Tiger

Tiger (pronounced tahy-ger)

(1) A large, carnivorous, tawny-colored and black-striped feline, Panthera tigris, of Asia, ranging in several subspecies from India and the Malay Peninsula to Siberia.

(2) In non-technical use, the cougar, jaguar, thylacine, or other animal resembling the tiger (in wide use in southern Africa of leopards).

(3) A person of some fierceness, noted for courage or a ferocious, bloodthirsty and audacious person.

(4) In heraldry, a representation of a large mythological cat, used on a coat of arms, often with the spelling tyger or tygre (to distinguish the mythological beast from the natural tiger (also blazoned Bengal tiger), also used in heraldry).

(5) A pneumatic box or pan used in refining sugar.

(6) Any of several strong, voracious fishes, as a sand shark.

(7) Any of numerous animals with stripes similar to a tiger's.

(8) A servant in livery who rides with his master or mistress, especially a page or groom (archaic).

(9) In entomology & historic aviation, a clipping of tiger moth (in the family Arctiidae), tiger beetle or tiger butterfly (in tribe Danaini, especially subtribe Danaina).

(10) Any of the three Australian species of black-and-yellow striped dragonflies of the genus Ictinogomphus.

(11) In US, slang, someone noted for their athleticism or endurance during sexual intercourse.

(12) In southern African slang, a ten-rand note.

(13) As TIGR (pronounced as for “tiger”), the abbreviation for Treasury Investment Growth Receipts: a bond denominated in dollars and linked to US treasury bonds, the yield on which is taxed in the UK as income when it is cashed or redeemed.

Pre 1000: From the Middle English tygre & tigre, from the Old English tīgras (plural) and the Anglo-Norman tigre (plural), from the Latin tīgris, from the Ancient Greek τίγρις (tígris), from an Iranian source akin to the Old Persian tigra- (sharp, pointed) and related to the Avestan tighri & tigri (arrow) and tiγra (pointed), the reference being to the big cats “springing” on to their prey but the Oxford English Dictionary (OED) notes no application of either word (or any derivative) to the tiger is known in Zend.  It was used of “tiger-like” people since the early sixteenth century and that could be complementary or pejorative although the female form (tigress) seems only to have been used in zoology since the 1610s and was never applied to women.  The tiger's-eye (yellowish-brown quartz) was first documented in 1886.  The word “liger”, like the creature it described, was a forced mating of lion and tiger.  As a modifier, tiger is widely used including the forms: American tiger, Amur tiger, Asian Tiger, Mexican tiger, Siberian tiger, tiger barb, tiger beetle, tiger bench, tiger-lily, tiger lily, tiger's eye, tiger shark & tiger's milk.  A female tiger is a tigeress.  The alternative spellings tigre & tyger are both obsolete.  Tiger & tigerishness are nouns, tigerly, tigerish & tigerlike are adjectives and tigerishly is an adverb; the noun plural is tigers.

Lindsay Lohan (b 1986) atop tiger in Kult Magazine (Italy), January 2012, photograph by Vijat Mohindra (b 1985), makeup by Joyce Bonelli (b 1981).

In idiomatic use, a country said to have a “tiger economy” (rapid and sustained economic growth), especially if disproportionate to population or other conventional measures.  “Tiger parent” (and especially “tiger mother”) refers to a strict parenting style demanding academic excellence and obedience from children; it’s associated especially with East Asian societies.  The “tiger cheer” dates from 1845 and originated in Princeton University, based on the institution’s mascot and involved the cheerleaders calling out "Tiger" at the end of a cheer accompanied by a jump or outstretched arms.  Beyond Princeton, a “tiger cheer” is any “shriek or howl at the end of a cheer”.  The phrase "paper tiger" was apparently first used by comrade Chairman Mao Zedong (1893–1976; chairman of the Chinese Communist Party (CCP) 1949-1976) when discussing his thoughts about the imperialist powers.  A calque of the Chinese 紙老虎／纸老虎 (zhǐlǎohǔ), it referred to an ostensibly fierce or powerful person, country or organisation without the ability to back up their words; imposing but ineffectual.  Phrases in the same vein include "sheep in wolf's clothing" and "a bark worse than their bite".  To be said to “have a tiger by the tail” suggests one has found one’s self in a situation (1) that has turned out to be much more difficult to control than one had expected and (2) difficult to extricate one’s self from, the idea being that while holding the tiger’s tail, things are not good but if one lets go, things will likely become much worse.

Men in frock coats: The “Big Four” at the Paris Peace Conference (1919-1920), outside the Foreign Ministry headquarters, Quai d'Orsay, Paris.  Left to right: David Lloyd George (1863–1945; UK prime-minister 1916-1922), Vittorio Orlando (1860–1952; Italian prime minister 1917-1919), Georges Clemenceau (1841–1929; French prime minister 1906-1909 & 1917-1920) and Woodrow Wilson (1856–1924; US president 1913-1921).

