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歷史學 – 開欄文
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2023/12/28 16:44 瀏覽4,363 ｜回應27｜推薦3 |
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我在《 政治學 – 開欄文》一文中提到：年輕時我因為「急功近利」；對政治學的興趣不大。也由於同樣的原因，雖然初、高中時讀過幾篇《史記》的選錄，我對歷史學也一直興趣缺缺。
家父2004年過世後，他的藏書幾乎都捐給了武漢大學圖書館。我保留了20本左右；陳序經教授的《中國文化的出路》之外，大概有10本以「歷史哲學」為主題的著作。我保留和閱讀它們的原因在於：家父雖然以「政論家」聞名，但他把自己定位在歷史學家和歷史哲學家。在他老人家逝世10周年的紀念演討會上，我發表過一篇《胡秋原史學方法論》；可惜文檔不慎遺失。
所以，我在60歲以後才開始重視歷史學。近20年來我發表過關於「歷史」的看法以及轉載過一些史學論文；相形之下，寥寥無幾。
本文於 2025/05/07 21:10 修改第 6 次
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印尼大屠殺之美國政府知多少 - Margaret Scott
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2024/04/02 12:54 推薦1 |
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請參見本欄上一篇及下一篇；原文發表於2015的《紐約書評》。
The Indonesian Massacre: What Did the US Know?
Margaret Scott, 11/02/15
A cache of intelligence documents declassified by the CIA this fall offers a new opportunity to revisit the 1965 mass killings in Indonesia, and what the US knew about them.
Beryl Bernay/Getty Images (請至原網頁查看圖片)
President Barack Obama has several things in common with Joko Widodo, the president of Indonesia, whom he welcomed to the Oval Office last week. The two men are the exact same age, and Widodo, whom everyone calls Jokowi, looks like a shorter and skinnier version of Obama. They also share something else: a personal connection to one of the worst massacres anywhere since World War II. In the late 1960s, Obama lived in Jakarta with his mother, in the years just after the killings of hundreds of thousands of suspected Indonesian Communists, a carefully orchestrated purge that brought the US-backed New Order regime to power; Jokowi grew up in poverty in Central Java, near a river that was filled with corpses in 1965.
As it happens, a cache of intelligence documents declassified by the CIA this fall offers a new opportunity to revisit those events, and the US’s involvement in them. Moreover, Jokowi took office last year as the first president from outside the tight circle of oligarchs and political elite that flourished for decades under the New Order and even after its collapse in 1998. He promised to bring open, pluralist rule to Indonesia’s 250 million people, who are spread across 17,000 islands and who make up the world’s largest Muslim-majority nation. Many hoped Jokowi’s reforms would include a full reckoning with the fifty-year-old killings. The question is whether Obama is prepared to support Jokowi, whose troubled administration faces stiff resistance to addressing what happened in 1965.
The Indonesian massacre was a critical moment in the cold war. In the early morning of October 1,1965, six Indonesian generals were killed by a group of junior officers who claimed they were forestalling a takeover by a CIA-backed “Council of Generals.” The putsch was poorly planned and collapsed in twenty-four hours. At the time, Indonesia was led by the leftist, romantic revolutionary-turned-autocrat Sukarno, and also had the third largest Communist Party in the world, the PKI, with some 3 million members. The Indonesian Army and the US government quickly blamed the botched coup on the PKI. (There is still much we don’t know about these events, but the head of the PKI, D. N. Aidit, was at least aware of the coup attempt; he was killed shortly thereafter by the army.) Seizing on an opportunity to unseat Sukarno and roll back communism, the army unleashed a campaign of violence in which perhaps five hundred thousand or perhaps one million suspected Communists were killed—no one knows for sure.
The assassination of the six generals, and fabricated stories that they had been tortured by Communist women, were used to stir up anti-Communist sentiment. Within days, the army and army-affiliated militias spread out across the archipelago, arresting anyone who was associated with the PKI and its many labor and farmer organizations. Then, mostly at night, those arrested were taken out and shot, beheaded, or stabbed to death. The army’s militias did most of the killings, and their members ranged from gangsters to young men who belonged to the country’s two largest Muslim organizations. The victims were thrown in mass graves or into rivers, and there are harrowing stories of rivers in Java, Sumatra, and Bali so filled with bodies that the water turned red.
For the Lyndon Johnson administration, the bloodbath was a momentous victory, shifting the balance of power in Southeast Asia. But for many Indonesians it was a terrifying time. In addition to those murdered, hundreds of thousands more were imprisoned, and their families and the families of the victims were formally shunned. When the killings ended, Indonesians lived under the military rule of General Suharto, who promoted the founding myth that the army saved the nation from the atheist Communists. No one talked about what had happened.
In 1967, a six-year-old Obama moved with his mother, Ann Dunham, to Jakarta as Suharto consolidated his jackboot rule. “Innuendo, half-whispered asides; that’s how she found out that we had arrived in Djakarta less than a year after one of the more brutal and swift campaigns of suppression in modern times,” Obama writes in his memoir, Dreams from My Father. “The idea frightened her, the notion that history could be swallowed up so completely.”
Martin H. Simon-Pool/GettyImages (請至原網頁查看圖片)
Since the late 1990s, however, there have been growing efforts to recover that history. In 1998, Indonesians rose up against Suharto, whose military dictatorship had lasted thirty-two years. This movement, known as reformasi, and Suharto’s fall, brought new scrutiny to the events of 1965. Many Indonesians rebelled against the taboo of talking about the mass killings, which they began investigating through journalism, books, and films. In recent years, local organizations have also sought to locate the mass graves and assist the survivors. These efforts have been aided by US records. In 2001, despite the efforts of the CIA to prevent it, the US released Foreign Relations of the United States, 1964-1968, a State Department volume that included long-secret government documents from that period. It describes how US officials pushed for the annihilation of the PKI, providing covert assistance and urging the Indonesian army to complete the job.
But the documents did not reveal when the plan for mass killings was devised, and when the US knew about it. Some of these questions have now come more sharply into focus with the release on September 16 of more CIA documents, including, for the first time, records of what the CIA was telling President Johnson as the failed coup quickly became a pretext for mass murder. Prodded by a court ruling, the CIA declassified redacted versions of all of the Presidential Daily Briefs, considered the most important and most closely held intelligence information, from 1961 to 1969. These documents don’t change the underlying story we have about 1965, but they do provide the best evidence yet of how hard the US was pushing for the eradication of the Communists and the routing of the pro-Chinese Sukarno.
Despite the fact that the US was at the time escalating its involvement in Vietnam, Indonesia was the first item on the president’s daily brief almost every day from the failed coup at the beginning of October to the end of November of that year. To read these briefs is to be immersed in the Johnson administration’s analysis of this period as the now-or-never time “to roll up the Communists” in Indonesia, as the October 4 brief puts it. (It is the same period that Joshua Oppenheimer’s extraordinary films, The Act of Killing [2012] and The Look of Silence [2014] explore—first through the eyes of the killers and then of the victims.)
Day after day, President Johnson was updated on the Indonesian army’s move against the Communists, with little regard to the violence involved. “From all indications,” the October 6 brief states, “the army’s leadership still very much wants to have it out with the Communists and is becoming more wary of Sukarno himself.” Two days later, Johnson was told that “the generals’ staying power in a drive against the Communists remains to be established,” and then there are five lines redacted. Some of the briefs mention arrests and army sweeps at night, but there is no mention of the mass killings that continued for months.
Indonesian newspapers did not report on the atrocities. The New York Times and The Washington Post noted that there were reports of secretive, organized killings of suspected Communists, but the army confined foreign correspondents to the capital for months. By December, Indonesia was no longer number one in the briefs, but still appeared regularly, with reports on the continuing power struggle between the army and Sukarno, who still considered himself “president for life” and maintained popular support as Indonesia’s leader in the war for independence from the Dutch. Most of the briefs from December to March describe the slow but sure ascendency of the US’s strongman, General Suharto.
On March 12, 1966, Indonesia once again led the daily brief. “The army now has the situation in hand, but it is too early to assume that Sukarno is down for good. The people in Djakarta nevertheless are clearly with the military and the capital is reported quiet,” the brief explains. “It still remains to be seen whether the army will move quickly to consolidate its position. The first signs look promising; the Communist Party has finally been banned.” By this point, the killing spree was largely over.
Because the released documents are heavily censored, many secrets remain. Obama would do Indonesia’s fragile democracy a lot of good by helping Jokowi pry loose more of this still-hidden history, including other classified documents such as the daily reports of the CIA—which might indicate how much the generals were telling the CIA and how the US responded. This seems unlikely, since further declassification would likely require a forceful request by the Indonesian government or by a truth commission.
