Littérature scientifique sur le sujet « Military law – England – 17 century »

National security has evolved both into a discipline of study and a sphere of policy application. It is a commonly used phrase in strategic literature and international statecraft. The modern concepts of national security arose in the 17th century during the Thirty Years War in Europe and the Civil War in England, and it was considered in terms of state sovereignty. In the aftermath of World War II, the concept of national security evolved into superpower contestation, also called the Cold War. During this period, national security had been seen through the prism of military security of the state against external threats – traditional security. In the US, the national security concept transited into a normative paradigm when President Truman signed the National Security Act on July 26, 1947, which also led to the establishment of the US National Security Council. Some 21 variants of the National Security Council exist in 51 countries today. The concept of national security is also seen from the prism of the concept of national power and elements of national power that include diplomacy, information operations, military, economic, financial, intelligence operations and law enforcement – commonly referred to as DIMEFIL. States either have national security policies or strategies and some – including Pakistan, publish an unclassified version for public distribution. Contemporary national security discourse adjusts to and even shapes the geopolitical environment. It has gradually evolved into a concept called comprehensive national security. It is an inclusive framework that encompasses all internal and external affairs of the state and society. Comprehensive national security helps safeguard both national security interests and human security requirements. Bibliography Entry Khan, Ehsan Mehmood. 2022. "Comprehensive National Security: Contemporary Discourse." Margalla Papers 26 (1): 1-17.

On May 17, 1853, a court sentenced Francis Prout of East Stonehouse, Devon, to six months' hard labor for receiving £1 15s. in stolen money. Prout's “lodger,” a Mary Ann Foss, had stood charged with the theft at the local quarter sessions, but during her trial she denounced Prout as a brothel keeper who profited from crimes committed in his house. With no real warning, Prout found himself tried and convicted. An even more alarming surprise followed a few days later, when the local authorities decided to pursue Prout's property. They invoked the ancient practice by which felons forfeited their possessions, claiming not just Prout's moveable goods, as was common, but also his ninety-nine-year leases on two local pubs and the profits from his freehold on a pub and houses in Plymouth. The latter constituted an unusual decision, in part because the inquisition necessary to seize the property would cost about £150, and in this case no interested party stepped forward to pay the fees. But as the chairman of the quarter sessions argued, Prout's property was “chiefly acquired by the wages of prostitution.” Underneath his talk of “fallen women” and “unfortunate creatures” lay a very modern concern with the illicit proceeds of criminal activity. In such a case, the chairman opined, the property in question should be forfeit.

In trying to trace the development of church-state relations in Britain since 1961, one encounters the difficulty that conceptions of both ‘church’ and ‘state’ have changed radically in the half-century since then. This is most obviously true of the state. The British state in 1961 was (outside Stormont-governed Northern Ireland) a unitary state governed from London. It still had colonies, and substantial overseas military commitments. One of its Houses of Parliament had until three years before been (a few bishops and law-lords apart) completely hereditary. The prime minister controlled all senior appointments in the established Church of England, and Parliament had the final say on its worship and doctrine. The criminal law still embodied Christian teaching on issues of personal morality.

AbstractPolicy discourse surrounding Britain’s unusually well-resourced private schools surrounds their charitable status and their relationship with low social mobility, but informative evidence is scarce. We present estimates of the extent to which private and external benefits at age 25 are associated with attendance at private school in England in the 21st century. We find a weekly wage premium of 17 percent, and a 12 percentage point lower chance of downward social mobility. By contrast, private schooling is not significantly associated with participation in local voluntary groups, unpaid voluntary work, or charitable giving and fundraising; this finding casts doubt on claims that private schools deliver ‘public benefit’ in this way.

The article examines the activities of the justice of peace of the English county of Norfolk Nathaniel Bacon on the formation of the county militia in the late 16th and early 17th centuries. Analysis of his “notes”, correspondence with representatives of the central government and other documents shows that the justice of peace was involved in many issues of the formation and armament of the county militias. He reported regularly on these matters to the Privy Coun cil. In the center of his attention was the collection of monies from the population for the acquisition of weapons, the preparation and conduct of military reviews of the militia, the preparation of certificates of military commands, the procedure for conducting military inspections of militias, etc. Bacon had constant contact with both the lordlieutenant of the county and with the captains of military commands, sheriffs and constables of hundreds. One of the difficult tasks that he had to solve was the collection of funds from representatives of various classes for the needs of the military teams of the county militia. In general, the magistrate managed to achieve a good level of provision of firearms for the county militias. The material of the article clearly illustrates, using the example of a separate county, some of the complexities and nuances of the “military revolution” of the early modern times in England and the role of justices of the peace in this.