Georges Clemenceau (1841–1929; Prime Minister of France 1906-1909 & 1917-1920) was a physician who turned to politics via journalism, a not unfamiliar trajectory for many; at a time of national crisis, he undertook his second term as premier, providing the country’s politics with the stiffness needed to endure what was by then World War I (1914-1918); he was nick-named le tigre (the tiger) in honor of his ferociously combative political demeanour.  In February 1919, while travelling from his apartment a meeting associated with the Paris Peace Conference (1919-1920), he was shot several times, his assailant an anarchist carpenter & joiner, Émile Cottin (1896-1937) and two decades on, another leader would learn carpenters can be assassins.  Le tigre was lucky, the bullets missing his vital organs although one which passed through the ribcage ending up lodged close to his heart; too close to that vital organ to risk surgery, there it remained until his death (from unrelated causes) ten years later.  Cottin’s death sentence was later commuted to a ten year sentence and he would die in battle, serving with the anarchist Durruti Column during the early days of the Spanish Civil War.  The Tiger’s response to his survival was to observe: “We have just won the most terrible war in history, yet here is a Frenchman who misses his target six out of seven times at point-blank range.  Of course this fellow must be punished for the careless use of a dangerous weapon and for poor marksmanship. I suggest that he be locked up for eight years, with intensive training in a shooting gallery.”  In the circumstances, deploring the state of French marksmanship displayed a certain sangfroid.

The Sunbeam Tigers

Sunbeam Tiger, LSR run, Southport Beach, March 1926.

There have been three Sunbeam Tigers, the first illustrious, the second fondly remembered and the last so anti-climatic it’s all but forgotten.  The first was a dedicated racing car, built between 1923-1925 and, those being times when there was less specialization, it was used both in circuit racing and, most famously, in setting the world Land Speed Record (LSR).  Although aerodynamic by the standards of the time (the techniques of streamlining learned in World War I (1914-1918) military aviation applied), there was little innovation in the platform except for the engine, the nature of which ensured the Tiger’s place in history.  For Grand Prix events conducted for cars with a maximum displacement of 2.0 litres (122 cubic inches), Sunbeam had earlier built a two litre straight-six, the limitations imposed by the relatively small size being offset by the use of the then still novel double overhead camshafts (DOHC) which allowed both more efficient combustion chambers and much higher engine speeds, thereby increasing power.  It was a robust, reliable power-plant and when contemplating an attempt on the LSR, instead of developing anything new or using the then popular expedient of installing a big & powerful but heavy and low-revving aero engine, the engineers paired two of the blocks and heads on a single crankcase, creating a 75° 3,976 cm³ (243 cubic inch) V12.  When supercharged, power outputs as high as 312 hp (233 kW) were registered.

Sunbeam Tiger in 1990.

Deteriorating weather conditions meant there wasn’t time even to paint the bodywork before the Tiger was rushed to the banked circuit at Brooklands for testing in September 1925 where performance exceeded expectations.  Over the winter, further refinements were made including a coat of most un-British bright red paint and it was in this color (and thus nick-named “Ladybird”) it was in March 1926 taken to the flat, hard sands of Southport Beach where duly it raised the LSR mark to 152.33 mph (245.15 km/h).  That was broken within a year but the Tiger still holds the record as the smallest displacement ICE (internal combustion engine) ever to hold the LSR and a century on, it’s a distinction likely to be retained forever.  After the run on the beach, it returned to the circuits.  A sister car was built and named Tigress; fitted with one of the big Napier Lion W12 aero engines, it still competes in historic competition but the Tiger is now a museum piece although, after 65 years, it did have a final fling when in 1990 it made one last run and this time set a mark of 159 mph (256 km/h).

Sunbeam Alpine (1959-1668) with the original tail fins: 1961 (left) and 1963 (right).  When in late 1958 the design was approved by the Rootes board, tail fins were fashionable but the moment passed and with the release of the Series IV in 1964, they were pruned.

Although successful in competition and the manufacturer of some much admired road cars, financial stability for Sunbeam was marginal for most of the 1920s and the Great Depression of the early 1930s proved its nemesis, the bankrupt company in 1934 purchased by the Rootes Group which was attracted by Sunbeam’s production facilities and their well-regarded line of HD (heavy duty) chassis for bus & truck operators.  Rootes over the years used the Sunbeam name in a desultory way, the vehicles little more than “badge engineered” versions of their Hillman, Singer, Humber & Talbot lines but one aberration was the Sunbeam Alpine, a small sports car (1959-1968).  Rootes had used the Alpine name before, adopted to take advantage of the success enjoyed in the 1953 Alpine Rally but the new roadster was very different.  Although the platform was taken (unpromisingly) from a small van (noted for its robustness and reliability but little else) with the rest of the structure a mash up of components from the Rootes parts bin, as a package it worked very well and the body was modern and attractive, owing more to small Italian sports cars than the often rather agricultural British competition from MG and Triumph.  The rakish fins drew the eye (not always uncritically) but they were very much of their time, taller even than those on the Daimler SP250 released the same year.  The Alpine was also pleasingly civilized with a heater which actually worked, a soft-top which didn’t leak (at least not as often or to the same extent as some others), external door handles and wind-up windows, none of those attributes guaranteed to exist on most of the local competition.  It was also commendably quiet, conversations possible and the radio able to be listened to even at cruising speed, then something then novel in little British roadsters.

