Showing posts sorted by relevance for query harbinger. Sort by date Show all posts
Showing posts sorted by relevance for query harbinger. Sort by date Show all posts

Friday, May 10, 2024

Harbinger

Harbinger (pronounced hahr-bin-jer)

(1)  A person who goes ahead and makes known the approach of another; a herald (obsolete).

(2) An inn-keeper (obsolete)

(3) A person sent in advance of troops, a royal train, etc to provide or secure lodgings and other accommodations (obsolete).

(4) Anything that foreshadows a future event; omen; sign.

1125–1175: From the late Middle English herbenger, a nasalized variant of the Middle English herbegere, a dissimilated variant of Old French herberg(i)ere (host; lodging), the more common variant of which was herberg(ier) (to shelter).  In English, the late fifteenth century meaning and spelling was herbengar (one sent ahead to arrange lodgings (for a monarch, an army etc)), an alteration of the late twelfth century Middle English herberger (provider of shelter, innkeeper), from the Old French herbergeor (one who offers lodging, innkeeper) from herbergier (provide lodging), from herber (lodging, shelter), from the Frankish heriberga (lodging, inn (literally “army shelter”))from the Germanic compound harja-bergaz (shelter, lodgings), related was the Old Saxon and Old High German heriberga (army shelter) from heri (army) + berga (shelter) which is the root also of the modern harbor.  Origin of the Frankish heriberga was the Proto-Germanic harjaz (army) + bergô (protection).  Related were the German herberge, the Italian albergo, and the Dutch herberg.  The sense of "forerunner; that which precedes and gives notice of the coming of another" developed in the mid-sixteenth century while the intrusive (and wholly unetymological) -n- is from the fifteenth century.  Use as a verb began in the 1640s; to harbinge (to lodge) was first noted in the late fifteenth century.

Harbinger of Autumn (1922) by Paul Klee (1879-1940), watercolor and pencil on paper bordered with watercolor and pen, mounted on card, Yale University Art Gallery.

Death and Destruction

The original, late medieval, meaning of harbinger was “lodging-house keeper”, one who harbors people for the night, the word derived from harbourer or, as it was then spelled herberer or herberger.  Herberer derives from the French word for inn (auberge) and “Ye herbergers…” are referred to as the hotel managers of their day in the Old English text The Lambeth Homilies, circa 1175.  By the thirteenth century, harbinger had shifted meaning, referring now to a scout who went ahead of a military formation or royal court to book lodgings and meals for the oncoming horde.  This is the source of the modern meaning of “an advance messenger” that we understand now, Geoffrey Chaucer (circa 1344-1400) apparently the first to adopt the form in The Man of Law's Tale (circa 1386):

The fame anon thurgh toun is born
How Alla kyng shal comen on pilgrymage,
By herbergeours that wenten hym biforn

A modern translation of which is:

The news through all the town was carried,
How King Alla would come on pilgrimage,
By harbingers that went before him

In Modern English, harbinger exists only in a metaphorical sense meaning forerunner or announcer.  In the narrow technical sense, almost anything can be harbingered; a warm day in late winter can be a harbinger of spring but popular use, in this gloomy age, is now almost exclusively of harbingers of pain, suffering, doom, death and destruction.

I grew. Foul weather, dreams, forebodings
Were bearing me - a Ganymede -
Away from earth; distress was growing
Like wings - to spread, to hold, to lead.
 
I grew. The veil of woven sunsets
At dusk would cling to me and swell.
With wine in glasses we would gather
To celebrate a sad farewell,
 
And yet the eagle's clasp already
Refreshes forearms' heated strain.
The days have gone, when, love, you floated
Above me, harbinger of pain.
 
Do we not share the sky, the flying?
Now, like a swan, his death-song done,
Rejoice! In triumph, with the eagle
Shoulder to shoulder, we are one.

I grew. Foul weather, dreams, forebodings… by Boris Pasternak (1890-1960).

The phrase “a crypto-fascist...harbinger of Doom” isn’t a quote from one of Gore Vidal’s (1925–2012) many thoughts on William F Buckley (1925–2008) but comes from a review by Rachel Handler (a senior editor at Vulture and New York) of Lindsay Lohan’s Netflix film Irish Wish (2024).  While it’s not unknown for reviewers to take movies seriously, it’s unlikely many rom-coms have ever been thought to demand deconstruction to reveal they’re part of a “larger sociopolitical plot to maintain the status quo, quell dissent, replace much of the workforce with AI, install a permanent Christian theocratic dictator, and make Ireland look weird for some reason.

The piece is an imposing 3½ thousand-odd words and should be read by students of language because, of its type, it’s an outstanding example but for those who consume rom-coms without a background in critical theory it may be wise first to watch the film because the review includes the plot-line.  If having watched and (sort of) enjoyed the film, one should then read the review and hopefully begin faintly to understand why one was wrong.  Ms Handler really didn’t like the thing and having already damned Ms Lohan’s first Netfix production (Falling for Christmas (2022)) as “a Dante’s Inferno-esque allegory”, she’s unlikely much to be looking forward to the promised third.  All should however hope she writes a review.

