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 et al) 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.

Pixelate

Pixelate (pronounced pik-suh-leyt)

(1) In digital graphics and photography, to cause (an image) to break up (in whole or in part) into pixels, by complete or selective over-enlargement, resulting in blocky blurs.

(2) To blur parts of a digital image by creating unclear, pixel-like patches, for purposes of censorship or to maintain the anonymity of the subject (informal use of the word; technically need not be done by means of pixelation):

1965:  The construct was pixel + -ate.  Pix was a casual form of the abbreviation “pics”, the plural of “pictures”, the spelling with the x in use (initially in magazines and periodicals) since the 1880s.  Pixel dates from 1965 and was a portmanteau word, the blend being pix + el(ement).  It seems first to have been used by taking advantage of advances in the technology of magnification which enabled artists to manipulate images down to the levels of the individual, identifiable, two-dimensional (dots) components.  As the technology moved to screens and the dots became square, single-colored display elements, the word pixel continued to be used.  The noun pixelation (also as pixellation) in the sense of “creation of the effect of animation in live actors" was used first in motion-picture post-production and editing in 1947 and it appears not to have entered general use until the 1990s.  Prior to then, when pixelation was used (typically in newspapers to conceal identities or to obscure body parts or acts thought offensive), the effect was usually described a “blurred” or “blurred-out”.  The suffix -ate was a word-forming element used in forming nouns from Latin words ending in -ātus, -āta, & -ātum (such as estate, primate & senate).  Those that came to English via French often began with -at, but an -e was added in the fifteenth century or later to indicate the long vowel.  It can also mark adjectives formed from Latin perfect passive participle suffixes of first conjugation verbs -ātus, -āta, & -ātum (such as desolate, moderate & separate).  Again, often they were adopted in Middle English with an –at suffix, the -e appended after circa 1400; a doublet of –ee.  Pixelate, pixelize & pixelating are verbs, pixelization & pixelation are nouns, pixelated is a verb & adjective and pixelized is an adjective.

It shouldn’t be confused with the similar but completely unrelated (and usually whimsical) term pixilated, the construct of that being pixi(e) + (titill)ated, the blend of pixie and titillated suggesting an individual behaving in an eccentric manner, as though led by pixies (although it was used for a while by the news media as a euphemism for “drunk” until “tired and emotional” became preferred.  It’s always been rare but in the sense of the eccentric the synonyms include abnormal & eccentric while whimsically it implies the idiosyncratic, outlandish, peculiar, playful, quirky or unconventional.  It dates, as a dialectical form of US English, from the New England region in 1848 but entered general use in 1936 when used in a popular movie.  A pixie in this context was a figure from mythology, fantasy literature & fairy tales and was a playful sprite, elf-like or fairy-like creature.  In slang, it referred to a young, petite girl with a certain short-cut hair-style (or the style itself as “the pixie-cut).  In the technical language of astronomy & meteorology, pixie is the name of an upper-atmospheric optical phenomenon associated with thunderstorms, a short-lasting pinpoint of light on the surface of convective domes that produces a gnome.  Titillate was from the Latin tītillātus, from tītillō & tītillāre (to tickle) and was used usually to suggest acts which stimulated desire or excited sensually.

Loewe’s “pixelated glitches”, Paris Fashion Week, October 2022.

In a more convention vein, Loewe also list a crew neck sweater in wool with pixel intarsia in multi-tone brown with ribbed collar, cuffs and hem at Stg£750 (US$905).

Displayed at Paris Fashion Week in October 2022, Loewe's Metaverse Fashion Works IRL (an initialism of “in real life”, borrowed from literary criticism which, in internet slang imparts, “as opposed to online”) was the latest take on the pixelated look and the most obvious attempt yet to emulate IRL the look as it appears on screens.  Although catwalks are noted as a place designers can show pieces which generate much publicity without being likely to attract many buyers, Loewe confirmed the pixelized clothing items (a hoodie, dress, and pair of pants) will be part-numbers and appear in the Spring 2023 collection.  The show notes described the look as "a pixelated glitch" and, photographed sympathetically, the effect was well-executed although there are limitations in the extent to which an inherently 2D look can translate into 3D (IRL).  Whether many of the Minecraft generation are used to paying the prices Loewe’s customer base can afford is unlikely but the way the industry works is that when a thing trends, the sweatshops east of Suez quickly are commissioned to do runs of cheap knock-offs and Meta might actually be grateful the look has generated so many clicks, Loewe’s toe in the metaverse’s stylistic water one of the few supportive gestures which suggests there might be people interested in digital-style clothes.

