Thursday, 25 December 2025

Watch the King's Christmas message in full

Tarka author tells of 1914 Christmas truce


Henry Williamson, 1915, having been commissioned.
 
Tarka author tells of 1914 Christmas truce

Remarkable account of the 1914 Christmas truce between British and German soldiers on the Western Front emerges in interview with veteran, never before seen in full

It was one of the most poignant episodes of the First World War – as the guns fell silent and the troops emerged from opposing trenches to come together in no-man’s land to exchange gifts and sing carols, during a brief period of festive peace.
Now, almost a century on, perhaps the most moving account of the Christmas truce of 1914 has emerged, in an interview with a veteran recorded in the 1960s.
Henry Williamson was on a patrol in no-man’s land on Christmas Eve just 50 yards from the enemy lines when it became clear that an informal ceasefire was emerging. His unit had feared they were going to come under attack at any moment, but as the atmosphere became more relaxed, he and his comrades were soon “walking about and laughing and talking”, with no interference from the Germans.
Williamson, a private in the London Rifle Brigade, had been sent on the operation from the British lines at Ploegsteert – part of the front near to Ypres, in Belgium.
He recalled: “We crept out, trying to avoid our boots ringing on the frozen ground, and expecting any moment to fall flat with the machine guns opening up. And nothing happened. And within two hours we were walking about and laughing and talking, and there was nothing from the German side.
“And then about 11 o’clock I saw a Christmas tree going up on the German trenches. And there was a light. And we stood still and we watched this and we talked, and then a German voice began to sing a song – Heilige Nacht. (from the German carol Stille Nacht, Heilige Nacht, or, in English, Silent Night).


Henry Williamson's letters home

“And after that, somebody, ‘come over, Tommy, come over’. And we still thought it was a trap, but some of us went over at once, and they came to this barbed wire fence between us which was five strands wire ... hung with empty bully beef tins to make a rattle if they came. And very soon we were exchanging gifts.”
The following day, the exercise was repeated. Williamson recalled: “The whole of no-man’s land as far as we could see was grey and khaki. There they were, smoking and talking, shaking hands, exchanging names and addresses for after the war, to write to one another.”
Williamson – who would later become famous as the author of Tarka the Otter- also describes an exchange with an opponent, as the two sides were burying their dead and he observed the Germans marking their graves with little wooden crosses, made from ration boxes, with writing, in indelible pencil, ‘Für Vaterland und Freiheit’ - ‘For Fatherland and Freedom’.
“I said to a German, ‘excuse me but how can you be fighting for freedom? You started the war and we are fighting for freedom’,” Williamson said.
“And he said, ‘excuse me, English comrade – Kamerad – but we are fighting for freedom. For our country.’ And I say, ‘You also put, ‘Here rests in God, ein unbekannter Held ‘ – Here rests in God an unknown hero. In God? ‘Oh yes, God is on our side.’ I said, ‘he’s on our side.’ And that was a tremendous shock. One began to think that these chaps, who were like ourselves, whom we liked and who felt about the war as we did,” he added. The two sides began to argue over who would win the war, until the German said: “Well English comrade, do not let us quarrel on Christmas Day.”
Williamson confirmed in the interview that football matches were played during the truce but said that these had been behind the German lines, rather than in no-man’s land, and does not specify whether they involved both British and German troops.
The truce went on for four days before a British order came round that fraternisation had to stop. The Germans also sent over a note saying their senior officers were visiting the trenches that night, that they would have to fire their machine guns, but would do so high, to avoid hitting anyone.
The interview was recorded in 1964 for the landmark BBC series, The Great War, but only a segment was used. From Tuesday, an extended version will be available on the BBC iPlayer, while on Friday, excerpts, along with unseen testimony from other veterans, will be shown in a BBC Two programme, “I Was There: The Great War Interviews”.
Williamson’s son, Richard, said that the interview had been the only time his father had talked openly about his experiences. “He had never talked about the war with us as children. He would tell us it wasn’t possible. The show was a catalyst. It drew our father out,” said Mr Williamson, 79.
He said his father had found Christmas a difficult time of year and usually wanted to be alone. He has seen a preview of the new show. “It was very moving to see him talking again. It was almost difficult to watch without tears.”

Christmas Presents from Princess Mary

Williamson had joined the Territorial Army before the war, as a private in the London Rifle Brigade.
After the outbreak, he recalls their bayonets being taken off to be sharpened. “When they came back we were a little bit nervous about the sharpness, because we realised the other side had bayonets also,” he said.
Shortly after the truce, he was invalided home after a gas attack. He remained in Britain for two years, recovering, and undergoing training. He returned to the front near to where the Battle of the Somme had recently been fought. But, in June 1917, he was once again injured, after another gas attack. He recovered but was not considered fit for service on the front, although he appears to have returned for three weeks in 1918, during Germany’s Spring Offensive.
In his interview, he described the mud of the trenches, which claimed the lives of some men. “Some of our chaps slipped in and were drowned and weren’t seen until we trod on them perhaps later.” When heavy frosts came, the mud ceased, but the trench was “half ice” and had to be abandoned.
He also recalls waiting for an attack which, in the end was called off. “I felt drained out and when I tried to get up I couldn’t. My knees were wobbling.”
As well comrades killed in action, he remembered one who died after swallowing what he thought was his rum ration. In fact, this had been stolen from the bottle and replaced with a chemical fluid to avoid detection. As befits someone who would go on to become a leading naturalist, he also recalled the suffering of mules and horses used.
In his interview, Williamson also speaks poetically about the onset of peace, when the guns fell silent on November 11, 1918.
“No more very lights going up with their greenish wavering flare. No lilies of the dead, in the light. No flash of howitzers on the horizon. No downward droning of the shells. no machine guns. No patrols going out. Just nothing. Silence.”
After the war, deeply traumatised, he moved to Devon and started to write about natural history – partly in response to his experiences. Tarka was first published in 1927 and has never gone out of print.
However, his experiences had also driven him in other, darker directions. His abhorrence of conflict led him to believe that it was best avoided by strong, authoritarian leaders.
He attended the 1935 Nuremberg Rally, spoke warmly of Adolf Hitler and became a follower of Oswald Mosley, the British fascist. However, he later attacked Hitler as “wicked” and “Lucifer”.
Richard Williamson’s wife Anne, 77, who has written a book chronicling her father-in-law’s war career, said: “The 1914 truce marked him for life. His writing was cathartic and the 1964 interview gave him an opportunity to express what he felt out loud – as opposed to the inner writing – which no doubt helped him to come to terms with what had happened.
“The modern emphasis on his politics puzzling – actual politics were minimal in his life. It was the prevention of war that occupied him. He was not a fascist in the sense that we understand it today. He thought Hitler – as an ex-soldier and having seen the same horror as he had – would never consider another war.”

