Myths of Sovereignty and British Isolation XI, Norman, Angevin and Plantagenet England

07/13/201507/13/2015 Barry Stocker History Angevin Empire, Denmark, England, Eurosceptism, France, Harrowing of the North, linguistics, literature, Norman Conquest, state sovereignty, United Kingdom, William the Conqueror

The last post was on Anglo-Saxon England, which came to an end in 1066, soon after the death of Edward the Confessor. Harold Godwinson, King of England, was faced with two major enemies on his accession in 1066: Harold Sigurdsson, usually known as Harold Hardrada, King of Norway, and William the Bastard, Duke of Normandy (de facto Norman king under the symbolic sovereignty of the French monarchy).

Both began invasions of England. Sigurdsson landed in the northeast of England with a Viking army and his ally, Tostig, brother of Harold Godwinson (married to a Danish princess), giving a good idea of how political power in England was entangled with European power politics and centres of sovereignty. Harold marched north and defeated the Viking army, marching south again to meet the threat from Normandy which came very soon.

Harold and the Saxon army did not survives this second blow, and England was changed for ever. William earned the name he is now generally known under, Conqueror, and imposed his will in a manner which destroyed the existing Anglo-Saxon elites in one of the great massacres of English history, the Harrowing of the North. It also led to the construction of new kinds of stone castles to create military state dominance and new grandiose church architecture to create religious state domination.

The Norman dominance later became known as the Norman Yoke, a rather emotive phrase but it is true that the Saxons had less rights than the Normans, that Norman French became the language of state and the ruling class, and that institutions were recast to suit the Normans, who continued to give priority to their homeland in northwestern France. There was an evolution from expanded Norman state to Angevin Anglo-French empire, when Henry II married Eleanor of Aquitaine (southwestern France). Before that the throne was in dispute between Stephen and Matilda, known as the Empress because she had been married to the German ‘Holy Roman’ Emperor.

The Aquitaine alliance gave the King of England more land in France under his control than the French king had under effective control. The combined control of all England and most of France is often known as the Angevin Empire. The outcome of the Norman Conquest and the Angevin Empire is a very tangled period of centuries of a variable Anglo-Norman, then English Plantagenet presence in France.

The crusader king Richard I ‘Coeur de Lion’, son of Henry and Eleanor, died in France protecting his lands there. The next king, also a son of Henry and Eleanor, John, lost nearly all the French lands. The end of of John’s reign and the beginning of Henry III’s reign included a period when Louis XIII of France claimed the English crown in alliance with part of the aristocracy, and had effective control of a large part of England.

The endless back and forth of English involvement in France will be ended here except for these brief remarks. The two most famous English battles in medieval history were the loss to Normandy at Hastings in 1066 and the Battle of Agincourt in 1415 near Calais. The latter battle was part of Henry V establishing a claim to the French monarchy, though this collapsed on his death. Calais remained English until 1588. The English monarchy kept up a symbolic claim to be monarchs of France until 1800.

There is no genuine history of medieval England which is not also a history of medieval France. The overall effect of the English monarchy failing to keep continuous control of France, leaving England as the undoubted core territory, was that over time the monarchy, state and aristocracy became more English. The language had changed considerably, partly under Norman influence, so that what the heirs of William the Conqueror and his Norman barons spoke was Middle English rather than Anglo-Saxon and unlike Anglo-Saxon is at least partly comprehensible to an educated native level speaker of modern English. There was a growth of English literature of a kind that is still read, linked with the growing tendency of the upper class to be primarily English.

The process by which the Anglo-Norman state became England with an English speaking ruling class was gradual and roughly speaking came to an end by the fifteenth century. The re-emergence of an ‘English’ England might suit the advocates of a vision of English history as an island pageant of unique independence, separation and strength, and it is not very long since popular books of history used to be written on those lines. However, the Norman, Angevin and subsequent Plantagenet period just do not fit this unless a supposed endpoint of a pure English England is given priority over what seemed most important to historical actors earlier in their own time. Centuries of English history are Norman French or Anglo-French history.

Advocates of a Sovereigntist-Eurosceptic view of British history, if they acknowledge this (and it is difficult for them to do so as the period includes Magna Carta, a topic to which we will return) are inclined to at least see English history after 1400, and particularly after the establishment of the Tudor dynasty in 1485, as the glorious path of an England, or Britain, separate from Europe. The next post will test that proposition.

Myths of Sovereignty and British Isolation, X. Anglo-Saxon England, the Scandinavian, Frankish and Norman connections

07/10/201507/13/2015 Barry Stocker History Alcuin of York, Anglo-Saxon England, Anglo-Saxon invasion, Bede, Celtic culture, Charlemagne, Cornwall, Denmark, Edward the Confessor, England, France, Gaelic culture, Holy Roman Empire, linguistics, literature, Scandinavia, Sweden, United Kingdom, Wessex

This long series of posts is now going through a survey of British history from the beginning that history to the point where the series started, that is the middle of the eighteenth century. The last post reached the Anglo-Saxon Conquest, which seems to have been more of an elite take over by chieftains and their retinues than a major displacement of population. Nevertheless the Anglo-Saxon conquest was a real cultural transformation in which the evolution of the English language retained almost no trace of the Celtic languages and dialects or even speech rhythms, leaving aside areas where the Celtic languages lingered longer and survived on a minority basis, so influencing English. The Saxon language was not just dominant in England, as it spread in Scotland outside the Gaelic ‘Irish’ speaking areas, displacing non-Celtic languages. So English became the dominant language in what is now the UK and also in what now the Republic or Ireland.

Having emphasised this linguistic transformation, should emphasise that Irish has some distinctive speech patterns from Gaelic, that there is some modern Irish literature in Gaelic and that some Irish literature in English emphasises Gaelic Irish culture, most significantly the novels of James Joyce. Anglo-Saxon comes from the forms of Old German spoken in the areas the invaders came from in what is now the Netherlands, Denmark and intervening parts of Germany. One consequence is that the first great work of English literature Beowulf is an Anglo-Saxon, or Old English, epic poem set in what is now Denmark and southern Sweden. So the literary culture of the English speaking British is rooted in a tale from Scandinavia, though written down in England centuries after the events related, which can be given a rough historical location.

Anglo-Saxon England never established complete predominance in Britain. Viking invasions in the eighth century preceded the formation of an English state at a time when there was still an independent Celtic kingdom in Cornwall, turned into conquests and the establishment of Viking kingdoms. Though the Anglo-Saxons become predominant as far back as the sixth century, the generally accepted narrative of the English state goes back only to the ninth century. In the last decades of that century, King Alfred of Wessex (the west Saxons) in his struggles against the Vikings. Alfred, given the label ‘Great’ in the nineteenth century, a very remarkable figure in various ways, was pushed back into the hinterland of Wessex, but was able to defeat the Vikings in battle and negotiate terms that established a strong kingdom of Wessex, which came to incorporate London.

Wessex was the nucleus of the Medieval English state and Alfred’s grandson Athelston was the first all-England king, also receiving tribute and symbolic recognition of overlordship from Welsh and Scottish rulers, who nevertheless remained completely independent in practice. Athelstan was certainly not isolated from Europe, marrying his family into continental dynasties. The sense of English culture goes back further than Alfred, but not much further.

The northeastern English historian and cleric Bede, is probably the first ‘great’ English figure in Britain, dying in the early eighth century after composing a history in Latin rather than Anglo-Saxon. At roughly the same time Alcuin of York, the cleric and scholar, became an adviser to the Frankish (Franco-German) Emperor Charlemagne who dominated western and central Europe, reviving the title of Roman Emperor, or had it pushed onto him by the Pope. He was referred to as ‘father of Europe’ in his court and was the model of English monarchs including Alfred.

The only Anglo-Saxon king before Alfred who could be said to have lingered in national memory was Offa of Mercia (the centre of England) in the late eighth century, who seems to have made some symbolic claim to kingship of England, but whose kingdom was lost to the Vikings. The rise of the Kingdom of England was not completely straightforward as Vikings remained in England with their own towns, laws, and customs, and with Scandinavian princes still making claims in England. The consequence was a Danish King of England, Cnut (also known as Canute) reigning in England in the early eleventh century, along with varying parts of Scandinavia.

A rather confused period followed his death of English and Danish claims to the English crown, with other Scandinavian dynasties expressing an interest. This ended when the Saxon Edward the Confessor became king in 1042. However, this was not the triumph of isolated English sovereignty. Edward was heavily under the influence, even tutelage of the Duchy of Normandy, territory given to Viking invaders by the French king, which led to the invading Danes becoming completely French in language and other respects.

Edward was the son of Aethelred the Unready and Emma of Normany. Aethelred who was responsible both for gratuitous massacres of English Danes and losing the kingdom to the Danes, had fled to Normandy beginning an important connection. Edward died in 1066 childless, with the Duke of Normandy and the King of Norway both believing they had claims to the English throne that they fully intended to enforce through military might. The throne went in the first place to Edward’s most powerful subject, Harold Godwinson, because of the support of the Witan, the council of the king’s leading subjects, rather than inheritance or the wishes of Edward the Confessor. If there was ever a moment of isolated English sovereignty that might be it, but it was not to last more than a few months.

Next post, how England became part of a Norman and the Angevin French speaking empire

Flag Burning, the Bill of Rights, and Leaving America Behind: Fourth of July Special

07/04/201507/04/2015 Jacques Delacroix Current Events, Law constitutionalism, democracy, France, free speech, individual rights, individualism, legal theory, libertarianism, Montesquieu, separation of powers, United States

Yes, the American Revolution was special. It’s not yet uncool to recognize facts. You are entitled to your mistaken and unsupported opinions, however; this is a free country. (Not thanks to you!)

