Half Past D'Annunzio

After the events of this week, Sconfittaback Saturday very much would like to return, at least for a few minutes, to a supposedly simpler time a century ago.

"D'Annunzio, der Unersättlische" by Theodor Leisser in Ulk, Berlin, Dec. 17, 1920

Before we move on to 1921, there are just a few odds and ends left over from the final days of 1920 to take care of. Italy had joined the Entente powers in World War I with the expectation of being awarded some Italian-populated regions of Austria-Hungary along the Adriatic. The Treaty of Versailles gave Italy less than some had expected, particularly one Gabriele D'Annunzio.

"No Mere Flight of Fancy This Time" by Dorman H. Smith for NEA, Dec. 1920/Jan. 1921

Prior to the war, D'Annunzio was a famed poet and playwright, so most of the cartoons here make at least passing reference to his poetry. Keenly interested in flight from the earliest successes of the Wright Brothers on, he dropped propaganda leaflets over Vienna in what became known as "The Flight Over Vienna" ("il Volo su Vienna"). This act of derring-do was more symbolic than it was effective; his poetry on the leaflets didn't translate into German particularly well. But it was ballsy enough to make him a hero in some quarters and to burnish his delusions of grandeur.

"At the End of His Rope" by Edward Gale in Los Angeles Times, Dec. 1920/Jan. 1921

After the war, as American, British and French occupying forces prepared to hand the city of Fiume (now Rijeka, Croatia) over to what was then the Kingdom of Serbs, Croats and Slovenes, D'Annunzio led an uprising of 2,000-2,600 irregulars to seize the city. The population of the urban center at the time was majority Italian, but surrounded by Slavic peoples.

"Back to Earth" by Bob Satterfield for NEA, Dec. 1920/Jan. 1921

D'Annunzio expected the Italian government of Giovanni Giolitti to annex Fiume; but instead, Italy blockaded the city to pressure his surrender. D'Annunzio then declared independence for "The Italian Regency of Carnaro," publishing a charter that presaged the fascism of the next decade. Meanwhile, Giolitti negotiated the Treaty of Rapallo with what would later become Yugoslavia, establishing "The Free State of Fiume." Failing to win foreign allies to his cause, and pummeled by shelling by the Italian Navy, D'Annunzio and his Italian Regency surrendered in December, 1920.

"The Theatre of War" by Paul Plaschke in Louisville Times, Dec. 1920/Jan. 1921

Many of the American cartoons upon D'Annunzio's defeat play off Roman mythology and classical themes. (I'm not sure why Bob Satterfield felt it necessary to label Pegasus, but I especially like Gale's "Literary License" plate on the flying horse.) Plaschke is inspired by a considerably lower class of theatre; "Punch and Judy" derives from the Venetian "Pulcinella."

"Stranded" by Rollin Kirby" in New York World, Dec. 1920/Jan. 1921

In Paul Plaschke's Punch and Judy cartoon, the "Italian Government" is represented by a caricature of King Vittorio Emanuele, who would be more recognizable to American readers than would Prime Minister Giovanni Giolitti. So here is an Italian cartoon of Giolitti, who was Prime Minister five times between 1892 and 1921.

"Questione Fiumana" by Gabriele "Rata Langa" Galanta in L'Asino, Rome, December 12, 1920

Giolitti's fifth government lasted from June, 1920 to June, 1921, during which time he tolerated the increasing strength of the armed Fascist squadrici and welcomed their support, out of fear of the Italian Socialist Party. Giolitti was not a Fascist himself, but continued to believe that Benito Mussolini and his party would moderate over time once they participated in governance. He lived long enough to learn how mistaken he was.

"A Fiume" by Gabriele "Rata Langa" Galanta in l'Asino, Rome, January 9, 1921

This last cartoon highlights cartoonist Gabriele Galanta's socialist outlook, here in spite of his anti-fascist and anti-war stance. But hey, why let a little thing like Antifa pacificsm interfere with one's perfectly healthy irredentism?

Versailles of Relief

The world commemorates November 11 as the day in 1918 when the fighting stopped in World War I, but today's Surrenderback Saturday marks an equally important centennial coming up next week. On June 28, 1919, the German government finally officially accepted the Entente's terms and signed the Paris peace accord.

Remembering Paul von Hindenburg's reply, to reports of food shortages in Berlin, that he would be in Paris by April 1, 1918, the St. Louis Republic's Sidney Chapin produced this gem:

"Sire, Your Paris Dinner Is Served" by Sid Chapin in St. Louis Republic, June, 1919

The punishment imposed on Germany was harsh, and intentionally so. The industrial Alsace-Lorraine region was given to France, and East Prussia was separated from the rest of Germany by the recreation of Poland. England, France and Italy demanded reparations from Germany as further punishment.

