For today's Central European, war is directly associated with images of horror. Memories of the Vietnam war or the civil war in the former Yugoslavia, to name but two events from recent history, are scattered with images of the injured and those trying to flee the fighting. The innocent civil population's suffering is an inevitable consequence of every modern anti-war campaign.

Thus sensitised, the modern-day observer stands aghast in the face of those images of plunder, murder and desolation, which are depicted in paintings created in Germany, Italy, and above all the Netherlands during the Thirty Years / Eighty Years War. With the exception of Goya's posthumously published series of etchings from 1863, the "Desastres de la Guerra", it wasn't until the twentieth century and its two world wars, that comparable images would again be produced. [1]

But was the aim of these images of violent clashes between soldiers and villagers in the early modern period actually to arouse the viewer's sympathy for the victims? Did people really sympathise with the suffering of others, at a time when misery was seen as the fault of being poor, cripples and those with birth deformities were seen as outsiders in society, and public executions could take on the character of a festival? Does not a post-enlightenment ethos distort the modern-day viewer's perception of these pictures?

It is the senselessness of this suffering which again and again moves us to speak of the "innocent civilian population" and which triggers the unspeakable feelings of horror experienced by those witnessing it. Until well into the 17 [th] century, the recognition of just how senseless such strokes of fate are was simply untenable in the Christian West: in a world in which everything is in the hand of God, even human suffering must have its place in the scheme of things. This contradiction, the question 'How can God allow this to happen?', which led repeatedly to doubts about the existence of God [2], was answered very succinctly by the churches of the seventeenth century: suffering was a test, or the atonement for sins; torture was justified as an aid to the misdirected soul on its path to eternal salvation, and death was seen as a release from the "earthly vale of tears" - whether in the ideas of martyrdom, apocalyptic visions or the teaching of predestination. [3]

The victims were from the ranks of the peasants and manual workers. The painters however came from the milieu of the bourgeoisie, as did the purchasers of the works. Due to both the duration and the particular character of the Dutch revolt and the Eighty Years War, it can be assumed that these people also had contact with the war, as well as direct experience of both its violence and consequences. Yet the misery of war is almost exclusively expressed in images which depict the lower social classes. [4] In this respect, pictures of war suffering resemble those of the other extreme - the effusive joy visible in the dissimilarly popular scenes of peasant feasts.

In recent years, images of peasants at feasts have been questioned with regard to their didactic function and social significance in an urban bourgeois elite. Didactically speaking, they are presented as people with negative virtues, as a warning against sensuous excesses and sinful behaviour, which in turn justify their existence in a society possessing strict morals. [5] On the other hand, through being presented as "the other people" [6], as members of the inferior sector of society, with their uncultivated and unvirtuous behaviour, they take on - viewed sociologically - a certain identity: both the artists and the audience project their undesirable modes of behaviour onto the figures of these peasants celebrating - in a way which is not dissimilar to modern strategies of prejudicial incitement - in order that they can assure themselves of their own social standing. [7] The spectrum ranges from coarsely scatological motifs to the varied suggestive expressions depicted in detail on the subjects' faces. [8]

While the bourgeoisie presents itself in poses which reflect their self-control, they themselves are also the ones who amass images of drunkenly celebrating villagers in sensuous abandon. [9]

But why is there such interest in scenes of plunder? What are the stories behind the cruel images of slaughtered men and women, sometimes in idyllic, sometimes in devastated village scenes? What is it that makes people feel that a pictorial treatment is appropriate to this theme?

Current research is mainly interested in images which can be linked to historical events, but this is only possible in a few instances. These will be briefly presented first. They do not however provide us with any explanation of the background to the remaining pictures, so this will be covered in the subsequent paragraphs.

It should be noted from the outset that the theme here concerns depictions of direct violence between people, i.e. between soldiers and civilians. Other images, mainly those concerned with the consequences of plunder - imprisoning, plundered goods [10] - form a different context. It should also be remembered that only a fraction of the pictures which were produced have been preserved. By the second half of the 17 [th] century, such depictions of violence were no longer of interest, and therefore in subsequent centuries nobody was particularly concerned that such pictures should be preserved. [11] The material in existence today is therefore the result of a random selection process, and the most any research can hope to achieve is to discover cautious, approximate answers to the questions raised above.