First, there were no massacres. It may have been different if Britain had won, I don’t know. The Loyalists were treated harshly in many places. Many lost their property. Many became the English-speaking root of that milder version of ourselves, Canada. Americans were so generous-minded however that they even allowed Hessian (from Germany) mercenaries from the defeated British army to settle among them. Try to imagine any of the formerly occupied countries in Europe in 1945 allowing Russian SS from the German armed forces to stay behind and prosper! (Yes, there were Russian SS, thousands of them.)

Second, the US Constitution was and probably remains the most clear, exemplary embodiment of the healthy political idea of separating powers, a major step in uprooting the habit of despotism. (I may be wrong but I think the desirability of the separation of powers my have been enunciated earliest by the French philosopher Montesquieu. The French themselves mostly made a mess of the idea.)

Third, it took an embarrassingly long time but American constitution-builders eventually produced a wise list of specifically enunciated rights. A bill of rights is a necessity to protect political, intellectual, and religious minorities and, especially, individuals from the potential, and the very real, threat of tyranny of the majority.

The next to try a bill of rights, the French, did it only a few months later, also in 1789. With the privilege of having Ben Franklin right there in Paris to lend a hand, with Lafayette – who understood the idea well – involved, they also screwed up that one. Most of them don’t know it to this day, I think, but the insertion of one sentence in their Bill has the potential to nullify the whole: “Art. 6. La Loi est l’expression de la volonté générale.”* “The Law, is the expression of the general will.” This general will, the will, the will of all, has the power to eradicate any of the individual rights carefully enunciated elsewhere in the same document. Correspondingly, today in France, there are concrete limitations on freedom of speech, for example, although freedom of speech is specifically guaranteed by the French Bill. These limitations were imposed in a carefully legal manner via acts of parliament, and signed by the president yet, they are still a form of despotism and a slippery slope. The little sentence above makes a constitutional challenge on these restrictions on speech difficult, if not impossible.

Incidentally, and going back to the US, there have been recent episodes of US flag burning by activists protesting – somehow – the Charleston church massacre. Go ahead, burn away, it’s your right so long as you don’t accidentally set afire a neighbor’s or public property! I feel forced to link this kind of petulant, childish behavior to a poll I saw recently that describes 50% of millennials as wishing to emigrate, to leave this country.** So, after voting massively for Mr Obama seven years ago, they want to escape the massive failures of his administration instead of staying put and contributing to reverse them. One the failures imputed to Mr Obama is wage stagnation. It has frozen many thirties-something in place, economically speaking. I am not sure it’s fair to blame Mr Obama but it’s done to every administration.

I know quite a bit about emigration/immigration as you might guess. So, I will presume to give potential emigrants advice: You may move to Australia, my friends. Australia will be glad to have you. The country is an admirably successful redneck project. You will enjoy the Australians’ great pubs. Of course, there is a good chance that the first night out to one of the pubs, you will open your mouths too wide. Then you may well end up beaten to a pulp in some dark alley. I don’t wish you such a fate; I disapprove of such rowdy behavior. If it comes to my attention, in the news or in the newspaper, I will not laugh openly. There will just be a little smirk on my face. Have a good trip.

* 1789 Déclaration universelle des droits de l’homme et du citoyen

** Ordinarily, I am the first one to point out that fewer than two convergent polls from respected sources is nothing. So, take this with two grains of salt.

Myths of Sovereignty and British Isolation, VII.

06/28/201506/28/2015 Barry Stocker History, Politics Czechoslovakia, Eurosceptism, fascism, France, Germany, Poland, Soviet Union, Spain, United Kingdom, World War II

This post continues from the last post‘s assessment of early twentieth century British military and foreign policy in Europe, in a series of criticisms of sovereigntist-Eurosceptic assumptions of Britain’s separateness and superiority in relation to mainland continental Europe, and is rather long because bad decisions of the 1930s had consequences in World War Two, making it difficult to split the periods into separate posts. After the Treaty of Lausanne of 1926, the most notable aspect of British foreign policy was appeasement of Nazi Germany from Hitler’s accession to power in 1933 to the German occupation of Czechoslovakia beyond the Sudetenland which Czechoslovakia had been forced to give Germany in autumn of 1938. Spring 1939 represents the point at which Britain (and France) abandoned the policy of Appeasement, which had left Germany rearmed, stronger, and larger, and mobilised for war.

There had been an associated appeasement of Fascist Italy, particularly with regard to its invasion of Ethiopia, the one African state which was fully recognised and fully independent at that time. Britain also acted to prevent aid to the Spanish Republic during the Civil War of 1936 to 1939 against the alliance of traditionalist conservatives and fascist Falangists led by Francisco Franco, though Franco received a high level of aid and military assistance from Germany and Italy. It would add too much to this long series of posts to get into the issues round the Spanish Civil War, but being as brief as possible it has to be said that the Civil War came about through extreme polarisation, sometimes violent, between left and right, and was not a simple case of a bunch of fascists overthrowing a model democracy. Nevertheless, the left was in power in 1936 due to elections, and was not in the process of abolishing democracy in Spain, which was abolished by Franco, including the destruction of autonomy of the most distinct regions of Spain, and associated cultural repression. This followed not only the use of military force, but many massacres of prisoners of wars and civilians. This is hardly a glorious moment for British influence in Europe, unless support for far-right dictatorship in preference for a highly stressed but real democracy is glorious, and does not really support any picture of a uniquely moral and beneficial Britain.

The policy in any case backfired in World War Two. Hitler was not willing to offer enough to Franco to tempt him to enter the war on Germany’s side, but in the earlier part of the war, Spain’s embassies and intelligence networks were used to subvert and undermine the British war effort, in addition to which, Franco sent a division of volunteers to fight under German command on the Soviet front. There were more than 150 divisions in the German invasion of the USSR, so this was a small contribution, but nevertheless a contribution to fighting a country then allied with Britain. There was just nothing glorious or admirable about British policy in Spain in the late thirties.

The less than admirable British (in partnership with France) policy towards Germany continued after the declaration of war on Germany, after the latter’s invasion of Poland in September 1939. No help was given to Poland and the only attack on Germany was a brief French assault on the Saarland which was not executed with any real energy, certainly not enough to detract from German aggression in Poland, and troops were withdrawn soon after the Fall of Poland. This was a shared failure of British and French policy, since it came under the Anglo-French Supreme War Council.

Germany was essentially unimpeded in invading Poland, with the USSR joining in after a few weeks. This was followed by the Phoney War, in which Britain and France failed to attack Germany at all though a state of war existed and Poland had been occupied. There was a passive policy of waiting for a German attack on France and other west European countries. The handing over to Germany of all initiative in the war of course had disastrous consequences. I will just mention one significant detail of the Fall of France, illustrating the failure of previous British (and French) policy: many of the better German tanks were in fact Czechoslovak tanks produced in what had become Germany after Britain (and France) abandoned Czechoslovakia in September 1938.

Winston Churchill’s refusal to negotiate with Hitler after the Fall of France was highly admirable and correct, but should not distract us from the reality of joint British and French failure and no sense of superiority over France is appropriate given that the German forces were faced by the natural barrier of the English Channel, and no one doubts that if the German forces could have got directly into southern England then the result would have been a military collapse at least as quick as that of France.

The British government’s refusal to negotiate did lead to the danger of invasion, which was averted by success in the Battle of Britain between the German and British airforces, on the basis of great bravery and determination from the aircrews and moral courage at the political level. The overwhelming majority of British people of all political inclinations take pride in that history and there is not criticism offered here of that attitude.

However, it is possible to take that attitude too far and inevitably the sovereigntist Eurosceptics do. Some individuals on that side might be a bit more careful and cautious about this, but certainly as a whole that attitude draws on the idea that British resistance to Hitler marks it as uniquely heroic and as somehow morally superior to those countries which were so morally weak as to become occupied, and which then collaborated with the Nazis in the sense that one way or another governments acceptable to the Nazis and willing to work with them appeared, and of course no other government could have survived in occupied territory.

The successful resistance of the British owes rather a lot to the seas separating Britain from the European mainland, the North Sea, English Channel, and the Atlantic Ocean. 1940 was probably too soon for Germany to organise a sea born invasion anyway, except though a total destruction of British naval and air forces which was not very likely. There was actually some demobilisation of German forces after the fall of France, and Britain was outproducing Germany in fighter planes, so Hitler was never really focused and committed with regard to an invasion of Britain. Had Hitler continued to concentrate on Britain after aborting a planned invasion in the autumn of 1941, when Herman Göring failed to deliver the promised quick and complete destruction of the Royal Air Force by the Luftwaffe, the situation could have been very different. The decision to invade the Soviet Union in summer 1941 meant that the vast overwhelming majority of armed forces were transferred to the east saved Britain.

Against the chauvinism of the sovereigntist-Eurosceptic approach, it should be noted that a part of Britain, or at least territory closely associated with Britain did fall to the Nazis without fighting and collaborated with German occupation until the general German surrender of May 1945. That is the Channel Islands, which are closer to Normandy in northwestern France than Britain and are not part of the UK, but which nevertheless are under the sovereign power of Britain and have no independence in defence and foreign relations. German forces landed in these islands and occupied them in 1940, because the British government decided they could not be defended and the King took on the duty of telling the islanders to offer no resistance. Local administration collaborated with the Nazis who used slave labour from eastern Europe in the islands. There was no provision land in the islands when the western Allies landed in Normandy in the summer of 1944 and the local collaboration with Nazi occupation went on until the final surrender of Germany.

