Malevolent, malicious & malignant

Malevolent (pronounced muh-lev-uh-luhnt)

(1) Wishing evil or harm to another or others; showing ill will; ill-disposed; malicious.

(2) Evil; harmful; injurious.

(3) In astrology, a force evil or malign in influence.

1500–1510:  From the Middle English malevolent (suggested by Middle English malevolence (analyzed of late as “male violence”)), from the Old French malivolent and the Latin malevolentem, the construct being male (badly, ill, wrongly) + volens (wanting, willing, wishing”), the present participle of velle (to want, wish for, desire).  The most commonly used form in Latin appears to have been malevolēns (ill-disposed, spiteful).  Upon entering English in the sixteenth century, the word retained this sense of ill will or harmful intent.  The adjective malevolent (having an evil disposition toward another or others, wishing evil to others) dates from the early sixteenth century while the noun malevolence (the character of being ill-disposed toward another or others; ill-will, malice, personal hatred) was in use by the mid-fifteenth, from the Old French malevolence and directly from Latin malevolentia (ill-will, dislike, hatred), from malevolentem (nominative malevolens) (ill-disposed, wishing ill, spiteful, envious).  The antonym is benevolent and the usual negative forms are unmalevolent & non-malevolent.  Malevolent is an adjective, malevolence is a noun and malevolently is an adverb; the noun plural malevolences.

The writings of Russian-American author & mystic Helena Petrovna Blavatsky (often styled Madame Blavatsky (1831-1891; co-founder of the Theosophical Society (1875)) were in the nineteenth century influential in non-mainstream theology and philosophy circles.  Her work included exploring "…the horrifying principles and malignant influence of the Society of Jesus [the Jesuit Order, a Roman Catholic cult] are brought out in the open for all to see, hitherto secret ciphers of the so-called higher Masonic degrees revealed, examples of Jesuit cryptography exposed, and a High Mason’s critical strictures upon Masonry itself articulated.”   In July 1773, Clement XIV (1705–1774; pope 1769-1774), acting on a request from many governments disturbed by the Jesuits’ plotting and scheming, issued the brief Dominus ac Redemptor (Lord and Redeemer) which dissolved the cult.  However, the Jesuits went underground and conducted a masonic-like infiltration of the Church which culminated in the pressure exerted on Pius VII (1742–1823; pope 1800-1823) who in 1814 issued the papal bull Sollicitudo omnium ecclesiarum (The care of all Churches) allowing the order to be re-established and resume its Masonic ways.

Malicious (pronounced muh-lish-uhs)

(1) Full of, characterized by, or showing malice; intentionally harmful; spiteful.

(2) In common law jurisdictions, vicious, wanton, or mischievous in motivation or purpose (often in statute as an “aggravating circumstance”).

(3) In common law jurisdictions as malicious prosecution, an intentional tort which arises from a party (1) intentionally and maliciously instituting or pursuing (or causing to be instituted or pursued) a legal action (civil or criminal) that is (2) brought without probable cause and (3) dismissed in favor of the other party.  It belongs sometimes to the class of actions called “abuse of process”.

(4) In common law jurisdictions as “malicious prosecution”, a common law intentional tort which arises from a party (1) intentionally and maliciously instituting or pursuing (or causing to be instituted or pursued) a legal action (civil or criminal) that is (2) brought without probable cause and (3) dismissed in favor of the other party.

(5) In common law jurisdictions as “malicious mischief”, the willful, wanton, or reckless destruction of the personal property of another occasioned by actual ill will or resentment toward the owner or possessor of such property.

1175–1225: From the Middle English malicious (which may have existed in the Old English as malicius but this is contested), from the Old French malicios (showing ill will, spiteful, wicked (which persists in Modern French as malicieux)) from the Latin malitiōsus (wicked, malicious), the construct being maliti(a) (badness; ill will; spite), from malus (bad; evil) + -osus.  In Latin, the -ōsus suffix was added to a noun to form an adjective indicating an abundance of that noun.  The Middle English form displaced the earlier native Middle English ivelwilled & ivelwilly (malicious), both related to the Old English yfelwillende (literally “evil-willing”).  In early fourteenth century Anglo-French legal language, it meant “characterized by malice prepense”, essentially little different from the sense “malicious” today enjoys in statute in common law jurisdictions.  The adverb maliciously (in a spiteful manner, with enmity or ill-will) emerged in the late fourteenth century while the noun maliciousness (extreme enmity or disposition to injure; actions prompted by hatred) was in use a few decades later.  The spelling malitious is obsolete.  The usual negative forms are non-malicious & unmalicious but lexicographers note also the use of semi-malicious & quasi-malicious, forms adopted presumably when some nuance of the evil done seems helpful.  At the other end of the scale of maliciousness, the comparative is more malicious and the superlative most malicious.  Malicious is an adjective, maliciousness is a noun and maliciously is an adverb.

Malignant (pronounced muh-lig-nuhnt)

(1) Disposed to cause harm, suffering, or distress deliberately; feeling or showing ill will or hatred.

(2) Very dangerous or harmful in influence or effect.

(3) In pathology, tending to produce death.

(4) In medicine (usually of cells or a tumor), characterized by uncontrolled growth; cancerous, invasive, or metastatic.

