Miscellaneous Historical Musings

Latest

A Brief History of Medieval English Jewry: From Entry to Magna Carta.

The Jews first arrived in England in the 11th century at the behest of King William the Conqueror. The Jews had previously established themselves in his Norman possessions and the conqueror was eager to utilise their skill within his new kingdom. Almost immediately the newcomers status was more pronounced, not only were they associated with the conquering elite that had imposed their will upon the English, but their religious and cultural practices would set them apart as an internal ‘other’ within English society. From the beginning, English Jewry held a unique place within society in that they ‘belonged’ to the king. Occasionally they would be subject to the barony but this was extremely rare. Unlike their contemporaries on the continent English Jewry only specialised in banking and money lending and they showed none of the cultural enterprise that characterised the Jews of Narbonne. Given that their role in England was restricted to the financial sector and that they were identified with the conquering elite it is not surprising then that hostility towards the Jews was more pronounced.

During the successful reign of Henry II English Jewry flourished, and their presence in England more than doubled. In fact, at the beginning of Henry’s reign Jewish settlements have been identified with 14 English towns, by the end of his reign this was in the region of 30. The rapid expansion of English Jewry was down to their success in business. From Henry II’s reign onwards we have increasing amounts of evidence concerning Jewish business. What we can see from these records is a consortium of Jewish financiers spread across England. Chief among these Jewish financiers was Aaron of Lincoln (d1189) who at the time of his death was probably the richest man in the country in terms of liquid assets. If we examine his list of clients we can begin to paint a vivid picture of Jewish banking in England; among his debtors we can see Counts, Archbishops, bishops, abbots and towns, and like other financiers he often advanced money to the King. When Aaron died in 1189 his entire estate was taken by the crown and it was so vast that a special office within the Royal Exchequer called the Saccarium Aaronis was established to deal with the debtors; and although this office met with limited success over the next ten years they were able fill the royal coffers with enough riches to make the endeavour worthwhile.

The case of Aaron of Lincoln was unique. The exploitation of Jews by English monarchs was not, and over the twelfth century new ways were invented to take advantage of Jewish successes. Other than the normal method of taxation, special levies were created to exact funds from the Jews. Most often these took the form of tallages. The most excessive tallage during the reign of Henry II was also his last and amounted to the sum of £60,000 and was exacted by the King so that he could take the cross. This particular tallage was so extreme it amounted to a fourth of all Jewish assets. This form of taxation continued to be exacted from the Jews throughout the 13th century until their expulsion in 1185 during the reign of Edward I. The system of tallage contributed to anti-Jewish feeling in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries. Faced with large tallages, the Jewish financier would call in debts owed to him in order to meet the debt. Inevitably, this would increase hostile feelings towards them from Christian debtors.

The growth and expansion of Jewish business ended with the death of Henry II, and the reign of Richard I marks the beginning a long period of deterioration for English Jewry. The benefits to the crown after the death of Aaron of Lincoln would not have been lost on the Crown and certainly not lost to Hubert Walter who was instrumental in implementing the changes that would eventually become the exchequer of the Jews. The ordinance of the Jews of 1194 states:

‘All the debts, pledges, mortgages, lands, houses, rents, and possessions of the Jews shall be registered. The Jew who shall conceal any of these shall forfeit to the King his body and the thing concealed, and likewise all his possessions and chattels, neither shall it be lawful to the Jew to recover the thing concealed.’

‘Likewise six or seven places shall be provided in which they shall make all their contracts, and there shall be appointed two lawyers that are Christians and two lawyers that are Jews, and two legal registrars, and before them and the clerks of William of the Church of St. Mary’s and William of Chimilli, shall their contracts be made.’

The contracts recording the loan were written in the form of a bipartite chirograph: One part would be kept by the Jews while the other would be deposited in a communal chest, with 3 sealed locks, whose keys were to be kept by the Jews, the Christians, and royal commissioners. Ostensibly these changes were implemented to safe guard Jewish business. However the new clarity of Jewish practices enabled the crown greater knowledge which led towards greater exploitation of Jewish wealth.

The reign of King John was not successful, and after the fall of Normandy in 1204 the situation worsened both in terms of the Jewish experience and for England in general. His reign was marked with complications and financial difficulties the latter of which singled out Jewish financiers as ready targets. During his reign the earlier practice of exempting debtors from their obligation to Jews was intensified, and the system of tallage was continued with huge sums exacted, the most extreme being the tallage of 1210 which gained £40,000 for the crown. Again the continued tallages had a knock on effect, and the Jews incurred increasing hostility from their debtors who included, like Aaron of Lincolns debtors, the aristocracy. It is not surprising then that the issue of indebtedness to Jews should appear within Magna Carta. Clauses 10 and 11 state:

‘If anyone who has borrowed from the Jews any amount, great or small, dies before the debt is repaid, it shall not carry interest as long as the heir in under age, of whomsoever he holds; and if that debt fall into our hands, we will take nothing except the principal sum specified in the bond’

‘And if a man dies owing a debt to the Jews, his wife may have her dower and pay nothing of that debt; and if he leaves children under age, their needs shall be met in a manner in keeping with the holdings of the deceased; and the debt shall be paid out of the residue, saving the service due to the lords. Debts owing to other Jews shall be dealt with likewise.’