Pixelation by Anrealage at Japan Fashion Week, 2011 

Shoes (by Kunihiko Morinaga san, out of Picasso).

The idea has though been around for a while.  Japanese designer Kunihiko Morinaga san’s (b 1980) fall/winter 2011/2012 collection for Anrealage at Japan Fashion Week included some pixelated fabrics in what was a deliberately nostalgic showcase for those who remembered, with a fondness inexplicable except as a memory of a dissolute youth, 8-bit graphics.  The look extended to the heels on shoes but that did display the limitations imposed IRL when a 2D effect is seen in 3D, morphed into cubism circa 1908.

Lindsay Lohan, pixelated.

Loewe's Spring 2023 collection on the catwalk.  Catwalk models are famously the most gloomy-looking souls on the planet but one who must have looked at one of the more bizarre pieces couldn't suppress a smile.  She may have been sent to the fashion gulag.

Enormous & Enormity

Enormous (pronounced ih-nawr-muhs)

(1) Greatly exceeding the common size, extent; huge; immense.

(2) Outrageous or atrocious; extremely wicked; heinous (archaic).

1525-1535: From the Latin ēnormis (irregular, unusual, enormous, immense out of rule, shapeless, extraordinary, very large), an assimilated form of ex- (out of, away) + norma (rule, norm, pattern) + the English –ous substituted for the Latin -is.  The modern meaning (extraordinary in size; very big) is attested from 1540s, the original sense was "outrageous" and more obviously preserved in enormity.  The earlier spelling from the mid-fifteenth century was enormyous (exceedingly great, monstrous).  The –ous suffix is from the Middle English -ous, from the Old French –ous & -eux, from the Latin -ōsus (full, full of); A doublet of -ose in an unstressed position.  It was used to form adjectives from nouns, to denote possession or presence of a quality in any degree, commonly in abundance.  In chemistry, it has a specific technical application, used in the nomenclature to name chemical compounds in which a specified chemical element has a lower oxidation number than in the equivalent compound whose name ends in the suffix -ic.  For example sulphuric acid (H₂SO₄) has more oxygen atoms per molecule than sulphurous acid (H₂SO₃).  Synonyms include colossal, excessive, gargantuan, gigantic, huge, humongous, immense, mammoth, massive, monstrous, prodigious, vast, astronomic, gross & jumbo.  Enormous is an adjective, enormously is the adverb and enormousness the noun.

Enormity (pronounced ih-nawr-mi-tee)

(1) Outrageous or heinous character; atrociousness; as an offense; extreme wickedness.

(2) Greatness of size, scope, extent, or influence; immensity (archaic).

1425–1475: From the Late Middle English enormite & ēnorme (monstrous or unnatural act; enormity), from the Old French énormité (extravagance, atrocity, heinous sin), from the Latin enormitatem, nominative ēnormitās (irregularity, enormity, hughness), the construct being ēnōrmis (irregular, unusual, enormous, immense out of rule, shapeless, extraordinary, very large) + -itās (the suffix forming nouns indicating states of being).  The –ity suffix was from the French -ité, from the Middle French -ité, from the Old French –ete & -eteit (-ity), from the Latin -itātem, from -itās, from the primitive Indo-European suffix –it.  It was cognate with the Gothic –iþa (-th), the Old High German -ida (-th) and the Old English -þo, -þu & -þ (-th).  It was used to form nouns from adjectives (especially abstract nouns), thus most often associated with nouns referring to the state, property, or quality of conforming to the adjective's description.  Synonyms include depravity, horror, magnitude, abomination, atrociousness, atrocity, crime, disgrace, evil, evilness, grossness, heinousness, monstrosity, nefariousness, outrage, outrageousness & rankness.  The noun plural is enormities.