1540s: From the Middle French malignant, from the Late Latin malignantem (nominative malignans) (acting from malice), stem of malignāns, present participle of malignāre (to act maliciously; to behave with malign intent) and malignō (to malign, viciously to act).  The English malign (evil or malignant in disposition, nature, intent or influence) was from the Middle English maligne, from the Old French maligne, from the Latin malignus, the construct being malus (bad) + -gnus (born), from gignere (to bear, beget) from the primitive Indo-European root gene- (give birth, beget).  In medicine (of tumors and such), the antonym is “benign” but non-malignant & unmalignant both exist as does semi-malignant which sounds strange to non-clinical ears but which is used apparently with the sense of “not very malignant”, presumably something of a comfort to a patient.  The most commonly distinction in medicine seems to be between “malignant” and “benign” and this provide the author Evelyn Waugh (1903-1966) with one of his better jabs.  Learning that the notoriously obnoxious Randolph Churchill (1911-1968) had been operated on after a tumor was found, when told it had been removed and sent for an analysis which proved it “benign”, he observed: “What a miracle that modern medicine could find the only part of Randolph that is not malignant and then remove it.”  Malignant is an adjective, malignancy & malignance are nouns, malignantly is an adverb; the noun plural is malignancies.

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

The word entered the medical jargon in the 1560s but the earlier use was as a theological slur, the Church describing as malignant “those damnable followers of the antichrist” in the ecclesiam malignantum (best translated as “Church of the Wicked”), a concept found in many writings in early Christian thought, particularly among certain groups that emphasized the contrast between the true, faithful Church and those who they believed were corrupt or evil within the broader Christian community.  The theme continues to this day and can be identified as the source of many schisms and internecine conflicts within and between many religions.  The term existed in a number of Latin Christian writings, often linked to Augustinian theology.  Saint Augustine of Hippo (354–430), in his work attacking the Donatists (a Christian sect which in the fourth century forced a schism in the Church of Carthage) referenced the ecclesia malignantium to describe those within the Church who were corrupt or sinful, in contrast to the ecclesia sancta (the holy Church).  It was Augustine who constructed the influential doctrine that while within the Church, there could be both saints and sinners, ultimately the Church itself remained holy, an interesting proto-structralism upon which churches of many denominations to this day fall back upon in their handling of clerical scandals.

The ecclesia malignantium were used metaphorically to contrast the “true” Church (those who genuinely followed Christ) with those who may have been Christian in name but acted in ways that were contrary to Christian teachings, thus aligning themselves with evil or wickedness.  In the secular world, the model is not unfamiliar, a modern example being those in the US Republican Party not judged sufficiently “pure” by the right-wing fanatics being labeled “RINOs” (Republicans in Name Only), an idea Saint Augustine would have recognized.  So, faith and politics can both be binary exercises, those judged heretical, schismatic, or in some way morally corrupt being a malignant presence in the community and needing to be excised as swiftly as the surgeon’s scalpel slices out a malignant tumor.  During the sixteenth century Protestant Reformation in Europe, the language was re-purposed, by the 1540s used by protestant theologians and activists to condemn as heretics the pope and the Church in Rome.  By the 1590s, malignant was in use to mean (of persons) “disposed to inflict suffering or cause distress” whereas in the early fourteenth century “malign” was used as an adjective and the now extinct malignous meant “poisonous, noxious”.  The noun malignancy dates from circa 1600 and by mid century had come to mean “state of extreme malevolence, bitter enmity”, the particular use in medicine (of diseases, growths, tumors etc with a virulence and tendency to get worse) appears in the medical literature from the 1680s.  In English history, borrowing from the turbulent priests, both the followers of Oliver Cromwell (1599–1658; Lord Protector of the Commonwealth 1653-1658) and the royalist forces would label each other “malignants”.

In English, “mal-” words are familiar.  The mal- prefix was from the Old French mal- (bad; badly) from the Latin adverb male, from malus (bad, wicked).  In English the prefix was applied to create words variously with some denotation of the negative including (1) bad, badly (malinfluence), (1) unhealthy; harmful (malware), (3) unpleasant (malodorous) (4) incorrect (malformed), (5) incomplete (maldescent) & (6) deficiently (malnourished).  Malevolent, malicious & malignant are from a different linage but all are in some way negative on nature but there are differences between them:  Malevolent means “having or showing a desire to cause harm to others and carries the connotation of “a deep-rooted ill will or hatred”.  Malicious means “intending to do harm, typically without justification” and connotes something of an emphasis on a “spiteful or cruel intent”.  Malignant means “harmful, dangerous, or likely to cause death and while historically it was used to refer to “extreme malevolence”, the use in medicine has in the modern age tended to make that use almost exclusive although it can still be used of anything (or anyone) actively harmful or evil.  So in use, the modern tendency is for malevolent to be used of “ill will or hatred”, malicious “an intent to cause harm” and malignant “something that is dangerously harmful, often in a physical or medical context”.  The related "malign" seems most be used of intent and harmful speech.  Which to use hangs also on intent; if someone is murdered by the Freemasons, it’s not unreasonable to suppose the intent was malicious and the act malevolent but had they been eaten by a shark while swimming, neither word should be invoked because that’s just a thing sharks do.

Holy

Holy (pronounced hoh-lee)

(1) Specially recognized as or declared sacred by religious use or authority; consecrated.

(2) Dedicated or devoted to the service of God, the church, or religion; godly, or virtuous; of, relating to, or associated with God or a deity; sacred.

(3) Saintly; godly; pious; devout; having a spiritually pure quality; endowed or invested with extreme purity or sublimity.

(4) Entitled to worship or veneration as or as if sacred.

(5) A place of worship; sacred place; sanctuary.

(6) Inspiring fear, awe, or grave distress (archaic).

