Q Toon: Hard Time

A new law in the southeast Asian country of Malaysia criminalizes not just the import and sale of a certain rainbow-themed sportswatch, but the wearing of one as well. The penalty, for resident citizens and tourists alike, is up to three years in prison and a fine of 20,000 ringgit (about $4,375, £3,425 ).

Malaysia, a Ron DesAntis wet dream of a country, just held national elections last Saturday in which a coalition of Malay-Muslim political parties accused Prime Minister Anwar Ibrahim of not being draconian enough in his persecution of LGBTQ+ communities and friends.

“The Malaysian government is committed to preventing the spread of elements that are harmful or may be harmful to morals,” the [Interior] ministry said in a statement.

It said the watches “may harm … the interests of the nation by promoting, supporting and normalising the LGBTQ+ movement that is not accepted by the general public”.

A ministry official told Agence France-Presse in May that 172 watches worth $14,000 (£10,960) were seized in raids because they bore the “LGBTQ” acronym and had six colours instead of the seven in a rainbow.

Swatch is suing Malaysia over the confiscated timepieces; in a statement, CEO Nick Hayek wrote:

“We strongly contest that our collection of watches using rainbow colors and having a message of peace and love could be harmful for whomever. On the contrary, Swatch always promotes a positive message of joy in life. This is nothing political. We wonder how the Malaysian government will confiscate the many beautiful natural rainbows that show up in the skies above Malaysia.”

In the pictures I've seen of these watches, they are available in red, orange, yellow, green, blue, or purple; there is a small rainbow flag on the strap loop. You'd have to have all six on your arm before it was obvious to passers-by that you were making a pro-LGBTQ+ rights statement. 

On a scale of 0 to The 1975, wearing one such watch has to rank no higher than the mid double digits.

It Ain't Over Till It's Over Over There

As promised, Siegback Saturday focuses this week on European cartoonists' response to the end of World War I.

"Zwischen Krieg und Frieden" by Wilhelm Schulz in Simplicissimus, November 19, 1918

Most of these cartoons appeared in weekly publications, and since I don't know the dating conventions of each of the journals, there might be some cartoons that were drawn before the armistice was signed and others drawn well afterward. "Zwischen Krieg und Frieden" illustrates the point noted last week that the killing continued right up to 10:59:59.99 a.m. Paris Time on the last day of hostilities.

"Aufwärts" by J.D. (?) in Ulk, Berlin, November 15, 1918

"Völkersehnsucht" by Otto Lendecke in Simplicissimus, November 26, 1918

I was a little surprised to find so few cartoons that expressed relief at the war finally being over. As the † next to Otto Lendecke's name above the Simplicissimus cover illustration indicates, the Austrian painter had died a month before the end of the war, so "Völkersehnsucht" is obviously not a response to the armistice except on the part of the magazine editors.

"Die Waffenstilstandsbedingungen" by Thomas Theodor Heine in Simplicissimus, November 26, 1918

Judging from the rest of the cartoons I've seen, the end of hostilities on the battlefield clearly did not extend to an end of hostilities on the drawing boards — on either side of the conflict.

"The 'Victorious' Hun" by David Wilson in The Passing Show, November, 1918

From Great Britain, David Wilson gloats over Supreme Allied Commander General Ferdinand Foch forcing Chief of the German General Staff Paul von Hindenburg to sign an unconditional surrender.

"Il Trionfo della Giustizia" by Giove "Tony" Toppi in Il 420, Florence, November 24, 1918

What the triumph of justice looked like depended upon which side you were on.

"So Also Sieht ein Gerechtigkeitsfriede Aus" by Gustave Brandt in Kladderadatsch, Berlin, November 24, 1918

The pediment in Gustav Brandt's cartoon reads "The Justice Peace Group of the Entente Sculptors."

"Le Kaiser" by C. Léandre in Le Rire, Paris, November 16, 1918

From the Allies, there was no shortage of scorn to heap upon the abdicated Kaiser Friedrich Wilhelm Viktor Albert Hohenzollern. And since I'm not going to write a separate post about Australian cartoons, here's one from the Sydney Bulletin.

