Who wrote: “Out of the crooked timber of humanity no straight thing was ever made”?
Kant in Idea for a Universal History with a Cosmopolitan Purpose, or rather, it is Isaiah Berlin’s translation of Kant’s ungainly
“Aus so krummem Holze, als woraus der Mensch gemacht ist, kann nichts ganz Gerades gezimmert werden.”
Carlos Guastavino, Bailecito, Valentina Diaz-Frenot, time and place of recording not stated:
Bailecito: traditional Argentinian dance. There’s a duet version with Freire and Argerich here (better played, of course).
Epstein at war, 1917. Silent Pathé clip. He served briefly in the 38th Battalion of the Royal Fusiliers, aka the Jewish Legion. Did he fight in Palestine? Where is his reputation now? It seems uncertain.
Re the last post but one, Jacob Epstein’s sculptures were not really like the ill-defined “pre-Romanesque” sculpture to which Toynbee alludes, but Toynbee’s phrase “clumsy stiffness” is likely to refer to his work.
Through Epstein’s 1908 figures for the façade of the new British Medical Association building in the Strand, now Zimbabwe House, the British public had its first and formative encounter with a version of Modernism.
The encounter was unsettling because it took place in a street. It was known that strange things had been happening in painting, but paintings were in galleries. Sickert painted some of his Camden Town nudes in the same year.
The Epstein sculptures epitomised the modern. Their stripping away of an academic veil, not the subject-matter, made the reaction to them prudish. They might have been at the back of Toynbee’s and Strudwick’s minds a quarter of a century later. The BMA resisted the campaign for their removal.
The Evening Standard warned that Epstein had erected “a form of statuary which no careful father would wish his daughter, or no discriminating young man his fiancée, to see”. Half a century later Mervyn Griffith-Jones would ask during the Lady Chatterley trial: “When you have read it through, would you approve of your young sons, young daughters – because girls can read as well as boys – reading this book? Is it a book that you would have lying around in your own house? Is it a book that you would even wish your wife or your servants to read?”
The building became Rhodesia House (or the High Commission of Southern Rhodesia) in 1923.
Wikipedia: “London was not ready for Epstein’s first major commission – 18 large nude sculptures made in 1908 for the façade of Charles Holden’s building for the British Medical Association on The Strand (now Zimbabwe House) were initially considered shocking to Edwardian sensibilities, [...] mainly due to the perception that they were over-explicit sexually. In art-historical terms, however, the Strand sculptures were controversial for quite a different reason: they represented Epstein’s first thoroughgoing attempt to break away from traditional European iconography in favour of elements derived from an alternative sculptural milieu – that of classical India. The female figures in particular may be seen deliberately to incorporate the posture and hand gestures of Buddhist, Jain and Hindu art from the subcontinent in no uncertain terms. The current, mutilated condition of many of the sculptures is also not entirely connected with prudish censorship; the damage was caused in the 1930s when possibly dangerous projecting features were hacked off after pieces fell from one of the statues.” Not entirely?
If Toynbee and Strudwick had forgotten about the Ages of Man, they were thinking of the likes of Epstein’s Tomb of Oscar Wilde (1912) in the Père Lachaise Cemetery, and the reliefs of Epstein, Henry Moore, Eric Gill and others (1928) for the London Electric Railway headquarters (Moore’s first public commission).
BMA figures post-mutilation (first two images), photographs of original plaster casts (last four); credit: Nick Maroudas, Spike Magazine
Partial photo collage, Flickr credit: Dr Chester Chu
More shots at Flickr. I can’t find good images of the female figures.
Since I mentioned Hammersmith and Gustav Holst in the last post (including comments), here is Holst’s enigmatic Hammersmith (1930): a prelude and a scherzo. Eastman Wind Ensemble, Frederick Fennell. I wonder what Miss Strudwick thought of it.
“Over against the ever more amazing inventions of Science we see a kind of childishness creeping over our thoughts, our modes of expression, our art, our music, our morals. We talk in words from a very limited vocabulary, we produce pictures and statues of a more than ungainly ‘neo-primitiveness’, we croon nigger songs while we push one another round a room in dances that need no brain, no zest, and no vitality for their successful performance. Many of our buildings have as their chief merits the fact that they can be rushed up quickly and finished within a few weeks. We tear over the Earth’s surface along roads of brick-box straightness, past rows of houses of brick-box exactitude and hideousness, in order to get somewhere, it does not much matter where, in record time. Finally, the novels we read, apparently with pleasure, for there are many of them, show men and women as ill-conducted children whose one concern is that which they share with the animal world.
“There is to me something grim and horrible in an essentially mature civilisation playing at savage immaturity when it knows better. We cannot go back to the beginning of things any more than a mature mind can change into that of a child.”
[Footnote: Miss E. Strudwick, the Headmistress of St. Paul’s Girls’ School, Hammersmith, London, England, in a presidential address delivered on the 17th June, 1933, at Liverpool, at a Conference of the British Association of Head Mistresses. The text quoted here has been taken from the report in The Manchester Guardian of the 19th June, 1933.]
He must have kept the cutting. Quoting this was not, perhaps, Toynbee’s finest moment. He was consistently and passionately anti-racist and did not constantly complain about the modern world, but in 1954 his views on culture were still uncompromising. The N word could be introduced, in a quotation, in that context. No doubt those views were modified. His granddaughter Polly must have told him about pop music. Those were the conversations that happened in the ’60s. The older generation wasn’t entirely unaffected by the Zeitgeist.
“Roads of brick-box straightness [and] rows of houses of brick-box exactitude and hideousness” reminds one of dystopian cartoons of the time and of passages in novels such as Orwell’s Coming Up for Air.
As for neo-primitiveness, I wrote in an earlier post: “Englishmen of Toynbee’s generation and education probably thought, c 1935, of the sculptures of Jacob Epstein, with their ‘lines [...] cunningly reduced to the clumsy stiffness of the pre-Romanesque Dark Ages’, before they thought of buildings in the clean, anti-archaising International Style when Modernism was mentioned.”