Pre 900: From the Middle English holi & hali, from the Old English hālig, hāleġ & hǣlig, (holy, consecrated, sacred, venerated, godly, saintly, ecclesiastical, pacific, tame), a variant of the Old English hālig, hǣlig & hāleg, the construct being hāl (whole) + -eg (-y), from the Proto-West Germanic hailag, from Proto-Germanic hailaga & hailagaz (holy, bringing health).  It was cognate with the Old Saxon hēlag, the Gothic hailags the Dutch & German heilig, the Old Frisian helich and the Old Norse heilagr.  Ultimate root was the primitive Indo-European kóhzilus (healthy, whole).  It was adopted at conversion for the Latin sanctus although the Middle English form emerged as holi which remained a common spelling until the sixteenth century.  Holy is a nown & adjective. holiness (the spellings holinesse, holyness & holynesse all obsolete) is a noun and holier & holiest are adjectives; the noun plural is holies.  The noun holiosity is non-standard and is used in humor when referring to those for who religion has become an obsession and often one they think should be imposed on others.

Lindsay Lohan bringing holiness, Machete (2010).  The weapon is a Smith & Wesson .50 Magnum revolver with 8" barrel (S&W500: SKU 163501).

The primary (pre-Christian) meaning is not possible to determine; documentary evidence simply doesn’t exist but most think it probably meant something like “that must be preserved whole or intact, that cannot be transgressed or violated” and was connected with the Old English hal (health) and the Old High German heil (health, happiness, good luck (source of the German salutation Heil which became so well-known in the 1930s)).  Holy water was in Old English and holy has been used as an intensifying word from 1837 and used in expletives since the 1880s; a “holy terror” generally meaning “a difficult or frightening person” but which in Irish informal use means a man thought a habitual gambler, womanizer etc.  The adjectival forms are holier (comparative) & holiest (superlative) while the noun plural is holies but “the holy” functions as a plural when referring to persons or things (eh holy relics) invested with holiness.  When used in a religious context, it’s common to use an initial capital and probably obligatory when referencing the Christian God, or Christ.  The old alternative spellings holi, hali, holie & hooly are all obsolete.  Words that depending on context may be synonymous or merely related include divine, hallowed, humble, pure, revered, righteous, spiritual, sublime, believing, clean, devotional, faithful, good, innocent, moral, perfect, upright, angelic, blessed & chaste.

The Old Testament's Book of Leviticus is regarded by many as a long list of proscriptions, noted especially for the things declared an abomination to the Lord and within the text (Leviticus 17-26) that surprisingly succinct list is known as the “Holiness code” (often referred to in biblical scholarship as the “H texts”), "Holy" in this context understood as “set apart”.  The Holiness code exists explicitly as the set of fundamental rules which the ancient Israelites were required to follow believed they had to follow in order to be close to God and in that sense are the foundational basis for all the moral imperatives in scripture.  What makes them especially interesting historically is the suggestion by a number of scholars that additional laws, written in a style discordant with the rest of the Holiness Code yet in accord with the remainder of Leviticus, were interpolated into the code by a later priest or priests, notably some concerning matters of ritual and procedure hardly in keeping with high moral tone of the apparently original entries.  The contested passages include:

The prohibition against an anointed high priest uncovering his head or rending his clothes (21:10).

The prohibition against offerings by Aaronic priests who are blemished (21:21–22).

The order to keep the sabbath, passover, and feast of unleavened bread (23:1–10a).

The order to keep Yom Kippur, and Sukkot (23:23–44).

The order for continual bread and oil (24:1–9).

Case law concerning a blasphemer (24:10–15a and 24:23).

The order for a trumpet sounding on Yom Kippur (25:9b).

Rules concerning redeeming property (25:23 and 25:26–34).

Order to release Israelite slaves at the year of jubilee (25:40, 25:42, 25:44–46).

Rules concerning redeeming people (25:48–52, and 25:54).

The Holy Alliance

The Holy Alliance (styled in some contemporary documents as “The Grand Alliance”) was something not quite a treaty yet more than a modus vivendi (memorandum of agreement).  Executed soon after the conclusion of the Congress of Vienna (1814-1815), it linked three of the monarchist great states of Europe (Austria, Prussia, and Russia) and existed very much at the behest of Tsar Alexander I (1777–1825; Emperor of Russia from 1801-1825) who had observed the French Revolution (1789) and the convulsions which spread across the continent in its wake and, having little taste for the idea of the mob leading kings to their execution by the guillotine, sought an alliance which would hold in check the forces of secular liberalism.  It was a moment something like that noted by George VI (1895–1952; King of the United Kingdom 1936-1952) who, traveling through the Surrey countryside, pointed at Runnymede (where in 1215 the Magna Carta was forced on a reluctant King John (1166–1216; King of England 1199-1216), saying to his companion: "That's where the trouble started."  

The origin of the Holy Alliance, 1815.

The Tsar envisaged the UK being part of the Holy Alliance but Lord Castlereagh (1769–1822; UK foreign secretary 1812-1822) belonged to the long tradition of trying not become involved in European affairs unless necessary and called it “sublime mysticism and nonsense.”  The troubled Castlereagh committed suicide and in his papers there's no indication of the sense in which he used the word "sublime" but in late fourteenth century it was used as a verb meaning "alchemy".

