Having just finished studying the Great Schism, I thought perhaps that I would share some thoughts with you. For those not previously acquainted with this event, the Great Schism, in its crudest explanation, consisted of a historical religious dynamic which resulted at one point in the existence of three popes and accordingly the splintering of papal authority.

In 1378, Pope Gregory XI died and Pope Urban VI was elected. Pope Gregory XI had moved the papacy back to Rome from Avignon where it had been established from 1309-1377. Many of the cardinals wished for it to be moved back to Avignon, and in September of 1378 thirteen cardinals elected their own Pope Clement VII who was a cousin of the French king and who reestablished his papacy in Avignon. Papal allegiance split along national lines. Neither of the popes was willing to concede his position, either in favour of the other or a new pope entirely. In 1409, cardinals who represented both of the popes met at the Council of Pisa and elected an entirely new pope, Alexander V. Neither of the other two popes accepted this decision and until 1417 there were three popes in Western Europe.

While the Great Schism represents a time when the internal power struggle within the church was perhaps most manifest, the sentiments and issues which surrounded it were certainly not unique. Historically, there had been additional external conflict between the pope and various kings over numerous issues of authority and subordination. Reviewing this event, I could not help but question the nature of authority. In particular, whence is it derived? Certainly, there are myriad answers to such a question and no singular explanation can be given. It may not be difficult to accept authority, whether because it declares itself and is subsequently imposed or because one has voluntarily come to the conclusion that a source is authoritative. Yet what occurs when, as in the Great Schism, multiple authorities assert themselves in an equal yet conflicting manner? In such situations, to what degree do we decide for ourselves who, if any, we will believe and to what degree do we merely follow popular sentiment in our particular geographical or social realm?

The more ancient a historical event is, the more incredible it seems that it has been preserved in such detail and that we are able to study it today. Yet such a discussion begs questions as to who or what has fallen through the historical cracks. Is it only important individuals and their actions who are remembered, or does historical memory allow room for the hidden masses? Such questions are further complicated by the great man theory of history which sees in the past primarily, or even exclusively, the decisive influences of particular leaders. If this is true, is it nonetheless important to remember those who were voiceless?

I think that this relates nicely to the themes discussed in my last post of analytical versus imaginative history. Powerful individuals and organizations of the past have left us the luxury of concrete evidence. While this certainly has the potential to be problematic, it can also provide definitive answer. It is for the rest of society, those who left no record of their own but who experienced the very events and decisions which capture our interest, that we must employ our imaginative faculties. Though such speculation may never be confirmed, I feel that this will allow for a greater understanding of the past, and perhaps be an initial step in developing a sense of historical empathy.

Sincerely, Abigail Quinnley