A escravidão no Brasil na visão de um artista russo

Fyodor Pavlov-Andreevich demonstra sofrimento para aludir à desigualdade no país

A performance em que Fyodor evocou os “tigres”, escravos que levavam os excrementos de seus senhores para o mar -Divulgação / Pedro Agilson

RIO - Na noite do último domingo, um homem branco acorrentado num poste de luz chamava a atenção de quem passava na esquina da Rua Oswaldo Cruz com a Praia do Flamengo. Uma mulher em um Mercedes-Benz parou e perguntou se precisava de ajuda. Carros da polícia e do Corpo de Bombeiros chegaram alternadamente; os poucos pedestres que passavam àquela hora tardia tiraram fotos. Pele branca, olhos claros num corpo de 1,91m, o russo Fyodor Pavlov-Andreevich, 39 anos, apesar de falar português, não respondeu às perguntas que lhe eram feitas. A não interação fazia parte da performance, uma das sete que compõem o projeto “Monumentos temporários”.

A imagem do branco nu (ele sentou sobre um pedaço de jornal, com o qual escondia os órgãos genitais quando necessário), acorrentado numa esquina do Flamengo, não surgiu aleatoriamente. O artista, com residência em Moscou, Londres e Rio de Janeiro, aludia ao episódio em que um jovem negro foi detido dessa forma por moradores do bairro, em 2014. Na época, o registro foi imediatamente associado ao modo como os escravos eram (mal)tratados. E a escravidão no Brasil, do passado e do presente, com uma embalagem mais moderna, conduz esse trabalho do artista.

— Fico espantado quando vou, por exemplo, a eventos de arte aqui e não vejo um negro. Como é possível, se em algumas cidades, como Salvador, eles são maioria? — indaga ele. — O modo como a escravidão se perpetuou no Brasil, com tanta desigualdade, é único no mundo.

URUBUS E PAU DE ARARA

O artista acorrentado a um poste de luz no Flamengo, na noite do último domingo - Divulgação / Pedro Agilson
A ideia de transformar o espanto em arte surgiu há um ano, na Praia da Laje, em Alagoas, quando Fyodor fazia uma residência artística. Encantado com o modo como os moradores locais escalavam os coqueiros, pediu que lhe ensinassem. Ao saber que os escravos recolhiam no alto as sementes, trocando-as por dinheiro e comprando sua liberdade, decidiu iniciar por ali o trabalho, ficando sete horas agarrado ao tronco de um coqueiro. O registro fotográfico da performance foi exposto na ArtRio, em setembro, pela Galeria Anita Schwartz. Na mesma praia, fez a segunda performance: deitou por sete horas na areia, ao lado de urubus que circundavam uma tartaruga morta. Na terceira, deixou-se amarrar como num pau de arara e ficou no mar, levado pelas ondas. Na quarta, pendurou-se pelo pé no galho de uma árvore. E no último fim de semana, no Rio, antes de se acorrentar ao poste, caminhou no sábado durante sete horas, do Maracanã à Avenida Brasil, carregando um cesto com um peso na cabeça, como os escravos que conduziam as fezes dos senhores brancos até o mar.

Todas as fases foram documentadas, em vídeo e foto, e serão exibidas numa exposição, ainda neste ano, em lugar a definir. Na abertura da mostra ele fará a sétima e última performance, que aludirá à forma como os escravos eram trazidos ao país nos navios negreiros.

Ao longo do trabalho, Fyodor foi bicado por urubus, machucado pelo atrito com a areia, contundido pelas horas passadas numa mesma posição. Ele diz que detesta sentir dor, mas o sofrimento, observa , era necessário ao trabalho.

— Sinto que falta relação com o sofrimento na arte contemporânea. Nos anos 1970, muitos artistas atuaram respondendo a um momento de agressividade no mundo. Eu mesmo prefiro ficar no conforto na praia. Mas não dá para falar de escravidão sem se colocar nesse lugar.

Estúdio em NY onde Louise Bourgeois morou e criou será aberto ao público

Imóvel no Chelsea poderá ser visitado a partir do meio do ano

Louise Bourgeois no estúdio em sua casa, no Chelsea, em Nova York, em 1974 - Divulgação

NOVA YORK - Diferentemente de Paris, onde os lares e estúdios de Auguste Rodin, Eugène Delacroix e Gustave Moreau estão no itinerário de turistas, Nova York tem uma escassez de casas de artistas convertidas em museus. Pintores e escultores em Manhattan geralmente habitam lofts e, quando se mudam, outros ocupam os espaços. Um dos poucos exemplos é a Spring Street 101, casa de Donald Judd no SoHo, que pode ser visitada sob reserva. O edifício, impecável, com quartos ensolarados que abrigam arte minimalista lindamente instalada e mobília desenhada por Judd, representa um esplendoroso yang masculino. Finalmente, ele tem seu yin correspondente: a escondida e entulhada morada em Chelsea que foi ocupada por Louise Bourgeois (1911-2010).

Parece adequado que a casa de Judd seja sustentada por colunas, e o lar de Bourgeois seja encimado por uma claraboia oval pintada com a matiz de água-marinha favorita da artista, uma mistura de azul prussiano, branco e um toque de ocre. Artista profundamente original, Bourgeois viveu por quase meio século no nº 347 da 20th Street, lado oeste, uma estreita casa geminada de tijolos do século XIX. Uma organização sem fins lucrativos, a Fundação Easton, criada por ela nos anos 1980, abriu o local para grupos pequenos de amantes da arte. No meio do ano, ela ficará acessível ao público, por meio de visitas agendadas no site theeastonfoundation.org. Pouco antes de morrer, em 2010, aos 98 anos, Bourgeois comprou a casa adjacente de seu vizinho, o figurinista William Ivey Long. Agora funciona como uma pequena galeria onde seu trabalho fica exposto, como acomodação temporária para acadêmicos de lugares distantes e como biblioteca e arquivo.

Sua própria residência, porém, é a atração principal. Mais de cinco anos depois de sua morte, a casa ainda dá a impressão de ser habitada pela mulher que a chamava de lar. Vestidos e casacos estão pendurados no armário. Revistas e livros de anotações enchem as estantes, que exibem a amplitude de interesses de Bourgeois, incluindo “Alegria de cozinhar”, o “Bagavadguitá” e as “Nove estórias” de J.D. Salinger.

Uma sensação de que, a qualquer momento, Bourgeois poderia entrar pela porta é aguçada pela atmosfera de decadência boêmia: com certeza, o lugar não está arrumado para ser visto por qualquer um a não ser sua proprietária. Retalhos grosseiros chamam a atenção para o afundamento de um teto de gesso. Um cooktop a gás com duas bocas que faz as vezes de fogão e uma televisão antiquíssima que fica ao lado de uma pequena cadeira dobrável de metal aprofundam a impressão de uma casa que não está pronta para receber visitas. “Eu estou usando a casa. A casa não está me usando”, disse ela a um visitante, quando tinha 70 e poucos anos.

A morada está sendo mantida o mais próximo possível da aparência que tinha quando a proprietária estava viva.

— A casa tem uma vibração — observou Jerry Gorovoy, que foi assistente e amigo de Bourgeois por 30 anos e hoje preside a fundação (cujo conselho diretor conta com os dois filhos da artista, Jean-Louis e Alain). — Tem um coração e uma alma. As pessoas ficam emocionadas quando vêm aqui.


SEM INTERESSE POR ‘COISAS BONITINHAS’


A decoração utilitária é condizente com a natureza pragmática de Bourgeois.

— Se o piso estivesse bom, e ela pudesse ficar de pé sobre ele, e ele suportasse suas esculturas, isso é tudo o que importava para ela — explicou Gorovoy. — Ela não tinha interesse em decoração, adornos e coisas bonitinhas.

