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Max's election maps and assorted others

Oslo, parish history
  • Once again I've been waylaid by something that just kind of happened to be there.

    Medieval Oslo had multiple churches, of which St. Hallvard's Cathedral was the most prominent, but after it burned down in 1624 (the city, that is - the cathedral was actually one of the few buildings to survive the fire), King Christian IV ordered it moved to a new location west of where it had been and modestly renamed it Christiania. The new city had a modern, right-angled street grid, a large military fortress at Akershus that doubled as the seat of government (kind of a kremlin, when you think about it), and a single large church at its single town square, which was named "Vor Frelser" ("Our Saviour" in Danish) as a reminder not to try any of that Papist nonsense around here.

    Christiania remained a small city for the next two hundred years, populated largely by royal officials and their families, and so Vor Frelser was enough to fulfil the spiritual needs of the townspeople until 1858, when the city's land area was extended and it was determined that a second church was needed. Again, a suitably un-popish name was chosen for it, this time "Trefoldighed" ("Trinity"), and the city was split down the middle along Kongens gate, with Trefoldighed handling the west and Vor Frelser (which remained the seat of the Bishop of Oslo) the east. Trefoldighed took in some of the newly-annexed lands to the west, but in the north and east, a large area remained under Aker parish (the rural parish that surrounded Christiania) until arrangements could be made in 1861. The 1858 expansion had actually placed the old Aker church (Oslo's oldest building, dating back to the 12th century) within the city limits, and so the northern outskirts of the city were formed into the parish of "Gamle Aker" ("Old Aker") with the old church as its parish church. The eastern areas became the Grønland parish, simply named for the area the church was in, while the rural parish was split into a western and an eastern part, with each getting its own church.

    oslo-menigheter-1861.png

    By this time, Christiania was becoming Norway's industrial capital as well as its administrative one, and its population very soon outstripped what these four parishes could handle. In 1874, every parish except Grønland was split in half, with the eastern part of Gamle Aker forming Paulus parish, the north of Vor Frelser becoming Jakob, and the south-east of Trefoldighed becoming Johannes. Apparently naming churches after the apostles was fine in a Protestant country now. O tempora, o mores.

    In 1878, there followed a second expansion of the city limits, necessary because it was running out of land to build new housing on. Three new parishes were formed out of these annexed areas: Uranienborg in the west, Kampen in the east and Petrus in the northeast (making a nice companion to Paulus). Around the same time, both Gamle Aker and Grønland were split, with Grønland's southern part forming the new parish of Oslo (named after the medieval town once located on its territory) while the north of Gamle Aker combined with some of the newly-annexed land to form the parish of Sagene. Aside from Petrus, all of these were simply named after the geographic areas they covered, and this would continue to be the dominant pattern going forward.

    oslo-menigheter-1880.png

    In less than a decade, Christiania (now often spelled Kristiania, in a slightly "Norwegianised" form) had gone from four to twelve parishes. However, its population kept growing, and now it was the west that needed attention. Uranienborg, Gamle Aker and Trefoldighed were all quite large compared to their eastern neighbours, and while the west was also less densely populated (due to being much, much wealthier), the large parishes were still presenting administrative issues. In 1897, Trefoldighed parish lost territory on almost all sides, and Uranienborg was split in three, with the northern areas becoming Fagerborg parish and the south becoming Frogner. Two years later, Oslo and Kampen gave up territory to the new parish of Vaalerengen, which covered a working-class neighbourhood that had been unacceptably far from either church.

    oslo-menigheter-1899.png

    This was the state of things when Norway became an independent state in 1905, and continued unchanged until 1916, when they decided to do some weird shit. A total of six new parishes were created, mainly in working-class areas, and while a couple of them made sense (splitting Sagene was probably inevitable, since its church was west of the river while most of the population was east of it), some of the others were just a few blocks each, and it honestly surprises me that people ever thought they'd be viable.

    oslo-menigheter-1916.png

    1916, then, represents the peak concentration of parishes in the city, and from here on, at least for the city centre, parishes are going to get merged rather than split. The only 1916 creations with any real future were Markus, which was later expanded to cover all of Gamle Aker west of Ullevålsveien, and Torshov, which was far from the smallest parish in the city to begin with. By 1938, all four of the others had been suppressed, although some carried on as subunits of their new-old parishes. Johannes was also suppressed in 1926, and in 1938 the Akershus garrison church also lost its parish status, with the result that Vår Frelser (now respelled to fit the modern Bokmål standard) now covered the bulk of the city centre. And of course, in 1925, the city was renamed, taking back its pre-Danish name Oslo. To avoid confusion, the Oslo parish was rechristened "Gamlebyen" ("Old Town") at the same time.

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    Finland 1880 (languages)
  • As I'm sure you know, one of the long-term projects I'm working on at the moment is a TL where the separation of Finland from Sweden in 1809 doesn't happen (link in signature, or also here if you're on mobile). I've been doing some historical research to determine what the situation was east of the sea before the split, as it will help me figure out where it goes from there (i.e. how bad is the Ireland comparison exactly), and one of the things that led me to was the fact that the first modern Finnish census to count native languages was that of 1880, which placed the proportion of Swedish-speakers at 14.3%. This most likely represented a slight dip from the peak during the 18th century, but most of that was due to the Finns having a higher rate of population growth rather than an actual decline in the Swedish population. In absolute numbers, the population of Swedish-speakers in 1880 was 294,876, which is almost the same as today (287,933), and slightly below the mid-20th-century peak of around 350,000. Of course, the Finnish-speaking population has since grown from 1.7 million in 1880 to just under five million today, and this explains why the proportion of Swedish-speakers has now shrunk to around 5%.

    I was in fact able to find the 1880 census reports on Doria, the Finnish government's document database, and that has in turn allowed me to make a map of Finland by language spoken as of the first reliable data on the topic. The result is, well, a bit dull actually. You might expect that a Swedish population that's almost three times the percentage that it is now would be more geographically spread out than it is now, but this wasn't really the case. Some Swedish-speaking areas were Fennicised during the early modern period, notably the coast around Fredrikshamn, the northwest corner of Satakunta and some of the countryside around Åbo, but after that there was very little population movement. This was actually encouraged by the Church, which resisted efforts by the 18th-century Swedish state to spread the Swedish language because rural priests didn't want to have to deal with bilingual congregations, and the result of this is evident in Ostrobothnia in particular. Vasa and Karleby had small Finnish minorities in 1880, and Uleåborg and Brahestad had very small surviving Swedish elite groups, but other than them, every single parish in the entire region was more than 90% one language or the other. Nyland was a bit more diverse, with several mixed parishes along the language border. Some of these remain bilingual today, like Sjundeå/Siuntio and Kyrkslätt/Kirkkonummi, but the majority are now entirely or almost entirely Finnish-speaking. This includes most of the Helsinki region, but also areas like Lohja/Lojo and Pyhtää/Pyttis, where little trace remains of their Swedish heritage today.

    The main difference between 1880 and today, generally speaking, is that urban areas were much more Swedish then than they are now. Helsinki had a small Swedish majority in 1880, Vasa (then called Nikolaistad) had a compact one, and even Åbo still had a strong Swedish minority. Most other cities in Finland had some Swedish presence, notably Viborg/Viipuri with around 20% and Björneborg/Pori with around 14%, but even a place like Tammerfors/Tampere with its 6% Swedish population held on to its bilingual street signs until the 1920s and still has a Swedish school. These "language islands" (språköar) are, of course, the product of the traditional Swedish-speaking administrative and commercial elite, and tended to be very culturally distinct from the rural Swedish communities which often had more in common with their Finnish-speaking neighbours - even given the Republika Srpska-like isogloss in Ostrobothnia.

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    Melbourne tram history
  • melbourne-tram-history.png

    Here's a quick thing I mostly did for my own reference: the tram lines in Melbourne coloured by date of opening. As the key on the map says, this refers to the first time a tram line opened over a given alignment - a lot of them were originally built as either horse or cable tramways and have since been reconstructed, while others have replaced older alignments over similar routes (the Queens Way and Melbourne Park alignments, for example) which aren't shown here.
     
