MRDA

MRDA (pronounced emm-ahr-dee-ey)

The abbreviation of “Mandy Rice-Davies Applies”, an aphorism used in law and politics to refer to any denial which is transparently self-interested.

1963: An allusion to the statement “Well he would, wouldn't he?”, said by Welsh model Mandy Rice-Davies (1944-2004) during cross-examination in a trial at the Old Bailey (the central criminal court for England & Wales) associated with the Profumo affair.

Lord Astor, Mandy Rice-Davies and the Profumo Affair

The context of Ms Rice-Davies’s answer was the question: “Are you aware that Lord Astor denies any impropriety in his relationship with you?” and the answer “Well he would, wouldn't he?” elicited from those in the court “some amusement”.  MDRA (Mandy Rice-Davies Applies) thus became in law and politics an aphorism used as “verbal shorthand” to refer to any denial which is transparently self-interested although it doesn’t of necessity imply a denial is untrue.  In general use, the fragment from the trial is often misquoted as “Well he would say that, wouldn't he?” because that better encapsulates the meaning without being misleading.

Mandy Rice-Davis (left) and Christine Keeler (right), London, 1963.

The Profumo affair was one of those fits of morality which from time-to-time would afflict English society in the twentieth century and was a marvellous mix of class, sex, spying & money, all things which make a good scandal especially juicy.  John Profumo (1915-2006) was the UK’s Minister for War (the UK cabinet retained the position until 1964 although it was disestablished in the US in 1947) who, then 46, was found to be conducting an adulterous affair with 19 year old topless model Christine Keeler (1942-2017) at the same time she was also enjoying trysts with a Russian spy, attached to the Soviet embassy with the cover of naval attaché.  Although there are to this day differing interpretations of the scandal, there have never been any doubts this potential Cold-War conduit between a KGB spy and Her Majesty’s Secretary of State for War represented at least a potential conflict of interest.

Dr Evatt (left), comrade Molotov (centre) and Soviet translator Alexei Pavlov, exchanging MRDAs in Russian & English, London, 1942.

MRDAs are common in courtrooms and among politicians but some became legends.  In 1954, Dr HV Evatt (1894–1965; Australian attorney-general & foreign minister 1941-1949, and leader of opposition 1951-1960), in the midst of a particularly febrile period during the Cold War, wrote a letter to comrade Vyacheslav Molotov (1890–1986; Soviet foreign minister 1939-1949 & 1953-1956) asking if allegations of Soviet espionage in Australia were true.  Comrade Molotov of course wrote back, politely denying the USSR engaged in spying anywhere.  Assured, Evatt read the letter to the parliament and the members sat for a moment stunned until, on both sides, loudly laughing.  It was a MRDA before there were MRDAs.

The Profumo affair is noted also for being at least an influence in the end of the “age of deference” in England and while that’s often probably overstated, the immediate reaction and the aftermath proved it wasn’t only across colonial Africa that a “wind of change” was blowing.  The second Lord Astor (1907–1966) was emblematic of the upper classes of England who once would have expected deference from someone like Ms Rice-Davis, someone “not of the better classes” as his lordship might have put it.  Although what came to be known as the “swinging sixties” didn’t really begin until a couple of years after the Profumo affair when the baby-boomers began to come of age, the generational shift had by then become apparent and it was something surprisingly sudden as the interest of the young switched from pop music to politics.  As recently as the 1959 election campaign, the patrician Harold Macmillan (1894–1986; UK prime-minister 1957-1963) had told the working classes “most of you have never had it so good” and for the last time they would express their gratitude to their betters, delivering the Tories an increased majority, an impressive achievement for "the last of the old Edwardians" who, upon assuming the premiership in 1957 in the wake of the Suez debacle, had told the Queen he doubted his administration would last six weeks.

In the matter of Lehrmann v Network Ten Pty Limited [2024] FCA 369

Mr Justice Lee.

Justice Michael Lee (b 1965) in April 2024 handed down one of the more anticipated judgments of recent years, finding Bruce Lehrmann (b 1995), on the civil law test of the balance of probabilities, had raped Brittany Higgins (b 1993) on the sofa in a ministerial suite in Parliament House while the victim was affected by strong drink.  Apart from the heightened public interest in the verdict, lawyers were watching closely to see if there would be encouragement for those defending themselves in defamation cases, something which had been lent unexpected strength by an earlier judgment; although the matter of rape was central to the facts, Lehrmann v Network Ten was a defamation case.  However, for those who appreciate judicial findings for their use of language, Justice Lee didn’t disappoint and although neither Ms Rice-Davies nor MRDA were mentioned in his text, as he assessed the conduct and evidence of Mr Lehrmann, they may have come to mind.

Janet Albrechtsen in her study.

In his opening remarks, the judge acknowledged the case had become a cause celebre for many and that it was best described as “an omnishambles”, the construct being the Latin omni(s) (all) + shambles, from the Middle English schamels (plural of schamel), from the Old English sċeamol & sċamul (bench, stool), from the Proto-West Germanic skamul & skamil (stool, bench), from the Vulgar Latin scamellum, from the Classical Latin scamillum (little bench, ridge), from scamnum (bench, ridge, breadth of a field).  In English, shambles enjoyed a number of meanings including “a scene of great disorder or ruin”, “a cluttered or disorganized mess”, “a scene of bloodshed, carnage or devastation” or (most evocatively), “a slaughterhouse”.  As one read the judgement one could see why the judge was drawn to the word although, in the quiet of his chambers, “clusterfuck” may have been in his thoughts as he pondered the best euphemism.  Helpfully, one of the Murdoch press’s legal commentators, The Australian’s Janet Albrechtsen (b 1966; by Barry Goldwater out of Ayn Rand) who had been one of the journalists most interested in the case, informed the word nerds omnishambles (1) dated from 2009 when it was coined for the BBC political satire The Thick Of It and (2) had endured well enough to be named the Oxford English Dictionary’s (OED) 2021 Word of the Year.  The judge's linguistic flourish was a hint of things to come in what was one of the more readable recent judgments.