Bourgeois comprou a casa geminada em 1962 por menos de US$ 30 mil, com seu marido, o historiador da arte Robert Goldwater, que ela conheceu em sua Paris natal em agosto de 1938, e com quem se casou um mês depois. Ela se mudou com ele para Nova York, onde criaram três filhos. Com a morte de Goldwater, em 1973, Bourgeois remodelou drasticamente o local. Ela saiu do quarto de casal dos fundos no segundo andar, deixando esse cômodo e a biblioteca de Goldwater, no terceiro andar, praticamente intocados, como um tipo de memorial. E instalou uma cama de solteiro no quarto da frente do segundo piso. (Muitos anos depois, quando uma artrite fez com que subir a escadaria se tornasse um fardo, transferiu seu quarto para um gabinete no primeiro andar.) Nos anos em que foi esposa e mãe, Bourgeois usou o porão para trabalhar. Depois, transformou o prédio inteiro num estúdio de arte.

— De um ponto de vista psicológico, ela fez transformações tão radicais como forma de lidar com uma perda extrema — opinou Gorovoy.

Uma explicação psicológica é apropriada para uma artista que demarcou sua carreira com linhas fortes de luto. Com a morte de sua mãe, em 1932, ela largou os estudos de matemática e filosofia para se tornar artista. Sua mãe, que restaurava tapeçaria antiga, representava um ideal de proteção para a filha. Suas icônicas esculturas de aranha foram uma alusão à mãe tecelã. A morte de seu pai, em 1951, levou-a a fazer sessões de psicanálise freudiana por décadas, e a morte de Goldwater libertou-a — ou forçou-a — a se dedicar totalmente à arte.


A Question of Interpretation

The public expects historians to deliver authoritative accounts of the past, yet different conclusions can be drawn from the same sources.


I recently read an amateur review of a history book with which I am familiar, which stated: ‘It is just an interpretation.’ The phrase has stayed with me, my mind lingering on the injustice of the ‘just’. What could the writer possibly mean by this attempted insult? By ‘interpretation’ did he or she really mean ‘speculation’? For an interpretation is based on evidence. What do the public think history – as a discipline, as a subject – is? Is anyone under any illusions that what historians write is ever anything but an interpretation?

'Truth Presenting a Mirror to the Vanities', Dutch, c.1625
In the term before Christmas I was teaching first-year undergraduates. At the end of each term those who have been lecturing and tutoring get together with each student to talk about how it has gone. They are bright students who made great progress, but a repeating theme that emerged from this general round-up was the need for them to develop their own voices in the midst of the historical argument: to imagine, with each essay, that they take their seat at the dinner table of historians who have written in that field and then join in the debate. This is no new counsel. I remember a comment written on one of my undergraduate history essays at Oxford by my then-tutor, Susan Brigden, with her characteristic elegance of phrase: ‘Don’t bow with such becoming submission to the secondary authorities.’

History is debate, history is discussion, history is a conversation. Hugh Trevor-Roper wrote in 1957, ‘history that is not controversial is dead history’. While some of this controversy comes from the pronouncements of historians as public intellectuals addressing the present day, much of it comes from them arguing with each other. The collective noun for historians is – honestly – an ‘argumentation’.

This is not in contradiction to saying that historians aim at truth. What sort of truth we might achieve is debatable. Justin Champion, in writing about what historians are for, states that ‘historical claims to truth are aesthetic and ethical, rather than empirical and objective’. Peter Novick argued that historians make up stories and ‘make no greater (but also no lesser) truth claims than poets or painters’. I think this is to go too far. The past did exist, the events of history did happen. Our job as historians is to get at them as best as possible, on the basis of the evidence we have, in a way that is epistemic: that fits with the facts we can establish. It is this forensic, interrogatory process that is the joy of being an historian. 

Yet the truth is, if you take a group of historians working on the same problem, writing at different times and in different places – even if they all use their evidence in a scrupulous, honest, critical and informed way – the conclusions they reach may differ. This is because we are all different people; our context, our formation, our insights are different and the histories we write are personal. If it were not so, there would be little point training up more students to be historians.

This is still a pursuit of truth. In each examination of a problem, even if new facts are not discovered, a new insight might be brought. The experience of the historian’s life might help her spot a previously missed connection, previous errors might be cleared up and some facts shown not to be facts. The historian might provide a context that gives a much needed, less partisan slant on an issue. There are reasons why one interpretation might be more plausible than another. But they are all still interpretations: the best informed, most thoroughly considered, factual of interpretations, but interpretations nonetheless. Even history that hides its workings (or to misuse Gibbon, its ‘nice and secret springs’) and presents itself as narrative – for historians are always storytellers – rests on interpretation.

Does this clash with a public expectation that historians will tell an unfettered, impartial and objective truth? Is an historian’s public credibility to make authoritative statements about what happened in the past undermined by the contingent nature of history?

I do not think so. The truth is what we must always seek. It is not possible to be both an historian and a liar. But what we arrive at is, ultimately, informed, epistemic, honest opinion: ‘just an interpretation’.

Jürgen Kaumkötter: 'The portrait is a motif of resistance against the Nazis'

The Nazis wanted to wipe out not only certain groups of people, but also any memory of them. Jürgen Kaumkötter, an expert in persecuted art, explains how artists resisted the Nazis in their work.


DW: Mr. Kaumkötter, you have created a memorial to many persecuted artists who refused to give up their art in spite of the barbarism of others. Why is this so important to you?

Jürgen Kaumkötter: I was born in Osnabrück and saw the Felix Nussbaum House being built. I studied art history and dealt very intensively with this painter's work. [Eds.: Felix Nussbaum was a German-Jewish artist who was killed in Auschwitz in 1944.] In 1999-2000, I went to Auschwitz for the first time to discuss an entirely different project. The director of the memorial center at the time said, "Mr. Kaumkötter, are you familiar with our art collection? You come from an art museum, right?"

What I saw changed my life and became an impactful issue for me. This place changes people who engage with it and causes them to see the present time in a more conscientious way. That's how persecuted artists became the issue I've dedicated my life to. It wasn't a deliberate decision at the beginning, but rather a process.

You've emphasized that it's important to view the works of these artists not only as historical witnesses but also as works of art. Why is that so important to you?

When art bears witness, it becomes a judicial court exhibit and then it can no longer be appreciated independently as an object or work of art. Many of these people were artists - who wanted to create art. And they didn't want to simply be reduced to victims from the perspective of the Nazis, the suppressors and the persecutors; they wanted to be independent people.

What kind of art was created in the midst of Nazi terror?

There is art that serves as a witness - representations of the horror and terror that people caused. But, interestingly, that is only a small part. The much larger part is made up of portraits that capture the individual rather than the crime. Many people at the time were certainly aware of the horrible suppression that was taking place and knew that the end was near and that death could catch up with them at any moment. That's why it was important to many people to leave something behind - something of themselves that would exist after they had died.

The Nazis tried to extinguish not only the people, but also anything that served as a reminder of them. That makes the portrait a very special motif of this resistance.

What is the significance of an artist grabbing a brush or pencil even in the face of imminent death?

It is an act of self-assertion. When you look at the images from the camps and ghettos, you see the de-individualization of the people. All of them were wearing "zebra suits" and their hair was cut off, so that the prisoners could be identified easily if they tried to escape. Basically, they were stripped of their dignity.

Painting as a means of self-assertion - that's what art can do.

One of Jürgen Kaumkötter's favorite works, pictured, depicts the daughter of the baker at Auschwitz

In your book, "Death Does Not Have the Last Word," you commemorate numerous painters and show their works. Which artist or which work moved you the most?

The picture on the cover of my book. It shows a portrait of a girl, a beautiful young woman. The artist, Jan Markiel, painted it out of gratitude for her support and help. She was the daughter of the baker in Auschwitz. The family baked medication into the bread so it could be smuggled into the camp.

Jan Markiel was part of a unit that had to pick up the bread. He painted this picture out of gratitude towards this family and gave it to them. It's multifaceted. On one level, there's the beautiful portrait - it almost looks like he painted a saint. Then there's the story behind it. That moved me. I was able to purchase the picture together with some friends and donated it to the memorial center at Auschwitz. I always get very emotional when I see this picture.