"Das Festmahl" by Johannes Bahr in Kladderadatsch, Berlin, June 15, 1919

Johannes Bahr's cartoon portrays Michel (Germany's Uncle Sam/John Bull/Marianne) having to sacrifice his own cow and to do all the hard work of butchering and roasting it all for the benefit of others. The final panel is labeled "This is called 'League of Nations.'"

"The Next Patient" by Wm. C. Morris for George Matthew Adams Service, ca. June, 1919

The German Empire's territorial losses paled next to those imposed on Austria, which lost Bohemia, Moravia, Silesia, Galicia, Slovenia, Croatia, Bosnia, Hungary, Bukavina, Transylvania, and parts of what are now Serbia and Italy. Given these losses, the Entente powers recognized that what was left of Austria was in no position to pay the huge reparations expected of Germany.

The victors helped themselves to portions of the junior Central Powers of the Ottoman Empire and Bulgaria as well, while granting Lithuania, Latvia and Estonia freedom from Russia as punishment for the Bolsheviks quitting the war in 1917. And for being commies.

"Der Schwertertanz" by Hans Gabriel Jentzsch in Wahre Jakob, Stuttgart, June 20, 1919

The humiliation of the Central Powers was not received particularly well in Germany; cartoons of the victorious Entente, and President Wilson in particular, drip with sarcasm. In Hans Jentsch's cartoon, Wilson's sheet music is "Wilson's 14 Points."

"Höher Geht's Nimmer" by Willi Steinert in Wahre Jakob, Stuttgart, March 14, 1919

Nor were the Germans alone in ridiculing the American president.

"O Ovo de Colombo" by José Carlos de Brito e Cunha in La Careta, Rio de Janeiro, May 24, 1919

Some of the sharpest barbs came from our allies. Gabriele Galanta depicts Wilson's 14 Points as a bunch of toy rubber clowns.

"14 Articoli Americani di Gomma Elastica de Vendere" by Gabriele "Rata Langa" Galanta in l'Asino, May 18, 1919

As we've discussed before, part of Wilson's problem stemmed from the competing appetites the erstwhile allies of the Entente had for the territory of their vanquished foes. Italy thought the Italian majority of residents of the city of Fiume (Rijeka) entitled it to more of the Croatian coast than Wilson thought appropriate, and Japan wasn't about to return German-leased territory on the Shandong peninsula to China.

"At the Peace Table" by Cy Hungerford in Pittsburgh Sun, May/June, 1919

Australian cartoonist David Low enjoyed embarrassing the American president over Mr. Wilson's opposition to Japanese demands to include language guaranteeing that the League's members "equal and just treatment" of aliens within their borders from other member states.

"Washington's New Found Brother" by David Low in Sydney Bulletin, 1919

The European powers opposed that provision, too. Donald Trump would have been so pleased that the Just Treatment of Aliens clause didn't make it into the charter.

"Say, John, There's Some Dirt on Your Face" by Alfred Lewis in The World, London, 1919

American senators pushed to have consideration for Irish independence included in the Paris peace negotiations. British cartoonist Alfred Lewis, noting the renewed raids of Pancho Villa off our southwestern border, would have none of it.

"The Embarrassment of Arranging a Match..." by John T. McCutcheon in Chicago Tribune, June 13, 1919

The Irish question would prove to be hardly the limit of senatorial second guessing of the peace treaty.

Settling Scores

Last Saturday's post started (sort of) with Poland, so let's begin there today.

"Inconsiderate" by Gilbert Wilkinson (?) in The World, London, ca. April, 1919

I'm not absolutely positive of the identity of the cartoonist of "Inconsiderate," but I can make out enough of his signature to consider Gilbert Wilkinson its likely author.

"Die Schlächtergilde von Paris" by uncredited cartoonist in Kladderadatsch, Berlin, April 13, 1919

Our topic this Spoilsback Saturday is the settling of scores in the Paris peace negotiations at the end of World War I. In the above parody of Rembrandt's Anatomy Lesson of Dr. Nicolaes Tulp, the cartoonist predicts an unpleasant outcome for the surgeons planning to slice off Danzig (present-day Gdansk, Poland) and the Saar region (now in France) from the German patient.

To the extent that Europe would fall back into World War II over German attempts to reclaim those territories, I suppose the cartoonist was not terribly far off the mark.

"Just a Guess at the Terms for Turkey" by Bill Sykes in Philadelphia Evening Ledger, May 5, 1919

The victors at the Paris peace negotiations also considered how to carve up the Ottoman Empire, and their solutions have given rise to a whole century of wars, refugees and terrorist attacks since then.

"Anything He Would Do Is an Improvement" by William Hanny in St. Joseph (MO) News-Press, April 23, 1919

Bill Sykes and William Hanny here draw a rare pair of cartoons that do not hinge on depicting Turkey or its leader as a meliagris gallopavo.

Of course, Hanny had used that pun less than a week before.

"Vor der Proklamierund des Völkerbundes" by Werner Hahmann in Kladderadatsch, Berlin, April 26, 1919

When it came to carving up the Austro-Hungarian Empire, members of the Entente had competing claims.

