I arrived back in France yesterday after two weeks in the US, chez la famille in North Carolina and with visits to Washington coming and going. I was in DC on Saturday and participated bien évidemment in the Women’s March—which was, of course, a march for everyone, a march of citizens resolutely opposed to the new tenant in the White House and all that he and his extreme right-wing party—now in control of two of the three branches of government (and soon the third)—represent—not to mention to what he and they say they want to do now that they have been blessed with the divine surprise of November 8th. The march was exhilarating. It was clear beforehand that it would be huge, and it was. In my social milieu everyone planned to participate, in Washington or, if they couldn’t make the trip, the cities where they live. Everyone has seen images of the event, and just about everyone who was there took photos on their smartphones. I took a few dozen, which I’ve put in an album that may be viewed here. And, if one somehow missed it, I was interviewed on France 24 on the Mall (video here).
America is a deeply divided society, as one knows, more so than France nowadays. I feel no connection to or affinity with that part of America that voted for Trump. I have nothing to do with those people. And they have and want nothing to do with people like me. For them, I and just about everyone I know are, if not the enemy, the Other. Those who participated in Saturday’s marches—in person or in spirit—are the Americans with whom I identify. This is my America. And I felt this viscerally the Sunday before last, at a rally of some two hundred people in Raleigh NC to defend the Affordable Care Act. I took a few pics of this, which may be viewed here. L’Amérique progressiste et ouverte. L’Amérique qu’on aime. Mon Amérique.
I spent five days in Washington on my arrival in the US two weeks before D-Day, visiting with friends, old and newer. The political catastrophe that has befallen America—and the world—was, of course, a major topic of discussion.The DC friends I saw work for NGOs, labor unions, think tanks, are federal civil servants (at the Justice Department and the Pentagon), academics and scholars, social workers, lawyers… Everyone said the same thing: they were devastated by the election result, could not wrap their heads around the imminence of the unspeakable one’s accession to the presidency, had no idea what was going to happen, and feared the worst. And this was the view of everyone they knew. And now that the unthinkable has happened—with the unspeakable person now in the White House—the worst is underway.
À suivre, malheureusement.