Lindsay Lohan with enormous inflatable toy zebra, V Magazine's Black and White Ball, Standard Hotel, New York, September 2011.

Enormity is a classic case study in (1) meaning adoption in English and (2) why such changes should be accepted where, whatever the etymological tradition, the new meaning makes more sense than the old and good replacement words exist to service the previous meaning.  The modern convention is that enormous means “extreme” in the sense of a pure, neutral measure of dimension and enormity means “extremely heinous or wicked; most awful”.  Enormity being often used as a synonym for "enormousness," rather than "great wickedness" means the potential exists to confuse readers where the intended meaning may not be otherwise derived from context.  There are pedants on both sides (1) those who point to the different roots in French, and radically different accepted meanings and (2) those who note the same source in Latin and the long pattern of use in English.  While it’s true enormity has continuously and frequently been used in the sense of “physical or dimensional immensity” since the eighteenth century, it’s really not helpful given that “enormous” exists and meaning will always be clear.  It’s true that examples do exist where enormity can, without apparently being misleading, serve to describe both the scale and atrociousness of the holocaust or the gulag but it’s true also that there are examples where it might provoke misunderstanding: given the troubled history, one should not speak of the enormity of the Congo were one intending to allude to it being a vast land mass.

Thematic consistancy: Lindsay Lohan at home, Venice Beach, California, June, 2011.  On the wall is one of two enormous images of Lindsay Lohan which decorate the triplex.  

Gulag

Gulag (pronounced goo-lahg)

(1) The system of forced-labor camps in the Soviet Union (with initial capital).

(2) Individually, a Soviet forced-labor camp (usually with initial capital).

(3) By association, any prison or detention camp, especially one used for political prisoners (usually not with initial capital).

(4) Figuratively, any place regarded as undesirable or one perceived as being a “punishment-post” (not with initial capital).

(5) Figuratively, any system used to silence dissent (not with initial capital).

1930-1931: From the Russian ГУЛА́Г (GULÁG, GULag or Gulág), the acronym (Гла́вное управле́ние исправи́тельно-трудовы́х лагере́й (Glávnoje upravlénije ispravítelʹno-trudovýx lageréj) translated usually as “Main Directorate of Corrective Labor Camps” but also, inter alia, “Chief Administration of Corrective-Labor Camps”, “Main Directorate for Places of Detention”, “Main Administration of Corrective Labor Camps” etc.).  The noun plural was Gulags.

An example of the way in which a bland acronym (like the 1933 Gestapo (an abbreviated form of the German Geheime Staatspolizei (the construct being Ge(heime) Sta(ats)po(lizei), literally “secret state police”) can become a byword for something awful, although technically, the acronym GULag (Glávnoje upravlénije ispravítelʹno-trudovýx lageréj (Main Directorate of Corrective Labor Camps)) didn’t come into use until 1930, the origin of what quickly would evolve into a vast, nation-wide network of concentration camps lies in the legal device created almost immediately after the Bolsheviks seized power in Russia in 1917.  This was the concept of the “class enemy”, a logical crime to gazette under Marxist-Leninist theory and one that could be applied literally to anybody, regardless of their conduct; it was essentially the same idea as the crime of “unspecified offences” which appears in the judicial sentences of some authoritarian states.  Russia, as many of the Bolsheviks knew from personal experience, had a long tradition of “internal exile” and the new regime extended this concept, creating concentration camps for class enemies where convicts were required to perform useful manual labor (forestry, mining, quarrying etc).