1966 Sunbeam Tiger Mark IA.

With an engine capacity initially of 1.5 litres (91 cubic inch), the Alpine was never fast although that was hardly the point and Rootes advertising included some for what was then known as the “ladies market”.  Slightly larger engines would improve things but the performance deficit was better addressed when in 1964, a version of the Alpine called the Tiger was released, this time with Ford’s then new 260 cubic inch (4.2 litre) “thinwall” Windsor V8, about to become well known from its use in both the Ford Mustang and Shelby’s Cobra, the latter based on a much-modified AC Ace.  The Windsor V8 was called a “thinwall” because genuinely it was small and light (by V8 standards) but even so it only just fitted in the Alpine’s engine bay and so tight was the fit a small hatch was installed in the firewall (under the dashboard) so a hand could reach in to change one otherwise inaccessible spark plug.  That notwithstanding, the package worked and all those who wrote test reports seemed to enjoy the Tiger, noting the effortless performance, fine brakes and (within limits) predictable handling, all in something conveniently sized.  However, even in those more tolerant times, more than one journalist observed that although the Ford V8 used was in the mildest state of tune Ford offered (the ones Carroll Shelby (1923–2012) put in the Cobra producing over 100-odd HP (75 kW) more), it was clear the classis was close to the limit of what could be deemed sensible for road use.

Despite that, in the mid 1960s there was in the US quite an appetite for cars not wholly sensible for street use and late in 1966, a revised version was released, this time with a 289 cubic inch (4.7 litre) Windsor V8 and although there had been some attention to the underpinnings, it was now obvious that while still in the low-power state Ford used in station wagons and such, the 289's increased output exceeded the capability of the chassis.  For the journalists of course, that was highly entertaining and some were prepared to forgive, one cautioning only that the Tiger:

“…doesn’t take kindly to being flung around.  It’s a car with dignity as asks to be driven that way.  That doesn’t mean slowly, necessarily, but that there’s sufficient power on tap to embarrass the incautious.  But if you treat it right, respecting it for what it is, the Tiger can offer driving pleasure of a very high order.”

In the era, there were other over-powered machines which could behave worse and those able to read between the lines would know what they were getting but there may have been some who were surprised and tellingly, the Tigers were never advertised to the “ladies market” although one pink Tiger was in 1965 given as the traditional pink prize to Playboy’s PotY (Playmate of the Year).  Presumably she enjoyed it and, now painted "resale" red, the car still exists.

Jo Collins (b 1945), 1965 PotY with her 1965 Sunbeam Tiger Mark I.  All Tigers received the pruned fins, the once raked elliptical taillights assuming a vertical aspect.

The US was a receptive market for the little hot rod and one featured in the Get Smart TV series, although it’s said for technical reasons (the V8 version not having space in the engine compartment for some of the props), a re-badged Alpine was used for some scenes, the same swap effected for the 2008 film adaptation, a V8 exhaust burble dubbed where appropriate, a trick not uncommon in film-making.  Seeking a greater presence in Europe, Chrysler had first taken a stake in the Rootes Group in 1964 and assumed full control in 1967.  Although the Tiger was a low-volume line, it was profitable and Chrysler's original intention had been to to continue production of the Tiger (by 1967 powered by the 289) but with Chrysler’s 273 cubic inch (4.4 litre) LA V8 substituted.  Unfortunately, while 4.7 Ford litres filled it to the brim, 4.4 Chrysler litres overflowed; the Windsor truly was compact.  Allowing it to remain in production until the stock of already purchased Ford engines had been exhausted, Chrysler instead changed the advertising from emphasizing the “…mighty Ford V8 power plant” to the vaguely ambiguous “…an American V-8 power train”.  Still a popular car in the collector community, so easily modified are the V8s that few survive in their original form and many have been fitted with larger Windsors, the 302 (4.9 litre) the most popular and some have persuaded even the tall-deck 351 (5.8) to fit though not without modifications.

Sunbeam Tigers: 1965 model with “Powered by Ford 260” badge (left), 1967 model with “Sunbeam V8” badge (centre) and 1965 French market model with “Alpine 260” badge (right).

It wasn’t unknown for the major US manufacturers to use components from competitors, something which happened usually either because of a technology deficit or to do with licencing.  However, they much preferred it if what was used was hidden from view (like a transmission) so Chrysler’s reticence about advertising what had (through M&A (mergers & acquisitions)) activity become one of their cars being fitted with Ford V8 was understandable.  Not only was the advertising material swiftly changed but so were the badges: “Powered by Ford 260” giving way to “Sunbeam V8” for the rest of the Tiger’s life.  Unrelated to that however was the curious case of Tigers sold in South Africa or some European markets where they were designated variously as “Alpine 260”, “Alpine 289” or “Alpine V8”.

On the silver screen.

Sunbeam Alpine 260 opposite Simca Aronde and behind Renault 16 in the Italian film Come rubare la corona d'Inghilterra (1967) by Sergio Grieco (1917–1982).  The title translates literally as “How to Steal the Crown of England” but in the English-speaking world it’s better known as Argoman the Fantastic Superman.  The film garnered mixed reviews.

