By Nick Deiuliis

Humans are odd creatures. We spend billions of dollars and invest precious free time to travel and explore the history and culture of places, both near and far. Our bucket lists abound with unvisited destinations as our runway of time remaining in our mortal coils steadily diminishes.

Despite our innate drive to explore, we often pass by and miss a trove of history waiting to be discovered during our travels.  Stories that are latently present in something you find everywhere, from hometowns to exotic locales.

Where is all this history and culture awaiting?  In, of all things…hotels.

Think about it.  Travelers tend to limit exploration options to the traditional list of museums, monuments, streets, neighborhoods, restaurants, and events.  Meanwhile, hotels are demoted to nothing more than places to sleep and park luggage.

That’s a mistake for lovers of travel, history, and sense of place.

Of course, the older the hotel, the deeper the history and story.  Certainly, every large American city boasts an impressive list of legacy-rich hotels.  In Europe, it’s ridiculous how deep the roster runs.

Realizing how hotels can add to the travel experience opens a new dimension to historical and cultural prospecting.

By way of example, consider the awe-inspiring history of a hotel I stumbled upon during a recent trip.  It’s in the Netherlands; in the city of The Hague, the official seat of government of the Netherlands.¹  Its name is Hotel Des Indes. What a story it has.

The Palace Before the Hotel

The Hotel Des Indes prominently sits in the center of The Hague, occupying the corner of the city’s famous tree-lined avenue, Lange Voorhout.  This impressive green space was originally envisioned and created in 1536 when the Holy Roman Emperor and House of Habsburg leader, Carl V, visited The Hague and wanted to alleviate the city’s overcrowding.  The front yards of several prominent residences were appropriated, and the consolidated space was converted into a prestigious walking avenue lined by trees.

For five centuries that vision has provided one of Europe’s most enjoyable urban venues.

The Lange Voorhout in the city center of The Hague, the Netherlands, on a sunny autumn day.

By the late 1500s, as the Middle Ages ended, the region we now know as the Netherlands became a republic.  Its political center became The Hague, and the golden age of the Dutch Empire, one of the most powerful empires in history, began.

The Dutch Empire rose, roamed the world, and receded.  Meanwhile, not much happened on the corner of The Hague’s Lange Voorhout for about 300 years.

Things got interesting in 1858 when Baron van Brienen, a counsellor to Dutch King William III, decided to build a town palace on the corner of the posh Lange Voorhout.  He chose the location despite already enjoying an impressive estate, Clingendael, on the outskirts of The Hague, so that he could host parties in the city center.²

The baron built his urban palace, featuring a magnificent ballroom and other luxurious amenities that would later benefit the future hotel. The palace was a bold statement, and in many ways a physical manifestation of the baron’s ego.

The baron’s eye for detail in the mid-1800s can be found in today’s hotel.  The baron had his initial ‘B’ inscribed on the gilded doorknobs of each chamber, which can still be admired on the doors of the entryway to the hotel salon.  There is a small hole in the top of these doorknobs, designed to accommodate a feather.  A white feather in the doorknob signified to palace staff and visitors that entry was permitted, while a red feather in the doorknob indicated the baron did not want to be disturbed.³

Despite his stature, title, and fortune, in 1863 the baron ultimately did what we all do: he died.

Birth of the Hotel Des Indes

In real estate it’s all about location, location, location.  The baron’s palace occupied a prime spot on the corner of the gathering center of The Hague. A perfect location for a hotel.

After the baron’s death, the palace building was sold, underwent an extensive multi-year renovation, and was dedicated as a hotel.  An 1880 announcement boasted, “This first-grade hotel is the largest in the residency and has been newly furnished according to the standards of this current time.”  Indeed, the Hotel Des Indes was quite the item when it opened.

The hotel’s name, Des Indes, was inspired by the then-famous hotel of the same name in Batavia, or what we know today as Indonesia, which was a Dutch colony.  The coat of arms of Batavia is still displayed in the triangular decoration on the facade of the hotel and on the canopy over the hotel entrance.   The name of the Batavian hotel was copied as a marketing ploy to attract travelers from the Dutch East Indies as guests when visiting The Hague.

The first guest, at least for dinner, was the famous reformed banker-turned-Dutch artist, Hendrik Willem Mesdag.⁴  The painter reserved a large table at the end of April in 1881 to celebrate a wedding anniversary with his wife and his close friends.

Above is a section of Mesdag’s most famous work, the Panorama Mesdag. The painting is a massive panoramic work completed in 1881 that showcases a 360-degree painted view of the beach and dunes at Scheveningen.

On May 1^st, 1881, the hotel officially opened with a toast by Prince Frederick of Orange.  Two days later the hotel hosted a ball, with attendees wearing costumes dressed as Greeks, Turks, or in Renaissance style.

Hotel Des Indes soon made its mark as a progressive and innovative hotel for its time. Each floor had a bathroom and a few years later each room was outfitted with a bathroom, offering hot and cold running water. There was an intercom system that guests could use to call reception from their rooms.  The hotel offered an unprecedented level of luxury and technology.