Saturday, June 20, 2026

Bellwether

Bellwether (pronounced bel-weth-er)

(1) A wether or other male sheep that leads the flock, usually bearing a bell.

(2) A person or thing that assumes the leadership or forefront, as of a profession or industry.

(3) Anything that indicates future trends (gauge, indicator, sign).

(4) As “bellwether state”, “bellwether seat” etc, an electoral division or constituency which, over a long period, has tended to predict the outcome in wider electoral contests (presidential, congressional, provincial, national etc).

(5) In finance, as “bellwether stock”, a stock or bond widely believed to be an indicator of the overall market's condition and future direction.

1400-1450: The construct was bell + wether.  The late thirteenth century word clearly existed in Anglo-Latin but in the late twelfth century it had been used as a surname.  The prevalent meaning became “lead sheep” (with a collar on which a bell was hung) of a domesticated flock, while the figurative sense (leader, chief) dates from the mid-fourteenth century.  Used in its original sense (a sheep with a bell attached to a collar), bellwether has no synonyms but they do exist when the term figuratively is applied (a person or thing that shows the existence or direction of a trend; index), including trendsetter, trailblazer, front runner, pacesetter, leader, omen, gauge, indicator, sign & harbinger.  Thus in fashion, historically, the bellwether has tended variously to be what was first seen on the catwalks in Milan, Paris or London while in the years immediately after World War II (1939-1945), it was the artistic movements in New York rather than Paris that became the bellwether of global directions in the visual arts.  The alternative forms were bell-wether and (the now archaic) belwether; bellweather was a misspelling.  Bellwether is a noun; the noun plural is bellwethers.

A model in a “strapless fuchsia top and pants covered in shimmering, sculpted rose embellishments” from Rahul Mishra’s (b 1979) Haute Couture Fall/Winter 2025/2026 collection (Becoming Love), Paris Fashion Week, 2025.  Paris remains the industry’s bellwether but not everything seen on the catwalk is a harbinger.

Bell, in the sense of the percussive, hollow instrument (usually of cast or forged metal), typically cup-shaped with a flaring mouth, suspended from the vertex and rung by the strokes of a clapper, hammer, or the like (resonating upon impact producing “the sound of the bell”), was a pre-1000 word, from the Middle English belle, from the Old English belle & bellan (to roar), from the from Proto-West Germanic bellā, from the Proto-Germanic bellǭ, from the primitive Indo-European bel-; it was cognate with the West Frisian belle, the Old High German bellan, the Low German Belle & Bel, the German bellen (to bark), the Middle Dutch bellen & belen, the Old Norse belja, the Danish bjælde, the Faroese bjølla, the Icelandic bjalla, the Norwegian bjelle and the Swedish bjällra. and the Dutch bel.

Wether (originally “a castrated male sheep” but later used generally of “male sheep”) dates from pre 900 and was from the Middle English wether, wethir & wedyr, from the Old English weðer (ram), from the Middle English wether, wethir, wedyr, from Old English weþer (“a wether, ram”), from the Proto-West Germanic weþru, from the Proto-Germanic wethruz (source also of the Old Saxon wethar, the Old Norse veðr, the Old High German widar, the German Widder and the Gothic wiþrus (lamb)), literally “yearling’, from the primitive Indo-European root wet- (year), (source also of the Sanskrit vatsah (calf), the Greek etalon (yearling) and the Latin vitulus (calf, literally “yearling”); it was cognate with the Old Saxon withar, the Old High German widar, the Old Norse vethr and the Gothic withrus.  The ultimate source was the primitive Indo-European wet- (year).  The word wether came to be used both of male sheep (rams) and male goats (busks) castrated at a young age.  Usually, it’s safe practice for wethers to share paddocks or be housed with female sheep or goats, but intact rams & bucks usually are kept separately.  “Wether wool” was wool from previously shorn sheep.  The now obsolete dialectal form was wedder and in historic documents, as late as the nineteenth century wether was a (now archaic) spelling of weather.  Used as a verb, “to wether” was to castrate a male sheep or goat, the victim said to have been “wethered”.

In idiomatic use, a “bellwether state” “bellwether district” or “bellwether seat” is an electoral division or constituency which, over a long period, has tended to align with the outcome in wider electoral contests (presidential, congressional, provincial, national etc).  The classic example is the bellwether state in US presidential elections that historically votes for the winning candidate in successive elections (ie sometimes returning a Democratic and sometimes a Republican majority).  It’s an accepted part of the jargon of political science but really doesn’t adhere to the etymology of the original idea of sheep “following a leader”.  In elections, one state, district or constituency generally doesn’t “follow another” because votes tend simultaneously to be cast and although there are examples (in countries with multiple time-zones) of early results in one place become available while polling is still happening in others, (1) those results are always from a very small proportion of the vote (2) most votes in places still voting have already been cast and (3) the time overlap usually is brief.

