I almost did my PhD in Tudor History. I know Henry VIII well, and watching Trump is sometimes like seeing him reincarnated.
We’re not sure what ate Henry’s brain. (It likely wasn’t syphilis, despite the rumors.) Now we’re wondering what’s eating Trump’s brain. Are brain worms contagious? Why are powerful men so MAD?
This isn’t America’s first fight against a mad king. Common knowledge, hopefully, thanks to Hamilton.
Tens of thousands of people flood the streets
There’s screams and church bells ringing
And as our fallen foes retreat
I hear the drinking song they’re singing
The world turned upside down
We won! - We won! - We won! - WE WON!
But did you know that the English famously fought a mad king too? And also won.
Charles I of England came into power in 1625. His father, James I of England (James VI of Scotland) was Mary Queen of Scots’s son, and the king who brought us the King James Bible. (A very dangerous translation, but that’s an essay for another time.) Though notoriously paranoid, James was a successful king and beloved by the people. So when his son, Charles, took the throne, expectations were high.
Charles (pictured above) had grown up like a child celebrity - particularly coddled due to his sickly nature, armed guards everywhere. But the real kicker was the same thing that happened to Henry VIII.
You see, Henry had an older brother, Arthur - The First Born Heir, and Henry was the “spare.” Arthur died from “sweating sickness” at the age of 15. (Henry later married his wife, Catherine of Aragon, and then had five more wives after that; it’s a fucking soap opera.)
So, just like Henry, Charles was the spare. That was, at least, until his older brother (also Henry) died from typhoid at the age of 18. Henry had been stronger, healthier, adored by all, but particularly worshipped by his younger brother. Charles had a lot to live up to.
The people hated him. He married a Catholic, which was a slap in the face to a country that had fought hard for their Protestant freedoms. His relations with his Parliament were tumultuous and they increasingly worked to (often successfully) disempower him. So… he got pissed off and dissolved Parliament!
The 11 years that Charles I ruled without Parliament are sometimes referred to as “The Tyranny.” Parliament eventually resumed, but by this time, Charles was overwhelmingly paranoid, regularly calling for the arrests of his perceived enemies. Eventually, a period of civil war ensued. Oliver Cromwell led the opposing forces against the king. Charles was arrested, charged with High Treason (as a commoner, so no protections there), and beheaded in front of a large crowd who basically pirated his dead body.
For the 11 years following the execution of King Charles I, Cromwell deemed himself “Lord Protector of the Common Wealth” and ruled over England as a republic. He was a trillion times worse than Charles had been, asserting Puritan rule that required ascetic renunciation from the people, while he partied his ass off. We hate this dude. Think all the politicians (and celebrities) partying while the rest of us were locked down during Covid. But for ELEVEN years.
Eventually, after Cromwell’s death, the son of Charles I, Charles II, retook the Crown, though it was a long battle to get him there. I’ll let you read up on that in your own time. I want to get back to my point about mad kings.
What made Charles I so unique was that he defied traditions and laws. His father had set forth (with the aid of carefully tailored Biblical references) an ideology that kings were superior to anyone else, nearest to God. It was the Divine Right of Kings on steroids. The way Charles behaved, driven by paranoia and vengefulness, it was clear that he subscribed to this ideology too.
But he wasn’t unique compared to Henry VIII. Charles may have dissolved Parliament, but Henry dissolved England’s ties to the Catholic Church, founding the Church of England. Long story that you can read more about in my forthcoming book, but basically, Henry wanted what he wanted and laws didn’t apply to him and thousands of years of religious rule didn’t phase him and nothing and no one would stand in his way.
Any of this sound familiar?
Besides Charles and Henry, guess who also had an older brother who died and has a shit ton of daddy issues and god complexes? That’s right. Donald Trump.
(Side note: If you haven’t seen The Apprentice, you should. It’s one of the best films I’ve ever seen in my life and it will give you so much context.)
Historically, the people (that’s us!) have defeated mad kings.
Today, on No Kings Day, let’s remember our power, and their weakness.
We are a country built by immigrants. And no, I don’t mean our colonizing English ancestors and their Cromwell-ass Puritan fuckery. I mean, the people of color that we brought here, who crafted this country, whose indentured labor formed our industries and infrastructures, whose work ethic we still rely on every day, while our systems continually disenfranchise them.
We owe everything to immigrants.
We are not a white nation. We are not a Christian nation. We are not a nation of kings. We are a nation of gorgeous differences and diversities and heritages and lived experiences that make us stronger, the more we recognize and love and work with each other.
To everyone out protesting today, while I write this safely from my apartment in a small conservative-adjacent town, I salute and admire you with all my heart. Be safe, be vigilant, be empowered. Thank you. <3
With love, Your Friendly Neighborhood Philosopher (and Historian, apparently)
Fun related fact: My forthcoming historical book, The Philosophy of Anne Boleyn, is in process and even received a generous research grant last year!