The early camps, authorized by decree in April 1919, were the prisoner of war (POW) facilities which had become redundant after the Treaty of Brest-Litovsk (March 1918) which concluded hostilities between Russia and the Central Powers although the first model camp was in the White Sea region, in what were once the Orthodox Church's monastery buildings on the Solovetsky Islands and the first prisoners were anti-Bolsheviks, mostly left-wing intellectuals and members of the White Army.  The Cheka, the Russian secret police (the first in the alphabet soup of the names adopted (Cheka, GPU, OGPU, NKGB, NKVD, SMERSH, MGB, (most famously) KGB & FSB), was allocated the role of administration.  Reflecting the love secret police everywhere have for mysterious acronyms, the Cheka created SLON (Northern Camps of Special Significance) as an administrative template for the Solovetsky Islands which, briefly, was the only camp complex in the Soviet state.  The number of concentration (usually described as “correctional labor”) camps grew sufficiently during the 1920s to outgrow the bureaucratic structures initially formed by the Cheka and in 1930 the GULag was created as a separate division of the secret police which worked in conjunction with the Soviet Ministry of the Interior overseeing the use of the physical labor of prisoners.  Although the camps were sometimes used for those guilty of “normal” criminal offences, the great majority of inmates were political prisoners who were sometimes genuine political dissidents but could be there for entirely arbitrary reasons or even as victims of personal vendettas.  In these aspects there are parallels with the Nazi's concentration camps which also worked as systems of coercion, punishment & repression although the GULag never had a programme industrially to exterminate an entire race.  There was another striking similarity in the camp architecture of the two dictatorships which were nominally ideological opponents.  The German equivalent of the GULag, the Konzentrationlager is remembered for the words Arbeit macht frei (work makes you free) rendered in wrought iron above the gates of Auschwitz I; the inscription через труд (through labor (ie get back home through working)) was the message at the prisoners' entrance to the Magaden camp in Siberia.      

What is sometime neglected in the history of the GULag (and other systems of concentration camps) is that while it is well-understood as part of a system of repression, there were genuine attempts to locate the camps in places where the labor extracted from the inmates could be applied to the maximum benefit for the state, something of great significance because in 1929 comrade Stalin (1878–1953; Soviet leader 1922–1953) announced a programme of rapid industrialization and the first of a succession of five-year plans. In support of this, the Politburo abolished any distinction between political and other crimes and intruded a unified network of camps to replace the hitherto dual prison system.  From this point, accelerating from the mid-1930s, archipelagos of camps were built (substantially by the prisoners) close to sites of huge economic projects such as a canal from the White Sea to the Baltic Sea, gold mining in Kolyma and lines of communications such as the Baikal-Amur Mainline.

The GULag’s second great growth spurt happened during Stalin’s “Great Terror” in 1936-1938 when the upper echelons of the Communist Party, the armed forces, the civil service and even the GULag management were subject to purges and while there were many executions, most were sent to the camps which, never designed for such numbers, were unable to handle the mass influx and the already high death rate increased sometimes threefold.  During comrade Stalin's great purges, the (whispered) joke was that the Russian population consisted of (1) those in the gulag, (2) those just released and (3) those about to go back.  On a somewhat smaller scale, rapid inflows also happened in the early years of World War II because of the need to imprison those deported from territory just occupied by the Soviet Union (Eastern Poland, the Baltics, Bessarabia) but this pressure on capacity was more than off-set by the sudden release of many prisoners to meet the needs of the Red Army which had suffered massive losses in the Nazi invasion.  Needing troops, all was suddenly forgiven and it wouldn’t be until 1945 that the numbers in the camps began again to trend upwards, reflecting the waves of arrests among the ranks of the Red Army, former German POWs and ethnic minorities, including Soviet Jews.  The Cold War also fed the GULag.  In 1948-1949, Stalin launched the construction of new megalomaniacal projects, including the Volga-Don Canal, new power stations, dams, and communications, among them the Dead Road and a tunnel and railway to Sakhalin Island, both of which, despite a horrific death-toll, proved impossible to build and were cancelled when Stalin died in 1953.

