markus meecham
Banned
Noise and explosions are fun, and fireworks are expensive, yo.
See any marriage in lebanon/rajasthan.
King Theodore's Corsica
- Thread starter Carp
- Start date
See any marriage in lebanon/rajasthan.
Also much of the Balkans IIRC. Explosions liven up any festive occasion!
markus meecham
Banned
Man i have a thing for blowing up stuff, it's just so fun!
Feeling the shockwave hitting your chest and all, fucking love it.
Relateable I once set a firework off in my ass needless to say I suffered third degree burns and get Vietnam flashbacks around fireworks now
The People’s Monarchy
The People’s Monarchy
Portrait of Theodore I, King of Corsica
Portrait of Theodore I, King of Corsica
As much as King Theodore might have wanted to rule as an “enlightened absolutist” in the style then in vogue on the continent, the country over which he now reigned had a native democratic tradition dating back to the middle ages. Even under Genoese domination this tradition had been co-opted rather than abolished, and while the elective system had lost much of its power at the “national” level it remained strong in the parishes and villages.
The birth of Corsica’s democratic tradition is generally dated to the revolt of Sambucuccio d’Alando in 1357. Genoa had recently managed to defend its ownership of Corsica from an Aragonese invasion in 1346, but their control extended only to the coasts, while most of the island was ruled by the native, pro-Aragonese feudal nobility. Sambucuccio led a popular rebellion against the feudal lords, seeking to emancipate the communes of the interior and place themselves under the protection of Genoa. This was partially accomplished; the power of the nobility was permanently shattered in most of the Diqua, but in Capo Corso and the Dila the lords managed to hold firm. From this point on the northern interior was known as the Terra del Commune, while the south was known as the Terra dei Signori, the land of the lords.
The oldest division of land in Corsica was the pieve (originating from the Latin plebs). Originally a pieve designated the area of land dependent on a single parish church, and thus pieve is often translated as “parish.” Under the new communal order established after 1358, each pieve in the Terra del Commune elected a podesta, a caporale, and several padri del commune. The podesta was not only a mayor, but acted as the chief judicial authority of the community and collected local taxes; the caporale was the leader of the pieve militia; and the padri del commune were responsible for the welfare of the people and the care of the common land, as well as having a judicial role. By the Early Modern period, churches had grown much more numerous than they had been in the Middle Ages, and those villages with churches of their own gradually established their own officers. The pieve thus became a mid-level structure, subdivided into paesi (villages) each with its own podesta and padri del commune, typically elected in the village assembly (consulta) for one-year terms. The caporale remained a pieve-level official, but in some areas this post had become hereditary.
Although the nobles of the Dila and Capo Corso had managed to weather Sambucuccio’s rebellion, the growth of Genoese authority on Corsica steadily diminished their authority, and over time communities outside the Terra del Commune began to demand democratic privileges of their own in defiance of their local lords. Although Genoa nearly lost control of the island in the middle 16th century, when Corsica was subjected to a Franco-Ottoman invasion (1553-1559) and the revolt of Sampiero Corso and his son Alfonso d’Ornano (1564-1569), the republic managed to reassert itself and passed new statutes in 1572 which extended the rights of the Terra del Commune to the entire island. Only the Genoese presidi were excepted, as they operated under their own commissioners and municipal councils.
In Corsica, the right to vote was not vested in the individual, but in the family. Every household was entitled to cast a vote at the local assembly or consulta, inevitably held at the parish church. A family had to own property in the paese to vote there, but the nature of Corsican society was such that even the poorest lavatori (peasants) were typically property owners, even if that property only amounted to a garden plot and a cottage (or even a share in a cottage). Thus, although Corsica did not have universal male suffrage - the truly indigent could not vote, nor could adult men who were not yet the head of their own household - the proportion of the voting population was much higher than in Britain, where the property requirements were far more stringent.[1]
Corsican democracy went beyond the level of the pieve. The podestas of the pieve chose ad hoc electors, called procuratori, whose role was to represent the pieve at a specific election or national consulta. The procuratori in turn elected the Dodici, or “Council of Twelve,” who were the chief magistrates of the Terra del Commune. This council initially possessed substantial power, but over the course of Genoese rule they were gradually reduced to an advisory role. The Genoese instituted a new form of election called the terziere (from terzo, “third”), in which the procuratori would choose 36 candidates from among the podestas, from whom the governor or commissario generale would select twelve to constitute the Dodici. After elective rights were granted to the whole island, the number of seats was increased to eighteen (the original twelve for the Diqua and six for the Dila), although it was still called the Dodici.
A seat on the Dodici was prestigious and came with compensation - the Genoese paid its members 50 lira per month - but by the 18th century it had little formal power. The council’s chief tasks were to advise the commissioner-general and to elect one of their own to the office of orator, who traveled to Genoa and could give complaints directly to the Genoese government. Advising and complaining, however, were the most the council could do, and over the course of the Revolution the Dodici was thoroughly discredited as a toothless bunch of Genoese stooges. Those with any backbone, like Luigi Giafferi (who was elected as orator in 1706) and Simone Fabiani, resigned their positions early on.