"Take My Seat" (perhaps by one of the Lindsay brothers?) in Sydney Bulletin, November, 1918

Returning to Europe, neither was the Kaiser's fall mourned in neutral Spain:

"Su Debida Recompensa" in Esquella, Barcelona, ca. November, 1918

Another Catalan cartoonist observes that Armistice Day fell on the Feast Day of St. Martin, traditionally a day for slaughtering pigs. The caption is a common saying which is pretty much the flip side of "every dog has its day."

"A Cada Porc Li Arriba el seu Sant Martí" by Josep «Picarol» Costa Ferrer in Campana de Gràcia, Barcelona, November 16, 1918

Of course, Mr. Hohenzollern was not the only guy suddenly unemployed at the end of the war:

"La Salle des Trônes de la Quadruplice" by L.M. in Le Rire, November 16, 1918

The other members of the Quadruplice were Austrian Emperor Karl, the Ottoman Sultan and the Bulgarian Tsar. In fact, the Entente allowed Ottoman Sultan Mehmet VI (who had acceded to the throne in July after the death of his brother, Mehmet V) to retain his title and position; but he would be overthrown four years later. Bulgaria's Tsar Ferdinand I abdicated in October as one of the terms of his country's surrender; he was succeeded by his son, Boris III, whose reign — in name — lasted into World War II. (Mainly in the plain.)

"La Fine degli Imperatori" by Gabriele "Rata Langa" Galanta in L'Asino, Rome, November 24, 1918

If cartoonists living on the winning side of the war could joke about how the Kaisers had fallen, German cartoonists had to find someone among the allies that they could poke fun at. They chose the king of Italy, whose government had forsaken the country's erstwhile alliance with the Central Powers in a gamble for attaining Italian territories of the Austro-Hungarian Empire.

"Der Treppenwitz der Weltgeschichte" by Arthur Johnson in Kladderadatsch, Berlin, November 17, 1918

My translation of the Arthur Johnson's German is rather inexact and requires a little explanation.  "Treppenwitz" is a literal translation of the French "l'esprit d'escalier," referring to that perfect rejoinder one thinks of only after it's too late (on the way down the staircase while leaving the party). In German, however, the word has come to mean a joke that ends up with unintended unfortunate consequences — those Baraboo high school seniors taking a group photo doing a Nazi salute, for example.

In this case, Johnson pushes the idea that Italy's King Victor Emmanuel III is the joke, and the unfortunate consequence is the fall of the Austro-Hungarian Empire. I'm curious why Johnson, whose father was American but who was born and raised in Germany, wrote "Austria" on the shield instead of "Österreich"; perhaps he just didn't have enough room.

"Der Unersättliche" by Olav Gulbrandsson in Simplicissimus, Munich, November 26, 1918

Olav Gulbrandsson portrays Victor Emmanuel's victory parade boasting the names of Italy's 1917 defeats in battle. Twitting the 5' tall Italian king seems to have been the last resort of Germany's cartoonists wishing to find someone among the conquerors of the Central Powers who could be portrayed as a buffoon; I assume that punning the name Vittorio with the German sieg was purely intentional.

"S. Wilson" by "Tonv" in Il 420, Florence, November 17, 1918

I've been given conflicting translations of the dialogue in this little cartoon by the Italian cartoonist who signed his work "Tonv"; I believe the mother is telling her son that she is hanging a hagiographic portrait of U.S. President Woodrow Wilson in place of whatever saint it is that she's taking down, on account of his having performed a true miracle. This blog gets hundreds of visits from people in Italy, so if any of you cittadini would care to leave a good translation in the comments, I'd be happy to replace this paragraph with it. (Having used several of his cartoons in this series, I've also been repeatedly frustrated in my efforts to find out who "Tonv" was; qualcuno può aiutarmi?)