As already mentioned, present research is concerned primarily with those depictions of plunder and attacks whose historical backgrounds can be derived. In the following, this connection between the works and their historical background is illustrated by reference to the course of the Eighty Years War. [12]

In the year 1566, the Dutch nobility of the Eedverbonds presented the Spanish governess Margarete von Parma with a petition, in which they protested against Philipp II's efforts towards centralisation. These efforts were seen to typify the Spanish Crown's clear disregard for all the Dutch classes' attested rights which had been handed down to them. By rejecting a Spanish central government, the "Geusen" (beggars) - which is how they referred to themselves since hearing the word used mockingly against them, as the petition was being presented in Brussels - agreed with the Dutch Calvinists, who were being threatened with an aggressive counter-reformation in the form of the Inquisition. The two groups however had varying interests: the latter wanted to retain the traditional autonomy without rejecting the kingdom / monarchy; the former were for religious freedom, which was in irredeemable opposition to Philip II's anti-reformatory intentions. These differing goals and the resulting varying alliances were to cause continual unexpected turns during the break-out of the revolt in the latter part of the 1560s.

The disturbances were centred initially in the south. They were driven along by the nobility and the rich and self-confident trading cities. The Spanish crown's radical countermeasures intensified the conflict, above all the Duke Alba's reign of terror, which climaxed in the arrest and beheading of the Counts Egmont and Horne in June 1568, an event which is seen as finally triggering off the Eighty Years War, and, it could be said, creating at the same time the conditions which were later to lead to peace: fearing repressions, thousands fled, beginning in 1567, into the surrounding countries. The refugees' favoured destinations were the large cities of the Rhineland and the North Sea coast, England, and the northern provinces of the Netherlands. The only people remaining behind long-term were those who were prepared to try and cope with the new conditions and/or those who couldn't afford to escape.

This climate lends a certain explosiveness to the depictions of violent encounters between villagers and soldiers. Pieter Bruegel the elder's painting "Child Murder in Bethlehem" [13] is generally regarded as the archetypal depiction (Ill.). It was created in the early phase of the Eighty Years War and is often interpreted as a critical reflection of Duke Alba's reign of terror. This view is supported by noting the red garments or dragoon armour worn by the riders, identifying them as Spaniards - the leader, dressed in black armour is commonly identified as the Duke Alba himself - and the presence of a herald, recognisable as a servant of the House of Habsburg by the double eagle on its coat. [14] The latter is beset by imploring villagers, which parallels the political events very effectively: At the instigation of the estate in 1573, Philip II was forced to remove Alba from power, replacing him with the more moderate Don Louis Requesens y Zuñiga. Brueggel's painting was extremely successful; even today, 14 variations of "Child Murder in Bethlehem" can be ascribed to Pieter Brueghel the younger alone [15]. For this reason, it is difficult to imagine that this is a case of direct criticism of the King in Madrid. It is more likely that the real intention was to denounce Alba's abuse of power, in a similar way to William of Orange's sentbrief to Philip II in 1573, in which he attempts to make the King aware of how damaging Alba's arrogance is to Spain's reputation [16], by presenting an image of the presumptuousness of the tyrant Herod. In this way, "Child Murder in Bethlehem" can be viewed as a negative example in the context of the theme 'good and bad regiments'. The villagers appealing to the Habsburg herald are seen as a message to the Spanish King, that he should show himself to be a just ruler, and put an end to his subordinate's tyranny. The later versions by Pieter Brueghel the younger do not therefore simply have a memorial function but also serve to update the reminder of the reign of terror, in a now changed situation.

Towards the turn of the 17 century, the conflict developed from a revolt into a full war between the northern provinces and Spanish troops fighting from the territory of the southern provinces. Whereas the North experienced an unexpected economic upswing - not least due to the innovatory skills brought by refugees from the South - developing within a few decades into a world economic power, the South only succeeded in consolidating the prevailing conditions. The South enjoyed limited autonomy, as a result of the placing of the Archduke Albrecht of Austria and the Infanta Clara Eugenia as governors. They encouraged their subjects to wipe out the signs of the war years, resulting in a slight economic upturn. The former world economic centre of Antwerp continued to suffer as a result of the blockade of the Schelde, but the demand for art, luxury articles, and printed works stimulated the city to a new cultural revival. [17] The large rivers formed a natural border between those parts of the country which both parties sought to overcome, however, with no lasting success.