We should not make light of the difficulties Britain had in defending or liberating small thinly populated islands of little strategic importance outside its coastal waters, but it has to be said that this little story does take some of the plausibility away from chauvinistic sovereigntist-Eurosceptic tendencies to turn World War Two into a story of British superiority over cowardly collaborationist Continentals. The very real suffering of Britain was small compared with the suffering of occupied countries, particularly in eastern Europe, and the courage of those who joined partisan and resistance movements in occupied Europe must command the highest respect, and surely even higher respect than that justly given to British leaders, ordinary people, and soldiers determined to carry on fighting the Nazis after the Fall of France.

Next post, Britain and Europe after Word War Two

Myths of Sovereignty and British Isolation, VI. From the 1832 Reform Act to World War One

06/27/201506/28/2015 Barry Stocker History, Politics democracy, Denmark, France, monarchism, Prussia, republicanism, Switzerland, United Kingdom

In this post, a look at comparative growth of democracy in Europe along with Britain’s role in World War One and subsequent European diplomacy.

Britain made some progress towards extending voting rights beyond a very tiny minority in the Reform Act of 1832, which was also a law to make constituency distribution relate to the population of the time, particularly the expansion of the urban population, abolish constituencies of a few voters where the MP was in practice appointed by the local dominant landlord and even out a very inconsistent voting system, reducing the number of people who could vote in at least one case. The overall right to vote was extended from about 5 per cent to about 20 per cent of the population, which did mark a genuine shift of power from the aristocracy and put Britain in a good place in terms of comparative voting rights by the standards of the time. Nevertheless, there was working class disappointment expressed in the Chartist movement which mobilised mass support, but was ignored.

The next major change came in the 1867 Reform Act, which did not introduce universal male suffrage, but did extend voting rights to a significant part of the urban working class. Universal male suffrage at the age of twenty-one did not come until after World War One, alongside suffrage at thirty for women, followed a few years later by voting rights at twenty-one for all women as well as all men. Denmark and Switzerland introduced universal male suffrage with meaningful pluralistic elections in 1848. France reverted to the lost revolutionary republican idea of universal male suffrage, though the meaning of elections was highly constrained by the rise of Louis-Napoleon Bonaparte to the presidency, which he transformed into the role of Emperor. Prussia, while reserving a powers to the monarchy and preserving the power of the aristocracy through a weighting of the electoral system to the highest tax payers, did introduce universal male suffrage in 1849.

The 1867 Reform Act in Britain still left it behind these countries, particularly as France became a pluralist democracy after 1870 and a unified Germany appeared in the same year (the events are linked by the Franco-Prussian war of 1870) with universal suffrage, but the same weighting towards the upper class within the Kingdom of Prussia, the largest and most powerful part of the new German Empire, which had a distinct and dominant status within the Empire. As we can see, discussion of the comparative growth of the suffrage and political pluralism soon gets into very complicated details, which also include questions of how much power elected bodies had in relation to hereditary monarchs, so that is the end of the examples.

Anyway, the general pattern is that though Britain was ahead of just about all of Europe outside Switzerland in giving power to elected institutions, there is nothing special or exemplary about the spread of voting rights in Britain. In the nineteenth century it was certainly republics, just Switzerland then France, which established the best situations, which certainly challenges any idea of a special virtue in the British combination of monarchy and parliament. The exemplary monarchical state was Denmark rather than Britain.

Moving onto the First World War, as has already been shown, British entry was not a re-entry into European politics after a complete absence after the Battle of Waterloo. Britain was constantly engaged in European affairs and would not have entered the Great War, if it had not been concerned enough with European politics to establish alliances and have a strong view about German armies invading France and neutral Belgium.

Who to blame for World War One and the question of whether Britain should have taken part are rather divisive questions across political distinctions, so it is difficult to talk about a unified sovereigntist Eurosceptic narrative here, or indeed any political tendency, however defined, having a unified narrative. So it can at least be said that World War One does not add to any claim to the innate superiority of Britain and if Britain was right to intervene, that cannot make it more morally admirable than France and Belgium. The intervention right or wrong certainly reflected British views of its own interests in keeping northwestern Europe, the land mass facing it across the seas, out of the control of a hegemonic European power

It can at least be said that even for those who think on balance Britain was right to come to the full aid of France and Belgium, the continuation of the naval blockade of Germany, part the armistice which ended the war into 1919 was a horrifying policy of suffering imposed on an already defeated and impoverished German population, depriving Britain of any claim to rise morally above the other European powers. In any case there is no denying that Britain was involved in European politics during the War and after in the Paris peace treaties, the revision of the Treaty of Sèvres, signed with the Ottoman Empire, in the Treaty of Lausanne signed with the Republic of Turkey in 1926.

Next post, World War II

Myths of Sovereignty and British Isolation, V: Britain and European Models

06/25/201506/26/2015 Barry Stocker History, Politics Camillo Benso, constitutionalism, France, French Revolution, Germany, Giuseppe Garibaldi, Giuseppe Mazzini, individualism, Italy, liberalism, Montesquieu, Napoleon III, political thought, republicanism, Risorgimento, Springtime of the Peoples, United Kingdom

The last post looked at how Montesquieu’s The Spirit of the Laws, the biggest classic of Enlightenment political thought, certainly in size and probably in importance, does not offer Britain as the model of liberty for Europe. Rounding off that argument, Germany produced its own important liberty oriented thought at the end of the eighteenth century in the work of Immanuel Kant and Wilhelm von Humboldt, in which they do not offer Britain as a model. Of course at this time Britain stood as an example of liberty, particularly in the exact period from 1792 when the French Revolution had turned highly violent and dictatorial, and European monarchies were tending to become more conservative-authoritarian in reaction.

Nevertheless, the opening phase of the French Revolution developed a much more complete vision of a equal citizens under laws they had made themselves through representative citizens than Britain itself. France was the home of great liberal thinkers such as Benjamin Constant (like Rousseau and Voltaire, Swiss in origin) and Germaine de Stael, who were horrified by the descent of the French Revolution into state terror and then Bonapartist dictatorship. Switzerland and the variety of German states within the loose structure of an empire (the Holy Roman Empire of the German Nation) gave them ideas for liberty.

Going back to Germany itself, there was a strong element of aesthetic liberalism, focused on the cultivation of individuality and individuality sensibility, which drew on the growth of German culture at that time and the history of many different states and state forms, that includes Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, Friedrich Schiller, and Friedrich Schlegel that had a European wide influence, including in Britain.

On the level of what was going in European nations during the eighteenth century is should be noted that the death penalty was abolished in the state of Tuscany in northern Italy in the late eighteenth century at a time when Britain was famous for widespread use of the death penalty, not just for murder and treason but for small crimes in property. The French Revolution inspired severe attacks on civil liberties in Britain and one of many rounds of state force to keep the Irish down, when the United Irishmen revolted in 1798 for Irish self-government.

Britain was largely ahead of the rest of Europe at the end of the wars with Revolutionary and Bonapartist France, but that was in large part because Britain had worked very hard to finance and encourage autocratic monarchies to take back control of Europe. Napoleon was no friend of liberty, though some British sovereigntist-Eurosceptics nevertheless celebrate him, as in Andrew Robert’s recent biography Napoleon the Great. Not for the first time a British sovereigntist shows signs of wishing to imitate European nations at times when they seem most aggressively sovereign, while holding to British separateness and superiority.

As the nineteenth century unfolded, Britain started as a nation where the existence of an elected parliament, a limited form of monarchy in the process of becoming a purely symbolic monarchy, and strong legal institutions allows a case for saying that Britain was leading the way in liberty, at least for those belonging to the most marginal and dominated parts of the state territory. However, that picture applies less and less after 1830, when the July Revolution put in place a system in France, under the Orléanist monarchy, comparable to that in Britain for promoting law, liberty, and commerce. It must be said that the preceding system introduced after the defeat of Napoleon under the restored Bourbon monarchy was directly modeled on Britain’s, but could not work like the British system, given the different national context. A lesson in the dangers of thinking that liberty can be exported and designed from abroad.

The 1848 cross-European ‘Springtime of the Peoples’ undermined the relative advantages of the British system further as republics and monarchies limited by constitutions were proclaimed in various parts of Europe. There was a big autocratic reaction reversing most but not all of this. Denmark made the most progress, with peaceful demonstrations leading to a constitutional monarchy and an elected national assembly. France reverted to autocracy under the Second Empire of Napoleon III (nephew of the famous Napoleon). However, the Second Empire did have elected bodies and however objectionable Louis-Napoleon’s seizure of sovereign power was, he was a moderate autocrat presiding over a continuing growth of civil and commercial society. If we look at models for liberty in Europe, Britain was certainly important, but so was France. Even under Napoleon III, France was a long way ahead of most of Europe in the liberties of its people and the vibrancy of the economy.

If we look at one of the most important events in nineteenth century Europe, the Risorgimento which turned Italy from multiplicity of more or less autocratic states, including the Austrian armies more of less resting on church domination of society and Austrian armies, into a unified nation; France was important in providing a model of a relatively secular liberal catholic society and in pushing for a more modernist liberal form of government in Italy. Napoleon III’s behaviour was opportunistic and designed to revive French power in Europe, but nevertheless he seems to have had a genuine sentimental attraction to the idea of a free and unified Italy. Camillo Benso, Count of Cavour, as chief minister of Sardinia-Piedmont was the major political architect of a unified Italy was impressed by both the French and British models. The ideological architect of the Risorgimento, Giuseppe Mazzini, largely lived in London and was impressed by the British type of constitutionalism and political culture, but nevertheless was also a republican and European federalist more influenced at the level of political thought by the French revolutionary and republican heritage. The military architect of the Risorgimento, Giuseppe Garibaldi, was popular in Britain, but belonged to the French republican revolutionary heritage, which he worked to spread in South America before returning to Italy.

