Burlesque

Burlesque (pronounced ber-lesk)

(1) An artistic composition, especially literary or dramatic, that, for the sake of laughter, vulgarizes lofty material or treats ordinary material with mock dignity.

(2) A humorous and provocative (often bawdy) stage show featuring slapstick humor, comic skits and a scantily clad female chorus; by the late nineteenth century striptease was often the main element (the usual slang was burleycue).

(3) As neo-burlesque, a late twentieth century revival (with rather more artistic gloss) of the strip-tease shows of the 1920s.

(4) An artistic work (especially literary or dramatic), satirizing a subject by caricaturing it.

(5) Between the seventeenth and nineteenth centuries, a play parodying some contemporary dramatic fashion or event.

(6) A production of some kind involving ludicrous or mocking treatment of a solemn subject; an absurdist imitation or caricature.

(7) Of, relating to, or characteristic of a burlesque; of, relating to, or like stage-show burlesque.

(8) To represent or imitate (a person or thing) in a ludicrous way; caricature.

(9) To make ridiculous by mocking representation.

(10) To in some way use a certain type of caricature.

1650–1660: From the French burlesque, from the Italian burlesco (ludicrous and used in the sense of “parodic”), the construct being burl(a) (joke, fun, mockery) + -esco (the adjectival suffix used in English as –esque).  The Italian burla may ultimately be from the Late Latin burra (trifle, nonsense (and literally “flock of wool”) and thus used to suggest something “fluffy” (in the sense of being “lightweight” rather than serious) which was of unknown origin.  Alternatively, some etymologists suggest burla may be from the Spanish burladero (the protective barrier behind which people in the bullring are protected from the bull).  The verb burlesque (make ridiculous by mocking representation) came directly from the noun and was in use by the 1670s.  The spelling burlesk is archaic.  While the derived form unburlesqued means simply “not burlesqued”, preburlesque is a historian's term meaning “prior to the introduction of burlesque performances”.  Burlesque, burlesquer & burlesqueness are nouns, burlesqued & burlesquing are verbs and burlesquely is an adverb; the noun plural is burlesques.

The original mid-sixteenth century meaning was related to stage performances and meant “a piece composed in the burlesque style, a derisive imitation or grotesque parody, a specific development from the slightly earlier adjectival sense of “odd or grotesque”, taken directly from the French burlesque.  The more familiar adjectival meaning (tending to excite laughter by ludicrous contrast between the subject and the manner of treating it) was in use by at least the late 1690s.  As a definition that’s fine but in the hands of playwrights, satirists and such there was obviously much scope, prompting one journalist (a breed which seems first to have been described thus in the 1680s) in 1711 to clarify things in a London periodical:

“The two great branches of ridicule in writing are comedy and burlesque. The first ridicules persons by drawing them in their proper characters; the other, by drawing them quite unlike themselves. Burlesque is therefore of two kinds; the first represents mean persons in accoutrements of heroes, the other describes great persons acting and speaking like the basest among the people.”

The meaning shifted as what appeared on stage evolved and by the 1880s the typical understanding was something like (1) “travesties on the classics and satires on accepted ideas” and (2) comic opera which tended towards vulgarity.  From this came the still prevalent modern sense of “variety show featuring music, dancing and striptease” although some historians of the industry link this use directly from the mid-nineteenth century tradition of “scantily-clad performers who staged the sketches concluding minstrel shows”.  The implications of that evolution didn’t impress all and by the early twentieth century, in the US, the word “burlesque” had become verbal shorthand for “entertainment designed to titillate, verging on the obscene while avoiding prosecution”.  The term “neo-burlesque” (a revived form of traditional American burlesque performance, involving dance, striptease, dramatic performance etc) emerged in the 1990s, describing the stage shows which sought to re-capture the once respectable spirit of burlesque as it was performed in US clubs before “changing attitudes” saw the performances outlawed or marginalized.  Whether attitudes really much changed among the general population has been debated by historians but the US political system then (as now) operated in a way in which well-funded groups could exert a disproportionate influence on public policy and while this often was used by sectional interests to gain financial advantage, some also decided to impose on others their view of morality; it was in the era of the crackdown on burlesque shows the Motion Picture Production Code (the so-called “Hays Code” which, remarkably, endured, at least on paper, until 1968!) was created as a set of “moral guidelines” with which the Hollywood studios had to conform.  So the “culture wars” are nothing new and in the US, there has always been a tension between puritan religiosity and political freedom, the two forces reflecting the concerns and obsessions of those from the “Old World” of Europe who in the early seventeenth century founded the settlement which ultimate became what came to be known as “America”.

Although often hardly “respectable” theatre, burlesque has a long tradition in performance and almost its techniques will long pre-date recorded history.  The essence of the form was based on an exaggerated “sending up” or a derisive imitation of a literary or musical work and can be anything from a friendly joke to vicious ridicule.  Historically most associated with some form of stage entertainment, burlesque was distinguished from parody in being usually stronger (though not always broader) in tone and style and often lacked the edgy subtlety of satire.   It was the Athenian playwright of Ancient Greece, Aristophanes (circa 446–386 BC), who the late Medieval scribes declared “the father of comedy” and while that was a little misleading, he would occasionally use the device of burlesque in his plays though the satyr plays probably were the first institutionalized form of burlesque.

Empire Burlesque (1985) by Bob Dylan (b 1941).

Early in his long career, Bob Dylan must have noticed the press seemed to be more interested in discussing the stuff about which he didn’t comment that that which he’d taken the time to explain.  Whether or not that’s a factor, Dylan appears never to have explained the meaning behind the title of his 1985 album, Empire Burlesque.  Although some speculated it may have been a metaphor for the nature of “the American Empire” (however defined), there’s nothing substantive to support the speculation and a more grounded theory came from the Beat poet Allen Ginsberg (1926–1997) who recounted how Dylan had once told him: “That was the name of a burlesque club I used to go to when I first came to New York, down on Delancey Street.”  Ginsberg thought it “a good title” for an album.

Intriguingly, the satyr play was a kind of coda.  In Greek theatre, the convention was to present four plays in succession: three tragedies (though not necessarily a trilogy) with a satyr play appended as the final piece.  Typically, in a satyr play, a mythical hero (who may have appeared in one or all of the foregoing tragedies) was presented as a ridiculous personage with a chorus of satyrs (creatures half man and half goat (or half horse) with prominent, erect phalluses (it was satyr imagery which in Europe made the goat a symbol of lust and, two millennia on, cynical Berliners would refer to the notoriously philandering Dr Joseph Goebbels (1897-1975; Nazi propaganda minister 1933-1945) as “the he-goat of Berlin”)).  As far as is known, the satyr plays almost always were ribald in speech and action as well as in costume and their purpose has been debated by historians.  While classical Greek tragedy is almost wholly devoid of comedy (in the sense of set-pieces although there’s the occasional sardonic quip or grim observation that would have enticed a laconic guffaw) the satyr play concluding the tetralogy would have worked as a sort of palliative burlesque after the catharsis of three acts of fear, loathing and, not infrequently, death,  Their dramatic function clearly was a form of comic relief but coming immediately after three works of earnest high-seriousness, they must have has the effect of “calming the senses” of the audience after the intense, exalting spiritual experience of the tragedies.  That’s interesting in that it implies it was thought desirable to return the audience to “earthly life” and remind them what they had just experienced was not “reality” and their emotions had just been manipulated by a technique.  It all sounds rather post-modern and in a similar literary vein, the “clowning interludes” in Elizabethan plays can also be seen as a type of burlesque; in William Shakespeare’s (1564–1616) A Midsummer Night's Dream (1590) the interpolation of the play of Pyramus and Thisbe performed by Bottom and his companions was the bard making fun of the “Interludes” of earlier types.