In 1609, the Archduke couple, on the side of the Spanish, together with the large trading cities of the North, succeeded in pushing through a cease-fire, which was to last 12 years, and which in reality amounted to a recognised division of the country. David Vinckboon, one of the Flemish circle of artists in Amsterdam, provided a commentary on this 'Treves' in a series of four engravings. The animosity between peasants and soldiers had by the end of the 16 century already provided material for lower class literature, anecdotes, songs and farces. Stereotypically, they told of how soldiers would help themselves to food and drink at the peasants' expense. Each side uses tricks and ruses to try and overwhelm the other, or to defend themselves against attacks, and it isn't always the peasant who is the fool at the end. [18] The dialogue-like narrative structure of these stories mirrors the reduced characters in the paintings, and the near-sighted depictions which concentrate on single scenes. Both show a tendency towards individualising the characters. In 1608, Vinckboon had already presented his view of the subject in the twin paintings "Boerenverdriet" / "Boerenvreughd" [19]: the extent to which the soldiers and their entourage squeezed the peasants dry was as boundless as the latter's revenge. Whereas in "Boerenverdriet", the artist denounces the soldiers' propensity for living in unreasonable luxury as regards clothing, food and drink, in "Boerenvreughd" the peasants - and above all their wives - mutate into ridiculous furies, and the soldiers run away as cowards. An end to the animosity is not in sight, and so both paintings appear as an expression of a cyclic presentation of this antagonism. [20]

The theme was only approached from a political angle when the publisher Boethius a Bolswerth brings out a series of engravings in 1610, comprising the two above-mentioned designs and two further of Vinckboon's images. The first plates merely offer variations of known constellations: soldiers attempting to enter a farmhouse, helping themselves to food and drink at the expense of the peasants, and are then being driven away by the peasants. The context and intention only become clear in the fourth plate (Ill.): While soldiers and peasants can be seen together in the foreground, drinking, dancing and playing cards, in the background there is a smithy, in which weapons and pieces of armour are being melted down - a reference to the biblical 'swords to ploughshares' (Jes. 2,4). Only the caption underneath the picture provides a reference to the 12 year cease-fire. It is still unclear today, what version Vinckboon or Bolswerth had in mind for this series of engravings. A lot depends on how much importance the viewer attaches to the implicitly negative moralising aspect of the festive scene in the last plate. Only if one is prepared to accept the conflict potential of dancing and card playing, as in the stereotype of the peasant feast [21], is it possible to interpret the foreground and background scenes as an antithetical juxtaposition, and to view the engravings as a warning against false carefreeness in the face of a not yet attained real peace [22].

Vinckboon was right to be critical, since neither side was able to devise a final peace accord. In 1621 Archduke Albrecht, governor of the southern Netherlands and one of the most important supporters of the peace moves, died intestate. The southern Netherlands fell back under rule by the Spanish crown, which itself also underwent a change in power. The young King Philipp IV appointed Gaspar de Guzman de Olivarez as his senior minister. The latter strove to revive Spain's former position in Europe as a major power, and was convinced of his ability to win a war against the northern provinces. Moritz von Oranien, the commander of the States General troops, succeeded for his part in undermining initial moves towards new peace talks, and when the Spanish troops in the Rhine trench threatened to burst through the Dutch defensive fortresses, the war was revived in full. In spite of great efforts on both sides, and despite the major battles, there were no decisive and lasting successes. The only consequence was that the southern states of the Netherlands were constantly devastated. In the 1630s the army of the States General under Friedrich Heinrich, the conqueror of the city, gained the upper hand and achieved significant territorial gains, despite efforts by Cardinal Infant Ferdinand, the victor of Nördlingen, who was appointed governor following the death of Infante Isabella Clara Eugenia.

At the start of the 1620s, Sebastiaen Vrancx produced several variations of a painting, which are identified today as depictions of the plundering of the village of Wommelgem near Antwerp by the troops of the States General on 26 May 1589 [23]. The trumpeter in the background signifies that this is no aimless plunder, but a punishment meted out on the village by the States General troops, with the approval of the military command. If one uses the dating suggested by Joost Vander Auwera, one comes to the conclusion that Vrancx, with the image of the end of the cease-fire in his mind, presents these pictures of a terrible event from the past war, as a warning to his fellow people. It is surprising that he uses the medium of painting to present his warning, and not a broadsheet. The value of the materials used and complex production technique employed lead one to the conclusion that he did not produce these paintings of his own initiation. It is, however not known who commissioned the work or who purchased it, and so it remains highly unlikely that the reasons for the choice of theme and medium will ever be known.

