Whatever, Stuart.The historiographical question Chris raised in last week's lecture, regarding the social 'respectability' of bandits and outlaws, is an interesting one. There have, of course, always been flamboyant robbers, and flouters of mercantile or revenue laws, in almost every society and at every time in recorded history--the archetypes of the highwayman and the pirate seem to have particular resonance in the British popular consciousness, for example. Yet it does seem that it's only during certain periods and under certain conditions that these types of criminal can be come widely admired and storied amongst the general public. I'm going to run with Dr Norton's historical examples, albeit in a more general sense, to illustrate why that might be the case.
For a start, the story of Robin Hood was not unique by any means. During the late 14th and early 15th centuries, such tales were circulated widely amongst the peasant classes (although they wouldn't be written down and romanticised for the edification of the nascent middle class until at least the 1450s). It's not hard to find any number of reasons why. The period in which 'Robyn Hode' was purportedly active--the mid-1300s--going into the period of such stories' actual popularisation--the early 1400s--covers the final throes of the English feudal monarchy's irreversible decline. As if the spiralling governmental corruption, incompetence and brutality of the times weren't bad enough, during those 3-4 generations the Kingdom not only endured the worst natural disaster in its history but also fought several ill-advised, grisly and vastly expensive wars in both foreign and domestic theatres. It wasn't just merchants and landowners who were fed up, and becoming far less afraid of saying so: peasants were also increasingly aware of the system's inadequacies and injustices, and increasingly aware of their ruling classes' crumbling power base. All across western Europe, the feudal monarchies were being shown up as exhausted, politically bankrupt, and most importantly, manifestly incapable of maintaining the basis and justification for their authority: that of the security of the lands and peoples under their rule.
Fast-forward to the early 1930s, then. Forget all the specious media comparisons and electioneering bullshit concerning the current international investment recession: it's pretty much impossible for anyone who didn't live through the Great Depression¹ to accurately envision what it was like. We're talking 1 in 4 people of working age unemployed in America by 1933 (and things were even grimmer elsewhere--with far grimmer results). People weren't just losing faith in specific politicians or even national governments; some seriously believed that the entire Western hemisphere was heading into a terminal socio-economic inferno, especially given the recent political 'apotheosis' of the world's other continental power. The vast majority of the population were genuinely frightened for their livelihoods and futures; and, as a consequence, genuinely pissed off at both the financial systems that had precipitated the crisis, and the governments that had proven hopelessly ineffectual in their attempts to stabilise it. It's not surprising that the kind of gangsters and outlaws Chris mentioned in class flourished under these conditions, and it's equally unsurprising that so many people perceived their crimes as 'striking back' against the authorities and interests that had betrayed the nation into economic disaster.
That's what I think, anyway. When the majority of people feel secure and validated in their socio-economic milieux, bandits are reviled as predatory sociopaths whose crimes are unforgivable transgressions against the common interest. But when enough people get fed up with rampant misgovernment and hard times, bandits may well become the dashing champions of the downtrodden underclass.
It says far more about the rest of us than it does about the criminals themselves.
¹ Usually dated '1930-39'; I think that delineation is eminently debatable, but maybe not in this blog.
For a start, the story of Robin Hood was not unique by any means. During the late 14th and early 15th centuries, such tales were circulated widely amongst the peasant classes (although they wouldn't be written down and romanticised for the edification of the nascent middle class until at least the 1450s). It's not hard to find any number of reasons why. The period in which 'Robyn Hode' was purportedly active--the mid-1300s--going into the period of such stories' actual popularisation--the early 1400s--covers the final throes of the English feudal monarchy's irreversible decline. As if the spiralling governmental corruption, incompetence and brutality of the times weren't bad enough, during those 3-4 generations the Kingdom not only endured the worst natural disaster in its history but also fought several ill-advised, grisly and vastly expensive wars in both foreign and domestic theatres. It wasn't just merchants and landowners who were fed up, and becoming far less afraid of saying so: peasants were also increasingly aware of the system's inadequacies and injustices, and increasingly aware of their ruling classes' crumbling power base. All across western Europe, the feudal monarchies were being shown up as exhausted, politically bankrupt, and most importantly, manifestly incapable of maintaining the basis and justification for their authority: that of the security of the lands and peoples under their rule.
Fast-forward to the early 1930s, then. Forget all the specious media comparisons and electioneering bullshit concerning the current international investment recession: it's pretty much impossible for anyone who didn't live through the Great Depression¹ to accurately envision what it was like. We're talking 1 in 4 people of working age unemployed in America by 1933 (and things were even grimmer elsewhere--with far grimmer results). People weren't just losing faith in specific politicians or even national governments; some seriously believed that the entire Western hemisphere was heading into a terminal socio-economic inferno, especially given the recent political 'apotheosis' of the world's other continental power. The vast majority of the population were genuinely frightened for their livelihoods and futures; and, as a consequence, genuinely pissed off at both the financial systems that had precipitated the crisis, and the governments that had proven hopelessly ineffectual in their attempts to stabilise it. It's not surprising that the kind of gangsters and outlaws Chris mentioned in class flourished under these conditions, and it's equally unsurprising that so many people perceived their crimes as 'striking back' against the authorities and interests that had betrayed the nation into economic disaster.
That's what I think, anyway. When the majority of people feel secure and validated in their socio-economic milieux, bandits are reviled as predatory sociopaths whose crimes are unforgivable transgressions against the common interest. But when enough people get fed up with rampant misgovernment and hard times, bandits may well become the dashing champions of the downtrodden underclass.
It says far more about the rest of us than it does about the criminals themselves.
¹ Usually dated '1930-39'; I think that delineation is eminently debatable, but maybe not in this blog.
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