A Few Thoughts on Tyrann’s Foreign Policy – 8. An Unplanned War: In the Forests and Swamps of the Northwest-3
Here is the next installment in an interesting series of articles from VK by medieval historian Vitaly Pensky, which I think will be of interest to readers and colleagues.
In the previous two installments, we discussed how the situation in the eastern Baltic region was viewed through the eyes of the Livonians themselves (who, by historical standards, would very soon be served as the first course) and the Russians (the people of Pskov, Novgorod, and the ruler of Muscovy). Now let’s look at it through the eyes of the Jagiellons (and, for the sake of completeness, Albrecht Hohenzollern, the last Landmeister of Prussia and the first Duke of Prussia). By the way, I apologize for the Freudian slip—I previously called him Willy, but there were good reasons for that, since the Archbishop of Riga was his brother, who happened to be Wilhelm, and then there was the start of World War I, and the German Kaiser was also named Willy. In short, everything coincided).
Let’s start from the beginning. The Livonian “Confederation” was a rather quarrelsome and contentious community of “Lieutenant Schmidt’s boys,” whose members sometimes had a hard time seeing eye to eye with one another. So the need for a kind of “Varangian” mediator was bound to arise—not just sooner or later, but eventually become absolutely urgent. And so it came to pass—Emperor SRIGN (what a wonderful acronym!) Charles IV (of Luxembourg and publisher of the famous “Golden Bull”) granted the Archbishop of Riga the status of an imperial prince (it doesn’t matter here whether he granted it or merely reaffirmed a previous privilege issued to the first Bishop of Riga, Albert I, back in the shaggy 13th century). However, since the SRIGN and the emperor himself were located quite far from Livonia and Riga, at the request of Archbishop F. Fünfhausen, in order to safeguard this privilege from encroachments by (the very same Order that had long been setting its sights on Riga and the possessions of the Archbishop of Riga), protectors and executors of this privilege were appointed in the persons of the kings of Poland, Denmark, and Sweden (and, to top it all off, many other rulers of lower rank and lesser standing). Later, this privilege was renewed on numerous occasions (and eventually, the Grand Duke of Lithuania, Vytautas, also joined the ranks of the protectors and conservators). Therein lies the basis for a member of the Jagiellonian dynasty to intervene in Livonian affairs—and what a solid basis it is!
Now, let’s get down to business. At the end of the 15th century, the interests of the Jagiellonian dynasty and the Livonian “Confederation” (or rather, the Teutonic Order) converged on one issue—the Rusche Gefahr. Both sides viewed the Russian state as arguably their foremost adversary, and on this basis, their interests were bound to converge. And so it came to pass—not only did the Grand Duchy of Lithuania and the Order stand almost shoulder to shoulder against Moscow in the First Smolensk War, but they also began to fan the flames of what we would now call a “media” campaign against the “hereditary enemy of all Christendom”—this new Muscovite Turk—and at the same time demanded (and attempted, to the extent possible, to implement) large-scale sanctions to weaken this Muscovite Turk. It didn’t turn out very well—both Lithuania and the Order ultimately failed (though, it cost the Order relatively little, so that later Plettenberg, the Order’s last truly great Grand Master, became more than cautious and refused to get involved in a reckless venture against Moscow, no matter how much Kraków and Vilnius insisted on it). But in Moscow, one must assume, they took note for the future. In Vilnius, meanwhile, they became even more convinced that Russian expansion in the northwest (and I have already noted that its vector was shifting ever more clearly in precisely that direction) needed to be countered, and Livonia seemed like a good springboard for this, as well as a tool through which one could cause Moscow no small amount of trouble if the same sanctions were used wisely—after all, no one had abolished Moscow’s dependence on shipments of silver and non-ferrous metals from the West.
The next instance occurred in the 1620s. XVI, when Sigismund I recalled his right as protector and defender of the faith and sided with the Catholic Archbishop of Riga against the Protestants in Riga, who were supported by the Teutonic Order authorities. By the way. Riga served as a sort of trade gateway for the Grand Duchy of Lithuania, and control over this city was highly desirable for Vilnius, so Sigismund recalled his right at just the right time—precisely when the formation of the European world-economy, about which the late E. Wallerstein wrote, was in full swing.
The problem with the Protestants coincided (or did it not?) with the plan proposed to Sigismund by his newly acquired vassal, the Prussian Duke and former Landmaster of the Teutonic Order, Albrecht Hohenzollern, in that very same year of 1526. Admittedly, at first the idea of “incorporating” Livonia (in whole or in part—as circumstances permitted) did not find support with Sigismund, but it had been put out there and began to take on a life of its own.
There are also a number of other important factors noted by several researchers. These were linked to the specific nature of the relationship between Poland and the Grand Duchy of Lithuania. The Polish ruling elite sought to subjugate the Grand Duchy of Lithuania to its authority, reducing it not even to the status of a junior partner in the union, but to that of a vassal-subordinate. Naturally, the Lithuanian magnates were opposed to this, and even the last Jagiellonian kings were not particularly enthusiastic about these plans, since if they were carried out, they would lose room for maneuver and, to a significant extent, forfeit their political authority and influence. And so it turns out that the annexation (or the establishment of control to one degree or another) of Livonia was intended to strengthen Lithuania’s position in its confrontation with Poland and prevent the Poles from absorbing Lithuania.
So, the Jagiellonian dynasty had more than enough reasons to keep a close eye on Livonia and plan its “incorporation”—both for political (foreign and domestic) and economic reasons. That leaves Denmark and Sweden, but more on them next time. To be continued…