An expanded vista derailing the Pronomos Vase (red-figure pottery Ancient Greece, circa 400 BC) believed to depict the whole cast and chorus of a satyr play, along with the playwright, the musician Pronomos, and the gods Dionysos and Ariadne.  The scene is thought to capture the figures after a performance which, in modern use, would be thought a “behind the scenes” grab.   The vase was discovered in 1835 in a tomb in Ruvo di Puglia, Italy; it’s now on permanent display in the Museo Nazionale in Naples.

To make things difficult for students, there are linguistic traps in the terminology and despite the similarity in the spelling, there was no connection whatever between satyric drama and satire and some seem convinced there may have been none between it and Greek comedy.  For structuralists, it can be a difficult field to study because over the centuries so many contradictory texts and commentaries emerged and that’s at least partly attributable to the influence of Aristotle (384-322 BC) who looms over the understanding of Greek theatre because his writings came to be so revered by the scholars of the late Medieval period and especially the Renaissance.  As far as in known, the Greeks were the first of the tragedians and it’s through the surviving texts of Aristotle that later understandings were filtered but all of his conclusions were based only on the tragedies and such was his historic and intellectual authority that for centuries his theories came to be misapplied and misused, either by mapping them on to all forms of tragedy or using them as exclusionary, dismissing from the canon those works which couldn’t be made to fit his descriptions.

The Pronomos Vase as displayed in Naples.

Nor was burlesque confined to drama; it was the most common structure used in the mock-heroic poem to ridicule the often overblown works of romance, chivalry and Puritanism.  Dripping often with irony and a confected grave decorum, the classic example is English poet & satirist Alexander Pope’s (1688-1744) The Rape of the Lock (1712), cited by some (however unconvincingly) as the spiritual origin of “high camp”.  Also, because the gothic novel often was written in such self-conscious “high style”, the form lent itself naturally to burlesque re-tellings, something exploited to this day in Hollywood which has often made sequels to horror films in comedic from.  The burlesque (in the sense it was a descendent of the Greek satyr play) could also be positioned as something transgressive although it must be wondered if this sometimes was a product more of the commentator’s view than the positionality intended by the author.  This aspect of burlesque is explored in the genre of literary carnival when a technique is borrowed from the Socratic dialogues (in which what appears to be logic is deconstructed and proved to be illogical).  Carnivalesque elements are inherent in burlesque (and can exist in satire, farce, parody and such) and a theory of Russian philosopher & literary critic Mikhail Bakhtin (1895–1975) was that in its disruption of authority and implication of possible alternatives, carnival in literature was subversive and the use of burlesque in the form was a concealment (in the sense of avoiding the censor’s pen) of what could be a liberating influence; Bakhtin’s particular target was the “suffocatingly sacred word” in Renaissance culture but his theory has more generally been applied.

The noun amphigory (burlesque nonsense writing or verse) dates from 1809 and was from the eighteenth century French amphigouri of unknown origin but presumed by most etymologists to have been a jocular coining although there may have been some influence from the New Latin amphi-, from the Ancient Greek ἀμφί (amphí) (on both sides) and the Greek γύρος (gýros), derived from the “turning of the meat on a spit” (as a calque of Turkish döner into Greek).  The notion was of “making the whole” (ie “circle on both sides”) but a link with the Greek -agoria (speech) (as in allegory, category) has been suggested as a simpler explanation.  The word “amphigory” found a niche in literary criticism and academic use (recommended for students wishing to impress the professor) to describe a particular flavour of burlesque or parody, especially a verse or other text in which the impression is for a while sustained of something which will make sense but ultimately fails, an oft-cited example being Nephelidia (literally “cloudlets”) by the English poet Algernon Charles Swinburne (1837–1909) in which the writer parodies his own distinctive style.

In A Dictionary of Modern English Usage (1926), Henry Fowler (1858–1933) noted the wide application of the words often listed as synonymous with burlesque (caricature, parody, travesty etc), citing the not uncommon use of burlesque to describe a “badly conducted trial” or “a perverted institution”, adding the two critical distinctions were (1) burlesque, caricature & parody have, besides their wider uses, each a special province; action or acting is burlesqued, form and features are caricatured and verbal expression is parodied and (2) travesty differs from the others both in having no special providence and, in being more used than they (though all four may be used either way) when the imitation is intended to be or pass for an exact one but fails.  Were Henry Fowler alive to see TikTok and such, he’d realize not many are reading his book.

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The difficulty in assigning synonyms to “burlesque” is that things are not only nuanced but historically variable; what would in one time and place have been thought satirical might in other circumstances be called a parody.  The earliest known use in English of the noun parody was by the playwright Benjamin Jonson (circa 1572-circa 1637) who would have understood it as something close to the modern definition: “a literary work in which the form and expression of dignified writing are closely imitated but are made ridiculous by the ludicrously inappropriate subject or methods; a travesty that follows closely the form and expression of the original”.  Parody was from the Latin parodia (parody), from the Ancient Greek parōidia (burlesque song or poem), the construct being para- (beside, parallel to (used in this context in the sense “to mock; mockingly to present”)) + ōidē (song, ode) and from the technical use in theatre came the general meaning “a poor or feeble imitation”, in use by at least the late 1820s.  So, depending on the details, a parody could be a type of burlesque but might also be described as a satire, ridicule, lampoon or farce.  It was Benjamin Jonson who in 1609 debuted his “anti-masque” an innovation which took the form of either (1) a buffoonish and grotesque episode before the main masque or (2) a similarly farcical interlude interpolated during the performance (if performed beforehand, it was dubbed an “ante-masque”. One variant of the anti-masque was a burlesque of the masque itself and in that sense there was a distinct affinity with the Greek satyr play.

So in literary use, synonyms for burlesque must be applied on a case-by-case basis, caricature, parody and travesty all used variously to refer to the written or preformed forms imitating serious works or subjects, the purpose being to achieve a humorous or satiric purpose.  In this context, burlesque achieves its effects through a mockery of both high and low through association with their opposites: burlesques of high and low life can thus be though a kind of specific application of irony.  Caricature, usually associated with visual arts or with visual effects in literary works, implies exaggeration of characteristic details, analogous with the technique of the political cartoonist.  Parody achieves humor through application of the manner or technique (typically well-known poets, authors, artists and such), often to an unaccustomed (and, ideally, wholly incongruous) subject while a travesty can be a grotesque form of burlesque, the latter also nuanced because travesties can be intentional or just bad products.  All of these forms can be the work of absurdists, that genre ranging from the subtle to the blatant and they may also be spoofs.  Spoof was a neologism coined in 1884 by the English comedian Arthur Roberts (1852–1933) as the name of a card game which involved deception, trickery and nonsense.  From this the word came to be used of any sort of hoaxing game but it became most popular when used of literary works and staged performances which is some way parodied someone or something but the point about the use of “spoof” is should describe a “gentle” rather than a “biting” satire, elements of the burlesque thus often present in spoofs.

South Park's take on Donald Trump (b 1946; US president 2017-2021 and since 2025).  Somewhere in probably every South Park episode, there are switches between parody, satire, ridicule, lampoon and farce with elements of the burlesque often in each.

A distinction certainly is drawn between political burlesque and political satire.  Political burlesque is a particular application of the satirical which relies on parody and exaggeration (often absurdist) to mock political figures, events, concepts or institutions and the purpose can range from the merely comic to the subversive, the two poles not being mutually exclusive.  In the burlesque, a politician’s traits, patterns of speech or behaviour (scandals are best) are explored and sometimes exaggerated to the point they become obviously ridiculous or absurd, the best practitioners of the art using the amplification to take things to a logical (if improbable) conclusion and while it can be done almost affectionately, the usual purpose is to draw attention to flaws such as incompetence, corruption, indifference to others, hypocrisy or ideological fanaticism.  Essentially a political cartoon writ large, it’s a popular device because in masking the message in humor, there’s usually some protection from a defamation writ, witness the relationship between the animation South Park and Donald Trump.  The tradition is old and evidence is at least hinted in graffiti unearthed in Ancient Rome but material from in recent centuries is extant and techniques of the English artists William Hogarth (1697–1764) and James Gillray (1756-1815) remain in use to this day, illustrating the way political burlesque is best understood as a sub-set of political satire, separate but (often) equal as it were, the differences in tone, method, and degree of exaggeration a matter of tactics rather than strategy.