These clauses reflect accurately the general concern with Jewish money lending. Interestingly they do not absolve those concerned of the debt itself, and concentrate on the element concerned with usury. This certainly reflects the general feeling expressed by the Papacy, which stated at the contemporary Forth Lateran Council:

‘Wishing to see that Christians are not savagely oppressed by Jews in this matter, we ordain by this synodal decree that if Jews in future, on any pretext, extort oppressive and excessive interest from Christians, then they are to be removed from contact with Christians until they have made adequate satisfaction for the immoderate burden.’

Interestingly, the Magna Carta of 1215 is the only charter to contain clauses dealing with Jews. The Charters that followed in 1216, 1218, and 1225 have no clauses that deal specifically with English Jewry. However, laws continued to be set as the English Crown and the Council of Canterbury slowly implemented the statutes from the Forth Lateran Council, including the wearing of distinguishing clothes for Jews in 1218. In its eagerness to put into action the statutes of the Fourth Lateran Council, the Council of Canterbury of 1222 banned the interaction between Christians and Jews. This action would have disabled a crucial economic tool of the crown as it would have made Jewish money lending incredibly difficult. It is not surprising therefore that we see the English government under Henry III moving quickly to prohibit Christians from following that particular ruling of the Council.

Postscript:

For further information, you can find a wealth of information within the Henry III Fine Rolls Project, headed by Dr David Carpenter (KCL). Of particular interest will be two papers entitled, Crucifixion and Coversion : King Henry III and the Jews;  Part One and Part Two.

Thoughts on the London Riots

Yesterday evening my home town of Croydon erupted in violent riots. Shops were ransacked and looted, while businesses like House of Reeves were set on fire, effectively ending over 100 years of prosperity for the family run business. Among the buildings also damaged was my friends flat. A flat that he had lived in for many years, a flat he relied on for his current economic situation. What surprised me though was his optimistic attitude for the future and his general positivity. For those reasons I am glad that he is my friend.

From the very beginning of Monday 8th August, my eyes remained glued to the news coverage. First Hackney, where another friend of mine was confined to her flat, fear forcing her to remain indoors. Then news began to come in from other parts of London; Lewisham, Peckham, Croydon and Ealing. It seemed no London Borough was safe from the tsunami of teenage anger.

As I sat there watching I was suddenly recalled reading an account of the Children’s Crusade of 1212.

The Children’s crusade was unlike any of the previous military excursions to the Holy Land in the twelfth century. It was neither planned or encouraged by the reigning Pope, Innocent III. Traditionally, the Children’s Crusade was believed to be a popular movement made up of thousands of Children from German and French villages. However modern scholarship argues that the crusade was made up of groups of wandering poor. Some historiography suggests that there were two movements, that were combined by later chroniclers. however, as a popular movement of the common people the Children’s Crusade resembled the People’s Crusade that preceded the First Crusade. But there the similarities end.

The Children’s Crusade was sparked by an anger at the traditional form of crusade which they believed had resulted in failure and humiliating loss. If we consider the horrible failure of the Fourth Crusade and the taking of the Christian city of Byzantium it is perhaps easy to imagine why the members of the Children’s Crusade thought that weakness and humility would succeed where strength and humility had failed.

The Royal Chronicles of Cologne says;

…from all Germany and France with no encouragement or preaching but driven by unknown inspiration many thousands of children from six years old all the way to young adulthood abandoned the plows and wagons they drove, or the cattle they herded, or whatever they had a hand, and, though their unwilling parents, kinfolk, and friends tried to hold them back, suddenly ran one after another and undertook crusade.

There are some obvious differences between the Children’s Crusade and this weeks Children’s Riot. But if we look a little deeper that are also some remarkable similarities. For me the Children’s Crusade was a protest to what those involved saw as the utter failure of the ruling elite to retake and keep Jerusalem. They took the only option available to them at the time, and that was to embark on their own venture, using Christian piety as their main weapon. This week the children of England took to the streets in violence. They do not have the maturity, skill, and dare I say the intelligence to articulate their anger in an appropriate way. But they also feel angry at what they see as the failure of the ruling elite to provide proper opportunities. Many of the rioters, not all, but many feel that they have no future. In some cases they dare not hope. As a result they have been left with the only course available to them, Violence.