Despite the collapse of the Dodici in 1730, local governance at the level of the paesi and pievi kept functioning throughout the Revolution in most parts of the island. Once peace was attained, however, there was increasing pressure to reconstitute the higher tiers of elective government. The eighteen Dodici had been replaced by the 24-man Dieta, which had thus far been royally appointed, but there was some doubt as to whether this was constitutionally permissible (as the constitution of 1736 said that the Dieta should be “established and elected,” without specifying the means of election). Theodore had argued that the exigencies of war and the difficulty of summoning the procuratori made their election impractical, but once the naziunali had gained control over virtually the whole island this argument became increasingly difficult to sustain. By 1749, even Theodore realized that an elective Dieta in some form was unavoidable.
In contrast to the local government, the regional government of Corsica was a wholly Genoese invention. Genoese Corsica had been divided into four stati (states) based in the four major presidi: Bastia, Calvi, Ajaccio, and Bonifacio. Each was managed by a commissario (commissioner), with the commissioner of Bastia titled the commissario generale and given overall authority. The stati, in turn, were subdivided into the jurisdiction of the presidio and its environs as well as a number of luogotenenze (lieutenancies), each controlled by a lieutenant. The number of luogotenenze varied; Bastia had three dependent luogotenenze (Rogliano, Aleria, Corti), Ajaccio had two (Vico, Sartena), Calvi had one (Algajola), and Bonifacio had none at all.
As the military governments of the Revolution were gradually dismantled, new forms had to take their place. Clearly the old Genoese system was not appropriate for the new kingdom, but Theodore felt that was better to overhaul it rather than starting from scratch. In the first place, he proposed the “immediatization” of the provinces; no longer would the provinces exist in a hierarchy with the coastal presidi at the top. Theodore’s plan called for all the provinces to be luogotenenze, each on an equal footing with one another. The lieutenancies of Algajola and Rogliano would be renamed Balagna and Capo Corso, respectively, to reflect the regions they covered, and the capital of the Balagna lieutenancy would be moved from Algajola to Isola Rossa, which in 1729 had been a miniscule fishing village but had quickly grown in importance thanks to its key role as a smuggling port and the new base of the NCC.
Lieutenancies of Corsica, 1750 [2]
Although Theodore felt the borders were mostly serviceable, some adjustments needed to be made. In the first place, the four “fiefs” of Corsica - Istria, Nonza, Brando, and Canari, remnants of autonomous feudal lordships which were not technically part of the stati - were merged into the lieutenancies. A few pievi under Bastia's outsized jurisdiction were moved elsewhere - Caccia to the Luogotenenza di Corti, and four pievi of the Castagniccia to the Luogotenenza di Aleria. There was also the matter of the former State of Bonifacio, for although Bonifacio itself had remained in Genoese hands most of the territory of the Stato di Bonifacio had not. As the region was very sparsely populated, Theodore deemed it too minor to be its own lieutenancy and added it to the Luogotenenza di Sartena (at least until some future date when Bonifacio might be “redeemed”).
This was all fairly uncontroversial, but Theodore did provoke some opposition by insisting that he have the sole right to appoint the luogotenenti.[3] These regional governors, he argued, were essentially ministers of the royal government and represented royal interests, unlike the podesta or the Dieta who represented the will of the people and their representatives. Not everyone agreed, and some complained that this was too much like the Genoese system in which the Genoese had full power over the installation of the luogotenenti. Theodore countered that, unlike the Genoese, he could never appoint foreigners to these positions; the constitution forbade it.
It was decided to put these questions to the legislative assembly of the people, and thus to summon the first peacetime consulta generale of the Kingdom of Corsica, to be held in October at Corti. The major question was who ought to be summoned. There was no real standard; previous consultas had involved a varying mix of elected representatives, local leaders, and various notabili and clergymen, which further varied because seldom did every pieve send representatives. If every pieve sent an equal number of procuratori, this would severely disadvantage the cities; the pieve of Orto, which contained Bastia, had around 6,000 residents, while some rural pievi had only a few hundred. The nobility clamored for their own representation independent of the elected procurators, the clergy wanted their own representation as well, and Theodore wanted some delegates of his own, ostensibly to recognize “men of quality” who might otherwise be absent. The process of deciding who would sit at the consulta generale would turn out to be significantly more difficult than the business of the consulta itself once it was convened.
The Corsican elites hoped to gain one further concession out of the king at the Consulta of 1750 concerning the royal succession. Despite all the other matters of importance over the last few years, the matter had not been forgotten. During the “royal tour” certain ministers had broached the matter with Theodore again, only to be brushed off. In the spring of 1750, however, as the plans for the consulta came together, there emerged an increasingly large and vocal faction which insisted that Theodore take advantage of the consulta to name his heir. As earlier efforts to get the king married had been fruitless, many former members of the so-called “family” faction had given up and joined this movement to avoid the chaos of a disputed succession. Theodore seemed to accept this, although he remained maddeningly vague.