As an umbrella term, “political satire” has a wide vista in that it can be subtle, dry, ironic & biting, deployed with wit & understatement but it can also switch to (some would say “descend to”) the burlesque in becoming loud, exaggerated and even grotesque in fusing elements of slapstick and farce.  While burlesque amplifies absurdity, venality or whatever is being critiqued, satire need only “point it out” and some very effective satires have done nothing more than quote politicians verbatim, their words “hoisting them with their own petard” if the mixed metaphor will be forgiven.  So, all political burlesque is political satire, but not all political satire is burlesque.  The companion term in politics is vaudevillian and that describes a politician for whom “all the world’s a stage” and politics thus a form of theatre.  Their performances can (sometimes unintentionally) sometimes seem to at least verge on the burlesque but usually it’s about attracting attention and a classic exponent was Boris Johnson (b 1964; UK prime-minister 2019-2022) who was said to have been influenced by Ronald Reagan (1911-2004; US president 1981-1989).  During the 1980 presidential campaign, a reporter asked Mr Reagan: “How can an actor run for President?”, receiving the prompt reply: “How can a president not be an actor?”  Some have of course been more adapt than others at “flicking the switch to vaudeville” and Paul Keating (b 1944; Prime Minister of Australia 1991-1996) whose vocabulary was rich (if not always refined) used to use what he called his “dead cat strategy” which referred to introducing a shocking or controversial issue to divert unwanted attention from other, more embarrassing or damaging news.  It was most graphically expressed as “tossing a dead cat on the table”.

Lindsay Lohan in burlesque mode in I Know Who Killed Me (2007).  Neglected upon its release, IKWKM has since been re-evaluated as a modern giallo and has acquired a cult following, sometimes see on the playbill of late-night screenings.

As popular entertainment, burlesque performance enjoyed a revival which began in the 1990s and in the twenty-first century it’s now an entrenched niche as well a minor industry in publishing.  By the 1960s, what was called burlesque had become rather tatty and the common understanding of the term was something not greatly different from a strip club with a slightly better class of drunk in the audience, the women there to disrobe in the hope of encouraging the sale of expensive alcoholic.  What in the 1990s was dubbed the “neo-burlesque” was not a reprise of how things used to be done but a construct which might be thought a more “women-centric” interpretation of the discipline and while there will be factions of feminism which won’t take that notion too seriously and dismiss as “false consciousness” the idea of women publicly taking off their clothes as a form of “empowerment”, the latter day performers seem to treat it as exactly that.  Despite the criticism of some, burlesque seem now to verge on the respectable and, internationally, there are various burlesque festivals and a Burlesque Hall of Fame (the grand opening, perhaps predictably, in Las Vegas).

Burlesque and the Art of the Teese /Fetish and the Art of the Teese (2006) by Dita Von Teese (stage name of Heather Renée Sweet, b 1972).  Perhaps surprisingly, despite the phrase “the art of the teese” being at least potentially a piece of “ambush marketing” piggy-backing on the success of the acclaimed (48 weeks on The New York Times Best Seller list) book The Art of the Deal by Donald Trump and Tony Schwartz (b 1952), Mr Trump didn’t sue Ms von Teese.  Maybe he’s a burlesque fan-boy.

In the modern era, no figure is more associated with the neo-burlesque than Dita von Teese and her janus-configured book Burlesque and the Art of the Teese / Fetish and the Art of the Teese is similar to Mr Trump’s magnum opus in being a hybrid: part memoir, part instruction manual.  This significance of publishing the burlesque and fetish components as separate sections was presumably to make the point that while there’s obvious cross-fertilization between the two disciplines and for some the former may be a stepping stone to the latter, there is a clear distinction, one a piece of performance art, the other a deliberate statement of deviance; decisively one must step from one into the separate world of the other.  Ms von Teese’s book documents the “dos & don’ts” of each “calling” and. as she explains, the point about the neo-burlesque was it was less a revival than a re-defining, the thematic emphasis on style and glamour rather than sleaze, more aligned with the image (if not exactly the reality) of the Berlin cabarets of the 1920 than the seedy Soho strip joints which once so tarnished the brand.

Vogue

Vogue (pronounced vohg)

(1) Something in fashion at a particular time or in a particular place.

(2) An expression of popular currency, acceptance, or favor.

(3) A highly stylized modern dance that evolved out of the Harlem ballroom scene in the 1960s, the name influenced by the fashion magazine; one who practiced the dance was a voguer who was voguing.

(4) In Polari, a cigarette or to light a cigarette (often in the expression “vogue me up”).

(5) The world's best known women's fashion magazine, the first issue in 1892 and now published by Condé Nast.

1565–1575: From the Middle English vogue (height of popularity or accepted fashion), from the Middle French vogue (fashion, success (literally, “wave or course of success”)), from the Old French vogue (a rowing), from voguer (to row, sway, set sail), from the Old Saxon wegan (to move) & wogōn (to sway, rock), a variant of wagōn (to float, fluctuate), from the Proto-Germanic wagōną (to sway, fluctuate) and the Proto-Germanic wēgaz (water in motion), wagōną (to sway, fluctuate), wēgaz (water in motion) & weganą (to move, carry, weigh), from the primitive Indo-European weǵh- (to move, go, transport (and an influence on the English way).  The forms were akin to the Old Saxon wegan (to move), the Old High German wegan (to move), the Old English wegan (to move, carry, weigh), the Old Norse vaga (to sway, fluctuate), the Old English wagian (to sway, totter), the Proto-West Germanic wagōn, the German Woge (wave) and the Swedish våg.  A parallel development the Germanic forms was the Spanish boga (rowing) and the Old Italian voga (a rowing), from vogare (to row, sail), of unknown origin and the Italianate forms were probably some influence on the development of the verb.  Vogue, voguie & voguer are nouns (voguette an informal noun), voguing is a noun and adjective, vogued is a verb and vogueing & voguish are adjectives; the noun plural is vogues.  The noun voguie is a special use and is a synonym of fashionista ((1) one who creates or promotes high fashion (designers, editors, models, influencers etc) or (2) one who dresses according to the trends of fashion, or one who closely follows those trends).

All etymologists seem to concur the modern meaning is from the notion of being "borne along on the waves of fashion" and colloquially the generalized sense of "fashion, reputation" is probably from the same Germanic source.  The phrase “in vogue” (having a prominent place in popular fashion) was recorded as long ago as 1643.  The fashion magazine (now owned by Condé Nast) began publication in 1892 and young devotees of its advice (they are legion) are voguettes.  In linguistics, vogue words are those words & phrases which become suddenly (although not always neologisms) popular and fade from use or becoming clichéd or hackneyed forms (wardrobe malfunction; awesome; problematic; at this point in time; acid test; in this space; parameters; paradigm etc).  Because it’s so nuanced, vogue has no universal synonym but words which tend to the same meaning (and can in some circumstances be synonymous) include latest, mod, now, rage, chic, craze, currency, custom, fad, favor, mode, popularity, practice, prevalence, style, stylishness, thing, trend & usage.

Lindsay Lohan cover, Vogue (Spanish edition), August 2009.

In Regional English, "vogue" could mean "fog or mist" and in Cornwall, the hamlet of Vogue in the parish of St Day gained its name from the Medieval Cornish vogue (a word for a medieval smelting furnace (ie "blowing house", the places generating much smoke)); civilization contributing to the increase in atmospheric concentrations of greenhouse gasses is nothing new.  Clearly better acquainted with trademark law than geography, in early 2022 counsel for Condé Nast sent a C&D (cease and desist letter) to the inn-keeper of the village’s The Star Inn at Vogue pub, demanding the place change its name to avoid any public perception of a connection between the two businesses.  The owners of the venerable pub declined the request (cheekily suggesting they might send their own C&D to Vogue demanding the publication find a new name on the basis of usurpation (an old tort heard before the Court of Chivalry).  Condé Nast subsequently apologized, citing insufficient investigation by their staff, a framed copy of their letter hung on the pub's wall.  Honor apparently satisfied on both sides, the two Vogues resumed the peaceful co-existence which had prevailed since 1892. 