The reason the “Tiger” name never made it to the largest European markets was because Panhard in France was then selling a Tigre and Messerschmitt in the FRG (Bundesrepublik Deutschland (Federal Republic of Germany; the old West Germany) 1949-1990), offered a Tiger.  Apparently on advice from Rootes’ French distributers (Société des Automobiles Simca), it was decided just to use the Alpine name and the car thus was advertised in France, Germany Austria & Switzerland variously as the “Alpine 260” or “Alpine V8”, the latter making marketing sense in countries not used to cubic inches as a measure although the imperial measure may have been used to emphasize the US connection, Detroit's V8s deservedly enjoying a reputation for smoothness, power and reliability.  However, in places such as Sweden and Monaco where there was no concern with violating trademark law, the “Tiger” name was used, as it was for vehicles ordered by US citizens for delivery in Europe.  Typically these were armed forces personnel able to buy through the military’s PX (Post Exchange) stores and they enjoyed the benefit at the end of their deployment of the car being shipped to the US at no cost.  Volumes into Europe were always low and the sketchy records (assembled by Tiger owners clubs) suggest as few as seven Mark II models were exported to Europe, three of which went to France and by then the operation known as "Rootes Motors Overseas Ltd" had for all purposes switched their advertising to “Sunbeam Alpine V8”.

On the silver screen, with back projection.

Cary Grant (1904–1986, left) with (pre-princess) Grace Kelly (1929–1982; Princess Consort of Monaco 1956-1982, right) behind the wheel of 1953 Mark I Sunbeam Alpine in To Catch a Thief (in 1955 there was an Alpine Mark III but no Mark II was released, “skipping numbers” something not uncommon in aircraft and software but rare in automobiles).  For cinematographers, among the advantages of “rear projection photography” was in driving scenes the driver wasn’t compelled to “keep their eyes on the road” however bad an example this may set for impressionable audiences.

When first pondering the name to be used in Europe, within Rootes there may anyway have been awareness of the French manufacturer Peugeot in 1964 forcing Porsche to rename its new 901 to 911 (something which worked out OK) on the basis of the argument they had an “exclusive right in France” to sell cars with three numeral designation in France when the middle digit was a “0” (zero).  That seems dubious given Mercedes-Benz had for years been selling 200s & 300s and was about to release the 600 but the EEC (European Economic Community) wasn’t at the time governed by the “give way to the Germans” rule which would come to characterize the EU (European Union) so defer Porsche did.  Rootes was thus wise to avoid the inevitable C&D (cease and desist letter) which may have been anticipated.

1965 PotY Jo Collins with her pink Tiger.

Stranger however is that Tigers sold in France were called “Alpine 260” despite (1) the French manufacturer Alpine having first sold cars there in 1954 and (2) the “260” being a reference to the V8 displacement in cubic inches (cid), imperial measurements not used in wholly metric France (where a 4.2 (litre) badge might have been expected).  That Sunbeam were able to use the Alpine name  was accounted for by the previous version of the Alpine having been first sold in France in 1953, thus pre-dating the French venture Automobiles Alpine, the corporate identity of which wasn’t established until 1955.  The original Sunbeam Alpine did enjoy some success in competition but is now remembered mostly for the association with the actor (and later princess) Grace Kelly who appeared in a sapphire blue one in Sir Alfred Hitchcock’s (1899–1980) To Catch a Thief (1955).  For students of technology, the long scene of her driving (appearing to be filmed through the windscreen) is an example of the “rear projection technique” used before CGI (computer-generated imagery) became possible.  While much of the film was shot on-location in Europe, the Alpine was shipped to the US for some of her driving scenes because only in Hollywood were there the big studios outfitted with the back-projection equipment able to emulate 360^o settings.

1965 French market Sunbeam Alpine 260 with after-market 14" Minilite wheels.

So the Alpine name apparently could be used, despite the existence since 1954 of the sports cars produced by Dieppe-based Automobiles Alpine, presumably on the basis of the corporation’s prior use.  Whether the decision to append an imperial “260” rather than a more localized 4.2 was the British adding insult to injury isn’t known.  While that may sound improbably petty, that’s a quality not absent either in international relations or commerce and not only were London and Paris then squabbling over whether the Anglo-French SST (supersonic transport) airliner should be called “Concorde” or the anglicized “Concord”, in 1963 Charles de Gaulle (1890-1970; President of France 1959-1969) had vetoed the UK’s application for membership of the EEC (European Economic Community, the Zollverein which (for better and worse) eveolved into the modern-day EU (European Union).  For that last diplomatic setback, the British may have had themselves to blame because when in 1940 they offered de Gaulle sanctuary in London after the fall of France, the Foreign Office allocated him offices on Waterloo Place and overlooking Trafalgar Square.  A sensitive soul, Le Président never forgot, nor forgave a slight.

Carroll Shelby, Sunbeam publicity shot, 1964.

Between April 1964 and August 3763 Mark I Tigers were built.  The 2706 Mark IA models which followed between August 1965 and February 1966 were based on the Alpine Series V which had a number of detail changes (most obviously the doors, hood (bonnet) and truck (boot) lid having sharper corners and a vinyl rather than metal top boot for the folding soft-top); while these now universally are listed as “Mark IAs”, that was never an official factory designation.  The first Mark IIs weren’t built until December 1966 with production lasting only until June the next year when Sunbeam’s stocks of Ford V8s was exhausted and just 536 (although 633 is oft-quoted) were made.  Although there were details differences between the Mark IA and Mark II, the fundamental change was the use of the 289 cubic inch (4.7 litre) engine and all but a few dozen were exported to the US.

Tigerish: Lindsay Lohan imagined in cara gata (cat face) by Shijing Peng.  