Williamson died in 1977, on the very day that the death of Tarka was being filmed for a celebrated film adaptation.

The Christmas Truce of 1914




The Christmas Truce

 You are standing up to your knees in the slime of a waterlogged trench.  It is the evening of 24 December 1914 and you are on the dreaded Western Front.

Stooped over, you wade across to the firing step and take over the watch.  Having exchanged pleasantries, your bleary-eyed and mud-spattered colleague shuffles off towards his dug out.  Despite the horrors and the hardships, your morale is high and you believe that in the New Year the nation's army march towards a glorious victory.

But for now you stamp your feet in a vain attempt to keep warm.  All is quiet when jovial voices call out from both friendly and enemy trenches.  Then the men from both sides start singing carols and songs.  Next come requests not to fire, and soon the unthinkable happens: you start to see the shadowy shapes of soldiers gathering together in no-man's land laughing, joking and sharing gifts.

Many have exchanged cigarettes, the lit ends of which burn brightly in the inky darkness.  Plucking up your courage, you haul yourself up and out of the trench and walk towards the foe...

The meeting of enemies as friends in no-man's land was experienced by hundreds, if not thousands, of men on the Western Front during Christmas 1914.  Today, 90 years after it occurred, the event is seen as a shining episode of sanity from among the bloody chapters of World War One - a spontaneous effort by the lower ranks to create a peace that could have blossomed were it not for the interference of generals and politicians.




  The reality of the Christmas Truce, however, is a slightly less romantic and a more down to earth story.  It was an organic affair that in some spots hardly registered a mention and in others left a profound impact upon those who took part.

Many accounts were rushed, confused or contradictory.  Others, written long after the event, are weighed down by hindsight.  These difficulties aside, the true story is still striking precisely because of its rag-tagged nature: it is more 'human' and therefore all the more potent.

Months beforehand, millions of servicemen, reservists and volunteers from all over the continent had rushed enthusiastically to the banners of war: the atmosphere was one of holiday rather than conflict.

But it was not long before the jovial façade was torn away. Armies equipped with repeating rifles, machine guns and a vast array of artillery tore chunks out of each other, and thousands upon thousands of men perished.

To protect against the threat of this vast firepower, the soldiers were ordered to dig in and prepare for next year's offensives, which most men believed would break the deadlock and deliver victory.

The early trenches were often hasty creations and poorly constructed; if the trench was badly sighted it could become a sniping hot spot.  In bad weather (the winter of 1914 was a dire one) the positions could flood and fall in.  The soldiers - unequipped to face the rigours of the cold and rain - found themselves wallowing in a freezing mire of mud and the decaying bodies of the fallen.

 The man at the Front could not help but have a degree of sympathy for his opponents who were having just as miserable a time as they were.

Another factor that broke down the animosity between the opposing armies were the surroundings.  In 1914 the men at the front could still see the vestiges of civilisation.  Villages, although badly smashed up, were still standing.  Fields, although pitted with shell-holes, had not been turned into muddy lunarscapes.

Thus the other world - the civilian world - and the social mores and manners that went with it was still present at the front.  Also lacking was the pain, misery and hatred that years of bloody war build up.  Then there was the desire, on all sides, to see the enemy up close - was he really as bad as the politicians, papers and priests were saying?

It was a combination of these factors, and many more minor ones, that made the Christmas Truce of 1914 possible.

On the eve of the Truce, the British Army (still a relatively small presence on the Western Front) was manning a stretch of the line running south from the infamous Ypres salient for 27 miles to the La Bassee Canal.

Along the front the enemy was sometimes no more than 70, 50 or even 30 yards away.  Both Tommy and Fritz could quite easily hurl greetings and insults to one another, and, importantly, come to tacit agreements not to fire.  Incidents of temporary truces and outright fraternisation were more common at this stage in the war than many people today realise - even units that had just taken part in a series of futile and costly assaults, were still willing to talk and come to arrangements with their opponents.

German and British officer together during the 1914 Christmas truceAs Christmas approached the festive mood and the desire for a lull in the fighting increased as parcels packed with goodies from home started to arrive.  On top of this came gifts care of the state.  Tommy received plum puddings and 'Princess Mary boxes'; a metal case engraved with an outline of George V's daughter and filled with chocolates and butterscotch, cigarettes and tobacco, a picture card of Princess Mary and a facsimile of George V's greeting to the troops.  'May God protect you and bring you safe home,' it said.

Not to be outdone, Fritz received a present from the Kaiser, the Kaiserliche, a large meerschaum pipe for the troops and a box of cigars for NCOs and officers.  Towns, villages and cities, and numerous support associations on both sides also flooded the front with gifts of food, warm clothes and letters of thanks.

The Belgians and French also received goods, although not in such an organised fashion as the British or Germans.  For these nations the Christmas of 1914 was tinged with sadness - their countries were occupied.  It is no wonder that the Truce, although it sprung up in some spots on French and Belgian lines, never really caught hold as it did in the British sector.

With their morale boosted by messages of thanks and their bellies fuller than normal, and with still so much Christmas booty to hand, the season of goodwill entered the trenches.  A British Daily Telegraph correspondent wrote that on one part of the line the Germans had managed to slip a chocolate cake into British trenches.

Even more amazingly, it was accompanied with a message asking for a ceasefire later that evening so they could celebrate the festive season and their Captain's birthday.  They proposed a concert at 7.30pm when candles, the British were told, would be placed on the parapets of their trenches.

The British accepted the invitation and offered some tobacco as a return present.  That evening, at the stated time, German heads suddenly popped up and started to sing.  Each number ended with a round of applause from both sides.

The Germans then asked the British to join in.  At this point, one very mean-spirited Tommy shouted: 'We'd rather die than sing German.'  To which a German joked aloud: 'It would kill us if you did'.

