Coup

Coup (pronounced koo)

(1) A highly successful, unexpected stroke, act, or move; a clever action or accomplishment; a brilliant and successful stroke or action

(2) As count coup, a brave or reckless deed performed in battle by a single warrior, as touching or striking an enemy warrior without sustaining injury oneself (believed specific to the Plains Indians of North America); a blow against an enemy delivered in a way that shows bravery.

(3) A short form for coup d'état, used (1) literally, in the context of a political takeover or overthrow (a putsch) and, (2) by extension, in business, sport, academia etc.

(4) A rubbish tip.

(5) In Scots, to barter; traffic; deal

(6) As (the unrelated) chicken coop (pronounced koop), a construction made up of an outdoor area, a roosting box, a roosting box support, a nesting box, and a garden above the outdoor area.

(7) In roulette, a single roll of the wheel.

(8) In the French card game rouge et noir, a deal.

(9) In the card-game bridge, one of various named strategies employed by the declarer to win more tricks (such as the Bath coup & Vienna coup).

(10) In billiards, the direct pocketing of the cue-ball, which is a foul stroke.

(11) To perform a coup; to recount or relate the coups one has performed.

1350–1400: From the Middle English coupe (to pay for), from the Old Norse kaupa (to buy, barter) and cognate with the Old English cēapian and the German kaufen.  The use in the modern sense of “blow; strike against” emerged in the 1640s and was from the French coup (literally “blow, stroke”) from the twelfth century Old French colp (a blow, strike), from the Medieval Latin colpus, from the Latin colaphus (blow with the fist; a cuff, box on the ear), from the Greek kólaphos (a blow, buffet, punch, slap) of uncertain origin.  In Modern French the word is regarded as a “workhorse”, used variously to describe physical blows from “a pat on the back” to “a serious assault”, gunshots, sudden, dramatic weather events such as claps of thunder or gusts of wind and moves in games including cards & chess.  Depending on the context, the synonyms include action, plot, revolt, revolution, overthrow, stratagem, accomplishment, upset, stroke, exploit, stunt & deed.  Coup, coupist & coupism are nouns; the plural is coups (pronounced kooz (or koo in French)).

A coup de grâce is a “mercy killing”, a final blow or shot delivered to kill a wounded person or animal, the rationale being it "puts them out of their misery".  Some have been notable: When it became clear to the coup plotters that Unternehmen Walküre (Operation Valkyrie, the 20 July 1944 attempt to overthrow Nazi rule, the success of which was predicated on the assassination of Adolf Hitler (1889-1945; Führer (leader) and German head of government 1933-1945 & head of state 1934-1945) had failed, a number of the plotters decided to anticipate the inevitable by committed suicide.  Most succeeded but Colonel General Ludwig Beck (1880–1944), pencilled in as head of state in the provisional government, given permission by his captor to take his own life, shot himself in the head (twice according some accounts) but managed only to wound himself.  That might sound like an indictment of the marksmanship in the senior ranks of the Wehrmacht but it transpires not to be unknown in suicide attempts, especially when the weapon is a small calibre pistol loaded with the steel-jacketed bullets used by the military.  An army sergeant delivered Beck the coup de grâce with a single shot.

The meaning “a sudden decisive act” was first used in 1852 as clipping of coup d'etat.  The linguistic gift was the consequence of the coup d'état of 2 December 1851, staged by Charles-Louis Napoléon Bonaparte (1808–1873; first president of France (1848-1852) and (as the Emperor Napoleon III) the last monarch (1852-1870)).  In the narrow technical sense, political scientists often list the event as a “self coup” because he was at the time serving as President of France (the Second Republic) and the appropriately-named Operation Rubicon was a way to ensure his continuation in office, the president, under the constitution, compelled to relinquish office in 1852.  Charles-Louis was a nephew of Napoleon Bonaparte (1769–1821; leader of the French Republic 1799-1804 & Emperor of the French from 1804-1814 & 1815) who would become known as Napoleon I.  Just to emphasize the imperial connection, the coup was timed to coincide with the anniversary of Napoleon I's victory at the Battle Austerlitz (2 December 1805, the so-called “Battle of the Three Emperors”), one of the great set-piece engagements of the Napoleonic Wars (1803-1815).

Emperor Donald I in his coronation robes, post coup d'etat (digitally altered image).

The sense of history was real but the motive was more Machiavellian.  Le President liked being head of state, was frustrated his agenda had yet to be implemented and the coup took the course familiar in dozens since, dissolving the parliament & vesting the office of president with the power to rule by decree.  Giving a lesson which would be well-learned by later dictators, within days of the coup the president had conducted a constitutional referendum which (carefully counted) approved his actions and by 14 January 1852 a new constitution had been promulgated (replacing the document of 4 November 1848 which had been the founding text of the Second Republic).  However, even enhanced powers (strengthened still further over the next few months) proved insufficient and, with the concurrence of the Sénat (the unelected upper chamber of the national assembly) and another referendum (one in which who counted the votes was of more importance than who voted), on 2 December 1852, Bonaparte proclaimed himself “Emperor of the French” as Napoleon III.  In the French monarchical tradition, he now thought he had a job for life.  Things didn’t quite work out that way but he was for a while a real emperor which is something few presidents get to be.  When he turns off the light at night, it may be that Donald Trump’s (b 1946; US president 2017-2021) early-morning thoughts turn not to memories of Stormy Daniels (the stage name of Stephanie Gregory, b 1979 with whom nothing ever happened) but to Napoleon III.  Were he to follow the business model of 1852, he could be crowned Donald I.

