Constantin von Hoffmeister: Jean-Marie Le Pen and Joan of Arc
Jean-Marie Le Pen, gone at 96, will not rest in peace because peace never suited him. France, that twisted lover, a nation forever at war with her own skin, has buried him, the man who refused to bow to the new gods of “progress” and sameness. He snarled at the polite lies of modernity, tore through the lies like a wolf through silk. “We do not hate the Turks; we love them, but in their country,” he said, pulling the ghosts of old Europe out of their graves, his words a jagged blade. And Joan of Arc, centuries dead, heard him. She rose from her pyre, her armor scorched but shining. Joan loved the English — but only in their country. “I do love them,” she told her judges, her enemies, “but I love France more.” This is where Le Pen and Joan meet: in their refusal to kneel, in their love for something greater than themselves.
Joan, sixteen and feral, heard voices in the fields of Domrémy, herding sheep under a sky that bled holy light. Saints spoke to her — Michael, Catherine, Margaret — telling her to save France, to drive the English out, to crown Charles at Reims. She was not polite about it. She demanded an army, and she got one. Imagine her, a girl dressed as a boy, cutting through soldiers with a sword she claimed was from God. The enemy called her a witch, a whore, an abomination. France called her a savior. Le Pen was not guided by angels. He had his own visions. France, to him, was a woman bleeding out, her body pierced by the swords of globalization, immigration, and cultural decay. He was not gentle about it either. He did not save his France with a sword but with words — sharp, direct, unapologetic words.
Le Pen came out of the rubble of post-war France, a country broken and ashamed. Born in Brittany in 1928, he grew up with the humiliation of Vichy and the weight of a France that had lost her way. He joined the Foreign Legion, fought in Indochina and Algeria, wars that burned into him the belief that France was under siege. Not just by armies but by ideologies, by the creeping shadows of global homogenization. He was a soldier without a battlefield, so he made his own. The National Front, founded in 1972, became his weapon, his crusade. He spoke for the forgotten, the silenced, the angry. He called out the elites, the “colonizers of Brussels,” and the technocrats who, he believed, sold France’s soul for a seat at the globalist table. He wanted a pure France, a France of villages and cathedrals, not mosques and shopping malls. Joan would have understood.
Joan’s trial was hell, a circus of enemies eager to break her. The English hated her because she had humiliated them on the battlefield. The French Church hated her because she bypassed its authority. Her gender, her visions, her victories — they were too much for her time. She stood before her judges, unbroken, answering their traps with sharp, unyielding logic. They burned her anyway. Her ashes were scattered in the Seine, as if her fire could be extinguished. Le Pen was not burned, but he was tried again and again — in the courts, in the media, in the salons of Paris. They called him a racist, a xenophobe, a fascist. His words scorched; his sentences turned to fire. He never recanted. Like Joan, he refused to betray his mission.
Joan’s France was sacred, a kingdom ordained by God, her rivers and fields blessed by holy blood. Le Pen’s France was cultural, historical, a land of poets and farmers, of medieval spires and stubborn pride. He did not claim divine revelations. His message carried its own fervor. France, for him, was not just a place. She was a soulful woman who needed to be defended. He fought for her as Joan had fought centuries before, although their battles were different. Joan faced the swords and arrows of the English; Le Pen faced lawsuits, protests, and the scorn of a globalized world. Both stood their ground, defiant in the face of their enemies.
Joan rode into Orléans like a storm, her banner raised high, her soldiers roaring her name. The city was liberated; the tide of the war turned. She marched to Reims and crowned Charles VII, fulfilling her divine mission. But victory made her enemies more determined. When she was captured by the Burgundians and sold to the English, they sought to destroy her body as well as her spirit. Le Pen’s victories were not on the battlefield. They were in the polls. In 2002, he shocked France by reaching the second round of the presidential election, a moment that sent shockwaves through the establishment. His enemies tried to destroy him, but each trial only strengthened his legend among his followers.
Joan was declared innocent decades after her death, her name restored, her sainthood eventually secured. The Church canonized her in 1920, making her a symbol of French unity and faith. Le Pen, of course, will never be declared a saint. His legacy is tangled, controversial, loved and loathed in equal measure. But he did not need the Church’s approval. His sainthood, if it exists, lives in the hearts of his supporters, the millions who saw in him a defender of France. His daughter, Marine Le Pen, carries his banner now, softer in tone but carrying the same message: France must remain French. “I love them in their country,” Joan said. Jean-Marie Le Pen said after her: “We do not hate them; we love them, but in their country.”
