During the war Jordan took over

the West Bank of the Jordan River, and part of Jerusalem and Egypt took the Gaza Strip,

but elsewhere Israel gained territory.

The question of

Palestine

The creation of the State of Israel in 1948 marked the triumphant culmination of a long- developing campaign in Europe and Palestine to establish an independent Jewish state. The fi rst prime minister of Israel, David Ben-Gurion, who was originally from Poland, joined the Zionist migration to Palestine in the early twentieth century. He is pictured here, sign- ing the proclamation that established the new Israeli state, opened an important new era in Jewish history, and led to a long confl ict with the surrounding Arab nations. (AP Photo)

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Chapter 23 Decolonization and the Breakup of the European Empires950

By the end of hostilities and the armistice of 1949 Israel had increased its originally

allotted land by about half. Jerusalem came under divided control. The plan for interna-

tional control was abandoned. Jordan now governed East Jerusalem, but Israel retained

control of West Jerusalem. The Arab states, unwilling to negotiate peace or even recognize

the existence of Israel as a sovereign state, made little effort to absorb the Palestinian refu-

gees who had fl ed to the Arab states and who continued to live in overcrowded, squalid

refugee camps for decades to come.

The New State of Israel

The Israelis saw themselves as creating a Jewish homeland after the Holo-

caust, so that persecuted Jews in Europe and other parts of the world would

never again be without a refuge. Under a Law of Return Jewish immigrants

from anywhere in the diaspora were automatically entitled to citizenship.

After independence Israel over the years built a modern, European-style, urban, industrial

society with a democratically elected parliament, the Knesset, and a lively political cul-

ture. For many years the moderately socialist Labor Party governed. The country provided

a large role for labor unions and agricultural cooperatives (famous as kib- butzim ), extensive health and educational services, and support for scientifi c and technological research. Implementing European conceptions of a mixed

A Jewish homeland

Economic growth

The creation of Israel and the subsequent Arab-Israeli war of 1948–1949 drove some 600,000 Palestinian Arabs into neighboring countries and refugee camps. These Palestinians were liv- ing in 1956 at a camp on the West Bank of the Jordan River—an area that came under Israeli control after the Six Day War in 1967 and remained a source of confl ict as the Palestinians later sought to establish an independent state in this territory. (John Chillingworth/Picture Post/Hulton Archive/Getty Images)

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951

economic system, the Israelis at fi rst developed an economy that was about half government-

controlled until a later shift to privatization. Economic development took off swiftly, and

industry expanded. Living standards compared favorably to those of western Europe.

Over 2 million immigrants arrived in the decades after 1948. Many Jews arrived from

the Arab states in North Africa or from Arab and non-Arab Muslim states in Asia, forced

to abandon established communities where their families had lived for centuries but where

Jews were now persecuted. From 1989 to 1992 about 400,000 Soviet Jews, fi nally permit-

ted by the Soviet government to migrate, moved to Israel from Russia and other areas of

the dissolving Soviet Union. The population of 870,000 in 1948 reached about 5,750,000

by the opening of the twenty-fi rst century.

The Arab-Israeli Wars after Independence

Four more Arab-Israeli wars were fought during the decades after 1948–1949. Israel, with

Britain and France as allies, went to war with Egypt in 1956 when Egypt nationalized the

Suez Canal and attempted to bar Israeli shipping, but the war also carried the implicit goal

of weakening Egypt’s President Nasser. The American president, Dwight Eisenhower,

opposed the British-French intervention in Egypt, fearing the implications for Cold War

confl icts in other regions, the possible effects on NATO, and the threat of a wider war with

the Soviet Union. In a rare break with its key European allies, the American government

demanded that the attack on Egypt should stop. American diplomats also worked with oth-

ers to pass a UN resolution calling for a cease-fi re. The assault was therefore suspended,

and the British-French forces soon withdrew from Egyptian territory. After the crisis

passed, the United States reaffi rmed its support for Israel and provided extensive economic

assistance. In Europe, however, the Suez crisis provoked a reassessment that pushed some

leaders in a different direction. France, originally a staunch Israeli ally and a supplier of

weapons for the Israeli military, moved away from some of its earlier support for Israel

after Charles de Gaulle became president in the late 1950s. De Gaulle decided that he

should help restore a balance of power in the region by developing closer relations with

the Arab states. The U.S.S.R., also one of the original backers of the Jewish state, reversed

itself and sent arms to Egypt and other Arab nations. The American government, following

its Cold War strategy of containment, now sought to prevent the expansion of Soviet infl u-

ence in the Middle East and pledged support to countries in the region that would oppose

communism. For the Europeans and Americans alike, the Middle East became another

contested site in the global rivalries of the Cold War.

In 1967 Israel successfully waged the Six-Day War against Egypt, Syria, and Jordan,

when Egypt moved to close the Gulf of Aqaba to Israel, which would have strangled the

Israeli economy. The outcome of the brief fi ghting in 1967 was momentous. After defeat-

ing the three Arab armies, Israel took from Jordan the West Bank of the Jordan River and

East Jerusalem; from Syria, the Golan Heights (from which the Syrians had been able to

shell Israeli settlements); and from Egypt, the Sinai Peninsula and Gaza Strip. The Israeli

occupation of Palestinian towns and the later development of Israeli settlements in the

occupied territories provoked the further development of Palestinian nationalism, new

demands for an independent Palestinian state, and the emergence of radical Palestinian

groups that began to launch terrorist attacks against Israelis, including a deadly attack on

Israel’s athletes at the Olympic Games in Munich, West Germany, in 1972.

Another war broke out in 1973 when Egyptian and Syrian forces attacked the Israelis

on the Jewish holy day Yom Kippur. Israel recovered from the surprise attack, defeated the

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Chapter 23 Decolonization and the Breakup of the European Empires952

Syrian army, and trapped the Egyptian forces in the Sinai Peninsula. With the Israelis near

victory, the League of Arab States suddenly introduced a new strategic weapon in sup-

port of Egypt and Syria, an embargo on oil shipments. Although the embargo was aimed

specifi cally at the United States and at a few European countries, such as the Netherlands,

and although it was lifted early in 1974, the price of oil quadrupled in a few short months.

This rapid price rise affected the European economy and disrupted commerce throughout

much of the global trading system. Meanwhile, the war ended with an American-mediated

settlement. Israel withdrew from the west bank of the Suez Canal, but continued to occupy

most of the Sinai Peninsula until the early 1980s.

Violence continued in the decades after the 1973 Yom Kippur War, leading to new

acts of Palestinian terrorism and an Israeli invasion of Lebanon in the early 1980s. Each

crisis in the Middle East, however, only seemed to confi rm that Europe’s infl uence in the

region had declined, that the Israeli/Palestinian confl ict defi ed all outside attempts to medi-

ate a solution, and that Europe would likely remain vulnerable to the fl uctuating costs of

oil that fl owed from Arab countries into the European economy. More generally, it was

British and French troops entered the Sinai Peninsula in 1956 as part of a joint military opera- tion with Israel to stop Egyptian nationalization of the Suez Canal and to weaken Egyptian President Nasser. The American government strongly opposed the Suez campaign and took diplomatic steps to bring about the withdrawal of European forces. These British soldiers were part of the expeditionary force that took over the road leading to Port Said and thus blocked Egyptian forces from the Suez Canal. (Popperfoto/Getty Images)

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953

also apparent that the breakup of the Ottoman Empire had presented Europeans with a set

of intractable problems that affected everything from oil prices to the threat of terrorism

within European societies and the rise of new Islamic religious movements among some of

the immigrant communities in European cities.

The Revolution in Iran

Where change occurred rapidly in the Middle East, it was clear that traditionalists often

resented the European and American infl uence that accompanied modern economic and

cultural changes. They opposed secularism and the disruption of older religious and cul-

tural institutions as a Western subversion. Yet most people in other parts of the world were

not prepared for the fi erce anti-Westernism of the Islamic revolution that erupted in 1979,

not in an Arab state, but in Iran, where the principal language was Persian (or Farsi). Iran

was a Shiite state, whereas nine-tenths of the Islamic world adhered to the Sunni branch of

Islam, but the Shiite revolutionary leaders in Iran helped to foment a new religious reviv-

alism everywhere in the Muslim world.

Over the centuries of modern history Persia (or Iran, as it was known

after 1935) had often faced the disruptions of foreign domination. At the

opening of the twentieth century, as we have seen, Britain and Russia, cov-

eting its newly discovered oil resources, divided it into spheres of European infl uence.

After the First World War the British had tried to retain control, but in 1921 an army

offi cer, Reza Khan, seized power, assumed the title of shah, or hereditary ruler, in 1925,

and embarked on a program of modernization. During the Second World War, however,

in 1941, when some of his machinations brought him threateningly close to the Axis, the

British and Russians occupied the country and forced him to abdicate in favor of his son,

Muhammad Reza. The young shah identifi ed with western Europe and the United States.

After the war American infl uence became dominant. When Prime Minister Mossa-

degh and a leftist parliament moved to nationalize and control the oil industry in the early

1950s, the shah, with clandestine support from the American CIA, ousted him and blocked

the attempt. With oil wealth and extensive American military and economic aid, the shah

embarked upon an ambitious development program. He broke up estates controlled by

feudal landowners and the Islamic clergy, reorganized the armed forces, and sent students

in large numbers to study abroad. The pace and breadth of secularization and economic

reforms pleased urban business and professional interests but alienated others, especially

in the countryside. Moreover, the shah presided over an increasingly authoritarian regime,

crushing opposition and dissent with his secret police. His huge personal wealth also did

not go unnoticed. The United States, pleased with the policies of its anti-Soviet ally in a

strategic part of the world, ignored the swelling internal restlessness. In 1978 religious-

inspired protests and strikes and riots broke out as the opposition coalesced around Islamic

clerics. A tidal wave of demonstrations forced the shah to fl ee the country in January 1979.

In February the aged leader of Iran’s Shiite community, Ayatollah Ruhollah Khomeini

(ayatollah is the highest rank in the Shiite religious hierarchy), returned to Iran from Paris.

The ayatollah had lived in France during the last phase of a fi fteen-year

exile (he spent most of these years in Iraq), but he had closely followed the

Iranian protests and denounced the shah’s pro-Western, anticlerical, and

irreligious regime. Ayatollah Khomeini quickly assumed leadership of the

revolution and proclaimed an “Islamic republic.” His newly formed revolu-

tionary guards routed the shah’s troops. Supreme control rested with the ayatollah and his

Foreign domination

Ayatollah Khomeini’s

“Islamic republic”

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Chapter 23 Decolonization and the Breakup of the European Empires954

ISRAEL AND ADJOINING REGIONS AFTER THE ERA OF THE BRITISH MANDATE “Palestine” is the term by which Europeans long designated a small region of predominantly Arab population on the east coast of the Mediterranean. The area belonged to the Ottoman Empire until the end of the First World War. In 1922 the League of Nations made the terri- tory a mandate of Great Britain, which soon responded to Arab dissatisfactions by placing restrictions on the migration of European Jews, who had been moving into Palestine since the rise of Zionism in the late nineteenth century. After the deaths of millions of Jews in the Holocaust during the Second World War, the Zionist aspiration for an independent Jewish state won new international support, especially in Europe and North America. In 1947 the UN proposed a partition of Palestinian lands to create a new Jewish state and a division of the city

BRITISH MANDATE 1922–1948

0 40 miles

Mediterranean Sea

Dead Sea

Gulf of Aqaba

Jo rd

a n

R .

Sea of Galilee

SYRIA

JORDAN

EGYPT

SINAI PENINSULA

P A

L E

S T

I N

E

Jerusalem

PROPOSED UN PARTITION

1947

Jewish Arab Jerusalem

Mediterranean Sea

Dead Sea

Gulf of Aqaba

Jo rd

a n

R .

Sea of Galilee

SYRIA

EGYPT

SINAI PENINSULA

LEBANON

J O

R D

A N

Jerusalem

Gaza

Tel Aviv

Haifa

REPUBLIC OF ISRAEL 1948–1967

Mediterranean Sea

Dead Sea

Gulf of Aqaba

Jo rd

a n

R .

Sea of Galilee

SYRIA

EGYPT

SINAI PENINSULA

LEB.

J O

R D

A NNegev

ISRAEL

Jerusalem

Gaza

Tel Aviv

Haifa

Occupied by Israel 1967

Regained by Egypt 1975

UN Zone

AFTER 1967

Mediterranean Sea

Gulf of Suez

Gulf of Aqaba

Dead Sea Suez Canal

Red Sea

SYRIALEBANON

JORDAN EGYPT

ISRAEL GOLAN HEIGHTS

WEST

BANK

SINAI PENINSULA

SAUDI ARABIA

Cairo Gaza Jerusalem

Tel Aviv

Haifa

Amman

Beirut

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955

AFTER ISRAELI-EGYPTIAN PEACE, 1979–1982

0 200 miles100

Mediterranean Sea

Gulf of Suez

Gulf of Aqaba

Dead Sea Suez Canal

Red Sea

SYRIALEBANON

JORDAN

ISRAEL GOLAN HEIGHTS

WEST

BANK

SINAI PENINSULA

SAUDI ARABIA

EGYPT

Gaza

Jerusalem

Tel Aviv

Haifa

Amman

Beirut

Area under Palestinian Control

0 40 miles

Mediterranean Sea

Dead Sea

Gulf of Aqaba

Jo rd

a n

R .

Sea of Galilee

SYRIA

JORDAN

EGYPT

SINAI PENINSULA

WEST BANK

GAZA STRIP

Jerusalem

Tel Aviv- Yafo

Jericho

Gaza

Beersheeba

of Jerusalem into separate zones. The Arabs rejected this plan, but in the Arab-Israeli war of 1948 the Israelis won control of wider boundaries than those fi rst proposed. The Arab states still refused to recognize Israel. In the Six-Day War of 1967 the Israelis occupied additional territory, as shown in the fourth panel, labeled after 1967. In 1973, in the Yom Kippur War, Egypt and Syria attacked to regain their lost lands, but Israel defeated them and continued to occupy the Sinai Peninsula and other territories, although Egypt eventually won control of the east bank of the Suez Canal. Under a peace treaty that Israel and Egypt negotiated in 1979, Israel returned the Sinai to Egypt, but retained the small area known as the Gaza Strip. In 1993 Israel agreed to begin withdrawing from some areas of the occupied territories and allow the fi rst steps toward self-government for the Palestinians. A new Palestinian Authority emerged to govern the autonomous Palestinian communities, but a long series of later confl icts and negotiations had still not led to a fi nal peace settlement or an independent Palestinian state in the early twenty-fi rst century. In 2005, however, Israel removed all Jewish settlements and its military forces from the Gaza Strip.

council of religious guardians, appointed to guarantee the new regime’s strict commitment

to Islam and to ensure control of the revolution through a network of mosques.

The revolutionary authorities forcefully rejected the European and American infl u-

ences in Iranian society and set out to restore traditional Islamic ways of life. Women were

ordered to wear the chador, the traditional long black dress covering them from head to toe.

The necktie was outlawed for men, who were also encouraged to grow beards. The author-

ities banned Western music, classical and popular, from radio and television and enforced

the Islamic prohibition on alcohol. Islamic law, to be interpreted by the clerics, took

precedence over secular law. Thousands were executed for religious, moral, or political

offenses. The ayatollah’s theocracy pushed aside moderate leaders, even those who had

welcomed the overthrow of the shah. The fi rst president was forced to fl ee into exile in

France; the foreign minister was executed.

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Chapter 23 Decolonization and the Breakup of the European Empires956

Militants, m any of them university students, aroused to frenzied

heights by the ayatollah’s fervid denunciations of the United States as “the

great Satan,” took action on their own. Reacting to the admission of the ail-

ing shah to the United States in the autumn of 1979, revolutionary guards and students

seized the American embassy in Tehran in retaliation and held 50 American hostages for

close to 15 months, demanding the return of the shah and his wealth to Iran. The American

hostages were fi nally released in early 1981, but the new Iranian Islamic Republic contin-

ued to repress its internal critics. Iran also entered into a long war with Iraq after the Iraqi

military launched attacks on Iranian territory. Meanwhile, the Iranian revolutionaries

sought to eradicate many of the secular and Western infl uences that would never com-

pletely disappear from Iranian politics, culture, and economic life.

Although the Iranian Revolution mobilized new political movements of radical Mus-

lims in other countries, condemned American policies in the Middle East, and altered the

balance of power between the major Islamic states, it may be best understood in relation

to modern European history as a fi nal great upheaval in the vast movement toward decolo-

nization that swept across the world between the late 1940s and the late 1970s. Whatever

else might be said about the specifi c ideas and aspirations of the Islamic Revolution, it

clearly represented another popular campaign for the expulsion of Western political and

economic interests from a society that was long dominated by the outside power of Britain

and then the United States. A religious movement that may have attracted much less sup-

port in a different context or time therefore generated strong nationalist passions among

“ The great Satan”

The revolution in Iran brought on a wave of militant, anti-Western demonstrations. These Ira- nian women, wearing the chador to assert their strong Islamic values, showed their determined support for Islamic religious traditions and the new political order as well as their opposition to European-style clothing by wielding powerful, modern weapons. (Christine Spengler/Sygma/Corbis)

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957

the huge crowds, political activists, and intellectual elites who saw Islamic clerics as an

expression of Iranian national sovereignty and as the leaders of a mass movement for true

national independence.

The anticolonial and anti-imperialist movements that developed in South and South-

east Asia during the late 1940s and spread across all of Africa and the Middle East in the

1950s and 1960s ultimately came to a fi nal explosion in the Iranian Revolution of 1978–

1979. To be sure, the Iranian anger was directed more at the United States than at Europe.

Yet the Iranian critique of modern secular cultures and social practices was also part of a

broader rejection of the whole European ascendancy that had held sway over most of Asia

and Africa since the later nineteenth century and that was now ending in the global pro-

cesses of decolonization. The Islamic themes of the Iranian Revolution and of other radical

religious movements in the Arab world differed enormously from the ideas of the secular

Communists who led the anticolonial movements in places such as Vietnam, and yet simi-

lar challenges to European power and culture could be found wherever anticolonial or anti-

Western movements emerged in the 1940s to 1970s. The “Age of the Asian and African

Revolutions” changed Europe’s position in global history, much like the previous “Age of

the Atlantic Revolutions” had transformed Europe’s position in the Americas. European

culture, science, commerce, and political theories remained powerful forces in the modern

world, but Europe’s relations with non-European peoples and societies, after decoloniza-

tion, would never again return to the hierarchical global systems of earlier historical eras.

For suggested further readings and useful Web sites, interactive exercises, glossary, chronologies,

and more, go to the Online Learning Center at www.mhhe.com/palmerhistory11e.

111. Europe and the Modern Middle East

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959

C h a p t e r 24 COEXISTENCE,

CONFRONTATION,

AND THE NEW

EUROPEAN ECONOMY

We must turn   from our account of the breakup of empires to other political and economic changes

that affected the internal development of European

societies as well as Europe’s position in global

affairs during the late twentieth century. By the

end of the 1950s western Europe and Japan had

drawn on American aid and their own technical

expertise to rebuild their war-damaged cities and

factories. Responding to the new challenges of a

bipolar world and the global ambitions of two com-

peting superpowers, western Europe had joined

more closely together economically in the evolv-

ing European Community (EC) and buried many of its old antagonisms. Regions of the

world that formerly were part of European colonial empires were everywhere asserting

their new social and cultural autonomy. The global economy grew increasingly interdepen-

dent and the vicissitudes of economic expansion and contraction reverberated worldwide.

Older distinctions between “industrialized” Europe and “nonindustrialized” societies

became blurred, and even the Soviet bloc in eastern Europe expanded its trade and fi nan-

cial exchanges with non-Communist countries.

Yet the Cold War continued to manifest itself in an escalating nuclear arms race and in

the worldwide confrontation of the two superpowers, each of which attempted to prevent

the other from gaining the ascendancy. The stockpiling of nuclear arms and the develop-

ment of sophisticated long-range delivery systems led to the accumulation of unparalleled

destructive power. The nuclear missiles supposedly were built for deterrence and not for

use, and a new kind of balance of power emerged that preserved the peace. The people

of Europe (like others around the world) nonetheless lived under the threat of a possible

nuclear catastrophe, and neither economic nor intellectual life could fully escape from the

global shadow of the Cold War.

112. Confrontation and

Détente, 1955–1975

113. Collapse and Recovery of

the European and Global

Economy: The 1970s and

1980s

114. The Cold War Rekindled

and Defused

Chapter emblem: Citizens of Prague celebrate the destruction of a tank in 1968, after the Soviet invasion of

Czechoslovakia. (Reg Lancaster/Express/Getty images)

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Chapter 24 Coexistence, Confrontation, and the New European Economy960

As time passed, the phenomenon of “bipolarity,” or the predominance of the two

superpowers, the United States and the Soviet Union, gradually gave way to new global

confi gurations; and Europe gradually became a more independent force within the con-

text of superpower confl icts. Many Europeans, for example, became strong advocates for

human rights, or they protested the escalating arms race that led to the placement of nuclear

weapons in the densely populated countries of both eastern and western Europe. But while

the charged atmosphere of the Cold War lasted, despite periods of détente, Europeans

were forced to live with repeated international crises that were often beyond their control.

As late as 1985 no one could foresee how or when the Cold War would end.

112. CONFRONTATION AND DÉTENTE, 1955–1975

The Soviet leaders who succeeded Stalin after 1953 seemed at times more conciliatory

and willing to acknowledge the need for arms control and cooperation in the nuclear age.

An alternative of peaceful coexistence and competing world systems promised to open up,

and there were even recognizable periods of détente, or formal relaxation of

tensions. But dangerous confrontations recurred, the nuclear arms buildup

assumed unprecedented forms and dimensions, and relations see-sawed

over the next several decades between conciliation and crisis.

By 1955 the Cold War had stabilized, especially in Europe. The North Atlantic Treaty

Organization (NATO), strengthened by the West German armed forces, faced the Warsaw

Pact nations of the Soviet bloc. The iron curtain still divided Europe, but the threat of

direct military confrontation receded. The Western powers and the Soviet Union were

even able to agree in 1955 on a treaty with Austria, ending the joint Allied occupation and

leaving Austria independent and neutral.

We have seen how Khrushchev had emerged as the dominant Soviet leader after the

death of Stalin. Sharp-tongued, volatile, boastful, he announced that the Soviets would

abandon their revolutionary principles only “when shrimp learn to whistle” and pledged that

the Soviets would “bury” Western capitalism. Nonetheless he rejected the

inevitability of war and emphasized the “possibility and necessity of peace-

ful coexistence.” President Eisenhower, in offi ce from 1953 to 1961, contin-

ued the policy of containment and the American military buildup, but both

superpowers recognized the need for coexistence in the nuclear age.

In 1955 President Eisenhower, along with the British and French, met at Geneva with

Soviet leaders in a friendlier atmosphere than any since the Second World War. Although

they reached no new agreements, the American president could speak of “a new spirit of

conciliation and cooperation.” But tensions mounted over Berlin. The Soviets, incensed

that East Germans were fl eeing in large numbers to West Berlin and then to the Federal

Republic of Germany, demanded that the Western powers end their occupation of West

Berlin, but Eisenhower forcefully rejected the ultimatum, and the crisis passed. In 1959,

when Khrushchev visited President Eisenhower at his weekend retreat in Camp David,

they spoke of peaceful coexistence and even of mutual disarmament.

At a second summit conference in Paris, the superpowers continued to recognize

their common interests in preserving stability and peace. But by then Khrushchev, under

criticism at home and from Mao in China for being too conciliatory toward the West,

produced irrefutable evidence of American reconnaissance fl ights over

Soviet territory and broke up the conference. By the summer of 1960

the “spirit of Geneva” and the “spirit of Camp David” had faded. When

Periods of détente

Pressures for

coexistence

Cooperation fades

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961112. Confrontation and Détente, 1955–1975

Khrushchev spoke before the United Nations, he boasted of Soviet arms production and

denounced the United States.

The United States, unwavering in its resolve to maintain the defense of western

Europe, accepted Soviet hegemony east of the iron curtain. The Americans and their west-

ern European allies protested but did not intervene when in 1953 the Soviets put down

antigovernment riots in East Berlin, or when in 1956 the Soviets exerted pressure on

Poland to curb its reform movement, or when the Soviets, even more dramatically, sent

troops and tanks that year to crush the Hungarian revolt, or later, in 1968, the Czech upris-

ing. The United States offered little more than moral encouragement to dissident groups in

all of these eastern European states.

At the same time one part of the world after another was being brought into the Amer-

ican strategic defense system. In the Suez crisis in 1956 (which broke out simultaneously

with the troubles in Hungary) the United States deterred Britain, France, and Israel from

pressing military action against Egypt, at least in part because it might have

encouraged Soviet intervention. European actions in the Middle East were

thus constrained by the Cold War, and the American allies were frustrated,

but a wider confl ict with the Soviets was averted. American foreign policy

in the Cold War remained based on the premise that unrest on every con-

tinent was Soviet-inspired—a premise that sometimes prevented Americans from under-

standing the complex local causes of political confl icts within Europe or around the world.

The nuclear arms race continued. In October 1957 the Soviets, to the world’s aston-

ishment, demonstrated their prowess in the new era of rocket technology when they suc-

cessfully launched Sputnik, the fi rst artifi cial satellite to orbit in outer space. A few months later the United States launched its own space satellite, Explorer I. The space age had opened, and the military implications of space rocketry quickly became apparent.

A new kind of arms race emerged, using the technology of intercon-

tinental ballistic missiles and the idea of “mutual deterrence.” Given the

destructive capability of the new weaponry, it became impossible to pro-

mote a strategy of “massive retaliation.” Now that American cities were

vulnerable to nuclear destruction, anxiety spread in western Europe that the

United States might not so readily defend it. De Gaulle, the French presi-

dent, voiced these and other misgivings in the 1960s as he built up a French nuclear force

and called for a more independent role for the West Europeans. Rejecting the rigid bipo-

lar patterns of the Cold War and viewing postwar international relations as a traditional

struggle between great powers rather than as a confl ict of ideologies, de Gaulle urged

Europeans to recognize their own spheres of national interest and to promote Europe’s

reunifi cation—“from the Atlantic to the Urals.” He declined to follow the American lead

in foreign policy in Europe or elsewhere. Although he kept France in the Atlantic alliance,

in a gesture of independence he withdrew France from the integrated NATO military com-

mand in 1966 and pressured NATO into moving its headquarters from French soil. His

aspirations for a leadership role on the international scene troubled many Europeans, but

he nevertheless articulated European uneasiness with American hegemony over western

Europe’s policies in world affairs.

The Cold War in the 1960s

The gravest direct Soviet-American confrontations came during the early 1960s. President

John F. Kennedy heightened the rhetoric of the Cold War in these years, proclaiming that

American Cold War

policy

A new kind of arms

race

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Chapter 24 Coexistence, Confrontation, and the New European Economy962

the United States “had to pay any price, bear any burden, meet any hardship, support any

friend or oppose any foe in order to assure the success and survival of liberty.” Kennedy

took steps to close what he called a “missile gap” with the Soviets; and he supported

Cuban exiles who launched an unsuccessful assault on Cuba—where the revolutionary

leader Fidel Castro was developing close relations with the Soviet Union. The new ten-

sions spilled over into Europe later in 1961. At a meeting with Kennedy in Vienna that

year, Khrushchev delivered a new Soviet ultimatum for the western European powers and

THE WORLD ABOUT 1970 This political map of the world about 1970 shows a number of important changes that reduced Europe’s global infl uence after the end of the Second World War: the breakup of the Euro- pean colonial empires in Asia and Africa, the emergence of some 50 independent republics in Africa and of several new states in Asia, the emergence of the People’s Republic of China, and the peripheral expansion of the Soviet Union.

PORTUGAL SPAIN

MOROCCO

SPANISH SAHARA

ALGERIA

TUN

WESTERN SAMOA

GREENLAND (Denmark)

ICELAND NORWAY

SW

NIGERIA

S

A

C A N A D A

U N I T E D S T A T E S

MEXICO CUBA

COLOMBIA

VENEZUELA

NICARAGUA

HONDURAS

BOLIVIA

PERU B R A Z I L

PARAGUAY

ARGENTINA

URUGUAYCHILE

ECUADOR

GUATEMALA EL SALVADOR

COSTA RICA

ITA

FRANCE

BELGIUM

DEN.

NETH.

SW ITZ

.

U.S. State of Alaska

ALEU TIAN

S

H AI

TI

DO M

IN CA

N R EP

UB LIC

PUERTO RICO (U.S.) GUADELOUPE (Fr.) MARTINIQUE (Fr.) ST. LUCIA (Br.)

BARBADOS TRINIDAD & TOBAGO

GRENADA

JAMAICA

PAN AM

A

GALAPAGOS IS. (Ec.)

BAHAMAS

FALKLAND IS. (Br.)

CABINDA (Angola)

GABO

EQUAT. GUINEA

CA RO

NIGER

B EN

IN

TO G

O

G H

A N

A

IV O

RY C

O A

ST

LIBERIA

SIERRA LEONE

GUINEA- BISSAU

GAMBIA SENEGAL

CAPE VERDE

GUINEA UPPER VOLTA

MALI MAURITANIA

CANARY IS. (Sp.)

LUX. AU

E. GER

W. GER.

IRELAND

UNITED KINGDOM

U.S. State of Hawaii

SOCIETY IS. (Fr.)

COOK IS. (Br.)

TUAMOTU IS. (Fr.)

MARQUESAS IS. (Fr.)

AZORES (Sp.) MADEIRA

(Port.)

ASCENSION IS. (Br.)

SÃO TO MÉ &

PRIN CIPE

BERMUDA (Br.)

BELIZE

TONGA

GUYANA SURINAME

FRENCH GUIANA

S O U T H AT L A N T I C O C E A N

SOUTH PACIFIC OCEAN

Bering Sea

Hudson Bay

Cape of Good

NORTH ATLANTIC OCEAN

NORTH PACIFIC OCEAN

A R C T I C O C E A N

Cape Horn

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963112. Confrontation and Détente, 1955–1975

the United States to leave Berlin. Kennedy, smarting over the recent defeat in Cuba, reaf-

fi rmed the Western resolve to remain in Berlin. He asked Congress to expand American

military forces, inaugurated a civil defense program, and made plans for fall-out shelters in

the event of nuclear war. The European members of the Atlantic alliance backed him, and

the immediate crisis passed. But in the summer of 1961 the Soviets, exasperated at the

continuing exodus from East Berlin (over 3 million East Germans had already fl ed), con-

structed the Berlin Wall, a 28-mile rampart of concrete and barbed wire, with armed sentry

stations. The Wall stood as a grim physical reminder of the Cold War and of the enduring

postwar division of Germany; hundreds of East Germans who attempted to

cross the barrier met their deaths. Meanwhile, both the Soviets and the

Americans resumed their testing of nuclear weapons. The Berlin Wall

British Commonwealth

SPAIN

ALGERIA

TUNISIA

PEOPLE'S REPUBLIC OF CHINA SOUTH KOREA

MONGOLIA

INDIA

TIBET

THAI- LAND

JAPAN

AUSTRALIA

NEW ZEALAND

NORWAY

SWEDEN FINLAND

LIBYA EGYPT

SYRIA IRAQ IRAN

OMAN

AFGHAN- ISTAN

S O V I E T U N I O N

NIGERIA

ANGOLA

RWANDA

TANZANIA

SOUTH- WEST

AFRICA

REPUBLIC OF SOUTH AFRICA

SUDAN

MADAGASCAR

POLAND CZECH.

ROM- ANIAYUGO-

SLAVIA

GREECE TURKEY ITALY

FRANCE

BELGIUM

DEN.

NETH.

SW ITZ

.

LESOTHO

SWAZILAND

BOTS- WANA MOZAMBIQUE

RHODESIA

ZAMBIA MALAWI

MAURITIUS REUNION (Fr.)

ZAÏRE

COM OROS

SEYCHELLES (Br.)

CO N

G O

CABINDA (Angola)

GABON

EQUAT. GUINEA

CAME- ROON

CENT. AFR. REP.

KENYA UGANDA

SOMALIA

ETHIOPIA

DJIBOUTI

CHAD NIGER

B EN

IN

TO G

O

G H

A N

A

A ST

UPPER VOLTA

MALI

MALDIVES

P.D.R. YEMENYEMEN

UNITED ARAB EMIRATES

SAUDI ARABIA

BAHRAIN QATA R

KUWAIT JORDAN

LEB. ISRAEL

PA K

IS TA

N

CYPRUSMALTA

ALB.

LUX.

BULGARIA

AUST.HUN.

E. GER.

W. GER.

NITED GDOM

SRI LANKA (CEYLON)

NEPAL B H UT

AN

BANGLADESH

BURMA LAOS

CA MB

.

N. VIETNAM

SINGAPORE

SUMATRA

MALAYSIA SARAWAK

BORNEO

I N D O N E S I A JAVA (Port.)

TIMOR

TASMANIA

NEW GUINEA

PAPUA NEW GUINEA

THE PHILIPPINES

M ACAO

HONG KONG (Br.)

TAIWAN (Nat. China)

Okinawa

R Y

U K

Y U

IS

NORTH KOREA

MANCHURIA KURIL IS.

Sakhalin

CAROLINE IS. (U.S. Administered)

GUAM (U.S.)

OMÉ & PR

INCI PE

BURUNDI

(Port.)

PALAU

S. VIETNAM

C E A N

INDIAN OCEAN

PACIFIC OCEAN

Caspian Sea

Black Sea

Coral Sea

Cape of Good Hope

A R C T I C O C E A N

South China Sea

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Chapter 24 Coexistence, Confrontation, and the New European Economy964

The most dangerous Western-Soviet confrontation occurred not in Berlin but in Cuba,

where in the fall of 1962 Khrushchev dispatched Soviet soldiers and technicians to the

island to construct missile sites that would have brought the American mainland within

target range. For the United States this Soviet intrusion on America’s own doorstep was a

completely unacceptable military threat.

During 13 tense days in October President Kennedy and his advisers resolved not to

take any hasty military action but to stand fi rm against the Soviet military presence in

Cuba, fully aware that the showdown could lead to nuclear war. Kennedy imposed a

blockade (or quarantine) of the island, forbidding further deliveries of arms and supplies.

The launching of any nuclear missile from Cuba, he made clear, would lead to a “full

retaliatory response upon the Soviet Union.” Although Khrushchev blus-

tered that the blockade was illegal, he backed down. He recalled Soviet

ships that were en route to Cuba and also accepted Kennedy’s demand that Cuban missile crisis

The Berlin Wall became both a concrete and symbolic expression of the bitter divisions in Europe during the Cold War. This photograph shows how workers built the Wall in 1961 under the close supervision of armed guards. Although the Wall accomplished the Soviets’ short-term political objective by stopping the exodus of East Germans, it also confi rmed the repressive character of Soviet-controlled states in eastern Europe. (Popperfoto/Getty Images)

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965112. Confrontation and Détente, 1955–1975

the missiles be withdrawn from the Cuban bases. In one note Khrushchev

agreed to remove the missile sites in return for an American pledge not to

invade Cuba. In a second note, more aggressive in tone, he demanded the

removal of American missile sites in Turkey. Kennedy replied only to the

fi rst message, but privately let it be known that the United States would eventually remove

its missiles in Turkey. By late October the most ominous crisis of the Cold War,

an “eyeball-to-eyeball” confrontation, as the American Secretary of State Dean Rusk

described it, was over.

Khrushchev had lost face; he was weakened still further by economic problems within

the Soviet Union, and he was ousted from power in 1964. Tensions once again eased, and

the Soviet leaders would never again show such recklessness, but the Cuban crisis had a

direct effect on the arms race. Both the Soviet Union and the United States moved to

expand their nuclear arsenals, and the Soviets under Khrushchev’s successors were deter-

mined to achieve nuclear parity.

The Americans drew their own lessons from the Cuban missile crisis. Reaffi rming a

global policy of resisting Communist forces wherever they appeared, the United States soon

became deeply involved in the continuing confl ict in Vietnam. Like other countries in this

era, Vietnam had been divided into Communist and non-Communist sectors after the French

left in 1954, but American policymakers feared that the French withdrawal from Indochina

would open the way for Communist expansion across Southeast Asia. The

American presidents Eisenhower, Kennedy, Lyndon Johnson, and Nixon

therefore sought to fi ll the vacuum that was created in this region by the col-

lapse of France’s colonial system. During the decade after the construction

of the Berlin Wall and the Cuban missile crisis, the United States sent an

American army of well over 500,000 troops to support the anti-Communist regime in South

Vietnam, launched wide-ranging attacks on Communist guerrilla forces, and conducted

massive air bombardments of territories and supply lines that were controlled by Ho Chi

Minh’s North Vietnamese government. The death of Ho himself in 1969 had little effect on

the war, which continued into the 1970s. The anti-Communist regime was unable to estab-

lish a stable government or expel the Communists from the countryside, however, and the

United States—facing domestic unrest and broad-based criticism in Europe—ultimately

withdrew its forces. The war ended in 1975 when the Communists took complete control of

South Vietnam and united the country under one government.

The American war in Vietnam signifi cantly affected European views of the United

States. America’s allies in western Europe were generally critical of the deepening American

military involvement, which coincided with Europe’s own political and military withdrawal

from empires in Asia and Africa. Europeans became skeptical of the strategic

value as well as the morality of the American war. President de Gaulle, a

moralizer when it suited his vision of the French role in world affairs, saw

the American intervention in Vietnam as the doomed follow-up to France’s

own colonial failures in Indochina; and he claimed that it was “detestable” for

“a great nation to ravage a small one.” The United States, which had been hailed as a great

liberating force in Europe in the 1940s, was now condemned by antiwar protestors in the cit-

ies and universities of Germany, France, Britain, and other European countries. The critique

of American policies in Vietnam, however, did not push Europeans toward a new sympathy

for the Soviet Union. In fact, by the late 1960s a new generation of Soviet leaders had shown

most people in western Europe why they had good reasons to sustain their political, economic,

and cultural alliances with the United States—even in the worst years of the Vietnam War.

An eyeball-to-eyeball

confrontation

The Vietnam War

Critiques of

Vietnam War

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Chapter 24 Coexistence, Confrontation, and the New European Economy966

Brezhnev and the Prague Spring in Eastern Europe

Leonid I. Brezhnev, who emerged as the dominant Soviet leader after Khrushchev’s fall

from power in 1964 and came to head both party and state, was intent, with reckless dis-

regard for the costs to the economy, on building the country’s military and naval strength

to compete with the United States. Yet he avoided direct confrontation and saw political

and economic advantages in a relaxation of tensions and arms negotiations. A widening

rift with Communist China made détente with the Western powers even more important.

But the two superpowers continued to vie with each other for infl uence in the Middle East,

Africa, and other strategic areas of the world; and the Soviets consolidated their hold on

eastern Europe.

Despite the failure of the Hungarian uprising in 1956, the longing for freedom and

independence in eastern Europe could not be suppressed. When in 1968 the liberalizing

reforms of Alexander Dubček allowed for more open political debates and threatened the

The American war in Vietnam provoked frequent protests across Europe, including this anti- war demonstration in London in the spring of 1968. Despite the widespread opposition to American policies in Vietnam, however, western European nations maintained their strong political and military alliance with the United States during every decade of the long Cold War. (Evening Standard/Getty Images)

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967112. Confrontation and Détente, 1955–1975

one-party state in Czechoslovakia, Brezhnev and the party leadership ruthlessly crushed

the “Prague spring.” They dispatched 250,000 troops, including token Polish, Hungarian,

and East German contingents, to suppress the incipient revolution and remove Dubček and

his reformist allies from power. The “Brezhnev Doctrine” that year proclaimed the Soviet

right to intervene in the name of “proletarian internationalism” in any Communist country

VIETNAM AND ITS NEIGHBORS AFTER THE ERA OF FRENCH COLONIALISM, SHOWING BOUNDARIES IN 1970 The French built up their colonial empire in Indochina during the 60 years before the Second World War, controlling the old Asian territories of Cambodia, Laos, and Vietnam. Shaken by Japanese occupation of the region during the Second World War, the French were unable to defeat a postwar Vietnamese movement for independence that drew strength also from Communist affi liations. When the French withdrew in 1954, the Geneva Accords provided for partition of Vietnam until national elections could take place and unity could be restored, but the elections never took place. Because the north was now Communist, the United States provided economic and military support for an anti-Communist regime in South Vietnam. This involvement grew in the 1960s as the confl ict between North and South Vietnam devel- oped into a large-scale war. The United States intervened with over 500,000 troops and heavy air bombardments, but the American forces (like the French before them) could not defeat the Vietnamese Communists—who were supplied with arms by the Soviet Union. American troops were gradually withdrawn in the early 1970s, and North Vietnam eventually won the war. Hostilities ended in 1975 with Communist regimes in control of a unifi ed Vietnam and of Laos and Cambodia.

0 200 miles10050 150

Demarcation Line of 1954

M ekong

R.

Gulf of Tonkin

South China Sea

Gulf of Thailand

Mekong Delta

Tonle Sap

C h

a o

P h

ra ya

R .

P in

g R

. N an

R .

C H I N A

BURMA NORTH VIETNAM

SOUTH VIETNAM

T H A I L A N D

CAMBODIA

HAINANL A

O

S

Dienbienphu

Danang

Chulai

Quangngai

Quinhon

Hanoi

Vinh

Donghoi

Bangkok

Phnompenh

Saigon

Sama

Nanning

Pingsiang Loakay

Yen Bay

Haiphong

Thanuyen

Thanhoa Paksong Ban

BanLuang Prabang

Vang Vieng

Nan Lampang

Changmai

Moulmein

Nakhon Sawan

Ta Khli

Vientiane

Udon Hué

Vinhlinh

Pakse

Kontum

Pleiku Ankhe

Ratchasima

Than Buri Stungtreng

Battambang

Bo Duc Ben Cat

Bein Hoa

Nhatrang

Camranh Bay

Camau

Kompong Cham

Preyveng

Rachgia

Tan Son Nhut Vinhlong

Cantho

Kompong Som (Sihanoukville)

Tamky

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Chapter 24 Coexistence, Confrontation, and the New European Economy968

The citizens of Prague responded angrily to the Soviet military forces in their city in August 1968, but they could do little against the 250,000 well-armed troops. These young people celebrated the destruction of a Soviet tank; elsewhere in the city, however, the Soviets were destroying the reformist government of Alexander Dubček and suppressing the movement that had attempted to create a more democratic political system in Czechoslovakia. (Reg Lancaster/Express/Images)

to protect “socialism” against “internal or external forces” and prevent the

“restoration of a capitalist regime.” It was in its own way a kind of mirror

image of the Truman Doctrine. Czechoslovakia returned to a tight dictator-

ship ruled by party bosses with close ties to Moscow. The United States did

no more than protest the armed intervention in Czechoslovakia, demonstrating once again

that it would not openly challenge Soviet control over eastern Europe in what was tacitly

accepted as a sphere of Soviet infl uence. But the invasion of Czechoslovakia, like the sup-

pression of the 1956 Hungarian uprising, alienated the Communist faithful in many parts

of the world and undermined the Soviet infl uence on the western European Communist

parties, which strongly denounced the military intervention.

Brezhnev and Nixon

Although President Nixon, who took offi ce in 1969, continued and even intensifi ed the

war in Vietnam, he introduced greater fl exibility into the American policy

of containment and pursued a policy of systematic détente in the Cold War.

Like his national security advisor, Henry Kissinger, (and somewhat like

The Brezhnev

Doctrine

Nixon and détente

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969112. Confrontation and Détente, 1955–1975

President de Gaulle in France), Nixon believed in the balance of power diplomacy of an

earlier age, and he assumed that each country’s long-range national self-interest and geo-

political concerns should count more than ideology.

Under the Nixon-Kissinger policy the United States linked Western technology, trade,

and investment to Soviet cooperation in international affairs. The economic inducements

were important because the Soviet Union’s economic diffi culties were aggravated by its

growing arms burden. Khrushchev’s earlier boast of surpassing the West economically

had proved hollow. The Soviets badly needed Western technology, investment credits, and

even Western grain. In the new atmosphere American and West European private bankers

made large loans to the East European nations, which benefi ted even more than the Soviets

from détente. The two Germanys moved closer together in economic relations, recognized

each other diplomatically, and were admitted to the UN in 1973 as two separate sovereign

states.

The Nixon-Kissinger policies in Europe developed out of a reassess-

ment of global realities. Unlike the bipolar situation in 1945 when there

were only two superpowers, there were now other emergent power cen-

ters, including the People’s Republic of China. In 1971 the United States

withdrew its objections to the entry of the People’s Republic of China into the UN as a

replacement for Taiwan. The American opening to China increased pressure on the

Soviets to pursue détente. The Soviet arms buildup under Brezhnev signifi ed that the

Soviets were approaching nuclear parity, and both the United States and the Soviet

Union found it to their advantage to negotiate arms reduction. In 1972 Nixon and the

Soviet leaders reaffi rmed the goal of “peaceful coexistence” and signed

the SALT I treaty. Each nation agreed to reduce its antimissile defense

system to make it possible to work toward equality in offensive weapons.

After Nixon resigned from the presidency in 1974 following the Water-

gate scandal, détente continued under his successor, President Gerald

Ford.

Détente offered an opportunity to settle or phase out some unresolved European issues

of the Second World War. In 1975, in what resembled a peace conference for Europe,

three decades after the Second World War had ended, 35 nations—the 16 members of

NATO, the 7 Warsaw Pact states, and 12 European countries not formally

members of either alliance—met at Helsinki over a period of two years in a

Conference on Security and Cooperation in Europe. They pledged to work

for peace, economic and cultural cooperation, and the protection of human

rights. The Helsinki Accords, although not a formal treaty, confi rmed that

postwar Europe had regained the political and economic vitality that was shattered in the

chaos and destruction of 1939–1945. The accords ratifi ed the European territorial boundar-

ies established after the Second World War and set up “Helsinki watch committees” for

the surveillance of human rights in nations that signed the agreements. The U.S.S.R. con-

sidered the commitment to human rights a small price to pay in exchange for the economic

and other benefi ts of détente. It still expected to keep strict limits on dissent within its

own country and in its East European satellites, but it failed to see how much the Helsinki

Accords would encourage dissenters to defy repression. The Helsinki agreements helped

to create a new political environment in which dissident movements gained support in

eastern Europe and gradually mobilized opposition groups that would bring about the col-

lapse of every Communist regime in the Soviet bloc by the end of the 1980s. The Helsinki

New American

policies

SALT I

The Helsinki Accords

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Chapter 24 Coexistence, Confrontation, and the New European Economy970

conference was thus the high point of Cold War détente. It showed the growing importance

of human rights as a key issue in European political life, and it became the starting point

for wider historical changes, though in the short run, in 1979, Soviet-Western relations

took another downward turn. But we must fi rst turn to the changing world economy, to

which the Soviet Union and the countries of eastern Europe were now more closely tied

than ever before.

113. COLLAPSE AND RECOVERY OF THE EUROPEAN AND GLOBAL ECONOMY: THE 1970S AND 1980S

Interdependence is a form of dependency, and the expansion of the global economy after

the Second World War made each country more vulnerable to events in distant places. In

1974, after two and a half decades of spectacular growth, the European economic boom

came to an abrupt end. Signs of economic slowdown and infl ationary pressures were

already visible in the late 1960s, and recession might have occurred in any event, but it

was the oil embargo growing out of the Arab-Israeli war in the autumn of 1973 that pre-

cipitated the crisis.

Oil had replaced coal as a major source of energy. Readily available at low prices,

it came primarily from the vast reserves of the Middle East and was transported easily

and economically into Europe by tanker through the Persian Gulf and Suez Canal. The

major international oil companies, mostly American, for a long time controlled prices and

production, and purchasers paid for the oil in dollars. The Western economies had come

to depend on cheap oil. In 1960, 14 of the oil-exporting countries in the

Middle East, Africa, and Latin America formed the Organization of Petro-

leum Exporting Countries (or OPEC) to curb the monopoly concessions

enjoyed by foreign companies and to assume a larger share of authority

over production and prices.

Within OPEC the Arab states of the Middle East were the most assertive. The oil

issue turned intensely political during the Arab-Israeli war of October 1973 when the

Arab oil-producing states embargoed the shipment of oil to states accused of supporting

Israel. The OPEC cartel cut back production and quadrupled oil prices. Apprehension

spread in western Europe, Japan, and the United States, which needed foreign oil to

supplement its domestic resources. Never had an essential commodity risen in price so

rapidly; the entire global industrial complex seemed vulnerable. The oil shortage and the

price escalation, coming on the heels of the international monetary diffi culties and

devaluations of the dollar in 1971–1973, sharply increased the balance of payment defi -

cits for all oil-importing countries, undermined currencies, accelerated an infl ationary

spiral already underway, and seriously interrupted the spectacular growth of the West

European economies.

The immediate panic caused by the oil embargo passed, but prices

remained at a much higher level. Later in the decade, in 1979, a second oil

crisis occurred when Iran, in the midst of its revolution, halted oil exports

and the OPEC cartel again doubled prices. Eventually, however, the oil

cartel proved less cohesive and intimidating than originally feared. Additional energy

resources became available within Europe itself, easing some of the dependence on Mid-

dle Eastern oil imports. After the discovery of oil in the North Sea, Britain and Norway

became exporters of oil. The Netherlands and other countries turned to natural gas; France,

to nuclear energy. Many European countries also initiated energy conservation measures,

OPEC

Dependence on oil

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971113. Collapse and Recovery of the European and Global Economy: The 1970s and 1980s

but frequent fl uctuations in oil prices continued to affect Europe’s economy and political

relations with the oil-producing Arab states.

The Recession: Stagnation and Infl ation

The recession that began in 1974 was severe, although it never approximated the depths of

the Great Depression. What set it apart from previous economic declines was the accompa-

nying infl ation, which raced on in major industrial countries at double-digit annual fi gures.

In some European countries the annual rate of infl ation rose to over 20 percent; it

reached 27 percent in Britain in 1975. In the United States prices doubled over the course

of the decade, thus reshaping trade on both sides of the Atlantic. For a time

economic growth ground to a standstill in western Europe. By the late 1970s

the recession was worldwide. Bankruptcies shook several countries; pro-

duction declined; economic growth slowed or even halted. Over 10 percent

of the West European labor force were unemployed.

The economic troubles were somewhat cushioned for the unemployed in industrial

countries. Labor unions were still active, although declining in membership and infl uence,

and welfare benefi ts were more advanced than they had been in the 1930s. Workers in

Essen, Turin, Liverpool, or Lyon could count on severance pay, trade union benefi ts, and

government unemployment compensation far beyond the welfare payments and dole of

earlier generations. These benefi ts reduced human suffering and also lim-

ited the decline in consumer purchasing power. The recession, however,

aggravated the problem of “structural unemployment.” Because of automa-

tion, high technology, and the dwindling importance of older, less-effi cient

sectors (such as coal mining, shipbuilding, and other so-called smokestack

industries), many workers would never return to their old jobs or use their old skills again;

and labor unrest spread into many of the European industries in which earlier generations

of workers had built up strong unions.

Effects of recession

Structural

unemployment

New economic problems in the mid-1970s led to the restructuring of older Euro- pean industries, rising unemployment, and high infl ation. Facing the loss of jobs and the stagnation of wages, labor unions responded with strikes and other protests such as this “litter assault” on the Champs Élysées by striking Parisian newspaper workers. These kinds of actions brought public attention to the workers’ griev- ances, though this particular protest clearly ignored the environmental con- cerns that were also developing in this era. (Hulton Archive/Getty Images)

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Chapter 24 Coexistence, Confrontation, and the New European Economy972

The combination of stagnation and infl ation (dubbed “stagfl ation” by

journalists) created unprecedented problems for governments. Keynesian

theory, which had gained a wide following in Europe after 1945, called for

government spending and defi cit fi nancing in slow times to buoy demand and keep

employment stable. With infl ation rampant, such measures became questionable. The

dilemma centered on whether curbing infl ation or reducing unemployment should claim

the highest priority. Efforts to fi ght infl ation by tight money and high interest rates would

discourage investment, aggravate the business slowdown, and swell the ranks of the unem-

ployed. Government spending to prime the pump or reducing interest rates to facilitate

private borrowing could feed infl ation.

With the American economy troubled, the western European industrial countries

looked to the Federal Republic of Germany and its powerful economy and trade surpluses

to take the lead in expanding investment and production. Germany, however, mindful of

the hyperinfl ation of the 1920s, set its highest priority on controlling infl ation; it kept inter-

est rates high and rejected expansionist policies. Other countries followed the same track.

By the early 1980s infl ation was brought under control in the United States and in western

Europe, but in Europe unemployment continued at levels unheard of in the early postwar

decades. The high unemployment put new pressures on government budgets, which had

risen steadily in all the “welfare state” societies of the industrial world.

From 1950 to the mid-1970s the percentage of gross national product spent on social

measures in the industrial countries had more than doubled, creating a pattern of rising

taxes and government expenditures that came to be criticized as an obstacle

to economic growth.

The established tenets of Keynesian economics were now challenged

as never before. The British Conservative Party leader Margaret Thatcher,

who became prime minister in 1979, gained international prominence by

leading a campaign against the welfare state that had developed in Britain since the Second

World War. She attacked the welfare state as costly, wasteful, paternalistic, and bureau-

cratic and blamed it for eroding individual initiative and responsibility. Nationalized

industries and some public services also came under criticism from Thatcher and other

European conservatives.

Although conservative governments in Britain and elsewhere continued to make sig-

nifi cant expenditures for national defense, they sought to curb government spending on

social measures. Meanwhile to stimulate production they offered numerous

incentives to private enterprise, including tax reductions, deregulation, and

restraints on unions that interfered with technological innovation. “Supply

side” economics, as these ideas were labeled by conservative economists

in the United States, emphasized increased production rather than the hitherto prevailing

notion of increased consumer demand as most important for economic growth. The results

were then expected to “trickle down” for everyone’s benefi t, with a safety net in place for

the truly disadvantaged.

The gradual return of prosperity in the 1980s reinforced faith in the free-market econ-

omy, despite uneasiness about the continuing vicissitudes of the business cycle. Conserva-

tive economic theories and policies appeared to be confi rmed by a worldwide movement

toward market economies and away from centralized planning, which in its rigidly Marxist

form had manifestly failed in the Soviet Union and eastern Europe. Defenders of the Euro-

pean welfare state systems, however, continued to stress the importance of supplement-

ing market economies with direct action by governments to manage business cycles, help

Stagfl ation

Faith in Keynes

shaken

Supply side economics

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973113. Collapse and Recovery of the European and Global Economy: The 1970s and 1980s

unemployed workers, and provide essential health care. The welfare, or interventionist, state

still served important social needs and seemed destined to survive, even if in modifi ed form.

A new generation of liberal, labor, and socialist leaders came to preach the virtues of a “new

middle way” that leaned heavily on market economies as the key to economic growth but

without surrendering the prerogatives of government in confronting the social and economic

problems of modern societies.

Economic and Political Change in Western Europe

Britain was especially hard hit by the recession of the 1970s. Of all the industrial nations, it

suffered the highest rate of infl ation. Unemployment climbed, and the pound dropped to a

new low in global fi nancial markets. The trade unions refused to accept the sacrifi ces that

even their own Labour Party believed necessary to revive the economy, and disruptive

strikes in coal and transportation exasperated much of the country. Radical factions in the

Labour Party pressed for increased nationalization of industry and for nonalignment in the

Cold War. Alienated by the economic confusion and changing social conditions in British

society, which they blamed on Labour governments that had been in power since 1974, the

voters in 1979 turned to the Conservatives, who now resolved to change the welfare state.

Margaret Thatcher, the fi rst woman prime minister in any major West-

ern country, immediately and decisively cut government expenditures,

reduced imports, and resisted trade union wage demands. The focus of gov-

ernment policies shifted to investment, productivity, and economic growth.

Infl ation was curbed, but unemployment rose. The Thatcher government in its early years

seemed headed for political trouble, but in 1982 Thatcher stirred old patriotic and impe-

rial memories by dispatching a small armada 8,000 miles to the coast of South America,

thwarting the attempted takeover of the Falkland (or Malvina) Islands by Argentina. The

Conservatives won a sweeping parliamentary majority the following year.

Margaret Thatcher

Conservatives sought to reduce or dismantle vari- ous social programs of the modern welfare state after they came to power in the 1980s. British Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher was the best- known European advocate for the reduction of government participation in domestic economic life, though she favored higher government expen- ditures for military forces. She is shown here in 1985 with President Ronald Reagan, her close American political ally who was attending a meet- ing with Thatcher and other government leaders in Germany. (Apesteguy/Gamma-Rapho via Getty Images)

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Chapter 24 Coexistence, Confrontation, and the New European Economy974

For a time in the 1980s the Thatcher policies were successful in implementing the

main Conservative goals. The government curtailed the power of the unions, returned

over one-third of the nationalized industries to private enterprise, and made credit more

readily available for business and for home buyers. Britain could soon point to the high-

est economic growth rate of all the European countries, rising productivity, low infl ation,

a stronger pound, a higher standard of living for most people, widened home ownership,

and buoyant self-confi dence. Unemployment, however, remained high; fi scal retrench-

ment hurt education, especially the universities; and pockets of deep depression

persisted, especially in the north of England and in Scotland and Wales, where traditional

industries such as coal mining and shipbuilding faced diffi culties competing in the new

global economy. The south and southeast enjoyed a bustling prosperity, particularly in

the high-technology industries around London and Cambridge. Meanwhile London rein-

forced its position as a world fi nancial center, and the United Kingdom became once

again a leading creditor nation. Decades of economic decline and demoralization seemed

to have been reversed. The opposition was disunited and in disarray. In the elections of

1987, Labour’s popular vote dropped to its lowest point in decades, and union member-

ship declined.

But when economic growth slowed and the initial stimulus of privatization and dereg-

ulation wore off, Thatcher introduced a number of fi scal measures that led to her fall in

1990. Her successor as prime minister, John Major, had to cope with a new recession that

set in after 1990, a weakened pound, and persistent unemployment. Labour, meanwhile,

under new leadership that abandoned older ideas of class struggle and attracted a broad

range of middle-class support, continued to challenge the Conservatives, arguing that the

Thatcher era had favored the rich and fostered a less equitable society.

Finally, under the moderate “New Labour” leadership of Tony Blair, the

Labour Party won the parliamentary elections in 1997 and regained control

of the government for the fi rst time since 1979. Blair and the increasingly

moderate Labour Party would remain in power on into the opening decade of the twenty-

fi rst century, winning a third consecutive electoral victory in 2005 and seeking to promote

a “middle way” between earlier welfare state policies and the free-market policies of the

Thatcher era.

In France, politics in the 1980s veered toward the Left. An austerity program adopted

in the 1970s by the conservative parties to combat infl ation was unpopular, and the gov-

ernment’s aloofness, elitism, and seeming unconcern with social issues under de Gaulle’s

successors helped the Socialist-led opposition gain electoral strength. In 1981 François

Mitterrand became the fi rst Socialist president in the French Fifth Republic, thus achiev-

ing a long-sought goal he had set for himself and the Socialist party. Mitterrand had a

varied and complex career, some aspects of which were unknown until the last years

of his life, including his association with right-wing causes in the early 1930s and his

wartime service to the Vichy government before joining the Resistance Movement. He

was known as a moderate Socialist, whose socialism owed more to liberal idealism than

to Marxism. A consummate politician, he revitalized the Socialist Party

and reached out to many who chafed at the social insensitivities of the Gaul-

lists and Conservatives. “Changer la vie”—change life for everyone—was

his campaign slogan. Not only did he win the presidency, but his Socialist

Party triumphantly gained an absolute majority in the National Assembly.

Labor reforms were immediately introduced. The workweek was reduced from 40 to

39 hours and a fi fth week of annual paid vacation was added. Following up on the

New Labour

Mitterrand and

“Changer la vie”

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975113. Collapse and Recovery of the European and Global Economy: The 1970s and 1980s

nationalizations of 1945, Mitterrand nationalized the remaining large banks as well as sev-

eral leading industrial corporations. One of the few European leaders still faithful to

Keynesian precepts in the 1980s, Mitterrand rejected the kind of deregulation and free-

market philosophy that Thatcher was advocating in Britain. He expected government

pump priming and labor reforms to raise purchasing power, stimulate the economy, and

thus absorb the costs of the expanded welfare state. But increased labor costs reduced

French competitiveness abroad, and private investment also dried up. The immediate con-

sequences were slow economic growth, trade defi cits, infl ation, unemployment, and a

weakening franc. Within two years Mitterrand abruptly changed course. He halted further

nationalization and other reforms, insisted on retrenchment and austerity to cope with

infl ation, and placed a strong emphasis on modernization. Cutting off subsidies to decay-

ing industries, he shifted government support to high technology. The new policies encour-

aged economic growth but contributed little to reducing unemployment. Many of his

Socialist followers became disenchanted and frustrated. Others in the country, however,

were relieved to see him turning away from state-oriented economic policies and also tak-

ing a more “centrist” approach to social and political issues.

Renewed economic problems, however, cost the Socialist Party popular support. It

lost its parliamentary majority in 1986 and Mitterrand was forced to govern with a Con-

servative prime minister. The term “cohabitation” entered the political lan-

guage to signify a popularly elected president of one party governing with

a prime minister who represented the opposing parliamentary majority. It

was a precedent that de Gaulle never foresaw. But as an established prac-

tice that was repeated over the years to come, it became a legacy of Mitterrand that demon-

strated the resiliency of the Fifth Republic. In the Gaullist tradition, however, the president

continued to determine defense and foreign policy.

When in 1988 Mitterrand was reelected president, the Socialists regained a small plu-

rality in the National Assembly. But unemployment, scandals involving Socialist min-

isters, and inroads by environmental and other groups led to a socialist rout in 1993 and

the return of a large conservative majority. Cohabitation resumed under the conservative

Gaullist Prime Minister Jacques Chirac, who was then elected to the presidency in the

elections of 1995 and 2002, and the seesaw pattern of French politics continued in his

administration. Although the French economy strengthened impressively in the 1990s,

unemployment remained a persistent problem, especially for young people. A growing

political movement on the Far Right, the National Front, attracted disaffected voters who

blamed French economic problems on the nation’s growing immigrant population. The

leader of the National Front, Jean-Marie Le Pen, became a prominent fi gure in French

political culture and even reached the fi nal round of voting in the presidential election

of 2002. Meanwhile, in response to the ongoing problems of unemployment, a Social-

ist prime minister, Lionel Jospin, secured passage of a new labor law that reduced the

workweek in France from 39 to 35 hours to create new jobs. The measure met with strong

opposition from most employers, but it exemplifi ed ongoing attempts to deal with struc-

tural problems in the economy. During these same years, there were also new attempts to

enhance the position of women in French public life. Women played a much larger role in

French government and public institutions than ever before, occupying key ministries and

high-level posts in business and professional life. A new law, implemented in stages after

2000, provided that women were to be candidates in elections for representative bodies in

equal numbers with men. A few women writers and scholars were even admitted to the

French Academy, a male bastion since 1635.

