2 min read

Les Miserables: The Fog of War

There is an element of tempestuous convulsion in every battle - quid obscurum, quid divinum - and every historian, peering into the mƩlƩe, can find what he looks for.

This idea of quid obscurum, quid divinum (I prefer the ā€œsomething hidden, something divineā€ translation) is used to point out the inherent danger in trying to pull meaning out of the chaos inherent to the fog of war. As Hugo says, the historian can find there whatever it is they might be looking for.

Hugo doesn’t use this to say ā€œwe will find no meaning hereā€ but rather seems to be saying ā€œwe should tread carefully and be aware of our biases hereā€. This is sage advice, and we’ll see if he follows it or not in the chapters ahead šŸ˜‚.

I’m not a historian, but I have definitely seen this take place with religious texts many times. Obscurity and uncertainty provide a convenient cover for smuggling all sorts of cultural ideas into a text and it’s interpretation. The Bible is a book that can be made to say pretty much anything the reader (or more often the preacher) wants it to say. It is a multi-vocal text that is often forced to support a uni-vocal ā€œthus saith the Lordā€ type of pronouncement (or collection of pronouncements). The same seems to be true of any historical event that may have some perspective bound re-tellings.

As we plumb the history surrounding the Battle of Waterloo with Hugo as a guide, it’s almost like he’s warning us ahead of time: ā€œthis path is foggy and chaotic - try and come in with an open but skeptical mind, and hold your conclusions with an open mind.ā€ I’ll do my best Hugo!