The coup d'état (pronounced koo dey-tahz or ku-deta (French)) is the sudden, unlawful (although this is often retrospectively “fixed”) often violent, decisive action in politics, especially one resulting in a change of government illegally or by force.  In French, unlike English, the word État (sovereign political entity) is capitalized.  As a political tactic, coup d'état has existed probably since the first forms of government emerged but the phrase is recent, apparently unknown in English prior to 1802 when, finding no better phrase in English to convey the idea, the French form was adopted.  Neither coup d'état nor putsch have ever been defined in international law and tend to be used interchangeably, any variation in use tending to occur according to the linguistic traditions of the country in which the event happens rather than any differences in practice.  Technically, both are any sudden, decisive political act but are usually used to describe an attempt, successful or not, to overthrow a government or leader.  In contrast to a revolution, a coup d'état (sometimes truncated to coup) or putsch, does not involve a mass uprising, being instead usually an action where a small group arrests, executes or in some way disposes of incumbent leaders, seizing the institutions of the state and proclaims themselves in power.  That’s the essence of the coup d'état, it’s the takeover of the state, usually by one or more of the constituent institutions of the state.  Debate continues about whether Nacht der langen Messer ((Night of the Long Knives, also called Unternehmen Kolbri (Operation Hummingbird), the bloody purge between 30 June-2 July 1934, when the Nazi regime carried out a number of extrajudicial executions, ostensibly to crush what was referred to as “the Röhm Putsch”) should be called a “pre-emptive” or “preventative” strike.  All the evidence suggests there was no likelihood of a coup in the immediate future but that it wasn’t something which could in the future be thought impossible.  Most settle on “preventative”.

Nice day for a coup d'état.  Air Marshal Perence Shiri (1955-2020, left) and the late Robert Mugabe (1924–2019; prime minister of Zimbabwe 1980-1987, president 1987-2017, right).

Occasionally, there’s the curious case of the military coup where both the soldiers and the deposed deny it was any such thing.  In 2017 the Zimbabwe Army’s high command engineered the “retirement” of Robert Mugabe and most unusually, it was greeted with almost universal local and international approval, despite a consensus that military overthrows are pretty bad form and not to be encouraged.  This was a special case, everyone preferring to welcome the outcome and not dwell too long on the process.  As military coups go, it wasn’t too bad and to smooth the process, Mr Mugabe’s was granted a “severance package” along the lines of that Mr Putin offered to some annoying types: “We know what you’ve stolen over the years but you stole it fair and square so you can keep it but you have to go away and keep quiet.”  Despite the generosity of that, within a few months he was complaining he’d been the “victim of a coup d'état.”

Coups d'état (coup d'états the alternative plural in English) also attract modifiers.  A “colonels' coup” is a military coup in which the dominant players are not from the most senior ranks (ie not the Generals or Admirals).  The classic example was the Greek coup of 21 April 1967 which was staged by literally a number of colonels, the resulting right-wing military dictatorship often dubbed the “Regime of the Colonels”.  In 1973, the generals got their revenge, overthrowing the colonels and in the jargon of political science, a “generals’ coup” is one considered to have been instigated by the military establishment rather than a faction meaning a coup led by only a couple of generals is not a “generals’ coup” but a “military coup” which happens to have been staged by generals.  Political scientists enjoy distinctions like this and they really like “soft-coup” which describes an overthrow which is essentially administrative.  The political demise of both Margaret Thatcher (1925–2013; UK prime-minister 1979-1990) and Jim Bolger (b 1935; prime-minister of New Zealand 1990-1997) were achieved by way of soft-coup, a pack of colleagues assembled to tell the leader they “no longer have the numbers”.  The number of failed soft-coups is legion but, when the first fails, the second often succeeds.  The soft-coup is also a favorite of conspiracy theorists who see in all that is wrong in the world the hand of the “deep state” (or else the Freemasons, the Jews, the Jesuits or the Secret Society of the Les Clefs d’Or).  They're probably right about the Freemasons.

Lindsay Lohan never forgave Hosni Mubarak (1928–2020; president of Egypt 1981-2011) for shouting at Bill Clinton (b 1946; US president 1993-2001).  When told in 2011 he’d fallen from power as one of the victims of the Arab Spring, she responded: “Cool.”  When told it was brought about by a military coup she replied: “Gross!”  Lindsay Lohan doesn’t approve of Coups d'état and believes in due constitutional process.   