“Cohabitation”

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Chapter 24 Coexistence, Confrontation, and the New European Economy976

Socialists and Social Democrats holding offi ce in western Europe in

these years championed modernization, market economies, and economic

growth as the path to the good society; and their policies often won broad

support, even as conservatives increasingly pushed for changes in the eco-

nomic policies of the welfare states. Moderation and pragmatism succeeded in overshad-

owing if not entirely replacing older Marxist ideologies. Helmut Schmidt, the Social

Democratic chancellor in West Germany from 1974 to 1982, was one leading exemplar. In

Italy, Bettino Craxi and a Socialist coalition in 1983 ended the long tenure of the Christian

Democrats, who had formed 40 consecutive cabinets since 1945. The Italian Socialists

governed for an unprecedented four years but were barely distinguishable in policies and

practices from the long-entrenched Christian Democratic establishment. In Spain the pop-

ular Socialist Party leader, Felipe Gonzalez, in 1982 headed the fi rst Left government since

the Spanish Civil War of the 1930s and governed on into the mid-1990s. In Portugal, after

the revolutionary turbulence of 1974, a Socialist and a Social Democratic Party competed

with each other on moderate platforms.

In West Germany Helmut Schmidt’s Social Democratic government moved to con-

trol infl ation through policies of retrenchment and fi scal conservatism, but the industrial

slowdown of the late 1970s brought unemployment to a country that for years had known

only labor scarcity. Even after recovery, unemployment persisted at about 8 percent.

West European

Socialists

French workers, like workers in all the major industrial countries of Europe, were increas- ingly drawn from the immigrant communities that grew rapidly during the later decades of the twentieth century. These workers, who were protesting working conditions at a French automobile factory in 1982, represent some of the diverse ethnic and cultural origins of the contemporary French workforce. (Richard Melloul/Sygma/Corbis)

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977113. Collapse and Recovery of the European and Global Economy: The 1970s and 1980s

The doors once open to guest workers began to close; bonuses were offered to those who

would return home; activist reactionary groups (as in Britain, France, and Austria) alarm-

ingly exploited anti-immigrant and antiforeign sentiment. In 1982 the Christian Demo-

crats were returned to offi ce with Helmut Kohl as chancellor, who would remain in offi ce

for the next 16 years. Economic growth resumed, although at more modest rates, and the

mark maintained itself as one of the world’s strongest currencies. The German Federal

Republic remained the most productive nation in western Europe, accounting for a third of

the combined output of the EC. But heavy labor costs, resulting from high wages and gen-

erous social benefi ts, burdened the economy and reduced its competitiveness in world

markets until the late 1990s—when the Germans brought more fl exibility

into their labor practices and wage system. Meanwhile the prospects in the

1980s for reunifi cation of the two Germanys still seemed remote—

Germany would apparently remain “one nation and two states,” in Willy

Brandt’s phrase.

The Enlarged European Community: Problems and Opportunities

After de Gaulle passed from the political scene in 1969, the way had opened for enlarging

the six-nation EC. In 1973 Britain, Denmark, and Ireland were admitted; the 6 became 9.

In the next decade, with the admission of Greece in 1981 and Spain and Portugal in 1986,

the 9 became 12. In 1995, with the admission of Austria, Finland, and Sweden, the num-

bers grew to 15. The largest expansion made possible by momentous changes in eastern

Europe after 1989 and by the collapse of Soviet communism, would take place at the

beginning of the twenty-fi rst century, in 2004, when 10 more nations from eastern and

southern Europe (from Estonia to Malta) joined what had come to be known as the Euro-

pean Union (EU). 1 Other states came into the EU during the next decade, so that by the

second decade of the twenty-fi rst century there were 28 members and several more candi-

dates for admission.

Expansion of the European Union brought new diffi culties, aggravated

by the economic slowdown of the 1970s and then by the wage differentials

between richer and poorer countries. A food importer, Britain objected to

the “common agricultural policy” agreed upon in 1968, whereby countries such as France

and Italy received large subsidies for their farmers, whose products were withheld from

the open market and stored at great expense to keep prices artifi cially high. The admission

of the less industrially advanced southern Mediterranean states in the 1980s (and of eastern

nations in the early twenty-fi rst century) introduced serious regional differences in wages

and government budgets. Despite the original promise and accomplishments of the Com-

munity as a whole, the free trading area remained far from complete. Countries still placed

quotas on agricultural imports; France kept out Italian wines. Burdensome administrative

regulations at some borders persisted amid the general development of a transnational

economy.

“One nation and two

states”

Growing pains

1 By 2013 the EU member states were Austria, Belgium, Bulgaria, Croatia, Cyprus, Czech Republic,

Denmark, Estonia, Finland, France, Germany, Greece, Hungary, Ireland, Italy, Latvia, Lithuania, Luxembourg,

Malta, Netherlands, Poland, Portugal, Romania, Slovakia, Slovenia, Spain, Sweden, and the United Kingdom.

There was also a continuing debate over the question of whether Turkey would eventually become a member of

the EU.

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Chapter 24 Coexistence, Confrontation, and the New European Economy978

Except for a limited circle of Europeanists, the enthusiasm for close political integra-

tion seemed to have dimmed. With enlargement and greater diversity, the Community

became even more intergovernmental and less supranational. Britain was always reluctant

to support additional supranational authority for the Community. In periods of economic

slowdown and monetary instability the national governments themselves had to cope with

the problems. In 1973 the government leaders began meeting as a council on a regular

basis, the presidency rotating among the member states. The fi rst elections to the European

Parliament in 1979 were more symbolic than substantial, and the Parliament’s role as a

legislature failed to grow signifi cantly. While the more ambitious dream of a United States

of Europe went unrealized, the Community, for all its problems, remained an important

institution, poised for further growth.

Toward a “Single Europe”: The European Union

Even during the prosperous 1960s, the European economy did not maintain its growth in all

areas. But in the 1970s the Europeans entered a new phase of industrialism, a “third indus-

trial revolution,” marked by the introduction of automation, computers, and other forms of

advanced technology. Progress would no longer be measured in coal and steel or in ships

and textiles but in nuclear reactors, microelectronics, telecommunications, computers,

robotics, and space technology. In the “postindustrial” age data processing, information

storage and retrieval, and more sophisticated communications capabilities were the keys to

competitive success. In 1977 the fi rst personal computer was produced for what would

soon become a mass market, with rapid improvements to follow in speed

and capacity. More workers were employed in the service sector than in the

older basic industries, and the service economy was growing faster than

either agriculture or industry. It was widely noted that the global economy

The postindustrial

age

Although skeptics questioned and resisted the growing integration of the European Union (EU), most political leaders continued to promote a more unifi ed European economy and culture. Ger- man Chancellor Helmut Kohl, for example, visited Strasbourg, France in 1986 to give a speech on European unity and to honor Robert Schuman—a leading French architect of the post-1945 trans- national cooperation. Schuman’s portrait and an EU pennant were placed behind Kohl to affi rm the themes of his speech. (STF/AFP/Getty Images)

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979113. Collapse and Recovery of the European and Global Economy: The 1970s and 1980s

was eroding the economic and political autonomy of the nation-state. Using new technolo-

gies, the multinational corporations of the industrial world invested capital and set up shop

across the globe, independent of all national boundaries; and this new global production

system weakened Europe’s competitive position in many of its traditional industries.

In the new forms of technology, the Europeans found themselves for a time outdis-

tanced by the Americans and the Japanese. American multinational corporations con-

trolled most of the high-technology industries in Europe—before the Japanese arrived to

compete. Trade competition from Japan and the rapidly developing industrial countries of

the Pacifi c Rim posed new economic challenges for all national governments and for most

of Europe’s major commercial institutions. The post-1974 recession made it diffi cult for

the Europeans to promote research and development. Western Europe lagged behind

other parts of the world in recovering economically after 1974 or in coping with

unemployment.

The EC set about to reinvigorate itself in the 1980s. Although internal tariffs had dis-

appeared, nontariff obstacles still impeded the fl ow of trade. Nationally dictated, and

therefore varying, standards of production and quality prevailed. In 1987,

by the “Single European Act” the 12 member-nations agreed to establish

common production standards, remove impediments to the fl ow of capital,

seek uniform tax rates, recognize each other’s professional and commercial

licensing, and honor a common charter of labor rights. They would create

an integrated “single Europe,” a “Europe without borders.” A unifi ed European currency

and central banking system were projected for the end of the 1990s, and even a common

The Single European

Act

CHRONOLOGY OF NOTABLE EVENTS, 1957–1995

1957 Soviet Union launches fi rst satellite into outer space

1961 Soviet Union constructs the Berlin Wall to stop exodus from East Germany

1962 United States compels the withdrawal of Soviet missiles from Cuba

1968 Protests spread across Europe in response to the American war in Vietnam

1968 Soviet troops enter Czechoslovakia to crush reform movement in Prague

1974 High oil prices and infl ation contribute to European and global economic recession

1979 Margaret Thatcher becomes prime minister in Britain; introduces Conservative reforms

1979 Soviet Union invades Afghanistan to protect a left-wing regime

1981 François Mitterrand becomes president of France; introduces Socialist reforms

1982 Helmut Kohl becomes chancellor of West Germany

1983 Protests in western Europe against deployment of new intermediate-range nuclear

weapons on European bases

1987 Ronald Reagan and Mikhail Gorbachev reach a U.S.-Soviet agreement to withdraw

intermediate-range nuclear weapons from Europe

1992 Treaty of Maastricht establishes the European Union (EU)

1995 EU expands to include 15 nations, creating a foundation for further expansion in the

early twenty-fi rst century

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Chapter 24 Coexistence, Confrontation, and the New European Economy980

defense and foreign policy were envisaged for the future. These arrangements were con-

fi rmed in a Treaty of European Union signed at Maastricht in the Netherlands at the close

of 1991, and ratifi ed after protracted debate by the parliaments or electorates of the mem-

ber states by the end of 1992. Opponents in several countries raised objections to the loss

of national control in so many areas, but the treaty was adopted. The EC became the EU.

The way was open to closer integration.

The EU represented a domestic market of 345 million people (one-third larger than

that of the United States) and by the early 1990s was the largest trading bloc in the global

economy, accounting for 40 percent of all international trade. With the new steps toward

integration and the later expansion of EU membership, Europeans hoped to enlarge

investment, develop high technology, stimulate productivity, end the lag-

ging rate of economic growth, and reduce an unemployment rate that was

still distressingly high. In the world as a whole, a return to protectionism

was always a lurking international danger for Europe’s increasingly inte-

grated commercial system. Advocates of tariffs on imported goods could

Dangers of

protectionism

The Treaty on European Union, which was signed by twelve nations in the Dutch city of Maas- tricht in 1992, became the key statement of EU policies on government budgets, national debts, the new European currency, and other economic and legal issues. This voter was among those who encountered the arguments for and against EU policies in France, where a contentious referendum on ratifi cation of the Maastricht agreements led to a narrow approval in Septem- ber 1992. (François Xavier Marit/AFP/Getty Images)

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981114. The Cold War Rekindled and Defused

be found in most industrial nations, and the industrial nations might divide into large

regional trading blocs. New competitive barriers could thus threaten the free trade that

had contributed so much to post-1945 prosperity. Meanwhile, there were growing con-

cerns about the effects of “globalization” on the industrial and agricultural economies

within Europe itself.

114. THE COLD WAR REKINDLED AND DEFUSED

We must go back in time to pick up the fl ow of international affairs that continued to

infl uence European politics and cultures. The election of Jimmy Carter to the presi-

dency of the United States brought a new moral idealism to American foreign policy

after 1977. Carter declared that human rights must be “the soul of our foreign policy”

and linked détente more closely to progress on this issue in the Soviet

Union and eastern Europe. The theme of human rights had also become

a key issue for many Europeans in the years after the Helsinki agree-

ments of 1975. The Americans proposed, for example, that economic aid

would be forthcoming only if the Soviets permitted freedom to dissent-

ers, the right of emigration for Soviet Jews and others, and an end to the coercion of

Poland. The Soviets did not take kindly to these public pressures. Both the Americans

and the Soviets meanwhile reinforced their military and nuclear strength, even as they

negotiated a new strategic arms treaty. But before the new treaty could

be ratifi ed by the United States Senate, the Soviet Union moved troops

into the neighboring state of Afghanistan to bolster a weak pro-Soviet

leftist regime. It was the fi rst Soviet military intervention of that kind

outside eastern Europe, and it was widely denounced on both sides of

the Atlantic.

Carter condemned the Soviet invasion, withdrew the arms treaty from the Senate,

embargoed sales of grain and high technology to the Soviets, took measures to increase the

military budget, and set up procedures at home for a renewal of the draft.

The invasion of Afghanistan, Carter informed the U.S.S.R., was the most serious

threat to world peace since 1945. The European allies, however, were not as con-

vinced. Some Europeans argued that the Afghanistan episode was a regional matter,

that the Soviet Union was acting to prevent instability on its borders, and that détente

should continue. Unwilling to disturb commercial relations with the Soviets and east-

ern Europe, they refused to support the economic embargo, which, among other conse-

quences, would have interfered with the completion of a Soviet natural gas pipeline to

western Europe. As it developed, Afghanistan turned out to be the U.S.S.R.’s Vietnam.

Some 100,000 Soviet troops fought for more than 8½ years before withdrawing igno-

miniously in 1989. Like the Americans in Vietnam, the Soviets were unable to use

their overwhelming military power to defeat the Muslim guerrillas who, armed with

American weapons and supported by Pakistan, fought stubbornly from their Afghan

mountain strongholds.

In the midst of these expanding international tensions (which included the Iranian

Revolution and hostage crisis), the new Republican president, Ronald Rea-

gan, came to offi ce in the United States and affi rmed his commitment to

a hard line in the Cold War. The Soviet Union, Reagan asserted in 1983,

represented “the focus of evil in the modern world.” It was “an evil empire”

with “dark purposes.” Despite the strain on its economy, the Soviet Union

Human rights

Soviet invasion of

Afghanistan

Reagan and the “evil

empire”

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Chapter 24 Coexistence, Confrontation, and the New European Economy982

Historical Interpretations and Debates

The Nature and Legacy of the Cold War

Europeans emerged from the devastating human and material losses of the Second World War in a weakened position between the ascendant American and Soviet superpowers. The competing ambitions of the United States and the Soviet Union often played out after 1945 on the European continent as both sides developed spheres of infl uence and also used their European bases in the NATO and Warsaw Pact countries as a front line in their global military strategies. After several decades of confl ict and confrontation, however, the Soviet system in eastern Europe collapsed, creating a sense of triumph in the Western countries and opening new opportunities for the increasingly unifi ed European economy. Compare the views of Eric Hobsbawm and John Lamberton Harper as they explain how the Cold War affected Europeans and why the Western powers ultimately prevailed.

Eric Hobsbawm, The Age of Extremes: A History of the World, 1914 –1991 (1994) The peculiarity of the Cold War was that,

speaking objectively, no imminent danger of

world war existed. More than this: in spite

of the apocalyptic rhetoric on both sides, . . .

the governments of both the superpowers

accepted the global distribution of force at

the end of the Second World War. . . .

Once the USSR acquired nuclear

weapons . . . both superpowers plainly

abandoned war as an instrument of policy

against one another, since it was the

equivalent of a suicide pact. . . .

All Western European governments . . .

were without exception wholeheartedly

anti-communist, and determined to protect

themselves against possible Soviet military

attack. . . . . Yet [fear of] the “communist

world conspiracy” was not a serious part

of the domestic politics of any of those

who had some claim to being political

democracies. . . .

However, the effect of the Cold

War on the international politics of

Europe was more striking than on the

Continent’s domestic politics. It created

the “European Community” with all its

problems; an entirely unprecedented

form of political organization, namely a

permanent . . . arrangement to integrate

the economies, and to some extent the

legal systems, of a number of independent

nation-states. . . .

John Lamberton Harper, The Cold War (2011). The Cold War was a competition between

social-economic systems that regarded

each other as natural enemies. Each side’s

ideology, or secular religion, conditioned its

choice of friends and determined its basic

objectives: safeguarding and advancing

capitalism and democracy, on one hand;

protecting and expanding Communism, on

the other. Each side espoused a directional

and messianic view of history, believing its

cause would prevail. . . .

In its central theater [in Europe], the

confl ict was a total mismatch. Thanks to the

way World War II ended, most of the rich,

industrially advanced regions of Europe fell

into the Western sphere. The EEC’s founding

members were the main benefi ciaries of the

US-Soviet confrontation as well as important

protagonists of the eventual Western victory.

Thanks partly to U.S. aid and protection,

they recovered quickly, developed generous

welfare systems, and pursued a successful

strategy of integration. . . .

In the 1980s Western Europe

restructured industry and embarked

on a new round of integration. Central

and Eastern Europe’s per capita GDP

was 51 percent (on average) of Western

Europe’s in 1950; 47 percent in 1973; a

mere 40 percent in 1989. By then, countless

Eastern Europeans, including once-loyal

Communists, were ready to reinvent

themselves as capitalists. . . .

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983114. The Cold War Rekindled and Defused

Eric Hobsbawm . . . (contd . . . .) The “Community” was, like so many

other things in post-1945 Europe, created

both by and against the USA. It illustrates

both the power and ambiguity of that country

and its limits; but it also illustrates the

strength of the fears that held the anti-Soviet

alliance together. . . .

[E]ven though the USA was unable to

impose its politico-economic plans on the

Europeans in detail, it was strong enough to

dominate their international behavior. The

policy of the alliance against the USSR was

the USA’s, and so were its military plans.

John Lamberton Harper . . . (contd . . . .) [T]he West won the contest partly

because the playing fi eld was always tilted

in its favor, and the United States shared

the laurels . . . with Europe. . . . A degree of

Western triumphalism was understandable in

1989–90. But a clear look back on the Cold

War battlegrounds, along with a sense of

relief that the world survived forty-fi ve years

of confrontation, evokes feelings of humility

and regret.

Sources: Eric Hobsbawm, The Age of Extremes: A History of the World , 1914–1991 (New York: Pantheon, 1994), pp. 226, 229, 236–237, 239–241; John Lamberton Harper, The Cold War (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2011), pp. 244–246, 250.

during the 1970s had built up its military strength, modernized its conventional fi ghting

forces, created a powerful navy, and achieved nuclear parity. With congressional support

Reagan substantially increased defense appropriations, sponsored the largest peacetime

military spending in American history, and took a confrontational stand against commu-

nism everywhere. He stepped up arms shipments to the Muslim guerrillas in Afghani-

stan and sent aid to Pakistan, which was backing the Afghan rebels. Reagan also favored

strong anti-Communist actions in Europe. Against the Communist government in Poland

he applied economic sanctions when, under pressure from the Soviets, it imposed martial

law in 1981 to suppress the Solidarity trade union movement. He reinforced the embargo

on the sale of high technology to the Soviets and to eastern Europe, but the embargo on

grain sales was dropped because of opposition from American farmers. Yet Reagan would

also move gradually toward his own policies of détente and negotiation with the Soviet

Union during the later years of his presidency.

Nuclear Arms Control

No nuclear weapons were used in any confl ict in the years after 1945, yet

over every crisis hung the ultimate threat of a nuclear clash. We have seen

how the earliest negotiations on nuclear disarmament, at a time when the

United States alone possessed the atomic bomb, were broken off in 1947; how in 1949

the Soviets successfully tested their fi rst atomic bomb, ending the American monopoly;

and how the United States in 1952 and the Soviet Union shortly thereafter developed the

hydrogen or thermonuclear bomb, which by its chain reaction had vastly more destructive

capacity than the mere 20,000 tons of TNT of the Hiroshima bomb. By the 1960s both

superpowers were building strategic long-range missiles, that is, intercontinental ballistic

missiles, capable of delivering their nuclear warheads accurately and swiftly to targets in

each other’s homeland.

The ultimate threat

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Chapter 24 Coexistence, Confrontation, and the New European Economy984

The arms experts insisted that nuclear arms were increasingly built

for deterrence rather than for use in an intercontinental war. The interna-

tional balance of power came to be described as a “balance of terror,” and

military strategists referred to “mutually assured destruction” (the acro-

nym for which, ironically, was MAD). Deterrence became the accepted formula.

Although Britain and France had developed their own nuclear weapons by the early

1960s, and the People’s Republic of China also became a nuclear power in that era, the

arms race developed mainly in the competition of the American and Soviet superpowers.

Europeans lived between the two great nuclear forces, but they could only be worried

spectators as the superpowers on each side amassed huge stockpiles of arms, capable of

destroying each other and Europe many times over, in what was described as “overkill.”

When the Soviets developed antiballistic defense missiles, which undermined deterrence,

the United States responded by building its own defense system and more powerful

offensive weapons—such as the MIRV (a “multiple independently targeted reentry vehi-

cle”). The MIRV was a delivery system carrying up to 10 nuclear war-

heads, each guided to separate targets and each many times more powerful

than the Hiroshima bomb. Meanwhile, shorter-range missiles with nuclear

warheads were also deployed in Europe for use as possible strategic sup-

port in the event of a European land war. The Americans placed the

intermediate-range Pershing missiles in Germany, for example, and the Soviets placed

comparable nuclear weapons along the borders that divided the eastern and western Euro-

pean nations. For the fi rst time in its long history, the very survival of Europe rested in the

military hands of others.

By the 1980s each superpower possessed about 25,000 nuclear weapons, of which

roughly 12,000 on each side were strategic, that is, long-range, or intercontinental; but

many were also designed for shorter-range use in places such as the European borderlands.

Together the arsenals of the two major nuclear powers exceeded 500,000 megatons

(millions of tons) of explosive power, dwarfi ng the total explosive power used in all the

previous wars of human history. This was the context in which the American and Soviet

leaders began to rethink their strategic interests and to initiate new negotiations that would

also alter the “balance of terror” within Europe.

Early in the Reagan administration, in 1981, Soviet and American offi cials resumed

low-level talks on strategic arms limitations, but in an atmosphere of Cold War mis-

trust, suspicion, and continuing arms buildup. Especially disturbing for the western Euro-

pean and American governments was the deployment in eastern Europe of new Soviet

intermediate-range nuclear missiles capable of reaching a radius of 600 to 1,500 miles. As

the Soviets developed this new force in the late 1970s and early 1980s, the

United States joined with its European allies to reinforce existing defenses

in western Europe with a new generation of intermediate Pershing and

cruise missiles. These missiles were to serve as a new deterrent against

Soviet military action, but they were also deployed as a forceful encour-

agement for the Soviets to remove or reduce their own missiles from eastern Europe. The

construction of the new American missile sites set off mass antimissile protests in much

of western Europe and provoked a new European wave of post-Vietnam criticisms of

American military policies. The West European governments, however, remained fi rm

in their support of the new missiles, and the new weapons were installed at strategic

military bases.

MAD: Mutually

assured destruction

Overkill

New missiles and

European protests

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985114. The Cold War Rekindled and Defused

High-level arms negotiations between the Soviet and Western governments all but

ceased during the fi rst years of the Reagan presidency, in part because Soviet leaders such

as Leonid Brezhnev were ailing and in part because Western leaders such

as Reagan and Thatcher were not eager to negotiate with Communist

regimes. Beginning in 1985, however, the emergence of the new Soviet

leader Mikhail Gorbachev offered an opening for new negotiations on

nuclear weaponry. Unlike his predecessors, Gorbachev seemed to view

détente as a means to help the weak Soviet economy and as an essential

diplomatic process for avoiding catastrophe in the nuclear age. For his part, Reagan was

confi dent that American military strength would give the Americans and western Europe-

ans a stronger position from which to negotiate; and Reagan would ultimately hold four

summit meetings with Gorbachev in the later 1980s.

New arms

negotiations

The nuclear arms race evolved during the early 1980s as both the Soviets and Americans deployed new intermediate-range missiles within Europe. The new strategic weapons provoked deep concern among Europeans who feared that they could be caught in a devastating nuclear exchange between the opposing superpowers. The German protestors at this demonstration therefore represented a broader antimissile movement that spread across western Europe, but the new missiles were nevertheless installed. Later Soviet-U.S. negotiations, however, led to the removal of these weapons and the easing of Cold War tensions. (Jean Gaumy/Magnum Photos)

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Chapter 24 Coexistence, Confrontation, and the New European Economy986

At their third meeting, in December 1987, the American and Soviet leaders made a

remarkable breakthrough by consenting to remove the intermediate-range missiles that each

country had installed in Europe. Gorbachev also agreed to reduce the number

of short-range nuclear missiles; in fact, the Soviets were willing to destroy

over four times as many missiles as the United States. Even more unprece-

dented, the Soviets agreed to allow the United States to verify the destruction

of the weapons through on-site inspections. Negotiations for the further

reduction of long-range nuclear weapons would continue after Reagan left offi ce and would

lead fi nally to another strategic arms treaty in 1991, pledging each of the superpowers to

reduce its arsenal by about a third of its missiles.

All of these remarkable changes in the nuclear arms race altered the political and stra-

tegic context for the people of western and eastern Europe as well as for the Americans and

the Soviets. The international confl icts of the Cold War came to an end. Equally important

for Europeans, a new wave of political dissent gathered force in eastern Europe, leading

to the collapse of the Communist regimes, the free movement of people across formerly

rigid national boundaries, and the unexpected demise of the Soviet Union

itself. New problems emerged, of course, including ethnic and national vio-

lence in southeastern Europe; but the protracted European transition out

of the Second World War fi nally came to a close. The Cold War threat of

Communist expansion in Europe disappeared, providing new possibilities

for a more unifi ed Europe that would link the continent’s western and eastern nations in

new forms of commerce, cultural exchange, and political cooperation. The challenges of

“globalization” remained an ongoing problem for European economies, but the diminu-

tion of the nuclear arms race—which in the early 1980s had seemed to be only a remote

possibility—was soon followed by an equally unexpected upheaval across all of eastern

Europe in 1989.

Removal of missiles

End of Cold War

confl icts

For suggested further readings and useful Web sites, interactive exercises, glossary, chronologies,

and more, go to the Online Learning Center at www.mhhe.com/palmerhistory11e .

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987

C h a p t e r 25 THE INTERNATIONAL

REVOLT AGAINST

SOVIET COMMUNISM

Europeans  and most other people around the world were astonished in the mid-1980s to see

some of the basic structures of Soviet communism,

as they had evolved since the Russian Revolution

of 1917, begin to come apart. The transitions in

the Soviet Union also opened the way for other

extraordinary events, in 1989, in central and east-

ern Europe, where the existing Communist regimes

collapsed one by one and were replaced with virtu-

ally no violence. In an even more epochal event, in

1991, the Communist regime of the Soviet Union

itself came to an end after holding absolute power

for 74 years; and the U.S.S.R. disintegrated into Russia and its other component republics.

In a strict sense, if revolutions are defi ned as violent upheavals, there was no actual

revolution in 1989–1991. Indeed, it was a source of wonder and satisfaction that such

sweeping change could occur without armed struggle. The older regimes disappeared less

by explosion than by implosion—a breakup from within. The “revolution” of 1989 could

remain peaceful because (in contrast to the French Revolution of 1789) it faced no strong

internal resistance or threat of foreign intervention. Yet the upheavals were revolutionary

in that they demolished existing repressive authorities and brought abrupt, radical change.

They reasserted political ideals that were revolutionary when proclaimed in America in

1776, in France in 1789, throughout Europe in 1848, and in many of the anticolonial

movements after 1919 or 1945—ideals that were now called human rights and the prin-

ciples of a democratic civil society. These ideals had been incorporated into the American

Declaration of Independence and the French Declaration of the Rights of Man, and they

had become the guiding ideals for democracies in most of the modern world. Democracy

meant representative and constitutional government and freely contested elections; and

freedom and independence meant guarantees against repression by one’s own government

or dictatorial foreign rule. Such ideas were now invoked again to support the new political

revolutions of 1989, though the actual practice of democracy in post-Communist societies

(as in even the oldest democratic societies) often fell short of the professed ideals.

115. The Crisis in the Soviet

Union

116. The Collapse of

Communism in Central

and Eastern Europe

117. The Collapse of the Soviet

Union

118. After Communism

Chapter emblem: Germans destroying the Berlin Wall in November 1989. (Robert Wallis/Sipa Press)

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Chapter 25 The International Revolt Against Soviet Communism988

The Revolution of 1989 gave the people of central and eastern Europe a long-deferred

opportunity to decide their own destiny. With the collapse of the U.S.S.R. one of the two

superpowers that had dominated international affairs and a European sphere of infl uence

since 1945 abruptly disappeared. The Cold War, as the world had known it, came to an

end, even if Russia remained a large and important power. A new global and European

political era opened, leading to new challenges and frustrations, but also raising expecta-

tions and possibilities for a more peaceful international order.

115. THE CRISIS IN THE SOVIET UNION

Neither the transformation of central and eastern Europe nor of the Soviet Union could have

taken place as they did without the changes in the U.S.S.R. that began in 1985. It is not easy

to explain how the reformist Soviet leader Mikhail S. Gorbachev could rise to supreme

power from within the Soviet system of centralized control and one-party government.

The country was in dire straits, however, and the party leadership itself was desperately look-

ing for some way to revitalize the state’s political and economic policies. As a young man

Gorbachev studied at the university in Moscow and at the agricultural institute in Stavropol,

his home city in southwestern Russia. After working as an agricultural researcher, he

received a full-time party assignment in the region and came to the attention of Yuri V.

Andropov (soon to be the party general secretary) and other party leaders in Moscow. His

appointment to the party secretariat in Moscow in 1978, with special responsibility for agri-

culture, afforded him a privileged view of the country’s deep economic troubles. By 1980 he

was a member of the Politburo, and by 1984 he was being groomed by Andropov for top

party leadership. After the frustrating experience of an incapacitated Brezhnev clinging to

power and of Andropov and Konstantin U. Chernenko, his two successors, dying in offi ce

after only brief terms, the Politburo in March 1985 decided that it was time for a more force-

ful, younger leader. At 54, Gorbachev was by far its youngest member. Andrei Gromyko, for

many years foreign minister of the U.S.S.R., ultimately endorsed Gorbachev and is said to

have reassured those with doubts: “He has a nice smile but he has iron teeth.”

Gorbachev at once demonstrated a dynamism and vigor that had been absent from

recent Soviet leadership. His fi rst task was to convince the party and country that funda-

mental economic restructuring was needed to break a pervasive pattern of

economic stagnation. He called this restructuring perestroika, by which he meant a drastic modifi cation of the centrally planned command economy

inherited from Stalin and carried forward with only minor changes since.

However well the older system may have served the industrialization of the country, the

test of the Second World War, and the projects of postwar reconstruction, it was ill-suited

for the contemporary industrial world. Industry and agriculture urgently needed freedom

from restraints to release creative energies, provide incentives for productivity, introduce

new technologies, raise quality levels, and satisfy consumer needs. Gorbachev’s proposed

remedies included decentralization, self-management for industry and agriculture, an end

to the rigidity imposed by the party and government bureaucracy, and incentives for pro-

ductivity. He moved cautiously, believing that exhortation and a sense of urgency would

bring results, but his appeals and initial moderate reforms quickly clashed with the vested

interests of the entrenched Soviet bureaucrats.

For his economic restructuring to succeed, Gorbachev had to have the support of the

country, which he hoped to win through political change. Thus he also

called for glasnost, or “openness,” which he closely linked to economic reform. By glasnost he meant the right to voice the need for change, the

Perestroika

Glasnost

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989115. The Crisis in the Soviet Union

freedom to criticize the existing system, and the willingness to reexamine past mistakes

and wrongdoings. Even if this new openness originally had a more limited objective,

glasnost soon took on a dynamic of its own. It led to an unprecedented liberalization of Soviet society, a freer press, and an end to the decades of totalitarian control over political,

cultural, and intellectual life. The ferment that had been choked off after Khrushchev’s

brief “thaw” in the 1950s was reborn. Newspapers, theater, the arts, and political dis-

course opened up as at no time before. Books and plays written in the 1960s or earlier but

never permitted publication or performance made their appearance, including Pasternak’s

Dr. Zhivago and eventually even Solzhenitsyn’s Gulag Archipelago, the novel that gave the outside world a concise and widely used name for Stalin’s network of forced labor

camps. Gorbachev permitted the physicist Andrei Sakharov, a leading dissenter and com-

mitted opponent of the regime, to return to Moscow from exile and take an active part in

political life. Soviet Jews, who had earlier been refused permission to leave the country,

were now allowed to emigrate in larger numbers. The atmosphere changed visibly. People

became freer and less fearful. The legal codes were revised to encompass a measure of

civil liberties, allow freedom of expression, and reduce police abuses. The KGB itself came

under public and legislative scrutiny. Gorbachev even spoke of freedom of conscience and

tolerance for religion, negotiating a rapprochement with the Orthodox Church.

In 1987, on the very occasion of the 70th anniversary of the Bolshevik Revolution,

Gorbachev spoke publicly of “Stalin’s enormous and unforgivable crimes.” A monument

to Stalin’s victims was planned, while the press openly discussed their total number,

clearly in the tens of millions. New history textbooks were prepared, as well as a revised

history of the party. Gorbachev told the country that there should be “no forgotten names

or blanks in history or literature.”

Although Gorbachev did not challenge the role of the Communist Party as the directing

agent of Soviet society, he was clearly introducing changes that would curb its monopoly

on power. Remembering how Khrushchev had been dislodged after only a few years, he set

out to mobilize a wide popular base for himself. Reform could not simply be imposed from

above. The people, he said, needed more than a “good tsar.” Constitutional

reforms in 1988 created a new national legislature, and multicandidate

elections were to replace the traditional one-party slate of nominees. What

began as a technocratic vision of a more effi cient economy was moving the

country to a sweeping transformation of Soviet life and society.

In the freer atmosphere the government released long-suppressed information about

poor grain harvests, ineffi cient state enterprises, and nuclear accidents that had occurred

before the worst nuclear disaster at the Chernobyl power plant in 1986. At party meetings

and at the new Congress of People’s Deputies the public heard for the fi rst time outspoken

critiques of Soviet society: descriptions of poverty, corruption, crime, alcoholism, and

drugs; of serious shortcomings in medicine, health, and housing; of environmental decay.

Tens of millions, perhaps one-fi fth the population, lived in poverty.

Gorbachev soon recognized that the country’s economic problems were more intrac-

table than he had thought, but he persisted with his gradualist reform program. Private

enterprise and state industries were one day to be integrated into a market-based econ-

omy, linked to the outside world. Foreign capital for trade and investment and joint ven-

tures with foreign fi rms were to be welcomed. Soviet managers were encouraged to travel

abroad to learn advanced (sometimes elementary) business and accounting

practices. B ut many of these reforms remained paper decrees only; party

offi cials and government bureaucrats helped checkmate others. The older

economic system remained virtually unchanged. Gorbachev shrank from

Gorbachev’s

constitutional reforms

Limited economic

reforms

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Chapter 25 The International Revolt Against Soviet Communism990

moving more rapidly to a market-oriented competitive economy. His concerns about pain-

ful short-term dislocations and political unrest reinforced his commitment to reform rather

than abandon the older system in its entirety.

Gorbachev’s reforms in agriculture also fell far short of what was needed. Accepting

the existing structure of state and collective farms, which had been established in the

Stalinist era of the 1930s, he did little more than allow them greater managerial autonomy.

Production did not rise. Belatedly, he launched a more extensive agrarian policy to expand

the supply of food and other farm products. Farmers and farm families would be permitted

to work with state and collective farms on a share-crop basis, or farm their own land. They

could lease land for their lifetime and even bequeath this right to their children. But the

state remained the legal owner of the land, and little more than 1 percent of the land shifted

to private hands. The agrarian economy therefore continued to lag, forcing the government

to purchase food imports in global markets.

But the constitutional and political changes that Gorbachev had initi-

ated signifi cantly loosened the monopoly grip of the party. In March 1989

openly contested, multicandidate elections were held, the fi rst since 1917,

though well over half the seats were reserved for the party and various

state-sponsored associations. Voters elected a Congress of People’s Depu-

ties, which in turn chose a smaller standing legislative body to meet more frequently. Both

were empowered to initiate legislation and freely debate issues. In 1990, under another

constitutional reform, the Congress of People’s Deputies created a presidency with broad

executive powers modeled on the American and French examples. The Congress elected

Gorbachev president.

Gorbachev brought about stunning political changes, unprecedented in the years since

the revolution. Western political leaders in the era of the Great Depression had sought to

save capitalism by reforming it. Gorbachev was likewise bent on saving the Communist

system by reform. Yet the country remained divided and disoriented. It was torn between

the old guard, who resisted the Gorbachev changes, and a growing group of

democratic reformers in the central legislature and in the newly elected par-

liaments of the restless component republics who believed that Gorbachev

had not gone far enough in either political or economic matters. As time

went by, praise for his policies gave way to criticism for the continuing

dismal economic record; his indecisive, sometimes contradictory, steps in shaping a mar-

ket economy; and his reluctance to revamp the collectivized agricultural system. He also

seemed determined to repress ethnic unrest and to reject the demands of the constituent

republics for greater freedom from central control. The military, the industrial bureaucrats,

and the party were still in command.

The loosening of totalitarian controls unleashed nationalist movements and long-

suppressed ethnic tensions. Every one of the 15 federated constituent republics of the

Soviet Union began to raise demands for independence. Secessionist pressures under-

standably went furthest in the three Baltic republics. People in Latvia, Lithuania, and

Estonia remembered their 20 years of independence between the two world wars; how

they had fallen victim to the Nazi-Soviet pact of 1939; and how one-third of their popula-

tion had been killed, deported, or driven into exile in the war and postwar years. In the

freer atmosphere of glasnost, the constituent republics, which had come to consider them- selves trapped within the Soviet Empire, were able to denounce Soviet control. For his part

Gorbachev was willing to create a federation council to advise on matters relating to the

republics, but he would not risk the wrath of the old guard by going beyond that.

The party’s grip

loosened

Criticisms of

Gorbachev

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991

Gorbachev and the West

As the new era evolved, Communist ideology and the view of world affairs that had helped

to create and prolong the Cold War were also transformed. Gorbachev repudiated ideo-

logical struggle. He cited the progress of science and technology as requiring “a different

road to the future.” In an interdependent globe besieged by nuclear, ecological, and eco-

nomic dangers, the highest concern must be “universal human interests” and the “universal

human idea.” Because Marx and Lenin had taught their followers to reject “universal”

ideals as a smoke screen for class rule and oppression, the turnabout was startling.

Gorbachev changed the image of the Soviet Union as a military threat and pro-

moter of world revolution. He became a familiar and popular fi gure in Western capitals

as a negotiator, diplomat, and often Western-style politician. He followed

his conciliatory words with deeds. He removed troops and weapons from

eastern Europe, negotiated nuclear arms reduction agreements with the

United States, ended the war in Afghanistan, and helped to resolve Cold

War regional confl icts. And he accepted, even encouraged, reforms in eastern Europe,

probably not foreseeing how far they would go. He spoke up for human rights, paid tribute

to the standards embodied in the Helsinki Accords, and called for a “common European

Encouraging détente

Mikhail Gorbachev advocated economic and cultural reforms that came to be known in gen- eral terms as the call for glasnost, or “openness,” and perestroika, or “structural reforms.” Gorbachev expected the reforms to benefi t agriculture as well as the industrial sector of the Soviet economy, and he campaigned for his program among both farmers and workers. He is shown here (smiling, on the left) during a meeting with potato farmers near Moscow in 1987. Such contacts with people in the countryside affi rmed the spirit of glasnost, but the reforms on state-owned farms did not go far enough to bring about a rise in agricultural production. (TASS/Sovfoto)

115. The Crisis in the Soviet Union

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Chapter 25 The International Revolt Against Soviet Communism992

home” for western and eastern Europe. The Cold War of the post-1945 years began to lose

its ideological intensity and rationale. We have seen how Gorbachev extended the earlier

policies of détente, believing that the reduction of nuclear arms was essential for the relief

of intolerable military burdens on the Soviet economy. Gorbachev’s support for détente

thus went hand in hand with his plans for domestic economic reform. From their low point

in the early 1980s, relations between the Soviet Union and the United States, as noted ear-

lier, abruptly changed after 1985. A series of meetings between Gorbachev and President

Ronald Reagan led to major new agreements on the reduction of nuclear weapons.

In summit meetings in Washington and Moscow, the Soviet and American leaders had

closer contact with each other’s people than ever before. Gorbachev mingled with throngs

in crowded Washington streets. Reagan, in the shadow of Lenin’s tomb in Moscow, spoke

openly about the Soviet repression of dissidents, the refusal to permit Jews to emigrate,

religious persecution, and the ongoing war in Afghanistan. Gorbachev eventually commit-

ted his country to the withdrawal of Soviet troops from the unwinnable war against Muslim

insurgents in Afghanistan—a “bleeding wound” he called it. Meanwhile Gorbachev lent

encouragement to the vast changes taking place in eastern Europe. In 1990 Gorbachev and

President George H. W. Bush, Reagan’s successor, could jointly hail the end of the Cold

War. In 1991 they signed a strategic arms treaty pledging each nation to scale down by

about a third its arsenal of long-range nuclear missiles.

116. THE COLLAPSE OF COMMUNISM IN CENTRAL AND EASTERN EUROPE

While Gorbachev was introducing reforms in the mid-1980s, central and eastern Europe

remained under Stalinist-type party bosses, some in offi ce for over 30 years, impervious to

pressure for reform. But cracks and fi ssures were apparent even before Gorbachev began

making changes in the Soviet Union. The years of détente had already opened up the East

European states to Western loans and investments and to closer contacts with the West.

Dissidents called for a recognition of the human rights guaranteed by the Helsinki Accords

in 1975, to which the Soviet Union and the East European bloc had subscribed. They wrote

about ending party-state dictatorships and the restoration one day of a “civil society” in

which people could live their lives free from the dictates of the state.

As in the Soviet Union itself, East Europeans discussed the shortcom-

ings of their centrally planned economies, which had stagnated since the

1970s. Initiative and productivity were stifl ed, and large subsidies propped

up ineffi cient state-run monopolies unchallenged by competition. The older

plants and industrial infrastructure were decaying; the environment was deteriorating. A

scarcity of investment capital prevented the growth of new industries. Only in Hungary

had decentralizing reforms and tentative steps toward a market economy been adopted. In

East Germany, the showcase for achievements under central planning, economic growth

had slowed and consumer goods were scarce. Even if state-run planned economies were to

continue, many argued for new market competition, incentives for entrepreneurs and work-

ers, and encouragement of joint ventures with the outside capitalist world.

Poland: The Solidarity Movement

In the 1970s and 1980s demands for economic reform and political liberalization surfaced

almost everywhere, but nowhere so forcefully as in Poland. Gomulka, who governed

Economic stagnation

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993116. The Collapse of Communism in Central and Eastern Europe

Poland for 14 years after 1956, disappointed the reformers. He used troops to put down

strikes, persecuted church leaders, and permitted an anti-Semitic campaign against the

small number of Jews still living in Poland. In 1970, after riots over food prices, the party

replaced him with the reform-minded Edmund Gierek, who embarked on an ambitious

economic development program, fi nanced by heavy borrowing from western Europe. The

initial results were promising and the economy began to improve, but to meet its rising

debt obligations, the country expanded exports at the expense of domestic consumption.

Economic conditions again deteriorated, sparking a new wave of social unrest.

In 1980 the rise in food prices led to widespread strikes, which began in the Lenin

shipyards in Gdansk and spread rapidly to other cities. A somewhat freer political atmo-

sphere made it possible for workers to create an aggressive independent trade union fed-

eration, Solidarity, the fi rst of its kind in any Communist country. The new

workers’ movement found a militant leader and national symbol of protest

in Lech Walesa. Before long Solidarity claimed a national membership of

10 million industrial and agricultural workers. With backing from leaders

of the Polish Catholic Church, its leaders called for free elections and a role for Solidar-

ity in government. The Soviets, then still in the Brezhnev era, once again saw a socialist

regime threatened. They put heavy pressure on the Polish government and party to curb

Solidarity, oust Gierek, and install the dependable and steely General Jaruzelski as party

head and premier. When strikes and demonstrations continued to mobilize wide popular

support, raising the threat of Soviet military intervention, Jaruzelski, in 1981, imposed

martial law, banned Solidarity, and arrested its leaders.

But once the power of Solidarity was curbed and the Soviet threat of intervention

passed, Jaruzelski himself took a different tack. To placate labor he lifted martial law and

initiated a reform program of his own. International pressure also contributed to liberaliza-

tion. John Paul II, the fi rst Polish pope to head the Roman Catholic Church, inspired huge

demonstrations for freedom during visits to Poland after his elevation to the papacy in

1978; and Lech Walesa was honored with a Nobel Peace Prize in 1983. Polish dissidents

thus became international symbols of the growing European campaign for human rights.

Jaruzelski’s efforts at economic reform failed to improve the economy or mollify

widespread resentments. Meanwhile, in the late 1980s, Gorbachev’s liberalizing reforms

in the Soviet Union encouraged further reforms in Poland and suggested that the Soviets

would not intervene to check liberalization in eastern Europe. The recognition that the

“Brezhnev Doctrine” was no longer operative encouraged a movement for reform even

within the Polish Communist Party itself.

In 1989 Jaruzelski and the party leadership permitted parliamentary elections, in which

Solidarity and other groups were free to put forward candidates, although the Communist

Party was guaranteed a fi xed number of seats. The fi rst open elections in Poland in over

40 years gave Solidarity a landslide victory in all contested seats. A Solidarity-led coali-

tion cabinet was formed in which the Communists were a minority. The

party took steps to transform itself into a Western-type socialist party, but

many of its members drifted away. The party-state dictatorship ended with-

out bloodshed. The authoritarian walls in eastern Europe were breached,

thus allowing political and economic reforms to fl ow into Polish society.

The new government moved at once to restructure the economy along free-market

lines. Sharp differences emerged between Lech Walesa, elected president in 1990, and his

one-time political allies; and former Communists soon returned to the political scene, but

Poland was fi nally and henceforth in charge of its own national political destiny.

Lech Walesa

Reforms within the

party

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Chapter 25 The International Revolt Against Soviet Communism994

Hungary: Reform into Revolution

In Hungary the attempt at reform in 1956, initiated by the Communist Party leadership

itself, had been brusquely interrupted when the Soviets intervened with troops and tanks to

suppress the “counterrevolution.” Imre Nagy, the party leader, and other leaders of the

revolt were hanged. For the next 32 years, hard-liner János Kádár ran the country. But

even under Kádár the party, without relinquishing its monopoly on political control, moved

away from an infl exible centrally planned economy, encouraged a degree of private enter-

prise, and turned to Western countries for capital investment. For a time the economy

expanded and standards of living rose, but the limited reforms accomplished no fundamen-

tal change. After 1985, as Gorbachev’s reforms were implemented in the Soviet Union, a

new drive for political and social change began to develop also within Hungary.

In 1988 the party sought to show its support for change and also to maintain power

by easing Kádár out of offi ce. The new Hungarian leadership allowed opposition parties

and multiparty elections and began to dismantle the older party-state apparatus. It even

dissolved the Communist Party, reconstituting it along socialist and social–

democratic lines, and a wide range of independent political groups came

forward. Reform was therefore initiated by the party itself, and it had turned

into a revolution without bloodshed. The new leaders reclaimed the mem-

ory of the suppressed 1956 uprising as a progressive movement and formally condemned

those who had invited Soviet intervention. Nagy’s body was exhumed from a mass grave

and given a hero’s reburial. By sweeping aside the humiliation of 1956, the country reas-

serted its national independence, restored self-government and civic freedom, and opened

the way to a market-oriented economy and a pluralist democracy.

The developments in Hungary soon precipitated even more dramatic events. The new

Hungary, looking westward, symbolically demolished a portion of the barbed-wire barrier

on its Austrian border. A few months later, in September 1989, when large numbers of

East Germans vacationing in Hungary sought to emigrate to the West, Hungary opened

its border with Austria and allowed the Germans to exit. For the fi rst time since 1961 East

Germans found a safe way to leave their country, and this exodus helped to bring about a

dramatic political transformation in all of Germany.

The German Democratic Republic: Revolution and Reunifi cation

Given Gorbachev’s positive attitude toward reform, it was understandable that the pace

of change in eastern Europe would accelerate, but nobody could have anticipated the full

dimensions of the upheaval. In the four hard-line dictatorships—the German Democratic

Republic, Czechoslovakia, Bulgaria, and Romania—there still appeared to be little chance

for a Communist sharing of power in the spring of 1989, let alone a revolutionary trans-

formation. Yet by the end of that year the Communist regimes had fallen in all of these

countries.

In the German Democratic Republic Erich Honecker, in power since 1961, stubbornly

held the line against reform. Although the country boasted the strongest economy and

highest per capita income in eastern Europe, its citizens enjoyed far fewer amenities than

the West Germans. The Berlin Wall built in 1961 still barred their free movement into

West Germany. Although Honecker had agreed to the closer economic and political rela-

tions with West Germany that Willy Brandt had initiated with his Ostpolitik in 1969, he refused to relax controls at home. But the East Germans excitedly watched the Gorbachev

changes in the Soviet Union and the rush of events in Poland and Hungary. When in the

Party initiatives

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995

The independent Polish trade union movement, Solidarity, gained the support of millions of workers in the early 1980s. Solidarity organized strikes and demonstrations, demanding better wages for workers and major reforms in the Communist political system. These demonstrators gathered to support Solidarity at a rally outside the court buildings in Warsaw in November 1980. The Solidarity movement was suppressed after martial law was imposed the following year, but the Polish Communist Party could never destroy the movement’s popular appeal. Solidarity eventually won control of Poland’s fi rst new government in free elections that took place at the end of the decade. (Keystone/Getty Images)

autumn of 1989 Hungary opened the way for them to leave, thousands seized the opportu-

nity. The trickle soon became a fl ood. The East Germans, many of them skilled workers

and professionals looking for better economic opportunities, fl ed the

repression and drabness of the German Democratic Republic for the Fed-

eral Republic of Germany, where as Germans they were entitled by law to

receive citizenship and assistance in fi nding homes and jobs. By the end of

1989, 350,000 of East Germany’s population of 17 million had left, and

many more emigrated in the early months of 1990.

Flight from

Honecker’s rule

116. The Collapse of Communism in Central and Eastern Europe

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Chapter 25 The International Revolt Against Soviet Communism996

When demonstrations against the East German government mounted, Gorbachev

clearly signaled that Honecker could not expect the Soviet troops stationed in East

Germany to save the regime, and he even warned against the use of force to prevent reform.

In Leipzig, over 100,000 demonstrators, assembling in churches, marched in solemn pro-

cession with lighted candles, calling for the resignation of party and government leaders

and for an end to the police state. The party forced Honecker to resign.

The new leadership promised elections and confi rmed the right of free and unrestricted

travel. On November 9, 1989, when the government opened up the hated symbol of con-

fi nement itself, the Berlin Wall, excited Berliners on both sides of the barrier tore it down.

The exodus to West Germany continued. By now even the new freedom of movement, the

end of censorship, the new parliamentary supervision over the state security police, and the

pledge of free elections did not suffi ce. Many East Germans were infuriated by public dis-

closure of the corruption and luxurious living that Honecker and the party

elite had enjoyed while ordinary people suffered over the years. The entire

party structure now came crashing down. The Politburo and Central Com-

mittee resigned. Honecker and other leaders were arrested on charges of

corruption and embezzlement, and younger reformers assumed control.

Delegates from a wide variety of opposition groups, exultant over their “gentle” revolu-

tion, met with reform-minded representatives of the former Communist Party to oversee

the transition to a new constitutional regime, which many still envisaged as a socialist but

democratic society that would now become democratic.

Once the German Democratic Republic was no longer Communist, however, pressure

for reunifi cation with West Germany began to build. Helmut Kohl, the Christian Democratic

chancellor in West Germany, took the initiative to reunite the two Germanys. For many of the

wartime Allies the prospect of a reunifi ed Germany of close to 80 million people, possessing

one of the world’s most powerful economies, stirred grim ghosts of the past. The “German

question” resurfaced. The entire postwar settlement stood at issue. Because

no fi nal peace treaty had ever been signed, reunifi cation required the approval

of the four major Allied powers of the Second World War. There was hesita-

tion, especially in France and Britain, but it was diffi cult, as the Americans

argued, to deny the German people the right of self-determination 45 years

after the end of the war. Moreover, the Federal Republic of Germany had demonstrated its

commitment to democracy. There was confi dence that a reunifi ed Germany could integrate

East Germany and remain part of democratic western Europe and the European Community.

Despite the unspeakable crimes of the Nazi era, it seemed unreasonable to insist upon unal-

terable traits of national character or to punish future generations for atrocities of the past.

Reunifi cation therefore moved forward swiftly. The four Allied powers, including the

U.S.S.R., gave their approval and relinquished their occupation rights. Germany confi rmed

the earlier cession of territories in the east to the U.S.S.R. and Poland and pledged the invi-

olability of the German-Polish border. The two German states merged their economies and

the West German mark became the common currency. On October 3, 1990, the two states

formally united to become an enlarged Federal Republic of Germany, its capital to be rees-

tablished within a few years in Berlin. In the fi rst nationwide elections, Chancellor Kohl

and his Christian Democrats, who played a key role in the reunifi cation, won a sweeping

victory. Although the nation’s postelection exhilaration was soon tempered by the gigantic

problems of absorbing the thoroughly decayed East German economy, a key component

of post-1945 European politics and confl icts—the division of Germany—permanently

disappeared. Equally important, Germany had been reunited through democratic processes

rather than through violence or the actions of an authoritarian government.

Corruption within the

party

The “German

question” revived

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997

Czechoslovakia: “‘89 Is ‘68 Upside Down”

In Czechoslovakia the ruling hard-liners who took power after Soviet military forces had

ruthlessly crushed the “Prague spring” in 1968 disapproved of Gorbachev’s reforms in the

Soviet Union and stifl ed dissent at home. But the dissidents quietly grew in numbers and

infl uence. Charter ’77, an organization of intellectuals formed after the Helsinki Accords

of 1975, became a rallying point for the struggle against the dictatorship. The Czech public

followed with intense interest the disintegration of Communist power in Poland, Hungary,

and East Germany. When demonstrations broke out in the autumn of 1989, the govern-

ment arrested the dissident leaders, but thousands of demonstrators in Prague called for

the release of the imprisoned dissidents and for the government’s resignation. Reformers

came together in a loose coalition and found inspiring leadership in the ideas and activism

of the dissident writer Vaclav Havel, an outspoken opponent of the regime who had repeat-

edly suffered persecution and imprisonment for his views.

The demonstrations grew in intensity. When 350,000 demonstrators gathered in Prague

on November 24 to demand an end to the party-state dictatorship and when a general strike

threatened to bring the whole country to a standstill, the government and party leaders all at

once resigned. Alexander Dubček, the hero of 1968, dramatically appeared on a balcony

alongside a new reform-minded Communist prime minister, who appointed opposition

The “Velvet Revolution” in Czechoslovakia exemplifi ed the nonviolent overthrow of late twentieth-century communist regimes in central Europe. Czech dissidents, including the playwright Vaclav Havel, had led anti-Soviet campaigns for human rights since the 1960s, so the upheaval in November 1989 reaffi rmed political aspirations that had fl ourished during the “Prague spring” of 1968. These two historical moments were linked in this photograph as the younger Havel took the hand of his predecessor Alexander Dubcek and made his way with the dissident singer Marta Kubisova toward a vast Prague rally against Czechoslovakia’s discredited Communist government. (Lubomir Kotek/AFP/Getty Images)

116. The Collapse of Communism in Central and Eastern Europe

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Chapter 25 The International Revolt Against Soviet Communism998

leaders to his cabinet, pledged a free press and free elections, dissolved the secret police,

and abolished the compulsory teaching of Marxism-Leninism in the universities. The par-

ty’s 41-year monopoly on power was dissolved. Havel became provisional president and

led a new cabinet in which the Communists were a minority. Gorbachev took steps to

withdraw the 75,000 Soviet troops that had been stationed in the country since 1968. In the

The destruction of the Berlin Wall in November 1989 provided dramatic physical and sym- bolic evidence of the collapse of Communist regimes in eastern Europe. Young people shat- tered the Wall in a great celebration that released long-suppressed political anger and marked the culmination of a nonviolent revolution in East Germany. Within a year, the two postwar German states were united in a new, enlarged Federal Republic of Germany, which faced the social and economic challenges of bringing two different societies into an integrated national political system. (Robert Wallis/Sipa Press)

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999

A “velvet revolution” excitement someone exultantly observed: “’89 is ’68 upside down.” The

people had wrested control without bloodshed in a “velvet revolution” that

destroyed an “iron curtain” regime.

Of all the nations in the disintegrating Soviet bloc, Czechoslovakia had the strongest

democratic traditions. Despite long-standing ethnic tensions, it had developed a genuine

parliamentary democracy in the interwar years, and it was the last of the eastern European

states to fall under Communist dictatorship after the Second World War. Even though its

economy was one of the strongest among the Communist nations, it lagged far behind the

western Europeans and required large infusions of capital to modernize its older technol-

ogy. It moved rapidly toward a market-oriented economy and a pluralist democracy—

the kind of civil society that had been sought by dissidents such as Havel, who was now

elected president of the new republic. But an unexpected political sequel followed within

three years. The country came apart when Slovak political leaders pressed for an indepen-

dent Slovakia, which some had wanted since 1918. A negotiated settlement arranged for

the peaceful division of the country in January 1993 into two independent and sovereign

nations—the Czech Republic and Slovakia.

Bulgaria’s Palace Revolution, Bloodshed in Romania

Even Bulgaria, considered the most docile of the Soviet client states, succumbed to the

new revolutionary contagion. Mass demonstrations in Sofi a demanded an end to the

Communist dictatorship, and pressure from within the party forced the resignation of

the party chief who had run the country for 35 years. His foreign minister, who replaced

him, pledged parliamentary elections, economic reforms, and an end to the party’s abso-

lute control of power. New political groups emerged, fragmented yet strong enough to

press for reform.

The revolution in Bulgaria was essentially a palace coup within the party, but it, too,

arose in response to deep national resentments. In a country that had known little freedom

even in the pre-Communist years, the question was whether the reform-minded former

Communists who, like many others elsewhere, renamed themselves Socialists, could work

together with the new opposition to create a true democracy.

Only in Romania did events take a violent turn in 1989. It seemed at fi rst as though

the revolution would not even reach Bucharest. Since 1965, the dictator

Nicolae Ceausescu had fi rmly controlled party and government, ruling with

the help of his wife and family and building a cult of personality around

himself. He remained isolated in a rigid autocracy with a large private secu-

rity force, which he favored over the regular army. His Stalin-like ambition was to trans-

form a largely agrarian society into a modern industrial society regardless of the human

cost. For his modernization program he borrowed heavily from Western institutions, but to

remain independent of the outside world he insisted that the country regularly pay the bur-

densome interest on its debt. He used state resources to build an enormous presidential pal-

ace. All dissent was kept under tight surveillance and control. What was distinctive about

Ceausescu was his break from Moscow and his independent position in foreign and military

affairs. Unlike the other members of the Warsaw Pact, he had supported Israel in the Arab-

Israeli wars and had refused to join the invasion of Czechoslovakia in 1968.

Throughout the revolutionary autumn of 1989 Ceausescu ignored the

upheavals in central and eastern Europe. But in December protest riots

broke out in Timisoara, a key provincial capital. The military refused to

The Ceausescu regime

Ceausescu’s security

forces

116. The Collapse of Communism in Central and Eastern Europe

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Chapter 25 The International Revolt Against Soviet Communism1000

fi re on the demonstrators, but the dictator’s security forces took over, killing hundreds.

Word of the brutality spread, sparking new protests. When the security forces attempted to

suppress demonstrators in Bucharest, angry crowds forced the dictator to fl ee the capital.

For days a battle raged between the security forces and regular army units support-

ing the revolutionists until the security forces were routed. Ceausescu and his wife were

apprehended in the provinces and executed by a fi ring squad. A National Salvation Front,

consisting of former offi cials of the Ceausescu regime and emergent opposition leaders,

took control. Although former Communists dominated the new regime and the strength of

the democratic forces remained limited, the party’s authority ended and the most repres-

sive dictatorship of the Eastern bloc came to an ignominious end.

The Revolutions of 1989 in Central and Eastern Europe

Except in Romania, the eastern European revolutions of 1989 were carried out everywhere

by placards and candles, not by rifl es. Solidarity’s early struggle in Poland and Gorbachev’s

liberalization in the Soviet Union made it possible for revolutionary changes in central and

eastern Europe to take place as they did. With a suddenness that took even the closest

observers by surprise, smoldering discontents fl ared up all at once in a revolutionary fi re-

storm that transformed the region more decisively than the famous revolutions of 1848.

The long-sought goals of national independence and political democracy, which many

people in eastern Europe had been trying to reach since the nineteenth century, would

mostly become a political reality after 1989; and the fi restorm that “burned down” every

government in eastern Europe was all the more remarkable because almost no human lives

were lost in the confl agration. Gorbachev, committed to curtailing economic and military

obligations for the sake of the Soviet economy, accepted the end of the Communist regimes

that Stalin had imposed after the Second World War.

The groundwork for change had been prepared by the growing economic ties and

contacts with western Europe during the years of détente, the Helsinki Accords, the

stubborn challenge of Solidarity, and the courage of the dissidents. But

it was Gorbachev’s clear signal that the Soviets would not intervene out-

side their own borders that made the stupendous chain of revolutionary

events possible, toppling one regime after another. The dramatic fl ight of

the East Germans symbolized the desire of all eastern Europe to escape

from behind the iron curtain. The revolutionists, armed only with a moral cause, would

have found it diffi cult to prevail if any of their own governments had chosen to use the

full power of the army and police. During this same year, in June 1989, the Communist

government of China violently repressed pro-democracy demonstrations at Tiananmen

Square in Beijing, and such repression might have been repeated in eastern Europe. But

the ruling elites, without Soviet support to bolster them, yielded; they simply lacked the

will to govern under a system that had lost legitimacy and credibility, even among those

who controlled it.

117. THE COLLAPSE OF THE SOVIET UNION

Before the stunning developments in eastern Europe could be fully absorbed, an even more

epochal event occurred. An all but bloodless revolution brought the collapse of commu-

nism in 1991 in the very epicenter of world communism, undoing the Russian Revolution

Gorbachev’s decisive

role

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1001117. The Collapse of the Soviet Union

of 1917 and ending three-quarters of a century of Communist Party rule. The Union of

Soviet Socialist Republics, heir to the one-time tsarist empire, dissolved into its compo-

nent republics. Russia reemerged.

How did this collapse of a seemingly impregnable regime with a heavy apparatus of

military and police security occur? We have already seen how Gorbachev in the years after

1985 opened up Soviet society to revitalize the system but avoided the more decisive mea-

sures that might have ended the hegemony of the Communist Party. Gorbachev vacillated

between the reformers and the hard-line conservatives. A superb political tactician—few

leaders could have brought the party and the system as far as he had within fi ve years—

he nonetheless gave the impression that he did not know how thorough a transformation

he would ultimately permit. The old guard became further embittered as they witnessed

the loss of Soviet control over eastern Europe. Meanwhile the economy worsened, and by

1990 production was in steep decline. Gorbachev tried plan after plan, but the economic

structure remained virtually unchanged. In addition, not only the Baltic republics, as might

have been expected, but the Russian republic itself and all the other component republics

of the U.S.S.R. were pressing for sovereignty—self-government and control over their

political and economic fortunes.

