Coup

Coup (pronounced koo)

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

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

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

(4) A rubbish tip.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Unrequited

Unrequited (pronounced uhn-ri-kwahy-tid)

(1) Of love, not returned or reciprocated.

(2) Not avenged or retaliated.

(3) Not repaid or satisfied.

1535–1545: The construct was un- + the past participle of requit (ie +-ed).  The un- prefix was from the Middle English un-, from the Old English un-, from the Proto-West Germanic un-, from the Proto-Germanic un-, from the primitive Indo-European n̥-.  It was cognate with the Scots un- & on-, the North Frisian ün-, the Saterland Frisian uun-, the West Frisian ûn- &  on-, the Dutch on-, the Low German un- & on-, the German un-, the Danish u-, the Swedish o-, the Norwegian u- and the Icelandic ó-.  It was (distantly) related to the Latin in- and the Ancient Greek ἀ- (a-), source of the English a-, the Modern Greek α- (a-) and the Sanskrit अ- (a-).  The verb requite dates from circa 1400 in the sense of "repay" (for good or ill), the construct being re- (back) + the Middle English quite (clear, pay up), an early variant of the verb quit preserved in this word.  The –ed suffix was from the Middle English –ede & -eden, from the Old English –ode & -odon (weak past ending), from the Proto-Germanic -ōd- & -ōdēdun.  It was cognate with the Saterland Frisian -ede (-ed) (first person singular past indicative ending), the Swedish -ade (-ed) and the Icelandic -aði.  The suffix was used to form past tenses of (regular) verbs. In linguistics, it remains used for the base form of any past form.  Unrequited is an adjective.  In English, from the 1540s, the earliest reference of the Middle English requiten (to repay), from Old French requiter, is to love affairs.

Probably few were as suited to the calling of suffering as Sylvia Plath (1932-1963) so in taking Ted Hughes (1930–1998; Poet Laureate 1984-2008) as a husband, she made a good career move.

When you give someone your whole heart and he doesn't want it, you cannot take it back. It's gone forever.  Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar (1963).

Path's only novel, The Bell Jar was first published in the UK under the pen-name "Victoria Lucas" and is usually described as "semi-autobiographical", names of people & places changed to protect the innocent and the guilty, a literary genre known as a Roman à clef (from the French and literally "novel with a key"), the notion of the "key" being that certain knowledge allows a reader to "unlock" the truth, a instance of "reading between the lines" and the technique has widely been used for reasons both personal and legal.  Within a month of publication, Plath would take her own life and it wasn't until 1967 The Bell Jar was re-released under her name.  Dr Heather Clark's (b 1974) recent biography of Plath (Red Comet (2021)) was outstanding.

Emily Brontë (1818–1848) receives insufficient credit for inventing the modern emo and there are more strands of her in them than there are of the brooding German romantics who tend to be more acknowledged.  Were they here today, Cathy and Heathcliff would be in their darkened bedrooms, on their phones, friending and un-friending each other.

You loved me-then what right had you to leave me? What right-answer me-for the poor fancy you felt for Linton?  Because misery and degradation, and death, and nothing that God or Satan could inflict would have parted us, you, of your own will, did it. I have not broken your heart - you have broken it; and in breaking it, you have broken mine.  Emily Brontë, Wuthering Heights (1847).

Her only novel, Wuthering Heights was first published under the ambiguous pen name "Ellis Bell", a hint at the attitudes of many in the literary establishment (and not a few publishers) towards women writers.  Tellingly, critics at the time were often not kind and while the power of the text was noted, for most it seems to have been too raw to be thought "respectable" fiction and it's latter day reputation as one of the classics of English literature evolved only in the twentieth century under the influence of modernist writing and proto-feminism.  Wuthering Heights is one of those books best read when young because if too long delayed, the historic moment may have passed.  That said, there have probably been some young ladies who read it while at their most impressionable and never quite recovered.

There are many portraits of William Shakespeare (1564–1616) but all are of at least dubious provenance and although there is a contemporary reference to a painting or drawing existing during his lifetime, it's thought all known images were probably created after his death.

