This article is from the source 'nytimes' and was first published or seen on . It last changed over 40 days ago and won't be checked again for changes.
You can find the current article at its original source at http://www.nytimes.com/2014/07/30/opinion/sylvie-kauffmann-france-remembers-world-war-1.html
The article has changed 2 times. There is an RSS feed of changes available.
Previous version
1
Next version
Version 0 | Version 1 |
---|---|
France Remembers World War I | France Remembers World War I |
(30 days later) | |
PARIS — On the evening of Aug. 2, 1914, two Frenchmen, Edouard Luthard and his son Maurice, said farewell to their relatives and friends on the platform of the Montpellier station, in the south of France, and boarded a crowded train to join their respective regiments as they answered the call-up for mobilization. | |
Edouard, 46, was a career officer. Maurice, 23, a student of French literature at the Sorbonne, learned of the declaration of war, on July 28, while on vacation at his family’s country house in Gignac, near Montpellier. | Edouard, 46, was a career officer. Maurice, 23, a student of French literature at the Sorbonne, learned of the declaration of war, on July 28, while on vacation at his family’s country house in Gignac, near Montpellier. |
“We were to ride the train together to Nîmes,” Edouard wrote several years later. “There, Maurice would head North to his regiment, the Meuse, while I would go on to Avignon and then Briançon. Our farewell was movingly simple. Soon beyond Lunel, I took Maurice’s hand and held it until we reached Nîmes. There, we hugged each other for a long time, unable to utter a word. Words were of no use. Then Maurice got off the train. He turned toward me, said, ‘Father, I will do my duty,’ and disappeared into the very dense crowd on the platform. When the train left, I closed my eyes and, with a heavy heart, thought of the situation, of what might be its consequences for those who were dear to me and particularly for my son, that tall handsome young man who was going to be thrown into the battle.” | “We were to ride the train together to Nîmes,” Edouard wrote several years later. “There, Maurice would head North to his regiment, the Meuse, while I would go on to Avignon and then Briançon. Our farewell was movingly simple. Soon beyond Lunel, I took Maurice’s hand and held it until we reached Nîmes. There, we hugged each other for a long time, unable to utter a word. Words were of no use. Then Maurice got off the train. He turned toward me, said, ‘Father, I will do my duty,’ and disappeared into the very dense crowd on the platform. When the train left, I closed my eyes and, with a heavy heart, thought of the situation, of what might be its consequences for those who were dear to me and particularly for my son, that tall handsome young man who was going to be thrown into the battle.” |
Indeed, Maurice Luthard was soon thrown into the battle. He was killed two weeks later. | Indeed, Maurice Luthard was soon thrown into the battle. He was killed two weeks later. |
Edouard Luthard was my great-grandfather. My grandmother was Maurice’s sister; I grew up with pictures of this “tall handsome young man” on the mantle in her house. One day, rummaging in the attic with my cousins, we stumbled upon an old notebook with a handwritten title, “Memories of My Military Career.” It was Edouard Luthard’s story of the war, which included this poignant description of a historic day for France, 100 years ago. | Edouard Luthard was my great-grandfather. My grandmother was Maurice’s sister; I grew up with pictures of this “tall handsome young man” on the mantle in her house. One day, rummaging in the attic with my cousins, we stumbled upon an old notebook with a handwritten title, “Memories of My Military Career.” It was Edouard Luthard’s story of the war, which included this poignant description of a historic day for France, 100 years ago. |
I have moved many times since then and my grandmother is long gone, but I have hung on to Edouard’s notebook. Last Christmas, I showed it to my own son, who was studying World War I at school. “La Grande Guerre,” or “14-18” as we call it in France, is all the rage. Kids are subjected to an avalanche of books, magazines, TV documentaries and hundreds of official events around the country commemorating the war, all of which they find fascinating — even more than their video games. France’s premier literary prize, the Prix Goncourt, was awarded last November for a novel about two survivors of the Great War, “Au Revoir Là-Haut,” by Pierre Lemaître: It has sold half a million copies so far. A new business called “memory tourism” has flourished