The “Creeping Coup d’État”

In the autumn of 1990 Gorbachev again was maneuvering. He replaced reform-minded

ministers and other key offi cials with old-guard appointees unsympathetic to his reform

program. He summarily abandoned an important “500-Day” economic plan that would

have freed prices and moved more swiftly to a market economy. The plan would also have

curtailed the military budget and given broad economic powers to the republics. It now

appeared that military force was to be deployed against the secessionist Baltic republics,

which earlier, in the spring of 1990, had proclaimed their independence. In January 1991

Soviet troops, apparently taking matters into their own hands without Gorbachev’s prior

approval, used military force against demonstrators in Lithuania, with a loss of lives; and

there was anxiety about where the military might move next.

The democratic reformers grew alarmed by the turn of events. Some

spoke of “six wasted years of reform communism” and of a “creeping coup

d’état.” They had concluded that the country’s economic problems could

not be resolved short of demolishing the entire central planning structure,

and also that each republic must be allowed to work out its own destiny. To the reformers

Gorbachev seemed a barrier to further change, and he in turn grew increasingly hostile to

them, convinced that he alone knew the proper pace of reform.

The democratic reformers turned to a political fi gure who on the surface seemed an

unlikely choice as their leader. Boris N. Yeltsin was blunt and outspoken, not by any

defi nition an intellectual. His personal style made a striking contrast to the suave, smooth,

and urbane Gorbachev, but Yeltsin knew the Communist Party well, and all its secrets.

He had been party boss in Moscow and a member of the Politburo. When in 1987 he

openly attacked the privileges, perquisites, and downright incompetence of Communist

Party offi cials, he had been dismissed from his posts, vilifi ed in the press, and sent off into

the political wilderness. Humiliated by Gorbachev and the party, he found allies among

the democratic reformers, who saw in him a populist fi gure around whom they could rally

public support. They helped polish some of his rough edges, undertook his political reedu-

cation, and converted him into an opposition leader of stature.

Uneasiness of

reformers

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Chapter 25 The International Revolt Against Soviet Communism1002

Elected to the Soviet legislature in M arch 1989, he soon played a key

role in the opposition. With the encouragement of his political allies, how-

ever, he turned to a new, and seemingly unpromising, power base, the

Russian legislature, that is, the legislature of the Russian constituent repub-

lic. Elected to it in 1990, he became chairman and used his position to step up his attacks

on Gorbachev, the party, and the central government. Then, benefi ting from a Gorbachev

concession permitting the constituent republics to choose their presidents in direct popular

elections, he won election in June 1991 as president of the Russian republic in an over-

whelming victory over his Communist opponents—the fi rst president in Russian history to

be elected by popular vote. It was a distinction that Gorbachev, elected president of the

U.S.S.R. solely by the Soviet Congress, could not claim. (It was at the time of Yeltsin’s

election that Russia’s second largest city voted to change its name from Leningrad back to

St. Petersburg, as it had been called before 1914.) From his new position of strength Yeltsin

demanded immediate independence for the three Baltic states and self-government for

Russia and the other Soviet constituent republics.

Gorbachev, intent on keeping the country and the union intact, began negotiations

with the presidents of the republics. He agreed to surrender considerably more autonomy

to the 15 republics, including substantial control over the economic and fi nancial resources

that Moscow had always tightly guarded. The three Baltic republics, insisting on full inde-

pendence, refused to participate in the negotiations, as did Georgia, now embroiled in its

own internal turmoil. But in August 1991 the Russian republic and eight other constituent

republics agreed to sign Gorbachev’s “union treaty,” which created a framework for the

republics to share power within a new political federation.

The Failed August Coup

For the old-guard hard-liners in the party, the military, and the secret police the treaty was

the fi nal straw—the end of the union as originally created by Lenin in 1922 after the

Bolshevik Revolution of 1917 and the ensuing civil wars. Despite lip service to the sover-

eignty of the republics and the federal structure set forth in the Soviet constitution, the

Soviet Union was from the beginning, and increasingly under Stalin, a Russian-dominated

centralized nation, virtually the successor to the empire of the tsars. To abandon the union

was more than many of the old guard could tolerate. The day before the treaty was to

be signed, a small coterie of eight hard-liners acted to seize power. They included high-

ranking party and government functionaries, among them, the head of the KGB and the

commander of the Soviet land forces. All key fi gures were Gorbachev appointees. Several

of the plotters, including the chief of Gorbachev’s personal cabinet, arrived at Gorbachev’s

summer home in the Crimea, possibly hoping to win him to their side. When under forced

detention he refused to cooperate or yield to pressure, they proclaimed a Committee of

State Emergency to replace him.

The Putschists expected the coup to be a simple operation. Resistance in the country, they were convinced, could be overcome by a simple show of military strength. But they

miscalculated, underestimating the new political forces alive in the country. Gorbachev

disavowed the plotters. In Moscow Yeltsin gained additional stature when

he rallied the Russian legislature in defense of Gorbachev, warned that any-

one supporting the coup would be subject to grave criminal charges, and

appealed for popular support against any military show of force. But the

assault never came. At least one KGB unit disobeyed orders to attack; other tank units

Yeltsin becomes

opposition leader

The failed coup

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1003

advanced only half-heartedly. There was some sporadic street fi ghting, and three civilian

deaths. The coup failed within four days. The plotters turned out to be feckless and irreso-

lute bunglers. The Central Committee of the party did not speak out during these events,

but its silence seemed to sanction the attempted coup.

Gorbachev, his ordeal over, returned to Moscow. He had demonstrated with courage

that he was not the prisoner of the old guard and now went further. Because of the party’s

complicity in the affair, he resigned as general secretary. Yet he still failed to comprehend

how far matters had gone. He believed it suffi cient only to replace the traitors and “return

to the business of reform.” Once again he defended “socialism” as “the choice made in

1917” and stressed the need to preserve the unity of the U.S.S.R. so that the country would

not fall apart.

Yeltsin acted immediately and decisively on an entirely different agenda.

As president of the Russian republic, he issued a series of decrees, describ-

ing the Communist Party as “not a political party but an unlawful apparatus

that took over the Soviet state” and denouncing it as “one of the principal vil-

lains” in the attempted coup. Suspending its activities throughout the Russian

republic, he transferred to the state the party’s vast property, along with its fi les and archives.

The Soviet Congress of People’s Deputies meeting in Moscow soon validated the decrees

for the entire country before voting itself out of existence. In many ways what happened in

the aftermath of the failed coup was the culmination of the Gorbachev six-year reform era.

But the dissolution of the party-state regime, at Yeltsin’s hands, was the revolution.

All that remained of the earlier framework was a federation council consisting of the

presidents of the constituent republics, over which Gorbachev continued to preside. It

immediately recognized the independence of the three Baltic republics. For the country as

a whole Gorbachev still hoped to salvage his older idea, a “union of sovereign states,”

which, while granting self-government to the republics, would retain a central authority.

But the republics pressed for full independence; hostility toward central authority had

intensifi ed after the bungled coup. The very party leaders, as in the Ukrainian S.S.R., who

themselves once suppressed separatist movements, had by now taken over the leadership

of nationalist independence movements.

The Ukrainian S.S.R. proclaimed itself independent as Ukraine (never again to be

called the Ukraine) immediately after the August coup. In December, Yeltsin announced that Russia would not remain in the union without Ukraine. Thereupon the three Slavic

states—Russia, Ukraine, and Belarus (the new name for Byelorussia), the states that had

originally created the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics in December

1922—dissolved it. Gorbachev resigned as president. Yeltsin at once occu-

pied his offi ce in the Kremlin.

The other republics of the Soviet Union also agreed to its dissolution.

A loose organization called the Commonwealth of Independent States

(CIS) consisting of Russia and ten other republics came into existence. 1 The Baltic states

had already gone their separate ways. The Union of Soviet Socialist Republics, for close to

Yeltsin dissolves the

regime

The U.S.S.R.

dissolves

1 The 11 republics affi liating themselves with the Commonwealth of Independent States, created in December 1991,

as successor to the U.S.S.R. in order of population (with their capitals in parentheses) were as follows: Russian Fed-

eration (Moscow), Ukraine (Kiev), Uzbekistan (Tashkent), Kazakhstan (Alma-Ata), Belarus (Minsk), Azerbaijan

(Baku), Tajikistan (Dushanbe), Moldova (Chisinau), Kyrgyzstan (Bishkek), Turkmenistan (Ashkhabad), and Arme-

nia (Yerevan). Georgia (Tbilisi) joined in 1993, but withdrew in 2009. Turkestan and Ukraine were affi liated states

rather than offi cial members. Former Communist leaders retained control of most of the new governments until the

early twenty-fi rst century, when revolutionary, democratizing changes took place in several of the republics.

117. The Collapse of the Soviet Union

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Chapter 25 The International Revolt Against Soviet Communism1004

seven decades the world’s largest multinational state, stretching over one-sixth the earth’s

surface and 11 time zones, with close to 300 million people, one of the world’s two super-

powers for over 40 years after the Second World War, simply disappeared as a geographic

entity. Russia, still the world’s largest nation in area and itself a mixture of many peoples,

succeeded to the Soviet Union’s permanent seat on the UN Security Council.

Gorbachev returned to private life, declaring “the main task” of his life to have been

accomplished. He has to be counted as one of the great reformers in his-

tory. The “Gorbachev factor,” as it has been called, made an immeasurable

difference. H is tragedy was that he failed to build a new system to replace

the communism that he had undermined. He unleashed powerful winds of

change that ultimately he could not direct or control. He drastically altered a totalitarian

system yet refused to recognize that the demolition of the entire structure was necessary.

Eventually he became a danger to the old order and an impediment to the new. Yeltsin,

Gorbachev’s legacy

Boris Yeltsin’s fi rm resistance to an attempted coup against the government of Mikhail Gorbachev by old-guard Communists in August 1991 confi rmed Yeltsin’s stature as the most popular political fi gure at the time. He is shown here waving to the huge crowd that gathered outside the Parliament building to show its support for the political reforms that were trans- forming the Soviet Union. Yeltsin was the fi rst popularly elected president of Russia when it was still part of the U.S.S.R., a position he continued to occupy after the formal dissolution of the Soviet Union in December 1991. (Reuters/Corbis)

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1005118. After Communism

who took undisguised satisfaction in the fall of his once all-powerful rival, said of him:

“We, like the world, respect him for what he did, especially in the fi rst years of perestroika beginning with 1985 and 1986.” After that, he said, the “errors” began. Russia, predicted

George Kennan, one of America’s preeminent diplomat-historians and Russian specialists,

would eventually regard Gorbachev as the “person who led it out of bondage” even if “he

was unable to reach the Promised Land.” But it was not yet time to render fi nal historical

judgments. For the vast lands and peoples that had once been the Soviet Union, and for

Russia and Yeltsin himself in 1991, the future held many uncertainties, a future in which

the entire world had an enormous stake.

118. AFTER COMMUNISM

Marxist-Leninist ideology as the undergirding for one-party dictatorship still persisted at

the opening of the twenty-fi rst century in the People’s Republic of China, the world’s most

populous country, and in the smaller states of North Korea, Vietnam, and Cuba. Albania,

the last of the Communist regimes in Europe, and the most impoverished, threw off Com-

munist rule in 1991. Yugoslavia’s disintegration after the end of communism, as we shall

see, unfolded separately. In western Europe, most notably in France, Italy, Spain, and

Portugal, once strong Communist parties reexamined their beliefs, at times abandoned the

party name, and adapted to changed circumstances. Marxism, born in the mid-nineteenth

century in response to the instability and inequities of industrial capitalism, would survive

as a scholarly, analytical tool; but it held little or no popular appeal as a political philoso-

phy and program of political action. “Proletarian internationalism” likewise lost much of

its appeal because the term had often been used simply to support Soviet hegemony in

eastern Europe or in various international confl icts.

The revolutions of the late twentieth century in the Soviet Union and central and

eastern Europe seemed to herald the international triumph of the political

liberalism that had emerged in the late eighteenth century and shaped the

political cultures and institutions of the modern, western European democ-

racies. Like earlier advocates of political democracy (but with adjustments

to their own cultural contexts), the eastern European reformers sought free elections, polit-

ical and civil rights, individual liberties, and respect for human dignity. The peoples of

their various nations had too long been the pawns of totalitarian party-state regimes that

self-righteously demanded sacrifi ce and subservience in the name of an ultimate utopia.

The reformers objected to the centrally planned bureaucratic command economies, which

had deprived almost everyone of decent living standards. They envied the immeasurably

more prosperous economies of the United States, western Europe, and elsewhere, even if

these other nations also had their share of inequalities, economic insecurity, and social and

ethnic confl icts. The offi cial claim that all citizens in “socialist” societies enjoyed equal

rights and privileges had only concealed the realities of political repression, economic

stagnation, and social immobility. For many, the public revelation of the Communist Party

elite’s special privileges and luxuries proved the fi nal shock.

The revolutionary changes in 1989–1991 made possible, but did not guarantee, demo-

cratic and pluralist societies in which the citizens themselves through responsible govern-

ment could shape their political and economic future. The road to democracy and free

economies was not an easy one. If democratic governments failed to take root, new author-

itarian political parties and repressive governments could reemerge. The revolutionary

changes released many ugly currents, ominous for the future—anti-Semitism, xenophobia,

Triumph of liberalism

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Chapter 25 The International Revolt Against Soviet Communism1006

chauvinistic nationalism, irredentism—all easily mobilized when discontented people

sought scapegoats for their frustrations.

Russia, the other former Soviet republics, and the countries of central

and eastern Europe thus entered a period of diffi cult transitions. In prin-

ciple, they were transforming their political systems into representative

democracies and their centrally planned economies into competitive market

economies. But bureaucrats and managers of the old order often remained

in control under new labels. Many, especially in Russia, used the knowl-

edge and networks of privileged positions in the older regimes to benefi t fi nancially from

the newly privatized enterprises. Despite infusions of international aid, the new regimes

struggled to cope with the disorienting challenges of a free market, capitalist economy,

new technologies, and a global fi nancial system.

The market economy could take many forms. The state had always played a large role

in central and eastern Europe. It was unlikely that the new regimes would turn to a pure

laissez-faire model of private enterprise, which did not actually exist in even the most capi-

talist Western economies. Governments would remain actively engaged, seeking to ensure

a protective network of social services. The ideals and policies of democratic socialism,

though only marginal in the United States, still had considerable appeal in much of western

and eastern Europe.

The Soviet experience had tarnished, even poisoned, the image of authoritarian social-

ism (or Communism); but the egalitarian message of many socialist policies retained an

attraction when the policies were clearly linked to respect for democracy and individual

rights by the various European Socialist and Social Democratic parties. Meanwhile all

countries with capitalist market economies and democratic political systems, in western

Europe and elsewhere, were challenged to create societies that could overcome economic

instability, individual insecurity, unemployment, and gross social and economic injustices.

Democracies and market economies offered a means toward desired ends, not fi nal goals

in themselves. It was now generally assumed, however, that prosperity and productivity

could do far more to overcome social inequities than the would-be utopias of repressive

Communist regimes.

Russia after 1991

At the close of 1991 the Russian fl ag replaced the Soviet hammer and sickle over the

Kremlin. As of January 1, 1992, the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics ceased to exist.

The 15 Soviet republics were independent states. Offi cially, the Russia that emerged from

the Soviet Union was the Russian Federation, with 21 “federated republics” of its own and

with numerous additional ethnic-based territorial units. With almost twice the land area of

the United States and a population of almost 150 million, Russia, even if in desperate eco-

nomic straits, was still a signifi cant world power.

The most pressing international concern was the nuclear weaponry of the former

U.S.S.R. Yeltsin had worked out an agreement with the other former Soviet republics

whereby Russia alone was to retain nuclear weapons. Although four-fi fths of the nuclear

weapons were located on Russian soil, nuclear arms were positioned in

Ukraine, Kazakhstan, and Belarus. The United States mediated an agree-

ment under which the three republics consented to dismantle their weapons

in return for generous fi nancial reimbursement. Russia for its part soon

began the initial stage of dismantling its vast arsenal of strategic weapons in accordance

with the arms reduction treaty that had been signed with the United States in 1991.

Diffi cult economic

and political

transitions

Nuclear arms

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1007

The new Russia, like the Soviet Union in its fi nal stages, faced separat-

ist threats. Several of its “federated republics” adopted their own constitu-

tions, fl ags, and anthems and before long enjoyed considerable de facto

independence from Moscow. Only in the southern Chechen Republic did the secessionist

threat become reality, and before long Russia was involved in a brutal, draining war to

prevent secession by Chechnya. Meanwhile 25 million Russians who had long made their

home in other parts of the former Soviet Union came to be regarded in those places as for-

eigners and in some instances were treated with hostility.

In domestic affairs Yeltsin faced severe economic problems. He and his succession

of prime ministers met with little success in making the transition to a market econ-

omy. In the fi rst four years of Yeltsin’s presidency production declined, the ruble fell

in value, standards of living sank, and new forms of corruption spread throughout the

country. Economic life at times seemed more trying for the average citizen than before

the collapse of communism.

Despite large infusions of capital from the United States and international lending

agencies, the Russian economy and fi nancial institutions remained in deep disorder. After

temporizing at fi rst, Yeltsin turned to a Western-oriented economist as his key adviser and

economics minister in the belief that a swift transition to a market economy would be the

least painful course. From late 1991, a fl ood of decrees deregulated prices, ended or

cut subsidies to state-owned industries, and moved forward with privatization. But most

Russians suffered a serious decline in living standards by the spring of 1992 while priva-

tization enriched others who bought into former state industries at bargain prices. An

industrial and fi nancial oligarchy of “robber barons” developed a system of crony capital-

ism; and a shadow economy run by mafi a-type gangsters appeared on the borderlines of

the legal system.

In the spring of 1993 a frustrated Yeltsin appealed to the country to support a new

constitution that would provide for “a strong presidential republic.” That September

Yeltsin dissolved the legislature and called for new elections as well as for a referendum

on his proposed constitution. For two weeks the lawmakers, denouncing

the dissolution as “a coup d’État,” refused to leave the parliament building.

Demonstrators, incited by the legislative leaders, threatened insurrection.

Yeltsin felt bound to act. On October 4 tanks fi red on the building and set it

ablaze. The legislators were evacuated and the leaders were arrested. Over

100 persons died in the confrontation and many more were injured. In fact, both sides

shared in the blame for the confl ict, but the violence showed that Russia was still going

through its revolution.

The new constitution, approved in December 1993, gave broad political authority to

the president, including the right to dissolve the legislature. A popularly elected lower

house, the State Duma, the old name deliberately chosen because of its pre-

Soviet roots, replaced the former Congress of People’s Deputies. In a sting-

ing rebuke to Yeltsin, the new Duma in one of its fi rst acts voted amnesty to

the legislative leaders arrested in October—and to the hard-line old-guard

plotters against Gorbachev in the failed coup of August 1991. Lacking the necessary polit-

ical support, Yeltsin’s ministers abandoned many of the economic reforms and restored

government controls on wages, prices, and profi ts. Yeltsin himself as president now pos-

sessed greatly expanded executive powers but diminishing authority.

Meanwhile, Yeltsin’s political troubles continued in the Chechen Republic. Chechnya,

in the oil-rich Caucasus, its population mostly Islamic, had a long tradition of rebellion and

stubborn resistance to Russian domination. In 1991, as the Soviet Union was collapsing,

Yeltsin’s new

constitution

Yeltsin’s problems

Separatist pressures

118. After Communism

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Chapter 25 The International Revolt Against Soviet Communism1008

the Chechens had demanded independence, or at least equal partnership with Russia.

Militant guerrilla forces now proclaimed independence, but Russia was intent on retaining

control of its southern borderlands and the links to central Asia as well as strategic oil

resources and pipelines. The threat of a secessionist precedent for other federal republics

was also an ongoing concern.

For three years Yeltsin did nothing except to support covert efforts to overthrow the

rebel regime. Suddenly, toward the end of 1994, at the urging of his entourage who saw

an opportunity to make political capital out of a quick victory, Yeltsin gave

orders to invade Chechnya. In a grievous failure of military intelligence the

invasion led to disastrous results. For close to two years the Russian army

sank into a frustrating guerrilla war for which its poorly trained conscript

army was ill-prepared and ill-equipped. When the army failed to take the capital city of

Chechnya invaded

RUSSIAN FEDERATION IN 2000 The map shows the territories of the Russian Federation, the largest and most important of the republics to emerge from the breakup of the former Soviet Union (U.S.S.R.) in 1991. The hatched lines indicate the lands of the other former Soviet republics, which are clustered to the south and west of the Russian Federation. The Federation itself consisted of some 21 “feder- ated units,” including Chechnya, where the Russians waged a military campaign to suppress a Chechen independence movement. The vast lands of the Russian Federation made it territori- ally the largest nation in the world. Much of this land was sparsely populated, however, and Russia’s twenty-fi rst century population has been gradually declining. The Federation’s 142 million people ranked ninth on the list of the world’s most populous nations in 2010.

Former Soviet States

Boundary of former U.S.S.R.

0 500 miles250

A R C T I C O C E A N C as

p ia

n Se

a Aral Sea

Black Sea Sea of

Okhotsk

Lake Baikal

Y e n

ise y

R .

O b

R .

Volg a R

.

Lena R .

R U S S I A N F E D E R A T I O N

K A Z A K H S T A N

KYRGYZSTAN TAJIKISTAN

AZERBAIJAN

GEORGIA CHECHNYA

IRAN

AFGHANISTAN

ARMENIA

UKRAINE

MOLDOVA

BELARUS

RUS.

ESTONIA LATVIALITHUANIA

TURKM EN

ISTA N

U ZBEK

ISTA N M O N G O L I A

C H I N A

TURKEY

IRAQ

POLAND

FINLAND

SWEDEN DENMARK

GERMANY

J A P A N

NORTH KOREA

SOUTH KOREA

Sakhalin

Dushanbe

Ashgabat

Yerevan

Bishkek AlmatyTashkent

Baku

T’bilisi

Groznyy

Kiev

Minsk

Vilnius Riga

Tallinn

Moscow Chisinau

Okhotsk

Novosibirsk

Yekaterinburg

Donetsk

Astana

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1009

Grozny, the military resorted to air bombing and rockets, killing thousands of civilians.

In April 1996 Yeltsin, admitting that the military action in Chechnya was “the greatest

mistake” of his fi rst four years as president, withdrew the army. Chechen cities, towns, and

villages had been destroyed and some 20,000 to 40,000 of Russia’s Chechen citizens had

been killed. The war was widely criticized at home and abroad, and the Chechen indepen-

dence struggle was not yet over.

In the presidential elections of June 1996 Yeltsin, agile politician that he was, won

reelection but only after he was forced into a run-off with the Communist Party’s candi-

date. The economic stagnation and draining budgetary defi cits continued

well into Yeltsin’s second term, bringing further political instability. Yelt-

sin made a whole series of short-lived cabinet appointments and changed

his prime minister fi ve times in 18 months. Finally, in August 1999, he

appointed as his prime minister Vladimir V. Putin, a former intelligence

operative who had been stationed in East Germany and then served as head of the domestic

security agency, the reorganized KGB. It was transparent that Yeltsin was choosing his

successor to run in the presidential elections in 2000.

Suddenly trouble broke out anew in Chechnya. In the fall of 1999 mysterious explo-

sions in Moscow and nearby cities took the lives of some 300 civilians. Prime Minister

Putin at once blamed the explosions on Chechen terrorists and the government proceeded

to take drastic military measures. Intent on avoiding the costly Russian mistakes of the

Putin chosen as

successor

The Russian military campaign to suppress a secessionist movement in the Republic of Chech- nya during the 1990s led to a diffi cult war against Chechen guerilla forces. The Russian army eventually regained control of Chechen towns and the capital city of Grozny, but only after bombardments had killed thousands of civilians and forced people such as this woman in Grozny to fl ee from their homes and bombed-out neighborhoods. (Thomas Dworzak/Magnum Photos)

118. After Communism

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Chapter 25 The International Revolt Against Soviet Communism1010

earlier war, the army launched large-scale air and artillery attacks on the Chechen cities

and countryside. The results for the Chechen population were deadly, with a minimal loss

of Russian troops. Over 4,000 deaths were reported and over 200,000 refugees were

forced to fl ee their homes. The Chechen capital was destroyed. The United States and its

European allies condemned the Russian response, but the government’s aggressive action

was popular in Russia and Putin’s decisiveness enhanced his political stature.

On the last day of December 1999 Yeltsin dramatically announced his resignation

and, in accordance with the constitution, appointed Putin acting president. The date of the

presidential elections was advanced by three months. Yeltsin had found his successor. In

the elections that followed in the spring of 2000 Putin readily won election.

Yeltsin left a mixed record. He had not been a pioneering champion of reform in

the U.S.S.R. as Gorbachev had been in 1985, but once ousted from the inner circles of

the party he allied himself with the reformers. He was the fi rst democratically elected

president of the Russian republic while it was still part of the U.S.S.R., and he supported

the independence movements of the other Soviet republics. He rallied the population to

reject the hard-liners’ coup against Gorbachev and became a chief architect of the Soviet

Union’s dissolution, but he was not able to stimulate a post-Communist expansion of the

Russian economy. Although his two terms as president often disappointed

his western European sympathizers and the democratic reformers within

Russia as well, he left the country with a constitutional system intact, and

the way was still open for democracy to take root.

Yeltsin’s historical legacy would depend in part on the policies and democratic com-

mitments of his successor. Putin’s proclaimed dedication to a “strong state” aroused con-

cerns, however, and his governing methods seemed to become more authoritarian over the

course of his fi rst term and after he won reelection to the presidency in 2004. Responding

in part to the continuing problem of Chechen terrorism (which included shocking terrorist

attacks on a large Moscow theater and a public school in a small town), Putin promoted

the centralization of state power and suppressed his opponents in the government, in the

media, and in elite business circles. He went on to serve as an exceptionally infl uential

prime minister during the presidential term of his own chosen successor, Dmitry Medve-

dev, who was elected in 2008 (when Putin was constitutionally barred from a third con-

secutive presidential term). In 2012 Putin was again elected to the presidency. The Russian

Constitution had meanwhile been amended to extend the presidential term to six years,

and after the election of 2012 Medvedev moved to the position of prime minister. By the

time Putin returned to the president’s offi ce for a third term, a growing anti-Putin “democ-

racy movement” was organizing large demonstrations and gaining support among disaf-

fected Russians who viewed him as a throwback to an earlier kind of Russian ruler who

would never voluntarily relinquish power. In international affairs, Putin sought to shape a

more independent and assertive Russian foreign policy, openly opposing American-British

military intervention in Iraq in 2003, for example, and steadily improving relations with

China. A gradually strengthening Russian economy enabled Putin to develop a more force-

ful assertion of Russia’s international interests, but his desire to sustain his own political

power raised questions about the country’s future political evolution, its role in interna-

tional confl icts, and its position in the global economy.

Almost two decades after the collapse of the Soviet Union, the old Leninist-Stalinist

communism was gone. No one expected Russia to return to a command economy and the

rigidities of central planning or to put together the pieces of the old Russian Empire of the

tsars or the Soviets. Putin’s critics had good reasons to complain about growing threats to

An ambiguous legacy

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1011

democratic political institutions, but Russia did not go back to the dictatorial system that

Stalin had established in the 1930s. The Putin-era nation had a constitution, civil rights,

freedom of religion, and free, contested elections. That more was not accomplished in

Russian economic and political life after the disappearance of the Soviet Union had to be

balanced against the seven decades of twentieth-century dictatorship.

The Resurgence of Nationalism: The Breakup of Yugoslavia

Of all the explosive issues that confronted Europe after the downfall of communism in

1989, ethnic nationalism proved the most intractable. Nationalist passions resurfaced after

a long period of political suppression during the decades of Communist rule. Czecho-

slovakia, as we have seen, divided peacefully in 1993 in response to Slovak pressures.

But in Yugoslavia, the large multiethnic, multinational federation that had been created at

Versailles in 1919, politically ambitious leaders stirred up old national and even religious

tensions that tore the state apart and confronted Europe and the international community

with violence, armed combat, atrocities, fl oods of refugees, and civilian suffering not seen

in Europe since the Second World War.

CHRONOLOGY OF NOTABLE EVENTS, 1980–2012

1980–1981 “Solidarity” labor movement leads campaign for reform in Poland

1985 Mikhail Gorbachev assumes leadership of the Soviet Union

1986 Nuclear accident at Chernobyl releases dangerous radioactivity in Ukraine

1989 Soviet Union withdraws its military forces from Afghanistan

1989 Berlin Wall is dismantled; Communist regime collapses in East Germany

1989 Communist regimes are dissolved in Poland, Czechoslovakia, Bulgaria,

Hungary, and Romania

1990 German reunifi cation creates an enlarged Federal Republic of Germany

1991 Boris Yeltsin is elected president of Russia and leads resistance to attempted

coup by antireform faction of Communist Party

1991–1996 Yugoslavia breaks apart; Serbian and Croatian forces pursue “ethnic cleans-

ings” in Bosnia and Croatia

1992 The Union of Soviet Socialist Republics is offi cially dissolved

1994–1996 Russia wages military campaign against secessionist movement in Chechnya

1999 NATO forces launch air attacks on Serbia to stop Serbian assaults on Muslims

in the province of Kosovo

2000 Vladimir Putin succeeds Yeltsin as president of the Russian Federation

2000–2001 Slobodan Milosevic is forced out of power in Serbia and sent to stand trial at

the war crimes tribunal in The Hague

2008 Kosovo proclaims its independent status as the “Republic of Kosovo”

2012 Vladimir Putin is elected to a third term as president of Russia

118. After Communism

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Chapter 25 The International Revolt Against Soviet Communism1012

What happened in Yugoslavia was deeply rooted in historical animosities that were

awakened and exploited for selfi sh political purposes by nationalist political

leaders in the wake of communism’s collapse in eastern Europe. T o go back

in time, the Balkan Peninsula had been conquered by the expanding Otto-

man Turks in the fourteenth century. Serbia, once a powerful medieval king-

dom attached to the Eastern Orthodox Church, fell under Ottoman rule in

1389 and remained under Ottoman rule for close to 500 years. In 1878 it broke away from

the weakening Ottoman Empire and with the backing of the European Great Powers

regained its status as an independent kingdom. Its neighbors Croatia and Slovenia had also

been ruled by the Ottomans, but Croatia and Slovenia rejoined the Austrian Habsburg

Empire in the late seventeenth century and reaffi rmed their ties with Roman Catholicism

and central Europe. Bosnia (more precisely Bosnia and Herzegovina) long had a mixed

population of Serbs, Croats, and Muslims; many Bosnians of Slavic ancestry in the long

years of Turkish rule had adopted Islam. Bosnia also broke free from Ottoman rule in 1878

but was taken over by the Habsburg Empire.

When both the Austrian and Ottoman Empires collapsed at the end of the First World

War, Serbia together with other South Slav nationalists in 1918 proclaimed a “Kingdom

of the Serbs, Croats, and Slovenes.” At the Paris Peace Conference in 1919 it was permit-

ted also to annex Bosnia, Montenegro (also ethnically Serb), and other formerly Ottoman

territories. All were now joined together under the Serb monarchy in a large multinational

federation. For many years the nationalities held together in a somewhat uneasy alliance

under a kind of royal dictatorship. In 1929 King Alexander in a symbolic effort at achiev-

ing greater unity changed the country’s name to Yugoslavia (or South Slav state). Croat

separatism remained alive and a Croat nationalist assassinated King Alexander in 1934.

Yet many people spoke of themselves as Yugoslavs and regarded Belgrade as their capital,

and the outside world accepted a Yugoslav national identity.

During the Second World War, after the Nazis invaded Yugoslavia in 1941, the

internal tensions in the Serb-dominated country reemerged. Croatia proclaimed its inde-

pendence and for a time was governed as a separate Nazi puppet state. A Croat fascist

organization, the Ustachi, collaborated with the Nazis in rounding up and brutally mis-

treating Serbs, Jews, and others. For the country as a whole the Yugoslav military resis-

tance to Hitler turned divisive and eventually evolved into a civil war between the royalist

(mostly Serb) army and guerrilla forces (mainly non-Serb) led by the prewar Communist

leader Marshal Tito. By his greater effectiveness against the Nazis, Tito won the support of

Churchill and Roosevelt and then triumphed in the civil war.

After its wartime ordeal, with some 2 million of its people dead, Y ugoslavia emerged

in the postwar years under a Communist regime headed by Tito, who soon

broke with Moscow. In 1946 he set up a federal republic with six compo-

nent “republics” (Serbia, Croatia, Slovenia, Bosnia, Montenegro, and

Macedonia), along with two “autonomous provinces,” one of which was

Kosovo. Although himself a Croat, he suppressed all separatist movements with an iron

hand, but allowed each of the republics a degree of autonomy. In Bosnia he recognized the

Bosnian Muslims as a distinct “national group” and gave them equal status with the Serbs

and Croats. So long as Tito lived, Yugoslavia retained its national unity and identity. His

death in 1980, however, was soon followed by the reemergence of the latent separatist

movements. Tito’s successors tried various solutions, including a rotating federal presi-

dency, but separatist agitation continued. When in 1989 communism collapsed all over

eastern Europe, the regime in Yugoslavia collapsed as well. Yugoslavia’s reform Com-

munists (now calling themselves Socialists) relaxed the party’s authoritarian grip on the

country, faced up to its nationalities problem, and held open elections on the country’s

Political leaders and

historical animosities

Marshal Tito

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1013

NATIONALITIES IN CENTRAL AND EASTERN EUROPE AT THE END OF THE TWENTIETH CENTURY The map shows national boundaries and the location of various peoples after the collapse of the Communist governments and the confl icts in the Balkans during the 1990s. East Germany was reunited with the rest of Germany. Czechoslovakia was broken into the Czech Republic and Slovakia. The state of Yugoslavia lost control over Slovenia, Croatia, Bosnia, and Macedonia, all of which became independent nations. Yugoslavia itself dissolved into the separate states of Serbia and Montenegro in 2006. A large Serbian population remains in Bosnian territory, along with Croats and a large number of Slavic-speaking Muslims. The population in Macedonia includes many Albanians. The region of Kosovo has a preponderantly Albanian Muslim popula- tion; it remained under the control of NATO military forces for almost a decade after NATO intervened to stop Serbian suppression of a Kosovar separatist movement in 1999. Kosovo proclaimed itself to be an independent republic in 2008, but this change was not recognized by Serbia. There are many Hungarians in the countries that surround Hungary, and about 1 million Turks live in Bulgaria. Moldova has been an independent nation since 1991 (it was part of the Soviet Union from 1940 to 1991), but much of its population speaks Romanian. Although the region’s diverse ethnic groups often lived together peacefully for long periods of their history, the modern nationalist emphasis on cultural differences and identities, at times infl amed by political leaders, pro- duced strong ethnic hostilities and recurring cycles of violence.

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118. After Communism

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Chapter 25 The International Revolt Against Soviet Communism1014

future. Only Serbia and Montenegro (the two Serb states were always closely allied) voted

to maintain the federal republic. Croatia, Slovenia, Macedonia, and Bosnia all voted for

parties committed to independence.

Former Communist leaders, like Slobodan Milosevic in Serbia and Franjo Tudjman

in Croatia, seeing power slip away, placed themselves at the head of nationalist crusades.

Milosevic, the Serbian president, rallied Serbs in Bosnia, Croatia, and

Slovenia to fi ght to remain under Serb control whenever secession took

place. His fi ery speeches and tactics backfi red. Alarmed by Serb militancy,

both Croatia and Slovenia held a referendum and in 1991 proclaimed their

national independence. They received immediate recognition from the international com-

munity, which was persuaded that prompt recognition would forestall Serb military action.

In Bosnia, the situation was even more complicated. The Serbs and Croats together

comprised over half the population, but the Muslims, as the largest single national group,

dominated the government; over the opposition of the Serb and Croat representatives, the

Muslim nationalist leaders declared Bosnia’s independence. The secession of Croatia,

Slovenia, and Bosnia and their immediate international recognition infuriated Milosevic,

who now governed the former Yugoslavia as a rump state consisting of only Serbia and

Montenegro.

Open warfare broke out in mid-1991. Local Serb paramilitary forces, reinforced

by army units from Belgrade, proceeded to carve out enclaves in the secessionist states,

Nationalist secessions

After the breakup of Yugoslavia in 1991, Serbs and Croats sought to create their own national enclaves in Bosnia by driving Bosnian Muslims from territories where they had lived for cen- turies. This violent process of “ethnic cleansing” led to Serbian massacres of Muslims in cities such as Srebenica and Sarajevo, where these people were marking the graves of victims in a Muslim cemetery. (Abbas/Magnum Photos)

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1015

where Serbs lived in signifi cant numbers, and to drive out non-Serbs. In the fi ghting in

Croatia and Slovenia Serb forces continued to seize territory until a temporary cease-fi re

was arranged.

Tudjman meanwhile goaded the Croat nationalists into action. The worst violence

occurred when both Serbs and Croats attempted to create enclaves for themselves in

Bosnia. For years the mixed population there, despite ethnic and religious differences,

had lived peacefully side by side and had even intermarried. In the war that ensued, the

Serb military forces brutalized the Muslim population. The barbaric deeds, labeled “ethnic

cleansing,” included large-scale expulsions, wholesale civilian slaughter, pillage, and rape.

A prolonged siege of Sarajevo took place. At Srebenica in eastern Bosnia Serb militia exe-

cuted some 8,000 Muslim men and buried them in mass graves. Europeans could scarcely

believe such events were occurring on their own continent in the closing decade of the

twentieth century.

But the international community could not agree on measures to cope with the situa-

tion. Given the historical complexity of the Balkans and the memories of earlier ferocious

confl icts, neither the European powers, which might have been expected to take the lead,

nor the United States would intervene with any meaningful show of force. The Security

Council, however, imposed economic sanctions against the former Yugoslavia (which, as

we have seen, consisted now of only Serbia and its historical ally, Montenegro), embar-

goed the shipment of arms, and made plans for war crimes trials at The Hague.

In 1994, to end the siege of Sarajevo, the United Nations (UN), the United States,

and NATO mediated a cease-fi re and threatened air strikes if it were vio-

lated. For Bosnia a partial diplomatic settlement was negotiated. Cro-

ats and Muslims agreed to create a Croat-Muslim federation in what

remained of Bosnian territory after the Serb conquests. The Serbs now

occupied two-thirds of Bosnia and one-third of Croatia, with no intention

of surrendering their gains. By 1994, 200,000 people were dead or missing, mostly in

the fi ghting in Bosnia since 1991; there were about 4.4 million displaced persons. And

still the fi ghting went on. In 1995 the Croatian army repulsed the Serb military and

recovered most of the territory it had lost to the Serbs four years earlier. The Croats

undertook their own ethnic cleansing program, expelling over 200,000 Serbs. In Bosnia

the Serb offensive failed as well. Finally, in 1996, Serbia agreed to terms mediated by

the United States at a meeting in Dayton, Ohio, accepting the new boundaries of Croa-

tia and Bosnia and agreeing that UN peacekeepers would supervise the settlement in

Bosnia.

An additional source of trouble soon developed, this time within Serbia itself in its

province of Kosovo, where a growing separatist movement alarmed the Serbs. As early as

1989 Milosevic, as part of his initial pro-Serb agitation throughout Yugoslavia, had

rescinded the province’s autonomy. Ethnic Albanians, Muslim in religion, had long lived

in Kosovo; through immigration from Albania and with large families, they had grown in

such numbers that they now made up 90 percent of the population of 2 million. The Kos-

ovars, as they were known, considered themselves related in religion, language, and cul-

ture to fellow Albanians in Albania. The Serbs were especially concerned because they

themselves viewed Kosovo as a kind of holy land, where their ancestors had fought and

lost the famous battle of Kosovo in 1389 to the Ottoman Turks.

The separatist movement grew at fi rst under moderate leadership, but

the Kosovars soon turned to their small but militant liberation army.

In 1998 Milosevic launched a military offensive aimed at wiping out the

UN and U.S.

mediation

Kosovar separatism

repressed

118. After Communism

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Chapter 25 The International Revolt Against Soviet Communism1016

Kosovar forces. Serb military and police units blasted villages and towns to root out the

rebels, killing civilian men, women, and children as well. International efforts to mediate

failed. In 1998 the United States and NATO, acting not only because of the egregious

human rights violations but because of the threat to the stability of the wider Balkan region,

warned Milosevic that it would not allow the Serbs to do in Kosovo what they done in

Bosnia a few years earlier. Milosevic nonetheless continued the wholesale Serb offensive,

with mandates for ethnic cleansing that seemed intended to destroy the Kosovars or drive

them into exile. By that time over 800,000 Kosovars had been forced to fl ee; at least 10,000

were dead.

In March 1999 NATO, for the fi rst time in its 50-year history, under-

took a military offensive, launching large-scale air attacks against Serbia.

The bombing, led by the United States, continued for 78 days with severe

damage in Belgrade and elsewhere before Milosevic yielded. It was an

attack upon a sovereign European state not charged with external aggres-

sion, and it was controversial because it seemed to violate a fundamental principle of

national sovereignty. But the egregious abuses by Serbia and the violations of human

rights against its own citizens were viewed as illegal, murderous actions that required and

justifi ed what was described as “humanitarian intervention.” New international law was

being made. The United States and its European allies were compensating for the failure of

the international community to act against the mass killings in Bosnia (and in the African

state of Rwanda) a few years earlier; and the Europeans had decided that they could no

longer tolerate such brutal abuses of human rights within a European nation. In the end

Milosevic had to yield, but a Russian-backed UN Security Council resolution confi rmed

Yugoslav sovereignty over Kosovo even if Milosevic had to accept 50,000 armed NATO

troops as peacekeepers there.

Kosovars returned to their homes under international protection. NATO forces and

UN administrators moved into Kosovo, but they faced the diffi cult task of offering relief

and reconstruction and of providing security for both Kosovars and Serbs. The indictment

of Milosevic as a war criminal by the international court at The Hague and his international

isolation added to his unpopularity, but he did not give up power until he

unexpectedly lost an election in the fall of 2000 and was forced to resign

after massive demonstrations demanded the recognition of his opponent,

a respected law professor who had kept aloof from the regime. Vojslav

Kostunica took offi ce with broad popular and international support, but he faced enor-

mous economic problems as well as the unsettled future of Kosovo. Under international

pressure, Milosevic was handed over in 2001 to the war crimes tribunal at The Hague,

where he died in detention, in 2006, before the completion of his long trial for war crimes

Meanwhile, the Serbian political situation remained unsettled as die-hard nationalists con-

tinued to oppose those who favored closer economic and political relations with western

Europe. The campaign for new relations with Europe steadily gained support, however,

and Serbia applied for membership in the European Union (EU). In 2012 the EU offi cially

recognized Serbia as a candidate for future membership. There were still tensions, how-

ever, because of the situation in Kosovo, which remained under UN administration until

the Kosovars proclaimed an independent “Republic of Kosovo” in 2008. Although Ser-

bia, Russia, and other nations strongly objected to the creation of an independent state in

Kosovo, most members of the EU and NATO recognized the new republic and established

diplomatic relations.

The NATO air

offensive

Milosevic ousted

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1017

Central and Eastern Europe after 1989

But we must return to central and eastern Europe, where developments took place more

peacefully than in Yugoslavia. The former Communist nations were moving toward

democracy, the rule of law, and a free economy. Law and government had everywhere

fallen into disrepute during the more than four decades of Soviet control; crime, corruption,

and cynicism toward authority had become a method of survival. The later success in open

elections of former Communists, who had helped reconstruct their parties under various

names and with varying degrees of reform, resulted from the hard times associated with

the traumas of transition; but the new reform Communists, it must be said, learned to live

and work with the democratic parties. Virtually every country in the former Soviet bloc for

a time had either a head of state or head of government who had once been a Communist

political leader. Poland in 1993 had its fi rst ex-Communist prime minister and in 1995 an

ex-Communist president. Many of the post-Communist societies experienced a repetition

of the greed and rapaciousness of early Western capitalism. As in Russia, the former ruling

and managerial elites profi ted personally from the newly privatized state industries, accu-

mulating economic power and wealth.

Economic sanctions, military setbacks, and Serbia’s isolation from other European societies helped fuel the growing opposition to Serbian president Slobodan Milosevic. This crowd in the streets of Belgrade was part of a massive protest movement that demanded Milosevic’s resignation after he lost an election in the fall of 2000. The protests forced Milosovic to accept the electoral victory of his opponent, Vojslav Kostunica, thus demonstrating again the impor- tant infl uence of popular mobilizations in the former Communist states of central and eastern Europe. (Spasa Dakic/Sipa Press)

118. After Communism

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Chapter 25 The International Revolt Against Soviet Communism1018

Some observers judged the revolution of 1989 harshly, arguing that

despite its signifi cance in overthrowing a failed system and casting off for-

eign domination, the new regimes were bent mainly on emulating the mate-

rial successes of western European consumer societies. The goal of a

democratic, civil society to supplement the organized state seemed to have faded. Party poli-

tics and party maneuvering became the rule. Because the revolution was peaceful, some

speculated, a revolutionary catharsis may have been missing.

Yet there were also political efforts to reckon with the repressive state

institutions of the recent past. The former German Democratic Republic

conducted trials and purges and opened the fi les of the East German secret

security police, the Stasi, dramatically revealing wide networks of informers; and inves-

tigations of the Stasi continued after the completion of German reunifi cation. The Czechs

tried to ban men and women accused of serving as informers or collaborators from par-

ticipation in political life for stipulated time periods, but that led to abuses and was aban-

doned. The Poles at fi rst sought to draw a “thick line,” as they described it, between past

and present, but then they too conducted purges and opened police fi les. Some said the

Europeans might have benefi ted from “truth commissions,” as in Latin America or South

Africa, before which past offenders against human rights could come forward to admit

their misdeeds without necessarily expecting forgiveness.

Poland, Hungary, and the Czech Republic took the lead in the transition to democratic

freedoms, market economies, the rule of law, and pluralist societies, closely followed by

the three Baltic states, Estonia, Latvia, and Lithuania. They all looked forward to admis-

sion to the EU, which would eventually take place in 2004. The most prosperous eastern

European countries were those that adopted the most drastic economic measures, even

though the initial social consequences at the time were painful. Poland was the best exam-

ple of a country that benefi ted from such “shock therapy” and from the mid-1990s enjoyed

a vigorous expanding economy. Despite persistent problems, the overall economic balance

sheets showed progress throughout central and eastern Europe. The revolutionary upheav-

als of 1989 and their aftermath would long be remembered as the fi nal events in the Cold

War of the second half of the twentieth century.

More generally, the revolutions of 1989 helped to stimulate new cultural contacts,

economic exchanges, and migrations of people between eastern and western Europe. The

political and social differences that had often separated these regions of the continent began

to break down as the EU later expanded to include eastern Europe and as people in every

country increasingly identifi ed themselves as “Europeans.” New social and economic con-

fl icts emerged, but the long, violent history of warfare and military confrontations between

the major European nations seemed to have come to an end. At the beginning of the twen-

tieth century, in 1914, a crisis in the Balkans had swept the European powers into the cata-

strophic First World War. At the end of the twentieth century, by contrast, another crisis

in the Balkans led to a European-American collaboration that kept the confl ict within the

region, ended the violence, and ultimately brought countries such as Croatia, Serbia, and

Montenegro into new affi liations with the wider EU. Nobody could predict the future, of

course, yet the end of warfare within Europe had to be seen as one of greatest changes and

signs of progress in modern world history.

Confronting the past

For suggested further readings and useful Web sites, interactive exercises, glossary, chronologies,

and more, go to the Online Learning Center at www.mhhe.com/palmerhistory11e.

The 1989 revolution

assessed

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1019

C h a p t e r 26 EUROPE AND THE

CHANGING MODERN

WORLD

T he demise of  Soviet-style Communist regimes in Europe after 1989–1991 suggested to some observ-

ers that the history of the modern world would

henceforth evolve in only one direction. All modern

societies, according to such theorists, were in fact

already moving on their own erratic paths toward

a universal system of liberal democracies and free

market economies. But it soon became evident that

this imagined “end of history” was by no means the

only direction in which history could evolve. New

movements arose to challenge the global capital-

ist economy, the ascendancy of Western political

theories, the secularism of modern cultures, and

the powerful infl uence of the United States—which

had emerged from the Cold War as the world’s sole

superpower.

There were new and continuing confl icts

among competing religious or ethnic groups and

among nations that competed for power and commercial advantages in the global econ-

omy. Warfare itself changed when militant, extremist groups increasingly dramatized their

grievances or waged violent political campaigns through the indiscriminate tactics of ter-

rorist bombings. Facing such opponents, the most powerful national governments found

that traditional methods of international warfare—invasions, the surrender of enemy gov-

ernments, military occupations—could no longer achieve the decisive political and mili-

tary closure that modern nation-states expected to reach at the end of their wars.

No sooner had the Cold War receded into historical memory than global struggles

over natural resources, economic interests, and cultural values began to shape a new series

of international confl icts and wars. In the early twenty-fi rst century, various European

nations joined with the United States to become deeply involved in new confl icts in cen-

tral Asia and the Middle East. Responding to the attacks and continuing threats of radical

119. Western Europe after the

Cold War

120. Nation-States and

Economies in the Age of

Globalization

121. Intellectual and Social

Transitions in Modern

Cultures

122. Europe and International

Confl icts in the Early

Twenty-First Century

123. Social and Environmental

Challenges in the Twenty-

First Century

Chapter emblem: View of the planet Earth, photographed from Apollo 17 in December 1972. (Ingram Publishing)

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Chapter 26 Europe and the Changing Modern World1020

terrorists, the North Atlantic Treaty Organization (NATO) allies participated in extended

“peacekeeping” and military campaigns against Islamic groups in Afghanistan; and (in a

separate war) the British sent their army into Iraq as part of an American-led invasion of

that country in 2003. The much-anticipated post–Cold War “peace dividend” disappeared

almost immediately in a new cycle of military interventions outside of Europe, shadowy

intelligence operations, and deadly terrorist attacks.

Amid these cycles of international violence and confl ict, however, the deeper his-

torical patterns of human migration, global economic exchange, technological innova-

tion, transnational cultural interaction, and changing social mores continued to develop in

Europe and in every region of the world with which Europeans were involved during the

postcolonial era. Computer technologies and communications systems now moved infor-

mation around the globe with instantaneous speed; a global “culture industry” spread the

same music, fi lms, foods, and fashions throughout Europe and the wider world; evolving

conceptions of knowledge and scientifi c research reshaped intellectual debates as well as

artistic creativity; and new opportunities for the education, professional careers, and social

and political rights of women continued to expand in Europe and in most modern nations

everywhere. The pace of change seemed to be increasing in all spheres of modern life,

placing Europeans in a “global village” that was both united and divided by the processes

of contemporary globalization.

119. WESTERN EUROPE AFTER THE COLD WAR

Economic and Political Uncertainties in the New International Context

It was generally expected that the nations of central and eastern Europe would at fi rst suf-

fer in the post-Communist transition to democracies and market economies. What was

unanticipated was the burden of economic and political troubles that western Europe found

itself confronting. Buoyant and self-confi dent because of continuing prosperity during the

1950s and 1960s, the people of western Europe were fi rst jolted by the recession of the

1970s that combined economic stagnation with infl ation. By the mid-1980s the European

democracies had recovered, although with lower growth rates than in the past and with

discomfi ting levels of unemployment.

In Germany the economic situation after 1989 was complicated by

the reunifi cation with East Germany. The steep costs of absorbing East

Germany’s decayed economy and the decision to convert the East German

mark on an equal basis with the West German made infl ation a threat. To

combat it the German Bundesbank kept interest rates high. But tight money

choked off credit and investment when downturns occurred in the early 1990s, delaying

economic recovery for itself and its European neighbors and leading to currency devalua-

tions and instability. The German economy remained sluggish long after political unifi ca-

tion was completed.

Despite recovery, many West Europeans had remained unemployed. By the early

1990s unemployment rose to postwar highs. For the members of the European Union (EU)

the unemployment fi gure approached 19 million, or more than 12 percent of the work-

force. Long-term unemployment became a recognized phenomenon, as well as the discon-

certing corollary that many workers would never again be employed at their old skills.

Young people especially were hurt by shrinking job prospects, a structural problem that

persisted in the early twenty-fi rst century.

Costs of German

reunifi cation

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1021119. Western Europe after the Cold War

The Europeans slowly came to realize what had only been suspected

in the earlier recession, that the problem of unemployment was not tempo-

rary, limited to the business cycle, but was deep-seated and structural. High

labor costs that included generous welfare-state benefi ts for unemploy-

ment, disability, retirement, and extended paid vacations undercut western Europe’s abil-

ity to compete globally. An aging population raised health care costs as well as the expense

of state pension systems. Many European corporations, like their American counterparts,

began to restructure, sharply reducing employment rolls and introducing other econo-

mies. European multinational corporations shifted manufacturing operations to developing

countries in Asia and other parts of the world where labor costs and benefi ts were lower.

For the fi rst time in the years since 1945 the West European nations, echoing the British

example under the Thatcher government, took steps to roll back the welfare state as it had

evolved by consensus since the end of the Second World War.

Western Europe: Political Crises and Discontents

There was widespread dissatisfaction with the governing political parties of the center and

Center-Left, which were judged to have held offi ce too long and seemed incapable of pro-

viding innovative new plans for the future. Shocking revelations of scandal and corruption

tarnished the Christian Democratic and Socialist parties in several major countries.

The rising dissatisfaction with European political cultures could perhaps be seen most

clearly in Italy, where anger against the governing elite became symptomatic of the wider

European response to political cronyism. For years the Christian Democrats

had dominated the political scene, forming successive coalition govern-

ments, with the Right in the 1950s and with the Socialists and other parties

in the 1960s. By the 1970s in the midst of economic setbacks their popular

support shrank rapidly. In the 1980s the Socialists replaced them, heading a

cabinet for a record four years. Meanwhile the country’s second strongest party, the Italian

Communist Party, which had earlier demonstrated its independence from Moscow, was

excluded from government at the national level but won numerous mayoralties and control

of municipal councils. In 1989, with the collapse of communism and end of the Cold War,

the party renamed itself the Democratic Party of the Left and began a new quest for partici-

pation in the national government.

Over the years the Christian Democrats had kept a tight grip on power and patronage

and maintained close ties both to state-owned enterprises and private business. In good

part because the Christian Democrats projected themselves as Italy’s defenders against

communism they were shielded from scrutiny or criticism. But in the early 1990s the

Italian public learned of bribes, kickbacks, and payoffs for government contracts up to the

highest political levels. There had been illegal payments to the political parties and even

widespread collusion with organized crime. Former prime ministers, cabinet ministers,

and parliamentary deputies of all political parties as well as top business executives were

implicated. So tainted was the Christian Democratic Party that it returned to an earlier

name for itself, the Popular Party. The aroused electorate in 1993 approved a new electoral

system, one feature of which was to abandon proportional representation.

In the elections in 1994 both the former Christian Democratic Party

and the Socialist Party were routed. Three new parties won and formed a

Center-Right coalition. But the new parties inspired little confi dence and

their political leaders were unable to provide stability or serve as civic

Italy’s Christian

Democrats

New parties

Persistent

unemployment

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Chapter 26 Europe and the Changing Modern World1022

models. All the governments inherited public defi cits, economic slowdown, unemploy-

ment, social tensions, and the continuing corruption inquiries. In 1998 the Popular Party

joined with the Democratic Party of the Left to form a cabinet, and Massimo d’Alema,

the head of the former Communist Party, became prime minister. The reconstructed Com-

munists were committed to fi nancial stability, private enterprise, and economic growth as

the best means of advancing social needs. But this cabinet lasted only briefl y. In 2001 the

conservative media magnate Silvio Berlusconi headed a coalition that won the elections;

its Center-Right majority promised stability but also aroused misgivings about the ambi-

tious prime minister and his assertive Forza Italia Party (the name itself derived from the championship soccer team that he owned). Berlusconi nevertheless remained in offi ce

longer than most of his predecessors. Fending off charges of corruption and criticism of

his support for the U.S.-led invasion of Iraq, he overcame losses in a number of elections

and managed to retain power in the face of mounting domestic opposition. In 2005 he

reintroduced proportional representation in order to divide his opponents. Berlusconi was

widely criticized for his fl amboyant personal lifestyle and for his tendency to fuse his

private fi nancial interests with his political career, but he remained prime minister until

2011. Although Berlusconi was only one of the many European political leaders whose

self-absorbed lives and corruption seemed to undermine their ability to serve general

The populations of all European nations have become increasingly diverse as immigrants and mobile workers stream across national borders in search of better jobs, education, cultural freedom, and basic human rights. These children at a primary school in contemporary London represent the diverse racial, ethnic, and cultural backgrounds of the people who live in the multicultural nations of modern Europe. Immigration is constantly changing the workforce, schools, food, music, and neighborhoods of European cities; it also at times provokes anti- immigrant political movements and affects the political culture of every nation. (Christine Osborne/Corbis)

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1023

public interests, his career exemplifi ed the kinds of leadership problems that discredited

political elites in numerous European countries as people struggled with new economic

challenges or with enduring unemployment. Berlusconi himself was not really a major

historical fi gure, but he represented and contributed to a historical pattern that reappeared

in much of Europe during the early twenty-fi rst century.

Europe’s Immigrants and Refugees

We have already seen how the infl ux of millions of immigrants and refugees since the

1960s was altering the nature of European societies. In the 12 years from 1980 to 1992,

15 million new immigrants arrived to make their home in western Europe; and the pat-

terns of immigration continued over the following decades. By the end of the fi rst decade

in the twenty-fi rst century, roughly 8 percent of the population in countries such as

Germany, France, Britain, Spain, and the Netherlands consisted of immigrants who were

born outside of Europe, and millions of other people in European nations were the children

of recent immigrants. By 2010, demographers estimated that more than 31 million people

living in EU countries had immigrated from non-European countries. The EU launched a

controversial new program in 2009 to provide “EU blue cards” for skilled workers who

came to Europe from other parts of the world, thereby recognizing the growing economic

role of highly educated persons who looked for professional opportunities in Europe (even

as some European professionals were also leaving for the Americas or Asia). There were

also large migrations of people within the EU, a pattern that appeared, for example, in

the movement of workers from countries such as Poland into Britain and other nations in

western Europe.

Some immigrants went to Europe in search of political asylum, but most moved

in search of economic opportunities that they could not fi nd in their own impoverished

countries. Many regularly sent part of their earnings back to families in the places from

which they had immigrated. They worked in both the private and the public sectors of the

European economy, often taking lower-paid, less desirable jobs that Europeans did not

want. When the Cold War ended, some eastern Europeans joined family members who had

earlier gone into exile to escape the repression of Communist regimes; and many refugees

streamed into western Europe from the former Yugoslavia during the era of intense ethnic

violence in the 1990s.

The steady fl ow of immigrants visibly changed the ethnic composi-

tion of Europe. In Germany Turkish workers settled in with their families

as permanent residents; many reared their children as Muslims. In France

in a population of 57 million in the mid-1990s, at least 4 million were

foreign-born—mainly Arabs from North Africa and immigrants from other former French

African colonies but also Vietnamese from Southeast Asia. In Britain, with a population of

56 million, at least 2.5 million could be counted as “ethnic minorities,” mainly from vari-

ous parts of Asia, Africa, and the Caribbean. Nations that had long sent emigrants to all

parts of the world now found themselves absorbing large new populations from abroad.

The xenophobic hostility that had manifested itself earlier in western Europe again

fl ared up. In Germany there were physical assaults on Turks, fi rebombings, and other acts

of violence. Neo-Nazis in Germany, “skinheads” in Britain (who dated from the 1950s),

neo-Fascists in Italy, and followers in France of Jean-Marie Le Pen’s National Front agi-

tated the immigrant issue and even resorted to racist violence. Governments adopted laws

to reduce or eliminate further immigration. Germany in 1993 repealed a constitutional

Shifts in Europe’s

ethnic composition

119. Western Europe after the Cold War

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Chapter 26 Europe and the Changing Modern World1024

provision that had offered asylum to “all persecuted on political grounds,” but it became

virtually impossible to distinguish between political and economic refugees. France moved

toward “near-zero” immigration and abandoned a tradition going back to the Revolution of

granting citizenship to any child born on French soil. Unemployment and troubled econo-

mies made the social tensions potentially explosive and fed prejudices of all kinds, includ-

ing anti-Semitism.

Western Europe seemed to be settling into an era of persistent gloom,

pessimism, and political frustration during the 1990s. The end of the Cold

War had not automatically ushered in peace, prosperity, and harmony.

Unemployment, especially for the young, marred the economic scene. In

the euphoria following the collapse of communism, few had anticipated

the resurgence of the explosive nationalism that brought bloodshed to the Balkans. West-

ern Europe, for all its announced commitment to democratic institutions and for all its

military strength, feared the entanglements of military intervention so much that until the

American-led air offensive in Kosovo it refrained from decisive action. On the political

scene conservative and centrist political leaders offered few new initiatives, and the Left

seemed in disarray. On the other hand, many still believed, or hoped, that western Europe

would reach out to central and eastern Europe, continue to work toward a united Europe,

and play a central role in the world’s economy and international affairs. But even the most

optimistic Europeans increasingly recognized that the pursuit of such goals would require

bold new economic or political initiatives.

120. NATION-STATES AND ECONOMIES IN THE AGE OF GLOBALIZATION

Economic Recovery and a “Third Way” in Politics

In the 1990s the American president Bill Clinton helped to set the tone for a new type of

democratic politics in the Atlantic world. Taking his lead from Republican pro-business

policies, Clinton promoted a program that favored economic growth and productivity

but combined it with social issues such as health care and education and concern for

the disadvantaged and minorities. Clinton found a kindred political spirit in the buoyant

British Labour Party leader Tony Blair, who also adopted many conserva-

tive pro-business policies. Blair became the Labour leader in 1994 and soon

persuaded his party to abandon what still remained of its earlier socialist

and welfare-state platform. Neutralizing the party’s older trade union and

left-wing bastions, he projected an image of the party as “New Labour.” The best prescrip-

tion for prosperity was to encourage economic growth and industry but without satisfying

“pure selfi sh individualism” or neglecting social needs, which he argued that Thatcher and

the Conservative Party had done in their uncritical support for free-market capitalism. A

market economy, in Blair’s view, should also be linked to the social needs of people in all

the economic levels of British society. After four Conservative electoral victories since

1979 and 18 years of Conservative leadership, the country gave the Labour Party in 1997

its largest margin of victory since 1945.

As in the United States, the economy turned upward in Britain. Blair’s political

strength and popularity also enabled him to institute a number of constitutional changes.

The United Kingdom had long had a highly centralized government, with all power ema-

nating from the Westminster Parliament in London. The Labour Party with its large

Post–Cold War

gloom

Clinton and Blair

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1025120. Nation-States and Economies in the Age of Globalization

majority in the House of Commons took unprecedented steps toward a devolution of power

to a new parliament in Scotland, where the reform was intended to defuse a strong separat-

ist movement, and to a new legislative assembly in Wales. Each gained broad jurisdiction

over its internal affairs. Voters in Scotland for the fi rst time since the Act of Union of 1707

went to the polls to elect their own parliament, and in Wales voters elected an assembly for

the fi rst time ever. Critics saw the devolution of authority as the “undoing of Britain” and

an erosion of parliamentary sovereignty. Meanwhile, some Scottish nationalists pressed

for more autonomy and even, in some cases, for complete independence from Britain. Oth-

ers recognized that stability in both England and Scotland often required political change,

though they also wanted Scotland to remain within the United Kingdom. No one wished to

repeat the mistakes of earlier years when Britain’s resistance to home rule for Ireland had

led to continuing violence, partition, and prolonged strife.