That’s too bad for Indonesians, who have been slowly creating a new democratic politics since 1998. Seventeen years later, Indonesia and Jokowi are caught up in a dramatic but predictable mess: a vibrant democracy struggles to exist alongside an entrenched oligarchy and a corrupt political elite. One reason is that while Suharto is long gone, much of the elite of the New Order dictatorship—the generals, the oil and coal tycoons, the political elite and powerbrokers—have thrived. The reformasi era has brought hotly contested direct elections and a boisterous free press, but it hasn’t taken away the impunity of the Indonesian army, which has never had to answer for the 1965 massacre.
Bettmann/Corbis (請至原網頁查看圖片)
The struggle between reformers and holdovers of the New Order was the backdrop of Jokowi’s presidential campaign. Jokowi grew up in the 1960s in a poor neighborhood in Solo, a regional city in Central Java; in 2005 he became Solo’s immensely popular, can-do mayor. He was the face of reformasi, and his humor, his humble manner, his famous strolls through markets, and his quirky love for Heavy Metal bands made him a darling with the Indonesian press. He soared onto the national stage, becoming Jakarta’s governor in 2012, and then, in 2014, making a successful run for the presidency.
Those who elected Jokowi had sky-high expectations of a reinvigorated fight against corruption, and even an effort to take on the army for its human rights abuses. There was talk before the fiftieth anniversary of the 1965 killings this month that Jokowi would offer a formal apology to the survivors and victims’ families. But Jokowi’s first year in office has revealed the limits of his power. He does not control the parliament, and even the party that nominated him refuses to push his agenda.
China’s downturn has hurt Indonesia’s economy, and Jokowi’s government is scrambling to create jobs while nearly 40 percent of Indonesians live on $2 a day or less. A horrible haze has settled over the region because of forest fires to clear land, often so that oligarchs and well-connected military figures can build palm oil plantations; Jokowi has been unable to do anything. And through his own political missteps, Jokowi has weakened the Anti-Corruption Commission, the most effective reformasi institution. His poll numbers have plummeted, and a recent poll showed that if there were another election, Prabowo Subianto, the establishment politician he defeated last year, would beat him.
It wasn’t surprising, then, that talk of a truth commission or an apology for the killings has stopped. Already in August, leaders in parliament said they opposed it, while generals and Islamist politicians warned darkly of a revival of atheistic neo-communism. Jokowi got the message. Revisiting 1965 is politically risky; too many have acquired great wealth and power because of the New Order and they have no interest in reexamining its founding myth.
Even unofficial discussions of the massacre have provoked a backlash from the political establishment. This month Indonesia was the guest of honor at the Frankfurt Book Fair, and the three novelists receiving the most attention have each placed 1965 in the center of their fiction. The day the book fair opened, Islamist groups protested in Jakarta that these Indonesian authors were actively promoting communism. Indonesia’s own premier annual literary event, the Ubud Writers & Readers Festival, which began on October 28, was forced to cancel three sessions about 1965, including a screening of Oppenheimer’s second film and a panel with the novelist Eka Kurniawan, one of the authors featured in Frankfurt. A police official said that unless those sessions were omitted, the whole festival would be shut down. “The spirit of the festival is not to discuss things that would just open old wounds,” he said.
The new details emerging from the archives in both Indonesia and in Washington, however, may make this history harder to ignore. For example, Jess Melvin, an Australian Ph.D. student, recently discovered, in government archives in Aceh, Indonesian army documents that confirm that the killings were organized by the army as a systematic campaign. According to Melvin, these records show a military chain of command and orders that drove the killings and help explain the civilian participation in them. “The documents,” she writes, “demonstrate that the military leadership understood and implemented what they called the ‘annihilation of the PKI’ as an intentional and centralized national campaign.”
The US ambassador to Indonesia at the time, Marshall Green, has insisted in interviews and in his memoir that the only US covert assistance provided to the Indonesian army was some walkie-talkies and medicine. But from the 2001 volume and from even earlier press reports, we know that the US Embassy in Jakarta also gave the army lists of PKI members—perhaps with thousands of names. And the daily briefs at least hint at greater American involvement. Until more US records are released and until the Indonesian army’s records are made public, however, the full story will not be known.
The US has done a lot to unlock the secrets of the cold war, but it can do more. Indonesia’s struggle to remain democratic, and avoid a return to strongman rule, in part depends on knowing its own history. Obama knows this, and, as president, he has the power to help fill in the historical record.
Margaret Scott teaches at NYU’s Program in International Relations and is a cofounder of the New York Southeast Asia Network. (April 2024)
More by Margaret Scott
The Price of Stability March 30, 2024
Indonesia’s Corrupted Democracy April 4, 2024 issue
Indonesia’s New Islamist Politics April 18, 2019 issue
本文於 2024/04/02 12:56 修改第 1 次
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印尼大屠殺--Margaret Scott
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2024/04/01 21:28 推薦1 |
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下文發表於2018的《紐約書評》，它回顧蘇哈托在1965 – 1966主導的印尼全國性大屠殺。請參見：下一篇關於美國政府在此事件中扮演的角色；以及即將刊出的拙作《讀後》。
The Truth about the Killing Fields
Margaret Scott, 06/28/2018 issue
Reviewed:
The Army and the Indonesian Genocide: Mechanics of Mass Murder
by Jess Melvin；Routledge, 319 pp., $140.00
The Killing Season: A History of the Indonesian Massacres, 1965–66
by Geoffrey B. Robinson；Princeton University Press, 429 pp., $35.00
On a baking hot afternoon in 2010, Jess Melvin, a young scholar from Australia, walked out of a government archive in Banda Aceh carrying a cardboard box. It was brimming with three thousand photocopied documents from the Indonesian army, and Melvin could barely believe her luck. These documents prove what has always been officially denied: the Indonesian army deliberately planned the 1965–1966 massacre in which up to a million suspected Communists died, one of the worst but least-known mass killings of the twentieth century.
Melvin’s astonishing discovery forms the core of her groundbreaking book The Army and the Indonesian Genocide: Mechanics of Mass Murder. She chronicles what happened after October 1, 1965, when six high-ranking army generals were yanked from their homes in the early hours of the morning and murdered by left-leaning junior officers who called themselves the 30 September Movement. They claimed they were forestalling a coup by a CIA-backed group of anti-Communist generals. Within hours, the junior officers were outmaneuvered by Major General Suharto, who staged a counter-coup and blamed the Communist Party of Indonesia (PKI) for the murders. By the end of the day, Suharto sent out orders to “completely annihilate” the 30 September Movement “down to the roots,” according to an army document Melvin discovered.
Melvin’s book will forever alter the telling of what happened next. Suharto, relying on an army command structure outside the control of the revolutionary leader and president-for-life Sukarno, issued orders to carry out mass killings. The documents Melvin uses to explain how the army planned and organized the killings shatter the official narrative that has prevailed for more than fifty years and continues to be taught to Indonesian schoolchildren today. This narrative holds that God-fearing, anti-Communist Indonesians, provoked for years by the PKI and outraged by the 30 September Movement’s treacherous murder of the generals, rose up in a frenzy to annihilate the PKI across the archipelago of 17,000 islands. According to the official 1966 Fact Finding Commission, the army could not contain the violence of the masses. Indonesia’s official history describes civilians seeking revenge, and there is no mention of the military’s participation in the killings. In fact, as Melvin’s book and other new scholarship show, Suharto instituted martial law, leaving the flamboyant leftist-turned-autocrat Sukarno stuck in the presidential palace as his supposedly unrivaled power dwindled away.
Melvin offers a fascinating day-by-day chronicle, based on the archival army documents and the 1965 annual report of the army commander in the northern province of Aceh, unearthed in a Dutch library. The documents reveal the army’s plan to pin the murder of the generals on the PKI and then wipe it out. The army took control of all newspapers and radio, and propaganda—including the fake and endlessly repeated story of how Communist women danced around the kidnapped generals as they castrated them and gouged out their eyes—played a huge part in whipping up support within Muslim militias, mostly organized by the army, for rounding up, detaining, and then killing suspected Communists.
The army’s own chronology, which Melvin annotates, shows how the provincial military commander would go to a town, denounce the PKI, organize a public demonstration, oversee the creation of militias and death squads, and then oversee the killings. They usually started with public executions of well-known PKI members and then escalated into mass roundups. According to Melvin, “The pogroms and public killings broke down normal social bonds and established violence as the manner in which the military’s campaign was to be pursued.”