See John Carey, The Intellectuals and the Masses, Pride and Prejudice among the Literary Intelligentsia, 1880-1939, Faber, 1992 and Richard Overy, The Morbid Age, Britain between the Wars, Allen Lane, 2009 (subsequently renamed).
Ethel Strudwick CBE (1880–1954) was the daughter of a Pre-Raphaelite painter, John Melhuish Strudwick. She read Classics at Bedford College, London and taught at City of London School for Girls from 1913. She was High Mistress of St Paul’s Girls’ School from 1927 to ’48. She has a DNB entry and apparently had a sense of humour.
Image at spgs.org, artist not stated
A Study of History, Vol IX, OUP, 1954
Frederick’s unprincipled attack on the dominions of Maria Theresa in A.D. 1740, within Gibbon’s [...] lifetime, was the first step in a German descensus Averni which was to reach the bottom of the infernal pit in A.D. 1933-45.
A Study of History, Vol IX, OUP, 1954
From an unidentified British documentary.
In the series The Reunion, BBC Radio 4. Sue MacGregor reunites British personnel involved in the operation. Listen here.
The same page has a link to the back series, going back to 2006. Most programmes are accessible, including one on the Hitler diaries.
Wikipedia page on the blockade.
New popular history monthly (since March) to compete with BBC History Magazine (May 2000-) and History Today (January 1951-). Immediate Media Company, Bristol. Subscribe.
Not a war series or other special, just a magazine. The most downmarket of the three, but not a disaster, and good bathroom reading.
History Today (old post).
Reading in German of Walter Flex’s story Das Weihnachtsmärchen des 50. Regiments, a fantasy about a war widow and a tribute to the dead of the war. The reading is preceded by a short documentary in German about Flex.
This was presumably a CD-Rom. Credits at 4:45. The music at the beginning is Götterdämmerung. I can’t identify the still.
On Flex, see posts since August 18.
The Wanderer between the Two Worlds (recent post).
German mini-docudrama about Walter Flex and the Europeana Collections 1914-1918 project, which has included digitising material about Flex held in the Staatsbibliothek zu Berlin; full credits in film, English subtitles:
British Museum virtual exhibition of some of the Berlin Flex material.
For a vast photographic archive of soldiers and sailors doing everything except fighting, go to this ipernity collection. Camp captions present the images as soft porn, although these people were fighting in real wars and some must still be alive.
FT Prince’s poem Soldiers Bathing was published in a collection in 1954. Here is Prince reading it in 1993. Obituaries: Guardian, Telegraph, Independent, The New York Times. The Independent calls Soldiers Bathing “one of the two best-known [English] poems of the Second World War”, the other being Henry Reed’s Naming of Parts. Guardian review (2012) of his collected poems.
German soldiers, Russian Front, First World War
German soldiers, Russian Poland, First World War
Postcard, First World War
Eakins-like: German soldiers, location not stated, Second World War
Images via ipernity.
Since I mentioned it in the last post, here is VW’s A Pastoral Symphony conducted by Eugene Ormandy with the Philadelphia Orchestra, October 12 1972. Offstage soprano Benita Valente.
Lento moderato – Moderato maestoso
Roger Norrington on the symphony when playing it with the Deutsches Symphonie Orchester Berlin.
“A literary event of the first importance” used to be the publisher’s phrase. The first publication in English translation of Walter Flex’s First World War novella (the best-selling German novel of the whole war) Der Wanderer zwischen beiden Welten is of some importance.
It was published in Germany in 1916. Flex had been born in Thuringia. He died on the Eastern front. This wasn’t his only work (Wikipedia has a bibliography on its English and German pages). Its subtitle is Ein Kriegserlebnis, or An Experience of War. It is partly autobiographical and is narrated in the first person.
It was published in English on August 4 by Rott Publishing (with which I have an involvement). You can buy it here. The fine translation is by Brian Murdoch, who published the modern English translation of All Quiet on the Western Front with Random House. We are proud to have him with Rott.
“By 1917,” says Wikipedia, “over 700,000 copies had been printed in Germany – a testament to his extreme popularity with the wartime public. His reputation grew in the post-war years and his romantic idealism was exploited by the Nazi party, which found his evocative and romantic lyricism especially appealing and considered it an expression of Aryan ideals.” It was popular with the Nazis because of its glorification of the soldier’s struggle in war.
Murdoch’s source is “a soft-cover edition with the imprint Oskar Beck (C. H. Beck), Munich, 1922 (210-215th thousand)”, a reprint of “the most familiar edition, that published in Munich by Beck in 1918 and in very many later editions, and which sold in their thousands in hard covers and paperback”. Statements which, I suppose, are not necessarily incompatible with Wikipedia’s.
Without the hint of a spoiler, or links to one, I can say that it is about a friendship between two German soldiers who meet in Lorraine in 1915. In the same year, having expected to go to an Italian front, they are transferred to the Eastern front. Places in the Baltic States, Poland, Belarus are mentioned. The action ends in 1916 in Lithuania.
It isn’t repulsive, but is full of the sentiments of its time and of what one might call that terrible German purity of heart. The Japanese had something similar. Strip away the culture and all you have is young people in a war and ordinary purity of heart.
Murdoch translates Der Wanderer zwischen beiden Welten as The Wanderer between the Two Worlds, not as The Wanderer between Two Worlds, because beiden implies that the two worlds have been identified. (We are speaking of both worlds, not any two worlds.) But it might, by that very reasoning, have been more natural to drop the article.
So what are the two worlds? That would be a spoiler. Nor is it entirely clear. Anyone who has heard a rumour that this is a gay novella will assume that the wanderer between them is a Uranian. He isn’t. We aren’t in the world of Magnus Hirschfeld.