Home-Away-From-Home for Political Elites

Russian Tsar Nicolas II, the last emperor of Russia, father of Anastasia, and eventual victim of a Bolshevik firing squad, played a pivotal role in the hotel’s legacy when he proposed to host a peace conference in The Hague in 1899.   A slew of new guests, consisting of heads of state, governors, and diplomats, found their way to the residential hotel and stayed there for months during what came to be known as the First International Peace Conference.⁵

The Tsar’s idea and subsequent conference created the opportunity for Hotel Des Indes to cement its reputation among the elites of the diplomatic service.  That’s a key constituency that regularly visits The Hague, the seat of Dutch government.

American political leadership was drawn to the Hotel Des Indes through the years; Presidents Benjamin Harrison, Teddy Roosevelt, and Jimmy Carter stayed at the hotel on separate occasions.

The hotel also has an impressive Pittsburgh connection.

After that first peace conference in 1899, it was agreed that the world needed an International Court of Arbitration so that humans could avoid war.⁶  A donation was made by Andrew Carnegie, at the time the richest man in the world, to construct what became the Peace Palace in The Hague (today it houses the International Court of Arbitration).  Before Andrew Carnegie’s visit to The Hague in 1913 to commemorate the opening of the Peace Palace, the hotel hosted an army of security staff tasked with protecting Carnegie from kidnapping.

Surviving Conflict: Hotel Des Indes Through the World Wars

Austria’s Archduke Franz Ferdinand stayed at the Hotel Des Indes three years before his assassination that triggered the start of the First World War.   Although the Netherlands remained neutral during the Great War, the global strife led to economic calamity, affecting the hotel as well.  It took an intervention by the Dutch government in 1918 to insure the survival of the Hotel Des Indes.  The government bailout of the hotel allowed the Netherlands to offer war negotiators first-class lodging while they immersed in peace talks at the nearby Peace Palace.

Between world wars, in 1929, the hotel hosted diplomats who met at The Hague for the Conference on Reparations, just before the collapse in global financial markets.

Then came World War II. The Netherlands tried to remain neutral at the start, hoping to copy its successful strategy for avoiding World War I’s destruction. Unfortunately, Germany didn’t consider Netherlands neutrality as acceptable, and Hitler demanded its immediate surrender.

He was rebutted initially, so Germany proceeded to have Rotterdam destroyed by German bombers.  Germany promised to unleash the same devastation on The Hague, Amsterdam, and other Dutch cities in the coming days if the Netherlands did not unconditionally surrender. General Winkleman was left in charge of the Dutch government after the queen fled to London.  Facing certain destruction across his country, the general surrendered on May 14^th, 1940, a few doors down from the Hotel Des Indes.

The Germans occupied The Hague and the Wehrmacht moved into the Hotel Des Indes.  A machine gun was placed in the hotel hallway.  A bust of Hitler was brought to the hotel to be placed at the reception area, but the hotel director brazenly objected, and surprisingly the rejection was accepted by the Germans.  The hotel during World War II German occupation became known as the ‘Wehrmacht Hotel’.

LEFT: The Hague Arrival of General Eisenhower Lange Voorhout Palace on Oct. 6, 1945. RIGHT: General Eisenhower and Dutch General Hendrik Johan Kruls at Hotel Des Indes on Jan. 10, 1951 (Credit: Duinen, […] van / Anefo – Nationaal Archief)

After liberation by the Allies, American troops stayed at the hotel.  Britain’s Winston Churchill and General Montgomery were some of the first guests after liberation. There’s a famous photo of General Eisenhower touring The Hague after the war with the Hotel Des Indes in the background, and Ike returned to the hotel in the early 1950s when he became the first NATO commander.

Spectrum of Celebrity Through the Years

Andrew Carnegie wasn’t the only American business titan to be connected to the Hotel Des Indes.  Henry Ford and his family stayed at the hotel in 1930 as he worked on building a Dutch manufacturing facility.  Media tycoon William Hearst stayed at the hotel regularly in the 1930s as he attended art shows looking for Dutch masters works for his extensive art collection.

Charles Lindberg was at the hotel in the 1930s, who after his famous transatlantic flight was the biggest celebrity on the planet.  The Dali Lama was at Des Indes.

Movie stars stayed at the hotel through the years, including France’s Yvette Guilbert in 1902, one of the world’s first movie stars.  Josephine Baker, the first black woman to star in a movie and civil rights activist, stayed at the hotel in 1955.  Iconic Audrey Hepburn signed the hotel guestbook during the mid-1980s. Omar Shariff played in a bridge tournament at the hotel.

Rachmaninoff, of the great composers of classical music, slept at the hotel in 1928.