In addition to proving the army’s involvement, the documents show that the tactics and scale of the killings evolved both for the army and for local civilians, who were often coerced into killing by the logic of “you are with us or against us.” Over the following weeks and months, annihilating the 30 September Movement morphed into annihilating the PKI. Melvin writes that it remains unclear if the army intended killings on such a vast scale. At some point, either because the army was unable to feed all the detainees or because the pogrom took on a life of its own, the army decided to kill them.
While Melvin’s cache of military records focuses on Aceh and the nearby provinces on the northern island of Sumatra, the documents prove conclusively that the Indonesian army expected a showdown with the Communists and devised a plan to exterminate them. Fortuitously, Melvin’s book appears at the same time as Geoffrey B. Robinson’s The Killing Season: A History of the Indonesian Massacres, 1965–66. Robinson, a veteran historian of Indonesia who teaches at UCLA, describes the broader cold war background to the massacre and digs into the available sources to prove that the US and British governments secretly backed the anti-Communist faction of the Indonesian army. The goal of the US and UK covert strategy, Robinson shows, was to provoke the PKI into action so that the army had a pretext to crush it.
An illuminating third perspective on this cold war epic comes from a Chinese scholar, Taomo Zhou, who adds missing information on the involvement of China in the showdown between the left and right in Indonesia. Zhou’s research started at Cornell University and is based on Chinese Foreign Ministry documents that were declassified in 2008, then reclassified in the summer of 2013. In an article in The China Quarterly, part of her forthcoming book, Migration in the Time of Revolution: China, Indonesia, and the Cold War, 1945–1967, Zhou, now teaching at the Nanyang Technological University in Singapore, documents that Mao Zedong and other Chinese leaders knew that the youthful and charismatic head of the PKI, D.N. Aidit, had developed plans to prevent an anti-Communist army takeover (relying on a handful of left-leaning officers), but the Chinese were not the architects of those plans.
For the first time, reading Melvin, Robinson, and Zhou together, the puzzle pieces of who was really behind the 30 September Movement and why its failure led to the murderous extermination of the left nearly fall into place. “Nearly” must be stressed since critical clues are still missing: most importantly from Indonesia, but also from the still-classified records of the CIA and the Defense Department in the US and of Britain’s MI6, and, crucially, from other documents from Chinese sources. But by early 1965, these studies reveal, both the army and the leaders of the PKI yearned to seize power, using President Sukarno as cover in their bid to destroy each other.
They also add to our understanding of how Indonesia, by 1965, was in the path of a cold war collision, with the US and Britain on one side and China on the other. Sukarno, who claimed to be the voice of his people and to reconcile Islam, nationalism, and socialism, marched ever leftward, decrying the “imperialist and neo-colonialist West” while embracing the PKI and the Chinese Communists. By this time, the PKI was the third-largest Communist Party in the world, after China’s and the Soviet Union’s, claiming 3.5 million members and some 20 million sympathizers, mostly peasants and workers.
Robinson captures the high stakes: by 1965 the Vietnam War was raging; after the Sino-Soviet split China was determined to recast itself as the leader of revolution in Asia, and ensuring that Sukarno and the PKI looked to China for support and inspiration mattered to Mao. With China encouraging him, Sukarno had already launched the “Crush Malaysia” campaign, calling for an armed confrontation with the neocolonialists for creating Malaysia, which he called a puppet state meant to encircle Indonesia. Alarmed, President Johnson’s national security adviser McGeorge Bundy approved more intensive covert programs.
The extent of the programs remains unknown, but Robinson has pieced together the documents that have been declassified, which describe support for the Indonesian army and Muslim groups, and psychological operations designed to provoke the PKI into doing something—ideally attempting a coup—that would provide a pretext for the army to smash it and seize power.
The British created a division for covert political warfare against Indonesia in Singapore. By mid-August, Bundy called for a meeting “to alert the President to the seriousness of the situation in which the Communists may take over Indonesia,” a development that Undersecretary of State George Ball said “would be the biggest thing since the fall of China.”
Meanwhile, China also was determined to win in Indonesia. Zhou describes how Mao thought that backing the PKI was essential to show the rest of Southeast Asia that China, not the Soviet Union, led the revolutionary movement. Aidit ingratiated himself with China. He soon became Mao’s—and China’s—man in Jakarta, as well as a forceful figure in Sukarno’s inner circle and in his cabinet. Mao and Zhou Enlai dangled promises of huge shipments of small arms and even nuclear technology. They supported Aidit’s plan, for which he also got Sukarno’s support, to create a Fifth Force and arm workers and farmers for the Crush Malaysia campaign.
By the summer of 1965, Aidit, who was confident one minute and anxious the next that the right-wing generals were about to launch a coup, had created a clandestine group that became the 30 September Movement, without the knowledge of the PKI politburo or the party’s millions of followers. The historian John Roosa, a professor at the University of British Columbia, was the first to delve into Aidit’s role in the poorly organized movement, which relied on a group of “revolutionary” officers without a clear plan.
Zhou is the first scholar to find a document proving that Aidit described the movement to Mao. On August 5, Aidit was in Beijing when Sukarno collapsed from an unknown illness, and he decided to rush back to a tense Jakarta. Mao met with Aidit before he left, and asked what he would do if Sukarno died or the army moved to take over. Aidit laid out his plan for a preemptive strike. He told Mao, according to minutes of the meeting, that he planned to establish a military committee to confuse his enemies and to ensure that “military commanders who are sympathetic to the right wing will not oppose us immediately.” He then added, “After it has been established, we need to arm the workers and peasants in a timely fashion.”
Zhou writes that the minutes do not include Mao’s exact reply, but that he told Aidit to be ready for both negotiations and armed struggle. It seems clear from Roosa’s and Zhou’s research that while Aidit was emboldened by Mao’s support and expected many guns to follow, China never sent any. Zhou, whose study is designed to add to the global history of the cold war, said in a telephone interview that opening up more of the historical record is unlikely in Xi Jinping’s China, where the 30 September Movement remains a taboo subject. As a result, Zhou said, she can only write about it in English.
By August 1965, with Aidit back in Jakarta, the army and the PKI played out the last moves of this grand game of chicken. Over the next two months, tensions escalated, pro- and anti-Communist students clashed, and Sukarno’s self-proclaimed magic of holding the nation together was waning. Rumors flew. One day there were reports of guns from China arriving to arm the Fifth Force. Another day reports circulated that there was proof that the CIA-backed Council of Generals was going to seize power on October 5, Armed Forces Day. As the showdown was brewing, the US incited the right while China encouraged the left.
Early in the morning of October 1, Aidit launched the plan he had outlined to Mao, only to watch it fizzle. There were no promised guns from China. PKI cadres did not rise up to support the 30 September Movement. Sukarno failed to support Aidit and the leftist officers. The brash and brutal Suharto moved quickly to declare himself commander of the army, and he ignored Sukarno’s order that afternoon to step down. Aidit fled to Yogyakarta and, during his weeks in hiding, he denied that he was involved in the killing of the generals and instructed party officials to call off any demonstrations and avoid any actions that would provoke an army response. Sukarno would protect the PKI, he told his followers. But Sukarno had no protection to offer; instead the unarmed PKI members and poor farmers and workers who belonged to affiliated organizations were defenseless as the army moved to annihilate them. Hiding in a village on the outskirts of Solo in Central Java, Aidit was tracked down by the army on November 22 and summarily executed.
Melvin adds a new understanding of why the army was able to move so quickly on October 1. Under the cover of the Crush Malaysia campaign, it had devised its separate command structure and trained civilian militias, ranging from gangsters to members of Nahdlatul Ulama (NU), Indonesia’s largest Muslim organization. When Suharto gave the order, the means to carry it out were already in place. Army commanders quickly met with NU leaders, handing out guns and money.
In Aceh, Melvin follows what she calls “the coordination tour” of the Aceh army commander Brigadier General Ishak Djuarsa to explain how the civilian population was enlisted in the annihilation campaign. Mass rallies were held to rile up hatred for the PKI. Muslim religious leaders joined in, condemning Communists as atheists, giving religious sanction to the murders. The army issued edicts ordering civilians to crush the PKI. Death squads were formed all over the province, and by the end of October, Djuarsa declared war on the PKI. The militias and death squads collected accused Communists from army-run detention centers, mostly at night, and killed them, throwing the corpses into rivers or shallow mass graves.
Robinson argues that what happened in Aceh was not unusual. What makes the massacre in Indonesia remarkable is that the victims were killed for their political and ideological connections, not their ethnicity or religion. There were many willing executioners, especially in the Muslim militias, and Islam was often invoked to justify the violence. Yet in religiously diverse Indonesia, Christians, Hindus, and Buddhists also participated in the violence. Without the army, as Melvin and Robinson painstakingly detail, there would have been no mass murder. All of the evidence, Robinson writes, “points to the army as the chief instigator and organizer of the violence.”
