BOOK I: THE RENAISSANCE
PART THREE: THE WHEELS OF COMMERCE
I
The Role of Land, Sea, and Economics in History
PART THREE: THE WHEELS OF COMMERCE
I
The Role of Land, Sea, and Economics in History
In the history of economics, it is easy to gloss over the Renaissance in favor of a close examination of the Industrial Revolution of the 18th century and onward for the myth of material progress and the rise of capitalism. The reality is, however, that the seeds of the economic revolution which exploded in the mid to late 18th century were already laid long before that, back in the Renaissance and even earlier to some extent. Not to mention that the transformation and revolution in warfare was also expediting the radical changes to national economies as they had to develop to sustain larger and more professional armies with standardized equipment. To some extent, the economic changes of the late Renaissance would culminate in the Protestant Reformation – that mother of all revolutions – as Friedrich Engels aptly described in his book on the long and arduous struggle that was the Peasant War in Germany.[1]
But the struggle of empires and civilizations have often risen and fallen along economic lines: The Fertile Crescent, to the Silk Road, to the great struggle between Carthage and Rome over the Western Mediterranean and the trade routes and lines of commerce established by that great Punic republic crushed by the bloody light that was Rome. But the founding fathers of Carthage, as we should know, were from those great Phoenician seafarers who, during the reign of Solomon, had already traversed much of the Mediterranean and established colonies as far as North Africa: Tunisia, Algeria, and Morocco, which consummated Tyre’s great wealth and power that made Solomon and his concubines blush. The sea, of course, has always held great potential for humans if she could be tamed.
Even the rise of alphabetic script can be credited to Phoenician sailing and commerce, for the Greeks and other Mediterranean peoples took from the Phoenicians their alphabet as they set up shop around the Mediterranean world. Some would say that commerce is the universal language. This has, undoubtedly, a certain merit to it; especially considering the role of commercial trade with the developing of alphabetic script and the ease by which enhanced communication was derived as a result of this. Contrast with the landed economy of China, which never developed such an alphabetic script, because, in some sense, they never needed to do so.
FIGURE 1: A map of Phoenician trade routes. Commercial trade, for better or worse, has had a tremendous impact upon human development, or regression, and human history.
From the earliest accounts of element ontology, there has been a struggle to understand man as either an animal of the clay or a beast of the sea. The Enuma Elish, for example, recounts the great struggle of Tiamut – the chaotic and uncontrollable sea goddess of death and destruction – and Marduk, the future head of the Babylonian pantheon, the god of the land and order. In slaying Tiamut, and taking her blood, Marduk created man from the dust of the earth to toil in servitude to the gods but within a space of order and stability. The wrestling back of Leviathan by Yahweh in the Tanakh, and the references to the beating back of Leviathan in the Psalms, gives us a great picture into early ontology and the separation between the open but chaotic and dangerous sea with the closed, orderly, and stable garden of the earth.
The contest between land and sea has, as a result, been a driving force in human history. The contest between tellurocracy and thalassocracy being a given among the ancient epics and myths, now carried over between the great struggles of the Sea Peoples and Egypt, Athens and Sparta, and Carthage and Rome. After all, in Pericles’ funeral oration as recounted by Thucydides, Athens was great and exception because she was the city “open to the world,” with her ships and merchants stretching far and wide and returning with many exotic and foreign goods for her citizens. But that wall of a land power, Sparta, was in the way of the Athenian dream of consummating a universal empire that stretched from the Anatolian coasts down the coasts of Libya, Sicily, and Carthage. The wheels of progress could not be stopped; after all, when Corcyra (the second greatest naval power) was in trouble by Corinth (another great Greek land power) the Corcyreans turned to Athens (that greatest of naval powers) and told them it was in their interest (navally speaking) to come to their aid.