Noting Mr Lehrmann’s original criminal trial on the rape charge had been aborted (after having already been delayed for reasons related to the defamation matter) because of jury misconduct with a subsequent retrial not pursued because of the prosecution’s concern about the fragile mental state of the complainant, the judge observed “Having escaped the lion’s den, Mr Lehrmann made the mistake of coming back for his hat.”  In other words, Mr Lehrmann who could have walked away with no findings against him, lured by the millions of dollars to be gained, rolled the legal dice and was found to have committed rape.  He is of course not the first to fall victim to suffer self-inflicted legal injury in not dissimilar circumstances; the writers (from different literary traditions) Oscar Wilde (1854–1900) and Jeffrey Archer (b 1940) both were convicted and imprisoned as a consequence of them having initiated libel actions.  Whether Mr Lehrmann will now face a retrial in the matter of rape is in the hands of the Australian Capital Territory’s (ACT) Director of Public Prosecutions (DPP).  In such a case, it would be necessary to prove the event happened under the usual test in criminal law: beyond reasonable doubt.  Even if that isn’t pursued by the DPP, his time in courtrooms may not be over because it’s possible he may face action because of his conduct in this trial with the handling of certain documents and another unrelated matter is pending in Queensland.

In considering the evidence offered by Mr Lehrmann, the judge appears to have found some great moments in the history of MRDAs:

Commenting on his claim to having returned (after midnight following Friday evening’s hours of convivial drinking) to his Parliament House office to write papers about the French submarines and related government matters, he observed Mr Lehrmann “…hitherto had demonstrated no outward signs of being a workaholic.”  “To remark that Mr Lehrmann was a poor witness is an exercise in understatement.”

Regarding the claim Mr Lehrmann had made to someone to whom he’d just been introduced that he was “…waiting on a clearance to come through so that he could go and work at Asis.” (the Australian Security Intelligence Service; the external intelligence service al la the UK SIS (MI6) or the US CIA (although without the assassinations… as far as is known)), the judge observed she “…kept her well-founded incredulity to herself.”, such “Walter Mitty-like imaginings” demonstrating he “…had no compunction about departing from the truth if he thought it expedient.”

Lindsay Lohan and her lawyer in court, Los Angeles, December, 2011.

The reading of the judgement was live-streamed and the passage which got the loudest chuckle was in the discussion of Mr Lehrmann’s deciding whether he found Ms Higgins attractive.  In an interview on commercial television broadcast in 2023, he’d denied finding the young lady attractive, despite the existence of comments dating from 2019 indicating the opposite.  Pausing only briefly, Justice Lee delivered this news with an arched eyebrow:  “When confronted by this inconsistency, his attempt to explain it away by suggesting the attraction he felt for Ms Higgins was ‘just like [the attraction] I can find [in] anybody else in this [court]room, irrespective of gender’ was as disconcerting as it was unconvincing.”  The judge ordered to audience to suppress their laughter.

Even regarding submarines as a likely topic over drinks, his honour was sceptical: “With the exception of Mr Lehrmann, no one who gave evidence as to their time at The Dock could recall discussing Australia’s submarine contracts with France at either table. The lack of recollection of any discussion of this topic is intuitively unsurprising.  Declaiming on the topics of who was building submarines and where they were being built was not quite the repartee one would usually expect to hear over a convivial drink on a Friday night between 20 [something]-year-olds out for a good time – even if (with respect) one would not expect the badinage of the Algonquin Round Table.” (an early twentieth century, shifting aggregation of men & women of letters who met over lunch in New York’s Algonquin Hotel, their barbs and thoughts often appearing in their newspaper & magazine columns; they dubbed themselves “The Vicious Circle” and were a sort of Cliveden set without the politics.  Cliveden was a stately home in Buckinghamshire, the country seat of Lord Astor and the scene of many of the events central to the Profumo affair).

The judge was forensic in his deconstruction of Mt Lehrmann’s MRDA he returned to Parliament House after being out drinking with Ms Higgins and others in order to retrieve his keys: “If the reason Mr Lehrmann needed to return to Parliament House was to collect his keys, he could have texted his girlfriend to have her meet him at the door or called her.  Mr Lehrmann asks me to accept the proposition that it was ‘a process to get in’ to his shared flat and that to avoid this complication, he preferred to: (a) go out of his way to go back to work in the early hours; (b) lie to Parliament House security; (c) sign the necessary register; (d) be issued with a pass; (e) go through a metal detector; (f) be escorted by a security guard to his office; (g) obtain his keys from his office; (h) book another Uber; (i) go back through a Parliamentary exit; (j) meet the ride-share car; and then (k) ride home.”

Bruce Lehrmann leaving the court after the verdict was delivered.

In psychiatry, distinction is made between the “habitual” and “compulsive” liar and while this wasn’t something Justice Lee explored, he did in one passage sum up his assessment of the likely relationship to truth in anything Mr Lehrmann might say: “I do not think Mr Lehrmann is a compulsive liar, and some of the untruths he told during his evidence may sometimes have been due to carelessness and confusion, but I am satisfied that in important respects he told deliberate lies. I would not accept anything he said except where it amounted to an admission, accorded with the inherent probabilities, or was corroborated by a contemporaneous document or a witness whose evidence I accept.”

One fun footnote from the case was a non-substantive matter, Ms Lisa Wilkinson (b 1959), the Network 10 journalist at the centre of the defamation claim, objecting to being characterized as a “tabloid journalist”.  It transpired her employment history included stints with Dolly, the Australian Women’s Weekly and commercial television including the Beauty & the Beast show.  Unfortunately, she wasn’t asked to define what she thought “tabloid journalism” meant; perhaps Justice Lee decided he’d heard enough MRDAs that day.

On the basis that, on the balance of probabilities, Mr Lehrmann did rape Ms Higgins, his claim for damages against Network Ten for defamatory material earlier broadcast was dismissed.  The judge found the material indeed had the capacity to defame but because the imputations substantially were true, their defense was sustained.  So, the only millions of dollars now to be discussed concern the legal costs: who is to pay whom, the judge asking the party’s submission be handed to the court by 22 April.  Mr Lehrmann’s legal team has not indicated if they’re contemplating an appeal.

Rationale

Rationale (pronounced rash-uh-nal)

(1) The fundamental reason or reasons serving to account for something.

(2) A statement of reasons.

(3) A reasoned exposition of principles, especially one defining the fundamental reasons for a course of action or belief; a justification for action.

(4) A liturgical vestment worn by some Christian bishops of various denominations (now rare), the origin of which is the breastplate worn by Israelite high priests (a translation of λογεῖον (logeîon) or λόγιον (logion) (oracle) in the Septuagint version of Exodus 28)).  The French spelling (rational) of the Latin ratiōnāle was used in Biblical translations.

(5) In engineering, a design rationale is the explicit documentation of the reasons behind decisions made when designing a system; it was once used of what now would be described as a set of parameters.

1650-1660: From the Late Latin ratiōnāle (exposition of principles), nominative singular neuter of ratiōnālis (rational, of reason).  After some early inventiveness, the modern sense "fundamental reason, the rational basis or motive of anything" became standardised during the (1680s).  In the nature of such things, many rationales are constructed ex post facto.  Rationale is a noun; the noun plural is rationales or rationalia.

