Precarious Neutrality in World War I
That the Netherlands was able to stay out of World War I was little less than a miracle, beset as it was by so many dangers and difficulties. A small country and militarily weak, it nevertheless possessed important colonial territories in both Asia and America. The livelihood of many of its people was gained from the operation of a merchant fleet which was one of the largest in the world. A large transit traffic, especially with the German industrial hinterland, was of great importance in the economic life of the country. Geographically the country was precariously situated. Its eastern and southern borders were of a character to invite aggression in case of hostilities between its neighbors. A tongue of Dutch territory jutted downward between Germany and Belgium, extending half the distance to the Luxembourg border. A narrow strip of territory south of the Scheldt gave the Netherlands control over a river which is essentially Belgian and on which is situated the great ocean port of Antwerp. In the Rhine, Holland controlled the mouth of another international river— one of the utmost importance to one of the major belligerents. Still another international river, which emptied into the seas from Dutch territory, was the Meuse. After the occupation of Belgium the Netherlands had to guard its entire land frontier against belligerent violation. Across a comparatively narrow sea lay another belligerent, England, whose fleet dominated the seas.
Relations with Belgium
The relations between the Netherlands and Belgium after the separation in 1839 were much better than might have been expected. Both peoples realized that a separate existence and development was the best for each, consequently the separation left no brooding hostility on either side. But neither did the relations between the two peoples develop any warmth, at least not until after 1936 when Belgium moved out of the French orbit in foreign politics and adopted the Dutch policy of neutrality and independent action. For a decade after World War I relations between the two countries were strained, for reasons that will appear later.
The Provincial Centre at Camulodunum: Towards an Historical Context
Present assessment of the provincial enclosure at Camulodunum, more particularly how far it can be compared to the standard picture of similar centres elsewhere, is inevitably constrained by the limited evidence at our disposal. With no numismatic sources to draw on and in the absence of a single record of the provincial priesthood — a striking void that calls for comment — documentary testimony is restricted to what can be made of two passages in the literary authorities. The first, a notorious sneer in Seneca's Apocolocyntosis (VIII.3), tells only that a temple of some sort was associated somehow with the emperor Claudius. The second text, an obscure allusion in Tacitus, is at first sight no more enlightening but, on closer analysis, the phrase templum Divo Claudio constitutum (Ann. xiv.31) yields the invaluable inference that the temple was to the deified, not the living Claudius; in which case construction must have been begun in a.d. 54 or later. Archaeological data throw no light on the origins of the temple or of the precinct in which it stood but exploration has steadily enlarged our knowledge of the site itself, and understanding of the remains has now reached the stage at which, for all its puzzling lacunae, the centre is as well known in some ways as the triple-tiered complex at Tarraco, the provincial enclave of Hispania Citerior. We have arrived at the point where the British sanctuary and its counterparts on the Continent can be mutually illuminating.