Next post, Britain and Europe after the Springtime of the Peoples

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06/01/201512/20/2016 Brandon Christensen Links Bryan Caplan, EconLog, France, free speech, Irving Howe, Jadaliyya, Jesse Singal, JHIBlog, John Raimo, Ken White, Muriam Haleh Davis, Myriam Francois-Cerrah, New York Magazine, open borders, Popehat, postcolonialism, Richard King, scientific method, Sydney Review of Books, the Left

From the Comments: Why do France’s banlieues have 40% unemployment?

02/17/201502/16/2015 Brandon Christensen Comments, Culture, Current Events France, immigration, Karl Marx, libertarianism, unemployment

Dr Amburgey asks the question, and Dr J gives the answer:

Terry: Good question but the answer is implied: Policies that allow for much higher economic growth than has been the case since about 1985.

It’s hard to figure an explanation for persistent French economic stagnation that does not implicate government action (ACTION, not inaction). Two examples: Retail stores can only hold sales for twice two weeks in a year. (That’s as in “on sale.”) The government decides when the sales seasons take place all over France, at the same time, irrespective of local conditions. Yes, you read that right. Second example. An ideological battle has been running for at least ten years at the highest level of government about whether or not to allow large stores to be opened on Sundays. The pros just lost again! [but see Dr J’s update – bc]

I am a weak man, I can’t resist adding a third example: On Sunday mornings, you can buy delicious croissants in bakeries everywhere but they are not allowed to sell coffee! The cafes open late on Sundays. Dunking is effectively illegal in France for several hours every week.

The French political elite, almost all statist, seldom loses an opportunity to prevent employment from growing. Note that I am not especially blaming the current Socialist administration. There are almost no conservative parties in France today, have not been for many years. The word “libertarian” has no current French equivalent. (The French word “libertaire” is related but it means something else.)

French schools are mostly very bad. They are run by a centralized government bureaucracy.

Of course, economic stagnation is not about the children and grandchildren of immigrants specifically. It’s just that those least favorably positioned with respect to the job market tend to suffer most from stagnation. Children and grandchildren of immigrants are among those. If the French economy grew at an annual rate of say 2.5% – the current US rate, I think – even the children of immigrants in remote banlieues would see their employment opportunities multiply. At least, they could compete for something. There is not much leftist municipalities largely in charge of those immigrant-heavy areas can do, really. The best among them set up good soccer clubs, that’s about it.

Poor economic performance does not strike everyone equally. The offspring of immigrants are disadvantaged mostly for reasons that would not matter elsewhere, in Germany, next door, for example. I think racism and xenophobia play a small role. It seems to me that both were much much worse in the sixties and seventies yet, immigrants and their children had work then when the country’ s economy was growing at a normal pace.

Stagnation does not hit everyone equally: The outflow of graduates from the best schools (mostly engineering schools) is perceived to be so great that last year, the Socialist government created a new cabinet post for them. I suspect it’s to hold them back or to try and lure them back. Would I make this up?

Being an immigrant is just a potential basis for social organization (a la Marx). Being an immigrant from already secular Portugal or from Romania is not a good basis for such. Being an immigrant from a Muslim country (probably most immigrants to France) creates clear delineation because so much of Muslim culture is violated every day by ordinary French behavior. (Yes, some stereotypes are factually correct!)

Going back to your question about libertarianism specifically: I think that if 10 % of all government economic regulations were abolished suddenly, on a lottery basis, the French GDP growth rate would double immediately, with positive consequences for immigrants’ progeny, of course.

Terry you should read Delacroix (recently in Liberty Unbound). [“Religious Bric-à-Brac and Tolerance of Violent Jihad” – bc, again]

The rest of the thread is well worth reading, too, as Jacques and Terry size up each others’ views on the European Union.

How the Left Failed France’s Muslims: A Libertarian Response

02/14/201505/11/2015 Brandon Christensen Current Events, Links, Politics central planning, civil liberty, federation, France, immigration, knowledge problem, libertarianism, Muslims, neoliberalism, open borders, the Left, the Nation, Walden Bello

Walden Bello, a sociologist in the Philippines, has a piece up over at the far-Left Nation titled “How the Left Failed France’s Muslims.” As with everything Leftist, it was packed with mostly nonsense coupled with a couple of really good nuggets of insight. The nonsense can be explained by the Leftist urge to attribute grand theories that don’t involve an understanding of supply-and-demand to problems dealing with oppression. Below is a good example of another weakness of the present-day Left:

Failure of the French Model of Assimilation

In the “French model,” according to analyst Francois Dubet, “the process of migration was supposed to follow three distinct phases leading to the making of ‘excellent French people.’ First, a phase of economic integration into sectors of activities reserved for migrants and characterized by brutal exploitation. Second, a phase of political participation through trade unions and political parties. Third, a phase of cultural assimilation and fusion into the national French entity, with the culture of origin being, over time, maintained solely in the private sphere.”

What the technocrats didn’t face up to was that by the 1990s the mechanism sustaining the model had broken down. In the grip of neoliberal policies, the capitalist economic system had lost the ability to generate the semi-skilled and unskilled jobs for youth that had served as the means of integration into the working class for earlier generations of migrants. Youth unemployment in many of the banlieues reached 40 percent, nearly twice the national average. And with the absence of stable employment, migrant youth lacked the base from which they could be incorporated into trade unions, political parties and cultural institutions.

Impeded by ideological blindness to inequality, political mishandling of the Muslim dress issue and technocratic failure to realize that neoliberalism had disrupted the economic ladder to integration, authorities increasingly used repressive measures to deal with the “migrant problem.” They policed the banlieues even more tightly, with an emphasis on controlling young males—and, most notably, they escalated deportations.

Notice how Bello doesn’t challenge the fact that the French government has a model for integrating human beings into a system it assumes is already in place? That’s the problem in Europe (and Japan/South Korea), but instead of acknowledging this – or even recognizing it as an issue – Leftists throw in terms like “capitalist economic system” and “neoliberalism” to explain away the failures of the French state’s central planning efforts. Naturally the real threat according to Bello is a Right-wing populism rather than the widespread, unchallenged belief (including by Bello) that government can assimilate one group of people with another in stages.

Just keep government off the backs of people, and they’ll associate in peace (peace is not the absence of conflict, of course, but only the ability to handle conflict through peaceful means, such as through elections or boycotts or marches or consumption). Does this make sense? Am I being naive here?

Ceding power to a central government in order to integrate immigrants into a society in a manner that is deemed acceptable to the planners is going to cause conflict rather than temper it. Planners are beholden to special interests (this is not a bug of democracy but a feature; ask me!), and they cannot possibly know how their plans are affecting the individuals being planned for. Immigrants, left largely to their own devices (which include things like communities, religion, and creativity), are beholden to their own interests (again, which include things like communities, religion, and creativity). Which way sounds less likely to cause resentment all around? Again, am I being naive here? Am I knocking down a straw man? Is this really how European governments approach immigration and assimilation? Is this really how the US approaches immigration and assimilation? These are genuine questions.

An even bigger question remains, of course: how can Europe better assimilate immigrants? Open borders, discussed here at NOL in some detail (perhaps better than most places on the web), is one option, but in order for open borders to work you need political cooperation, and political cooperation means more than just cooperation on matters that interest libertarian economists. Thus, I argue for federation instead of plain ol’ open borders. Another option would be to have governments in Europe cease planning the lives of immigrants for them. This option is a very viable short-term policy that probably does not get the attention it deserves because Leftists are currently unable to see the forest for the trees. Exposing neoliberalism and capitalism is, arguably, more important than petty day-to-day politics after all.

The Saudis, the Holy Lands, and double standards

01/28/2015 Brandon Christensen Current Events, Politics, Religion Abdullah bin Abdulaziz Al Saud, France, Irfan Khawaja, Islamism, Israel, Jacques Delacroix, Liberty magazine, Policy of Truth, Saudi Arabia, Tashbih Sayyid

I know we’ve been linking to Irfan and the PoT heads a lot lately, but there’s a good reason for it. Check out Dr Khawaja’s thoughts on the recent death of King Abdullah:

The late Pakistani journalist Tashbih Sayyid, editor of Pakistan Today, put the point to me in this way: “Muslims complain so loudly about the Israeli occupation of Jerusalem and the West Bank. What about the Saudi occupation of Mecca and Medina?” It sounds like a joke, but it really isn’t one. He might well have added: What about the Saudi occupation of the Arabian peninsula?

Here’s an article on Saudi Arabia’s criticizing Norway’s human rights record. This criticism comes from a country where it’s illegal for women to drive. Of course, to be fair, Saudi Arabia is making progress. It abolished slavery in 1962.

I don’t agree with defenders of Israel who insist that the movement to divest from Israel is “anti-Semitic,” but I do think there is a double standard in the way activists think about and deal with Israel by contrast with Saudi Arabia. Saudi Arabia has all the features that members of BDS find objectionable in Israel. Like Israel, Saudi Arabia is guilty of systematic human rights abuses. Like Israel, Saudi Arabia gets massive and systematic U.S. support. Like Israel, Saudi Arabia exerts enormous influence over the U.S. government. The difference is just that Saudi Arabia is a lot worse than Israel on every relevant dimension.

Read the rest, it’s an excellent analysis as usual.

Jacques has a piece on Islam in France up over at Liberty that you might want to check out, too. He doesn’t make any new arguments that he hasn’t made before, and I don’t think he is advancing the conversation at all (see here and here, for example), but it’s still worth the read.