The most famous ballerina in the world in the 1920s, Anna Pavlova, of The Dying Swan fame, met her premature and unfortunate demise at the hotel in 1931, in the hotel’s Japanese Salon.  Pavlova was traveling, and while staying at the hotel became severely ill.  Doctors told her she had pneumonia, she required an operation, and that she would never be able to dance again if she went ahead with the operation. She refused to have the surgery, saying, “If I can’t dance, then I’d rather be dead”.  She died shortly after in the hotel.

Prince (or the artist formerly known as Prince) set up at Des Indes when he played Rotterdam.  So did Michael Jackson and Bono. The arrival of Mick Jagger brought a mob of hysterical fans in front of the entryway of the hotel.

Incredible Story Within an Epic History

There is one story tied to Hotel Des Indes than impresses above all others, one that does not pertain to a celebrity or notable event.  Instead, it is an amazing story of an individual.

The story belongs to a long-time hotel employee, Kurt Irrgang.  He worked at the hotel for nearly 40 years, but it was his journey over his career that is amazing.

Kurt was born in Germany in 1914 and moved to Belgium when he was a teenager to train for a career in hospitality.  After he graduated from hotel school, he moved to The Hague and started a job as a lobby boy at the Hotel Des Indes.  Kurt married a Dutch woman, she gave birth to twins, and then Germany promptly invaded the Netherlands.  A challenging time to be raising a young family.

But it got worse for Kurt.  When the Germans occupied The Hague and the Wehrmacht settled into the Hotel Des Indes, they came to realize Kurt is German-born.  Protocol dictated that Irrgang be immediately assigned to join the German military.  He was separated from his family and dispatched to the worst front imaginable, the Russian Front.  The last place you would want to be as a German foot solider during World War II.

Toward the end of the war as Germany is collapsing, Kurt is captured by the Russians in Czechoslovakia.  He is sent to a prison camp in Siberia, likely undergoing forced labor, torture, and other trauma that he refused to speak of through his life.  He was released by the Russians a few years after the war’s end, and he made his way back to his family in The Hague.

Kurt returned to the hotel to work and climbed his way up the career ladder to become Matre’d of the Hotel Des Indes.  He officially became a Dutch citizen in 1956.

Kurt became an iconic part of the hotel in the eyes of guests and staff.

Some say history is made by the individual.  Kurt Irrgang’s journey proves they are correct.

Des Indes: Blueprint for Spotting History Hiding in Plain Sight

The story of Hotel Des Indes is one example in one city.  There are hundreds of Hotel Des Indes across America and Europe waiting to be appreciated and decoded.

The Hague is located on the west coast of the Netherlands, approximately 45 miles southwest of Amsterdam. The North Sea is visible on the horizon, above.

Don’t miss hiding-in-plain-sight history and culture during your next visit or trip to wherever life takes you.  It may be where you live and sleep for a few days, or right around the corner.   Travelers from all walks of life will inevitably find something of specific interest to them within the walls of these lodging gems.

Running down the rabbit holes of hotels does not require staying in them.  Simply walk in and look around.   Or grab a drink or a bite to eat.  Many hotels have staff happy to discuss their proud legacies.

Change your travel routine, whether for first-time visits or repeat visits and whether for business or pleasure.  Do a little research prior to find the oldest and most historic hotels.  Invest the time for a quick stop and look around.  You’ll be surprised at what you find.

Hotels offer the opportunity to stumble upon history by accident…but sort of by design.  The best of both worlds.

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[1] Although Amsterdam is the official capital of the Netherlands.  I know, more complicated than it needs to be.  That’s European bureaucracy for you.

[2] This is European royalty we are talking about, after all.

[3] Try that at home and see if it works.  Good luck, if your house is anything like mine.

[4] Mesdag played a key role in the rise of the Haggse School, or The Hague School, of painting.  Their use of somber colors is why they are sometimes referenced as the Gray School.

[5] One hotel guest and conference attendee was Paul Kruger, president of the Republic of South Africa, leader of the peasant rebellion known as the Boer War, and who the famous gold coin Krugerrand is named after.

[6] Does any of that sound familiar?  More than one hundred years later, still working on that thought.

By Nick Deiuliis

The moniker, Alexander the Great, is befitting of the man’s historical resume. Macedonian ruler of the known world, from Greece to India. By age 30, creator of one of the largest empires in history. Undefeated in battle and a brilliant military mind. Visionary leader.

Countless pages over centuries have covered seemingly every aspect of Alexander’s life and campaigns. Historians obsess over Alexander’s military tactics and famous battle sequences. Psychologists opine on his ego, temper, and sexual preferences while physicians diagnose his combat injuries, illnesses, and medical treatments. Logisticians marvel at his army’s supply chain prowess.

Yet there are five critical and intriguing components to Alexander the Great’s epic story that are not properly appreciated. Factors that don’t have much to do with military battles or tactics. Five vital, yet secret, ingredients that were necessary to build the legend.