    Los Angeles Railway, 1949
  • Uploading a version without the background directly onto here, just so it won't confuse future readers. Also featuring car barns - and no, you're not mistaken, there was no Division 2. Or to be more precise, Division 2, which was at 54th and San Pedro, closed in 1932, partly because there was redundant capacity in the other divisions and partly because it was in a really stupid location, with only one line (the S car) directly connected to it and long transits required to get to any other line.

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    Lithuania 1920
  • Speaking of the Baltics, I finally found something I've spent a long time looking for. Unfortunately it's not as detailed as what I have for Estonia and Latvia, but some enterprising Wikipedian has in fact dug up a statistical yearbook that has all the Lithuanian election results up to 1926 (i.e. all the ones that mattered) broken down to apskritis ("county") level.

    Lithuania is quite different from the other Baltic states, and was even more so in the 1920s. Whereas Estonia and Latvia still carried the legacy of the Livonian Order, being largely Protestant countries dominated by a Baltic German landowning class, Lithuania had been in personal union with Poland until the partitions, and as a result was overwhelmingly Roman Catholic and had a native (albeit heavily Polonised) nobility that owned most of the land. It also had a very large Jewish minority, which Latvia did as well to an extent, and a long and complicated history with Prussia meant there was some German influence as well, just not as heavy as it was in Estonia and Latvia.

    Also, while Russia was generally content to let the Baltic Germans run free in Estonia and Latvia, Lithuania was subjected to some quite harsh Russification policies, including heavy restrictions on the Catholic Church and an outright ban on Lithuanian books written in the Latin script. These policies were intended to separate Lithuania from ever-rebellious Poland and tie it more closely to Russia, and Lithuanians very much saw them for what they were - Catholic priests and patriotic locals organised book smuggling rings which had books printed in East Prussia and taken across the border covertly, and were so successful that Lithuania got one of the highest literacy rates in the Russian Empire. In one sense, however, the printing ban was a success for Russia - the resistance to it did promote a sense of separate Lithuanian nationhood, and after 1905 the prevailing opinion even among the landowning class and the Catholic hierarchy was that Lithuania ought to be an independent state rather than part of a restored Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth.

    The views of these groups were most closely represented by the Lithuanian Christian Democratic Party, which had been founded in 1890 to safeguard the Catholic Church but became more and more openly nationalist after the 1905 Revolution. The LKDP was very similar in orientation to the Polish Endecja movement, supporting political Catholicism and a radical nationalism that tended to be directed against ethnic minorities within the country as much as outside forces. In the Lithuanian case, this especially meant Poles and Jews, both of which made up large parts of the population. When Lithuania became independent, the Catholic-nationalist movement established a number of side organisations, most prominent of which was the Federation of Labour, which was a network of Catholic trade unions not unlike what existed in Germany at the same time. This helped draw urban workers into the fold of the movement, and a Farmers' Association was set up to do the same for small farmers. The latter was even more closely tied to the LKDP, however, and the results I've found show them running a separate list only in the Kaunas and Raseiniai constituencies, winning seats only in the former. I noticed while writing this that parts of Wikipedia show them winning a total of 18 seats in this election, but I haven't found any information about where those were, so I've left the map as-is.

    Very much like Poland, again, the opposition to the LKDP and its allies was heavily divided. The Lithuanian Peasants' Union was closer to the PSL in ideology than it was to the farmers' parties in Estonia and Latvia, being generally centre-left and drawing support mostly from small farmers and landless farmworkers. The Social Democratic Party had been a key part of the national revival, but found its electoral reach quite limited - especially compaed to its sister parties in the other Baltic states. There was also the Socialist People's Democratic Party, which was a more conservative social democratic group that had been founded out of the former Lithuanian Democratic Party (which was also the originator of the Peasants' Union). Finally, of course, the ethnic minorities had their own organisations - the most prominent of these was the Jewish Democratic Union (also called the Jewish National Union in some sources), founded for the 1920 election as an electoral alliance between the main Jewish groups operating in Lithuania.

    The 1920 Constituent Assembly elections were the first democratic elections ever held in Lithuania, and were organised by the provisional government that had been formed under German occupation during World War I. The Assembly was intended to have 150 deputies elected from ten constituencies, but only six constituencies were actually able to hold elections. The remaining four - based in Vilnius, Lida, Grodno and Bialystok - were under the control of Józef Pilsudski's Polish army, which intended to restore the Commonwealth and rejected Lithuanian claims even to its historic capital as a result. Of course, Vilnius was overwhelmingly not ethnically Lithuanian (according to the 1897 census, its population was about equal parts Poles and Jews with Russians in third place and Lithuanians forming about 2-3% of the population), so we end up in the awkward position where the ethnic-nationalist Lithuanian government claimed it as a result of historic and cultural ties while the more pluralistic and expansionist Polish state cited its ethnic composition as a reason not to cede it. Poland would end up forming a "Republic of Central Lithuania" encompassing the city and its surroundings in late 1920, holding a pretty questionable election there in January 1922 and then annexing it into Poland directly.

    The Constituent Assembly convened at the city theatre in Kaunas, the "temporary capital" designated in Vilnius' absence, in May 1920, and of the 112 deputies who were actually able to take their seats, 58 were affiliated with the Catholic movement - 10 with the Federation of Labour, either 3 or 18 with the Farmers' Association, and the remainder with the LKDP. This was enough to form a majority government, but the LKDP leadership still decided it was best to form a grand coalition, and invited LVS leader Kazys Grinius to form a government. LKDP stalwart Aleksandras Stulginskis was elected to chair the Assembly, however, which made him the de facto head of state until a constitution could be written.

    val-lit-1920.png
     
    Riga 1920 (rough map)
  • I'm working on mapping the 1920 Constituent Assembly election, and while the pre-reform Latvian orthography means it's somewhat slow going, I am most likely going to be able to do it. The report includes results by polling station for Riga, which unfortunately don't map to any known administrative divisions, but since the report does list the addresses of the polling stations themselves, we can draw up a rough map of the results nonetheless.

    Riga's political geography in this era sort of reminds me of Budapest - well, specifically the Pest half, there's not really much of a Buda equivalent. You've got the relatively contained old-town area (they're even shaped about the same, although obviously Riga has much more of a medieval town core than Pest does since all that stuff would be in Buda Castle) with the surrounding ring of boulevards, then a series of suburbs radiating out from that along the main roads. Of those, the ones north of the old town are the flashiest, displaying a large amount of Jugendstil architecture and being home to a lot of the city's German-speaking elite. The suburb along the river to the south is the poorest, notably being home to the city's Jewish (and in Riga's case, also Russian) minority, while the ones in between the two are working-class and largely ethnically homogenous.

    Of course, the German minority was much bigger in Riga, and made up much of the city's elite. They lived largely in the old town and surrounding areas, but also spread out into the suburbs north and west of town in particular - other than that, the west bank appears to have been mostly Latvian and working-class. So, too, the outer suburbs on the east bank, which were (and are) home to much of Riga's heavy industry and recorded some of the highest Social Democratic voteshares in the city.

    The party names should be self-explanatory, with the possible exception of the Nonpartisan Citizens' Group (Bezpartejiskā pilsoņu grupa), which I assume was a list made up of small business owners and other centre-right types - it's a bit hard to tell as they only stood in this election and Latvian Wikipedia doesn't even have an article on them. But they seem to fill broadly that kind of niche.

    yco4YXL.png
     
    Latvia 1920 (redux)
  • Okay, so here's the 1920 Constituent Assembly election in all its confusing glory. I'll copy-paste the description I wrote for the old map I made of it:
    This election was called pretty much immediately after the armistice between the Latvian national forces and the Red Army in February 1920, and held in April, before there was even a formal peace treaty in place. So the Russian Civil War was very much still raging at this point, even if it wasn't raging within Latvia anymore, and the Bolsheviks, who had some measure of support among the Latvian workers, boycotted the elections. This meant there was effectively only one left-wing force available to vote for - the Social Democratic Workers' Party, organisationally descended from the Latvian Mensheviks, who consequently cleaned up and won nearly 40% of the vote. This wasn't enough for a majority, however, and between the two different Agrarian parties (Latgale had its own one, because they're kind of weird even now and were extremely weird before that part of the country was swamped by Russian migration during the Soviet era), the small bourgeois parties and the various ethnic minorities, the Assembly was essentially centre-right in temperament. The Constitution they wrote, the Satversme (a neologism intended to sound more Latvian than the usual "konstitūcija"), created a parliamentary republic with broad judicial and popular oversight over public power, avoiding most of the social rights that were becoming popular to put in constitutions around this time as well as any notion of abridging the right to private property. A bill of rights was intended to be passed along with the Satversme, but this was voted down by the assembly and not added to the constitution until 1998.