So inconsequential did Castle think the treaty that he anyway recommended it be joined by the UK, a course of action the Cabinet declined to pursue and the supportive gesture of George IV (1762–1830; prince regent of the UK 1911-1820, king 1820-1830) adding his signature as King of Hanover had the most negligible political or military significance.  Despite London’s reserve, Austria, Prussia, Russia, & the UK did later in 1815 formalize the Quadruple Alliance which had for some time existed in effect to counter the military and revolutionary threat presented by the expansion of the First French Empire under Napoleon I (Napoleon Bonaparte, 1769–1821; First Consul of the French Republic 1799-1804 & Emperor of the French from 1804-1814 & 1815).  Although Napoleon’s defeat at Waterloo wrote finis to that venture, the four powers thought the Quadruple Alliance a means by which the framework created by the Congress of Vienna might best be maintained as a stabilizing device so the state of European affairs might indefinitely be maintained, it’s last resort being the military apparatus which could be deployed to ensure something like the French Revolution couldn’t again happen.  Events seemed to move in the direction of the Holy Alliance when, in 1818, the Bourbon monarchy was restored to France under Louis XVIII (1755–1824; king of France 1814-1824 (but for the unfortunate hundred days in 1815 when he fled the advance of Napoleon)) and the Quadruple Alliance became the Quintuple.  However, the British, even then among the most constitutional of monarchies, never had much enthusiasm for the alliance's more illiberal actions but the four continental powers did impose their will, the Austrians in Italy in 1821 and the French two years later in Spain.  Despite those encouraging successes however, although not fully appreciated at the time, both the arrangement and the Holy Alliance became effectively defunct with the death of Alexander in 1825, the events in France in 1830 the final nail in the coffin.

Nevertheless, the Holy Alliance remains an interesting cul-de-sac in European history and one noted for (by diplomatic standards) the brevity of its three articles: (1) That all members are brethren, beholden when necessary to assist one another to protect religion, peace, and justice, (2) That the members are Christian nations who owe the treasure of their existence to God, and recommend to their subjects to enjoy God’s gifts, and exercise his principles and (3) That members agree this alliance shall utilize the principles of God and Christianity to shape the destinies of mankind over which they have influence.  One suspects Metternich (Prince Klemens von Metternich, 1773–1859, Austrian foreign minister 1809-1848, chancellor 1821-1848) and others might have shared Castlereagh’s opinion of the spiritual flavor of the Tsar’s wording but it was recognized by even the most cynical of pragmatists as at least potentially useful and was eventually signed by all European rulers except (1) the Prince Regent of the UK because of the cabinet’s opposition, (2) the Ottoman sultan who could hardly countenance such a Christian document and (3), the Pope in Rome, the papal councilors and bishops approving not at all of something which, for the sake of unanimity, embraced schism, heresy, and orthodoxy alike.  To the Holy See, these were the papers of politicians and thus the work of the Devil.

Whatever it wasn’t, the Holy Alliance was a symbol of the old social order and liberals viewed it with disdain, revolutionaries with hatred.  Although effectively it was in 1825 buried in the tomb of the dead Tsar, its spirit endured until the revolutions of 1848 and in a sense it continued to influence the actions of statesmen until the Crimean War (1853-1856).  That crafter of alliances, Prince Otto von Bismarck (1815–1898; Chancellor of the German Empire, 1871-1890), attracted to something so over-arching yet meaning so little, sort of resurrected it after the unification of Germany in 1871 but the withered idea of a unifying Christendom proved by the 1880s not strong enough to prevail over Austrian and Russian self-interest in the squabbles in the Balkans as the edges of the Ottoman Empire began to fray.

Of unholy alliances

As a footnote, the Holy Alliance left a linguistic legacy: the phrase “unholy alliance”.  Unholy alliance is used to describe a coalition formed between improbable and usually antagonistic parties, such arrangements often ad hoc and the product of circumstance rather than choice.  There need not be any religious or anti-religious element for it to be applied and it’s a companion term to “strange bedfellows” or “uneasy bedfellows”. 

There have been many instances of use and it appeared in the platform of the Progressive Party, formed by Theodore Roosevelt (TR, 1858–1919; US president 1901-1909) to contest the 1912 US presidential election: “To destroy this invisible government, to dissolve the unholy alliance between corrupt business and corrupt politics is the first task of the statesmanship of the day.”  A classic statement of the rationale came from Winston Churchill (1875-1965; UK prime-minister 1940-1945 & 1951-1955) in 1941 when, after Germany invaded the Soviet Union (a unilateral repudiation of an earlier unholy alliance (the Nazi-Soviet pact of 1939) which was one of history’s more cynical arrangements between adversaries, both parties knowing it was being pursued for mutual advantage as a prelude to an eventual conflict between them), the UK suddenly had gained a wartime ally albeit one with which relations had been hardly friendly and often strained since the revolutions of 1917.  In a radio broadcast that evening Churchill announced: “No one has been a more consistent opponent of communism for the last twenty-five years. I will unsay no word I have spoken about it. But all this fades away before the spectacle which is now unfolding. The past, with its crimes, its follies, its tragedies, flashes away.… The Russian danger is therefore our danger, and the danger of the United States, just as the cause of any Russian fighting for hearth and house is the cause of free men and free peoples in every quarter of the globe.”  When one of his colleagues noted the queerness of him being the one to announce such an alliance, he remarked: “If Hitler invaded hell I would make at least a favorable reference to the devil in the House of Commons.”

Portrait of Clare Sheridan (then Ms Frewen) (1907), oil on canvas by Emil Fuchs (1866-1929) (left) and a sepia print of the younger Leon Trotsky (circa 1908) (right).  