A “palace coup” is one staged by those who were already part of the group in power (the word “palace” is thus used here as a synecdoche and there’s not necessarily a physical palace involved).  It’s really the ultimate factional power-play and often used of the (figurative) back-stabbing which tended to be the culmination of the low skulduggery which is a feature of modern democratic politics.  The “self-coup” (also called the auto-coup) is better thought of as a power-grab and involves someone lawfully in power seizing (by non-constitutional or by some means of dubious lawfulness) power from other branches or institutions of government.  Typically, this will involve dissolving legislatures or removing judges.  There are also “failed coups” which often are notable for the bloody (sometimes literal, sometimes figurative depending on where it happens) aftermath, revenge visited upon the plotters (and sometimes their friends, family and other “usual suspects”).  Done properly, the vengeance should be short and sharp (though not necessarily with a low-body count).  In that it differs from a successful coup because in those the settling of scores and elimination of enemies (real and imagined) can drag on from weeks, or in extreme cases, such as the 1973 military coup in Chile, years.

A coup d'essai (literally “stroke of trial”) is a first attempt at something.  A coup de force (literally “stroke of force”) is a sudden violent action.  A coup de foudre (literally “stroke of lightning” is a sudden unforeseen event, the most attractive use of which is the peoetic “love at first sight”).  A coup de glotte (a glottal stop) is a term from phonetics which describes a plosive sound articulated with the glottis (the opening between the true vocal cords which is located in the larynx and affects voice modulation through expansion or contraction).  A coup de main ( literally “stroke of hand”  is a military term meaning “surprise attack” but is sometimes used in other contexts; if successfully executed, it could be said to be a coup de maître (a master stroke).  A coup de poing (literally “stroke of fist”) is persuasion by means of violence (sometimes used loosely of coercion or implied violence); in archaeology it describes a hatchet or hand-axe.  A coup de soleil is an attack of sun-stroke.  A coup de theatre is (1) a sudden or unexpected event in a play (the work either of the author, director or performer) or (2) a theatrical trick, twist or gesture staged for dramatic effect.  A Coup de vent (literally “stroke of wind”) is a whirlwind or other gust of unusual strength.  A coup d'œil (literally “stroke of eye”) is “a comprehensive glance; a general view” which in military use refers to a “rapidly sizing up of a position and estimating its strategic advantages and drawbacks”.

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.

Crossbody

Crossbody (pronounced kraws-bod-ee or kros‐bod-ee)

(1) Of or noting a type of bag, distinguished by a long shoulder strap intended to be worn diagonally across the body.  A crossbody purse or crossbody wallet is a variation on the theme.

(2) In professional (ie choreographed) wrestling, a term covering several aerial moves in which one competitor launches themselves from a height (sometimes using the ring’s ropes or corner-posts to gain altitude) landing horizontally or diagonally across their (often already) prostrate opponent's torso, forcing them to the mat if they were standing.

Early 1950s: The construct was cross + body.  As a prefix, cross was from the Middle English cros- & crosse- (relating to a cross, forming a cross, in the shape of a cross or “X”), developed from the noun and influenced by “across”.  Body (the spelling bodie is long obsolete) was from the Middle English bodi & bodiȝ, from the Old English bodiġ (body, trunk, chest, torso, height, stature), from the Proto-West Germanic bodag (body, trunk), from the primitive Indo-European bhewd (to be awake, observe).  It was cognate with the Old High German botah from which the Swabian gained Bottich (body, torso).  Although as late as the sixteenth century, “body” was used in the now archaic sense of the “section of a dress or gown extending from the neck to the waist but excluding the arms” the idea of the crossbody was a reference always to “the body” in the sense of the physical structure of a human form, in this case the torso, the line extending from a shoulder to around the opposite hip.  The alternative spelling is cross–body.  Crossbody is a noun & adjective; the noun plural is crossbodies.

The cross-prefix has widely been used for similar or analogous purposes such as the crossbow, (an early, mechanized version of the bow and arrow), the cross-bolt (a means of adding additional structural rigidity to the main bearings in an internal combustion engine by adding locating bolts at a 90^o angle to those mounted vertically) and cross-purposes (a conversation in which two or more are talking while misunderstanding each other's plans, intentions or meanings) and the cross-stitch (in needlework or embroidery, a double-stitch which forms a cross.  Many other uses such as cross-country, cross-dresser, cross-cultural et al, are different in that they don’t involve the “X” shape or (of necessity) anything in a diagonal.

Bill Clinton & Monica Lewinsky, the White House, February 1997, one of the photographs of the 1990s.

Monica Lewinsky (1973) was the young intern of whom in 1998 Bill Clinton (b 1946; US president 1993-2001) infamously remarked “I did not have sexual relations with that woman… Miss Lewinsky.”  Had that been something said in a county court in a remote flyover state of a consensual encounter between two obscure private citizens, defense counsel may have succeeded in arguing that for there to be “sexual relations” one must have “sex” and what transpired had not crossed the accepted definitional threshold.  In 1998, there probably were still places where such distinctions were maintained but because what happened happened in the White House between the chief magistrate of the United States and an intern a quarter century younger, Monicagate played out.  As presidential scandals go there have certainly been worse and as Harold Macmillan (1894–1986; UK prime-minister 1957-1963) replied when woken in the middle of the night to be told a member of his cabinet was in the midst of an affair with a young lady “with both a present and a past” who was also enjoying the affections of a Soviet spy: “Well at least it was with a woman.”  That the liaisons with the Russian were arranged at the behest of MI5 (the UK's internal security organization) is one of the many details which made the Profumo Affair (John Profumo (1915–2006)) one of the century's juiciest scandals although, some of the files containing "sensitive" information about members of the English establishment remain embargoed until 2046. Even then, few expect to see unredacted papers. 