    A couple of finer points that I didn't deal with at the time, because the old map wasn't detailed enough to show them: the Latvian state defined its borders, at least provisionally, based on the uyezds (districts; apriņķi in Latvian) of the Russian Empire, simply because those were the administrative units that already existed. Those borders would end up changing, sometimes in Latvia's favour and sometimes against it, following border agreements conducted in 1920-21 with all neighbouring countries, but even in April 1920 they didn't perfectly match what the government in Riga actually controlled. In particular, most of Ilukste district was under Polish occupation following their counteroffensive in the Polish-Soviet War - there was a substantial Polish population in the region, as we can see from the fact that the Polish list was the biggest in both Daugavpils and Kraslava, but Poland was not successful in pressing this claim and eventually handed the area back to Latvia.

    There were also a number of parishes along the northern border that were under Estonian control, and a couple would eventually get handed to Estonia - the most notable dispute here concerned the town of Walk (its German name - Valka in Latvian, Valga in Estonian), a rail junction that sat right on the border and had a mixed population. Both countries wanted it, Estonia because of its rail junction and slight Estonian majority and Latvia because it was the seat of a district that was otherwise pretty much all Latvian. In the end, the British civil servant Stephen Tallents was invited to arbitrate the issue, and drew a new border that split the town in half. Estonia got the railway station and most of the town centre, Latvia got the western suburbs and approaches to the station. Two separate town councils were set up, and this situation was only really undone when the two countries joined the Schengen Area in 2007.

    The border with Lithuania, meanwhile, did not see any such caveats in this election, which is sort of interesting because it means Palanga got to vote in its first and only Latvian election. Like the rest of Courland, it was extremely left-wing - the rural municipality was almost entirely red, while the town was divided between the socialists and a Jewish unity list. To my surprise, Akniste also voted in 1920 even though it had been part of Kovno province, but the other two parishes ceded by Lithuania in exchange for Palanga did not seem to have participated in this election.

    Also, I had to use 13 out of 16 sets of shades for this, so I'm sorry if parts of it are hard to read. I was particularly hoping I'd be able to avoid the grey shades, but at the end of the day, I think distinguishing the LgLP from Ceire Cion is more important than distinguishing them from occupied areas.

    val-lv-1920.png
     
    Latvia 1922 (redux)
  • And 1922. There's less to add to this, in part because I described it more thoroughly at the time and in part because I actually mapped it by parish at the time.
    The Constituent Assembly lasted about two years, during which time it managed to pass a number of significant laws beside the Satversme - it set up key cultural institutions for the new republic, established universal public education, reformed marriage and property laws (including a massive land reform intended to increase the number of self-owning farmers, a measure that probably had a bigger impact on Latvian society than the new constitution itself), and reformed the local government system to make town and parish councils directly elected under universal suffrage (under the Russian system, the richest landowners sat on the council by right while the other landowners got to elect representatives and the landless had no say whatsoever).

    The centre-right "unity coalition" that had governed Latvia through the independence struggle fell in June 1921 for reasons unknown to me, and was replaced with a new coalition between the agrarian parties, the centrist Workers' Party (now fading into irrelevance everywhere but Latgale) and a breakaway right faction of the LSDSP, who dubbed themselves the Mensheviks (mazinieki, a word that I've also seen translated as "minimalists"). The new government was led by Zigfrīds Anna Meierovics, previously the Foreign Minister under Ulmanis, who was half-Jewish (as the surname hints) but grew up in rural Courland and considered himself Latvian through and through, leading as he did the first Latvian cabinet with no national minorities represented. His government's activities were concerned largely with further statebuilding, including the establishment of the lats as a new national currency and the standardisation of Latvian spelling, replacing the old orthography based on German with a new one that closely represented the language as spoken (hence all the diacritics in modern Latvian writing).

    With the Satversme passed and set to go into effect in November 1922, the Assembly dissolved itself and called for a new Saeima, or parliament (the Latvian word is almost certainly related to the Polish sejm, both meaning "meeting" or "assembly", but there was a fun controversy in the 19th century where a Latvian nationalist claimed to have "coined" the term independently and strenuously denied it had any connection whatsoever to any other language), to be elected in early October. The electoral law used for the Constituent Assembly was essentially carried over to this new body, with two slight modifications - firstly, the number of seats up for election decreased from 150 to 100, which was deemed enough for a country the size of Latvia, and secondly, the voter would now be allowed to strike out names from party lists and replace them with candidates from other lists - a form of panachage, basically. The Constituent Assembly spent a lot of time discussing Switzerland as a model for republican government, and no doubt this innovation came from there.

    The elections resulted in some losses for both the LSDSP and the agrarians, who did especially badly in Latgale - the Latgalian Farmers' Party was reduced to a single seat, its place as the main voice of rural Latgale taken over by the Christian Farmers' and Catholic Party, which was an overtly Christian democratic organisation modelled on the German Centre Party and directly supported by the Catholic hierarchy. The liberal Democratic Centre also gained slightly, while the minority bloc essentially stayed put (as one might expect). The Mensheviks, who had hoped to seriously compete with the "rump" LSDSP for the working-class vote, suffered what can only be described as a fiasco - with some 6% of the vote and seven seats, they did place third, but it was a poor third, and not enough to save their coalition with the agrarians in government. When the First Saeima met, it elected an LSDSP member to chair it, and President Čakste called on the LSDSP to attempt to form a government. The overall left-right balance hadn't really shifted, however, and they would be hard-pressed to find anyone willing to support them.
    I may at some point go over the results in detail to see if I can untangle the "other" category used for the percentage section of the report, but that will have to be when I'm even more unemployed than currently.

    val-lv-1922.png
     
    Los Angeles 1949
  • So I've been getting into two different areas lately: the Baltics, and Los Angeles. Why these two at the same time, you may ask? I don't know, but here's the other one.

    Since 1925, the Los Angeles City Council has used pretty much the same electoral system: fifteen members are elected from fifteen single-member districts, with no party affiliations shown on ballots and elections every two years. Today, half the council is up for election each time, providing four-year terms, but this only came about in the 1950s, prior to that councillors served two-year terms and all fifteen seats were up in every election.

    In theory, at least. This being the US, and in spite of the nonpartisan ballots being meant as a way to prevent party machines from forming, most incumbents tended to run unopposed. In 1949, the election I looked at first (because it's the first one I could easily find district boundaries for), only one (1) seat had a contested election, with District 9 incumbent Parley P. Christensen losing to fellow Democrat Edward R. Roybal. Roybal is historically significant because he was descended from an old New Mexican Hispanic family and is usually considered LA's first Latino councillor (although you do have to add "in modern times" to that, because of course there were a number of Californios elected to the council in its early days).

    (It is worth noting that "how many council seats are contested" isn't quite as secure an indicator of local democracy in the US, and particularly in California, as it is in countries like the UK - LA had a fiercely-contested mayoral election in the same year, and of course there were constant referendum campaigns. Still, always worth remembering the downsides of the "golden age of bipartisanship")

    With all that in mind, I think the district map is more interesting to look at than the actual election map. The fact that the districts got redrawn frequently but never changed in number means you can follow LA's urban sprawl very effectively, and well, what we see in 1949 is certainly a more concentrated urban area than what exists today, but it's still not that dense. LA was never a very dense city, it was advertised as the sort of place where people could have the amenities of a city without becoming city people - at this point it was still one of the most productive agricultural regions in the US, and car ownership had been the norm for most (white) households even before the war. Even so, as we can see, settlement was largely concentrated around downtown and the few miles surrounding it. South Central ended around Watts and Inglewood, the Westside wasn't quite fully built-up all the way to Santa Monica, and the San Fernando Valley was rural enough that only one of the fifteen seats (District 1) was contained entirely within it. District 2 would likely have had a large part of its population in the Valley as well, but it also included much of Hollywood, so it's hard to say. Of course, most of the southward and eastward sprawl happened outside the city limits, so will be hard to discern from this - it's really mostly going to be the Valley's growth that will make an impact.