A Lindsay Lohan-themed weathervane.

In the political context, rather than bellwether, a better term might be “weather vane”.  A weather vane is a type of anemoscope (the construct being anemo- (from the Ancient Greek ᾰ̓́νεμος (ắnemos) (wind)) + scope (from the Ancient Greek σκοπέω (skopéō) (examine, inspect, look to or into, consider)) which is an elegant description of a simple, mechanical device rotating around one axis and attached to an elevated object such as a roof.  As a weather vane responds to the wind, it rotates to show the wind direction, the letters “N”, “S”, “E” & “W” displayed on static, extended prongs indicating respectively north, south, east & west.  The term is sometimes clipped to “vane” and they’re known also as “wind vanes” and “weathercocks”, the latter use dating from so many historically being formed in the silhouette of a rooster.  The reason “weather vane” works better than “bellwether” as a word indicating “current political climate” is that there’s no suggestion the wind “follows” the vane; instead, the position of the vane simply reflects the direction in which “the wind is blowing”.  That’s why it can be used to mean (1) an indicator; something that reflects what the current situation is and (2) a person or organization that changes their attitude and position based on the prevailing conditions rather than displaying any conviction.

So while a homophone, “weather” enjoys a different meaning from “wether”.  Weather was from the Middle English weder & wedir, from the Old English weder, from the Proto-West Germanic wedr, from the Proto-Germanic wedrą, from the primitive Indo-European wedrom (to blow).  The distinction between “the weather” and “the climate” is the former is the state of the atmosphere at a specific time and place (expressed via measures such as temperature, relative humidity, cloud cover, precipitation, wind strength etc) while the latter is the weather aggregated over periods (which can be a season, year, decade, century, epoch etc) or regions.  Such is the significance of the weather that the term “the weather” can refer explicitly to its more severe aspects.  That’s how Guadalcanal's Weather Coast in the Solomon Islands gained its name; unlike the island's northern coast (site of the capital Honiara), the southern Weather Coast faces the prevailing southeast trade winds and open ocean swells.  As a result, it experiences heavier rainfall, rougher seas, flooding, and generally harsher weather; it’s literally the island’s “weather-beaten coast”.

Vane was from the Middle English vane, a Southern Middle English variant of fane, from the Old English fana (cloth, banner, flag), from the Proto-West Germanic fanō, from the Proto-Germanic fanô, from the primitive Indo-European pehn- (something woven; weave; tissue; fabric; cloth).  It was cognate with the Saterland Frisian Foone (flag, banner), the Dutch vaan (banner, flag), the German Low German Fahn (flag) and the German Fahne.  In engineering, vanes typically exist in multiples and are relatively thin, rigid, flat, or sometimes curved surfaces radially mounted along an axis; they can be slow-moving (as on a windmill) or run at very high speeds (as in turbines).  In ornithology, the vane is the flattened, web-like part of a feather, consisting of a series of barbs on either side of the shaft.

A captured German V2 rocket (1945, left) and a full-size clay mock up of a design proposal for 1961 Cadillac, General Motors Technical Center, Warren, Michigan, (1959, right).  When the V2 used as a weapon (1944-1945), the term used was "fins" but the rocket scientists of the 1950s popularized "vanes".  On the cars, it was always "fins" but the lower units (seen on Oldsmobiles in 1961 and Cadillacs in 1961-1962) informally were dubbed "skegs", a borrowing from nautical architecture.

A recent adoption of vane was to describe the guidance or stabilizing fins attached to the tail of bombs or missiles.  Fins had of course long been a feature of directional weapons (arrows the classic example) and they’d appeared on the earliest aerial bombs.  Had the convention been: “fins are static and vanes can move” that would have made sense to laypersons but that wasn’t the way the military-industrial complex used the labels which resulted in non-specialist writers sometimes using “fin” and “vane” interchangeably.  That was understandable because while in the terminology of aerodynamicists the words are not exactly synonymous, there’s enough overlap to encourage confusion.  As a general principle, the primary purpose of a fin is to act as a stabilizing surface enhancing stability, the tail fins on a bomb, artillery shell, rocket, or missile the classic examples; until relatively recently, almost always they were fixed.  By contrast, a vane is a thin blade-like aerodynamic surface that interacts with airflow; they may be static or movable and are used for stabilization, steering or control.  To engineers the distinction was significant and for others it made sense because the nerdier "vane" was for rocket scientists while fins were things Detroit was putting on Cadillacs.  That meant some vanes could move while others were fixed and were thus functionally equivalent to fins.  Except for historians of such things, any distinction probably isn’t important and the two are so entrenched in ordnance and aerospace nomenclature, they’re both here to stay; in modern use the only discernible definitional difference being some emphasis on the component’s shape rather than whether it moves.

