PASSING NOTES

Otago Daily Times, Issue 24817, 17 January 1942, Page 4

PASSING NOTES

Some one has said that the best training ground for the young historical researcher is an investigation into the errors of Macaulay. If this be true, it would suggest that in the writing of history the last word can never be said. Which was evidently the opinion of the eminent American historian, Henry Adams, who, in reply to a questioning letter, said “ I have written too much history to believe in it; so, if any one wants to differ from me I am prepared to agree with him.” Grave reflections are hereby cast on history in general, and in the documentation of it. A well-documented, elaborately foot-noted history may require that the “ documents ” should themselves be “ documented.” For, says Liddell Hart. “ nothing can deceive like a document.” Not unknown in political history are complete reversals of view. In military history such reversals are common. Great reputations are lost, lost reputations are regained: fuller comprehension brings extenuation or even justification. For, very often, " comprendre c'est tout pardonner.” If these considerations are enough to make a prudent professional historian pause before he judges, even when he has “ documents ” before him, quite unseemly and even ludicrous is it for the amateur, without any “ documents ’’ whatsoever, to make his snap judgments on contemporary happenings, to go scapegoathunting, to raise hasty outcries against faulty strategy, and to shout “nincompoops ” and “ sack the lot.” It may turn out in the end that the “ nincompoops” were all the time at the other end of the wire.'

Flung more widely, more confused by emotional broadcasts and by false reports spread by wireless as part of military technique, a history of the present war will be more difficult to check than that of the last. And the checking of details of the last war was difficult enough. Mentioned by Liddell Hart are two sources of this confusion, which may be taken as symbolical:— When the British front was broken in France in March. 1918, and French reinforcements came to help in fining the gap, an eminent French general arrived at a certain army headquarters. and there majestically dictated orders giving the line on which his troops were to stand that night and to start their counter-attack in the morning. After reading it with some perplexity, the British commander exclaimed, "But that line is behind the German front: you lost it yesterday.” To which he received the reply, delivered with a knowing smile, “ C’est pour I’histoire." (This is for history.) If ancient authorities were as “ his-tory-conscious ” as this French general, what would become of history as a whole?

A second source "of confusion is suggested by a post-war article contributed to a leading military organ of his country by a distinguished German general, entitled “ Why can’t we camouflage? ” He says; Why should It be deemed necessary to mention In the account of the East Prussian campaign that our troops had given way to panic on certain occasions, and that the roads had been blocked by fugitive fransport vehicles? . . . When only six or eight individuals out of six or eight million Germans engaged were concerned with strategic decisions, why unveil their warts? Significant of this method of camouflaging history is the new German Penal Code which lays down that to dig up from past history things offensive to German honour is an offence punishable by hard labour, whether the statements be true or not. When Napoleon was projecting his invasion of England—while his flatbottomed boats were already lying at Boulogne—he sought to encourage the French by exhibiting in Paris the famous Bayeux tapestry. This oldtime piece of sampler-work gave an immense pictorial representation of William the Conqueror's conquest of England. According to the New Statesman, a report is now current that the Nazis are once again exhibiting the tapestry as propaganda, forgetting that, while the Bayeux tapestry exhibits the Gallic cock crowing after its triumph, Napoleon was counting Gallic chickens before they were hatched. A crude but vigorous piece of work is this tapestry—23o feet long and 20 inches wide, divided into 72 scenes, containing figures of 623 persons. 762 horses, dogs and other animals, 37 buildings, and 41 ships or boats. The colours are fully indicative of the highly-tinted hopes of both Napoleon and Hitler, and just as remote from sober reality. No attempt is made to show local colour. Horses, dogs, etc., are blue, green, red. or yellow, as may have suited the material available. A blue horse may have its off-legs red, a yellow horse green, and so on. The story is fully told, extending from Harold's departure from France before the death of Edward the Confessor, down to the Battle of Hastings, the (light of the English, and Harold’s death and the arrow in his eye. Thus do the Nazi propagandists try to show that Hitler the Conqueror could easily do what William the Conqueror did. and that from Nazi gauleiters would spring a new English aristocracy all of whom “ came over.”

