Agricola's methods

Tacitus provides us in his analysis of Agricola's role as governor in Britain with a template for how he, Tacitus, thought that Rome should carry out its government. He was keenly aware of the vulnerability of Rome's position: like most empires up to our own day, the Romans maintained very few soldiers in the countries they occupied when compared to the vast multitudes that those soldiers held in check (Mattingley ed Agricola para 15). Hence empire always was in part a confidence trick, an imposition upon the 'native' population that they beleived was both in their own interest and also not in their interest to overthrow. Tacitus gives us some examples of how Romans before Agricola subued the Britons, using Cogidubnus (Mattingley ed Agricola para 14) a local King to maintain discipline or with military victories either by Caesar, Claudius or later commanders. But Tacitus leaves us in no doubt that a subtler analysis is needed of the ways that peace could be maintained- for him no less than for us the Roman empire was a vast problematic. Indeed his purpose went further for having discovered, thanks to the reigns of Galba and Vitellius, the enormous power of the Roman army, it was also the historian's purpose to detect how the Roman army retained discipline. Rome rode two tigers- the army and the province- and Tacitus's story in Agricola is a story about how one governor at one point in time managed to subdue both.

Tacitus defines what Agricola offered to the Britons in terms that we have already seen. An enfeebled populace was less likely to resist the imposition of Roman power- taught to be slaves, the Britons like the Gauls or even the Italians before them might learn to enjoy and yearn for the imperial yoke. Tacitus understood this: he tells us that in the winter months Agricola took time to plan amenities as he 'had to deal with a people living in isolation and ignorance and therefore prone to fight. His object was to accustom them to a life of peace' (Mattingley ed. Agricola para 21). Agricola was brutal with those that opposed him and yet with those that supported him he was clement (Mattingley ed. Agricola para 20). He sought to bring the Britons into the world of Rome, hoping to corrupt them from their military valour. Tacitus stresses that this came alongside good governance and a cultural education, Agricola sought to wipe out the British tongue replacing it with Latin and to get the sons of chieftans to take places in his court. He sought to replace a martial scale of value with a peaceful one- a British definition of patriotism with a Roman one. For Tacitus this process of cultural assimilation to the norms of peace from the virtues of barbaric independence was the means by which Rome's colonies survived- it was also as he commented elsewhere the means by which her armies became effeminate and eventually tossed by the ambition of the Caesars.

The Education of Charles I

From Plato onwards people have believed that if you educate someone they absorb the knowledge and then that brings them the basis of knowledge that they use for the rest of their life. The truth is very different. Charles I (1600-49, r. 1625-49) illustrates the point. The popular idea of Charles is not wrong: basically Charles was anti-Calvinist and anti-Parliamentarian. He was influenced by people like William Laud, they did not agree with Calvinists about predestination. Predestination is the Calvinist doctrine that salvation was decided before you were born. But Charles was educated as a Calvinist. Charles's other famous predisposition was as a man who hated Parliaments and again there is some truth to it. Richard Cust's new biography of Charles suggests that Charles disliked negotiating with Parliament. But Charles had more experience than any other English monarch before him in Parliament: he sat in 63 of the 89 sessions of the House of Lords in 1621 as Prince of Wales. Charles was as Benjamin Rudyerd said a 'Prince bred in Parliaments' and yet, unlike his father who had no experience of English Parliaments before coming to the crown, Charles was unable to sympathise with his MPs and the House of Lords, making misjudgement after misjudgement in his handling of them.

So did Charles not take anything from his education? He definitely does not seem to have taken John Preston, the Pope of Puritanism, lectures about Calvinism seriously. Henry Burton, another of Charles's teachers, ended up earless after an incautious anti-bishop pamphlet in the 1630s. So what did Charles take from his teachers? He may not have taken their theology but he did take their strong interest in providence- their belief that God directed the world. Charles beleived that God punished him through his misfortunes in the late 1640s because he had deserted his friends in the early 40s- particularly the Earl of Strafford. Charles believed that you should not adjust your beliefs to the times- you should, in his view, stick to your views no matter what the political moment suggested. Again his teachers would have been unhappy with the view he wanted to stick to, but happy with his stubborn affection to what he saw as God's will. Despite Charles's inability to see other people's points of view, he tragically did believe in Parliament- he just didn't believe that they were forums to criticise him, but forums which should give him supply in return for his benificent acknowledgement of their greivances.

What Charles's education did for him was not to give him a base of knowledge or ideas but a set of mindsets. The main thing- the most important thing that emerged for Charles from his education was a sense of insecurity relating to his father. His father kept him away from politics until the early twenties, overawed the young Prince with his intelligence and isolated him socially: Charles's prickliness, in Cust's view, partly came out of this early experience. Education is emotional and about mindset. Noone comes up against the same problems as they were educated to deal with: what education does is equip you to deal with the new problems that you face when your education finishes.

Liberal Fascism?

Keith Flett reviews Jonah Goldberg's 'history' of liberal fascism here. The review is ultimately fair minded- it calls attention to the main flaw and virtue of Goldberg's text. Goldberg is seeking to argue that there is a genetic link between fascism and American liberalism. There are two main problems with such an argument. The first is, as Flett points out, Goldberg is not much of a historian- he is a journalist and an ideologue but not a historian. He is not atuned to nuance, leaves the parts of the past that complicate his theory out of his account and does not really make sense of what happened in Germany and Italy (or even ask whether there is such a thing as fascism). The second that Flett does not draw out is that Goldberg's argument repeats a fallacy: that the genetics of ideas imply influence- the same two people can see what seems to be the same truth at different points in time and not be influencing each other at all. Liberalism may share features with fascism (a strong state) but so does conservatism (a strong nation) and both have shared features with it (a state that can take coercive action in wartime). The two points mean that Goldberg's argument is useless to anyone seeking to establish the historical context of fascism and the historical relationship between LIberalism and Fascism.