One notable exception was the targeting of Chinese Indonesians, long stigmatized as clannish, unfairly wealthy, and not quite Indonesian. Hostility toward Chinese in the archipelago had simmered for hundreds of years, but the antipathy took on a political dimension in 1965. As Sukarno and the PKI allied themselves with China, anti-Communists in Indonesia insisted that Chinese Indonesians were disloyal and untrustworthy. Rumors spread that local Chinese were spies or were bankrolling the PKI. When the army went after the PKI, Chinese Indonesians became targets of violence as well, especially in Medan and Aceh. Melvin writes that indiscriminate violence against Aceh’s Chinese community erupted in 1966, and Djuarsa, the commander, issued an order that all “alien” Chinese had to leave by August 17, 1966. China sent ships to Medan to rescue them. Some ten thousand were expelled.
By March 1966, the killings slowed or stopped in most places. Suharto forced Sukarno to sign over his presidential powers on March 11, and embarked on his thirty-two years of strongman rule. Communism was outlawed. Every Indonesian had to declare belief in one of the official religions (Islam, Catholicism, Protestantism, Hinduism, and Buddhism)
to inoculate against Marxism. Chinese characters were banned, and Chinese Indonesians were forced to adopt Indonesian names. China and Indonesia severed relations. The US and Britain, watching their covert dreams in action, rushed to help Suharto and the army and celebrated the elimination of the PKI. It was seen as a momentous victory and a turning point in the cold war. As if the massacre was a down payment for aid, money flowed into Indonesia in the form of loans, foreign aid, military funding and equipment, and private investment, especially in oil and mining.
Suharto’s New Order, as his rule was called, ushered in a period of high growth rates and harsh repression. Not only were up to one million alleged Communists massacred, another 1.5 million were imprisoned, and their families were shunned and discriminated against for generations. Suharto’s authoritarian control of society rested on the “latent danger of communism,” and an elaborate intelligence apparatus reached down to the village level to quash dissent or signs of leftism. Any talk about the killings became taboo except for the official version: the PKI had to be exterminated, and Indonesians themselves supported and joined in the mass murder.
This official version was embraced in high-ranking circles of the US and British governments. Many journalists and scholars accepted it as well. “The US government also went to extraordinary lengths to disguise its own role in the violence,” according to Robinson, including releasing Indonesia—1965: The Coup That Backfired, the CIA’s version of events, which echoed the Indonesian army’s official version. One reason the CIA took the extraordinary step of releasing this report, completed in 1968, was to counter what came to be known as the “Cornell Paper,” a dissenting study by two scholars, Benedict R. Anderson and Ruth T. McVey, who rejected the notion that the PKI was behind the September 30 Movement.
Instead, they claimed that intra-army conflict was the cause. The Cornell Paper and the CIA’s report—both of which turned out to be wrong—gave rise to years of sharp polemics between pro–and anti–New Order officials and scholars.
An exchange of letters in these pages from 1978 gives a taste of the bitter debate.
Francis J. Galbraith, ambassador to Indonesia from 1969 to 1974, lambasted an article by Huang Wen-hsien and David Hinckley, “In Indonesian Prisons,” based on an Amnesty International report that at least 55,000 and perhaps 100,000 political prisoners, rounded up in the annihilation campaign, languished as detainees without trial. Galbraith wrote that the Cornell Paper had been discredited, the role of the PK had been proven, and that Indonesia was still fighting a Communist insurgency:
The Suharto Government has understandably hesitated to turn loose the slightly more than 30,000 Communist cadres still detained (not 100,000 as alleged by Amnesty International) to fuel such an insurgency.
Anderson and McVey’s reply appeared a few months later. The CIA’s own study, they pointed out, showed that the PKI never took up arms or had plans to lead an insurgency. They also dismissed Galbraith’s claim that the PKI was to blame, instead asserting that it was the CIA that had the most to gain in stopping Indonesia’s “headlong slide to the left.” Anderson and McVey got a lot wrong in the Cornell Paper, but so did a subgenre of books in both Indonesian and English, including Marshall Green’s memoir of his time as US ambassador from 1965 to 1968, which obscures the role of the US and UK and the organizing of the killings by the Indonesian army.
According to Green, “The events of October 1, 1965, came as a complete surprise to us.” As for the killings, he describes them as the inevitable result of neighbor-against-neighbor antipathy with no mention at all of the army. In the last analysis, he writes,
The bloodbath visited on Indonesia can be largely attributed to the fact that communism, with its atheism and talk of class warfare, was abhorrent to the way of life of rural Indonesia.
Since Suharto was toppled in 1998 and Indonesia entered its cacophonous and fragile democratic era, many have challenged the official narrative through personal memoirs, documentaries, and novels.
Yet these efforts have led to a backlash, with a growing alliance of the right and Islamists attacking any effort to investigate the past as a neo-Communist threat to the nation. These deeply researched and authoritative new books should offer support to those who are searching for the truth. They have, at the very least, revealed the urgent need for a new account of a tragic chapter in Indonesia’s past that continues to haunt the present.
Margaret Scott teaches at NYU’s Program in International Relations and is a cofounder of the New York Southeast Asia Network. (April 2024)
本文於 2024/04/01 21:29 修改第 1 次
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古代時期希臘和波斯的關係 -- Laken Bonatch
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2024/02/24 15:55 推薦3 |
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轉登這篇文章並非「發思古之幽情」；而是從古希臘和古波斯的關係，我們可以了解：幾千年來直到現在和可見的未來，國際上只有利益掛帥的酒肉朋友。其根本原因還是在於：人需要資源才能存活，而地球上的資源或者不夠分配，或者有人認為，資源多多益善，永遠都不夠用。
赫拉德特斯大概是第一個鼓吹「文明衝突論」的意識型態家(通譯為：希羅多得)；請見以下 : “Ancient Representations”一節。
Ancient Greece and Persia: Foes, Friends, or Both?
The Ancient Greek city-states and the Persian Empire had a complicated relationship that extended beyond the Greco-Persian Wars.
Laken Bonatch, 02/21/24
(請至原網頁觀看相關照片)
The Greco-Persian Wars have long stuck in the minds of those who study the ancient world. Although this series of battles had a significant impact on ancient Greece, including its history, literature, and identity, there is more to the relationship between ancient Greece and the Persian Empire. Furthermore, we only have the Greek perspective on this relationship, so it’s important to keep that in mind when discussing it. This article will examine the relationship between the Greek city-states and the Persian Empire before, during, and after the wars.
Greco-Persian Relations Before the 5th Century
Red-figured hydria, artist unknown, 400-380 BCE. Source: British Museum, London (請至原網頁觀看相關照片)
Despite what more popular depictions of the Greco-Persian Wars may say, the relationship between the Greek city-states and the Persian Empire was not entirely antagonistic, especially before the 5th century BCE. The Greek city-states and the Persian Empire had a strong trade relationship, leading to the spread of goods, clothing styles (see above image), and art through mainland Greece. Before the Greco-Persian Wars, it was a sign of power for upper-class Greeks, particularly Athenians, to emulate Persian dress and customs.
In addition to a trade relationship, the Greek city-states and the Persian Empire also had a political relationship. There were official envoys from Greek city-states that would be received in one of the capitals of the Persian Empire. For example, although this is after the Greco-Persian Wars, Antalcidas was a Spartan politician and envoy to Persia in the 4th century. Persian kings often invited Greek artists and orators to their courts, with the Athenian tragedian Euripides being one such example.
Stater of Ionian Revolt, artist unknown, 498-494 BCE. Source: Museum of Fine Arts, Boston (請至原網頁觀看相關照片)
Another factor that complicated the relationship between Greece and Persia was the status of the Greek city-states in Ionia. Ionia was a region on present-day Turkey’s coast with Greek colonies. The Lydians had initially conquered the colonies in around 560 BCE. However, Cyrus the Great eventually took down the Lydians and brought the area under the Persian Empire. From then on, the Ionian cities would become restless Persian subjects leading to the Ionian Revolt in the early 5th century.
Relief from palace of Darius, artist unknown. Source: British Museum, London (請至原網頁觀看相關照片)
The Ionian Revolt (499-493 BCE) is seen as the unofficial beginning of the Greco-Persian Wars by many scholars, as it involved the military rebellions of multiple Greek areas of Ionia against the Persian Empire. The areas that rebelled included Aeolis, Cyprus, Caria, Miletus, Naxos, and more. The revolt lasted around six years, beginning in 499 and ending in 493 with a Persian victory. Although the Greek city-states of Athens and Eretria offered their support, they were unable to substantially help Miletus and the rest of the revolting regions. In fact, their intervention placed them on Darius I’s (Darius the Great) radar.