Joan and Le Pen both understood the power of symbols. Joan’s banner, painted with the names of Jesus and Mary, led soldiers into battle, a visual manifestation of her divine mission. Le Pen invoked Joan as a symbol of nationalism, a saint who fought for France against foreign domination. Critics sneered, calling it opportunistic. For Le Pen’s followers, it was a spiritual connection: the maid of Orléans and the man from Brittany, both warriors for the glory of France. One wielded a sword, the other wielded words — both were willing to fight.
Le Pen was not loved by history, and neither was Joan, at least not in their lifetimes. Joan was burned alive, her ashes scattered to the wind. Le Pen was burned metaphorically, his reputation shredded, his words twisted, his image vilified. But history has a way of changing its mind. Joan became a saint, her story rewritten into a tale of heroism and faith. Le Pen’s story is not finished; his daughter’s rise and the continuing strength of the National Rally suggest that his ideal France might yet find its place.
Le Pen’s death marks the end of an era, but his legacy is alive, restless, and defiant. The National Rally, now rebranded but carrying the same fire, continues to rise. For his supporters, Le Pen was a politician and a prophet, a man who saw the dangers of globalization and the loss of identity long before others did. For his detractors, he will always be a demagogue, a voice of “hate.” But like Joan, Le Pen will not be forgotten. Both remain symbols of a France that refuses to bow, a France that fights for her soul.
The King is dead. Long live the King!
Flick Colby, an influential dancer and choreographer, was born into a family with a strong academic background, particularly in the field of German studies. Her father, Thomas E. Colby, was a Professor of German at Hamilton College in New York. This connection to academia may have fostered an appreciation for culture and the arts within her family, possibly influencing her career trajectory.
Later in life, Colby married George Bahlke, a professor of literature at the same college where her father taught. This connection further emphasizes a familial link to academia and the German language, although specific details about any direct ties to Germany itself remain unclear. The coincidence of her marrying someone with a Germanic name shortly before her death adds an intriguing layer to her personal narrative.
The video features a performance by Colby and her dance group Pan’s People, who were renowned for their appearances on the BBC show Top of the Pops during the 1970s. Colby, a talented choreographer, founded Pan’s People and created numerous dance routines that complemented the music of contemporary hits. The concept behind these performances was to visually enhance the music and provide an engaging experience for viewers.
In an era when music television was emerging, the combination of dance and music was revolutionary. Colby often had only a few hours to develop choreography, showcasing her creativity and adaptability. The performances by Pan’s People were not just entertainment; they played a significant role in establishing dance as a central element in music videos and live performances. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Flick_Colby
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DL7HpfVuZwc
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vmwMhjbThKg
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZJAQaSToXGA
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark has created notable music pieces that center around the theme of Joan of Arc, particularly through their songs “Joan of Arc” and “Maid of Orleans (The Waltz Joan of Arc).” Both tracks reflect the band’s fascination with historical figures and themes, particularly those related to religion and heroism.
“Maid of Orleans” was released on January 15, 1982, as part of their album Architecture & Morality. The song was inspired by the 550th anniversary of Joan of Arc’s death and features a distinctive melody played on a Mellotron, specifically utilizing its “3 Violins” sound, which gives it a unique sound reminiscent of a bagpipe.
The track is characterized by its waltz-like 6/8 time signature and includes electronic sounds that were added later during production. It became OMD’s most successful single, topping charts in several countries, including Germany, where it was the best-selling single of the year.
The music video for “Maid of Orleans,” directed by Steve Barron, features actress Julia Tobin and was filmed at picturesque locations like Brimham Rocks and Fountains Abbey. The visual representation complements the song’s themes, evoking a sense of historical reverence and emotional depth.
In addition to “Maid of Orleans,” OMD also released “Joan of Arc,” which further explores the narrative surrounding this iconic historical figure. The juxtaposition of these two songs highlights the band’s artistic approach to storytelling through music, blending historical context with contemporary pop sensibilities.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Steve_Barron
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Julia_Tobin
The figure of Joan of Arc has transcended her historical existence to become a symbol steeped in myth and legend. Often portrayed as a divine warrior, she embodies the archetype of a hero who rises from humble beginnings to lead her nation against oppression. This transformation from a simple peasant girl to a military leader is shrouded in narratives that emphasize her ethereal visions and unwavering faith, creating an almost otherworldly persona.