1981 Range Rover In Vogue from the first run with the standard stylized steel wheels (left) and a later 1981 In Vogue with the three-spoke aluminum units.

Much of the 1970s was spent in what to many felt like a recession, even if there were only some periods in some places during which the technical definition was fulfilled and the novel phenomenon of stagflation did disguise some of the effects.  Less affected than most (of course) were the rich who had discovered a new status-symbol, the Range Rover which, introduced in 1970 had legitimized (though there were earlier ventures) the idea of the "luxury" four-wheel-drive (4WD) segment although the interior of the original was very basic (the floor-coverings rubber mats rather than carpets on the assumption that, as with the even more utilitarian Land Rovers, there would be a need to "hose out" the mud accumulated from a day's HSF (huntin', shootin' & fishin')), the car’s reputation built more on it's then unique blend of competence on, and off-road.  So good was the Range Rover in both roles that owners, used to being cosseted in leather and walnut, wanted something closer to that to which they were accustomed and dealers received enquiries about an up-market version.

Lindsay Lohan at the opening of the Ninety years of Vogue covers exhibition, Crillon Hotel, Paris, 2009.

That had been Rover’s original intention.  The plan had been to release a basic version powered by four cylinder engines and a luxury edition with a V8 but by 1970 time and development funds had run out so the car was released with the V8 power-train and the more spartan interior although it was quickly apparent few owners took advantage of being able to hose out the mud.  Indeed, so skewed was the buyer profile to urban profiles it's likely the only time many ventured off the pavement was to find a good spot in the car parks of polo fields.  In something which must now seem remarkable, although already perceived as a "prestige" vehicle, for the first decade-odd, the Range Rover was not available with either air-conditioning or an automatic transmission.  However, if the rich were riding out the decade well, British Leyland (which owned Rover) was not and it lacked the capital to devote to the project.  Others took advantage of what proved a profitable niche and those with the money (or spending OPM (other people's money) could choose from a variety of limited-production and bespoke offerings including LWB (long-wheelbase) models, four-door conversions, six wheelers and even open-topped versions from a variety of coach-builders such as Wood & Pickett and low-volume manufacturers like Switzerland’s Monteverdi which anticipated the factory by a number of years with their four-door coachwork.

Rendez-vous à Biarritz, Vogue magazine, March 1981.  The eight page advertising supplement was for Lancôme and Jaeger fashion collections, the Wood & Pickett-trimmed Range Rover a "backdrop" which would prove a serendipitous piece of product placement. 

British Leyland was soon subject to one of the many re-organizations which would seek (without success) to make it a healthy corporation and one consequence was increased autonomy for the division making Range Rovers.  No longer compelled to subsidize less profitable arms of the business, attention was turned to the matter of a luxury model, demand for which clearly existed.  To test market reaction, in late 1980, the factory collaborated with Wood & Pickett to design a specially-equipped two-door model as a proof-of-concept exercise to gauge market reaction.  The prototype (HAC 414W) was lent to Vogue magazine, a crafty choice given the demographic profile of the readership and the by then well-known extent of women’s own purchasing power and influence on that of their husbands.  Vogue took the prototype to Biarritz to be the photographic backdrop for the images taken for the magazine’s co-promotion of the 1981 Lancôme and Jaeger fashion collections, published in an eight-page advertising spread entitled Rendez-vous à Biarritz in the March 1981 edition.  The response was remarkable and while Lancôme and Jaeger’s launch attracted polite attention, Vogue’s mailbox (which then received letters in envelopes with postage stamps) was overwhelmingly filled with enquiries about the blinged-up Range-Rover (although "bling" was a linguistic generation away from use).

Vogue's Range Rover In Vogue (HAC 414W) in Biarritz, 1981, all nuts on board or otherwise attached.  The model name was a play on words, Range Rovers very much "in vogue" and this particular version substantially the one "in Vogue".

Rover had expected demand to be strong and the reaction to the Vogue spread justified their decision to prepare for a production run even before publication and the Range Rover In Vogue went on sale early in 1981, the limited-edition run all closely replicating the photo-shoot car except for the special aluminum wheels which were not yet in volume production.  Amusingly, the triple-spoke wheels (similar to the design Ford had used on the 1979 (Fox) Mustang) had been a problem in Biarritz, the factory supplying the wrong lug nuts which had a tendency to fall off, meaning the staff travelling with the car had to check prior to each shoot to ensure five were present on each wheel which would appear in the picture.  Not until later in the year would the wheels be ready so the In Vogue’s went to market with the standard stylized steel units, meaning the brochures had to be pulped and reprinted with new photographs and some small print: "Alloy wheels, as featured on the vehicle used by Vogue magazine will be available at extra cost through Unipart dealers later in 1981".  British Leyland's record-keeping was at the time as chaotic as much of its administration so it remains unclear how many were built.  The factory said the run would be 1,000, all in right hand drive (RHD) but many left hand drive (LHD) examples exist and it’s thought demand from the continent was such another small batch was built although this has never been confirmed.  The In Vogue’s exclusive features were:

Light blue metallic paint (the model-exclusive Vogue Blue) with wide body stripes in two shades of grey (not black as on the prototype).
High compression (9.35:1) version of the V8 (to provide more torque).
Higher high-gear ratio (0.996:1) in the transfer box (to reduce engine speed and thus noise in highway driving).
Air conditioning
Varnished walnut door cappings.
Armrest between the front seats.
Map pockets on the back of the front seats (the rationale for not including the folding picnic tables so beloved by English coach-builders being the design of the Range Rover's rear tailgate had made it the "de-facto picnic table".
Fully carpeted luggage compartment.
Carpeted spare wheel cover and tool-kit curtain.
Picnic hamper.
Stainless steel tailgate cap.
Black wheel hub caps.

The "fitted picnic hamper".

Condé Nast would later describe the In Vogue’s custom picnic hamper as the car’s "pièce de résistance". which might have amused Rover's engineers who would have put some effort into stuff they'd have thought "substantive".  Now usually written in English as "piece de resistance" (masterpiece; the most memorable accomplishment of one’s career or lifetime; one's magnum opus (great work)), the French phrase pièce de résistance (literally the "piece which has staying power") seems first to have appeared in English in Richard Cumberland (1732–1811) novel Arundel (1789).  One can see the writer's point.  Although the walnut, additional torque and certainly the air conditioning would have been selling points, like nothing else, the picnic hamper would have delighted the target market.

Demand for the In Vogue far exceeded supply and additional production runs quickly were scheduled.  In response to customer demand, the most frequently made request was acceded to, the second series available with Chrysler's robust TorqueFlite automatic transmission, introduced at the same time as the debut of a four-door version, another popular enquiry while the three-spoke wheels became standard equipment and equipment levels continued to rise, rear-head restraints fitted along with a much enhanced sound-system.  In what was perhaps a nod to the wisdom of the magazine's editors, although a cooler replaced the hamper for the second run, for the third, buyers received both cooler and hamper.  The third series, launched in conjunction with the Daks autumn fashion collection at Simpson's of Piccadilly, included a digital radio, the convenience of central locking and the almost unnoticed addition of front mud flaps so clearly there was an understanding that despite the Range Rover's well deserved reputation as a "Chelsea taxi", the things did sometimes see the mud and ladies didn't like the stuff getting on their dresses as they alighted.  In 1984, as "Vogue", it became the regular production top-of-the-range model and for many years served in this role although, for licencing reasons, when sole in the US it was called the "Country").  For both companies, the In Vogue and subsequent Vogues turned out to be the perfect symbiosis.

Art and Engineering

Vogue, January 1925, cover art by Georges Lepape.