"Da Beim Tod" by Fritz Boscovits in Nebelspalter, Zurich, November, 1918

Not everyone shared that Italian mother's adoration of Mr. Wilson. At the German-sympathetic Swiss journal Nebelspalter, cartoonist JFB holds Wilson responsible for the slaying of the Central Powers (Mittelmächte), while his allies are depicted as dogs barking over the sad remains of such a handsome, noble creature.

"John Bull's Fourteen Points" by Frank Holland in John Bull, London, ca. Oct./Nov., 1918

America's allies had their differences with Wilson as well. As far as Britain and France were concerned, his 14 Points may have been a useful propaganda ploy against Germany while hostilities raged, but now that it was time to implement the peace, exacting punishment upon the vanquished was going to take precedence over the namby-pamby head-in-the-clouds idealism of that egghead professor from Princeton.

"Gli Effetti di un' Indigestione" by "GiToppi" in Il 420, Florence, November 17, 1918

As I mentioned earlier, Italy had also joined the Entente eager to claim territory from Austria. Caporetto is the present-day Slovenian city of Kobarid on the Italian border; Hemmingway recounted the disastrous 1917 rout of the Italian army at the then-Austrian village in A Farewell to Arms. At the end of the war, the Italian army occupied the town, and it was annexed to Italy from 1919 until being turned over to Yugoslavia under the Paris Treaties of 1947.

"La Resa dei Conti" by RIV in Il 420, Florence, November 17, 1918

As depicted in "The Rendering of Accounts," none of Germany and Austria's neighbors were about to let bygones be bygones. And we know how that turned out.

...Oh, Death was never enemy of ours!
We laughed at him, we leagued with him, old chum.
No soldier's paid to kick against his powers.
We laughed, knowing that better men would come,
And greater wars...

(From Wilfred Owen's "The Next War")

European Cartoonists on World War I

Sulfurback Saturday turns our attention to some political cartoons from continental Europe during World War I. I've normally been trying to bring up the cartoons in this series at roughly the same point in the year now as they appeared 100 years ago, but that isn't always possible with European cartoons published in the United States. There would often be months of delay between their continental and American appearances.

This first cartoon, for example, which appeared in Cartoons magazine in 1918, appears to be dated 1916. 

"Their Arms" by Pierre Falke in Le Rire,Paris. 1916?

You'll find right away that not all humor necessarily translates well to English. I took seven years of French in school and college, and I don't know of anything inherently funny in "Je vous donnerai ma bouteille de vitriol." Use of vitriol, a.k.a. sulfuric acid, as a weapon has always been the territory of vengeful ex-lovers and radical Luddites; but despite the widespread use of mustard gas (another acidic sulfur compound) in World War I, I can't find any reference to vitriol being standard issue to soldiers in the trenches. The 3rd-Century Persian-Roman War maybe, but not World War I.

I've posted a lot of Simplicissimus cartoons in this series to include a German point of view about the war, so in the interest of getting to some other countries, I'll limit myself to one German cartoon today. Gustav Brandt, drawing for the staid Kladderadatch of Berlin, assays to base a pun on his country's U-boat blockade of Great Britain. (At least, I assume the original German caption has a pun in it somewhere; there is no beginning "U" in "Ich bin verbraucht.")

"The Ruler of the Waves" by Gustav Brandt in Kadderadatch, Berlin.

Beatty, by the way, was Admiral of the British Fleet, First Earl David Richard Beatty. Brandt's cartoon is not a particularly good likeness; there is a bust of Beatty at Trafalgar Square.

"Uncovering of War Objects" in Nebelspalter, Zurich. 

Nebelspalter tended to support the Central Powers in World War I, but this cartoon includes a German and an Austrian in the foreground of the cartoon as well as French, Italian, British and Russian leaders, all hesitant to unveil their goals for the war. The absence of any American suggests this cartoon dates from before the U.S. declaration of war in 1917. It must have been drawn after Italy, here represented by little Victor Emmanuel III (right of center), entered the war in April, 1915.