If asked to distil from Shakespeare’s works the two most frequent themes, one might suggest "low skulduggery" and "unrequited love" though that’s something which might be said of many literary traditions.  In unrequited love Shakespeare saw comedic potential as well as tragedy because it’s as present in Much Ado About Nothing (1598) & All’s Well that Ends Well (1602) as it is in Romeo & Juliet (1594) where youthful agonies are laid bare.  Sometimes there’s overlap between the tragic and the comic: Malvolio’s desire for the affections Olivia in Twelfth Night (1602) are played for laughs although there’s something cruel about the way things end.  In Cymbeline (1609), it’s a tangle with a flavour of a modern TV talk show, Cloten besotted with Imogen, his mother’s husband’s daughter (ie his step-sister).  Queen Katharine (Catherine of Aragon) in Henry VIII (1613) was the first of the king’s many wives and was both abandoned and bewildered why her love was unrequited but Henry had his own agenda and was in some was perhaps closer to Falstaff in The Merry Wives of Windsor (1597) where it’s really an unrequited lust.  Low skulduggery and unrequited love are both explored in Othello (1603), Roderigo’s longing for Desdemona rendering him vulnerable to manipulation by the evil Iago who harbours his own desires.  In Measure for Measure (1603) there’s a reward for Mariana enduring “five years” of unrequited love for “thou cruel Angelo” who cancelled their engagement because he dowery wasn’t enough: “Her promised proportions / Came short of composition”.  Angelo however is outwitted and Mariana gets her man.  In that case, for her at least, all was well that ends well.  So in Shakespeare there is plenty of unrequited love but he seems to have found the Norse and other Germanic myths emotionally over-wrought and was more pragmatic:

Why then, O brawling love! O loving hate!
O any thing, of nothing first create!
O heavy lightness, serious vanity,
Misshapen chaos of well-seeming forms,
Feather of lead, bright smoke, cold fire, sick health,
Still-waking sleep, that is not what it is!
This love feel I, that feel no love in this.
William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet (1594)

The Roman Poet Ovid (Publius Ovidius Naso; 43 BC–17 AD) in the 814 line Remedia Amoris ("Love's Remedy", circa 2 AD) offered a cure for pining youth suffering the pangs of unrequited love.  His solutions included travel, teetotalism, gardening and, without any apparent sense of irony, the avoidance of love poets.

Lindsay Lohan, Something That I Never Had from Speak (2004).

Do you see me?

Do you feel me like I feel you?

Call your number

I cannot get through

You don't hear me

And I don't understand

When I reach out

Well, I don't find your hand

 

Were they wasted words?

And did they mean a thing

And all that precious time

But I still feel so in-between

 

Someday, I just keep pretending

That you'll stay

Dreaming of a different ending

I wanna hold on

But it hurts so bad

And I can't keep something that I never had

 

Well, I keep tellin' myself

Things can turn around with time

And if I wait it out

You could always change your mind

Like a fairytale

Where it works out in the end

Can I close my eyes?

Have you lying here again

Lindsay Lohan's Something That I Never Had was a tale of the agony of unrequited love.  She should have read from Part XIII of Ovid's Remedia Amoris:

Remembering reopens love, the wound’s newly re-opened:
trifling errors damage the weak-minded.
Consider how, if you touch ashes that are almost dead
with sulphur, they revive, and a tall flame comes from nothing.
So, if you don’t avoid whatever reawakens love,
the flames will light again that once were quenched.

Duplicity

Duplicity (pronounced doo-plis-i-tee or dyoo-plis-i-tee)

(1) Deceitfulness in speech or conduct, as by speaking or acting in two different ways to different people concerning the same matter; double-dealing.

(2) An act or instance of such deceitfulness.

(3) In law, the act or fact of including two or more offenses in one count, or charge, as part of an indictment, thus violating the requirement that each count contain only a single offense.

1400–1450: From the Late Middle English, from the Old French duplicite, from the Late Latin duplicitatem (nominative duplicitas (doubleness)).  Technically, the word wa borrowed from Latin duplicāre (double), present active infinitive of duplicō and the Medieval Latin duplicitās differed with ite replacing itās.  The notion is of being "double" in one's conduct ultimately is derived from the Ancient Greek diploos (treacherous, double-minded) which translates literally as "twofold, double".  Related in Medieval Latin was ambiguity, noun of quality from duplex, genitive (duplicis (two-fold)).