From the start, Vogue (the magazine) was of course about frocks, shoes and such but its influence extended over the years to fields as diverse as interior decorating and industrial design.  The work of Georges Lepape (1887-1971) has long been strangely neglected in the history of art deco but he was a fine practitioner whose reputation probably suffered because his compositions habitually were regarded as derivative or imitative which seems unfair given there are many who are more highly regarded despite being hardly original.  His cover art for Vogue’s edition of 1 January 1925 juxtaposed one of French artist Sonia Delaunay’s (1885–1979) "simultaneous" pattern dresses and a Voisin roadster decorated with an art deco motif.

1927 Voisin C14 Lumineuse.

One collector in 2015 was so taken with Pepape’s image that when refurbishing his 1927 Voisin C14 Lumineuse (literally “light”, an allusion to the Voisin’s greenhouse-inspired design which allowed natural light to fill the interior), he commissioned Dutch artist Bernadette Ramaekers to hand-paint a geometric triangular pattern in sympathy with that on the Vogue cover in 1925.  Ms Ramaekers took six months to complete the project and when sold at auction in London in 2022, it realized Stg£202,500.  There are few designers as deserving of such a tribute as French aviation pioneer Gabriel Voisin (1880–1973) who made military aircraft during the First World War (1914-1918) and, under the name Avions Voisin, produced a remarkable range of automobiles between 1919-1939, encapsulating thus the whole inter-war period and much of the art deco era.  Because his designs were visually so captivating, much attention has always been devoted to his lines, curves and shapes but the underlying engineering was also interesting although some of his signature touches, like the (briefly in vogue) sleeve valve engine, proved a mirage.

Voisin's extraordinary visions:  1934 C27 Aérosport (left), 1934-1935 Voisin C25 Aérodynes (centre) & 1931 C20 Mylord Demi Berline (right).

Also a cul-de-sac was his straight-12 engine.  Slow-running straight-12 (there is even a straight-14 which displaces 25,340 litres (1,546,000 cubic inches) and produces 107,290 hp (80,080 kW)) engines are known at sea where they’re used in (very) big ships but on the road (apart from some less than successful military vehicles), only Voisin and Packard ever attempted them, the former making two, the latter, one.  Voisin’s concept was simple enough; it was two straight-6s joined together, end-on-end, the same idea many had used to make things like V12s (2 x V6s) straight-8s (2 x straight-4s) H16s (two flat-8s, one atop another) and even V24s (2 x V12s) but the sheer length of a straight-12 in a car presented unique problems in packaging and the management of the torsional vibrations induced by the elongated crankshaft.  Straight-12s were built for use in aircraft (Bristol's Type 25 Braemar II in 1919 using four of them!) where the attraction was the aerodynamic advantage conferred by the small frontal area but as engine speeds increased in the 1920s, so did the extent of the problem of crankshaft flex and the concept was never revived.

1934 Voisin C15 Saloit Roadster (left) and the one-off Packard straight-12, scrapped when the decision was taken not to proceed to production (right).

The length of the straight-12 meant an extraordinary amount of the vehicle’s length had to be devoted to housing just the engine and that resulted in a high number for what designers call the dash-to-axle ratio.  That was one of the many reasons the straight-12 never came into vogue and indeed was one of the factors which doomed the straight-8, a configuration which at least had some redeeming features.  Voisin must however have liked the appearance of the long hood (bonnet) because the striking C15 Saloit Roadster (which could have accommodated a straight-12) was powered by a straight-4, a sleeve valve Knight of 2500 cm³ (153 cubic inch).  The performance doubtlessly didn’t live up to the looks but so sensuous were those looks that many would forgive the lethargy.  The concept of a short engine in a lengthy compartment was revived by Detroit in the 1960s & 1970s, many of the truly gargantuan full-sized sedans and coupes built with elongated front & rear structures.  At the back, the cavernous trunks (boots) often could swallow four sets of gold clubs which would have had some appeal to the target market but much of the space under the hood was unused.  While large enough to accommodate a V16, the US industry hadn't made those since the last of the Cadillac V16s left the line in 1940 after a ten-year run.  While one of the reasons the V8 had supplanted the straight-8 was its relatively compact length, that virtue wasn't needed by the late 1950s when, in all directions, the sheet-metal grew well beyond what was required by the mechanical components, the additional size just for visual impact to enhance the perception of prestige and luxury in an era when bigger was better.  Dramatic though the look could be (witness the 1969 Pontiac Grand Prix), the packaging efficiency was shockingly wasteful.

The Dart which never was

Using one of his signature outdoor settings, Norman Parkinson (1913-1990) photographed model Suzanne Kinnear (b 1935) adorning a Daimler SP250, wearing a Kashmoor coat and Otto Lucas beret with jewels by Cartier.

The image appeared on the cover (left) of Vogue's UK edition in November 1959, the original's (right) color being "enhanced" in the Vogue pre-production editing tradition (women thinner, cars shinier).  The "wide" whitewall tyres were a thing at the time, even on sports cars and were a popular option on US market Jaguar E-Types (there (unofficially) called XK-E or XKE) in the early 1960s.  The car on the Vogue cover was XHP 438, built on prototype chassis 100002 at Compton Verney in 1959; it's the oldest surviving SP250, the other two prototypes (chassis 100000 & 100001 from 1958) dismantled when testing was completed.  XHP 438 was the factory's press demonstrator and was used in road tests by Motor and Autocar magazines before being re-furbished (motoring journalists subjecting the press fleet to a brief but hard life) and sold.  Uniquely, when XPH 438 was first registered in England, it was as a "Daimler Dart".

More Issues Than Vogue sweatshirt from Impressions.

There was however an issue with the "Dart" name.  The SP250 was first shown to the public at the 1959 New York Motor Show and there the problems began.  Aware the little sports car was quite a departure from the luxurious but rather staid line-up Daimler had for years offered, the company had chosen the pleasingly alliterative “Dart” as its name, hoping it would convey the sense of something agile and fast.  Unfortunately, Chrysler’s lawyers were faster still, objecting that they had already registered Dart as the name for a full-sized Dodge so Daimler needed a new name and quickly; the big Dodge would never be confused with the little Daimler but the lawyers insisted.  Imagination apparently exhausted, Daimler’s management reverted to the engineering project name and thus the car became the SP250 which was innocuous enough even for Chrysler's attorneys and it could have been worse.  Dodge had submitted their Dart proposal to Chrysler for approval and while the car found favor, the name did not and the marketing department was told to conduct research and come up with something the public would like.  From this the marketing types gleaned that “Dodge Zipp” would be popular and to be fair, dart and zip(p) do imply much the same thing but ultimately the original was preferred and Darts remained in Dodge’s lineup until 1976, for most of that time one of the corporation's best-selling and most profitable lines.  Cynically, the name was between 2012-2016 revived for an unsuccessful and unlamented FWD (front-wheel-drive) compact sedan.

Assassin

Assassin (pronounced uh-sas-in)

(1) A murderer, especially one who kills a politically prominent person for reason of fanaticism or profit.

(2) One of an order of devout Muslims, active in Persia and Syria circa 1090-1272, the prime object of whom was to assassinate Christian Crusaders (should be used with initial capital).