The exhibition "Art from the Holocaust" is currently showing at the German Historical Museum in Berlin. What's your take on the exhibition?

It's fabulous. Finally a major national German museum has managed to present an exhibition showing the artistic value of the works of victims and prisoners. In 2005, I organized an exhibition of artworks from Auschwitz, but it was rejected by the German Historical Museum. Fortunately, it was shown in the Centrum Judaicum in Berlin. This location protected the exhibition from misunderstandings.

But a lot has happened over the last 10 years. One thing is that the survivors will not be with us for much longer. What will happen then? Then the artworks, the literary legacy and the places themselves will most likely take on even greater significance. The emphasis will be shifted. That may be one reason why the German Historical Museum chose to do this exhibition now. Chancellor Merkel opened the show with a very moving speech and that demonstrates how highly it is valued.

Auschwitz was liberated 71 years ago. Why is it still so important to view the works that were created amidst an atmosphere of terror?

It is repeated over and over again, but it is always right. It cannot be repeated enough, so that nothing like the Holocaust ever happens again. This break in civilization, the uninhibited violence against an entire group of people, a minority that could not defend itself - we have an obligation to explain how this could begin.

Jürgen Kaumkötter is an art historian and author. He is the curator at the Center for Persecuted Art in Solingen and has initiated and planned numerous exhibitions.

International Holocaust Remembrance Day ceremonies under way

A number of events are underway around the world to mark International Holocaust Remembrance Day. January 27 also marks the 71st anniversary of the liberation of the Auschwitz concentration camp.


The guest of honor at the German Bundestag's hour of remembrance on Wednesday was Ruth Klüger, an Austrian Auschwitz survivor who flew from the United States to accept the invitation to speak in front of the Bundestag.

She spoke of "the coldest winter of her life" in 1944 and 1945, when Auschwitz was liberated. She had spent months leading up to the liberation working as a forced laborer.

A visit to Auschwitz

She lied about her age when she arrived at Auschwitz - she was 12 but was tipped off by another prisoner to say she was 15 - which landed her a spot on the work crew. Other prisoners who arrived with Klüger weren't so lucky, and were sent to the gas chambers at Auschwitz. This would have likely been Klüger's fate had she not been sent to work.

Prior to Klüger's speech, Bundestag President Norbert Lammert opened the hour of remembrance by announcing the opening of a new exhibit outlining the history of the more than 13 million men, women, and children from all over Europe who were forced to work for the Nazi regime.

German politicians spoke in front of a full house in the German Bundestag to mark Germany's annual recognition of its role in the Holocaust of World War II that saw 6 million Jews and other monitories killed at the hands of the Nazi regime.

Israel releases Eichmann letter

On Wednesday, Israel released a hand-written letter from Nazi war criminal Adolf Eichmann. Eichmann was involved in the logistics of Adolf Hitler's "Final Solution," which saw victims of the Nazi regime rounded up, brought to concentration camps, and executed. The letter was written two days before Eichmann's execution in 1962.

The letter was released by current Israeli President Reuven Rivlin at a ceremony to mark International Holocaust Remembrance Day. It was addressed to Yitzhak Ben-Zvi, Israel's president at the time.

"There is a need to draw a line between the leaders responsible and the people like me forced to serve as mere instruments in the hands of the leaders," Eichmann's letter read. "I am not able to recognize the court's ruling as just, and I ask, Your Honor Mr. President, to exercise your right to grant pardons, and order that the death penalty not be carried out."

The letter was signed in Jerusalem on May 29, 1962. On May 31, Eichmann was hanged.

Obama due at Yad Vashem ceremony

In Washington, US President Barack Obama is scheduled to honor four people who risked their lives to protect Jews during the Holocaust. The ceremony is to take place later on Wednesday at the Israeli embassy in Washington and will see four medals awarded posthumously.

The Righteous Among the Nations medals are awarded by the Yad Vashem Holocaust education and research in Jerusalem. It represents an official title awarded on behalf of Israel and the Jewish people to non-Jews who took risks to help Jews during the Holocaust.

Two of the award winners were Americans, while two came from Poland. Their medals will be accepted by relatives.

The Righteous Among the Nations ceremony is taking place in the United States for the first time.

German filmmaker Werner Herzog slams 'stupid' social media at Sundance

"I've never seen a single tweet that I found interesting at all," German film director Werner Herzog told reporters at the Sundance Film Festival. He was there to present his new documentary about the Internet.

Social media is a form of "stupidity," the 73-year-old filmmaker told the press on Monday (26.01.2016) at the Sundance Film Festival in Park City, Utah.

"What does impress you about 100,000 tweets, 100,000 times stupidities in 140 characters?" He explained that his social media is his kitchen table. "My wife and I cook and we have four guests maximum because the table doesn't hold more than six."

Herzog was in Utah to premiere his latest film, "Lo and Behold: Reveries of the Connected World," an essay on the origins of the Internet as well as the impact it has had on society. The film includes interviews with both experts and eccentrics, including PayPal co-founder Elon Musk and a rural, cellphone-less community in West Virginia.

"The Internet is an event that science fiction writers had not foreseen," he maintained, adding that writers instead had flying cars and space colonies on their radar.

The Sundance Film Festival says it aims to "brings the most original storytellers together"

German presence at Sundance

Herzog is not the only German filmmaker to present a world premiere at the Sundance Festival. Nicolette Krebitz is showing "Wild," a drama about a young woman who rethinks her life after an encounter with a wolf.

German filmmakers are also represented in a number of co-productions. The German-Lebanese film "Halal Love (and Sex)" examines relationships in Muslim-influenced Beirut. Iranian director Rokhsareh Ghaem Maghami introduces a young female rapper in Tehran in "Sonita." And "The Land of the Enlightened" traces the everyday life of children in war-torn Afghanistan.

Founded by Robert Redford in 1981, the Sundance Film Festival offers a platform to films not produced by the major Hollywood studios. This year, 123 movies from 37 countries are being presented through January 31.

Italy covers museum nudes for Iranian president

Italian premier Matteo Renzi has taken flak for hiding naked Roman statues from visiting leader Hassan Rouhani. Opposition politicians have accused him of "surrendering" Italy's culture.


Italian officials were the target of derision as it emerged late Tuesday that in order not to offendvisiting Iranian President Hassan Rouhani, naked statues in Rome's Capitoline Museum were covered up during his visit. According to museum staff, they were asked to block the ancient artworks off with wooden panels.

The decision came ahead of a Monday press conference in which Italian Prime Minister Matteo Renzi and Rouhani both gave speeches at the museum, in front of a large statue of Marcus Aurelius on horseback. Considering the 17 billion euros of business deals allegedly inked between Italy and Iran during Rouhani's two-day visit, it is clear why Renzi would go to such lengths to appease the leader of the socially conservative Islamic Republic.

'Cultural submission'


The famed bronze statue of Marcus Aurelius was prominently featured in photographs of the event

While Renzi's office refused to comment on the incident, the move to censor the artwork drew ridicule from all sides of Italy's political spectrum.

Lawmaker Luca Squeri of the center-right Forza Italia party charged that the choice was not respect, but "surrender."

"Respect for other cultures cannot and must not mean negating our own," he said, adding that "this isn't respect; it's canceling out differences and it's a kind of surrender."

On the other side of the aisle, the far-left SEL party also condemned the act, with politician Gianluca Peciola calling on the prime minister to explain a decision the party considers "a shame and mortification for art and culture understood as universal concepts."

Going even further, the hard-right Brothers of Italy party accused Renzi of "cultural submission," of the sort that "has surpassed every limit of decency."

Beyond hiding the nudes, which included a famous depiction of Venus from the second century BC, wine was also taken off the menu for Rouhani's meals with the premier and Italian President Sergio Mattarella, as strict followers of Islam do not imbibe alcohol.