Great Review of Delacroix’s New Book

09/01/201409/01/2014 Brandon Christensen Books, History France, immigration, Jacques Delacroix, Peter Miller

For answers as to why a young man might wish to emigrate, we must turn to History, which in France is neither remote nor distant. While Americans tend to regard anything before they were born as irrelevant, Biography and History are intertwined throughout Europe, but nowhere more intimately than in France. Delacroix, conceived in Nazi-occupied France, though in one counter-intuitive episode delivered to safety by a German soldier, his own life and that of the nation are bound together even more intimately than most. And so France, he writes, was gripped by three ‘great sadnesses’ as he was growing up.

This is from Peter Miller, a fellow sociologist and artist (and also the author of this piece here at NOL). Read the whole thing.

You can find Dr J’s book at amazon here, or on the sidebar of the blog.

Global Warming and Scholarly Conspiracies, etc. Part Two

06/07/201401/26/2015 Jacques Delacroix Current Events, Religion climate change, corruption, France, global warming, melting glaciers, National Geographic, Nina Teisholz, science, scientific method, skepticism

In Part One of Scholarly Conspiracies, Scholarly Corruption and Global Warming, I drew on my own experience as a scholar to describe how the scientific enterprise can easily become corrupted for anodyne, innocent reasons, for reasons that are not especially cynical. I argued, of course, that this can especially happen in connection with such big, societal issues as climate change. I concluded that the findings of scientists do not, as a matter of principle, merit the quasi-religious status they are often granted. It follows from this that the Left’s attempt to stop any debate on the ground that science has spoken is grotesque.

I should have added in Part One that at different times in my career, I may have benefited by the kind of corruption I describe as well as having been hurt by it. Of course, one thing does not compensate for the other. Corruption is corruption; it constitutes more or less wide steps away from the truth whether I profit by it or whether it harms me. These things just add up, they don’t balance each other out.

Once you open your eyes, it’s not difficult to find gross derailments of the scientific enterprise. To be more precise, the transformation of limited scientific results into policy often gives rise to abuses. Sometimes, they are gross abuses verging on the criminal.

A recent book describes in detail how the slim results of 1950s studies that were obviously flawed both in their design and with respect to data collection were adopted by the American scientific establishment as policy. They resulted in a couple of generations of Americans being intellectually terrorized into adopting a restrictive, sad, un-enjoyable diet that may even have undermined their health. The book is The Big Fat Surprise by Nina Teicholz .

For most of my adult life, I limited my own intake of meats because saturated fats were supposed to give me cardiac illness and, ultimately heart attacks. I often thought something was fishy about the American Heart Association severity concerning saturated fats because of my frequent stays in France. There, I contemplated men of all ages feasting on pork chops fried in butter followed by five different kinds of cheese also eaten with butter. Then, they would have a post-prendial cigarette or two, of course. None of the men I knew exercised beyond walking to shop for pâtés, sausages, and croissants sweating butter (of course). Every time, I checked – often – Frenchmen had a longer life expectancy than American men (right now, it’s two and half years longer.)

Yet, such was the strength of my confidence (of our confidence) in the official medical-scientific establishment that I bravely followed my stern semi-macrobiotic diet even while in France. In my fifties, I developed Type Two diabetes. None of my four siblings who lived and ate in France did. I understand well the weakness of a such anecdotal evidence. And I know I could have been the one of five who hit the wrong number in the genetic lottery. (That would have been the inheritance from my grandfather who died at 26 of a worse illness than diabetes, a German bullet, in his case.) Yet, if there are quite a few cases like mine where siblings constitute a natural control for genetic factors, it would seem worth investigating the possibility that a diet high in carbohydrates is an actual cause of what is often described as an “epidemic” of Type II diabetes. If there are many more cases than there were before the anti-fat campaign, controlling for age, something must have changed in American society. The diet low on saturated fats pretty much forced on us since the fifties could be that societal change.

I am not saying that it is. I am saying it’s worth investigating, with proper design and normal rules of data selection. I am not holding my breath. I think the scientific establishment will not turn itself around until its biggest honchos of the relevant period pass away. Teicholz’s book may turn out to have many defects because she is more a journalist than a scientist. I am awaiting with great attention the rebuttals from the scientific establishment, or – you never know – their apologies.

And then, there is the old story of how it took twenty years for the American Medical Association to change its recommendation on how to treat the common duodenum ulcer after an obscure Australian researcher showed that it was almost always caused by a bacterium. (The story was told about twenty years ago, in Atlantic Monthly, I think I remember. You look it up.)

The de facto scientific establishment is not infallible but it usually wants to pretend that it is. It’s aided in its stubbornness by the religiously inspired passivity of ordinary people who were raised with misplaced all-around reverence for science and anything that appears, rightly or wrongly, “scientific.”

The climate change lobby, wrapped in a pseudo-scientific mantle still thrives in several policy areas in spite of most Americans’ relative indifference to the issue. Two of its main assets are these: First it is well served by irresponsible repetition of a simplified form of its message that amounts to constant, uncritical amplification; second, even well-educated people usually don’t pay a lot of attention to detail, don’t read critically because they are busy.

Now, I am not going to spend any time denouncing the myriad airheads with short skirts who add their own climate change sage commentary to their presentation of ordinary weather reports. (I am a man of vast culture, I listen to the same tripe in three different languages!) As I keep saying, I don’t beat on kindergartners. Let’s take National Geographic, instead, that justifiably respected monument to good information since 1888.

The October 2013 issue presents another striking photographic documentary intended to illustrate fast climate change. One of the photographic essays in the issue concerns, predictably, the alleged abnormal melting of glaciers. The talented photographer, James Balog, contributes his own completely superfluous, judgmental written commentary:

We know the climate is changing…. I never expected to see such huge changes in such a short period of time.

The guy is a photographer, for God’s sake! He has an undergraduate degree in communications. His credentials to pronounce on long-term climate change are…? Even the National Geographic, generally so careful about its assertions, couldn’t resist, couldn’t bring itself to tell him, “This is outside your area of competence, STFU!” Why not let the janitor also give his judgment in the pages of National Geographic? This is a free country after all. Most people simply don’t have the energy to notice thousands of such violations of good scientific practice.

Now to inattention, still with the venerated National Geographic. The September 2013 issue, entitled “Rising Seas” presents a truly apocalyptic future in case global warming is not controlled. As is usually the case with N.G. the article is chock-full with facts from studies. The article is also tightly argued. N.G. is normally careful about what it asserts. To make things even clearer, it offers a graph on pp. 40 -41 purporting to demonstrate a disastrous future for the earth starting very soon.

Being a leisurely retired man endowed with an unusually contrary personality, being furthermore well schooled in elementary data handling, I did the obvious with the graph, the obvious not one educated person in 10,000 would think of doing, or care to do. I took my desk ruler to the graph itself. Here is what I discovered:

Between 1880 and 2013, there was less than a one foot rise in the oceans level according to National Geographic. Of course, those 123 years cover the period of most rapid rise in the emission of alleged greenhouse gases. Imagine if National Geographic had an article entitled:

“Less Than Foot-Rise in Ocean in Spite of More than 120 Years of Greenhouse Emissions”

Many citizens would respond by thinking that maybe, possibly there is global warming but it’s not an urgent problem. Let’s take our time looking into the phenomenon more carefully, they would say. Let’s try and eliminate alternative explanations to greenhouse gases if we find that there is indeed abnormal warming. After all, how much of a rush would I be in even if I were convinced that water rises in my basement by almost one tenth of an inch each year on the average?

This is not an absurd mental exercise. The business of science is to try to falsify and falsify again. When you get interesting results, the scientific establishment (if not the individual scientist author of the findings) is supposed to jump on them with both feet to see if they stand up. Instead in connection with global warming, scientists have allowed the policy establishment and those in their midst that influence it to do exactly the reverse: If you see anything you like in a scientific study, try hard for more of the same. If you find something that contradicts your cause, bury it if you can, ignore it otherwise. You will get plenty of help in doing either.

Scientists have become collectively a complicit in massive anti-scientific endeavor with many religious features.

I am finally proofing the print copy of my book:

I Used to Be French: an Immature Autobiography.

La Complainte du travailleur francais immigré en Californie.

04/12/201401/09/2015 Jacques Delacroix Liberty Adam Smith, California, Californie, capitalisme, Emile Durkheim, France, Karl Marx

Voici, ci-dessous, le texte complet de mes memoires en Francais. Mes memoires en Anglais,- 400 pages – vont paraitre bientot: I Used to Be French: an Immature Autobiography. ($17)

Du métro Botzaris aux rives du Pacifique, ça fait quand même une bonne trotte. Bien sûr, je n’ai pas fait le trajet à pied ni en vélo mais cela m’aura quand même pris un demi-siècle, pratiquement. Physiquement, j’y suis arrivé plus vite que cela, bien sûr. Mais après avoir initialement planté mes pieds dans le sable, pour vraiment m’installer, pour m’y retrouver bien à l’aise, il m’aura fallu un bout de temps.

Que je parte là-bas, ça devait arriver puisque je suis né dans le quartier de Paris qui s’appelle (qui s’appelait?) « Carrières d’Amérique ». J’y étais donc bien prédisposé; c’était plus ou moins le destin qui le voulait! Par deux fois ou plus, j’ai donc mouillé mon ancre « Made in the dix-neuvième arrondissement » en Californie, cette fausse île merveilleuse et imaginaire qu’inventait Herberay des Essarts au début du seizième siècle, (à moins que ce ne soit l’Espagnol Rodrigues de Montalvo).