Most Elite of Upbringings

Aristotle (born 384 BC) is one of history’s greatest minds. The polymath covered subjects spanning the natural sciences, philosophy, linguistics, economics, politics, psychology, and the arts. He attended Plato’s Academy until his late 30s and laid the groundwork for the development of modern science.

The historian Robin Lane Fox noted that Aristotle “wrote books on the constitutions of 158 different states, edited a list of the victors in the games at Delphi, discussed music and medicine, astronomy, magnets and optics, made notes on Homer, analyzed rhetoric, outline the forms of poetry, considered the irrational side of men’s nature, set zoology on a proper experimental course, was intrigued by bees and began the study of Embryology.”

Though Aristotle wrote many elegant treatises and dialogues for publication, only around a third of his original output has survived, and none of it was intended for publication.¹

Shortly after Plato died, Aristotle left Athens and ended up pursuing a crucial career opportunity that impacted world history. Philip II ruled Macedonia, to the north of Greece. The King wanted Aristotle, the best instructor in the land, to tutor Philip’s son, Alexander (not yet known as ‘The Great’).

Phillip built a school in Mieza for Aristotle to instruct young Alexander and a group of young noblemen. The future conqueror received three years of instruction from Aristotle at the academy.²

The archeological site of Mieza located in Macedonia is where Aristotle is believed to have tutored Alexander.

Aristotle prepared for Alexander a special text of the Iliad, which was Alexander’s favorite work. Legend has it that Alexander kept Aristotle’s text on the Iliad under his pillow. Aristotle also wrote pamphlets for Alexander on kingship, colonies, and instructed him on geometry, rhetoric, and the ability to debate a case from one side as well as the other. All of which were tools that would serve Alexander well during his life.

Indeed, Alexander enjoyed the most exclusive of upbringings. His father, Philip II, was King of Macedonia. His teacher was Aristotle. And he attended an elite academy built especially for him.

Not exactly the rearing environment of a common peasant. Yet Alexander as a leader earned the respect of the common soldier through his actions.

Alexander would often lead the attack charge, receive treatment for his wounds after his injured soldiers were cared for, and sleep in the same conditions as his soldiers. That style of leadership is rare, particularly for someone with the privileged background of Alexander.

Family Dysfunction

Alexander the Great experienced a volatile set of family dynamics early in life. An ancient version of a soap opera, reality show, and investigative crime documentary rolled into one.

Alexander’s mother, Olympias, was the wife of Philip II. She was Greek, and since the Greek states were historic rivals of Macedonia, it made the royal arrangement somewhat controversial.

When Alexander was a young man, his father repudiated Alexander’s mother and took as a new wife a Macedonian who had a daughter with Philip and was expecting what was rumored to be a son. If that were true, it would put Alexander’s succession as the next potential ruler of Macedonia, after his father, in jeopardy.

Succession concerns and the risk of not being next in line in the ancient world often resulted in royal homicide. Sure enough, within a year Philip II was assassinated by a bodyguard. The murder catalyzed instant speculation as to who may have been involved in the murder and what the motive was. It placed Alexander into a dangerous dynamic at a critical age.

Depiction of Philip’s assassination by Pausanias in The Story of the Greatest Nations (c. 1900)

The role that Alexander potentially played in his father’s death has been of historical debate for centuries.

Many historians conclude Alexander was an active participant planning his father’s murder. Father and son often fought, at times violently and publicly. Much of the conflict centered on the drama of Philip II repudiating Alexander’s mother and marrying another woman.

But Alexander devising his father’s murder is just one possible scenario.

Aristotle believed the bodyguard who murdered Philip II acted alone and was achieving revenge after Phillip II terminated their homosexual affair.³

Alexander offered his own theory as to who was behind the assassination of his father. He speculated the murder was politically motivated and organized by the Persians, rivals of Phillip II and Macedonia.

And one cannot rule out Alexander’s mother, Olympias, as a prime suspect in planning Philip’s demise. His new marriage humiliated her and hamstrung the political prospects of her son. Interestingly, Olympias ordered that the body of the murderer be taken down from its stake and cremated with honor.

Alexander experienced, dealt with, and successfully navigated through traumatic family drama—positioning him to become king and begin his conquests. Proving once again that what doesn’t kill you often makes you stronger. Or alternatively, if Alexander played a role in his father’s death, proving that sometimes crime pays.

Machiavellian…Centuries Before Machiavelli

Alexander’s upbringing and personal crises at a young age prepared him to become a master at Machiavellian tactics long before the birth of Machiavelli. He had a talent to manipulate politics and shape perception to his liking.

After Alexander would win a major battle, he would often send trophies taken from the enemy (armor, shields, etc.) back to Greece and Athens to be displayed in temples. He would inscribe on the trophies: “Alexander son of Philip and the Greeks”. In parentheses he would write: “Except the Spartans”, and then would continue with “[sends] these spoils from the Persians in Asia”.
Two details of the practice and inscriptions highlight Alexander’s political savvy and group psychology mastery.