The book has many references to the Wandervogel (singular). Wanderer is a potent word. Young Romantic Germans wandered in the forests with a book held open in front of them. There’s a Hölderlin elegy called Der Wanderer. A German car made from 1911 to ’45 was called the Wanderer. An Anglo-Saxon poem, The Wanderer, sounds ripe for Schubert as you read it.
Flex quotes Goethe (who wrote two poems called Wandrers Nachtlied) and his own verses. The main Flex poem is Wildgänse rauschen durch die Nacht, Wild geese rush through the night. The geese are a leitmotif in the novella.
In 1916 Robert Götz set this poem to music as a march. Here it is on YouTube. I suppose this is repulsive. (The words were later changed to remove a reference to the Kaiser.) After writing this, I tested the song on someone who had grown up in the Nazizeit. She recognised it, but didn’t want to hear more than the first few seconds.
Remarque alluded to Flex’s novel in a sequel to All Quiet on the Western Front. Murdoch:
“Of the Weimar anti-war novelists, Remarque alluded, I think quite deliberately, in his far less familiar sequel to All Quiet on the Western Front, a novel called Der Weg zurück (The Road Back, 1931), to Flex’s motif of the wild geese and to the Wandervogel youth movement. In fact Remarque concludes his second war-novel – written not too long before Hitler came to power – with some almost elegiac regrets on the part of some ex-soldiers that the more or less harmless pre-war movement of which Flex was such a great proponent, with its quasi-ecological brand of (fairly local) patriotism, had been replaced already in the immediate post-war years by the new and belligerent right-wing militaristic movements from the Freikorps down, eventually, to the Hitler Youth, and of course to another war.”
Murdoch: “Flex’s scenes of the actual fighting can be vivid, but there is always a feeling that they have been sanitised, and his heroes die too cleanly.”
The only reference to Jews is in relation to a wish for death for the nation rather than ignoble life: “Do you wish to drag with you a prolonged existence, like the Wandering Jew, unable to die, the whipping-boy of all the newly arisen nations, even though he had buried the Egyptians, the Greeks and the Romans?” But one wouldn’t necessarily expect Jewish references here.
We have the translation of the novella, then an Afterword about Walter and Walter’s death in action in Estonia in October 1917 written by his brother Martin, who signs his piece “On the battlefield, November 1917”. What battlefield, what was Martin Flex doing there, and what happened to him?
Walter’s younger (youngest?) brother Otto had been killed on the Marne at the start of the war.
After Martin’s statement comes a lucid essay by Brian Murdoch and his notes on the translation and on further reading. His essay places the novella in the context of other novels written during and after the war and of diaries and letters written during it.
Part of the rich literature produced by the citizen armies of the First World War was their letters and diaries. My own German grandfather wrote pious and patriotic letters, some of which I hope to publish here. Walter Flex’s novella partly reflects that informal literature.
The soldiers were conscious, as soldiers must always have been, of the nature around them as they fought, distracting them, perhaps subverting their will. The chaos of war nothing to the riot of Pan. There is something of this in War and Peace. Nature is omnipresent in this novella. There are many passages of lyrical beauty. The pastoral theme is present in English poetry of the war. Vaughan Williams’s quiet, tense A Pastoral Symphony is a musical memory of wartime France, not of peacetime England.
Our cover image varies a motif which appeared on the cover of the early Beck editions.
What are the differences between the Syriac Orthodox Church of Antioch, Assyrian Church of the East, Greek Patriarchate of Antioch and All the East, and Jacobite Syrian Christian Church? What two churches are Chaldaean?
To a friend today: “To be fair to AJT, he was interested in parallels first, patterns second, cycles third.”
Back August 17.
“Réalisé à New York (Manhattan Center Studios) en octobre 1992, ce fut le premier enregistrement, par Marin Alsop dirigeant le Concordia Orchestra et cinq solistes vocaux, de l’intégralité du petit ‘opéra noir’ en un acte intitulé Blue Monday, rebaptisé plus tard 135th Street Blues, que George Gershwin composa en 1922 à l’aube de sa brillante carrière. Avec ses maladresses, ses lacunes et ses naïvetés, ce mini-opéra fait certes pâle figure comparé au chef-d’oeuvre que sera Porgy and Bess treize ans plus tard. Éric Lipmann, spécialiste de Gershwin, voit toutefois en Blue Monday ‘une tentative passionnante qui visait à donner au théâtre lyrique une oeuvre originale puisant ses sources dans l’expression populaire’, une sorte de ‘petite maquette’ de Porgy and Bess.
Les solistes sont: Amy Burton (Vi), soprano, Gregory Hopkins (Joe), ténor, William Sharp (Tom et Sweet Pea), baryton, Arthur Woodley (Sam), baryton, et Jamie J. Offenbach (Mike), baryton-basse. Se succèdent sans interruption:
[00:00] Overture and Prologue
[03:24] Blue Monday Blues
[07:04] Has one of you seen Joe?
[10:37] Blue Monday Blues (reprise)
[12:10] I’m Goin’ to see my Mother
[18:30] Vi, I’m expecting a telegram”
Gershwin. But not as you know it. Rosa Linda, piano. Paul Whiteman and His Concert Orchestra. Recorded 1938. Version, I think, by Frank Campbell Watson, who was in charge of Gershwin’s scores after his death.
So a work (watered-down Gershwin, but enjoyable enough, and the original is not his best work) to add to the Concerto in F and the Second Rhapsody.
There is no direct contemporary evidence for St Thomas the Apostle coming to Kerala, but such a trip would have been possible for a Roman Jew in the first century. Jews lived in India then. The earliest text connecting him to India is the Acts of Thomas, one of the New Testament Apocrypha, written in Edessa early in the third century.
The word Malankara in the name of several south Indian churches derives from the name of the island of Maliankara near Muziris, where Thomas first landed.
According to tradition, he established Seven Churches, the Ezharapallikal: Cranganore (Malayalam: കൊടുങ്ങല്ലൂര്), Paravur (Kottakavu) (കോട്ടക്കാവ്), Palayoor (പാലയൂര്), Kokkamangalam (കൊക്കമംഗലം), Niranam (നിരണം), Chayal (Nilackal) (നിലക്കല്), Kollam (Quilon) (കൊല്ലം).