But Flett is right to say that Goldberg's book is good political polemic- it is knock about stuff like Goldberg's columns which are fun to agree with or to be outraged by. There is a point that Goldberg does not make but Flett does, that at its best this book defends conservatives from the accusation that they are fascists. Fascists afterall were a lot of things conservatives are not (disrespectful to tradition and religion, to law and the free market)- though they shared certain dispositions (towards the nation, towards the ruling class, against communism). The point that Hillary Clinton is a fascist is laughable if ingenious. Goldberg's position in interviews has emerged as slightly more subtle- implicating all of us in the fascist enterprise rather than in allying his liberal opponents with a boo word. But Flett gets something that Goldberg does not in the book but Goldberg's argument implies- boo words may not be that useful in politics. The book liberal fascism may destroy the argument that liberals or conservatives are 'fascists'- hardly surprising when liberals and conservatives are really 'liberals' or 'conservatives'.

Lastly there is an area in which Goldberg's analysis is dangerous in a European context and an American- and that has to do with the real fascists, people like the BNP who deride a 'liberal elite' made up of both conservatives and liberals. Making the word 'fascist' in any sense a 'liberal' word ends up by empowering the extremes of European politics who would like nothing better than to separate themselves from their pasts. We should have a moratorium on calling people fascists unless their name is Gianfranco Fini, Nick Griffin or Ugo Voigt. Fascism is not a purely idle word: it describes a genocidal reality that exists outside of the boundaries of normal politics- a type of politics that if we do not guard against it, risks plunging us back in some of the worst excesses and crimes of the twentieth century.

Mesrine: Killer Instinct

Some films just look good. It is hard not to love the look of Casino with DeNiro and Stone looking fantastic- its hard not to savour the beauty of Grace Kelly and grace of Cary Grant in To Catch a Thief. Films that look good seduce you with their aspect- we all know that we are more likely to evaluate something well if it looks like it is beautiful. In that sense, my bias towards Mesrine should be obvious. Vincent Cassell could stand in for any of the cast in Goodfellas. Cecile de France seductively motions him over in a bar with cool sensuality. Elena Anaya sees through the man but falls for him. The actors are like a list of the great stars of France- Cassel, de France, Ludivine Sagnier, Gerard Depardieu- and the decor is done absolutely right as well with casinos and prisons, the first in opulent style, the second in all its magnificent grimy terror. This is a film that looks as though a million dollars was spent on it and I would not be surprised if it wins awards for cinematography, dress and style. But leaving that aside what is it like as a film?

Jacques Mesrine was a horrible man- he was guilty of murders, thefts and other assorted crimes- there can be no condoning his brand of violent thuggery and as such a film about him has to tread a narrow line. It must make the character interesting enough for an audience to want to spend two hours with, but must also leave you in no doubt as to the real horrors that he perpetrated. You must see the attraction that many people felt but also feel the repulsion of the moral scandal that that attraction represents. To watch a film about Mesrine is to feel a dual impulse- one towards him and a reflective one away from him. Many films about crime are based around this dual impulse- Goodfellas is an example of a film that lures you in, making you see why the gangster life might be attractive but then exposes it for what it really is, brutal and harsh. Mesrine Killer Instinct is not so interested in that dichotomy. It is there: as I commented the film is beautiful and the beauty is attractive. A girlfriend as good looking as De France or Seigner, a suit as sharp as Mesrine's and a mentor as wise as Depardieu are all things that one might look for in life: and the other side too is probed, we see Mesrine's mindless violence and brutality. We see him put a gun inside his wife's throat as their baby son watches- we see him bury someone alive- but the connection between the two is not drawn.

So what is the film really about? This I suppose is where my problem with the film comes in. There were gun battles and sexy dames gallor- but I still cannot work out what the film was saying, what story of Mesrine it was presenting. In part this is because the story was not allowed enough time to develop- in a desire to tell to the full a life which circumnavigated the globe, from Algeria, to Paris and thence to Toronto, the film maker has forgotten to allow his audience to catch up. Mesrine's women were a blur of sexy dresses, his career a blur of shootouts and allies. Hopefully in part 2 of the film whcih covers the last couple of years of his life, the director can slow down, but part 1 definitely felt too fast. The charisma of the actors also detracted from the film. Cassell is wonderful as Mesrine- De France commands a screen as does Depardieu and we could go on, but the problem with commanding cameos is that they leave very little space for the film to develop as a whole. Instead we have little sections- it feels like the Bonzo Dog Doo Dah single, the Intro and Outro, where every band member joined, to Stanshall's commentary, for a bar- 'and now we have Gerard Depardieu as a ganster, and now we have Cecile de France as a whore, the Marx Brothers on the xylophone' etc etc. Films need a consistency and a theme- they need like a piece of music to have a strain running through them that integrates the parts into a whole.

There are ideas embedded in the film. Mesrine might have been the product of his service in Algeria for the French elite corps of torturers. He might have been the product of his relationship with his collaborationist dad and his dominant mother. He might have been the product of a couple of bad friendships but though those ideas are mentioned, they are not developed, once noted they are forgotten. The only strand which holds the movie together is the charisma of Cassell's performance- it provides the continuity. The film ultimately does not have a point because its only point is his magnetism: what it does have though is the qualities of his magnetism and that of the other stars who circle him. Rather than damning its failure, we should recognise what it does have- a smart sheen and good performances- it is no more or less than a pretty film.

Keats said 'Beauty is truth and truth beauty'- in this case the identity does not work, but I don't think it is an unworthy film to see and hopefully a less hurried part 2 will explain and justify the prettiness of part 1.