Duplicity good and bad

Because such conduct is inherent to human interaction, there are many words either similar in meaning or a synonym of duplicity.  Duplicity is the form of deceitfulness that leads one to give two impressions, either or both of which may be false.  Deceit is the quality that prompts intentional concealment or perversion of truth for the purpose of misleading.  The quality of guile leads to craftiness in the use of deceit; one uses guile and trickery to attain one's ends. Hypocrisy is the pretence of possessing virtuous qualities such as sincerity, goodness or devotion.  Fraud refers usually to the practice of subtle deceit or duplicity by which one may derive benefit at another's expense.  Trickery is the quality that leads to the use of tricks and habitual deception.  In modern English usage, the most common sense of duplicity is “deceitfulness.”  The roots of this meaning are in the initial dupl from the Latin duplex (twofold, or double).  We do seem a duplicitous lot.

Alexander Haig (1924–2010; US Secretary of State 1981-1982) & Ronald Reagan (1911–2004; US President 1981-1989) (left) and Lord Carrington (1919–2018; UK Foreign Secretary 1979-1982) & Margaret Thatcher (1925–2013; UK Prime Minister 1979-1990) (right).

To accuse someone duplicity is usually to allege or suggest something negative, the idea that someone has acted in a manner perhaps not dishonest but certainly misleading or dishonorable.  However there are fields of endeavor where the successfully duplicitous are often admired and the most Machiavellian can be held in awe.  In international relations, it’s true in the upper reaches of diplomacy.

Duplicity, art and science: Haig and Carrington, the White House, 26 February 1981.

More than General Colin Powell (b 1937; US Secretary of State 2001-2005) and more even than General Dwight Eisenhower (1890–1969; US President 1953-1961), General Alexander Haig (1924-2010) was an exemplar of that uniquely Washington DC creature, the political soldier, whose career shuttled between the military, diplomacy and politics.  After a meeting in 1981, Haig was heard to remark the UK Foreign Secretary, Lord Carrington, was a "duplicitous bastard".  Beyond the beltway, that would be a disparaging comment, but, in the world of international diplomacy, it’s more an expression of admiration of professional skill.

Mean Girls (2004), a story of duplicity, low skulduggery, Machiavellian manipulation, lies & deceit.  As a morality tale, the message can be reduced to: “Women would rather hear brilliant lies than honest truths”.

Traduce

Traduce (pronounced truh-doos or truh-dyoos)

(1) To malign a person or entity by making malicious and/or false or defamatory statements; slander; libel; defame.

(2) To pass on (to one's children, future generations etc.); to transmit (archaic).

(3) To pass into another form of expression; to rephrase, to translate (archaic).

1525–1535: From the Latin trādūcō (lead as a spectacle, dishonor), from trādūcere (to lead over, transmit, disgrace), a variant of trānsdūcere (to transfer, display, expose), the construct being tra- (from the preposition trāns (through, across, beyond)) + dūcere (to lead).  Synonyms include vilify, decry & disparage.  The Latin trādūcere was from the Proto-Italic tranzdoukō and cognates included the Italian tradurre and the French traduire.  The noun transduction (act of leading or carrying over) is from the 1650s, from the Latin transductionem & traducionem (nominative transductio) (a removal, transfer), noun of action from the past-participle stem of transducere & traducere (change over, convert) which also picked up the meaning "lead in parade, make a show of, dishonor, disgrace".  Traduce, traduction, traduced & traducing are verbs, traducement & traducer are nouns, traducingly is an adverb and traducible is an adjective; the most common noun plural is traducements.

To be traduced in speech or in writing (historically treated in English (and related) legal systems respectively as libel and slander but some systems have reformed their rules and now treat all as just the single concept of defamation) can allow the victim to seek redress through legal process, the available remedies including retractions, apologies and damages by way of financial compensation.  Also available is the injunction to prevent publication and what has become popular in some jurisdictions in the (secret) secret injunction, a device whereby (1) publication is denied, (2) all details of the matter (names of the parties or even an allusion to the nature of the proscribed material) and (3) the very fact any injunction has been granted is kept secret.

Mostly a thing of civil law, in some jurisdictions there’s still the offence of criminal defamation but its very existence is now less common and use seldom.  Criminal defamation exists when someone publishes defamatory material knowing it is, or not caring if it is, false with the intention to, or not having regard to whether it will, cause serious harm to the victim or any other person is guilty of a crime.  In most cases, the same defenses available in a civil action can be used in a criminal matter; a criminal charge does not preclude civil action being taken for the same publication.  The matter of truth is interesting.  In the United States, truth is an absolute defense to an action for defamation.  As many have found out, that doesn’t mean there aren’t in the US consequences for publishing something defamatory but the action taken will not be on grounds of libel or slander.  Although it seems strange to many, truth isn’t an absolute defense in many jurisdictions but it can be a matter raised in mitigation so that even if a judgment is delivered against a defendant, the damages awarded may be nominal.