Thomas of Cana, a Syrian, arrived in Kerala in the fourth century or later. The subgroup of Thomas Christians known as the Southists trace their lineage to him and his followers. The Northists claim descent from Thomas the Apostle’s converts.
Settlers and missionaries from Persia, members of the Church of the East (East Syrian rite), or Nestorian Church (last post), which was centred in the Sasanian capital of Seleucia-Ctesiphon, started to establish themselves in Kerala.
Nestorianism, which insists on the dual nature of Christ, had been condemned at the Council of Ephesus in 431. Many of Nestorius’s supporters moved to Sasanid Persia, from where they spread into Central Asia and China.
Circa 650 Patriarch Ishoyahb III solidified the Church of the East’s jurisdiction over the Thomas Christians. In the late eighth century Patriarch Timothy I organised the community as the Ecclesiastical Province of India, one of the Nestorian church’s illustrious Provinces of the Exterior.
After this point the Province of India was headed by a metropolitan bishop provided by Persia, the Metropolitan-Bishop of the Seat of St Thomas and the Whole Christian Church of India. His metropolitan see was probably in Cranganore, or (perhaps nominally) in Mylapore, the original burial site of St Thomas, before his body was moved to Edessa. Under him were bishops, and a native Archdeacon, who had authority over the clergy and who wielded a great amount of secular power.
For a time the archidiaconate was hereditary in the Pakalomattam family, who claimed a connection with Thomas the Apostle. In the broader Church of the East, each bishop was attended by an archdeacon, but in India, there was only ever one archdeacon, even when the province had several bishops serving it.
The blame for the destruction of the Nestorian communities east of Iraq has often been thrown upon the Turco-Mongol leader Timur, whose campaigns during the 1390s spread havoc in Persia and Central Asia. But in many parts of Central Asia Christianity had died out decades before Timur’s campaigns. The evidence from Central Asia, including a large number of dated graves, indicates that the crisis for the Church of the East occurred in the 1340s rather than the 1390s.
In China, the last references to Nestorian and Latin Christians date from the 1350s. It is likely that all foreign Christians were expelled from China soon after the revolution of 1368, which replaced the Mongol Yuan dynasty with the xenophobic Ming.
India was cut off from the Church’s new heartland in northern Mesopotamia. Nestorian Christianity was now mainly confined to the triangle formed by Mosul and Lakes Van and Urmia. There were small Nestorian communities further west, notably in Jerusalem and Cyprus, but the Malabar Christians of India represented the only significant survival of the once-thriving exterior provinces of the Church of the East.
By the late fifteenth century India had had no metropolitan for several generations, and the authority traditionally associated with him had been vested in the Archdeacon.
In 1491 the Archdeacon sent envoys to the Patriarch of the Church of the East, as well as to the Oriental Orthodox Coptic Pope of Alexandria and the Syriac Oriental Orthodox Patriarch of Antioch, requesting a new bishop for India.
The Patriarch of the Church of the East Shemʿon IV Basidi responded by consecrating two bishops and dispatching them to India. These bishops helped to reestablish fraternal ties with the patriarchate, but the years of separation had changed the structure of the Indian church. The Archdeacon was firmly established as the real power in the Malankara community.
When the Portuguese arrived in 1498, the Thomas Christians were in a difficult position. Though prosperous owing to their large stake in the spice trade and protected by a formidable militia, the small community had come under pressure from the forces of the powerful rajas of Calicut, Cochin and various smaller kingdoms. When the Vasco da Gama arrived on the Malabar coast, the leaders of the St Thomas community proffered a formal alliance to their fellow Christians. The Portuguese, keen to implant themselves in the spice trade and to expand Latin Christianity, jumped at the opportunity.
Facilitating the objective, the Padroado Real: the treaties and decrees in which the Pope conferred authority in ecclesiastical matters on the Portuguese secular authorities in territories they conquered. The Portuguese organised themselves in Goa, established a church hierarchy, and set themselves to bringing the native Christians into conformity with Latin church customs and subjecting them to the authority of the Archbishop of Goa.
Following the death of Metropolitan Mar Jacob in 1552, the Portuguese became more aggressive in their efforts to subjugate the Thomas Christians. Protests on the part of the natives were frustrated by events in the Church of the East’s Mesopotamian heartland, which left them devoid of consistent leadership. In 1552, a schism there resulted in there being two rival patriarchates, one of which entered into communion with the Catholic Church (was that the Chaldean Catholic Church?) and the other of which remained independent. At different times both patriarchs sent bishops to India, but the Portuguese were able to outmanœuvre the newcomers or convert them to Latin rite Catholicism outright. In 1575 the Padroado declared that neither patriarch could appoint prelates to the community without Portuguese consent, thereby cutting the Thomas Christians off from their own hierarchy.
In 1599 the last Metropolitan, Abraham, died. The Archbishop of Goa, Aleixo de Menezes, secured the submission of the young Archdeacon George, the highest remaining representative of the native church hierarchy. Menezes convened the Synod of Diamper, which instituted a number of structural and liturgical reforms to the Indian church. The parishes were brought directly under the Archbishop’s authority, certain “superstitious” customs were anathematised, and the indigenous liturgy, the East Syrian Malabar rite, was purged of elements unacceptable by the Latin standards. Though the Thomas Christians were now formally part of the Catholic Church, the conduct of the Portuguese over the next decades fuelled resentment in parts of the community, ultimately leading to open resistance.
Matters came to a head in 1641 with the appointments of Francis Garcia as Archbishop of Kodungalloor (pro-Portuguese) and of Archdeacon Thomas, the nephew and successor of Archdeacon George. In 1652, the situation was further complicated by the arrival in India of a mysterious figure named Ahatallah.