Darius’ Invasion of Greece
Monument to Marathon, artist unknown, ~460 BCE. Source: Institute of Classical Studies (請至原網頁觀看相關照片)
In 492, only one year after the end of the Ionian Revolt, Darius I began an invasion of Greece, starting with territories in the Aegean. Before making it to mainland Greece, the Persian military conquered Macedon and some islands off the coast of Greece. By the time the fleet landed and began marching toward Athens, it was 490. At this point, the only major battle in mainland Greece during this invasion occurred: the Battle of Marathon.
Athenian hoplites cut off the Persian military’s path to Athens and fended them off in this battle. Most of the information for Marathon (and the second invasion, as well) comes from Herodotus, a Greek historian. Herodotus’ account describes a much smaller Athenian army (in addition to some forces from Plataea) taking on the large Persian military in an attempt to prevent them from capturing Athens.
Terracotta Nolan, artist unknown, 480-470 BCE. Source: MET, New York (請至原網頁觀看相關照片)
The Persian fleet still attempted to sail to the undefended city, but the Athenian military hurried back and intercepted them, forcing them to sail back to Persia.
It was also in this battle that the famous origin of the marathon race came about. Before the battle, one Athenian named Pheidippides was tasked with running to Sparta from Marathon to seek aid for the battle, which he did. Sparta could not make it in time due to a religious festival. Pheidippides had to run back to Marathon within only a few days, and after the battle, he was tasked with running another 42.195 km (the exact distance of the Marathon race) back to Athens to inform the city of the victory. Pheidippides successfully made it to Athens, announced that “we won”, and died.
The victory at Marathon ended the first invasion of Greece, which, in reality, was a campaign in the Aegean and the northern countries above Greece, with only one battle occurring on the mainland. Although this invasion has often been seen as a failure for the Persian Empire, they conquered many territories and re-subjugated Thrace before their loss at Marathon.
Xerxes’ Invasion of Greece
Jar with inscriptions of Xerxes, artist unknown, 485-465 BCE. Source: MET, New York (請至原網頁觀看相關照片)
Ten years after the Battle of Marathon, Darius’ son, Xerxes I, began the second invasion of Greece in 480. According to Herodotus, he wished to finish his father’s campaign, but that is only one guess as to why Xerxes decided to resume the invasion. Once again, Herodotus is the main source for this invasion, and many aspects of it are even more exaggerated than Darius’ invasion.
Unlike the first invasion of Greece, where Athens was the only city-state that faced off against the Persian Empire, the second invasion brought more of the Greek city-states together. Although the Athenian role is still emphasized in Herodotus’ works, multiple cities formed an alliance to fight the Persian military. The invasion lasted only one year, but there were multiple notable battles that occurred in these twelve months.
Leonidas at Thermopylae by Jacques-Louis David, 1814. Source: Louvre, Paris (請至原網頁觀看相關照片)
After the Persian fleet crossed the Hellespont and landed on mainland Greece, they first encountered Greek forces at Thermopylae, a pass that was defended by Sparta and its allies until the Greek forces were defeated. After Thermopylae, the Persian army marched to Athens and ransacked the city, burning the Acropolis and destroying religious sanctuaries. This act was one of the most significant events in the 5th century for Athens, and it would greatly impact the relationship between the Persian Empire and the city-state.
Bay of Salamis drawing by William Simpson. Source: British Museum, London (請至原網頁觀看相關照片)
After the sack of Athens, the city-state met the Persian forces in a naval battle at Salamis, giving the Athenians a victory and contributing to their naval pride. The final major battle happened nearly a year later at Plataea with a large alliance of Greek forces from Sparta, Athens, Corinth, Megara, and other city-states. At this point, Xerxes had returned to Persia, leaving his general Mardonius in charge of the remaining campaign. After Mardonius’ loss at Plataea, the Greco-Persian Wars are seen as over by some. However, the conflict would continue in the Aegean and beyond for around three more decades, ending around 449 with the Peace of Callias (whose date is debated).
Ancient Representations
Bust of Herodotus, artist unknown, 2nd CE. Source: MET, New York (請至原網頁觀看相關照片)
As already mentioned, the relationship between the Persian Empire and the Greek city-states was not always hostile. However, during the 5th century, there was a notable shift in how Persia was represented in art and discussed in literature, which evidently ties in with the beginning of the Greco-Persian Wars.
Due to a lack of primary sources, Herodotus informs much of our knowledge on how the Persian Empire was represented in literature around the 5th and 4th centuries. However, he contributes to a trend seen in other representations of the Persian Empire that frame the empire as the one true enemy of Greece, which has helped shape the more modern interpretation of the Greco-Persian Wars as a divide between “East” and “West.”
Herodotus begins his account of the Greco-Persian Wars by recounting the history of the Persian Empire and its kings, but his characterization of Xerxes, the king responsible for the second invasion of Greece, follows a pattern of portraying the man as effeminate, hubristic, and careless. For example, there is the famous scene of Xerxes whipping the Hellespont after his forces were unable to cross. This scene only appears first in Herodotus and then later in authors who have read his works, but it has still become part of how Xerxes is remembered, despite the high probability that it is not true.
Marble relief from Parthenon frieze by Pheidias, 438-432 BCE. Source: British Museum (請至原網頁觀看相關照片)
In addition to a shift in how the Persian Empire is represented in literature, we also see new artistic representations. Following the destruction of Athens after the Battle of Thermopylae, Pericles, an Athenian politician, began a reconstruction campaign on the Acropolis. As part of this reconstruction, he funded the Parthenon, which replaced the former temple of Athena that had been destroyed by the Persian military.
The frieze running along the Parthenon’s top depicted Athenian mythological heroes in scenes like the Amazonomachy (battle between Greeks and Amazons) and the Centauromachy (battle between Greeks and centaurs), which are often perceived as representing the battle between Greeks and barbarians or in this case probably the Greeks and the Persians. Furthermore, the frieze was likely influenced by Persian reliefs such as the ones from Persepolis.
Greece & Persia: A Shifting Relationship
Kylix of Greek and Persian soldiers, artist unknown, 460 BCE. Source: National Museum of Scotland, Edinburgh (請至原網頁觀看相關照片)
We do not have much evidence of the Greco-Persian Wars from the Persian Empire, so it’s difficult to say if these wars had anywhere near the name impact as they did on the Greek city-states, particularly Athens. However, it’s important to remember that the Persian Empire was enormous. While the failure to conquer mainland Greece may have had some impact, it didn’t erase the amount of power or territory that Xerxes had in the 5th century. Nevertheless, it is interesting to see how the relationship between these two ancient powers shifted over time. Prior to the 5th century, they had a relationship built on trade, and elites in Greece would spend money imitating Persian dress and buying Persian art and goods. Additionally, there were few artistic representations of the empire.
With the beginning of the Greco-Persian Wars, we see a shift in how the Persian Empire is represented in literature and art. They were now rebranded as the effeminate enemy of Greece; a common enemy that helped bolster national identity. Also, the Greek wins during the Persian Wars were perceived as major blows to Persian imperial power. Although this interpretation is far from the truth, it is important to understand where it came from and how the relationship between Greece and the Persian Empire changed due to the wars.
READ NEXT: A Complete Timeline of the Greco-Persian Wars
Laken Bonatch, MA History and MS Archives Management (in-progress), BA History & Classics, Laken has a BA in History and Classics from Bryn Mawr College and is currently pursuing an MA in History and MS in Library Science with a concentration on Archives Management from Simmons University. She is working toward becoming an archivist in order to help others in their research while preserving history at the same time, and her academic interests include medieval and ancient history.
本文於 2024/02/27 11:50 修改第 4 次
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《拆穿巴勒斯坦當代史神話》讀後
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2024/01/07 14:33 推薦1 |
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切蕊教授是經濟學家。我對巴勒斯坦的歷史和當代情況都缺乏了解；因此，沒有能力評論切蕊教授在他大作中對史實的陳述和詮釋。轉載下文只是做為參考(本欄上一篇)，並無替他背書的意思。從標題與用字遣詞兩個角度分析，全文難稱公允；切蕊教授支持以色列人與貶低巴勒斯坦人的情緒躍然紙上。
我同意齊椰克教授在《左派在加薩議題和「解除殖民統治」上的思考盲點》中所引用撒伊德博士觀點：巴勒斯坦人和以色列人都有權利在該地區生活。請見以上超連結一欄中2023/12/22貼文。
如何將這個觀點落實為現實政治，則有待兩族人民的智慧，以及各國領袖的見識和手腕來決定了。
本文於 2025/01/19 17:29 修改第 2 次
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拆穿巴勒斯坦當代史神話 ---- Robert Cherry
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2024/01/07 12:34 推薦1 |
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索引：
Nakba：巴勒斯坦人的浩劫；浩劫日 (本文中兩義皆有，依脈絡定之)
Countering Historical Myths of the Palestinian Experience
Robert Cherry, 01/06/24
Much of the left’s animus towards Israel is based on a false history of the 1948 War: the uprooting of a longstanding Arab population, quelching their aspirations for an independent Palestinian state. Instead, there were longstanding Jewish communities in Palestine; a significant share of Arab refugees were recent migrants to Jewish areas; there was little Palestinian nationalist sentiment; and the Nakba had nothing to do with the refugee problem.