After Stalin’s death, an amnesty was announced for many of those serving sentences for criminal offences and almost all of those deemed to have committed “minor offences” were released although political prisoners remained imprisoned and it wasn’t until “the thaw” under Nikita Khrushchev (1894–1971; Soviet leader 1953-1964) that widespread releases were ordered after almost four million political crime cases were reviewed and in 1957, as one of a number of reforms, the GULag was abolished and most of the camps shut down.  Khrushchev himself announced that the Soviet economy would no longer based on the slave labor of prisoners which, as a piece of economic analysis was true but while the numbers of political prisoners fell, they did not disappear although they tended now to be only imprisoned for genuine opposition to the regime, dispatched most frequently to labor camps in Mordovia or in camps clustered around the Urals. The conditions remained grim but the death rates were tiny compared to those suffered in Stalin’s time but what also disguised the extent of post-Stalinist repression was than many dissidents were technically not imprisoned but instead declared insane and incarcerated in psychiatric hospitals, many of which closely resembled prisons.  There, the “insane” were often subject to cruel & unusual “medical” procedures.

The number of people who passed through the GULag can never exactly be known but, using archival material which became accessible after the Soviet Union was dissolved in 1991, historians have estimated between 15-18 million were imprisoned and the death-toll may have been almost 10%, the overwhelming majority of whom were from Russia or the constituent republics of the USSR but others were foreigners, mostly Czechoslovaks, Poles, Hungarians & Frenchmen.  The network of camps dotted around the USSR consisted of almost 500 administrative centres, each running as few as dozens or as many as hundreds of individual camps, historians having documented just under 30,000.  In the West the term GULag became widely known only after the publication in 1973 Russian of novelist Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn's (1918–2008) three-volume The Gulag Archipelago, described by the author as "An Experiment in Literary Investigation" which he wrote between 1958-1968, using documentary sources including legal papers, interviews, diaries, statements and his personal experience as a GULag prisoner.

Map of the GULag camp distribution, Plain Talk magazine, 1950.

However, both the system of slavery and the word “GULag” had, during comrade Stalin’s time, been publicized in the West, remarkably accurate maps published in 1950 in the US in Plain Talk (A US anti-communist monthly magazine, 1946–1950) magazine but, despite it being the high Cold War, the revelations didn’t resonate in public consciousness as they would a generation later when Solzhenitsyn released The Gulag Archipelago.

Oligarch

Oligarch (pronounced ol-i-gahrk)

(1) In political science, one of the rulers in an oligarchy (a system of government characterized by the institutional or constructive rule of a few and the literal or effective exclusion of the many); a member of an oligarchy.

(2) A very rich person involved in business in a manner which interacts intimately with the organs of government, the nature of the relationship varying between systems but usually with the implication of mutually beneficial corrupt or improper (if sometimes technically lawful) conduct.

(3) In cosmogony, a proto-planet formed during oligarchic accretion.

1600-1610: From the French oligarque & olygarche, from the Late Latin oligarcha, from the Ancient Greek ὀλιγάρχης (oligárkhēs) and related to oligarkhia (government by the few), the construct being olig- (few) (from stem of oligos (few, small, little) (a word of uncertain origin)) +‎ -arch (ruler, leader) (from arkhein (to rule)).  The noun plural was oligarchs.  In English, an earlier form of oligarchy was the circa 1500 oligracie, a borrowing from the Old French.  Oligarch & oligarchy are nouns, oligarchal, oligarchical & oligarchic are adjectives, and oligarchically is an adverb; the noun plural is oligarchs.  The playful minigarch (the offspring of an oligarch) and oligarchette (a female oligarch or an aspiring oligarch not yet rich enough to be so described are both non-standard while oligarchie & oligarchisch are sometimes used to convey a deliberate sense of the foreign.  Oligarch is now almost never used in its classical sense to refer to rulers of a political entity but instead to describe the small numbers of those who have become exceedingly rich, usually in some improper (even if technically lawful) way with the corrupt and surreptitious cooperation of those in government, the implication being they too have benefited.  Words like plutocrat, potentate and tycoonocrat are sometimes used as synonyms but don’t covey the sense of gains improperly and corruptly achieved.

Oligarchs are sometimes described in the press as "colorful characters", something a bit misleading because many seek a low profile, something often advisable in Mr Putin's Russia.  In a movie about oligarchs Netflix presumably would focus on some of the more colorful.