Ahatallah arrived in Mylapore in 1652, claiming to be the rightful Patriarch of Antioch who had been sent by the pope to serve as Patriarch of the Whole of India and of China. He appears to have been a Syriac Orthodox (Oriental Orthodox) Bishop of Damascus who was converted to Catholicism and travelled to Rome in 1632. He then returned to Syria in order to bring the Syriac Orthodox Patriarch Ignatius Hidayat Allah into communion with Rome. He had not accomplished this by the time Hidayat Allah died in 1639, after which point Ahatallah began claiming he was Hidayat Allah’s rightful successor. In 1646 he was in Egypt at the court of the Coptic Pope Mark VI, who dispatched him to India in 1652, evidently in response to a request for aid from Archdeacon Thomas. Reckoning him an impostor, the Portuguese arrested him, but allowed him to meet members of the St Thomas Christian clergy, whom he impressed. The Portuguese put him on a ship bound for Cochin and Goa. Archdeacon Thomas led a militia to Cochin demanding to meet him. The Portuguese refused, asserting that he was a dangerous invader and that his ship had already sailed on to Goa.
Ahatallah was never heard from again in India, and rumours spread that Archbishop Garcia had had him drowned in Cochin harbour before he reached Goa, or burned at the stake. In reality, it appears that Ahatallah did reach Goa, was sent on to Europe and died in Paris before reaching Rome, where his case was to be heard. In any event, Garcia’s dismissiveness towards the Thomas Christians’ appeals only embittered the community further.
The dismissal of Ahatallah was the last straw for the Thomas Christians, and in 1653 Thomas and representatives of the community met at the Church of Our Lady in Mattancherry. In a ceremony in the churchyard, before a crucifix and lighted candles, they swore an oath that they would never obey Garcia or the Portuguese or Jesuit missionaries again, and that they accepted only the Archdeacon as their shepherd. The Malankara Church and all its successor churches regard this declaration, known as the Coonan Cross Oath (Malayalam: Koonan Kurishu Satyam), as the moment when their church regained its independence.
In the same year, in Alangad, Archdeacon Thomas was ordained, by the laying on of hands of twelve priests, as the first known indigenous Metropolitan of Kerala, under the name Mar Thoma I. Pope Alexander VII sent a Syrian bishop, Joseph Sebastiani, at the head of a Carmelite delegation, to convince a majority of the Thomas Christians that the consecration of the Archdeacon as metropolitan was illegitimate. Palliveettil Chandy Kathanar was consecrated as bishop for the East Syrian rite Catholics with the title The Metropolitan and the Gate of all India, denoting a quasi-patriarchal status with all-India jurisdiction, in communion with Rome.
This led to the first permanent split in the St Thomas Christian community. Thereafter, the faction affiliated with the Catholic Church was designated the Pazhayakuttukar or Old Party, while the branch affiliated with Mar Thoma was called the Puthankuttukar or New Party. These appellations were controversial, as both groups considered themselves the heirs to the St Thomas tradition, and saw the other as heretical.
Initially the terms Malankara Christians or Malankara Nasranis were applied to all Thomas Christians, but following the split the term was usually restricted to the faction loyal to Mar Thoma, distinguishing them from the Syrian Catholic faction.
Out of 116 churches, the Catholics claimed eighty-four and the Archdeacon Mar Thoma I thirty-two. The eighty-four churches and their congregations were the body from which the Syro-Malabar (East Syrian rite) Catholic Church descended. The thirty-two churches and their congregations were the body from which the Malankara Jacobite Syrian Christian Church and its offshoots have descended.
An Oriental Orthodox affiliation now replaced the old Nestorian one. In 1665, Mar Gregorios Abdul Jaleel, a Bishop sent by the Syriac Orthodox Patriarch of Antioch, arrived in India and the Thomas Christians under the leadership of the Archdeacon welcomed him. This visit resulted in the Mar Thoma party claiming the spiritual authority of the Antiochean Patriarchate and gradually introducing the West Syrian liturgy, customs and script to the Malabar Coast.
Jacobites or Syrian Jacobites is a reference to the Syriac Orthodox Church’s connections with a sixth-century bishop of Edessa, Jacob Baradaeus.
Over the next centuries this relationship strengthened, and the Malankara Church adopted a variant of the West Syrian rite known as the Malankara rite (as distinct from the previous East Syrian usage) and entered into full communion with the Syriac Orthodox Patriarch of Antioch. These affiliations seem to have been more matters of liturgy and hierarchy than Christology.
In 1912 a dispute over authority between supporters of the Metropolitan and supporters of the Patriarch divided the Malankara church, with the former group becoming the essentially independent Malankara Orthodox Syrian Church or Indian Orthodox Church under an autonomous Catholicos of the East, and the latter maintaining ties with the Patriarch as the Jacobite Syrian Christian Church.
Other groups that split from the main body of the Malankara Jacobite church:
The Thozhiyur Sabha, or Malabar Independent Syrian Church (1772). Independent. West Syrian rite.
The Malankara Mar Thoma Syrian Church (1835). Follows a variant of the West Syrian tradition.
The Syro-Malankara Catholic Church (1930). Re-entered into communion with the Catholic Church as an Eastern Catholic Church following the West Syrian liturgy. It and the larger Syro-Malabar Catholic Church (East Syrian rite) are among the 22 Eastern Catholic churches mentioned in the last post.
The St Thomas Evangelical Church of India (1961). Derives from a schism in the Malankara Mar Thoma Syrian Church.
The Nestorian connection survives in the Chaldean Syrian Church, an Indian archbishopric in the Nestorian Assyrian Church of the East (last post).