This is not the first time Renzi has shielded visiting dignitaries from the nude figures so prevalent in Roman and Italian art. Last year, when the crown prince of the United Arab Emirates visited Florence, where the prime minister was once mayor, a more modern nude statue in the town hall was covered up with a cloth.

On Wednesday, President Rouhani will head to Paris, where French businessmen are hoping to outdo their Italian counterparts in cementing ties with a largely untapped market as relations with Iran and the West finally begin to thaw.

What is French secularism?

Although it once represented the victory of anti-clerical republicanism, laïcité has come to mean something very different.

The motto of the French republic on a church in Aups2015 was a traumatic year for France. 

It began with the murderous attack on the offices of the satirical magazine Charlie-Hebdo. Violence then returned on an even greater scale in November, with multiple attacks across the city on the Stade de France, the Bataclan Club and six restaurants, which left 130 people dead. President Hollande’s response was defiant. Enacting an Emergency Law dating from the Algerian conflict in the 1950s, he told citizens that ‘France is at war’ and vowed to ‘destroy IS’ (it was reported this week that the emergency measures would be extended until ISIS was defeated). In particular, the attacks have intensified a wider existential debate about French values. The historian Robert Frank speculated in the magazine les InRockuptibles (November 25th, 2015) how French jihadism might be linked to the humiliating legacy of colonialism in general and the Algerian War in particular; the kind of connection intriguingly absent in discussions of the equivalent British recruits to IS.

Speaking on BBC Radio 4 shortly before the November attacks, the French Ambassador in London, Sylvie Bermanm, identified secularism as a bedrock of French national identity. Introduced in 1905, secularism originally represented the victory of anti-clerical republicanism, which, ever since the 1789 French Revolution, had stigmatised the Roman Catholic Church as a bastion of reaction, ignorance and superstition. In concrete terms, the 1905 law dramatically limited the power of the Church by enshrining three key principles: strict separation of Church and State, freedom of conscience and freedom to exercise any faith. State schools became religious-free zones. Education was about the inculcation of Enlightenment principles as well as allegiance to the French nation. These foundation stones of the Republic were non-negotiable, although there were significant caveats. The 1905 law did not apply in Algeria, in theory an integral part of France, because with 4.5 million Muslims the French state did not want to relinquish control of Islam. Significantly, secularism was a centre piece of the 1946 Fourth Republic Constitution, the ideological defeat of the pro-Nazi Vichy regime that had reinstated the public role of the Roman Catholic Church.

In contemporary France, however, the conflict with the Roman Catholic Church is long dead, with the result that secularism has come to stand for something else: managing ethnic difference in society that is diametrically opposed to the community based approach advocated by Britain and the US (the two are usually lumped together by French defenders of secular principles as les Anglo-Saxons). According to this modern schema, secularism is about avoiding Anglo-Saxon style ghettos; coming together as citizens; and transcending narrow religious differences. This is why all conspicuous religion symbols are still banned in state schools. This is why the French state does not categorise people according to their ethnic origins when it comes to census data. Equally, this is why in the days following the Charlie-Hebdo attacks demonstrators flocked to the huge statue of Marianne on Place de République, a secular symbol of a secular sensibility that was evident in the way in which Marianne’s base was adorned with copies of Voltaire’s 1763 Treatise on Tolerance.

What, however, does this modern secularism mean for France’s five million Muslims? Many feel marginalised because of their low economic status. Yet, the question of their social integration returns continually to the issue of secularism and whether or not this secularism, the benchmark of French values, is compatible with Islam. This in turn has led some Muslims to conclude that Islam is been singled out by secularism, producing an underlying Islamophobia that can all too easily blend into outright hostility. As one French Muslim taxi-driver said to me: ‘Why is Zinedine Zidane [the great French footballer who is now manager of Real Madrid] French while the Kouachi brothers [the two Charlie-Hebdo attackers] are Algerian and Muslim. All three were born in France.’

In this climate of suspicion the main beneficiary has been Marine Le Pen’s National Front, which, although its ideological roots can be traced back to the right-wing authoritarianism embodied in the Vichy regime, has now rebranded itself as the upholder of a muscular secularism. This style of secularism, which sees Muslims as an internal enemy whose lack of French values means that many will gravitate towards religious extremism, struck a chord with voters who would normally have shied away from the far right. Consequently, in the first round of regional elections at the beginning of December the National Front rose to become the largest party in France with 28 per cent of the vote. This in turn means that the stage is set for a scenario where Marine Le Pen reaches the second round of the 2017 presidential elections, a scenario in which the true meaning of secularism will be a deciding factor.

Martin Evans is Professor of Modern European History at the University of Sussex. He is the author of Algeria: France’s Undeclared War (Oxford University Press, 2012).

Britain’s Willing Imperialists

Were 19th-century Britons as apathetic towards their nation’s vast Empire as some historians have argued?

Allegory of the British Empire Strangling the World, Italian, 1878

Twenty years after its publication, Daniel Jonah Goldhagen’s study, Hitler’s Willing Executioners, stands out for the rigour of its approach. Its argument, that the German people were more acquiescent in the crimes of Nazism than was once thought, is firmly grounded culturally, historically and philosophically. Yet how far are Goldhagen’s ideas relevant to current debates about the depth and extent of popular imperialism in 19th-century Britain? 

Goldhagen’s belief that researchers should address the time and place of their study ‘as an anthropologist would the world of a people about whom little is known’ is excellent advice for any researcher. Modern historians of British imperial culture may yet be guilty of underestimating the sheer ‘differentness’ of 19th-century Britain. Lytton Strachey’s observation that ‘the history of the Victorian Age will never be written: we know too much about it’ is surely relevant here. Strachey was writing long before the advent of digital archives; when historians can read Victorian newspapers from the comfort of their offices, the period can feel dangerously familiar.

Since before the turn of the millennium, important historical works have questioned whether ordinary British people were ever truly enthusiastic about imperialism. In their 1993 study, British Imperialism, P.J. Cain and A.G. Hopkins presented it as the result of ‘gentlemanly capitalism’. In their view, imperialism was the product of surplus capital deployed globally by genteel investors who turned to high finance as a way to generate wealth without having to engage directly in trade. Thinking about imperialism in this way absolves most of the British population of any responsibility for it. Imperialism becomes the product of an economic and social system in which the only true agents are the gentlemanly capitalists of the City of London.

A body of scholarship supports the idea that imperialism was never as popular as is sometimes imagined. In his 2004 work, The Absent-Minded Imperialists, Bernard Porter argued that public opinion cared little for Empire and that evidence of public engagement with imperialism would be better understood in alternative contexts. John Darwin’s The Empire Project (2009) takes a similar view, pointing out that Victorian celebrations of imperialism, however eyecatching, were ‘lost in the mass of non-imperial production’. Jonathan Rose’s The Intellectual Life of the British Working Classes (2001) argues that working-class memoirs tend to display apathy, even antipathy, towards matters imperial.

Goldhagen’s thoughts are of special relevance here. He argues that so firmly was antisemitism rooted in German society that the burden of proof should lie with those seeking to deny its prevalence, rather than with those seeking to make the claim that Germany was indeed antisemitic. Might the same logic be applicable to British popular imperialism? How easy is it to make a convincing case that the society at the centre of the largest empire the world has ever seen was not the home of widespread imperialist sentiments? 

Britain in the 19th century was not, after all, a totalitarian society; the period saw an unprecedented flowering of print media. Following the progressive repeal of the taxes on knowledge in the middle decades of the century, newspapers and periodicals carried a wide range of opinion to an ever larger audience and, while there were frequent challenges to specific imperial policies, opposition to the fundamental principles of imperialism were far less common. 

Where such challenges do appear – such as Marlow’s reflection in Joseph Conrad’sHeart of Darkness (1899) that imperialism ‘is not a pretty thing when one looks into it too much’ – it would be reasonable to accept them as evidence that such challenges were not unthinkable and then to ask why they were not more in evidence.