"More!" by John Cassel in New York World, April 20, 1919

Both Italy and the newly formed Kingdom of Serbs, Croats and Slovenes laid claim to Fiume (the present-day port city of Rijeka, Croatia) at the north end of Kvarner Gulf. As shown in John Cassel's cartoon, the allies awarded the former Austrian territories of Trentino and Trieste to Italy, but Italian irredentists claimed Fiume and environs by virtue of the fact that Italians made up nearly half of its residents. Not quite a third of the remainder were Croatian; Italians made up a majority of urban dwellers while Croats were the majority of rural folk.

"Mi sento Come se Fossi di Nuovo sul Piave" by "Luccio" in Il 420, Firenze, Italy, ca. April, 1919

Students of history and followers of this blog will recall that the Piave is the river where the Italian army was finally able to push back against Austrian and German advances into their country.

I have no explanation of why the Yugo-slav in this Italian cartoon has a supersized tampon dangling from his teeth.

"Get Your Cart Out from the Middle of the Street" by Leo Thiele in Sioux City Tribune, ca. April, 1919

Fiume/Rijeka is a significant seaport for Croatia, situated as it is at a deep, sheltered harbor near the narrowest stretch of the Dinaric Alps. Roads and railways from inland Croatia naturally converge there. But being so far removed from the boot of Italy, its importance to Italy was more a matter of prestige than commerce.

"I Due 'Wilson' alla Conferenza de la Pace" by Gabriele "Rata Langa" Galantara in L'Asino, Rome, May 11, 1919

The Italian government viewed President Woodrow Wilson's failure to side with Italy on the Fiume Question as a betrayal of his idealistic lectures about self-determination of peoples. Their cartoonists quickly switched from depicting him as Santo Woodrow to drawing him as a duplicitous moralizer. Above, "The Two 'Wilsons' at the Peace Conference" brandish an umbrella labeled "Direction toward self-determination" and a whip labeled "Interests of Capitalism."

"Woodrow in der Klamme" by Arthur Johnson in Kladderadatch, Berlin, May 11, 1919

German cartoonists were happy to join in ridiculing the American president. Arthur Johnson's Italian, on the left, points to the British promises of territory that had prompted Italy to abrogate its treaty with Germany and to declare on the side of the Entente. His Serbo-Croatian, on the right, points to similar British promises. I would note that Serbia was in the war at the outset, relying on Russian promises of support rather than any promises from the British who weren't even in the war yet.

"It Happens in the Best Regulated Families" by Jay "Ding" Darling in New York Tribune, May 9, 1919

Wilson's proposed compromise — which was the short-lived solution — was to establish Fiume/Rijeka as a free city, perhaps even the home of his League of Nations. Italy's Prime Minister Vittorio Orlando stormed out of the peace negotiations, protesting that he was personally insulted by the allies' failure to uphold British promises. "Ding" Darling correctly predicted that Italy would eventually return to the table.

"Their Vision" by John McCutcheon in Chicago Tribune, May 2, 1919

Peace negotiations faced a similar dilemma of conflicting promises in the Far East. Japan and China had both declared war against Germany, betting on the Entente to be the eventual and more magnanimous victors. Japanese forces ousted Germany from the Kiautschou Bay Leased Territory on China's Shandong peninsula early in the war. China wanted the territory back, but was repeatedly pressured to accept Japanese sovereignty there. Wilson sided with the Chinese, but Britain and France had given their assurances to Japan, and the Paris Treaty gave Shandong to Japan.

"The Penalty of Pacifism" by John McCutcheon in Chicago Tribune, May 6, 1919

Student-led protests against foreign imperialism and the Beijing government's fecklessness broke out in China on May 4 and spread across the country. The university students demanded the resignation of three government officials they blamed for selling out the country; they even burned down one of the officials' houses and assaulted his hapless servants.

"Mrs. Japan and Her Infant at the Peace Table" by R.O. Evans in Baltimore American, March, 1919

After some protesters were beaten and thrown in jail, a general strike in support of the students succeeded in gaining their release. China refused to sign the Versailles treaty, eventually negotiating a separate peace with Germany in 1921 and regaining possession of Shandong province a year later. But the May Fourth movement would lead to the development of the Chinese Communist Party. And another protest one month and seventy years later.

"You Can't Blame Japan for Feeling It an Insult" by Jay "Ding" Darling in New York Tribune, March 23, 1919

I was going to end this post on the topic of China (just like last Saturday's episode), but I ought to bring up one more issue that Japan brought to the negotiating table. Japan wanted the League of Nations charter to require that member countries grant "equal and just treatment" to all aliens in their borders who are nationals of other member states.

The Japanese proposal did not make it into the League charter, thanks to opposition from the Europeans and the American Congress, but it did inspire an unusually sympathetic response for the time from "Ding" Darling.

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")