While those who took part in the Children’s Crusade only had one inspiration to follow, that of Christ. The Children of 2011 have had numerous inspirations, none of which had peace and brotherly love as their central message. The violence of modern music, film, and television all have their part to play in this weeks problems. Maybe not directly, but certainly subconsciously.

Some of you who may read this will not agree with my comments. I would like to say that this post is not intended to be a defense of what happened, but a simple vent of some thoughts and some historical connections that came to my mind. But I would like to say that I do not condone the violence. But I can understand why it has happened.

I am surprised it did not happen sooner.

 

 

 

 

 

Cannibalism and the Witches Potion

Witches brewing a potion, (Woodcut) Ulrich Molitor (1493)

In the southern German town of Nordlingen thirty-five witches were executed in a series of trials that took place from 1590ce to 1598ce. The women confessed to Cannibalism and grave desecration, digging up corpses of recently dead children and cooking them. The meal that the Nordlingen babies provided would create an occasion for the witches to meet, the remains of the meal would be then used to make ointments, the bones were ground to form powder and the broth became the water the witches stirred to raise storms. During the medieval and early modern period the belief that witches took part in infant cannibalism was widely accepted, and was promoted by the literature of the period. In England, Reginald Scott wrote of how the Devil, ‘Teacheth them to make ointment of the bowels and members of children, whereby they ride in the air, and accomplish all their desires.’ Johannes Nider, writing in the mid fifteenth century, provides an interesting tale on the cannibalisation of children at the witches sabat. His findings were apparently taken from a  confession of a witch from the Duchy of Lausanne:

 ‘We quietly steal them from their graves and cook them in a cauldron until their bones can be separated from the boiled flesh and the broth. From the more solid material we make an unguent suitable for our rites and transmutations. From the more liquid fluid, we fill up a flask or a bottle made out of skins and he who drinks from this, with the addition of a few ceremonies, immediately becomes an accomplice and a master of our sect’.

It is clear from these two texts that there was a connection between cannibalism and the magical potions and salves used by witches. Witches were believed to be cannibals and the flesh of infants were said to have supernatural powers. As a magical component in potions the flesh of infants could be used to kill people, allow the witch to fly and summon powerful storms. But where did this cannibalistic stereotype come from? In his seminal work, Europe’s Inner Demons, Norman Cohn argued that the medieval literary culture of the educated elite succeeded in imposing misguided views on contemporary heretical groups and transplanted them onto the imagined witches of their time. For example,  the Fraticelli, who were a heretical ofshoot of the larger Franciscan order of friars, were said to have killed babies in a ritualistic fashion, The confession under torture of Francis of Maiolati describes the ritual known as the Barilloto:

‘From the babies born, they take one little boy as a sacrifice. They make a fire around which they stand in a circle. They pass the little boy around from hand to hand until he is quite dried up. Later they make powders from the body. They put the powders in a flask of wine. After the end of mass they give some of this wine to all taking part; each drinks once from the flask of communion.’

This ritual, as Cohn discovered, had a rich history that led back to the early Christian church, when they themselves were accused of such things by the Roman pagan leadership. The eighth century Paulican Heretics of the Armenian Church were also accused of cannibalistic rituals. Guibert of Nogent’s, Historie de sa vie, describes a ritual ascribed to the Soisson heretics which has close similarities to that of the Fraticelli. If we consider again Johannes Nider text, there are similarities also. The consumption of a liquid binding the drinker to the witch’s sect, has the same literary tradition as the Barilloto ritual described by Francis of Mariolati. They even share similar chronology, both being written within thirty-two years of each other. The notion of the ritual cannibalisation of an infant would provide a common factor. It was widely believed, first among the educated elite, and then gradually among the lower parts of society, that babies and small children were devoured, by heretics at nocturnal meetings. This agreement among the different sets of beliefs allowed the inquisitors to see in the confessions they tortured out of women the traditional stories involving cannibalistic infanticide.

R.I. Moore: The Formation of a Persecuting Society 2nd Ed.

R.I. Moore: The Formation of a Persecuting Society 2nd Ed.

R.I. Moore is a leading British academic of Medieval History. Over a career that has spanned forty years he has published numerous works including; The Birth of Popular Heresy (1975), The Origins of European Dissent (1977), and The First European Revolution c.970-1215 (2000). In recent years Moore has been the Emeritus Professor at the University of Newcastle and is working on a new publication which promises to investigate the War on Heresy from the Eleventh to Fourteenth centuries. Considering his bibliography it should be no surprise that his research interests lay in the late medieval period, with a particular emphasis on social and cultural history. The Formation of a Persecuting Society is the result of years of research within this area.