December 24 was a good day weather-wise: the rain had given way to clear skies.

On many stretches of the Front the crack of rifles and the dull thud of shells ploughing into the ground continued, but at a far lighter level than normal.  In other sectors there was an unnerving silence that was broken by the singing and shouting drifting over, in the main, from the German trenches.

Along many parts of the line the Truce was spurred on with the arrival in the German trenches of miniature Christmas trees - Tannenbaum.  The sight these small pines, decorated with candles and strung along the German parapets, captured the Tommies' imagination, as well as the men of the Indian corps who were reminded of the sacred Hindu festival of light.

British soldiers bringing in Christmas hollyIt was the perfect excuse for the opponents to start shouting to one another, to start singing and, in some areas, to pluck up the courage to meet one another in no-man's land.

By now, the British high command - comfortably 'entrenched' in a luxurious châteaux 27 miles behind the front - was beginning to hear of the fraternisation.

Stern orders were issued by the commander of the BEF, Sir John French against such behaviour.  Other 'brass-hats' (as the Tommies nick-named their high-ranking officers and generals), also made grave pronouncements on the dangers and consequences of parleying with the Germans.

However, there were many high-ranking officers who took a surprisingly relaxed view of the situation.  If anything, they believed it would at least offer their men an opportunity to strengthen their trenches.  This mixed stance meant that very few officers and men involved in the Christmas Truce were disciplined.

Interestingly, the German High Command's ambivalent attitude towards the Truce mirrored that of the British.

Christmas day began quietly but once the sun was up the fraternisation began.  Again songs were sung and rations thrown to one another.  It was not long before troops and officers started to take matters into their own hands and ventured forth.  No-man's land became something of a playground.

Men exchanged gifts and buttons.  In one or two places soldiers who had been barbers in civilian times gave free haircuts.  One German, a juggler and a showman, gave an impromptu, and given the circumstances, somewhat surreal performance of his routine in the centre of no-man's land.

Sir Edward Hulse of the Scots Guards, in his famous account, remembered the approach of four unarmed Germans at 08.30.  He went out to meet them with one of his ensigns.  'Their spokesmen,' Hulse wrote, 'started off by saying that he thought it only right to come over and wish us a happy Christmas, and trusted us implicitly to keep the truce.  He came from Suffolk where he had left his best girl and a 3 ½ h.p. motor-bike!'

Having raced off to file a report at headquarters, Hulse returned at 10.00 to find crowds of British soldiers and Germans out together chatting and larking about in no-man's land, in direct contradiction to his orders.

Not that Hulse seemed to care about the fraternisation in itself - the need to be seen to follow orders was his concern.  Thus he sought out a German officer and arranged for both sides to return to their lines.

While this was going on he still managed to keep his ears and eyes open to the fantastic events that were unfolding.

'Scots and Huns were fraternizing in the most genuine possible manner.  Every sort of souvenir was exchanged addresses given and received, photos of families shown, etc.  One of our fellows offered a German a cigarette; the German said, "Virginian?"  Our fellow said, "Aye, straight-cut", the German said "No thanks, I only smoke Turkish!"... It gave us all a good laugh.'

Hulse's account was in part a letter to his mother, who in turn sent it on to the newspapers for publication, as was the custom at the time.  Tragically, Hulse was killed in March 1915.

On many parts of the line the Christmas Day truce was initiated through sadder means.  Both sides saw the lull as a chance to get into no-man's land and seek out the bodies of their compatriots and give them a decent burial.  Once this was done the opponents would inevitably begin talking to one another.

The 6th Gordon Highlanders, for example, organised a burial truce with the enemy.  After the gruesome task of laying friends and comrades to rest was complete, the fraternisation began.

German officer in a British trench during the Christmas truceWith the Truce in full swing up and down the line there were a number of recorded games of soccer, although these were really just 'kick-abouts' rather than a structured match.

On January 1, 1915, the London Times published a letter from a major in the Medical Corps reporting that in his sector the British played a game against the Germans opposite and were beaten 3-2.

Kurt Zehmisch of the 134th Saxons recorded in his diary: 'The English brought a soccer ball from the trenches, and pretty soon a lively game ensued.  How marvellously wonderful, yet how strange it was.  The English officers felt the same way about it.  Thus Christmas, the celebration of Love, managed to bring mortal enemies together as friends for a time.'

The Truce lasted all day; in places it ended that night, but on other sections of the line it held over Boxing Day and in some areas, a few days more.  In fact, there parts on the front where the absence of aggressive behaviour was conspicuous well into 1915.

Captain J C Dunn, the Medical Officer in the Royal Welch Fusiliers, whose unit had fraternised and received two barrels of beer from the Saxon troops opposite, recorded how hostilities re-started on his section of the front.

Dunn wrote: 'At 8.30 I fired three shots in the air and put up a flag with "Merry Christmas" on it, and I climbed on the parapet.  He [the Germans] put up a sheet with "Thank you" on it, and the German Captain appeared on the parapet.  We both bowed and saluted and got down into our respective trenches, and he fired two shots in the air, and the War was on again.'

The war was indeed on again, for the Truce had no hope of being maintained.  Despite being wildly reported in Britain and to a lesser extent in Germany, the troops and the populations of both countries were still keen to prosecute the conflict.

Today, pragmatists read the Truce as nothing more than a 'blip' - a temporary lull induced by the season of goodwill, but willingly exploited by both sides to better their defences and eye out one another's positions.  Romantics assert that the Truce was an effort by normal men to bring about an end to the slaughter.

In the public's mind the facts have become irrevocably mythologized, and perhaps this is the most important legacy of the Christmas Truce today.  In our age of uncertainty, it comforting to believe, regardless of the real reasoning and motives, that soldiers and officers told to hate, loathe and kill, could still lower their guns and extend the hand of goodwill, peace, love and Christmas cheer.

Monday, 22 December 2025

Élysée Palace staff member accused of stealing tableware worth up to €40,000

 


Élysée Palace staff member accused of stealing tableware worth up to €40,000

 

Silver steward is one of three people arrested in connection with alleged theft from presidential residence

 

Rory Carroll

Sun 21 Dec 2025 14.37 GMT

https://www.theguardian.com/world/2025/dec/21/elysee-palace-staff-member-accused-stealing-tableware

 

A silver steward employed at the Élysée Palace in Paris has been arrested for stealing silverware and porcelain, amid a wave of thefts from high-profile French institutions.