In modern use, an oligarch is one of the select few people who have become very rich by virtue of their close connections to rule or influence leaders in an oligarchy (a government in which power is held by a select few individuals or a small class of powerful people).  Unlike the relationship between “monarch” & “monarchy”, “oligarch” & “oligarchy” are not used in the literature of political science in quite the same way.  A monarch’s relationship to their monarchy is a thing defined by the constitutional system under which they reign and that may be absolute, despotic or theocratic but is inherently directly linked.  However, even in a political system which is blatantly and obviously an oligarchy, the members of the ruling clique are not referred to as oligarchs by virtue of their place in the administration, the more common descriptors being autocrat, despot, fascist, tyrant, dictator, totalitarian, authoritarian, kleptocrat or other terms that to varying degrees hint at unsavoriness.  Instead, the word oligarch has come to be used as a kind of encapsulated critique of corruption and economic distortion and the individual oligarch a personification of that.  The modern oligarch is one who has massively profited, usually by gaining in some corrupt way either the resources which once belonged to the state or trading rights within the state which tend towards monopolistic or oligopolistic arrangements.  Inherent in the critique is the assumption that the corrupt relationship is a symbiotic one between oligarch and those in government, the details of which can vary: oligarchs may be involved in the political process or entirely excluded but a common feature to all such arrangements is that there is a mutual enrichment at the expense of the sate (ie the citizens).  The word oligarch has thus become divorced from oligarchy and attached only to oligopoly.

The word oligopoly dates from 1887, from the Medieval Latin oligopolium, the construct being the Ancient Greek ὀλίγος (olígos) (few) + πωλεῖν (poleîn) (to sell) from the primitive Indo-European root pel (to sell) and describes a market in which an industry is dominated by a small number of large-scale sellers called oligopolists (the adjectival form oligopolistic from a surprisingly recent 1939).  Oligopolies, which inherently reduce competition and impose higher prices on consumers do not of necessity form as a result of improper or corrupt collusion and may be entirely organic, the classic example of which is two competitors in a once broad market becoming increasingly efficient, both achieving such critical mass that others are unable to compete.  At that point, there is often a tendency for the two to collude to divide the market between them, agreeing not to compete in certain fields or geographical regions, effectively creating sectoral or regional monopolies.  If competitors do emerge, the oligopolists have sufficient economic advantage to be able temporarily to reduce their selling prices to below the cost of production & distribution, forcing the completion from the market, after which the profitable price levels are re-imposed.

A classic game theory model of oligopolistic behavior.

Although not thought desirable by economists, they’ve long attracted interest interest because they create interesting market structures, especially when they interact with instruments of government designed to prevent their emergence or at least ameliorate the consequences of their operation.  The most obvious restriction governments attempt to impose is to prevent collusion between oligopolists in an attempt to deny them the opportunity to set prices of particular goods.  Even if successful, this can only ever partially be done because most prices quickly become public knowledge and with so few sellers in a market, most of which tend to operate with similar input, production & distribution costs, each oligopolist can in most cases predict the actions of the others. This has been of interest in game theory because the decisions of one player are not only in reaction to that of the others but also influences their behavior.

Dartz Prombron: The Prombron is now typical of the preferred transport for an oligarch, the traditional limousine not able to be configured to offer the same level of protection against attacks with military-grade weapons.  Prombrons were originally trimmed with leather from the foreskins of whale penises but the feature was dropped after protests from the environmental lobby.

Oligarchs in the modern sense operate differently and the Russian model under Mr Putin has become the exemplar although some on a smaller scale (notably Lebanon since 1990) are probably even more extreme.  The Russian oligarchs emerged in the 1990s in the chaos which prevailed after the dissolution of the old Soviet Union.  They were men, sometime outside government but often apparatchiks within, well-skilled in the corruption and the operations of the black market which constituted an increasingly large chunk of the economy in the last decade of the USSR and these skills they parlayed into their suddenly capitalistic world.  Capitalism however depends on there being private property and because the USSR was constructed on the basis of Marxist theory which demanded it was the state which owned and controlled the means of production and distribution, there was little of that.  So there was privatization, some of it officially and much of it anything but, the classic examples being a back-channel deal between the oligarch and someone in government purporting to be vested with the authority to sell the assets of the state.  Few in government did this without a cut (often under the guise of a equity mechanism called “loans for shares”) and indeed, some apparatchiks sold the assets to themselves and those assets could be nice little earners like oil & gas concessions or producers, electricity generators, transport networks or financial institutions.  One of the reasons the assets were able to be sold at unbelievably bargain prices was a product of Soviet accounting: because the book value of assets had so little meaning in communist accounting, in many cases recorded asset values hadn’t be updated in decades and were in any case sometimes only nominal.  There were therefore sales which, prima facie, might have appeared to verge on the legitimate.

