Sunday, 16 April 2023

Ydwyr And Desai

A Circus of Hells, CHAPTER SEVENTEEN.

In conversation with Dominic Flandry in A Knight of Ghosts and Shadows, Chunderban Desai outlines a theory of civilizational and Imperial decline. Desai thinks that the Merseians know this theory and have based their inter-imperial policies on it. In conversation with Djana, Ydwyr confirms this:

"'The breakdown of legitimate authority into weakness or oppression - which are two aspects of the same thing, the change of Hands into Heads - is a late stage of the fatal disease.' (p. 331)

Legitimate Imperial succession has not been lost when Ydwyr speaks to Djana but will have been when Desai speaks to Flandry. In Eriau terminology, the usurper, Molitor, is a Head as against a Hand. Meanwhile, during Flandry's career, we see many examples of weakness and oppression. 

Desai thinks that Merseia might also be decadent although Ydwyr does not consider this possibility. Merseians of the Roidhunate expect an uninterrupted ascent.

Brechdan Ironrede:

"'...the highest end of all - absolute freedom for our race, to make of the galaxy what they will.'"
-Ensign Flandry, CHAPTER THREE, p. 27.

Ydwyr the Seeker:

"'...our endeavor is, ultimately, to impose Will on blind Nature and Chance.'"
-A Circus of Hells, ibid.

I agree with Ydwyr's formulation provided (which, of course, he does not mean) that it is by multi-species cooperation, not by Merseian domination.

I think that the Merseian decline begins with the disappointment felt by Tachwyr the Dark at the end of The Game of Empire. They have lost Aycharaych and the last scheme that he had bequeathed to them has been thwarted.

6 comments:

Sean M. Brooks said...

Kaor, Paul!

I missed that interesting nuance in my previous readings of A CIRCUS OF HELLS, that the legitimate reigning Emperor in that story, Georgios, was a "Hand" while the usurper we see later, Hans Molitor, was a "Head." I remember being puzzled those other times, because it was not how humans would have formulated it.

Ad astra! Sean

S.M. Stirling said...

I think that's a little hard on Hans. He didn't -want- to be Emperor; he reluctantly let his personnel hail him because the alternative was destructive chaos.

Note that the Roman Empire's problem with legitimacy was that it was a monarchy whose culture was anti-monarchical.

This built a weakness into its structure; its first monarch was, and was -known- to be, a successful warlord.

Hence the fact that anyone who could seize the throne would be in pretty much the same position as the first Augustus.

To work well, a monarchy requires a very strong sense of dynastic legitimacy.

Europe developed this in the early medieval period. You couldn't just seize the throne; note that even with very weak and demonstrably incompetent monarchs, the pattern was for a cabal of nobles to come to power and rule -through- the incompetent monarch, rather than trying to replace him.

Eg,, Henry VI in England.

Sean M. Brooks said...

Kaor, Mr. Stirling!

I have to agree, I was a bit too hard on Hans Molitor, the reluctant usurper.

Yes, it was a grave weakness that the Roman Empire lacked a strong sense of dynastic legitimacy. And a tradition of ministers of state quietly "managing" incompetent Emperors.

Henry III, Edward II, and Edward VI were other examples of English monarchs being used by cabals of courtiers ruling thru them. And that was also true of Richard II, during his minority.

Ad astra! Sean

S.M. Stirling said...

The consequence of the tradition of dynastic legitimacy was that anyone who tried to actually seize the throne without a hereditary claim simply wouldn't be obeyed; everyone would turn on him.

The start was the Germanic tradition of monarchy, where legitimacy went with the line of blood originally traceable to divine origins.

(Though there's an old joke that: X, son of Y, son of Z, son of a God" meant "and who -his- father was, God only knows.)

The drawback of the Germanic system was that anyone in the male line (even illegitimate children) could stake a claim. Outsiders couldn't, but there were more than enough in-family rivalries.

The idea of dynastic primogeniture through a legitimate marriage came in a bit after Christianization, IIRC. This added to the "anointed monarch" bit, where the Church sanctified successions.

Note how the Duke of Monmouth, although it was universally admitted that Charles II was his father, failed dismally to rally much support against James II, even though James' Catholicism was deeply unpopular.

He was illegitimate and that was enough -- even though he (falsely) claimed a secret marriage between Charles and his mother Lucy Walker.

William of Orange managed it, but only because his wife was a -legitimate- child of James II.

And because James had managed to make himself very broadly unpopular, something for which he had a gift.

Sean M. Brooks said...

Kaor, Mr. Stirling!

I agree, the post-Roman European tradition of strong dynastic legitimacy goes back to Germanic origins.

Yes, James II had many good qualities, but he was hopeless when it came to politics. Given the rampant anti-Catholic bigotry of his times, it was dangerous for a Catholic to be king. James would have needed to be much more wily and adroit than he was to pull that off.

Btw, William III also had a dynastic to the British crown thru his mother, a sister of Charles II and James II. But it certainly helped that his wife Mary was a Protestant daughter of James.

There were variations elsewhere, btw. All three of the ruling "races" of France, Merovingians, Carolingians, and Capetians, insisted on succession only thru the male line. And the Carolingians, to justify deposing the Merovingians, introduced the elective principle, by which French kings had to be elected by the great lords of France, besides also being of the royal family. The early Capetian kings were careful to have their eldest son elected and crowned co-king, to keep the succession in their family. As time passed it became accepted that the crown was hereditary in the Capetian. Lastly, it became a fixed rule after the accession of Philip VI in 1328 that the succession would be either from father to son or the nearest kinsman in the legitimate male line.

And there are still many Capetians living right now!

Ad astra! Sean

S.M. Stirling said...

Sean: frankly, James was a political dimwit compared to his brother.

Charles II was almost certainly always just as much a Catholic by inclination as James -- he converted on his deathbed -- but he knew the throne would be rocking under his fundament if he said so.

James inherited a loyal army, a full Treasury (almost a miracle in itself for a Stuart), a submissive Parliament, an Anglican Church that preached "passive obedience" to the Throne, and a Whig opposition in helpless exile, mostly in the Netherlands.

And he threw it all away. If he'd just kept -quiet- about his religion, he could have lived a long life and passed the throne on to his son.