 

Investigators arrested the man and two alleged accomplices last week. They are accused of taking the objects from the official Paris residence of the French president and trying to sell them on online auction websites such as Vinted.

 

The head steward at the palace alerted authorities to the missing objects, some of which are deemed items of national heritage. The items are estimated to have a combined value of up to €40,000 (£35,000).

 

Most of the pieces came from the Sèvres Manufactory in Paris, a famed porcelain factory that has been owned by the French state since 1759. Investigators began to question Élysée staff after factory personnel recognised some of the missing items on auction sites.

 

The alleged thefts are an unwelcome encore to a string of robberies from the Louvre and other French museums in recent months that have raised concern about lax safeguards at the country’s cultural institutions.

 

The role of silver steward involves storing and looking after tableware and similar items used by presidents, visiting royalty and other dignitaries. Prosecutors said inventory records made by the arrested steward gave the impression he was planning future thefts.

 

According to investigators, the man’s Vinted account included a plate stamped “French Air Force” and ashtrays marked “Sèvres Manufactory” – items not usually available to the general public.

 

They said they recovered about 100 objects in his home, vehicle and personal locker, including Sèvres porcelain, a René Lalique statuette, Baccarat champagne coupes and copper saucepans.

 

The steward and his alleged accomplices appeared in court on 18 December and will be tried on 26 February. The trio were placed under judicial supervision, banned from contacting one another, prohibited from appearing at auction venues and barred from their professional activities, the Associated Press reported.

 

The recovered items were returned to the Élysée – a happier outcome than at the Louvre, which is still missing crown jewels worth an estimated €88m (£77m) after a daylight raid in October. Four suspects have been arrested in relation to that case.

 

Other French institutions targeted in recent months include Paris’s Natural History Museum and a porcelain museum in Limoges. Both were raided in September, losing six gold nuggets worth about €1.5m (£1.3m) and Chinese porcelain with an estimated combined worth of €6.55m (£5.7m) respectively.

 

In October, around 2,000 gold and silver coins worth about €90,000 (£78,000) were stolen from the Maison des Lumières (House of Enlightenment), a museum in Langres dedicated to the philosopher Denis Diderot.

Sunday, 21 December 2025

Le Corbusier and the Radical and Revolutionary Right / by ANTÓNIO SÉRGIO ROSA DE CARVALHO, Architectural Historian.

 





Le Corbusier and the Radical and Revolutionary Right

 

ANTÓNIO SÉRGIO ROSA DE CARVALHO

 

15/08/2016 - 07:00 (updated at 18:14 on 17/08/2016)

https://www.publico.pt/opiniao/noticia/le-corbusier-e-a-direita-radical-e-revolucionaria-1741227?page=-1

 



Le Corbusier always took care not to explicitly commit himself regarding his political positions.

 

 What should have been the definitive recognition and consecration of Le Corbusier’s crucial role in 20th-century urbanism—an exhibition organized by the Centre Pompidou, Le Corbusier – Mesures de l'homme (April-August 2015)—turned into a nightmare for its organizers.

 

 Three books were published on this occasion: Le Corbusier, un fascisme français by Xavier de Jarcy, Le Corbusier, une froide vision du monde by Marc Perelman, and Un Corbusier by François Chaslin.

 

 The highly controversial and unavoidable revelations in these works about Le Corbusier’s ideological journey only surprised the general public. Scholars who had studied the historiography of the last 20 years—specialized in the genesis of fascism from the late 19th century to the first forty years of the 20th—saw only confirmation of what they already knew.

 

 This is not merely about Le Corbusier's 18-month stay in Vichy, where he tried to serve Pétain’s Révolution Nationale alongside his friend Hubert Lagardelle, the Minister of Labor in the same regime. This period was just the culmination of a long process of interactions and associations with figures like Dr. de Winter, Georges Valois, Philippe Lamour, and Hubert Lagardelle—individuals with different backgrounds, interests, and specialties, but united by the ideal of a National Socialist-Fascist Revolution, which aimed at cultural and economic regeneration and modernization. This movement was rooted in Revolutionary Syndicalism, which transformed into National Syndicalism, influenced by the ideas of Proudhon and Georges Sorel.

 

 Thus, the objective is not to definitively label Le Corbusier as a fascist, but rather to understand, from the perspective of the History of Ideas, the entire process of ambiguities and apparent paradoxes that has been studied and revealed over the past 20 years.

 

 In this regard, Le Corbusier was a Frenchman of the interwar period, like many others, navigating an ideological landscape that was nonconformist and proto-fascist—what A. James Gregor described as a Janus-headed movement, and Zeev Sternhell characterized as a synthesis that was “neither Right nor Left.”

 

 Gregor specifically examines the dualities and ambiguities of fascism’s “Marxist origins,” portraying it as a Janus-faced ideology. He considers fascism to be a “Marxist heresy,” developed by former Marxists who had become disillusioned with classical and orthodox Marxism’s ideological coherence and practical effectiveness. Instead, they pursued an equally radical revolution in its early phase, through the evolution and transformation of Revolutionary Syndicalism and Anarcho-Syndicalism into National Syndicalism (The Faces of Janus: Marxism and Fascism in the Twentieth Century, 2000).

 

 This Janus head had one face that remained seemingly distinct and isolated but was, in fact, merely hidden in the shadows—deprived of historical analysis and understanding. However, it is now slowly being illuminated through the evolution of historiography and the work of various historians.

 

 The highly revealing title Neither Right nor Left (Ni droite ni gauche, Paris, 1983) was chosen by Zeev Sternhell to illustrate his thesis, which he developed over the years in various publications. Sternhell argues that in France, even before World War I, the ideological essence of fascism already existed as a coherent body, though it had not yet been named. This thesis also sparked significant controversy (António Costa Pinto, Fascist Ideology Revisited: Zeev Sternhell and His Critics, European History Quarterly, 1986).

 

 The pre-fascism of Sorel, Gustave Le Bon, Henri de Man, and the neo-socialists Déat and Doriot (all of whom came from classical Marxism but later became dissident revolutionaries) was characterized by a rejection of Marxism’s purely materialist (dialectical materialist), historicist, and mechanistic perspective, which was trapped in the concept of class struggle and the final dictatorship of the proletariat.