on the 1914-18 battlefields as tourists come from all over the world to the Somme and to Verdun. | I have moved many times since then and my grandmother is long gone, but I have hung on to Edouard’s notebook. Last Christmas, I showed it to my own son, who was studying World War I at school. “La Grande Guerre,” or “14-18” as we call it in France, is all the rage. Kids are subjected to an avalanche of books, magazines, TV documentaries and hundreds of official events around the country commemorating the war, all of which they find fascinating — even more than their video games. France’s premier literary prize, the Prix Goncourt, was awarded last November for a novel about two survivors of the Great War, “Au Revoir Là-Haut,” by Pierre Lemaître: It has sold half a million copies so far. A new business called “memory tourism” has flourished on the 1914-18 battlefields as tourists come from all over the world to the Somme and to Verdun. |
Browsing the Internet with my son, I came across “Morts pour la France” (Fallen for France), a databank hosted by the French Defense Ministry website providing the names of every single soldier killed in French wars, including the 1.3 million who died in World War I. I entered Luthard, Maurice. On my screen, a copy of a handwritten army death certificate popped up: “Sous-lieutenant LUTHARD” was “killed in action” in Loudrefing, Lorraine, on Aug. 18, 1914. | Browsing the Internet with my son, I came across “Morts pour la France” (Fallen for France), a databank hosted by the French Defense Ministry website providing the names of every single soldier killed in French wars, including the 1.3 million who died in World War I. I entered Luthard, Maurice. On my screen, a copy of a handwritten army death certificate popped up: “Sous-lieutenant LUTHARD” was “killed in action” in Loudrefing, Lorraine, on Aug. 18, 1914. |
My curiosity aroused, I entered “Kauffmann, Charles,” another great-uncle I had heard about on the paternal side of my family. Charles Valentin Kauffmann showed up, also a sous-lieutenant, born in Perpignan. Also soon thrown into a Lorraine battlefield and killed in action, only two days later, on Aug. 20, 1914, at the age of 27. | My curiosity aroused, I entered “Kauffmann, Charles,” another great-uncle I had heard about on the paternal side of my family. Charles Valentin Kauffmann showed up, also a sous-lieutenant, born in Perpignan. Also soon thrown into a Lorraine battlefield and killed in action, only two days later, on Aug. 20, 1914, at the age of 27. |
Most French families have such notebooks in their attics and familiar names in the Defense Ministry databank. France was the main battleground on the Western front, and with 8 million men mobilized, it lost more soldiers than any other Western allied power. It is only natural that this centennial has revived widespread interest in that horrific carnage, six years after the death of the last French surviving veteran of the war at the age of 110. | |
What is more perplexing is that, for a country so prompt to disagree on almost everything, the surge of interest in the war hasn’t set off any new debate. Even the historians agree: This is a very consensual centennial. We don’t feel like looking beyond our attics and official databanks. While our German and British neighbors have been passionately debating theories about the origins of the war or its utility, all is quiet on the French front. | What is more perplexing is that, for a country so prompt to disagree on almost everything, the surge of interest in the war hasn’t set off any new debate. Even the historians agree: This is a very consensual centennial. We don’t feel like looking beyond our attics and official databanks. While our German and British neighbors have been passionately debating theories about the origins of the war or its utility, all is quiet on the French front. |
In Germany, the enormous success of “The Sleepwalkers: How Europe Went to War in 1914,” by the Australian historian Christopher Clark, has reopened an old debate about the country’s guilt, which was thought to have been settled with the acceptance of Fritz Fischer’s 1961 book, “Germany’s Aims in the First World War.” While the official narrative since then has pointed to Germany’s responsibility for the outbreak of the war, Mr. Clark’s book has shed a new light on its origins, describing a “shared aggression, paranoia and a reckless game of brinkmanship on all sides, not just in Berlin.” Opinion polls earlier this year showed that the German consensus has shifted, with only 19 percent of Germans saying they believed their country bore chief responsibility for the outbreak of the war. | In