Publish and be damned

Although there’s always been a suspicion a ghost writer may have helped a bit in matters of style, the content of Harriette Wilson’s (1786–1845) book The Memoirs of Harriette Wilson: Written by Herself was all her own.  First published in 1825, it was a best seller and thought topical enough to deserve a re-print a century later, it’s notable still for having one of the finest opening lines of any auto-biography ever published:

"I shall not say how and why I became, at the age of fifteen, the mistress of the Earl of Craven."

The cover of some of the French editions were more alluring than those sold in England.

However much the tales of Regency’s most revealing courtesan may have delighted readers, there was one not so happy.  In the mail one morning in December 1824, Arthur Wellesley (1st Duke of Wellington; 1769–1852, UK prime-minister 1828-1830) the famous soldier who led the coalition of armies which defeated Napoleon Bonaparte (1769–1821; leader of the French Republic 1799-1804 & Emperor of the French from 1804-1814 & 1815) at Waterloo in 1815, found a letter from the publisher John Joseph Stockdale (circa 1775-1847) which can’t have been pleasant reading.  Stockdale was attempting blackmail, advising the duke he was about to publish Miss Wilson’s revelations which contained “various anecdotes” of Wellington which “it would be most desirable to withhold” and that could be arranged were payment to be made.

Duke of Wellington (1816) by Sir Thomas Lawrence (1769-1830).

The duke's response was the famous “Publish and be damned!” reputedly scrawled across Stockdale’s letter and sent to him by return mail.  Publish Stockdale did, the book, a romp through the beds of the aristocracy appearing by installments before appearing in bookshops where it scandalized and thrilled London society although it would have been more salacious still had more of Stockdale’s blackmail victims had the fortitude of the iron duke and refused to pay.  An instant best-seller, the book went through thirty-one printings in a year and pirated copies were on-sale all over the continent but even without revenue from overseas sales the book was lucrative although the Stockdale was soon ruined by libel suits from those whose reputations had been traduced and Miss Wilson would eventually die in obscurity.

Riveting reading it may have been but so many of the libel actions against Stockdale were able to succeed in English courts because of the many errors of detail and chronology but historians nevertheless agree the narrative is substantially a reliable track of Miss Wilson’s adventures even if the sequence of events is sometimes misleading; to be fair, she had so many affairs it would be churlish not to allow for a little vagueness of recollection, one man presumably much the same as another after a while.  Whether “Publish and be damned!” in the duke’s own hand was ever written across the letter and sent back has never been confirmed because the original apparently hasn’t survived but there’s enough evidence from contemporaries to leave no doubt he certainly spoke the words but whatever she wrote of her time with Wellington, it must have been sufficiently truthful to convince the duke not to issue a writ for libel, despite at the time having threatened to sue “...if such rubbish is published”.

His marriage was already unhappy and the disclosures probably little surprised the duchess and the union endured until her death while the book clearly did no lasting harm to the duke's public reputation, the hero of Waterloo afforded some latitude in pre-Victorian England.  Within a decade of publication he would be prime minister and when he died in 1852, he was again a national hero and granted a state funeral, a rare distinction in England, unlike Australia where they’re given to reasonably successful football coaches and television personalities.  The phrase “Publish and be damned!” entered the language and was in 1953 used as the title of a book detailing the history of the Daily Mirror newspaper, a tabloid which once had its own interesting history.

To keep track of one's traductions, it's recommended a burn book be maintained.  Introduced to the world in Mean Girls (2004), "burn" in this context was used in the sense of "an insult, a disparaging statement" and, depending on one's motives, a burn book can either focus exclusively on one individual worthy of being burned (eg crooked Hillary Clinton) or be devoted to a villainous group (eg the Republican Party).  One of the attractions of a burn book is that nothing, however scurrilous, need be verified and heresy evidence is admissible (indeed it's probably obligatory).  Thus, accusations against someone of stuff like voting Tory, belonging to the Freemasons, enjoying sexual relations with certain vegetables & fruits (all three perhaps not unrelated), substance abuse or hoarding all belong in a burn book and, if selectively and anonymously leaked, reputations will be traduced.  The other utility a burn book offers is that nothing gets forgotten however great the volume, an important point for any traducer who likely will find someone like crooked Hillary will attract hundreds of entries.  Surely, Harriette Wilson kept a burn book.