    Of course, LA County has its own legislative body, the Board of Supervisors, elected using much the same system, but trying to map those districts would likely be a lot of work for limited returns considering there are five (5) of them for the entire county.

    la-dist-1949.png
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    Gubernatorial terms in the United States
  • Another American one, another quick one.

    The people who read this thread will probably know that most US states have governors who are elected to four-year terms, either coinciding with presidential terms, coinciding with midterm congressional elections (this one is most common), or in a few cases elected in odd-numbered years. The only exceptions are Vermont and New Hampshire, whose governors serve two-year terms and are up for election alongside all congressional elections.

    It may surprise some of you to learn that the latter used to be far more common - and this is one of those constitutional changes that have happened more recently than you'd expect from the US. Until the 1950s, most states in the Upper Midwest, Great Plains, New England, as well as some in the South and Mountain West, elected their governors every two years. This included a few large, politically significant states like Texas and Ohio, but most of the "two-year states" were on the smaller side. Most of them made the switch between about 1950 and 1980, but a couple of stragglers held out - Arkansas changed to four-year terms in 1986, and Rhode Island in 1994.

    There was also a significant bloc of states in the Mid-Atlantic region that previously had three-year terms. Most of these had changed to four years by the mid-19th century, but New Jersey held out until 1943 - this is why it still holds all its state-level elections in odd-numbered years. And of course, New England used to pride itself on holding annual elections, but that doesn't show on this map because they all switched to two-year terms before then moving to four-year ones (in some cases). Similarly, New York briefly had three-year terms in the 19th century, but switched back to two years before then going up to four in 1938.

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    Washington DC subway plan, 1944
  • Lost a bunch of work to last night's power outage, so the quickies will continue until morale improves.

    In the years leading up to WWII, the population of the District of Columbia had nearly doubled. The New Deal programs saw the remit of the federal government expanded hugely, and that brought a lot of new jobs and economic development to a national capital that was still essentially a mid-sized Victorian town. The infrastructure of the city, with low-slung buildings, leafy streets and slow, aging streetcars, was unable to cope, and over the 1940s and 50s, a number of plans were proposed to solve this problem.

    In 1941, the District government issued a transportation plan which made only modest recommendations - suggesting stops be removed to speed up travel and particularly busy crossings be grade-separated if necessary. This raised the ire of Congress, which still had significant influence over the District's governance, and William T. Schulte, Democrat from Indiana and chair of the House Subcommittee on District Traffic, immediately set about drawing up a rival plan that would include rapid transit. Even this plan ended up rejecting the idea of a rapid transit subway, partly because DC was still relatively small and partly because it held that a subway line would spur intensive development that would threaten its urban fabric. Schulte lost his seat in the 1942 midterms, and for the next twenty years, transit planning in DC would focus on improvements to the streetcar network.

    The most ambitious of these plans was drawn up in 1944 by the J.E. Greiner Company, an engineering consultancy contracted by the District government. It called for the construction of three separate streetcar subways, which would total about seven miles in length - the largest such system in the US by some margin. One of these would run along Pennsylvania Avenue, serving both the White House and the Capitol as well as several key federal buildings, while another would run along Connecticut Avenue and G Street and serve the District's commercial core. The third line would run under 14th Street, incorporating the already-existing underground streetcar loop at the Bureau of Engraving and Printing, and stopping at Thomas Circle because of the car tunnel there which made cut-and-cover construction impossible. Most of these stations, aside from the transfer stations and the ones along Pennsylvania Avenue, would be built immediately below ground with no mezzanines - passengers would go directly from street level to the platforms, and to access the platform in the opposite direction would have to go up to surface level and cross the street. This made construction a lot cheaper than bored tunnels, and the entire thing was estimated to cost $56 million (just under a billion in today's money).

    However, the plan soon met with opposition. Congress found it too expensive, with the post-war mood shifting decisively away from big government projects, and the public complained that it would require too many rerouted lines and place stations too far apart (insanely, given how they were far closer than in any subsequent proposal). Finally, the privately-owned Capital Transit system was uninterested in operating underground streetcars because they felt they would make the system too inflexible. Government operation was proposed in later plans, but was opposed by both Capital Transit and organised labour, who believed their bargaining position would be worsened if the government took over. As a result of all this, the government's attention shifted to freeways as a solution to DC's traffic problems, and so it would remain until the early 1960s.

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    India 2024
  • The count is done, the results are out, and the map is drawn.

    After ten years of Modi, a lot of different groups of people in India were fed up, and unlike in previous elections, the INC was successful in uniting almost all of them into a single broad front. This new alliance, which in a backronym worthy of Carl Barks or the JPL was dubbed the Indian National Developmental Inclusive Alliance (I.N.D.I.A.), brought together the INC's traditional UPA allies, the various communist parties, the Trinamool Congress, the Samajwadi Party and several other state parties. As is common in Indian federal elections, the alliance came with a set of seat-sharing agreements, but these were negotiated on a state-by-state basis and didn't necessarily include all the parties in the alliance.
    - In West Bengal, the INC allied with the Left Front parties as they had in recent state elections, but the Trinamool Congress presented its own slate of candidates which generally outperformed their allies.
    - Kerala, too, saw its traditional governing coalitions - the INC-led United Democratic Front and the Communist-led Left Democratic Front - each put up their own slates of candidates to compete against those of the BJP, but here the UDF was triumphant.
    - In Punjab, the populist Aam Aadmi Party and the Sikh nationalist Shiromani Akali Dal each had a full slate, resulting in a very messy four-sided election that ended in a rout for both the BJP and SAD. The farmers' protest movement is still very much ongoing in Punjab, and this no doubt played a big part in the BJP getting locked out of the state and losing multiple seats in Haryana.
    - Maharashtra saw major splits in both of its state-level parties (the Nationalist Congress Party, traditionally a Congress ally, and Shiv Sena, traditionally a BJP ally) following the 2019 state elections, but it seems as though the majority factions of both parties are now with the opposition, and indeed the opposition achieved a near-sweep of the state's interior.

    In other parts of India - notably the traditionally BJP-supporting central belt as well as the northeast and the Himalayan foothills - the BJP held firm, even increasing its voteshares in a number of places. Surat constituency went unopposed after its opposition candidates were both disqualified and all minor candidates withdrew, and in Indore, the INC candidate switched parties to the BJP and stood down at the last minute, forcing the opposition to endorse a "none of the above" vote. I don't know the exact details of either case, but let's just say neither gives me good vibes, and one imagines situations like those would've become more common had Modi won the constitutional majority he sought. Instead, we get the first hung parliament since 2009, and although the BJP is the largest party by far, they will have to negotiate for power in a way they haven't had to the previous two times. Which, by itself, is a victory.

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    India 1984
  • Indira Gandhi's fourth term in office was as eventful as the ones before. The Assam Agitation continued to rage, with regular communal riots and lynchings targeting the state's Muslim population, and Indira's intransigence was to her credit for once as she refused to compromise with the movement. Sanjay, now in a formal position of power as the MP for Amethi, continued to expand his influence, and was widely-tipped as his mother's successor at the head of the INC. With his nativist views and heavy-handed political style, he would likely have taken the party in a very different - and considerably darker - direction, but ultimately we can't say what would've happened, because just a few months after the 1980 election, Sanjay crashed the plane he was flying and died.