Bill Clinton and crooked Hillary Clinton, the Hamptons, 2021.

A youthful indiscretion is one thing but an indiscretion with a youth is something else and whether crooked Hillary Clinton (b 1947; US secretary of state 2009-2013) ever forgave her husband only she knows but she didn’t leave him so there was that.  She had her own reasons to stay which may or may not have involved forgiveness but the conventional political wisdom remains that had the US constitution allowed it, Bill Clinton would probably have enjoyed a comfortable victory in the 2000 presidential election so enough of the US population either forgave him or were indifferent in the matter.  Monica Lewinsky fared not as well, being as unprepared for what ensued as just about anyone in her position would have been and it’s remarkable she coped as well as she did.  However, now 50, Ms Lewinsky has survived and in February 2024 emerged as the face of women’s fashion label Reformation’s latest campaign, one focused on corporate workwear and, in concert with vote.org, encouraging women to “use their voice” in the upcoming election and given the extent to which recent court decisions have encouraged an influential faction in the Republican Party to mount further assaults on the rights of women, their vote has the potential to be decisive in contests for both houses of Congress.

Monica Lewinsky's photoshoot for Reformation’s You’ve Got the Power campaign. 

The “You’ve Got the Power” campaign slogan thus has a dual meaning, referencing both the exercise of the franchise and the “power dressing” of the wardrobe (good taste prevailed and no electric blue dresses were featured) although big shoulder pads didn’t make a return which would have disappointed some but the corporate staples red (here described as “scarlet”) and black were prominent.  The range was conservative as befits the target market but seems to have been well-received and serious students of such things especially appreciated the inclusion of an irregular polka-dot in black & white.  Ms Lewinsky certainly looked good and while photographers have tricks to play with lighting and angles, there’s little to suggest much post-production editing was done; she looked a youthful, elegant 50.  One piece which attracted attention was the “Monica” bag which came with both a fitted top-handle and a longer strap, allowing it to be carried on the shoulder or as a crossbody.

Reformation’s "Monica" crossbody bag in black (left) and topo (right).

The Monica crossbody bag is available in topo or black.  Topo is a Spanish word meaning “mole” (both (1) in zoology as the small mammal and (2) in the jargon of espionage a “sleeper agent” who infiltrates an organization, usually to spy) and as a dark brownish-grey colour (ie an approximation of the colour of a mole's skin (hence the familiar "moleskin"), it’s the equivalent of the English taupe, from the French taupe, from the Latin talpa (mole).  In the circumstances, “talpa” presumably was more appealing to the marketing department than “moleskin” although “black” was refreshingly simple.  Reformation’s Monica (as in the crossbody bag) web page recommended the topo hue worked well paired with their “Lysander” dress, available in “selene” (the rather fetching polka-dot) or “midnight” (a dark blue close to navy and far enough removed from the shade of dress Ms Lewinsky made famous not to attract comment).  How fashion houses come up with product names is often mysterious.  Lysander was from the Ancient Greek Λῠ́σᾰνδρος (Lúsandros) and is a (now rare) male given name although in the US there has in the twenty-first century been a modest resurgence.  In the Greek, the name was used to denote “liberator” and it became entrenched in English probably because William Shakespeare (1564–1616) used it in the comedy, A Midsummer Night's Dream (1596), a romp in which Lysander found himself under Puck's spell after running away with his beloved Hermia, enduring a half-dozen cases of mistaken identity before being reunited, marrying in a triple ceremony (all of which sounds curiously modern in a Netflix sort of way).  What Reformation may have had in mind was Lysander (circa 454-395 BC), the Spartan admiral who liberated his people from the hegemony of Athens, his most famous victory being the sinking of the Athenian fleet at the Battle of Aegospotami (405 BC), the engagement which ended the Peloponnesian War.  Presumably, the thinking at Reformation was the name of an admiral from Antiquity was enough of a connection with navy blue although that tradition of use in navies began many centuries later.  There was also the Westland Lysander, a World War II (1939-1945) era communications & support aircraft used by the British Army and best remembered for (1) its role in smuggling spies and saboteurs into occupied Europe and (2) the unusual use of the wheel spats as mounting points for machine guns and ordnance such as 250lb (115 KG) bombs.  In production in the UK & Canada between 1936-1943, it was an uncelebrated but versatile platform which provided invaluable service in the clandestine operations run by the UK’s remarkably large number of agencies concerned with dirty tricks and other murky business.  It’s not likely Reformation thought much about the aircraft.