Politicians do maintain burn books although few are much discussed.  Richard Nixon's (1913-1994; US president 1969-1974) "enemies list" became famous in 1973 when it emerged during congressional hearings enquiring into the Watergate break-in and that such a list existed surprised few although some did expect it to contain more names than the twenty included; it was common knowledge Nixon had many more enemies than that.  That view was vindicated when later lists were revealed (some containing hundreds of names) though had the net been cast a little wider, it could well have run to thousands.  At least one Eurocrat has also admitted to keeping a burn book although Jean-Claude Juncker (b 1954; president of the European Commission 2014-2019) calls his "little black book" Le Petit Maurice (little Maurice), the name apparently a reference to a contemporary from his school days who grew taller than the youthful Jean-Claude and seldom neglected to mention it.  Although maintained for some thirty years (including the eighteen spent as prime-minister of Luxembourg) to record the identities of those who crossed him, Mr Junker noted with some satisfaction it wasn't all that full because people “rarely betray me”, adding “I am not vengeful, but I have a good memory.”   It seems his warning “Be careful.  Little Maurice is waiting for you” was sufficient to ward of the betrayal and low skulduggery for which the corridors of EU institutions are renowned.

Antichrist

Antichrist (pronounced an-ti-krahyst)

(1) In Christian theology, a particular personage or power, variously identified or explained, who is conceived of as appearing in the world as the principal antagonist of Christ.

(2) An opponent of Christ; a person or power antagonistic to Christ (sometimes lowercase).

(3) A disbeliever in Christ (often initial lowercase)

(4) A false Christ (often initial lowercase).

1400s: From the Middle English, from the (pre 1150) Late Old English antecrist (an opponent of Christ, an opponent of the Church, especially the last and greatest persecutor of the faith at the end of the world), from the Late Latin Antichrīstus, from the Late Greek ἀντίχριστος (antíkhristos & antíchrīstos (I John ii.18)), the construct being aντί- (anti-) (against) + khristos (Christ); the Greek Χριστός meaning "anointed one".   This was the earliest appearance of anti- in English and one of the few before circa 1600.  In contemporary English, it’s often (but not always) preceded by the definite article: the Antichrist.  Antichrist is a noun, antichristian is a noun & adjective, antichristianism is a proper noun, antichristianly is an adverb and antichristic is an adjective; the noun plural is antichrists.

The Antichrist and the End of Days

The Antichrist is mentioned in three passages in The New Testament, all in the First and Second Epistles of John (I John 2.18-27, I John 4.1-6, 2 John 7).  Common to all is the theme of Christian eschatology, that the Antichrist is the one prophesied by the Bible who will substitute themselves in Christ's place before the Second Coming.  Biblical scholars note also the term pseudokhristos (false Christ) in the books of Matthew (chapter 24) and Mark (chapter 13), Jesus warning the disciples not to be deceived by false prophets claiming to be Christ and offering "great signs and wonders".  Other imagery which can be associated with an Antichrist is mentioned in the Apostle Paul's Second Epistle to the Thessalonians and, of course, the Beast in the Book of Revelation.  The scriptural language is redolent with drama, the Antichrist spoken of or alluded to as the “abomination of desolation”, “the son of perdition”, “the man of lawlessness” or “the beast” (from earth or sea).

For most of the Middle Ages, it was the scriptural construct of the Antichrist as an individual which dominated Christian thought; the Antichrist born of Satan but yet an earthly tyrant and trickster, perfectly evil in all he was and did because he was the diametric opposite of Jesus Christ, perfect in his goodness and deeds.  Jesus Christ, the son of God, was born of a virgin into earthly existence and the Antichrist, the son of Satan would be born of the antivirgin, a whore who, like her evil offspring, would claim purity.  More than a fine theological point, it’s also quite deliberately a hurdle for Christ to cross in his Second Coming.  Where Christ was God in the flesh, the Antichrist was Satan in the flesh and point was to beware of imitations.  This was the framework of the medieval narrative, well understood and hardly remarkable but writers fleshed it out to create essentially two threads.  For centuries there was the idea of the single Antichrist who would accrue his disciples, have his followers accept him as the Messiah and put to the sword those who did not.  He would then rule for seven years before until his defeat and destruction by (depending on the author) the archangel Gabriel or Christ the true and his divine armies, all before the resurrection of the dead and the day of Final Judgement.