En réalité, je triche un peu en évoquant mon installation aux « rives » du Pacifique. En fait j’ai bien un modeste voilier dans le port mais ma maison n’a pas la vue sur la mer. Elle est même située à plus d’un kilomètre de l’Océan Pacifique. Il s’en est fallu de peu pourtant, d’un petit million de dollars, à peine. J’aurais dû être plus hardi à réclamer des augmentations. Ou alors devenir chirurgien-cardiologue. (Mais je n’en avais ni la patience ni le talent ni le courage, enfin, rien!) Ou bien, faire carrière dans la police locale – celle du shériff – avec une excellente retraite à cinquante-cinq ans et un emploi à mi-temps pour finir de payer les traites. (Mais je n’y ai même pas songé; c’est trop bête!) De toutes façons, avec mon accent francais, aucune chance d’être élu shériff; je serais resté employé et donc subalterne, (« Sheriff’s Deputy » – Oui, Sheriff, c’est un poste électif.)

Quand j’étais ado, à Paris on nous disait, on dit toujours aux jeunes, je crois: « Passe d’abord ton bac ». Moi, j’ai eu de la chance en devenant deux fois de suite non-bachelier. Le première fois, j’avais même obtenu la mention « Très mal ». On m’avait tellement seriné que sans bac on n’arrivait à rien que je me suis tiré en douce, presque sans prévenir.

Avant que je ne parte pour de bon, il y avait eu plusieurs aller-retour entre Botzaris et la contrée de mon choix, comme autant de rêves complexes et détaillés. Un jour, ayant raté le dernier métro, je suis parti à pied d’un bistrot des Halles pour rentrer chez mes parents, Avenue de la Porte Brunet, sur les boulevards dits « extérieurs », ceux « des Maréchaux ». Et puis, je ne sais pas trop comment, je me suis retrouvé à Sausalito en Californie. (C’est la petite ville charmante de Jack London, exactement de l’autre côté du pont dit du « Golden Gate ».) J’ étais assis au « No Name Bar », (au « Bar sans nom », comme son nom l’indique) à baratiner une blonde un peu grasse mais pas plus vulgaire que ça, somme toute. Un autre jour, j’ai quitté la cascade en béton armé des Buttes-Chaumont pour arriver, en fin de compte, au Grand Canyon, en Arizona. Tout près de là, j’avais acheté dans un Mont de Piété situé dans un réserve indienne un beau collier Navajo en argent et turquoise au motif dit de la « fleur de courge ». C’était un cadeau de mariage pour ma petite soeur, en France.

Par deux fois, pendant que je faisais mes études aux Etats-Unis, je suis vraiment allé rendre visite à mes parents à Paris. La première fois, faute de fonds, je l’avais fait en auto-stop. Je suis revenu ici, chez moi, en Californie, de la même façon. Bon, je suis bien obligé d’admettre que pour traverser l’Atlantique nord dans les deux sens je n’ai pas fait de bateau-stop. Je le regrette beaucoup. Quelle histoire cela ferait! J’aurais pu au moins essayer de faire la propreté sur un cargo pour payer mon passage. (Mon service dans la Marine Nationale, «la Royale », aurait suffit pour faire entendre au capitaine que je ne souffrais pas trop du mal de mer.) En fait, j’ai simplement acheté un billet bon marché sur un paquebot d’étudiants, une fois, New York – Le Havre, dans les deux sens. La traversée a été la fête à chaque fois. Le passager le plus âgé devait avoir environ vingt-cinq ans. Etre en croisière a un effet d’énervement sur les sens des jeunes filles, un peu comme Venise ; les jeunes filles reviennent souvent jeunes femmes des croisières en mer.

Le plus dur dans cette traversée n’a pas été le trajet Los Angeles-Chicago (la « Route 66 » de Nat King Cole ) comme on pourrait le penser. Le plus difficile, ça a été le tronçon Le Havre-Paris. C’est d’ailleurs une des raisons qui m’ont fait rester en Amérique pour de bon. Quand je poireautais au grand soleil de plomb, en plein été, dans le Midwest, les petites vieilles sortaient de chez elles portant un plateau de citronnade glacée à mon intention. En stop sur les routes de Normandie et d’Ile-de-France, les petites vieilles…rien. Que vous-dire? Et bien la vérité toute simple, tout simplement: En France, si on est inconnu, on est toujours un peu le Boche de quelqu’un.

Comme presque tous les immigrants, j’ai commencé par faire la plonge en Californie. C’est une expérience salutaire, égalitaire. A force de faire la plonge, plus tard mais assez vite, j’ai pu m’offrir le luxe de devenir plongeur (sous-marin) dans mes loisirs. J’ai même fait un petit livre la dessus avec un copain de plongée, américain de naissance lui, pas un livre sur la plonge, mais bien un livre sur la plongée. (Free Diving in California.)

Pendant un moment, pour gagner ma petite vie d’étudiant, j’ai même fait le guignol. Je ne veux pas dire que j’ai fait le con sur une estrade. Plutôt, j’ai appris aux enfants d’un centre de loisirs et de plein-air à fabriquer des marionnettes et puis à les mettre en scène. (Comme c’était un centre de loisirs juif, je me suis abstenu de mettre en scène la Nativité. Pas si bête!) A une autre époque, j’ai enseigné la natation à des bébés. C’est un attrape-couillon pour les mères super-compétitives de la classe moyenne, bien sûr. Il n’y a pas de bébés nageurs. C’est une question de développement musculaire. La plupart des bébés, si on les lâche dans la piscine, ils coulent à pic avec un grand sourire aux lèvres. C’est comme si ils se souvenaient de l’apesanteur dans le ventre maternel. Le grand sourire permet néanmoins de faire des photos impressionantes qu’on agrandit en affiches formidables, toutes truquées dans leur intention.

La deuxième fois que j’ai quitté la France en dehors des vacances universitaires, c’était pour de bon. J’ai laissé derrière moi, un très bon job (comme on dit en Franglais) dans la fonction publique, et aussi, la mort dans l’âme, le pâté de campagne. Mais, de l’autre côté, j’ai découvert le guacamole tout frais. On le fait en écrasant la chair bien mûre de l’avocat avec du jus de citron, plus des ingrédients secrets. Il y avait même des avocats qui pendaient au grand arbre d’un petite cour secrète de mon université. Je parle des fruits nommés à partir du Nahuatl, la langue des Aztèques cannibales. Les autres types d’avocat, ceux qui portent la robe noire, on les pend normalement à des potences.

Ici, en Amérique, il y avait des livres, des livres partout. On avait le droit de les toucher sans se faire engueuler par la préposée, même à la bibliothèque. Il y avait aussi des biblothèques partout d’ailleurs. Celles de la moindre petite ville contenaient plus de livres que, plus tard, la bibliothèque centrale du centre de Paris, au Centre Pompidou. Même dans les librairies on avait le droit d’ouvrir les livres, de les parcourir. En plus, on pouvait s’y asseoir confortablement pour boire du café tout en feuilletant les ouvrages qu’on n’avait même pas achetés, qu’on allait pas acheter du tout. Jamais vu, ça!

Tout seul aux Etats-Unis, au début, ça n’a quand même pas été facile tous les jours. Mais, il y avait les filles, des tas de filles, une avalanche de filles. J’ai même bien failli y laisser ma peau! Je ne veux pas dire que j’ai manqué mourir d’épuisement. Je veux dire que je risquais a tous moments de me faire trouer la peau par une balle bien placée. Enfin, je passe!

Pendant que tout le monde en France était « Marxiste » à ce moment-là, j’étais aux premières loges tandis qu’on transformait les vergers de pruniers (façon Béziers) en un immense parc industriel. Je veux dire le parc surnommé “Silicone Valley” qui a changé la vie pendant ma vie. En France, comme je l’ai dit, tout le monde s’affairait alors à devenir Marxiste ou à le paraître. Ceci bien longtemps après qu’il soit devenu impossible de prétendre ne pas être au courant des horreurs du Goulag ni de celles du « Grand bond en avant ». Ceci, alors que Fidel s’entêtait toujours et encore à mettre les homosexuels en prison, pour leur donner une bonne leçon.

C’était aussi au moment où son copain Che Guevara (« le fusilleur») allait libérer les paysans boliviens. Ces petits propriétaires terriens avaient tellement envie de libération qu’ils l’ont livré à l’armée. On connait la suite. Il aurait dû me demander mon avis, Che. J’y étais, dans la même Bolivie rurale, juste un an avant lui. (J’y étais grâce à une bourse de la Fondation Ford, les salauds !) Je lui aurais dit, au Che: « N’y vas pas, Ducon ». Il s’était avéré que le Che n’avait pas lu Marx, ou mal lu. Il en est mort. C’est ce que j’appelle des études rigoureuses, sans laxisme.

Il y avait aussi cette vieille salope de Jean-Paul Sartre, bien sûr, qui ne voulait à aucun prix désesperer Renault-Billancourt. Plus haut sur l’échelle sociale, perchait l’imbittable escroc de grande volée Claude Lévi-Strauss qui avait réussi à intimider plusieurs générations d’intellectuels francophones, moins deux (le courageux Jean-Francois Revel et le noble et digne Raymond Aron). A mon sens, Lévi-Straus avait construit une grande carrière universitaire exemplaire sur la base d’un tout petit livre de voyage charmant que tout le monde avait lu « Tristes tropiques » et d’une série de gros ouvrages aussi impénétrables qu’improbables que personne n’avait lus. Je ne me souviens que vaguement de cet autre intellectuel parisien, un philosophe, “Marxiste” lui aussi, qui avait assassiné sa femme. (“Nobody is perfect!”)