Carrol Shelby invoiced Rootes US$10,000 to develop the original Tiger prototype and had expected to gain the contract for production on the same basis as his arrangement with AC to produce the Cobra (ie he'd receive engineless cars into which he'd insert the V8s) but the process instead went the other way and Sunbeam imported the engines, contracting final assembly to Jensen.  Shelby instead received a small commission for each Tiger sold and appeared in some of the early marketing material.  He understood that despite (on paper) being superficially similar, the Tiger was a very different machine to the Cobra and, aimed at different markets, the two were really not competitors.  Amusingly, Shelby's US10,000 fee was paid in a "back-channel deal", the funds coming from Rootes' US advertising budget rather than the engineering department's allocation.  That slight of hand was necessary because it was known to all the company's conservative chairman, Lord Rootes (1894–1964), would never have approved such a project.  He changed his mind after test-driving the prototype and ordered immediate production, living long enough to see it enjoy success.      

1972 Hillman Avenger Tiger.  The Avenger is now remembered mostly for the distinctive  "boomerang (or hockey stick)" tail-lamps, later used by Mazda for the RX-5 (1975-1981).  It's not believed the rear spoiler was tested in a wind-tunnel.

While not quite the sublime to the ridiculous, the third and final Tiger certainly lacked the luster of its predecessors and was actually marketed under the Hillman and not the Sunbeam badge, the old Rootes group now owned by Chrysler.  Based on the Hillman Avenger (1970-1981), a competent if unexciting family car, the Avenger Tiger was initially a one-off built for motor shows (they used to be a thing) but such was the reaction a production run was arranged and, based on the Avenger GT, it was a genuine improvement, fitted with dual Weber carburetors on a high-compression cylinder head with larger valves and improved porting.  The power increase was welcome but wasn’t so dramatic as to demand any modification of the GT’s suspension beyond a slight stiffening of the springs.  On the road, the well-sorted RWD (rear wheel drive) dynamics meant it was good to drive and the performance was a notch above the competition in the same price point although Chrysler never devoted the resources to develop it into a machine which could have been competitive with Ford’s Escort in racing and rallying.  The first run of 200-odd early in 1972 were all in “sundance yellow” with a black stripe (and in case that was too subtle, a “Tiger” decal adorned the rear quarter panels) but red was added as an option when an additional batch of 400 was made to meet demand.

Sabre

Sabre (pronounced sey-ber)

(1) A stout single-edged cavalry sword, having a curved blade.

(2) A sword used in fencing, having a narrow V-shaped blade, a semicircular guard, and a slightly curved hand.

(3) In historic military slang, a cavalry soldier.

(4) To injure or kill with a sabre.

1670s: From the French sabre (heavy, curved sword), an alteration of sable (dating from the 1630s), from the 1630s German dialectal Sabel & Säbel, from the Middle High German sebel, probably from the perhaps from the fourteenth century Hungarian (Magyar) szabla (rendered laser as száblya) (saber, literally "tool to cut with" from szabni (to cut) and it’s thought the spread of the Hungarian word to neighboring languages occurred during the Ottoman wars in Europe of the fifteenth to seventeenth centuries.  The origin of the Hungarian word is mysterious.  It was long thought most likely from the South Slavic (the Serbo-Croatian сабља or the Common Slavic sablja) which would mean the ultimate source is Turkic but more recent scholarship suggests it may ultimately be from the Tungusic, via the Kipchak Turkic selebe, with later metathesis (the letters transposing l-b to b-l) and apocope changed to seble, which would have changed its vocalization in Hungarian to the recorded sabla (perhaps under the influence of the Hungarian word szab- (to crop; cut (into shape).  It was cognate with the Danish sabel, the Russian са́бля (sáblja) and the Serbo-Croatian сабља.  The Balto-Slavic words (Russian sablya, Polish and Lithuanian šoblė) may have come via German, but the Italian sciabla is said to have been derived directly from Hungarian.  The US spelling since the late nineteenth century was saber but sabre is also often used by those who prefer the traditional spellings for archaic nouns (eg theatre is in learned use sometimes used to distinguish live high-culture performances from popular forms).  Sabre is a noun and verb and the (omninous sounding) sabring & sabred are verbs; the noun plural is sabres.

Sabrage is the opening of a bottle, traditionally champagne, by striking with a sabre, the annulus (the donut-shape ring of glass between the neck and cork) of the bottle, held at an angle of about 30^o, slicing off the bottle's neck.  The trick is said to be to ensure the bottle is as cold as possible and the practice is claimed to be safe, any shards of glass being propelled away under pressure. For those for whom a sabre might not conveniently fall to hand, another heavy-blade can be used, even a meat-cleaver.  The sabre-tooth tiger, dating from 1849, is but one of a species of saber toothed cats from the genus Smilodon, noted for the pair of elongated teeth in the upper jaw although “sabre-tooth tiger” is often incorrectly used to describe all of the type, correctly known as saber-tooth cats and them a subset of a number of extinct groups of predatory therapsids with the famous teeth.  Saber-toothed mammals roamed the planet for over forty-million years until driven to extinction, presumably by modern humans, towards the end last period of glacial expansion during the ice age, an epoch which, by one definition, remains on-going.