The Monicagate (1998) effect: The decline of the use of the name Monica in the US

Monica is a female given name and the variants in other European languages include Monique (French & Dutch), Mónica (Spanish Portuguese & Italian), Mônica (Brazilian Portuguese), Monika (Polish, Slovak, Slovine, Lithuanian, Croatian, Finnish, German & Indian, Czech, Bulgarian, Latvian, Finnish, Swedish, Norwegian & Danish), Moonika (Estonia), Mónika (Hungarian) and Mònica (Catalan).  The origin is obscure but may be from a Phoenician, Punic or Berber dialect, the oldest known instance being as the name of the mother of Saint Augustine of Hippo (354–430) although it has also been associated with the Ancient Greek μόνος (monos) (alone, only, sole, single).  It was Monica who converted Augustine to Christianity and in gratitude the Church also canonized her.  The Latin name Monica was from monere (to advise), an inflection of moneō, from the Proto-Italic moneō, from the primitive Indo-European monéyeti, causative from men- (to think); it was etymologically unrelated to later forms.  As an English name, it has been in use since the mid-eighteenth century while in the US, popularity peaked in the mid-1970s before beginning a gradual decline which became a precipitous plummet after 1999, something it seems reasonable to attribute to “the Monicagate effect”.

Lindsay Lohan with crossbody bags: At the LLohan Nightclub pop-up event, Playboy Club, New York, October 2019 (David Koma crystal-embellished cady midi dress with asymmetric hem, Valentino Rockstud 110mm pumps and Chanel mini tweed bag with crossbody strap from the Spring/Summer 2015 runway collection) (left) and with Louis Vuitton Louis Vuitton Le Coussin BB Bag (with a detachable crossbody strap), arriving at JFK Airport, August 2022 (right).

Creature of habit: Audrey Hepburn carrying her crossbody purse, Rome, 1971.

The crossbody bag in one form or another would have existed about as long as there have been bag-like creations for holding stuff because the design offers the advantage of transferring the weight to the shoulders (alternating if required) and leaving the user inherently "hands free".  Although for centuries a feature of military webbing, as a packaged piece of fashion, the industry usually credits the "design" of the product to Robert Sakowitz and later refinements to his daughter Bunny (she added the game-changing zipper!), the latter acknowledging a debt to the eighteenth century cross-body "strap bags".   The mix of thoughtful detailing, practicality and high prices meant that in the 1950s it soon became a a fashion staple and Audrey Hepburn (1929–1993) using one in her portrayal of the modern young spinster Holly Golightly in Breakfast at Tiffany's (1961) cemented it's place.  It's never left and a crossbody bag is merely one worn across the body with the strap extending diagonally from one shoulder to the opposite hip but the utility come from (1) hands-free convenience, (2) security & stability while affording ease of access to multiple compartments and (3) the ability to optimize weight distribution.  The crossbody method can be applied to bags of various sizes and there are even crossbody wallets and small purses and while such things might sound merely decorative, men tend often forget it's not uncommon for a woman's entire outfit to include not one pocket and in an era when it's become possible to carry only one's phone, a lipstick and a small can of mace; practicality need no longer be big.

The Monica 560

France's finest ever: 1963 Facel Vega Facel II.

In the fashion business there have been a number of products named “Monica” and it’s likely this often was for no reason other than it was thought appropriately feminine and pleasing to use.  There is also an automotive footnote, the Monica 560 a French-built luxury car which was the last of the first generation of trans-Atlantic hybrids which, combining elegant European coachwork with robust, powerful, very cheap (and very thirsty) US-sourced drive-trains, flourished between the mid-1950s and the first oil shock two decades later.  It’s often said the Monica was an attempt to resurrect the much lamented Facel Vegas (1954-1964) but the founder was more nostalgic still, the industrialist Jean Tastevin (1919-2016) recalling the pre-war Delahayes, Bugattis Delages & Buccialis, French cars which ranked with the world’s finest.  However, when in the late 1960s Monsieur Tastevin surveyed the scene, even the more expensive French cars, whatever their other virtues (some of which were admittedly well concealed), were under-powered and although in many ways sophisticated, lacked the power and refinement of the British, US & European competition.  His core business was the large conglomerate Compagnie française de produits métallurgiques (CFPM) which specialized in building freight rail wagons, his imaginative business model including leasing them, a form of vertical integration which provided a stable revenue stream during periods of diminished demand.  

One of the valve cover castings for a Martin V8 installed in a prototype Monica.

With this industrial capacity and financial infrastructure, he reasoned building a car to compete with the other speciality builders (and he included in that the upper-range Mercedes-Benz, Jaguars and such) was within CFPM’s capacity and in that he may have been correct but a combination of bad decisions, bad luck and bad timing doomed the project.  The first mistake was to try to match Maserati & Ferrari in the use of a bespoke engine rather than the US V8s pragmatically adopted by Jensen, Bristol, Iso, Monterverdi and others; Tastevin wanted a thoroughbred, not a bastard.  What was available was a V8 designed by the gifted English engineer Ted Martin (1922-2010) and it was in many ways outstanding being robust, compact, powerful and light.  Convinced, Tastevin bought the rights along with the collateral contract under which Rolls-Royce agreed to handle the production, the prestige of a “Rolls-Royce-built engine” another thing which appealed.  Unfortunately, Monsieur Tastevin subsequently demanded of Rolls-Royce they guarantee the power output of each unit, an underwriting the company declined on the basis that as a manufacturing and assembly contractor of something they’d not designed and tested, they were not prepared to guarantee someone else’s work.  His contract well-written, Ted Martin kept the money and Tastevin had to find another engine.

The first (left) and second (centre) Monica prototypes and the Amiot 143M (1931-1944), a French five-seat reconnaissance bomber (right).