1525–1535: An English borrowing via French and Italian, from the Medieval Latin assassīnus (assassinī in the plural), from the Arabic Hashshashin (ḥashshāshīn in the plural) (eaters of hashish), the Arabic being حشّاشين, (ħashshāshīyīn (also Hashishin or Hashashiyyin).  It shares its etymological roots with the Arabic hashish (from the Arabic: حشيش (ḥashīsh)) and in the region is most associated with a group of Nizari Shia Persians who worked against various Arab and Persian targets.  The Hashishiyyin were an Ismaili Muslim sect at the time of the Crusades, under leadership of to Hasan ibu-al-Sabbah (known as shaik-al-jibal or "Old Man of the Mountains") although the name was widely applied to a number of secret sects operating in Persia and Syria circa 1090-1272.  The word was known in Anglo-Latin from the mid-thirteenth century and variations in spelling not unusual although hashishiyy (hashishiyyin in the plural) appears to be the most frequently used.  The plural suffix “-in” was a mistake by Medieval translators who assumed it part of the Bedouin word.  Assassin, assassination, assassinator, assassinatress, assassinatrix, assassinism, autassassinophilia and assassinship are nouns, assassining & assassinating are verbs and assassinlike & assassinous are adjectives; the noun plural is assassins.  The number of derived forms seems untypically high and although some are listed various as obsolete or archaic, that they ever existed is an indication the “assassin” may have exerted a special fascination.  A female assassin (there have been a few) was an assassinatress or assassinatrix (assassinatrices the plural) and they inspired a special horror, presumably because, (1) being less often suspected of being a murderer they might strike when least expected and (2) man may have harboured the fear their method of dispatch might be especially gruesome.  Noted assassinatrices include the Biblical Judith whose decapitation of Holofernes has been depicted in some of Renaissance art's most confronting paintings and Valerie Solanas (1936-1988) who in 1968 shot pop-artist Andy Warhol (1928-1987).  Warhol didn't immediately die from his wounds but never did he fully recover and it's believed the would-be assassin hastened his death.

"Fear of" assassination is a condition different from being "turned on" by the fear of being assassinated.

A special use was autassassinophilia (in psychiatry, a paraphilia in which an individual is sexually aroused by the risk of being killed) and despite the name, the condition is not restricted to those imagining being assassinated, the paraphilia instead covering all those sexually by the risk of being killed.  It’s a fetish which can overlap with others involving specific ways of finding death (drowning, decapitation, dehydration etc) and does not of necessity require actual risk of death; merely imagining it can be sufficient.  The paraphilia could for example be as specific as being sexually aroused by the thought of being murdered by the Freemasons but that is distinct from a fear of being murdered by the Freemasons (an instance of foniasophobia (fear of being murdered)) which was a condition once suffered by Lindsay Lohan while being stalked by "a schizophrenic Freemason".  The condition was first described by John Money (1921–2006), a New Zealand-born professor of psychology at Johns Hopkins University who listed it as the “reciprocal condition” to erotophonophilia (in which one sexually is aroused by “stage-managing and carrying out the murder of an unsuspecting sexual partner”, both paraphilias under the rubric of the “sacrificial/expiatory type”.  Neither have ever been listed as a separate diagnosis in the American Psychiatric Association's (APA) Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM) but both, depending on the patient, could variously be “bolted into” the criteria for Sexual Masochism Disorder or Paraphilic Disorder.

Tree humor.

Whether in personal, political or family relations, assassination is one of the oldest and, done properly, one of the most effective tools known to man.  The earliest known use in English of the verb "to assassinate" in printed English was by Matthew Sutcliffe (circa 1548-1629) in A Briefe Replie to a Certaine Odious and Slanderous Libel, Lately Published by a Seditious Jesuite (1600), borrowed by William Shakespeare (circa 1564-1616) for Macbeth (1605).  Among the realists, it’s long been advocated, Sun Tzu in the still read The Art of War (circa 500 BC) arguing the utilitarian principle: that a single assassination could be both more effective and less destructive that other methods of dispute resolution, something with which Niccolò Machiavelli (1469–1527), in his political treatise Il Principe (The Prince, written circa 1513 & published 1532), concurred.  As a purely military matter, it’s long been understood that the well-targeted assassination of a single leader can be much more effective than a battlefield encounter whatever the extent of the victory; the “cut the head off the snake” principle.  Idiomatic uses include (1) “great assassin” which sarcastically was in September 1896 bestowed by William Ewart Gladstone (1809–1898; prime-minister 1868–1874, 1880–1885, Feb-July 1886 & 1892–1894) on the Ottoman Empire’s Sultan Abdul Hamid II (1842–1918; sultan of the Ottoman Empire 1876-1909) as a dark reference to the massacres of Ottoman Armenians, (2) “smiling assassin” (can be applied literally but is usually a figurative form meaning “one who maintains a friendly and pleasant visage but really is a back-stabber) and (3) “baby-faced assassin” (one whose youthful or innocent appearance belies their ruthless character).

Modern history

The assassination in July 2022 of Abe Shinzō san (安倍 晋三 (Shinzo Abe, 1954-2022, prime minister of Japan 2006-2007 & 2012-2020) came as a surprise because as a part of political conflict, assassination had all but vanished from Japan.  That’s not something which can be said of many countries in the modern era, the death toll in Asia, Africa, the Middle East and South & Central America long, the methods of dispatch sometimes gruesome.  Russia’s annals too are blood-soaked although it’s of note perhaps in that an extraordinary number of the killings were ordered by one head of Government.  The toll of US presidents is famous and also documented are some two-dozen planned attempted assassinations.  Even one (as far as is known) prime-minister of the UK has been assassinated, Spencer Perceval (1762–1812; Prime-Minister of the UK 1809-1912) shot dead (apparently by a deranged lone assassin) on 11 May 1812, his other claim to fame that uniquely among British premiers, he served at times also as solicitor-general and attorney-general.  Conspiracy theorists note also the death of Pope John-Paul I (1912–1978; pope Aug-Sep 1978).

Death by katana.

Samuri Ultranationalist activist Otoya Yamaguchi (1943-1960), about to stab Socialist Party leader Inejiro Asanuma san (1898-1960) with his yoroi-dōshi ("armor piercer" or "mail piercer"), a short sword, fashioned with particularly thick metal and suitable for piercing armor and using in close combat; it was carried by the samurai class in feudal Japan.), Hibiya Public Hall, Tokyo, 12 October 1960.  The assassin committed suicide while in custody.

Historically however, political assassinations in Japan were not unknown, documented since the fifth century, the toll including two emperors.  In the centuries which unfolded until the modern era, by European standards, assassinations were not common but the traditions of the Samurai, a military caste which underpinned a feudal society organized as a succession of shogunates (a hereditary military dictatorship (1192–1867)), meant that violence was seen sometimes as the only honorable solution when many political disputes were had their origin in inter and intra-family conflict.  Tellingly, even after firearms came into use, most assassinations continued to be committed with swords or other bladed-weapons, a tradition carried on when the politician Asanuma Inejirō san was killed on live television in 1960.

Most remembered however is the cluster of deaths which political figures in Japan suffered during the dark decade of the 1930s.  It was a troubled time and although Hara Takashi san (1856-1921; Prime Minister of Japan 1918-1921) had in 1921 been murdered by a right-wing malcontent (who received a sentence of only three years), it had seemed at the time an aberration and few expected the next decade to assume the direction it followed.  However in an era in which the most fundamental aspects of the nation came to be contested by the politicians, the imperial courtiers, the navy and the army (two institutions with different priorities and intentions), all claiming to be acting in the name of the emperor, conflict was inevitable, the only thing uncertain was how things would be resolved.

Hamaguchi Osachi san (1870–1931; Prime Minister of Japan 1929-1931) was so devoted to the nation that when appointed head of the government’s Tobacco Monopoly Bureau, he took up smoking despite his doctors warnings it would harm his fragile health.  His devotion was praised but he was overtaken by events, the Depression crushing the economy and his advocacy of peace and adherence to the naval treaty which limited Japan’s ability to project power made him a target for the resurgent nationalists.  In November 1930 he was shot while in Tokyo Railway station, surviving a few months before succumbing an act which inspired others.  In 1932 the nation learned of the Ketsumeidan Jiken (the "League of Blood" or "Blood-Pledge Corps Incident"), a nationalist conspiracy to assassinate liberal politicians and the wealthy donors who supported them.  A list on twenty-two intended victims was later discovered but the group succeeded only in killing one former politician and one businessman.