As Goldhagen points out: 
Notions fundamental to the dominant worldview and operation of a society, precisely because they are taken for granted, often are not expressed in a manner commensurate with their prominence and significance or, when uttered, seen as worthy by others to be noted and recorded. 

Were imperialist attitudes so ingrained into the psyche of ordinary British people that they were simply not worth remarking on? If so, a hypothetical absence of pro-imperial sentiments in the private communications of ordinary Britons cannot be interpreted as evidence of the absence of imperial attitudes.

Perhaps sceptical historians have been raising the wrong objections. Goldhagen’s approach might prompt different questions. Was imperialism such an integral part of British intellectual life that it went unmentioned by the majority? Does opposition to specific policies or episodes necessarily denote a rejection of the racial and imperial logic of the British Empire? Could a system of imperial finance operate sustainably without the participation of individual consumers, as well as wealthy investors? It is high time that scholars took up the challenge laid down by Porter’s thesis and asked if ordinary Britons were, if not enthusiastic, then at least willing imperialists.

Andrew Griffiths is Associate Lecturer in English at Plymouth University.

The fall of Berlin's Palace of the Republic

The Palace of the Republic in Berlin was regarded as a powerful symbol by the East German government and yet 10 years ago, it was decided that the Erich Honecker's ostentatious display had to go.


An East German landmark
A prestige project of East Germany, the Palace of the Republic opened on April 23, 1976 after a 32-month construction period. The building with its golden brown mirrored front housed not only the former East German Parliament, it also played host to rock concerts, theater productions and fashion shows. With its foyers, restaurants and a large event hall, the building served as a cultural palace.

A long, drawn-out story came to an end 10 years ago, when on January 19, 2006, the German parliament, the Bundestag, rejected all proposals aimed at retaining the Palace of the Republic. Just a week later, the cranes rolled in and demolition began on the landmark building of former East Germany.

The decision followed on one that the Bundestag had already made for the first time in 2002, when they approved the reconstruction of the Berlin City Palace - as the palace had formerly been known - in place of the communist monstrosity. Not everything has gone as planned, however, with the discovery that nearly 5,000 tons of highly toxic asbestos had contaminated the Palace of the Republic.

It wasn't until 2008 that the East German monument finally met its end. In its place today is the reconstructed Berlin City Palace, home to the Humboldt Forum.

Nos 150 anos de Euclydes da Cunha, veja dez curiosidades sobre Canudos

Litografia do Arraial de Canudos do arquivo do Instituto Histórico e Geográfico Brasileiro

A Guerra de Canudos, em 1897, foi imortalizada pela obra literária de Euclydes da Cunha. Só isso explica o levante popular ter entrado de forma tão forte para o imaginário brasileiro, enquanto outras revoltas mal são lembradas. Vendido pelo governo como um levante monarquista com influência internacional, Canudos mobilizou a república recém-nascida e a imprensa —que montou estrutura inédita para cobrir o conflito.

A Folha preparou uma lista de dez curiosidades sobre o confronto entre o exército e os fiéis de Antônio Conselheiro. Veja abaixo:

O corpo exumado de Antônio Conselheiro

1. A CABEÇA DE ANTÔNIO CONSELHEIRO

Depois de derrotar Canudos, os soldados desenterraram Antônio Conselheiro, cortaram sua cabeça e a levaram para Salvador a fim de ser estudada. Ela ficou na Faculdade de Medicina da Bahia até 1905, quando um incêndio destruiu o local.

2.TÍTULO ERA DADO PELA IGREJA CATÓLICA

O título de conselheiro existia de fato e era dado pela Igreja Católica a pessoas de vida exemplar, capazes de dar instruções religiosas.

3. ANTÔNIO CONSELHEIRO FOI PRESO

Em 1876, 20 antes da Guerra de Canudos, Antônio Conselheiro foi preso acusado de matar a mulher e a mãe. Segundo o biógrafo de Euclydes, Roberto Ventura, a acusação era infundada. Ao ser solto, o Conselheiro prometeu construir 25 igrejas na Bahia.

Grupo de jagunços de Canudos aprisionados pelo exército

4. CANUDOS ERA CHAMADO DE BELO MONTE

O nome pelo qual os fiéis conheciam o arraial era Belo Monte, escolhido por Antônio Conselheiro depois de inaugurar a Igreja de Santo Antônio no local.

5. O FRACASSO DO CANHÃO

Canudos era bombardeado com o canhão inglês Withworth, que pesava mais de sete toneladas, mas pifou logo no começo da batalha.

6. A ORIGEM DA PALAVRA FAVELA

A palavra "favela", hoje usada para definir comunidades carentes, vem do Morro da Favela, ao pé do qual ficava o Arraial de Canudos. O morro recebeu esse nome por conta da Jatropha phyllacantha, conhecida como faveleira ou mandioca-brava. Quando os soldados voltaram ao Rio de Janeiro, receberam autorização para morar no Morro da Providência. E passaram a chamar o local de favela.

7, FRADE PEDIU INTERVENÇÃO DO GOVERNO

Quem recomendou a intervenção do governo em Canudos foi um frade católico. Em 1895, o arcebispo da Bahia enviou os freis João Evangelista de Monte Marciano e Caetano de Leo para tentar dispersar os fiéis de Antônio Conselheiro. Na volta, o primeiro recomendou a ação do governo, porque os habitantes do local se recusavam a pagar impostos e obedecer à Igreja.

Oficiais do 29º de Infantaria, que combateram Canudos, fazem churrasco

8. EXÉRCITO FOI DERROTADO TRÊS VEZES

A primeira expedição do exército contra Canudos, fracassada, tinha 113 soldados. A segunda, também derrotada, já tinha 609 homens. Nem a terceira, com 1.300 praças, conseguiu vencer os fiéis de Antônio Conselheiro. O grupo só foi derrotado na quarta incursão do exército, que chegou a números superlativos: 6.160 soldados, 421 oficiais e 24 médicos.

9. SURGEM OS CORRESPONDENTES DE GUERRA

Canudos inaugurou a figura do correspondente de guerra na imprensa brasileira. As notícias eram levadas a pé ou de jegue até uma cidade próxima, onde havia sido instalado o telégrafo. Mas eram submetidas à censura militar e demoravam de 10 a 30 dias para ser publicadas.

10. EUCLYDES NÃO VIU DERROTA DE CANUDOS

Com febre, Euclydes da Cunha deixou a cobertura jornalística da Guerra de Canudos em 3 de outubro de 1897, dois dias antes da derrota do arraial.

Women of Ravensbrück

The site of the concentration camp near Berlin remains little known.


Together: Zwei Stehende (Two Women Standing) is a monument to Ravensbrück.The question of how we should commemorate the concentration camps is a live one. On a bitterly cold day in November I took the train from Berlin to Fürstenburg, a village to the north, where women destined for Ravensbrück were let out of their overcrowded cattle trucks to be marched to the camp itself.

Some French resisters, sent there as late as summer 1944, had endured months in other prisons and thought the new camp might at least offer them a chance to work outside, a hope they grasped on arrival as they smelled the salty Baltic air. But, as Jacqueline d’Alincourt wrote, they were soon disabused of this notion: ‘We were forced to step out amid the yelling of guards accompanied by their dogs, tugging at their leashes, showing their fangs. Fists rained down upon us.’

The camp location, amid forests and lakes, was chosen by Heinrich Himmler because it was far enough away for people not to know about it, yet within reach of the railway station at Fürstenburg, which, then as now, had a direct link to Berlin. Built in 1939 as the only all-women camp, Ravensbrück was intended for social outcasts, gypsies, political dissenters, foreign resisters, the disabled and other ‘inferior beings’. Some 130,000 women from 20 different nationalities passed through it. Around 30,000 to 50,000 people were killed there, yet Ravensbrück was not an extermination camp – only about 10 per cent of its inmates were Jews – rather it was a place of punishment, which provided slave labour to some of the thousands of sub-camps fuelling the Nazi war machine, the most notorious being the Siemens and Halske plant.