The sending of trophies back to Athens adorned with his inscription of being ‘the son of the Greeks’ was public relations genius. Athens and much of Greece were the least reliable allies of Macedonia and Alexander. Alexander’s practice transformed himself into a Greek, whereby it would be more difficult for Greeks or Athenians to not stick with the alliance.

His parenthetical portion of the trophy inscriptions, ‘except the Spartans’, accomplished an even larger public relations feat. Specifically excluding the Spartans conveniently allowed Alexander to rewrite history into a version that was more suited to his goals. Before Alexander, the Spartans were the undisputed regional leaders and champions of Greek liberty against the Persians.⁴ Excluding Sparta in the trophies’ dedications was Alexander’s way to modify history, whereby he displaced the Spartan legacy of being the exemplar of Greek resistance against the recognized enemy, Persia. And inserted himself as the new exemplar.

Welcoming Input, Only to Decide the Opposite

Alexander encouraged debate and input from his senior advisors throughout campaigns. Yet he also had a penchant for deciding a course counter to what those closest to him advised. As far as Alexander was concerned, the consensus be damned.

The Empire of Alexander the Great

Four examples show the dynamic at play.

The earliest decision point involved what to do about Persia’s formidable naval fleet in the Mediterranean. Alexander’s advisers urged seeking a direct naval battle with the Persians and then pivoting to the next step based upon the outcome of the naval encounter.

Alexander disagreed. His strategic vision was beyond what his advisers could see. While the advisers were thinking short-term and tactical victory or setback, Alexander was thinking long-term and aiming for total global domination. He chose to forgo a direct naval battle and instead to take out Persian naval bases along the coast to, as he put it, ‘defeat the Persian fleet from the land.’ It was unconventional thinking and it worked.

A second decision point that illustrated Alexander’s penchant for bucking the consensus and choosing a separate path came after Alexander won his first battle against Darius of Persia. Darius offered Alexander an enticing bribe to cease his campaign: all of Asia Minor. Alexander pushed on and after he won another battle against Darius, the Persian leader upped his offer to include all territory up to the Euphrates River, treasure, and Darius’ daughter’s hand in marriage.

Alexander’s advisors strongly urged him to accept the deal. Darius’ offer was far beyond what the advisors hoped to achieve tactically in the campaign. But Alexander flatly refused, using the justification that he already informed Darius that he, Alexander, was Lord of Asia. Therefore, all Darius’ wealth and lands were already Alexander’s, including Darius’ daughter’s hand in marriage (but only if Alexander wanted to take it).

Alexander’s decision to not accept the offer and continue with the campaign proved a good one. Alexander’s advisors played tactical checkers while Alexander was playing strategic chess.

Two other examples of Alexander astutely dissenting from his advisors’ opinions at crucial decision points pertain to battle tactics.

At the Granicus, advisors thought attempting to cross the river with the Persian army already sitting at the other bank would be disastrous. Alexander was convinced attacking directly across the river would create a psychological advantage for his army and result in victory and proclaimed, “I should feel ashamed after crossing the sea from Europe to Asia if this little stream should hinder us.” He led the charge into the river, which led to victory.

At Guagamela, Alexander’s inner circle debated whether the army should attack at night or daylight. Advisors thought a night attack better, but Alexander felt it could confuse the troops and would not be befitting of the reputation of the army. He said darkness belonged to “robbers and way layers” and “…my glory shall not be diminished by stealing a victory. I am determined on an open attack.” Once again, his decision led to victory.

Oratory to Manipulate, Inspire, and Persuade

Alexander was an extremely talented orator. He was able to connect with and inspire his troops at crucial junctures.

Looking to conquer the known world over the course of years will create times when the army grows weary and frustrated. Alexander’s army, thousands of miles from home and away for years, was not immune to that phenomenon. One of Alexander’s most effective tools for countering poor morale and recharging it was his gift for public speaking.

Alexander and Porus by Charles Le Brun, painted 1673, depicting the Battle of the Hydaspes.⁵

A crucial test of energizing poor morale via oratory for Alexander was presented by his army in India. To manipulate his troops’ feelings and to motivate them to stay, he gave a passionate speech. He focused on his leading from the front, subjecting himself to the hardships of the common soldier, and of the loyalty owed to him.

Alexander said:

“I have no part of my body, in front at least, that is left without scars; there is no weapon, used at close quarters, or hurled from afar, of which I do not carry the mark. I have been wounded by the sword, shot with arrows, struck from a catapult, smitten many times with stones and clubs for you, for your glory, for your wealth.”

He continued with:

“Depart all of you and when you reach home, tell them there that your king, Alexander, victor over the Persians… Tell them, I say that you deserted him, that you took yourselves off, leaving him to the care of the wild tribes you conquered. This, when you declare it, will be no doubt glorious among men and pious in the sight of heaven. Be gone!”

Alexander certainly had a sense for the dramatic and could adeptly use words to sway.