For two-thousand-odd years, there has been speculation about the identity of the Antichrist. 

By the late Middle Ages, another narrative thread evolved, this one with a modern, structuralist flavor and one more able to be harnessed to a political agenda.  Now the Antichrist was presented not as a force of evil outside the Church but the evil force within, the deceiver perhaps the Pope, the institution of the papacy or the very structure of the Church.  This was a marvellously adaptable theory, well suited to those seeking to attack the institutional church for it rendered the Antichrist as whatever the construct needed to be: the flesh incarnate of a pope, the sins and corruption of a dozen popes and his cardinals or the very wealth and power of the institution, with all that implied for its relationships with the secular world.  That was the position of the more uncompromising of those who fermented the Protestant Reformation of the sixteenth century.  The monk Martin Luther (1483-1546) saw about him venality, depravity and corruption and knew the end of days and the Final Judgement was close, the pope the true “end times Antichrist who has raised himself over and set himself against Christ”.  Unlike the long tradition of antipopes, this was true eschatology in action.  There have been many Antipopes (from the Middle French antipape, from the Medieval Latin antipāpa) although just how many isn't clear and they came and went often as part of the cut and thrust of the Church’s ever-shifting alliances and low skulduggery.  While some of the disputes were over theological or doctrinal differences, sometimes they were about little more than whose turn it was.

The Reverend Dr Ian Paisley, European Parliament, Strasbourg, France, 11 October 1988.

For centuries, Antichrist was a label often used, Nero, Caligula and the prophet Muhammad all victims, sometimes with some frequency and the epithet was often exchanged in the squabbles between Rome and Constantinople.  In the modern, mostly secular West, while the Antichrist has vanished from the consciousness of even most Christians, in the pockets of religiosity which the general godlessness has probably afforced, Antichrists appear to have multiplied.  Like “fascist” in political discourse, “Antichrist” has become a trigger word, a general category where disapprobation is not enough and there’s the need to demonise though even the hunter can be captured by the game.  In October 1988, Pope John Paul II (Karol Wojtyła 1920–2005; pope 1978-2005), who had often warned of the Antichrist waving his antigospel, was interrupted during a speech to the European Parliament by the Reverend Dr Ian Paisley (1926–2014; leader of the Democratic Unionist Party (DUP) 1971-2008 & First Minister of Northern Ireland 2007-2008), who loudly denounced him as ''the Antichrist.''  Standing and holding a large red placard displaying his message, Dr Paisley shouted out ''I renounce you as the Antichrist!''.  He was soon ejected, his holiness seemingly unperturbed.  The late Reverend had a long history of antipathy to popery in general and the “Bachelor bishop of Rome” in particular and, when later interviewed, told the press ''I don't believe he is infallible. He doesn't have the power to turn wine into the blood of Christ.''

Coming usually from the evangelical right, south of the Mason-Dixon Line, it seems to play well and it’s been aimed at the usual suspects including Barack Obama, Osama bin Laden, Saddam Hussein, Adolf Hitler, Joseph Stalin, Bill Gates, George Soros, at least two ayatollahs and, perhaps most plausibly, crooked Hillary Clinton.  Interestingly, although never denying practicing witchcraft or voodoo, crooked Hillary Clinton did feel the need to deny being the Antichrist.  In What Happened (Simon & Schuster, 2017, 512 pp ISBN: 978-1-5011-7556-5), a work of a few dozen pages somehow padded out to over five-hundred using the “how to write an Amazon best-seller” template, a recounting of the denial is there and the exchange does have a rare ring of truth.  It’s a shame that didn’t extend to the rest of the book; claimed to be a review of the 2016 presidential election, it might have been an interesting apologia rather than a two-inch thick wad of blame-shifting.

Never despair.  In the Christian tradition, the Antichrist will finally be defeated by the armies of God under the leadership of Christ with the Kingdom of God on earth or in heaven to follow.  Good finally will prevail over evil.