Although some sources maintain “saber-rattling” (ostentatious or threatening display of military power; implied threat of imminent military attack; militarism) is derived from certain interactions between civilian government and the military in South American in 1924, the phrase had been in the English newspapers as early as 1879, spreading across the Atlantic early in the next century.  However, even before “saber-rattling” emerged as such an enticingly belligerent semantic mélange, the elements were often in close proximity usually as “the rattling of sabres”, used to describe the clatter a sabre in its scabbard is wont to make as its wearer proceeds on foot or horseback.  The use dates from a time when in many a European city a sword-carrying soldier was not an uncommon sight and bother phrases are used to describe bellicose posturing but only “sabre rattling” is exclusive in this sense.  It’s the sound which matters rather than the particular bladed weapon; the phrase “mere sword rattling” is attested in a US publication in 1882 and, strictly speaking, the use of naval forces in a threatening manner should presumably be “cutlass rattling” but that never caught on.  The figurative use could presumably exist in just about any dispute but seems most documented when threatening legal proceedings, often in cases of alleged defamation.

The strong association of sabre rattling with events in Chile in 1924 has led some to suppose the phrase dates from this time and place; that’s not so but what happened in Santiago was one of the few occasions when the sabers were literally rattled.  It was a time of heightened political conflict between the government and one of the few laws which seemed likely to proceed was a pay-rise for the politicians.  This wasn’t received well by most of the population, including the army officers who had long be denied any increase in their salaries.  Accordingly, several dozen officers, mostly subalterns, attended the congressional session at which the politician’s pay was listed for discussion, sitting in the public gallery.  Among the politicians, their presence caused some disquiet and the president of the chamber, noting the air of quiet intimidation, ordered the public gallery cleared, as the discussion was to be secret.  As the officers departed, they rattled the scabbards (chapes) against the floor, interpreted as a threat of military intervention.  The fears were not unfounded and by September that year, a military Junta had been established to rule the country and not until 1932 would it relinquish power to a civilian government.

Sabre rattling and Mr Putin.

As a set-piece of sabre-rattling, the Kremlin’s deployment of around eight army divisions to the Ukraine border and six amphibious ships with a supporting flotilla to the Black Sea, is the loudest heard since the end of the Cold War yet it has the curiously nineteenth century feel of those old stand-offs between two colonial powers, squabbling over some patch of desert somewhere, building seemingly towards a war which never quite happened.  Perhaps the true state of tension was revealed by a statement a German military spokesperson: “We are ready to go”, the Luftwaffe remarked of their deployment of three Eurofighter aircraft.

Still, few know Mr Putin’s (Vladimir Putin, b 1952; leader of Russia as president or prime-minister since 1999) thoughts on how the crisis should be encouraged to unfold although the Western political establishment is making sure the possibilities are spelled out.  The US president has his motives for doing this as does the British prime-minister and, to be fair, there is some overlap and imaginative suggestions have included the trick the Nazis in 1939 used to trigger Fall Weiss (plan white), the invasion of Poland, Germany staging a fake “attack” by the Poles, complete with German “victims”, the corpses conveniently available from the nearby concentration camps.  Quite whether there are many well-informed politicians who actually believe Russian armored divisions will be unleashed across the Ukrainian border isn’t clear but the alacrity with which many have been beating a path to Mr Putin’s door (or screen), certainly suggests they've reacted well to a growing crisis, the Russian president, in a nice touch, conducting some of the meetings in Saint Petersburg's Mariinsky Palace, the last neoclassical Imperial pile built by the Tsars.  Thought pragmatic rather than romantic, conventional wisdom would suggest Mr Putin will be not much be attracted to a massed invasion, even one with a bit of pretext, but the rebel regions in the east are attractive building blocks for the construction of a land bridge to the already annexed Crimean peninsular and from there, it's not that far to Odesa and the tantalizing prospect of sealing off Ukraine from the Black Sea, a more with critical economic and strategic implications.  Political recognition would be a handy prelude and one likely to provoke only a manageable reaction, the West probably as enthusiastic about sanctions which might be self-harming as they were in 1935 when League of Nations tried to do something about Italy's invasion of Abyssinia and it may be when things settle down a bit and the sabre rattling subsides, the Kremlin's strategy will remain the same but the tactical emphasis will switch.  As thinkers of such diverse subtlety as the wickedly clever Talleyrand (Charles-Maurice de Talleyrand-Périgord, 1754–1838; French diplomat whose career lasted from Louis XVI to Louis-Philippe) and the slow-witted Joachim von Ribbentrop (1893–1946; Nazi foreign minister 1938-1945) understood, between some states there's always a war going on; sometimes with guns and bombs, sometimes by other means and there are more "other means" than once there were.  Still the concerns about an invasion (which presumably would be styled a "state of armed conflict" rather than a "war") are not unfounded and the recent success of the Russian military in the Crimea and Belarus are probably as encouraging as the subdued Western reaction to these adventures.  How "prompt, resolute and effective" would be the response to invasion by the Ukrainians is the subject of speculation in many capitals, the professional military opinion seemingly that if the pattern of battle is an old-style contest of artillery and armor (Battle of Kursk) then the advantage will lie with the attacker but if fought street by street (Battle of Stalingrad), with the defenders.

