History

Third and last part of an article discussing Imperia, the large concrete statue of a semi-fictional medieval sex worker.  Part 1 is here and Part 2 is here.

A Clandestine Erection

Imperia went up in April 1993, and I won’t even try to explain the insane backstory. 

Short version: some people in Constance wanted a cool statue to add luster to the waterfront.  Most of them were thinking of something like a Statue of Liberty.  A minority, however, had a more subversive idea.  And those guys picked Peter Lenk, a sculptor with a reputation.  But when the City Council of this fairly conservative small German city saw the plans… you can probably guess how that went over.  There was, let us say, some pushback.

But Lenk and his allies went ahead and put up Imperia anyway.  The statue was prefabricated and shipped to the harbor in pieces.  Most of the construction happened in a single night, between midnight and dawn. 

So Constance woke up to Imperia, and… honestly, it wasn’t love at first sight.  “Bemusement” was one common reaction.  “Disgust” and “outrage” were up there too.  

Part of it was, of course, that she’s a gigantic sex worker.  Another part is that she was satirizing something that happened almost six hundred years previous, which even in Germany is not exactly front page news.  And of course, there were her let’s say attributes,


[there are a lot of photos of her from this angle for some reason]

plus the fact that she was holding a naked Pope in one hand.  Constance is a pretty Catholic town, and the whole “naked Pope” thing didn’t really go over well.

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Some Americans have been talking about our shared European culture lately!  As CT’s resident American-in-Europe, I feel I must respond.  So, here’s a European culture story.  (This is Part 2,  You can find Part 1 here.)

Okay, so Imperia!  Big concrete statue on the shore of Lake Constance.  Medieval sex worker.  9 meters tall, weighs 18 tons, rotates once every four minutes.  Here she is again:

Let’s look at some details.

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Just north of the Alps, on the border between Germany and Switzerland, lies beautiful Lake Constance. And on the northwest shore of the lake is the lovely small city of Constance, Germany.

Constance is well worth a visit. A lot of German cities have rather bland or unattractive centers, thanks to the American and British air forces. But Constance escaped these attentions entirely, because the Allies didn’t want to risk any bombs landing in neutral Switzerland. So Constance has an unusually intact Old Town with lots of interesting old buildings, some going right back to medieval times.

Constance also has this:



A nine meter tall, 18 ton statue of a medieval sex worker.  She’s down at the harbor, on the lake.  She rotates once every four minutes.  Her name is Imperia.

You may reasonably ask, what?  And part of the answer is, she’s memorializing the Council of Constance, the great political-religious council that happened here 600-some years ago, from 1414 to 1417.  And you may ask again, what?

I’ll try to explain.  
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Now this Seth… did leave children behind him who imitated his virtues…. They also were the inventors of that peculiar sort of wisdom which is concerned with the heavenly bodies, and their order.

And that their inventions might not be lost before they were sufficiently known, upon Adam’s prediction that the world was to be destroyed at one time by the force of fire, and at another time by the violence and quantity of water, they made two pillars; the one of brick, the other of stone: they inscribed their discoveries on them both, that in case the pillar of brick should be destroyed by the flood, the pillar of stone might remain, and exhibit those discoveries to mankind; and also inform them that there was another pillar of brick erected by them. Now this remains in the land of Siriad to this day.

— Antiquities of the Jews, Flavius Josephus, Book 1, Chapter 2, 68-71

So first, a brief digression on Flavius Josephus. 

The Turncoat

Ah, Flavius Josephus.  Born Joseph ben Matthias, a Jew in Judea, he was a general during the Jewish Revolt against the Romans.  But then he switched sides and joined the Romans.  He then caught the attention of the Roman general with a flattering prophecy that the general would one day become Emperor.  (Which eventually happened.  Emperor Vespasian, 69-79 AD.) 


[this guy]

So Josephus became part of the Imperial staff.  He changed his name — “Flavius” was the family name of the new Emperor — and led efforts to get other Jews to switch sides.  (Mostly unsuccessful efforts.  Like, when he approached the walls of besieged Jerusalem, his attempts at persuasion were met with “howls of execration or derision, and sometimes showers of stones.”)  After the war was over, with several hundred thousand dead and Judea in ruins, Josephus ditched his Jewish wife and children, followed the new Emperor back to Rome, and wrote a best-selling history.   His Jewish War lays great emphasis on the wisdom, strategic brilliance, and noble character of the new Emperor; the invincible might, glory, and greatness of Rome; and Josephus’ own cleverness and correct choices(1).  While Judea was crushed under the Roman yoke, Josephus became wealthy and influential, picked up a trophy wife and a villa, and eventually retired to a life of ease.

(1) To be fair, he may have solved the first Josephus Problem.  It’s a  rare case where mathematical insight was actually life-saving!  Well, life-saving for Josephus anyway.

It might be possible to view Josephus as a pragmatic survivor who just joined the winning side.  But if you actually read his memoirs, Josephus’ character comes across pretty clearly, and he’s just so immensely pleased with himself. 