Map of the US expressed as "Red", "Blue", "Bellwether" & "Swing" states.  The apparent red-blue dichotomy is a product of the voting system, the vote spread broadly similar to patterns in other two-party systems.

Electoral behaviour in the democracies of the English-speaking world is not as predictable as it was in the days of relatively stable two-party systems.  Even in the US where the Democratic and Republican party machines have ensured there’s something of an institutionalized duopoly, their internal fissiparousness of both (TEA (Taxed Enough Already) & MAGA (Make America Great Again) etc) has made the use of historic data less useful.  What does seem clear is among the “less useful” concepts in the US are the “bellwethers”, states or districts that historically were remarkably reliable in picking winners in national elections.  In presidential contests, some were striking in this: Nevada between 2012-2020 voted for the winner in every election (except 1976) and Missouri did the same between 1904- 2004 except in 1956.  Much maligned Ohio was once also a Bellwether; between choosing a loser in Barry Goldwater (1909–1998) in 1964 and crooked Hillary Clinton (b 1947) in 2016, Ohioans otherwise got it right.

Map of the US expressed as "Purple" states.

Political scientists explain the change by pointing out the electorate, geographically, has become much more polarized, states now increasingly sorted by education level, urbanization, ethnicity, and partisan identity.  Once consequence of this was previously competitive states can drift permanently into one party's column, thus the growing number of “Red” (Republican) and “Blue” (Democrat) states and although psephologists have published district-by-district analyses showing all states really are “shades of purple”, because of the way the electoral system works in the US, the shades don’t matter because mostly the delegates in the Electoral College are determined on “winner takes all” basis.  Thus it’s correct to speak of “red” and “blue” states and the “winner takes all” approach does distort political perceptions; were a system of proportional representation (or even a preferential system) to be adopted, the electoral outcomes would be very different on the basis of the same patterns of voting.  What this shift in behaviour has meant is political scientists tend now to focus less on the historic bellwethers and more on the “tipping-point states” (the relative handful of "swing" states which have evolved to be the most competitive and thus likely to be decisive in provides the needed Electoral College votes).  In recent elections, the tipping point states have been Michigan, Pennsylvania and Wisconsin.

Because there are more of them, in Congressional elections, the notion of “bellwether districts” remains more useful but even there it has become diluted.  Historically, there were literally dozens of House districts that routinely elected a representative from whichever party won the national House vote and in a real (ie statistically verifiable) sense such districts really did reflected “the median American voter”, a concept now less identifiable.  What has happened is that the forces of geographic polarization, partisan realignment, residential self-sorting and the decline of split-ticket voting means the number of genuine bellwether districts dramatically has shrunk, a stark change from the trend first identified in the late 1990s of the number of “safe seats” decreasing.  Concurrent with that has been the movement in the number of House districts carried by one presidential candidate but represented by the other party in Congress.  In the 1970s and 1980s there were hundreds of such mismatches while today there are but a handful with many congressional districts effectively “safe” for one party or the other; now it’s only “reprehensible or extraordinary circumstances” (they can be local or national) likely to shift things.  While it’s true there are a small number of competitive districts (in Arizona, Georgia, Pennsylvania and Michigan) that have in recent elections been reliable bellwethers, there seems among political scientists little confidence these can be guaranteed to maintain the pattern.  The bellwethers “happened” because there was for at least decades a large “middle ground” of persuadable “swing voters” distributed throughout the country but modern American (and this predates Donald Trump (b 1946; POTUS 2017-2021 and since 2025) who does get blamed for much) politics increasingly is characterized by semi-stable partisan coalitions and fewer swing voters.  So, “bellwethers” are now quite likely to be temporary coincidences rather than a durable phenomenon so the predictive power of the concept is now much weaker.

1968 Holden HK Monaro GTS 327.

The In Australian federal elections, the seat most recently dubbed a “bellwether” was the NSW (New South Wales) division of Eden Monaro (established in 1900), its good burghers for four decades reliability voting for the party destined to take office.  Between 1972-2013, Eden-Monaro was won by the party winning the general election and in another quirk unusual over such a long period (and uniquely among Australia’s historic bellwethers), none of the sitting members retired, resigned or had the decency to drop dead; all were defeated on polling day.  The Monaro region lies in what was the traditional country of the Ngarigo people and “Monaro” was said to be was from the Aboriginal word maneroo, most often translated as meaning “treeless plain”, “high plain” or “high plateau” although the APH (Parliamentary Handbook of the Commonwealth of Australia) lists the alternative etymology as an “Aboriginal word meaning 'the navel' or 'a woman's breasts'.

Marlboro cigarette magazine advertisement, 1967.  There was a time when such imagery was thought "positive product association".

