Philip II

The question arises: was this Catholic ruler somewhat insane? His son, Don Carlos, was undoubtedly so; as was his grandmother, Joanna, who was already labeled with the nickname "The Mad." In Philip, the specifically Habsburg psychosis took on a fully developed form.

His life was ruled by a single obsession: to perfectly restore the universal Roman Church and to extend the power of Spanish absolutism to the ends of the earth. He dedicated every hour of his more than forty-year reign to this vision, sacrificing everything: ships and gold, land and people, Spanish soldiers' blood and the heretical fat of the Netherlands. He sacrificed the peace of his neighbors, the welfare of his subjects, and at the end of his reign, he saw that he had not come any closer to his one goal.

Everyone hated him. Destitute, powerless, suffering from gout, he stood while the sun, which never set on his empire, saw decline and hardship on Spanish soil. In Philip's figure, not only the Habsburg essence but also the Spanish essence reached one of its strongest and most absurd summaries. The Spanish hidalgo was pious: Philip was fanatic, relentless, and brutal, stepping over corpses, considering himself a superior being, and believing himself to be God; the hidalgo was exclusive: Philip was unreachable, almost never seen. Only the highest nobles had access to him, and even then, they could only approach on their knees, receiving his commands in half sentences, the meanings of which had to be deciphered. No one could ride the horse he once rode, nor marry the woman he had slept with: in the eyes of the people, he was indeed a sacred figure, something of a priest-king.

His life unfolded in the most comfortless monotony: he always ate the same foods at the exact same times, always wore the same black clothing, even his decorations were black. Day by day, he rode or drove to the unattractive outskirts of his castle, and in his later years, he left his room only to attend mass. In all his demeanor, he embodied the Spanish ideal of sosiego, a rigid and impenetrable calm, and external relaxation that revealed no inner stirrings. He was neither intrusive toward anyone nor close to anyone, never unfriendly, but neither human; his own was the cold, distant tact that was more humiliating and insulting than the most brutal arrogance. It is said that he only laughed once in his entire life: when he heard news of the St. Bartholomew's Day massacre.

One characteristic set him apart from the typical Spanish model: he was incredibly diligent. From morning to night, he bent over state documents, handling everything personally, in writing, and carefully considered everything. There was nothing creative in his work; it was the relentless diligence of a chancellor. His actions were fueled by global ambitions, but he sought to implement them through cumbersome, detail-obsessed bureaucracy. His entire system was marked by stubborn, slimy, snail-like sluggishness (mañana — "tomorrow!"). This also rooted his great suspicion. He trusted no servant fully, always trying to play one against the other. He was disturbed if someone achieved great military or diplomatic success, if anyone became popular, or if he encountered any remarkable abilities in anyone. His ingratitude, which became second nature to him as a Habsburg, was also part of this. His most illustrious victims: Egmont, whom he flattered after his victories, although his death was long ago decided, and Don Juan of Austria, the victor at Lepanto, who mysteriously died after his triumph over the Turks. Through this persecution mania and petty guardianship, Philip was able to turn proud Spaniards into a nation of lackeys, spies, and vagabonds. The most striking symbol of his essence was El Escorial: gray, cold, monotonous, joyless, inaccessible, more of a monastery and crypt than a palace or residence.

Feeling death approaching, Philip had a skull brought to him, and he wore a golden crown on the skull, staring at it blankly when he died. This striking final act somehow became a splendid symbolic expression of the powerful yet meaningless life of a ruler. Philip's destructive influence was evident everywhere: the country was burdened with state despotism and ecclesiastical inquisition, censorship was stricter here than anywhere, foreign ideas were blocked from spreading, minorities were brutally suppressed, Castilianization was forced, and Portugal was consumed and destroyed. The Moors were driven to flight, and in colonial politics, he acted even more recklessly. The beginning of his downfall can be traced to the Dutch Revolt.

Egon Friedell "Az újkori kultúra története III." Holnap Kiadó, Budapest, 1989