In other paintings, whenever Vrancx and his pupils depict soldiers attacking villages, there reigns unholy chaos. There is absolutely no sign of any military command as in Bruegel's "Child Murder in Bethlehem" or Vrancx "Plunder of Wommelgem". It can therefore be supposed that these marauders plunder under their own initiative. The peasants are helpless in the face of the soldiers' excesses. The soldiers' acts of cruelty are demonstrated in drastic terms, but the victims' suffering and the resistance they offer are absolutely unheroic. The question presents itself now, whether the concept here is similar to that of Jacques Callot's series of etchings 'Misères de la Guerre', produced in 1633 [24]: the depiction of attacks by marauding soldiers as examples of poor military leadership, and as a call to put together a just regiment, through the use of punishment and reward.

Peter Paul Rubens also refers directly to the current situation in Pompa Introitus Ferdinandi, occasioned when the Cardinal Infant Ferdinand came to power, and he too makes use of the military attack motif. In the Janus-Bogen he reduces the violent confrontation between soldiers and civilians to a single central scene [25]: to the left of the picture, a soldier is dragging a woman along by her hair. The child she carries in her arms appears about to fall to the ground and be trampled on by the soldier. This scene is intended to serve as the epitome of unbridled violence in war - the caption reads Saevitias belli (the cruelties of war) - and is the only possible contrasting motif to the Tranquilitas Securitas [26], which is personified on the opposite side of the sheet. By giving the soldier armour which imitates the classical style, Rubens lifts the scene out of the current war scenario, but the motif itself is familiar from earlier plunder scenes, then in contemporary garb [27]. The message is as clear as it is explicit: Rubens places the new governor in a decision-making situation, and he illustrates the possible consequences of this decision. At the same time, the artist takes the decision for him, by showing him his predecessor in office on the side of the military power, trying to close the Janus temple. This appeal was to have no effect, however, moving Rubens to continue developing his vision of the horrors of war, culminating in the splendid allegory in the Palazzo Pitti in Florence [28].

After France's declaration of war on Spain in 1635, the Flemish army was being challenged on a second front. The southern Netherlands were pincered in by two powerful armies. An alliance made in 1635 between the States General and France against Spain already contained plans to divide up the southern provinces, an idea which found sympathy among the nobility from the south. After the unexpected death of the Cardinal Infant in 1641, a Habsburg again came to Brussels in 1647, in the person of Archduke Leopold Wilhelm, who built up a court, and gave society new cultural impulses. French victories in southern Netherlands territory had a determining influence on military activities in the 1640s: the southern front shifted towards the north. Any territorial gains that Friedrich Heinrich could claim in the north, however, were marginal. Trade between the large cities was severely hindered through continual incursions by soldiers into Flemish territory. Moreover, Spain was not in a position to provide sufficient funds to finance the Flemish army. Despite the continual incursions, it became clear that the northern border along the great rivers was not in danger. The real threat was lurking in the south, where the powerful France was capturing one city after another.

In 1648, the peace treaty was signed in Münster, marking the end of the Eighty Years war. The signing of the contract is regarded as the birth of the independent Dutch republic, and was celebrated as such in the cities and towns of the Netherlands. Spectator stands were constructed in the southern provinces too, for the proclamation of peace, and celebrations were initiated which lasted for several days.

The peace treaty released the northern provinces into independence, which in reality consisted simply of establishing in writing what had long been the status quo. However it also gave the States General a firm foothold within Europe's diplomatic structure, bringing with it a voice in the international power scenario [29]. It also meant security and peace for the north - urgently needed for the consolidation both of their placing on the world political stage, and of the astounding economic growth which they experienced in the first half of the century. However the southern states were not represented in the peace negotiations. As a Spanish enclave in north western Europe, their interests were subject to the military strategic and power-political considerations of the king and his advisers in Madrid. And since neither Spain nor France were not prepared to consider peace, the war was set to continue on south Netherlands territory.