Prince Metternich & Dr Rudd: illustrating rationale & rational

Portrait of Prince Metternich (1822), miniature on card by Friedrich Lieder (1780-1859).

Rationale and rational are sometimes confused.  A rationale is a process variously of explanation, reason or justification of something that need not be at all rational (although many fashioned ex post facto are re-formulated thus).  To be rational, something must make sense and be capable of being understood by the orthodox, accepted methods of the time.  That something may subsequently be shown to be irrational does not mean it did not at some time appear rational; one can construct a rationale for even something irrational.  To construct a post-Napoleonic Europe, Prince Metternich (Prince Klemens of Metternich-Winneburg zu Beilstein (1773–1859); foreign minister of the Austrian Empire 1809-1848 & chancellor 1821-1848) built a rationale for the Congress of Vienna (1814-1815) that was well understood.  It was vision of a Europe, divided between the great powers, in which was maintained a perpetual balance of power which would ensure peace.  That in the two centuries since, the Congress has attached much criticism, largely for imposing a stultifying air of reaction on the continent, does not render the structure irrational nor detract from Metternich’s rationale.  Some historians have come to regard the congress more fondly and while it’s not true the consequence was a century of peace in Europe, it created a framework which meant a good number of decades in that time were notably less blood-soaked than what came before and certainly what followed.

Dr Rudd at the ceremony to be conferred DPhil, University of Oxford, September, 2022.

By 2009, Kevin Rudd ((b 1957); Prime Minister of Australia 2007-2010 & June-September 2013), having realised being prime-minister was a squandering of intellectual talent, embarked on a re-design of relationships in the Asia-Pacific, structured in a way to suit what was self-evidently obvious: he should assume regional leadership.  These things do happen when folk get carried away.  Not discouraged by the restrained enthusiasm for his good idea, Mr Rudd penned one of his wordy rationales which, to him, must have sounded rational but less impressed was just about everybody else in the region including his own cabinet and it’s difficult to recall any hint of interest from other countries.  Mr Rudd quibbled a bit, claiming his use of the word community was just diplomatic shorthand and he wasn’t suggesting anything like what the EU ever was or had become but just better way of discussing problems.  Anyway, it for a while gave him a chance to use phrases like “ongoing and continuing discussions” and “regional and sub-regional architecture” so there was that.  By 2010 the idea had been allowed quietly to die and he had more pressing problems.

Attaining the premiership was Rudd’s mistake.  Had he never achieved to position he’d probably be spoken of as “the best prime-minister Australia never had” but instead he’s among those (and of late there have been a few) remembered as the Roman historian Tacitus (circa 56–circa 120) in the first volume of his Histories (circa 100) wrote of Galba (3 BC–AD 69; Roman Emperor 68-69): "...omnium consensu capax imperii nisi imperasset" (everyone would have agreed he was qualified for governing if he had not held the office).  His background was as a senior public servant who provided advice to others so they could make decisions and he enjoyed a solid career which was clearly well-suited to his skills.  Unfortunately, when occupying the highest political office in the land, he proved indecisive and too often inclined to refer to committees matters which he should have insisted came to cabinet with the necessary documents.  His other character flaw was he seemed unable to understand there was a difference between “leadership” and “command”, unable to realise there was a difference between the structured hierarchy of the public service and the swirling clatter of politics.  His career in The Lodge (the prime-minister’s official residence in Canberra) can be recalled as the Italian historian and politician Francesco Guicciardini (1483–1540) noted of Pope Clement VII (1478–1534; pope 1523-1534): “…knowledgeable and effective as a  subordinate, he fell victim when in charged to timidity, perplexity and habitual irresolution.”  With that, the Italian writer Piero Vettori (1499–1585) concurred, writing: “From a great and renowned cardinal, he was transformed into a little and despised pope”, a sentiment familiar in the phrase repeated in militaries around the world (outstanding major; average colonel; lousy general) to describe that truism in organizational behaviour: “Everyone gets promoted to their own level of incompetence”.

That aphorism was from The Peter Principle (1970), written by Raymond Hull (1919–1985) and based on the research of Laurence Peter (1919–1990), the idea being someone who proves successful in one role will be promoted and if competent there, they will be promoted again.  However, should they fail, within the hierarchy, that is the point of their incompetence, the implication being that the tendency is, as time passes, more and more positions within a corporation will be filled by the incompetent.  The exceptions of course are (1) those competent souls who for whatever reason decline promotion and (2) the habitually successful who will in theory continue to be promoted until they reach the top and, if they prove competent there, this results in the paradox of the typical corporation being run by someone competent but staffed substantially by the incompetent.  In politics, reaching the top means becoming prime-minister, president or some similar office and as Winston Churchill (1875-1965; UK prime-minister 1940-1945 & 1951-1955) described it: "...if he trips he must be sustained. If he makes mistakes they must be covered. If he sleeps he must not wantonly be disturbed. If he is no good he must be poleaxed.  In one of the more amusing recent episodes in politics, the Australian Labor Party (ALP) decided Dr Rudd had been promoted to the relevant point and poleaxed him, a back-stabbing which remains one of the best organized and executed seen in years.  Subsequently, the party concluded his replacement was even more of a dud and restored Dr Rudd to the job, a second coming which lasted but a few months but that was long enough for him to revenge himself upon the hatchet men responsible for his downfall so there was that.       

Still, after his political career (which can be thought a success because he did did reach the top of the “greasy pole” and the delivered the ALP a handsome election victory although their gratitude was short-lived (a general tendency in democracies noted (sometimes gleefully) by many political scientists)) he has been busy, even if the secretary-generalship of the United Nations (UN) (an office which is an irresistible lure for a certain type) proved elusive.  Recently he became Dr Rudd, awarded Doctorate of Philosophy (DPhil) by the University of Oxford.  His 420 page thesis, written over four years, explores the world view of Xi Jinping (b 1953; general secretary of the Chinese Communist Party (CCP) and paramount leader of the People's Republic of China (PRC) since 2013) and the relationship of his ideology to both the direction taken by the CCP and the links with the thoughts (and their consequences) of Chairman Mao (Mao Zedong 1893–1976; chairman of the Chinese Communist Party (CCP) 1949-1976).