Syro-Malabar Catholic bishop Mar Mathew Arackal, Bishop of Kanjirappally Eparchy, holding the Mar Thoma Cross, which symbolises the heritage of St Thomas Christians even for Catholics, and other priests, at the tomb of the beatified Varghese Payyappilly Palakkappilly, St John Nepumsian Syrian Catholic Church, Konthuruthy, via Wikimedia Commons
A few years ago, I was taken into the San Thome Basilica in Chennai by a Hindu friend who crossed himself as he entered. India has been notoriously slow at adopting positions on anything in international diplomacy, which is perhaps a legacy of its standing in the Non-Aligned Movement. If it is seeking a global role now, it should be as the most complex partially-successful multicultural society on earth.
Anyone who has read the last two posts and followed their few links should now be able to answer the trivia questions:
What are the differences between the
Syriac Orthodox Church of Antioch
Assyrian Church of the East
Greek Patriarchate of Antioch and All the East and
Jacobite Syrian Christian Church?
What two churches are Chaldaean?
As night falls in Iraq, let’s look at Christianity there and at eastern Christianity generally.
The autocephalous Orthodox (Eastern Orthodox) churches (Greece, Russia, etc) accept the formulation on the nature of Christ promulgated at the Council of Chalcedon (451). They mainly use two liturgies in the Byzantine rite: those of St John Chrysostom and of St Basil the Great (Basil of Caesarea). The main liturgical languages are Greek and Church Slavonic.
The Oriental Orthodox churches reject the Chalcedonian formulation. They are in full communion with each other, but not with the Orthodox churches. They include the Coptic Church.
There are 22 Eastern Catholic churches: autonomous, self-governing particular churches in communion with Rome. Together with the Latin Church, they make up the entire Catholic Church. (They include the Armenian Catholic Church, Greek Byzantine Catholic Church, Melkite Greek Catholic Church, Maronite Church, Chaldean Catholic Church, Syriac Catholic Church and Coptic Catholic Church.) The Melkite Greek Catholic Church uses the Byzantine rite. Its liturgical language is Arabic. The Maronite Church and Syriac Catholic Church use the East Syrian rite. Their liturgical language is Syriac, a modern version of Aramaic. There are other combinations.
The Nestorian church survives in the Church of the East.
Iraqi Christians are divided into:
Oriental Orthodox, or the Syriac Orthodox Church of Antioch (West Syrian rite)
Catholics, the Chaldean Catholic Church (East Syrian rite) and Syriac Catholic Church (West Syrian rite)
Nestorians, or the Assyrian Church of the East (from which the Ancient Church of the East is a split dating from 1968) (East Syrian rite).
I mentioned the Yazidi of Iraq here and here. Their religion blends elements of Mithraism, pre-Islamic Mesopotamian religious traditions, Christianity and Islam. Toynbee commits a common howler by saying that they worship Satan, a myth that is perpetuated by their persecutors in the Islamic State.
I will do a separate post on Indian churches.
S Rozhdestvom! (lists the autocephalous Eastern Orthodox churches)
Ottoman people and Orthodox churches (lists the Oriental Orthodox churches)
Back August 9.
“The lamps are going out all over Europe, we shall not see them lit again in our life-time.”
“A friend came to see me on one of the evenings of the last week – he thinks it was on Monday, August 3rd. We were standing at a window of my room in the Foreign Office. It was getting dusk, and the lamps were being lit in the space below on which we were looking. My friend recalls that I remarked on this with the words: ‘The lamps are going out all over Europe, we shall not see them lit again in our life-time.’”
“I had two short talks with Grey during the ‘twelve days [July 24 to August 4].’ I ran into him on the stairs of the Foreign Office on Saturday, August 1st [...]. I saw him again late in the evening at his room at the Foreign Office on Monday, August 3rd, and it was to me he used the words which he has repeated in his book, ‘The lamps are going out all over Europe, and we shall not see them lit again in our lifetime.’ We were standing together at the window looking out into the sunset across St. James’s Park, and the appearance of the first lights along the Mall suggested the thought.”
On August 1 1914, Germany (which was allied with Austria-Hungary) had declared war against Russia (which was allied with Serbia). On the 3rd it declared war against France. Britain entered the war against Germany on the 4th, after it received an “unsatisfactory reply” regarding Belgian neutrality.
“On Sunday – just four weeks after the murder by Servian [sic] assassins [Princip was a Bosnian Serb] of the Austrian Heir-Apparent and his wife in Sarajevo – Europe was suddenly confronted with the fear of a great war on a scale of unprecedented magnitude, involving loss of life and a destruction of all that we associate with modern civilisation too vast to be counted or calculated, and portending horrors so appalling that the imagination shrinks from the task.”
A city can [...] become holy through having been the scene of a transcendent spiritual experience, whether authentic or legendary. For instance, Jerusalem is a holy city for Muslims because the Prophet Muhammad believed that this was the place where, on “the Night of Power”, he had ascended into Heaven and re-descended to Earth. The most tragic of all possible events in a prophet’s life is martyrdom, and the holiness of the scene of a martyrdom is enhanced if the martyr has been buried in the same place. The crucifixion and burial of Jesus in Jerusalem are the two events in Jesus’s history that have made Jerusalem a holy city for Christians.
Why is Jerusalem a holy city for Muslims today? Because it was a holy city for the Prophet Muhammad; and it was holy for him because of its long-established holiness for Christians and Jews – “the People of the Book” who enjoyed religious prestige in Muhammad’s eyes in virtue of their having been previous recipients of divine revelation. This is why Muhammad originally instructed his followers to face towards Jerusalem when they were saying their prayers, and it is also why, in his mind, Jerusalem was the place from which he ascended to Heaven and to which he re-descended on “the Night of Power”.
Why is Jerusalem a holy city for Christians today? Because it was a holy city for Jesus. It was holy for him because he was an orthodox Jew, and he was observing the Jewish Law, as this stood in his day, when he went from his native Galilee to Jerusalem to celebrate the Passover there in the year in which he was crucified and was buried outside Jerusalem’s city-wall.
Why is Jerusalem a holy city for Jews? Because King Josiah of Judah (circa 640-610 B.C.) [meaning reigned] centralized in Jerusalem all acts of worship in his kingdom and put all other places of worship there out of commission.