To a laudable desire for economy in time, space and trouble is due the present growing craze for abbreviations and initials. No doubt the last war began it. Then we had such abbreviations as the well-known “ Dora ”i (Defence of the Realm Act) and “Bawra” (British and Australian Wool Realisation Association), not to speak of “Anzac,” “Waac,” etc. A jocular test of mild intelligence in early post-war days was the deciphering of “Unless U 8 in a Q UCO CU.” But jocular though this was, the matter soon passed beyond a joke. The practice spread to sober economics. Economic questions in Britain and America, at no

time as clear as distilled water, became more and more muddied by a kigd of shorthand. When American reviews at the beginning of the New Deal turmoil, introduced the abbreviations NRA and AAA we knew what was meant. Encouraged by the absence of protest, they ran amok. Their pages bristled like a porcupine’s back with RFC, BMT, CWA, PWA, BLS, AFL. What these mean now, heaven only knows. Diligent reading of previous articles might now give the economic student some notion of the connotation of these inscriptions. But who has time for that? From a mistaken desire to economise their own

time these economists came along and wasted ours. Small wonder is it that many of us, after wading through this Hood of acadabra, most of which is now out of dale, would feel inclined to lump them all together under another abbreviation—N.B.G.

To these abbreviations there is evidently no end. Recently we have had ODM (for Office of Production Management), and OPACS (Oulco of Price Administration and Civilian Supply), and MAP (Ministry of Aircraft Production). But these are easy. According to a northern paper the report is current that the American abbreviation “Cincus” (Commander-in-Chiof U.S. Fleet) has been changed to “ Cominchus ”

It is also stated that the Commander-in-chief of the U.S. Atlantic Fleet is known as “Cinclant.” Will this in its turn be changed to “ Cominchlant ”? Does this American change imply that abbreviation by Initials is being superseded by forms foreshadowing the “ portmanteau word ”? Of this the original and perfect type is Lewis Carroll’s “ slithy ’’—meaning “ lithe ” and “ slimy ” —made up of the blended sounds and combining the meanings of two distinct words. “ You see, it’s like a portmanteau—there are two meanings packed up into one word.” An increasing use of such “ portmanteau words ” would seriously diminish the revenue of the Telegraph Department, and for the telegraph clerk it would make life not worth living.

Now that the moving spirit of the motor industry has been placed in its concentration camp, many a motor driver will once more be put upon his feet. He will regret the days when his spirit was so willing and his flesh so weak. Motor cars, in short, will soon be driven off the road —not by (he careless and incompetent driver,

as they used to be; but by a careful and competent Government. Shanks's old mare will come back into her own. Or, if she be not available, the horse will resume his empire over the roads which he once ruled for countless centuries. No doubt it will be said that road traffic will now be safer, since

“horse sense” is more to be depended upon than horse-power. But what is “horse sense”? Is a horse distinguished for its sense? Which brings us to discuss the intelligence of the horse. The testing of human intelligence being now a commonplace, educational investigators have already sought new worlds to conquer. And the animal creation is even now being put through the examination hoop. Soon, but not very soon, IQ's and percentages. will fix for all time a new hierarchy for the birds of the air and the beasts of the fields and woods. And many an established animal reputation will then be blasted. Wearied to death are we with-.the ant and the bee as a reproach to the sluggard. Bored to extinction are we with the elephant's intelligence and memory, feeding fat for seven long years tije ancient grudges he owes. Both ant and bee have long since been proved to be stupid, and the elephant? Neither in (lie-elephant nor in man is a tenacious memory synonymous with intelligence.

Among the wilder animals—Communists all of them—intelligence of sorts is a necessity of living. For the fools among them live not long on the land. Not so with domestic animals like the horse, cow or sheep. They lose their intelligence by long association with man. who thinks for them. Recently an American investigator intelligence-tested 72 horses, 48 cows and 11 sheep. These are now duly IQ'ed. The cow moves up from second place to first, and the horse and the sheep are bracketed as poor seconds, equal. No longer can the horse fool the world with his reputation for “ horse sense.” He is an automaton, learning mechanically, responding instinctively to human guidance. And his docility is boosted as intelligence by his unintelligent master. Cows, in which still waters run deeper, catch on to things more quickly, remember better, and the champion milk producer has the highest IQ. The woolgathering sheep may be taught tricks like a dog. He can whisk a handkerchief out of your pocket, roll out the barrel, and even shake hands like a gentleman. Raise not the argument of the blind imitation of the sheep. If you hold out a stick for one sheep to jump over, the whole flock will follow suit, long after the stick has been withdrawn. But what of this? Highly intelligent men do just the same in many a daily habit. Civls.