Dr Rudd says his thesis argues “…there has been a significant change in China’s ideological worldview under Xi Jinping compared with previous ideological orthodoxies under Deng Xiaoping, Jiang Zemin and Hu Jintao [and summarises] Xi’s worldview as a new form of ‘Marxist-Leninist Nationalism’”.  Dr Rudd says he preferred “Marxist Nationalism” because “the term contains within it three core propositions”: (1) “Xi’s Leninism has taken both the party and Chinese politics in general to the left” (and he defines “left” for these purposes as “…the reassertion of the power of the party over all public policy as well as elevating the position of the individual leader against the rest of collective leadership”), (2) “Xi’s notion of Marxism has similarly taken the centre of gravity of Chinese economic thought to the left” ("left" in this aspect defined as “…a new priority for party-state intervention in the economy, state-owned enterprises over the private sector and a new ideology of greater income equality”) and (3) “Xi has also taken Chinese nationalism to the right (“right” here meaning “a new assertion of Chinese national power as reflected in a new array of nationalist ‘banner terms’ that are now used in the party’s wider ideological discourse.”)  Dr Rudd views these three forces as “…part of a wider reification of the overall role of ideology under Xi Jinping. This has been seen in the fresh application of Marxist Leninist concepts of dialectical materialism, historical materialism, the primary stage of socialism, contradiction and struggle across the range of China’s current domestic and international challenges. The role of nationalism has also been enhanced within Xi’s new ideological framework. This hybrid form of Marxist Nationalist ideology is also being increasingly codified within the unfolding canon of Xi Jinping thought.” 

“Finally, the thesis argues there is a high degree of correlation between these ideological changes on the one hand and changes in the real world of Chinese politics, economic policy and a more assertive foreign policy on the other - including a different approach to Chinese multilateral policy as observed by diplomatic practitioners at the UN in New York.  The thesis concludes these changes in Xi Jinping’s ideological worldview and its impact on Chinese politics and public policy is best explained by a theoretical framework that integrates Authoritarian Resilience Theory, the realist and constructivist insights of the English School of International Relations Theory, and Foreign Policy Analysis.”  Clearly, Dr Rudd thinks the CCP has come a long way since comrade Stalin (1878-1953; Soviet leader 1924-1953) casually dismissed Maoist theory as “ideologically primitive”.

Since March 2023, Dr Rudd has served as Australian Ambassador to the United States, the announcement of the appointment attracting some speculation there may be a secret protocol to the contract, providing for him to report to the prime-minister rather than the foreign minister.  It was mischievous speculation and there has been little but praise for the solid work he has been doing in the Washington embassy.  Dr Rudd’s role attracted headlines in March 2022 when a interview with Donald Trump (b 1946; US president 2017-2021) was broadcast in which the former president was acquainted (apparently for the first time) with some uncomplimentary assessments Dr Rudd had made of him including describing him “the most destructive president in history” and “a traitor to the West”.

Having doubtless heard and ignored worse over the years, Mr Trump seemed little concerned but did respond in his usual style, observing he didn’t know much about Dr Rudd except he’d heard he was “a little bit nasty” and “not the brightest bulb”, adding “he’d not be there long” if hostile to a second Trump presidency.  Trumpologists analysing these thoughts suggested the mildness of the reaction indicated the matter was unlikely to be pursued were he to return to the Oval Office, noting his habit of tending to ignore or forget about anything except actual threats to his immediate self-interest.  After taking office in 2017, when asked if he would pursue the legal action he’d during the campaign threatened against Bill (b 1946; US president 1993-2001) & crooked Hillary Clinton (b 1947; US secretary of state 2009-2013) (mostly on the basis of crooked Hillary’s crooked crookedness), he quickly brushed it off saying: “No, they’re good people” and moving on.  It’s thought Dr Rudd won't end up in the diplomatic deep-freeze, the most severe version of which is for a host nation to declare a diplomat "persona non grata" (the construct being the Latin persōna (person) + nōn (not) + grāta (from grātus (acceptable)), the consequence of which is an expulsion from the territory and the worst fate he may suffer is not receiving an invitation to a round of golf (something unlikely much to upset him).  Others however should be worried, in a second Trump White House, there will be vengeance.

Like "diplomatic toothache" and "null & void", the phrase "persona non gratia" has become part of general language, the utility being in few words describing what would otherwise take many more.  Impressionistically, it would seem "troubled starlets" are more than most declared "persona non gratia".

Tsar

Tsar (pronounced zahr)

(1) An emperor or king.

(2) Title of the former emperors of Russia and several Slavonic states.

(3) Slang term for an autocratic ruler or leader.

(4) Slang term for a person exercising great authority or power in a particular field.

1545-1555: From the Old Russian tsĭsarĭ (emperor or king), akin to the Old Church Slavonic tsěsarĭ, the Gothic kaisar and the Greek kaîsar, all ultimately derived from the Latin Caesar (an emperor, a ruler, a dictator) while the Germanic form of the word was the source of the Finnish keisari and the Estonian keisar.  The prehistoric Slavic was tsesar, Tsar first adopted as an imperial title by Ivan IV (Ivan Vasilyevich, 1530–1584 and better remembered as Ivan the Terrible, Grand Prince of Moscow and all Russia 1533-1584 & Tsar of all Russia 1547-1584) in 1547.  There’s a curious history to spelling tsar as czar.  Spelled thus, it’s contrary to the usage of all Slavonic languages; the word was so spelt by the Carniolan diplomat & historian Baron Siegmund Freiherr von Herberstein (1486–1566) in his work (in Latin) Rerum Moscoviticarum Commentarii (Notes on Muscovite Affairs (1549)) which was such a seminal early source of knowledge of Russia in Western Europe that "czar" passed into the Western languages; despite that history, "tsar" definitely is the proper Latinization.  It still appears and some linguistic academics insist the lineage means it should be regarded as archaic use rather than a mistake and, as a fine technical point, that’s correct in that, for example, the female form czarina is from 1717 (from Italian czarina and German zarin).  In Russian, the female form is tsaritsa and a tsar’s son is a tsarevitch, his daughter a tsarevna.

Nicholas II (Nikolai II Alexandrovich Romanov, 1868–1918; last Tsar of Russia, 1894-1917).  He cut an imposing figure for the portraitists but his cousin Kaiser Wilhelm II (1859–1941; German Emperor & King of Prussia 1888-1918) reckoned the tsar's mental abilities rendered him most suitable to "a cottage in the country where he can grow turnips".  Wilhelm got much wrong in his life but historians seem generally to concur in this he was a fair judge of things.