2021 Aurus Senat, now the official presidential car of the Russian state.

Few were and in any event, even if the aspiring oligarch didn’t have the cash, somewhere in government there would be found an official able to arrange the state to loan the necessary fund from the resources of the state, if need be creating (effectively printing) the money.  From that point, newly acquitted assets could be leveraged, sold to foreign investors at huge profit or even operated in the novelty of the free market, an attractive proposition for many given the asset obtained from the state might be a natural monopoly, competition therefore of no immediate concern.  Thus was modern Russian capitalism born of what were economic crimes on a scale unimaginable to the legions condemned to death or years in the Gulag under comrade Stalin.  Even before becoming prime-minister in 1999, Mr Putin was well aware of what had happened, being acquainted with some of the players in the process but shortly after assuming office, he had small a team of lawyers, accountants and economists undertake a forensic analysis to try more accurately to quantify who did what and who got how much.  Although the paperwork his investigative project produced has never been made public, it was reputed to have been reduced to a modestly-sized file but the contents were dynamic and put to good use.

In either 2003 or 2004, Mr Putin, assisted by officers of the FSB (successor to the alphabet-soup of similar agencies (Cheka, GPU, OGPU, NKGB, NKVD, SMERSH, MGB & (most famously) KGB)) experts in such things, “arranged” a series of interviews with the oligarchs whose conduct in the privatizations of 1990s had been most impressive (or egregious depending on one’s view).  Well aware of the relationship between wealth and political influence, Mr Putin’s explained that the oligarchs had to decide whether they wished to be involved in business or politics; they couldn’t do both.  Mr Putin then explained the extent of their theft from the state, how much was involved, who else facilitated and profited from the transactions and what would be the consequences for all concerned were the matters to come to trial.  Then to sweeten the deal, Mr Putin pointed out that although the oligarchs had stolen their wealth on the grandest scale, “they had stolen it fair and square” and could keep it if they agreed to refrain from involvement in politics.  The Russian oligarchy understood his language, the lucidity of his explanation perhaps enhanced by oligarch Mikhail Khodorkovsky (b 1963; then listed as the richest man in Russia and in the top-twenty worldwide) being arrested on charges of fraud and tax evasion, shortly before the meetings were convened (he was convicted in 2005 and sentenced to nine years in prison and while serving his sentence was charged with and found guilty of embezzlement and money laundering.  Mr Putin later pardoned Khodorkovsky and he was released to self-imposed exile in late 2013).  Few failed to note the significance of Mr Khodorkovsky having been "meddling in politics". 

Mr Putin being taken for a drive by George W Bush (b 1946; George XLIII, US president 2001-2009) in the Russian president's GAZ M21 Volga and admiring his 2009 Lada Niva.

In a sign the oligarchs were wise to comply, it was estimated by Bill Browder (b 1964; CEO and co-founder of the once Moscow-linked Hermitage Capital Management) during his testimony to the US Senate Judiciary Committee in 2017 that the biggest single increase in Mr Putin’s personal wealth happened immediately after Mr Khodorkovsky was jailed.  Given the history, Mr Browder is perhaps not an entirely impartial viewer but the pact between the autocrat and the oligarchy has been well-understood for years but what has always attracted speculation is the possibility that attached to it was a secret protocol whereby Mr Putin received transactional fees, imposing essentially a license to operate in Russia, alleged by some to be a cut of as much as 50%, based apparently on assessed profits rather than turnover.  Even if a half-share is too high and his cut is a more traditional 10%, the amount payable over the years would have been a very big number so there’s been much speculation about Mr Putin’s money, some estimates suggesting he may have a net wealth in the US$ billions.  That would seem truly impressive, given the Kremlin each year publishes a disclosure of their head of state’s income and assets and the last return disclosed Mr Putin enjoys an annual salary of US$140,000 and owns an 800-square-foot (74 m²) apartment, his other notable assets being three cars: a 1960 (first series) GAZ M21 Volga, a 1965 (second series) GAZ M21P Volga and a 2009 Lada Niva 4x4.  Keen on the outdoors, he also owns a camping trailer.