The Annual Bibliography of British and Irish History published for 1991, contains 393 items in section G, “Britain 1714-1815,” a section that excludes works devoted to “long periods” that also cover the period. Of those 393, twenty were in Ga “General,” thirty-six in Gb, “Politics,” eight in Gc “Constitution, Administration and Law,” thirty-two in Gd “External Affairs” and thirty-seven in Ge “Religion.” Though politics is in theory restricted to Gb, in practice it overlaps with these other categories, and, indeed, in part, with the categories Economic Affairs, Social Structure and Population, Naval and Military, and Intellectual and Cultural. Restricting, however, the survey to Gb, the figures for 1988, 1989 and 1990 respectively were fifty-six, fifty-two and fifty-four. It is thus clear that while political history no longer dominates eighteenth-century historiography as it once did, there is still a formidable quantity of it produced. This is not a situation to be regretted, but it does emphasize the subjectivity of any assessment of recent work and of current problems. Such a situation, however, is not simply a question of problems derived from quantity, for any attempt to produce an historiographical account focusing on earlier scholarship would itself encounter many difficulties. The absence of consensus among modern scholars extends to their assessment of historiographical trends. This was demonstrated clearly by Jonathan Clark in 1986. Having, the previous year, in his English Society 1688-1832: Ideology, Social Structure and Political Practice during the Ancien Regime (Cambridge, 1985), asserted the strength of conservatism and religious identity and the marginality of reform and radicalism in eighteenth-century England, he offered, inter alia, in his Revolution and Rebellion: State and Society in England in the Seventeenth and Eighteenth Centuries (Cambridge, 1986), a combative interpretation of the methodology and historiography of the period.

If liberal England died strangely, no moment in its passing was more bizarre than the close encounter it experienced between the army and a political system from which the military had been banished since the seventeenth century. Habitually all but invisible at home, confining its exploits to lands without the law, and maintaining a political silence equal—though in easier circumstances—to that of the neighboring grande muette, the British army moved to the center of the public stage. It obtained a popular following. This was not merely the result of Britain's involvement in world war. Manifestations of popular militarism, albeit sporadic or marginal, were evident in the later nineteenth century. The second Boer War accelerated a shift in social attitudes. Hostility to “pro-Boers,” if not beginning to resemble the hysteria of 1914, adumbrated the response of a shaken community temporarily recovering cohesion through warlike solidarity. Most public energy was expended in mafficking, but vocal groups continued to campaign for national efficiency and universal military service. The scout movement was the precipitant of a considerable mass sentiment, solidarized by suspicion of Germany and giving back a faint but clear echo of the leagues formed to support the expansion of the German army and navy.Yet if a novel enthusiasm was eroding traditional aversion to the army, it was scarcely capable of creating a public tolerance for its involvement in domestic affairs. Unlike the navy, whose nature more or less precluded its domestic employment, the army was a suspect weapon. The cultivation of nonpolitical professionalism represented in part a functional response to such public suspicion. Modern major generals would not think of doing what their Cromwellian predecessors had done.