"President Wilson, Peace Angel" in Hollandsche Revue, January or February, 1918?

Continuing with another cartoon from a neutral country, I suppose this cartoon from the Netherlands probably first appeared upon U.S. entry into the war in 1917, rather than the date I've put in the cut line.

"Fine alla ... Fine!" by Gabriele "Rata Langa" Galanta in L'Asino, Rome, October 21, 1917

From Italy come three strongly anti-German cartoons. Gabriele Galanta's anticolonialist sympathies had put him at odds with his fellow co-founder of L'Asino, Guido Podrecca, and with the Italian government during the Italo-Turkish war of 1911; but his liberal views led him to favor Italy's siding with democratic France over imperial Germany and Austria, and to produce one cartoon after another against "la barbarie teutonica."

L'Asino's opposition to fascism, however, meant that their magazine would not be around to comment on World War II.

"Il Risultato Finale Rimane Invariato" by Tonv (?) in Il 420, Florence, Italy, January, 1918

Il 420, on the other hand, fully supported Mussolini before and during WWII, but that's getting way ahead of the scope of this blog post. I haven't been able to find anything out about their cartoonist, who appears to have signed his work "Tonv"; googling "420" brings up a lot of material about stuff completely unrelated to the Italian weekly magazine.

Update: "Tony" was the pen name of cartoonist Giove Toppi. --PB  

The banners I can make out behind the Kaiser in the above cartoon read "Death to the Kaiser" and "Mutiny"; it was in January, 1918 that Entente media were reporting dissent and rebellion among the German people.

"Qui Glace il Re Dei Cuochi..." by Tonv in il 420, Florence, January, 1918

During a conference with the German press in January 1918, Field Marshal Paul von Hindenburg was asked to address the fear that there would be no food in Germany by May of that year. Hindenburg reportedly dismissed those concerns, saying, "My reply is that by next April I shall be in Paris." His boast was met with scorn and ridicule in the Entente press; several American and British cartoonists dubbed it an April Fool's joke on Hindenburg.

Moving on to the situation in Russia, we first have this Polish cartoon, published in exile in Moscow:

"No, My Dear..." in Mucha, Moscow, January, 1918

Apparently, Turkish humor completely flouts the idea that brevity is the soul of wit. The Russian cossack is crushed under a rock labeled "Germany"; the Turk over the horizon explains in detail why he's laughing at the Entente powers trying to lift it. (Is the one in blackface supposed to be American?)

"Hey!..." in Karagnios, Constantinople (Istanbul), January or February 1918

The Russian cartoonists of Novy Satirikon were no less critical of their domestic situation, but considerably more succinct.

"Defenders of the Revolution" in Novy Satirikon, Petrograd (St. Petersburg), 1917

The Bolsheviks were in charge in St. Petersburg, but not without challenge from Mensheviks and liberals in the capital and tsarist loyalists in the steppes.

"Русская жопа" in Novy Satirikon, January, 1918

I'm told that in a Russian fable, a donkey can't decide between two masters and starves to death. It seems not to be one of Krilof's fables as far as I can find (be careful when googling "russian ass two masters"); but if there's a donkey in a Russian fable, it usually ends up dead. So let's just concede that the fable indeed exists, lest some Turkish pasha show up to expound upon his reaction to it.

The Red Guards were the commies, of course; the Savage Division (Дикая дивизия) of the Russian Cavalry consisted of Muslim horsemen from Chechenya, Ingushetia, Dagestan, Karachay, Circassia, Kabardinia and Azerbaijan under the command of Grand Duke Mikhail Romanov, brother of the deposed tsar. Their track record of backing the losers in the February Revolution, Kornilov Affair in August, and October Revolution led to their being disbanded in 1918.

"At Last" in Novy Satirikon, Petrograd (St. Petersburg), 1918

Meanwhile, back in the capitalist West, let's close with one cartoon from neutral Denmark, where Peace is an angel named Fred.