 

 These groups, united by their common aversion to liberal and parliamentary democracy—which they saw as captive to global capitalism, led by corrupt elites connected to international finance and an exploitative materialistic hyper-individualism—began to criticize classical Marxism, deeming it ineffective in achieving revolutionary ideals.

 

 All of this was often tinged, to varying degrees, with latent or militant anti-Semitism. This was not always aligned with the obsessive biological racism of Nazism and Pan-Germanism but was nonetheless significant. It was based on the perception of Jews as déracinés (rootless cosmopolitans), hyper-individualists, and symbols of financial speculation—figures outside society and thus incapable of integration into the organic fabric of the original people, bound by blood and soil.

 

 Even before World War I, Sorel—deeply familiar with the workings of labor unions—had solidified his revisionist Marxist theory of revolution, replacing the engine of class struggle with the inspiring power of myth, which synthesized, unified, and motivated the revolution of the unionized masses.

 

 Sorel also rejected the abstract, internationalist nature of Marxist revolution, where the proletariat would supposedly rule universally by subjugating all other classes. Instead, he transformed this revolution into an organic, nationalist one, integrating all classes according to their talents and characteristics but subordinating them to the idea of the Nation.

 

 The horrors and heroism of World War I introduced a new dimension to this dynamic revolutionary myth: the union of veterans and workers.

 

 This brings us to the connection between fascism and the cult of violence (Sorel, Réflexions sur la violence, 1908), as a form of direct and liberating action, and the link between revolution and modernization—hence, modernism.

 

 Although the influence of Futurism, its manifesto (Marinetti), and its relationship with Mussolini are widely recognized in cultural and artistic history, post-World War II historiography struggled—or outright refused—to acknowledge any connection between fascism and modernism.

 

 Modernism was seen as belonging exclusively to the good side of history—associated with progressive Enlightenment ideals.

 

 Cases such as the involvement of Italian rationalist architects (like Terragni) in fascism—illustrated by their intense participation in the 1932 Mostra della Rivoluzione Fascista or the construction of the Casa del Fascio (Como) in 1936, built in pure Corbusian language—were deeply embarrassing and impossible to reconcile with the classical historiographical narrative of the time. (Similarly, in Portugal, the relationship between an entire generation of modernist architects and António Ferro, culminating in their massive participation in the Exposição do Mundo Português, deserves reevaluation.)

 

 It took historians such as Diane Ghirardo (Politics of a Masterpiece: The Vicenda of the Decoration of the Façade of the Casa del Fascio, Como, 1936-39, The Art Bulletin, 1980), and more recently, Roger Griffin (Modernism and Fascism: The Sense of a Beginning under Mussolini and Hitler, 2007), along with Mark Antliff (Avant-Garde Fascism: The Mobilization of Myth, Art, and Culture in France, 1909-1939, 2007), to illuminate the other face of Janus in the context of art and architecture.

 

 These studies challenge the traditional historiographical view that places Le Corbusier’s architectural and urban vision within the progressive socialist-utopian tradition, inherited from Enlightenment figures like Saint-Simon and Charles Fourier. Instead, they suggest that Le Corbusier’s vision of the future city—technocratic, hygienic, and modernizing—was, in essence, a concrete architectural representation of what Sorel called the Cité Française, the envisioned society of the fascist revolution.

 

 In 1925, Georges Valois, coming from Anarcho-Syndicalist Revolutionary circles, founded Le Faisceau (the first official French fascist party). Valois, who considered Marxism a “brother-enemy,” had an illustrative trajectory of the ambivalences and complex relations between fascism and Marxism, as well as between the revolutionary right and the revolutionary left.

 

 In 1911, as a member of the left-wing faction of Action Française, Valois developed the Cercle Proudhon. In 1925, the same year he founded Le Faisceau, Valois launched the newspaper Nouveau Siècle, which put him at odds with Maurras as a reaction to Valois' leftist militancy.

 

 Valois also lost the crucial financial support of certain magnates from Redressement Français, a patriotic movement of industrial tycoons that was anti-parliamentary and advocated for French technocratic and industrial modernization.

 

 In 1928, Le Faisceau, as founded by Valois, disappeared when he was expelled from it, being seen as too leftist.

 

 Valois followed a nonconformist path towards libertarian communism. During World War II, he joined the Resistance, was arrested, and died in a concentration camp (1945, Bergen-Belsen).

 

 Valois is particularly important in relation to Le Corbusier. Until 1929, the year of the famous Wall Street crash, Le Corbusier was an enthusiast of Taylorism, a doctrine developed by Henry Ford that linked industrial production methods and standardization to socio-economic progress. He shared this enthusiasm with Philippe Lamour and Valois, advocates of modernization and the artistic dimension of Modernism.

 

 Le Corbusier had intense contact with his later neighbor, Dr. De Winter, a biologist, hygienist, and proponent of eugenics with profoundly anti-Semitic elements. De Winter was a member of Le Faisceau and, from 1928 onward, accompanied Philippe Lamour in the new Parti Fasciste Révolutionnaire, born out of a split with Valois. He was an active contributor and collaborator in L'Esprit Nouveau, Le Corbusier’s publication, as well as in Plans, Prélude, and L’Homme Réel, to which Le Corbusier also contributed. De Winter even wrote the preface for Oeuvres complètes de Le Corbusier (1934-1938).

 

 In January 1927, a photograph of Le Corbusier was published in Nouveau Siècle, along with comments in the same edition by De Winter, presenting Le Corbusier as one of the main contributors to this official organ of Le Faisceau.

 

 On May 1, 1927, Nouveau Siècle dedicated an entire page to Le Corbusier’s Plan Voisin (1922). Three weeks later, Le Corbusier gave a slide presentation at Le Faisceau’s new headquarters, thereby solidifying his relationship and status within the party.

 

 Georges Valois enthusiastically stated:

 

 “We invited Le Corbusier to give a lecture with a very specific intention. I have no idea what Le Corbusier’s political ideas are. What I do know is that his work magnificently expresses, through powerful images, the deepest tendencies of Le Faisceau. Our comrades were surprised to see their deepest thoughts materialized in the City of the Future. These drawings represent and express the deepest thoughts of fascism, of the fascist revolution.”