Churchill didn’t approve of communism, his attitude hardened by the new regime in Moscow having murdered the last Tsar and his family.  Very much a monarchist (his wife once described him as “the last man in Europe who believes in the divine right of kings”), Churchill thus took a dim view of the Bolsheviks and while serving as Secretary of State for War and Air (1919–1921) was involved in the allied intervention supporting anti-Communist White forces in the Russian Civil War (1917-1922), his mood not improved when he learned his favorite cousin, the sculptor Clare Sheridan (1885–1970), had enjoyed a brief affair with comrade Leon Trotsky (1879-1940; founder of the Fourth International).  Whether he ever called Trotsky “the hairiest Bolshevik baboon of all” remains uncertain but it’s at least plausible and he would later tell his cousin “we shall never speak of this unpleasantness again”.  Her memories of the tryst remained fonder, recalling the time her lover had whispered: “a woman like you should be the whole world to a man.”  At least one “Bolshevik baboon” could be poetic.

By 1941, however bad he thought were the communists in Moscow, the Nazis in Berlin were worse so an alliance with the Soviet Union, unholy though it would have felt, Churchill welcomed with barely a qualm.  He was also more perceptive in his assessment of Russian resistance to the invasion than most military & political figures in London, Washington DC or Berlin, the consensus in those circles being the Red Army would be defeated within a few months.  Given the bloody purges comrade Stalin (1878-1953; Soviet leader 1924-1953) had committed against his military leadership and the poor performance of the Russian army against the Finns in 1940, the grim expectations weren’t unreasonable but Churchill offered good odds to anyone willing to take his bet: “I will bet you a Monkey to a Mousetrap that the Russians are still fighting, and fighting victoriously, two years from now.”  That was slang from the turf, a “Monkey” being a £500 wager and a “Mousetrap” a gold sovereign with a nominal value of £1 (ie odds of 500-1).  Unholy the alliance may have been and there were tensions throughout between Moscow, Washington & London but the need to defeat Nazism meant it survived long enough to fulfil its purpose before the Cold War became the world’s new primary political dynamic.

Farce

Farce (pronounced fahrs)

(1) To stuff; to cram (obsolete).

(2) To make fat; to swell out (obsolete).

(3) To render pompous (obsolete).

(4) In the Roman Catholic Church, an alternative form of farse (to insert vernacular paraphrases into a Latin liturgy).

(5) A light, humorous production (plays, television film etc) play in which the plot depends upon the exploitation of improbable (or even impossible) situations rather than upon the development of character.

(6) The genre of comedy represented by works of this kind

(7) Humor of the type displayed in such works.

(8) Something foolish; a mockery; a ridiculous sham, a ludicrous situation or action.

(9) In cooking, forcemeat (a mixture of finely chopped and seasoned foods, usually containing egg white, meat or fish, etc., used as a stuffing or served alone).

(10) To add witty material to a speech or composition.

1300–1350: From the Middle English noun fars (stuffing), from the Middle French farce, from the Vulgar Latin farsa, noun use of feminine of Latin farsus, from the earlier fartus (stuffed), past participle of the verb farcīre (to stuff) which Middle English picked up as farsen, from the Old French farsir & farcir, from Latin farciō (to cram, stuff).  It was a doublet of farse.  The origin of the Latin farcire (to stuff, cram) is of uncertain origin but some etymologists suggest it may be connected with the primitive Indo-European bhrekw- (to cram together).  Farce in the fourteenth century first meant the chopped-meat stuffing used in cooking and farced into dishes.  The idea of a scene or plotline of “ludicrous satire or low comedy” being interpolated into a play was first described as “a farcing and thus soon ‘a farce’”) in the 1520s, while the dramatic sense of a “ludicrous satire; low comedy” was from the French use of farce (comic interlude in a mystery play) was a sixteenth century development while in English, the generalized sense of “a ridiculous sham” came into use in the 1690s.  In literary use, the companion term is tragicofarcical (having elements of both tragedy and farce).  Farce is a noun & verb, farced & farcing are verbs and and farcical is an adjective; the noun plural is plural farces.  The adjective unfarced (also as un-farced) is used in cooking to distinguished a dish not farced from one farced; it is not used of plays or literature.

The now rare noun infarction first appeared in the medical literature in the 1680s as a noun of action from the Latin infarcire (to stuff into), the construct being in- )in the sense of “into” (from the primitive Indo-European root en- (in) + farcīre (to stuff).  In pathology it was widely used of various morbid local conditions but as technology and techniques improved and more specific descriptions evolved used declined and the early twentieth century it tended to be restricted to certain conditions caused by localized faults in the circulatory system.  The construct of the noun forcemeat (also as force-meat) was force (“to stuff (as a variant of farce)) + meat.  The term first appeared in cookbooks in the late 1670s (although the technique (as “farcing”) dated back centuries; it described “mincemeat, meat chopped fine & seasoned, then used as a stuffing”.

Karl Marx (left) who turned G.W.F. Hegel (right) "upside down on his head".

Nowhere did Karl Marx (1818-1883) ever write “history repeats itself” but the phrase “history repeats itself, the first time as tragedy, the second time as farce” is often attributed to him and has long been an undergraduate favourite.  The origin of that was in the first chapter of his essay Der 18te Brumaire des Louis Napoleon (18th Brumaire of Louis Bonapatre (1852)) in which, writing of Georg Wilhelm Friedrich Hegel (1770–1831) he wrote: “Hegel remarks somewhere that all great world-historic facts and personages appear, so to speak, twice.  He forgot to add: the first time as tragedy, the second time as farce.”  The “second time as farce” notion seems to have been something picked up from his benefactor & collaborator German philosopher Friedrich Engels (1820–1895) who a few months earlier, in one of his letters to Marx, had observed: “it really seems as though old Hegel, in the guise of the World Spirit, were directing history from the grave and, with the greatest conscientiousness, causing everything to be re-enacted twice over, once as grand tragedy and the second time as rotten farce, Caussidière for Danton, L. Blanc for Robespierre, Barthélemy for Saint-Just, Flocon for Carnot, and the moon-calf together with the first available dozen debt-encumbered lieutenants for the little corporal and his band of marshals. Thus the 18th Brumaire would already be upon us.”