"Patriotiske Spekulant" in Ravnen, Copenhagen, in February or March of 1918.

Sick of War

2018 is turning out to be a bad year for influenza, but it's still not as bad as 1918 was. Chalk that up to so many people failing to get their flu shots in those days. At any rate, editorial cartoonist John "Ding" Darling took advantage of the situation to make a comment about foreign affairs.

"Might Be the Neighbors' Children Have Been Having It" by Jay N. "Ding" Darling, January, 1918

American and Allied media excitedly reported that Austria was having a rough time of it in January, 1918. Emperor Karl's cabinet resigned, foodstuffs were in short supply, and laborers were going on strike.

"Doing His Bit!" by Sidney Joseph Greene in New York Evening Telegram, January, 1918

Even though Austria-Hungary's had been the nation to trigger World War I with its declaration of war against Serbia, Germany was the more dominant of the Central Powers from the earliest weeks of the conflict. As food shortages took hold in the industrialized Austria, leftist labor leaders teamed up with pacifists in protest against their Teutonic overlords to the North.

"Getting Tired of the Mess" by Harry Keys in Columbus Citizen, January, 1918

Yet there were notes of caution. The Pittsburgh Sun ventured that "Reports of labor uprising in the dual monarchy are to be taken with the same quantity of salt that are to go with similar reports of internal disorders in Germany. ... This latest tale of unrest bears the earmarks of truth. Taken in connection with the rigid sealing of the border, which was presumed to have been to clothe in secrecy the movement of the troops, there is a strong presumption that in Vienna and even in Budapest there have been riots and that at this time thousands of workmen are on strike in the capital and in the industrial cities of the south."

"The Weakest Link" by Harry Murphy in Chicago Examiner, January 31, 1918

From Berlin, statements of a left-of-center political leader gained wide circulation in England and America. "Suppose the army conquered France and England; would that mean peace?" thundered Philip Scheidemann, leader of the Social Democrats in Berliner Vorwaerts after Field Marshall Paul Von Hindenburg predicted the German army would be in Paris by April 1. "I say no, for we would still have to conquer America."

"Sleepless Nights!" by John Cassel in New York Evening World, January 25, 1918

German officials and media hastened to reassure the public that Entente depictions of dissent and disarray in the German government were greatly exaggerated.

"Durch die Reuterbrille" by Karl Arnold in Simplicissimus, Munich, November 27, 1917

However, one does begin to see cartoons laying the blame for Germany's and Austria's ills on the selfishness and greed of the moneyed class, portraying them as the ones making a fortune off of the conflict. This Swiss cartoon promises that the war, and those capitalists' gravy train, were soon to come to a stop.

"A Cause for Alarm" by "F.B." in Nebelspalter, Zurich, January, 1918

Yes, some mainstream American cartoonists (not only the socialists) also occasionally leveled criticism at the nation's rich for not sacrificing as much as others in the war effort, but in these Germanic cartoons lies the seeds of resentment against bankers that would grow into Kristallnacht and the Holocaust.

"Die Neue Polonaise" by Thomas Theodor Heine in Simplicissimus, Munich, January 22, 1918

Meanwhile, negotiations between the Central Powers and Russia toward the Brest-Litovsk treaty continued, despite Entente entreaties to Russia to resist. Here Olaf Gulbransson depicts a Russian negotiator (Nikolai Bukharin, perhaps?) as a Russian hound passively listening to Western talk of humanity, protection of the little people, correctness, and democracy.

"Die Stimme Seines Herrn" by Olaf Gulbransson in Simplicissimus, Munich,. January 22, 1918

And as regarded its western adversaries, Germany responded to President Wilson's Fourteen Point peace proposal with interest and a counter-proposal of its own. A Kingdom of Poland, with borders well east of where they are today, would be joined in a personal union with Austria-Hungary. A Duchy of Courland (western Latvia) and a Principality of Lithuania would be established as vassal states of the Prussian monarchy. Germany would agree to withdraw from Belgium, but the industrial region of Alsace-Lorraine would remain part of Germany.