Moses and Joshua conquered Canaan, the Promised Land. The Hebrews were often subject to the coastal Philistines and were ruled by Judges until c 1000 B.C.
The prophet Samuel, florebat from c 1050 BC, was the last judge of Israel and the first of the prophets after Moses. His judgeship was dominated by war with the Philistines, who captured Moses’ Ark of the Covenant. In his old age he agreed, at divine request, to the establishment of a king; he thus anointed Saul and remained chief prophet during Saul’s reign. In this role he also anointed David, a shepherd, who was from the Jewish tribe of Judah.
Saul was succeeded by David and then by Solomon. After the expansionist reign of Solomon (c 970-928 BC), the kingdom broke up into two states: Israel, with its capital at Samaria, and Judah, under the house of David, with its capital at Jerusalem. Josiah was of the house of David.
When the “eternal” Davidic dynasty failed after four centuries, it formed the basis for the Jewish belief in the Messiah.
Why did Josiah carry out this act of cultural synoecism (to use an Hellenic term of constitutional art)? Because Jerusalem was the capital city of the Kingdom of Judah in Josiah’s day. Why was Jerusalem the capital of Judah? Because, at an early date in the tenth century B.C., David [of the united Israelite kingdom] had conquered and annexed the Canaanite city-state of Jerusalem and had made this city the capital of his kingdom, which included not only Judah but Israel. After the irruption of the Israelites and Judahites into Palestine circa 1200 B.C., this Canaanite city-state had maintained its independence for about two hundred years in between the Israelite invaders to the north of it and the Judahite invaders to the south.
The Judahites were one of the twelve tribes of the Israelites: he must be referring to the split that led to the formation of the two states. How did each of the twelve tribes align themselves in this?
It will be seen that the holiness of Jerusalem is paradoxical. It was the last piece of Canaanite territory to be acquired by the Judahite worshippers of Yahweh, yet it became the only place in Judah where the worship of Yahweh was allowed, and it acquired this cultural monopoly because, after its annexation to Judah, it had been made the capital of the Judahite state.
The two kingdoms were later conquered by expanding Mesopotamian states, Israel by Assyria (c 720 BC) and Judah by Babylonia (586 BC). The Babylonians destroyed the Temple at Jerusalem and held the Jews captive in Babylon.
Why is modern Israel called Israel, not Judah (House of David), when Jerusalem gained so much more prestige than Samaria?
The history of the City of Jerusalem since the liquidation of the Kingdom of Judah has been as kaleidoscopic as the history of Rome since the disintegration of the Roman Empire. When, in 538 B.C., the Babylonian Empire was liquidated in its turn by the Persians, Jerusalem became a non-sovereign temple-state [the Jews returned from their Babylonian captivity and the temple was rebuilt], and it retained this status under the successive Persian, Ptolemaic, and Seleucid regimes till the second quarter of the second century B.C. A Hellenizing party among the Judaean Jews then attempted to transform the Jerusalem temple-state into a city-state on the Hellenic pattern. This led to a domestic Judaean Jewish conflict between Hellenizers and conservatives, and to a consequent collision between conservative Jewish religious and political nationalists and the Seleucid Imperial Government. The break-up of the Seleucid Empire enabled the [anti-Greek] Hasmonaean leaders of the Jewish nationalist movement to turn the Jerusalem temple-state into a Palestinian Jewish miniature empire of the kind that Pope Martin V and his successors carved out in Central Italy in and after the fifteenth century of the Christian Era. The Hasmonaean Empire was cut back to the dimensions of its nucleus, the Jerusalem temple-state, by the intervention of the Roman war-lord Pompey in 63 B.C. The sequel was a head-on collision between the Palestinian Jewish community and the Roman Empire; the destruction of Jerusalem by the Romans in A.D. 70; the foundation, on the vacant site, of a Graeco-Roman city, Aelia Capitolina; and the eviction of the Jews from all parts of Palestine except Galilee.
Pompey conquered Palestine in 63 BC, but the state survived until 37 BC with a loss of autonomy. From 37 BC to AD 92 the Roman province of Judaea (Judea) was ruled by puppet kings of the Romans, the Herodian Dynasty, a Jewish dynasty from Idumea.
When the Jews revolted in AD 66, the Romans destroyed the Temple (AD 70). The foundation of Aelia Capitolina led to another revolt between AD 132 and 135, led by Bar Kokhba, which was also suppressed. Jericho and Bethlehem were destroyed, and the Jews were barred from most of Palestine.
At the moment of writing, in October 1969, a new Jerusalem, outside Aelia Capitolina’s western wall, was the capital of the post-Second-World-War state of Israel, while the Old City which contains the Jewish, Christian, and Muslim holy places was a piece of Jordanian territory under the Israelis’ military occupation. Since 1929 it has looked as if the relations between the Vatican City, the rest of the City of Rome, and the Italian national state have become stabilized; but in 1969 the future of the two parts of the City of Jerusalem was still unpredictable.
The Muslim Dome of the Rock stands on the Temple Mount in East Jerusalem, territory which Israel re-occupied in 1967; it is the site where any Third Temple would be built
Cities on the Move, OUP, 1970
I have referred to a US edition.
One should resist jumping on bandwagons, including the current anti-Israel one. But the five posts preceding this one have links to posts by Robin Yassin-Kassab that are worth reading and thinking about.
“Eighty percent of people in Gaza are descendants of refugees ethnically cleansed from their villages and towns by Zionist militias in 1947 and 1948.” Gaza is five miles wide and twenty-seven miles long and contains nearly two million people. “The settlers of southern Israel do not have the right to live without fear of attack while the original inhabitants of southern Israel are herded into refugee camps.” Source.
“Whatever the Western media calls them, the illegal Jewish settlements on the West Bank are very far from being outposts. They are connected to Jerusalem and Tel Aviv by fast, Jews-only motorways. Their villas have swimming pools and lawns (a settler is allocated eight times more water than a Palestinian). Even the most recent and far-flung of settlements are tooled-up enough to intimidate the Arabs on whose land they encroach.” Source.
