>(coming along a couple of days later) the site has been moved or deleted,
>wanna summarize?

>:Dana

sure - here you go! :-) ...Patrick

In defense of those weenie Frenchmen 
 

By PIERRE TRISTAM 
ESSAYS 
Last updated: Feb 25, 04:10 AM 

I will get to French-bashing (and my defense of the French) in a moment. But
first, a clarification. My name's stereotypical triggers aside, I am not
French. Not even close. I am American by nationality, Lebanese by birth,
which makes me somewhat of a lingering Arab if not -- in some American eyes
-- a fifth, rather than a mere, columnist. That still beats being French now
that France has overtaken Iraq, al-Qaida, North Korea and liberals as
Bushazoids' favorite bete noire (that means "beasts worse than lawyers" for
you proud monolinguists out there). But I can't entirely disavow French
influence, which included, in my pre-American youth, French Jesuit schools
and their attendant priests, who may or may not have taken their traditional
liberties with my virtue (the repressed therapy brigades are still trying to
figure that one out) and, since my early teens, an exposure to French
literature that has proved fatal to my writing style, because it has lived
up to what Mark Twain said of French-addled hacks: "They always tangle up
everything to that degree that when you start into a sentence you never know
whether you are going to come out alive or not."

Hold the funeral. You've made it through the Omaha Beach of that first
paragraph. The reward is some sincere French-bashing of my own. Yes, the
French can be annoying (but so can Nebraskans, if you give them a chance).
Yes, they whine about American culture because it's all over the place while
theirs has contributed little more than freak poodles since Camus got into
that car wreck in 1960. It's no coincidence that deconstruction, a
philosophy that usually self-combusts in flesh-eating jargon, is the most
original concept to come out of Paris since. And yes, the French are the sun
kings of hypocrisy, blaming Americans for being bigots, imperialists and
war-mongers, but only because the French are nostalgic over losing their
market share in all three.

Remarkably, while America is suppressing the art of self-criticism it once
perfected, the French are busy reinventing it. The country is finally owning
up to its vast collaboration in the Holocaust and its reign of terror over
Algeria before 1962, and it is squarely facing up to the idiocy of its
anti-Americanism. Two books on the subject by two Frenchmen, just published
in Paris, are making it harder for the French intelliclass to take their own
anti-Americanism seriously. Jean Francois Revel's "The Anti-American
Obsession" and Philippe Roger's "The American Enemy" chronicle a habit of
anti-Americanism dating back at least to 1768, when a French scientist made
the strange claim that American dogs were inferior breeds and never barked.
>From France's superiority complex in the 19th century to its inferiority
complex under de Gaulle, anti-Americanism hasn't risen much above such
superstitious stupidities, making even rational criticism of the United
States difficult to take seriously. "By criticizing the Americans whatever
they do, even when they are right," Revel writes, "we Europeans lead them to
ignore our objections, even when they are well-founded."

But for all their contempt, the French alone among the major powers of the
last couple of centuries have never warred against the United States in more
than words. A few symbolic raids on McDonald's joints or some rather
commendable vandalism at Euro Disney aside, the hostility has been
exclusively rhetorical, and almost exclusively intellectual. It thrives
because it helps deflect attention from the decay of French culture and the
impotence of European foreign policy. It's mostly irrational, often
entertaining, never harmful, which explains why Americans generally have
never paid much attention -- until this year.

Why the difference? Because for once in their inglorious history of
anti-Americanism, the French are right. A second Gulf war has been built up
into a false necessity on false claims for the wrong reasons. It may
"liberate" a people, but not before clobbering them first, then saddling
them with an American mandate they won't, and shouldn't, abide, in the heart
of an Arab world more ready to transition to Mohammedan medievalism than to
Jeffersonian democracy. The war will be fought at the expense of a more
urgent world offensive on terrorism, and in conflict with four centuries of
international law: Pre-emptive war absent an immediate threat is the stuff
of rogues. Regarding Iraq, the United States is the rogue and France,
ludicrously, the world's conscience.

Much is being made of France's chumminess with Saddam. The myth-barkers
would have you believe the preposterous suggestion that France has more to
lose from its $700-million-a-year trading with Saddam, or even $1 billion in
gestating contracts, than from its $50 billion trading relationship with the
United States. But who are Saddam's real chums? The U.S. bought $5.82
billion worth of oil from Arab Adolf in 2001 alone. Chances are, that last
trip you took down I-95 was made possible by Saddam's oil. Yet Americans
drunk on Bush and Limbaugh persist in peddling the myth of France's lapping
at Saddam because it effectively obscures how Ronald Reagan and the first
George Bush, with then-special envoy Donald Rumsfeld, fed Saddam the
weapons, the dollars and the chemicals to fight Iran in the 1980s -- and
rain chemical hell on Iranian soldiers and Iraqi civilians. The Reagan-Bush
junta built Saddam into the monster that he is. They'd rather not be
reminded.

Just as the French have used anti-Americanism to deflect attention from
their own irrelevance over the years, French-bashing is now being used to
deflect attention from the rot at the core of Bush's Iraq obsession. The
French argument against war is more reasonable, more Jeffersonian, than the
Bush administration's argument for war. But the French are America's bread
and circuses of the moment, an entertaining device to numb and stupefy, to
guard against questions and doubt, against too much prying about that
skeleton in Rumsfeld's closet, glowing there since his chummy days with
Saddam, and not from Day-Glo.

For all the supercilious jokes about their hairy armpits and lousy hygiene,
it is those Roquefort-rotting French -- those Euroweeny cowards, those
weaselly wimps who've lost their moral compass, those hoary Europeans, those
surrender monkeys, to quote what passes for American journalism these days
-- who are sanity's last line of defense. So with American opposition gone
AWOL, probably in Vichy, cue up "La Marseillaise" (or at least "La vie en
rose") and thank heavens for the French. Le Monde, the French national
newspaper, ran a famous headline the day after Sept. 11: "We're all
Americans." It wouldn't hurt for us all to be French for a while. It will
hurt if we persist in being such Bush-bogged Americans.

Tristam is a News-Journal editorial writer. Reach him at [EMAIL PROTECTED]

 
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