Disgression technique: Je ne blâme pas Karl du tout pour la lamentable bêtise de l’intellectuariat parisien des années 60, 70, jusqu’à 80. Non seulement il savait écrire, lui, Karl ; mais il savait aussi lire. Il avait même lu “La Richesse des nations” d’Adam Smith, ce dont on ne saurait accuser ses disciples hexagonaux. D’ailleurs, il avait pris soin de mettre les choses au point de son vivant. “Je ne suis pas Marxiste”, avait-il affirmé avant de mourir. (Marx, pas Adam Smith, Adam avait passé l’arme à gauche bien avant.)

Moi, pendant tout ce temps-la, je progressais sans états d’âme. Au beau milieu de l’un des derniers vergers de Palo Alto, du mauvais côté de l’autoroute, à deux kilomètres de Stanford, il y avait un petite château. Je veux dire un château d’eau tout en bois, comme un énorme tonneau sur échasses. La vieille dame noire entreprenante à qui il appartenait l’avait transformé en studio rustique, avec cuisinette et douche, qu’elle louait. C’est là que j’avais tranquillement rédigé ma thèse. On y montait par un long escalier de meunier en bois. On y entendait de loin, de tout en haut, le clapotement des talons des filles qui grimpaient l’escalier en vitesse parcequ’elles avaient pris sur elles de venir soulager ma solitude.

On disait de la localité qu’elle avait l’un des taux de criminalité les plus élevés d’Amérique. Moi, je ne voyais de mon perchoir que des abricotiers en fleurs, puis en feuilles, et une tribu d’écureuils gris. J’étais trop pauvre pour valoir qu’on m’agresse, ou qu’on m’y cambriole, d’ailleurs. Les malfaiteurs locaux, tous noirs, n’étaient pas racistes; ils volaient les riches et les presque-riches sans distinction de couleur. De moi, ils devaient se dire: «Il est complètement timbré ce blanc-la, descendant de son baril en pantalon du surplus de l’armée éraillé, avec ses liasses de paperasses sous le bras. Même ses godasses ne valent rien, le con!»

C’était juste après que je sois rentré d’enseigner à Hawaï, dans une belle île où on ne me payait pratiquement pas. Mais la plongée sous-marine y était fabuleuse et le soir, on allait contempler l’éruption volcanique à deux pas au lieu de regarder la télévision. Un peu plus tard, j’ai eu un doctorat, un «piechdi», comme on dit, les doigts dans le nez, sans blague. Je suis quand même resté inadmissible en première année des universités françaises. Je n’invente rien! A propos, mon diplôme était en sociologie, qui n’a à peu près rien à voir avec la discipline française du même nom. (En Amérique, on a bien suivi le chemin tracé par le Français Durkheim, Emile, en France, pas tellement.)

Il y avait du soleil presque toute l’année en Californie. Ce n’est pas la faute des Francais, bien sûr, ni même du Parti Socialiste, ni des fonctionaires, si leur pays se trouve à la latitude de Terre-Neuve (de Saint-Pierre-et-Miquelon, si vous préferez.) Mais cette septemtrionalité n’arrange pas l’humeur des ces méridonaux exilés que sont les Français. Sur moi, la brièveté de l’automne et de l’hiver californiens a fait l’effet des lumières de la rampe s’allumant d’un seul coup. Cela a transformé ma mentalité, la vision que je jette sur le monde, à jamais. La grande lumière m’a fait plus tolérant, plus entreprenant; elle m’a même rendu plus gentil, du moins, à la longue, du moins, dans une certaine mesure.

J’ai habité un moment à San Francisco-même. J’y faisais des affaires. Je faisais le conseil en commerce international. C’était juste après que mon livre (avec mon co-auteur, Eric Multhaup) ait gagné un gros prix francais. C’était un livre sur le quoi et le comment de faire des affaires aux Etats-Unis: « Les Clefs du labyrinthe. » San Francisco-ville, c’était gai jusque à ce que « gay » ait finir par signifier « triste » parce que tous les amis étaient en train de mourir du SIDA.

Je suis devenu prof finalement (dans plusieurs universités) parce-que j’étais curieux et paresseux à la fois. J’ai assez vite découvert ma vocation, ma mission d’enseignant. Elle consistait à faire admettre aux autres, aux jeunes comme aux moins jeunes, qu’ils étaient plus intelligents qu’ils ne le pensaient. Parfois, c’était à coups de pied au cul. Il faut ce qu’il faut! Je dis «aux moins jeunes» parceque, pendant longtemps, j’ai enseigné dans un programme de MBA où la moyenne d’âge des élèves était de vingt-huit ans. Cela se passait au beau milieu de Silicon Valley. Plusieurs des mes élèves sont devenus millionaires par la suite. Encore plus nombreux sont ceux qui ont simplement atteint une belle prosperité. Foutu capitalisme! Ça parait injuste! C’était moi qui donnait les notes, après tout!

J’ai passé quarante ans et plus dans les universités américaines, trente comme prof. J’y ai fait des travaux scientifiques tellement calés que je ne les comprend pas tous les jours moi-même. Et j’ai enseigné aux centaine, peut-être aux milliers, toujours les mêmes trucs, tellement peu de trucs que je pourrais presque vous les résumer ici. Pendant longtemps, j’ai assez aimé ce métier. Comme Socrate, je corrompais la jeunesse. De plus, on me payait pour le faire. On me payait aussi pour lire des livres. (C’est cela qui rendait difficile d’exiger des augmentations sur le ton indigné qui fait mouche avec les patrons.)

En fin de compte, ce qui m’a vraiment decidé à rester aux USA (comme on dit en Franglais), c’était la musique d’abord et puis, l’eau, ensuite. La musique, c’est assez évident. 90% de la gastronomie du monde entier a son origine en Chine ou en France. De la même façon indisputable, 90% de la musique, des chansons, viennent des Etats-Unis. C’est tellement vrai que rare est le film « Made in France » qui ne comporte pas au moins une chanson américaine. Les réalisateurs français se rendent bien compte qu’il n’y a plus de « cool » – comme on dit en Franglais – dans la chanson française depuis longtemps, depuis Brassens, au moins, depuis François Villon, le voyou-poète, peut-être.

Et l’eau maintenant. Dans toute mon enfance, dans toute ma jeunesse en France, et au cours de mes nombreux séjours dans mon pays d’origine, je ne suis jamais arrivé à ce qu’on me donne plus de deux glaçons dans mon verre de boisson fraîche (jamais, never, nunca, nimmer!) Pas à n’importe quel prix, dans n’importe quel établissement, aussi cher soit-il, à n’importe quelle heure du jour ou de la nuit. « Faut pas exagérer » pensent les garçons de café tellement fort qu’on les entend presque prononcer les paroles. Et aussi : « On n’a pas toujours ce qu’on veut ». Presque partout, en Amérique, on place un verre rempli de glaçons à côté de vous automatiquement dès que vous vous asseyez, même si vous n’en voulez pas (sauf sécheresse exceptionnelle).

Par ailleurs, il y a la cause des douches chaudes, vraiment chaudes, à durée indeterminée. On en rencontre en France, de temps en temps, j’en conviens, chez des particuliers et même dans certains hôtels plus ou moins mal gérés ou, par négligence, on ne règle pas le thermostat vers le bas. Pourtant, c’est toujours un peu la lotterie. La chasse à la douche chaude doit épicer la vie des Français, je me dis, sinon, ils auraient résolu le problème depuis longtemps. Ce n’est pas le savoir-faire plombier qui leur manque, en tous cas; ils ont quand même inventé le bidet.

Je suis persuadé que la vie, c’est la vie de tous les jours, que c’est le quotidien qui compte. Alors, mon idée simplifiée du bonheur, c’est de déguster, sans me presser, une boisson froide dans un verre rempli de glaçons assis bien à l’aise sur une chaise en bois, tout nu sous une douche brûlante. Un rêve à peu près irréalisable en France, je crois bien! Demandez-vous donc pourquoi. (Je ne vais pas vous le dire car je n’ai pas besoin d’ennemis supplémentaires, même loin de chez moi.)*

En vertu du même principe de ce que la vie, c’est la vie quotidienne, je tiens le compte des têtes de con rencontrées sans les chercher. Voici la définition scientifique d’une tête de con: C’est quelqu’un qui est désagréable avec moi sans me connaître assez bien pour avoir des raisons de l’être. Je crois bien que j’en rencontre plus en France en quinze jours qu’aux Etats-Unis en quinze mois. Les gens sont simplement beaucoup plus gentils, en moyenne, dans ce pays-ci qu’en France. (Même si on y tue plus qu’en France. On ne peut pas tout avoir, comme pensent les garçons de café.)

Je sais bien que la France est pleine de jolies villes pimpantes. En Amérique, par contre, la plupart des villes sont d’apparence quelconque et il y a souvent des détritus dans les caniveaux. Ça fait un peu Tiers-Monde, à dire vrai. Cela m’irrite, bien sûr. Et puis, je me rappelle que beaucoup de ces jolies villes françaises ferment trois heures avant le coucher du soleil en été. Ici, nos villes ont de l’animation. Les ville françaises, elles, ont des animatrices. Pas du tout pareil!

Malgré les apparences et malgré la distance, il y a beaucoup de continuité entre mon passé et mon présent, entre mon ancienne vie et celle d’aujourd’hui. Par exemple, à chaque fois que je gare ma voiture près de la Plage du Port à Santa Cruz, Californie, deux mouettes se relaient pour chier dessus en altitude. Je donnerais presque ma main à couper que ce sont les mêmes qui chiaient sur mon bus Volkswaggen quand j’étais hippie, brièvement, en 1967, au Portrieux (dans les Côtes d’Armor, autrefois mieux nommées: “Côtes du Nord” à cause de la température de l’eau de mer). Mais, je me raisonne. Ce n’est pas possible, ce doit être leurs petites-cousines.