In Northern Ireland matters seemed to be taking a more peaceful turn.

The Protestant and Catholic parties fi nally reached an agreement in 1998,

moving to end a violent confl ict that over the past 30 years had cost the

lives of over 3,000 people. The new arrangements authorized a legislative

council of representatives from Britain, Northern Ireland, and the Republic

of Ireland, and a sharing of power in a joint cabinet. Northern Ireland thus gained a new

opportunity for self-government, but the introduction of the new self-governing institu-

tions was delayed when the Irish Republican Army (IRA) and other paramilitary groups

resisted calls for complete disarmament. By 2005, however, the IRA had in fact given up

its weapons. The recurring violence between Catholics and Protestants thus gave way to a

more peaceful era in politics and social life. Northern Ireland remained within the United

Kingdom, but subsequent political agreements somewhat revised the “Northern Ireland

Assembly” and the system for power sharing between Protestant and Catholic leaders.

Although political tensions did not disappear, problems were now managed through

the new institutional structures. The people of Belfast and other Northern Irish cities

accepted the political settlement, and in 2007 the British army ended its long deployment

in the region.

In another momentous break with tradition a reform bill in 1998 stripped the heredi-

tary peers in the House of Lords of their parliamentary seats. The hereditary seats, it was

widely recognized, represented a political anachronism, untenable in a contemporary

democracy. A reorganized House of Lords would consist only of lifetime peers. Many in

Britain were opposed, but others placed the reform in the established tradition of broaden-

ing the suffrage and other democratic innovations.

Tony Blair’s popular support declined after he joined with the U.S. president George

W. Bush to launch a war in Iraq in 2003. Many in Britain opposed the war, and approval

for Blair’s leadership fell rapidly as the country tired both of the war and of Blair’s appar-

ent deference to American foreign policy during the era of the Bush presidency. In 2007

Blair resigned his position as leader of the Labour Party, giving way to Gordon Brown,

who had served as Blair’s chief economic minister and whose own term as Labour leader

and prime minister was dominated by the pervasive fi nancial problems of a major reces-

sion. British voters, who became increasingly disenchanted with Labour policies and with

the bland personality of Gordon Brown, turned toward the Conservative

Party in new elections in 2010. The Conservatives were unable to win a

clear majority in the new Parliament, however, without the support of the

moderate Liberal Democrats—a third party, which joined an unusual coali-

tion government that would be led by a new Conservative prime minister,

The settlement in

Northern Ireland

Cameron and

the Conservative

coalition

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Chapter 26 Europe and the Changing Modern World1026

David Cameron. The Conservatives introduced new austerity measures to balance the

British budget and to encourage more private investment in new economic enterprises.

The economic recovery nevertheless lagged, and Cameron’s domestic policies sparked

strong opposition from government workers, educators, and others who feared that the

budget cuts and other reforms would hamper an economic recovery. The British stead-

fastly kept their own currency and maintained their separation from other

aspects of European economic life, but they resembled the people of other

European countries in their disillusionment with the nation’s political elites.

Like many Europeans in the early twenty-fi rst century, the British often

expressed concern about their government’s ability to solve intractable eco-

nomic and social problems that threatened to diminish the infrastructure and welfare of

their modern national life. The British nevertheless reaffi rmed their collective national

identity during events such as the much-acclaimed London summer Olympics in 2012, and

nobody could doubt that Britain would continue to confront its problems within the stable

framework of its long-existing democratic political system.

In Germany and in France political leaders also represented the new politics of the

Left and Left-Center. In Germany the Social Democratic Chancellor, Gerhard Schröder,

replaced Helmut Kohl in 1998 after the Christian Democratic chancellor’s 16 years in

offi ce. Schröder, whose party’s moderate wing had triumphed over its more

radical elements, was committed to curbing the generous provisions of the

postwar welfare state, which had driven up labor costs and made it diffi cult

British economic

policies

Schröder

Women played an increasingly important role in twenty-fi rst-century European elections and national governments. Although she held different political views, German Chancellor Angela Merkel welcomed France’s Socialist presidential candidate Ségolène Royal (on the left) to Berlin in the spring of 2007, thereby showing indirectly how women were everywhere asserting their rights to the highest levels of national political leadership. (Herbert Knosowki/AFP/Getty Images)

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1027

to hire new workers. He too spoke of his program as a “middle way,” and—despite the

problem of chronic unemployment—the Social Democrats held on to power in the elec-

tions of 2002. Subsequent elections in 2005, however, failed to produce a clear majority

for either of the major German parties, and a coalition government emerged after extended

negotiations. Angela Merkel, the leader of the Christian Democrats, became not only

Germany’s fi rst woman chancellor but also the fi rst chancellor to reach that offi ce from the

former East Germany. Half of the cabinet ministries went to Social Democrats, however,

creating an unusual Left-Right collaboration.

Merkel and her Christian Democratic Party went on to win the German elections in

2009, which gave her party an absolute majority and enabled her to lead the country with-

out the constraints of a coalition government. Much of her new term in

offi ce was devoted to the problems of the European recession and to the

crisis of the “euro debt.” Merkel and her German political allies favored a

strong euro zone economy, but they worried about infl ation and pushed for

austerity measures when EU countries such as Greece and Spain fell deeply into debt.

Drawing economic strength from reforms that they had made in both the labor wage sys-

tem and government spending, the Germans gained a new dominance in European affairs

on the basis of their economy. The old German militarism had disappeared, but the new

Germany still played a decisive role in the EU and contributed disproportionately to

Europe’s broader infl uence in the world economy.

In France Daniel Jospin, a long-time moderate Socialist leader who

hoped to continue President Mitterrand’s reformist policies, became prime

minister in 1997. Two years earlier he had lost the presidential elections to

his conservative Gaullist opponent Jacques Chirac, but the Socialists soon won a majority

in the legislature; under the now established practice of “cohabitation” the president

appointed Jospin prime minister. Jospin, though still resolutely committed to a large role

for government on social issues, believed in moderation and pragmatism, favored a market

economy, and moved forward with the privatization of state-owned industries. The consti-

tution meanwhile was amended to curtail the powerful role of the Gaullist-inspired French

presidency by reducing the term of offi ce from seven to fi ve years. The Socialist Party was

now so fragmented, because of its dissatisfaction with Jospin, that in the 2002 presidential

election it could not muster enough votes for Jospin even to remain a candidate in the sec-

ond round of the election. It was the extremist right-wing candidate Jean–Marie Le Pen

who faced Chirac. Leftist and other voters, to their consternation, had to rally to Chirac,

who easily won reelection.

Chirac’s government became mired in various scandals and political confl icts that

undermined his effectiveness during his second term as president, but his Gaullist party

found a new leader for the elections in 2007. Nicholas Sarkozy mobilized popular nation-

alist sentiments and distrust of the Socialist candidate, Ségolène Royal, to win a narrow

victory. Royal’s candidacy marked another milestone in French politics, because she was

the fi rst woman to be nominated for the presidency by a major French political party. She

lost the election, but Sarkozy soon alienated much of the French electorate as he intro-

duced new austerity measures, attempted to reduce the infl uence of French labor unions,

and also came to be viewed as more concerned with the interests of wealthy supporters

than with the needs of workers or the lower classes. These issues, when

combined with ongoing economic problems and questions about Sarkozy’s

own mercurial personality, led fi nally to the election of another Socialist

president in 2012. François Hollande entered offi ce with plans to raise taxes

Merkel

Jospin

Sarkozy and

Hollande

120. Nation-States and Economies in the Age of Globalization

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Chapter 26 Europe and the Changing Modern World1028

on the rich and to stimulate the French economy through new government initiatives, but

he was like other modern European Socialist leaders in that he advocated a mixed econ-

omy that was by no means truly “socialist” in its organization or distribution of wealth.

The “middle way” had become a familiar formula for Left-leaning political leaders, and

the modest leadership style of Hollande suggested that this middle course would continue

in France. Meanwhile, like most socialist politicians in Europe, he continued to support the

EU, even when he questioned the German emphasis on austerity.

Despite the cycles of victory and defeat in national elections, the political leaders who

advocated a “middle” or “third” way between conservatism and welfare-state socialism

continued to promote a moderate reform agenda in the early twenty-fi rst century. Although

they insisted that governments should play an active role in dealing with social and eco-

nomic problems, they also called for reduced public spending, budget balancing, limits on

regulation, and a climate of opportunity for business enterprise. Pragmatism and modera-

tion seemed to be triumphant over older socialist views and the welfare-state ideology that

had prevailed in the years after the Second World War.

The European Union: Economic Cooperation, the Euro, and the Debt Crisis

By the opening of the twenty-fi rst century European integration had made remarkable

progress since six West-European nations had created the Common Market in the 1950s.

The European Economic Community, established in 1957, became the European Commu-

nity in 1965, and it in turn became the European Union (EU) under the Treaty of

Maastricht signed in 1991. Having grown to 28 member nations by 2013 (with more coun-

tries seeking to join), the EU was an economic superpower in which the total annual gross

domestic product (GDP) was close to 13 trillion euros (or 17 trillion dollars) and thus

larger than the annual GDP of the United States. The EU had become the world’s

largest single economic market with over 500 million people, closely bound together in

noneconomic ways as well.

As agreed under the M aastricht treaty, the EU embarked in the 1990s on one of its

most ambitious enterprises, the voluntary adoption of a common currency.

Twelve EU nations began to use the new “euro” in 2002 for fi nancial trans-

actions and the cash payments of daily life, replacing such historic national

currencies as the franc, the mark, and the lira. The number of euro zone

countries gradually increased, reaching 17 by 2013 and creating new problems for the

stability of the currency when several national governments fell into fi nancial crises as

they struggled to pay their accumulating national debts. 1 The euro’s value fl uctuated in

global fi nancial markets, but it quickly became a major international currency and com-

peted strongly against the American dollar. Three EU members—Britain, Sweden, and

Denmark—chose not to adopt the euro, and many of the new states that joined the EU after

2002 remained outside the euro currency zone, pending further internal economic reforms.

In another unprecedented step a European Central Bank was established in Frankfurt with

the authority to set monetary policy for the member countries. The effects of this monetary

policy on each country’s social and economic policies became a new controversial issue in

European politics as the various national economies came under a more centralized system

of monetary management and as a “sovereign debt crisis” developed in 2009–2010.

A common currency

1 The 17 euro zone countries in 2013 were Austria, Belgium, Cyprus, Estonia, Finland, France, Germany, Greece,

Ireland, Italy, Luxembourg, Malta, Netherlands, Portugal, Slovakia, Slovenia, and Spain.

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1029

The debt crisis emerged as several euro zone countries, including Greece, Ireland, and

Portugal, accumulated debts that far exceeded the levels they could manage. Having bor-

rowed extensively during the expansive early years of the “euro era,” these countries now

faced escalating interest costs, diffi culties in procuring new loans, and a likely default on

their payments. T he problems of the euro zone, on the most basic political and economic

levels, resulted from the fact that all member nations used the same monetary system but

continued to follow their own fi scal policies for expenditures, borrowing, and taxation. In

short, the monetary union of different national states had never expanded

into the kind of fi scal union that would normally shape the government

budget within a single national economy. When countries such as Greece

seemed to be heading toward default on their loans, the whole European

economy was threatened because the major European and American banks had loaned

large amounts of money to governments that could no longer repay their debts or the accu-

mulating interest; the banks themselves could therefore collapse because of their own

fi nancial exposure. In earlier eras, a country such as Greece might have worked its way out

of such a crisis by devaluing its currency in ways that allowed for more fl exibility in mak-

ing repayments or in stimulating foreign trade, but the unifi ed Euro currency precluded

strategies of devaluation or infl ationary adjustments. The euro debt crisis thus spread from

Greece and Portugal into the broader European fi nancial system, even though Greece

itself, for example, accounted for less than 2 percent of the total euro zone economy.

The European Central Bank and other agencies of the EU began providing emergency

loans, or “bailouts,” worth hundreds of billions of euros to avert the defaults that might

have caused a collapse of the major European banks and a possible breakdown of the

entire euro system. European political and fi nancial leaders were determined to avoid such

a breakdown, but the emergency loans were provided with the condition that the countries

receiving such assistance must introduce rigorous austerity measures to bring down the

defi cits in their current and future government budgets. Such measures

inevitably meant reductions in salaries, pension benefi ts, and other support

for public sector workers; and the falling government expenditures, in turn,

reduced demand in the private spheres of national economic life. Unem-

ployment rose to very high levels, and the weakening economies undermined the secure

standard of living that most Europeans had come to expect. Protests spread across Greece,

Spain, and other countries where workers were faced with major cutbacks in salaries and

benefi ts; and some Europeans proposed that Greece should be expelled from the euro zone.

Meanwhile, many people in the most affected countries blamed Germany and Chancellor

Angela Merkel for the austerity measures that accompanied each bailout, but the Germans

were understandably hesitant to provide a large share of the emergency funds unless the

governments and populations in the most indebted nations also agreed to reduce their

expenditures.

The leaders of the European Central Bank, the EU, and private banking groups all

looked for new strategies to defuse the debt crisis, restore fi nancial stability, avoid a

deeper recession, and create a more reliable euro zone system for fi scal management.

Representatives of the various euro zone governments—spurred on by the Germans and

the French—thus negotiated a plan to create a European Stability Mechanism (ESM),

which was a new organization that would collect money from member

nations (and also raise funds by selling ESM bonds) and then provide

loans for indebted governments or for government-funded bailouts of

major banks that fell under extreme fi nancial stress. In return for receiving

Greek debts

Austerity measures

European Stability

Mechanism

120. Nation-States and Economies in the Age of Globalization

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Chapter 26 Europe and the Changing Modern World1030

such loans, however, a national government had to show that it was adopting fi scal

reforms to ensure that its annual budget defi cit remained below a fi xed percentage of the

national GDP—that is, the defi cit in any year’s budget was not to exceed 3 percent of

the national GDP.

As this new “mechanism” went into operation in 2013, it was impossible to know if

the new system would actually be able to provide the loans and fi scal stability that would

be needed to ensure the long-term viability of the euro currency. The ESM was expected to

collect more than 500 billion euros for future bailouts or “fi rewalls” to protect vulnerable

governments, but it would not be easy to build such a large capital fund. It was nevertheless

apparent that Europe’s political and economic elites—and much of the population in their

various nations—remained strongly committed to the euro as an essential economic founda-

tion for the integrated European economy and as a symbolic affi rmation of the “European

project” that had been developing since the end of the Second World War. Although the debt

crisis became the greatest threat that had yet arisen to the campaign for greater European

integration, it seemed that Europe’s collective historical memories would help to ensure the

survival of the euro zone. To be sure, opinion polls showed that support for the EU fell

signifi cantly as people faced new austerities or considered the unattractive plan for divert-

ing their national resources into the collective funds of the European Stability Mechanism.

Neither austerity nor bailouts were popular political policies. Yet those many

Europeans who remembered the devastating history of the twentieth-century

world wars were not inclined to abandon their visions of a united, peaceful

Europe because of their concerns about a sovereign debt crisis. It was defi -

nitely a crisis, but the human suffering that accompanied this crisis could scarcely be com-

pared to the earlier European tragedies of the “Western Front” or the Great Depression or the

death camp at Auschwitz or the “ethnic cleansing” in Bosnia.

The European project, in short, seemed likely to survive the early twenty-fi rst-century

economic crisis, because the demise of a carefully constructed EU and common cur-

rency was a highly unattractive alternative. Indeed, the crisis itself was pushing Europe-

ans toward an increasingly integrated system of fi scal and political collaboration, despite

the national opposition of various political parties and the deep anger about government

austerity in every affected country.

The European Union: Politics and Transnational Collaborations

Meanwhile, amid the economic challenges of the debt crisis, more countries were apply-

ing for membership in the EU—countries such as Iceland, Montenegro, and Serbia. The

requirements for admission to the EU remained fi rmly attached to liberal political and eco-

nomic models. An applicant nation had to demonstrate its commitment to “liberty, democ-

racy, respect for human rights and fundamental freedoms, and the rule of law,” which

meant, among other stipulations, that would-be members had to have abolished capital

punishment. A functioning free market economy was also required. In contrast to its slow

expansion earlier, the EU now welcomed all European nations meeting its specifi cations,

and it also considered the possible admission of Turkey.

The EU was also “deepening” in additional ways. The Maastricht treaty had called for

the continued development of common foreign and defense policies. The failure of the

Europeans to intervene decisively to stop the violence in Bosnia or in Rwanda in the early

1990s and the later failure to thwart Serbia’s assault on Kosovo had embarrassed Europe-

ans who strongly supported universal human rights. In June 1999 the EU foreign ministers

Commitment to EU

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1031

resolved to develop a capacity for collective military action of their own. The EU began to

move toward creating an armed force supplementary to but not supplanting NATO. The

Atlantic alliance would remain fi rm, but a new “European Defense Agency” came into full

operation after 2005. The new military cooperation signaled Europe’s intention to end its

long-term dependence on the United States and to reject the status of “an American protec-

torate.” These developments both pleased and disturbed American policy makers who

wanted Europe to play an independent role, especially in European matters, but did not

wish to see resources drained off from NATO.

The EU political and bureaucratic structures did not change as rapidly

as the evolving economic or defense policies. The European Commission,

with an extensive civil service bureaucracy in Brussels, served as its execu-

tive and administrative branch and had the right to initiate proposals for

legislation. The European Parliament, elected by a European-wide electorate, supervised

the budget and debated Commission proposals. This representative body never aroused

much enthusiasm, and voter turnout in the member nations at election time remained low.

Although the heads of government held regularly scheduled meetings, the foreign minis-

ters of the member-nations meeting as a council also convened frequently to discuss and

vote on matters of common interest. The meetings of this council provided an opportunity

for the EU to take positions on international issues that extended well beyond Europe

itself. It had not been anticipated that the ministers would evolve into the chief policy-

making body, but in some ways it tied the EU to democratic support in a way that the

European Commission had failed to do.

The early impetus for supranationalism in the Union faded, but what

remained was the close cooperation of the ministers representing the member-

states, discussing and making decisions on the basis of a half-century of

common values and experience and a large body of jurisprudence and legal

principles under the jurisdiction of the Union’s Court of Justice. Each nation saw its stabil-

ity, prosperity, and security enhanced by membership in the Union and recognized that the

loss of sovereignty had been less than feared.

But there was strong opposition to a proposed EU constitution that

would have created the framework for a more coherent, integrated politi-

cal union. Although a majority of EU countries supported the proposed

constitution, voters in France and the Netherlands rejected the proposal

in 2005, thus stopping the plan for a shared constitution and throwing open the whole

question of how the EU might proceed with further political integration. Many Europeans

favored the proposed constitution, particularly for its broad guarantees of social and eco-

nomic rights and entitlements, but many others expressed concern about perceived threats

to European living standards and social values or to specifi c national interests—especially

after the major expansion of the EU membership in 2004. The EU was therefore not likely

to develop in the near future as its more visionary advocates had anticipated, even if in its

present form it had become an unprecedented example of economic and political coopera-

tion that fundamentally altered Europe. After centuries of European warfare, as we have

noted, the continent had reached a historical turning point in which war between the lead-

ing European powers seemed unimaginable.

Recognizing the signifi cance of this historical transition, the Nobel Prize commit-

tee in Norway awarded the 2012 Nobel Peace Prize to the EU for its multiple contribu-

tions to “the advancement of peace and reconciliation, democracy and human rights in

Europe.” The EU faced multiple threats to its vitality and even its survival in the wake

Common foreign and

defense policies

Cooperation or

supranationalism?

Opposition to EU

Constitution

120. Nation-States and Economies in the Age of Globalization

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Chapter 26 Europe and the Changing Modern World1032

of the debt crisis, but the continuing collaboration within the EU, as the Nobel Prize

committee suggested, still represented one of the major European achievements in the

era since 1945.

French-German cooperation, which had been the original driving force behind the

success of European integration, remained crucial. Many people in both countries looked

forward to an even closer French-German alliance, partly to give leadership to the newer

EU members from eastern Europe and partly to offset British infl uence. No one could pre-

dict, however, the future evolution of an enlarged and still growing EU that could con-

ceivably still unravel or that could become a potential rival to the global political and

economic power of the United States. In Europe the older strategic threat from the Soviet

Union was gone, but many Europeans now saw a threat to the European way of life in

American-led “globalization,” which Europeans criticized as a worship of

mass consumerism and a materialistic abandonment of social and cultural

values. To Europeans, even among admirers of American accomplish-

ments, the EU provided an essential balance to American hegemony in

world affairs.

The “New Economy”: The 1990s and Beyond

The global economy that reemerged after the Second World War seemed to enter a new

phase in the 1990s. Globalization was the key word. It meant the more rapid and effi cient

Uneasiness over

American-led

globalization

Europe’s transnational integration contributed to a collective “European project” in many spheres, including sports. The Euro Cup soccer tournament has taken place every four years since 1960, creating an intense, continent-wide interest and new national rivalries in which young men collided on athletic fi elds rather than battlefi elds. This photograph of the Dutch national team in a 2008 Euro Cup stadium suggests the intensity of modern European sports as well as the diversity of the athletes in contemporary European societies. (Laurence Griffi ths/Getty Images)

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1033

movement of capital and technology worldwide across all geographical and political

boundaries. T h e United States took the lead in globalization and in the development of

what came to be known as the “new economy,” but large multinational cor-

porations in Europe and Asia also had operations in all regions of the world.

The new economy was an information economy. At its base was the

computer revolution and the Internet, a word scarcely known at the decade’s

beginning. By the late 1990s it was in everyone’s vocabulary, and at the

disposal of tens of millions in offi ces and homes worldwide. It provided instant access to

information of all kinds. It was as if a new industrial revolution was setting in and at an

accelerated speed exceeding all previous industrial changes. Trade expanded. The fl ow of

private investment capital from the industrial nations to the developing countries quick-

ened. Living standards in many parts of the world rose, all tied to the growing trade and

investment that linked Europe to the global economy.

The processes of globalization often threatened salaries and employment in Europe,

however, as industrial production shifted to lower wage countries in Asia, Africa, and

Latin America. To enhance competitive power in the global marketplace

large corporations in the United States, Europe, and Asia were turning to

low-wage labor in poorer countries and buying other companies to become

even larger, within and across national lines. Multinational corporations

An information

economy

Multinational

corporations

The EU fostered political coop- eration as well as close economic collaboration among its mem- ber nations. This picture shows the president of the European Commission addressing mem- bers of the European Parlia- ment in Brussels—the city that served as headquarters for the European Commission’s often- criticized civil service bureau- cracy and as the site for regular meetings of the EU’s foreign ministers. (AP Photo/Thierry Charlier)

120. Nation-States and Economies in the Age of Globalization

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Chapter 26 Europe and the Changing Modern World1034

grew in numbers and size everywhere, and there seemed to be little concern over for-

eign companies’ taking over domestic corporations. London regained much of its fi nancial

prestige and strength as the fi nancial center for European mergers and amalgamations,

which accelerated as never before.

Despite warnings from some quarters against “irrational exuberance,” stock values

and other speculative investments in real estate kept climbing in the late 1990s and early

years of the twenty-fi rst century. Although some believed that the new era of economic

expansion would continue in both America and Europe, others recalled past speculative

fever and manias in history: tulips in the seventeenth century; colonization schemes in the

eighteenth; canals, railroads, gold, and silver in the nineteenth. Persons with broad histori-

cal perspectives were thus not surprised when both the housing “bubble” and stock values

collapsed in America and much of Europe after 2007, setting off a major

recession.

The computer revolution and the emergence of the new computer

technology companies were meanwhile creating a new economy in many

ways. They helped the economy to grow through greater productivity and

helped fuel the rising prices in global stock markets. Computer wizards as well as brokers,

fi nancial executives, and entrepreneurs of all kinds often became extremely wealthy at the

same time that the older industrial infrastructure was declining in many European and

American cities.

The two most important developments in the computer revolution that

spread across the world during and after the 1990s were the Internet and the

World Wide Web. The Internet began from modest beginnings in the late

1960s in the United States as a government-sponsored project to enhance

communications. Computer scientists around the world enlarged its scope and made it

easier for individuals and companies to utilize in their daily work. The World Wide Web

was fi rst developed in 1980 at a nuclear physics research center near Geneva when the

young English physicist Tim Berners-Lee developed a program to process information

through electronic associations and linkages. For a time it remained neglected, but by 1990

he and others had revived and perfected it. By means of the Internet, the World Wide

Web became a mass medium navigated by hundreds of millions around the world every

day, and its users continued to multiply. It revolutionized communications; people could

send electronic mail to each other, negotiate fi nancial transactions, make purchases, tap all

kinds of sources for information and education, and use the Web for entertainment as well.

Many compared the signifi cance of the new computer technology to the invention of the

printing press in the fi fteenth century. So rapidly was the new technology developing in

speed, effi ciency, and versatility that new, more powerful computer models became avail-

able almost immediately after earlier ones had fi rst come into use.

Nearly half of the world’s Internet users at the beginning of the new century were to

be found in the United States, and English became the dominant language of the Internet;

but the use of computers and Internet communications also developed rapidly in Europe.

Some Europeans expressed concern that the Internet represented not only an immense

step toward globalization but also toward Americanization. However, global competition

continued. A Finnish company held an early lead in the cellular phone market, computer

specialists developed innovative software programs in India, and companies in Taiwan

manufactured many of the most advanced computer chips. But a serious gap opened up

between those who had the opportunity and means to avail themselves of the new com-

puter technology and those who did not. A “digital divide” emerged both within countries

and between the wealthy and poorer countries of the world.

The computer

technology revolution

The Internet

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1035

The worldwide faith in the market and market forces presented other challenges for

those who wanted to reduce the growing gap in the wealth of different countries around the

world. Faith in a kind of oversimplifi ed laissez-faire market economy spread in Europe

and in other industrialized countries. Europeans often referred to the new economic creed

as “neo-liberalism,” thereby evoking the classical era of nineteenth-century political econ-

omy. There was a kind of “market fundamentalism,” not unlike a religious faith. Global-

ization and the world’s market economy, its advocates claimed, made intervention by

governments much less necessary than the advocates of Keynesian theories or European-

style welfare states had assumed. The neo-liberal argument, however, was also opposed by

critics everywhere. In France, where unemployment was high, some argued that it was

immoral for corporations to earn large profi ts while at the same time laying off workers in

what were described as “abusive job cuts.”

Meanwhile the growth in world commerce led to the creation in 1994

of a more formal World Trade Organization (WTO) to replace the General

Agreement on Tariffs and Trade (GATT) in effect since 1948. GATT had

been immensely successful in lowering tariffs and enlarging world trade

through informal bargaining procedures and agreements. By 1986 it had grown to include

92 nations. In 1995 the United States succeeded in creating a permanent, more formal

organization. The WTO was based in Geneva, Switzerland, and authorized to draw up and

oversee agreements, enforce trade rules, and settle disputes. It grew to 157 members by

2012, but its large ministerial meetings often met with opposition and demonstrations in

the streets. All European nations as well as the EU as a whole belonged to the WTO and

The founding of the

WTO

The computer revolution of the 1990s transformed modern culture and education as well as the management of government and economic institutions. These students at a computer center were working in what had become a “virtual library” for the distribution of knowledge, information, opinion and entertainment in the contemporary world. (Bill Bachmann/Photoedit, Inc.)

120. Nation-States and Economies in the Age of Globalization

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Chapter 26 Europe and the Changing Modern World1036

often appealed to the organization to mediate trade disputes with countries throughout the

world. The negotiated free trade agreements, in the view of protestors and other critics,

paid little attention to environmental and labor conditions, or even to the widespread

exploitation of child labor in the poorer, industrializing countries outside Europe and North

America. The poorer nations, for their part, saw themselves at risk of losing out on cheaper

labor costs, one of their chief competitive advantages in relation to Europe; and they point-

edly underscored the large share of ecological damage for which the industrial nations

were responsible. Subsidies to agriculture in Europe and other wealthier regions placed the

less industrial nations, dependent on either the export or import of food, at a disadvantage.

Critics of the new international trade system therefore rejected arguments for free trade as

a means of enhancing living standards for all. The violence of the popular protests at WTO

meetings in Europe and elsewhere offended many, but they aroused new sensitivities to

social issues worldwide.

Globalization, already visible in earlier periods of the world’s history, and especially

so in the nineteenth and twentieth centuries, seemed to be the defi ning social and economic

theme for Europeans in the twenty-fi rst century. National boundaries, though not disappear-

ing, were increasingly transcended by cross-boundary transactions and global exchanges in

the world of communications, industry, culture, travel, food, popular entertainment, even

apparel. Some Europeans still viewed globalization as a form of “Americanization,” but

by the early twenty-fi rst century the global system was by no means simply an American

export. The giant multinational corporations, no longer exclusively European

or American but home-based in nations all over the world, depended as never

before on the movement of capital, goods, trained personnel, technology, and

ideas that fl owed across traditional national boundaries. A new global culture

that was never just “European” or “American” or “Asian” or “African” cir-

culated everywhere and drew on a vast, ongoing multicultural exchange among people and

social institutions.

121. INTELLECTUAL AND SOCIAL TRANSITIONS IN MODERN CULTURES

Intellectual and cultural life does not usually evolve through the dramatic public events or

confl icts that reshape politics or economic relations. Yet the transitions in modern intellec-

tual life and social mores have transformed modern history during all the years of interna-

tional confl ict and revolutionary change that we have discussed. People defi ne themselves

and their cultures in activities that go far beyond politics and economics. They constantly

develop new forms of knowledge, philosophy, religious belief, creative art, and social

life, all of which both infl uence and respond to the transformations of the modern world.

Although much of twentieth-century culture had its origins in the years 1871 to 1914, sci-

ence, philosophy, the arts, and religion crossed new frontiers or took new directions over

the course of the twentieth century and set the stage for new trends in the early twenty-fi rst

century. Even to single out a few of these developments will suggest the wide-ranging

changes of the contemporary era.

The Advance of Science and Technology

Science and technology expanded rapidly in the half-century before the First World War,

but the pace quickened in the following years. Scientifi c discovery advanced more rapidly

Critics of

globalization

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1037121. Intellectual and Social Transitions in Modern Cultures

in the years after 1919 than in all previous human history. For one thing, more scientists

were at work. At the opening of the twentieth century, about 15,000 scientists were explor-

ing scientifi c problems; in the latter half of the century, over a half-million scientists were

engaged in research around the world, more than in all previous centuries combined. Over

85 percent of all scientists who have ever lived have been at work in our own era.

The average person in Europe and other industrialized societies expe-

rienced the triumphs of science most dramatically in medicine and public

health. Nothing in previous medical discovery could equal the contributions

of sulfa drugs, antibiotics, cortisone, and other substances used to combat

formerly crippling or deadly diseases, including pneumonia and tubercu-

losis; hormones, adrenaline, and insulin were also available to promote health or relieve

suffering. Vaccines combated a number of dread diseases, including, after 1955, polio-

myelitis; by 1975 smallpox (a dreaded disease in early modern Europe) had been all but

eradicated worldwide. Remarkable accomplishments in surgery included the transplanting

of vital organs. Apart from the advances in medical science, Europeans benefi ted from

modern technology in almost every aspect of their daily lives. For entertainment, radio and

the motion picture were available and, after the Second World War, television. Washing

machines, freezers, frozen foods, and microwave ovens lightened household duties. After

1947 airplanes could fl y faster than the speed of sound; giant aircraft could traverse huge

distances in a few hours; tourist travel to distant parts of the earth became commonplace. A

world of electronics, robotics, rocketry, and space technology opened. Many people came

to believe that technological solutions could be found for every problem.

It was therefore a shattering experience when the fatal disease AIDS (Acquired

Immuno-Defi ciency Syndrome) appeared in the early 1980s and by the 1990s was assum-

ing global epidemic proportions. The fi rst case was reported in the United States in mid-

1981, but the disease seems to have originated earlier and elsewhere. Deaths from the

disease mounted, and it was estimated that as many as 2.3 million Europeans were liv-

ing with the HIV infection in 2010. The disease spread especially in Russia, Ukraine,

and some other countries of eastern Europe, but the new illness affected people in every

European society. While medical scientists worked in the early twenty-fi rst century to

devise a preventive vaccine or to prolong the lives of its victims, educational efforts to

stop its spread focused on sexual practices, intravenous drug use, and the protection of

blood supplies. Uncertainty and anguish increased as people struggled with a physiologi-

cal threat that was sometimes compared to the Black Death of the fourteenth century or the

deadly worldwide fl u pandemic of 1918.

Nuclear Physics

In pure, or theoretical, science the transformation of physics in the twentieth century could

be compared only to the scientifi c revolution of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries.

Early in the twentieth century scientists had discovered the natural radioactivity of certain

elements, German physicists such as Max Planck and Albert Einstein had developed quan-

tum physics and relativity theory, and Einstein had propounded his now famous formula

for the conversion of mass into energy ( e   5   mc 2 ). After 1919 a series of discoveries led to a deeper understanding of the atom. The cyclotron, developed by British scientists in 1932

at Cambridge University, made it possible to penetrate or “bombard” the nucleus of the

atom at high speed. The nucleus, scientists learned, consisted not only of protons but of

other particles like neutrons as well. In 1938 the German chemist Otto Hahn discovered

Medicine and public

health

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Chapter 26 Europe and the Changing Modern World1038

that when he bombarded the atomic nucleus of the heavy radioactive element uranium

with neutrons, it became unstable and split into two, which meant that energy trapped

within the atom could be released. Additional scientists, including Lise Meitner, a

German-Jewish scientist who had been forced to fl ee Nazi Germany, helped to expand

upon these fi ndings. In 1939 Nils Bohr, a Danish physicist, brought word of these develop-

ments to American scientists.

The implications of this breakthrough in theoretical science were clear. If the atoms

in a large amount of uranium were split in a chain reaction, enormous amounts of energy

would be released. In the troubled atmosphere of 1939 the possibility arose of its use for

military purposes. When the war came, scientists in the United States, including Einstein,

who had fl ed the Nazis in 1934, prevailed upon the American government to explore its

military use before the Germans succeeded in doing so. In 1942 American

and British scientists and European refugee scientists such as the Italian

Enrico Fermi brought about the fi rst sustained nuclear chain reaction. This

in turn led to the secret preparation of the atomic bomb at Los Alamos, New

Mexico and to its use by the United States against Japan at Hiroshima and Nagasaki in

August 1945.

After the war even more staggering technical developments followed. The hydrogen

or thermonuclear bomb was built independently by the Americans and by the Soviets in

1952–1953; it involved nuclear fusion, or the joining together of hydrogen and other ele-

ments at great heat, using the atomic or fi ssion bomb as a detonator with a stupendous

chain reaction. Such thermonuclear fusion is responsible for the energy of the sun itself.

The fi rst use of nuclear energy was therefore for military purposes, but it held con-

structive peacetime potential; a tiny grain of uranium (or plutonium, another radioac-

tive element) could produce power equal to almost three tons of coal. By the 1990s over

15 percent of the world’s electricity was generated by nuclear power plants; in France, over

65 percent. At the same time the awesome explosive powers unleashed by the scientists

and the dangers of radioactivity were alarming. Accidents in nuclear power plants, includ-

ing the 1986 accident at Chernobyl in Ukraine, threatened the surrounding population

and environs with the release of radioactive gases; nor could nuclear meltdowns be ruled

out. Popular opposition to the building of nuclear power plants grew in many European

countries, as did concern over their proper design and the disposition of nuclear waste.

Concerns about nuclear power became most infl uential in Germany, where the government

announced plans, in 2011, to phase out all nuclear power plants within ten

years.

In later years of the twentieth century and continuing into the twenty-

fi rst century scientists used linear accelerators like the cyclotron and even

more powerful colliders and supercolliders as atom smashers to explore the nature of

the atom and the behavior of its subatomic particles. Theoretical physicists continued to

advance complex new concepts such as string theory and thus persisted in their search for

an overarching theory that would explain the interrelationship of gravity, electromagne-

tism, and nuclear force, all of which were to be found in the subatomic world and in the

cosmos as a whole.

Social Implications of Science and Technology

As in the case of nuclear physics, science in the contemporary age was closely allied with

technology and the organized effort to exploit new scientifi c fi ndings. Governments and

The fi rst atomic bomb

The nuclear danger

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1039

industries subsidized most scientifi c research. Laboratory equipment was expensive, and

complex investigation required large-scale collaborative efforts; the solitary scientifi c

investigator virtually disappeared. The subsidization of research for national purposes

raised fears that scientifi c discoveries might serve political goals rather than meet pressing

social or human needs.

Science had always affected the way people thought about themselves and their uni-

verse. The Copernican revolution had removed the earth from its central position in the

scheme of things; Darwinian evolution had demonstrated that Homo sapiens was biologi- cally a species that had evolved and survived. The philosophical implications of contem-

porary physics were only vaguely understood, yet they reinforced theories of relativism in

all spheres. Ironically, at the very time that the average person was awed by the capabili-

ties of science, scientists themselves recognized that they did not possess a magic key to

the nature of things. Generally they claimed no more than the ability to determine, or guess

at, relationships, which in the world of the atom (as in the cosmos itself) remained mysteri-

ous and uncertain.

Some thoughtful persons questioned scientifi c and technological

advance and asked whether modern technology had grown beyond human

control. Ecologists pointed to the wastage and despoliation of natural

resources and the threat to the environment, thus helping to shape the

political agendas of “Green” parties in various European nations. In another way the life-

preserving features of medicine and public health could contribute to overpopulation and

to perhaps unmanageable pressure upon the limited resources within Europe and around

the globe. The techniques developed to save or prolong human life also raised ethical and

legal issues, including new defi nitions of life and death, and the rights in such matters

of patients, families, hospitals, and physicians. Questions arose over test-tube fertiliza-

tion and other forms of artifi cial conception made possible in the late 1970s, and later

over stem-cell research using human embryos. Those who condemned modern technol-

ogy sometimes extolled the virtues of a prescientifi c and preindustrial age; others called

for sharper awareness of how scientifi c advances often posed new dangers or new ethical

dilemmas, even when the new science seemed to enhance human health or life expectancy.

In an age of destructive weaponry and threats to the environment, the advance of science

and technology was no longer unequivocally equated with the idea of progress.

Meanwhile, in the quest to understand nature the old divisions between the sciences

broke down and new sciences appeared. Biochemistry, cell and molecular biology, bio-

physics, astrophysics, geophysics, and other subdisciplines arose; and all made intensive

use of mathematics. In biology genetics made striking advances. While physicists discov-

ered new atomic particles, biochemists isolated the organic substance found in the genes

of all living cells, the chemical carriers of all hereditary characteristics. When scientists

deciphered the genetic “code” and synthesized the basic substance of heredity (DNA), it

became possible by splicing genes to alter the characteristics of plant and animal species

and to clone or reproduce in the laboratory an animal such as a frog or a sheep with desired

hereditary characteristics. The implications for the possibility of even human cloning at

some future date were staggering. Biotechnologists were also revolutionizing food produc-

tion by genetically engineering new varieties of crops, which provoked strong objections

from European critics who saw such modifi cations as a threat to safe food and human

health. European scientists meanwhile became deeply involved after 2000 in the interna-

tional research on the human genome—the more than 3 billion chemical units of DNA that

control the human body and also contribute to genetic-based illnesses.

Questioning scientifi c

advances

121. Intellectual and Social Transitions in Modern Cultures

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Chapter 26 Europe and the Changing Modern World1040

The other life sciences and social sciences also grew in importance as fi elds for

European research. Psychological exploration of human behavior, as well as the treatment of

mental and emotional disorders through psychiatry and psychoanalysis, expanded rapidly.

Freud, who had fi rst developed his theories of psychoanalysis before 1914, became more

widely known in the 1920s. His emphasis on the human sex drive and sexual repression was

later much modifi ed. Many students of human behavior argued that his contributions were

not universally or scientifi cally valid but refl ected the values of pre-1914, middle-class,

male-dominated Viennese society. A variety of schools emerged with different interpreta-

tions and techniques, and drugs were developed to treat psychological

depression and other mental illnesses. But the search, initiated by Freud, for

the unconscious sources of individual and collective human conduct remained

a hallmark of contemporary thought and culture.

Anthropologists and other social scientists increasingly stressed the relativism of all

culture. They denied notions of cultural superiority or hierarchies of cultural values, or

even that there were objective criteria of historical progress. If Western societies, they

noted, made notable progress in science and technology, other cultures accomplished more

in self-discipline, individual integrity, and human happiness. The adjective “primitive,” as

opposed to “civilized,” tended to disappear, and a cultural humanism emerged that recog-

nized and esteemed values that had evolved outside the European tradition. The French

anthropologist Claude Lévi-Strauss exemplifi ed this tendency in a series of infl uential

books that developed the ideas of “structuralism” during the 1950s and 1960s. Arguing

that deep cultural structures and rituals in all societies serve common symbolic purposes

and help sustain social practices such as family life or respect for ancestors, Lévi-Strauss

emphasized the underlying similarities in human cultures—even when the specifi c content

of rituals varies widely in different places and times. Such theories spread from anthropol-

ogy into the humanities and challenged earlier hierarchical beliefs about Europe’s superi-

ority to non-European cultures.

Space Exploration

Among the most dramatic developments in science and technology in the second half of

the twentieth century was space exploration. In the 1950s the Soviets and

the Americans competed with each other as part of the Cold War; each

made important advances in rocket research. Both the United States and

the U.S.S.R. mastered multistage rocket launching. The Soviets opened the

space age when in 1957 they launched Sputnik, the world’s fi rst artifi cial satellite; in 1961 they sent the fi rst human, Yuri A. Gagarin, in orbital fl ight around the

earth. The Americans sent their own astronauts into space in 1961 and 1962. In the 1960s

both countries launched unmanned automated spaceships to probe and explore the moon

and then the planets of the solar system and their satellites. Early in the 1960s President

Kennedy responded to the Soviet advances in space exploration by pledging that Ameri-

cans would land on the moon before the end of the decade. In 1969 three American astro-

nauts, as planned in Project Apollo, made the quarter-million-mile journey to the moon,

and millions of viewers around the globe watched on television as Neil Armstrong took his

fi rst steps on the moon’s surface.

The Soviets also conducted impressive space probes to the moon, to Mars, and to

Halley’s Comet, whose behavior had been predicted in the seventeenth century and which

once again returned close enough for observation in 1986. The Soviets also built a

Impact of Freud

U.S.-Soviet

competition

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1041

permanent space station and set records in testing human endurance in weightless space.

As time went on, Cold War rivalries played less of a role in space exploration, but mili-

tary objectives were never completely absent. The United States and U.S.S.R., and other

countries in later decades, launched spy satellites for reconnaissance and

information gathering.

In the 1980s space enterprise showed promise of international coop-

eration and was no longer confi ned to the military superpowers. France,

Japan, China, and other countries became spacefaring nations, planning and

launching satellites and space probes of their own. The European Space Agency carried

out its own operations, launching communication satellites and also sending astronauts

to work with the Russians on orbiting space stations. After the Cold War the Americans

and the Russians began to cooperate in space, most notably in the development and joint

use of a Russian-built space station. On the other hand, the need for human expeditions

came under serious scrutiny. Dismayed by the human cost of several deadly accidents,

some critics contended that unmanned space fl ights might accomplish more, at less cost,

and at less risk to human life. Many objected to the enormous expense of space exploration

when acute social needs at home remained unfulfi lled. But its champions in Europe and

International

cooperation

European space missions provided another opportu- nity for international coop- eration in the late twentieth century. These cosmonauts were preparing for a rocket launch that would take them to an orbiting space station in 2001. Their mission was an example of transnational space programs, because the crew included a French woman and two Russian men, and they were launched on their fl ight from a site in Kazakhstan. (Mikhail Gaychyev/AFP/Getty

Images)

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Chapter 26 Europe and the Changing Modern World1042

elsewhere defended it as part of the continuing human effort to cross new frontiers, expand

horizons, and explore the unknown. The twentieth century may ultimately be remembered,

apart from the destructiveness of its terrible wars, as the century in which humans fi rst set

foot on the moon, and with robot spaceships devised and guided by human intelligence,

began to explore the universe.

Philosophy: Existentialism in the Postwar Years

In the early years after the Second World War, a new group of philosophers in Europe

developed a loosely organized body of ideas called “existentialism.” The existentialists

formed no one school of thought and held no coherent body of principles. There were reli-

gious and atheist existentialists. Yet all held some beliefs and attitudes in common. All

refl ected a troubled civilization, a world disturbed by war and oppression, a civilization of

material progress and moral uncertainty in which the individual could be crushed by the

very triumphs of science and technology, and in which human life itself seemed to have

lost higher purpose or inherent meaning.

Existentialist thought owed a debt to Pascal, Nietzsche, and others who had under-

scored the tragic element in human existence and the limitations on the power of human

reason. More directly it owed a debt to Søren Kierkegaard, the nineteenth-

century Danish religious philosopher. But it was French writers, and

especially Jean-Paul Sartre, who after the Second World War developed Jean-Paul Sartre

Existential philosophy attracted many adherents in Europe and North America during the decades after the Second World War, partly because it emphasized human freedom and affi rmed the signifi cance of individual actions in an impersonal, modern world that seemed to lack inherent meanings. The infl uential existential author Jean-Paul Sartre sits here in one of his characteristic philosophical and social places—alone at a Parisian cafe. (Dominique Berretty/Gamma-Rapho via Getty Images)

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1043

existentialist thought in literature and philosophy in a form that for a time gave it a wide

popular following. In a hostile world, the existentialists contended, human beings had to

make choices and commitments on their own. They were “condemned to be free” and

were alone responsible for the choices and actions that defi ned their very existence; for

most existentialists, the nature of a human being’s existence was defi ned by what he or she

did rather than by some deeper spiritual essence. Authentic existentialists therefore had to

move beyond philosophical contemplation and take action in the world, even though they

were aware that human action might fail to change the world. Albert Camus, infl uenced

by the existentialists, drew upon the myth of Sisyphus, who was condemned continuously

to roll his stone uphill, though it always rolled back down again. The very humanity of

Sisyphus grew out of courage and perseverance at a hopeless and absurd task. Existential-

ism emphasized the anguish of human existence, the frailty of human reason, the fragility

of human institutions, and the need to reassert and redefi ne human freedom. Although its

popular following waned and Sartre himself was dislodged from his earlier lofty eminence,

existentialism never completely disappeared from contemporary philosophy or religion.

Philosophy: Logic and Language; Literary Criticism; History

Professional philosophy in the twentieth century seemed to contribute less to an under-

standing of contemporary problems than in the past. Always concerned with the origins

and nature of knowledge, it had also shared an interest in metaphysics and ethics. In the

early twentieth century it became highly analytical, focusing especially on the limits and

criteria of knowledge. In the formal study of logic, mathematical symbols replaced the use

of traditional language. On the eve of the First World War the English philosophers

Bertrand Russell and Alfred North Whitehead had explored logic and mathematics in their

monumental Principia Mathematica. In the 1920s an infl uential group of philosophers and mathematicians in Vienna, among them Ludwig Wittgenstein, sought to introduce the

methodology and precision of mathematics into the study of philosophy as a whole, in

what they called logical positivism. They rejected the ambiguities of language used in tra-

ditional speculation on morals and values, turning away from the nondemonstrable—that

is, “God, death, what is higher,” in Wittgenstein’s phrase. The Vienna group disintegrated

in the 1930s and Wittgenstein himself moved to England, but logical positivism remained

infl uential. Most professional philosophers continued to emphasize scientifi c rigor and lin-

guistic analysis. A smaller but growing number, responsive to contemporary ethical con-

cerns, devoted themselves to questions about moral choices and human responses to social

dilemmas.

New studies in philosophy, linguistic analysis, and semiotics (that is, the study of

signs and symbols in communication) drew attention to the complex relation between lan-

guage and reality. Philosophers also challenged many of the dualisms taken

for granted in traditional European thought. In literary studies “decon-

struction” or “poststructuralist” theory emerged after the 1960s to offer

new methods of analysis and criticism. Its proponents sought to analyze,

or “deconstruct,” a body of writing or “text” (which could be a painting or other kind of

cultural object as well as a traditional narrative) to examine its implicit cultural assump-

tions and its indebtedness to its cultural traditions. No single valid meaning was to be

attached to any individual work. According to its advocates, deconstruction made it pos-

sible to reveal the philosophical, class, racial, ethnocentric, or sexual assumptions hidden

in the language of a work. It also contested older hierarchical standards of literary quality,

Deconstruction

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Chapter 26 Europe and the Changing Modern World1044

blurred distinctions between elite and popular culture, made less of a dichotomy between

fact and fi ction (and other dualisms), and broadened the existing canon of writings studied

in literature, history, law, religion, and other disciplines.

The work of the critic was said to be as much a creative enterprise as literary or artistic

creation itself. Propounded originally in the late 1960s in broad philosophical terms by the

French philosopher Jacques Derrida, and developed further by other writers and scholars of

various disciplines and nationalities, deconstruction also attracted a wide following in the

United States. Its opponents viewed it as abandoning traditional literary history and reject-

ing rational, critical standards that had shaped modern thought since the Enlightenment.

The writing of history also underwent a profound change. A group

of French historical scholars (called the Annales school, from a journal with which they were associated) gained wide infl uence after the Second

World War. They focused on long-term elements in historical change such

as population, economy, climate, and natural resources; relegated politics

to a lesser role; and avoided the traditional narrative of “events.” They studied also the

lives of ordinary people in the past and tried to reconstruct the collective outlook of social

classes. The newer social history in France, England, Italy, and Germany also paid special

attention to the inarticulate and illiterate and to all those with strong oral traditions, such

as the enslaved people whom Europeans had transported to the Americas, the English

working classes, the common people in Renaissance cities, or the bourgeois families in

German principalities. The goal of such historical work was to reconstruct the cultures

and everyday lives of people who left few written sources. There was also an important

expansion in the historical study of women from antiquity to the present, leading to cul-

tural and social reassessments of entire historical eras and a new interest in how ideas

or assumptions about gender shaped political systems and workplaces as well as the rela-

tionships within European families. A variety of social themes received new historical

attention as historians redefi ned their more traditional studies of politics and society: mar-

riage, divorce, the family, childhood, sexuality, even insanity and death through the ages.

The French historian and social theorist Michel Foucault, for example, helped to stimulate

new historical studies of psychology, education, and hospitals by stressing that the knowl-

edge of “experts” always became linked to the exercise of social power. For their part,

many traditional historians who had not been wholly insensitive to these concerns widened

their own narratives to include such social and cultural themes.

The Creative Arts

The revolution against older traditions in the creative arts assumed new dimensions. Ever

since the Renaissance, visual artists had followed certain norms of representation and

space perspective. But much of twentieth-century art prided itself on being nonobjective;

it rejected the idea of imitating or reconstructing nature, or mirroring it with realism or

photographic fi delity. The artistic revolution inaugurated in France before 1914 acceler-

ated in the interwar years and after 1945. It seemed to mirror the political turbulence of the

times and the disillusionment with rationalism and optimism. It refl ected the infl uence of

Freudian and other schools of psychology and the emphasis on the unconscious and irra-

tional, as well as the relativity of the new physics and its uncertainties about the nature of

matter, space, and time.

Artists in the contemporary era continued the pre-1914 experimentation in color,

form, and use of materials, but went well beyond, seeing the world around them in new

ways. The innovative work of earlier artists such as Picasso—whose cubist paintings

New interests among

historians

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1045

had systematically distorted and deformed material objects or human

fi gures—was followed by increasingly abstract artistic experiments dur-

ing the later twentieth century, as may be seen by comparing Picasso’s Les Demoiselles d’Avignon (see p. 633) with Matta’s Fabulous Race-Track of Death at the top of this page. Some artists expressed themselves through geometric form; others left reality behind and tried to represent their own unconscious fears or desires.

The results were fascinating but frequently baffl ing, as in the painting Family Life by the French artist Jean Dubuffet (see p. 1046). After the Second World War many European

artists worked in the United States, but new experimental painting and sculpture continued

to develop in Europe’s major cities and in creative artistic communities that were scattered

across the continent.

Seeing the world in

new ways

FABULOUS RACE-TRACK OF DEATH (INSTRUMENT VERY DANGEROUS TO THE EYE) by Matta (Chilean, lived in France, United States, Italy, 1911–2002)

This work is an example of the modern trend toward abstract art, though it also shows the infl u- ence of European surrealism. Painted in 1939 or 1940 by a Chilean artist who worked in Paris during the 1930s, moved to the United States to escape the Second World War, and later lived mostly in Italy, this picture suggests the sense of dread and dislocation that creative artists often expressed during and after the era of total war. The objects and fi gures in this painting cannot be identifi ed, but the artist uses forms, colors, and shapes to convey the chaos and disorder of a world that is racing toward destruction. Matta’s artistic abstractions as well as his migratory life on three continents represent recurring tendencies in both the work and personal experi- ences of many twentieth-century artists. (Scala/Art Resource, NY. Reproduced by permission of The Henry Moore Foundation)

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Chapter 26 Europe and the Changing Modern World1046

Contemporary art resulted in original and striking expressions of form and color, but

the conscious subjectivism widened still further the gap between artist and public. The art-

ist, painter, and sculptor (and the poet, musician, playwright, and novelist, who were also

rejecting the older conventions) were conveying their own visions of the world, not an

objective reality that could easily be understood by others. Perhaps the greatest innovation

was that the public, baffl ed as it was by much of contemporary art, came to accept the

avant-garde as normal, even if on occasion it rebelled against it. Democratic societies

accepted the need for artistic experimentation and innovation, which had been frowned

upon or banned as degenerate and socially dangerous in totalitarian societies like Nazi

Germany and the Soviet Union. Representational art, of course, never completely disap-

peared anywhere, and many artists reaffi rmed it, contributing to a growing pluralism in

contemporary artistic styles.

FAMILY LIFE by Jean Dubuffet (French, 1901–1985)

Dubuffet’s diverse images and patterns conveyed sensibilities, emotions or personal preoccupa- tions that viewers found both baffl ing and fascinating. He experimented with a wide range of col- ors and mysterious shapes in paintings such as this typical work of the early 1960s, which shows how modern European art had moved far beyond its Renaissance and neoclassical origins. (DeA Picture Library/Art Resource, NY)

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1047

The focus on subjectivism and the unconscious was refl ected in litera-

ture too. The reconstruction of lost time and the unfolding of the individu-

al’s innermost experience through a stream of consciousness and fl ood of

memories, which had appeared fi rst in the work of Marcel Proust and James

Joyce shortly after the First World War, remained important for a new gen-

eration of novelists and playwrights after 1945. Not only writers but also cinematogra-

phers experimented with probing the unconscious in evocative but mystifying ways. All of

this cultural experimentation contrasted with the popular entertainment provided through

the mass media, especially movies and daily diets of television “soap operas” and

“sit-coms.”

Sometime in the early 1970s the phenomenon of postmodernism

emerged in architecture, literature, and other art forms. In all areas the

postmodernists borrowed from the past and mixed the old and new, and

the popular and elite, to suit their tastes. Unlike modernists from the late nineteenth

century on, the postmodernists did not reject the commercialization and materialism of

contemporary culture but embraced it and incorporated it in new ways, often with humor.

The American architect Robert Venturi and his collaborators wrote a book called Learn- ing from Las Vegas (1972). American cities, in fact, represented a kind of postmodern landscape for many European theorists, such as the French writer Jean Baudrillard, for

whom the millions of speeding cars on Los Angeles freeways or the fl ickering advertise-

ments on American televisions expressed the anomie of fragmented, postmodern societies.

Postmodernism

Subjectivism and

the unconscious in

literature

Nonrepresentational art became as common in sculpture as it was in twentieth-century painting. This work by the infl uential English sculptor Henry Moore, Sculptural Object (1960), shows how the modern representa- tion of classical artistic themes radically altered Western sculp- tural traditions that went back to the Renaissance and even to antiquity. (Scala/Art Resource, NY)

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Chapter 26 Europe and the Changing Modern World1048

Composers introduced street noises (and silences) into their music. Repetition, as in the

commercial world of packaging, marketing, and television advertising, was adopted as

an artistic technique. The American artist Andy Warhol attracted attention in Europe by

painting serial pictures of Coca-Cola bottles and of the fi lm star Marilyn Monroe—notable

icons of popular culture on both sides of the Atlantic. In fi ction the postmoderns mingled

actual events and fantasy. A play by Harold Pinter, winner of the Nobel Prize for literature

in 2005, Samuel Beckett, or Eugène Ionesco challenged traditional theatrical conventions.

Indeed, a Pinter play such as The Homecoming or a Beckett play such as Waiting for Godot could be as baffl ing as the other postmodernist arts; and the dialogues and staging of contemporary plays created a postmodern theatrical culture that disoriented audiences

long accustomed to the classic works of Shakespeare, Molière, Ibsen, or Shaw. The

postmoderns rejected traditional ideas of structure, seeing no need in literature or art for

a beginning, a middle, and an end. Postmodernism was both a phase of the modernist

rebellion against traditionalism and a fragmented sequel to it with new messages. Where

modernism typically sought to convey an artist’s unique personal vision, postmodernists

insisted that writers inevitably expressed the language and values of their culture rather

than a distinctive individual consciousness. Because the writer’s life and personal experi-

ence were now deemed less important for the study of literature, it even became possible

to speak metaphorically of the “death of the author.”

Religion in the Modern World

Religion was in fl ux in modern Europe. With the continuing inroads of secularism, the

challenges of science, and the post-1945 advances of communism in eastern Europe, orga-

nized religion encountered many obstacles. Attendance and membership in Christian

churches declined almost everywhere in Europe, but the churches in eastern Europe

survived Marxist regimes and often retained their vitality as an alternative to the dominant

state institutions. Statistics on religious affi liation are never exact, but some fi gures on the

religions with the largest number of adherents in the opening years of the twenty-fi rst cen-

tury were clear. Islam, with well over 1 billion adherents worldwide, was the fastest-

growing faith in many European countries, but Christianity remained the largest religion

throughout Europe (and in the world as a whole). The historic divisions within Christianity—

Roman Catholic, Protestant, Eastern Orthodox—still followed the broad geographical pat-

terns that had emerged after the sixteenth-century Protestant Reformation. Older confl icts

between Christian groups, however, gradually gave way to more collaboration and coop-

eration, perhaps because the growing secularism in European societies encouraged Chris-

tians to emphasize their shared beliefs more than their theological differences.

The ecumenical movement in Christianity, that is, the organized effort

to unite the many branches of Protestantism, and eventually all Christian-

ity, which began in the nineteenth century, made headway throughout the

half-century after the Second World War. A World Council of Churches

was founded in 1948. In historic breakthroughs toward the end of the cen-

tury Lutheran churches announced a reconciliation and alliance with the Episcopalian

churches, and Lutherans and Calvinists resolved theological differences over Luther’s

defi nition of salvation, “justifi cation by faith.” When in the 1960s the Roman Catholic

Church abandoned its insistence on a privileged position within Christianity, it too encour-

aged ecumenicism. All Christian churches also moved toward a closer dialogue with non-

Christian world faiths as well.

The ecumenical

movement

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1049

As in the late nineteenth century, tensions between modernism (in its

religious sense) and fundamentalism continued. Many of the Protestant

churches in the twentieth century for the most part reconciled their tradi-

tional teachings with science and Biblical scholarship, minimized the supernatural and dog-

matic aspects of their faith, and sought to adapt the teachings of the gospel to the social

needs of the contemporary world. But the two world wars and other social and cultural

upheavals dealt a blow to theological modernism and to the inherent optimism of the social

gospel. In the 1920s, not only did fundamentalism revive but an intellectual reaction also

set in among Protestant theologians who emphasized revealed religion and elements of

faith. The Swiss theologian Karl Barth in his writings from 1919 to the 1960s endeavored

to lead Protestantism back to the root principles of the Reformation. There was much inter-

est in Kierkegaard who, like Luther, had resolved his own deep anguish by a personal

commitment to religious experience. During the Second World War, the German Lutheran

theologian and activist Dietrich Bonhoeffer helped to sustain the small, anti-Nazi religious

resistance, a courageous expression of Christian faith for which he was imprisoned and

executed. After 1945, as a result of the work of Barth, Paul Tillich, and others, a powerful

movement in Protestantism reasserted its dependence on revealed religion and denied that

human reason could ever properly judge divine revelation. Some church writers, unable to

explain the wrenching experience of the Second World War and the Holocaust, spoke of

“post-Auschwitz theology” and of “God’s removal from history.” Evangelical Protestant-

ism, with its literal adherence to the gospel, spellbinding preachers, and revivalist emotional

appeal fl ourished much more widely in the United States than in Europe. Most European

Protestants accepted religious scholarship and the intellectual validity of modern scientifi c

knowledge, but this cultural reconciliation with modern science may have reduced religious

passions or commitments among the members of Europe’s main Protestant churches.

The Roman Catholic Church was passing through one of its great historic phases

beginning in the second half of the century. Although the church no longer actively sup-

pressed all forms of modernism, the Vatican in the early postwar years reaffi rmed dogmatic

training in the seminaries. In 1950 Pius XII (1939–1958), who headed the church during

the Second World War (and was criticized in some quarters for insuffi ciently opposing the

terrible Nazi atrocities against the Jews), proclaimed the Assumption, the literal, or bodily

ascent of the Virgin Mary into heaven, the only new Roman Catholic dogma to be promul-

gated in the entire twentieth century.

Pius XII was succeeded in 1959 by John XXIII. Although elected at the age of 77, and

reigning for only four years until his death in 1963, John proved to be one of the most inno-

vative popes of modern times, working to bring the church and its teachings into greater

harmony with the contemporary world. His powerful encyclicals gave a global emphasis to

the older social teachings of the church and called upon the wealthier nations to share their

resources with the less favored. The fi rst encyclical ever addressed to Catholics and non-

Catholics alike, Pacem in Terris (1963), appealed for peace and human rights. A champion of ecumenicism, he opened dialogues with other faiths. In 1962, against the advice of his

own theologians, he convened the Second Vatican Council, the fi rst such council since

1870, and as it turned out, the most important since the sixteenth-century Council of Trent.

Vatican II, as it came to be called, reshaped contemporary Catholicism.

John did not live to see the Council’s labors completed, but was the prin-

cipal inspiration for its reforms. His successor Paul VI (1963–1978) shared

John’s social concerns and encouraged ecumenicism, but was more conser-

vative in other ways. The Council completed its work in 1965. Accepting the principle of

Vatican II

Religious tensions

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Chapter 26 Europe and the Changing Modern World1050

religious pluralism, it abandoned the older insistence on a Catholic monopoly on religious

truth. It affi rmed the principle of collegiality, which had gone into eclipse in the modern cen-

turies, the view that the pope must share his authority with the prelates of the church, thus

strengthening the authority of the national churches on substantive matters. It revised the lit-

urgy and various church practices. The Mass, henceforth, would be conducted in vernacular

tongues instead of in Latin, which had been the rule for centuries. The Council relaxed

restrictions on dress for priests and nuns. In one historic declaration, the Council explicitly

absolved the Jewish people from the charge of deicide that had fed and infl amed anti-

Semitism over the ages. John XXIII’s goal—the revitalization and updating of church teach-

ings and practices—was amply fulfi lled by the Council. There were limits to the changes, to

be sure. The Council reaffi rmed celibacy for the clergy and refused to sanction the ordination

of women as priests. Paul VI, meanwhile, upheld papal supremacy and took a fi rm conserva-

tive stance on moral issues, especially against all artifi cial means of birth control.