There were longstanding Jewish populations in a number of Palestinian cities. Since at least the nineteenth century, the majority of Jerusalem residents were Jewish despite its home to the third most holy site in Islam. The reason was that the Al-Aqsa Mosque was never a pilgrimage site and during the Ottoman era was never maintained so by the 1920s had severely deteriorated. Besides organizing pogroms against Jewish communities in 1921 and 1929, Haj Amin al-Husseini, the Grand Mufti of Jerusalem, made a concerted effort to transform the mosque by sending emissaries throughout the Muslim world to obtain funds for renovations. These successful efforts led him to be revered in the Muslim world.
The Mufti’s leadership of the 1936-39 Arab Revolt led to his exile in Iraq. In 1941, he fled to Germany where he was an important propagandist for the Nazis, helping to organize a Bosnian contingent in the Nazi Army. After the war, he “escaped” from house arrest in France, and was given a hero’s welcome when arriving in Cairo. The newly formed Arab League made him the head of the Arab Higher Committee, the representative of Palestinian interests.
A significant share of Arabs living in Jewish areas were recent migrants. Throughout the prewar years, Jewish successes drew Arab migrants from other parts of Palestine. The historian Fred Gottheil estimated that between 1922 and 1931 migrants comprised one-quarter of the Arab population growth in areas that would become the state of Israel.
Arab migration to Jewish areas continued during the next decade, fueled by the worsening situations in rural areas. The sociologist Christopher Anderson estimated that as many as half of the Arab peasantry were either agricultural laborers or tenant farmers, with a large share of the remainder having landholdings that were too small to survive long term. Jewish land acquisitions exacerbated the situation. As a result, many Arab workers moved to the dismal slums that had begun to proliferate around coastal cities, especially Haifa and Jaffa.
Poor Muslims who had streamed there regularly returned to their villages for seasonal work and married spouses from their birthplaces. When the 1948 War broke out, they returned to their villages to avoid the military conflict. This was especially the case after news of the Deir Yasim massacre was broadcast throughout Arab communities. At this village, just outside Jerusalem, Jewish forces were indiscriminate in their response to the unexpected resistance they encountered, bombing structures without concern for civilian casualties. As a result, an estimated 110 Arabs were killed, half noncombatants.
The Palestinian leadership more than doubled the numbers, claiming inaccurately that many were killed after the combat had ended. Their goal was to counter the reluctance of Arab countries to send troops after British rule ended. The immediate effect, however, was to instill fear of what would happen if Zionist forces attacked Arab villages. As a result, many Arabs fled even before their villages were attacked. For these reasons, some important historians, including Benny Morris and Meron Benvenisti, distinguish between the 350,000 refugees by the end of May 1948 and the similar numbers afterward. They argue that military efforts and considerations are responsible for the earlier group while ethnic cleansing objectives dominated the latter group.
During the first phase of the war before foreign armies entered, the Jewish forces were opposed by the Arab Liberation Army (ALA); the hoped-for indigenous army organized by the Arab League, supplemented by foreign volunteers. However, it was unable to enlist many Palestinians so that as much as 90% was comprised of foreign volunteers. Indeed, it was led by Fawzi al-Qawuqji, a Lebanese Arab nationalist, rather than a Palestinian.
He had led the foreign volunteers who had fought during the 1936-39 Arab revolt. Qawugji escaped British capture, going to Syria where he was active in the 1941 Jewish pogroms and helped install a pro-Nazi regime. When the British overthrew this new regime, Qawuqji escaped to Germany where he fought for the Nazis. Released from a Soviet prison camp in 1947, he came to Cairo and was chosen to lead the “indigenous” rebellion.
Gaining meager aid from Arab villagers, the ALA had few victories and many defeats. And a belated attempt by the Arab League to form a provisional Palestinian government failed. Most Palestinian leaders opposed him, particularly for his dictatorial policies during the Arab Revolt ten years earlier. Then he harshly responded to those who questioned any of his decisions, even assassinating some. This opposition not only rejected his provisional government but his efforts to have a say in postwar affairs in the West Bank or Gaza.
That the war was solely against the Jews is clear when the concept of the Nakba was developed. Pan-Arabism was the overriding meaning of the Nakba when first enunciated in 1948 with the publication, The Meaning of the Nakba by Constantin Zureiq, the most important Arab nationalist intellectual at the time. He saw the defeat of the Arab armies as a catastrophe for allowing an alien Jewish state within Arab lands.
In 1958, the Nakba was commemorated by radio stations of the United Arab Republic calling on the world’s Arab and Muslim states to hold a symbolic five minutes to mourn the establishment of Israel. The historian Hillel Cohen noted that there was no mention of the Palestinian displacement. Negation of Israel became the ideological foundation for Hamas and other fundamentalist Islamic organizations.
Only in the 1990s did the Nakba evolve into a focus on the refugees. At the time, Yasar Arafat was pressed to follow through on the Oslo Accords. In his negotiations, Arafat never offered an alternative map to the ones proposed by the Israeli government. Instead, he demanded an uncapped right-of-return of refugees, strengthening his case by referring to their plight as the Nakba. And for the last twenty-five years, the right-of-return has been the major stumbling block to a two-state solution, not Jewish settlements. Indeed, over this time period, there have only been three small West Bank settlements approved with virtually the entire population growth in long-time settlements around Jerusalem.
None of this denies the harshness of Zionist policies during and after the war: The ethnic clearing that dominated the second half of the war and an unwillingness to allow more than a small share of refugees to return to their villages. However, given the Nazi leadership of the Palestinian struggle, and the universal Arab unwillingness to accept any Jewish state in its midst, Zionist policies towards Arab villagers are understandable.
Finally, without a Jewish state, there would have been nowhere to go for Holocaust survivors stuck in displaced persons camps, the Mizrachi Jews when the Arab countries engaged in ethnic cleansing in the early 1950s, or Russian Jews when Soviet policies turned antisemitic. And the tens of thousands of Ethiopian Jews would have remained oppressed. Are these the images of colonial settlers that Palestinian supporters project?
Robert Cherry is an American Enterprise Institute affiliate and author of "The State of the Black Family: Sixty Years of Tragedies and Failures – and New Initiatives Offering Hope."
本文於 2024/01/07 12:48 修改第 2 次
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奧特曼帝國入侵歐洲與埃及簡史 -- Connor Brighton
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2024/01/05 18:25 推薦1 |
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索引：
Anatolia：安納托利亞，亞洲西南部的半島，位於黑海和地中海之間。
Battle of Kosovo：科索沃戰役(1389)
Battle of Nicopolis：尼科波利斯戰役(1396)
Battle of Varna：瓦爾納戰役(1444)
Janissary system：耶尼切里軍團，也譯為加尼沙里軍團、新軍、禁衛軍或蘇丹親兵，是奧特曼帝國的常備軍隊與蘇丹侍衛的統稱。
levy：徵兵(此處用法)；徵稅，課稅；徵收額；稅款；徵兵額
Mamluks：布爾吉王朝(此處用法)；奴隸
Ottoman Interregnum (1402-1413)：奧特曼帝國大空位期
Thrace：色雷斯 (極具歷史和地緣政治價值的地區，位於歐洲東南部)
Turkik tribes：突厥族
The Ottoman Empire: Early Expansion Into Europe And Egypt
Connor Brighton, 01/02/24
Starting from humble beginnings, the Ottoman Empire would grow to become one of the largest and most powerful empires the world has ever known. Spanning across three continents, at the height of its power in the 16th century, tens of millions of people lived under its rule. The standard of living, prosperity, and wealth that the Ottomans ushered into their lands had not been seen since the time of the Romans.
While the influence and prestige of the empire slowly faded after the failed Siege of Vienna in 1683, the Ottoman's quick and sudden rise to power was nothing short of extraordinary. Beginning as an insignificant nomadic tribe from Central Asia, the Ottomans grew into a mighty empire in only a few short centuries and would last until the end of the First World War.