While Homer described the Greeks and Trojans as great sea powers, it cannot be understated that Greece was, in Homer’s romantic mind, the great sea power as she had always been. For when the Greeks gathered the largest army ever assembled at that time in the annals of warfare, landing on the shores of Troy, and then engaging the great walled city and her earthbound warriors and princes, the struggle Behemoth and Leviathan was brought to a whole new level eventually leading to the destruction of the garden that was Troy and the flight of Aeneas to Rome. To that end, if I may speculate, Virgil’s Aeneid is not merely part political propaganda as it is mythological in grafting into Roman consciousness an understanding that she was always meant to be a great sea power and not merely a land power, for part of the Trojan tradition was her seafaring prowess, as Homer tells us, and the fact that Virgil opens his great epic on the high seas and the dangers facing Aeneas and his countrymen from Juno’s wrath.
The Romans, for their part, as they were growing beyond the confines of Italy, struggled with the reality that they were now enveloped by the sea monster that was Carthage. Having been humiliated at the Battle of Lipari, the Romans turned to what they knew best: land engagement. Realizing that they could not defeat the Carthaginians in a fair naval battle, the Romans developed the corvus – a ramping bridge that would be lowered onto the deck of Carthaginian ships allowing for Roman soldiers to rush across and massacre the sailors with sword and spear. The resulting Battle of Mylae was not a conventional naval battle at all; it was a land battle fought on floating platforms. The victory of Rome, and her transition from landed republic to sea-faring empire, was captured so poetically and deftly by Virgil that it ought to make one weep for the genius of that great saint who guided Dante through hell and purgatory.
And so it was that at the height of the Renaissance, the glowing and shining reflection of gold coins reflected from the sun glistening over the Mediterranean. Italian traders stretched from the Iberia to Egypt. Constantinople, still a center of trade, though fading, had a merchant quarter that was home to at least a dozen languages which made business difficult if one didn’t have multiple translators with them.
But the long history of sea and land power clashes was to come to ahead between Angevin France and the Ottomans in 1576 at Lefkada when the two great sea and land powers contested for supremacy over both the land and sea at the center of the world. With Ottoman forces marching over Budapest and threatening Vienna, and with the scrapped together Catholic Holy Alliance assembled by Pope Alexander VII (himself the former Bishop Cardinal of Anjou) and King Louis-Joseph I, with help from Spain; France, that great land power on the continent, and the Ottoman Empire, that great land power from the Orient, were now engaged in a bloody struggle over the sea at the center of the world which had long been fixation of dreamers, schemers, and madman as the Turks and French sought to be the hybrid Behemoth and Leviathan rather than solely Behemoth or solely Leviathan.
FIGURE 2 (left): Count Thibaud de Saint Victoret at the Battle of Lefkada; FIGURE 3 (right): ‘Abd al-Mu’min Saber at the Battle of Lefkada.
Part of the temptation and struggle over the sea was not merely the commercial and economic gains that would be won if Tiamut was beaten and tamed into submission; but prideful and sinful men and their egos in their ever enlarging lust for domination. For what could possibly satisfy the lust for domination better than the crashing waves and waters of the sea begging for brave and illustrious men to venture out on her domain and tame her and bring her into submission? As has become customary in postmodern readings of history and environmental and elemental language to described the horrors and exploits, and advances, of history, I have not the gall to describe what should already be self-evident to the reader.
Nevertheless, as the wheels of commerce spun ever faster, and the sails of trade expanded across the Mediterranean and prepared to set sail over the Atlantic and into the Indian Ocean, those who closely read classical texts will be quick to realize this contest of land and sea, economics and empire, and their impact on history, from the creation of Adam to the exploits of Odysseus, the trials of Hercules, the vanity of Nebuchadnezzar, to the dream of Athens, Carthage, Rome, Constantinople, and London. Goethe, for his part, romanticized to the landed Germans the temptation and dream of the sea; “those who have never seen themselves surrounded on all sides by the sea can never possess an idea of the world, and of their relation to it.” Undoubtedly lamenting the reality of the British, Dutch, and French colonies to Germany’s landed and untenable position – divided, and not even the great continental land power in the face of French universalism, Goethe saw the sea as the great driving force of history. The fate of man, and of Europa, to some extent, was decided on the sea on that fateful July morning in 1576.
[1] Friedrich Engels, The Peasant War in Germany.
SUGGESTED READING
Fernand Braudel, Civilization and Capitalism, Vol. 2: The Wheels of Commerce
Fernand Braudel, Civilization and Capitalism, Vol. 2: The Wheels of Commerce
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