After Paul VI’s death in 1978 (and when a successor, John Paul I, died after only

34 days in offi ce), John Paul II, the archbishop of Cracow, became the

new head of the church, the fi rst Polish pope ever elected, and the fi rst

non-Italian pontiff in over 450 years. Robust, earthy, energetic, versatile

in languages, and with a keen sense of pageantry and papal majesty, he

John Paul II

Pope John Paul II combined a defense of the traditional values and institutions of Roman Catholic Christianity with the frequent use of modern travel and communications. He is shown here during a trip to Poland in 1979. This much-acclaimed papal visit to his native country was an early example of John Paul’s determination to speak out on public issues, promote social justice, and assert the importance of religious life in Communist countries. (Forum/UIG/Getty Images)

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1051

brought an added dynamism to the church. Not only did he encourage the Christian ecu-

menical movement, but he also reached out to non-Christians as well, traveling widely in

Asia, Africa, and Latin America. During the Cold War years he entered into diplomatic

negotiations with the Soviet Union and the Communist countries of eastern Europe to

improve the status of the church and contributed much to the revolutionary transformation

of his own country and eastern Europe in the 1980s.

In his indefatigable global travels John Paul presided over Mass for millions of Roman

Catholics, and he offered apologies for past wrongs going back to the Crusades and includ-

ing the abuses of the Inquisition, whose archives he opened to historians. He apologized

for the Inquisition’s condemnation of scientists like Galileo. In formal statements and

documents he offered specifi c apologies to the Jews for abuses they had suffered over the

centuries and especially for the ordeal of the Holocaust, and in a historic visit to Jerusalem

he prayed at the Western Wall.

Although on global, social, and economic issues John Paul held progressive views and

was sharply critical of unbridled capitalism and irresponsible materialism, in matters of

church doctrine and governance he favored orthodoxy and papal supremacy. He appointed

conservative archbishops, bishops, and cardinals, silenced dissenting theologians, and

curbed the growing assertiveness of national churches. He would not countenance marriage

for the clergy, the ordination of women as priests (an innovation accepted by the Church of

England in 1994), rights of divorce (or of remarriage for the divorced), or homosexuality.

John Paul’s stance on many issues engendered protest against the “new

Roman centralism,” the failure to modernize the church more thoroughly, and

the unwillingness to respect the spirit of shared authority promised by the

Council. His defenders argued that in upholding tradition he was restoring a

balance upset by overly rapid changes in the church introduced by Vatican II.

Although weakened by declining health in his later years, John Paul remained active in setting

church policies and in defending his theological principles until the last days of his life in

2005. The church cardinals quickly chose a 78-year-old German theologian who had been a

close aide of John Paul to serve as the next pope. Entering offi ce as a well-known spokesman

for his predecessor’s policies, the new pope, Benedict XVI, undertook to defend the ideas and

administrative system that the Vatican had promoted during the long and momentous pontifi -

cate of John Paul II. Benedict also reaffi rmed the church’s continuing opposition to the ordina-

tion of women priests and strongly opposed the developing European campaigns for same-sex

marriages. He thus sought generally to uphold Catholic traditions rather than to push the

church toward major theological or institutional reforms, but he also broke with tradition when

he became the fi rst pope to resign from the papacy since the early fi fteenth century. He was

succeeded, in 2013, by Pope Francis, who had been a cardinal in Argentina.

Judaism was haunted in the years after 1945 by the traumatic experience

of the Holocaust. At the beginning of the twenty-fi rst century there were about

14 million Jews in the world, including 5.8 million in the United States, 4.6

million in Israel, and 2.4 million in Europe. The earlier trend to secularism persisted, but more

striking was the vitality of all its branches, Orthodox, Conservative, and Reform. Jews every-

where, including many who were not Zionists, lent moral and fi nancial support to the state

of Israel, although many were troubled by Israeli militancy and intransigence and by the role

in Israeli domestic politics of ultraorthodox religious groups that refused to accept a secular

state. Anti-Zionism, not only in the Arab world but elsewhere as well, at times served as a thin

screen for anti-Semitism. In the former Soviet Union and in some parts of eastern Europe, Jews

had met harassment and persecution and, when permitted, emigrated in large numbers. The

collapse of communism also reignited some older currents of anti-Semitism in eastern Europe.

Objections to

Vatican centralism

Judaism

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Chapter 26 Europe and the Changing Modern World1052

Other world religions, including I slam, Hinduism, and Buddhism, attracted new

adherents in Europe and also made efforts to adjust millennia-old doctrines to the secular

tendencies of the contemporary age. R eligious criticisms of modern secular societies, how-

ever, attracted signifi cant support within Europe’s growing immigrant communities—

especially among certain Muslim groups in the multicultural European

cities. Although Muslims became active in many commercial and social

spheres of modern European life, the rise of militant reform movements

(often called “fundamentalist” by outsiders) in the Islamic societies of

North Africa and the Middle East also infl uenced some Muslims in Europe. All such move-

ments condemned modern secularism and turned to what they took to be a literal reading

of the Qur’an for their own guidance and for the imposition of rules of

conduct on other Muslims. A few of the most radical Muslims organized

terrorist attacks within Europe, thereby trying (in their view) to express

solidarity with international terrorist organizations such as al-Qaeda.

Muslim terrorists set off deadly bombs on four Spanish trains in 2004, kill-

ing almost 200 commuters in Madrid. The following year, in July 2005, other terrorists

exploded bombs in the London subway and bus system, killing more than 50 people.

Such extremism evoked reactions against Muslims within various countries, though the

great majority of Muslims practiced their faith peacefully and constructively in the mosques

and Islamic community centers that were expanding across Europe. Some far-right groups

agitated against immigration from Muslim societies, and even mainstream political parties

sometimes pushed for new actions to regulate Muslim religious practices. These regula-

tory interventions in certain aspects of Muslim culture usually developed as the legislative

expression of broader assumptions about the “otherness” of Muslim communities rather

than as a reaction to specifi c events, so the debates about new laws also sparked wider

debates about religious and cultural diversity in European societies. In France, for example,

legislators asserted their support for French “secularism,” in 2004, by enacting a ban on

the wearing of Islamic head scarves by Muslim girls in the French public

schools; and in 2011 it became illegal for women in France to wear a face-

covering veil or burqa in public places. Meanwhile, voters in Switzerland,

also in 2011, approved a ban on the construction of new minarets at the

mosques in Swiss cities. Critics of this ban and of the ban on head scarves

in French schools charged that such laws violated religious freedoms, but supporters of the

new laws generally believed that regulations were needed because Muslim “fundamental-

ism” was hostile to European cultural traditions or conceptions of human rights.

Fundamentalism could also be found in evangelical Christian sects and in extremist

Orthodox Jewish quarters as well as among the radical Muslim groups. Although they

rarely became violent, fundamentalist movements easily bred intolerance and separat-

ism, and they ran counter to the secularism and blending of cultures in modern European

nations. The separation of political and religious authority had become so widely accepted

throughout contemporary Europe that it often became diffi cult for secular persons and

moderate religious believers to understand the strength and appeal of the new religious

ferment in other societies around the world.

Activism: The Youth Culture and Rebellion of the 1960s

In the second half of the twentieth century young people acquired a collective cultural and

generational identity that young people seemed not to have possessed in earlier historical

Islam

Radical Muslim

groups

New laws affecting

Muslims

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1053

periods. It was now possible to speak of a youth market, a youth culture, youth move-

ments. In part the phenomenon was demographic in origin, the result of the extraordinary

number of births in the decade and a half after the Second World War—the “baby boom.”

A large cohort grew up in a rapidly changing world, and they developed a generational

identity through a new popular culture that appeared in music, fashion, fi lms, and advertis-

ing. Youth culture became a key component of modern European and global culture.

In the 1960s a youth political activism made a startling appearance,

marked by a widespread student rebellion. A generation came to university

age and attended institutions of higher learning in larger numbers than ever

before. It was a generation that grew up in an era of global change and sci-

entifi c breakthroughs, to which their elders were not dependable guides. They took for

granted the scientifi c, technological, and other accomplishments of their world and con-

centrated on its defi ciencies—the fl agrant contradictions of wealth and poverty within and

Youth activism

The growing Muslim population in European countries became more visible and well estab- lished in the early twenty-fi rst century. Muslims entered widely into the workforce, devel- oped new social institutions, and built new mosques. This large mosque opened in the western German city of Duisburg in 2008 and immediately provided a gathering place for the region’s Muslim community as well as a prominent symbol of the expanding Muslim presence in mod- ern German society. (Juergen Schwartz/Getty Images)

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Chapter 26 Europe and the Changing Modern World1054

among nations, racial injustice, discrimination, colonialism, the impersonal quality of

mechanized society and bureaucratized institutions (including colleges and universities),

the violence that destroyed human beings in continuing wars, and always the threat of

nuclear destruction. The rebelliousness extended beyond the traditional generation gap; it

was directed at all established society and reiterated romantic or utopian themes that had

infl uenced social criticism since the beginnings of modern history.

The revolt burst forth in the late 1960s in widely separate parts of the world, extend-

ing from North America and Asia to the main cities and universities in western Europe. At

the peak of the movement, in 1967–1968, students demonstrated and rioted

on campuses and battled police all over the world; American, Canadian,

Mexican, West German, French, Italian, and Spanish universities were

heavily involved.

France was one center of the storm. Demonstrations there reached near-revolutionary

dimensions in the spring of 1968 and, as we have seen, the protests threatened to over-

throw the de Gaulle government when 10 million workers also went out on strike, partly in

sympathy with students and partly for their own grievances. But the government eventu-

ally restored order, and many of the initial grievances in the overcrowded, impersonal uni-

versities were almost forgotten in the wider, but quickly passing, French upheaval. Other

large demonstrations and student strikes disrupted universities in West Germany, Italy,

and Great Britain, often pitting the younger generation of the “New Left” against the more

culturally conservative leaders of well-established leftist political parties. The American

war in Vietnam was one of the issues that mobilized student protestors, but the demonstra-

tions also focused on specifi c local concerns—ranging from inadequate urban housing or

social services to the traditional curriculum in European universities.

The rebelling students often defi ned their collective identities through rock music,

unconventional styles of dress, and a language of their own. Some activists also made icons

out of controversial revolutionary leaders who symbolized opposition to the established

1968

A global youth culture emerged in the 1960s and 1970s, creating distinctive styles of dress and an international market for new forms of popular music. Rock musicians such as this English band, The Rolling Stones, toured the world and wrote songs that helped to shape a genera- tional identity spanning nations and cultures. The band’s lead singer Mick Jagger is seen here with guitarist Keith Richards at a concert in Los Angeles in 1973. (Neal Preston/Corbis)

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1055

Western political order: Fidel Castro and his martyred Lieutenant Che Guevara, Ho Chi

Minh, Mao Zedong, militant American black leaders like Malcolm X, the heralds of the

colonial revolution such as Frantz Fanon (the West Indian author of The Wretched of the Earth ), and others. They read the neo-Marxist German philosopher Herbert Marcuse, who warned that the very tolerance of bourgeois society was a trap to prevent true protest against

injustice; they learned from him that the industrial working class, co-opted

by the existing system, was no longer a revolutionary force. The “New

Left” also dismissed older revolutionaries in the Soviet Union as stodgy

bureaucrats and affi rmed that future revolutionary leadership should come

from Maoist China or other places in Asia, Africa, and Latin America. They

attacked materialism, affl uence, and conformity, and the power structure of contemporary

society. Many believed in militant confrontations that recalled an older anarchism and

nihilism. They called on each other to transform or destroy various social, political, and

cultural traditions, assuming that their generation could overcome the social hierarchies

and injustices in modern democratic societies.

The rebellion in its mass phase faded by the early 1970s. Only a small number

of extremists carried on a kind of urban guerrilla war through underground terrorist

organizations—the Bader–Meinhof gang in Germany, the Red Brigades in Italy. Mostly,

the rebels of 1968 moved on to places in established society. While many people shud-

dered at the attack on traditional institutions and orderly processes, others were shaken out

of their complacency about social or racial inequities. Efforts were made to reform univer-

sity administration and to provide more adequate teaching facilities. The youth movement,

even after its political radicalism subsided, had a continuing effect on all European age

groups in loosening older standards of language, dress, and sexual mores.

The Women’s Liberation Movement

The feminist, or women’s liberation, movement was another, but more enduring, mani-

festation of twentieth-century and contemporary social ferment. From the time of the

French Revolution, as noted earlier, a few advanced thinkers in France and England had

raised the question of equal rights for women, and a women’s political movement had also

developed in the United States by the mid-nineteenth century. Elizabeth Cady Stanton

and a small group of associates in 1848, inspired in part by revolutionary developments

in Europe that year, had proclaimed a declaration of independence for women, demand-

ing the right to vote, equal compensation for work, legal equality in property and other

matters, and expanded educational opportunities. In Britain, later in the century, the suf-

fragettes raised similar demands in their militant campaign for the vote. Women won the

right to vote before the First World War in a few of the smaller European countries such

as Finland and Norway; after 1918, in many more nations, including Britain, Germany,

and the United States; and eventually after 1945, in all other European countries. But other

objectives went unrealized.

The militant twentieth-century phase of the women’s movement began in the United

States in the mid-1960s, partly as a parallel to the civil rights movement of the African-

American population, but it also spread across much of Europe over the following decades.

The women’s liberation movement, inspired by such books as Simone de Beauvoir’s The Second Sex, published in France in 1949, and Betty Friedan’s The Feminine Mystique, which appeared in the United States in 1963, contended that women, half or more of the

human race, had always been and continued to be oppressed by a male-dominated society

Emergence of the New

Left

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Chapter 26 Europe and the Changing Modern World1056

and that women were systematically denied access to positions of authority, leadership,

property, and power. Although the more blatant forms of legal discrimination, in such

matters as voting and property rights for example, had been or were being removed,

twentieth-century feminists demanded an end to all barriers to equal partici-

pation in the economy and society. Betty Friedan’s infl uential book, which

was translated into multiple European languages, described the frustrations

of women who were blocked from professional careers; and it strongly

encouraged women to move beyond traditional lives devoted mainly to

work within the home and family and to utilize their education, skills, and abilities in the

outside world as well. Large numbers of women entered the job market during and after the

1970s, making their way into new workplaces or professional positions and provoking

adjustments in family responsibilities, which were not always easily arranged or accepted.

Some women, more so than in the past (when only a few reigning women sovereigns

were able to exercise political power), came to hold positions of the highest authority in their

countries in the years after 1945. Among them were prominent women leaders in former

European colonies such as Indira Gandhi in India and Benazir Bhutto in Pakistan. Women

also rose to the highest government positions in numerous European countries. Margaret

Thatcher in Britain and Angela Merkel in Germany became especially infl uential, but there

was also a growing list of women presidents, prime ministers, and cabinet ministers in

France, Italy, Spain, Portugal, Norway, Iceland, Ireland, Poland, Finland, and almost every

other nation in Europe. Women were thus entering widely into modern political life, but it

was also true, as feminists and others continued to stress, that men still dominated legislative

assemblies and governments in general in most European countries in the early twenty-fi rst

century.

Meanwhile the development of advanced contraceptive technology, especially of the

birth control pill in the early 1960s, and the legalization and greater access to safer

Inspirations and

demands

The French writer Simone de Beauvoir, shown here in 1947, wrote about the social position of women in her widely read book The Second Sex (1949). Beauvoir analyzed the con- straints and myths that affected women in what she described as patriarchal societies and called for the independence or liberation of women in contem- porary social and political life. Her work became an infl uen- tial statement of themes and ideas that helped shape a new international women’s move- ment in the 1960s and 1970s. (Hulton-Deutsch Collection/Corbis)

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1057

abortion procedures in most of E urope, provided a new biological freedom and autonomy

for women. Changing social mores tolerated more sexual freedom and fostered more

equality between women and men within marriages and other relationships. The cam-

paigns for women’s rights also led in many places to new calls for recognition of same-sex

relationships. Both women and men began to live more openly in same-sex

partnerships, and several European countries—including the Netherlands,

Spain, Portugal, Belgium, France, England, and Denmark—gave full legal

status to same-sex marriages in the fi rst decades of the twenty-fi rst century.

Other countries recognized “civil unions” and new legal or economic rights for same-sex

partners, thereby providing new security and social stability for women and men who did

not live within traditional marriages. Although the advocates and opponents of same-sex

marriages continued their debates in European courts, legislatures, and newspapers, there

was clearly movement toward more legal rights for gay women and men in European

political and cultural life.

In the fi rst decade of the twenty-fi rst century women were fi lling a larger share of

places in higher education and in professional schools than ever before. As more women

New marriage laws

Ideas about marriage and family life changed rapidly in contemporary Europe, leading almost everywhere to more autonomy for women, more acceptance of same sex partnerships, and (in some countries) new marriage laws. These Spaniards celebrated in 2005 as the Spanish Parliament passed legislation giving same sex couples the equal legal right to marry and adopt children. (Pedro Armestre/AFP/Getty Images)

121. Intellectual and Social Transitions in Modern Cultures

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Chapter 26 Europe and the Changing Modern World1058

became part of the labor force at all levels, a new wave of feminist activism demanded

not only equal compensation for equal work, still far from realized, but also better pay for

jobs that were poorly compensated because they had been traditionally fi lled by women.

Although there were disagreements within and outside the women’s liberation movement

on the methods and tempo of change, wide agreement existed on the need to utilize fully

all human resources in the economy and in all the institutions of public and private life. If

that could be accomplished, the changing social position of women would count among

the most signifi cant changes in contemporary European history.

122. EUROPE AND INTERNATIONAL CONFLICTS IN THE EARLY TWENTY-FIRST CENTURY

The end of the Cold War and the demise of the U.S.S.R. in 1991 transformed the founda-

tions on which international relations had rested since 1945. The end of the American and

European campaign to contain communism raised new questions about how the United

States would use its post–Cold War power with consideration for its allies and other

nations. International stability in Europe and other regions of the world would depend in

part on how the United States conceived of its responsibilities in world affairs and how it

shaped its relationships with its European allies, Russia, China, and other rising national

powers. A new confi guration of world affairs began to emerge, but peace and security

remained the world’s most pressing problems in this era of global economic exchanges.

Two new challenges appeared: the eruption of confl icts more frequently within nations

than between nations and the danger of terrorism, which spread into almost every region

of the world.

The twentieth century, heralded in its opening years for its promise of peace and prog-

ress, had seen more than 200 million people perish as victims of wars and brutal regimes.

It became clear that the end of the Cold War had not brought peace to the world, but the

older patterns of warfare between nation-states seemed to be breaking down by the early

twenty-fi rst century. The new wars tended to be confl icts between religious or ethnic

groups within a national territory or between guerrilla forces and high-tech national armies

that sought to suppress them. These new wars could last for years, in part because they

were no longer waged by opposing national governments that were able to negotiate a

truce or a peace settlement. European governments, like all others, struggled to redefi ne

their new role in such international confl icts.

Some close analysts of international affairs maintained that the new world order might

best be understood in the context of rivalries and confl icts between religion-based civiliza-

tions, not between nation-states. There was already some evidence of this. The Russian

offensive against Chechnya had anti-Islamic overtones, as did the Serb and Croat attacks

on Muslims in Bosnia and the Serb war against the Albanian Muslims in

Kosovo. In turn, Orthodox Christian Church leaders in Russia and Greece

condemned the Western air offensive against Serbia. The confl icts between

Israel and its Arab neighbors in the Middle East had distinctive religious

overtones. The wars launched by the United States and its European allies

against the Muslim countries of Afghanistan and Iraq in the early twenty-fi rst century also

took on religious meaning because some saw these confl icts as a battle between different

religious and cultural traditions and values.

But nonreligious factors remained preponderant in international affairs, and even in

religion-based civilizations there was marked diversity. The world’s religions were far

Religious divisions

could shape confl icts

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1059122. Europe and International Confl icts in the Early Twenty-First Century

from homogeneous, and all had been touched to some degree by secularism and globaliza-

tion. There were enduring confl icts between branches of the major religions—Catholics

and Protestants in Northern Ireland, for example, and Shiites and Sunnis in many Muslim

countries of the Middle East. The two great wars of the twentieth century had originated in

confl icts between nations in Christian Europe itself.

It was nevertheless important to call attention to the global diversity of

traditions, cultures, and religions if only to shed any illusions among people

in Europe and North America that they were destined to spread their ideas

and values across the world unchallenged. Western civilization, with its

Judeo-Christian heritage, had always been enriched by interaction with other civilizations.

By the twenty-fi rst century its global infl uence was undeniable, but people in the Western

countries also had to recognize the existence of deep-seated cultural allegiances in every

part of the world and to understand the enduring importance of cultural differences in dip-

lomatic affairs, economic exchanges, and political confl icts.

The United Nations

The much-used term “international community” was indispensable but defi ed precise defi -

nition. The closest approximation to it was the United Nations (UN). Here the Security

Council was the dominant institution. The original roster of fi ve permanent members of

the Council, the victors in the Second World War, had been modifi ed only in 1971 when

the People’s Republic of China replaced Nationalist China and in 1991 when Russia suc-

ceeded to the seat of the dissolved U.S.S.R. The political and economic changes in the

world spurred proposals for giving other large powers permanent seats, so that they might

exercise international responsibilities commensurate with their economic

and military resources. Even the veto power of the fi ve permanent powers

came into question.

The UN counted over 190 member nations by the fi rst decade of the

twenty-fi rst century, and even the smallest new nations were permitted to

join. The 80 smallest members of the UN, it turned out, represented less than 10 percent

of the world’s population.

Debate went on in the UN, the EU, and elsewhere over the interpreta-

tion of human rights. The Universal Declaration of Human Rights, adopted

by the UN in 1948, had focused on political and civil rights, emphasizing

protection from arbitrary arrest, imprisonment, and torture. Pressure later

mounted to broaden the largely political defi nition to include economic rights, the neces-

sity of meeting human needs within each country, and the right to international develop-

ment assistance for those purposes.

An even more complex issue troubled the United States, the UN, and the EU—which

had become a strong advocate for the modern legal defense of human rights. People in

other nations and cultures around the world at times contended that the political and civil

rights generally described as universal were really a specifi c aspect of Western political

or cultural traditions and should thus be modifi ed to fi t the culture, history, and religions

of other societies. Equality for women or the rights of children, in this interpretation,

could have different meanings in countries whose cultural traditions differed from those

of Europe. But many across the globe maintained that human rights, no matter how dif-

fi cult to defi ne, of European origin or not, represented a common core of values that should

protect every individual human being against enslavement, violation, or discrimination.

Recognizing global

diversity

UN membership

expands

Defi ning human

rights

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Chapter 26 Europe and the Changing Modern World1060

CHRONOLOGY OF NOTABLE EVENTS, 1949–2011

1949 Simone de Beauvoir’s publication of The Second Sex helps to launch a new interna- tional campaign for women’s rights

1968 Youth movements in many nations press for political and social change

1969 American astronauts land on the surface of the moon

1978 John Paul II becomes Pope—the fi rst Pole ever elected to the papacy

1991 Treaty of Maastricht establishes the new European Union (EU)

1994 World Trade Organization (WTO) is established to mediate international trade

1997 Labour Party wins elections in Great Britain; Tony Blair becomes prime minister

1998 Political agreement in Northern Ireland offers plan to end violence between Protes-

tants and Catholics

1998 Social Democrats win elections in Germany; Gerhard Schröder becomes chancellor

2001 Al-Qaeda terrorist attacks on New York and Washington; United States and its

allies overthrow Taliban regime in Kabul; NATO forces are authorized to enter

Afghanistan

2002 The euro becomes the common currency of 12 European nations

2003 American and British forces invade Iraq and overthrow the regime of Saddam

Hussein, but begin prolonged war against “insurgents”

2004 EU membership grows to 25 nations

2005 Angela Merkel of the Christian Democratic Party becomes the fi rst woman chancellor

of Germany

2007 Gaullist Conservatives win elections in France; Nicholas Sarkozy becomes president

2010 Conservative Party wins plurality in Great Britain; David Cameron becomes prime

minister

2011 British and American troops withdraw from Iraq

Respect for cultural pluralism or local traditions should not cover or excuse any form of

human indignity. European values, in short, were now seen as part of a universal cam-

paign, even in societies far outside Europe.

Although the UN was often criticized for its inability to prevent wars or act decisively

on global social problems, its broad goals remained as formulated in 1945: to control and

reduce the scourge of war, advance human rights, promote equality, protect the indepen-

dence of nations, encourage social progress, raise living standards, and work for peace and

security. But the world’s nations, large and small, were not ready to subordinate their

national interests or sovereignty to any international organization. Without armed power

of its own, the United Nations could not prevent powerful sovereign nations from going to

war or stop such wars or civil wars after they began.

The United States, as the sole superpower after 1991, exercised

the leading role in international affairs, though often in concert with its

European allies and other major powers. At times, however, it took initia-

tives that made it diffi cult to distinguish between American unilateralism

U.S. leadership in

international affairs

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1061

and international action. The Security Council in 1990 condemned Iraq’s invasion and

occupation of Kuwait, but it was the United States that assembled a formidable multi-

national military force that could take decisive action. This well-equipped international

army, which included over a half-million American troops along with deployments of

more than 70,000 troops from Britain and France (and smaller contingents from numer-

ous other countries), launched a massive assault in early 1991 that forced the Iraqi with-

drawal from Kuwait.

Although it was never easy to mobilize broad international coalitions, Europeans

joined with the United States in a number of global military interventions. As we have

noted earlier, the massive American-led air offensive by NATO against the

former Yugoslavia in 1999 set a precedent for multinational “humanitar-

ian intervention” within a sovereign state, although no ground troops were

used. The UN did not join the war, but played a major role in postwar

peacekeeping in Kosovo. International war crimes trials were held in The

Hague for political and military leaders charged with war crimes and

crimes against humanity in Rwanda and in the former Yugoslavia. An international mili-

tary force that included participants from several European countries also intervened to

protect the people of East Timor after they voted in a UN-sponsored referendum for

independence from Indonesia and then faced virtual butchery by Indonesian paramilitary

forces. It nevertheless remained a formidable challenge for Europeans and other mem-

bers of the UN to decide on the legitimate use of international force against sovereign

nations to protect threatened or abused populations.

Multinational

humanitarian

intervention

WHEEL MAN By Ernest Trova (American, 1927–2009)

Trova created a dehumanized, life-size bronze fi gure of no par- ticular sex, age, race, culture, or environment. Compressed between the two wheels, it seems to present humanity as the victim of its own compli- cated inventions. The wheels may also symbolize the rolling vicissitudes of human fortune in every part of the world and era of history. The date 1965 is inscribed on the base, and the whole faceless assemblage sug- gests that the wheels of human progress and civilization have not exactly carried human beings to the happy condition that an earlier, more optimis- tic age had expected in both Europe and the Americas. (Solomon R. Guggenheim

Museum, NY)

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Chapter 26 Europe and the Changing Modern World1062

NATO, Russia, and the New International Cooperation

The new American president, elected in late 2000, George W. Bush, son of the former

President Bush, reassessed the concept of humanitarian intervention, but soon initiated

other military actions when he decided that American interests were at risk. Meanwhile

the Europeans took steps to strengthen the independent military and defense role for

the EU. The French, following the precedent of de Gaulle in the Cold War years, called

for recognition of a “multipolar world,” in which the EU would be a more equal part-

ner, and they objected, if only in rhetoric, to the hegemony of the “American

hyperpower.”

The role of R ussia in the new world order was critical but not yet pre-

cisely defi ned. That it was still a major power and not ready to abandon

aspirations to an important role in world affairs was evident in its pro-Serb

stance in the Balkans. How to deal with an assertive Russia still armed with

thousands of nuclear weapons was a major challenge. NATO, meanwhile, at American ini-

tiative, admitted Hungary, Poland, and the Czech Republic as full members in 1999; and

seven other countries of formerly Soviet-controlled central and eastern Europe joined in

2004. The Central and East European nations not only wished to be full partners in Europe

but also saw their membership in NATO as the best guarantee of their future security.

The admission of several states on the very borders of Russia, however, was regarded by

many Russians as a provocation. On the other hand, Russia’s president became a member

of what was now the Group of 8, the heads of government of the major industrial democ-

racies; and there were regular consultations with NATO through a council established in

2002 to facilitate cooperation on various international issues.

Nuclear disarmament loomed as another key issue in the post–Cold War interna-

tional order. The collapse of the U.S.S.R. promised to end the “balance of terror” that had

resulted from the nuclear buildup of the two superpowers. Despite some initial obstacles,

the United States and Russia agreed on the voluntary reduction of nuclear arms. The num-

ber of nuclear warheads in the world, of which the largest number were held by the United

States and the U.S.S.R., was reduced in the 15 years between the mid-1980s and 2000.

Nonetheless the head of the UN’s nuclear monitoring agency reported at the close of 2005

that there were still 27,000 nuclear warheads in various parts of the world, which, he said,

could mean “the destruction of entire nations in a matter of minutes.”

The threat of nuclear proliferation persisted, keeping the issue high on the interna-

tional agenda. By the end of the twentieth century 187 nations had signed the 1968 Non-

Proliferation Treaty. At one of the periodic meetings held to review the status of the treaty,

in May 2000, the fi ve major nuclear powers—the United States, Russia, Britain, France,

and China—in the fi rst such declaration ever made pledged themselves “unequivocally”

to the eventual elimination of all nuclear weapons. There was satisfaction and reassur-

ance also that since August 1945 no nuclear bomb had been exploded in warfare. That

additional nations such as North Korea and Iran might be developing nuclear arms nev-

ertheless gave cause for continuing concern. A major setback to the progress of nuclear

arms control was the refusal of the United States Senate in late 1999 to ratify the Com-

prehensive Nuclear Test Ban Treaty because the United States insisted that the nation’s

security and the security of other states required periodic testing of the American nuclear

arsenal. Almost all other countries ratifi ed this treaty, which would have prohibited all

nuclear weapons testing. Negotiations for nuclear arms reductions continued in the early

twenty-fi rst century, however, and a later American president, Barack Obama, eventually

Russia’s role

undefi ned

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1063

signed a new START treaty with Russian president Medvedev. The new treaty, which

was narrowly approved by the United States Senate in 2010, carried provisions for verifi -

able and signifi cantly reduced new limits on the numbers of Russian and American mis-

siles and nuclear warheads, thus marking another milestone in the long transition away

from the earlier Cold War nuclear arms race. President Obama, who was reelected to a

second term in 2012, made the reduction and elimination of nuclear weapons a key for-

eign policy objective of his administration. Speaking in Prague during a European tour in

2009, Obama had declared his aspiration to reduce and even eliminate nuclear weapons in

all parts of the world. “We must stand together,” Obama emphasized to his large audience

in a Czech public square, “to live free from fear in the twenty-fi rst century”—a distant,

perhaps elusive, goal that, he said, could ultimately be achieved through “the peace and

security of a world without nuclear weapons.”

Terrorism and Wars in Afghanistan and Iraq after September 11, 2001

We have seen how the United States and the western European countries became steadily

more involved in the Middle East during the latter part of the twentieth century—in the

Persian Gulf War that drove Iraq out of Kuwait in 1991 and in other episodes; but involve-

ments of Americans and Europeans entered a new phase of extended mili-

tary confl ict in the new century, when on September 11, 2001, radical

Islamic terrorists carried out a surprise attack against the United States.

Dispatched to America by the extremist Islamic organization known as

al-Qaeda, committed terrorists from the Middle East set out on a carefully prepared suicide

mission. Fifteen of the 19 terrorists were from Saudi Arabia. They had spent considerable

time in the United States, where several had even undergone fl ight training. The terrorists

hijacked four large American commercial airliners, each loaded with passengers, and

September 11, 2001

The United States remained deeply involved in European affairs after the Cold War. European- American trade, travel, and cultural exchanges were infl uential on both sides of the Atlantic, and the NATO military alliance continued to shape national defense policies. This picture shows President Barack Obama during one of the many post-1945 American presiden- tial visits to Europe. Obama was speaking in 2009 to a large crowd in Prague, where he called for the interna- tional reduction of nuclear arms and also proposed a long-term, future campaign for the global elimination of such weapons of mass destruction. (Joe Klamar/AFP/Getty Images)

122. Europe and International Confl icts in the Early Twenty-First Century

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Chapter 26 Europe and the Changing Modern World1064

crashed two of the planes into the towers of the World Trade Center in New York; the third

plane crashed into the Pentagon in northern Virginia; the fourth crashed to the ground in

rural Pennsylvania without reaching its intended target.

There had never been a terrorist attack of this kind or on this scale in the whole deadly

history of terrorism throughout the world. Almost 3,000 people died in the attacks, which

stunned Europeans almost as deeply as the Americans. An article in the

French newspaper Le Monde, for example, proclaimed on September 12, “Today we are all Americans,” expressing a solidarity that most Europeans

reaffi rmed in the following months. Many saw the terrorist attack in

September 2001 as a turning point in modern American history, in part

because it destroyed the assumption that wide oceans protected the United States from the

kinds of direct assaults that had long threatened the nations and peoples of Europe.

President George W. Bush received authorization from the American Congress to use

all necessary resources to mount a counterattack against the terrorist al-Qaeda organization

and its supporters. The al-Qaeda leader, Osama bin Laden, had lived for many years outside

his native Saudi Arabia. He found welcome support from the radical Islamic Taliban regime

in Afghanistan, yet he controlled no government or armies or industrial infrastructure that

might be attacked in conventional military operations. The al-Qaeda organization had

emerged in the aftermath of the 1991 American-European Gulf War against Iraq, when bin

Laden had vehemently condemned the permanent stationing of American forces near

Islamic holy sites in Saudi Arabia and when he had also begun to organize terrorist

operations.

European support for

United States

Terrorists linked to the extremist Islamic organiza- tion al-Qaeda crashed hijacked commercial airplanes into the World Trade Center in New York City and the Pentagon in northern Virginia on Sep- tember 11, 2001. This picture shows the World Trade Tow- ers just after the crash of a sec- ond aircraft. The United States responded to these devastating attacks by launching a global “war on terror” that would also bring European nations into long, American-led mili- tary campaigns in Afghanistan and Iraq. (Sean Adair/Reuters/Corbis)

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1065

The United States immediately received strong support from its

European allies in NATO, whose members had always pledged to defend

other member nations if they were attacked from abroad. American forces

therefore launched an air assault on Afghanistan with NATO assistance,

and by working also with Afghan forces opposed to the Taliban, the United States quickly

brought about the overthrow of the Taliban regime in Kabul. A large number of al-Qaeda

militants were captured or killed, but bin Laden escaped and remained at large until he was

eventually killed, in 2011, by American special forces in Pakistan. A new Afghan govern-

ment was established in Kabul, and a large NATO force moved into Afghanistan to conduct

peacekeeping operations, support the development of Afghan police forces, and fi ght Tali-

ban guerillas, who soon launched an insurgent campaign against the foreign troops as well

as the new government.

The Afghan war would continue for more than a decade, and even then it was diffi cult

to see a clear resolution emerging. The NATO deployment in Afghanistan, which was

offi cially called the International Security A ssistance Force (ISAF), was authorized by the

UN in late 2001 and composed of troops from almost every NATO country. The largest

contingent came from the United States, but over the following years there were always

signifi cant forces from Britain, Germany, France, Italy, Poland, Spain, and other European

nations as well as Canada and Australia. All participating forces suffered signifi cant casu-

alties, and there were thousands of Afghan deaths during every phase of the war. Although

much of the public in both Europe and the United States gradually turned against the war,

the NATO forces constantly introduced new strategies to stabilize the political and mili-

tary situation.

Many in Europe complained that NATO, which had been created to

defend against Soviet threats in post-1945 Europe, was now being used

inappropriately to maintain a far-distant peacekeeping force and to wage a

counterinsurgency war against Muslim fi ghters in Afghanistan. Even after

a decade, however, there were still thousands of European troops stationed in Afghani-

stan and working closely with the Americans—whose 70,000 soldiers formed roughly

70 percent of the total ISAF/NATO deployment. The NATO countries and the United

States all announced plans to withdraw from the Afghan campaign by the end of 2014,

but nobody could predict the fi nal outcome of the longest confl ict in the history of NATO.

It was nevertheless clear that the European-American alliance had entered a new and

very different military phase after the long Cold War.

Meanwhile, the NATO alliance faced other challenges as the American and British

governments launched a campaign to remove “weapons of mass destruction” from Iraq

and to overthrow the regime of the brutal Iraqi dictator Saddam Hussein. President Bush

and British prime minister Tony Blair successfully pushed for UN resolutions demanding

that teams of UN-appointed inspectors be allowed to enter Iraq to search for weapons.

When the inspectors could not fi nd chemical stockpiles or other weapons of mass destruc-

tion, the American and British governments insisted that the Iraqis were concealing evi-

dence and that the UN should sanction military action to enforce compliance

with UN resolutions. Britain was the only permanent member of the Secu-

rity Council to support the United States. France, Germany, and Russia all

refused to support the resolution that would have authorized an invasion of

Iraq, but President Bush and Prime Minister Blair resolved to go to war

without a UN resolution and (in contrast to Afghanistan) without the endorsement of the

NATO alliance. The governments and populations in France and Germany, where support

European troop

deployments

U.S.-British view

of Iraq

NATO role in

Afghanistan

122. Europe and International Confl icts in the Early Twenty-First Century

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Chapter 26 Europe and the Changing Modern World1066

and sympathy for the United States had been strong and widespread after the terrorist

attacks in 2001, became outspoken in their opposition to the American-British campaign

in Iraq—which they saw as unconnected to the war on terrorism and as a destabilizing

intervention in a sovereign nation that had not attacked members of NATO. Some

European countries, notably Spain and Italy, contributed small contingents to the “allied”

forces, but strong public opposition led them to withdraw their troops well before the main

American and British armies had completed their military campaigns.

The American-British invasion began in March 2003 and rapidly destroyed Saddam

Hussein’s regime in Baghdad. Hussein himself was captured by American troops and exe-

cuted by a later Iraqi government. It appeared that the military intervention had achieved

a complete success, but no weapons of mass destruction were ever discovered, thus call-

ing into question the main rationale for the invasion. Meanwhile, a violent

insurgency erupted as Iraq’s multiple religious and ethnic groups sought

to protect their diverse, often confl icting interests by opposing the military

occupation of their country. American and British forces found themselves

mired in a protracted war as they struggled to establish a new government,

restore the production of oil and electricity, and also contain the escalating confl ict between

Sunni and Shiite groups that struggled for ascendancy within the fragmented Iraqi society.

Tens of thousands of Iraqis died in the violence, and casualties steadily mounted in the

American and British armies.

As the number of deaths rose on all sides, support for the war declined in the United

States, in Britain, and in most of Europe, where public opinion had never really favored the

American-British invasion. The war provoked even more international criticism when it

was revealed that American soldiers had humiliated and tortured Iraqi prisoners. Such

revelations further undermined support for the war, especially in Britain—where, as we

have seen, approval of Tony Blair plummeted in public opinion polls. Indeed, Blair him-

self resigned from offi ce in 2007, having sacrifi ced much of his former popularity to his

close alliance with President Bush and to the Iraqi war. President Bush continued the quest

for a stable solution to the political problems in Iraq, but the American army gradually

withdrew its main forces to military bases that were built up around the country.

The extreme internecine violence, suicide bombings, and roadside attacks on

American-British forces slowly subsided. A somewhat more stable Iraqi government con-

solidated its political control after parliamentary elections enabled Prime

Minister Nouri al-Maliki to organize a new administration. Sunni groups

and the autonomous northern Kurds remained alienated from al-Mailiki’s

Shiite-led government, however, and sectarian confl icts continued to divide

the population. Meanwhile, new leaders took control of American and

British policies after elections brought Barack Obama and David Cameron to power in

2009 and 2010. Both the Americans and the British set timetables for the withdrawal of

their military forces, and by the end of 2011 they had moved their armies out of Iraq.

The Iraq War by no means ended the involvement of the United States and European

countries in the Middle East, but there was a growing reluctance to commit ground forces

in later confl icts. When rebels rose up against Libyan dictator Muammar al-Qaddafi in

2011, for example, countries such as Britain and France joined the United States in an air

campaign against Qaddafi ’s forces; but the NATO countries would not

send ground troops to support the insurrection that ultimately overthrew

the Qaddafi regime. Similarly, a violent uprising by opponents of the

Syrian regime of President Bashar al-Assad attracted sympathy, weapons,

Iraq War

U.S.-British

withdrawal from Iraq

Intervention in Libya

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1067123. Social and Environmental Challenges in the Twenty-First Century

and political support from the European and American governments, but the NATO alli-

ance refused to intervene with more direct military assistance for the Syrian rebels. Most

Europeans also favored opposition groups in other Arab countries, where political move-

ments during the “Arab spring” overturned authoritarian governments in 2011 and con-

tinued to push for democratic reforms in the following years; yet even the most

sympathetic European governments did not send military support as the new movements

challenged “old regime” authorities and institutions.

European governments were thus engaged in numerous international confl icts during

the early twenty-fi rst century, though European populations were generally more skepti-

cal of warfare than in any previous era of their modern history. New wars were fought

outside Europe by relatively small professional armies, but these confl icts never resembled

the “total wars” that European powers had once fought between them-

selves. Although Europe’s role in future international confl icts could not

be known, it seemed likely that most Europeans would support only cer-

tain kinds of “humanitarian interventions” or specifi c campaigns for human

rights. The legacy of imperialism and the memory of the costly world wars,

however, had shaped a broad-based European resistance to most contemporary wars and

military interventions, including the American-British invasion of Iraq and the lingering

NATO involvement in Afghanistan.

123. SOCIAL AND ENVIRONMENTAL CHALLENGES IN THE TWENTY-FIRST CENTURY

The Population Explosion

Of all the social developments in the late twentieth century one of the most spectacular

was the growth of the world’s population. From about 1950, as a result of medical discov-

eries, improved health and sanitation measures, declining infant mortality, and more effi -

cient food production and distribution, death rates declined dramatically while birth rates

rose. In India, for example, the death rate in 2000 was half the 1950 fi gure and its popula-

tion rose from 350 million in 1950 to over to 1 billion at the beginning of the twenty-fi rst

century. Globally, the number of human beings grew so rapidly that demographers spoke

of a population explosion. In 1950, when the contemporary takeoff began, world popula-

tion totaled 2.5 billion; at the end of the century it exceeded 6 billion. Never before had

human beings lived through a doubling of the world’s population in their own lifetime;

nor had they ever faced the kinds of environmental changes that accompanied this huge

population increase.

It took the world millions of years for its human population to reach the quarter-billion

mark some 2,000 years ago. Not until about 1650 did the population double

to a half-billion. It then doubled in less than two centuries to reach its fi rst

billion about 1830. By about 1930, in only one century, it again doubled to

reach 2 billion. By 1960, in a little over 30 years, it grew to 3 billion; 14

years later, in 1974, to 4 billion; 13 years later, by 1988, to 5 billion; in

1999 after only 11 years, it passed the 6 billion mark; and by 2012 demographers reported

that the world’s population had reached 7 billion. The time required to add a billion people

to the world’s population, and for the population to double in size, had grown shorter than

ever before in history. The annual growth rate for much of this time, close to 2 percent,

meant the addition of well over 80 million people annually.

European views of

war

Growth in the late

twentieth century

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Chapter 26 Europe and the Changing Modern World1068

Although predictions were never certain, demographers began to fi nd indications of a

slowdown in the rate of growth. Sometime between 1965 and 1970 the global annual

growth rate seems to have peaked at about 2 percent, and then the rate began to decline,

unevenly and irregularly, to about 1.5 percent. Nonetheless, because of the huge popula-

tion base demographers still pushed well into the future the time and estimated fi gure at

which stabilization might be achieved. Even with a reduced growth rate, the world popula-

tion fi gure was projected for 2050 at a range between 8 to 12.5 billion; some believed that

it could peak at just over 11 billion. A debate continued over the “carrying capacity” of the

earth, the maximum number of humans that the earth’s resources could sustain.

The population growth rate after about 1965 was showing signs of decline because

of declining birth rates, a pattern manifesting itself not only in the industrial world but in

the developing world as well. The population increase in the second half of the twentieth

century took place largely in Asia, Africa, and Latin America, where three-

fourths of the world’s population lived and where birth rates were highest.

By contrast, in North America and especially in Europe birth rates were

already lower. Industrialization, urban life, education, and social pressures

for smaller families had begun to reduce birth rates ever since the late nineteenth century.

In the industrially developed countries of western Europe growth rates were now below

Changing birth rates

The deployment of NATO forces in Afghanistan marked a new era in the long-established European-American military alliance. The Afghan War was the fi rst confl ict in which NATO troops were sent to wage war in a country far outside Europe, but this mission was orga- nized and sustained as the central Asian component of a broad European-American campaign against terrorist groups. These German soldiers were part of a NATO detachment that was guarding sites such as this Afghan gasoline station in 2009, eight years after the war had begun. (Michael Kappeler/AFP/Getty Images)

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1069

the population replacement rate of 2.1 children. Italy and Spain had the lowest rates with

an average of 1.2 children per woman of child-bearing age, and Italy was expected to

decline in population over the next 25 years unless considerable immigration took place.

In the United States the population was still growing, in good part because of immigra-

tion and immigrant families. Europe and North America in general, however, were expe-

riencing a shrinking share of world population as the number of people in Asia, Africa,

and Latin America continued to grow. Several of the world’s major religions still forbade

artifi cial birth control measures, numerous societies restricted educational and vocational

opportunities for women, and traditional patterns of life in many parts of the world, espe-

cially the poorest, encouraged large families for the sustenance and support of the elderly.

The impact of the global population explosion in the second half of the twentieth century

would therefore be felt in Europe and the whole world far into the future.

The Environment

In addition to the environmental challenges that emerged from the sheer growth of the

world’s population, other dangers grew with the worldwide expansion of industry, auto-

mobile and truck transportation, coal-burning power plants, and deforestation. From 1950

This photograph of British soldiers on patrol in a southern Iraqi city in 2004 suggests the chal- lenges that European and American troops faced as they tried to discern the social, political, and religious complexities of an unfamiliar Middle Eastern society during the second Iraq War. As military outsiders in this cultural context, heavily armed British troops often pro- voked suspicion or resistance, even when they sought to promote humanitarian goals. (Marco di Lauro/Getty Images)

123. Social and Environmental Challenges in the Twenty-First Century

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Chapter 26 Europe and the Changing Modern World1070

THE GLOBAL POPULATION EXPLOSION The world’s population has more than tripled in size since 1930, but the growth has been most rapid over the last fi ve decades, especially in Latin America, Africa, and Asia. Before the twen- tieth century, world population had never before doubled in any half-century, so the recent increase can truly be called an “explosion.” The world’s population passed the 6 billion mark in 1999 and reached 7 billion in 2012. Although wealthy societies have lower growth rates than most poor nations, the wealthy societies consume the largest portion of the world’s resources. Future population growth is expected to occur mainly in the less industrialized regions of the globe, but demands on the earth’s limited resources will continue to grow in both the wealthy and poor nations. The question is whether the growth of population and the growing demand for resources can be slowed in ways that will protect the earth’s increasingly overstrained environment. (United Nations Demographic Yearbook)

M il li o

n s

o f

in h

a b

it a n

ts

1930 1950 1980 2000

2,013

1,073

155 109 176

135

355

2,486

1,355

217

162

180

168

392

5,280

3,100

646

445

288

278

496

6,366

3,688

805

517

290

306

729

Asia (except former U.S.S.R.)

Africa

Latin America

Former U.S.S.R.

Australasia United States and Canada

Europe (except former U.S.S.R.)

0

1,000

500

1,500

2,000

2,500

3,000

3,500

4,000

4,500

5,000

6,000

5,500

6,500

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1071

to 2000 world industrial production grew more than fi vefold, burning vast amounts of oil,

coal, wood, and natural gas and steadily increasing the atmospheric carbon dioxide, meth-

ane, and other “greenhouse gases” that trap heat in the atmosphere. Although the full

implications remained a subject of political debate and controversy, almost all scientists

and environmentalists were certain that the increasing modern emission of

these gases was causing temperatures to rise. The decade of the 1990s was

the warmest in 600 years, and the global warming trend continued in the

new century. The effects of greenhouse gas emissions over the course of

the twenty-fi rst century were projected (on the basis of current trends) to bring about

increases of at least 3 to 5 degrees Fahrenheit in the earth’s mean surface temperatures.

Some projections suggested that temperature increases could possibly go as high as 10 or

11 degrees Fahrenheit—a change that would produce highly dangerous ecological effects.

Although nobody could predict the precise consequences of global warming, the

changing climate was expected to alter agricultural production, water supplies, and coast-

lines. There was already clear evidence that polar ice caps were melting, glaciers were

receding, sea levels were rising, and weather patterns were becoming more turbulent.

European societies would face major economic challenges as these changes continued to

develop. Wheat-producing areas in France, for example, would have lower yields as the

French climate became warmer and drier; and some of the soils that support the vineyards

for Europe’s diverse wines would no longer be hospitable for the delicate

grapes that have been cultivated for centuries in Spain or Italy or France.

The European Environmental Agency, a component of the EU, collected

extensive information on the continent’s climate and developed recommen-

dations to cope with the various environmental threats. Greenhouse gases

and rising temperatures could well pose a much greater long-term threat to the European

economy than the sovereign debt crisis in the euro zone. Recognizing these dangers, Euro-

pean governments tried to reduce the emission of greenhouse gases, expand public trans-

portation, protect forests, and sustain the productivity of traditional farmlands.

Europeans also made new efforts to reduce the pollution of their air and water. Indus-

trial pollution caused the acid rain that laid waste to many forests, lakes, and rivers in the

industrial nations. Severe environmental damage in the former Soviet Union, the former

Communist nations in eastern Europe, and the People’s Republic of China confi rmed that

pollution was not confi ned to any single economic system; central planners had pressed

development with little regard for the ecological consequences. Many other nations in both

the wealthier and poorer regions of the world long paid little attention to their environ-

ment. Under the pressure of expanding population and rapid urbanization, they permitted

the slashing and burning of forests for ranching, timber exports, urban expansion, and

resettlement.

From the 1970s on a newly sensitized international community began to speak of sus-

tainable growth rates, growth that could be maintained without the destruc-

tion of humanity’s natural habitat. Alternative forms of energy, some as old

as the sun and the wind, others new, like nuclear energy (with proper safe-

guards, to be sure) were proposed. Emissions from industrial factories and

from vehicles came under stricter controls. A number of industrial nations,

including all the countries of Europe, agreed to stop production of chlorofl uorocarbons,

which were widely used in air-conditioning and in aerosol propellants and which damaged

the earth’s ozone by releasing dangerous amounts of chlorine into the upper atmosphere.

Other UN-sponsored meetings and treaties followed. In 1992, at the fi rst “Earth Summit”

Climate change

Economic effects of

climate change

Sustainable economic

growth

123. Social and Environmental Challenges in the Twenty-First Century

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Chapter 26 Europe and the Changing Modern World1072

meeting in Rio de Janeiro, representatives of 178 countries pledged to protect plant and

animal species and to take steps in a “climate treaty” to halt global warming. In 1997 rep-

resentatives from 150 countries met at Kyoto, where they agreed to reduce the emission of

so-called greenhouse gases by 50 percent.

As awareness of ecological dangers grew, grass-roots environmental organizations

multiplied, and in several countries emerged as “Green” political parties. Despite the

numerous pledges and measures to counter the threat of environmental deterioration, there

was opposition to strict environmental regulations in some poor countries and in industri-

alized countries, including China, India, Australia, and the United States (which withdrew

from the Kyoto agreement in 2001).

Population growth and the threat to the environment added to Europe’s concerns at

the beginning of the twenty-fi rst century and the new millennium. Many of the most press-

ing concerns, however, were not new: the social implications of contemporary science and

technology, the sovereignty of nations, peace among nations, and the quest within nations

for freedom, dignity, and economic well-being. All were aspects of one overriding prob-

lem. How could human beings in each generation, regardless of sex, color, creed, religion,

nationality, or ethnic background—beings said by some to be made in the image of God,

by others to have a natural right to life, liberty and happiness, by still others to have the

freedom to create meaning in a meaningless universe—live out their lives in peace, fulfi ll

their destiny, and pass on their heritage to future generations?

The constant changes and upheavals in contemporary human history might be com-

pared to cataclysms in the natural world. A cataclysm is not a time of downfall only.

Mountains crumble, but others are thrust up. Lands vanish, but others rise from the sea. So

it is with the political and social cataclysm of our times. Old landmarks are worn down.

Empires pass away; new nations arise in their place. Subjugated peoples regain indepen-

dence; rigid ideologies collapse. The ascendancy of Europe and the European nations

closes; they learn to negotiate with others, not to rule them. There is a

greater fl uidity in social relationships. Women and minorities struggle for

equal places in society. But social justice and peace remain elusive goals.

The gap between rich and poor among nations, and within nations, is not

easily overcome. Old and new diseases, natural catastrophes, and armed confl icts exact

their toll. Resurgent nationalism feeds on intolerance and hatred. Never has war been so

potentially destructive; the menace of a nuclear war that would blight much of civilization

wanes but does not disappear. Uncontrolled economic development threatens the envi-

ronment, and population growth presses on natural resources. International cooperation

and intervention are needed to protect human rights, end or prevent wars, and sustain the

earth’s billions.

But there is a growing global recognition of all these concerns. To close this long

history on a note of placidity would indeed be inappropriate, but it would also be wrong

to close on a note of doom. The history of Europe and the modern world shows the aston-

ishing range of human imagination and ingenuity, and there are good historical reasons

to believe that people will continue to confront future problems and challenges with the

determination, creativity, and new ideas that lead to social progress.

Change across time

For suggested further readings and useful Web sites, interactive exercises, glossary, chronologies,

and more, go to the Online Learning Center at www.mhhe.com/palmerhistory11e.

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A1

APPENDIX, INDEX, SUGGESTIONS FOR FURTHER READING www.mhhe.com/palmerhistory11e

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A2

HOLY ROMAN EMPIRE

Habsburg Line

Maximilian I, 1493–1519

Charles V, 1519–1556

Ferdinand I, 1556–1564

Maximilian II, 1564–1576

Rudolph II, 1576–1612

Matthias, 1612–1619

Ferdinand II, 1619–1637

Ferdinand III, 1637–1657

Leopold I, 1658–1705

Joseph I, 1705–1711

Charles VI, 1711–1740

Charles VI was succeeded by a daughter, Maria

Theresa, who as a woman could not be elected

Holy Roman Emperor. French infl uence in 1742

secured the election of

Bavarian Line

Charles VII, 1742–1745

On Charles VII’s death the Habsburg control of

the emperorship was resumed.

Lorraine Line

Francis I, 1745–1765 (husband of Maria

Theresa)

Habsburg-Lorraine Line

Joseph II, 1765–1790 (son of Francis I and

Maria Theresa)

Leopold II, 1790–1792

Francis II, 1792–1806

The Holy Roman Empire became extinct in

1806.

AUSTRIAN DOMINIONS

The rulers of Austria from 1438 to 1740, and at

least titular kings of Hungary from 1526 to 1740,

were the same as the Holy Roman Emperors.

After 1740:

Habsburg Line (through female heir)

Maria Theresa, 1740–1780

Joseph II, 1780–1790

Leopold II, 1790–1792

Francis II, 1792–1835

In 1804 Francis II took the title of Emperor,

as Francis I of the Austrian Empire. Austria

was declared an “empire” because Napoleon

proclaimed France an empire in that year, and

because the demise of the Holy Roman Empire

could be foreseen.

Ferdinand I, 1835–1848

Francis Joseph, 1848–1916

Charles I, 1916–1918

The Austrian Empire became extinct in 1918.

BRITISH ISLES

Tudor Line

Kings of England and Ireland

Henry VII, 1485–1509

Henry VIII, 1509–1547

Edward VI, 1547–1553

Mary I, 1553–1558

Elizabeth I, 1558–1603

A p p e n d i x

RULERS AND REGIMES In Principal European Countries since 1500

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Appendix Rulers and Regimes A3

In 1603 James VI of Scotland, a great-great-

grandson of Henry VII, succeeded to the English

throne.

Stuart Line

Kings of England and Ireland, and of Scotland

James I, 1603–1625

Charles I, 1625–1649

Republican Interregnum

The Commonwealth, 1649–1653

The Protectorate

Oliver Cromwell, 1653–1658, Lord Protector

Richard Cromwell, 1658–1660

Restored Stuart Line

Charles II, 1660–1685

James II, 1685–1688

In 1688 James II was forced out of the coun-

try, but Parliament kept the crown in a female

branch of the Stuart family, calling in Mary, the

daughter of James II, and her husband William

III of the Netherlands. Mary died in 1694.

William III and Mary II, 1689–1702/1694

Anne, 1702–1714

In 1707, through the Union of England and

Scotland, the royal title became King (or Queen)

of Great Britain and Ireland. The Stuart family

having no direct Protestant heirs, the throne

passed in 1714 to the German George I, Elector

of Hanover, a great-grandson of James I.

Hanoverian Line

Kings of Great Britain and Ireland

George I, 1714–1727

George II, 1727–1760

George III, 1760–1820

George IV, 1820–1830

William IV, 1830–1837

William IV having no heirs, the British throne

passed in 1837 to Victoria, a granddaughter of

George III. Though the British family has con-

tinued in direct descent from George I, it has

dropped the Hanoverian designation and is now

known as the House of Windsor. From 1877 to

1947 the British rulers bore the additional title of

Emperor (or Empress) of India.

Victoria, 1837–1901

Edward VII, 1901–1910

George V, 1910–1936

Edward VIII, 1936

George VI, 1936–1952

Elizabeth II, 1952–

FRANCE

Valois Line

Louis XI, 1461–1483

Charles VIII, 1483–1498

Louis XII, 1498–1515

Francis I, 1515–1547

Henry II, 1547–1559

Francis II, 1559–1560

Charles IX, 1560–1574

Henry III, 1574–1589

In 1589 the Valois line became extinct, and the

throne passed to Henry of Bourbon, a remote

descendant of French kings of the fourteenth

century.

Bourbon Line

Henry IV, 1589–1610

Louis XIII, 1610–1643

Louis XIV, 1643–1715

Louis XV, 1715–1774

Louis XVI, 1774–1792

The Republic

Convention, 1792–1795

Directory, 1795–1799

Consulate, 1799–1804

The Empire

Napoleon I, 1804–1814, Emperor of the French

and King of Italy

Restored Bourbon Line

Louis XVIII, 1814–1824

(Royalists count a Louis XVII, 1793–1795, and

date the reign of Louis XVIII from 1795.)

Charles X, 1824–1830

The Revolution of 1830 gave the throne to the

Duke of Orleans, descendant of Louis XIII.

Orleans Line

Louis-Philippe, 1830–1848

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Appendix Rulers and RegimesA4

Second Republic

1848–1852

Second Empire

Napoleon III, 1852–1870, Emperor of the French

Third Republic

1870–1940

Vichy Regime

1940–1944

Provisional Government

1944–1946

Fourth Republic

1946–1958

Fifth Republic

1958–

PRUSSIA (AND GERMANY)

A continuous Hohenzollern line ruled until 1918.

Electors of Brandenburg and Dukes of Prussia

George William, 1619–1640

Frederick William, 1640–1688, the “Great Elector”

Frederick III, 1688–1713

In 1701 Frederick III was permitted by the

Holy Roman Emperor to entitle himself King in

Prussia, as Frederick I.

Kings of Prussia

Frederick I, 1701–1713

Frederick William I, 1713–1740

Frederick II, the “Great,” 1740–1786

Frederick William II, 1786–1797

Frederick William III, 1797–1840

Frederick William IV, 1840–1861

William I, 1861–1888

In 1871 William I took the title of German

Emperor.

German Emperors

William I, 1871–1888

Frederick III, 1888

William II, 1888–1918

The German Empire became extinct in 1918. It

was succeeded by the

Weimar Republic

1919–1933

(The Weimar Republic is an unoffi cial title for

what was still called the Deutsches Reich, a

phrase not easy to translate accurately.)

The Third Reich

1933–1945

(The Third Reich is an unoffi cial title for the

Deutsches Reich under Adolf Hitler.)

Allied Military Government in 1945 was

followed by

German Federal Republic (West Germany)

1949–1990

German Democratic Republic (East Germany)

1949–1990

The two Germanys were united in 1990.

German Federal Republic

1990–

SARDINIA (AND ITALY)

In 1720 Victor Amadeus II, Duke of Savoy, took

the title of King of Sardinia, having acquired

the island of that name. The kingdom was often

called Piedmont because of the king’s older

mainland domain.

Kings of Sardinia

Victor Amadeus II, 1720–1730

Charles Emmanuel III, 1730–1773

Victor Amadeus III, 1773–1796

Charles Emmanuel IV, 1796–1802

Victor Emmanuel I, 1802–1821

Charles Felix, 1821–1831

Charles Albert, 1831–1849

Victor Emmanuel II, 1849–1878

In 1861 Victor Emmanuel II took the title of

King of Italy.

Kings of Italy

Victor Emmanuel II, 1861–1878

Humbert I, 1878–1900

Victor Emmanuel III, 1900–1946

Humbert II, 1946

In1946 the Kingdom of Italy became extinct and

was succeeded by the

Italian Republic

1946–

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Appendix Rulers and Regimes A5

SPAIN

Ferdinand and Isabella, 1479–1504/1516

Isabella died in 1504, but Ferdinand lived

until 1516, whereupon the Spanish thrones

were inherited by their grandson Charles, who

became Charles V of the Holy Roman Empire,

but was known in Spain as Charles I.

Habsburg Line

Charles I, 1516–1556

Philip II, 1556–1598

Philip III, 1598–1621

Philip IV, 1621–1665

Charles II, 1665–1700

With Charles II the Spanish Habsburg line

became extinct, and the throne passed to the

French Bourbon grandson of Louis XIV of

France and great-grandson of Philip IV of Spain.

Bourbon Line

Philip V, 1700–1746

Ferdinand VI, 1746–1759

Charles III, 1759–1788

Charles IV, 1788–1808

Bonaparte Line

Joseph, 1808–1813 (brother of Napoleon)

Restored Bourbon Line

Ferdinand VII, 1813–1833

Isabella II, 1833–1868

In 1868 Isabella abdicated; after a regency, and

a brief reign by Amadeus I (Savoy), 1871–1873,

there was a short-lived First Republic, 1873–

1874, succeeded by

Alfonso XII, 1874–1885

Alfonso XIII, 1885–1931

In 1931 a republican revolution unseated

Alfonso XIII.

Second Spanish Republic

1931–1936

Spanish Civil War

1936–1939

Regime of General Francisco Franco

1939–1975

Upon the death of Franco the Bourbon family

was restored.

Juan Carlos I, 1975–

RUSSIA (AND U.S.S.R.)

Grand Dukes of Moscow

Ivan III, the “Great,” 1462–1505

Basil III, 1505–1533

Ivan IV, the “Terrible,” 1533–1584

In 1547 Ivan IV took the title of Tsar of Russia.

Tsars of Russia

Ivan IV, the “Terrible,” 1547–1584

Theodore I, 1584–1598

Boris Godunov, 1598–1605

Time of Troubles

1604–1613

Romanov Line

Michael, 1613–1645

Alexis, 1645–1676

Theodore II, 1676–1682

Ivan V and Peter I, 1682–1689

Peter I, the “Great,” 1689–1725

Catherine I, 1725–1727

Peter II, 1727–1730

Anna, 1730–1740

Ivan VI, 1740–1741

Elizabeth, 1741–1762

Peter III, 1762

Catherine II, the “Great,” 1762–1796

Paul, 1796–1801

Alexander I, 1801–1825

Nicholas I, 1825–1855

Alexander II, 1855–1881

Alexander III, 1881–1894

Nicholas II, 1894–1917

In 1917 the tsardom became extinct.