Advanced in technology have meant that most uses of the phrase “sabre rattling” are now figurative and even when used in the context of the threat of armed force, “sabre” is acting not literally but as a synecdoche for “military power”.  Other figurative use can be more remote still, including the threat of litigation.  Although her dabbling in cryptocurrency markets would later attract the interest of US regulators, it’s believed Lindsay Lohan's name has been mentioned only once during the hearings conducted by the US Senate’s Banking, Housing and Urban Affairs Committee and that was in October 2017.  During that hearing, Senator John Kennedy (b 1951; junior senator from Louisiana (Republican) since 2017), searching for a phrase to illustrate the inappropriateness of a US$7.25 million IRA (Internal Revenue Service) for identity verification services being awarded to a Equifax (a company which had just suffered a massive hack resulting in the release of sensitive data belonging to 145 million people), settled on it being akin to “giving Lindsay Lohan the keys to the mini-bar.”  Richard Smith (b circa 1961; chairman and chief executive officer of Equifax 2005-2017), after pausing to digest the analogy, replied to the senator: "I understand you point."

Quickly, Lindsay Lohan’s parents declared the comment an “inappropriate, slanderous and unwarranted” and indicated they were seeking legal advice, labelling the senator “unprofessional”.  Whether the pair were serious wasn’t clear but their legal sabre rattling was said by experts to be an “empty threat” because (1) the protection available under the first amendment (free speech) to the US Constitution, (2) the immunity enjoyed by senators during committee hearings and (3) Ms Lohan being a living adult of full mental capacity, her parents would not enjoy the legal standing to litigate on her behalf.  Ms Lohan didn’t comment on the matter and no legal proceedings were filed.  

Replica of 1796 British light cavalry saber with steel scabbard.

The saber gained fame as a cavalry sword, having a slightly curved blade with a sharp edge, ideal for slashing from horseback.  They were first employed in the early sixteenth century by the hussars, a crack cavalry formation from Hungary and so obvious was their efficiency in the charge or the melee they quickly were adopted by armies throughout Europe.  Union and Confederate cavalries carried sabers during the US Civil War (1861-1865) although, with the advent of heavy artillery and rapid-fire weapons (including the limited use of the 600 rounds per minute (rpm) Gatling gun, while still deadly, they were no longer often a decisive battlefield weapon.  The glamour however lingered and sabres remain part of many full-dress military uniforms worn on ceremonial occasions.

North American F-86 Sabre.

Built between 1948-1957, the North American F-86 Sabre was the first US, swept-wing, transonic jet fighter aircraft.  A revision of a wartime jet-fighter programme and much influenced by the German air-frames and technical material which fell into US hands at the end of World War II, the Sabre was first used in combat after being rushed to the Far East to counter the threat posed by the sudden appearance of Soviet-built MiG-15s (NATO reporting name: Fagot) in the skies.  The Sabre was outstanding success in the Korean War (1950-1953), credited with nearly eight-hundred confirmed kills for little more than a hundred losses and the pedigree attracted the interest of many militaries, the Sabre serving in more than two dozen air-forces, the last aircraft not retired from front-line service until 1997.  Capable beyond its original specification (it could attain supersonic speed in a shallow dive), it was upgraded throughout its production with modern radar and other avionics and there was even a naval version called the FJ-3M Fury, optimized for carrier operations.  One footnote the Sabre contributed to feminist history came in 18 May 1953 when Jacqueline Cochran (1906-1980) became the first woman to break the sound barrier, accomplished in a Canadair F-86E.  The combined Sabre and Fury production numbered nearly ten-thousand, including 112 built under licence by the Commonwealth Aircraft Corporation in Australia.  It was replaced by the F-100D Super Sabre.

The big Sabre

Napier Sabre H-24.

The Napier Sabre was a H-24 cylinder, liquid-cooled, aero engine, designed & developed by the British manufacturer Napier before, during and after World War II.  Although there were many teething problems, later versions evolved to become one of the most powerful piston aero-engines, rated at up to 2,400 horsepower (1,800 kW) while prototypes with advanced supercharger designs yielded in excess of 3,500 horsepower (2,600 kW).  The H-24 configuration (essentially two flat-12s one atop the other and geared together) was chosen because it offered the chance to increase the cylinder count without the excessive length a V-16 or V-24 would entail and, combined with the combination of a short stroke and big bore, permitted high engine speeds, thereby yielding more power without the need greatly to increase displacement and this was vindicated in early testing, the Napier Sabre in 1938 generating 2,400 horsepower (1,800 kW) with a 2,238 cubic inch (37 litre) capacity whereas the early Rolls-Royce Merlin V12 produced just over 1,000 horsepower (750 kW) from a 1,647 cubic inch (27 litre) displacement.

1945 Hawker Tempest powered by Napier Sabre H-24.

Problems however soon emerged, related mostly to quality control in the hurried development and manufacturing processes of wartime and inadequacies in the metallurgy used in the complex cylinder liners required by the sleeve valves.  Once these issues were solved, the Napier Sabre proved an outstanding power-plant, powering the Typhoon, the definitive British ground-attack fighter of the war.  Development continued even after the problems had been solved with the intention of using a redesigned supercharged to produce an engine which could power a high-altitude interceptor but the days of the big piston-engined fighters was drawing to a close as the jet age dawned.  Physics also intervened, whatever power a piston engine could generate, the need to use a spinning propeller for propulsion was a limiting factor in performance; above a certain speed, a propeller is simply torn off.