In Zur Kritik der Hegelschen Rechtsphilosophie (Critique of Hegel's Philosophy of Right (1843), Marx had made a similar point:  “A coup d’état is sanctioned as it were in the opinion of the people if it is repeated.  Thus, Napoleon was defeated twice and twice the Bourbons were driven out.  Through repetition, what at the beginning seemed to be merely accidental and possible, becomes real and established.”  Marx did take a few interpretative liberties with Hegel.  When in Vorlesungen über die Philosophie der Weltgeschichte (Lectures on the Philosophy of History (a compilation of lectures delivered at University of Berlin in 1822, 1828 & 1830)), Hegel compared nature where “there is nothing new under the Sun,” with history where there is always development he was describing historical progression in terms of the Hegelian philosophy which holds that history follows the dictates of reason and that the natural progress of history is due to the outworking of absolute spirit.  Still, Marx did boast that to make use of Hegel's dialectic he had to “turn him upside down on his head” so perhaps he felt entitled to kick the dead man’s ideas around a bit.

The farce on stage and in literature

In literary use, the farce is a form of comedy where the purpose is to “provoke mirth of the simplest and most basic kind: roars of laughter rather than smiles; humour rather than wit.  It is associated with, but must be distinguished from, burlesque; it is with clowning, buffoonery and knockabout slapstick, a form of ‘low’ comedy in which the basic elements are: exaggerated physical action (often repeated), exaggeration of character and situation in which absurd, improbable (even impossible ones and therefore fantastical) events and surprises in the form of unexpected appearances and disclosures”.  In farce, character and dialogue are nearly always subservient to plot and situation with plots often complex, events succeeding with a sometimes bewildering rapidity.

Quite when the first farces were performed is not known but historians seem to agree it would certainly have predated anything in the literary tradition.  Elements recognizably “farces” exist in some surviving plays from Antiquity in which “low comedy” in the shape of ridiculous situations and ludicrous results, ribaldry and junketings are interpolated into works of satire and studies of the farce have identified the device in Greek satyr play and the Roman fabak.  Technically though, the first plays actually described as “farces” were French works from the late Middle Ages where there were “stuffings” described as “between scenes”: comic interludes between the “serious” parts in religious or liturgical drama.  Usually, such “stuffings” were written in octosyllabic (containing eight syllables) couplets with an average length of some 500 lines.  These interpolations poked fun at the foibles and vices of everyday life (particularly at commercial knavery and conjugal infidelity, two subjects with enduring audience appeal).

The Taming of the Shrew, Barbican Theatre, June 2019.  For the RSC (Royal Shakespeare Company), Justin Audibert (b 1981) re-imagined the England of the 1590s as a matriarchy in which Baptista Minola is seeking to sell off her son Katherine to the highest bidder.

Later, in French theatre, these farcical interludes developed into a form of their own: the “one-act farce”, pieces which were in their time something like to short-form clips which TikTok made a business model.  The contemporary English Mystery Plays also often included one or more comic interludes and interestingly, demonic & grotesque figures behaving in a buffoonish manner (letting off fireworks something of a theme) appeared with much greater frequency than in France.  In the time of the Morality Plays, apart from aberrations like William Shakespeare’s (1564–1616) The Taming of the Shrew (1592) & The Comedy of Errors (circa 1593), there was little written for the English stage which could truly be described as farce but by the time the genre of “Restoration comedy” (known sometimes as “Comedy of manners”) had become established in the late seventeenth century, farce was back to celebrate the re-opening of public stage performances, banned for the previous 18 years by the Puritan regime.  For better or worse, farce has been with us ever since.

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

It can be difficult to decided whether “farce”, “fiasco” or “debacle” best applies in particular circumstances.  Indeed, it seems difficult to formulate anything close to a “rule” and every situation will need to be judged on its merits.  However, as a general principle, the pattern of use seems to indicate: (1) Farce is used in a way which hints at the theatrical tradition: real-life situations that are ridiculously chaotic and ludicrous, almost comical in their dysfunction. (2) A fiasco is a total utter failure, usually in a public and humiliating way when things have gone very wrong, typically due to poor planning or execution. (3) A debacle is an ignominious failure and one which often implies a broader, more significant collapse, sometimes with serious consequences.

The farce of excommunication

Presumably the Spanish nuns of The Poor Clares of Belorado chose their words with care when in June 2024 they condemned the Holy See’s action against them as “the farce of excommunication” although whether they were still within the holy communion of the Church to be excommunicated may be a moot point because the sisters insisted they had already severed all connections with the Vatican and their departure from the “Conciliar Church” was “unanimous and irreversible”.  The exchange of views between Rome and Castile-Leon came after the sisters declined to attend the ecclesial tribunal of Burgos to which they had been summoned, their notice of no-attendance transmitted to the Archbishop of Burgos with a hint of rejection of modernity: they used the fax machine.  Informing the archbishop they had left the Conciliar Church “freely, voluntarily, unanimously and in a spirit of joy”, their fax message asserted the ecclesiastical tribunal had “no jurisdiction” over them since their separation the previous month which their said was prompted by the “larceny” of the Second Vatican Council (Vatican II; 1962-1965), adding that no pope after Pius XII (1876-1958; pope 1939-1958) was “legitimate”.

