It’s November 5, which in England means it’s the anniversary of the Gunpowder Plot. In 1605, Guy Fawkes was arrested in the basement of the Parliament building with a bit of incriminating evidence: 36 barrels of gunpowder. The plot was to destroy the House of Lords while the Lords — including, in particular, King James — were in it. Fawkes is still the most remembered of the conspirators, but there were at least 11 others.
Blowing up Parliament seems like a pretty anarchic thing to do, but it was all about religion, not the kind of rebellions we’ve come to expect more recently (although on second thought…). The plotters were Catholics disappointed that King James hadn’t made England more hospitable to their faith — and to be fair, England at the time dealt fairly oppressively with Catholics. In the aftermath, as you might guess, the climate got a great deal more oppressive. The event was made an official holiday the very next year when the Observance of 5th November Act 1605 was passed, and special church (Church of England) services were held, church bells were rung, and bonfires lit. The tradition still continues; tonight is Bonfire Night (aka Fireworks Night and Guy Fawkes Night) in England. The official act, though, was repealed in 1859 along with some other state holidays that mandated state-oriented church services.
Bonfire Night was celebrated in North America, too, in the 13 original British Colonies. It was called Pope Night on this side of the Atlantic, and celebrations were a bit more, um, boisterous. There were bonfires, and they included burning the Pope in effigy, which doesn’t seem particularly fair since no Pope was ever involved in the Gunpowder Plot. In Boston, it was an evening of rioting and protest against anybody who was in charge by everybody who wasn’t. Gangs from the north side of the city would brawl with south-side gangs. Things got so bad that in 1775, George Washington ordered his troops not to participate. At that point, there being a war on and all, the celebrations died down, and the last Pope Night celebration in Boston was in 1776. A less violent version of the tradition was kept up in some New England towns, though — in Salem until 1817, and in New Hampshire, Pope Night was celebrated in Portsmouth until 1892.
November 5 calmed down for a little while after that, but then in 1916 it was the day of the Everett Massacre in Everett Washington. This time it wasn’t about religion, but about organized labor. There was a depression on (there have been more than 50 recessions and depressions in the history of the US; we are the worst at managing an economy), and workers, including shingle workers (a big industry in Everett at the time) were on strike. The International Workers of the World union showed up at the harbor in support of the strikers, and the local business owners recruited goon squads (the local police) to meet them on the dock. There was a shootout before the union members were even able to get off the ship — they later counted 175 bullet holes just in the pilot house. The captain survived; he hid behind the ship’s safe.
Nobody counted the total casualties, but some of the injuries among the goon squad on the dock were due to the guys in the front being shot in the back (accidentally, we presume) by those at the rear eager to get in on the battle. As seems to be almost traditional at this point, the union members were termed “anarchists” by some authorities. It’s a handy term, but if you’re in a labor union, which is an organized movement with leaders and lines of authority, that’s not even close to “anarchism.” But it’s a good pejorative name to yell at the people on the other side of an issue, and anyway most people don’t even know what it means.
“Anarchy” is often used to mean general disorganization, and on November 5, 2007, you could argue that described the state of the brand-new mobile operating system announced that day by Google: it was Android. Android had actually been started in 2003 by Android, Inc., a Silicon Valley startup. It was still in stealth mode by 2005, when Google bought the company as part of their effort to get into the mobile phone market. Their first prototypes looked like many of the other mobile phones at the time — smallish screen and a keyboard. Then the iPhone was unveiled. The Android team bought some, went back to the drawing board, and copied it.
Finally, on November 5, Android was officially unveiled as part of the announcement of the Open Handset Alliance, with 34 member companies. Their intention, they said, was to develop “the first truly open platform for mobile devices.” They didn’t say much about all the patents that Google and the other companies in the alliance had filed, which made it as “open” as a labor union is “anarchic.” But it’s a good term to yell at the tech folks on the other side of an issue, and anyway most people don’t even know what it means.
It took Android a few releases to get a bit less anarchic, but they kept improving it. Android isn’t a product of the Open Handset Alliance; it’s from Google. But if you’re a member company, you’ve signed a contract to use the version of Android the alliance chooses. It’s definitely not “anarchic” any more than it’s “open”. In fact, you have to wonder whether someday, way out in the future, people will light bonfires to commemorate the night a hacker conspiracy tried to topple the ruling mobile device hierarchy. That will have to happen at some point, though.