Among its inmates were Genèvieve de Gaulle, niece of the General, the British Special Operations Executive (SOE) agent Odette Sansom, who later became Odette Churchill, and French ethnographer Germaine Tillion, who composed an opera in the camp based on the story of Orpheus. It was also the scene of horrific medical experimentation on young Polish women, known as ‘lapins’ (guinea pigs), some of whom had their legs cut open and infected with bacteria and glass shards to simulate the effect of shrapnel. 

In March 1945, when it was clear the defeat of Nazi Germany was only a matter of time, the Swedish Red Cross sent buses to rescue some prisoners, but Ravensbrück was not liberated by the Red Army until April 30th. After the war the Soviets used the site as an army training camp and, although there is a Soviet-era tank serving as a memorial on the road from Fürstenburg, investigation of what went on there was discouraged once the Iron Curtain descended. Today there is a visitor centre and a building known as the Bunker – the prison cells within the camp used for additional punishment and torture – has been refurbished. The crematorium remains untouched.

Overlooking the lake, there is a large sculpture by Will Lammert, Tragende, of an emaciated woman carrying the burden of another human being. Yet, short of forcing all visitors to strip, starve, endure fear and beatings, how can one imagine what it felt like to be here in 1944. On the day I was there the vastness of the empty white Appelplatz was a powerful reminder of just how barren the site is of all signs of humanity. During my visit to Berlin, random questions to young Germans as to what they knew about Ravensbrück, only an hour away, met with vacant stares. 

Berlin has done much to draw attention to its Jewish past, with stolperstein plaques embedded in pavements recording former Jewish inhabitants murdered by the Nazis, memorial signposts in the former Jewish quarter and even pictures in some train stations of well-known Jews who once lived in that area. Yet Ravensbrück is little known and not encouraged to be part of any cultural itinerary for tourists. Perhaps that is as it should be, to avoid succumbing to what has been called ‘holocaust tourism’.

In April 2015, to mark the 70th anniversary of its liberation, 90 former inmates gathered, probably for the last time. Annette Chalut, arrested as a teenager, now 90 and honorary Chair of the International Ravensbrück Committee, said: ‘Vigilance is our absolute duty. Evil can return at any time, and we are not allowed to forget what happened here.’ With those remarks echoing in my head, I emerged from my hotel to see a group of schoolchildren on hands and knees scrubbing thestolperstein with toothbrushes and cleaning fluid. No, they had not been to Ravensbruck, they told me, but they knew of it. ‘It’s very important to know about your history’, volunteered one of the 14-year-old boys, ‘especially if you are German.’

Anne Sebba‘s next book is Les Parisiennes: How Women Lived, Loved and Died in Paris from 1939-49 (Weidenfeld and Nicolson, 2016).

Artist & Empire: Facing Britain’s Imperial Past at Tate Britain

How artists from Britain and around the world have responded to the dramas, tragedies and experiences of the Empire.

George Stubbs, A Cheetah and a Stag with two Indian Attendants 1765. © Manchester Art GalleryThis is a sponsored post on behalf of Tate Britain

In 21st century Britain, ‘empire’ is highly provocative. Its histories of war, conquest and slavery are difficult and painful to address but its legacy is everywhere and affects us all. Artist and Empire brings together extraordinary and unexpected works to explore how artists from Britain and around the world have responded to the dramas, tragedies and experiences of the Empire.

Featuring a vast array of objects from collections across Britain, including maps, flags, paintings, photographs, sculptures and artefacts, the exhibition examines how the histories of the British Empire have shaped art past and present. Contemporary works within the exhibition suggest that the ramifications of the Empire are far from over.

The show raises questions about ownership, authorship and how the value and meanings of these diverse objects have changed through history, it also asks what they still mean to us today.

Historic works by artists such as Joshua Reynolds and George Stubbs are shown with objects including Indian miniatures and Maori artefacts, as well as contemporary works by Hew Locke and Sonia Boyce. Through this variety of artworks from a complex mix of traditions, locations and cultures the fragmented history of the Empire can be told.

For more details, please visit:

Or telephone 020 7887 8888

Enfrentando doença degenerativa, Ricardo Piglia lança memórias

Ricardo Piglia tinha 16 anos e levava uma feliz vida de adolescente suburbano em Adrogué, na província de Buenos Aires, quando, subitamente, seu pai tomou a decisão de mudar-se dali. Peronista, dom Piglia tinha se metido numa disputa política local que ameaçava a paz de sua família naquela cidade.

O jovem Ricardo, inconformado, sentado no banco de trás do carro, ficou arrasado por ter de deixar os amigos.

O escritor argentino Ricardo Piglia

"A viagem foi para mim uma travessia para o desterro. Eram apenas 400 km até Mar Del Plata [onde a família se instalou], mas eu estava deixando para trás toda uma forma de vida. Foi um rito de passagem. Soa como um exagero, mas as experiências decisivas surgem para nós como exageros. O que importa nos fatos é a intensidade que atribuímos a eles", diz o escritor em entrevista à Folha.

As dificuldades para se adaptar à nova cidade lançaram Piglia numa viagem interior. Começou, então, a escrever um diário, que mantém até hoje e já ocupa mais de 327 cadernos de anotações, guardados em 40 caixas.

"Foi o começo da literatura para mim. Se não tivesse começado a escrevê-lo naquela época, não teria escrito mais nada depois", explica.

INÉDITOS

Desde aquele longínquo 1957, Piglia, hoje aos 74, estava determinado a manter esses escritos pessoais inéditos. Há alguns anos, soltou partes no jornal espanhol "El País". Estava experimentando a ideia de torná-lo público quando soube que sofre de esclerose lateral amiotrófica, uma doença degenerativa que vem limitando sua capacidade de trabalho.

Imediatamente, foi acometido por um entusiasmo de produção. O primeiro volume das memórias, reeditadas e com intervenções, chega às livrarias na Argentina e em outros países de língua hispânica (sem previsão para o Brasil). Com a ajuda de uma assistente, Piglia dá forma, às pressas, aos dois volumes que completam a série.


Os livros saem com os títulos de "Los Diarios de Emilio Renzi", nome de seu alter ego, presente em obras como "Respiração Artificial" e "Alvo Noturno" (ambos publicados aqui pela Companhia das Letras). Piglia afirma que usa esse recurso porque "é preciso dar uma reviravolta irônica às intimidades".

O escritor preferiu não trabalhar com suas anotações em uma ordem cronológica rígida. "Escolhia os cadernos ao acaso e os copiava. A vida é mais fácil de se levar adiante se é fragmentada e aos saltos. Há uma pulsão à la Proust de entrar e sair do tempo recuperado. As notas manuscritas e datadas foram minha 'madeleine' e minha máquina do tempo", resume.

Paralelamente ao lançamento do primeiro volume, veio a público "327 Cuadernos", documentário de Andrés Di Tella. O filme traz o autor lendo, nos dias de hoje, passagens de suas anotações desde a adolescência, misturadas a imagens da conturbada história argentina desde então –ditaduras militares, os governos de Juan Domingo Perón (1895-1974).

"Desde que ficou doente, e inclusive desde que já não podia mais escrever sozinho, Piglia começou a trabalhar como nunca. Além da edição dos diários, terminou um livro de ensaios ['Las Tres Vanguardias'], colaborou no documentário, e não me surpreenderia se estiver trabalhando em alguma outra coisa", diz à Folha Di Tella –cujo filme deve ser exibido no Brasil neste semestre.

TENACIDADE

Para o amigo e escritor Edgardo Cozarinsky, "a doença costuma ser um motor para a criatividade. Há alguns meses, Ricardo me disse: 'Não me sinto doente. Meu corpo está doente'". Cozarinsky conta que se impressionou com seu método de trabalho: "A saúde já o obriga a ditar por várias horas diárias, e ele o faz com uma tenacidade exemplar. É uma vitória da vitalidade contra obstáculos que pareciam fatais."