By early 1968, that was still to happen and prototypes were built with the Martin V8.  There was progress in that the chassis and most of the underpinnings were in close to their final form but the all-important styling was still a work in progress although that is being charitable, the appearance of the early prototypes in the tradition of some of the inter-war bombers built for the French Air Force which to this day remain among the ugliest aircraft ever to fly.  The English were involved in the appearance of the early cars so blame can be shared and it wasn’t until the Italian carrozzeria Vignale became involved, something like the final, sleek form emerged although the work would be brought to fruition by others because Vignale subsequently was shuttered.  One thing which was deemed right as soon as the decision was made was the car’s name: Madam Tastevin’s name was Monique.

The Monica stand, Paris Motor Show, 1972.

The Monica made its debut at the Paris Motor Show, late in 1972 and impressed many with the look of its jewel-like V8 and sumptuous interior although the price raised a few eyebrows, costing as much as two Citroën SMs, then the most expensive car produced in France.  In the way of such things, the sales projections were optimistic, suggesting as many as 500 Monicas annually even though the market for big, expensive four-door saloons had become crowded; not only were specialists like Iso, Monterverdi and De Tomaso offering fully-developed and well-established models with reliable US V8s, Jaguar’s V12-powered XJ12 had set a dynamic benchmark at an extraordinarily low price and Mercedes-Benz were rumoured to be preparing a 7.4 litre (452 cubic inch) version of their epoch making S-Class (W116) (post-oil shock, eventually it would in 1975 surface as the 450 SEL 6.9).  Still, in 1972, generally, there was faith in the future.

1973 Monica 560 interior.  The engine was from the US, the leather & burl walnut was English, it was styled in Italy and the gearbox was German (or from the US if automatic).  It had a "French flavor". 

There optimism was still in the air in 1973 (the oil wouldn’t stop flowing until October) but by then the hunt was on for a new engine.  The contractual squabble with Rolls-Royce was one thing but by then, it had anyway finally occurred to Tastevin’s inexperienced team that the Martin V8, an enlarged racing engine, was never going to possess the characteristics needed in a luxury car.  It was noisy, at its best with a manual gearbox and at anything but high revs (where it needed to operate to produce the required power), somewhat rough.  In the early 1960s the Maserati Quattroporte had been much the same and it sold well but then there were few alternatives and the world had moved on; what buyers now wanted was the turbine-like smoothness of the XJ12 or the effortless torque of the big-displacement V8 hybrids.  The 3.4 litre (209 cubic inch) Martin V8 was a vibrant thing which would have been entertaining in a sports car but it wasn't what the target market now expected in a luxury saloon.  Tastevin’s original plan had been to build a high-performance sports car and the switch to four-door coachwork came early in the development process.  Of all the hybrids built in the era, the Monica was the only one never offered as a coupé. 

One of the few: 1974 Monica 560 Berlina.

Surrendering to the inevitable, Tastevin phoned Detroit and arranged to purchase a batch of Chrysler’s 340 cubic inch (5.6 litre) (LA) V8s, one of the best of the small-block engines of the era and equally adaptable either to the company’s TorqueFlite automatic transmission or the ZF five-speed manual which still had real appeal for some.  Although by then somewhat detuned from its peak during the muscle car years, the 340 could be run in Europe without most of the power-sapping anti-pollution gear insisted on by US regulators (things were different then) and the performance was sparkling; in deference to Europeans for whom cubic inches were mysterious, the car was named the Monica 560.  In 1974, the finished product was ready for sale although inflation meant the already high price had risen by over 50% since 1972 and the four-fold increase in the price of oil in the wake of the embargo had punished demand for fast, thirsty, cars, especially those from a previously unknown manufacturer.  By late 1974, many of the makers of the trans-Atlantic hybrids were either closed or in the throes of what would for most be a not long-protracted demise.  After 17 Monicas were sold in a few months, it was obvious the math was wrong and in February 1975, the company’s closure was announced, one of many such press-releases that year and while a handful of uncompleted chassis were brought to a finished state by a contracted third party, it’s never been clear how many.  Had the Monica 560 been brought to market in 1968 or 1969, it might have enjoyed some years of modest suggest although there’s no reason to believe it would have weathered the winds of change brought by the 1970s any better that the others which fell victim.

Brand

Brand (pronounced brand)

(1) The kind, grade, or make of a product or service, as indicated by a stamp, trademark, or such.

(2) A mark made by burning or otherwise, to indicate kind, grade, make, ownership (of both objects and certain animals) etc.

(3) A mark formerly put upon slaves or criminals, made on the skin with a hot iron.

(4) Any mark of disgrace; stigma.

(5) A kind or variety of something distinguished by some distinctive characteristic.

(6) A set of distinctive characteristics that establish a recognizable image or identity for a person or thing.

(7) A conflagration; a flame.  A burning or partly burned piece of wood (now rare except regionally although the idea of brand as “a flaming torch” still exists as a poetic device).  In the north of England & Scotland, a brand is a torch used for signalling. 

(8) A sword (archaic except as a literary or poetic device).

(9) In botany, a fungal disease of garden plants characterized by brown spots on the leaves, caused by the rust fungus Puccinia arenariae

(10) A male given name (the feminine name Brenda was of Scottish origin and was from the Old Norse brandr (literally “sword” or “torch”).