AbstractThe closeness of a work from Rubens' studio in the English Royal Collection, known as Equestrian Portrait of a Knight of the Golden Fleece (Fig. I, Note 1), to two equestrian portraits painted by Van Dyck during his stay in Genoa, from 1621 to 1626 (Figs. 2, 3, Note 2) has led to the identification of the sitter. A number of other pictures from the circle of Rubens and Van Dyck show horses and/or riders in related poses and the dates on some of them reveal them to have been painted before Van Dyck's portraits. This applies to The Riding School by or after Rubens, which is generally dated 1610-12 (Fig. 4, Note 3), a Paradise Landscape by Jan Brueghel of 1613 (Note 4) and Sight dated 1617 by the same artist (Fig.5, Note 5), which features a horseman known as Archduke Albert. A number of undated paintings inspired by the same model include six supposed to be of Archduke Albert (Notes 6, 10), three by Casper de Crayer (Fig. 6, Note 13) and eguestrian portraits of Louis XIII (Note 14) and Ladislaw IV of Poland. Thus it seems likely that these followers of Rubens', Van Dyck included, based themselves on one and the same equestrian portrait by their teacher. Since Van Dyck almost certainly painted the two equestrian portraits in Genoa during his stay in that city, his model or a replica of it must also have been there between 1621 and 1626. In fact, probably at the request of his patrons (Note 17), he often used models by Rubens, who had worked in Genoa for a time in 1606 (Note 16). However, his two equestrian portraits are not based on the only Genoese one by Rubens now known, that of the Marchese Doria (Fig. 7, Note 18), which is very different and has a liveliness quite, unlike Van Dyck's quiet static compositions. The equestrian portrait in the English Royal Collection was bought by George I in 1723 as a Rubens. The sitter is clad in the Spanish costume of the early 17 th century while the towers in the background could be those of Antwerp (Note 36). The sitter has been identified as the Archduke Albert, but he actually bears no resemblance to other portraits of the Archduke, who was also much older than this at the time of Ruberas' stay in Genoa in 1606. The most likely candidate is Ambrogio Spinola (Note 32) , the statesman and general, of whom both Rubens and Van Dyck painted more than one portrait. Spinola was commander of the Spanish troups in the Southern Netherlands, a friend of Rubens and Knight of the Golden Fleece, and he also came from Genoa, where this portrait could have been painted during a visit he made to the city in 1606 (Notes 33, 34). Stylistically too the portrait seems to fit in with the series of portraits painted by Rubens in Genoa in that year. The physiognomy of the sitter is certainly close to that of the known portraits of Spinola (Figs. 8-1, Note 35), while the details of Spinola's life also support the identification. Spinola (1569-1630), who was Marquis of Sesto and Venafro, belonged to one of the group of closely related, families of bankers who held key positions in Genoa. He arrived in the Netherlands around 1602 at the head of a large and unusually well-trained body of troops. In 1603 he provided funds to prevent a mutiny among the Spanish troups and after his capture of Ostend in 1604 he was appointed second in command to Archduke Albert. He was made a Knight of the Golden Fleece on I March 1605 and in the same year he was put in charge of military finances. From 1606 until his departure for Spain in 1628 he was superintendent of the military treasury and' mayordomo mayor' to the Archdukes Albert and Isabella. After the death of Albert in 1621 he became principal adviser to Isabella and thus the most powerful man in the Spanish Netherlands. His amiable character brought him many friends, even among the ranks of the enemy, notably the Princes Maurice and Frederick Henry, with whom he had a great deal of contact during the Twelve Years Truce. It was probably one of them who bought the Portrait of Spinola by Van Miereveld (Fig. 8). After a disappointing mission to Spain in 1628, Spinola was relieved of his command of the Army of Flanders and put in charge of the Spanish troups in Lombardy. He died in his castle in Piedmont in 1630. During the years 1603-5 and later Spinola made several visits to Madrid, where he will undoubtedly have met the powerful Duke of Lerma and probably also seen the equestrian portrait that Rubens painted of him in 1603 (Fig. 12, Note 39). He must also have known of the portraits Rubens painted in Genoa in 1606, since at least three and probably five of them are of members of the Spinola family, while there survives a letter to Rubens from Paolo Agostino Spinola on the subject of portraits (Note 40). All this makes it likely that Spinola would have had his own Portrait painted too and that Rubens may well have painted his first portrait of the man who was to become his lifelong friend as early as 1606. Although Rubens was sometimes irritated by Spinola's lack of interest in his work (Note 41) , he admired him greatly (Note 42). He cultivated Spinola's friendship after his return to Antwerp in 1608 and will doubtless have introduced Van Dyck to him. Van Dyck later painted more than twenty pictures for the five Spinola palaces (Note 43) in Genoa and his work also became known in Madrid via Spinola and his son-in-law Don Diego Felipez Messia Guzman de Legañes, who owned many works by Van Dyck (Note 44). The presumed equestrian portrait of Spinola was much copied, as were other portraits of him by Rubens. Spinola was admired all over Europe and that may have been why other commanders and princes wanted to have themselves portrayed in the same way. The original or a replica may have hung in Spirtola's palace in Brussels, where the first to have seen it would have been Archduke Albert, which may explain the many equestrian portraits of him by Rubens' followeers which were based on it. Another possibility is that Rubens himself may have painted an equestrian portrait of the Archduke very similar to that of Spinola around 1610, but that this is no longer known. Caspar de Crayer of Brussels, a friend, though not a pupil of Rubens, was also influenced by the Spinola equestrian portrait. Furthermore, when he was invited to paint a set of equestrian portraits for the Huis ten Bosch, he sent the young Antwerp painter Thomas Willeboirts Bosschaert to The Hague in his place (Note 46) and it was in this way that Rubens' model came to the Northern Netherlands, where it was copied only once, by Isaac Isacsz. in his equestrian portrait of William the Silent (Note 47). The equestrian portrait of Sigmund III of Poland (Fig. 13), a cousin of Archduke Albert, could also have been painted in Van Dyck's studio in Genoa, which was probably visited by his son Prince Ladislaw in 1624 (Note 48). This picture too still owes much to Rubens' model which Van Dyck used again ten years later for his equestrian portraits of Charles I of England (Fig. 14, Note, 50) and Francisco de Moncada (Note 51).