"You May Have Belgium!" by John H. Cassel in New York Evening World, January, 1918

On this, Kaiser Wilhelm had the support of Social Democrat Scheidemann, continuing in the Berliner Vorwaerts that "Alsace is Germany's and will remain so. If one clear word is spoken regarding Belgium, England's war-mongering will end. An honorable, complete reinstatement of Belgium is our duty."

You Say You Wanted Revolution

At this point in 1917, it was dawning on the rest of the world that all was not blinis and Faberge eggs in suddenly democratic Russia. So Steppeback Saturday presents a series of cartoons about the souring situation there—and not a single nesting doll in the bunch!

Nebelspalter, Zurich, May, 1917

Competing factions in Russia were the liberal provisional government, the Socialist Petrograd Soviet, and the Bolshevik Communists. The provisional government lost public support in April with the revelation of a letter from its Foreign Minister Milyukov pledging Russia's participation in World War I until "its glorious end"; as a result, Milyukov and War Minister Guchkov resigned and six members of the Petrograd Soviet, among them Alexander Kerensky, joined an unstable coalition government.

The Swiss satirical magazine Nebelspalter had pro-German sympathies during the First World War, so one might expect them to sit back and enjoy the Russian political infighting. That is not at all the attitude of Russia's allies, as expressed by American cartoonists:

"A Bad Time to Be Taken with a Stomachache" by Jay "Ding" Darling in New York Herald, May 9, 1917

"When Two Heads Are Not Better Than One" by Nelson Harding in Brooklyn Daily Eagle, May, 1917

Naturally, there was suspicion that Germany was doing more than just taking advantage of the political situation in Russia. In particular, that Germany and Russia would settle a separate peace agreement. The Milyukov letter had been an attempt to assuage those fears, but Lenin's Bolsheviks and the more radical of the Petrograd Soviet argued in favor of withdrawal from the war.

"Poison" by Nelson Harding in Brooklyn Daily Eagle, May 7, 1917

As the war on the Western Front ground on and on and on with little progress made by either side, the U.S. and other Entente powers were counting on Russia to keep German forces occupied on the Eastern Front.

"Working for Wilhelm" by Rollin Kirby for New York World, May, 1917

The first two hanged figures in the following German cartoon might be King Nikola I Petrović-Njegoš of Montenegro (who had fled to France in January), and Peter I Karađorđević of Serbia, then the nominal head of the Serbian government in exile on Corfu. The hat of the third should be a giveaway, but I'm afraid I haven't figured out which of the Allied leaders that might be. (The face bears little resemblance to the precariously crowned heads of state of Romania, Greece or Spain. France had replaced General Robert Nivelle as Commander-in-Chief of its armies after 55 divisions mutinied in May, so perhaps it's him.)

"The European Punch and Judy Show" in Der Brummer, Berlin, May or June, 1917

On May 15, President Wilson named Elihu Root, a former Senator, Secretary of State and Secretary of War, to head a delegation to Russia to offer American aid provided that the new coalition government remain committed to the war effort, in spite of that commitment having led to the collapse of its immediate predecessor.

"Our Russian Mission" by Wm. Sykes in Philadelphia Evening Ledger,  1917

Anticipating Led Zeppelin by half a century, Root assessed the Russians he met as "sincerely, kindly, good people, but confused and dazed."

"After Elihu Root Gets Through with Russia" by E. Gminska in The Masses,  July, 1917

American Socialists were none too impressed with the New York Republican, as shown by these two cartoons. Ryan Walker's "Adventures of Henry Dubb" was a daily feature of the Socialist New York Evening Call, in which the title character, representing subservient, easily duped American laborers (ancestors of our Trump voters), gratuitously announced his name in every final panel.

"Adventures of Henry Dubb" by Ryan Walker in New York Evening Call, May 17, 1917

(Find some other cartoons of Senator Root in previous Saturday posts here and here.)