Lords of Misrule

Then and Now

Lords of Misrule

Then and Now

The origins of ‘misrule’ goes as far back as ancient Rome and the festival of Saturnalia, celebrated in late December in honour of the Roman god of social order and agriculture Saturn. The festival deliberately inverted the social order and mandated that slaves dined with their masters, freely allowed gambling, and chose a mock king to preside over the revelries – dubbed the ‘King of Chaos’. This King of Chaos became the common ancestor of the other ‘Lords of Misrule’ throughout Christian Europe in the medieval period, when misrule became attached to the Twelve Days of Christmas. Carnival associated with Shrove Tuesday has its origins in Roman times too. Both were seen by some as a controlled safety valve to let off steam and reduce societal pressures.

The English Lord of Misrule – often called the ‘Abbot of Unreason’ in Scotland, or the ‘Prince des Sots’ in France (‘sots’ meaning fools) – was appointed to oversee the Christmas festivities, typically from All Hallows’ Eve through to Candlemas in February. He presided over feasting, games, and elaborate theatrical disorder. Royal households regaled their courts – particularly during Henry VIII’s time with their notable festivities. The Inns of Court allowed law students to elect a ‘Master of Revels’ to hold elaborate mock and satirical legal proceedings. Not to be outdone, the Church had its own parallel tradition in the Feast of Fools, where junior clergy would parody the Mass and ecclesiastical authority, which the Church hierarchy periodically tried – and largely failed – to suppress. That is until the ultimate Party Poopers – aka the Puritans – dealt the tradition a resounding blow in the 17th century during the Interregnum in England. Lords of Misrule were labelled licentious and pagan, despite its Christian Twelfth Night customs and various folk traditions.

In Shakespeare’s Twelfth Night, the tradition of the wildest night of misrule before the world returned to its normal order is both festive and topsy-turvy. Social inversion takes place with Viola disguising herself as she crosses gender boundaries, while the servant Malvolio (Mr ‘Ill-Will’) presumes to rise above his station and court his mistress Lady Olivia. Its subplot with the hilarious Sir Toby Belch, Sir Andrew Aguecheek (meaning red-faced or flushed) and the incomparable Maria is essentially a prolonged festival of disorder where drinking, carousing, and the humiliation of authority is the new normal. Shakespeare writes the classic ‘misrule’ setup when Malvolio, a servant and a pompous fool, is tricked by a conspiracy of his fellow ‘lower orders’ to bring him down. Feste the fool represents the true noble institution connected to misrule, since he’s the one who speaks inconvenient truths. Any licensed fool in early modern Britain existed outside the social norms and hierarchy and was literally licenced to speak these uncomfortable truths – and consequently were shielded by the power of comedy.

Some may feel that we live in an Age of Misrule today, where not only the social order is topsy-turvy but also the political order is running amok led by modern Lords and Ladies of Misrule. A TACO (Trump-Always-Chickens-Out) president, a prime minister under siege by his friends in the Labour Party, UN votes from Africa (28% of total votes) receive an average 86% increase in official development assistance when toeing the Chinese line (Source: AidData), the first royal brother ever arrested under suspicion of misconduct in a public office, reports about Russian kompromat, Epstein and a general sense of a loss of democracy all serve to make us wonder when the world will turn right-side up.

In England, our Labour government’s dizzying pirouettes are a symptom of leaders who haven’t thought through their actions within the ever-present Laws of Unintended Consequences. It is little wonder this week’s The Economist bears the image of 10 Downing Street protected by sandbags from the storm (with Larry the cat sitting on top) and the headline, ‘It will only get worse before it gets better’.

Misrule is misused by politicians today as they seek a ‘new order’, save for The Monster Raving Loony Party. It alone has a strong claim to the genuine Lord of Misrule tradition. Founded by Screaming Lord Sutch in 1983, it has always understood its role perfectly. It exists to mock the pretensions of political authority, to puncture pomposity, and to remind us not to take the whole theatre too seriously. Like the medieval Lord of Misrule, it operates entirely within the system while gleefully subverting it. Best of all: everyone knows it is a joke. The inversion is understood by everyone. It is socially useful rather than dangerous. Lord Sutch championed ‘silly things’ like passports for pets, all day opening for pubs – both of which subsequently became government policy.

When interviewed by the Tameside Reporter along with the other nine contenders about the serious local issue of Houses in Multiple Occupation for the Greater Manchester seat of Gorton and Denton vacated by Andrew Gwynne, the Monster Raving Loony Party candidate, Sir Oink-a-Lot responded simply, ‘Oink, oink.’ More seriously, on antisocial behaviour, Sir Oink offered a characteristically unconventional proposal: ‘Free sausages and bacon for everyone.’ It would help fill struggling foodbanks certainly.

And on the fundamental question of why voters should back him, Sir Oink-a-Lot said: ‘People have had enough of snouts in troughs,’ a biting and witty reference to Gwynne’s dismissal for his WhatsApp indiscretions. The man who made Sir Oink’s Loony candidacy possible was ‘Farmin’ Dave’ who was unable to assist with nominations as he was attending a Moldovian Mangelwurzel Convention abroad, forcing Sir Oink to ‘snout out’ the required signatures with help from someone called ‘Andy at the Jolly Hatters’ instead.

Among the other candidates for Gorton and Denton is Matthew Goodwin of The Reform Party. Neither he nor the party are agents of misrule, despite pretending to have so many of its elements. Still, anything goes in the Reform campaign from Holocaust denial to obnoxious and hateful slurs against Jews and the LGBTQ+ community. Reform’s deliberate disruption of established order, carnivalesque rallies, and self-aggrandising puffs that it’s turning things upside down to shake out corruption shouts chaos, not misrule. Reform does not serve the existing social order to improve it. They are no Feste or licenced fool, but rather once and future kings who believe their moment of fantasy coronation is now.

Shakespeare knew better. While the Bard doesn’t entirely or comfortably restore order, leaving Malvolio with a bitter promise of revenge, Feste does sing his haunting song about the rain and the passage of time in life with a ‘hey-ho’. Shakespeare is wistful, understanding that the return to order after misrule always carries a cost – that something liberating and true is lost when the festivities end.

Our modern ‘Lords of Chaos’ should learn from Shakespeare. Misrule is finite. Order returns after a short interlude, with the ‘lower orders’ harking after more justice in the world and striving to achieve it. The modern ‘misrule’ gurus are all about power and greed, and not about serving society.

If those who follow the modern ‘Lords of Chaos’ don’t like Shakespeare, they could learn from real facts and real history. When the Allies bankrupted the former Imperial Germany at Versailles in 1919, the carnivalesque cultural and political figures of Weimar Germany rose from the ashes in the 1920s, while Italy embraced its fascist leader ‘Il Duce’ Benito Mussolini. The Laws of Unintended Consequences naturally followed.