Tsar and its variants were the official titles of (1) the First Bulgarian Empire 913–1018, (2) the Second Bulgarian Empire (1185–1396), (3) the Serbian Empire (1346–1371), (4) the Tsardom of Russia (1547–1721) (technically replaced in 1721 by imperator, but remaining in use outside Russia (also officially in relation to certain regions until 1917) and (5) the Tsardom of Bulgaria (1908–1946).  So, although most associated with Russia, the first ruler to adopt the title was Simeon I (usually written as Simeon the Great; circa 865-927, ruler of Bulgaria 893-927) and that was about halfway through his reign and nobody since Simeon II (Simeon Borisov Saxe-Coburg-Gotha, b 1937; (last) Tsar of the Kingdom of Bulgaria 1943-1946) has been a tsar.  The transferred sense of "person with dictatorial powers" seems first to have appeared in English in 1866 as an adoption in American English, initially as a disapproving reference to President Andrew Johnson (1808–1875; US President 1865-1869) but it has come to be applied neutrally (health tsar, transport tsar) and use does sometimes demand deconstruction: drug tsar has been applied both to organised crime figures associated with the distribution of narcotics and government appointees responsible for policing the trade.  In some countries, some overlap between the two roles has been noted.

Comrade Stalin agitprop.

Volgograd, the southern Russian city was between 1925-1961 named Stalingrad (Stalin + -grad).  Grad (град in Cyrillic) was from the Old Slavic and translates variously as "town, city, castle or fortified settlement"; it once existed in many languages as gord and can be found still as grad, gradić, horod or gorod in many place-names.  Before it was renamed in honour of comrade Stalin (1878-1953, leader of the USSR 1924-1953), between 1589-1925, the city, at the confluence of the Tsaritsa and Volga rivers was known as Tsaritsyn, the name from the Turkic-related Tatar dialect word sarisin meaning "yellow water" or "yellow river" but because of the similarity in sound and spelling, came in Russia to be associated with Tsar.  Stalingrad is remembered as the scene of the epic and savage battle which culminated in the destruction in February 1943 of the German Sixth Army, something which, along with the strategic failure of the Wehrmacht in the offensive (Unternehmen Zitadelle (Operation Citadel) in the Kursk salient five months later, marked what many military historians record as the decisive moment on the Eastern Front.  It has become common to refer to comrade Stalin as the "Red Tsar" whereas casual comparisons of Mr Putin (Vladimir Vladimirovich Putin; b 1952; president or prime minister of Russia since 1999) don't often reach to Russia's imperial past; they seem to stop with Stalin.

Caesar (an emperor, a ruler, a dictator) was from the late fourteenth century cesar (from Cæsar) and was originally a surname of the Julian gens in Rome, elevated to a title after Caius Julius Caesar (100-44 BC) became dictator and it was used as a title of emperors down to Hadrian (76–138; Roman emperor 117-138).  The name ultimately is of uncertain origin, Pliny the Elder (23–79) suggested it came from the Latin caesaries (head of hair) because the future dictator was born with a lush growth while others have linked it to the Latin caesius (bluish-gray), an allusion to eye color.  The "probity of Caesar's" wife (the phrase first recorded in English in the 1570s) as the figure of a person who should be above suspicion comes from the biography of Julius Caesar written by the Greek Middle Platonist priest-philosopher & historian Plutarch (circa 46–circa 123).  Plutarch related the story of how Julius Caesar divorced his wife Pompeia because of rumors of infidelity, not because he believed the tales of her adultery but because, as a political position, “the wife of Caesar must not even be under suspicion”.  That’s the origin of the phrase “the probity of Caesar’s wife, a phrase which first appeared in English in the 1570s.

In late nineteenth century US slang, a sheriff was "the great seizer" an allusion to the office's role in seizing property pursuant to court order.  The use of Caesar to illustrate the distinction between a subject’s obligations to matters temporal and spiritual is from the New Testament: Matthew 22:21.

They say unto him, Caesar's. Then saith he unto them, Render therefore unto Caesar the things which are Caesar's; and unto God the things that are God's.

Christ had been answering a question posed by the Pharisees to trap Him: Is it lawful to pay taxes to Caesar (Matthew 22:15–20)?  To answer, Jesus held up a denarius, the coin with which pay the tax and noted that on it was the head of Caesar, by then Caesar had become a title, meaning emperor of Rome and its empire.  It was a clever answer; in saying "render unto Caesar that which is Caesar's and render unto God that which is God's", Jesus dismisses the notion of believers being conflicted by the demands of the secular state as a false dilemma because, one can fulfil the requirements of the sate by a mere payment of coin without any implication of accepting its doctrines or legitimacy.  Over the years much has been made of what is or should be "rendered unto Caesar", but more interesting is inference which must be drawn: if we owe Caesar that which bears his image, what then do we owe God?  It can only be that we owe God that which bears the image of God, an impressive inventory listed in the book of Genesis and now interpreted by some Christians as "the whole universe".  To Caesar we can only ever owe money; to God we owe ourselves.

In the Old English the spelling was casere, which would under the expected etymological process have evolved into coser, but instead, circa 1200, it was replaced in the Middle English by keiser, from the Norse or Low German, and later by the French or Latin form of the name.  Cæsar also is the root of German Kaiser, the Russian tsar and is linked with the Modern Persian shah.  Despite the common assumption, "caesar" wasn’t an influence on the English "king".  King was from the Middle English king & kyng, from the Old English cyng & cyning (king), from the Proto-West Germanic kuning, from the Proto-Germanic kuningaz & unungaz (king), kin being the root.  It was cognate with the Scots keeng (king), the North Frisian köning (king), the West Frisian kening (king), the Dutch koning (king), the Low German Koning & Köning (king), the German König (king), the Danish konge (king), the Norwegian konge (king), the Swedish konung & kung (king), the Icelandic konungur & kóngur (king), the Finnish kuningas (king) and the Russian князь (knjaz) (prince) & княги́ня (knjagínja) (princess).  It eclipsed the non-native Middle English roy (king) and the Early Modern English roy, borrowed from Old French roi, rei & rai (king).

The Persian Shah was from the Old Persian xšāyaθiya (king), once thought a borrowing from the Median as it was compared to the Avestan xšaϑra- (power; command), corresponding to the Sanskrit (the Old Indic) kṣatra- (power; command), source of kṣatriya (warrior).  However, recent etymological research has confirmed xšāyaθiya was a genuine, inherited Persian formation meaning “pertaining to reigning, ruling”.  The word, with the origin suffix -iya was from a deverbal abstract noun xšāy-aθa- (rule, ruling) (Herrschaft), from the Old Persian verb xšāy- (to rule, reign).  In the Old Persian, the full title of the Achaemenid rulers of the First Empire was Xšāyaθiya Xšāyaθiyānām (or in Modern Persian, Šāhe Šāhān (King of Kings)), best as "Emperor", a title with ancient, Near Eastern and Mesopotamian precedents.  The earliest known instance of such a title dates from the Middle Assyrian period as šar šarrāni, used by the Assyrian ruler Tukulti-Ninurta I (1243–1207 BC).