In the early years of colonial settlement, the word often was spelled “Manaro” but the pronunciation is believed always to have been me-nair-oh.  Despite that long history, when in 1968 GMH (General Motors Holdens, GM’s local operation) introduced the Monaro, the pronunciation used was mon-ah-ro and that was attributed to events far away.  The choice of name is attributed to one of GMH’s technical designers in 1967 driving through Cooma and seeing the sign “Monaro County Council”.  At the time, there had been no decision about a name for the new Holden coupé (the body style a first for the company) and what appealed to the designer was (1) the sign reminding him of the famous “Marlboro Country” cigarette advertisements (then much admired) and (2) the obvious similarity with “Camaro”, the “pony car” introduced that year by Chevrolet as a competitor for Ford’s wildly successful Mustang.  Apparently, when “Monaro” was suggested as a name, instead of a committee being formed in the usual corporate way, so things could be “discussed”, immediately the name was adopted.  Although the Camaro (pronounced kam-ah-ro) wasn’t then sold in the Australian market, it had been well-publicized so Holden taking advantage of the “linguistic association” was not surprising.

1967 Chevrolet Camaro RS-SS 396.

That was a decision more quickly made than the process at Chevrolet which produced Camaro which emerged from a committee after the alternatives had been considered and discarded.  These days, conjuring up novel words for products (as well as product differentiation it avoids any legal squabbles) is common but in the mid-1960s, GM must not have wanted to risk being accused of linguistic impurity so told the press there was an entry in a (very) old French-English dictionary defining camaro as “companion”. “comrade” or “friend”.  Mischievously, Ford retaliated with a more recent Spanish dictionary in which a camaro was listed as a “small shrimp-like creature”, provoking Chevrolet into responding that a camaro was “a small, vicious animal that eats Mustangs”.  In the same era, that carnivorous notion really was the basis of the name of the de Tomaso Mangusta (Mongoose, 1967-1971), chosen after Alejandro de Tomaso (1928-2003) and Carroll Shelby (1923–2012) had a falling out, explained by the mongoose being a beast famous for hunting and killing cobras.  Unfortunately, the legend about the origin of the Camaro’s name is thought a myth, Chevrolet just “making it up” at a time when the company was using model names starting with “C” (Corvair, Corvette, Chevelle, Caprice) and the story of a journalist unearthing yet another dictionary that disclosed the definition “loose bowels” wholly is a myth.

Thursday, September 23, 2021

Fate

Fate (pronounced feyt)

(1) That which unavoidably befalls a person; their fortune or “lot in life”.

(2) The universal principle or ultimate agency by which the order of things is presumably prescribed; the decreed cause of events; time.

(3) That which is inevitably predetermined; the inevitable fortune that befalls a person or thing; destiny; the ultimate agency which predetermines the course of events.

(4) A prophetic declaration of what must be.

(5) A common term for death, destruction, downfall or ruin; a calamitous or unfavorable outcome or result.

(6) The end or final result (usually in the form “the fate of”).

(7) In Classical Mythology, as “the Fates”, the three goddesses of destiny (Clotho, Lachesis & Atropos), known to the Greeks as the Moerae and to the Romans as the Parcae.

(8) To predetermine, as by the decree of fate; destine (used in the passive and usually in the form “fated to”).

(9) In biochemistry, the products of a chemical reaction in their final form in the biosphere.

(10) In biology, as fate map, a diagram of an embryo of some organism showing the structures that will develop from each part.

(11) In embryology, the mature endpoint of a region, group of cells or individual cell in an embryo, including all changes leading to that mature endpoint (the developmental pathway).

1325–1375: From the Middle English fate (“one's lot or destiny; predetermined course of life” or “one's guiding spirit”), from the Old French fate, from the Latin fātum (oracular utterance; what has been spoken, utterance, decree of fate, destiny), originally the neuter of fātus (spoken), past participle of fārī (to speak), from the primitive Indo-European root bha- (to speak, tell, say).  The Latin fata (prediction (and the source of the Spanish hado, the Portuguese fado and the Italian fato)) was the plural of fatum (prophetic declaration of what must be; oracle; prediction), from fātus (“spoken”), from for (to speak) and in this sense it displaced the native Old English wyrd (ultimate source of the modern English weird).  When a Roman Emperor said “I have spoken” it meant his words had become law, subject only to the dictates of the gods, a notion in 1943 formalized in law in Nazi Germany when a decree of the Führer was declared to be beyond any legal challenge.