The little sabre

The short stature of Victor Emmanuel III (1869–1947; King of Italy 1900-1946) with: (left to right), Aimone of Savoy, King of Croatia (Rome, 1943), Albert I, King of the Belgians (France, 1915), his wife, Princess Elena of Montenegro (Rome 1937) & Adolf Hitler (1889-1945; Führer (leader) and German head of government 1933-1945 & head of state 1934-1945), observing navy manoeuvres (Gulf of Naples, 1938).  Note his sometimes DPRKesque hats.

Technically, Victor Emmanuel didn’t fit the definition of dwarfism which sets a threshold of adult height at 4 feet 10 inches (1.47 m), the king about 2 inches (50 mm) taller (or less short) and it’s thought the inbreeding not uncommon among European royalty might have been a factor, both his parents and grandparents being first cousins.  However, although not technically a dwarf, that didn’t stop his detractors in Italy’s fascist government calling him (behind his back) il nano (the dwarf), a habit soon picked up the Nazis as der Zwerg (the dwarf) (although Hermann Göring was said to have preferred der Pygmäe (the pygmy)).  In court circles he was know also, apparently affectionately as la piccola sciabola (the little sabre) a nickname actually literal in origin because the royal swordsmith had to forge a ceremonial sabre with an unusually short blade for the diminutive sovereign to wear with his many military uniforms.  His French-speaking Montenegrin wife stood a statuesque six feet (1.8 m) tall and always called him mon petit roi (my little king).  It was a long and happy marriage and genetically helpful too, his son and successor (who enjoyed only a brief reign) very much taller although his was to be a tortured existence.  Still, in his unhappiness he stood tall and that would have been appreciated by the late Duke of Edinburgh who initially approved of the marriage of Lady Diana Spencer (1960-1997) to the Prince of Wales (b 1948) on the basis that she “would breed some height into the line”.

From Sabre to Sabra

The early (left) and later (right) frontal styling of the Reliant Sabre.  The catfishesque look recalled the last of the Packards (1958) and the Daimler SP250 (1959-1964) but was revised in 1962, the update conceptually similar to that used by both MG (for the MGB GT (1965-1980)) and Triumph (for the Spitfire-based GT6 (1966-1973)) to render roadsters as hatchback coupés).  With the facelift, the bizarre and rather lethal looking dagmars were retired.

The origins of the Reliant Sabre (1961-1964) were typical of many English sports which emerged during the 1940s & 1960s as designers with alacrity began to exploit the possibilities offered by fibreglass, a material which had first been used at scale for larger structures during World War II (1939-1945).  The Sabre was thus the marriage of a chassis from one manufacture with the body of another; that’s how things sometimes were done at a time when there were few design rules or safety regulations with which to conform.  The era produced a few successes and many failures, the attraction being with only small amounts of capital, what would now be called “start-ups” could embark on small-volume production of cars which could be shown at motor shows alongside Aston Martins and Ferraris.

Reliant, a Stafford-based niche manufacturer since the 1930s, were contracted to handle the production and in the normal manner such things were then done, the parts-bins from many places (not all automotive) provided components from engines & transmission to door handles.  As a roadster, the Sabre was launched in 1961 and while on paper the specification was attractive, it had many of the crudities and foibles which afflicted many low-volume products and it was slightly more expensive than the more refined, better equipped MGA and later MGB.  Taking a traditional approach to the problem, Reliant in 1962 released the Sabre Six, fitted with the Ford Zephyr's 2.6 litre (156 cubic inch) straight-six in place of the 1.7 litre (104 cubic inch) four.  That resolved any performance deficit and the new car was as fast as anything in its price bracket but it remained in many ways crude and sales were always sluggish; of the 77 produced, all but two were coupés.

1963 Autocars Sabra Sport GT advertisement with corporate tsabár logo.  Note the woman driver, something then done quite selectively in advertising in the West.

So the Sabre was a failure but the chassis was fundamentally sound and it was used as the basis for the Scimitar coupé, a better developed vehicle with enough appeal to remain available until 1970 but it was as a shooting brake, released in 1968 the car found great success, available in a number of versions until 1986.  A quirkier second life for the Sabre however came in Israel where in 1961 it entered production as the Autocars Sabra (Autocars the the operation behind the Reliant version).  Sabra was from the Hebrew צַבָּר (tsabár) (prickly pear cactus), the word re-purposed in the Modern Hebrew created after the creation of the state to mean “a Jewish person born in Israel”.  In this context, sabra predated the establishment of the Jewish state (1948) and use was widespread during the British mandate for Palestine (1922-1948).  Etymologists tracing the history suggest it was used originally as a derogatory term, those from recent waves of immigration thought “rough and lacked social polish” but by the 1950s, it had become positive, the new settlers lauded as being like the prickly pear: “tough on the outside, sweet under the skin”.  For Autocars, the emphasis was on the “born in Israel” aspect, a bit of a leap considering the international origin of the design and much of the componentry but Autocars (founded in 1957), was at the time the country’s only manufacturer of passenger vehicles so it was something to emphasize.  The Sabra's association of the cactus with such people was intended to be suggest something positive and the tsabár (in the botanical sense) also provided the inspiration for the green on yellow corporate logo.