Anyway:

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Having watched the film, I thought I’d get Robert Linhart’s book off the shelf and finally read it. I think I bought it in Oxford in the early 80s. To remind you, it depicts Linhart’s experience as a Maoist cadre who has chosen to get a job in a Citroen factory in Paris in order to foment “resistance”. There’s an English translation, apparently, called The Assembly-Line, long out of print.

One reason for my hesitance in reading, perhaps, is that I have quite a low opinion of Maoists, particularly Western ones, and I’m sure that Linhart had at the time all kinds of dubious opinions about the Moscow Trials or the Cultural Revolution, but there’s really none of that in the book where he comes across as a fairly generic far-leftist. Instead there’s a fascinating description by someone with real literaray talent of the human reality of mass production as it was in the 1960s and probably still is somewhere other than Europe. It aslo gives an account of the ethno-sociology of the workforce which was “multicultural” long before the rest of society meaningfully was. Possibly the best book ever written by a Maoist then.

When Linhart enters the factory it is very different to how he imagined it would be, which was an assembly line shifting in short bursts as workers performed their tasks. Instead, the line moves continuously with workers running to catch up trying do their jobs quickly so they can get ahead of the game and sneak a quick cigarette or taking too long and getting tangled up with the next section. A manager puts him in the hands of a spot welder, who makes his movements with speed, precision and grace. But when that same Arab worker hands over to Linhart the novice makes a complete mess, molten solder all over the place, and he’s a danger to others and himself with his blowtorch. In a break they get chatting and he discovers that his “trainer” is graded as an unskilled worker (despite showing consummate skill) whereas he, Linhart, has been taken on at a skilled grade. But it soon becomes clear that the assignment of workers to grades has nothing to do with the skills those grades nominally represent: blacks are at the lowest unskilled level, Arabs at the higher unskilled ones, Spanish and Portuguese at the lowest tier of “skilled” and white French people like himself a notch above that, even if they can’t actually do anything. Who says there’s no such thing as “white privilege”?

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A while back I wrote a series of posts about the 1998-9 Kosovo conflict.  If you’re interested, here they are:  Prelude to War,  The Serbian Ascendancy, Things Fall Apart, And So To War.  This post continues that story up to the unsuccessful Rambouillet peace conference of February-March 1999.

So by early 1999, the Serbian province of Kosovo was the scene of an ugly guerrilla war.  Civilian casualties were mounting rapidly.  There were bombings and curfews and disappearances.  Over 100,000 people were already refugees, and the situation was clearly going to get worse and not better. 

There was a concerted effort to solve the problem by holding a peace conference in the spring of 1999. This was the Rambouillet Conference, and its goal was to produce a peace agreement between Serbia and the Kosovo Albanians. It failed, leading directly and immediately to the Kosovo War.

Does an unsuccessful peace conference from the previous century hold any lessons?  Or is this purely of academic interest?  

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A few weeks ago the historian Perry Anderson published an essay “Regime Change in the West?” in the London Review of Books. Like many of Anderson’s essays this is a wide-ranging splurge full of bon mots and *apercus” delivered from some quasi-Olympian height. My attention was caught, though, by the following couple of sentences which both expressed a widely-held belief, even a cliché, but one which I knew to be false despite the lazy “of course” which Anderson interjects:

Historically too, of course, the US is an immigrant society, as no European country has ever been [emphasis added]. That means there is a tradition of selective welcome and solidarity for newcomers that doesn’t exist at anything like the same emotional pitch in Europe.

The reason I knew this to be false is that, unlike Anderson, I had taken the trouble in my own (non-historical) work on immigration to read the work of France’s foremost historian of the phenomenon, Gérard Noiriel in his now-classic work, Le creuset francais: histoire de l’immigration (XIXe-XXe siècle) (Seuil, 1988). In his opening chapter “The dismissal of memory”, Noiriel addresses both the facts and the myth, pointing out that while in the US immigration is understood as an “internal” part of the constitutive history of the nation, in France it has been treated as something episodic and external. But when you look at the facts, immigration has played as much of a role, and perhaps more, in French society as American.

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Political philosophers are criticised for their idealism, but when it comes to immigration they try to be ‘realistic’. Their aspiration to ‘realism’ often leads to nationalism (which I have analysed elsewhere as an implicit but heavy bias), but I still don’t understand why they aspire to realism on this issue. Philosophers have neither voters to attract, like the politicians, nor believers to bring to church, like the Popes.

Why are Popes far more progressive than philosophers on the issue of migration?
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Here are two groups of Western philosophers. We’ll call them Group A and Group B. Here’s Group A:

Plato, Epicurus, Plotinus, Aquinas, Duns Scotus, Francis Bacon, Hobbes, Locke, Spinoza, Newton, Leibniz, David Hume, Herbert Spencer, John Stuart Mill, Schopenhauer, Kant, Kierkegaard, Nietzsche, Wittgenstein, Jean-Paul Sartre, Kurt Gödel, Karl Popper, Jeremy Bentham, Alan Turing, Saul Kripke.