A dichotomy of government and society in the exploration of the State’s transition from Medieval to Ētat modern opens new opportunities to understand the Kingdom of England’s history on the eve of the early modern period. On the one hand, gentry remained its importance under unstable political authority, arbitrariness and lawlessness from country’s nobility. On the other hand, political evolution of power was determined by growing role of king’s prerogative. The development of ideas about the function of serving the authority was reflected in a number of anonymous tractates of that time and isolated events. Government used a figure of wise and righteous monarch against the background of serious political-military failures of the 30s in Hundred Years' War. One of the tractate states that the King and his Council assumed the burden of service and responsibility in difficult time for the kingdom with minimal focus on commons. The other one of that time has the phenomenon of publicity filled with nostalgia, represented through discourses of historic memory. An anonymous author from the king’s inner circle describes an alternative of country’s political course of Anglo-French opposition. The author calls for the restoration of kingdom’s past glory as strong military Power, above all, at sea, rather than the war on the mainland. He brings back the reader images of famous monarchs, where sea power guaranteed prosperity of the realm and its subjects. An understanding of a new place and the role of England in the last phase of Hundred Years' War, somehow, that favoured public interests and expectations, is formed. An understanding of monarch’s duty and responsibility underwent significant changes in anonymous tractate of the late 40s. The ruler must promote well-being and prosperity of his nationals, know their needs and requirements, listen for their opinion, which is the wisdom and justice of the monarch. Dialogue between government and society developed by participants’ demands of Jack Cade rebellion. King cannot be above the law and commons are always ready to support him. England’s socio-political processes of that time are characterized by the increase of publicity, strengthening of authority’s representation. Nevertheless, keeping faith with the figure of wise and righteous monarch, the patron and protector of his subjects could not stop impending socio-political crisis of the second part of the century.

It has been over 72 years since Indonesia proclaimed her independence on 17 August 1945. However, the 350 years of the Dutch colonization is still impacting the lives of the Indonesian people. The difficulties faced by the Indonesian legal system as the government tries to accommodate adat (custom) and religion principles within the national law and the extent to which this legal mechanism affects the everyday life of the Indonesian people. In a nation where customs and religion are so preeminent, setting up an all-inclusive document meant to be the foundation of the state’s legal system at the dawn of independence was no easy task. This paper discusses the practice of legal pluralism in Indonesia and its struggle to implement rule of law and human rights principles after a half-century of authoritarian regimes. The study involves socio-legal research drawing on empirical data. Survey research was conducted between September 2014 and February 2015 at Utrecht University, the Netherlands, as well as in 5 cities in Indonesia (Aceh, Bali, Batam, Medan, and Padang) to collect data. The research reveals that legal pluralism is not helping to strengthen the Indonesian legal system, and that the foreignness of the Western law along with the neglect of the Indonesian customary and Islamic laws, totalitarianism and military involvement in politics, corruption within the state apparatus and unsynchronized laws weaken the legal system in Indonesia and hinder its effort to implement rule of law and human rights principles.