In fact Theodore had his own plans. Soon after returning to Corti, he had dispatched Don Federico, Principe di Capraia to travel to Vienna, ostensibly for discussions regarding the crisis in Genoa where a popular uprising had shaken the city and would soon wrest control from the oligarchic government. But Federico’s primary mission had nothing to do with Genoa. Since their rendezvous in late 1747, Theodore had been corresponding frequently with Maria Eleonora Katharina, Duchessa di Guastalla. Following the Treaty of Aix-la-Chapelle in 1748 she had lost her regency over Guastalla and later that year had returned to her estates in Moravia, but the two had never lost contact. In late 1749, as his ministers were pressing him on the matter of the succession, Theodore secretly wrote the duchess a letter and asked her if she would like to be Queen of Corsica.
Footnotes
[1] Although it is sometimes claimed that Corsica was the first European country to grant women the right to vote, this is the product of a misunderstanding as to how Corsican elections actually worked. Normally, the most senior adult male of the household was the one who cast the family’s vote at the local consulta. In cases where a household had no eligible men, however - most commonly, a widow with under-age children - it was considered permissible for the senior adult woman of the household to cast the family’s vote instead. Given Corsica’s high murder rate and the fact that most of the victims (and perpetrators) were young men, widows with young children were not particularly rare. Thus, while it is true that a limited number of women voted in Corsican elections, it cannot truly be said that they had a “right to vote” as that phrase is usually understood, and by no means were they treated as equals in the franchise. Indeed, as the murder rate declined, so did female participation in elections.
[2] Capraia (not shown on map) fell within the Lieutenancy of Capo Corso.
[3] These “lieutenants” were also sometimes referred to as luogotenenti di stato (lieutenants of state) to avoid confusion with the military rank. In English the title is frequently translated as “governor” or “intendant,” which while not a literal translation does accurately convey the nature of the position to English speakers unfamiliar with the use of “lieutenant” to mean a regional administrator.
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I presume not many people do. It's sort of a weird blend of medieval communal government and the obtuse multi-tiered procedures of the maritime republics. That whole process of selecting the dodici - elected officials electing electors who elect a pool of nominees from whom a governor picks one third to serve - is just classic Genoese/Venetian "we made this tedious and complicated on purpose" political design.
I was surprised to learn just how large the potential electorate actually was, particularly when you compare it to Britain, where AFAIK the enfranchised population did not exceed 5% before the Reform Act of 1832. Notably, when the British took over Corsica for a few years during the French Revolutionary Wars (the "Anglo-Corsican Kingdom"), they introduced their own version of representative government modeled after the British Parliament, which included a substantial minimum property limit and offered no compensation (under the Genoese and Paolist governments, certain representative positions were salaried). No doubt the British thought they were bringing liberty to the island, but the Corsicans appear to have seen the British model as inferior and were not fond of it.
Interesting, so Luogotenenti are basically a bit like a mix of Lord Lieutenant and Governor?
I see it as mostly spelled the same as Tuscan so e.g. giunta rather than (the more modern) ghjunta.
Bear in mind i/j separation didn't really happen til the 1800s.
I love all chapters about the developing constitutionalism in Corsica. A tiny part of me wonders whether this successful "democratic monarchy" (assumung there is no big crisis over the next generation) could influence America, when or if they start their own revolution.
Reading more on the older relationship between Genoa and Corsica I wonder whether it could have been possible to integrate the island more and avoid the revolution outright instead of adopting pseudo-colonial methods. Probably Genoa's decline was inevitable though and this would eventually make their hold on Corsica both more tenuous and more rapacious.
Reading more on the older relationship between Genoa and Corsica I wonder whether it could have been possible to integrate the island more and avoid the revolution outright instead of adopting pseudo-colonial methods. Probably Genoa's decline was inevitable though and this would eventually make their hold on Corsica both more tenuous and more rapacious.
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12, 18 and now 24. Why even numbers? In most democratic states these days, there's an odd-numbered parliament to reduce the number of ties, is this even-numbered on purpose so that the Genoese governor (or now the King) could make his own decision in the case of a tie?
What the eventual makeup of this consulta will be will be just as interesting and set just as much of an important precedent as the decisions they make. Many of the nobles are too important to not be included among the electorate and I am betting that few people will object to the three princes having their own votes. Perhaps one vote per rural pieve and one per every thousand citizens for the cities?
Looks like a chance to "reclaim" it might come earlier than expected. Though it's probably a relatively low priority in Corti right now.
markus meecham
Banned
Somehow tying the consulta to the political process of the nation would be chaotic as fuck, and equally as interesting.
The full comedy result would be bonifaco asking to join corsica due to disagreements with the new government but that's unlikely. Will probably stop the brain drain of middle class corsicans dead though, which I suspect is the narrative point.
Shame the corsican constitution prevents them from taking genoan refugees really, the irony would be hilarious.
Well, much like England, which Theodore has spent some time, I can see Corsica having a House of Lords which will probably lose a lot of its influence over time while still remaining integral. How they divide up things for one or two more chambers will be interesting to see.