He coupled the speech with elaborate sulking theatrics over the following few days, and by the end of the performance, his army was ready to follow him anywhere and for as long as he liked.

Five Secret Ingredients Helped Transform Alexander into ‘The Great’

Five crucial and underappreciated attributes helped transform Alexander into the legend. The development of his story required much more than military prowess, bravery, and good timing.

It also required:

• An elite upbringing at the foot of his king-father and Aristotle;
• Volatile family dynamics, which tested and introduced him at an early age to the harsh realities of leadership;
• Ability to define vision and manipulate perception through astute public relations and optics;
• Confidence to gather views of trusted advisors but to decide on a different course; and,
• Gifted oratory to sway and inspire during challenging times.

To learn more about the man beyond the military campaigns, check out John Keegan’s The Mask of Command.

A great unconventional work on Alexander is Lance Kurke’s The Wisdom of Alexander the Great: Enduring Leadership Lessons from the Man Who Created an Empire.

The trove of thoughts and views on Alexander the Great seems endless. Indeed, there is still much to learn from the legend, twenty-three centuries later.

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[1] Here’s a pair of questions to ponder: How different would life today or modern history be if we had the benefit of the full writings and learnings of prior great minds like Aristotle?  If you tally up the cumulative knowledge that mankind amassed over the eons and across the great societies, what percentage survived for today?  Most, half, or only a small fraction?  Your answers may lead to fascinating alternative history scenarios, but for a sacking or pandemic here and there.

[2] Ivy League grads’ bragging rights pale next to those other young noblemen at the Mieza Academy, who were instructed by Aristotle and were classmates with Alexander the Great.

[3] It was quite common for male elites to be openly bisexual during Philip II’s time.

[4] Movie buffs may be familiar with Sparta’s resistance to Persia from the film 300, which was a fictionalized retelling of the Battle of Thermopylae in the Greco-Persian Wars.  Sparta’s King Leonidas led 300 fearless Spartans into battle against the Persian King Xerxes’ massive army.

[5] From Britannica: “The Battle of the Hydaspes effectively marked Alexander’s farthest advance on the Indian subcontinent. Faced with larger kingdoms to the east and tired from years of war, his army subsequently mutinied and forced him to turn back toward Macedonia. During the return march, Alexander died in Babylon in 323 BCE, and his empire was subsequently divided among his generals.”

By Nick Deiuliis

The summer of 1921 was a memorable time in America: Babe Ruth was having one of the greatest seasons in baseball history as he worked toward a new single-season home run record, America’s jazz age was getting ready for takeoff, heavyweight champion Jack Dempsey would defeat light heavyweight champion Georges Carpentier in a “battle of the century” before upwards of 90,000 in Jersey City, and striking West Virginia coal miners battled the US Army at Blair Mountain.

The summer of 1921 also brought one of the saddest and most lamentable chapters in American jurisprudence. A show trial that delivered tragic consequences and that stamped a reputational black eye on the United States.

Too few Americans today are aware of the event, yet in 1921 just about every American, along with millions across the globe, intensely followed the event’s proceedings.¹

It was the trial, which led to the eventual wrongful execution, of two Italian immigrants, Nicola Sacco and Bartolomeo Vanzetti.

Events Leading to Trial

During the spring of 1920, there was a robbery of the payroll cash for the employees of a shoe company just outside of Boston. Two individuals transporting the payroll cash were summarily executed by the bandits.

Violent robberies were not uncommon in the United States during the early 1920s. But this robbery and the homicides led to a gross miscarriage of justice.

Weeks after the killings, police were tipped off that two potential suspects were on a streetcar. Officers ran down and boarded the streetcar and detained two nervous-looking Italians: Sacco and Vanzetti. They were carrying loaded handguns and anarchist literature.

The anarchist literature instantly drew scrutiny. During the late 1910s and the 1920s, America was subjected to numerous bombings and terrorist acts by anarchists. Many a politician, judge, or businessperson were targeted with, and in some instances killed by, street or mail bombings.

Yet Sacco and Vanzetti had no prior arrests and no history of violence. Amazingly, there was no physical evidence, fingerprints or other, that placed either accused at the scene of the crime.

Sacco had a good job and was a dedicated family man. Vanzetti struggled when he first came to America, but after years of toiling he successfully built a fish cart business that became quite profitable.

The two suspects knew each other but weren’t particularly close friends. Sacco came across as apolitical and anything but an anarchist, while Vanzetti was more of a political thinker and clearly held anti-state views.

Law enforcement made a mockery of due process once Sacco and Vanzetti were taken in for questioning. When witnesses to the crime viewed lineups of potential suspects for identification, both Sacco and Vanzetti were presented alone and individually, without the benefit of a lineup. Unbelievably, the police informed witnesses that the two men were prime suspects before asking the witness whether they saw either at the scene of the crime.

