French politicians dictated history, too
“Texas — It’s bigger than France.” This bumper sticker seemed to be a standard feature on pickups when I moved to Texas in 1989. As a professor of French history, I was confused by the claim. Yes, Texas was bigger than France by about 20,000 square miles — the equivalent of 20 King Ranches. Sure, I got that it was a statement of Texas pride.
But why France and not, say, Sweden or Spain. Was it because the Eiffel Tower in Paris, France was taller than the one in Paris, Texas? Or that 1989 marked the 200th birthday of the fall of the Bastille and not the Alamo? Who can say?
Still, the bumper sticker came to mind when I first learned about House Bill 3979. By now, most Texans — and many non-Texans — know this is the bill that Gov. Greg Abbott signed last month that dictates how teachers can talk about the history of racism and current events. Among the law’s provisions is that history teachers must describe slavery and racism as “deviations from, betrayals of, or failures to live up to, the authentic founding principles of the United States.” Moreover, they must “strive to explore the topic from diverse and contending perspectives without giving deference to any one perspective.”
This is not all. Our state legislators must also strive to add yet more provisions. Declaring the bill was just a start, Abbott instructed his fellow Republicans that “more must be done” during the current special session. I suggest they consider how another conservative government — one that did not speak Texan — also decided to legislate how history should be written and taught.
Enter all 248,573 square miles of France. In 2005, France’s national assembly, dominated by conservatives, passed a law that included a provision requiring high schools to devote sufficient attention to “the positive role of the French presence overseas.” Not surprisingly, the most ardent supporter of this provision was Interior Minister Nicolas Sarkozy, an ambitious opportunist whose eyes were on the prize of the presidency, up for grabs two years later.
It turned out it was as difficult to make the case for the positive role for the particular institution of French colonialism as it is to make a similar case for the peculiar institution of American slavery. Predictably, conservative politicians pointed to the infrastructure and institutions that French colonizers had brought to these countries.
No less predictably, they failed to point to the inequities and inequalities imposed on those who built those structures and were subjected to those institutions. One French commentator remarked that a German nationalist might as well claim the Final Solution was the necessary price for the autobahns and Volkswagens built by Nazi imperialism.
While the comparison is unfair, it is fair to point out that apologists of French colonialism misrepresented the nature of French colonialism. The outrages committed against Arab, Berber and Black peoples was not an unfortunate by-product of colonialism. Instead, it was part of the project. “La mission civilisatrice” — the grand phrase for French imperialism — was largely “la mission destructive” for its recipients.
How could it be otherwise? It was a program and practice founded on the belief in the fundamental inequality of human beings. In places like Algeria, road and city building was not a mission to bring over civilization, but instead a mission to bring back riches to France.
This, in part, explained the widespread anger in France — not to mention in Algeria — over the provision. In an open letter, a group of prominent historians described the provision’s mandate as an “official lie obscuring the crimes, massacres and even genocides” committed overseas by earlier French governments. Not only would this fuel the flames of nationalism, but it would also forbid use of the tools that could extinguish them.
The critics were soon joined by President Jacques Chirac, who as a French army officer had fought (and been wounded) during Algeria’s bloody war of independence. He ordered the provision’s withdrawal, declaring that politicians must not dictate how history should be taught or written. As a real conservative, Chirac knew the provision reflected the practice of totalitarian, not democratic societies. No less important, as a war veteran he knew the reality behind France’s civilizing mission.
During this controversy in France, then-President George W. Bush extended an invitation to Chirac to visit his ranch in Crawford. “If he wants to come and see cows, he’s welcome to come out here and see cows.” Unfortunately, despite Chirac’s interest in farming — he had served as a minister of agriculture and his family hailed from the Corrèze, France’s own cow country — Texans never did have the chance to welcome him to the 268,597 square miles of our state.
But we can still welcome Chirac’s wise advice that politicians should never dictate the writing and teaching of history. Texas will always be bigger than France, but this hardly means that we should also be dumber.