Over time, the complexities of her life have been simplified into a singular narrative that highlights her as a beacon of hope and courage during a tumultuous period. This mythologization serves not only to inspire but also to reflect the cultural and national identity of France. However, the layers of myth surrounding her story invite skepticism regarding the extent to which her image has been crafted or manipulated for various agendas.
The comparison between Joan of Arc and the Children’s Crusades reveals intriguing parallels. Both phenomena were characterized by a blend of religious fervor, youthful naivety, and political manipulation. They shared unrealistic goals, adult exploitation, and a tragic misunderstanding of reality. Joan of Arc, like the Children’s Crusades, was co-opted by religious and political actors for their own agendas. These historical events demonstrate how easily people, especially the young, can be instrumentalized for larger causes.
In a modern context, one might draw parallels to the rise of Greta Thunberg as a climate activist. While Thunberg has undoubtedly raised awareness about climate change, questions arise about the extent of her influence and the forces behind her rapid rise to prominence. Unlike Joan of Arc, who faced dire consequences for her actions, Thunberg operates in a different era with its own set of challenges and support systems.
However, skeptics might question whether Thunberg’s prominence is entirely organic or if there are wealthy backers orchestrating her global platform. The “Greta effect” on social media and her ability to mobilize supporters while also facing backlash bears some resemblance to historical figures who became symbols of their causes. Yet, the modern media landscape and the potential for behind-the-scenes influence add layers of complexity to her story that weren’t present in Joan of Arc’s time.
The British and French have had a long history of conflict, characterized by rivalry and enmity. Their relationship dates back to the early Middle Ages and includes numerous significant conflicts, such as the Hundred Years’ War, which established a deep-seated animosity between the two nations. This war began as a feud over feudal rights but evolved into a national struggle that shaped the identities of both countries.
Throughout the centuries, Britain and France often found themselves on opposing sides in various wars, including the Seven Years’ War and the Napoleonic Wars. The competition for colonial dominance further fueled their rivalry, particularly during the age of imperialism when both nations sought to expand their empires across Africa and Asia.
Despite their bitter enmity, relations began to improve in the 19th century, culminating in the Entente Cordiale in 1904, which marked a significant shift towards cooperation. However, underlying tensions remained, especially during World War II when Britain and France faced complex challenges, including the German occupation of France.
The historical enmity between Britain and France is thus marked by a series of conflicts that laid the groundwork for a complicated relationship, oscillating between rivalry and cooperation. This dynamic continues to influence perceptions and interactions between the two nations today.
The French also have a complex historical connection to the Germanic tribes, particularly the Franks, from whom the name “France” is derived. The Franks were a Germanic tribe that settled in what is now France during the early Middle Ages. They played a significant role in the formation of the early French state, especially under King Clovis I, who united various Frankish kingdoms and converted to Christianity.
Despite their Germanic roots, the French language evolved from Vulgar Latin, which was spoken in Gaul before the arrival of the Franks. The influence of the Franks on the language was limited, primarily contributing vocabulary related to warfare and some place names. As a result, while the French people have genetic ties to Germanic tribes, their cultural and linguistic identity developed significantly through Roman influence and subsequent historical events.
Over time, France and Germany became embroiled in a series of conflicts that solidified their positions as rivals. This enmity was fueled by territorial disputes, nationalistic sentiments, and competition for dominance in Europe. The historical animosity between these nations has been marked by wars and political strife, particularly during the 19th and 20th centuries.
So French are of “Germanic blood” but possess a Latin culture that has been superimposed over time. The name “France” itself derives from the Franks, a Germanic tribe that settled in the region during the early Middle Ages. However, the cultural and linguistic identity of the French people has been significantly shaped by Roman influence, particularly through the adoption of Latin following the Roman conquest of Gaul.
The Franks, despite their Germanic origins, adopted the language of the conquered Galloromanes, which led to the development of Old French as a Latin dialect. This process illustrates how language is closely tied to culture; thus, while the French share genetic connections with Germanic tribes, their cultural identity is predominantly Latin due to the historical dominance of Roman civilization in the region.
