Much has been going in North America lately, events setting in motion a rather vast set of political changes. While life will continue as normal for many, the extremes of polarity that have built up between camps of ideology and alliance grow farther and farther apart. At this point, I could easily turn this into a political blog, but there really is no point to such a disservice. Rather, consider that American Voyages has always been about exploration and trying to paint a picture about the context of our history. As a radical centrist, its, well, my "thing". I'm also something of a royalist, at least in a constitutional sense; it's amazing what an un-elected political leader can do to keep a bunch of elected political leaders at bay. The colonials in the thirteen colonies at first felt the same way; their grievance was with a bloated Parliament and its military-industrial machine. In fact, they even sent a petition just to George III to ask for his help in dealing with Parliament.
That said, I'm in no hurry to see a king set up, deposed, or necessarily even considered for appointment. But there are those out there who very much are. France, much like the United States, is currently undergoing a period of cultural introspection, brought on by a number of different factors. Extremist populist movements are no less prevalent there, as they have been now for quite some time. A minority within the far right of the country has been quietly calling for the restoration of the Bourbons to the throne. This past Saturday, the anniversary of the execution of Louis XVI, a memorial Mass was held in Paris at the Basilica of Saint Denis, the French equivalent of Westminster Abbey. These faces should look fairly familiar:
They were the last monarchs before the first French Revolution. Their descendants live on, as do their supporters. I leave it up to each person to decide whether they were right to have been killed; personally, I think they made their own fate possible, even while I think that the revolutionaries were overreaching themselves. They tried to flee and attack their own country, just as James II did so in Britain a hundred years before them. They made little room for compromise, or at least made it a secondary concern, much as the last Catholic king of Britain did. This was par for the course as far as the Bourbons (and Stuarts) were concerned. Louis XIV started the process by trying to unify his kingdom through the sheer blunt instrument of an absolute monarchy. He definitely had his reasons: his uncle Charles I lost his head over not gaining dominance over Parliament. The Bourbons would ensure that their majesty, wealth, and power would put the nobility in their place. The problem was, the nobility could be kept in check by ostentatious displays of the glory of the state. The common folk, however, saw it as an affront to their very struggle for existence.
Populism toppled a regime in France, just as it had transformed a regime in Britain, just as it would change the game in the colonies and Mexico, just as it made the first half of the 20th century a rather terrifying era to live in... just as it keeps doing to this day. While we need not and indeed should not be slaves to historical memory, we certainly should be aware that it has a lot to teach us, inspire us with, and warn us against.
For my part, I definitely see January 21st as something of a feast day, even while I would throw my support behind Henri d'Orleans and the Orleanist line of succession rather than the Bourbon. That day in 1793 was a day to be remembered and pondered on for anyone serious about historical memory. That day was a day in which both the Bourbons and the New Regime failed France, failed themselves, and was a day in which the dangers of extremes became truly painful and divisive, not just here but in a new American nation. Jeffersonians and Hamiltonians, Anti-Federalists and Federalists started rallying behind supporting Republican France or divorced Mother Britain, even as they were more definable by preexisting theories of government. People love a cause. People love to get behind "Change we can believe in" just as much as they love to get behind "Making America great again". Centrists like Benjamin Franklin, and later, a man very much touched by his aggravating advice, John Adams, would try to acknowledge passion even as they supported a little bit more sanity. Mr. Adam's epitaph does not proclaim "I did for the dream of a strong central government", it reads:
"Here lies John Adams, who took upon himself the responsibility of peace with France in 1800."
Isolated from his enemies and his former architect of power, Alexander Hamilton, Mr. Adams found his life to be one of a dreamer of change who ended up simply wanting others to have the freedom to dream of their own change or stability. In the history of my country, there was Guy Carleton, the first Baron Dorchester. You see, even while I take interest in the revival of interest in a French monarchy (and the French do love their freedom even while they idolize "kings" like Napoleon and De Gaulle, because they are as into populist excitement as much as the Americans), I already have a monarch, Queen Elizabeth. Her predecessor George III had the wisdom to see Lord Carleton as "a sensible man" who could effectively manage newly British Canada. He saved my culture, managed to keep Canada out of the colonial cause for independence and helped create English speaking Canada by shepherding loyalists out of the United States when the war was over. For her part today, the Queen has served as a place for rival camps in British politics to find at least a ceremonial common ground. In 2011, she even became the first British monarch to visit Ireland as a guest rather than a general leading troops. She is an ironic symbol, I think, for an alternative to the personalization of politics.
But what we all have is a shared history, progressives, conservatives, moderates, Caucasians, African-Americans, Native Americans... even while we still attend rallies to see a man of powerful presence in a red hat... or stand our ground in the cold as a pipeline threatens to cross close to our native land. In Paris, a Requiem is celebrated for a long dead king, perhaps to stir up some concept of patriotism, even as others march against this and other visions of what they deem repression. Lately, all sides seem to be calling their opposition the oppressor.
The king is called to the scaffold yet again; this time he is embodied in no single individual. This is in many ways the perfect time to read 1984, and not because the "other side" is your enemy personified in Big Brother. May passion inspire us, not rule us!