(11) To label or mark with or as if with a brand.

(12) To mark with disgrace or infamy; to stigmatize.

(13) Indelibly to impress (usually in the form “branded upon one’s mind”)

(14) To give a brand name to (in commerce including the recent “personal brand).

Pre 950: From the Middle English, from the Old English brond & brand (fire, flame, destruction by fire; firebrand, piece of burning wood, torch (and poetically “sword”, “long blade”) from the Old High German brant, the ultimate source the primitive Indo-European bhrenu- (to bubble forth; brew; spew forth; burn).  It was cognate with the Scots brand, the Dutch & German Brand, the Old Norse brandr, the Swedish brand (blaze, fire), the Icelandic brandur and the French brand of Germanic origin.  The Proto-Slavic gorěti (to burn) was a distant relation.  Brand is a noun & verb, brander is a noun, brandless is an adjective, branded is a verb and branding is a noun & verb; the noun plural is brands.  Forms (hyphenated and not) like de-brand, non-brand, mis-brand & re-brand are created as required and unusually for English, the form brander seems never to have been accompanied by the expected companion “brandee”.

Some work tirelessly on their “personal brand”, a term which has proliferated since social media gained critical mass.  Lindsay Lohan’s existence at some point probably transcended the notion of a personal brand and became an institution; the details no longer matter.

The verb brand dates from the turn of the fifteenth century in the sense of “to impress or burn a mark upon with a hot iron, cauterize; stigmatize” and originally described the marks imposed on criminal or cauterized wounds, the used developed from the noun.  The figurative use (often derogatory) of “fix a character of infamy upon” emerged in the mid-fifteenth century, based on the notion of the association with criminality.  The use to refer to a physical branding as a mark of ownership or quality dates from the 1580s and from this developed the familiar modern commercial (including “personal brands”) sense of “brand identity”, “brand recognition”, “brand-name” etc.  Property rights can also attach to brands, the idea of “brand-equity”.

Although it’s unknown just when the term “branding iron” (the (almost always) iron instrument which when heated burned brands into timber, animal hides etc) was first used (it was an ancient device), the earliest known citation dates only from 1828.  The “mark made by a hot iron” was older and in use since at least the 1550s, noted especially of casks and barrels”, the marks indicating variously the maker, the type of contents, the date (of laying down etc) or the claimed quality..  By the early-mid nineteenth century the meaning had broadened to emphasise “a particular make of goods”, divorced from a particular single item and the term “brand-name” appears first to have been used in 1889, something significant in the development of the valuable commodity of “brand-loyalty” although that seems not to have been an acknowledged concept in marketing until 1961.  The idea of “brand new” is based on the (not always accurate) notion a brand was the last thing to be applied to a product before it left the factory.

BMC ADO16 brands, clockwise from top left: Wolseley 1300, Riley Kestrel 1300, MG 1300, Austin 1300 GT, Morris 1100 and Vanden Plas Princess 1300.  The British Motor Corporation's (BMC) ADO16 (Austin Drawing Office design 16) was produced between 1962-1974 and was a great success domestically and in many export markets, more than two million sold in 1.1 & 1.3 litre form.  The Austin & Morris brands made up the bulk of the production but versions by Wolseley, Riley, MG & Vanden Plas versions were at various times available.  All were almost identically mechanically with the brand differentiation restricted to the interior trim and the frontal panels.  This was the high (or low) point of the UK industry's “badge engineering”.  The abbreviation ADO is still sometimes said to stand for “Amalgamated Drawing Office”, a reference to the 1952 creation of BMC when the Austin & Morris design & engineering resources were pooled.  Like many such events subsequently, the amalgamation was more a “takeover” than a “merger” and the adoption of “Austin Drawing Office” reflected the priorities and loyalties of Leonard Lord (later Lord Lambury, 1896–1967), the former chairman of Austin who was appointed to head the conglomerate.  The appearance of “Amalgamated Drawing Office” appears to be a creation of the internet age, the mistake still circulating.

Since the beginnings of mass-production made possible by powered industrial processes and the ability to distribute manufactured stuff world-wide, brand-names have become (1) more prevalent and (2) not of necessity as distinctive as once they were.  Historically, in commerce, a brand was an indication of something unique but as corporations became conglomerates they tended to accumulate brands (sometimes with no other purpose than ceasing production in order to eliminate competition) and over time, it was often tempting to reduce costs by ceasing separate development and simply applying a brand to an existing line, hoping the brand loyalty would be sufficient to overlook the cynicism.  The British car manufactures in the 1950s use the idea to maintain brand presence without the expense of developing unique products and while originally some brand identity was maintained with the use of unique mechanical components or coachwork while using a common platform, by the late 1960s the system had descended to what came to be called “badge engineering”, essentially identical products sold under various brand-names, the differences restricted to minor variations in trim and, of course, the badge.

