Featured
John Buchan draws a distinction between political changes brought by violence and those brought by progress.
John Buchan’s historical research and long experience in Government led him to believe that revolutions achieved little. Political betterment, he argued, comes not from violent overthrow by small, ideologically-driven groups of activists but from the natural wasting away of repression owing to popular dislike.
John Buchan, who was as close as anyone to the events, gave his assessment of how all Europe was plunged into war in 1914.
The Great War of 1914-18 was triggered by the assassination of the heir to the throne of Austria-Hungary, Franz Ferdinand. But as John Buchan explains here, the war had been coming for some time. Germany was ambitious for empire, and that meant taking empire from her neighbours. She was also anxious, sensing military threats and economic competitors on all sides. Her wisdom was to strike first, hoping that if she did she would not have to strike again.
Governor Pitiorek assured the heir to the Austrian Empire that Bosnians rarely tried to murder the same man twice in one day.
In 1878, Serbia broke free from the Ottoman Empire, but thirty years later, Austria seized Bosnia from Serbia. The snatch was bitterly resented, and on June 28th, 1914, Bosnian Serbs could be found on the streets of Sarajevo celebrating the first anniversary of Serbia’s recovery of Kosovo from Turkish rule. It was amidst this swelling of Serbian national pride that Archduke Franz Ferdinand, heir presumptive to the throne of Austria-Hungary, chose to make an official visit.
The study of history can distract us from pressing modern problems, but failing to study it is much worse.
John Buchan — novelist, wartime spymaster, and Governor-general of Canada — was also a historian in his own right, and the editor-in-chief of the multi-volume Nations of Today just after the Great War. In his introduction, Buchan picked up on George Santayana’s famous warning that ‘those who cannot learn from history are doomed to repeat it’.
Sir Edward Leithen finds himself revising his opinion of the ‘detestable’ Koré Arabin.
Sir Edward Leithen, a forty-something lawyer of great distinction, ran across Corrie Arabin at a dance party given by his cousin-of-sorts, Mollie Nantley. ‘The girl is detestable’ was his first thought. But after Corrie — or more rightly Koré, a Greek name — turned to him for help in resolving a legal dispute with Athens, Ned’s feelings for the young woman began to change.
A good knowledge of history is essential if we are to understand words such as liberty and democracy.
In his introduction to a series of studies on world history, John Buchan (1875-1940) recalled that the great historian Lord Acton had uncovered as many as two hundred definitions of ‘liberty.’ A study of history, said Buchan, is the only way to untangle these various definitions — as it is for other catchwords of our own day such as ‘democracy’ and ‘populism.’
Jaikie has just graduated from Cambridge, and Alison wants to know what he has gained from his experience.
John ‘Jaikie’ Galt has taken Alison Westwater to dinner at a palatial London hotel to celebrate his graduation from St Mark’s College, Cambridge. Alison wants to know what Jaikie has learnt at University, and it isn’t anything found on a modular ‘Outcomes’ statement.