Samizdata

People sometimes ask me why I travel, and how I choose where I travel to. Let me give a recent example.

I have recently been making an effort to fill in gaps in my knowledge of modern European history. In particular, I have been attempting to learn about the Napoleonic Wars, and the subsequent growth of Prussia and its evolution into the German empire. The remnants of Europe’s 20th century history are obvious and everywhere, but the remnants of earlier upheavals are equally there if you look for them. I have a certain penchant for looking at odd and peculiar remnants of the past, sometimes big, sometimes small. When in Poland late last year, for instance, I found myself visiting the remains of the mausoleum of Prussian General Gebhard Leberecht von Blücher, victor alongside the Duke of Wellington at the Battle of Waterloo. This was desecrated by the Red Army in the closing days of the Second World War – Russian soldiers used the general’s skull for a game of football when doing so – and is not particularly easy to find these days, as Poland does not exactly advertise its presence, but it is there if you look for it.

And when reading about those same wars, I discovered an interesting fact: that there is an outstanding territorial dispute between Spain and Portugal from the same era. The river Guadiana forms the approximate border between Spain and Southern Portugal, although there are significant pieces of land that are east of the river and nonetheless part of Portugal. There used to be more. The town of Olivenza (in Spanish) / Olivença (in Portuguese) was Portuguese from the thirteenth century until the nineteenth (full details here). However, as Portugal allied itself with England in 1373 and the Spanish kingdoms were more often allied with France or other continental European powers, European wars along with local rivalries meant that the border was often fortified and there were various military skirmishes in the area over the centuries. For instance, the Ajuda Bridge across the Guadiana (which like many bridges in rural Portugal is often claimed to be Roman but which was actually built in the 16th century) connecting Olivença to the nearby Portuguese town of Elvas, was destroyed in 1709 during the War of Spanish Succession. Lack of resources, continuing instability, and the devastating earthquake of 1755 prevented it from being rebuilt before Olivença fell to the Spanish in the War of the Oranges in 1801, and was ceded to Spain in the Treaty of Badajoz that same year.

One article of that treaty stated that if either side breached any article of the treaty, the whole treaty was void. Spain and Portugal went to war again in the Peninsular War of 1807, at which point Portugal claimed that the Treaty of Badajoz had been abrogated as a consequence. Upon the final defeat of Napoleon, Britain promised to aid Portugal in achieving the return of Olivença, and a clause was inserted in the Treaty of Vienna in which it was agreed that the powers would “endeavour with the mightiest conciliatory effort to return Olivenza to Portuguese authority”. After a bit of foot dragging, Spain signed the treaty.

And that is where we are today. Spain occupies Olivenza to this day, stating that agreeing to “endeavour with the mightiest conciliatory effort” is not the same as agreeing to do something, and claiming that the Treaty of Badajoz is still valid. Portugal rolls its eyes at this, and states that the Peninsular War makes the Treaty of Badajoz null and void anyway, plus Spain agreed to give Olivença back under the treaty of Vienna. The Napoleonic wars apparently continue on this small corner of the Iberian Peninsula, just as the Franco-Prussian War apparently still goes on in Liechtenstein. In practice, nobody gets too worked up about this, as modern relations between the two countries are good.

Before Christmas, I learned all this and I thought it was kind of interesting. In addition I was able to get a very cheap airfare to Faro on the Algarve and a cheap car rental when I arrived there. Plus the forecast in London was for heavy snow, and I wanted to get out of the cold for a few days. Plus I always have a lovely time when I go to Portugal – especially when I drive into the interior. There is a certain cliche of rural France (much represented in French cinema and much parodied in Stella Artois commercials) that seems largely gone when one visits rural France. One still finds it rather more in rural Portugal, and I find this rather charming.

So, the plan was set. I would fly in, have a look at the coast, and drive up the Portuguese side of the border, roughly following the Guadiana river, ultimately ending up at Olivenza. I would look for lingering signs of Portugueseness and resentment from the Napoleonic wars. If I had time, I might then head for the coast near Lisbon, look for the location used in a music video of a song by a Romanian pop princess that I had viewed in a bar in Transylvania a couple of weeks earlier, for no particular reason other than it reminded me a little of home. → Continue reading: Do or not do. There is no endeavour with the mightiest conciliatory effort