    Indira responded to her favourite son's death by withdrawing even further from the spotlight, and refused to trust anyone outside her own family. As such, she decided to force her other son, Rajiv, into giving up his career as an airline pilot and enter politics. By all accounts, Rajiv Gandhi had spent his entire life up to this point trying to avoid politics, but between his brother's death and his mother's sheer insistence that no one else could take his place, he now agreed to stand in the by-election for Sanjay's old seat. He won by a good margin, as expected in this ultra-safe Congress seat, and to help him develop his political skills and build a base of support, his mother arranged for him to take a manageable entry-level job as... General Secretary of the All India Congress Committee. So much for soft starts. Of course, his rise would continue at a pace greater than anyone had expected, but neither mother nor son really had much say in that.

    By this point, tensions were on the rise in Punjab. This largely-agricultural state had suffered heavily from unemployment resulting from mechanisation of agriculture and neglect by the central government, which didn't want to invest in the economy of a vulnerable border region. To many Sikhs in particular, this proved that Delhi would never respect them and that they needed to take control of their own affairs. A Sikh nationalist party, the Shiromani Akali Dal, achieved electoral success in 1977 after drafting the Anandpur Sahib resolution, a manifesto calling for an autonomous Punjabi state sharing only a common currency, defence and foreign policy with India, and joining the struggle against the Emergency. Over the next several years, the Akali Dal organised a series of mass protests calling for more autonomy for Punjab and greater state recognition of the Sikh religion, but there was also a growth in more radical Sikh nationalism. In 1982, a group of Sikh separatists led by Jarnail Singh Bhindranwale set themselves up inside the Golden Temple, one of Sikhism's holiest sites, and effectively established a shadow government for what they called "Khalistan" (which literally means "land of the pure", although it would be understood as "land of the Khalsa", i.e. those who follow Sikh customs observantly). There ensued a long campaign of violence against both symbols of the state and the local Hindu community, whose perpetrators often hid or were alleged to hide in gurdwaras (Sikh temples) and use worshippers as human shields. The Akali Dal leaders were careful to keep Bhindranwale and his followers at arm's length, stressing repeatedly that they had no desire to break away from India and that they viewed Sikhs as Indians, but the government kept cracking down even on moderate Sikh activism, and drove more and more Sikhs into the arms of the Khalistan movement.

    On the 1st of June, 1984, after talks broke down between representatives of Bhindranwale and the central government, Indira Gandhi ordered the commencement of Operation Blue Star: the Army would raid the Golden Temple and take Bhindranwale and his followers into custody. The result was a bloodbath, with anywhere from hundreds to thousands killed as the situation slipped out of anyone's control. One of the casualties was Bhindranwale, who was killed as the military finally stormed the Temple, but it took them a week to dislodge him, and the fact that they chose to begin the operation during a major Sikh pilgrimage meant that civilian casualties were extremely high. Many Sikhs viewed this as a deliberate provocation, and even though Bhindranwale's movement fell apart, in the medium term Blue Star served only to reinvigorate the Khalistan movement and turn it into a full-on insurgency. It also had dire consequences for Indira personally. The British had regarded the Sikhs as one of India's "martial races" and recruited them heavily into their military, a tradition carried on by the independent Indian Army - to include the Prime Minister's bodyguards. Following Blue Star and the rise of communal violence in Punjab, the intelligence services had removed the Sikhs from Indira's personal protection detail, but she reinstated them when she found out, partly out of fear that firing all the Sikhs close to her would reinforce her image as an enemy of the Sikh religion, but also out of a sincere belief that the men who had guarded her for years could be implicitly trusted. She was wrong.

    On the 31st of October, Indira Gandhi left her home at 1 Safdarjung Road in New Delhi, accompanied by a secretary and two bodyguards. When she passed through the front gate of the house, guarded by her favourite Sikh bodyguards Beant and Satwant Singh, the gatekeepers shot her multiple times in the chest and stomach and then ran away. Beant was shot trying to escape, while Satwant was captured alive and eventually executed in 1989. Indira was taken to hospital, but was proclaimed dead quite soon after - the medical examiners concluded that she'd been shot 30 times, of which seven bullets were lodged in her body. A state of national mourning was proclaimed running until the 12th of November, but this didn't stop the population of Delhi from launching a series of pogroms against the city's Sikh population. They were aided in some cases by local Congress activists, who helped them identify Sikh homes using voter rolls and school registration forms, and violence spilled over into Haryana as well as Punjab itself over the next few days. Sources differ widely on the number of people killed, but most seem to agree that the figure is in the thousands, with some 20,000 people displaced from their homes in and around the capital.

    The other immediate consequence of Indira's death, of course, was the ascension to power of her son, who had just turned forty, had about three years of political experience, and now found himself at the head of an enormous country engaged in multiple internal conflicts. Rajiv began his time in office by firing a number of his mother's closest advisors, replacing them with friends of his from his time at the Doon School (the "Eton of India"), and almost immediately called an election. He technically could've waited a few more months to do this, but it was felt that the new government should go to the country to establish a mandate - and, more cynically, that the outpouring of public grief over Indira's death would benefit Congress at the polls.

    They were probably right about that, but it's not as though their government had a serious rival at this point. The Janata Party had almost completely died, the Left Front continued to govern West Bengal and had a foothold in Kerala but almost nothing in other states, and Hindu nationalism was still a fringe ideology at this point. Congress dominance was only seriously threatened in two major states: West Bengal, where the Left Front held on in spite of significant Congress gains, and Andhra Pradesh, where the legendary Telugu film actor N. T. Rama Rao, who made a name for himself organising humanitarian aid after a devastating flood in 1977, created the Telugu Desam Party and defeated the Congress state government in the 1983 election. In the general election the following year, his party remained strong even as Congress swept nearly the entire country, and in fact the TDP became the first and only regional party to become the official opposition in the Lok Sabha. They did this by winning 30 seats, compared with 404 for Congress - the largest number of seats ever won by any party in an Indian election. This was in spite of the fact that polling was suspended in both Punjab and Assam owing to lingering civil unrest in those states - when they finally did go to the polls in autumn 1985, the INC seat total went up by another ten seats.

    Rajiv Gandhi now had the clearest possible mandate to govern, and the 8th Lok Sabha would last almost its entire five-year term. By then, the political landscape was unrecognisable.

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    Mumbai 2017
  • Mumbai is, depending on how you shake it, either the most populous or the second most populous (after Delhi) city in India - either way, it was the clear number one until relatively recently, and is being overtaken by the explosive growth of the national capital. It still remains the financial and cultural capital of India, with both a major port (accounting for 70% of India's maritime trade), the headquarters of a number of major corporations, India's oldest and largest stock exchange, and of course, the entertainment juggernaut that is Bollywood. The city was formerly known as Bombay, which was held to be from the Portuguese "boa bahia" meaning "good bay", but today this is widely regarded as a post hoc colonial invention, and Mumbai is acknowledged as the original name for the city. You'll notice some weasel words in that sentence - of course, which name is the original is hard to really pin down given that the modern city didn't exist before colonial times, but local politics has come to attach a great deal of importance to the city's origins and ownership of its history.

    In modern times, Mumbai is the capital of Maharashtra, one of India's largest states, which is a post-independence construct designed to unite the Marathi people in a single state. This concept of a Marathi ethnostate has become very significant politically, especially where it clashes with reality. Mumbai, where Marathi-speakers never formed more than a narrow majority (today they're around 35% of the population), is the most jarring case. In the colonial era, Bombay was the seat of one of British India's presidencies, governing much of India's western seaboard, and the city drew in people from all over that region. Gujaratis formed a particularly large minority, as did Muslims from around the region. Following independence and the rapid industrialisation of the city, a large influx of people came to Mumbai both from rural Maharashtra and the impoverished rural areas of North India, and clashes between these groups - the Marathis believing that "their" city is being swamped by recent migrants who will undermine their culture in their state's capital, and the North Indians believing that they have as much right to seek a good life in the city as any other Indian citizen, and that the Marathi claims are unreasonable given that they remain the largest, most established ethnic group in the city and will likely remain so even though Bollywood predominantly makes films in Hindi.