The death of Inukai Tsuyoshi san (1855–1932; Prime Minister of Japan 1931-1932) was an indication of what was to follow.  A skilled politician and something of a technocrat, he’d stabilized the economy but he abhorred war as a ghastly business and opposed army’s ideas of adventures in China, something increasingly out of step with those gathering around his government.  In May 1932, after visiting the Yasukuni Shrine to pay homage to the Meiji’s first minister of war (assassinated in 1869), nine navy officers went to the prime-minister’s office and shot him dead.  Deed done, the nine handed themselves to the police.  At their trial, there was much sympathy and they received only light sentences (later commuted) although some fellow officers feared they may be harshly treated and sent to the government a package containing their nine amputated fingers with offers to take the place of the accused were they sentenced to death.  In the way the Japanese remember such things, it came to be known as “the May 15 incident”.

Nor was the military spared.  Yoshinori Shirakawa san (1869–1932) and Tetsuzan Nagata san (1884–1935), both generals in the Imperial Japanese Army were assassinated, the latter one of better known victims of the Aizawa Incident of August 1935, a messy business in which two of the three army factions then existing resolved their dispute with murder.  Such was the scandal that the minister of army was also a victim but he got of lightly; being ordered to resign “until the fuss dies down” and returning briefly to serve as prime-minister in 1937 before dying of natural cause some four years later.

Lindsay Lohan as assassin nun in Machete (2010).  The revolver is a Smith & Wesson .50 Magnum with 8.38" barrel (S&W500: SKU 163501).

All of the pressures which had been building to create the political hothouse that was mid-1930s Japan were realized in Ni Ni-Roku Jiken (the February 26 incident), an attempted military coup d'état in which fanatical young officers attempted to purge the government and military high command of factional rivals and ideological opponents (along with, as is inevitable in these things, settling a few personal scores).  Two victims were Viscount Takahashi Korekiyo san (1854–1936; Prime Minister 1921-1922) and Viscount Saitō Makoto san (1858–1936; admiral in the Imperial Japanese Navy & prime-minister 1932-1934 (and the last former Japanese Prime Minister to be assassinated until Shinzo Abe san in 2022)).  As a coup, it was a well-drilled operation, separate squads sent out at 2am to execute their designated victims although, in Japanese tradition, they tried not to offend, one assassin recorded as apologizing to terrified household staff for “the annoyance I have caused”.  Of the seven targets the rebels identified, only three were killed but the coup failed not because not enough blood was spilled but because the conspirators made the same mistake as the Valkyrie plotters (who sought in 1944 to overthrow Germany’s Nazi regime (1933-1945)); they didn’t secure control of the institutions which were the vital organs of state and notably, did not seize the Imperial Palace and thus place between themselves between the Emperor and his troops, something they could have learned from Hernán Cortés (1485–1547) who made clear to his Spanish Conquistadors that the capture of Moctezuma (Montezuma, circa 1466-1520; Emperor of the Aztec Empire circa 1502-1520) was their object.  As it was, the commander in chief ordered the army to suppress the rebellion and within hours it was over.

However, the coup had profound consequences.  If Japan’s path to war had not been guaranteed before the insurrection, after it the impetus assumed its own inertia and the dynamic shifted from one of militarists against pacifists to agonizing appraisals of whether the first thrust of any attack would be to the south, against the USSR or into the Pacific.  The emperor had displayed a decisiveness he’d not re-discover until two atomic bombs had been dropped on his country but, seemingly convinced there was no guarantee the army would put down a second coup, his policy became one of conciliating the military which was anyway the great beneficiary of the February 26 incident; unified after the rebels were purged, it quickly asserted control over the government, weakened by the death of its prominent liberals and the reluctance of others to challenge the army, assassination a salutatory lesson.

Assassins both:  David Low’s (1891-1963) Rendezvous, Evening Standard, 20 September 1939. 

The Molotov–Ribbentrop Pact (usually styled as the Nazi-Soviet Pact), was a treaty of non-aggression between the USSR and Nazi Germany and signed in Moscow on 23 August 1939.  A political sensation when it was announced, it wouldn't be until the first Nuremberg Trial (1945-1946) that the Western powers became aware of the details of the suspected secret protocol under which the signatories partitioned Poland between them.   Low's cartoon was published shortly after the Soviets (on 17 September) invaded from the east, having delayed military action until convinced German success was assured.

Low's work satirizes the cynicism of the Molotov-Ribbentrop Pact, Adolf Hitler (1889-1945; Führer (leader) and German head of government 1933-1945 & head of state 1934-1945) and comrade Stalin (1878-1953; Soviet leader 1924-1953) bowing politely, words revealing their true feelings.  After returning to Berlin from the signing ceremony, Joachim von Ribbentrop (1893–1946; Nazi foreign minister 1938-1945) reported the happy atmosphere to Hitler as "…like being among comrades" but if he was fooled, comrade Stalin remained the realist.  When Ribbentrop proposed a rather effusive communiqué of friendship and a 25 year pact, the Soviet leader suggested that after so many years of "...us tipping buckets of shit over each-other", a ten year agreement announced in more business-like terms might seem to the peoples of both nations, rather more plausible.  It was one of a few occasions on which comrade Stalin implicitly admitted even a dictator needs to take note of public opinion.  His realism served him less well when he assumed no rational man fighting a war against a formidable enemy would by choice open another front of 3000-odd kilometres (1850 miles) against an army which could raise 500 divisions.  Other realists would later apply their own calculations and conclude that however loud the clatter of sabre rattling, Mr Putin (Vladimir Vladimirovich Putin; b 1952; president or prime minister of Russia since 1999) would never invade Ukraine.

Cloak and axe of Giovanni Battista Bugatti (1779–1869), official executioner for the Papal States 1796-1864, Criminology Museum of Rome.

Woodcuts and other depictions from the era suggest the blood-red cloak wasn't always worn during executions.  At various points popes have hired assassins to do the Lord’s work (and many more have been contracted “on behalf of His Holiness (both with and without his knowledge) but (as far as is known), none have been on the payroll for at least two centuries.  The last executioner employed was Giovanni Battista Bugatti began his career at a youthful 17 under Pius VI (1717–1799; pope 1775-1799) and diligently he served six pontiffs before being pensioned off by Pius IX (1792–1878; pope 1846-1878).  His retirement induced not by the Holy See losing enthusiasm for the death penalty because one Antonio Balducci succeeded him in the office which fell into disuse only with the loss of the Papal States (756-1870; a conglomeration of territories in the central & northern Italian peninsula under the personal sovereignty of the pope), after the unification of Italy.  Unlike his illustrious predecessor, history has recorded little about Signor Balducci although it’s known he performed his final execution in 1870.  Signor Bugatti was by far the longest-serving of the Papal States’ many executioners and locals dubbed him Mastro Titta, a titular corruption of maestro di giustizia (master of justice) and his 69 year tenure in his unusual role can be accounted for only by either (1) he felt dispatching the condemned a calling or (2) he really enjoyed his work, because his employers were most parsimonious: he received no retainer and only a small fee per commission (although he was granted a small, official residence).  His tenure was long and included 516 victims (he preferred to call them pazienti (patients), the term adopted also by Romans who enjoyed the darkly humorous) but was only ever a part-time gig; most of his income came from his work as an umbrella painter (a part of the labour market which still exists in an artisan niche).  Depending on this and that, his devices included the axe, guillotine, noose and mallet(!) while the offences punished ranged from the serious (murder, conspiracy, sedition etc) to the petty (habitual thieves and trouble-makers).

Cardinal Pietro Gasparri (1852–1934; Cardinal Secretary of State 1914-1930, left) and Benito Mussolini (1883-1945; Duce (leader) & prime-minister of Italy 1922-1943, right), signing the Lateran Treaty, Lateran Palace, Rome, 11 February 1929.