A country cottage on the Black Sea coast alleged to be owned by Mr Putin.  The large grounds surrounding the cottage are an indication why Mr Putin needs his 2009 Lada 4x4 & camping trailer.

On the basis of that, income and net wealth seem not at all out of alignment but intriguingly, he’s been photographed with some high-end watches on his wrist, including an A. Lange & Söhne 1815 Tourbograph which sells for around US$500,000.  He is rumored to be the owner of a 190,000 square-foot (17,650 m²) mansion which sits atop a cliff overlooking the Black Sea (reputedly Russia’s largest private residence and known, in a nod to the understated manner of the rich, as “Putin’s country cottage”) which has an ice hockey rink, a casino, a nightclub with stripper poles, an extravagantly stocked wine cellar and the finest furniture in Louis XIV style, the toilet-roll holders apparently at US$1,250 apiece (although, given the scale of the place, he may have received a bulk-purchase discount).  It demands a full-time staff of forty to maintain the estate, the annual running costs estimated at US$2-3 million.  Designed by Italian architect Lanfranco Cirillo (b 1959), and officially owned (though alleged to be held under a secret trust of which Mr Putin is the sole beneficiary) by oligarch Alexander Ponomarenko (b 1964), the construction cost was estimated to be somewhere around a US$ billion which seems expensive but a yacht currently moored in Italy and alleged also to belong to Mr Putin is said to have cost not much less to launch so either or both may actually represent good value and to assure privacy, the Russian military enforces a no-fly zone around the property.  Like many well-connected chaps around the world, a few of Mr Putin’s billions figured in the release of the Panama Papers in 2016.

1962 GAZ-M21 (rebuilt to KGB (V8) specifications).

Apart from the Black Sea palace, there are unverified reports Mr Putin is the owner of 19 other houses, 58 aircraft & helicopters and 700 cars (although it’s not clear if that number includes his two Volgas and the Lada).  No verified breakdown of the 700 cars has ever been published but given Mr Putin’s apparent fondness for Volgas, it may be his collection includes the special-variant of the GAZ-M21 Volga, 603 (as the GAZ-M23) of which were produced between 1962-1970 for the exclusive use of the KGB and other Soviet “special services”.  Equipped with the 5.53 litre (337 cubic inch) V8 engine from the big GAZ-13 Chaika (Gull) (1959-1981 and in the Soviet hierarchy, second only to the even bigger ZIL limousines (1936-2012)), the car was said to be a not entirely successful piece of engineering but it was certainly faster than the four-cylinder model on which it was based.  It’s never been clear just what was the top speed because the speedometer was calibrated only to 180 km/h (112 mph) but one intrepid KGB apparatchik claimed to have achieved that and reported the Volga was “still accelerating”.  Known to be nostalgic for the old ways of the KGB, it’s hoped Mr Putin has preserved at least one.

Mr Putin agitprop.

Mr Putin has admitted: "I am the wealthiest man, not just in Europe but in the whole world: I collect emotions. I am wealthy in that the people of Russia have twice entrusted me with the leadership of a great nation such as Russia. I believe that is my greatest wealth."  Quite how rich Mr Putin might be is such a swirl of estimates, rumors, supposition and doubtlessly invention (lies) that it's unlikely anyone except those disinclined to discuss the matter really know and after all, if he's rich as his detractors claim, he probably isn't exactly sure himself.  Given that, his statement seemed intended to clear up any misunderstandings.