Unless Jordan (or a lot more than Jordan) is redefined, the solution is one state. What an inspiring idea that is. All partitions are miserable failures. There is no realistically possible two-state solution in the occupied areas. And one state is impossible while religious fundamentalists rule in the US and in Israel. But there is hope, because Israel, now an ethnocracy, is a remarkable society. Y-K: “Jews and Arabs could be friends again, and more than friends.”
I know only two things about Palestinians from my personal experience. They are careful about distinguishing between the Zionist state and Jews. They are not natural haters. This is not Ireland or the Balkans. And they do not incline towards religious extremism. Hamas is committed to the destruction of the Zionist state, not to exterminating Jews. But all slogans can be forgotten when a situation normalises.
I say this despite the pictures we had of Palestinians joyfully celebrating 9/11 and despite some obvious political immaturity (see popularity in the middle east of conspiracy theories passim).
Israel needs to revise its propaganda manuals: the same words are used by every spokesman. They like to kill, we do not. Human shields. Etc.
Y-K hasn’t written much on Palestine recently. More on Syria and Iraq. He’s an Orwell. I once called his blog a university of the middle east. The best thing about it is that it often reminds us that Islam has sources of reform and renewal within its own past and in its present. (Jettisoning some of the dead weight of hadith might be a start.) It will not be hijacked forever, and isn’t being hijacked everywhere now, by barbarians who exploit the world’s ignorant and disoriented.
Reform and renewal not only of itself. It can offer the rest of us much too.
But this is a long way away. Why did I instinctively react against Simon Sebag Montefiore’s intermittently impressive Jerusalem, The Biography? The whole two-state camp loved it.
First, though I constantly praise (albeit with my slightly retro bias) intelligent popularising history, the book had a Time magazine feel. He is simply not qualified to write the whole story. Arnold Toynbee might have been. Few others. But good to have tried.
The problem was the readership. The readers were not qualified to read a book by a man not qualified to write it. The Clintons and Blairs, who took it as pretend, photo-op reading on their summer holidays, rejoiced to discover that the “region” had been the scene of massacres from the beginning.
Perhaps Y-K can recommend a better book. Montefiore seems not to notice, when quoting Stephen Graham, that Kyrie eleison does not mean Christ is risen.
Odd, in a way, to write a C major symphony in 1940. Having juxtaposed Stravinsky and one arch-conservative, Rabaud, let’s put him next to Hans Pfitzner now. Pfitzner, born 1869, returns to his romantic roots, defying the twentieth century, as he had not quite done, for example, in his C sharp minor symphony of 1932, in a 1940 symphony in C.
Allegro moderato, Adagio, Presto. Premiere October 11 1940, I presume in Berlin. Performers here not stated. Pfitzner recorded it with the Berlin Philharmonic, as did Furtwängler with the Vienna Philharmonic, but this isn’t either of those:
Here’s the Stravinsky Symphony in C (he began it in 1938). Moderato alla breve, Larghetto concertante, Allegretto, Largo – Tempo giusto, alla breve. Premiere November 7 1940, Chicago Symphony Orchestra under Stravinsky. This is Solti with the same orchestra:
Thanks to the intuition of the discordant oligarchs of an oasis-state in the Hijāz, who had invited the rejected prophet of a rival community to make himself at home with them and try his hand at being their ruler, in the hope that he would bring them the concord which they had failed to attain by themselves, Yathrib became, within thirty years of the Hijrah, the capital of an empire embracing not only the former Roman dominions in Syria and Egypt but the entire domain of the former Sasanian Empire. [Footnote: Ibn Khaldūn suggests that the Primitive Muslim Arabs’ success in conquering the whole of the Sasanian Empire was a consequence of their conquest of the Sasanian imperial capital Ctesiphon, and that their contemporary failure to conquer more than a portion of the Roman Empire was a consequence of their inability to conquer the Roman imperial capital Constantinople (see the Muqaddamāt, translated by de Slane, Baron McG, (Paris 1863-8, Imprimerie Impériale, 3 vols.), vol. i, p. 333).] Yathrib’s title to remain the seat of government for this vast realm was indisputable on its juridical merits. This remote oasis-state was the territorial nucleus out of which the Muslim Arab world-empire had burgeoned in its miraculously rapid growth, and it was now also hallowed as Madīnat-an-Nabī, the City of the Prophet which had recognized his mission and had furnished him with home, throne, and sepulchre. This title was so impressive that de jure Medina remained the capital of the Caliphate at any rate until the foundation of Baghdad by the ʿAbbasid Caliph Mansūr in A.D. 762. Yet de facto the swiftly expanding dominions of the Prophet Muhammad and his successors were governed from Medina for no longer than thirty-four years; for the fact was that this oasis hidden away in the interior of the Arabian Plateau – a vaster, wilder, barer, emptier counterpart of the Plateau of Iran – had condemned itself to political nullity by the immensity of its political success.
A Study of History, Vol VII, OUP, 1954
History Today has the wrong kind of online back issue archive. The Times has done it right.
Most publications do it wrong. What about The Tablet? Its archive, going back to its foundation – 1840, midway between Catholic emancipation and the restoration of the hierarchy – is important. It has an additional interest for me because of a family connection.
It, too, gives us OCRd text full of scanning errors. It generously says that it hopes to eliminate all of them in time. But this an impossible task. And why show OCRd text at all? The Times doesn’t present a single word like this, but offers high-resolution, generously-sized, fully-searchable images of original pages and articles.
The Tablet then tries to make up for the scanning mess – which is more than History Today does – by giving us rather mean little sub-windows onto the original printed pages. They don’t show enough and are awkward to navigate. To navigate an article in The Times, you don’t slide it around within a sub-window in your screen. Your screen is the window.
3 out of 10. A pity, because this is a major resource. The Tablet, again generously, makes it available to non-subscribers.