America Takes A Haircut
I remain in France. Today, we drove most of the day, first heading west from Toulouse to see what that was like (boring, farmy), and then turning around and heading east to Albi, a smallish but cute city in the same region. And wouldn’t you know it - we get to Albi, what do I see? As I wrote a few days ago, the French throw up hair salons the way Italians do cathedrals. They’re everywhere, on nearly every corner. If it’s not a kebab shop selling French “tacos,” it’s a hair salon. How are there so many licensed hair stylists in one modestly-sized Marxist utopia?
They may say this is the nation of liberty, equality, and fraternity, but like in the US, there are plenty of French nationals who have never been accepted by the old guard (white, nativist) French. Perhaps they should change the slogan to “Liberté, égalité, coiffure.” Not nearly as catchy but more apt.
There is some irony being here this week. No nation is more responsible for America’s independence than this lovely country.
It was France who, more than any other nation, subsidized the Revolutionaries’ fight against the British crown. It was France who, as early as 1776, sent men and materiel. In 1778, it was France that signed two treaties with the Americans, one recognizing the nation’s independence, the other establishing diplomatic and commerce relations between the two nations. It was the French who sent ships and military commanders and men. And then, only a few years after the Americans secured our independence, the French used our revolution as inspiration to overthrow a monarchy of their own.
France, too, has dabbled with ultra-right politics in recent years, although when the founder of National Front, their most reactionary political party, died a few weeks ago, the French took to the streets to celebrate his death, causing the current Interior Minister to upbraid the celebrants, saying “Nothing, absolutely nothing justifies dancing on a corpse.”
C’est la vie.
As we begin our second go-round with the Mouth That Roared, I’m doing my best to remain en garde against the kind of preemptive obeisance that felled those Masters of the Universe, the billionaire’s boy club sitting cheek by jowl at the foot of their king. How mortifying for them that their money cannot insulate themselves against the most bootlicking subservience. These mighty captains of industry do not even have the intestinal fortitude to remove Trump’s boot from their own assholes? These are the guys who are going to usher in the new American golden age? Please.
Perhaps they would argue they’re doing what they believe they must to protect their companies against the potential onslaught of an administration with a litigious bent. But what’s the point of becoming the world’s first, second, and third richest people if you cannot use your money and influence as leverage against, say, fascism?
Yes, discretion is sometimes the better part of valor, but sometimes valor is the better part of valor. Courage is not what we do when we have nothing to lose; it’s what we do when we have everything to lose. It’s what we do when our values are being assailed. What is worth fighting for? If not your values, then what? On the other hand, if you don’t have values beyond money, then I apologize. I hope one day you have enough.
The subject of the inauguration did not come up with anybody we’ve spoken to in France, save one young salesman we met in Toulouse. He was asking us about our lives in America and what brought us to his country. I don’t remember exactly the context, but somehow the word “Trump” popped out of his mouth, embarrassing us all.
How is it that we’ve now devolved to a stage in our nation’s history when merely uttering our leader’s name produces international winces? Perhaps the salesman regarded my wife and I – two relatively affluent, middle-aged, white Americans – and found himself unsure, despite our obvious savoir faire, where we stood on the delicate subject of our nation’s president. Then again, perhaps we did not know his views on the subject, either.
Our own embarrassment mirrored his. What does one say? The French are more reserved than us, so it seemed indelicate to respond the way I wanted, with a hearty “F that guy.” Instead, we shrugged and shook our heads.
Is that what the French call ennui?
There’s no point in rehashing the list of cruel executive orders issued from the pen of our new president on his first day in office. People’s lives are already being upended for no good reason. American lives. We fought a revolution to ensure that no man or woman could ever sit upon an American throne. We did so with the help of many nations, several of whom, in turn, established their own democratic governments in the years that followed. What do they see when they look at us now? It’s hard to say that the shining city on the hill has lost its light, but today that light has dimmed.
I write today from France, and since I cannot comfort myself with the words of my fellow countrymen who have, again, stormed The Capitol, I reach instead for that familiar French credo. We American patriots – and by “patriots” I mean those who still believe in the words enshrined in our founding documents – would do well to hold these three words close as we confront the cruelty to come.
Liberté, égalité, coiffure.
I enjoyed this note so much. You are a hard hitting but lovely writer.
This passage says it all “Yes, discretion is sometimes the better part of valor, but sometimes valor is the better part of valor. Courage is not what we do when we have nothing to lose; it’s what we do when we have everything to lose. It’s what we do when our values are being assailed. What is worth fighting for? If not your values, then what? On the other hand, if you don’t have values beyond money, then I apologize. I hope one day you have enough.”