Despite the absence of probable cause linking Sacco and Vanzetti to the murders and the lack of due process, both were charged with murder. Public opinion demanded it, as the nation and law enforcement were in near panic over the widespread bombing campaign by anarchists. The mood of the country steamrolled due process and the individual rights of Sacco and Vanzetti.

Now they were in a fight for their lives.

Kangaroo Court²

The bungling of due process before trial paled in comparison to the miscarriage of justice that was about to unfold in the courtroom that summer in 1921. The trial lasted nearly two months and produced thousands of pages of testimony.

It is noteworthy that neither defendant was fluent in English, having only a rudimentary ability to converse in it. But during police questioning and during trial, questions were proffered in English, and responses were delivered in broken English by Sacco and Vanzetti. The defendants struggled to understand the questions and the jury likely lost much in translation and misconstrued the defendants’ testimony.³

Bias was evident with both the judge and jury during the trial. Early in the proceedings, the jury foreman commented, “Damn them, they ought to hang anyway.” No action was taken by the court.

Judge Thayer presided over the trial and was a procedural nightmare. Toward the end of the proceedings, he lectured the jury on the concept of ‘consciousness of guilt’, which is the theory that innocent people do not need to fabricate answers or be evasive when answering questions from law enforcement or at trial. Which was a marginally indirect way of telling the jury that Sacco and Vanzetti were guilty.

The jury went into deliberation and after a few hours returned guilty verdicts for both men. The sentence would be death by electrocution.

Years of Systemic Moral Cowardice

The extensive appeal process dragged on for several years. Request for retrials were submitted, drawing on the numerous procedural transgressions and flaws, from arrest through sentencing. And all the requests were denied, despite a growing cadre of influential Sacco and Vanzetti supporters.

Petitions in support of the condemned were signed by Albert Einstein, George Bernard Shaw, and H. G. Wells.

Felix Frankfurter, the future legendary Supreme Court justice, was then a law professor at Harvard and publicly campaigned to denounce the stacked and biased legal system that Sacco and Vanzetti were subjected to.

Frankfurter stated, “I assert with deep regret, without the slightest fear of disproof, but certainly in modern times Judge Thayer’s opinion stands unmatched for discrepancies between what the record discloses and what the opinion conveys. His 25,000 word document cannot accurately be described otherwise than as a farrago of misquotations, misrepresentations, suppressions, and mutilations. The opinion is literally honeycombed with demonstrable errors, and a spirit alien to judicial utterance permeates the whole.”

The governor of Massachusetts, Alvin Fuller, who could grant a stay of execution, was an especially interesting situation. He took a genuine interest in the case after the trial by reading transcripts, talking to jurors, and interviewing witnesses. And the governor invested significant time getting to know Sacco and Vanzetti when they sat in jail. He came to like both, especially Vanzetti.

But the governor begrudgingly refused to grant a stay of execution. He did, however, create a slight delay of a week or two to allow the US Supreme Court to grant a retrial or hear new evidence. But the Supreme Court did not intervene.

It was as if everyone who had the power to do something was hoping that someone else would do something. And no one did anything.

Thus, on the evening of August 22nd, 1927, the system was preparing to execute the two men, about six years after their trial.

Sacco was executed first. Vanzetti followed and he had last words to offer, putting to work his better mastery of English that he developed by studying in prison while on death row. Vanzetti’s final words were, “I wish to tell you that I am innocent, and that I never committed any crime, but sometimes some sin. I thank you for everything you have done for me. I am innocent of all crime, not only of this, but all. I am an innocent man. I wish to forgive some people for what they are now doing to me.” Vanzetti was electrocuted to death.

By 12:30 in the morning of August 23rd, the sad journey of Sacco and Vanzetti came to a tragic end.

The coffins of Sacco and Vanzetti are carried out from the Langone Funeral Home in Boston’s North End on August 28, 1927.

Aftermath

Between 1921, when Sacco and Vanzetti were first put on trial, through 1927 at their execution, scores of protests, bombings, and attacks occurred in the United States and abroad. The world took an objective look at America’s supposed and self-described system of fair justice and didn’t like at all what it saw.

Once Sacco and Vanzetti were dead, tensions escalated further. Protests broke out in Buenos Aires, Mexico City, Johannesburg, Sydney, and Tokyo. In Cuba, the US embassy was bombed.

Europe expressed extreme anti-American sentiment after the executions. Many European demonstrations were violent. Hyde Park in London saw brawls between protesters and police, with dozens injured, some seriously. In Geneva, the League of Nations was attacked. In Paris, residents roamed the streets looking for Americans to assault. American hotels and theaters that played American films were attacked across the continent. The mayor of New York, on a goodwill tour of Germany when the executions occurred, was threatened with physical violence in Berlin.

In the summer of 1927, just after the Sacco and Vanzetti executions, it wasn’t safe to be an American beyond the borders of the United States.

The Hard Truth

Officially, Sacco and Vanzetti were executed for the murders tied to the payroll robbery outside of Boston.