In Latin, the usual sense was “that which is ordained, destiny, fate”, literally “that which was spoken (by the gods) and often was used in some bad or negative way, (typically as some kind of harbinger of doom) and this association with “bad luck, ill fortune; mishap, ruin; pestilence or plague” carried over into Medieval Latin and from there to many European languages including English.  From the early fifteenth century it became more nuanced, picking up the sense of “the power or guiding force which rules destinies, agency which predetermines events” (often expressed to mean a “supernatural predetermination” and presented sometimes as “destiny personified”.  The meaning “that which must be” was first documented in the 1660s and that led (inevitability as it were) to the modern sense of “final event”, dating from 1768.   The Latin sense evolution came from “sentence of the Gods” (theosphaton in the Greek) to “lot, portion” (moira in the Greek, personified as a goddess in Homer; moirai from a verb meaning “to receive one's share”).  The Latin Parca (one of the three Fates or goddesses of fate) was the source of the French parque (a fate) and the Spanish parca (Death personified; the Grim Reaper) and may be from parcere (act sparingly, refrain from; have mercy upon, forbear to injure or punish (which etymologists suspect was a euphemism) or plectere (to weave, plait).  The Moerae (the Greek plural) or the Parcre (the Roman plural) were the three goddesses who determined the course of a human life (sometimes poetically put as “the three ladies of destiny”) and were part of English literature by the 1580s).  Clotho held the distaff or spindle; Lachesis drew out the thread and Atropos snipped it off, the three goddesses controlling the destinies of all.

The verb in the sense of “to preordain as if by fate; to be destined by fate” was first used in the late sixteenth century and was from the noun; two centuries earlier the verb had meant “to destroy”.  The adjective fateful dates from the 1710s and was from the noun, the meaning “of momentous consequences” noted early in the nineteenth century and both “fateful & “fatefully” were used by poets of the Romantic era with the meaning “having the power to kill” which belong usually to “fatal”, the attraction being the words better suited the cadence of the verse.  Just as the noun fate enjoyed some broadening and divergences in its meanings, other adjectival use emerged including fated from the 1720s which meant “doomed” (and “destined to follows a certain course” & “set aside by fate”), fatiferous (deadly, mortal) from the 1650s (from the Latin fatifer (death-bringing) and the early seventeenth century fatific & fatifical (having the power to foretell) from the Latin fatidicus (prophetic).  Fate is a noun & verb; fatalism, fatefulness & fatalist are nouns, fated & fating are verbs, fatalistic & fateful are adjectives and fatalistically & fatefully are adverbs, the noun plural is fates.

Fate has in English evolved to enjoy specific meanings and there’s really no exact synonym but the words destiny, karma, kismet; chance, luck, doom, fortune, lot, foreordain, preordain & predestination are related in sense while the antonyms (with a similarly vague relationship) include choice, free will, freedom & chance.  The idiomatic phrases using “fate” includes “as fate would have it” (the same meaning as “as luck would have it”, an allusion to the randomness of events and how so much good fortune in life is a matter of chance”; fate-fraught or fatefraught (fateful), quirk of fate (same as “quirk of fate”, a usually unfortunate (often ironic) change of circumstances or turn of events; seal someone's fate (to prevent (a decision, event, etc.) from being influenced or changed by a wilful act; to pre-empt someone's future actions by deciding the course of events ahead of time); sure as fate (with certainty); tempt fate (to court disaster; to take an extreme list); fate worse than death (which can be used literally (eg being sent to the Gulag in comrade Stalin’s time was often described thus on the basis a quick death was better than a slow one or the phrase “the living will envy the dead”, used often of those imagined to have survived a nuclear war) or figuratively (eg “going to a country & western concert is a fate worse than death” although that one may not be too far from literal.  The words “fate”, “destiny” & “doom” all relate to the hand of fortune (usually in the adverse) that is predetermined and inescapable and although they’re often used interchangeably, there are nuances: Fate stresses the irrationality and impersonal character of events; the randomness of what happens in the universe.  Destiny emphasizes the idea of an unalterable course of events, and is used of outcomes good and bad but rarely of the indifferent.  Doom is unambiguously always something bad, especially if final and terrible.  Doom may be brought about by fate or destiny or it may be something all our own fault.

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

Many notable political and military leaders like to damn the hand of fate when it doesn’t favour them but the word is often invoked when things look good.  In July 1939, the vice-chief of staff of the Imperial Japanese Army (Lieutenant General Shigeru Sawada (1887–1980)), impressed by the dynamism of the fascist states in Europe declared : “We should resolve to share our fate with Germany and Italy”.  In that he was of course prophetic although the fate of the three Axis powers a few years on wasn’t what he had in mind.  By 1939 however, things in Tokyo had assumed a momentum which was hard for anyone in the Japanese military or political establishment to resist although there were statesmen aware they were juggling in their hands the fate of the nation.  Yōsuke Matsuoka (1880–1946; Japanese foreign minister 1940-1941), almost as soon as the signatures has been added to the Japanese-German Anti-Comintern Pact (1936) observed: “It is characteristic of the Japanese race that, once we have promised to cooperate, we never look back or enter into an alliance with others.  It is for us only to march side by side, resolved to go forward together, even if it means committing double suicide”.  Even by the standards of oriental fatalism that was uncompromising and Matsuoka san probably reflected on his words in the days after the attack on Pearl Harbor (7 December 1941) when he lamented: “Entering into the Tripartite Pact was the mistake of my life.  Even now I still keenly feel it. Even my death won't take away this feeling.”