In 1648, David Teniers the younger created a pair of paintings "Peasant Wedding" and "Soldiers attack a village" (Ill.) [30], which deserve special attention in this context. The juxtaposition of these two extremely contrasting themes - unlike Vinckboon, Teniers combines the attack with a pure peasant feast with no soldier figures - was brought into association with the peace treaty by Margret Klinge, based on the date of their creation: Teniers contrasts the picture of death with that of the peasant feast - a picture of life. Accordingly, the picture pair is an expression of joy over the peace accord of Münster [31].

Both paintings belong formally to the artist's compositional experiments. They are the only examples in Tenier's work of monumental knee-figures, depicted in close proximity to the viewer. Whereas in his other paintings he tends to build a distance between his figures and the viewer, these pieces both have a strong appellative character.

In the foreground of the "Attack" a soldier is threatening an elderly couple with a loaded pistol, behind whom a crying youth can be seen cowering. In the middle ground, bodies of dead men are lying on the ground, and towards the back soldiers are forcing entrance into a house using a ram. The groups of soldiers standing close together observing the scene are an indication that this is no simple act of plunder. It is also significant that it is only young men who are being killed. Women and old men, normally the preferred victims in the plunder scenes so far considered, are lamenting the death of the men who would otherwise be fit to defend their village. This is reminiscent of a meting out of punishment, comparable with Brueggel's "Child Murder in Bethlehem". The two old people are therefore not begging that their own lives, but that of the young man be spared, who is hiding behind them. They are still hopeful: the old man has raised his folded hands beseechingly and lowered his head humbly; his wife is holding out a pouch of money towards them. Whether their begging has any effect or whether the young man must share the fate of his murdered compatriots remains open.

With this emotionally charged scene Teniers is treading on little-known terrain. Extremes are not his forté, and this is most likely why the expressions on the faces of the soldiers and the begging young man are not quite convincing. The soldiers' expressions are stereotyped - the conventional features of a choleric [32], and the emotions of the young man can only be derived from the narrative context. Even the two old people remain unusually neutral; the same characters appear in the painting "The Misers" [33], also from 1648, with exactly the same facial expressions. Teniers leans heavily on the masters of the Rubens school, but fails to achieve their narrative or emotional density. This may explain why the "Attack" remains the only painting of this type in the artist's oeuvre.

In the "Peasant Feast" Teniers goes back to a theme which was at its most popular in the second half of the 16 century: the escorting of the bride and groom into the nuptial chamber. The order of the figures in the foreground can be traced directly to an engraving by Pieter Baltens, whose caption is a reference to the satirical context of the theme [34]: the bride, in tears through fear of the great unknown that is waiting for her on her wedding night, is assured that she will like the 'struggle' of marriage and that she will be happier than she ever was before. However, Teniers deviates in one important detail from the original: traditionally, a Flemish bride wears her hair open on her wedding day as a sign of her virginity, a custom which Teniers otherwise followed without exception. But her distressed expression and her demure posture don't fool us: this is a fallen woman who is marrying. The painter gives the groom the posture and physiognomy of a drunken ne'er-do-well. Here too, he goes beyond the extent to which he normally gives a figure a negative characterisation. Almost hidden in the shadow of the house is the third figure in the foreground group, the old bagpipe player. An instrument which was easy to learn, the bagpipes were always seen as a typical peasant instrument. The artist had, since his early years, always used the instrument's form as a sexual reference. As if to emphasise this, Teniers chose a satyr's head as the decoration for the shawm, which could also easily be interpreted as a grotesque devil's face. The three foreground figures together can be seen as a personification of base instincts or primitive urges.

This finding clearly contradicts Kling's interpretation, since this negatively charged painting is hardly suited as a picture of peace. It will have been no coincidence that Teniers chose the plunder of 1648 as his theme, and he presumably was referring to the peace of Münster - even if it wasn't in his otherwise usual style.

Since the 1560s, plunder scenes were not only depicted in a historical context, but also in another frame of reference. Unlike the images considered so far, this previously little considered stream originated in print graphics.