    The political makeup of the Brihanmumbai Municipal Corporation (formerly the Bombay Municipal Corporation - attaching "Brihan-", meaning "greater", to the front of the name let them keep the recognisable abbreviation BMC) has traditionally reflected this conflict, with the dominant forces in the city being Congress on the one hand, and Shiv Sena on the other. Every mayor but one since 1985 has come from one of these parties, and Shiv Sena have generally dominated the office. That party has its origins in Marathi chauvinist agitation following the creation of Maharashtra, and was initially led by the cartoonist and activist Bal Thackeray, who had been fired from the English-language Free Press Journal for his repeated attacks on out-of-state migrants to Mumbai. Inspired by the RSS and encouraged by the local Congress government, which wanted to combat the influence of the Communist Party among Mumbai's working class, Thackeray went on to found an "army" of young Marathi radicals who would fight for their culture and Hindu traditions, against communists, Muslims and North Indian migrants. The Shiv Sena ("Army of Shivaji", Shivaji being a pre-colonial Maratha king who fought the Muslim Mughals and conquered much of central India) became a political party in the 1970s, and grew from its initial base in Mumbai to become Maharashtra's second-largest party in the 1990 state elections. It was also a key player in the 1992-93 communal riots which saw nearly a thousand people killed, most of them Muslims.

    Shiv Sena is interesting, and sort of parallels the broader Hindutva movement (which it allied with very early on), in that it's a movement that cuts across caste lines - its leaders are mainly from higher castes, but the foot soldiers (Shivsainiks) have been drawn from almost every Marathi caste, and are united by ethnic rather than caste affiliation. This has allowed it to secure a very strong vote bank of lower- and middle-class Marathis across Mumbai, and it's been the largest party on the BMC council since at least 1997 (probably longer, but I don't have results for those elections). The INC, as mentioned, have generally been the strongest opposition, with the BJP in third (and generally allied with Shiv Sena), but there was a splintering of the political scene in the late 00s, as Bal Thackeray prepared to retire from the Shiv Sena leadership and disputes arose over his succession. His son Uddhav was eventually able to take over, but not before Raj Thackeray, Bal's nephew and Uddhav's cousin, took a number of more radical Shivsainiks with him to form the Maharashtra Navnirman Sena (Maharashtra Reformation Army), which promised to shift the movement's focus away from backroom deals and collaboration with the BJP and towards its original core values of lynching Biharis and making veiled threats at Bollywood actors. The Samajwadi Party was beginning to organise the Uttar Pradeshi community in Mumbai around the same time, and the two parties' activists came to blows repeatedly over the winter of 2007-08, culminating in a wave of attacks on North Indians in Maharashtra in February 2008. Along with Raj Thackeray's forceful attacks on corporations laying off workers in Mumbai, this gave the MNS a lot of momentum, and they ended up winning a decent bloc of seats in the 2009 state election. The wheels started to come off after that, though, and while they won 28 seats on the BMC in the 2012 local elections, that was their last significant showing.

    The most recent elections to the BMC were held on 21 February 2017, and most notably saw the BJP rise from 31 to 82 seats, making it the second largest party on the council after Shiv Sena. The INC and MNS lost 21 seats apiece, while the Samajwadis won six seats and the All India Majlis-e-Ittehadul Muslimeen took two. Finally, alongside five independents, one councillor was elected from the Akhil Bharatiya Sena (All India Army), which contrary to what its name might lead one to expect is not a Shiv Sena splinter - well, not quite. It was founded by Arun Gawli, a notorious underworld figure who had been loosely allied to Shiv Sena until some kind of dispute in the mid-90s caused him to take out hits on several Shivsainiks and break off to found his own party. The party is about as coherent as you'd guess based on this, and basically only exists to distribute patronage in and around Gawli's stronghold in the former textile mills of Byculla.

    The BMC has 227 seats, each of which is elected in a single-member electoral ward - these are not to be confused with the 24 administrative wards, which are used for a number of BMC services but don't serve any electoral purpose anymore. This entire system is set to be overhauled, with twelve new administrative wards (three each for the south, west and east regions of the city) and 236 electoral wards, of which about half will be reserved for women in addition to the usual scheduled castes and tribes seats (I would assume the latter had reserved seats before, but I haven't been able to find any information about that). However, implementation of this has been delayed due to general political chaos in Maharashtra, and at the end of the council's five-year term in 2022, the BMC was placed under administration by its civil servants. AFAICT, no date has yet been announced for the next local elections, but I assume they're not going to be held until after the state elections due in October.

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    London S-Bahn
  • I got sick of drawing cantons and decided to do something completely different.

    So I've been watching a lot of Jago Hazzard videos recently (can recommend if you're into railways or urban history, he posts a lot of bite-size videos on various things around London and they're of amazingly consistent quality considering his upload schedule), and a thing he talked quite a lot about a while ago that drew my attention was the wartime plans for London's rail network, whose most notable outcome IOTL was the Victoria line of the Underground. Now, people who know about these things will no doubt be familiar with the County of London Plan of 1943, with its proposals for parkway rings around the city and rail terminal loops to supersede several of the terminus stations and allow the demolition of railway viaducts in inner London. What you may not know is that the government appointed a committee consisting of railway professionals to review the Plan's recommendations, and they ended up rejecting all but one of the proposed schemes and drawing up an entirely different proposal.

    The Railway (London Plan) Committee 1944, as its slightly cumbersome formal name was, delivered its report in 1946, just in time for the first post-war recovery efforts. As mentioned, a goal of the original County of London Plan had been to get rid of central London's many rail viaducts, and the South Bank in particular was seen as an area that would be ripe for development if it weren't divided by them. Unfortunately, the viaducts through the South Bank served the busy suburban termini of Charing Cross, Blackfriars, Cannon Street and London Bridge, and it would be impossible to demolish them without providing an alternative way for commuters to reach central London. The County of London Plan's solution to this had been a balloon loop starting at London Bridge and running past the other termini (as well as Waterloo), but the actual railway engineers on the Committee dismiss this concept out of hand, because the junction at Tower Bridge would severely limit capacity. According to their calculations, the traffic into central London from the southeast would require a peak capacity of 125 trains per hour through London Bridge, and their conclusion is that in order to achieve this, no less than five new routes would need to be built. These would be routed through the City and (where practicable) the West End, so as to deliver passengers to their actual destinations as efficiently as possible, and coupled with appropriate suburban routes on the other side of London.

    The Committee's report included twelve route proposals in total, of which three (routes 10-12) were capacity boosts for the Northern line and would be served with tube stock, so I've ignored those for these purposes - either way they're not very interesting to map. Route 10 was a set of express tracks from Kennington to Tooting Broadway, route 11 a short extension from Morden to North Cheam at the south end of the line (which, they stress, should not be built before the express tracks, or else the line wouldn't be able to handle the added passengers), and route 12 was two alternate proposals (12A and 12B) for relief lines along the section from Waterloo to Golders Green. Route 7 also doesn't show up on the map, as it was intended to serve cross-city freight trains, but it would've run north-south about parallel to route 6. This leaves us eight routes - 1 through 6, 8 and 9 - which were full-size suburban passenger railways, intended to be electrified (the Committee did not favour any specific system, but noted that it should ideally be standardised), operated with modern EMUs with walkways between carriages and remote-operated sliding doors, and segregated from all other traffic along their routes. In other words, an S-Bahn for London.

    The numbering of the routes was based on geographic location and section of the report, and did not indicate construction priority - in fact, route 1 was in the lowest priority group, since its lines were not deemed to need much improvement and would only need to be rerouted when the time came to rebuild London Bridge. Its core section would've started with the Brighton Main Line through East Croydon and Norwood Junction, taking over service on several branch lines in east Surrey, then gone underground around New Cross Gate (just before the line's merger with the South Eastern Main Line into London Bridge) and served the new interchange station at Tower Bridge Road. This was intended to replace London Bridge - ideally they would've wanted to serve London Bridge directly, but the determination was made that the routes into central London wouldn't be able to spread out properly from there, so the station was to be moved east. This would've been a ten-track station - two tracks for each route serving it - built to allow interchange in the most convenient way possible, so that passengers from any one of the five suburban routes would be able to access any one of the tunnels through central London. From there, route 1 would head due north, stopping at Fenchurch Street before connecting to the Northern City line at Moorgate and taking it over all the way to Finsbury Park. A new tunnel would be dug from there to Seven Sisters, allowing the route to take over the Enfield Town branch, and the report also suggests having it take over the Alexandra Palace branch - if the plan to integrate that into the Northern line were to fall through, as was looking likely by this time.