Piglia diz que o filme jogou outra luz aos escritos. "O diário foi o motor de toda minha escritura. Mas não é a mesma coisa escrever sobre algo pessoal e ser filmado falando disso. A exposição fazia com que fosse difícil referir-me ao que estava nos cadernos. Essa tensão dá interesse ao documentário."

Nas últimas semanas, o autor voltou aos noticiários por enfrentar seu plano de saúde, que se recusava a cumprir uma determinação da Justiça e oferecer tratamento com uma nova medicação, o GM604. O convênio alegava que a droga estava em fase de teste e por isso recusava-se a bancar o valor de cada dose, de US$ 120.000 (cerca de R$ 480.000).

Foi aí que o artista Roberto Jacoby iniciou a um abaixo-assinado para pressionar o convênio. Em poucos dias, alcançou mais de 80 mil assinaturas e o plano cedeu. A esclerose lateral amiotrófica não tem cura, mas um bom tratamento pode retardar os efeitos.

Para Piglia, pode significar o tempo que precisa para completar o legado que quer deixar como um dos escritores essenciais da literatura latino-americana contemporânea.

Limited edition of 'Mein Kampf' drives up prices online

The first print run for the new critical edition of "Mein Kampf" was surprisingly modest: 4,000 copies. With all the debate surrounding the work, no wonder interest in the book is much higher.



The Institute for Contemporary History in Munich (IfZ) was cautious in its expectations by starting out with 4,000 copies: Already on January 8, the day the scholarly edition of Hitler's manifesto was released, 15,000 pre-orders had been placed. A second impression of the 2,000-page long work is therefore underway.

However, there was good reason for the caution: A huge first run could have led to sales that would have inadvertently pushed the anti-Semitic work onto the bestseller lists, an embarrassment not worth risking.

Although many booksellers are taking pre-orders, some people are ready to pay a
high price to get their hands on the controversial book right away. It could be found on Amazon on Wednesday (13.01.2015) for 375 euros ($408).

An Amazon spokesperson said that this was done without the company's consent, as third-party resellers were not allowed to violate the existing fixed book price agreements. Amazon plans to donate all of its "Mein Kampf" profits to a charity supporting victims of the Holocaust.

The critical edition is also being auctioned on Ebay. One copy was sold for 276 euros on Wednesday, through an auction which started at one euro.

A spokesperson for IfZ said that such prices were exaggerated, and that the book would be available shortly - those who can wait a little will then pay the normal price of 59 euros.

The Forgotten Archduchess

Marie-Louise, Napoleon’s second, lesser-known wife, achieved great political success while exiled in Parma. She should not be forgotten, argues Deborah Jay.

Portrait in 1810 by Jean-Baptiste Isabey

Everyone has heard of Josephine. Yet it was only when Napoleon found love with Marie-Louise, Habsburg archduchess and daughter of his enemy, Austrian emperor Francis II/I, that he found true marital happiness. Despite this, next to Josephine, Marie-Louise is almost unknown. 

When Josephine failed to deliver the heir Napoleon believed he needed, he looked to the leading dynasties of Europe for a second wife. Having subdued Austria for a second time in 1809, he forced Emperor Francis to surrender his eldest daughter on pain of losing his Habsburg throne. 

Aged 18, highly educated, witty and caring, Marie-Louise understood the dynastic marriage market and her duty to emperor and country. As instructed, she set aside preconceptions about her husband and his countrymen and, during her tenure as empress, all would fail to engage her on the subject of her great-aunt Marie-Antoinette or any other subject that might be noxious to the Franco-Austrian alliance. She was more than a match for her overweening husband, whose misjudgments during their years together were already sowing his downfall. 

Napoleon adored her from the moment he set eyes on her. Unlike Josephine, she appreciated his lovemaking and returned his affection, treasuring his gifts, attention and love-letters. In 1811, she produced the yearned-for son. Napoleon Francis was to be known as the king of Rome, Napoleon having ejected the pope and subsumed his capital into France.

Twice – in the Spring of 1813 and in January 1814 – the French emperor appointed his wife regent of France before setting out for battle, so much did he trust her good sense, integrity and loyalty to her adopted country. 

Yet all unravelled in March 1814, when Napoleon’s fortunes changed and Francis and his allies laid siege to Paris. Rather than allowing Marie-Louise to stand and confront the invaders, Napoleon’s courtiers and family urged her to flee with her son to the Loire in accordance with Napoleon’s instructions. Napoleon did not summon Marie-Louise to him but told her to await her father’s decision, believing that his father-in-law was bound to favour reunion of husband, wife and child. Napoleon was wrong. Marie-Louise and her son were taken to Vienna effectively as hostages. The Austrian Chancellor, Klemens Metternich, ensured Marie-Louise never received Napoleon’s letters and that an attractive equerry was charged to detach her emotionally from him. She was forced to sit out negotiations between the Great Powers at the Vienna Congress, while Napoleon prepared accommodation for her on Elba, of which he was now king. In the Spring of 1815, she learned that Napoleon had escaped his kingdom, had seized power in Paris and demanded her return. Furious at what she perceived to be his irresponsible behaviour and unaware of his justified grievances, Marie-Louise declared her detachment from his enterprise.

As the allies proclaimed victory after Waterloo, she was rewarded by the grant of the duchies of Parma, Piacenza and Guastalla, promised her on Napoleon’s first abdication in 1814. In March 1816, she set out for Parma with her equerry, now her chief administrator. Her son, now five, was not allowed to accompany her, too dangerous a Bonaparte mascot to live on the politically volatile Italian peninsula. In Parma, living under constant threat of eviction, Marie-Louise flouted Austrian dictates and proved herself to be the most enlightened sovereign of her age, her duchies a place of refuge for many of the political dissidents of the Italian Risorgimento. Forced to lead a double life, she scandalised Europe when, upon the death of her chief administrator, the existence of her second secret family was revealed. She held on to her duchies as the fires of Italian unification became irrepressible, revolution breaking out across Europe within three weeks of her death. Her numerous achievements are still celebrated today, 200 years since she set foot in Parma.

Deborah Jay is the author of Napoleon’s Other Wife (Rosa’s Press, 2015).

Solidariedade com refugiados inspira "despalavra do ano"

Com o termo "Gutmensch" ("gente boazinha"), os detratores nos meios populistas de direita e na imprensa reduzem as iniciativas de ajuda a atos de ingenuidade de cidadãos com síndrome de bom samaritano.

Especialista Nina Janich apresenta em Darmstadt a seleção da ação de crítica linguística

A cada ano, na cidade de Darmstadt, um júri elege a "despalavra" alemã do ano. A "ação de crítica linguística" visa isolar conceitos que – por vezes despercebidos pela população e a mídia – se destacaram pelo uso pejorativo, politicamente incorreto ou discriminatório.

Anunciada nesta terça-feira (12/11), em 2015 a "honra" coube a Gutmensch – "gente boazinha". Embora composta por dois termos perfeitamente corriqueiros – gut (bom) e Mensch (ser humano) –, a assimilação de ambos num único substantivo adiciona uma conotação de desprezo e malícia à mais nova "despalavra".

Foi inegavelmente com essa intenção que ela despontou repetidamente nas discussões sobre a onda de migrantes no país. Como explicou a professora Nina Janich, presidente do júri e porta-voz da "ação linguística", ao tachá-los de Gutmenschen, os detratores dos muitos cidadãos que se engajam nos abrigos para refugiados, investindo o próprio tempo, energia, dinheiro e disponibilidade emocional, os reduzem a gente simplória, com síndrome de bom samaritano.

Dos meios extremistas para as manchetes

Assim como os aparentados Gutbürger e Gutmenschentum, a "despalavra" de 2015 já não se confina mais ao uso como "conceito de guerra" nos meios populistas de direita, apontou o júri composto por quatro linguistas, um jornalista e um humorista.