In a series of engravings from 1570/72 [35], a theme is developed following the series "The Consequences of Wealth": Plate 1 depicts the female personification of the Netherlands - from here on simply referred to as Belgica - basking in her wealth in the middle of her working children, represented by wall copings as personifications of the cities; in Plate 2 she has been given the attributes of arrogance, her children are arguing about books - religion, according to the caption. Duke Alba's reign of terror appears in Plate 3, the consequence of arrogance and quarrel: the naked Belgica is kicked, her children put cruelly to death. Plate 4 shows Belgica humbled in prayer. She is crowned by the heavens, while the tyrant plunges into purgatory (Ill.). Alba's regiment of terror is presented here as a divine court of law, and suffering interpreted as a just punishment for former arrogance. There is clearly a historical reference here, but the juxtaposition of arrogance with punishment, and humility with deliverance lends an interpretation beyond daily events. The viewer is given a possible explanation for the atrocities of the preceding years.

This motif was further developed in subsequent years, concentrating more and more on the contrast between punishment and humility. Numerous images are created in which Belgica, equipped with the attributes of Patientia is placed in the middle of a plunder scene, or faces direct attacks by marauding soldiers [36]. Both in the "Patientia" engraving by Gillis van Mostaerts (1585) and in Gerard de Jode's engraving "TYPUS BELGICAE CALAMITATIS EXACTISSIMVS" (1587) she finds in her Christian belief some comfort from the brutal background events [37]. It is not certain when this interpretation of the theme first entered the realm of painting, but it must have been in the first quarter of the 17 century at the latest.

In Sebastiaen Vrancx' 'Plunder Of Wommelgem', for instance, a woman can be seen in the left middle ground, sitting alone on the ground, wringing her hands and gazing towards heaven. Isolated from the rest of the painting, she is reminiscent of the Patientia figures in early printing graphics. This is how Vrancx subtly adds a further aspect to the message already hinted at: a warning against the arrogance of those who believe in their own vanquishing ability.

A further sign can be found in the allegory of the face and the smell [38], created in 1617 / 18 in co-operation by Jan Brueghels the elder and Hendrik van Balen. There sits the personification of the sense of smell at a table covered with delicacies, and looks dreamily at her face in a mirror, a traditional Superbia motif [39]. Behind her, both artists show, next to each other, a depiction of the birth of Christ, a plunder scene, which leans heavily on such scenes by Sebastiaen Vrancx, and a landscape with hermits, as part of a Bilderwand full of references. The fact that here too arrogance, punishment, repentance and a reference to salvation through Christ (who is visible in the centre of the painting) are all in close proximity to each other leads us to believe that plunder scenes still potentially incorporate the idea of a divine court.

Another painting, this time undated, presumably after Vrancx' and Brueghels' images, but still from the first half of the century, is one by Daniel van Heil [40]. Again he leans heavily on the Patientia depictions of the 16 century, by placing the personification in the foreground and naming the painting by an inscription within the picture itself. A slaughtered lamb, her attribute, lies at her feet, on the right can be seen the naked bodies of murdered children - the motif of child murder again makes itself visible. Whereas the villagers beg their tormentors for mercy with their hands raised in the air, Patientia has fixed her gaze at the crucifix in her hand. The villagers' suffering is understand as a test, comparable with the suffering of Christ on the cross. The angel swooping down from heaven to crown Patientia is a direct reference to the heavenly deliverance from mortal suffering.

The paintings influenced by Teniers take on a new significance when viewed against the background of this motif tradition: The obviously sinful behaviour of the figures in the peasant feast is followed by punishment in the form of plunder. Church towers, stretching into the sky in both paintings, are a reference to the salvation to be found in faith. The two old people are still trying to pacify the terrible soldiers with their money and good words, but only Christian humility can bring real salvation. In the year of the Münster peace, Teniers shows a village, whose young men have been slaughtered. One last one fears for his life. For all its artistic weakness: in view of the ongoing state of war with France, the call for peace could not be any clearer.

It becomes apparent that plunder scenes during the Eighty Years War can be more than simple indications or reflections of historical events. They can at the same time transport an allegorical interpretation pattern which is fundamentally different from our modern-day perception of such depictions: The horrors of war and the suffering caused by marauding soldiers is interpreted as divine punishment for arrogance; only penitence and a change in our ways can bring about an end to suffering. [41]

The spectrum of interpretation regarding images of plunder is presumably not exhausted by this; other contexts are conceivable - a satirical treatment of the subject has already been mentioned and a further example would be the humanistic-literary tradition of calls for peace. The question of which context an individual text is located in can not be universally answered - each individual depiction must be studied individually. [42]

FOOTNOTES