And here’s Group B:

Aristotle, Socrates, Descartes, Bishop George Berkeley, Rousseau, Heidegger, Hegel, Marx, Frege, Bertrand Russell, John Dewey, Albert Camus, Frantz Fanon, John Rawls, Willard Quine.

Okay, so: what distinguishes these two groups?

Answer under the cut, but… stare at those two lists. Take a moment; give it a try. Do you see it?

Hints: It’s something pretty straightforward. Frege is an edge case. And while Rousseau is formally part of Group B, he really belongs with Group A.

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“America is rock and roll.” — Alfred Howard

Did some of you find it hard to feel the love for President’s Day this year? Well, remember: the reason it exists is because we Americans, as a nation, couldn’t choose between Washington’s Birthday and Lincoln’s Birthday.

Washington is pretty great, but I’m a Lincoln guy myself. You probably know this photo:




As various people have pointed out, this particular picture was photoshopped.  A real ’62 Strat would have a maple fretboard and a single ply pick board.  Also, it’s absolutely not true that Keith Richards gave Lincoln this guitar– Richards was always a Telecaster guy, and anyway he was just a little kid back then.

That said, it’s worth taking a moment to contemplate Lincoln’s musical career.

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I’ve posted a few times over the years about a trip I made with my partner to Leipzig in East Germany back in 1984, and I confess that the now-defunct country retains a kind of fascination for me. My rather banal judgement then and now is that the country, though marked by annoying shortages and inefficiencies, had a standard of living sufficient to give people an acceptable life in material terms, but that its lack of freedom, political repression, retention of its population by coercion were all unacceptable. I recently revisited an exchange I had with Tyler Cowen, 17 years ago, and I still think I was basically right and find it ironic that it was me, the leftist, championing freedom against the “libertarian” fixated on living standards.

I’ve just read Katja Hoyer’s wonderful Beyond the Wall: East Germany 1949-1990, which I would recommend to just about anyone. She traces the DDR from its origins to the fall of the Berlin Wall. The people who initially led the country were, of course, communists. But Hoyer reminds us that they were communists of a particular kind: the exiles who were left after Stalin had murdered most of them (he killed more of the German communist leadership than Hitler did). As such, they were cautious and conformist to a fault, and unlikely to strike out independently. They were also leading a ruined society, occupied by Soviet troops, with few natural resources and where, in contrast to the West, the victorious occupying power indulged in reparatory plunder rather than development aid. It was also a society initially seen as provisional, pending unification, and Hoyer argues convicingly that Stalin’s offer of a neutral unified Germany in 1952 as a means of preventing a NATO-aligned West Germany was sincere (though unlikely to succeed).
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Part 4 and (for now) last of this series. Earlier installments can be found here.

So, by early 1999 various attempts to resolve the Kosovo situation had failed. In autumn 1998 the Americans had sent Richard Holbrooke as a special envoy to Belgrade. Holbrooke negotiated a deal that looked good on paper, with a ceasefire, partial Serb withdrawal, international observers, and negotiations leading to eventual elections. However, in practice the KLA ignored the deal – they hadn’t been consulted, after all – and the Serbs quickly began to foot-drag and renege. So, by January 1999, armed intervention was under serious discussion.

One theory of the conflict deserves mention here. This is the idea that US President Bill Clinton provoked the bombing campaign in order to distract public attention away from the Monica Lewinsky scandal and his subsequent impeachment. This idea was widely discussed at the time, usually referencing the 1997 movie Wag the Dog, in which a US Presidential administration concocts a war in Albania to distract from the President’s sexual misconduct.
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Part 3 of a series on the Kosovo War.  Part 1 is here and Part 2 is here.

So, Adem Jashari. Very short version: he was a guerrilla leader / local strong man.  He lived in a region of Kosovo that was already challenging for the Serb authorities — rural, rugged terrain, and 100% ethnic Albanian. And in March 1998, the Serbs decided to make an example of him. They came into his village with hundreds of troops, surrounded his house, and just shot everyone in sight. They ended up killing about 60 people: Jasheri, almost his entire extended family, some of his guerrilla comrades, and some unlucky souls who just happened to be there.

This was intended as a show of force. It backfired spectacularly. Kosovar Albanian society was socially conservative and extremely family-oriented, so the idea of wiping out an entire extended family was utterly horrific. Also, say what you like about Jasheri, he and his group went out heroically — surrounded, guns blazing, fighting to the last. So Jasheri became an instant martyr, and his death became the incident that flipped Kosovar Albanian society from unhappy and restive to full-blown rebellion. The Serbs didn’t realize it at the time, but they’d tossed a lit match right into a pool of gasoline.
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Okay, so we’ve talked about Bosnia and how that set things up for the Kosovo War. Now, what happened in Kosovo that made NATO want to get involved there?

Back when Serbia was part of Yugoslavia, Kosovo was a “special autonomous province” of Serbia. This meant that it had limited self-rule and its own regional legislature. Since the majority of Kosovars were ethnic Albanians, this means that under Communist Yugoslavia, Kosovo’s politics and its economy came to be dominated by Albanians. The Serbs — who were a majority in Serbia as a whole, but a minority in Kosovo — came to resent this. [click to continue…]