In the Western philosophical tradition, the difference between fatalism and determinism is sometimes misunderstood.  In essence, what fatalism says is that one does not act as one wills but only in the pre-ordained way because everything is pre-ordained.  Determinism says one can act as one wills but that will is not of one’s own will; it is determined by an interplay of antecedents, their interaction meaning there is no choice available to one but the determine course.  So, fatalism decrees there is an external power which irresistibly dictates all while determinism is less assertive; while there are sequences of cause and effect which act upon everything, they would be ascertainable only to someone omniscient.  That’s something to explore in lecture halls but not obviously of much use in other places but the more important distinction is probably that determinism is an intellection position that can be mapped onto specific situations (technological determinism; political determinism; structural determinism etc) where as fatalism, ultimately, is the world view that would should abandon all hope of influencing events and thus repudiate any responsibility for one’s actions.  Determinism is a philosophy, fatalism a faith.

Monday, March 18, 2024

Impeach

Impeach (pronounced im-peech)

(1) To accuse (a public official) before an appropriate tribunal of misconduct in office.

(2) In law, as “to impeach a witness”; to demonstrate in court that a testimony under oath contradicts another testimony from the same person, usually one taken during deposition.

(3) To bring an accusation against; to call in question; cast an imputation upon:

(4) In British criminal law, to accuse of a crime, especially of treason or some other offence against the state

(5) In the US and some other jurisdictions, to charge (a public official) with an offence committed in office.

(6) To hinder, impede, or prevent (archaic).

(7) To call to account (now rare).

1350–1400: From the Middle English empechen & enpeshen, from the Anglo-French empecher (to hinder) from the Old French empeechier from the Late Latin impedicāre (to fetter, trap, entangle or catch), the construct being im- + pedic(a) (a fetter (derivative of pēs (foot))) + -ā- (a thematic vowel) + -re (the Latin infinitive suffix) and cognate with French empêcher (to prevent); The most usual Latin forms were impedicō & impedicāre.  Impeach is a verb, impeachment & impeachability &  are nouns, impeaching & impeached are verbs and impeachable & impeachmentworthy are adjectives (although not all authorities acknowledge the latter as a standard form); the noun plural is impeachments.

An English import the Americans made their own 

Although most associated with the US where the constitution permits the House of Representatives to impeach government officials (most notably the president) and send them for trial in the Senate, the concept of impeachment is a borrowing from the procedures of the UK Parliament.  Always a rare mechanism, impeachment was first used in England in 1376 with the last UK case in 1806 and while technically extant, is probably obsolete although it’s not unknown for relics of the UK’s long legal past occasionally to be resuscitated.  What is more likely is that matters once dealt with by impeachment would now be brought before a court although most historians and constitutional lawyers seem to believe it remains part of UK constitutional law and abolition would demand legislation.  That was exactly what select committees recommended in 1967 and again ten years later but nothing was done and despite the New Labour government (1997-2010) imposing some quite radical structural changes on the legal system, the mechanism of impeachment remained untouched.  In September 2019, it was reported that opposition politicians in the House of Commons were considering impeachment proceedings against Boris Johnson (b 1964; UK prime-minister 2019-2022) "on charges of gross misconduct in relation to the unlawful prorogation of parliament", as well as his threat to break the law by failing to comply with the European Union (Withdrawal) (No. 2) Act 2019 (which required the prime-minister in certain circumstances to seek an extension to the Brexit withdrawal date of 31 October 2019).  Mr Johnson survived that one though it proved a temporary reprieve for his premiership.

Although the Sturm und Drang of Donald Trump’s (b 1946; US president 2017-2021) unprecedented two impeachments was entertaining for political junkies, as a spectacle the two trials were muted affairs because the verdicts were both predictable.  Under the US Constitution, the House of Representatives has the “sole Power of Impeachment” (essentially a form of indictment in other proceedings) while the Senate is vested with “the sole Power to try all Impeachments”.  An act of impeachment requires only a majority vote on the floor of a House but conviction in the Senate demand “the concurrence of two thirds of the members present”.  Given the numbers and the state of partisan which these days characterizes the two-party system, nobody in Washington DC believed there was even a vague prospect of Mr Trump being convicted.  Still, the dreary, confected, set-piece speeches on both sides were like slabs of raw meat thrown to the attack dogs watching Fox News and NBC so in that sense it was a kind of substitute for what the Founding Fathers might have hoped would have been the standard of debate in the Congress, 250-odd years on.  In an ominous sign, the Republicans have since made attempts to stage a retaliatory impeachment trial of Joe Biden (b 1942; US president since 2021) despite knowing there is no prospect of a conviction.  Political scientists have expressed concern this may be a harbinger of something like the situation is some countries (such as Pakistan & Bangladesh (the old West & East Pakistan)) where it is almost a form of ritualized revenge to pursue one's predecessor through the courts, jailing them if possible.  The hope is that such a culture might be peculiar to the Trump era and something less confrontation might emerge when he leaves the stage although, what he has threatened in a second term does sound like he has vengeance on his mind.