I came across this book during the first year of my history degree. It instantly became one of the most enjoyable and informative books that I had ever read. The style of Moore’s prose is such that it is easily digestible and suitable for the student who may not yet be prepared for the dry academic texts that make up the bulk of their reading lists. That said Moore’s book is not just for the student or academic. Anyone with more than a passing interest in history will find The Formation of a Persecuting Society an enjoyable read that challenges certain historical perceptions of how our present society began.

In the Formation of a Persecuting Society Moore challenges the previously held notion that the persecutions of heretics, Jews, and lepers (among others) of the Twelfth and Thirteenth centuries were pursued independently of each other.  Instead he suggests that the persecutions of these minorities could not possibly have been explained separately because the rhetoric and mentalities of the persecutors were too alike, with similar patterns repeated in every case.

Central to the books argument is that the persecutions were a result of the growing monarchies, both secular and Papal, in the Eleventh century who were beginning to assert themselves in a more dominant way. If we first consider the early medieval period, Moore shows that the legal codes of that society dealt primarily with the individual. For example, the punishment for criminal activity was resolved between the parties involved and often resulted in some form of monetary payment, (http://www.fordham.edu/halsall/source/salic-law.html). Furthermore, order is maintained by the community, family and clan, and not through a distant ruler.

In the process of political centralisation late medieval rulers developed a system of state apparatus which included the appearance of specialised groups for the enforcement of law. These included, but were not restricted to, Judges and Police forces. The law itself ceased to be controlled by the mediation of clan and family and instead began to be imposed from above, from a centralised authority who granted verdicts of innocence or guilt in accordance to new codes. This transition, as Moore suggests, had severe repercussions for minorities groups in the Twelfth and Thirteenth centuries.  He shows this by arguing that medieval rulers began to assert their fledgling authority by creating victimless crimes which were, in essence, crimes against society, state, and morality. These crimes were actively sought out and the alleged criminals were punished through the new institutions, like the inquisition, even though no individual expressed a grievance.

The transition from a passive to a persecuting society can be seen in the increase in secular and papal legislature against minorities. The Fourth Lateran council of 1215, perhaps the most important of the papal councils, was the culmination of a century of anti heresy legislation. The Council was designed to reorganise and reinvigorate the clergy, and put to paper the canons and precepts of the newly reformed Orthodox Church. What is essential to the argument that Moore puts forth is that the Forth Lateran Council of 1215 laid down the mechanism of persecution and created a range of sanctions against those convicted which proved to be adaptable to a much wider variety of victims. Therefore the sanctions originally designed for heretics could just as easily be adapted for Jews, lepers, sodomites and prostitutes and other minority group that did not fit in with the orthodox view of society.

The information presented in the Formation of a Persecuting society is concise and well written and has stood the test of time. It has had its critics, what history book has not? But it also has its supporters and it a testament to Moore’s work that it is often included in the bibliographies of modern medieval academic scholarship.

Gandhi and British Public Opinion Part Four: Gandhi in Britain

The Round Table Conference (RTC) opened on November 12, 1930 and was attended by 86 delegates, which consisted of; 16 that represented the Indian Princes; 57 from British India, including Sapru, Jayakar, and Muhammad Al Jinnah; while the remaining 13 came from members of the British Parliament.[1] The conference was inaugurated by King George V and Prime Minister Ramsay Macdonald, and there was a conciliatory attitude from the British delegate that inspired confidence in the Indians that some form of compromise would be achieved. That said, the British attitude was that the government would not ask the delegate to consider a new constitution prepared by the representatives of the British Parliament, but rather they should use the unique opportunity to discuss and exchange views on broad principles.[2] Ramsay Macdonald opening speech summarised the objectives of the conference in his opening speech:

‘We have met to try and register by agreement by recognition of the fact that India has reached a distinctive point in her constitutional evolution. Whatever the agreement maybe, there will be some who will say that it is not good enough or that is has gone too far. Let them say so. We must boldly come out and appeal to an intelligent and informed public opinion…And when I turn to the representatives of British India I am mindful, it is true, of India’s different communities and languages and interests, but I am reminded still more of the quickening and unifying influences which have grown from her contact with Great Britain’.[3]

 Ramsay’s words, like those of  all good politicians, sounded optimistic but offered little in the way of substance. While inspiring the delegates with positive rhetoric his statement continued to reflect his belief that Great Britain was a unifying element in India. His statement hinted at the chaos he believed would reign if the British left India completely. This subtext was seen by the C.P.B.G who saw the RTC as a ‘danger to world peace and socialism’,[4]  and that, ‘the conference opened with pretence, which hardly deceived any sane person, that it was the starting on the job of giving the people of India their inherent and inalienable right to govern their own country’[5].