Provisional Government

1917

Communist Revolution

1917

Union of Soviet Socialist Republics

1922–1991

In 1991 the Communist regime ended and the

U.S.S.R. dissolved into its component republics

(Russia, Ukraine, Belarus, etc.), loosely asso-

ciated with each other in a Commonwealth of

Independent States.

Russian Federation

1991–

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Dates given after names of rulers and popes are the years of reigns or pontifi cates; those given for all others are the years of birth and death.

Pronunciation is indicated where it is not obvious. With foreign words the purpose is not to show their exact pronunciation in their own language but to suggest how they may be acceptably pronounced in English. Fully Anglicized pronunciations are indicated by the abbreviation Angl. Pronunciation is shown by respelling, not by symbols, except that the following symbols are used for vowel sounds not found in English: ø indicates the sound of ö as in Göttingen. To form this sound, purse the lips as if to

say o, and then say ay as in ate. U indicates the sound of the French u, or of German ü. To form this sound, purse the

lips as if to say oo, and then say ee as in eat. aN, oN, uN, iN indicate the sounds of the French nasal vowels. Once learned, these are

easily pronounced, roughly as follows: For aN, begin to pronounce the English word on, but avoid saying the consonant n and “nasalize” the ah sound instead. For oN do the same with the English own; for uN, with the English prefi x un-; for iN, with the English word an.

The sound of s as in the word treasure is indicated by zh. This sound is common in English, though never found at the beginning or end of a word. igh always indicates the so-called long i as in high. The vowel sound of hoot is indicated by oo, that of hood by ŏo.

Compared with English, the European languages are highly regular in their spelling, in that the same letters or combinations of letters are generally pronounced in the same way.

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I1

Abelard, Peter (1079–1142), 42

Abolitionists, 565

Absolutism, 137, 162; defi nition, 179; in France,

176–179, 370; of James I of England, 160–

161; and natural law, 262; in Russia, 222,

227, 556

Acadia (Nova Scotia), 190

Acid rain, 1071

Activism, social, in 1960s, 1053–1054

Act of Settlement of 1662, 166

Act of Settlement of 1701, 171, 287

Act of Supremacy, 88

Adams, John Quincy (1767–1848), 486

Adenauer, Konrad (1876–1967), 908, 910

Adriatic Sea, 195

Aehrenthal, Alois von (air-en’-tall)

(1854–1912), 695

Afghanistan, 678; Islamic fundamentalism, 947;

NATO forces in, 1068; Soviet Union invades,

981, 991; United States invades, 1065

Africa. See also African Revolution; Africans; Belgian Congo; South Africa; Sub-Saharan

Africa; West Africa: Berlin conference of

1885, 664, 665; colonial, 644, 654–655,

662–671; communism, 941; Congo Free

State, 664; contemporary (map), 938; conti-

nent of, 936; Dutch Republic, 155; economy,

eighteenth century, 278–280; exports, 592;

First World War, 708; German colonies, 668;

Italian colonies, 847, 860; Maasai peoples,

942; 1914 (map), 670; Muslims in, 936,

937, 947; nationalism, 936–937; population,

573, 936, 1068; Portuguese in, 667, 926,

946; post–WWII, 889; precolonial, sites and

peoples (map), 667; Second World War, 860,

864–866; and the Soviet Union, 946

African Americans: post–Civil War, 566; post–

Revolutionary War, 356; Second World War,

862; in slavery, 564–565

African Financial Community, 945

African Revolution, 936–947

Africans: in Europe, 112; slavery and slave trade,

104, 105, 191, 192, 264, 280, 301; Western-

ized, 666

African states, diversity in, 936–947

Afrika Korps, 860

Afrikaners, 669, 670

Age of Enlightenment, 234, 266, 309–361; and

American Revolution, 358, 360; Great Britain,

345; literacy, 312–313; Philosophes, 312–315;

religion and, 310–311, 317–318; and revolu-

tion, 368; social institutions and culture in,

322–323; social mobilty and, 333; women in,

312–314, 320

Agnosticism, 626–627

Agricultural depression, 803–806

Agricultural revolution, 452–453

Agriculture: collective, Soviet Union, 767–769;

eighteenth century, 276–277, 280, 282,

366–368; France, 366–368; mechanization of,

768, 805; and population growth, 29–32; and

technology, 7–8, 29–32

AIDS (acquired immuno-defi ciency syndrome),

1037

Aix-la-Chapelle (eks-la-sha-pell’), Congress

of, 481

Akbar, Emperor of India (1556–1605), 303

Alaska, 566, 926

Albania, 204, 781, 1005

Albany Plan of Union, 352

Albert of Brandenburg, 83

Alcohol, distillation of, 270

Alexander, King of Serbia (1888–1921), King of

Yugoslavia (1921–1934), 1012

Alexander I, Tsar of Russia (1801–1825), 230,

338, 413–418, 437–438; dies, 487; post-

Napoleon, 475, 483, 486

Alexander II, Tsar of Russia (1855–1881): assassi-

nated, 562, 737; reforms of, 557, 560–562

Alexander III, Tsar of Russia (1881–1894), 737

Alexander the Great (356–323 B.C.), 13

Alexander VI, Pope (1492–1503), 55

Alexandra, Tsarina of Russia (1894–1917), 749

Alexis (son of Peter the Great), 229

Alfonso XIII, king of Spain (1886–1931), 847

Algebra, 22

Algeria, 905, 937, 938; FLN (National Liberation

Front), 939

All-African People’s Congress, 941

Allies. See First World War, allies; Second World War, allies

All-India Muslim League, 675

Almanacs, 273

Alsace, 187, 190; and Treaty of Versailles, 726

I n d e x

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IndexI2

Alva, Duke of (1508–1583), 125, 128

Amalgamated Society of Engineers, 613

American Revolution, 343, 345, 348, 352–361;

Boston Tea Party, 353; British reaction, 348;

and Enlightenment thinkers, 358; and France,

355–356, 360–361; infl uence of, in Europe,

359–361; signifi cance of, 356–361; taxation

without representation, 352–353; War of

Independence, 355–356

Americas. See also Canada; Latin America; United States: British colonies, 159–160, 190, 192,

235, 280, 284, 306–308; colonization and

exports, 592; discovery of, 102–104; and

eighteen-century economy, 280; French

colonies, 190, 306–308; Seven Years’

War, 301; Spanish Empire in, 76, 104–108,

483–486

Amin, Idi (1925–2003), 943–944

Amsterdam, 127, 132, 155

Anabaptists, 77, 82

Anarchism, in Russia, 562

Anatomy, study of, 240

Andropov, Yuri V. (1914–1984), 988

Anglican Church (Church of England), 88, 91, 97;

Age of Enlightenment, 311, 344; threatened,

by James II, 168

Anglo-German industrial competition, 692–693

Anglo-Saxons, 24

Angola (ang-go’la), 946

Annales school, 1044 Anne, Queen of England (1702–1714), 193, 287

Anschluss, 836, 846, 850. See also Austria; Nazi Germany

Anselm, Saint (1033–1109), 42

Anthony, Saint (1195–1231), 43

Anthony, Susan B. (1820–1906), 618

Anthropology, 622, 623–624, 631

Anti-Corn Law League, 494–495

Antisemitism, 53, 75, 635, 1005. See also Holo- caust; Nazi Germany; condemnation by Vati-

can, 1050; of Hitler, 827, 829; Soviet Union

(U.S.S.R), 918

Antwerp, 127, 131, 132

Apollo space capsule, 1040

Applegarth, Robert (1834–1924), 615

Aquinas, Thomas (a-kwine’-us) (1225–1274), 42,

44, 263; Summa Theologica, 44, 45 Arabic numerals, 221

Arabic world: early Middle Ages, 20–23; infl uence

of, 42

Arab-Israeli wars, 951–952, 970

Arab League (League of Arab States), 947, 952

Arab states: confl ict with Israel, 951–953;

geographical territory, 946

Arab world, modern (map), 946

Aragon, 75

Archangel, port of, 220, 224

Architecture, England, seventeenth century, 160

Arch of Triumph, Paris, 426, 429, 507, 857

Argentina, industrialization, 719

Aristotle (384–322 B.C.), 12, 13, 42, 45, 237;

Politics, 12 Arithmetic, Russian, 221

Arkwright, Richard (1732–1792), 454

Armenia, 1003

Armenians, 655, 657, 708

Armies: standing, 213, 215; technological limita-

tions of, 210

Arminius, Jacobus (1560–1609), 153

Arms race, 960, 961–962, 969, 983–985; Non-

Proliferation Treaty, 1062–1063

Armstrong, Neil (1930-2012), 1040

Art: Baroque style, 152; Depression era, 808–810;

modern, 1044–1048, 1061; modernist, 809,

810; nineteenth century, 626–631; non-

representational, 1045–1046; Renaissance,

59–62, 71; 1920s, 810; seventeenth century,

151–154, 156, 174–175; Soviet Union

(U.S.S.R), 764, 771

Artifi cial conception, 1039

Artists, Dutch masters, 112

Artois, Count (later Charles X of France) (ar-

twah’) (1757–1836), 386, 476

Asia, 100, 101. See also under individual coun- tries; individual countries; anti-Imperialism, 790–802; colonization and exports, 592;

containment policy in, 895–896; economy,

eighteenth century, 278–280; economy, twen-

tieth century, 1033; imperialism in, 671–678;

independent nations of, 929–933; nationalism,

685–687, 792; population growth, 1068; west-

ernization, 792, 793

Asiento (ah-syen’-to), 191 Asquith, Herbert (1852–1928), 601

Assad, Bashar al- (1965–), 1066

Assignats (sh-see-nyah’), 381, 382 Astrology, 235

Astronomy, 151, 221, 240–241

Astrophysics, 1039

Atatürk, Mustapha Kemal (1881–1938), 795,

796, 947

Atheism, 259

Atlantic Alliance, 894–895

Atlantic Charter, 876, 877

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Index I3

Atlantic Migration, 579–583

Atlantic Ocean, opening of, 100–108

Atlantic Revolution, 343–345

Atlantic World after the Peace of Utrecht

(map), 192

Atomic bomb, 873–875, 883, 887, 1038

Attila the Hun (att-i’-la) (406?–453), 20

Attlee, Clement (1883–1967), 880, 881, 902

Augustine, Saint (aw’gus-teen or aw-gus’-t’n)

(354–430), 18; City of God, 18 Aung San Suu Kyi (1945– ), 929–931

Aurungzeb, Emperor of India (aw’-rung-zeb)

(1658–1707), 303

Australia, 568, 579, 609, 815; Second World

War, 861

Austria: Cold War, 960; EU membership, 977;

independence, 921, 960; post–WWI, 714,

781, 782; united with Nazi Germany,

846, 850

Austria-Hungary: collapse of, 714–716; dual mon-

archy, 554–555, 607; First World War, 690,

694–697, 702, 712

Austrian Empire, 206–210, 508–515; centraliza-

tion attempted, 331–332; diets, 208; domin-

ions of, 206–208, 508–509; and enlightened

despotism, 329–332; fall of, 508–515; and

the French Revolution, 388, 412; growth of

(map), 209; Italian War of 1859, 542; and

Napoleonic Europe, 412, 413, 415, 418;

nationalities in, 508–509; and partition of

Poland, 337, 338; religious oppression,

209; rise of, 200; serfs, eighteenth century,

329–330; War of Austrian Succession, 294,

295–299; and War of Spanish Succession, 188

Austrian Succession, War of, 294, 295–299; Peace

of Aix-la-Chapelle, 297

Austrian War of Liberation, 418

Austro-Prussian War, 547, 548

Autocracy, 556

Automobile: invented, 583; mass produced,

802–803

Axelrod, Paul (1850–1928), 740–741

Axis powers, Second World War. See also Nazi Germany; Second World War, Italy; Second

World War, Japan: alliance of Germany,

Italy, and Japan, 849–450; Japanese neutrality

treaty with Soviet Union, 861; threat to Medi-

terranean and Middle East, 860

Azerbaijan (a-zer-bigh-jan’), 1003

Aziz, Abdul, Sultan of Turkey (a-zeez’, ab’dool)

(1861–1876), 656

Aztecs, 103

Babeuf, “Gracchus” (1760–1797), 401

Baby boom, 901, 904

Babylonian Captivity, 52, 53

Bach, Alexander (1813–1893), 514–515

Bach, J. S. (1685–1750), 311

Bach family, 197

Bach system, 514–515

Bacon, Francis (1561–1626), 236–238, 251;

Advancement of Learning, The, 238; New Atlantis, The, 238; Novum Organum, 237

Bader-Meinhof gang, 1055

Badoglio, Pietro (bah-do’-lyo) (1871–1956), 866

Bahia, Brazil, 155

Bakunin, Michael (ba-koo’-nin) (1814–1876):

Catechism of a Revolutionist, 562; People’s Justice, 562

Balance of power, 150, 157, 158

Baldwin, Stanley (1867–1947), 814

Balfour, Arthur (1848–1930), 708

Balfour Declaration, 708

Balkans, 698. See also Albania; Bulgaria; Croa- tia; Greece; Serbia; Yugoslavia; ethnic and

religious divisions, 694; First World War,

692–695; independence, 487–488; 1600s,

204, 207; Second World War, 858–859

Baltic states, 990. See also Estonia; Latvia; Lithuania

Bangladesh, 929

Banking industry: credit system, 531; eighteenth

century, 288–289; interest payments and,

114–115; nineteenth century, 530–532, 584–

586, 588–589; seventeenth century, 155, 173

Bank of Amsterdam, 155

Bank of England, 173, 189

Baptists, 77

Barbados, 159

Barbary pirates, 130, 132, 481

Baroque style, 152

Barth, Karl (bart) (1886–1968), 634, 1049

Bastille, storming of (Angl. Bass-teel’), 373–374; commemoration, 382

Batavia (Jakarta), 155

Baudrillard, Jean (1929-2007), 1047

Bayle, Pierre (1647–1706), 174, 252; Historical and Critical Dictionary, 252; Thoughts on the Comet, 252

Bay of Pigs invasion, 963

Beauty, Greek concept of, 17

Beauvoir, Simone de (1908–1986): The Second Sex, 1055, 1056

Beccaria, Marquis di (beck-a-ree’-a)

(1738–1794), 315

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IndexI4

Beckett, Samuel (1906–1989): Waiting for Godot, 1048

Becquerel, Antoine Henri (1852–1908), 625

Beer hall Putsch, 828, 829 Behaim’s globe (be-hime’), 102, 255

Bekker, Balthasar (1634–1698), 151

Belarus, 1003, 1006

Belgian Congo, 663–664, 945–946; and the Cold

War, 945

Belgian Socialist Party, 615

Belgium, 131, 296, 389, 400; democratic advances,

608; First World War, 708; Industrial Revo-

lution, 584; post–WWII, 914; revolution of

1830, 489–491; same-sex marriage, 1057;

Second World War, 854, 855; and Treaty of

Versailles, 727

Bellini, Giovanni (bell-lee’-nee) (1430–1516), 62

Benedict, Saint (480–543), 24

Benedict XVI, pope (2005–2013), 1051

Benelux countries, 914–916

Bentham, Jeremy (1748–1832), 465

Bering Strait, 2

Berlin airlift, 890–894

Berlin Decree, 416

Berlin Wall: constructed, 963, 964; torn down,

996, 998

Berlusconi, Silvio (1936–), 1022, 1023

Bernard of Saxe-Weimar (sakse-vihmar)

(1604–1639), 142

Berners-Lee, Tim (1955–), 1034

Bernstein, Eduard (bairn’-stighn) (1850–1932),

775; Evolutionary Socialism, 617 Bessemer steel-making process, 585

Beveridge, William Henry (1879–1963), 902

Bhutto, Benazir (1953–2007), 1056

Bible, 24, 81, 82, 263; and chronology, 257; and

evolution, 622, 631–632

Biblical criticism, 257–259, 631–632

Big business, 591–593, 638–639, 1020–1021,

1033–1034

Bill of Rights, English, of 1689, 171, 265

Bin Laden, Osama (1957–2011), 1064

Biochemistry, 1039

Biophysics, 1039

Biotechnology, 1039

Birth control, 575, 618, 1056–1057, 1069

Birth rates, 575

Bismarck, Otto von (1815–1898), 523, 545–547,

604–606, 613, 690; and African colonies,

664; resigns, 606, 608; and Russo-Turkish

War, 659

Black Death, 50–51

Black Hand, 696–699

Black Hole of Calcutta, 305

Black Hundreds, 747

Blackshirts, 822–823

Blair, Tony (1953–), 974, 1024, 1025, 1065

Blanc, Louis (blaN’ or Angl. Blahnk) (1811–1882), 503, 612; Organization of Work, 467, 498; Revue de Progrès, 467

Blenheim, battle of, 188, 190

Blum, Léon (blUm) (1872–1950), 819, 820

Boccaccio, Giovanni (1313–1375):

Decameron, 63 Bodin, Jean (1530–1596), 136

Boer War, 647, 669–671

Bohemia, 138, 139, 206; Revolution of 1848, 511;

War of Austrian Succession, 295–299

Bohemian Mountains, 195

Bohemian War, 140

Bohr, Niels (1885–1962), 625, 1038

Boileau, Nicolas (bwah-lo’, nee-ko-la’)

(1636–1711), 175

Boleyn, Anne (bo-lin’) (1507–1536), 88, 90

Bolívar, Símón (bo-lee’-vahr) (1783–1830),

484, 485

Bolsheviks, Bolshevism, 743–744; anti-

imperialism, 792; fear of, 732; vs. Menshe-

viks, Menshevism, 617, 710, 742; opposition

to, 754, 756; purged, from Communist Party,

773–774; return from exile, 710; seize power,

751–752; Third International, 775–778; vs.

totalitarianism, 838

Bonaparte, Joseph (1768–1844), 484

Bonaparte, Louis Napoleon (Napoleon III). See Napoleon III (Louis Napoleon Bonaparte),

Emperor of the French

Bonaparte, Napoleon. See Napoleon I (Napoleon Bonaparte), Emperor of the French

Bonhoeffer, Dietrich (1906–1945), 1049

Boniface VIII, Pope (1294–1363), 52, 55

Bon Marché department store, 595

Bonnie Prince Charlie, 288

Books, popular: Age of Enlightenment, 312–313;

eighteenth-century Europe, 273

Borgia, Cesare (bor’-ja) (1475–1507), 55

Borgia, Lucretia (1480–1519), 55

Bosnia and Herzegovina, 204, 658, 1012, 1061;

declares independence, 1014; ethnic and reli-

gious divisions, 1014–1015

Bossuet, Bishop (boss-way’) (1627–1704),

178–179

Boston Tea Party, 353

Botany, study of, 240

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Index I5

Boulanger, General (boo-laN-zhay’)

(1837–1891), 597

Boulton, Matthew (1728–1808), 454

Bourbon kings (Angl. Boor-bn), 136, 184–185. See also under individual monarchs; individual monarchs; restoration of, 439–441; rule Spain, 285; War of Austrian Succession, 297;

War of Spanish Succession, 189

Bourdichon, Jean (1457–1521), 99

Bourgeois revolution, 344–345

Bourgeosie, 118–119, 495, 496. See also Middle class; eighteenth-century Europe, 283; and the

French Revolution, 365–366, 371, 379, 381

Boxer Uprising, 684

Boyle, Robert (1627–1691), 248

Brahe, Tycho (1546–1601), 242

Brandenburg, 211–212. See also Prussia; and Thirty Years’ War, 212

Brandenburg house. See Hohenzollerns Brandt, Willy (1913–1992), 910, 977, 994

Braque, Georges (1882–1963), 629

Brazil: discovered, 104; Dutch Republic in, 155;

independence, 483; industrialization, 719

Brazza, Pierre Savorgnan de (1852–1905), 663

Brest-Litovsk, Treaty of (brest-lee-toffsk’), 710,

754, 755

Bretton Woods, New Hampshire, conference,

912–914

Brezhnev, Leonid I. (brezh’-neff) (1907–1982),

921, 966

Brezhnev Doctrine, 967

Briand, Aristide (bree-aN’) (1862–1932), 789, 790

Brienne, Loménie de (Archbishop of Toulouse), 370

Brissot, Jacques-Pierre (bree-so’) (1754–1793), 387

British colonies, 159–160, 264, 301, 441–442. See also East India Trading Companies; in Africa, 669, 939–944; in the Americas, 190, 192; in

Asia, 675–678, 926, 929, 930, 932; in India,

304, 308, 673–675, 814, 926; in Middle East,

707–708, 814, 889

British East India Company, 116, 160, 279, 351,

353, 680

British Empire, 679; and the Mediterranean, 6; and

overthrow of Napoleon, 439–440; War of

Spanish Succession, 188; as world power, 441

British Labour Party, 601, 613, 614

British North America Act, 567

British reform movement, 343–352

Bronze Age, 11

Brooke, Rupert (1887–1915), 721

Brousse, Paul (broos’) (1844–1912), 615

Brown, Gordon (1951–), 1025

Brownshirts, Nazi, 829

Bruegel, Pieter (1564–1638): Carnival on the Feast Day of Saint George, 274

Bruni, Leonardo, 58

Bubbles, South Sea and Mississippi, 288–289

Buddha, 16

Buddhism, 1052

Buffon, Georges, comte de (1707–1788), 314

Bulgaria, 609, 658–659, 781; fall of communism,

999–1000; Second World War, 858, 869, 881

Bulls, papal, 52

Bureaucracy, Austrian monarchy, 331

Burke, Edmund (1729–1797), 341, 348, 349,

379, 475; Refl ections on the Revolution in France, 386

Burma (Myanmar), 861, 928, 929–931

Burschenschaft (boor’shen-shaft), 477 Burton, Antoinette M., 654

Bush, George H. W. (1924–), 992

Bush, George W. (1946–), 1064–1066; war in

Iraq, 1025

Byelorussians, 220. See also Belarus Byron, Lord (1788–1824), 461

Byzantine Empire, 19–20, 22, 49

Cabinet Government, in Great Britain, 293

Cabot, John (1450–1499), 104

Cabot, Sebastian (?1474–?1557), 104

Cabral, Pedro (ka-brahl’) (1468–1520), 104

Cadets (Russian Constitutional Democrats), 738

Caesaropapism, 19

Calas, Jean (ka-lass’, zhaN) (1698–1762), 317

Calculus, invented, 240

Calcutta, 305

Calendars, various, 197, 221

California, 565

Callot, Jacques (1592–1635): The Hanging Tree, 141

Calonne (French director of fi nances) (ka-lunn’)

(1734–1802), 370

Calvin, John (1509–1564), 70, 85, 87, 115; Insti- tutes of the Christian Religion, 85

Calvinism, 77–78, 125. See also Huguenots; and democracy, 87–88; doctrines of, 85–86; in the

Dutch Republic, 153; and ecumenical move-

ment, 1048; in Germany, 139; in the Nether-

lands, 127, 131; opposition to, 134; spread of,

86–87, 133, 139

Cambacérès, Marquis de (kaN-ba-say-ress’)

(1753–1824), 407

Cambodia, 967

Cambridge University, 41, 90, 121, 166, 1037

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IndexI6

Cameralists/cameralism, 321, 329

Cameron, David (1966–), 1026, 1066

Camp David, 960

Campion, Thomas (1567–1620), 160

Camus, Albert (ka-mU’) (1913–1960), 937, 1043

Canada, 486, 567–568; British, 307, 567, 815;

Dominion of, 567; French, 174, 302–304,

567; Second World War, 866

Canning, George (1770–1827), 485–487

Canossa, 40

Canton system, of recruitment, 217

Cape Horn, 155

Cape of Good Hope, 155

Capet, Hugh (ka-pay’) (987–996), 30

Capital: accumulation, 586; export of,

586–588, 590

Capitalism, 460. See also Free trade; Laissez-faire economics; advent of, 113–115; and big busi-

ness, 591–593; eighteenth century, 281–282,

288–293; vs. industrialism, 450; paternalistic,

466; post–WWI, 716; United States, 884–885

Capitulations, in Turkey, 205, 655

Carbonari (kar-bo-nah’-ree), 470–471

Caribbean Islands: Dutch Republic in, 155

Carinthia, 206

Carlsbad Decrees, 478

Carnegie, Andrew (1835–1919), 593

Carniola, 206

Carnival, eighteenth-century Europe, 274

Carolina colonies, 159

Carter, Jimmy (1924–), 981

Cartier, Jacques (1491–1557), 104

Cartography, 2–3, 71

Caspian Sea, 220

Cassat, Mary (1844-1926), 628; The Boating Party, 631

Castiglione, Baldassare (1478-1529): Book of the Courtier, 66

Castile, 75

Castro, Fidel (1926– ), 962, 1055

Catalonia: Catalan war, 133, 142, 189; indepen-

dence movement, 847

Catherine II (The Great), Tsarina of Russia

(1762–1796), 230, 314; domestic program,

334–335; foreign policies, 336–338, 340; and

the French Revolution, 386

Catherine of Aragon (1485–1536), 88

Catholic Church (Roman Catholic Church). See also French Revolution; Gallican Church; Holy Roman Empire; Papacy: Age of

Enlightenment, 331; and Austrian Empire,

509, 514; Babylonian Captivity, 52; Catholic

Reformation, 93–98; celibacy, 40, 94; cor-

ruption, 55; and Democratic Revolution, 344;

and ecumenical movement, 1048; educational

institutions, 96–97, 121, 507; in fascist Italy,

825; in France, 596, 598; and the French

Revolution, 364, 381, 383–385; in German

Empire, 605; Great Schism of the West,

53–54; Index of Prohibited Books, 97; in

Italy, 542, 544, 607, 634; Middle Ages, 38,

39–41, 52–54; and Napoleon’s Empire, 422,

424; nineteenth century, 634; in Palestine,

655; in Poland and Hungary, 922; Renais-

sance, 67, 75–76; in Spain, 75–76, 124–125;

twentieth century, 1048, 1049–1051; Vatican

Council, 634; women in, 92–93, 1051

Catholics: in the Balkans, 694; civil rights for,

491; repression of, 172, 350, 602–605

Cato Street Conspiracy, 479

Caucasus Mountains, 859

Cavaignac, General Louis-Eugene (ka-vay-nyack)

(1802–1857), 505, 506

Cavour, Camillo di (ka-voor) (1810–1857),

541, 543

Ceausescu, Nikolae (sho-shess’-coo) (1918–1989),

999–1000

Cell biology, 1039

Censorship, 97, 478; Age of Enlightenment, 313,

369; post-Napoleonic Britain, 479; post-

Napoleonic Germany, 478; and totalitarian-

ism, 836–837

Central and Eastern Europe, 198–199; nationalities

(map), 1013

Cervantes, Miguel de (Angl. ser-van’-teez) (1547– 1616): Don Quixote, 124

Ceylon (Sri Lanka), 928

Cézanne, Paul (1839–1906), 629, 635

Chador, 955, 956

Chagall, Marc (1887–1985): Autour d’Elle, 809 Chamberlain, Joseph (1836–1914), 642,

650–651, 691

Chamberlain, Neville (1869–1940), 650, 814, 845,

850–851

Chancellor, Richard (d. 1556), 220

Charlemagne (768–814), 26–27

Charles I, King of England (1635–1649), 161–162;

defeated, 163; executed, 163, 165

Charles I, King of Spain (Charles V, Holy Roman

Emperor) (1516–1556), 77, 81–84, 88, 93,

111, 124

Charles II, King of England (1660–1685), 165,

167–168; alliance with Louis XIV, 166, 187;

favors Catholicism, 167

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Index I7

Charles II, King of Spain (1665–1700), 148

Charles IV, King of Spain (1788–1808), 417

Charles IX, King of France (1560–1574), 134

Charles of Lorraine, Duke, 207

Charles V, Holy Roman Emperor (Charles I of

Spain) (1500–1558), 77, 79, 81–84, 93,

111, 124

Charles VI, Holy Roman Emperor (Charles III of

Hungary (1711–1740), 210, 218

Charles X, King of France (1824–1830), 477, 488;

as Count of Artois, 386, 476

Charles XII, King of Sweden (1697–1718),

211, 225

Charter of 1838, 499

Chartism, 499–500, 505, 506

Chateaubriand, René (1768–1848), 461

Châtelet, Emilie du (sha-tuh-lay’, ay-muh-lee’ dU)

(1706–1749), 312

Chechnya, 1007, 1008–1010

Cheka, 754, 757

Chemistry, modern, 583

Chernenko, Konstantin U. (1911–1985), 988

Chernobyl disaster, 989, 1038

Chiang Kai-shek (1887–1975), 801

Child labor laws, 494, 576

Children: born out of wedlock, 270; declining

numbers of, in nineteenth century, 578

China, 47–48, 101. See also Chinese Revolution; People’s Republic of China; anti-imperialism,

791, 800; Boxer uprising, 684; chronology,

257; First World War, 708; geographical ter-

ritory, 678–679; imperialism in, 680–681;

Japan invades, 847, 849–850; nationalism,

679, 685–687; Northeast, and adjoining

regions (map), 683; Opium War of 1839–

1841, 680; pre-Western, 678–680; thirteenth

century, 47–48; trade with, 108

Chinese language, transliteration of, 798

Chinese Revolution, 798, 800

Ch’ing (Qing) dynasty, 678, 679. See also Manchu dynasty

Chirac, Jacques (shee-rak’, zhak) (1932–),

975, 1027

Christian calendar, 257

Christian Democrats, 996; France, 902; Germany,

1026, 1027; Italy, 911, 1021; West Germany,

908, 910, 996

Christianity, 16–19. See also Catholic Church (Roman Catholic Church); Greek Orthodox

church; Protestant Reformation; Russian

Orthodox church; conversion, of barbarians,

26; Crusades, 45–48; ecumenical movement,

1048; emergence and spread of, 16–17; in

the Enlightenment, 310–311; and the French

Revolution, 395–396; and humanists, 70–71;

in Middle Ages, 38–48; Middle East, 654;

monasteries, 24, 27; Papacy, 24, 26

Christians, persecution of, 17

Christina, Queen of Sweden (1632–1654),

166, 211

Chronology: defi nition, 256; differing, by culture,

256–257

Churchill, John, Duke of Marlborough

(1650–1722), 188, 190

Churchill, Winston (1874–1965), 669, 856, 860,

902; “iron curtain” speech, 888, 889; meets

with Allies, 876–878, 880

Church of England, 88, 91, 97; seventeenth cen-

tury, 161, 162

Church of Ireland, 91, 602

CIA (Central Intelligence Agency), 890

City-states, of Italy, 56–61, 67

Civil Constitution of the Clergy, 383, 384

Civilization: indices of advancement, 570–571;

Western ideals, 570

Civil unions, 1057

Civil War, United States, 564–566; and Europe,

565–566; and nationa-building, 566; Northern

prosperity, 566; slavery and, 564–565

Classes, social, 117–124; Age of Enlightenment,

311; and British reform movement, 344;

eastern vs. western Europe, 123–124; and

education, 121; eighteenth-century Europe,

268–275; and etiquette, 272; and the French

Revolution, 365–366; Germany, 436; and

government regulation, 121–122; and health,

272; and language, 268–269; living standards,

269–270; and Napoleonic Europe, 422; nine-

teenth century, 495–496, 498; nobility, 122;

Prussia, 332–333; and religion, 271–272, 311;

Russia, 738; and social mobility, 281–283;

Soviet Union (U.S.S.R), 760–761, 771; and

totalitarianism, 838, 839

Classical Liberals, 463–464

Class solidarity vs. nationalism, 771

Class war, 504–506, 526–530, 639–640. See also Russian Revolution; Soviet Union (U.S.S.R),

766, 767

Clay, Henry (1777–1852), 472

Clemenceau, Georges (kluh-maN so’)

(1841–1929), 725–726, 729

Clement VII, Pope (1478–1574), 88

Clergy: as First Estate, 364; post-Reformation, 119

Climate, 6, 7; global warming, 1071, 1072

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IndexI8

Clinton, William J. (1946–), 1024

Clive, Robert (1725–1774), 305

Clocks, 221

Cloots, Anacharsis (kloats) (1755–1794), 387

Cloth industry, 111, 113–117; English

woolens, 160

Clovis, King of Franks (466–511), 24

Cluniac reform movement, 39–40

Coal industry, 454–455, 588

Coffee and coffeehouses, 270, 271

Coins, minting, 51, 155; study of, 256

Colbert, Jean-Baptiste (kole-bair’) (1619–1683),

183, 184

Colbert’s commercial code, 183

Cold War, 884–897, 960–970; Berlin airlift, 890–

894; containment, 888–890, 960; détente,

960, 969; ends, 988, 992; Germany, 908; iron

curtain, 888–889; Kennedy years, 961; and

national sovereignty, 884–885; nature and

legacy of, 982–983; and nuclear weapons,

884, 889, 959, 983–985; Reagan years, 981,

983–986; and science, 884; superpowers and,

959–960; and the Third World, 926, 928,

941, 945

Coligny, Gaspard de (ko-lee-nyee’)

(1519–1672), 135

Colonialism. See also Imperialism: vs. imperial- ism, 645–646

Colonial wars, 647; Africa, 667–668; France, 905

Colonies. See under individual countries; indi- vidual countries

Columbus, Christopher (1446–1506), 102–103

Combination Act of 1799, 613

Comets, 252

Cominform (Communist Information Bureau), 890

Comintern (Communist International), 775–778,

792, 819

Commercial capitalism, 115

Common Market, 915–916

Commonwealthmen, 346

Commonwealth of Independent States (formerly

U.S.S.R), 1003

Communards, 594, 596

Communism, 460. See also Bolsheviks; Cold War; Communist Party; People’s Republic of

China; Vietnam War; Africa, 941; Chinese,

778, 800–802, 883, 888; collapse, in Eastern

Europe, 992–1000; containment, 888–890,

968; Cuba, 964–965; and fascism, 777; and

First World War, 775; France, 816–817; inter-

national impact, 775, 784; and labor unions,

776, 818–819; North Korea, 889, 895–896;

and peasant mir, 739; vs. socialism, 775–777,

780; Soviet Union (U.S.S.R), 884; vs. totali-

tarianism, 838–839; war communism, 754,

761; Yugoslavia, 889, 895

Communist China. See People’s Republic of China Communist League, 523

Communist Party, 816; Czechoslovakia, 890;

France, 816, 902, 903; Indonesia, 933, 934;

Italy, 902, 911, 1022; U.S.S.R, 760–761, 772

Communist uprisings, Germany, 786

Comprehensive Nuclear Test Ban Treaty, 1062

Computers, 1020, 1034–1035

Comte, Auguste (koNt) (1798–1857), 522

Concentration camps, Nazi, 833, 840, 871

Conciliar movement, for Church reform, 54–55

Concordat of Bologna (kon-kor’-dt of bol-lo’-nya)

(1516–), 75, 93

Condorcet, Madame de (Sophie) (1764–1822),

314, 387

Condorcet, Marquis de (koN-dor-say’) (1743–

1794), 468; Progress of the Human Mind, 391 Confederation of the Rhine, 415

Confucius (551–479 B.C.), 16

Congo, 663–664, 945–946

Congo Free State, 664

Congress of Berlin, 659

Congress of People’s Deputies, 990

Congress of Vienna, 442–444

Congress system, ends, 486–487

Conquistadores, 103 Conscription, military. See Draft, military Conservatism, 460, 475, 972–973

Conspiracy of Equals, 401

Constant, Benjamin (1767–1830), 463

Constantine, Emperor of Roman Empire (306–

337), 17, 19, 487

Constantinople, 19, 20, 49

Constitution, United States, 264; Nineteenth

Amendment, 781

Constitutionalism, 262, 344, 460; and American

Revolution, 358–359; and French Revolution,

379–381

Constitutional monarchy, 600–601, 607

Consulate, French (1799–1804), 406–410; and

religion, 408–410

Contemporary history, beginning of, 884

Continental System, 416–418, 425–431; failure of,

428–431, 437

Continuity and change, 246

Contraception, 575, 618; and overpopulation,

1069; and women’s rights, 1056–1057

Copernican revolution, 1039

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Index I9

Copernicus, Nicholas (1473–1543), 71, 242–244;

On the Revolutions of the Heavenly Orbs, 242 Copley, John Singleton (1738–1815), 354

Corneille, Pierre (kor-nay’) (1606–1684), 174

Corn Laws, 478, 492; repealed, 495, 584

Corporate liberties, 34

Corporations, 591–593; multinational, 1033–1034

Corporative state, 825

Cortés, Hernando (kor-tez’, er-nan’-do)

(1485–1547), 103

Cossacks, 220, 222

Cottage industry, 111, 113, 276–277

Cotton cloth industry, 279, 453–455; cotton lords,

457–458

Council for Mutual Economic Assistance, 922

Council of Ancients, 400

Council of Blood, 128

Council of Constance, 54–55, 80

Council of Five Hundred, 400

Council of Trent, 93–95, 97

Council of Troubles, 125, 128

Counter Reformation (Catholic Reformation),

93–98, 141, 143; fi nancing, 105

Courbet, Gustave: Burial at Ornans, 524 Cowley, Malcolm: Exile’s Return

(1898–1989), 810

Craft unions, 34–35

Cranach, Lucas, the Elder (1472–1553), 81

Craxi, Bettino (1934–2000), 976

Crédit Mobilier (kray-dee’ mo-bee-lyay’), 531 Creoles, 484

Crimean War, 533–534, 537–539, 541; and Otto-

man Empire, 656; signifi cance, for consolida-

tion of nations, 537

Critical methods, literary, 64–65, 1043–1044

Croatia, 206, 1012, 1014–1015

Cromwell, Oliver (1599–1658), 163–165, 346

Crosby, Alfred W. Jr., 107

Cross-cultural exchanges, 107

Crusades, 45–48, 76

Cuba, 1005. See also Castro, Fidel; Cold War, 962; missile crisis, 921, 964–965

Cultural relativism, 1039

Culture: of civilization, chronology, 256–257;

contemporary, 1036–1058; and custom,

251–252; elite vs. popular, Age of Enlight-

enment, 311; elite vs. popular, eighteenth-

century Europe, 268–275; and geography, 2;

German, 432–435; and globalization, 100,

108, 251, 257; and human rights, 1059–1061;

material, 269–270; and natural law, 261–262;

origins, of twentieth century, 1036; political,

368–369; seventeenth century, 173–176; and

written language, 269; youth, 1053–1054

Culture system, 672

Cunard, Samuel (1787–1865), 496

Curie, Marie (1867–1934), 625

Curie, Pierre (1859–1906), 625

Currency, 51; European Union (EU), 1028–1030;

fl oating, 917–918

Customs, cultural, 251–252

Cyprus, 659

Czechoslovakia (Bohemia), 138–140, 714, 729;

anti-Communist rebellion, 967–968, 997,

998–999; communist, 890, 921; democratic

reforms, 1018; EU membership, 1018; NATO

membership, 1062; post–WWI, 782, 783–784,

790; Second World War, 850, 851, 892

Da Gama, Vasco (?1469–1524), 101–102

Daladier, Edouard (1884–1970), 820, 851, 852

d’Alema, Massimo (da-lay’-ma mas-see’-mo)

(1949–), 1022

D’Alembert, Jean le Rond (dal-laN-bair’)

(1717–1783), 314

Danilevsky (da-nee-levs’-kee) (1822–1885):

Russia and Europe, 658–659 Dante (1265–1321): Divine Comedy, 63 D’Anville’s globe, 255

Darnton, Robert, 322

Darwin, Charles (1809–1882), 620–623; Decent of Man, 621; Origin of Species, 620, 621

Darwinian evolution, 1039

Dating, chronological, 257

Daumier, Honoré (1808–1879): Big Investments, 497

David, Jacques-Louis (dah-veed’) (1748–1825),

201, 378

Da Vinci, Leonardo (1452–1519), 61, 234–235

Dawes, Charles G. (1865–1961), 788

Dawes Plan, 788

Death: legal defi nitions of, 1039; rates, 571

Debts, national: England, eighteenth century, 289,

291; France, eighteenth century, 291, 381

Decembrist Revolt, 487

Declaration of Independence, 264, 355, 356, 987

Declaration of Pillnitz, 387, 412

Declaration of the Rights of Man and Citizens,

344, 375, 987

Declaration of Verona, 401

Deconstruction, literary, 1043–1044

Deductive reasoning, 237–238

De Gasperi, Alcide (de-gah’-spe-ree)

(1881–1954), 911

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IndexI10

De Gaulle, Charles (1890–1970), 903, 905–907,

910, 915, 916, 939, 951, 961, 965

De Grazia, Victoria, 834

Delacroix, Eugène (1798–1863): Liberty Leading the People, 490

Democracy: advance, twentieth century,

779–784

Democracy and Calvinism, 87–88; advance,

nineteenth century, 593

Democratic Republic of Congo, 945

Democratic Revolution, 343–352; and religion,

344; and social class, 344–345; and women,

376–377

Denmark, 85; alliance with Russia, 225; Austro-

Prussian War, 547, 548; same-sex marriage,

1057; Second World War, 854

Department stores, 593, 595

Deportment, social, Renaissance, 65–67

Depression era, 802–810, 812–814; art and lit-

erature, 808–810; France, 815–817; and free

market economy, 808; Great Britain, 807,

814; international monetary exchanges, 808;

labor unions, 812–814; precipitants of, 805,

806; stock market crash, 805; unemployment,

805–806, 812, 818–819; United States, 811;

Western Europe, 821

Derrida, Jacques (der’-ee-da, zhak)

(1930–2004), 1044

Descartes, René (day-kart’) (1596–1650),

174, 236, 238–240, 251; Discourse on Method, 239

Détente, Cold War, 960, 969

Developing nations, 925–927. See also Third World; birth rates, 1068–1069

Devis, Arthur (1712–1787): The Duet, 284 Dialectical materialism, 527

Diderot, Denis (dee-de-ro’) (1713–1784),

Encyclopédie, 314, 335, 338, 368 Dien Bien Phu, battle of, 935

Diggers, 165

Digital divide, 1034

Diplomatic Revolution of 1756, 299

Directory (1795–1799), 400–405

Disease, eighteenth-century Europe, 272

Disraeli, Benjamin (1804–1881), 600, 601, 657

Dissenters, 166, 171

Divine right of kings, 160, 161, 262, 263

Divorce, legalized in France, 377

DNA, 1039

Dobbs, Betty Jo Teeter, 246

Doenitz, Karl (1891–1980), 871

Dollfuss, Engelbert (1892–1934), 840, 846

Dominion status, of nations in former British

Empire, 567, 815

Donation of Constantine, 24

Don Juan, 128

Dostoevski, Fyodor (doss-to-effs’-kee)

(1821–1881), 658, 737

Doubt, principle of systematic, 238

Dover, Treaty of, 166

Draft, military, 712, 717; Second World War, 858

Drake, Sir Francis (1540–1696), 130

Drang nach Osten (drahng nach ohst’-en), 212 Dreyfus, Alfred (dray’-fuss) (1859–1935): Dreyfus

affair, 598–599, 635, 636

“Dropping the pilot,” 606, 608

Dualism, Cartesian, 238, 251

Duality, of religion and state, 17–18

Dubcek, Alexander (1921–1992), 966, 967,

997–998

Dublin University (Trinity College), 172

Dubuffet, Jean (1901–1985), 1045, 1046; Family Life, 1046

DuCange, Carolus (dU-kaNzh’) (1610–1688), 255

Duma, Russian, 747

Dupleix, Joseph-François (du-play’)

(1697–1763), 305

Dupont de Nemours, Pierre Samuel

(1739–1817), 320

Durham, Earl of (1792–1840), 567

Dutch Barrier, 190

Dutch-Belgian union, 489

Dutch East India Company, 117, 132

Dutch East Indies, 671, 672. See also Indonesia; dissolution of, 933–934

Dutch painters, 112, 151–153, 156

Dutch Republic, 127, 129, 132, 150, 151–157. See also Holland; Netherlands; after the Peace of Utrecht, 285; allied with England, 157, 168,

170; eighteenth century, 277–278; explora-

tions and settlements, 155; religion, 153, 155;

and Thirty Years’ War, 141; wars with Eng-

land, 157; wars with France, 157

Dutch West India Company, 155

Earth, planet, 1

Eastern Europe, 195–231; collapse of communism,

992–1000; communist, 921–923; feudalism,

782–784; Helsinki accords, 969; industrial-

ization, 571, 573; industrialization, barriers

to, 782–784; land reform, 784; nationalism,

473–474; post-Communist, 1017–1018; post–

WWI, 779, 781–782; resistance, to Soviet

rule, 923–924; Second World War, 877;

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social stratifi cation, 332–333; weaknesses, of

empires, 196

Eastern Front, WWII, 865–867, 869–870

East Germany. See German Democratic Republic (East Germany)

East India Company, 155

East India Trading Companies, 132, 155; England,

160; France, 183; Great Britain, 116; and

Seven Years’ War, 304

East Timor, 1061

Ecclesiastical Reservation, 84

Eckhart, Meister (1260–1327), 72

Ecology, 1039

Economic nationalism, 638, 639

Economists, 320–323; and laissez-faire econom-

ics, 381–382

Economy. See also Global economy; Planned economy: commercial revolution, 108–117;

government regulation, 121–122; informa-

tion-based, 1033, 1034; medieval, 32–36

Edict of Nantes (naNt), 137, 138, 185

Edict of Restitution, 141, 142

Education: in the arts, 174–175; and the Catholic

Church, 96–97, 507; compulsory, 576; early

Middle Ages, 27; fi rst universities, 41–42;

later sixteenth century, 121–122; public, 601;

and religious discrimination, 172; Renais-

sance, 65–67; state of, in Russia, 221; for

women, 65, 121, 151, 1056, 1057

Edward I, King of England (1272–1307), 52

Edward VI, King of England (1547–1553), 88–89

Egypt, 936; ancient, 10–11; Arab-Israeli wars,

951–952; Eisenhower and, 951; indepen-

dence, 947; and Ottoman Empire, 660, 661;

Second World War, 860, 865

Einstein, Albert (1879–1955), 611, 624–626, 1037

Eire, 815. See also Ireland Eisenhower, Dwight D. (1890–1969), 864, 867,

920, 935, 951, 960, 965

Eisenstein, Sergei (1898–1948): Potemkin, 764 Elector of Brandenburg, 212

Electricity, use of, 583

El Greco (1541–1614), 125

Elites, social, 268–275. See also Nobility; Age of Enlightenment, 311, 320, 331, 344; defi ning,

268; eighteenth-century Asia, 281

Elizabeth, Tsarina of Russia (1741–1762), 334

Elizabeth I, Queen of England (1558–1603), 90,

97, 125, 126, 128, 135, 646; aid to the

Netherlands, 128, 129; dies, 160; and

Huguenots, 138

Elliott, J. H., 107

Emancipation Proclamation, 564

Emerson, Ralph Waldo (1803–1882), 435

Emigration, from Europe, 579–583

Eminent property rights, 366–367, 375

Ems dispatch, 550

Enclosure acts, 452

Encomiendas, 105 Encyclopédie (Diderot and others) (aN-see-klo-

paydee’), 314, 368

Energy crisis, 970

Energy industry. See also Oil production: Nigeria, 942

Engels, Friedrich (1820–1895), 467, 523, 525,

612; on capitalism, 766; Communist Mani- festo, 467, 524, 525, 614; Condition of the Working Classes in England, 526

England. See British colonies; Great Britain; United Kingdom of Great Britain

English Bill of Rights, of 1689, 171, 265

English constitution, 265

English law of evidence, 254

English Poor Laws, 116, 119, 166

English Revolution, 169

Enlightened Despotism, 324–333; Austria,

329–332; defi nition of, 324–326; failures of,

326–329, 331–332; of Frederick the Great,

332–333; of Joseph II, 331–332; limitations

of, 338–339; of Maria Theresa, 329–332;

of Napoleon, 406; roots of, 325; Russia,

333–339

Enlightenment, Age of. See Age of Enlightenment Entertainment, eighteenth-century Europe, 272,

273–274

Entrepreneurs, 110

Environmental concerns, 1069–1072

Episcopalians, 1048. See also Anglican Church (Church of England)

Equality, principle of, 344

Erasmus of Rotterdam, Desiderius (1466–1536),

70, 72–73; On Civility in Children, 73; Hand- book of a Christian Knight, 73

Erzberger, Matthias (1875–1921), 829

Escorial (ess-kor’-i-al), 125

Estates, three, 37, 364–366

Estates General, 176, 177, 372; and the French

Revolution, 370–373

Estonia, 781, 921, 990

Ethics, 1039

Ethiopia, 665, 668; independence, 936; Second

World War, 847

Ethnic cleansing, 1014–1016

Ethnic diversity, global, 1022

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Ethnocentrism, 2–3; and imperialism, 651,

653, 791

Etiquette: eighteenth-century Europe, 272–273;

Renaissance, 65–67

Eugene of Savoy, Prince (1662–1736), 188, 207

Eugenics, 840

Eugénie, Empress (U-zhay-nee’)

(1826–1920), 531

Eurocentrism, 570, 573, 673–674; and

imperialism, 651, 653, 791

Eurocommunism, 911

Euro Cup soccer tournament, 1032

Eurodollars, 916

Europe, 31. See also Eastern Europe; Western Europe; individual countries; bodies of water, 6–7; boundaries of, 6; climate, 6, 7; demo-

cratic advances, 607–609; early Middle Ages,

23–28; 1815 (map), 446–447; 1871 (map),

558–559; emigration from, 579–583; ethnic

diversity in, 1023–1024; 1526 (map), 79;

immigration, twentieth century, 1023–1024;

Indo-Europeans, 11; infl uence of, 3, 6–10;

languages of, 473; Middle Ages, 9–48; migra-

tion from, 579–583; 1923 (map), 730–731;

1942 (map), 864; population distribution, 140;

post-Napoleonic, 475–479; post-Wars of Reli-

gion, 146; prehistoric, 11; rise of, 45–48; Sec-

ond World War (map), 868; 1740 (map), 327;

1648 (map), 144–145; social class, eighteenth

century, 268–275; topography (map), 4–5;

and United States Civil War, 565–566; war

debts, 719; wealth and knowledge, 267–268

European Central Bank, 1028, 1029

European Coal and Steel Community, 915

European Commission, Brussels, 1031, 1033

European Community (EC), 914–916, 977

European Court of Human Rights, 914

European Defense Agency, 1031

European discoveries, 101

European Economic Community, 905, 914–916

European Parliament, 1031

European population: growth, 573–575; stabiliza-

tion, 575–576

European Revolutions, 512

European Stability Mechanism (ESM),

1029–1030

European Union (EU), 977, 978–981, 1028; com-

mon currency, 1028–1030; constitution, 1031;

Court of Justice, 1031; economic policies,

1029; membership, 977, 1018; military forces,

1030–1031; unemployment, 1020–1021

Evangelical Protestants, 1049

Evidence: defi nition, 253; English law of, 254; and

historical scholarship, 253–257

Evil, and good, 17

Evolutionary theory, 620–623, 640; and religion,

631–632

Existentialism, 1042–1043

Exploding the diet, 202

Explorer I (satellite), 961 Explosives, invented, 583

Export industries, 592; Western Europe in

1960s, 916

Fabian socialism, 616, 928

Factory Act, 458

Fairfax, Thomas (1612–1671), 163

Faisal I, King of Iraq (1885–1933), 707, 729

Falkland Islands (Malvina Islands), 973

Falloux Law of 1850 (fa-loo’), 507

Family patterns, European, 575–576

Fanon, Frantz (1925–1961): The Wretched of the Earth, 939, 1055

Fascism, 780; appeal of, 827; and communism,

777; defi nition, 821; France, 818; Italy,

821–827; and totalitarianism, 833

Fascist state, 825–827

Fashoda crisis, 669

Faust (fowst), 71

February Revolution of 1848, 502–505

Federalism, and American Revolution, 358–359

Federal Republic of Germany (West Germany),

894–897, 899, 908, 909–910, 915, 960, 977;

denazifi cation, 907; Nuremberg Trials, 906,

907; reconstruction, post–WWII, 899–902

Feminism, 460. See also Women; Women’s rights; British feminists and ‘The Indian Woman,’

654–655; and liberalism, 638; nineteenth

century, 467–469, 618–620, 636–637; Soviet

Union (USSR), 764; twentieth century,

1055–1058

Ferdinand, Emperor of Austria (1835–1848),

513, 514

Ferdinand, King of Aragon and Spain

(1474–1516), 75

Ferdinand I, Holy Roman Emperor (1556–1564),

77, 124

Ferdinand VII, King of Spain (1808–1833),

417, 483

Fermi, Enrico (1901–1954), 1038

Festung Europa (Fortress Europe) (fess’-tung oi-ro’puh), 856, 862, 866

Feudalism, 30–32; abolished, 511–512, 520, 557;

decline of, 35–36; dissolution of, 166, 422,

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436–437, 452; eastern Europe, 123, 195, 217,

329, 332; eighteenth century, 329–332, 366–

367; France, 366, 367–368; postmedieval,

133, 176, 217; Russian, 222, 226, 229, 556

Fichte, J. G. (fi k’-tuh) (1762–1814), 435;

Addresses to the German Nation, 435; Closed Commercial State, 435

The Fifteen (Scottish Uprising), 288

Fifth Monarchy Men, 165

Final Solution, 870, 871. See also Holocaust Finland, 609, 728, 781, 921; EU membership, 977;

Second World War, 853, 881

First Coalition, 412

First International (International Working Men’s

Association), 615

First World War, 200; Africa, 708; Allies, 699,

706–707; armistice, 713; Austria-Hungary,

696–699, 702, 712; Balkan crises, 692,

694–695; battle of Jutland, 705; battle of the

Marne, 701–702; battle of the Somme, 702;

battle of Verdun, 702; Belgium, 708; British

isolation, 696; casualties, 713, 844; causes of,

697, 698–699; Central Powers, 699; China,

708; and Communism, 775; consequences

of, 844–845; cultural pessimism, 710–723;

cultural responses to, 722–723; diplomacy,

706–709; effects on capitalism, 716–719;

France, 697, 713; Germany, 696, 699, 701–

702, 705, 708–710, 713, 717; Great Britain,

692, 696; Greece, 793; India, 792; inevitabil-

ity of, 689; Italy, 706, 712, 822; Japan, 708;

land battles, 700–704; map, 700; Middle East,

792; Moroccan incident, 692; national debt

and, 719; naval blockade, 705, 711; Ottoman

Empire, 692, 694–695, 706, 707–708, 792,

793; Persia, 792; planned economy and, 716,

766; propaganda, 720, 723; reparations, 787,

788, 815, 828; Russia, 692, 694–696, 698,

702, 709–710; and the Russian Revolution,

749–751, 754, 755; Schlieffen Plan, 699, 700;

selective service (draft), 712; and socialism,

775; submarine warfare, 705, 711; Treaty of

Brest-Litovsk, 710; Triple Alliance, 690–691;

Triple Entente, 692; United States, 699, 706,

710–712; Versailles, Treaty of, 724, 725;

western front, 712, 713; Zimmerman tele-

gram, 706, 711

Five Great Farms, 183, 184

Five Year Plans, Soviet Union, 765–767; social

consequences, 770–772

Flagellants, Order of (fl a-jell’-nts), 53, 54

Flanders galleys, 100

Flaubert, Gustave (1821–1880): Madame Bovary, 520

Fleury, Cardinal (fl ur-ree’) (1653–1743), 286, 290,

293, 296

FLN (National Liberation Front), Algeria, 939

Florence, Italy, 57–58, 63

Flu epidemic of 1918, 713

Fontana, Lavinia (1552–1614), 66

Ford, Gerald (1913–2006), 969

Ford Motor Company, 587

Forster Education Act, 601

Fortress Europe (Festung Europa), 856, 862, 866

The Forty-Five (Scottish Uprising), 288

Forum, 14

Forza Italia Party, 1022 Fossils, 2

Foucault, Michel (1926–1984), 1044

Fouché, Joseph, Marquis de (foo-shay’)

(1759–1820), 407, 408

Fourier, Charles (foo-ree-yay’) (1772–1837), 466

Fourteen Points, 724, 725

Fourteenth Amendment, United States

Constitution, 566

Fox, Charles James (1749–1806), 348, 402

Fox, George (1624–1691), 164

France: absolutism, 176, 178–179; after Napoleon,

440–442; after the Peace of Utrecht, 285–293;

Age of Enlightenment, 360; and the American

Revolution, 355–356, 360–361; army, under

Louis XIV, 179–180; arts and culture, 173–

176; birthrates, 575; Catholic Church in, 507;

civil wars, 135–136, 138; climate and agri-

culture, 1071; colonial wars, 905, 934–935,

939, 940; colonies of, 174, 301–302, 304,

306–308, 394–395, 934; Communist Party,

816, 902, 903; Consulate, 405–410; Crimean

War, 533–534; Depression era, 818–821;

Directory, 400–401, 405; dominates Europe,

361; Dutch War, of 1672, 187; East India

Trading Companies, 304, 305; economy, eigh-

teenth century, 277–278, 288–290; economy,

under Louis XIV, 181, 183, 184; enlightened

despotism, 326–329; as EU member, 1032;

in European Coal and Steel Community, 915;

expansion of, 149; export of capital, 586;

fascism, 818; February Revolution of 1848,

502–505; feminism in, 468; feudalism, 366,

367; Fifth Republic, 905–906; First World

War, 698, 699, 701–702, 714; Fourth Repub-

lic, 903–904; Franco-Prussian War, 550–551;

free trade with Britain, 532; the Fronde,

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176–178; Huguenots, 126, 134; Hundred

Years’ War, 52; in India, 304; Industrial Revo-

lution, 584; invades Spanish Netherlands,

186; July Monarchy, 489, 496, 502; labor

strikes, 818, 820; labor unions, 617; from last

years of Louis XIV—1789 (map), 184; under

Louis XIV, 148–150, 157–158, 173–186;

Louis XIV and, 179–181, 186–193; medieval,

30, 33, 35, 42, 52; Napoleonic, 409–410; Nazi

Germany invades, 855–856; nuclear nonpro-

liferation treaty, 1062; opposition to Spain,

139, 142; pacifi sm, post–WWI, 844–845;

Paris Commune, 594; parlements, 176, 184;

Popular Republican Movement (MRP), 903;

population, eighteenth century, 277, 364–365;

postmedieval feudalism, 133, 176; post-Napo-

leonic, 488–489; post–WWI, 787, 815–819,

903–906; Protestant Reformation, 84; public

debt, 369; Revolution of 1789, 361; Revolu-

tion of 1830, 488–489; Revolution of 1848,

502–505; Second Empire, 531–532; Second

Republic, 507–508; Second World War, 844,

854–857, 867, 901; seventeenth century,

173–176; Seven Years’ War, 301–302, 304,

306–308; socialism, 594, 599–600, 615, 617,

904, 974–975, 1028; Spain invades, 135, 142;

Third Republic, 593–599; in Thirty Years’

War, 138, 142; and Treaty of Versailles, 726;

universal male suffrage in, 521; universal

monarchy, 285; University of Paris, 42; and

War of Austrian Succession, 296–297; and

War of Spanish Succession, 189–191; Wars of

Religion, 133–138; white terror, 476; wom-

en’s rights, 609, 975, 1056; youth

movement, 1054

Franche-Comté (fraNsh-con-tay’), 148, 149,

187, 190

Francis Ferdinand, Archduke of Austrian Empire

(1889–1914), 696–699

Francis I, King of France (1515–1547), 75, 84,

93, 134

Francis II, Emperor of Austrian Empire (1792–

1835), 332, 388

Francis Joseph, Emperor of Austrian Empire

(1848–1916), 514, 554, 607

Franco, Francisco (1892–1975), 840, 848

Franco-Prussian War, 550–551; French defeat at

Sedan, 551

Franco-Russian Alliance, 691

Frankfurt Assembly, 518–520, 545

Franklin, Benjamin (1706–1790), 312

Franks, 26

Frazer, Sir James (1854–1941): The Golden Bough, 623

Frederick I, King of Prussia (1701–1713), 213

Frederick II (The Great), King of Prussia

(1740–1786), 218, 295, 314; enlightened

despotism, 332–333; military triumphs, 218,

300, 308; and Voltaire, 317, 332

Frederick III, Elector of Brandenburg

(1688–1701), 213

Frederick III, German Emperor (1888), 606

Frederick V, King of Bohemia (1596–1532), 140

Frederick William (the Great Elector)

(1640–1688), 212–213

Frederick William I, King of Prussia (1713–1740),

217, 295

Frederick William III, King of Prussia

(1797–1840), 516

Frederick William IV, King of Prussia

(1840–1861), 516, 518, 519

Freeholders, 118

Free market, 321

Freemasonry (Masons), 312, 470

Free trade, 532, 584–586. See also Laissez-faire economics; and liberalism, 638–639

Free Woman (journal), 468 French-Algerian War, 939, 940

French and Indian Wars, 294

French Calvinists. See Huguenots French Congo, 945

French East India Company, 183

French General Confederation of Labor, 617

French imperialism, 680–682; in Asia, 680

French Imperial System (Napoleonic), 412–420

French North Africa, 937–939

French Republic and its satellites, 404

French Resistance to Nazi Occupation, 855,

867, 901

French Revolution of 1789–1799, 320, 332, 344,

361; and the Church, 367, 383–385, 408–410;

Committee of Public Safety, 393–394; com-

parison, with Russian, 735–736, 755; consti-

tution, 379–381; Declaration of the Rights of

Man and Citizens, 375; and the Enlighten-

ment, 368; Girondins, 385, 388, 390; Great

Fear of 1789, 374–375; impact on Europe,

385–389, 411–412; Jacobins, 379, 387–388,

390; and labor unions, 381–382; legacy of,

447; and the lower class, 370–371, 388, 390,

394; and the middle class, 365–366, 370–371,

379, 380–381; military triumphs, 396–397;

National Convention, 389–391; nobility and,

365–366, 370–371, 377–378, 389; political

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and social signifi cance of, 399; political

culture, 368–369, 382–383; Reign of Terror,

391–397; and religion, 367, 383–385, 395–

396, 408–410; sans-culottes, 390; “second” revolution, 388–389; storming of the Bastille,

373–374; and taxation, 369–370; Thermi-

dorian Reaction, 397–400; violence, 389

French sub-Saharan Africa, 944–945

Freud, Sigmund (froyd) (1856–1939), 624, 625,

1040; Civilization and Its Discontents, 823; Interpretation of Dreams, 624

Friedan, Betty (1921–2006): The Feminine Mystique, 1055, 1056

Frisians, 216

Fronde (frond), 176–178

Fructidor, coup d’etat, 402

Fugger, Johann, 111

Fugger family (foo-gr), 110–111

Fulton, Robert (1765–1815), 454

Fussell, Paul, 722

Futurism, 607

Gagarin, Yuri A. (ga-ga’-reen, you-ree)