«La France vous manque-t’elle, cher ami», on me demande à tout bout de champs? Oui l’île Saint-Louis me manque un peu, et aussi les côteaux de Bourgogne. Mais comme je n’avais été ni invité à l’une ni propriétaire dans les autres, ce n’est pas grave.

Ici, la banque et moi possèdons une jolie maison de style victorien sise exactement entre la mer et les sequoias. Mes grands-pères étaient encore gamins quand elle a été construite. Il y a dans ma cour arrière un pommier, un cerisier, un figuier, et deux citronniers, plus un prunier, qui donnent tous. (Heureusement, pour le prunier; il y a beaucoup de mecs de mon âge qui ont du mal à aller. Moi, ça va toujours pour aller mais on ne sait jamais. Un de ces jours je vais aller dans la direction où on ne va plus si facilement.) Le tout n’est déjà pas mal. A propos de rien: La police a capturé un puma derrière l’officine de mon dentiste il y a seulement un mois. Ici, on a su construire les villes à la campagne. (A propos, on a envoyé le puma, un jeune, un ado, en colonie de vacances dans la Sierra Nevada en lui interdisant de revenir.)**

Non, ce qui me manque vraiment parce que c’est introuvable et même inconcevable dans ce pays-ci, c’est la tête de veau sauce ravigotte. J’ai bien pensé à me la préparer moi-même en suivant une recette sur l’Internet (cette belle invention francaise. Ah, non, je me trompe, c’était le Minitel!) Ou alors, je pourrais essayer d’en trouver la recette classique dans mon exemplaire écorné de «La Cusine familiale et pratique» de Pellaprat (édition 1974).

J’aurais sûrement mis mon plan à exécution depuis longtemps si je vivais dans le Midwest où les gens sont plus conventionnels et plus proches de la terre. (J’en suis sûr, j’y ai habité quatre ans, en Indiana pour être précis.) En parlant d’éxecution, chez moi, à Santa Cruz, Californie, on est très écolo-sensible. Je saurais préparer une sauce ravigotte mais couper la tête du veau dans mon arrière-cour ne parait pas pratique, vu d’ici. La voisine de gauche, la garce qui a eu trois maris tués sous elle, appelerait les flics.*** Et je n’ai pas envie de devenir la préférée de la branche locale de Mafia mexicaine en prison, même pas pour une seule nuit!

Depuis longtemps immigré, j’éprouve une constante angoisse: D’un côté, la tête de veau ravigotte, et la tête de con, les paupiettes, la blanquette, le foie gras. (Ce dernier est franchement hors-la-loi en Californie, contrairement à la cannabis, par exemple.) De l’autre côté, un potentiel sans limites de créativité parmi des gens aimables, et des livres en abondance. Comme je vous le disais plus haut, on ne peut pas tout avoir.

Bon, alors, je m’arrête. Je voulais seulement vous donner une idée de mes souffrances existentielles de travailleur immigré. Et puis, il faut bien préciser avant de vous quitter que je n’étais pas parti m’installer à l’autre bout du monde grâce aux sous de Papa. (Il n’en avait pas de sous, Papa; je suis fils de flic.) Non, j’ai fait tout ça avec seulement ma bite et mon couteau (mon canif, quoi).

Pour finir, un mot de La Bruyère (dans « Les Caractères » : 80-IV):
«Ceux qui nuisent à la réputation ou à la fortune des autres plutôt que de perdre un bon mot méritent une peine infâmante.»

Ça, c’est moi tout craché (comme disait ma mère, Yvette).

* « The Watershed » Liberty Unbound June 2010 24-5.
** Ce n’est pas la première fois, et de loin, qu’un puma (un cougar) se promène par chez moi. Voir mon l’histoire vraie, le conte, sur ce mon blog : « Les Pumas de Bécon-les-Bruyères. » factsmatter.wordpress.com
*** Voir le conte : « C’est presque pareil partout. » sur mon blog.

Bientôt, d’une manière ou d’une autre, mes mémoires (quatre cent pages) vont paraître en Anglais. Suivez mon progrès et partagezle sur mon blog: factsmatter.wordpress.com

Le Contrôle des armes aux Etats-Unis ; l’essort économique français

03/28/2014 Jacques Delacroix Current Events, Economics energy development, France, gun rights

Un membre de la legislature de l’état de Californie est accusé par le FBI de traffic d’armes massif, des fusils d’assaut militaires, pour être précis. C’est un élu de San Francisco, ville notoirement de gauche. Il est bien connu pour ses campagnes bruyantes en faveur de la restriction du port d’arme (garanti par le Second Amendement à la Constitution des Etats-Unis adopté en 1789). Il va être mis en garde à vue incessamment. Il y a des brebis galeuses partout, après tout. En tous cas, a contrario, aucun élu notoirement favorable a ce droit constitutionel n’a jamais été accusée de quoi que ce soit sur ce plan-là.

Le slogan principal de ceux qui, come moi, désirent un population armée:

“Quand les armes sont hors-la-loi, seuls les hors-la-loi sont armés.”

L’évidence même!

Economie française: Selon l’administration américaine spécialisée*, le désert campagnard francais renferme 4 milliards de mètres cube de gas de schiste. Milliards! Ils sont tous fermés à l’exploitation à cause de l’influence des écologistes (dont le parti arrive rarement à percer aux élections). Il n’y a pas de travail pour les Français; c’est donc exactement le bon moment de garder bien enfermé à clef un outil de travail essentiel! L’élite politique française agit comme si elle vivait en 1978 avec, devant elle, des possibilités infinies d’essort économique.

Et puis, il ne faut pas chagriner Poutine!

*US Energy Information Administration

Refugies dans l’ irrealite?

11/21/201311/22/2013 Jacques Delacroix Comments, Politics commentaires politiques en francais, France, French cultural studies, welfare state

Pour des raisons techniques mysterieuse, je n’ai pas reussi a afficher une reponse au commentaire sur mon essai du 16 Novembre, “Une culture politique du n’importe quoi.” envoye par celui que j’ai nomme “Le Chouan.” J’en ai fait un essai a la place que voici:

Le chouan:

Bien sur, je suis tributaire de l’etroit menu en Francais disponible ici. Ce n’est pas grand-chose. D’ailleurs, j’interroge plus que j’affirme quand il s’agit de la France. J’aime bien “On N’est pas couche” pour une raison: Cette emission interroge en profondeur les homme politiques de maniere que je n’ai jamais vue ici, aux E.U. Et son presentateur me semble bien faire son boulot, quoique ce soit qui fasse flotter son bateau. (Traduction de l’Anglais.)

Le pessimisme de ton analyse force a se poser cette question: Comment est-ce qu’un pays de 60 millions, dont peu d’analphabetes, jouissant d’un plein acces a l’Internet, en est arrive a dependre d’un classe politique aussi nulle? S’agit-il d’une consequence d’une culture francaise plus ou moins constante ou plutot d’un deraillement. Dans le second cas, le deraillement daterait de quand?

Ou alors, assistons- nous a la gueule de bois qui suivrait trente annes de grandes vacances bien arrosees? Est-ce que la structure meme de la societe francaise rendrait l’acte de gouverner tres difficile?(Je mets en cause l’etat-nounou, bien sur, et le tout-subventionne.)

Voici une observation qui est peut-etre (peut-etre) liee a mon interrogation: Je suis en rapport avec un blog de lyceen parisiens intelligents. Ils s’expriment pourtant comme des militants communistes de 1953. On dirait qu’ils vivent dans une film, dans un mauvais film.

La societe francaise me donne d’ailleurs souvent l’impression d’etre une sorte de feuilleton. Je suis tous les jours absaourdi, par exemple, de constater les emprunts a la langue anglaises par des gens qui ne connaissent pas l’Anglais et qui possedent d’ailleurs une langue parfaitement viable. J’ai entendu avec mes propres oreilles un Francais plutot creatif utiliser le mot “gun.” dans une phrase en Francais. Cela m’etonne, bien sur, la langue francaise ne manque pas de vocable pour dire “arme a feu.” On dirait que beaucoup de Francais trouvent leur propre realite irreelle, qu’ils essaient de se refugier dans le monde des ecrans etrangers a leur proproe culture. Et ou les idees, exprimees dans une langue peu ou mal connue, sont mal saisies parceque elles sont rendues par la-meme insaisissables.

Je dis ca, moi, c’est pour causer.

Notes On Liberty

Spontaneous thoughts on a humble creed

France

Myths of Sovereignty and British Isolation XI, Norman, Angevin and Plantagenet England

Myths of Sovereignty and British Isolation, X. Anglo-Saxon England, the Scandinavian, Frankish and Norman connections

Flag Burning, the Bill of Rights, and Leaving America Behind: Fourth of July Special

Myths of Sovereignty and British Isolation, VII.

Myths of Sovereignty and British Isolation, VI. From the 1832 Reform Act to World War One

Myths of Sovereignty and British Isolation, V: Britain and European Models

Around the Web

From the Comments: Why do France’s banlieues have 40% unemployment?

How the Left Failed France’s Muslims: A Libertarian Response

The Saudis, the Holy Lands, and double standards

Great Review of Delacroix’s New Book

Global Warming and Scholarly Conspiracies, etc. Part Two

La Complainte du travailleur francais immigré en Californie.

Le Contrôle des armes aux Etats-Unis ; l’essort économique français

Refugies dans l’ irrealite?

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