By the end of the year the Indian delegates of the RTC had returned home with high hopes for the future. It was generally believed that the British Government would transfer the reins of power to Indian hands in less than ten years. The feeling of optimism was further enhanced by the decision of Lord Irwin and the Indian Government to release Congress Leaders, including Gandhi from their incarceration.[6]  In Great Britain, the end of the RTC provoked an entirely different reaction from the political classes. This study has already shown how Churchill was against the reform of India, and in October had joined the Indian Empire Society, a non-government group dedicated to preserving British rule in India.[7] As a Conservative Member of Parliament this put him in opposition to the front bench politics of his own party, who had supported the Indian policies of Lord Irwin and the Labour Government.[8] Therefore if Churchill wanted to block Indian reform he would not only have to combat the policies of the Conservative Lord Irwin, and the Labour Government, but also his own party.[9] This became increasingly difficult once the coalition Government was formed in 1931. In mid December, 1930, Churchill made a controversial speech to the Indian Empire Society which sought to undermine the faith that had been placed in Britain by the Indian delegates. Referring to Macdonald opening speech Churchill told the society that:

the effect of the speeches made during the five day opening session of the conference has certainly been to give the impression that a vast extension of self government is immediately contemplated and all that remains is to settle the details and method of the transference of power…..No agreement reached at the conference will be binding in any degree morally or legally…The responsibility for framing such an act will rest entirely with the government of the day, and the decision upon their proposals will rest with the House of Commons’.[10]

During his long speech Churchill challenged the authority of the Indian delegates stating that they were in no way representative if the real forces which challenges the British rule in India. Finally, perhaps the most damaging aspect of his speech can be found in his closing statements. In which he makes his views and those of the Indian Empire Society clear:

Above all it must be made plain that the British Nation has no intention of relinquishing its mission in India or of failing in its duty to the Indian masses…we have no intention of casting away that most truly bright and precious jewel in the crown of the King which more than all our other dominions and dependencies constitutes the glory and strength of the British Empire. The loss of India would mark and consummate the down fall of the British Empire. That great Organism would pass at a stroke out of life into history. From such a catastrophe there could be no recovery’.[11]

Churchill was clearly on the fringe politically. His views on Empire, which was shared by his fellow members at the  Indian Empire Society, were deemed out of date and counter-productive by the majority of the population. This is made clear in a letter to Churchill from Lord Linlithgow, later Viceroy of India, which stated, ‘the Indian question does not interest the mass voters in this country’, to which Churchill could only reply, ‘it interests profoundly all those loyal, strong, faithful forces upon which the might of Britain depends’.[12]Churchill’s response provoked an instant rebuke from the British Premier, Ramsay Macdonald, who described Churchill’s statement as ‘mischievous from beginning to end without one constructive idea or proposal in it’.[13] He accused Churchill of damaging the possibility for peace in India and for giving the Indian National Congress the ‘opportunity of rousing up prejudice in India against the British Raj’.[14] Though Churchill was marginalised by the political parties in Britain he remained a very vocal advocate of British imperialism in India, and his voice continued to be heard throughout 1931.

1931, would prove to be an exciting and dramatic time for the Indian Independence movement. It would be marked by two key events; the Gandhi-Irwin Pact, and Gandhi’s visit to Great Britain, which consisted of the Second Round Table Conference and his much publicised visit to the Lancastrian cotton mills . In January, Gandhi was put under growing pressure to compromise from two elements within the swaraj movement. The first came from the Indian bourgeoisie businessmen whose resolve was beginning to weaken due to the effects of the civil disobedience campaigns. They held within their remit certain sections of the movement such as the urban boycott and the no tax movement but these were gradually fracturing as the civil disobedience continued.[15] This pressure perhaps highlights the concern from the C.P.G.B. that Gandhi was always quick to pander to the Indian bourgeoisie. The second call for compromise came from Sapru, Sastri, and Jayakar, who having just returned from the RTC were full of confidence, and did not want their efforts to go to ruin.[16] Pressures from both the business community and the Indian liberals finally convinced Gandhi to open a dialogue with Lord Irwin. Gandhi finally met Irwin on February 17 and reports gave the meeting mixed reviews. The Times stated that the talks invoked a ‘cautious optimism’ for the future, while Sir Sankaran Nair, who was Chairman of the Indian Commission, asked in the Statesmen magazine whether, ‘Mr Gandhi is going to repeat his egregious folly of ten years ago by attempting to lay down conditions which no self respecting government can possibly agree to’.[17] While in support of the British Nair continued, let it not be forgotten also that the wonderful unanimity of English opinion behind the Prime Ministers policy is only likely to continue if there is evidence of India’s desire to take advantage of the opportunity offered’. [18]Nair’s suggestion that the majority of the British population was supportive of Indian constitutional reform fits in with this studies argument that British people considered themselves not to be the imperial masters of a vast empire, but rather as members of a large fraternity of states. This viewpoint is contrary to Churchill who typically said, It is alarming and also nauseating to see Mr. Gandhi, a seditious middle temple lawyer, now posing as a fakir of a type well known in the east, striding half naked up the steps of the vice regal palace, while he is still organising and conducting a defiant campaign of civil disobedience, to parley on equal terms with the representative of the King-Emperor’[19]. This statement is further proof of Churchill’s marginalisation from mainstream politics, where his statements become less about policy, and more about sensationalism. Furthermore in another speech at the Royal Albert Hall March 18 1931, Churchill shows how out of touch he was with conservative party politics:

‘One would have thought that if there was one cause in the world which the Conservative party would have hastened to defend, it would be the cause of the British Empire in India. One would have expected that the whole force of the Conservative party machine would have been employed for months in building up a robust, educated opinion throughout the country, and in rallying all its strongest forces to guard our vital interests. Unhappily all that influence, and it is an enormous influence, has been cast the other way. The Conservative leaders have decided that we are to work with the Socialists, and that we must make our action conform with theirs’[20]

During the negotiations with Irwin, Gandhi argued for the following practical concessions; the release of the Satyagrahi’s in jail; the discharge of the Meerut prisoners; enquiries into police excesses; and the abolition of the Salt Tax.[21] On the opposite side of the negotiations Irwin argued for, among other things, the secession of the civil disobedience campaign.[22] During the negotiations Irwin clearly had superior skills, and though he congratulated Gandhi on the tactical skill in choosing salt as his main weapon, managed to triumph during the talks. On March 5, Gandhi had signed an agreement that gained very little for the Congress Party and the Independence movement, but reaped huge rewards for the government in India including the secession of the civil disobedience campaign, and a promise from Gandhi to attend a second round table conference later that year. By calling off the civil disobedience campaign Gandhi provoked criticism, not only from outside groups like the C.P.G.B. But also from within the Congress leadership, where Jawaharlal Nehru later said, ‘This is how the world ends, not with a bang but with a whimper’[23]. Perhaps the most cutting reproach came from Clemens Dutt, who wrote in May, 1931:

‘Less than year ago the National Congress, claiming to serve the national struggle and holding in practice full effective leadership, proclaimed battle with British Imperialism, with the slogan “complete Independence” from British rule on their banners, and with solemn vow never to renounce the struggle until the attainment of this goal. Millions entered the struggle; thousands have been killed; tens of thousands have been imprisoned; hundreds of thousands have undergone the violence of police and military brutality. And now the Congress have called off the struggle-for what? Not for a fraction of their previous professed aims; not for a fragment even of a strategic gain; but for permission to take part in a lickspittles’ conference that they had sworn to boycott, and assist in elaborating the details of a constitution that is to serve as new fig leaf of autocracy, that enthrones every force of, reaction and leaves every key of power in British hand’.[24]

 This study would suggest that the feeling of betrayal espoused by Clemens Dutt in The Labour Monthly were indicative of the feelings that some members of the C.I.L. or the I.L.P. would have felt. But they remained silent on the matter, because they were courting favour from Gandhi and the Congress party.

Gandhi reached England in September 1931 to attend the second session of the RTC. His aims in Britain were twofold. On the one hand he was to represent Congress at the RTC, but on the other Gandhi wanted to reach the British Public, ostensibly to ascertain the real pulse of public opinion on the subject of India, thus, as Judith Brown has pointed out, Gandhi sought to activate British public opinion and parliament into forcing the Government of India to make concessions.[25] His arrival brought with it much excitement and a flurry of books on India, were published which reflect the growing interest in all things ‘Indian’. Among those books published were; Charles F. Andrew, Mahatma Gandhi at Work; Millie Polaks’s Mr Gandhi: The Man; Verrier Elwin and Jack Winslow’s The Dawn of Indian Freedom; Robert Bernay’s “Naked Fakir”; and, H.N. Brailsford’s Rebel India.[26]

Once Gandhi had arrived, instead of choosing the more ostentatious residences of the other RTC delegates, Gandhi chose the more humble abode of Kingsley Hall, which was situated deep within London’s eastend. Similar to Gandhi’s ashram in India, Kingsley Hall was established by a group of dedicated pacifists who formed a community of prayer, service, and voluntary poverty under the auspices of Muriel Lester.[27] According to Lester, Gandhi’s movements always created excitement, with large crowds accompanying him as he walked around the Eastend. According to Lester Gandhi would take time out of his busy schedual to spend with the locals asking them about their work, their lives.[28] These encounters show the positive feeling felt towards Gandhi from the working class in Great Britain which is a vast difference from the view of Gandhi which was represented in the Press.