The story of the Ottoman Empire begins with Osman I. In 1299 AD, in the wake of the Mongol invasion of the Middle East, dozens of Turkik tribes had flooded into Anatolia. One of these tribes was under the rule of Osman I. Osman was a cunning and capable leader who was incredibly perceptive of the weaknesses of his neighbors. Both the other Turkic tribes and the ever-weakening Byzantine Empire were ripe for the taking. Osman conquered the Byzantine province of Bithynia and then moved to eliminate his fellow Turkic chiefs who threatened his rule.
By 1345, Osman was dead, but his forebearers continued to conquer in his name. The Ottomans controlled a sizeable plot of land in Anatolia and were now in the position to make the daring cross into Europe. The Byzantines, who controlled much of Thrace, were weak and preoccupied with petty internal squabbles. Now was the perfect time to strike.
Into The Balkans
The Ottoman and Byzantine clashed in many wars in the middle of the 14th century. With each conflict, the Ottomans slowly chipped away at what remained of a once great empire. Soon, the Ottomans controlled both Thrace and Macedonia, and it was not long before the Byzantines were left stranded within the walls of their capital city, Constantinople.
Not only did the Byzantines suffer at the hands of the newly arrived Ottomans, but so did the rest of the nations within the Balkans. In 1389, the Ottomans managed to conquer Serbia at the Battle of Kosovo and then destroyed a Crusader force at the Battle of Nicopolis in 1396, bringing Bulgaria into the fold as well.
In 1402, the Ottomans would enter into a chaotic and bloody civil war known as the Ottoman Interregnum but emerged from it in 1413 as strong as ever. For the next 30 years, Ottoman sultans made concerted efforts to hold and consolidate their power. In 1444, the Ottomans defeated yet another Crusading army at the Battle of Varna. With no more external threats on the horizon, the Ottomans were finally free to snuff out their stubborn Byzantine rivals once
The Fall Of Rome In The East
Under the command of Mehmed the Conqueror, the Ottoman army laid siege to Constantinople in 1453. This was not the first time the city had been under siege by the Ottomans. In previous decades, Ottoman armies had attacked the city but were unsuccessful, thanks to the near impenetrable walls of Constantinople. Constructed in the times of the Roman Empire, the Theodocian Walls that protected the city had remained its strongest deterrent since the city was first founded more than 1000 years ago. However, this time was different.
Mehmed had come well prepared. Unlike the previous failed attempts to take the city, Mehmed introduced a new and devastating weapon into the equation. In preparation for the monumental task of taking Constantinople, Mehmed commissioned the construction of enormous siege cannons known as bombards to take down the formidable walls of the city.
The Byzantines put up stiff resistance against the Ottomans, but their defenses could not withstand the power of the Ottoman cannons. The city was finally conquered, and with it, the last vestige of the Roman Empire was gone. Mehmed the Conqueror named Constantinople the new capital of his empire and spent the rest of his time as sultan consolidating his power.
The Mamluks
Since the capture of Constantinople, the relationship between the two Muslim powers, the Ottomans and the Mamluks, became tense at best. Both empires now controlled lands that relied heavily on the lucrative spice trade in Asia and wanted to eliminate the competition whenever possible. The Ottomans were also interested in controlling the Muslim holy cities of Mecca and Medina, both of which were protected by the Mamluks. After defeating a Persian army in Iraq in 1514, the Ottomans turned their entire attention to destroying this newfound rival in Egypt at the soonest possible moment. In 1516, the Ottomans pounced when the Mamluks were vulnerable, declaring they were the oppressors of Muslims and had no right to govern over the holy cities.
Both sides could muster armies numbering nearly 60,000 men each, but this was far from a fair fight. The Ottoman army consisted of professional soldiers who had just seen combat only two years before in Iraq, while the bulk of the Mamluk force consisted of poorly trained and equipped conscripts. The battles that took place all resulted in decisive Ottoman victories, and within only two years of the outbreak of the war, the Ottomans controlled all of Syria, Palestine, Egypt, and the holy cities within Arabia.
Professional Armies And Slave Soldiers
The key to Ottoman military success in the early years of the empire can be directly attributed to their professional army. One of the first of its kind, as early as the middle of the 14th century, the Ottomans maintained an army that was made up of professional full-time soldiers, a far cry from the peasant levies that still formed large segments of rival militaries. In the late 14th century, the Janissary system was introduced, only bolstering the Ottoman army even further. As they conquered Christian lands in the Balkans, the Ottomans would take the young boys of Christian families and train them from a young age to become soldiers.
Converting them to Islam as boys and having them swear loyalty to the sultan, the Janissaries were some of the most effective and loyal soldiers of their day. Sworn to not take wives they instead dedicated their lives to the sultan. Numerous times throughout the Ottoman Empire's history, it was these slave soldiers who turned the tide in battles time and time again. The Janissaries would eventually turn into an incredibly powerful and influential faction within Ottoman politics, often to the detriment of the empire, but that was centuries after the fact.
The Ottoman rise to power is perhaps one of the most remarkable and sudden success stories for any empire in history. Not only was it able to gain power, but it was also able to maintain it well into the 20th century, something that many other upstart conquerors failed to accomplish. Lasting more than 600 years, it is nothing short of extraordinary that the Ottomans were able to conquer so successfully and hold on to the areas they annexed so stubbornly despite the best efforts of their rivals. Today, the modern nation of Turkey inherits its legacy, albeit with much less of an emphasis on invading neighboring countries.
相關閱讀：
WHY DID THE OTTOMAN EMPIRE FALL?
Ottoman Empire officially ended in 1922, and the Republic of Turkey was established shortly after.
本文於 2024/01/05 18:26 修改第 1 次
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何以「歐洲黑暗時代」其實並非那樣不堪 – Robbie Mitchell
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2023/12/28 18:43 推薦1 |
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這篇文章用淺顯的文字指出「歐洲黑暗時代」這個觀念的錯誤，以及它後面的偏見。對此議題有興趣的朋友，可以參考以下兩文。
Scholars Cringe at the Term ‘Dark Ages.’ Dan Jones Explains Why.
Slaughtering conventional history’s sacred cows
Why the Dark Ages Weren't Really All That Dark
ROBBIE MITCHELL, UPDATED 12/26/23
For hundreds of years, a period often referred to as ‘the Dark Ages’, covering the 5th to the 10th centuries, was looked down upon by historians, especially during the Renaissance and Enlightenment eras. It was seen as a dormant period during which art and intellectualism languished. Thankfully more modern historians have taken a more balanced view. Far from a dormant period, it stands as a dynamic era defined by human resilience and innovation. From the meticulous manuscripts in monasteries to the towering cathedrals, the Dark Ages unveiled a nuanced chapter in history. In many ways, the Dark Ages weren’t so dark, and common people lived better lives than their counterparts would have during the so-revered classical period.
Redefining the Dark Ages: The Good Old Days
Ever had an elderly relative complain that things aren’t as good today as they were in the “good old days”? Well, that’s pretty much where the whole myth surrounding the Dark Ages began. People complaining.
In 476 AD the Western Roman Empire officially ended when the last Roman emperor, Romulus Augustulus, was deposed by the Germanic chieftain Odoacer. From this point onwards what had once been the glorious Roman Empire was divided up by numerous Germanic peoples who, understandably, ignored old Roman traditions and brought in their own.
Those educated enough to be writing at the time, men like St. Jerome and St. Patrick in the fifth century, Gregory of Tours in the sixth, and Bede in the eighth tended to have a strong Roman bias and began writing how things under the Germanic tribes weren’t as good as under the Romans. To an extent, they had a point.
In some ways, these Germanic tribes simply weren’t as advanced. For example, innovations like Roman concrete and many other engineering marvels were lost and the literacy rate plummeted. However, these drawbacks were heavily exaggerated by later scholars.
The actual idea of the “Dark Ages” comes from a mid-14th century Italian scholar, Petrarch, who divided all of history into two periods- the Classical and the Dark Ages (which he believed he lived in). To Petrarch, the Classical period was a time when the Greeks and Romans had showered the world with intellectual and philosophical achievements. The Dark Ages on the other hand were a period of stagnation where nothing could live up to the ‘Good Old Days.” It was a case of rose-tinted glasses.
Petrarch wasn’t alone either. The 9th-century Carolingian writer Walahfrid Strabo had made similar comments centuries earlier, bemoaning he hadn’t gotten to live in the more enlightened times of the Carolingian Renaissance (which we’ll come to later) under Charlemagne.
Petrarch’s idea of a Dark Age took root and inspired later historians and writers. When the Renaissance came along between the 15th and 17th centuries the humanists lapped up Petrarch’s idea of a barbaric medieval past. It played right into their belief that they were reviving long-lost classical culture.