(1934–1968), 1040

Gainsborough, Thomas (1727–1788), 347

Galen (c. 130–c. 200), 13, 240

Galicia, 337, 340

Galileo (1564–1642), 233, 243, 244

Gallican Church, 78, 93; alienation from interna-

tional Catholicism, 134; under Louis XIV, 185

Gallipoli, 702

Gama, Vasco da (?1469–1524), 101–102

Gandhi, Indira (1917–1984), 1056

Gandhi, Mohandas K. (1869–1948), 795, 796,

799, 927, 928

Gapon, Georgy (Father Gapon) (1870–1906), 745

Garibaldi, Giuseppe (ga-ri-ball’-dee, joo-sep’-pee)

(1807–1882), 541–544

Gaskell, Elizabeth (1810–1865): Mary Barton, 525 GATT (General Agreement of Tariffs and Trade),

912, 1035

Gauguin, Paul (1848–1903), 627; La Orana Maria, 628

Gay partnerships, 1057

Gaza Strip, 951, 955

Geffels, Franz (1635-c. 1699), 208

Gellner, Ernest, 540

Genetics, 623, 1039

Geneva, Switzerland: Calvin in, 86; diplomatic

summits, 960

Geneva Accords, 967

Geoffrin, Madame de (1699–1777), 313, 315

Geographical determinism, 7

Geographical knowledge, growth of (maps), 255

Geography: and culture, 2; and history, 1; and

politics, 7–8, 133

Geometry coordinate, 238, 240

Geophysics, 1039

George I, King of Great Britain and Ireland

(1714–1727), 198, 287, 288

George III, King of Great Britain and Ireland

(1760–1820), 307, 345, 346, 348, 443

Georgia (United States), 160

Georgia (U.S.S.R), 1003

German Democratic Republic (East Germany),

894, 908, 964; collapse, of communism,

992–997; communist consolidation, 923–924;

purges, 1018

German dualism, 516

German Empire, 552–553, 604–607; Catholic

Church in, 605, 606; collapse of, 714–716;

internal weakness, 697–698; socialism,

605–607, 615, 617

Germanic liberties, 197

German imperialism, 681

German Question, 549

German Social Democratic Party, 606, 607, 615,

785, 786, 1026

Germany, 893. See also Federal Republic of Ger- many (West Germany); German Democratic

Republic (East Germany); Nazi Germany;

Thirty Years’ War; Weimar Republic; African

colonies, 668; birthrates, 575; Christian Dem-

ocrats, 1026; class, social, 436; Cold War,

908, 964; communist uprisings, 786; decline,

sixteenth century, 139; and defeat of Napo-

leon, 440; Depression era, 829–830; early

commercialism, 123; early Middle Ages, 23,

26; economy of 1960s, 916; as EU member,

1032; export of capital, 586; First World War,

690, 692, 694, 696, 697–698, 701–702, 705–

706, 708–712, 714, 717; fragmented, after

Thirty Years’ War, 146, 197; Franco-Prussian

War, 550–551; imperialism, 650, 668; Indus-

trial Revolution, 584, 690; Locarno treaties,

789; 1919–1990 (map), 909; medieval, 30, 33,

40, 54; nationalism, 432–436, 478, 509, 544,

545; post-Napoleonic, 442–444, 478; post–

WWII, 881, 890–894; religious divisions,

138–139; Renaissance, 71–72, 76–77; repa-

rations, 890; reunifi cation, 996, 998, 1020;

Revolution of 1848, 509–511, 514, 516–620;

Social Democrats, 785, 786, 1026; Sude-

tenland, 727, 732; trade, with Soviet Union,

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787; and Treaty of Versailles, 726–728, 732,

786–787, 829; unifi cation of, 544–555; West,

976; women’s suffrage, 620

Germany, totalitarian. See Nazi Germany; Third Reich

Germany in Its Deep Humiliation (anonymous), 434–435

Gestapo, 833

Ghana (Gold Coast), 940–942

Ghent, 132

Gibbon, Edward (1737–1794): Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire, 315

Gibraltar, Strait of, 6, 188, 191, 285

Gide, André (zheed, aNdray) (1869–1951), 810

Gierek, Edmund (1913–2001), 993

Girondins (ji-ron-dins), 385, 388, 390, 391

Gladstone, William E. (1809–1898), 600–602,

613, 636

Glanville, Joseph (1636–1680), 251

Glasnost, 988, 989, 991

Global economy, eighteenth century, 275–284;

Africa in, 278–280; and the Americas, 280;

and Dutch Republic, 277–278; and France,

277–278; and Great Britain, 277–281; India

in, 279; and marriage, 283

Global economy, nineteenth century: and competi-

tion, 589, 591, 644; London’s role, 588–589;

monetary system, 588–589; world market,

589–591

Global economy, post–World War II, 912–918;

currency stabilization, 913–914, 916–918

Global economy, twentieth century, 970–981,

1032–1036; infl ation and recession, 971–972;

Japanese role in, 913; socialism, 974–975

Global economy, twenty-fi rst century, 1019–1020

Globalization, 9–10, 49; and common calendar,

257; critics of, 1035; and culture, 100, 251,

1020, 1032–1033, 1035–1036; world econ-

omy, 584–591, 644

Global warming, 1071, 1072

Glorious Revolution, 173, 266

Gneisenau, August (gnigh’-se-now)

(1760–1831), 436

Goebbels, Joseph (gøb’-lz) (1897–1945), 837, 906

Goethe, Johann Wolfgang von (gø’-tuh) (1749–

1832), 71, 425

Golan Heights, 951; map, 954

Gold Coast (Ghana), 940–942

Gold standard, 588–589; end of, 916–918; and the

Great Depression, 807

Gomulka, Wladyslaw (go-mool’-ka) (1905–1982),

923, 992

Gonzalez, Felipe (1942), 976

Goodman, Dena, 322

Gorbachev, Mikhail S. (1931–), 985, 988,

990–992, 1000–1002, 1004, 1010

Gouges, Olympe de (1755–1793), 467; The Rights of Woman, 376–377

Government, 160–163. See also Absolutism; Constitutionalism; and centralization of

power, 349; by representation, 344; separation

of powers, 316; seventeenth century, 160

Goya, Francisco de (1746–1828), 419

Gozzoli, Benozzo, 59

Graaf, Régnier de (grahf, ray-nee-ay’ de)

(1641–1673), 240

Grammar schools, 121

Grand Alliance, 188

Gravity, 245

Great Britain. See also American Revolution; British colonies; Parliament, English: after

the Peace of Utrecht, 285–293; allied with

Dutch Republic, 157, 158, 168, 170; ascen-

dancy, 191, 192; becomes United Kingdom,

601, 602; birthrates, 575; centralization, of

government, 349–350; civil war, 160–163;

and the Common Market, 914–916; as Com-

monwealth, 163; constitutional monarchy,

600–601; Depression era, 807, 814, 821; East

India Trading Company, 116, 160, 279, 351,

353; economic recession, 972–973; economy,

seventeenth century, 160; economy, eigh-

teenth century, 275–284; export of capital,

586–588; First World War, 692, 696, 705–

706, 711; free trade, 532, 584–586; and the

French Revolution, 386–387, 390; Hundred

Years’ War, 52; in India, 351–352, 646, 647;

Industrial Revolution, 431, 437, 453–458,

460, 584–586; industry, eighteenth century,

277–278; labor unions, 601, 613, 614, 812–

814; medieval, 30–31, 33, 35–37, 52; and

Napoleonic Europe, 425–431; Napoleonic

Wars, 412–414; national debt, 173; nation-

alism, 431–432; Navigation Act of 1651,

157, 164; Norman invasion, 30–31; nuclear

nonproliferation treaty, 1062; Pacifi sm, post–

WWI, 844–845; and Palestine, 708, 814;

Parliamentary reform, 1832, 492–493; popu-

lation, 158, 159, 277, 455; post-Napoleonic,

478–479; post–WWI, 812–814; as Protestant

bulwark, 130, 166; Protestant Reformation,

88–91; reconstruction, post–WWII, 902–903;

Reform Bill of 1832, 492–493, 600; reform

movement, 343; religious rebellions, 126;

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religious toleration, 491; Restoration, 165–

168; Revolution of 1688 (Glorious Revolu-

tion), 171, 265–266; rule of Ireland, 91, 158,

163, 164, 171, 350–351, 602–604, 815, 903;

and Russo-Turkish War, 657; Second Reform

Bill, 600; Second World War, 844, 854, 856–

858, 860, 864; seventeenth century, 158–165;

seventeenth century (map), 170; Seven Years’

War, 301–302, 304, 306–308; socialism, 601,

602, 613–616, 902–903; suffrage, 600, 780;

supports Huguenots, 135, 138; supports Neth-

erlands, 128; Tory regime, 491–493; Wars

of the Roses, 52; wars with Spain, 130–131,

164, 190, 293; in world economy, 586–589;

as world power, 455–458

Great Depression. See Depression era Great Elector (Frederick William), 212, 213, 215

Great Fear of 1789, 374–375

“Great Game, The,” 678

Great Moguls, 303

Great Schism of East and West, 28

Great Schism of the West, 53–54

Greece: civil war, 890; democratic advances,

609; as EU member, 977; First World War,

793; independence, 487–488; nationalism,

482–483; post–WWI, 728, 781, 784; Second

World War, 856, 859

Greece, ancient, 11–13; infl uence of, 13, 42; love,

concept of, 17; politics, 12; religion, 17;

written language, 13

Greek language, use of, 63

Greek Orthodox church, 50, 204, 218, 221, 223,

337, 655; in the Balkans, 694

“Greek project,” 337

Greenhouse gases, 1072

“Green” parties, 1039

Gregorian calendar, 257

Gregory VII (Hildebrand), Pope (1073–1085), 40

Gregory XIII, Pope (1572–1585), 197; Gregorian

calendar, 257

Grey, Sir Edward (1862–1933), 708

Grimm, Baron (1723–1807), 315

Grimm’s Fairy Tales, 471 Gromyko, Andrei (1909–1989), 988

Groote, Gerard (grote) (1340–1384), 72

Grosz, George (1893–1959), 880

Grotius, Hugo (gro’-shus) (1583–1645), 151;

Law of War and Peace, 262 Group of 8, 1062

Guadeloupe, 303, 307

Guam, 861

Guelph family, 198

Guesde, Jules (1845–1922), 615

Guest workers, 899–901

Guevara, Ernesto Che (gay-vah’-ra, chay)

(1928–1967), 1055

Guiana, 155

Guilds, 34–35, 110, 113; abolished, 382, 424;

opposition to, 115–116

Guillotine, 397, 398

Guise, Henry (1550–1588), 135, 136

Guise family (gheez), 135

Gulf of Aqaba, 951

Guns, eighteenth century, 294

Guomindang (National People’s Party), 798

Gustavus Adolphus, King of Sweden

(1771–1792), 141, 142, 211, 386

Gutenberg, Johannes (?1394–1468), 71

Habsburg, House of (Angl. Haps’-burg). See also under individual monarchs; individual mon- archs: after 1848, 553–554; alliance with Dutch Republic, 158; and Austrian monarchy,

188, 207–210, 285, 295; branches, 76–77, 79;

dominions (map), 79; French opposition, 140;

and the Holy Roman Empire, 76–77; infi rmi-

ties of, 148; Revolution of 1848, 513–514;

and Thirty Years’ War, 139–140; and univer-

sal monarchy, 149

Haeckel, Ernst (hay-kl) (1834–1919), 626

Hagia Sophia, 22

Hahn, Otto (1879–1968), 1037

Haiti, 395, 413

Halley, Edmond (1656–1742), 252

Halley’s Comet, 252

Hals, Frans (1580–1666), 151, 239

Hamid, Abdul II, Sultan of Turkey (hah-meed’)

(1842–1918), 657, 662, 695

Hamilton, Alexander (1755–1804), 376, 386

Handel, George Frederick (1685–1759): The Messiah, 311

Hanse league, 33

Hardenberg, Karl August von

(1750–1822), 436

Harper, John Lamberton, 982

Harvard College, 105

Harvey, William (1578–1657), 251; On the Movement of the Heart and Blood, 240

Hastings, Warren (1732–1818), 351

Hatt-i Humayun, 656

Haussman, baron, 533

Havel, Vaclav (1936–2011), 997

Hawaiian Islands, statehood, 926

Hawley-Smoot tariff (1930), 808

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Health. See also Medicine: eighteenth-century Europe, 272

Hébert, Jacques (1757–1794), 395

Hébertists (Angl. hay’-bair’-tists), 396 Hegel, Georg (hay-gl) (1770–1831), 471, 472,

524–525, 527, 545

Hegelian dialectic, 472

Hegira, 21 Heisenberg, Werner (1901–1976), 626

Helsinki accords, 969

Helvetic Body (Switzerland), 143

Helvétius, Claude Adrien (1715–1771), 313; On Man, 313; On the Mind, 313

Hemingway, Ernest (1899–1961), 810

Henry VII, King of England (1485–1509), 74, 116

Henry VIII, King of England (1509–1547), 88

Henry II, King of France (1547–1559), 134

Henry III, King of France (1574–1589), 134, 136

Henry IV, King of France (Henry of Navarre)

(1589–1610), 40, 135, 137

Herder, J. G. (1744–1803), 433, 434; Ideas on the Philosophy of the History of Mankind, 433

Hereditary subjection, 196

Herodotus (484–425 B.C.), 12

Herriot, Édouard (air-y-o’) (1872–1957), 789, 816

Herzegovina. See Bosnia and Herzegovina Herzen, Alexander (hairt’-sen) (1812–1870), 562

Herzl, Theodor (her-tzl) (1860–1904), 635, 636

High Commission (England), 162

Hildebrand (Pope Gregory VII) (1073–1085), 40

Hilliard, Nathan, 90

Himmler, Heinrich (1900–1945), 872, 906

Hindenburg, Paul von (1847–1934), 831

Hindus: and British colonialism, 673–675; and

partition of India, 928–929; and Seven Years’

War, 303; twentieth century, 1052

Hiroshima, 873, 875, 884, 1038

Historical scholarship, 254–257; Age of Enlight-

enment, 318; Annales school, 1044; and Bib- lical criticism, 257–259

Hitler, Adolf (1889–1945), 215–216, 785, 817,

906; anti-Semitism, 827, 829, 830; early

career, 828, 829; early life, 827–828; Mein Kampf, 829, 845; named Chancellor, 831; quits League of Nations, 845; suicide, 871;

violates Locarno treaties, 846; violates Treaty

of Versailles, 846

HIV/AIDS. See AIDS (acquired immuno- defi ciency syndrome)

Hobbes, Thomas (1588–1679), 262–263; Levia- than, 263

Hobsbawm, Eric, 982

Hobson, J. A. (1858–1940), 649

Ho Chi Minh (ho chee min) (1890–1969), 727,

935, 965, 1055

Hogarth, William (1697–1764), 270, 271; Gin Lane, 270, 271

Hohenheim (Paracelsus) (?1490–1541), 71

Hohenzollerns (Angl. ho-hn-zoll-rn), 198, 212; and Franco-Prussian War, 550; and Seven Years’

War, 299; territorial acquisitions, 212

Holland, 127–129. See also Dutch Republic; Netherlands

Hollande, François (1954 –), 1027

Holocaust, 871–874; maps, 870, 892; survivors, in

Palestine, 954

Holy Alliance, 445, 480, 486

Holy Roman Empire, 30, 83, 124, 138–139; after

1648, 196–200; after the Peace of Westphalia,

187; boundaries of, 196–199; decline of, 195,

415; dissolution of, 143; proclaimed, 39;

Renaissance, 76–77

Holy Synod, Russian Orthodox Church, 224, 227

Homan’s globe, 255

Homer: Iliad, 11; Odyssey, 11 Homo erectus, 1 Homo sapiens, 1 Honecker, Erich (1912–1994), 994

Hong Kong, 926

Hoover, Herbert (1874–1964), 806

“Horizontal” integration, 593

Horthy, Admiral Miklós (Angl. hor’-thee) (1868–1957), 782

House of Commons, 161, 173, 193, 287, 346, 348;

representation in, 492–493, 601–602

House of Lords, 161, 193, 287, 602; changes in

twenty-fi rst century, 1025

Hubertusberg, Treaty of (Angl. hyoo-bur’-tus- burg), 306–308

Hudson Bay territory, 190, 285

Hugo, Victor (1802–1885), 461

Huguenots (Angl. hyoo’-ge-notts), 126, 134; Edict of Nantes, 137, 138; under Louis XIV, 185,

186; rebellion of, 138

Human behavior, study of, 1040

Human cloning, 1039

Human genome, 1039

Humanism, 61–65

Humanists, 63–64, 70–72

Humanitarianism, 320, 460, 475

Human nature, views of, 263–264

Human rights, 981; defi ning, 1059–1060;

Universal Declaration of (UN), 1059

Humans, origins of, 1

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Hume, David (1711–1776), 313, 315

Hundred Years’ War, 52

Hungarians, 27

Hungary, 206, 207; battle of Mohacs, 77; dual

monarchy, of Austria-Hungary, 554–555,

607; NATO membership, 1062; 1956 revolt,

961; under Ottoman Turks, 205, 207; post

WWI, 714, 728; post–WWI, 781, 782; resis-

tance, to Soviet rule, 923, 924, 994; Revolu-

tion of 1848, 509–511, 514–515; Second

World War, 858, 870, 881, 893; and War of

Austrian Succession, 296, 297

Huns, 20

Hunt, Lynn, 399

Huss, John (1369–1415), 54, 55

Hussein, Saddam (1937–2006), 1065, 1066

Hussites, 54

Huxley, T. H. (1825–1895), 622

Huyghens, Christian (Angl. high’-gnz) (1629– 1695), 151, 245

Hyderabad, India, 303

Hydrogen bomb, 897, 1038

Hyndman, H. M. (highnd-mn) (1842–1921), 615

Ibsen, Henrik (1828–1906), 627

ICBM (intercontinental ballistic missile), 961

Ice Age, 2

Iceland, and women’s rights, 1056

Ideals, Western, 570

Illuminati, 312

IMF (International Monetary Fund), 914

Immigration, 563–566, 579–583; Europe, 1023–

1024; post–WWII, 899–901; into various

countries (1850–1940), 580

Imperialism, 645–653; in Africa, 662–671; in

Asia, 671–678, 790–802; attitudes of, 638; in

China, 679–680; vs. colonialism, 645–646;

colonial wars, 647; as crusade, 652–653;

defi nition, 645, 791; demise of, post–WWII,

925–927, 936–937, 939–944; and the Indus-

trial Revolution, 645–647; motivations for,

648–652; neomercantilism, 648; opposition

to, 790–802; and politics, 650; rationales and

paradoxes of modern, 654–655; Russian, 650;

and socialism, 649–650; and the working

class, 651

Imports, and world economy, 916

Impressionism, 627–629

Incas, 103

India, 279, 351; anti-imperialism, 795–797, 799;

confl icts with Pakistan, 931; Congress Party,

928; economy, eighteenth century, 279;

economy, nineteenth century, 673–675; First

World War, 792; in the global economy, 929;

Great Britain in, 304, 308, 351–352, 646, 647,

673–675, 814; Great Moguls, 303, 646; inde-

pendence, 927–936; life expectancy, 571; par-

tition of, 928–929; religious divisions, 795,

796; rise in population, 1067; Second World

War, 928; Seven Years’ War, 304, 308; sub-

continent, 2000 (map), 931

Indian Mutiny (1857), 674

Indian National Congress, 675, 793

Indians, westernized, 675

Indians (Native Americans), 352

Indirect rule, 666

Individualism, 58–60, 460

Indochina, 934–936

Indo-Europeans, 11

Indonesia, 934–936

Inductive reasoning, 237–238

Indulgences, 80

Industrialism vs. capitalism, 450

Industrialization, zones of, 571–573

Industrial Revolution, 449–500, 583–586; Britain

before and after (map), 457; Germany, 584,

690; in Great Britain, 431, 437, 453–458; and

imperialism, 645–647; India and, 673; and

iron production, 496, 584; labor market, 498;

new (second), 583–584; paternalism, 466;

Russia, 737; social consequences, 455–458,

460; and social mobility, 450–451; and tech-

nology, 451, 454–455, 583–584; textile indus-

try, 454–458; transportation and, 455; United

States, 566; women and, 459; working condi-

tions, 455–458, 493–494, 526, 527, 601

Industrial society, organization of, 884–885

Industrial unionism, 613

Infant mortality, 571

Infl ation, price, 109, 118

Infl uenza epidemic of 1918, 713

Information economy, 1033, 1034

Inheritance laws, 576

Innocent III, Pope (1198–1216), 41

Innocent VIII, Pope (1488–1492), 55

Innocent XI, Pope (1676–1689), 207

Inquisition, Papal (Roman), 97

Inquisition, Spanish, 76, 97, 422

Instrument of Government (England), 165

Insurance industry, 585–586

Intellectualism, opponents of, 640–642

Intelligentsia, Russian

(Angl. in-tell-i-jent’-si-a), 739 Intercontinental ballistic missile (ICBM), 961

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International Congo Association, 663, 664

International Council of Women, 618

International Monetary Fund (IMF), 914

International Security Assistance Force

(ISAF), 1065

International Working Men’s Association (First

International), 615

Internet, 1034

Interrogation of the Jews (painting, unknown artist), 78

Intolerable Acts, 353–355

Invisible exports, 586

Ionesco, Eugène (1909–1994), 1048

IRA (Irish Republican Army), 1025

Iran: nuclear weapons, 1062; revolution in, 956–

957; and Soviet Union, post–WWII, 889

Iraq, 947; First World War, 707; Persian Gulf

War, 1063; post–WWI, 728; prisoner abuse,

by U.S. forces, 1066; second war in, 1069;

United States invasion and war, 1066; weap-

ons of mass destruction, 1065

Ireland: and American Revolution, 351; English

rule, 91, 158, 163, 171, 350–351, 602–604,

815; home rule, 602; independence, 815;

“penal code” for, 172; potato famine of

1845–1849, 582

Irish Republican Army (IRA), 1025

Iron Age, 11

Iron curtain, 888, 889, 961

Iron production, 496, 583

Isabella of Castile (1474–1504), 75, 102

Islam, 21, 75, 252, 653, 655, 947–948; women

and, 955, 956

Islamic fundamentalism. See also Arabic world; Moriscos: in Afghanistan, 947; in Iran, 953;

spread of, 1052; terrorism and, 1063, 1064

Islamic identity, 947

Islamic Republic of Pakistan. See Pakistan Israel: after era of the British mandate (map), 954;

Arab-Israeli wars, 950, 951–952, 970; Arab

opposition to state of, 947–948; creation of,

950–951; Jewish support for, 1051; Law of

Return, 950

Israel and adjoining regions (map), 954

Isvolsky, Alexander (iz-vols’-skee)

(1856–1919), 695

Italia irredenta, 543, 822 Italian War of 1859, 542

Italy: African colonies, 847, 860; annexation of

Rome, 634; Christian Democrats, 911, 1021;

and the Church, 542, 544; Communist Party,

902, 911, 1022; as constitutional monarchy,

607; Crimean War, 538, 539, 541; in Euro-

pean Coal and Steel Community, 915; First

and French Revolution, 482; First World War,

690, 706, 712; Florence, 57–58, 63; medi-

eval, 33, 41; nationalism, 539; population

decline, 1068–1069; population growth, 575;

post–WWI, 728, 780, 822–825; reconstruc-

tion, post–WWII, 911–912; Renaissance,

56–70, 234; Revolution of 1848, 509–511,

513–515; ruled by Austrian Empire, 510–511;

Second World War, 881, 882; socialism, 976;

Socialist Party, 1021; unifi cation of, 542–543;

women’s rights, 609

Italy, Fascist, 821–827; and Catholic Church, 825;

Depression era, 825–827; March on Rome,

823, 824

Ivan III, Duke of Muscovy (1462–1505), 218

Ivan the Terrible, Tsar of Russia (1547–1584),

220, 221

Jacobites, 288

Jakarta (Batavia), 155

Jamaica, 159, 164

James I, King of England (1603–1625),

160–161

James II, King of England (1685–1688), 167, 168,

170–171, 266; allies with Louis XIV, 171;

loses throne to William of Orange, 168, 170;

returns to Catholicism, 168

James III (the Pretender), 288

Jamestown settlement, 159

James VI, King of Scotland (1566–1625), 160

Janisaries, 203

Jansenism, 185

Japan: atomic bomb, 873, 875; attacks Pearl Har-

bor, 861; Dutch Republic in, 155; First World

War, 708; industrialization, 719, 801; invades

China, 848, 849–850; militarism, 790; mod-

ernization of, 647; occupation of, post–WWII,

895; peace agreement, 896; post-WWII, 895;

Russo-Japanese neutrality, 861; Russo-Japa-

nese War, 685–687, 709, 879; Second World

War, 860–861, 879, 881; Western contact,

220; as world power, 959, 979

Japanese Americans, interned, 862

Japanese imperialism, 681; and Russo-Japanese

War, 685–687

Jaruzelski, Wojciech (1923–), 993

Jaurès, Jean (zho-ress’) (1859–1914), 615, 617

Jefferson, Thomas (1743–1826), 355, 386

Jehan, Shah (1628–1658), 303

Jerusalem, 950

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Jesuits, 96–97, 847; missionary work, 252; and

natural law, 262

Jesus Christ, birth of, 16

Jews, Judaism, 16, 46. See also Hitler, Adolf; Holocaust; Israel; Marranos; Palestine;

Zionism; anti-Semitism, 53, 75, 635, 814; civil

rights for, 331, 344; in Dutch Republic, 151,

153, 155; migration to Palestine, 814; migra-

tion to Poland, 202; in Nazi Germany, 831–

833, 839; nineteenth century, 635; in Ottoman

Empire, 204–205, 653; Russian pogroms,

737; Sephardic, 75; in Soviet Union, 771, 989;

twentieth century, 1051; twenty-fi rst century,

1051; and Vichy France, 855

Jinnah, Muhammad Ali (1876–1948), 927, 929

Joan of Arc (1412–1431), 52

Joffre, Joseph (1852-1931), 701

John of Leyden (1509–1536), 82, 83

John Paul I, Pope (1978), 1050

John Paul II, Pope (1978–2005), 993, 1050–1051

Johnson, Lyndon B. (1908–1973), 965

Johnson, Samuel (1709–1784), 315

John XXIII, Pope (1959–1963): Pacem in Terris, 1049

Jones, Ernest (1819–1869), 505

Jordan, 947, 951; West Bank, 951

Jordan River, 951

Joseph II, Holy Roman Emperor (1765–1790),

296, 330–332

Josephine, Empress of France (1804–1809),

419, 421

Jospin, Lionel (jus-piN’) (1937–), 975, 1027

Joyce, James (1882–1941), 1047; Ulysses, 810 Julian calendar, 257

Julius II, Pope (1503–1513), 55

July Monarchy, 489, 502

July Revolution, 488–489

June Days, 505–506

Junkers (joong’-krz), 123, 216, 217, 332, 333, 437;

and unifi cation of Germany, 516, 546, 605

Justifi cation by faith, 80

Jutland, battle of, 705

Kádar, Jánós (kay-dare) (1912–1989), 923, 994

Kaiser, etymology of, 221

Kandinsky, Vasily (1866–1944), 629

Kapp Putsch of 1920 (khapp pootsh), 828

Karajich, Vuk (ka-rah-jich, vook) (1787–1864),

474; Popular Songs and Epics of the Serbs, 474

Kashmir, 929

Kautsky, Karl (kowts-kee) (1854–1938), 617, 775

Kay, John (1704–1764), 454

Kazakhstan, 1003, 1006

Kellogg, Frank B. (1856–1937), 790

Kemal, Mustapha (ke-mahl’, muss-ta-fuh)

(1881–1938), 793

Kempis, Thomas à (1370–1471), 72

Kennan, George (1904–2005), 1005

Kennedy, John F. (1917–1963), 961, 962,

964–965, 1040

Kenya, 942

Kenyatta, Jomo (?1893–1978), 942

Kepler, Johannes (1571–1630), 242–243

Kerensky, Alexander (ke-rens’-kee) (1881–1970),

751–752

Keynes, John Maynard (kaynz) (1883–1946):

General Theory of Employment, Interest, and Money, 814

Keynesian economics, 972

KGB (Soviet secret police), 774, 918, 989; and

attempted coup, 1002–1003

Khomeini, Ayatollah Rohollah (1900–1989), 953

Khruschev, Nikita S. (kroosh’-tchoff) (1894–

1971), 919–921, 923, 960, 962, 964–965;

Cuban missle crisis and, 921

Kierkegaard, Søren (1813–1855), 1042, 1049

Kikiyu people, East Africa, 942

Kingdom of the Serbs, Croats, and Slovenes. See Yugoslavia

King George’s War, 294

Kings in medieval Europe, 30–31, 51

Kipling, Rudyard (1865–1936): White Man’s Burden, 653

Kirov, Serge (1888–1934), 773

Kissinger, Henry (1923–), 968

Kitchener, Herbert (1850-1916), 669

Knights, 46, 212

Knowledge, and wealth, 267–268

Kohl, Helmut (1930–), 910, 977, 978, 996, 1026

Koonz, Claudia, 834

Köprülu family, 205

Korean War, 895–897

Kosciusko, Thaddeus (Angl. kosky-os’-ko) (1747–1817), 340, 432

Kosovo (kus’-so-’vo), 1015

Kossuth, Louis (ku-sooth’) (1802–1894), 510, 513

Kostunica, Vojislav (1944–), 1016

Kristallnacht, 832 Kruger, Paul (1825–1904), 669

Kulturkampf (kool-toor’-kahmpf), 605 Kun, Béla (koon’, bay-luh) (1886–1939), 782

Kurds, 1066

Kuwait, 1063

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IndexI22

Kyoto agreement, 1072

Kyrgyzstan, 1003

Labor, organized, 593, 639. See also Labor strikes; Labor unions

Laborde, Jean Joseph (la-bord’)

(1724–1794), 284

Labor market, 498

Labor productivity rates, 571, 617

Labor strikes, 382, 532, 613–614; coal

miners, 813; France, 818, 820; Russian

Revolution, 746

Labor unions, 34–35, 381–382, 499, 529–530; and

communism, 776; Depression era, 812–814;

Great Britain, 601, 613, 614; industrial union-

ism, 613; legalized, 601, 613; Nazi Germany,

833; nineteenth century, 498, 529–530, 532,

601, 613–616; Polish Solidarity, 992–994;

post–WWI, 812–814, 820; prohibition, 613;

and socialism, 612–616; unskilled, 613

Labour Party, Great Britain, 601, 613, 614, 812,

813, 902–903, 973, 974

Lafayette, Marquis de (la-fay-et’) (1757–1834),

374, 387, 488

La Fontaine, Jean de (la foN-tenn’)

(1621–1695), 174

Lagrange, Joseph-Louis (la-graNzh’)

(1736–1813), 394

Laissez-faire economics (less-say fair’), 381,

458–460, 591, 601, 602; and liberalism, 638,

640, 642; working-class view, 612

Lamarck, Jean-Baptiste de Monet de (la-mark’)

(1744–1829), 394

Lamartine, Alphonse (la-mar-teen’) (1790–1869),

503, 506

Land rights. See also Feudalism: eminent property, 366–367, 375; France, 366–368; private prop-

erty, 166, 173, 263, 381, 452

Langland, William (1332–1386): Piers Plowman, 53

Language: and dialect, 268–269; national vs.

regional, 268–269; written, 269

Languages. See also Books, popular; Literature: in Europe, 473; Indo-European, 11; Romance,

14; written, 11, 13, 27, 61–65

Laos, 934, 967

La Rochefoucauld, Duke of (la rush-foo-co’)

(1613–1680), 174

Las Casas, Bartolomé de (1484-1566), 105

Lassalle, Ferdinand (la-sall’) (1825–1864), 548,

606, 612

Lateran accord, 825

Latin, use of, 62–63

Latin America, 76, 104–108, 387; economic assis-

tance, 962; independence, 483–486; popula-

tion growth, 1068

Latin Christendom, 23

La Tour, Maurice-Quintin de (1704–1788), 316

Latvia, 781, 921, 990

Laval, Pierre (1883–1945), 855, 903

Lavater, J. C. (1741–1801), 311

Lavoisier, Antoine-Laurent (la-vwah-zuyay’)

(1743–1794), 394

Law, John (1671–1729), 286, 289, 290, 370

Law of nations, 262

Law of War and Peace (Grotius), 262 Lawrence, Saint (? –258), 125

Lawrence, T. E. (1888–1935), 707

Lay investiture, 40

Lay religion, 71–72

League of Arab States (Arab League), 947, 952

League of Augsburg, war of, 187

League of Nations, 726, 733, 787, 789, 790, 814,

845, 947; expels Soviet Union, 853; Germany

quits, 845; ineffectiveness, 847; Soviet Union

joins, 845

League of Schmalkald, 84

League of Women Voters, 781

Lebanon, 947

Lebrun, Marquis de (luh-bruN’) (1739–1824), 407

Le Chapelier, Act of 1791 (lu sha-pe-lyay’), 613

Ledru-Rollin, Alexandre (1807–1874), 506

Leeuwenhoek, Antony van (lay-vn-hook) (1632–

1723), 151, 240

Legal system: England, seventeenth century, 161–

162, 254; evidentiary laws, 254; international

law, 261–262; Middle Ages, 33–34, 36–38,

51–52; Napoleonic Codes, 409–410; Renais-

sance, 74–76; Roman Empire, 15–16; use of

torture, 254

Leibniz, Gottfried Wilhelm (1646–1716), 197, 240

Lemonnier, Anicet Charles Gabriel

(1743–1824), 315

Le Nain, Louis (?1593–1648), 191

Lend-Lease Act, 858, 866

Lenin, Vladimir Ilyich (1870–1924), 617, 710,

741, 743–744, 752–754; death, 764; Imperial- ism, the Highest Stage of World Capitalism, 649; on nationalism, 774; and Third Interna-

tional, 775–778

Leningrad, 227, 765, 1002

Leninism. See Bolsheviks, Bolshevism Leonardo da Vinci (1452–1519), 61, 234–235

Leopold I, King of Belgium (1831–1865), 491

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Index I23

Leopold II, Holy Roman Emperor (1790–1792),

332, 386, 412

Leopold II, King of Belgium (1865–1909),

663, 664

Leo X, Pope (1513–1521), 55, 75, 80

Leo XIII, Pope (1878–1903), 598; Rerum Novarum, 635

Le Pen, Jean-Marie (1928–), 975, 1023, 1027

Lesbian partnerships, 1057

Lespinasse, Julie de (1732–1776), 314

Levellers, 164

Levi, Primo (1919–1987), 872–873

Lévi-Strauss, Claude (1908–2009), 1040

Liberalism, 460, 461, 487–488; and feminism,

636–638; freedom of movement and, 582;

and free trade, 638; and laissezfaire econom-

ics, 642; opponents of, 613; and religion,

637–638; and revolution, 487–495; waning

of, 636–642; and the welfare state, 638–639

Liberals, classical, 461, 463–464

Liberia, 665, 936

Liberum veto (lee’-b-rom vee’-to), 202 Libraries, early, 256

Libya, 947; independence, 938; Second World

War, 860

Liebknecht, Karl (leeb-knekt) (1871–1919), 785

Liège (map), 129

Life, legal defi nitions of, 1039

Life expectancy, 571

Lilburne, John (1614–1657), 164

List, Friedrich (1789–1846): National System of Political Economy, 472, 638

Literacy, 121, 312, 314–315, 571, 1056

Literary critical methods. See Critical methods, literary

Literature: Age of Enlightenment, 312–315, 320;

Depression era, 808–810; Dutch Republic,

151; eighteenth-century Europe, 273; English,

159–160; German, 432; modern, 1047–1048;

nineteenth century, 627; popular books, 273;

Renaissance, 61–65, 71–72; Russian, 737,

919; seventeenth century, 174; Soviet Union

(U.S.S.R), 771; Spanish, 124–125; witchcraft

and magic in, 273

Lithuania, 202, 728, 781, 921, 990

Little Entente, 790, 850

Little Russians, 220

Liverpool and Manchester Railway, 455

Living standards, and culture, 269–270

Livingstone, David (1813–1873), 663

Lloyd George, David (1863–1945), 601, 725,

726, 729, 732

Lloyds of London, 586

Locarno treaties, 789; Hitler violates, 846

Locke, John (1632–1704), 173, 259, 288, 317,

319, 358, 636; defense of constitutionalism,

263–265; Essay Concerning the Human Understanding, 259; Letter of Toleration, 259; portrait, 265; Reasonableness of Chris- tianity, 259; Two Treatises of Government, 259, 264

Locomotive, steam, 456

Logarithms, 240

Lollards, 53–54

London Stock Exchange, 917

Long March, the, 801, 802

Long Parliament, 162, 163

Lope de Vega (1562–1635), 124

Lorrain, Claude (lo-riN’) (1600–1682), 174

Lorraine, 187; and Treaty of Versailles, 726

Lorraine, Cardinal of, 135

Los Alamos, New Mexico, 1038

Louis Philippe (Duke of Orleans) (King of the

French 1830–1848), 489, 502, 503

Louis XI, King of France (1461–1483), 75

Louis XIII, King of France (1610–1643), 138

Louis XIV, King of France (1643–1715), 147–

149, 173–186; and absolutism, 176, 178–179;

alliance with Ottoman Turks, 206; allies with

Charles II, 166; allies with James II, 171;

ambitions of, 148–150; government of, 179–

181; invades Dutch Republic, 157; invades

Spanish Netherlands, 157; as personifi cation

of state, 178; religious intolerance, 185; visits

Royal Academy of Sciences, 249; and War

of Spanish Succession, 188–189; wars of,

186–193

Louis XV, King of France (1715–1774), 286;

enlightened despotism, 320, 324–326

Louis XVI, King of France (1774–1774), 299,

328–330; attempts escape, 380; executed,

390; and the French Revolution, 369, 370–

373, 380, 386; imprisoned, 387

Louis XVIII of France (1814–1824), 401, 441,

444, 476, 481

L’Ouverture, Toussaint (?1743–1803), 395,

413, 414

Love, concept of, 17

Low Countries, 129

Loyola, Ignatius, Saint (1491–1556): Spiritual Exercises, 95–96

Ludendorff, Erich (1865–1937), 715, 829

Luftwaffe, 853 Luisitania (British ship), 705

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IndexI24

Lumumba, Patrice (1925–1961), 945

Luther, Katherina (von Bora) (1499–1552), 81

Luther, Martin (1483–1546), 70, 80–85

Lutheranism, 80–85, 139; and ecumenical

movement, 1048

Luxembourg: post–WWII, 914; Second

World War, 854

Luxemburg, Rosa (1871–1919), 785

Lvov, Prince (l-vof’) (1861–1925), 751,

752–753

Maasai peoples, 942

Maastricht treaty, 1028, 1030

Mabillon, Jean (ma-bee-yoN’) (1632–1707): On Diplomatics, 255

Macao, 926

MacArthur, Douglas (1880–1964), 895–897

Macaulay, T. B. (1800–1859), 674

MacDonald, Ramsay (1866–1937), 789, 813, 814

Macedonia, 1012

Machiavelli, Niccolò (ma-kee-a-vell’-lee) (1469–

1527), 68, 69; Prince, The, 68, 260; The Prince, 69

Mack, Phyllis, 169

MacMahon, Marshal (mak-ma-oN’)

(1808–1893), 596

Madeleine (temple), 430

Magellan, Ferdinand (1480–1521), 104

Maghreb, 937

Magic, magicians: Age of Enlightenment,

311–312; eighteenth-century Europe, 273; in

literature, 273

Maginot Line (ma-zhee-no’), 844, 854, 855

Magna Carta, 36

Magyars, 27, 297, 473, 474, 514–515, 554

Mahan, Alfred Thayer (1840–1914), 691

Major, John (1943-), 974

Malaya, 861

Malaysia, 931–933

Malcolm X (1925–1965), 1055

Malesherbes, Guillaume-Chrétien de Lamoignon

de (1721-1794), 313

Maliki, Nouri al- Assad, (1950-), 1066

Malpighi, Marcello (mal-pee’-ghee)

(1628–1694), 240

Malthus, Thomas R. (1766–1834), 458

Manchester, England, 455, 478

Manchester School, 458, 496, 498

Manchu dynasty, 679, 680

Manchuria, 681, 685

Manhattan Island, 155, 157

Manila Galleons, 108

Mann, Thomas (1875–1955): The Magic Mountain, 723

Manners, social: eighteenth-century Europe,

272–273; Renaissance, 65–67

Mao Zedong (mow, as in how, tse-dong’)

(1893–1976), 801, 802, 895, 1055

Mapmaking, 2–3, 71

Marchand, J. B., 668, 669

March Laws, 510

Marconi, Guglielmo (1874–1937), 583

Marcuse, Herbert (mar-koo-ze) (1898–1979), 1055

Mardi Gras, eighteenth-century Europe, 275

Maria Theresa of Austria (ma-ree’-a te-ress’-a)

(1717–1780), 210, 218, 295–296, 298; and

enlightened despotism, 325, 329, 330; Schön-

brunn Palace, 300

Marie Antoinette (1755–1793), 299, 320, 332,

386, 387, 393

Market economy, 498. See also Capitalism; Laissez-faire economics

Marlowe, Christopher (1564–1593), 71

Marne, battle of, 701–702

Marranos, 76 Marriage: as civil contract, 377; and divorce, 377;

eighteenth-century Europe, 283; Protestant

ideal, 92; Renaissance, 67; same-sex, 1057

Marseillaise, The (mar-say-yez’) (song), 389 Marshall, George C. (1880–1959), 861, 890, 898

Marshall Plan, 890, 898

Martinique (mar-ti-neek’), 303, 307

Martin V, Pope (1368–1431), 55

Marx, Karl (1818–1883), 118, 467, 523–529, 562,

612, 614–616; Capital (Kapital), 524, 526, 614–615; Communist Manifesto, 467, 524, 526, 614

Marxism, 460, 524–529, 617, 742. See also Lenin, Vladimir Ilyich; Marx, Karl; Socialism; appli-

cation of, 765; and class war, 640, 774; and

the individual, 836; revisionist, 785; Russian,

710, 740–742

Mary I, Queen of England (1553–1558), 89

Mary II, Queen of England (1689–1694), 168, 170

Maryland, 159

Mary Queen of Scots (Mary Stuart) (1542–1568),

128, 157, 170–171

Masons (Freemasons), 312, 470

Massachusetts: abolishes slavery, 356; witch

trials, 235

Material culture, 269–270

Materialism, 522–523

Mathematics, 22; advances in, 240; and astron-

omy, 240, 242–245; and chronology, 257;

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Russian, 221; and the scientifi c method, 238,

240; and technological advances, 247–248

Mathmatics, 13

Matta Echaurren, Roberto Sebastian (1911–2002),

1045; Invasion of the Night, 1045 Matteotti, Giacomo (1885–1924), 825

Maupeou, René Nicolas Charles Augustin de

(1714–1792), 370

Maupeou parlements (mo-poo’), 328, 330

Mauritania, 936

Maximilian (Austrian Archduke) (1832–1867), 550

Maximilian I, Emperor of Holy Roman Empire

(1493–1519), 76

Max of Baden, Prince (1876–1929), 715

Mayakovsky, Vladimir (1893–1930), 764

Mazarin, Cardinal (ma-za-riN’) (1602–1661),

176–178

Mazzini, Joseph (mats-zee’-nee) (1805–1872),

471, 507, 514, 515, 539, 541, 615; Duties of Man, 471

Mecca, 21

Medical technology, 1036–1037, 1039–1040

Medici, Catherine de’ (med-i-chee) (1519–1589),

134, 135, 270

Medici, Lorenzo de’ (the Magnifi cent), 60

Medici, Marie de’ (1573–1642), 137, 138

Medici family, 57–58, 110

Medicine, 70, 71; eighteenth-century Europe, 272,

273; nineteenth century, 584; twentieth cen-

tury, 1036–1037

Mediterranean Sea, 6; Great Britain in, 191, 192;

and Philip II of Spain, 124, 130; pirates,

piracy, 130, 132, 481; port of Trieste, 207

Mediterranean World, A.D. 400, 25, 26

Medvedev, Dmitry (1965-), 1010, 1063

Meitner, Lise (1878–1968), 1038

Mendel, Gregor (1822–1884), 623

Mendês-France, Pierre (maN-dez)

(1907–1982), 904

Mennonites, 77, 155

Mensheviks, Menshevism, 617, 710, 742

Mercantilism, 115–117; Russia, under Peter the

Great, 227

Mercantilist regulations, and Seven

Years’ War, 302

Mercenaries, 140–141, 146; eighteenth century,

294; Russian army, 226; sepoys, 305

Merchant class, 32–36

Merkel, Angela (1954–), 1026, 1027, 1029, 1056

Mesmer, F. A. (1734–1815), 311

Mestizos, 105 Methodists, 311

Metternich, Clemens von (mett’-ter-nick) (1773–

1859), 418, 475, 478, 482, 509, 510

Mexico, 105, 484; independence, 566

Mickiewicz, Adam (1789–1855), 474, 477

Microscope: invented, 151; use of, 240

Middle Ages, 9, 19–48; agriculture, 29–30; Cru-

sades, 45–48; early, 19–28; feudalism, 30–31,

35; guild system, 34–35; high, 29–48; legal

system, 36–38; population growth, 29–36;

taxation, 36; timespan of, 10; towns, 32–36;

trade, 31–32

Middle class, 118–119. See also Bourgeosie; eighteenth-century Europe, 283

Middle East, 11. See also Islamic fundamentalism; Palestine; individual countries; Christian-

ity, 653; Cold War, 952; confl icts, and the

West, 1019–1020; democracy in, 1067; First

World War, 707–708, 792; Great Britain in,

707–708, 814, 889; imperialism in, 678; oil

production, 952, 970; post–WWI, 728; post–

WWII, 889

Midhat Pasha (1822–1884), 656, 657

Migration, from Europe, 579–583

Milan, 188, 189

Milan Decree of 1807, 428

Militarism: defi nition, 211; of Prussia, 213–218

Military forces. See also Armies; Weaponry: cost of maintaining, 369; draft, 712, 717; technol-

ogy and, 210

Mill, John Stuart (1806–1873), 463, 636, 637; The Subjection of Women, 468

Miller, Christopher L., 654

Millerand, Alexandre (meel-raN’)

(1859–1943), 617

Millet, Jean-Francois (1814–1875), 577; The Gleaners, 577

Milosevic, Slobodan (mee-lah’-sa-vitch)

(1941–2006), 1014, 1016, 1017

Milton, John (1608–1674), 160, 242; Paradise Lost, 160; Paradise Regained, 160

Mines Act of 1842, 499

Mining: coal, 454; coal miners’ strikes, 813; of

precious metals, 105, 109, 124

Minorca, 189, 191, 285

Miranda, Francisco de (1750-1816), 387

Mir (meer), 738, 739; dissolution of, 748 Mississippi bubble, 289

Mississippi Company, 289–290

Mitterrand, François (mee-te-raN) (1916–1996),

974–975, 1027

Mobutu, Joseph Désiré (Mobuto Sese Seko) (mo-

bootoo) (1930–1997), 945

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Modern, modernity, 10

Modernist art, 810

Mogul Empire, 303, 646

Moldavia, 205, 538

Moldova, 1003

Molecular biology, 1039

Molière (mull-yair’) (1622–1673), 174, 175

Moltke, Helmuth von (1848–1916), 701

Monarchies, 36–38. See also Enlightened despo- tism; and absolutism, 137; and centralization

of power, 349, 369; English, 74–76; French,

75, 133; new, 113, 133; and the Protestant

Reformation, 83–85; Renaissance, 70–71,

74–77; and sovereignty, 136

Monarchism, 460

Monasteries, 24, 39

Monet, Claude (1840–1926), 572, 628, 629

Monetary exchanges, Depression era, 808

Money, 51, 155. See also Currency; Gold standard Mongols, 49

Monnet, Jean (1888–1979), 905, 914, 915

Monroe, James (1758–1831), 485

Monroe, Marilyn (1926–1962), 1048

Monroe Doctrine, 485–486

Montagnards, 392, 393

Montaigne, Michel de (moN-tenn’) (1533–1592),

235, 251

Montenegro, 659, 1012, 1015

Montesquieu (moN-tes-kyuh’) (1689–1755), 314,

315–316, 323–324; The Spirit of Laws, 316 Moore, Henry (1898–1986), 1047

Moors, 76

Moral and Scientifi c Union (Tugendbund), 435

Moravia, 206

Moravian Brothers, 77

More, Sir Thomas (1478–1535), 70; Utopia, 88 Moreelse, Willem (1620–1666), 241

Moriscos, 76, 125, 126, 132

Morisot, Berthe (1841–1895): Little Girl Reading, 628–630

Morocco, 936; First World War, 692;

independence, 938

Moscow, 226

Mostaert, Jan, 103

Mountebanks, 274

Movies, invented, 583

Mozambique, 946

Muhammad (c. 570–c. 632), 16, 21

Munich Crisis, 850–852

Municipal Corporations Act (1835), 493

Murillo, Bartolome (moo-reel’-yo)

(1617–1683), 125

Muscovy, Muscovites, 203, 218, 220

Music, 197; Age of Enlightenment, 311; England,

seventeenth century, 160; Russian, 737

Muslim faith. See Islam Muslim lands, in Eastern Europe, 196, 653,

655–656

Muslim League, India, 927

Muslims. See also Islam; Moriscos; Pakistan: in the Balkans, 695; in Bosnia, 1014; in India,

303, 675, 927–929; North Africa, 937; Sunni

vs. Shiite, 947; Wahabi sect, 673

Mussadegh, Muhammed (mo-sa-deg)

(1880–1967), 953

Mussolini, Benito (moo-so-lee’-nee, be-nee’-to)

(1883–1945), 780, 811, 824; attacks France,

856; falls from power, 866; invades Africa,

847, 860; invades Greece, 856; political phi-

losophy, 825, 827; seizes power, 821, 823

Myanmar (Burma), 928, 929–931

Mysticism, 71–72

Mythology, 13

Nagasaki, Japan (na-ga-sah’-kee), 873, 1038

Nagy, Imre (najh) (1896–1958), 923, 924, 994

Nanking, Treaty of, 680

Napier, John (nay’-pur) (1550–1617), 240

Naples, 189, 482

Napoleon I (Napoleon Bonaparte), Emperor of

the French (1804–1814), 401, 402, 406. See also Napoleonic Codes; Napoleonic Empire; Napoleonic Europe; abdicates, 440; and the

Church, 408–410; exiled, 441; genius of, 406,

407; and hereditary succession, 419–420;

invades Russia, 438–439; and Josephine, 419,

421; overthrown, 439–441; takes control, 405;

and taxation, 410; at Waterloo, 444

Napoleon III (Louis Napoleon Bonaparte),

Emperor of the French (1852–1870),

506–508, 530–531, 550, 551; Crimean War,

542; economic developments, 532–533, 613;

Extinction of Poverty, 508; Napoleonic Ideas,

508; opposition to, 532

Napoleonic Codes, 409–410, 421–422,

424, 576

Napoleonic Empire, 420–425, 431–432; and

Bonaparte family, 420; Grand Army, 438;

and Great Britain, 425–431; organization, of

states, 420–421; overthrow, 439–441; religion

and, 422, 424; resistance, 431–432

Napoleonic Europe: anti-British sentiments,

425–427; coalitions, 412, 413–414; Continen-

tal System, 416–418; 1810 (map), 422, 423;

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Index I27

Germany (map), 425; stages, of French occu-

pation, 421–422

Napoleonic Legend, 507–508

Napoleonic wars, 230, 333

Nasser, Gamal Abdul- (1918–1970), 947, 951

National American Woman Suffrage

Association, 618

National Assembly, France, 370–371, 594

Nationalism, 294, 460; Africa, 936–937; anti-

French, 431–432; and anti-Semitism,

635–636; Asian, 685–687, 793; Chinese,

680, 798; vs. class solidarity, 771; Eastern

Europe, 473–474, 513, 694; East Indian, 673;

economic, 638, 808; Egyptian, 662; German,

432–436, 477–478, 509, 544, 545; Italy, 539;

Jewish, 635–636; Magyars, 514–515; and the

nation-state, 536–537, 544–547; and racism,

837–838; repression of, 514–515; and revo-

lution, 320, 367, 382–383; roots of modern

movement, 540–541; and Rousseau, 320; and

secret societies, 470; Soviet Union (U.S.S.R),

758, 759; and totalitarianism, 836; United

States, 565; Western Europe, 470, 471; Yugo-

slavia, 1011–1012

Nationalist movements, 990

National Security Council (U.S.), 890

National sovereignty, and the Cold War, 884–885

National Workshops, 503, 505

Nation building, 544–545

Nation-states, 535–537; characteristics of,

536–537

Native Americans, 352, 573

NATO (North Atlantic Treaty Organization), 894,

897, 960, 1015, 1062; in Bosnia, 1015, 1016;

and the European Union (EU), 1031; France

withdraws, 961; Helsinki accords, 969; mem-

bership, 1062; and post–U.S.S.R, 1062

Natural law, philosophy of, 250, 261–262, 434

Natural right. See Natural law, philosophy of Nature, 622

Naval blockade, 705

Naval blockade, First World War, 705

Navigation Act of 1651, 157, 164, 166

Nazi Germany, 831–833, 835, 839. See also Nazi Party; art, 1046; bombed, 863; collabora-

tors, 855, 856, 1012; dominates Europe,

856; “Final Solution,” 870; government, vs.

U.S.S.R, 835; invades Africa, 860; invades

Balkans, 858–859; invades Czechoslovakia,

852–853; invades France, 855–857; invades

Norway, 854; invades Poland, 854; invades

Soviet Union, 859, 861, 865–866; invades

Western Europe, 855–856; naval forces, 862,

863; Nazi-Soviet Pact, 853, 858; quits League

of Nations, 845; racism, 840; resistance move-

ments, 855, 867, 901; surrenders, 871; united

with Austria, 846, 850, 852; women in, 863

Nazi Party: Beer Hall Putsch, 828, 829; denazi- fi cation of West Germany, 907; neo-Nazis,

1023; origins, 828

Necker, Jacques (neck’-r, zhak)

(1732–1804), 370

Nehru, Jawaharlal (nay’-roo, ja-wah’-har-lal)

(1889–1964), 675, 796, 927–929

Nelson, Lord Horatio (1758–1805), 415

Neomercantilism, 648

Netherlands, 72, 126–128, 854. See also Dutch Republic; Antwerp, 127; as EU member,

1031; partition of, 131; under Philip II, 126,

127–128; post–WWII, 914; Protestant Refor-

mation, 127; revolt, 126–129; same-sex mar-

riage, 1057; Twelve Years’ Truce, 131; Union

of Utrecht, 129, 131

Netherlands Indies, 861. See also Indonesia Newcomen, Thomas (1663–1729), 248, 454

New Deal, 811–812

New England colonies, 159; slavery in, 280

Newfoundland, 190

New Guinea, 861

Ne Win, General, 931

New Industrial Revolution, 583–584

New Left, 1054

New Model Army, 163

Newton, Sir Isaac (1642–1727), 233, 240, 245,

246–247, 250–252, 317; Mathematical Principles of Natural Philosophy, 245

Newtonian system, 249

New Woman (journal), 468 New World. See also Americas: discovery of,

100–109; Dutch Republic in, 155; England in,

159–160; France in, 174

New York: England conquers, 159; settled, by

Dutch, 132

New York Stock Exchange, 805

New Zealand, 568, 579, 609, 815

Nicholas I, Tsar of Russia (1825–1855), 487,

490–491, 514, 538

Nicholas II, Pope (1058–1061), 40

Nicholas II, Tsar of Russia (1894–1917): abdica-

tion, 709, 750, 751; as antirevolutionary,

744–745; October Manifesto, 746; reforms of,

746, 748

Nicholas of Cusa (1401–1464), 71, 72

Nicholas V, Pope (1447–1455), 55

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IndexI28

Nietzsche, Friedrich (nee-chuh) (1844–1900), 627,

840, 1042

Nigeria, 942

Nightingale, Florence (1820–1910), 538, 539

Nimwegen, Treaty of (nigh’-me-gn), 158, 187

Nixon, Richard M. (1913–1994), 917, 920, 965,

968–970

Nkrumah, Kwame (en-kroo-muh) (1909–1972),

940–941

NKVD, 918

Nobility, 51, 52; Age of Democratic Revolution,

344; and Calvinism, 134, 137, 139; eighteenth

century, 283, 286–287; and the French Revolu-

tion, 365–366, 370–371, 386, 389; and Napo-

leonic Europe, 422; seventeenth century, 166

Nonconformists, 272

Non-Jurors, 287

Normans, 30–31

North Africa: geographical territory, 937; and

Ottoman Empire, 660, 661; religion and cul-

ture, 937; Second World War, 847, 860, 864

North Atlantic Treaty Organization (NATO). See NATO (North Atlantic Treaty Organization)

Northern Ireland, 815, 903, 1025

Northern War (1700–1721), 225–226

North German Confederation, 547–549

North Korea, 889, 895, 896, 1005; nuclear

weapons, 1062

Norway: democratic advances, 608, 609; Second

World War, 854

Nostradamus (1503–1566), 235

Nova Scotia (Acadia), 190, 285, 302

November Revolution, 744–749, 775

Nuclear physics, 1037–1038

Nuclear power plants, 1038

Nuclear weapons, 1038. See also Atomic bomb; arms race, 984–985, 1062; and the Cold War,

890, 897, 959–960, 969; European Atomic

Community, 915; nations in possession of,

984; Non-Proliferation Treaty, 1062; post–

Cold War, 1006; proliferation, 983–984;

testing, 983

Numbers, systems of, 221

Numismatics, 256

Nuremberg Trials, 906, 907

Nursing profession, 539

Nystadt, Treaty of (nU’-stah or Angl. nigh’-staht), 226

Oath of the Tennis Court, 371, 374

Obama, Barack (1961–), 1062–1063, 1066

October Manifesto, 746

October Revolution, 754

Offi ce for European Economic Cooperation

(OEEC), 898

Offshoring, of employment, 1021

Oil production: Middle East, 952, 970;

Nigeria, 942

Old Believers (in Russia), 223, 227, 335

Old Regime. See Bourbon kings Olivares, Count (1587–1645), 132

OPEC (Organization of Petroleum Exporting

Countries), 970

Open Door Policy, China, 682

Ophuls, Marcel (1927–): The Sorrow and the Pity, 903

Opium War of 1839–1841, 680

Oral history, 11

Orbis terrarum, 14

Ordeal, trial by, 23

Orlando, Vittorio Emanuele (1860–1952), 725,

726, 729

Orleans, Duke of (1747–1793), 286

Orwell, George (1903–1950), 810; Down and Out in Paris and London, 810; The Road to Wigan Pier, 810

Ostend Company, 285

Ostpolitik, 994 Ottoman Empire, 203–206. See also Turkish

Republic; anti-imperialism, 791–793; collapse

of, 536, 653–662, 729; commerce and trade,

205; Crimean War, 537–539, 656; decline

of, 195; defeated in the Balkans, 487–488;

defeated in Vienna, 206–207; disunity in, 655;

First World War, 694, 695, 705, 707–708,

792, 793; geographical boundaries, 196, 203–

206, 694–695, 947; map, 200; in the Mediter-

ranean, 125; military forces, 203; post–WWI,

729; religions of, 49–50, 653; Russo-Turkish

War of 1877–1878, 658–660

Oudry, Jean-Baptiste: M. Bachelier, director of the Lyons Farms, 292

Outsourcing, 1021

Owen, Robert (1771–1858), 466, 467, 613

Owen, Wilfred (1893–1918), 721

Oxenstierna (oks’-n-steer-nuh) (1583–1654), 142

Oxford University, 41, 90, 121, 166, 252

Pacifi c theater, World War II, 860–862, 873–875;

map, 869

Pacifi sm: defi nition, 844; of post–WWI Western

countries, 844–845, 852

Paine, Thomas (1737–1809), 386; Common Sense, 355, 357; The Rights of Man, 375, 386

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Index I29

Pakistan, 928–929; confl icts with India, 931

Palacky, Francis (pa’-lat-ski) (1798–1876): His- tory of Bohemia, 474

Palatinate, 139, 140

Paleography, 255

Palestine, 655, 708, 728, 814; confl ict, with Israel,

951–952

Palestinian National Authority, 955

Panama Canal, 583

Pankhurst, Emmeline (1858–1928), 618, 619

Pan-Slav Assembly, 1848, 512

Pan-Slavism, 658

Pantheism, 259

Papacy, 24, 26, 38–41, 55; Babylonian Captiv-

ity, 52; and the Council of Trent, 94; and the

French Revolution, 384; infallibility of, 384,

605, 634

Papal Inquisition (Roman Inquisition), 97

Papen, Franz von (1879–1969), 831

Papin, Denis (pa-piN’) (1647–1712), 248

Paracelsus (par-a-sel-sus) (Hohenheim) (1493–

1541), 71, 235

Paris: Age of Enlightenment, 313; city design,

531, 533; Commune, 594, 597, 615; Franco-

Prussian War, 552, 594; liberated, WWII,

867; salons, 175–176, 312–314, 318

Paris, Treaty of (fi rst), 306–308, 441

Paris, Treaty of (second), 444

Parlements, France, 176, 184, 328; eighteenth

century, 286; and enlightened despotism,

328, 330

Parliament, English, 36–37, 51, 193; eighteenth

century, 286–287, 345–348; houses of,

160–162; Houses of (building), 464; Labour

Party, 812, 813, 902–903; Long Parliament,

162–163; nineteenth century, 600–601;

Pride’s Purge, 163; reform, 346, 347–348,

492–493, 499, 602, 1025; seventeenth cen-

tury, 160–163, 165–173; ship-money dispute,

162; Solemn League and Covenant, 163

Parliament, Scottish, 1025

Parliament Act of 1911, 602

Parliamentary socialism, 616

Parliaments, origin of, 36

Parma, prince of (Alexander Farnese) (1546–

1592), 128, 129

Parthenon, 12, 13; damaged, 207

Pascal, Blaise (1623–1662), 174, 240, 248, 249,

251, 257, 1042

Passchendaele, battle of (1917), 703

Pasternak, Boris (1890–1960): Dr. Zhivago, 919, 989

Paternalism, 466

Patronage, 345, 348

Paul III, Pope (1534–1549), 93, 95, 96

Paul the Apostle (Saint Paul) (died c. A.D. 67),

16, 43, 80

Paul VI, Pope (1963–1978), 1049, 1050

Pavlov, Ivan (1849–1936), 623

Pax Romana, 15 Peace of Aix-la-Chapelle, 297

Peace of Alais, 138

Peace of Augsburg, 84, 85, 124, 139

Peace of Belgrade, 207

Peace of Karlowitz, 207

Peace of Paris, 724–733. See also Versailles, Treaty of; China and, 800; failure of, 843;

principles of, 729

Peace of Prague, 142

Peace of Utrecht, 189, 190–193; sequelae,

285–293

Peace of Vienna, 445, 447

Peace of Westphalia, 99, 142–143, 146, 193, 195;

Alsace Lorraine, 187; sequelae, 157, 187,

193, 195, 211

Peacock Throne, 303

Pearl Harbor naval base, Japanese attack on, 861

Peasants, 118. See also Feudalism; Serfs; and the French Revolution, 372–373, 375, 381, 389,