Jornalistas de veículos consagrados passaram a adotar tais conceitos até mesmo em suas manchetes, como "crítica indiscriminada" às ações de solidariedade aos refugiados. Entre outros efeitos, tal emprego impede um "intercâmbio democrático de argumentos objetivos".

O termo não é inédito na ação promovida por uma associação independente: em 2011 ele já figurara em segundo lugar na votação. No entanto, o atual debate sobre o afluxo migratório voltou a colocá-lo em evidência. "O conceito Gutmensch ganhou certa atualidade", confirmou o diretor do Instituto da Língua Alemã de Mannheim, Ludwig M. Eichinger.

Para Margarete Jäger, diretora do Instituto de Pesquisa Linguística e Social de Duisburg, a nova "despalavra" lembra a "estratégia discursiva" dos nazistas, que tentavam "difamar e isolar" linguisticamente os outros. Também Nils Bahlo, do Instituto de Germanística da Universidade de Münster, vê evocada "a retórica difamatória da época nazista".

Instrumentalizada pelos movimentos anti-imigração, "imprensa da mentira" foi "despalavra" de 2014

Tema ainda não está esgotado

Promovida desde 1991, com base em sugestões apresentadas pela própria população, a ação crítica "Unwort des Jahres" visa conscientizar contra termos que violem os princípios da dignidade humana e da democracia, ao "discriminar certos grupos sociais" ou por serem "eufemísticos, dissimuladores ou mesmo falaciosos".

Após Lügenpresse ("imprensa da mentira") no ano anterior, retirada do vocabulário dos movimentos anti-imigração como o Pegida (sigla em alemão para "Europeus patriotas contra a islamização do Ocidente"), a onda de refugiados esteve presente como nunca entre as 1.644 sugestões de "despalavra" propostas em 2015.

Nas três horas que levou para sua seleção, o júri também considerou opções como Flüchtlingskrise("crise de refugiados") e Asylkritiker("críticos do asilo"). Com vista a futuras votações, a porta-voz Janich anunciou: "Nós ainda não esgotamos os termos sobre a temática dos refugiados."

"Ninguém faz ciência com a Wikipédia"

Enciclopédia online completa 15 anos, entre os sites mais visitados em vários países. Mas o cientista da comunicação Rudolf Stöber vê limitações no projeto, desenvolvido de forma colaborativa.

Rudolf Stöber é professor de Ciências da Comunicação na Universidade de Bamberg e tem como seus principais campos de pesquisa as transformações das áreas de comunicação, publicidade e mídia. Por ocasião dos 15 anos da Wikipédia, ele conversou com a Deutsche Welle sobre as vantagens e limitações da enciclopédia online. O especialista considera a obra, desenvolvida de forma colaborativa na internet, uma boa fonte de conhecimento, mas ressalta que ela não substitui o conhecimento encontrado na literatura científica convencional.

DW: Como o senhor usa a Wikipédia enquanto cientista da comunicação?

Rudolf Stöber: Uso a Wikipédia principalmente como uma extensão da investigação e para pegar ideias sobre coisas em que posso me aprofundar.

Quais as reservas que o senhor tem quanto a ela, em termos de padrão de qualidade e confiabilidade?

Isso é algo que não consigo responder genericamente, pois isso depende muito do contexto temático. Artigos que se encontram dentro do discurso político geral – como "crise de refugiados", por exemplo –, devem ser lidos com cautela. Mas é possível ver o histórico de versões. Basicamente, a Wikipédia se tornou uma enciclopédia muito boa. Minha principal reserva, de uma perspectiva científica, é que alguns alunos e até mesmo alguns colegas meus acreditam que, nela, estão fazendo ciência, o que é um grande mal-entendido.

Rudolf Stöber: "rapidez é uma qualidade e
também um defeito da Wikipédia"
Isso significa, então, que a fonte Wikipédia deve ser sustentada por outras fontes?

Tem que ser assim. Isto também está ligado ao fato de a Wikipédia ser uma enciclopédia. Uma enciclopédia tem que reproduzir certa quantidade de conhecimento condensado. E a Wikipédia faz isso muito bem, com certas limitações. Pois a tendência é que os artigos dela inchem com o tempo. Comparando às enciclopédias tradicionais, como Brockhaus ou a Encyclopedia Britannica, eu gostaria que houvesse informações mais precisas e mais curtas. Em geral, enciclopédias oferecem conhecimento condensado de coisas sobre as quais as pessoas já têm, bem ou mal, alguma informação – elas não têm nada a ver com a tarefa principal da ciência, que é levantar questões e problemas. Ela responde perguntas segundo o conhecimento factual (o que é algo), mas não segundo um conhecimento de metodologia científica, orientado pelo problema (como algo ocorre).

Quais são os maiores pontos fracos da Wikipédia?

Eu posso dizer que o meu próprio campo, a ciência da comunicação, está muito mal representado. Meus colegas sentem falta, nos procedimentos de gestão de qualidade, do mesmo nível que em publicações científicas. Nós nos sentimos, em parte, julgados por pessoas que não são especialistas. Por isso, muitos colegas meus preferem não se intrometer, e acho que isso ocorre de forma semelhante em outros campos. E isso me legitima para lembrar aos estudantes que também existem enciclopédias, revistas e livros especializados.

A Wikipédia não é apenas uma plataforma de conhecimento, mas, por vezes, também um campo de batalha em que são travadas disputas sobre interpretações e explicações corretas. Como o senhor avalia esta luta em torno da verdade?

Nesse ponto, a Wikipédia tem uma vantagem incrível, por publicar o histórico de versões. Esta transparência é positiva e faz da Wikipédia quase em um objeto do meu próprio campo de pesquisa. Mas, em princípio, a atualidade diária é algo impróprio para uma enciclopédia. Uma qualidade dessa enciclopédia, que é a de reagir a fatos muito atuais, também um motivo para seu defeito, que é o de ir além da tarefa verdadeira de uma enciclopédia e apresentar mais do que conhecimento factual condensado. Mas nesse ponto não há como, estruturalmente, fazer mudanças.

Enciclopédias tradicionais, como a alemã Brockhaus, 
estão desaparecendo

Segundo a própria Wikipédia, ela já possui 37 milhões de artigos em quase 300 idiomas. Nos EUA, a enciclopédia online está em sexto lugar e, na Alemanha, em sétimo lugar entre os sites mais visitados. No entanto, a Wikipédia tem sido repetidamente acusada de ser uma plataforma vulnerável ao vandalismo e à influência de empresas e organizações sobre seu conteúdo. Há alguma verdade nessa crítica?

Eu não avaliei isso estatisticamente, mas é um problema que não pode ser resolvido, essa influência de escritores ​​que escondem sua verdadeira identidade. Devido à sofisticação com que certas mensagens publicitárias são lançadas, muitas vezes não conseguimos nos dar conta disso tão rapidamente. Eu acho que isso, necessariamente, tem relação com esta estrutura de comunidade aberta, sendo algo que não pode ser solucionado.

Mas isso, sem dúvida, é muito grave. Basta observar os verbetes de certos políticos, em torno dos quais houve as chamadas "guerras de edição" ou verbetes na Wikipédia em inglês sobre o conflito Ucrânia-Rússia. Você sabe do que estamos falando. Só é preciso ver os números dando conta da alta frequência de mudanças, para lá e para cá, e aí você percebe que o verbete é problemático.

Na Alemanha, a Wikipédia registra mais de um bilhão de visitas por mês. Enquanto a Wikipédia navega através da internet, as enciclopédias emblemáticas alemãs, como a boa e velha Brockhaus, vão afundando lentamente...

De certa forma, sim, por causa do rigor e da precisão das enciclopédias antigas. É lamentável que a Brockhaus e a Encyclopedia Britannica tenham sumido. Estas enciclopédias tinham um sistema finamente graduado de duração variável, dependendo da importância. Claro que podemos também argumentar que, por outro lado, a relevância da comunidade da internet não deve ser desprezada.