But the real reason that Sacco and Vanzetti were killed was that they were guilty of being Italian at a time in America when that’s all it took to be falsely accused and convicted of a crime. And to die for it.

The system, along with many Americans, during that era didn’t consider immigrants, particularly Italians, as deserving of the same individual rights that native-born citizens enjoyed. Most Italians in the 1910s in 1920s would be excluded from employment consideration and educational opportunities. Neighborhoods would put up restrictive covenants to keep Italians from living there. In the South, it wasn’t atypical where Italians would have the option of attending Black schools or no school at all.

For decades before the Sacco and Vanzetti trial, mainstream media in America openly expressed hostile racism toward Italians. The New York Times said in 1875 that it is “perhaps hopeless to think of civilizing the [Italians] or keeping them in order, except by the arm of the law.” Popular Science published in 1890 the article What Shall We Do With the “Dago”?

The unwillingness of America to integrate immigrants into society made it incredibly difficult for non-English-speaking immigrants to develop language fluency. It created a negative feedback loop, where the broken English was viewed by mainstream society either as an unwillingness to assimilate or as a sign of someone (or some race) not being intelligent.

Indeed, the Sacco and Vanzetti drama was one of the saddest moments in American history.

And it wasn’t because Sacco and Vanzetti were saints. Or that they were not anarchists; because there is sufficient evidence where a reasonable person could assume that they were indeed anarchists. And that they may have been guilty of not just sin, but perhaps crime.

A reasonable person could even conclude that the men played a role in the holdup murders, indirectly or directly. More than one expert in criminal law studying the case came to such a conclusion decades after the trial.

The critical failing of America was how the system went about treating Sacco and Vanzetti.

Neither accused received fair and equal treatment under the law. In fact, the system went out of its way to prejudice both men. The cumulative evidence presented during trial did not come close to approaching the standard of ‘beyond a reasonable doubt.’ The state prosecution failed miserably to present a compelling case for conviction and the judge was far from unbiased.

The system went to painfully disturbing ends to justify a desired outcome. Any non-immigrant white American at the time would have had the case against them dismissed and thrown out of court.

But these defendants were immigrants, and the worst kind at the time, Italians. Bombings by anarchists were occurring all over the eastern United States and in major cities. Guilt by association. A different set of standards, rights, and protections than what the Constitution prescribed. All of it shamefully imposed and sanctioned by the system itself.

1921 America Informs 2024 America

The Sacco and Vanzetti debacle should guide Americans pondering present immigration and criminal justice policies and norms. There is no doubt that a civil society needs consistency and a sound rules-based system; open borders and refusing to prosecute (or selectively prosecuting) crime invite chaos and societal breakdown.

But Sacco and Vanzetti serve as a warning of the dangers of allowing knee-jerk public opinion to sway policy and process from the consistent and rational to the erratic and emotional.

Consider how the Sacco and Vanzetti debacle highlights the lurking dangers of the death penalty.

Even the best-designed legal systems can be corrupted or subjected to bias at times (or often). A civil society that respects the sanctity of the individual and where the accused is presumed innocent until proven guilty beyond a reasonable doubt cannot afford to make wrongful decision of guilt with a capital punishment case.

And the system can wrongly assign guilt in capital punishment cases three ways.

• The first way is via the Sacco and Vanzetti route, where the system simply fails and chooses not to function in a consistent and fair manner. The system goal-seeks for a conviction and goes through the motions only to justify what it already predetermined to deliver.
• The second way is where the guilt beyond-a-reasonable-doubt standard still leaves a level of subjective judgment to jurors. If one thousand juries convict one thousand defendants of first-degree murder and the state executes all the convicted, what if the juries’ accuracy rate on actual guilt is as good as, say, 95%? That would mean society killed fifty innocent people.
• The third way is making life-and-death decisions based on limited information. Consider how many of today’s wrongly accused would have been summarily put to death back in the day without the benefit of modern technology that exonerates (GPS, forensics, DNA, etc.) But if the system already executed the wrongly accused, then what?

The more rational route is life imprisonment without parole upon conviction for first-degree murder. Unless the accused confesses to the murder, in which case society can proceed with execution with a clear conscience. It’s not perfect and it would preserve the life of a criminal who indeed committed a heinous act. But it will protect the wrongly convicted from being murdered for a murder they didn’t commit.

On the 50th anniversary of the executions, Massachusetts Governor Dukakis issued a proclamation that Sacco and Vanzetti had been unfairly tried and convicted and that “any disgrace should be forever removed from their names.”

If America learned anything over the century since the Sacco and Vanzetti trial, let it be to think rationally instead of acting rashly.

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1. It’s been labeled as the trial of the century, and no trial rivaled it for notoriety until a defendant named OJ Simpson went on trial for murder.

2. Kangaroo court: a court whose proceedings deviate so far from accepted legal norms that they can no longer be considered fair or just.

3. The Q&A transcripts at trial illustrate how the language barrier produced responses to the jury that were challenging to interpret and understand.