The Enlightenment Plays Along
The reputation of the Dark Ages only got worse during the Enlightenment of the 17th and 18th centuries. Humanists had a problem with the Dark Ages because they saw it as a time when Latin language, literature, and culture had languished. The Protestants on the other hand saw it as a time during which the Catholic Church had grown fat and corrupt. It’s these criticisms that led the scholars of the Enlightenment to declare war on the Dark Ages.
The Enlightenment was all about the pursuit of knowledge and happiness and placed great emphasis on qualities such as reason, progress, light, and freedom. Its scholars believed the Dark Ages epitomized the exact opposite. While the Dark Ages had largely been ruled over by Papal corruption, the Ancient Greeks had given the world its first true democracy.
This caused scholars like the German art historian Johann Joachim Winckelmann to argue Greek classical art was superior because it hadn’t been created under tyrannical rule. This led to the creation of a new art form, neoclassicism, designed to emphasize the superiority of everything classical over Medieval.
The only problem with this train of thought is it was wrong. The Dark Ages were arguably simply different, not worse than the classical period. By listening to medieval scholars bemoaning the loss of the “good old days” Renaissance and Enlightenment historians overlooked the many bright spots of the Dark Ages.
The Carolingian Renaissance Would Like a Word
For a start, this way of thinking completely ignores the Carolingian Renaissance. In 768 AD Pepin the Short, a Frankish king, died and his two sons inherited his entire kingdom. One of them, Carloman, died a few years after his father while the other survived.
The survivor’s name was Karl but after taking complete control he became known as the legendary King Charlemagne, also known as Charles the Great. Through at least 50 massive military campaigns he took anyone who stood in his way- the Muslim rulers of Spain, the Bavarians, the Saxons in Germany, and Italy’s Lombards. As he did so the Frankish Empire grew into a medieval powerhouse. Where Charlemagne went, he spread his Catholic faith with him and in 800 AD Pope Leo III crowned Charlemagne “emperor of the Romans.”
Charlemagne became known as the “Holy Roman Emperor,” a nod to how many believed his rule would take Europe back to the glory days of the Roman Empire. The king lived up to his new title, creating a centralized state whose buildings were inspired by Roman architecture.
Charlemagne also pushed educational reform and worked hard to ensure the preservation of ancient Latin texts. It was also during this time that a standard handwriting script, Carolingian minuscule, was invented.
Going beyond nice penmanship, it standardized things like punctuation, spacing, and the use of upper and lower cases. This in turn revolutionized literacy and reading and made it that much easier to produce books and other texts.
Unfortunately, the Carolingian Renaissance was a bit of a flash in the pan. Charlemagne died in 814 AD and his dynasty didn’t survive much longer after him. Still, its contributions to literature, art, and education provided the foundations for techniques used during the Renaissance and Enlightenment centuries later.
The Rise of the Catholic Church
During the Enlightenment much was made of the corrupting power of the Catholic Church during the Dark Ages. The Dark Ages were both a barbaric time and a time when the Catholic Church ruled with an iron fist. But the truth is a little more nuanced.
Ignoring Charlemagne’s little renaissance in the early years of the Dark Ages it is somewhat true that Europe lacked a unifying power like the Roman Empire to keep everything in check. But that was quickly fixed by the rise of the Catholic Church.
The spread of Catholicism meant many of medieval Europe’s kings and queens derived most of their power from their relationship with the church. As the papacy grew in strength, beginning with Gregory the Great (590-604) monarchs couldn’t monopolize power like they had during the Roman Empire. No man was bigger than God (or the Pope). While it’s true that the rot eventually set in and the Popes became mind-bogglingly corrupt, it wasn’t all bad.
Religion and Education
The power the Catholic Church wielded during this period led Protestant Reformers and Enlightenment thinkers to call it dark. In particular, they wrote that during the Dark Ages, the popes and their clergy had done their best to repress intellectual thinking and scientific advancement.
However, this way of thinking ignores the rise of monasticism and how the early Christian monasteries actively encouraged both literacy and learning. Many medieval monks adored the arts and were artists themselves, they didn’t just sit around praying all day.
Take for example Benedict of Nursia (480-543), founder of the great monastery of Montecassin. His Benedictine Rule, as it came to be known, provided a comprehensive guide for communal life in a monastery, emphasizing prayer, work, and study. It quickly spread across Europe and inspired many Western monasteries.
Benedict believed that “Idleness is the enemy of the soul” and the monks who followed his rule often became great scholars. They believed that monks should do manual as well as intellectual and spiritual labor. Which sounds pretty enlightened for the Dark Ages.
Advances in Science and Mathematics
There’s long been the idea that the Catholic Church suppressed the sciences during the Dark Ages, especially when it came to medical science and the study of things like dissections and autopsies. This is true to an extent- scientists certainly had to be careful to make sure anything they discovered didn’t contradict Catholic teachings or threaten the church’s rule.
However, the idea that there was basically no scientific advancement during the period is a gross exaggeration. There were scientific advancements, they just came a little slower than during the classical period.
This way of thinking also completely ignores the Islamic World, which was most definitely not suffering a dark period. During the Dark Ages, the Islamic world made leaps and bounds in the realms of both math and sciences, building on the work of ancient Greek texts that had been translated into Arabic.
The Compendious Book on Calculation by Completion and Balancing, written by al-Khwarizmi (a Persian), might be a bit of a mouthful but it revolutionized mathematics and gave Europe algebra. Not only did it introduce the first systematic solution of linear and quadratic equations, but it also gave us the decimal points that we still use today. The word algorithm even comes from the Latinized version of the author’s name.
Basically, when Renaissance and Enlightenment writers bemoaned the Dark Ages, they were completely ignoring many of the advancements made by Islamic thinkers during the period. White Europeans marginalizing the achievements of another ethnic group? It certainly wasn’t the first, or last time.
The Rule of Law
The romanticization of Greek and Roman civilization also tended to ignore the many, many downsides of being alive during that time. Like the fact that for most people (like slaves) it was really, really unpleasant.
The early Middle Ages was a period during which fairer systems of law began to prevail. These law systems were far from perfect for sure, but they tended to do a better job at protecting “normal” people. Traveling merchants were protected by Lex Mercatoria (Law Merchant) which featured the idea of arbitration and was designed to protect merchants and encourage good practices between traders.
Anglo-Saxon Law during the early Middle Ages focused on keeping the peace and protecting people. While it eventually became harsher and more draconian, for a long time it was relatively flexible and fair.
While later scholars looked down on the many changes made by the Germanic peoples they brought in Early Germanic Law. These laws ensured everyone the right to be tried by their own people and were designed to protect people from the dangers of ignorance and cultural prejudice. Many of the laws founded during the Dark Ages form the basis for laws still in action in much of Europe today.
Weather and Agriculture- It Literally Wasn’t Very Dark
It’s not just the new laws that made the Dark Ages a “not so bad” time to be alive. The weather was also surprisingly good. The period’s name tends to conjure up images of dark skies, rain, and snow but in reality, the Dark Ages was a period of warming for the north Atlantic region.
By the High Middle Ages (around 1100 AD) Europe was well into a period now called the Medieval Warm Period. It was particularly beneficial for the Vikings who, thanks to melting ice, could finally colonize Greenland and its neighbors.
For the rest of Europe, it meant an agricultural boom. The improved weather, alongside improved agricultural knowledge, meant there was plenty of food. In fact, there was such a surplus of food that livestock could be fed on grains, not grass which upped production.
At the same time feudalism (despite its many downsides) encouraged efficient land management and in many areas introduced the idea of crop rotation. It was also built on reciprocal relationships of obligation. Lords were expected to protect their vassals, and in return, vassals provided military service.
This interdependence could foster a sense of security within the feudal structure. Meaning contrary to popular belief the Dark Ages weren’t such a bad time to be a peasant and were much better than during the Roman Empire.
Conclusion
In revisiting the often-misunderstood epoch labeled the Dark Ages, it becomes evident that beneath the conventional narrative of stagnation lay a tapestry of vibrant achievements. Sure, most people were certainly worse off than today but, in many ways, they didn’t have things so bad.
Art and literature still thrived, science wasn’t as stagnant as once believed, and the lower classes in particular were much better off than they had been during the classical period. There is an important lesson to be learned when examining the Dark Ages, be wary of rose-tinted glasses and the allure of the good old days. It’s easy to look around at the state of the world compared to the past and point out all the things that are wrong with it. Someone should have told Petrarch that the grass isn’t always greener on the other side.
‘Just’ War and Martialism in Dark Age Britain
Were the Dark Ages Really Dark?
Forged Medieval Charters: How To Rewrite History In The Middle Ages
Caught Red-Handed! Law and Order in Medieval England
本文於 2023/12/28 18:44 修改第 1 次
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