    Route 2 would take over the Mole Valley line from Dorking, in addition to serving the Crystal Palace branch, and then head underground at Queens Road (Peckham). After Tower Bridge Road, it would parallel the Central line through the City, with stops at Bank, Snow Hill/Holborn Viaduct (what's now City Thameslink), Holborn and Euston, from where it would take over the Watford DC line.

    Route 3 was a bit more complicated in the south - it was one of the three routes serving the North Kent lines, in this case the route via Greenwich, but would also take over the Hayes and Addiscombe lines (the latter of which is now part of Tramlink). Its underground section would start at New Cross, then parallel route 2 as far as Holborn, from where it proceeded to Tottenham Court Road, Bond Street and Marylebone. From there, it would take over the Great Central's suburban routes, which were pretty anaemic in the 40s, and you can tell because there were remarkably few stations along that route - I assume most suburban traffic was picked up by the parallel Metropolitan line of the Underground. The latter would be parallelled all the way out to Aylesbury, in addition to which the route would serve the Great Central Main Line as far as High Wycombe.

    Route 4 was solely devoted to the North Kent services, serving Woolwich via Blackheath as well as Bexleyheath. It was the only one of routes 1-5 to be recommended for immediate construction, since the section between New Cross and Lewisham was badly congested and the tunnel would relieve it. To this end its tunnel started all the way down in Lewisham, and I don't actually know what (if any) intermediate stations would be served, but I've put in St John's and New Cross here. It would run down the Strand once in the city, providing connections to all those cross-river termini proposed for eventual demolition, before running through Piccadilly Circus, Marble Arch and Paddington. The tunnel would then continue north through Maida Vale to Cricklewood, where it would join the suburban service along the Midland Main Line and take that over as far as Harpenden.

    Route 5 would parallel route 4 for a good portion of its length, and serve the South Eastern Main Line all the way to Sevenoaks as well as the Dartford Loop via Sidcup and the Bromley North branch. It would dive underground at Hither Green, the farthest out of any route, and then proceed across the South Bank to Waterloo Junction (what's now Waterloo East). Strangely, even though the plan was meant to stimulate development on the South Bank, no intermediate station was proposed between Tower Bridge Road and Waterloo Junction - you'd think a connection to the Northern line at Borough would make sense, but no. After stopping at Charing Cross it rejoined route 4 as far as Paddington, and then proceeded up the Great Western Main Line to Maidenhead and Windsor, a pretty similar route to the one Crossrail takes now.

    Route 6, finally, was the only South Bank route not to serve Tower Bridge Road, and the only one that kind of exists now - it more or less parallels Thameslink, albeit in a new tunnel rather than following the existing City Widened Lines. As a result of this, its alignment was played with a little bit, and it would divert to serve Waterloo Junction before crossing the river and ending up more or less where it was. A station would be added at Mount Pleasant, which is interesting given that area very conspicuously lacks a station IOTL despite being crossed by both Thameslink and the Underground, and then it would be joined with King's Cross rather than St Pancras going north. At its southern end, the route would take over the Catford Loop with service down to Sevenoaks as well as the remainder of the Crystal Palace branch, and this would more or less complete the takeover of the former South Eastern and Chatham suburban rail services. This was recommended for immediate construction as well, and was the only County of London Plan proposal to be carried over into the Committee's report.

    In addition to these six, the Committee also proposed two more routes for immediate construction, which would not further the goal of South Bank redevelopment but would relieve critically congested sections of railway. Route 8 should be familiar to some - it would provide a direct connection between King's Cross and Victoria stations, connecting with Finsbury Park to the north and Vauxhall and Brixton to the south. This is basically what would become the Victoria line, although at this stage it was planned as a mainline rail tunnel rather than a tube line. This is also reflected in its length, with it starting all the way down at East Croydon and proceeding north to Wood Green, from where it could take over former Great Northern suburban services into Hertfordshire. I've used a bit of artistic licence in depicting this service, since the plan calls for both the routes via Potters Bar and Cuffley to be served by both routes 6 and 8, but after drawing the Dartford services I was a bit sick of joint stations.

    The final proposal was route 9, which would relieve some of the suburban services out of Waterloo. I think the southwest is conspicuously absent from this map in general, which is definitely something a proper London S-Bahn would remedy, but the route recommended would start at Raynes Park, shadowing the South Western Main Line up to Vauxhall, then go under the river to new stations at Millbank, Westminster and Charing Cross. This is where it gets weird, because despite sharing an alignment with routes 2 and 3, the only actual shared station proposed was at Holborn. From there, rather than Snow Hill and Bank, the line would stop at St Paul's (roughly) and Liverpool Street, then proceed up to Dalston Junction and across to Clapton from where it would take over the Chingford branch. Clapton is where the tunnel would end, and no doubt the planners were eager to tear down the Dalston Viaduct, which would allow new development in what were then some of inner London's worst slums. Oddly though, as with the South Bank section of route 5, no intermediate stations were planned between Liverpool Street and Dalston Junction.

    All in all, I think this is a very interesting set of proposals that shows us a glimpse of a time when British planners arguably dreamed too big. There was, of course, no money for any of this in post-war Britain, the country was bombed to bits and the newly-formed British Rail would've been happy to just get things back to the way they were before the war. And when the country began to emerge from austerity in the 50s, it was under a Conservative government that preferred to focus on road building. I don't know if a scheme like this would've ever been practical - the Committee notes that it would take about 30 years to get built, and that's even in their fairly rosy estimate - but it's interesting to look at what might've been and compare it to the current state of the network. As of writing, all the cross-river termini still stand, and the viaducts with them - Thameslink has shown that they can be put to very good use for suburban traffic without having to be torn down and replaced with tunnels, but I imagine a lot of south London commuters having to change to the Tube at London Bridge or Victoria would've killed for something like this.

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    France 2024 (Paris, 1st round)
  • Okay, so my goal with the map of French cantons was to have a useful base to work from when mapping recent French elections, specifically the legislative elections held this past June/July. It occurs to me that maybe I should get on with that rather than reading Napoleonic-era administrative laws.

    Here's the first-round results for Paris and the pétite couronne (plus Argenteuil, which is much too small to fit on the main map - this is true of a few other seats in the grande couronne as well, and I will probably add those to the inset before the map's finished). You can really see the strength of the NFP here, they won pretty much everything outside the west of the city proper and the wealthier suburbs. There were some hijinks, however, in Seine-Saint-Denis, with two "independent LFI candidates" winning their seats and a third one coming very close to beating the official candidate. These would later go on to found the new political party l'APRES, which sits with the greens in the Assembly and is otherwise one of the most "XKCD standards" centre-left parties I've ever seen. I've shown them in pink here, which is the shades I plan to use for "divers gauche", i.e. left-of-centre candidates not supported by the NFP. The other colours should be self-explanatory.

    I will have a full key once the map is done, but I should probably explain the letters used for the NFP constituents.
    I = La France insoumise
    S = Parti socialiste
    E = Les Écologistes
    C = Parti communiste français
    G = Génération.s
    D = Divers (others - in concrete terms this means independents or members of parties that got one or zero candidates elected, the same rule I use for Indian elections)

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    France 2024
  • Here it is in all its glory. Some day I may do a writeup, but right now, a) I can't be bothered, and b) I'm not sure one is really needed, the basics of this election should still be fresh in most people's memories. Even if it did take me three and a half months to map.