 

 (This is a translated summary of passages from Simone Brott, Le Corbusier and the Anarcho-Syndicalist City, 2014).

 

 However, throughout his career, Le Corbusier was always careful not to explicitly commit himself regarding his political positions. Even in his private correspondence with his mother, this controlled precaution is evident—although recent revelations have uncovered some more compromising passages:

 

 “Money, the Jews (partly responsible), Freemasonry, everything will be subjected to just law. These shameful fortresses will be dismantled. They dominated everything.”

 

 “We are in the hands of a victor, and his attitude could be overwhelming. If the deal is sincere, Hitler could crown his life with a grand work: the reorganization of Europe.”

 

 One of his famous notes appears on the last page of Urbanisme, in which he praises the visionary authoritarianism of Louis XIV but adds: “This is not a statement of Action Française.”

 

 All of this aligns with the official version promoted by many architects and historians, who argue that Le Corbusier, despite his clear opportunism (evident in his reliance on the patronage of wealthy industrialists and financiers for all his projects), was a “naïve” figure, susceptible to manipulation by ideologues and politicians. This allowed him, after the war, to downplay the importance of his involvement in Vichy and to respond to interest shown in him by De Gaulle.

 

 Returning now to the relationship between Le Corbusier, Valois, and Le Faisceau, Simone Brott (Le Corbusier and the Anarcho-Syndicalist City, 2014) conducted research and developed a thesis on these issues, reaching surprising conclusions. According to her, it was not just a case of external mutual influence between Valois and Le Corbusier. When Valois used the terms “images” and “City of the Future,” he did so in line with Georges Sorel’s ideas.

 

 In Reflections on Violence (1908), Sorel had referred to the “fascist myth as a system of images that revolutionizes history” and stated that “images or myths are not descriptions of things but expressions of a will to action.”

 

 Brott argues that the encounter between Valois and Le Corbusier was an encounter between two manifestations of the same ideas, which had evolved in different forms but now met and recognized each other with enthusiasm.

 

 This conclusion contradicts the official historiographical view, which sees Le Corbusier’s architectural and urbanistic vision as part of the progressive revolution of utopian socialism, in the Enlightenment tradition of Saint-Simon and Charles Fourier.

 

 Le Corbusier’s image of a technocratic, hygienic, and modernized future city was, in reality, the materialization of an architectural vision in line with what Sorel called the Cité Française—a project for the future society envisioned by the Fascist Revolution.

 

 Architectural Historian

 

 Correction: In the 11th paragraph, where it mistakenly said "seen by him," it has now been correctly changed to "seen by them."

 


Le Corbusier e a direita radical e revolucionária

 

ANTÓNIO SÉRGIO ROSA DE CARVALHO 15/08/2016 - 07:00 (actualizado às 18:14 de 17/08/2016)

https://www.publico.pt/opiniao/noticia/le-corbusier-e-a-direita-radical-e-revolucionaria-1741227?page=-1

 

Le Corbusier sempre teve o cuidado de não se comprometer explicitamente no que respeita as suas posições políticas.

 

Aquilo que deveria representar o reconhecimento definitivo e a consagração de Le Corbusier no seu papel determinante no Urbanismo do Séc. XX (exposição organizada pelo Centro Pompidou, Le Corbusier - Mesures de l'homme, Abril-Agosto 2015), transformou-se no pesadelo definitivo para os seus organizadores.

 

Oportunamente, três livros foram publicados na ocasião: Le Corbusier, un fascisme français, de Xavier de Jarcy; Le Corbusier, une froide vision du monde, de Marc Perelman; e Un Corbusier, de François Chaslin.

 

As intensamente polémicas e incontornáveis revelações desenvolvidas por estas obras sobre o percurso ideológico de Le Corbusier, só surpreenderam o grande público, pois os estudiosos da Historiografia desenvolvida nos últimos 20 anos, especializada na génese do fascismo entre os finais do Séc. XIX e os primeiros quarenta anos do Séc. XX, viram apenas confirmado aquilo que já sabiam.

 

Não se trata apenas da estadia de Le Corbusier durante 18 meses em Vichy, tentando servir a “Revolution Nationale” de Pétain, acompanhando o seu amigo Hubert Lagardelle, Ministro do Trabalho no mesmo regime. Este período constitui apenas o momento culminante de todo um processo de contactos e participações com personagens como o Doutor de Winter, Georges Valois, Phlippe Lamour, Hubert Lagardelle, com particularidades, interesses e especialismos diversos, mas todos unidos pelo ideal de uma Revolução Nacional Socialista-Fascista, culturalmente e economicamente regeneradora e modernizante, vinda do Sindicalismo Revolucionário transformado em Nacional Sindicalismo na herança do pensamento de Proudhon e Georges Sorel.

 

Não se trata, portanto, de declarar definitivamente, com o dedo acusador, Le Corbusier como fascista, mas tentar compreender, na perspectiva da História das Ideias, todo um processo de ambiguidades e aparentes paradoxos que tem sido estudado e revelado nos últimos 20 anos.

 

Neste aspecto, Le Corbusier era um francês do Interbellum, como muitos outros, movimentando-se num conglomerado ideológico inconformista e proto-pré-fascista que A. James Gregor definiu como uma cabeça de Janus, e Zeev Sternhell como uma síntese “nem de Direita, nem de Esquerda”.

 

A. James Gregor trata nomeadamente as dualidades e ambiguidades das “origens” marxistas do fascismo como uma cabeça de Janus, fascismo que Gregor considera ideologicamente como uma “heresia marxista” ou melhor dito, uma heresia desenvolvida por ex-marxistas decepcionados e descrentes da coerência ideológica e eficácia prática do marxismo clássico e ortodoxo, e dirigidos a uma revolução não menos radical na sua fase inicial, através da evolução e transformação do Sindicalismo Revolucionário e Anarco Sindicalismo em Nacional Sindicalismo (The Faces of Janus: Marxism and Fascism in the Twentieth Century, 2000 ) .

 

Cabeça de Janus esta, na qual uma das faces tem estado aparentemente distinta e isolada, mas afinal apenas escondida na sombra, privada da luz da análise e compreensão histórica, e que lentamente, começa a ser iluminada pela evolução da Historiografia através do trabalho de diversos Historiadores.