Tsar Bomba: the Tsar bomb

Tupolev Tu-95 in flight (left) and a depiction of the October 1961 test detonation of the Tsar Bomb.

Царь-бомба (Tsar Bomba (Tsar-bomb)) was the Western nickname for the Soviet RDS-220 hydrogen bomb (Project code: AN602; code name Ivan or Vanya), the most powerful nuclear weapon ever detonated.  The test on 30 October 1961 remains the biggest man-made explosion in history and was rated with a yield of 50-51 megatons although the design was technically able to produce maximum yield in excess of 100.  For a long time the US estimated the yield at 54 megatons and the Russians at 58 but after the fall of the Soviet Union in 1991, it was confirmed the true yield was 50-51 megatons.  Only one was ever built and it was detonated on an island off the Russian arctic coast.  The decision to limit the size blast was related to the need to ensure (1) a reduced nuclear fall-out and (2) the aircraft dropping the thing would be able to travel a safe distance from the blast radius (the Kremlin's attitude to the lives of military personnel had changed since comrade Stalin's time).  No nuclear power has since expressed any interest in building weapons even as large as the Tsar Bomb and for decades the trend in strategic arsenals has been more and smaller weapons, a decision taken on the pragmatic military grounds that it's pointless to destroy things many times over.  It's true that higher yield nuclear weapons would produce "smaller rubble" but to the practical military mind such a result represents just "wasted effort".

Progress 1945-1961.

The Tupolev Tu-95 (NATO reporting name: Bear) which dropped the Tsar Bomb was a curious fork in aviation history, noted also for its longevity.  A four-engined turboprop-powered strategic bomber and missile platform, it entered service in 1956 and is expected still to be in operational use in 2040, an expectation the United States Air Force (USAF) share for their big strategic bomber, the Boeing B-52 which first flew in 1952, the first squadrons formed three years later.  Both airframes have proven remarkably durable and amenable to upgrades; as heavy lift devices and delivery systems they could be improved upon with a clean-sheet design but the relatively small advantages gained would not justify the immense cost, thus the ongoing upgrade programmes.  The TU-95's design was, inter-alia, notable for being one of the few propeller-driven aircraft with swept wings and is the only one ever to enter large-scale production.  It's also very loud, the tips of those counter-rotating propellers sometimes passing through the sound barrier.

Footage of the Tsar Bomb test de-classified and released after the dissolution of the Soviet Union (1922-1991).

The Tsar Bomb was in a sense the “ultimate” evolution of the centuries long history of the bomb although it wasn’t the end of innovation, designers seemingly never running out of ideas to refine the concept of the device, the purpose of which is to (1) blow stuff up and (2) kill people.  Bomb was from the French bombe, from the Italian bomba, from the Latin bombus (a booming sound), from the Ancient Greek βόμβος (bómbos) (booming, humming, buzzing), the explosive imitative of the sound itself.  Bomb was used originally of “projectiles; mortar shells etc”, the more familiar “explosive device placed by hand or dropped from airplane” said by many sources to date from 1908 although the word was in the former sense used when describing the anarchist terrorism of the late nineteenth century.  As a footnote, the nickname of Hugh Trenchard (1873-1956), the first Marshal of the Royal Air Force (RAF) was “boom” but this was related to his tone of voice rather than an acknowledgement of him being one of the earliest advocates of strategic bombing.

The figurative uses were wide, ranging from “a dilapidated car” (often as “old bomb”, the use based presumably on the perception such vehicles are often loud).  The bombshell was originally literally a piece of military equipment but it was later co-opted (most memorably as “blonde bombshell) to describe a particularly fetching young women.  So, used figuratively, “bomb” could mean either “very bad” or “very good” and in his weekly Letter from American (broadcast by the BBC World Service 1946-2004), Alistair Cooke (1908–2004) noted a curious trans-Atlantic dichotomy.  In the world of showbiz, Cooke observed, “bomb” was used in both the US & UK to describe the reaction to a play, movie or whatever but in the US, if called “a bomb”, the production was a flop, a failure whereas in the UK, if something was called “quite a bomb”, it meant it was a great success.

I Know Who Killed Me (2007)

I Know Who Killed Me bombed (in the traditional US sense) but in the way these things sometimes happen, the film has since enjoyed a second life with a cult-following and screenings on the specialized festival circuit.  Additionally, DVD & Blu-Ray sales (it's said to be a popular, if sometimes ironic, gift) meant eventually it generated a profit although it has never exactly become a "bomb" (in the UK sense).  However, while it now enjoys a following among a small sub-set of the public, the professional critics have never softened their view.

Shturmovik

Shturmovik (pronounced sturm-oh-vic)

The Russia word used to mean “Ground Attack Aircraft”.

1939-1941: From the Cyrillic штурмовик (shturmovík) which in English is written sometimes as the simplified (phonetic) Stormovik or Sturmovik.  The word is a shortened form of Bronirovanni Shturmovik (Bsh) (armed stormtrooper) and was the generic term in Russia for aircraft designed for this role; in English it was a synecdoche for the Ilyushin Il-2.

A flight of Ilyushin Il-2s.

The definitive Shturmovik was the Илью́шин Ил-2 (Ilyushin Il-2), a remarkable platform which provided a template for future airframes of its type.  Over 36,000 were produced, an all-time record for combat aircraft and one more impressive still if the 7000-odd of its closely related successor (Ilyushin Il-10) are included, the family total thus close to 43,000.  Although not as ascetically unhappy as the infamously ungainly French bombers of the era, the Il-2 was not a delicate, elegant thing in the style of something like the Supermarine Spitfire or a muscular form like the North American P-51 Mustang and one popular nickname adopted by the Soviet infantry viewing from below was “hunchback” although those better acquainted with its construction and purpose preferred “Flying Tank”.