Although as early as 1786 the Grand Duchy of Tuscany became the first Italian state to abolish the death penalty (torture also banned), the sentence remained on the books in the Papal States; then as now, the poor disproportionately were victims of the sanction, similar (or worse) crimes by the bourgeoisie or nobility usually handled with less severity, “hushed-up” or just ignored.  With the loss of the Papal States, the pope’s temporal domain shrunk to little more than what lay around St Peter’s Square; indeed between 1870 and the signing of Lateran Treaty (1929) after which the Italian state recognized Vatican City as a sovereign state, no pope left the Vatican, their status as self-imposed prisoners a political gesture.  The Lateran treaty acknowledged the validity of the sentence (Article 8 of the 1929 Vatican City Penal Code stating anyone who attempted to assassinate the pope would be subject to the death penalty) although this provision was never used, tempted though some popes must have been.  Paul VI (1897-1978; pope 1963-1978) in 1969 struck capital punishment from the Vatican's legal code and the last reference to the sanction vanished in 2001 under Saint John Paul II (1920–2005; pope 1978-2005).

In contemporary Russia, such is the volume of deceased prominent citizens with a cause of death reported as: “Falling from window of high building” the mode of death is known on the streets as the “oligarch elevator”; predating even the Tsarist state, grim humor has a long tradition in Russia.  It may thus be assumed the Kremlin has on the books at least one “state assassin” but there may be more because there’s only so much one assassin or assassinatrix can do and the workload clearly is heavy.  Of other nations, there are the “usual suspects” assumed also to have such a contractor (although the DPRK (Democratic Republic of Korea (North Korea)) seems also on occasion to outsource “jobs” in a most imaginative way) and these positions are not advertised, appointees doubtlessly selected for their demonstrated skills.  Whether in the West there are still many state assassins isn’t known although in the not too distant past the activities of some have been documented.

Fidel Castro enjoying a fine Havana cigar.  At 90, he died in his bed.

The most interesting example is the US but the answer to the question of whether Washington DC still “does assassinations” ultimately is: “Well, it depends how one defines ‘assassination’”.  Unambiguously, US administrations certainly did assassinate tiresome people and documents relating to some of the plots made good reading, especially the “exploding cigars” with which the CIA (Central Intelligence Agency) planned to kill Fidel Castro (1926–2016; prime-minister or president of Cuba 1959-2008).  The conduct of Richard Nixon’s (1913-1994; US president 1969-1974) administration weakened the authority of the executive and US Congress in the mid-1970s took steps to prohibit unlawful assassinations by government agencies, this prompted by revelations about the CIA’s involvement in plots to assassinate foreign leaders.  In response to the congressional nudge, Gerald Ford (1913–2006; US president 1974-1977) in 1976 issued Executive Order (EO) 11905, explicitly prohibiting political assassinations by US government personnel: “No employee of the United States Government shall engage in, or conspire to engage in, political assassination.”  This was later reaffirmed and expanded by Jimmy Carter’s (b 1924; US President 1977-1981) EO 12036 (1978) and Ronald Reagan’s (1911-2004; US president 1981-1989) EO 12333 which in 1981 sought to close the “outsourcing” loophole with the words: “No person employed by or acting on behalf of the United States Government shall engage in, or conspire to engage in, assassination.”  Despite the impression which seems afoot, Congress never passed a law banning assassinations and while EO 12333 remains active and binding on the executive branch it can, at the stroke of a pen, be amended or revoked by any POTUS (President of the United States).

So scope exists for an imaginative POTUS to act and the obvious device is a new EO.  While most EOs are published (gazetted) in the Federal Register and are thus publicly available, if a POTUS issues a certificate classifying an EO as being related to national security, they can be unpublished and their existence not even disclosed, meaning any change in an administration’s interpretation of the restriction (or even the word “assassination”) can remain unknown outside a small circle.  As the words are presumed still to be operative include: “No person employed by or acting on behalf of the US Government...” that would include the military, CIA personnel and many others but there are certain legal and operational ambiguities including:

(1) The targeted killing of enemy combatants during armed conflict: The phrase “armed conflict” is significant because the US last declared war on another country in 1942, despite which, they’ve hardly been militarily inactive since.  What is means is that “armed conflict” has proved pleasingly flexible and of great utility in the age of drone strikes which has allowed the US precisely to target individuals, something justified subsequently as “self-defense”.

(2) Authorization for Use of Military Force (AUMFs): In the wake of the 9/11 terrorist attacks, the AUMF (2001) gives administrations broad powers to target individuals linked to 9/11 (or “associated groups”) and much use of the term “associated groups” has since been made as a legal justification for drone strikes in a number of countries.

(3) Covert Activities vs Military Operations: Covert operations by the CIA (or any other organ) require a “Presidential Finding” and a formal notification to the congressional intelligence committees (a legacy of the restrictions imposed during the 1970s) while the military are not subject to the same degree of oversight though are covered by the rules of war (the Geneva Conventions, the implications of the finding of the Nuremberg tribunals etc).

(4) The psychological effect of the UAV (Unmanned Aerial Vehicle, commonly called "drone"): From a legal standpoint, the use of drones to kill people really added no new factors but in the political and public mind they seemed a “game changer” and with each high-profile “hit” there’s usually an intense (if brief) debate, an example of which followed the 2020 killing of Lieutenant General Qasem Soleimani (1957-2020) of Iran's Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps (IRGC).  As was usually the case, the “debate” was formulaic, the administration claiming a military act of self-defense while critics labeled it a political assassination.  After both sides let off some steam, life returned to business as usual.

While not something often discussed by the administration, the DoD (Department of Defense) does have a (sort of) codified doctrine in their War Manual (last updated in 2015 with the title retained despite no declarations of war since 1942 and there having been no secretary of defense in cabinet since 1947).  While DoD avoids reducing things to a single definition, it does distinguish between “assassination” and “lawful targeting”: “The term assassination has been interpreted to mean an unlawful killing of a specific individual for political or ideological reasons”, to which is added: “The lawful targeting of an enemy combatant is not assassination.”  What that would appear to imply is (1) killing enemy combatants or terrorist leaders during an armed conflict or in self-defense is not considered assassination and (2) killing a civilian political leader, or someone not engaged in hostilities, especially outside armed conflict may constitute an assassination.  Presumably, being an army officer (albeit not one on a battlefield (in the conventional sense of the word)) General Soleimani would be defined “an enemy combatant”.  Some deaths since have been rather more in the realm of a “gray area” but the strikes continue.

Mike Pompeo before & after.

Mr Pompeo told interviewers he had in six months achieved a 90 lb (41 kg) weight loss through rigorous adherence to a D&E (diet & exercise) schedule.  It was an impressive outcome but in the Ozempic age, some were sceptical, suspecting there may have been surgical or chemical assistance.  Being a politician does have the general effect of generating an air of doubt about their assertions and those accessing the likelihood of truthfulness have to weigh up variables like "possible", "plausible" and "unbelievable".  Generously, what Mr Pompeo claimed was "plausible" and a 90 lb shred, however done, a reasonable achievement.

One who seemed anxious to explore gray areas was Mike Pompeo (b 1963; director of the CIA 2017-2018 and US secretary of state 2018-2021).  Although an evangelical Christian, one-time church deacon and Sunday school teacher on the record as saying “…politics is a never-ending struggle... until the Rapture.”, Mr Pompeo seems to believe the sixth commandment is open to interpretation.  While General Soleimani was a military figure, WikiLeaks founder Julian Assange (b 1971) unambiguously was a civilian and one with no position in any government or Quango.  Despite that, Mr Pompeo was reported as have requested “options” which would provide a legal justification for killing Assange, his interest prompted by WikiLeaks’ publication of details of the CIA’s “Vault 7” hacking tools, said by the agency to be its worst ever data loss.  The possibilities Mr Pompeo could have been offered apparently included both abduction and assassination and Mr Pompeo, a trained lawyer, had in 2017 laid the groundwork for a bit of escalation, describing WikiLeaks as a “non-state hostile intelligence service”, a term thought to be a declaration of his intent rather than a formal step up a rung on the ladder of legal possibility.  As things turned out, politics triumphed and a deal was done whereby Mr Assange pleaded guilty to something and was set free.