 

O título sintético e altamente revelador “Nem direita, nem esquerda” (Ni droite ni gauche, Paris, 1983), é escolhido por Zeev Sternhell para ilustrar a sua tese construída ao longo dos anos em diversas publicações, na qual ele defende que em França, antes da Primeira Guerra Mundial, a essência ideológica do fascismo já existia como um corpo coerente, mas era um fenómeno para o qual um nome ainda não tinha sido inventado. Esta tese provocou também larga polémica (António Costa Pinto, Fascist Ideology Revisited: Zeev Sternhell and His Critics, European History Quarterly, 1986).

 

O que caracterizava o pré-fascismo de Sorel, Gustav le Bon, Henri de Man e dos Neo-Socialistas Déat e Doriot (todos eles vindos do Marxismo Clássico mas agora em revolta dissidente) era uma recusa da dimensão exclusivamente materialista (materialismo dialéctico) historicista/mecanicista do marxismo, prisioneiro do conceito de luta de classes e da final ditadura do proletariado.

 

Na sua alergia comum à democracia liberal e parlamentar, vista por eles como prisioneira de um capitalismo global liderado por elites corruptas ligadas à banca internacional e um híper egoísmo/individualismo materialista explorador do proletariado, estes grupos, em nome de um inconformismo radical, começam a criticar o marxismo clássico e a considerá-lo inefectivo nos seus ideais revolucionários.

 

Tudo isto tocado, com maior ou menor intensidade e gravidade, por um anti-semitismo latente ou militante, muitas vezes não identificável com o obsessivo racismo biológico do Nazismo e PanGermanismo, mas de forma não menos grave (tendo em conta os posteriores desenvolvimentos a partir dos anos 30 e durante a Segunda Guerra Mundial, e a atitude voluntária de perseguição e entrega aos Alemães da Zona Ocupada por Laval e Pétain de milhares de Judeus pelo Governo de Vichy), baseado no conceito do Judeu como “deraciné” e híper individualizado, símbolo da especulação financeira e bolsista, explorador do trabalho alheio, fora da sociedade, e portanto não integrável no tecido orgânico do “povo” original com raízes de sangue e terra.

 

Já antes da Primeira Guerra Mundial, portanto, Sorel, profundamente conhecedor da vida sindical, tinha consolidado a sua teoria de revisão marxista da revolução, substituindo o “motor” da luta de classes pelo empolgamento inspirador do mito, sintetizador, aglutinador e inspirador da revolução das massas sindicalizadas.

 

Sorel recusa também o carácter abstracto internacionalista da revolução marxista onde o proletariado dominará de forma universal, submetendo as outras classes, e transforma essa mesma revolução em revolução orgânica nacionalista, integradora de todas as classes nos seus talentos e características, mas submetidas no seu empreendedorismo à ideia da Nação.

 

O ímpeto e a vitalidade da revolução desencadeada pelo imaginário dinâmico da greve geral iria acordar e sacudir a burguesia do seu torpor capitalista e iria pôr o seu empreendedorismo ao serviço da Nação. Aqui chegámos à ideia do Povo, constituído por diversas classes e talentos, mas unidos pelo Estado Corporativo ao serviço da Nação, onde o Capitalismo e o empreendedorismo empresarial não são abolidos, mas são “moralizados” pela sua libertação do seu capitalismo internacionalista especulativo e globalizado, irão ser postos ao serviço de todos e da Nação.

 

Sem abdicar da sua dimensão social militante através do Sindicalismo Revolucionário, Sorel estabelece contactos e forma uma aliança com a Action Française de Charles Maurras, isto, numa fase anterior à primeira Guerra Mundial, em que a Action Française demonstrava ainda preocupações sociais. Depois da guerra, estas preocupações desaparecem e o carácter meramente conservador da Action Française levam a um distanciamento de Sorel. O mesmo acontece acentuadamente e posteriormente com Georges Valois.

 

As trincheiras da Primeira Guerra Mundial com todos os seus horrores e heroísmos trouxeram também uma nova dimensão a este processo de mito dinâmico e revolucionário: a união dos veteranos e produtores.

 

E, aqui, chegámos à relação entre o fascismo e a ideia do culto da violência (Sorel, Réflexions sur la violence, 1908), como acção directa e libertadora e também à ideia da revolução ligada à modernização e consequentemente ao Modernismo.

 

Embora o Futurismo, o seu Manifesto (Marinetti) e a sua relação com Mussolini sejam reconhecidos nas suas influências culturais e artísticas, a historiografia desenvolvida a seguir à Segunda Guerra Mundial teve grandes dificuldades, ou simplesmente negou, qualquer possibilidade de relação do fascismo com o modernismo.

 

O Modernismo encontrava-se exclusivamente do lado bom, aceitável, e ligado com a faceta progressiva vinda do Iluminismo.

 

Casos como a relação dos arquitectos racionalistas Italianos (Terragni) com o fascismo ilustrada na sua intensa participação em 1932 na Mostra della Rivoluzione fascista ou da construção da Casa del Fascio (Como) terminada em 1936 em pura linguagem Corbusiana, eram motivo de grande embaraço e impossíveis de “encaixar” e inserir na historiografia “clássica” da época. (Assim como, de resto, em Portugal, o percurso de toda uma geração modernista na sua relação com António Ferro culminada na participação em massa na Exposição do Mundo Português, merece ser “revisitada”).

 

Foi preciso esperar por historiadores como Diane Ghirardo (Politics of a Masterpiece: The Vicenda of the Decoration of the Façade of the Casa del Fascio, Como, 1936-39, The Art Bulletin Volume 62, Issue 3, 1980) e muito mais recentemente de forma muito completa, Roger Griffin (Modernism and Fascism: The Sense of a Beginning under Mussolini and Hitler, 2007) e, ligado especificamente à França e também ao caso de Corbusier, Mark Antliff (Avant-Garde Fascism: The Mobilization of Myth, Art, and Culture in France, 1909-1939, 2007), para que a “outra face de Janus” na perspectiva das Artes e Arquitectura, fosse mais nitidamente iluminada.

 

Em 1925, Georges Valois, vindo do Anarco-Sindicalismo-Revolucionário funda o Le Faisceau (o primeiro partido fascista oficial francês). Valois, que considerava o marxismo como um “irmão-inimigo”, teve um percurso ilustrativo das ambivalências e complicadas relações do fascismo com o marxismo, e da direita revolucionária com a esquerda revolucionária.