Perhaps one of the most publicised periods of Gandhi’s time in Britain was his visit to the Lancastrian cotton mills. Prior to his visit Gandhi advocated the boycott of cheap British cotton, which contributed to a loss of 70% of British imported cotton in the years 1928-30.[29] His feelings were made clear in Hind Swaraj, arguably Gandhi’s manifesto on independence, when he wrote, ‘It is difficult to measure the harm that Manchester has done to us’. His visit received mixed reviews. The Manchester Guardian as the chief exponent of liberalism in the British press were both supportive and encouraging, while the Times chose to remain conservative and kept their reports to the economic implications of the cotton trade.[30] However among the cotton mill workers, like the working class of the East end views of Gandhi’s were positive.[31] Furthermore, Gandhi’s arrival was met with friendly faces and cheers, which shows that a certain level of understanding from the Lancastrians of the wider political implications of the Indian cotton boycott. The reason for this may lie in the fact that the political parties and groups who supported Indian reform, like the Labour party and the I.L.P. found their core strength within the industrial areas of Great Britain.


[1] Manchester Guardian, November 9, 1930, p17.

[2] Manchester Guardian, November 9, 1930, p17.

[3] Manchester Guardian, November, 13, 1930, p13.

[4] Shapurji Saklatvala, ‘The Indian Round Table Conference’ found at http://www.marxist.org/saklatvala/1931/02/x01.htm [Accessed: 03/02/2010].

[5] Shapurji Saklatvala, ‘The Indian Round Table Conference’.

[6] B.N. Pandey, ‘The Break up for British India’ p134.

[7] The Times, June 5, 1930, p7.

[8] Ian St. John, ‘Writing to the Defence of the Empire’ p107.

[9] Ian St. John, ‘Writing to the Defence of the Empire’ p107.

[10] Manchester Guardian, ‘December 12, 1930, p4.

[11] Manchester Guardian, ‘December 12, 1930, p4.

[12] Ian St. John, ‘Writing to the Defence of the Empire’ p116.

[13] Manchester Guardian, ‘December 12, 1930, p4.

[14] Manchester Guardian, ‘December 12, 1930, p4.

[15] Sumit Sarkar, ‘The Logic of Gandhian Nationalism’ p117.

[16] Judith Brown, ‘The Role of a National Leader: Gandhi, Congress and Civil Disobedience,’ in D.A Low’s (ed) Congress and the Raj (New Delhi: Heinemann Education Books Ltd, 1977) p138.

[17] The Times, February 18, 1931, p14.

[18] The Times, February 18, 1931, p14.

[19] James D. Hunt, ‘Gandhi in London’ (New Delhi: Nataraj Books, 1993) p176.

[21] CWMG, Vol51. 207 p140.

[22] Sumit Sarkar, ‘The Logic of Gandhian Nationalism’. p139.

[23] Judith Brown, ‘The Role of a National Leader’ p138.

[24] Clemens Dutt, ‘India’ found at http://www.marxist.org/archive/dutt/1931/05/x01.htm [Accessed: 03/02/2010].

[25] Judith Brown, ‘Gandhi and Civil Disobedience: The Mahatma in Indian Politics 1928-1934’ (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2009) p257.

[26] James D. Hunt, ‘Gandhi in London’ p179.

[27] James D. Hunt, ‘Gandhi in London’ p181.

[28] James D. Hunt, ‘Gandhi in London’ p190.

[29] The Times, October 1, 1931, p11.

[30] The Times, October 1, 1931, p11.

[31] James D. Hunt, ‘Gandhi in London’ p190.

All in the Past Facebook Page Update

The All in the Past is up and running. Please come and join.

AHRC refutes Observer allegations

Yesterday the AHRC issued a statement regarding the allegations reported in the Observer Newspaper. Citing numerous inaccuracies and setting the story straight. In their statement the AHRC said:

“Specific research applications are funded on the basis of academic peer review, not government command. If academic peer reviewers do not feel the research is excellent, and of sufficient importance and value for money, it does not get funded”.

This is certainly welcome news. However I will look closely from now on for any future Conservative meddling into Academic funding.

For the full statement you can see it here.

When the future affects the past.