Over time, France became a melting pot of various cultures and influences, including Celtic and later Germanic elements. The mixing of these different heritages has contributed to a unique French identity that is often described as gallo-romanic. Historical events, such as the French Revolution, further diluted the remnants of Germanic aristocratic lineage, leading to a more homogenized cultural identity.
The relationship between the Germanic peoples and the Romans was complex and shaped by various historical factors. While the Romans established control over parts of what is now Germany, the Germanic tribes did not adopt Latin as their primary language for several reasons.
Firstly, the Germanic tribes had a strong sense of cultural identity and social structure that was distinct from Roman culture. They maintained their own languages, traditions, and customs, which were integral to their identities. Additionally, the geographical factors played a significant role; the regions inhabited by the Germanic tribes were often remote and less integrated into the Roman Empire compared to areas like Gaul (modern-day France). This geographical separation contributed to the preservation of their languages.
Although Latin became the dominant language in many parts of the empire, it primarily influenced local elites and urban populations. The rural Germanic tribes remained largely unaffected by Romanization, especially in terms of language. After the fall of the Western Roman Empire, Latin evolved into various Romance languages in regions where it was dominant. In contrast, the Germanic languages continued to develop independently, leading to distinct linguistic traditions.
Furthermore, historical context played a crucial role; the Germanic tribes frequently resisted Roman expansion and influence. Military conflicts and invasions further solidified their linguistic and cultural separateness from Roman traditions. In summary, while there was interaction between the Germanic peoples and the Romans, the former maintained their linguistic identity due to cultural pride, geographical factors, and resistance to Romanization, resulting in the development of distinct Germanic languages that evolved independently from Latin.
Many English views of Joan of Arc exist, from Bernard Shaw and Margaret Murray to Helen Castor and Kathryn Harrison.
What is needed 600 years later is recognition of the shared elements of Saxon, Norman and Roman history, and union of all European-descended people from Norway to New Zealand, so that we have a common future for more than 600 years.
Le Pen is dead, but we and our children live on.
Poor victim of the ongoing multiculti madness/aganda!
https://rmx.news/article/france-pretty-24-year-old-barbara-strangled-and-tortured-to-death-inside-her-home-by-fouad/
There is no “Hannelone”, only Hannelore. Nobody in France is named that without German background. We can deduce that her mum was of German descent (like Ashley Babbit’s)
Her nick was “Erika” (like the famous German marching song), the female form of Erik or Erich. She didn’t speak German, but Russian. (“English” is not worth mentioning!)
The interesting question arises as to why we consider particularly pretty people and faces to be “more valuable” victims? Who cares if a homeless person is stabbed to death?
Presumably it has to do with kinda perfection mania “aestheticized” by Jew media, which identifies itself as perfect, therefore believes this is quasi his supplement.
Recently I spoke about German punctuality (as one of the Prussian values), the ability to organize collectively and strategically. As good-natured as the “American” is, he is no match for the Jew.
The Jew will cause chaos under him according to his “unnatural nature”, and the “American” will no longer know where the back or the front is.
With the German, the Americans have murdered themselves. And whoever denies the “JQ” in such a drastic way as “Amren” is not a friend of the Americans, but their most despicable enemy!
@ T.U.
There are different national characters among white people, as writers of varied backgrounds have described. Germans are marginally more industrious than the English, but almost to a fault, but they have let themselves become “Americanised” not in a particularly good way. Overshadowing the post-WW2 world is the influence of Hollywood and Holocaust; cf. the unimpeachably kosher books by Yuri Slezkine, J. J. Goldberg, Peter Novick, Tony Shaw & Giora Goodman,
You could also say that the “Americans” (and with them the British) have eradicated their own roots. They listened to the Jew (they still do today, see “Amren”!), fell for him because they lacked the instinct to see through the Jew.
Now, of course, they no longer get any lifeblood from the depths of their past, but only their own cheap lentil dish, the slurpy soup that they themselves have invented and which the Jews incessantly serve and force upon them, a kind of “cultural recycling”.
This is not an organically grown natural “culture”, it’s junk! The Germans fought – and (unfortunately) lost. In contrast to you, the Germans have nothing to reproach themselves with in this respect – on the contrary! They can be proud with every fiber of their hearts!
But the “Americans” are undoubtedly the biggest existing idiots in the entire history of the world! No other “people” are so stupid (and even “boasting” about it)! No wonder, this pile of garbage is not a “people” at all and never was!
Leave Amren alone. It does rare work on race issues. Chacun a son gout.