393; rebellion of, 31, 35, 50–51, 77, 81–82,

222, 226, 746; and the Russian Revolution,

746; Soviet Union (U.S.S.R), 762–764

Peel, Robert (1788–1850), 458, 491, 495

Péguy, Charles (1873–1914), 721

Penal code, 172

Peninsular War, 417

Pennsylvania colony, 159

People’s Republic of China, 778, 885, 888, 895,

896, 921, 1005; cultural revolution, 1055;

and Ghana, 941; nuclear nonproliferation

treaty, 1062; as nuclear power, 984; and the

Soviet Union, 889, 892, 895, 921; United

Nations membership, 1059

People’s Will, 737

Perestroika, 988, 991, 1005 Persia, 953. See also Iran; anti-imperialism,

792, 795; First World War, 792; imperialism

in, 678; nationalism, 687; Second World

War, 953

Persian Gulf War, 1063

Peru, 105

Pétain, Marshal (pay-tiN’) (1856–1951), 712,

855, 903

Peterloo massacre, 478, 480

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IndexI30

Peters, Karl (1856–1918), 663

Peter the Apostle (Saint Peter) (died c. A.D. 67),

16, 24

Peter the Great, Tsar of Russia (1682–1725), 217,

218, 224–227; and Church reform, 223–224;

death, 229, 334; executes son, 229; exposure

to Western culture, 224; portrait, 225; secular-

ism, 229

Petrarch, Francesco (pee’-trark) (1304–1374), 63

Petrodollars, 916

Philip II, King of Spain (1554–1598), 89–90,

124–126; death of, 132; invasion of England,

130, 131

Philip IV, King of Spain (1621–1665), 132

Philip of Macedon (359–336 B.C.), 13

Philippines, 104; independence, 926; Second

World War, 861

Philip the Fair, King of France (1284–1314), 52

Philip V, King of Spain (1700–1746), 189, 285

Philosophes (fee-lo-zuff), 312–315; and the French

Revolution, 368, 392

Philosophical Radicals, 464, 468

Philosophy: inductive vs. deductive reasoning,

237–238; and mathematics, 238; modern,

1042–1043; of natural law, 250; and religious

faith, 259

Physics, 240, 624–626; social implications of,

1038–1040

Physiocrats, 320, 321

Physiology, study of, 240

Picasso, Pablo (1881–1973), 630, 632, 849, 1045;

Guernica, 849 Piedmont. See Sardinia (Savoy, Piedmont) Pinter, Harold (1930–2008): The Homecoming,

1048

Pinyin system, 798

Pirates, piracy, 130, 132, 481

Pissaro, Camille (1830–1903), 628

Pitt, Thomas (1653–1726), 283, 305, 306

Pitt, William (1708–1778), 302, 387, 390

Pitt, William (1759–1806), 283

Pius II, Pope (1458–1464), 55

Pius IX, Pope (1846–1878), 509; Syllabus of Errors, 514, 605, 634

Pius XII, Pope (1939–1958), 1049

Pizarro, Francisco (pi-zah’-ro) (1506–1548), 103

Plague, 50–51, 53

Planck, Max (1858–1947), 625, 1037

Planned economy: and First World War, 716, 766;

U.S.S.R (Union of United Soviet Socialist

Republics), 765–767, 770–772

Plantation system, 280, 282, 564

Plato (427–347 B.C.), 12; Republic, 12 Plehve, Vyacheslav K. (1846–1904), 745, 748

Plekhanov, Georgi (1857–1918), 740–741

Pobiedonostsev, Konstantin Petrovich (po-byay-

donost’-zeff) (1827–1907), 737

Pogroms, 737

Poincaré, Raymond (pwaN-ka-ray’)

(1860–1934), 816

Poland, 220; alliance with Russia, 225; geo-

graphical territory, 339; nationalism, 432,

473–474; NATO membership, 1062; parti-

tion of, 332, 337–338; post-Napoleonic, 444,

476–477; post–WWI, 726, 727, 781–782,

784, 790; resistance, to Soviet rule, 923;

revolution of 1830, 489–491; Second World

War, 853, 854, 878, 893, 895; since the eigh-

teenth century (map), 342; solidarity move-

ment, 992–994

Police force, professional, 491

Polish Republic, 6–7, 200–203; boundaries of,

196; classes, 200–202; decline of, 195, 225;

early commercialism, 123–124; government,

200–203; (map), 200

Polish underground, WWII, 867

Political theory, 260–265; defi nition, 260

Politiques, 135–136 Pollution, 1070–1072

Pomerania, 211, 226

Pompadour, Madame de (1721–1750), 317

Poniatowski, Stanislas (po-nee-a-toff-skee)

(Stanislaus II, King of Poland) (1764–1795),

313, 340

Poor, working, 119–120

Poorhouses, 498

Poor Laws, 116, 119, 166, 493, 498

Pope, Alexander (1688–1744), 249

Popes, Roman Catholic. See Papacy; specifi c popes

Popular Front, France, 819, 820–821

Popular Party, Italy, 1022

Population: estimated by continental areas, 574;

world, 1067–1070, 1072

Population distribution: of Europe, 140, 174;

seventeenth century, 159, 174

Population growth, 29–36, 109; causes of, 573–

575; Europe, 573–576; and the Plague, 50–51,

53; world, 573–575, 1067–1070, 1072

Populism, Russia, 740–741

Portsmouth,Treaty of (1905), 685

Portugal: EU membership, 977; regains indepen-

dence, 133, 143; same-sex marriage, 1057;

socialism, 976

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Index I31

Portuguese colonies: in Africa, 667, 926, 946, 947;

in Asia, 100–102; in Brazil, 483

Positive Philosophy (Comte), 522 Positivism, 522–523

Postmodernism, 1047–1048

Potemkin, Grigory (po-tyom’-kin)

(1739–1791), 338

Potosí silver mines (po-to-see’), 105, 110, 124

Potsdam conference, 880, 888

Poussin, Nicholas (poo-siN’) (1594–1665),

174, 177

Pragmatic Sanction of 1438, 75

Pragmatic Sanction of 1713, 210, 295

Prague spring (pragh), 966–968

Praise of Folly (Erasmus), 73 Pravda (Bolshevik newspaper) (prahv-duh), 748

Predestination, 86

Prehistory, 1–2, 11

Presbyterians, 163, 350–351

Pretenders, to English throne, 171, 288

Pride’s Purge, 163

Printing industry, 113

Printing press, fi rst, 71

Private property, 166, 173, 263, 281, 283, 381, 452

Procurator of the Holy Synod, 224, 227

Progress: concept of, 267, 268; faith in, 309,

310, 611

Proletariat, 527–528. See also Working class; Rus- sian, 738

Propaganda, and totalitarianism, 836–838

Property rights, 166, 173, 263. See also Feudalism; Prussia, eighteenth century, 333

Protestant, origin of term, 78

Protestant evangelicals, 1049

Protestant Reformation, 70, 77–93; and economic

development, 91–93; and education, 121–122;

in England, 88–91; Geneva, Switzerland, 86;

and social revolution, 81–83

Protestants/Protestantism, 91–93. See also Calvin- ism; Huguenots; Lutheranism; ecumenical

movement, 1048–1049; England as bulwark,

130; in Ireland, 350–351, 602, 604, 815, 903;

marriage and family, 92; nineteenth century,

632–633; repression, by Austrian monarchy,

209; return to Catholicism, 166, 167; twenti-

eth century, 1048–1049; and women, 92–93

Protestant wind, 131

Proust, Marcel (1871–1922), 1047; Remembrance of Things Past, 810

Prussia, 191, 200, 203; Austro-Prussian War, 547;

class system, 217; economy, 216; forma-

tion of, 210–218; under Frederick the Great,

332–333, 338, 340; and the French Revolu-

tion, 390; geography, 211–212; and German

nationalism, 436; growth of, 1415-1918

(map), 214–215; militarism, 333; Napoleon

conquers, 333, 434; and Napoleonic Europe,

415; North German Confederation, 547–548;

parallels with Russia, 217, 219–220; and

partition of Poland, 338, 340; and Pragmatic

Sanction, 210; reaction to Napoleon, 412;

Revolution of 1848, 510–511, 516–520; and

Seven Years’ War, 300, 308; social stratifi ca-

tion, 333; taxation, 216; and unifi cation of

Germany, 544–555

Prussian army, 213–218; recruitment, 217;

uniforms, 219

Psychology, 623–624, 640

Ptolemy, 13; Ptolemaic system, 241, 242

Puerto Rican independence, 925

Pufendorf, Samuel (poo-fn-dorf) (1632–1694):

Law of Nature and of Nations, 262 Pugachev, Emelian (poo-ga-choff) (1726–1775),

335–337

Punch (British magazine), 608 Punjab, India, 928

Purcell, Henry (1659–1695), 160

Puritan Revolution, in England, 164; and Ameri-

can Revolution, 346

Puritans, 158

Putin, Vladimir V. (poo-teen, vla-dee-meer’)

(1952–), 1009, 1010

Putsches, 506, 786; Beer Hall Putsch, 828, 829 Putting out system, 111, 113, 160

Pythagoras (pi-tha’-grus) (?569–?475 B.C.), 13

Qaddafi , Muammar al- (1942-2011), 1066

Qaeda, al-, 1063, 1064

Q’ing (Ch’ing) dynasty, 678, 680. See also Man- chu dynasty

Quadruple Alliance, 440, 445

Quakers (Society of Friends), 165, 167

Quebec, Canada, 304

Quebec Act of 1774, 353

Quesnay, François (kay-náy) (1694–1774), 314

Quisling, Vidkun (1887–1945), 856

Qur’an (Koran), 21, 22

Rabelais, François (?1490–1553), 70

Race: as cultural concept, 2; and equality, 10

Racine, Jean (ra-seen’) (1639–1699), 174

Racism, 263–264; and immigrant populations,

1023; and imperialism, 653; and nationalism,

837–838; and totalitarianism, 837–838

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IndexI32

Radicalism, 460, 464–465

Radio, invented, 583

Radioactivity, 625

Radiocarbon dating, 2

Radischev, Alexandr Nikolaevich (1749–1802):

Voyage from St. Petersburg to Moscow, 386 Railroads, 455, 532, 566, 567, 572, 577, 584;

fi nancing, 588; high-speed trains, 913; Trans-

Siberian Railway, 681

Ranke, Leopold von (rahn’-kuh) (1795–1886), 472

Rapallo, Treaty of, 787

Rasputin, Grigory (Angl. rass-pew’-tin) (1872– 1916), 749, 750

Rastadt, Treaty of (Angl. rah’-stat), 189, 207 Rathenau, Walter (1867–1922), 718, 829

Razin, Stephen (d. 1671), 222, 223, 335

Reading public, 312

Reagan, Ronald (1911–2004), 973, 981, 984, 985,

992

Realism, 60–62, 522–523, 810

Realpolitik (rah-ahl’-po-lee-teek’), 523, 547 Reason, and natural law, 261, 262

Reasoning, inductive vs. deductive, 237–238

Recusants, 90, 97

Red Army, 756, 757

Red Brigades, 1055

Red Shirts (Garibaldi’s Thousand), 542–544

Red Terror, 757, 758

Reformation. See Counter Reformation (Catholic Reformation); Protestant Reformation

Refractory clergy, 384–385, 389

Refugees: political, 900–901; Yugoslavian, 1023

Regiomontanus (John Müller) (re’-jee-o-mon-

tay’nus) (1436–1476), 71

Reichstag (rikes’-tahk), 604, 606

Relativity, theory of, 624–625

Religion. See also Catholic Church (Roman Catholic Church); Christianity; Islam; Jews,

Judaism; Muslims; Protestants/Protestant-

ism; Witchcraft: and Age of the Democratic

Revolution, 344; and anthropology, 623;

eighteenth-century Europe, 271–273; and the

Enlightenment, 310–311, 317–318; and the

French Revolution, 395–396; and liberalism,

637–638; modern world, 1048–1052, 1058–

1059; mysticism and lay religion, 71–72;

and natural law, 262; in Nazi Germany, 833;

nineteenth century, 631–636; and philosophy,

259; and scientifi c thought, 248–251, 257–

259; Soviet Union (U.S.S.R), 771; and totali-

tarianism, 835; and world confl ict, 1058–1059

Religions, state, in Europe about 1560 (map), 89

Religious fundamentalism, 1051. See also Islamic fundamentalism; spread of, 1052

Religious toleration: Age of Enlightenment, 317–

318, 325; and cultural relativism, 251–252;

Dutch Republic, 153; and global diversity,

1058–1059; Great Britain, 346; Ottoman

Empire, 204–205

Religious wars. See Wars of Religion Rembrandt (1606–1669), 112, 151, 152

Renaissance, 56–70; art, 59–62; Catholic Church,

67; education, 65; etiquette, 65–67; Germany,

71–72, 76–77; Holy Roman Empire, 76–77;

Italy, 56–70, 234; literature, 61–65; marriage

and family, 67; monarchies, 70–71, 74–77;

outside Italy, 70–73; politics, 67–70; religion,

71–72; Universities, 70–71

Renan, Ernest (rnaN’) (1823–1892), 632

Renoir, Pierre-Auguste (1841–1919), 628

Republicanism, 465–466, 598–600

Retail commerce, 593, 595

Revenue Act of 1764 (Sugar Act), 352

Revolution of 1848, 501–534; outcomes of, 520

Revolution of 1688 (Glorious Revolution), 171,

265–266

Reza, Shah Pahlavi, Muhammad (Shah of Iran)

(1941–1979), 953

Reza Shah Pahlavi (Shah of Iran)

(1925–1941), 795

Rhodes, Cecil (1853–1902), 669

Ricardo, David (1772-1823), 458

Richelieu, Cardinal (re-she-lyuh’) (1585–1642),

138, 142

Rigaud, Hyacinthe (1659–1743), 147, 180

Rights, natural, 263–264

Rimsky-Korsakov, Nikolay

(1844–1908), 737

Robespierre, Maximilien (ro-bes-pyair’)

(1758–1794), 389, 396, 498; fall of,

396–398, 407

Robot (forced labor), 123 Rochefoucauld, Duke de la (1747–1827), 360

Rohan, Duke of (1579–1638), 138

Roi de Soleil (Sun King). See Louis XIV, King of France

Roland, Madame (ro-laN’) (1754–1793), 386

Rolling Stones, 1054

Roman Catholic Church. See Catholic Church (Roman Catholic Church)

Romance languages, 14

Roman Empire, 14–16; boundaries of, 14–15,

19–20; disintegration of, 19–20; later, 20, 24,

25; and religion, 17

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Romania, 205, 207, 538, 609, 714, 728, 781; fall

of communism, 999–1000; post–WWI, 784;

Second World War, 858, 869, 881, 893

Roman Inquisition, 97

Romanov, Michael, Tsar of Russia (Angl. ro’ma- noff) (1613–1645), 222

Romanovs, 222

Romanticism, 319, 432, 434, 461–463

Rome: occupation of, 544; sacked, 70

Rommel, Erwin (1891–1945), 860

Roosevelt, Eleanor (1884–1964), 886

Roosevelt, Franklin Delano (1882–1945), 811;

meets with Allies, 876–878, 880

Roosevelt, Theodore (1858–1919), 639

Rose, Sonya O., 459

Roundheads, 163

Rousseau, Jean-Jacques (roo-so’) (1712–1778),

314, 315, 318–320, 323; Considerations on Poland, 320; Discourse on Arts and Sciences, 319; Discourse on the Origin of Inequality Among Men, 319; Emile, 320; and French Revolution, 320, 368; Héloïse, 320, 368; por- trait, 320; Social Contract, 319, 320, 368, 371

Royal, Segolene (1953–), 1026, 1027

Royal Academy of Sciences, 245–246, 249, 312

Royal African Company, 264

Royal Society of London, 245

Rubens, Peter Paul (1577–1640), 96, 153

Ruhr, Germany, 892

Rump Parliament, 163, 165

Rusk, Dean (1909–1994), 965

Russell, Bertrand (1872–1970): Principia Math- ematica, 1043

Russia. See also Russia, post-Soviet; Russia, under Peter the Great; Russian Revolution;

Soviet Union (U.S.S.R): anarchism, 562;

in Asia, 650; Bolsheviks, 617, 710; Cadets

(Constitutional Democrats), 738; Crimean

War, 533–534, 555; defeats Napoleon, 438–

439; early commercialism, 124; enlightened

despotism, 333–339; expansion of, 195;

First World War, 690, 695, 696, 698–700,

702, 709–710; geographical territory, 6–7;

growth of in the west (map), 230; Industrial

Revolution, 737–738; intelligensia, 739;

international trade, 114; joins UN Security

Council, 1004; legal system, 560; liberaliza-

tion, of tsarist, 555–557, 560–562; literature,

737; medieval, 49; and Napoleonic Europe,

413–416, 418; nationalism, 474; occupation

of Asia, 675–678; and Ottoman Empire,

658, 661; and partition of Poland, 338,

340; peasants in, 222, 226–227, 229–230,

335–336, 556–557, 560, 561, 738–739, 748;

before Peter the Great, 220–224; populism,

739–741; post-Napoleonic, 487; post–WWI,

728; Russo-Japanese neutrality, 861; Russo-

Japanese War, 879; science, 737; socialism,

562, 709–710, 738, 740; space program,

1040–1041; territorial expansion, 336–338;

United Nations membership, 1059; western-

ization of, 748–749; working class, 738

Russia, post-Soviet, 1005–1018; Chechen rebel-

lion, 1007; constitution, 1007; nuclear non-

proliferation treaty, 1062; nuclear weapons,

1006; privatization, 1006; role of, 1062

Russia, under Peter the Great, 224–227; absolut-

ism, 222, 227; alliance with Poland and Den-

mark, 225; army, 225–226; commerce and

trade, 219–220; defeats Sweden, 226; early

contact, with Europe, 220; government, 222,

227–229; invades Europe, 225–226; under

Ottoman Turks, 205; parallels with Prussia,

217, 219–220; peasant rebellion, 222, 223,

226; peasants, disenfranchised, 229–230;

Romanov dynasty, 222; social classes, 227–

229; social graces taught, 229; taxation, 227;

Time of Troubles (1604–1613), 222; western-

ization of, 218–231

Russian Federation, 1003

Russian Federation in 2000 (map), 1008

Russian Front, Second World War, 859

Russian imperialism: in Asia, 681, 682, 685–687;

and Russo-Japanese War, 685–687

Russian Orthodox Church, 223–224, 227, 737, 989

Russian Revolution, 563, 735–778; and anti-

imperialism, 792–793; background, 737–739;

Bloody Sunday, 745, 746; Bolsheviks seize

power, 753–754; civil war, 754–758; com-

parison, with French, 735–736, 755; Constitu-

tional Democrats, 744, 746; fi rst Duma, 747;

and First World War, 749–751, 754, 755;

labor strikes, 746; Leninism, 741–744; Marx-

ists, 710, 740–741; Nicholas II abdicates, 750,

751; October Manifesto, 746; party organiza-

tion, 742, 752–758; peasant rebellion, 746;

Red Terror, 757, 758; Revolution of 1905,

744–749, 775; Revolution of 1917, 749–758;

and Russo-Japanese War, 746, 747; Social

Democrats, 740–741, 745; Social Revolu-

tionaries, 754; soviets, 745–746, 751, 753;

Stolypin reforms, 748–749; terrorism, 563,

748, 756; totalitarianism and, 838, 839; war

communism, 754–758

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Russian Social Democratic Party, 615, 617

Russo-Japanese War, 685–687, 709, 791; and

Russian Revolution, 746

Russo-Turkish War of 1877–1878, 658–660

Ruthenians, 220

Rutherford, Ernest (Lord Rutherford)

(1871–1937), 625

Rwanda, 1061

Sacrament, defi nition, 41

Sahara Desert, 6

Saint-Simonians, 466, 468, 469, 531, 532

Sakharov, Andrei (1921–1989), 989

Salazar, Antonio (1889–1970), 840

Salons, Paris, 175–176, 312–314, 318

SALT I (Strategic Arms Limitation), 969

Salutati, Coluccio, 63–64

Same-sex partnerships and marriage, 1057

Sand, George (1804–1876), 461, 469, 471

Sanitation, eighteenth-century Europe, 272

San Martín, José de (1778–1850), 484

Sans-culottes (saN-cUl-ut’), 390 San Stefano, Treaty of (san steff’-a-no), 658

Sarajevo Crisis (sa-ra-yay-vo), 696–699

Sardinia (Savoy, Piedmont), 191, 541, 543;

Crimean War, 538; Revolution of 1848,

510–511, 513

Sarkozy, Nicholas (1955–), 1027

Sartre, Jean-Paul (1905–1980), 1042, 1043

Sassoon, Siegfried (1886–1967), 721

Saudi Arabia, 729, 947; terrorists, 1063

Savoy (Sardinia, Piedmont). See Sardinia (Savoy, Piedmont)

Saxons, 26

Saxony, 142

Say, J. B. (1767–1832), 463

Scharnhorst, General von (1775–1813), 436

Schiller, Friedrich von (1759–1805), 461

Schlegel, Friedrich (1772–1829), 461

Schleicher, Kurt von (shli’-ker)

(1882–1934), 831

Schlieffen Plan (shlee-fi n), 700

Schmidt, Helmut (1918–), 910, 976–977

Scholasticism, 42

Schönbrunn Palace, 300

Schöner, Johannes (shU-nr) (1477–1547), 255

Schröder, Gerhard (shrø-der, gehr-hard)

(1944– ), 1026

Science: advent of, 13; and the Cold War, 884;

and ethics, 1038–1039; faith in, 620, 626;

importance of, 233–234; nineteenth century,

620–626; Renaissance, 70–71; Russia, 737;

seventeenth century, 151, 174; before the sev-

enteenth century, 234–236

Scientifi c method, 237; mathematics and, 238, 240

Scientifi c revolution, 246–247; and politics, 250,

251; and religious faith, 248–251, 257–259;

and sense of evidence, 254, 257

Scientifi c societies, 245–248

“Scorched earth policy,” Russia, 859

Scotland: confl ict with England, 158, 162–163,

349, 350; joins with England, 171, 191; popu-

lation, eighteenth century, 277

Scott, Joan W., 459

Scottish Parliament, 1025

Sea of Galilee (map), 954

Secessionists, United States, South, 565

Second Industrial Revolution, 583–584

Second International, 616, 617, 775

Second World War, 216, 843–881. See also Cold War; France; Great Britain; Holocaust; Paci-

fi sm; Soviet Union (U.S.S.R); United States;

African Americans in, 862; air assaults, 858,

863; Allied invasion of Europe, 866–871;

Allies, 862; Allies meet, 876–881; appease-

ment, 852–853; atomic bomb, 873, 875;

Australia, 861; battle of Britain, 858; battle

of Stalingrad, 865–866; battle of the Atlantic,

861, 863; Belgium, 854, 855; Bulgaria, 869,

881; Burma, 861; Canada, 866; casualties,

Japanese, 873, 875; casualties, Polish, 867;

casualties, Russian, 866; the Caucasus, 859,

860; consequences of, 843–844; Czecho-

slovakia, 850, 852–853, 893; deportation

and resettlement, of populations, 892–893;

Eastern Europe, 878; Eastern Front, 865–867,

869, 870–871; Egypt, 860, 865; Europe

(map), 868–869; Finland, 853, 854, 881;

France, 844, 854–857, 867; Germany, after,

881; Great Britain, 857, 858, 860; Greece,

856; Hungary, 881, 893; India, 928; interven-

tion vs. isolationism, 856, 858; Italy, 881;

Japan, 860–861, 881; Japanese Americans,

interned, 862; Lend-Lease Act, 858; mobi-

lization, United States, 862; Nazis surren-

der, 871; North Africa, 847, 860, 864–865;

Pacifi c theater, 860–862, 868–869, 873; Pearl

Harbor, 861; Poland, 853, 854, 878, 893;

reconstruction, economic, 897–902; repara-

tions, 878, 881, 890–892; Romania, 869,

881, 893; Soviet Union (U.S.S.R), 760, 845,

853, 854, 859–861, 877–878, 881; United

States, after, 887–890; United States during,

856, 857–858, 867, 870; Western Pacifi sm,

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844–845; Western-Soviet victory, 861–875;

Yugoslavia, 1012

Secularization, 49–50, 56, 58–60, 70, 143; and

Age of Democratic Revolution, 344; Age of

Enlightenment, 317–318, 331; and enlight-

ened despotism, 325; and scientifi c thought,

250–251; twentieth century, 1052

Selassie, Haile, Emperor of Ethiopia

(1930–1973), 847

Selective service, 712

Semiotics, 1043

Separation of powers, 316

Sephardic Jews, 75

Sepoy Rebellion, 674

Sepoys, 305

September 11, 2001, 1063, 1064

“September massacres,” 389

Serbia, 609, 696, 1012, 1015. See also Balkans Serbs, Bosnian, 1012, 1014, 1015–1016

Serfs, 30, 35, 521. See also Feudalism; eastern Europe, 123, 329–333; rebellion of, 50–51,

335–336; Russian, 222, 227, 229–230,

335–336

Servetus, Michael (ser-vee’-tus) (1511–1553), 86

Seurat, George (1859–1891): Sunday Afternoon on the Island of La Grande Jatte, 603

Seven Weeks’ War, 548

Seven Years’ War, 283, 294, 299–303; and Colo-

nial America, 301, 352; in Europe, 299–300;

in India, 304; Peace Settlement of 1763,

306–308

Seymour, Jane (1509–1537), 88

Shakespeare, William (1564–1616), 159, 273;

Hamlet, 159; King Lear, 159; Macbeth, 159, 273

Shaw, George Bernard (1856–1950), 616

Sheeler, Charles (1883–1965), 587

Shelley, Mary Wollstonecraft (1797–1851), 461

Shelley, Percy Bysshe (1792–1827), 461

Shiite Muslims (shee-ite), 21, 947, 953

Ship money dispute, 162

Shipping industry, 585–586

Shoguns, 573

Siam (Thailand), delegations to Europe,

252, 253

Siberia, 220; deportation to, 918

Sicily, 189

Sick man of Europe, 655

Siegfried Line, 854, 867

Sieyès, Abbé (syay-ess’) (1748–1836), 405; What Is the Third Estate?, 371

Sikhs, 303, 928

Silesia, 206, 218, 295, 296, 332; Second

World War, 869

Silesian wars, 294, 295

Silk industry, 116

Silver mines, 105, 110, 124

Silverware, origins of, 270

Simon, Richard (see-moN’) (1638–1712): Critical History of the Old Testament, 258

Sinai Peninsula, 951, 952, 955; (map), 954

Single European Act, 979

Sinn Fein (shin fayn’), 815

Sisters and Brothers of the Common Life, 72

Six Acts, 479

Six-Day War, 951, 955

Skepticism, 251–253; defi nition, 251; rejected, in

Age of Enlightenment, 310

Skinheads, 1023

Slavery: abolished, in British colonies, 565; abol-

ished, in British Empire, 493; abolished, in

French colonies, 395, 503, 565; abolished, in

Spanish colonies, 565; Americas, 104–105,

191–192, 264–265; ancient Greece, 12; in

colonial Africa, 666; Eighteenth Century,

280; Middle Ages, 29; United States, 356,

565–566

Slave trade, 481; and African demographics, 573;

eighteenth century, 280

Slavic Revival, 474, 512–513, 694

Slovenia, 1012, 1014–1015

Smith, Adam (1723–1790), 321, 323, 458; Wealth of Nations, 321, 323, 359, 381

Smith, Anthony D., 540

Sobieski, John, King of Poland (1674–1696),

202, 207

Soboul, Albert, 399

Social Darwinism, 623, 626; and imperialism, 653

Social Democrats: Germany, 785, 787, 1027;

post–WWII, 902; Western Europe, 976; West

Germany, 910

Socialism, 460, 466–467, 498, 503, 612–614, 787;

vs. communism, 775–777, 780; Fabian soci-

ety, 616; and First World War, 775; France,

594, 599–600, 615, 617, 904, 974–975, 1028;

Germany, 548, 605–607; Great Britain, 602,

614–616; and imperialism, 649–650; Italy,

976; and labor unions, 612–616; of Napoleon

III, 531; Portugal, 976; post-WWII, 899, 901–

902; revisionist, 617; Russian, 562, 709–710,

738, 740; war, 718, 719; Western Europe,

976–977; West Germany, 908

Social mobility: Age of Enlightenment, 333; eigh-

teenth century Europe, 281–283; Germany,

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IndexI36

437; and the Industrial Revolution, 450–451;

Napoleonic Europe, 424

Social movements, 10; Europe, nineteenth

century, 460–475

Social stratifi cation. See Classes, social Social structure, defi nition, 117

Society of Friends (Quakers), 165, 167

Society of Jesus (Jesuits), 96–97, 252, 262, 847

Socrates (469–399 B.C.), 12

Soldiers. See also Mercenaries: eighteenth century, 294

Solemn League and Covenant, 163

Solidarity movement, 995

Solzhenitsyn, Alexander (zol-je-neet’-sin) (1919–

2008): Gulag Archipelago, 989; One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich, 919

Somme, battle of (sum), 702, 703

Sorel, Georges (1847–1922): Refl ections on Vio- lence, 640, 821

South Africa, 568, 815

South African War (Boer War), 669–671

South Korea, 896

South Sea bubble, 289

South Sea Company, 290

Sovereign debt crisis, 1028

Sovereignty, modern theory of, 137, 143

Soviets, 745, 751, 753

Soviet Union (U.S.S.R), 758–765. See also Cold War; KGB (Soviet secret police); NKVD; and

Africa, 941, 946; agrarian policy, 990; anti-

Semitism, 918; art, 764, 771, 1046; classes,

social, 760–761, 771; collapse of, 987,

1000–1005; collectivization of agriculture,

767–769; Cominform (Communist Informa-

tion Bureau), 890; and Communist China,

800–802, 896, 921; Communist Party in, 760–

761; competition, 771; constitution of 1936,

772; coup, againt Gorbachev, 1002–1003;

crisis in, 988–992; declares war on Japan,

879; dissolution of, 227, 760, 1003; expan-

sion, post–WWII, 889; expelled from League

of Nations, 853; founding, 758, 760–761; and

Germany, 964; government, vs. Nazi Ger-

many, 835; industrialization, 768, 769–770;

invades Afghanistan, 981; invades Czechoslo-

vakia, 967–968; joins League of Nations, 845;

KGB (secret police), 774, 918, 989; literature,

764, 771, 919, 989; nationalism, 758, 760;

Nazi-Soviet Pact, 853, 858, 892; New Eco-

nomic Policy (NEP), 761–764; 1922–1991

(map), 762–763; nuclear weapons, 984; occu-

pies North Korea, 895–896; occupies postwar

Germany, 890, 893–894; party organiza-

tion, 760–761; planned economy, 765–767,

770–772; post–WWI, 845; post–WWII, 887;

promotes world revolution, 777; purges,

772–774; religion in, 771, 989; Second World

War, 845, 853, 856, 860, 865–867, 869–870,

877–878, 881; social organization, 884; space

program, 961, 1040; Stalinism, 918–919; as

superpower, 887; totalitarianism, 772–774;

trade, with Germany, 787; in United Nations,

885, 896; women in, 764, 780; world impact,

777, 786

Space programs/space race, 961, 1040–1042; mili-

tary objectives, 1040; Sputnik, 961, 1040 Spain: after the Peace of Utrecht, 285; in the

Americas, 76, 104–108, 483; Catalan inde-

pendence movement, 847; Catalan war, 133;

decline of, 132–133, 148, 150; democratic

advances, 609; as EU member, 977; and

Franco-Prussian War, 550; Golden Age, 124;

invades France, 135, 142; in the Mediterra-

nean, 188; and Napoleonic Europe, 415, 416–

418, 421, 422, 424; nationalism, 432; under

Philip II, 124–126; population, 1068–1069;

post-Napoleonic, 483–486; Renaissance,

75–76; revolt of the Netherlands, 126–128,

139; revolution, nineteenth century, 481–482;

same-sex marriage, 1057; Twelve Years’

Truce, 131, 139; and War of Jenkins’s Ear,

293, 294; wars with Great Britain, 130–131,

164, 293

Spanish-American War, 647

Spanish Armada, 130, 131

Spanish Civil War, 820, 847–850

Spanish Inquisition, 76, 97; in the

Netherlands, 128

Spanish Netherlands, 189; become Austrian Neth-

erlands, 189; Louis XIV invades, 157

Spanish Succession, War of, 150,

188–189, 207

Spartacists, 786

Spencer, Herbert (1820–1903), 626–627

Spengler, Oswald (1880–1936): The Decline of the West, 723

Spice trade, 279

Spinoza, Baruch (spi-no’-zuh, ba-rook’) (1632–

1677), 151, 258; portrait, 260

Sputnik, 961, 1040 Sri Lanka (Ceylon), 928

St. Bartholomew’s Day massacre, 135, 136

St. Petersburg, founded, 226, 228

St. Stephen, crown of, 206

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Staël, Germaine de (stahl) (1766–1817), 314,

426, 468

Stagfl ation, 972

Stakhanovites, 771

Stalin, Joseph V. (1879–1953), 741, 765–774;

Gorbachev on, 989; meets with Allies, 877–

880; post–WWII, 888, 889; purges, 918–919,

922; Second World War, 859, 862, 867

Stalingrad, battle of, 865–866

Stalinism, postwar, 918–919

Stamp Act, 348, 352

Stanley, H. M. (1841–1904), 663

Stanton, Elizabeth Cady (1815–1902), 468,

618, 1055

Star Chamber, 74, 161, 162

State, defi nition, 178

Statute of Artifi cers of 1563, 115

Stavinsky, Serge Alexandre (1886–1934),

818, 819

Steam engine, 248, 454, 455; refi ned, 583; and

transportation, 456

Steel production, 584, 593; Bessemer process, 585

Stein, Baron (1757–1831), 436–437

Stein, Gertrude (1874–1946), 810

Stem-cell research, 1039

Stephenson, George, 455

Stock Exchange, 532

Stock market crash of 1929, 805

Stock markets, established, 197

Stolypin, Peter (sto-lee’-peen) (1863–1911), 748

Stolypin reforms, 748–749

Stonehenge, 11

Strabo (63 B.C.–A.D. 21), 13

Strauss, David Friedrich (1808–1874): Life of Jesus, 632

Streltsi, rebellion of, 226

Stresemann, Gustav (1878–1929), 789

Strikes, labor, 382, 532, 602

Structuralism, 1040

Struggle, popularity of, 640–642

Stuart monarchs, 160–161, 171, 189, 287–288. See also under individual monarchs; individual monarchs

Styria, 206

Suarez, Francisco (soo-ah’-rez) (1548–1617), 125

Sub-Saharan Africa: French, 944–945; geographi-

cal territory, 936; religious divisions, 936

Sudetenland (soo-day’-tn), 732, 850, 852, 893

Suez Canal, 6, 532, 583, 657, 658; nationalized,

659, 660, 951

Suffrage, 343–344; demands for, 348; female, 467,

600, 609, 618, 619, 780, 781, 1055; Great

Britain, 600, 780; post-Revolutionary War,

357; Revolutionary France, 380, 507; univer-

sal male, 465, 520, 594, 609, 772

Sugar, 270, 279

Suharto, General (1921–2008), 934

Sukarno (1901–1970), 933, 934

Suleiman the Magnifi cent (1520–1566), 203, 204

Sunni Muslims, 21, 947

Sun Yat-sen (1867–1925), 791, 798, 800; The Three People’s Principles, 798

Supply-side economics, 972

Suraja Dowla (soo-rah-ja dow’-la) (d. 1757), 305

Sustainable growth, 107–108

Suttee, 673

Swammerdam, Jan (1637–1680), 151

Sweden, 85; allied with Dutch Republic, 157;

invades Russia, 226; territorial victories, 211;

Thirty Years’ War, 140–142, 211

Switzerland, 143, 187; democratic advances,

608, 609

Syndicalism, 617; fascist Italy, 825

Syria, 947, 951, 952

Szlachta (shlahk’-ta) (Polish aristocracy), 202

Taff Vale decision, 614

Taille (tie) (land tax), 326, 328, 369 Taiping Rebellion (tigh-ping), 679, 680

Tajikistan, 1003

Taj Mahal, 303

Talleyrand, Charles Maurice de (1754–1838), 384,

407, 418, 420, 441, 444, 491

Tariffs, 808

Tartars, 46, 196, 205, 220

Tata family, 719, 796

Taxation: of British colonies, 352–353; eighteenth

century, 290–291; France of Louis XIV, 181,

183, 184–185, 326, 369–370; France of Louis

XV, 326, 369; France of Louis XVI, 369–370;

and French Revolution, 369–370, 375, 410;

Middle Ages, 36, 51, 52; Prussia, 216; Rus-

sia, under Peter the Great, 227; seventeenth

century, 162, 166

Tax farmers, 181, 183

Taylor, Harriet, 468

Taylor, Isaac (1829–1901): Ultimate Civilization, 570

Tchaikovsky, Piotr (chigh-koff’-skee)

(1840–1893), 737

Tea, 270, 271

Technology: advances in, and lifestyle, 620–621;

advances in, and mathematics, 247–248;

advances in, and wealth, 267; agricultural,

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IndexI38

7–8, 29–30, 453; computer, 1020, 1034–1035;

early Russia, 221; and the Industrial Revolu-

tion, 451, 454–455, 583; medical, 1036–1037,

1040; military, 210, 247–248; scientifi c, 151;

and unemployment, 971

Telephone, invented, 583

Telescope, invented, 151, 244

Ten Hours Act of 1847, 494, 499

Tennis Court Oath, 371, 374

Teresa of Avila (1515–1582), 95

Terrorism, 1052; Middle East, 1019–1020; and

Russian Revolution, 563, 748, 756; Septem-

ber 11, 2001, 1063, 1064

Test Act of 1673, 167, 491

Testelin, Henri (1616–1695): Founding of the Academy of Sciences, 249

Teutonic Order, 46, 83, 212

Textile industry: eighteenth century, 276–277,

279; and Industrial Revolution, 454–458

Thatcher, Margaret (1925–2013), 972–974

Theology, early, 42

Third Estate, and the French Revolution, 366–367,

370–371

Third International, 775–778, 792

Third Reich, 831–833, 835. See also Nazi Germany

Third Republic, France, 593–599

Third World, 643–644, 925–927; and the Cold

War, 926, 929, 936, 942, 945; women’s

rights, 1055

Thirteenth Amendment, United States

Constitution, 566

Thirty-Nine Articles, 91

Thirty Years’ War, 80, 138–146; armies, 210;

background, 139–140; Bohemian war, 140;

Brandenburg, 212; Dutch Republic, 151;

Peace of Westphalia, 142–143, 146; sequelae,

149, 196–197, 206, 236; Swedish-French

phase, 140–142, 211

Thompson, William: Appeal on Behalf of Women, 468

Thomson, J. J. (1856-1940), 625

Three-fi eld system, 30

Thucydides (471– 401 B.C.), 12

Thugs, 673

Tientsin, treaties of (1857), 680

Tillich, Paul (1886–1965), 1049

Tilly, Louise A., 459

Tilsit, Treaty of, 416

Timekeeping, 221

Time of Troubles (1604–1613), 222, 225

Titian (ca.1488–1576), 126

Tito, Marshal (1892–1980), 895, 922, 1012

Tobacco, 270

Tojo, Hideki (1884–1948), 861

Tokugawa shoguns (to-koo-gaw’-wuh), 573

Toleration Act, 171

Tolstoy, Leo (1825–1910), 737

Tories, 168, 193, 287, 345, 491–495

Torture, and legal system, 254, 570, 1066

Totalitarianism, 263, 835–840; and art, 1046; vs.

communism, 839; evolution of, 835–836; and

fascism, 833; and propaganda, 836, 837, 840;

and racism, 837–838; Soviet Union (U.S.S.R),

772–774, 835–840; violence and, 839–840;

youth movements, 840

Towns, growth of, 32–36

Townshend duties, 352

Trades Disputes Act of 1927, 812

Trade warfare, 427–428

Trafalgar, Battle of (tra-fal’-gar), 415

Transylvania, 139, 140, 205, 206

Treaty on European Union (1992), 980

Treaty system, imperialist, 800

Trevor-Roper, Hugh R., 169

Trickle-down economics, 972

Trinity College (Dublin University), 172

Triple Alliance, 157, 187

Triple Entente, 692

Tristan, Flora (1803–1844), 469

Triumvirs, 542

Troppau, Congress of (trop’-pow), 482

Trotsky, Leon (1879–1940), 741, 753, 754, 756,

765, 773

Trova, Ernest (1927-2009), 1061

Truman, Harry S. (1884–1972), 880, 888, 890, 896

Truman Doctrine, 890

Trumbull, John (1756–1843): Declaration of Inde- pendence, 360

Tsar, etymology of, 221

Tudjman, Franjo (tudge-man, fran-jo) (1922–

1999), 1014, 1015

Tudor monarchs, 74–75, 88–91

Tugenbund (Moral and Scientifi c Union) (too’- gntboont), 435

Tuileries, 531

Tunisia, 938

Turgenev, Ivan (too-gay’-nyeff) (1818–1883), 737

Turgot, Anne Robert Jacques (1727–1781),

314, 370

Turkestan, 1003

Turkey. See also Ottoman Empire: democratic advances, 609; nationalism, 687

Turkish Republic, 793, 796

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Turkmenistan, 1003

Turks. See Ottoman Empire Twelve Years’ Truce, 131, 139

Tyrol, 206

Tzara, Tristan (1896–1963), 723

U-boats, 861

Ukraine (Kiev) (yoo-krane’), 220, 760; Chernobyl

disaster, 1038; independence, 1003; nuclear

weapons, 1006

Ulfi las (ul’-fi -lus), 24

Ulster, plantation of, 159, 163, 171

Ulstermen, 603

Ultramontanism, 634

Union of United Soviet Socialist Republics

(U.S.S.R). See Soviet Union (U.S.S.R) Union of Utrecht, 129, 131

Unitarians, 163

United Kingdom of Great Britain: created,

171; rule of Ireland, 1025; welfare state,

1024–1026

United Nations, 10; in Bosnia, 1015; Cold War,

961; Declaration of Universal Rights, 886;

and Democratic Republic of Congo, 945;

founded, 862, 878, 885; General Assem-

bly, 885; headquarters, 885; membership,

885–886, 926, 936, 1059; peacekeeping role,

1061; Security Council, 879, 885, 896, 1004,

1015, 1065; Universal Declaration of Human

Rights, 1059

United Provinces. See Dutch Republic United States. See also Americas; Cold War:

birthrates, 575; Civil War, 564–566; corporate

offshoring, 1021; Depression era, 811; enters

Second World War, 861; environmental poli-

cies, 1072; and European capital, 588; expan-

sion westward, 565, 566; feminism in, 468,

609, 618–620; First World War, 699, 706,

710–712; immigration, 521, 564–566, 579–

583; infl ation, economic, 971–972; invades

Afghanistan, 1065; involvement in Asia, 895–

897; and Napoleonic Europe, 428; National

Security Council, 890; nuclear non-prolif-

eration treaty, 1062; Pacifi sm, post–WWI,

844–845; post–WWII, 887–890; relationship

to European Union (EU), 1031; renewal of

the draft, 981; Second World War, 844, 856,

857–858, 861–863, 870–871; Second World

War (map), 868–869; Security Council, 890;

social organization, 884–885; space program,

961, 1040–1042; Spanish-American War,

647; suffrage, 609; as superpower, 887, 1060;

terror attacks, 1063, 1064; and the Treaty of

Versailles, 732, 787; in United Nations, 885;

Vietnam War, 965; wars in Iraq, 1066; weap-

ons inspectors, in Iraq, 1065; World Trade

Center attacks, 1063, 1064

United States Constitution, 264

Universal monarchy, 93, 143, 149; demise, with

Peace of Utrecht, 285

Universities: early, 41–42; later sixteenth century,

121; religious toleration at, 252; Renaissance,

70–71

University of Basel, 71

University of Dublin (Trinity College), 172

University of Glasgow, 454

University of Heidelberg, 258

University of Jena, 435

University of Lima, 105

University of Mexico, 105

University of Paris, 42, 114, 252

University of Salamanca, 122

University of Utrecht, 252

U Nu, 930

Ural Mountains, 6, 220

Urban II, Pope (1088–1099), 46

Urbanization: eighteenth century, 276; nineteenth

century, 576, 578

Ursuline sisters, 121

Ussher, James, Archbishop (1581–1656), 256

U.S.S.R (Union of United Soviet Socialist Repub-

lics). See Soviet Union (U.S.S.R) Usury, 114

Utrecht, Treaty of, 189–193

Uzbekistan, 1003

Valois kings, 75

Van Hoogstraten, Samuel (1627–1678), 260

Van Schurman, Anna Maria (1607–1678), 151

Vatican. See also Papacy: authority of, 384; con- cordat with Napoleon, 408; and unifi cation of

Italy, 544

Vatican Council, Second (Vatican II), 93, 94,

1049–1050

Velázquez, Diego (vay-lass’-kayth)

(1599–1660), 125

Venturi, Robert (1925–): Learning from Las Vegas, 1047

Verdi, Giuseeppe (1813–1901): Aïda, 660 Verdun, battle of, 702

Vermeer, Jan (1632–1675), 151, 156; Geographer, The, 152, 156; Girl Reading a Letter at an Open Window, 152, 154

Verona, Congress of, 483

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Versailles, Treaty of, 725, 726–727, 786–787; fail-

ures of, 732–733, 788, 829, 843, 844; France

and, 788; Hitler violates, 846; reparations,

788; United States and, 732, 787

Versailles (vair-sigh’), 180, 182, 183; and the

French Revolution, 379; Siamese delegation

at, 253

Vertical integration, 593

Vesalius (ve-zay’-lee-us) (1514–1564): The Struc- ture of the Human Body, 240

Vespucci, Amerigo (1454–1512), 103

Vichy France, 855–856; collaborators, purged, 903

Victor Emmanuel II, King of Sardinia and Italy

(1849–1878), 541, 543

Victoria, Queen of England (1837–1901), 465,

600, 657, 673

Vienna, 197

Vietnam (vyet-nahm), 897, 934–936, 1005; and its

neighbors about 1970 (map), 967

Vietnam War, 965, 966; opposition to, 966, 1054;

United States withdraws from, 967

Vikings, 100

Vincent de Paul, Saint (1581–1660), 95

Violence, glorifi cation of, 839–840

Virginia colonies: fi rst established, 132;

Jamestown settlement, 159; slavery in, 280

Virtú, 59 Virtues, classical, 12–13

Vladivostok (vla’-di-voss-tok’), 678, 681

Volga River, 220

Volksgeist (folx’-guy-st), 470, 477, 509 Voltaire (1694–1778), 196, 288, 314–318, 324,

368; Age of Louis XIV, 317; and Catherine the Great, 335; Elements of the Philosophy of Newton, 317; Essai sur les moeurs, 318; and Frederick the Great, 317, 332; Philosophical Letters on the English, 317

Voting rights. See Suffrage

Wahabi sect, of Islam, 673

Wales, 1025

Walesa, Lech (vuh-lenss-uh, lek) (1943–), 993

Wallachia (wa-lake’-i-uh), 205, 207

Wallenstein, Albert of (1583–1634), 140, 142

Walpole, Horace (1717–1797), 313

Walpole, Robert (1676–1745), 286, 290, 291, 293

War bonds, 862

Warburton, Bishop (1698–1779), 314

Warfare: eighteenth century, 294–295; trade,

427–428

Warhol, Andy (1928–1987), 1048

War of 1812, 428

War of Austrian Succession, 295–299; Peace of

Aix-la-Chapelle, 297

War of Jenkins’s Ear, 293, 294

War of the League of Augsburg, 187

War of the Polish Succession, 293

War of the Pragmatic Sanction, 295

War poets, 721

Warsaw Pact, 922

Warsaw Pact states, and détente, 969

Wars of Religion, 126, 127–142; France, 133–138;

Spain, 127–142

Wars of the Roses, 52, 74

Washington, George, 355

Water frame, 454

Waterloo, 444

Watt, James (1736–1819), 248, 388, 454

Watts, Isaac (1674–1748), 311

Wat Tyler’s rebellion, 50

Wealth, of Europe, 267–268

Weaponry. See also Nuclear weapons: eighteenth century, 294; scientifi c improvements in,

247–248; seventeenth century, 210

Webb, Beatrice (1858–1943), 616

Webb, Sidney (1859–1947), 616

Weimar Republic (vigh-mar), 215, 715, 781, 782,

786, 816; democracy in, 830; Spartacists,

785, 786; trade, with Soviet Union, 787; and

Treaty of Versailles, 786–787

Welfare state. See also New Deal: dismantling, 1021, 1026; and liberalism, 639–640; rise of,

594, 650; Western Europe, 901, 1021

Wellington, Duke of (1769–1852), 492

Wells, H. G. (1866–1946), 616

Wenceslas, Saint (d. 935), 206

Wesley, John (1703–1791), 311

West Africa, 939–942

West Bank, Jordan, 951

Western Europe, 147–193. See also specifi c country; after the Peace of Utrecht, 285–293;

capitalism, 281–284; death rates, 571; indus-

trialization, 571–573; infl ation, economic,

971–972; life expectancy, 571; literacy rate,

571; nationalism, 470, 471; post–WWII

reconstruction, 897–901; socialism, 976–977;

welfare state, 972

Westfall, Richard S., 246

West Germany. See Federal Republic of Germany (West Germany)

West Indies: and eighteenth-century economy,

280; and Seven Years’ War, 301, 306–308

Wheeler, Anne (1785–1848): Appeal on Behalf of Women, 468

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Wheel Man (Trova), 1061 Whigs, 168, 193, 287, 345, 348

Whitehead, Alfred North (1861–1947): Principia Mathematica, 1043

“White man’s burden,” 653

White Russians, 220

White Sea, 220

White terror, 476

Whitfi eld, George (1714–1770), 311

Whitney, Eli (1765–1835), 454

Wiesel. Elie (1928–), 871

Wilhelm, Emperor of Germany (1871–1888), 553

Wilkes, John (1727–1797), 346, 348

William I, German Emperor (1797–1888):

Emperor of Germany (1871–1888), 604; King

of Prussia (1861–1888), 217, 604

William II, German Emperor (1888–1918), 608,

669, 691, 692, 694; abdication, 715

William III: as King of England (1689–1702),

158, 170, 173, 187, 189; as Stadtholder of the

Netherlands (1672–1689), 157

William the Conqueror, King of England (1066–

1087), 30

William the Silent (William of Orange) (1578–

1584), 128, 129, 150, 157

Wilson, Woodrow (1856–1924), 639, 709–711,

715, 724, 726, 728, 729

Witchcraft: debunked, 151, 310; and evidence,

254; in literature, 273; persecution of witches,

52, 54, 139, 235, 236

Wittgenstein, Ludwig (1889–1951), 1043

WMD (weapons of mass destruction), 1065

Wohl, Robert, 722

Wollstonecraft, Mary (1759–1797): Vindication of the Rights of Woman, 377, 467

Women. See also Feminism; Women, in Islam; Women’s liberation movement: Age of

Enlightenment, 312–314, 318, 320; in the

Age of the Democratic Revolution, 376–377;

artists, 629–631; British feminists and “The

Indian Woman,” 654–655; and Catholic

Church, 92–93, 1051; in domestic service,

120; Dutch Republic, seventeenth century,

151; and early Christianity, 17; education

for, 65, 121, 151, 1056; in fascist Italy, 826,

834–835; in France, 609, 975; and gender

inequality, 10, 17; as guild members, 34; in

Iceland, 1056; in Islam, 955, 956; in Nazi

Germany, 834–835, 863; nursing profession,

538; persecution, as witches, 52, 139, 235,

236; in political life, 1056; Protestant, 92–93;

Renaissance, 59, 62, 65, 67; Soviet Union

(U.S.S.R), 764, 780; suffrage for, 467, 600,

780, 781; in twenty-fi rst European elections,

1026; in the workforce, 717, 718

Women’s liberation movement, 1055–1058

Women’s rights. See also Feminism; Suffrage, female: and contraception, 1056–1057; global

defi nition, 1059–1060

Women’s Social and Political Union, 618

Woolf, Virginia (1882–1941): To the Lighthouse, 810

Wordsworth, William (1770–1850), 386, 461

Workhouses, 498

Working class, 119–120, 381–382. See also Labor unions; confl icting values of, 529; and impe-

rialism, 651; Industrial Revolution, 455–460,

466–467, 493–494, 496, 498, 738; and Parlia-

mentary reform, 498–499; Russian, 738

World, in 1763 (map), 307

World about 1970 (map), 962–963

World Council of Churches, 1048

World Trade Center attacks, 1063, 1064

World Trade Organization (WTO), 912;

founding, 1035

World War I. See First World War World War II. See Second World War World Wide Web, 1034

Wren, Christopher (1632–1723), 160

Wright, Frances (1795–1852), 468

Written language, 11; and cultural change, 269;

popular books, 273

Wundt, Wilhelm (1832–1920), 623

Wyclif, John (wik’-liff) (1320–1384), 53, 54

Xenophobia, 1005

Yalta conference, 877, 879, 888

Yeats, William Butler (1865–1939), 723

Yeltsin, Boris (1931–2007), 1001–1004,

1007–1010

Yeomen, 118

Yom Kippur War, 951–952, 955

Young Hegelians, 524–525

Young Italy, 471

Young Turks, 657, 659, 662, 695, 791, 793

Youth culture, 1053–1054

Youth movements, 1052–1055

Ypsilanti, Alexander (ip-si-lan-tee) (1792–1828),

482–483

Yüan Shih-kai (shee-kigh) (1859–1916), 798

Yugoslavia, 714, 728, 1005; collapse of, 1012;

communist, 889, 895; nationalism, 1011–

1012; post–WWI, 784; resistance, to Soviet

rule, 922; Second World War, 859, 1012

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Zeeland, 127

Zemstvos (zemst’-voze), 749

Zenta, battle of, 207

Zhou Enlai (jo en-ly) (1898–1976), 802

Zhukov, Georgi (zhoo-koff) (1896–1974),

865–866, 869

Zimmerman, Arthur (1859–1940), 706

Zimmerman telegram, 706, 711

Zimmerwald program, 775

Zinoviev letter, 777, 792, 813

Zionism, 635–636, 707–708, 814, 954, 1051

Zola, Emile (1840–1902), 599, 627

Zollverein (tsoll’-fe-rine or Angl. zoll’-ve-rine), 516

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  • Cover
  • Title
  • Copyright
  • Contents
  • List of Chapter Illustrations
  • List of Chronologies, Historical Interpretations and Debates, Maps, Charts, and Tables
  • Preface
  • Geography and History
  • Chapter 1 THE RISE OF EUROPE
    • 1. Ancient Times: Greece, Rome, and Christianity
    • 2. The Early Middle Ages: The Formation of Europe
    • 3. The High Middle Ages: Secular Civilization
    • 4. The High Middle Ages: The Church
  • Chapter 2 THE UPHEAVAL IN WESTERN CHRISTENDOM, 1300–1560
    • 5. Disasters of the Fourteenth Century
    • 6. The Renaissance in Italy
    • 7. The Renaissance Outside Italy
    • 8. The New Monarchies
    • 9. The Protestant Reformation
    • 10. Catholicism Reformed and Reorganized
  • Chapter 3 THE ATLANTIC WORLD, COMMERCE, AND WARS OF RELIGION, 1560–1648
    • 11. The Opening of the Atlantic
    • 12. The Commercial Revolution
    • 13. Changing Social Structures
    • 14. The Wars of Catholic Spain: The Netherlands and England
    • 15. The Disintegration and Reconstruction of France
    • 16. The Thirty Years' War, 1618–1648: The Disintegration of Germany
  • Chapter 4 THE GROWING POWER OF WESTERN EUROPE, 1640–1715
    • 17. The Grand Monarque and the Balance of Power
    • 18. The Dutch Republic
    • 19. Britain: The Civil War
    • 20. Britain: The Triumph of Parliament
    • 21. The France of Louis XIV, 1643–1715: The Triumph of Absolutism
    • 22. The Wars of Louis XIV: The Peace of Utrecht, 1713
  • Chapter 5 THE TRANSFORMATION OF EASTERN EUROPE, 1648–1740
    • 23. Three Aging Empires
    • 24. The Formation of an Austrian Monarchy
    • 25. The Formation of Prussia
    • 26. The Transformation of Russia
  • Chapter 6 THE SCIENTIFIC VIEW OF THE WORLD
    • 27. The Emergence of a Scientific Culture: Bacon and Descartes
    • 28. The Road to Newton: The Law of Universal Gravitation
    • 29. New Knowledge of Human Beings and Society
    • 30. Political Theory: The School of Natural Law
  • Chapter 7 THE GLOBAL STRUGGLE FOR WEALTH AND EMPIRE
    • 31. Elite and Popular Cultures
    • 32. The Global Economy of the Eighteenth Century
    • 33. Western Europe after the Peace of Utrecht, 1713–1740
    • 34. The Great War of the Mid-Eighteenth Century: The Peace of Paris, 1763
  • Chapter 8 THE AGE OF ENLIGHTENMENT
    • 35. The Philosophes—and Others
    • 36. Enlightened Despotism: France, Austria, Prussia
    • 37. Enlightened Despotism: Russia
    • 38. The Partitions of Poland
    • 39. New Stirrings: The British Reform Movement
    • 40. The American Revolution
  • Chapter 9 THE FRENCH REVOLUTION
    • 41. Social and Cultural Backgrounds
    • 42. The Revolution and the Reorganization of France
    • 43. The Revolution and Europe: The War and the "Second" Revolution, 1792
    • 44. The Emergency Republic, 1792–1795: The Terror
    • 45. The Constitutional Republic: The Directory, 1795–1799
    • 46. The Authoritarian Republic: The Consulate, 1799–1804
  • Chapter 10 NAPOLEONIC EUROPE
    • 47. The Formation of the French Imperial System
    • 48. The Grand Empire: Spread of the Revolution
    • 49. The Continental System: Britain and Europe
    • 50. The National Movements and New Nationalist Cultures
    • 51. The Overthrow of Napoleon: The Congress of Vienna
  • Chapter 11 INDUSTRIES, IDEAS, AND THE STRUGGLE FOR REFORM, 1815–1848
    • 52. The Industrial Revolution in Britain
    • 53. The Advent of the "ISMS"
    • 54. The Leaking Dam and the Flood: Domestic
    • 55. The Leaking Dam and the Flood: International
    • 56. The Breakthrough of Liberalism in the West: Revolutions of 1830–1832
    • 57. Triumph of the West European Bourgeoisie
  • Chapter 12 REVOLUTIONS AND THE REIMPOSITION OF ORDER, 1848–1870
    • 58. Paris: The Specter of Social Revolution in the West
    • 59. Vienna: The Nationalist Revolutions in Central Europe and Italy
    • 60. Frankfurt and Berlin: The Question of a Liberal Germany
    • 61. The New European "ISMS": Realism, Positivism, Marxism
    • 62. Bonapartism: The Second French Empire, 1852–1870
  • Chapter 13 THE CONSOLIDATION OF LARGE NATION-STATES, 1859–1871
    • 63. Backgrounds: The Idea of the Nation-State
    • 64. Cavour and the Italian War of 1859: The Unification of Italy
    • 65. The Founding of a German Empire and the Dual Monarchy of Austria-Hungary
    • 66. Tsarist Russia: Social Change and the Limits of Political Reform
    • 67. Nation-Building in the Wider Atlantic World: The United States and Canada
  • Chapter 14 EUROPEAN CIVILIZATION, 1871–1914: ECONOMY AND POLITICS
    • 68. The Modern "Civilized World"
    • 69. Basic Demography: The Increase of Europe's Population
    • 70. The World Economy of the Nineteenth Century
    • 71. The Advance of Democracy: Third French Republic, United Kingdom, German Empire
  • Chapter 15 EUROPEAN CIVILIZATION, 1871–1914: SOCIETY AND CULTURE
    • 72. The Advance of Democracy: Socialism, Labor Unions, and Feminism
    • 73. Science, Philosophy, the Arts, and Religion
    • 74. The Waning of Classical Liberalism
  • Chapter 16 EUROPE'S WORLD SUPREMACY, 1871–1914
    • 75. Imperialism: Its Nature and Causes
    • 76. The Dissolution of the Ottoman Empire
    • 77. The Partition of Africa
    • 78. Imperialism in Asia: The Dutch, the British, and the Russians
    • 79. Imperialism in Asia: China and Europe
    • 80. The Russo-Japanese War and Its Consequences
  • Chapter 17 THE FIRST WORLD WAR
    • 81. The International Anarchy
    • 82. The Armed Stalemate
    • 83. The Collapse of Russia and the Intervention of the United States
    • 84. The Collapse of the Austrian and German Empires
    • 85. The Economic, Social, and Cultural Impact of the War
    • 86. The Peace of Paris, 1919
  • Chapter 18 THE RUSSIAN REVOLUTION AND THE EMERGENCE OF THE SOVIET UNION
    • 87. Backgrounds
    • 88. The Revolution of 1905
    • 89. The Revolution of 1917
    • 90. The Union of Soviet Socialist Republics
    • 91. Stalin: The Five-Year Plans and the Purges
    • 92. The International Impact of Communism, 1919–1939
  • Chapter 19 DEMOCRACY, ANTI-IMPERIALISM, AND THE ECONOMIC CRISIS AFTER THE FIRST WORLD WAR
    • 93. The Advance of Democracy after 1919
    • 94. The German Republic and the Spirit of Locarno
    • 95. Anti-Imperialist Movements in Asia
    • 96. The Great Depression: Collapse of the World Economy
  • Chapter 20 DEMOCRACY AND DICTATORSHIPIN THE 1930S
    • 97. Trials and Adjustments of Democracy in Britain and France
    • 98. Italian Fascism
    • 99. Totalitarianism: Germany's Third Reich
  • Chapter 21 THE SECOND WORLD WAR
    • 100. The Weakness of the Democracies: Again to War
    • 101. The Years of Axis Triumph
    • 102. The Western-Soviet Victory
    • 103. The Foundations of the Peace
  • Chapter 22 THE COLD WAR AND RECONSTRUCTION AFTER THE SECOND WORLD WAR
    • 104. The Cold War: The Opening Decade, 1945–1955
    • 105. Western Europe: Economic Reconstruction
    • 106. Western Europe: Political Reconstruction
    • 107. Europe and the Global Economy
    • 108. Communist Societies in the U.S.S.R.and Eastern Europe
  • Chapter 23 DECOLONIZATION AND THE BREAKUP OF THE EUROPEAN EMPIRES
    • 109. The Emergence of Independent Nations in South Asia and Southeast Asia
    • 110. The African Revolution
    • 111. Europe and the Modern Middle East
  • Chapter 24 COEXISTENCE, CONFRONTATION, AND THE NEW EUROPEAN ECONOMY
    • 112. Confrontation and Détente, 1955–1975
    • 113. Collapse and Recovery of the European and Global Economy: The 1970s and 1980s
    • 114. The Cold War Rekindled and Defused
  • Chapter 25 THE INTERNATIONAL REVOLT AGAINST SOVIET COMMUNISM
    • 115. The Crisis in the Soviet Union
    • 116. The Collapse of Communism in Central and Eastern Europe
    • 117. The Collapse of the Soviet Union
    • 118. After Communism
  • Chapter 26 EUROPE AND THE CHANGING MODERN WORLD
    • 119. Western Europe after the Cold War
    • 120. Nation-States and Economies in the Age of Globalization
    • 121. Intellectual and Social Transitions in Modern Cultures
    • 122. Europe and International Conflicts in the Early Twenty-First Century
    • 123. Social and Environmental Challenges in the Twenty-First Century
  • Appendix: RULERS AND REGIMES
  • Index
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