It seems that David Cameron has found a new way in which to ruin the United Kingdoms history of Academic excellence. In todays (27th March) Observer it was reported that Mr Cameron is insisting that the Arts and Humanities Research Council (AHRC) use a ‘significant amount’ of its annual £100m research grant to research Cameron’s ‘Big Society’.

Up until this point the AHRC’s funding was protected under the Haldane Principal which decrees that researchers themselves and not politicians should decide where funding is best suited. However during the current coalition government the Haldane Principal has undergone a ‘clarification’. Furthermore it seems that the once hallowed principal must work to the governments national objectives.

The Observer reported that the AHRC was told that if they wished to maintain their £100m annual grant then research into Cameron’s ’Big Society’ was non-negotiable, and were then forced to accept the changes by officials working for David Willets Minister for Universities and Science. The decision to rework the Haldane Principal has provoked, as one would imagine, strong criticism especially from among British Academics. Chief among these protests has come from Professor Peter Mandler, the Director of research at Cambridge University’s history faculty, who had this to say:

‘They (the government) say it is now their right to set the priorities for how this funding is distributed. They have got the AHRC over a barrel and basically told these guys that have their money unless they incorporate these research priorities”

So it appears that not only is the coalition government content to cut funds to universities causing a massive hike in University fees. But they are also to dictate what people research at the highest level. As an aspiring academic myself (early days though) I am not looking forward to being told what to study.

Professor Collin Jones, president of the Royal Historical Society (RHS) stated in the Observer:

It seems to me to be absolutely gross. In a way the AHRC should be congratulated for securing a good settlement in a difficult spending round, but there is something slightly ignoble about  making the big society a research priority

The historian and Labour MP Tristram Hunt went further when he said, ‘It is disgraceful that tax payers money is being spent on this bogus idea’.

A sentiment that I entirely agree with. The fact that the ‘big society’ needs academics to research into what it is just illuminates the fact that even the Prime Minister isn’t sure what it is.

BBC: The Bibles Hidden Secrets.

The BBC’s new documentary series entitled, The Bible’s Hidden Secrets, is exactly the kind of television that I want from out national broadcast service. It was excellently presented by Exeter University Lecturer Dr. Francesca Stavrakopoulou and during the course of the hour-long programme provoked some interesting questions about the origins of Judaic monotheism. In the first episode she investigated how ‘God’ or ‘Yahwah’ was not alone in the celestial realm, but was one of many and may have even had a wife in the form of the goddess Asherah who provided the role for fertility rites within the early Canaanite culture. A culture, as Stavrakopoulou argues, which was shared with the early Hebrews.

In a recent article Stavrakopoulou makes this clearer:

‘The goddess Asherah was worshipped in Yahweh’s temple in Jerusalem. In the Book Of Kings, we’re told that a statue of Asherah was housed in the temple and that female temple personnel wove ritual textiles for her’.

‘But perhaps most significant of all, Asherah was also the wife of El, the high god at Ugarit  – a god who shares much in common with Yahweh. Given the evidence within the Bible that she was worshipped in the temple in Jerusalem, might she have played the role of a divine wife in ancient Israel too?’

Of course these findings are not new. In 2005 William G. Dever published a book entitled, ‘Did God have a Wife’ in which his conclusions are very similar to Dr. Stavrakopoulou’s. But this is perhaps the first  time that this argument has been made available to a wider and more diverse audience. As a result the programme and the revelations therein are likely to cause some stirring within the religious communities that owe their heritage to the Judaic tradition, namely Christianity and Islam. In the Daily Mail, former MP Anne Widdecombe said in her usual belligerent way:

‘‘I would guess that most other theologians will demolish her theory in three seconds flat.’

But I would suggest otherwise. If the evidence is there (assuming that Dr. Stavrakopoulou’s findings are correct), only a fool would continue to read the biblical texts in the same way. After all reinterpreting the text doesn’t necessarily have to shatter ones belief in the divine. As a Roman Catholic Ms Widdecombe’s quick response says more about her then it does about the findings made by a scholar who has looked at the Bible with fresh eyes. Too long the devout have blindly taken what is told to them. As a Historians we are told to go to the source, look and analyse, see for yourself. Maybe Ms Widdecombe might learn something new, instead of blindly dismissing scholarly found evidence.

The show continues this Tuesday on BBC 2 at 9pm

Barry Coward RIP

While the world mourns the loss of an international Icon (Elizabeth Taylor) and the music legend (Pine Top Perkins) let us not forget Professor Barry Coward, who may not have had the glitz of Hollywood or the fretplay of an icon, but had the rewarding gift (though sometimes unappreciated) of being a teacher, an academic, and inspiring speaker. You will be sorely missed.

For more infor: www.historytoday/blog/editor/paul-lay/tribute-barry-coward

Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 227 other followers