Defence date: 25 March 1998
Supervisor: Luis María Díez-Picazo ; Jury member: J. Brewer
PDF of thesis uploaded from the Library digitised archive of EUI PhD theses completed between 2013 and 2017

Abstract Ralph Rishton first married in 1531, when he was 8 or 9 years old. After his first wife succumbed to mental illness and he returned from military service in wars with Scotland, he secured a forged certificate of annulment from church officials in order to marry another woman, whom he had gotten pregnant. The first part of this chapter reconstructs the narrative of this part of Ralph’s life, with an emphasis upon the ways in which witnesses in court depositions conveyed their observations and impressions of married life. The chapter then goes on to examine child marriage among the Lancashire gentry and yeomanry in the sixteenth century, based upon dozens of cases in the consistory court of the Diocese of Chester. Child marriage was a common experience, entwined with family strategies for alliance building and property acquisition, and cases subsequently initiated to annul such marriages on grounds of underage compulsion offer detailed insight into expectations surrounding marriage. Lancashire gentry also married much closer to home, geographically speaking, than their counterparts elsewhere in England. One result was a tightly knit propertied class, intensely local in outlook, who acted for each other in a wide range of legal capacities, especially in relation to their property.

Political parties started to be established in Turkey in the second half of the 19th century with the formation of societies aiming at the reform of the Ottoman Empire. They reaped the fruits of their labour in 1908 when the Young Turk Revolution replaced the Sultan with the Committee of Union and Progress, which disbanded itself on the defeat of the Empire in 1918. Following the proclamation of the Republic in 1923, new parties started to be formed, but experiments with a multi-party system were soon abandoned in favour of a one-party system. From 1930 until the end of the Second World War, the People’s Republican Party (PRP) was the only political party. It was not until after the Second World War that Turkey reverted to a multiparty system. The most significant new parties were the Democrat Party (DP), formed on 7 January 1946, and the Nation Party (NP) formed on 20 July 1948, after a spilt in the DP. However, as a result of the coup of 27 May 1960, the military Government, the Committee of National Union (CNU), declared its intentions of seizing power, restoring rights and privileges infringed by the Democrats, and drawing up a new Constitution, to be brought into being by a free election. In January 1961, the CNU relaxed its initial ban on all political activities, and within a month eleven new parties were formed, in addition to the already established parties. The most important of the new parties were the Justice Party (JP) and New Turkey Party (NTP), which competed with each other for the DP’s electoral support. In the general election of October 1961, the PRP’s failure to win an absolute majority resulted in four coalition Governments, until the elections in October 1965. The General Election of October 1965 returned the JP to power with a clear, overall majority. The poor performance of almost all the minor parties led to the virtual establishment of a two-party system. Neither the JP nor the PRP were, however, completely united. With the General Election of October 1969, the JP was returned to office, although with a reduced share of the vote. The position of the minor parties declined still further. Demirel resigned on 12 March 1971 after receiving a memorandum from the Armed Forces Commanders threatening to take direct control of the country. Thus, an “above-party” Government was formed to restore law and order and carry out reforms in keeping with the policies and ideals of Atatürk. In March 1973, the “above-party” Melen Government resigned, partly because Parliament rejected the military candidate, General Gürler, whom it had supported in the Presidential Elections of March-April 1973. This rejection represented the determination of Parliament not to accept the dictates of the Armed Forces. On 15 April, a new “above party” government was formed by Naim Talu. The fundamental dilemma of Turkish politics was that democracy impeded reform. The democratic process tended to return conservative parties (such as the Democrat and Justice Parties) to power, with the support of the traditional Islamic sectors of Turkish society, which in turn resulted in the frustration of the demands for reform of a powerful minority, including the intellectuals, the Armed Forces and the newly purged PRP. In the last half of the 20th century, this conflict resulted in two periods of military intervention, two direct and one indirect, to secure reform and to quell the disorder resulting from the lack of it. This paper examines the historical development of the Turkish party system, and the factors which have contributed to breakdowns in multiparty democracy.