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

The best impeachment in the US was the one which never was, the one Richard Nixon (1913-1994; US president 1969-1974) avoided by resigning the presidency on 9 August 1974.  That an impeachment became inevitable was Nixon’s own fault.  The evidence of those acts of Nixon which met the standard of “Treason, Bribery, or other high Crimes and Misdemeanors.” existed only on the tapes which came to the knowledge of those investigating the White House’s involvement in the Watergate affair only through a chance remark by an aide; prior to that the existence of the president’s recording mechanism had been restricted to a small circle around Nixon.  There was a wealth of other material which hinted or suggested there may have been unlawful acts by Nixon but what was lacking was what came to be called the “smoking gun”, the undeniable proof.  That proof was on the tapes and as soon as knowledge of them became public, Nixon should have destroyed them and the ways and means existed close to home.  Even in oppressively hot Washington summers, Nixon would have the air-conditioning turned high to provide a wintery ambiance and have a log fire burning in the fireplace, close to which he would sit while writing his noted on yellow legal pads; it was a lifelong habit.

Washington Post 7 August 1974.

The tapes should have been tossed into that fire and that would have solved the problem, a smoking tape no smoking gun.  It would of course have created other problems but they were political and could be handled in a way legal difficulties could not.  However, as soon as the tapes were subpoenaed they became evidence and their destruction would have been an obstruction of justice or worse.  Nixon had a narrow window of opportunity and didn’t take it, apparently convinced the doctrine of executive privilege would operate to ensure he wasn’t required to surrender the tapes to the investigators although in some of his subsequent writings he also maintained he genuinely believed they contained nothing which could cause him problems.  Given he genuinely would have had no knowledge of what exactly was on the tapes, that is at least plausible but all the material since published suggests his opinion of the protection executive privilege affords a president was the critical factor.  As it was the US Supreme Court (SCOTUS) limited the application of the doctrine and compelled Nixon to hand over the tapes.

New York Times, 9 August 1974.

With the release of the “smoking gun tape” which contained recordings proving Nixon was implicated in the cover-up of the involvement in the Watergate break-in by staff connected to the White House, his support in the Congress collapsed and those Republican representatives who previously had refused to vote for impeachment switched sides and the same day, after sounding out the numbers in the Senate, a delegation of senior Republican senators told the president he would be convicted and by a decisive margin.  What was revealed on the tapes was enough to seal his fate but the verdict of history might have been worse still because To this day, mystery surrounds one tape in particular, a recording of a discussion between Nixon and HR Haldeman (1926–1993; White House chief of staff 1969-1973) on 20 June 1972, three days after the Watergate break-in.  Of obviously great interest, when reviewed, there was found to be a gap of 18½ minutes, the explanations offered of how, why or by whom the erasure was effected ranging from the humorously accidental to the darkly conspiratorial but half a century on, it remains a mystery.  Taking advantage of new data-recovery technology, the US government did in subsequent decades make several attempts to “un-delete” the gap but without success and it may be, given the nature of magnetic tape, that there is literally nothing left to find.  However, the tape is stored in a secure, climate-controlled facility in case technical means emerge and while it’s unlikely the contents would reveal anything not already known or assumed, it would be of great interest to historians.  What would be even more interesting is the identity of who it was that erased the famous 18½ minutes but that will likely never be known; after fifty years, it’s thought that were there to be any death-bed confessions, they should by now have been heard.  Some have their lists of names of those who might have "pressed the erase button" and while mostly sub-sets of Watergate's "usual suspects", one who tends not to appear is Nixon himself, the usual consensus being he was technically too inept to operate a tape machine though it's not impossible he ordered someone to do the deed.  However it happened, the suspects most often mentioned as having had their "finger on the button" (which may have been a foot-pedal) are Nixon's secretary and his chief of staff. 

On 8 August 1974, Nixon resigned his office, effective the next day, saying in conclusion during his nationally televised speech:

To leave office before my term is completed is abhorrent to every instinct in my body. But as President, I must put the interest of America first. America needs a full-time President and a full-time Congress, particularly at this time with problems we face at home and abroad. To continue to fight through the months ahead for my personal vindication would almost totally absorb the time and attention of both the President and the Congress in a period when our entire focus should be on the great issues of peace abroad and prosperity without inflation at home. Therefore, I shall resign the Presidency effective at noon tomorrow. Vice President Ford will be sworn in as President at that hour in this office.

Herblock's (Herbert Block; 1909–2001) Watergate affair-era take on Richard Nixon's then novel position on the presidency and the US Constitution, Washington Post, 13 March 1974.  The cartoon has been noted by some in the light of Donald Trump's comments about the extent of presidential immunity.