Germany, the enormous success of “The Sleepwalkers: How Europe Went to War in 1914,” by the Australian historian Christopher Clark, has reopened an old debate about the country’s guilt, which was thought to have been settled with the acceptance of Fritz Fischer’s 1961 book, “Germany’s Aims in the First World War.” While the official narrative since then has pointed to Germany’s responsibility for the outbreak of the war, Mr. Clark’s book has shed a new light on its origins, describing a “shared aggression, paranoia and a reckless game of brinkmanship on all sides, not just in Berlin.” Opinion polls earlier this year showed that the German consensus has shifted, with only 19 percent of Germans saying they believed their country bore chief responsibility for the outbreak of the war. |
Britain has witnessed a more classic but lively dispute between left and right over this year’s commemorations, with Conservatives criticizing “revisionist” views of the Great War as a futile, insane loss of life orchestrated by criminal generals. Former Education Secretary Michael Gove even launched his own culture war against leftist historians and TV shows like the BBC’s “Blackadder” series that cast World War I as “a misbegotten shambles.” | Britain has witnessed a more classic but lively dispute between left and right over this year’s commemorations, with Conservatives criticizing “revisionist” views of the Great War as a futile, insane loss of life orchestrated by criminal generals. Former Education Secretary Michael Gove even launched his own culture war against leftist historians and TV shows like the BBC’s “Blackadder” series that cast World War I as “a misbegotten shambles.” |
In France, the Socialist president, François Hollande, decided to associate the traditional Bastille Day military parade down the Champs-Elysées with the centennial of World War I, inviting soldiers from 70 countries who fought in the war to take part. On matters of defense, the French are generally united; left and right went along with this, as they went along with the creation of the official “Mission Centenaire” (Centennial Committee), set up by former President Nicolas Sarkozy to oversee all of this year’s war-related events. This committee even has its own board of historians, official guardians of the consensus. | In France, the Socialist president, François Hollande, decided to associate the traditional Bastille Day military parade down the Champs-Elysées with the centennial of World War I, inviting soldiers from 70 countries who fought in the war to take part. On matters of defense, the French are generally united; left and right went along with this, as they went along with the creation of the official “Mission Centenaire” (Centennial Committee), set up by former President Nicolas Sarkozy to oversee all of this year’s war-related events. This committee even has its own board of historians, official guardians of the consensus. |
Christopher Clark’s thesis has only been discussed in passing. The last controversy about World War I, which raged in 1998 over the mutinies of 1917 and whether the “poilus” (as the “hairy” infantrymen with beards and mustaches were called) were willing or forced to go to war, has been swept under the rug. For the French, the Great War was the “good war,” with the whole nation united, unlike World War II, which was tainted by collaboration with the Nazi occupier. In today’s times of uncertainty and division, the “poilu” is our universal hero: Some regiments even came from Africa; he has become untouchable. | Christopher Clark’s thesis has only been discussed in passing. The last controversy about World War I, which raged in 1998 over the mutinies of 1917 and whether the “poilus” (as the “hairy” infantrymen with beards and mustaches were called) were willing or forced to go to war, has been swept under the rug. For the French, the Great War was the “good war,” with the whole nation united, unlike World War II, which was tainted by collaboration with the Nazi occupier. In today’s times of uncertainty and division, the “poilu” is our universal hero: Some regiments even came from Africa; he has become untouchable. |
Maybe, after all, La Grande Guerre should be left where it belongs, in family notebooks, on websites, in books and movies. In other words, to history. | Maybe, after all, La Grande Guerre should be left where it belongs, in family notebooks, on websites, in books and movies. In other words, to history. |
Sylvie Kauffmann is the editorial director and a former editor in chief of Le Monde. | Sylvie Kauffmann is the editorial director and a former editor in chief of Le Monde. |
Previous version
1
Next version