Being careful with words, it must be assumed the sisters were thus declaring Pope Francis (b 1936; pope since 2013) an “illegitimate pope” rather than an “anti-pope”, a distinction of some significance to canon lawyers.  “Illegitimate pope” is a general term for any pope whose election or claim to the papacy is deemed invalid or improper according to the canonical laws and practices of the Church; such a state can arise from procedural failures or the appointee lacking the requisite qualifications.  An “anti-pope” is one who makes a claim to the papacy in opposition to the pope recognized by the majority of the Catholic Church, a status which is of any consequence only if such a person has a significant following among Catholics.  Typically, anti-popes have existed during periods of schism.

Belorado Convento de Santa María de Bretonera.

Founded in 1358, in 1458 the monastery was damaged during one of the feudal battles which for more than two centuries would from time-to-time briefly flare, the structure repaired two years later.  Built in the Gothic style, there are Baroque style altar-pieces from the seventeenth century and a pipe organ dating from 1799.  The Monastery of Santa Clara is presided over by nuns of the order of the Poor Clares.

So, being critical mass theorists like any good Catholics, the sisters would understand that at the moment, Francis “has the numbers” but they certainly seem to be attempting something schismatic, their 70-page manifesto explaining that henceforth the nuns would follow the spiritual leadership of Pablo de Rojas Sánchez-Franco (b 1982), a self-styled “bishop” and professed admirer of the fascist dictator Generalissimo Francisco Franco (1892-1975; Caudillo of Spain 1939-1975); De Rojas-Franco was excommunicated in 2019.  Like the sisters, Mr De Rojas-Franco is a sedisvacantist (one who regards all popes after Pius XII to be illegitimate heads of the Church; in this view, the Holy See in Rome is actually sede vacante (vacant throne) and Francis a heretic and usurper to be spoken of only as “Mr Bergoglio”.  One implication of this is that many post 1958 ordinations are also invalid so any penalty or canonical sanction “imposed by those who are not valid or legitimate bishops, and who have no power over souls” are thus null and void”.  In other words, “Mr Bergoglio, you can’t excommunicate us”, hence the description of Rome’s edict as a farce.

Chocolates and biscuits made by nuns of The Poor Clares of Belorado.  Presumably, chocolates made by heretics are more sinful than those made by the faithful.

So the ecclesiastical battle lines have been drawn and the Holy See has clearly decided the chirothecœ (liturgical gloves) are off, the 10 nuns of the order reporting sales of the pastries and chocolate truffles they produce as their only source of income are down, the faithful of the nearby villages clearing having been told by their priests to buy their sweet treats from non-heretics.  According to Rome, the bolshie Poor Clare nuns of Belorado have committed the crime of schism (Canon 751 of the Code of Canon Law states defines schism as “the refusal of submission to the supreme pontiff or of communion with the members of the Church subject to him”, the penalty for which is excommunication).  Since burnings at the stake and such became unfashionable, excommunication is now the most serious penalty a baptized person can incur; it consists of being placed outside the communion of the faithful of the Catholic Church and denied access to the sacraments but it need not be final, the theological purpose of the act being “to bring the guilty to repentance and conversion” and, in a phrase with internal logic which makes complete sense in the corridors of the Vatican: “With the penalty of excommunication the Church is not trying in some way to restrict the extent of mercy but is simply making evident the seriousness of the crime.”

Of course heretics are flesh and blood and as they have declared themselves no longer members of the Catholic Church, by remaining in the monastery they are occupying property of the Church to which they do not belong and may be found to have no legal right to stay there.  Their archbishop has told them they are now trespassing but seems to be taking a patient approach, saying he hopes they will leave of their own volition, avoid the need to assemble a team of black-clad monsignors forcibly to evict them.  The social media savvy Francis would understand that might be “bad optics”.  Still, the archbishop insists the matter will be pursued and that Spanish civil law recognizes the Church’s Code of Canon Law as governing such things, adding “…they were told that they should not be in the monastery and in a steadfast and contumacious way they persist in being there”, concluding ominously “…so the legal authorities will act against them.”

This is not an isolated case and in the last year there have been a number of excommunications of bishops and archbishops, all of whom have denied the legitimacy of Francis, some actually calling him “a heretic”, something almost unknown for centuries.  With the death of Benedict XVI (1927–2022; pope 2005-2013, pope emeritus 2013-2022), so died too the last restraining influence on Francis’s reformist tendencies and the tensions which have mostly be suppressed since Vatican II are now bubbling over.  As an amusing spectacle for the neutrals, Church politics: (“You’re a heretic!”, “No, you’re a heretic!”) is something like modern Spanish political discourse: (“You’re a fascist!”, “No, you’re a fascist!”) but how this plays out in what may be the last days of this pontificate is likely much to influence the voting in the College of Cardinals when it comes time to choose the next pope.

As the Vatican takes heresy seriously, so the fashionistas guard haute couture.  The reaction to Lindsay Lohan brief fling as fashion designer for Ungaro, Paris Fashion Week, March 2010.

Antidisestablishmentarianism

Antidisestablishmentarianism (pronounced an-tee-dis-uh-stab-lish-muhn-tair-ee-uh-niz-uhm)

Opposition to the withdrawal of state support or recognition from an established (state) church.