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    Japan 2024
  • Here's the Japanese election done. This election was preceded by what I think might be the most significant boundary review since the introduction of single-member constituencies in 1996. Tokyo gained five seats, its neighbouring prefectures another four, and Aichi (the Nagoya region) one, and ten different small and medium-sized prefectures each lost a seat to compensate. A large number of seats were also adjusted to align with municipal boundaries, which have seen a lot of change since the 90s. The result of this is that, while constituency electorates are still quite a bit less equal than would be acceptable anywhere in the West, they do all fall within a 2:1 ratio. The biggest seat, Fukuoka-2, has a census population of 547,664, while the smallest, Tottori-2, has 273,973. Normally discrepancies like this would be less of an issue in mixed systems than under pure FPTP, but remember that the Japanese system is not compensatory.

    This is a very interesting election, as it's the first hung parliament since 2003, and quite possibly the most fractured ever elected under the current electoral system. Every Japanese government since Koizumi has managed to achieve a majority, and usually quite a wide one - for most of Abe's time as Prime Minister, the big question in Japanese elections was whether or not the LDP would be able to get a two-thirds majority. However, with the LDP's decline in popularity following Abe's assassination and the later corruption scandals, Japanese politics appears to have returned to the state it was in in the 90s and early 00s, with the LDP as clearly the largest party but unable to form a government on its own.

    The Constitutional Democratic Party, which has pretty much taken up the mantle of the old DPJ, did pretty well in this election but not well enough to actually challenge the LDP for largest-party status. In particular, they utterly failed to advance in the list vote, winning just 21% and 44 seats. Most disaffected LDP voters appear to have either voted for other conservative parties (in particular the People's Democratic Party, founded by politicians on the conservative end of the DPJ who didn't get along with the CDP leadership, and Nippon Ishin no Kai, a very contradictory Osaka-based party that's basically right-wing populist but still gets seen as a "centrist" party because they don't like the LDP) or simply not voted - like the UK election earlier this year, it seems like apathy has been the prevailing mood, and turnout was an absolutely atrocious 53.8%. Also notable, though probably not tied to the LDP decline, was the rise of Reiwa Shinsengumi, a left-wing populist party led by former TV actor Taro Yamamoto. Though hindered by their lack of strong constituency candidates, they were able to get just under 7% of the list vote and nine seats, placing them ahead of the Communists as Japan's biggest left-wing party.

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    Germany: constituency data, 1907-10
  • So the Amtrak project got put on hold almost as quickly as it began, because my interlibrary loan of Carl-Wilhelm Reibel's Handbuch der Reichstagswahlen 1890-1918 was processed a lot quicker than I thought it would be. This is the same set of books I read and started copying down at @iainbhx's two years ago - glad neither I nor he will have to finish that process now.

    The books are laid out by constituency rather than by election, so for the sake of efficiency I'm mapping them all at once. Which means it's a bit of a slog, so I decided to break it up by going through and mapping the population data Reibel includes for each constituency. This consists of three main sets of figures, each of which is useful for understanding Imperial Germany's elections in its own way. Firstly, each constituency chapter has a table of population size at five-year intervals from 1890 to 1910 (I suppose everyone was a bit too busy with other things to tabulate figures for 1915 - understandable, all things considered). This allows us to see both how populations changed as the country urbanised - a process that was very much still ongoing in 1890 - and just how far out of whack they were by the time of the last pre-war election.

    For those not in the know, the Reichstag was elected by majority vote in single-member constituencies, with a runoff if no candidate got a majority. This system, along with the universal suffrage for men aged 25 and over, was considered very liberal when it was introduced in 1867, and was all part of Bismarck's plan to co-opt the working and lower middle classes and use them to overwhelm the middle-class liberal electorate. However, it got less and less so over time, partly because demands to give women and adult men under 25 the vote kept being raised, and partly because the constituencies drawn in 1867 were never adjusted even though the country saw a huge amount of urbanisation and population growth in the intervening period. To illustrate this, the guiding principle when the Reichstag was set up was for each member to represent about a hundred thousand people. The Reichstag had 397 members, and by 1910 the population of Germany was about 65 million.

    The smallest constituency of all was Schaumburg-Lippe, with just under 50,000 inhabitants - there wasn't much that could be done about that, as Schaumburg-Lippe was a state in its own right and every state was entitled to at least one seat, but a number of other seats of well under a hundred thousand people existed around the more rural parts of the country. Most of them were in the east, which (as we'll see in a bit) was mostly agricultural and suffered a serious decline in population over this period, but there were also a surprising number of small constituencies in Alsace - generally, Alsace-Lorraine seems to have had some of the worst constituencies for equality, which I assume is because they all followed administrative district borders slavishly. The biggest constituencies, as you'd expect, were in and around the major cities. Berlin and the Ruhr area were the worst offenders here, each having multiple seats with over half a million people (the biggest one, Potsdam 10 Teltow-Beeskow-Storckow-Charlottenburg - the southern Berlin suburban seat - had a population of 1.3 million in 1910), but the suburban seats for Hamburg, Munich and Leipzig were each about the same size. It should go without saying that, with the exception of a couple of the more Catholic areas in the Ruhr, all of these were SPD strongholds.

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    The second figure, which for whatever reason doesn't follow the pattern of the others in terms of time, is the distribution of major occupational groups along with the overall number of employed men (the statistics don't include women, presumably because women didn't have the vote anyway) in each constituency. The latter would require me to make a spreadsheet if I wanted to do anything with it, so I've focused on the percentages. The division into three sectors should be familiar to anyone who knows about these things, and I don't think Reibel even bothers to define them - it's pretty clear that the commercial sector includes groups like transport workers as well as what we'd consider tertiary-sector professions, and the industrial sector presumably includes miners as well as manufacturing workers and tradesmen.

    The map lets us make out the patterns of industrialisation in Germany, with the Rhine-Ruhr forming a major stronghold of the industrial sector, Saxony another, and smaller nodes around Berlin, the Rhine-Main, the Saar, Hannover, Nuremberg and Upper Silesia. There's also a general pattern of the country getting less industrialised the further east you go, which is partly due to a lack of industrial raw materials in those regions and partly because of systemic neglect stemming from a tradition of serfdom and large landed estates whose quality of management varied from place to place. Basically, this was Germany's Mezzogiorno, with the added element of the large Polish minority in some (but not all) of the region. There were deep fears among the Prussian ruling class that disinvestment and rural flight would allow the Poles to "take over" the eastern provinces, and preventing this took up a large amount of state resources - most notably the Settlement Commission, which was basically a government body tasked with ethnic cleansing. Luckily, it never got very far, and Germany was eventually forced to abandon most of the Polish-speaking areas in the Treaty of Versailles.

    Also of note, a lot of Bavaria was similarly rural at the time. A lot of that state's modern wealth and population density comes from the post-war period, when several major industrial concerns either moved there from the Soviet zone or expanded their existing operations, taking advantage of labour provided by the three million refugees from the Sudetenland settled in the area. This isn't to say that there was no industry in southern Germany before that - Swabia, then as now, was home to a large number of small and midsized industries, and as mentioned, Nuremberg and the Rhine-Neckar were both big manufacturing centres.

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    The third statistic included in the book is religious affiliation, which I think illustrates quite well how the sectarian dynamic changed in Germany following WWII. At this point, while the Catholic minority is certainly large, it makes some sense that Germany was a Protestant state - they utterly and completely dominate in a large swathe of the country centred on Berlin and what would become the GDR, as well as the north coast, and the Catholics are peripheral and divided. Add to this the fact that the only majority-Catholic states were Baden - whose rulers were Protestant - and Bavaria, and we begin to understand both how diluted the power of the Catholic community in the German Empire was, and perhaps also how Bavaria became such an enfant terrible of the German federal system. Of course, when Germany was divided after WWII, this dynamic was completely turned on its head - the constitutionally atheist GDR saw massive drops in church attendance and membership (I think this is a major part of why the churches, and especially the Protestant churches, became such a focus of opposition to the GDR regime towards the end), while West Germany became dominated by Catholics.

    Oh, and as I believe I mentioned when doing the France maps, we can also see how Alsace-Lorraine, which had been thought of as an area with a large Protestant population by French standards, became a very Catholic region by German standards, and how this came to affect its politics both during the German period and after it reverted to France.

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