Australia Day vs Invasion Day: The case for a re-brand

Although it came to be known as “Australia’s national day” and in some form or other had been celebrated or at last marked since the early nineteenth century, as a large-scale celebration (with much flag waving) it has been a thing only since the 1988 bi-centennial of white settlement.  What the day commemorated was the arrival in 1788 in what is now Sydney of the so-called “First Fleet” of British settlers, the raising of the Union Flag the first event of legal significance in what ultimately became the claiming of the continental land-mass by the British crown.  Had that land been uninhabited, things good and bad would anyway have happened but in 1788, what became the Commonwealth of Australia was home to the descendants of peoples who had been in continuous occupation sine first arriving up to 50,000 years earlier (claims the history extends a further 10,000 remain unsupported by archaeological evidence); conflict was inevitable and conflict there was, the colonial project a violent and bloody business, something the contemporary records make clear was well understood at the time but which really entered modern consciousness only in recent decades.

What the colonial authorities did was invoke the legal principle of terra nullius (from the Latin terra nūllīus (literally “nobody's land”)) which does not mean “land inhabited by nobody” but “land not owned by anyone”.  The rational for that was the view the local population had no concept of land “ownership” and certainly no “records” or “title deeds” as they would be understood in English law.  Given that, not only did the various tribes not own the land but they had no system under which they could own land; thus the place could be declared terra nullis.  Of late, some have devoted much energy to justifying all that on the basis of “prevailing standards” and “accepted law” but even at the time there were those in London who were appalled at what was clearly theft on a grand scale, understanding that even if the indigenous population didn’t understand their connection to the land and seas as “ownership” as the concept was understood in the West, what was undeniable by the 1830s when the doctrine of terra nullius was formally interpolated into colonial law was that those tribes understood what “belonged” to them and what “belonged” to other tribes.  That’s not to suggest it was a wholly peaceful culture, just that borders existed and were understood, even if sometimes transgressed.  Thus the notion that 26 January should better be understood as “Invasion Day” and what is more appropriate than a celebration of a blood-soaked expropriation of a continent is there should be a treaty between the colonial power (and few doubt that is now the Australian government) and the descendants of the conquered tribes, now classified as “first nations”.  Although the High Court of Australia in 1992 overturned the doctrine of terra nullius when it was recognized that in certain circumstances the indigenous peoples could enjoy concurrent property rights to land with which they could demonstrate a continuing connection, this did not dilute national sovereignty nor in any way construct the legal framework for a treaty (or treaties).

The recognition that white settlement was an inherently racist project based on theft is said by some to be a recent revelation but there are documents of the colonial era (in Australia and elsewhere in the European colonial empires) which suggest there were many who operated on a “we stole it fair and square” basis and many at the time probably would not have demurred from the view 26 January 1788 was “Invasion Day” and that while it took a long time, ultimately that invasion succeeded.  Of course, elsewhere in the British Empire, other invasions also proved (militarily) successful but usually these conflicts culminated in a treaty, however imperfect may have the process and certainly the consequences.  In Australia, it does seem there is now a recognition that wrong was done and a treaty is the way to offer redress.  That of course is a challenging path because, (1) as the term “first nations” implies, there may need to be dozens (or even hundreds according to the count of some anthropologists) of treaties and (2) the result will need to preserve the indivisible sovereignty of the Commonwealth of Australia, something which will be unpalatable to the most uncompromising of the activists because it means that whatever the outcome, it will still be mapped onto the colonial model.

As the recent, decisive defeat of a referendum (which would have created an constitutionally entrenched Indigenous advisory body) confirmed, anything involving these matters is contentious and while there are a number of model frameworks which could be the basis for negotiating treaties, the negotiating positions which will emerge as “the problems” are those of the most extreme 1% (or some small number) of activists whose political positions (and often incomes) necessitate an uncompromising stance.  Indeed, whatever the outcome, it’s probably illusory to imagine anything can be solved because there are careers which depend on there being no solution and it’s hard to envisage any government will be prepared to stake scare political capital on a venture which threatens much punishment and promises little reward.  More likely is a strategy of kicking the can down the road while pretending to be making progress; many committees and boards of enquiry are likely to be in our future and, this being a colonial problem, the most likely diversion on that road will be a colonial fix.

One obvious colonial fix would be a double re-branding exercise.  The New Year’s Day public holiday could be shifted from 1 January to December 31 and re-branded “New Year’s Eve Holiday”, about the only practical change being that instead of the drinking starting in the evening it can begin early in the day (which for many it doubtless anyway does).  Australia Day could then be marked on 1 January and could be re-branded to “Constitution Day” although given the history that too might be found objectionable.  Still, the date is appropriate because it was on 1 January 1901 the country and constitution came into existence as a consequence of an act of the Imperial Parliament, subsequently validated by the parliament of the Commonwealth of Australia (an institution created by the London statute).  It’s the obvious date to choose because that was the point of origin of the sovereign state although in the narrow technical sense, true sovereignty was attained only in steps (such as the Statute of Westminster (1931)), the process not complete until simultaneously both parliaments passed their respective Australia Acts (1986).  The second re-branding would be to call 26 January “Treaty Day” although the actual date is less important than the symbolism of the name and Treaty Day could be nominated as the day on which a treaty between the First Nations and the Commonwealth could be signed.  The trick would be only to name 26 January as the date of the signing, the year a function of whenever the treaty negotiations are complete.  The charm of this approach is the can can be kicked down the road for the foreseeable future.  Any colonial administrator under the Raj would have recognized this fix.