The idea of “flying tank” is a useful one to explore.  Many theorists in the early 1930s had advocated the use of low-altitude aircraft, flying at relatively slow speeds as the most effective weapon which could deliver ordinance with sufficient accuracy to neutralize tanks and other armored vehicles in battlefield conditions.  That implied the need for an airframe to both carry heavy weaponry and sufficient armor to resist attack from the ground and air, a combination judged impossible to produce because the engines at the time lack the power needed for such heavy machine.  The engines did during the 1930s became more powerful but the conceptual breakthrough was in the design of the airframe.  Previously, designers had done essentially what the nineteenth century naval architects did to make the early “ironclads”: attach additional metal plates over an existing lightweight structure.  Even at sea that limited performance but did (for a while) make the craft close to impregnable; it couldn’t however produce a military aircraft with its need for specific performance over different ranges.  The solution was to make the armor an integral part of the shell, protecting the crew, engine and fuel tank, the weight of this central unit some 700 kg (1540 lb), a number offset by not having also to support the weight of a conventional fuselage, the steel part of that having little supporting structure inside, the armor used as a structural member.  It was an approach which in the post-war years would be implemented in cars as the “safety-cell”, the central passenger compartment onto which the other components would be added.

Ilyushin Il-2 with 37 mm ShFK-37 cannons.

Early in July 1941, some two weeks into Operation Barbarossa (the Nazi invasion of the Soviet Union), the Wehrmacht (the German armed forces) first became aware of the Shturmovik which initially they compared to the Luftwaffe’s (the German air force) Junkers Ju 87 (Stuka) dive-bomber which had been such an effective ground-forces support weapon in the conquest of Poland and then Western Europe, its limitations not exposed until it was deployed in the early days of the Battle of Britain (July-October 1940).  The Ju 87 could support a heavier bomb-load than the Il-2 but, equipped with automatic cannons, rockets, machine guns, and bombs, the Russian aircraft was much more lethal.  The Germans however quickly identified the weak points and that most had been rushed into service with pilots provided with neither adequate training or the tactics needed to protect each other in flight, especially during attacking runs.  Moreover, they lacked the optical sights needed accurately to aim their weapons and while the thick armor surrounded the pilot and engine, the structure behind the cockpit was plywood, highly susceptible to damage (tail-gunners suffered a death rate seven times that of the pilots because the gunner’s portion of the airframe was mostly of plywood).

Literally hundreds of Il-2s were lost to anti-aircraft fire or attacks by fighters, usually from the rear during bombing runs but, defying the expectations had infected the highest levels of the German political and military command, the Soviets were able to make good their losses of Shturmoviks and pilots, just as they were able to re-equip armored divisions with tanks, exceeding the capacity of the Germans ability to destroy formations.  As the war proceeded, the Shturmoviks increasingly came in waves and although the attrition remained high (the losses at a rate other allied forces would never have countenanced), the sheer weight of numbers meant the Soviets could overwhelm what were increasingly numerically inferior formations.  Noting the robustness of the Il-2, the Germans nicknamed them Betonflugzeug (concrete plane), acknowledging the ability to absorb punishment; others preferred Der Schwarze Tod (the Black Death).  The ability of the Soviet industrial machine to first maintain and later vastly increase production of things like aircraft and tanks was because of decisions taken by the Germans during the 1930s which afforded priority to create an air-force best suited to supporting brief, high-intensity conflicts (which came to be known as blitzkrieg (lightning war), thus the mass-production of small dive-bombers, medium-range light bombers and fighters rather than long-range strategic, heavy bombers.  As the Soviets moved their plant & equipment eastward (itself a remarkable achievement), the factories became immune from air attack as they were beyond the range of the Luftwaffe.  However, as the German advance stalled, production in Moscow resumed, increasing the available numbers and innovations appeared, one prototype even tested with a flame-thrower mounted in the nose.

Red Army Air Force Yakovlev Yak 9B dropping PTABs.

Another innovation first delivered by the Shturmovik was the Protivo-Tankovaya Avia Bomba (Anti-Tank Air-Bomb; the PTAB), one of the predecessors of modern cluster munitions and similar in concept to the contemporary German two-kilogram Sprengbombe Dickwandig (SD-2) (butterfly-bomb).  In Mid-1943, knowing the Wehrmacht’s Unternehmen Zitadelle (Operation Citadel) against Soviet forces in the Kursk salient was imminent, the Russians stockpiled the PTABs, producing almost a million of the 2 Kg devices, designed specifically so a Shturmovik could carry almost 200, each with a “shaped charge” warhead able to penetrate the armor of even the best protected tanks.  The battle of Kursk (July 1943) was the biggest tank engagement ever fought and for days some 8000 tanks (3000 German, 5000 Soviet) ranged around a vast battlefield of swirling heat, dust and death and although visibility at times restricted the use of air-power, the PTAB equipped Shturmoviks damaged or immobilized a verified 419 enemy vehicles.

RAF Hawker Hurricane IID with a 40mm Vickers anti-tank cannon fitted under each wing.  The pilots noted the "tank buster" moniker but preferred "Flying Can Openers".

The Shturmovik concept was quickly adopted by other air forces and one was rapidly improvised by the UK’s Royal Air Force to counter the threat posed by tanks in the North African campaign.  By 1941 it was apparent the Hawker Hurricane was no longer suitable in its original role as an interceptor and fighter but it was a robust, reliable and easily serviced platform and it proved adaptable to the ground attack role.  By early 1942 deliveries had begun of the Mark IID Hurricane and equipped with a pair of under-wing mounted 40mm (1.6 inch) canon, it proved an effective counter to the Africa Corps’ tanks in the Western Desert as well as fulfilling a similar role in the Burma theatre against the even more vulnerable Japanese armor; in both places they were dubbed, with some accuracy: “tank busters”.  The effect of the 40 mm canons was such that when fired, they perceptibly slowed the plane in flight but pilots learned techniques to compensate.  So convincing were the results that a generation of heavy fighters either designed for or able to be adapted for the purpose, Hawker’s Typhoon & Tempest and Republic’s huge P-47 Thunderbolt all as famed as “tank busters” as for any other part they played in the war, especially noted for their role in the development of air-to-ground rockets.

Lindsay Lohan in body armor.

Despite progress, notably the use of UAVs (unmanned aerial vehicles, often casually referred to as “drones”) Shturmoviks have remained an important component of military inventories and some years after the end of the First Gulf War (1990-1991), one of the first conspiracy theories to appear on the then novel WorldWideWeb concerned them.  It was claimed a study the Pentagon conducted (using as targets Iraqi tanks abandoned in the Kuwaiti desert) concluded blocks of concrete dropped from aircraft were just as accurate as bombs as well as being cheaper and easier to produce, while equally effective in disabling a tank.  The conspiracy theory claimed that suggestions the concept be pursued was vetoed by the “military-industrial complex” which made much money out of building anti-tank bombs.

Pavlova

Pavlova (pronounced pav-luh-vuh, pahv-loh-vuh, pav-luh-vuh or pah-vluh-vuh (Russian)).

A meringue cake, topped typically with whipped cream and fruit or confections.