1838: A compound word: anti + dis + establishment + arian + ism.  Anti- is from the Middle English from the Latin from the Ancient Greek.  It’s a prefixal use of antí; akin to the Sanskrit ánti (opposite), the Latin ante and the Middle Dutch ende.  Dis- is a Latin prefix used to impart the meanings “apart,” “asunder,” “away,” “utterly,” or having a privative, negative, or reversing force.  In English, it’s long been used freely, especially with these latter senses, as an English formative.  Establishment is drawn from the Old French establissement (and persists in Modern French as établissement), derived from the verb establir from the Old Occitan establir, from Latin stabilīre (present active infinitive of stabiliō); cognates include Occitan establir, French établir and Italian stabilire.  The –arian suffix dates from circa 1530, from the Late Latin ariānus.  It was a suffix forming personal nouns corresponding to Latin adjectives ending in -ārius or English adjectives or nouns ending in –ary and subsequently proved productive in English with other Latinate stems, forming nouns denoting a person who supports, advocates, or practices a doctrine, theory, or set of principles associated with the base word (authoritarian, vegetarian etc).  The –ism suffix is from the Ancient Greek –ismos & -isma noun suffixes, often directly, often through the Latin –ismus & -isma, though sometimes through the French –isme or the German –ismus, all ultimately from the Greek.  It appeared in loanwords from Greek, where it was used to form action nouns from verbs and on this model, was used as a productive suffix in the formation of nouns denoting action or practice, state or condition, principles, doctrines, a usage or characteristic, devotion or adherence (criticism; barbarism; Darwinism; despotism; plagiarism; realism; witticism etc).

Portrait of King Henry VIII, circa 1509, unknown artist.  This is the earliest portrait of Henry as king of England known to have survived.  It’s hung in the Denver Art Museum.

It was Henry VIII (1491–1547; King of England (and Ireland after 1541) 1509-1547) who created what endures in England to this day as the established church, the phrase “Church of England” becoming frequently used immediately after the act of separation in 1534.  The king separated the English church from the authority of Rome to become one of a number created in the wake of the Protestant Reformation, not because of any theological or doctrinal differences, but in order to secure the annulment of his marriage to Catherine of Aragon (1485-1536).  Having found the pope unwilling to annul, he had himself instead declared supreme head of the Church in England, the schism with Rome (with the exception of a brief interruption), unhealed to this day.  Problem solved.  There is a distinction between the Church in England and the Church of England, the roots of Christianity in the British Isles established during England’s time as a province of the Roman Empire early in the first millennium.  From these beginnings there were forks and regional divergences until 597 when a Gregorian mission by Augustine of Canterbury visited, Christianity in England from that point subject to the authority of the Pope.  So it continued until 1534, England even once providing a pope (Adrian IV, circa 1100- 1159, pope 1154-1159), noted now for his contribution to the Irish problem unsolved even now.

Generally pointless and the Germans do it better

With twenty-eight letters and twelve syllables, antidisestablishmentarianism is often cited as the longest word in English.  However, floccinaucinihilipilification (a waggish schoolboy creation in Latin meaning “the act or habit of describing or regarding something as worthless”, the construct being floccus (a wisp) +‎ naucum (a trifle) +‎ nihilum (nothing) +‎ pilus (a hair) + -fication (process of becoming)) is one letter longer and the longest non-technical word in English.  It was once used in a debate in the UK House of Commons, although, even that wasn’t the longest ever spoken in Westminster, pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis (a factitious creation said to mean “a lung disease caused by inhalation of very fine silica dust usually found in volcanos”) having been earlier used during a select committee enquiry.  An opportunist extension of the medical term pneumonoconiosis, it was coined during the proceedings of the National Puzzlers' League convention in 1935 in an attempt to create English’s longest word but was dismissed by dictionaries as fake, clinicians and textbooks still referring to the disease as pneumonoconiosis, pneumoconiosis, or silicosis.  British dictionaries may feel compelled to include antidisestablishmentarianism but many overseas publications do not, on the basis there’s hardly any record of its use except in lists of long words which some editors treat as lexicographical freak shows.  Merriam-Webster's Collegiate Dictionary lists the longest as electroencephalographically, a physician’s diagnostic too.

English doesn't encourage the conjuring of the long compound words familiar in German.  The classic long German word is Donaudampfschiffahrtsgesellschaftskapitän (42 letters) meaning "Danube steamship company captain" but there are others, not all of which dictionaries accept.  Betäubungsmittelverschreibungsverordnung (41 letters) means "regulation requiring a prescription for an anaesthetic”; Bezirksschornsteinfegermeister (30 letters) means “head district chimney sweep"; Rechtsschutzversicherungsgesellschaften (39 letters) means "legal protection insurance companies".  Enterprising Germans created Donaudampfschifffahrtselektrizitätenhauptbetriebswerkbauunterbeamtengesellschaft (80 letters) meaning "association of subordinate officials of the head office management of the Danube steamboat electrical services" but this was held to be bogus and rejected by all authorities which maintained the 63 letter Rindfleischetikettierungsüberwachungsaufgabenübertragungsgesetz ("beef labelling regulation and delegation of supervision law") remained the longest.  It was a real word in actual (if rare) use though usually through the more manageable abbreviation ReÜAÜG but it was rendered obsolete by changes to EU regulations.  Currently, the longest word accepted by most German dictionaries is the 36 letter Kraftfahrzeughaftpflichtversicherung (automobile liability insurance).

Regarding the substantive matter of disestablishment, it’s a political position developed in nineteenth century Britain in opposition to the Liberal Party’s proposal for the removal of the Anglicans’ status as the state church of England, Ireland, and Wales.  The establishment was maintained in England, but the Church of Ireland was disestablished in 1871 and the four Church of England dioceses in Wales were disestablished in 1920, becoming the Church in Wales.  Given the nature of the modern Church of England, it’s a matter seldom mentioned as a constitutional reform of pressing importance.