 

Em 1911, Valois desenvolve como membro da ala esquerdista da Action Française o “Cercle Proudhon”. Em 1925, o mesmo ano da fundação do Le Faisceau, Valois cria o jornal Nouveau Siécle que o põe em confronto com Maurras como reacção à militância esquerdista de Valois.

 

Valois perde também o apoio financeiro indispensável de alguns magnatas financeiros do Redressement Français, movimento patriótico de magnatas industriais, antiparlamentar e apologista da modernização tecnocrática e industrial francesa.

 

Em 1928, Le Faisceau, tal como tinha sido fundado por Valois, desaparece através da expulsão de Valois do mesmo, visto como demasiado esquerdista.

 

Valois desenvolve um percurso inconformista de comunismo libertário. Durante a guerra, entra na Resistência, é preso e morre num campo de concentração. (1945, Bergen-Belsen)

 

Valois é extremamente importante na sua relação com Le Corbusier. Até 1929, o ano do famoso “crash” da bolsa em Wall Street, Le Corbusier foi um entusiasta do taylorismo, doutrina desenvolvida por Henry Ford que associava métodos de produção e estandardização industrial ao progresso socio-económico. Ele partilhava este entusiasmo com Phlippe Lamour e Valois, apologistas da modernização e dimensão artística do Modernismo.

 

Le Corbusier tinha intensos contactos com o, mais tarde seu vizinho, doutor de Winter, biologista, higienista, apologista da eugenia com componentes profundamente anti-semitas. De Winter foi membro do Le Faisceau e acompanha Philippe Lamour a partir de 1928 no novo Parti Fasciste Révolutionnaire nascido da ruptura com Valois. Ele é um animador e colaborador intenso no “L' Esprit Nouveau” de Le Corbusier e nas publicações Plans, Prélude e L’Homme Réel, para as quais Le Corbusier também contribui. De Winter escreve ainda o prefácio das Oeuvres complètes de Le Corbusier (1934-1938 ).

 

Em Janeiro de 1927, a fotografia de Le Corbusier é publicada no Nouveau Siécle, juntamente com comentários na mesma edição de De Winter apresentando Le Corbusier como um dos principais animadores deste órgão oficial do partido Le Faisceau.

 

A 1 de Maio de 1927, o Nouveau Siècle dedica uma página inteira ao Plan Voisin (1922) de Le Corbusier. Três semanas mais tarde, Le Corbusier faz uma apresentação de slides na nova sede do Faisceau, consagrando assim a sua relação e o seu estatuto com o partido.

 

Georges Valois afirma, entusiasmado: “Foi com uma intenção muito precisa que convidámos Le Corbusier para dar uma conferência. Ignoro completamente quais são as ideias políticas de Le Corbusier. O que sei é que a sua obra exprime magnificamente, através de poderosas imagens, as mais profundas tendências do Le Faisceau. Os nossos camaradas viram com surpresa os seus mais profundos pensamentos materializados na Cidade do Futuro. Estes desenhos representam e exprimem os pensamentos mais profundos do fascismo, da revolução fascista” (resumo traduzido das passagens completas em Simone Brott, Le Corbusier and the anarcho-syndicalist city, 2014).

 

Ora, Le Corbusier através do seu percurso, sempre teve o cuidado de não se comprometer explicitamente no que respeita as suas posições políticas. Mesmo na sua correspondência particular com a sua mãe encontra-se a mesma precaução controlada, embora tenham havido recentemente revelações de algumas passagens mais comprometedoras. (“L’argent, les Juifs (en partie responsables), la franc-maçonnerie, tout subira la loi juste. Ces forteresses honteuses seront démantelées. Elles dominaient tout.” – “Nous sommes entre les mains d’un vainqueur et son attitude pourrait être écrasante. Si le marché est sincère, Hitler peut couronner sa vie par une œuvre grandiose: l’aménagement de l’Europe.”)

 

É famosa a sua nota na última página do Urbanisme quando da sua apologia pelo autoritarismo visionário de Luis XIV, que declarava: “Isto não é uma declaração da Action Française.”

 

Tudo isto integra-se na versão oficial de muitos arquitectos e historiadores que defendem que Le Corbusier, à parte do seu nítido oportunismo (nítido na sua relação com o mecenato de grandes industriais e financeiros em todos os seus projectos), era um “naif” utilizável e manipulável por ideólogos e políticos. Isto permitiu-lhe a seguir à guerra, de neutralizar a importância do seu investimento/estadia em Vichy, e de dar resposta ao interesse demonstrado por De Gaulle.

 

Voltando agora à relação de Le Corbusier com Valois e Le Faisceau. Simone Brott (Le Corbusier and the anarcho-syndicalist city, 2014) desenvolveu uma investigação e construiu uma tese à volta destas questões e formula conclusões surpreendentes. Segundo ela, não se trata apenas de uma influência mútua externa entre Valois e Le Corbusier. Quando Valois utiliza a expressão “imagens” e “Cidade do Futuro”, ele fá-lo na linha desenvolvida por Sorel.

 

Sorel na sua obra Réflexions sur la violence (1908) tinha-se referido ao “mito fascista como um sistema de imagens que revoluciona a história”, e ainda afirmado “as imagens ou os mitos não constituem descrições de coisas, mas são expressões de uma vontade de acção.”

 

Brott desenvolve a ideia de que o encontro entre Valois e Le Corbusier foi um encontro entre duas manifestações das mesmas ideias, que tinham evoluído em formas distintas, mas que agora se encontravam e se reconheciam mutuamente com entusiasmo.

 

Esta é uma conclusão antagónica à versão oficial da historiografia, que vê a visão arquitectónica e urbanista de Le Corbusier numa perspectiva da revolução progressiva do socialismo utópico, na herança iluminista de Saint-Simon e Charles Fourier.

 

A imagem de Le Corbusier da cidade futura tecnocrática, higiénica e modernizante era a concretização numa imagem arquitectónica concreta, na linha daquilo a que Sorel chamava a “Cité Française” como projecto da Sociedade futura, da Revolução Fascista.

 

Historiador de Arquitectura

 

 Correcção: no 11.º parágrafo, onde estava, por lapso, "vista por ele," passou a estar, correctamente, "vista por eles"