Circa 1930: Named after Russian ballet ballerina Anna (pronounced ah-nuh) Pavlova (1885-1931).  Pavlova is a transliteration of the Russian surname Па́влова (Pávlova), the feminine variant of Па́влов (Pávlov).  Pavlova is a noun (pav the usual contraction); the noun plural is pavlovas.

Julia from Pampered Menial (1975) by Pavlov’s Dog.

Although coined at much the same time, the adjective Pavlovian is unrelated Ms Pavlova or meringue cakes.  It refers to the theories & experimental work of Russian physiologist Ivan Petrovich Pavlov (Ива́н Петро́вич Па́влов; 1849-1936), especially in connection with the conditioned salivary reflexes of dogs in response to the mental stimulus of the sound of a bell (in the West, his work was in 1911 originally referred to as the “Pavloff method” because of a misunderstanding by editors).  His work was a landmark in experimental behavioralism, inducing a dog associatively to link a biologically potent stimulus (food) with a previously neutral stimulus (a bell).  The phrase “Pavlov’s dog” entered English to describe a conditioned response (reacting to a situation on the basis of taught behavior rather than reflectively).  One interesting aspect of comrade Pavlov’s career is that he made no secret of his opposition to many aspects of communism in the Soviet state built by comrade Stalin (1878–1953; leader of the USSR 1922-1953), on occasions making his views plain even to the general secretary himself.  Despite that, no action appears ever to have been taken against him and after he died (at 86 of natural causes), he was granted a grand funeral.

Anna Pavlova with Jack.

Anna Pavlova was famous for her interpretation of The Dying Swan, a solo dance choreographed by Mikhail Fokine (1880-1942) to Camille Saint-Saëns's (1835-1921) Le Cygne (The Swan) from Le Carnaval des animaux (The Carnival of the Animals (1922)), commissioned as a pièce d'occasion (an artistic work produced for a special event) for the ballerina who performed it on some 4000 occasions.  It's a short, intense piece which follows the last moments of a swan.  Ms Pavlova for years kept a pet swan called Jack.

New Zealand is a small country in the remote South Pacific which has over the years produced some notable figures such as (1) Lord Rutherford (1871–1937) who, although a physicist who regarded other branches of science as mere forms of engineering which worked within the laws of physics, was awarded the 1908 Nobel Prize in chemistry and is most remembered for his work which led to the atom being split in 1932, (2) Sir Edmund Hillary (1919–2008) who, with the Sherpa mountaineer Tenzing Norgay (1914–1986), was the first to ascend Mount Everest and (3) Sir David Low (1891–1963) who was among the most noted and prolific political cartoonists between the troubled 1930s and the early Cold War years.  The country has also for more than a century fielded what has been usually the world’s most successful rugby union side (the recent inconsistency of the All Blacks not withstanding) and memories are long, the try disallowed by a Scottish referee in a 1905 test against Wales at Cardiff Arms Park still a sore point.

Mango, passion fruit & limoncello pavlova.

Less bitter but no less contested than the matter of the disallowed try is the origin of the Pavlova, the invention of which is claimed by both Australia and New Zealand.  What all agree is the cake is a mixture of egg whites and sugar, topped usually with cream and fresh fruit, named after the Russian ballerina Anna Pavlova who toured both countries during the 1920s.  Researchers on both sides of the Tasman Sea (referred to by locals as “the ditch”) have long trawled cook books and newspapers to find the earliest entry but according to the Oxford English Dictionary (OED), New Zealand appears to hold the evidential advantage, a recipe from there having been verified as published in 1927 while the oldest claimed entry from Australia dates from 1935.  That however resolves only the use of Ms Pavlova’s name as the description, pastry chefs adding cream to meringue known even in the nineteenth century and the 1927 recipe in the book Davis Dainty Dishes, published by the Davis Gelatine company, was a multi-colored jelly concoction.  New Zealand’s historians of food concede the culinary point but cite recipes from 1928 & 1929 which are definitely of meringue, cream and fruit.  Strangely perhaps, the OED remained on the lexicographical fence, listing the origin as an ambiguous "Austral. and N.Z."

Espresso martini pavlova

Preparation: 1 hour

Cooking: 2 hours:

Serves: 10-12

Ingredients

8 egg whites
Pinch of cream of tartar
1 tablespoon ground coffee powder
430 gm (2 cups) caster sugar
2 tablespoons of corn-flour
1 teaspoon white vinegar
600 ml (l carton) thickened cream
125 ml (½ cup) coffee liqueur
2 teaspoons cocoa powder
Chocolate-coated coffee beans (to decorate)
Dark chocolate curls (to decorate)
Coffee vodka syrup
2 tablespoons vodka
2 teaspoons arrowroot
100 grams (½ cup, firmly packed) brown sugar
125 ml (½ cup) prepared espresso coffee

Instructions

(1) Preheat oven to 120^oC (100 ^oC fan forced) (250^oF (210 ^oF fan forced).  Draw a 200 mm (8 inch) circle on 2 sheets of baking paper.  Place each sheet, marked side down, on a baking tray.

(2) Use an electric beater with a whisk attachment to whisk the egg whites and cream of tartar in a clean dry bowl until firm peaks form.  Gradually whisk in the coffee powder.  Add the sugar, 1 tablespoon at a time, whisking constantly until the sugar dissolves and the mixture is thick and glossy.  Beat in the corn-flour and vinegar.

(3) Divide meringue mixture among the 2 marked circles on the prepared trays. Use a palette knife to spread mixture into 2 evenly shaped discs.  Bake for 2 hours or until meringues are dry and crisp.  Turn off oven. Leave meringues in the oven, with the door slightly ajar, until cooled completely.

(4) Meanwhile, to make the coffee vodka syrup, combine the vodka and arrowroot in a small bowl.  Combine the sugar and coffee in a small saucepan.  Bring to the boil over high heat, stirring, until the sugar dissolves. Reduce heat and simmer for 3 minutes or until the syrup has thickened slightly.  Stir in the vodka mixture and return to the boil, boiling for 1 minute or until thickened.  Remove from heat and transfer to a small bowl and set aside to cool.  Place in the fridge until required.

(5) Use electric beaters to beat the cream in a bowl until soft peaks form. Beat in the coffee liqueur and cocoa until firm peaks form.

(6) Place 1 pavlova disc on a serving plate. Top with half the cream mixture. Drizzle with a little coffee vodka syrup. Scatter with coffee beans and chocolate curls.  Repeat with the remaining disc, cream mixture, syrup, coffee beans and chocolate curls.  Serve.

Auckland Airport, New Zealand, December 2023.