Why Venice
Why Venice?
In her pioneering book entitled Political Economies of Empire, Maria Fusaro
postulated the bold, yet apt proposition that ‘it is time to start considering the
Venetian state in its entirety—terra and mar—blending together different historiographical strands and traditions, aiming at a holistic approach to the topic of statecraft and political economy’.
Fusaro’s call to scholarly arms holds great
merit, especially in relation to the study of early modern diplomacy and, by
extension, intelligence activities that linked inextricably Venice with early modern
Europe, the Near East, and Northern Africa. Such a link was the consequence of
the high level of bureaucratization and institutionalization—even in Weberian
terms, as we shall see in Chapter 3—that led to the ‘rise of information-fed
bureaucracies’ in the early modern era.
This information-fed bureaucratization
of Renaissance Venice spawned both its intelligence organization and the vast
paper trail that enabled the conception and materialization of this book.
Accordingly, the surviving documentation furnishes an abundance of information on the
intelligence organization of both the Venetian motherland and its periphery,
rendering Venice an appealing case study through which we can explore the
Dominante, its dominion, and the former’s diplomatic reach beyond the latter.
The relationship between Venice and its dominion in the Terraferma and the
Stato da Mar was quite diverse, with overarching similarities in the way territories
were governed but also important differences.
Venice was the ruling power,
responsible for the defence of its provinces and its subjects. As part of the
Venetian defence organization, members of the patriciate were sent to govern
territories of both the mainland and overseas Venetian holdings and were
expected to cooperate with local elites and institutions in order to fulfil their
duties.
In the Ionian Islands, in particular, local elites, whose grasp of the native
Greek language provided a considerable advantage, played the role of the intermediary between the motherland and the local populations.
These elites were,
thus, responsible for the overall governance of those territories and they reported
to the Senate and to the Heads of the Council of Ten, who, from the 1480s
onwards, increasingly assumed a growing influence over the affairs of Venice’s
maritime dominion.
Venice’s mainland and maritime possessions were governed in a rather ‘light
touch’ manner, through the appointment of Venetian officials occupying key posts in the Venetian cursus honorum. These included one or two civil governors
(called rettori or even podestà); a military governor (called capitano); and, more
often than not, one or two treasurers or financial administrators (camerlenghi).
As we shall see in the following pages, Venetian elites overseeing the Republic’s
territorial possessions were expected to perform a variety of public services, from
administering the recruitment of servicemen to orchestrating daring espionage
missions. Tenure was brief, usually two years in duration, a time period that was
deemed sufficient to establish one’s authority without being entrenched in local
affairs and interests to such a degree that could lead to corruption.
Yet such
temporal restrictions could not guarantee the elimination of debauchery, and
critics of the system voiced concerns that two years was not an adequate time
frame to enable a governor to gain a thorough understanding of local idiosyncrasies and needs.
While local legislation was respected and preserved, in a territorial state like Venice the administration of justice was left to the motherland as
‘the principal expression of the Dominante’s dominion’.
As a result, all judicial
appeals of the Stato da Mar were sent to Venice. This imperial-like organization of the colonies, alongside her economic and
political rise and fall on the international scene between the fifteenth and seventeenth centuries, induced Venice to create a vast and robust diplomatic network.
By the second half of the sixteenth century, Venice’s diplomatic structures had
assumed such gargantuan proportions that historians such as Stefano Andretta
referred to an ‘elephantiasis of its diplomatic apparatus’.
This exponential
growth in Venice’s diplomatic activities coincided with an era when her foreign
policy focused on the ‘outright defence of her domains’. This period culminated
in a thunderous confrontation with the Ottomans in 1571 that cost the Venetians
the island of Cyprus, a Venetian stronghold of immense economic and geopolitical significance in the Mediterranean, as we saw at the start of this Introduction.
It was during that period that the Republic’s intelligence pursuits, subtly but
steadily undergirding her diplomatic regime, intensified to such a degree that the authorities were willing to risk placing the most unexceptional men in the
most exceptional circumstances, in an effort to achieve the defence of the Republic
at any cost.
These unexceptional men were Venice’s amateur spies and informers. According to Tommaso Garzoni’s late sixteenth-century treatise on ‘all professions in the world’, spies in that period were ‘the sort of people that, in secret,
follow armies and enter cities, exploring the affairs of enemies, and reporting them
back to their own people’.
This definition differs from sociological conceptualizations of a professional service as the outcome of ‘cognitive specialization’, which is premised upon a common educational process, a shared professional
identity, and even an emerging professional ethos and philosophy.
In short,
contrary to established professions such as those of the chancery secretary or the
cryptologist, as we shall see in the following chapters, the métier of the spy had still
not transmogrified into a stand-alone valid profession in the early modern era.
Consequently, Renaissance Venice deployed spying rather than spies.
It is rather surprising that a territorial state like Venice that braved the creation
of a vast and systematic intelligence apparatus did not make provisions for the
professional development of specialist spies.
Epochal political events in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, namely four disastrous Ottoman-Venetian wars
between 1463 and 1573, rife with lacerating polemics and the devastating defeat of
the Venetians by the League of Cambrai at Agnadello in 1509, led to an aggressive
‘realpolitik policy of neutrality, a balancing act between the French, the Habsburgs, and most importantly, the Ottomans’.
As a result, Venice focused its
attentions on the art of defence, in order to preserve its gradually dwindling maritime possessions, resorting to military action only when necessary. For the
Venetian outposts in the eastern Mediterranean this entailed maintaining a robust
network of fortifications and garrisons to protect them.
In consequence, Venice’s
foreign policy became increasingly concerned with ‘disarming’ her enemies by
keeping up appearances, while maintaining secrecy and, eventually, even manipulating information. To maintain this stance of neutrality, sending bona fide spies to foreign territories, especially those of perennial enemies such as the Ottomans, could prove
provocative and, ultimately, counterproductive.
Sending amateur ones, in the hope
that they would pass unnoticed, was deemed more prudent. As will become
evident in Chapter 5, this is the strategy the Council of Ten employed. Accordingly, Venice’s defensive stance led to an increase in the number of amateur spies,
in addition to a proliferation of formal legates and their entourages sent overseas,
especially those dispatched to the Ottoman capital.
Venetian ambassadors and
governors were expected to collect and disseminate information as part of their
diplomatic repertoire, while the stealthy business of espionage was left to
unabashed dilettantes who were willing to risk their life for a moderate compensation.
Through their espionage activities, these individuals were granted a certain
degree of political agency and contributed to an emerging political culture of
information-gathering that still lurks in the margins of historical scholarship.
Overall, then, Venice furnishes a rich case study for the exploration and
analysis of intelligence organization in the long Renaissance. This is due to three
reasons.
Firstly, the vast paper trail stemming from the intense bureaucratization
process that the Venetian government underwent in that period has left a surplus
of extant documents that include the correspondence between the Ten, the State
Inquisitors, and their delegates; registers and notes of secret deliberations and
decrees stemming from them; Venetian citizens’ and subjects’ anonymous denunciations; and several other enciphered and deciphered documents pertaining to
Venice’s intelligence pursuits—a scholar’s feast, indeed.
Secondly, Venice’s territorial expansion as a vast maritime empire with diverse geopolitical, cultural,
linguistic, and even religious traits advanced the need for the systematization of
the Dominante’s central intelligence organization.
And thirdly, Venice’s stance of
defence and neutrality, as part of its broader foreign policy, produced a mixture
of professional informants and amateur spies whose feats and peccadilloes form
part of the wider social interactions between the government and the governed
that merit further scholarly exploration and analysis.
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