The Beatitudes of The Left

Here, from the official website of the socialist deputy (Loire-Atlantique), Monique Rabin, is the conscience and negotiating position of the French extreme Left in its purest form. Unless The Europeans has been gulled mercilessly by an online hoax, it preserves intact the holy writ of French revolutionary sentiment: that the Empire perish, but that its values endure… No country on earth, as it now seems, is more deeply mired in its own humanitarian ‘values’ than France.

Unless it is Germany. The common governing sentiment of these two exceptional countries has finally led Europe over the brink into full view of ultimate demographic extinction. Self-extinguishing values are no values at all, but this black irony is forever lost on the European Left. In France, during the present politically consanguineous tenure of president François Hollande and prime ministers Jean-Marc Ayrault, then Manuel Valls, the Parti socialiste has become crazed by fissures both deep and delicate, and paralyzed…..well, by paralysis. The general mood in the country now runs bitterly counter to the high moral sentiments of Mme Rabin, as expressed in her atavistic appeal to socialist purity: an appeal whose echo from government grows weaker by the hour, and must inevitably disappear altogether.

Mme Rabin’s open and unlimited invitation to migrants to come to France is larded in the original with intimate thou-thines, while she dismisses the French taxpayers who must shoulder the huge burden without complaint as the ugly face of France. French SDF, the sans domicile fixe, receive no mention at all, although it is certain that pressure from immigration is acting to slow or perhaps even stall their own migration from the streets into social housing. Such, in France, is the Left’s haine de soi [self-contempt], not to mention its sweet companion, self-satisfaction, so lovingly dissected in this remarkable contribution to national suicide.

Welcome to our country, you will be at home here

From the official website of deputy Monique Rabin, Parti socialiste.
Published 21st October, 2016.

❝ I do not know who you are, or where you come from. I do not know from what you are fleeing: is it war? Torture? Anxiety for loved-ones faced with extreme poverty? I know that it must be absolutely wrenching for you to leave your family, your house, your job [translator’s emphasis]. In coming to us, you have faced the greed of people-smugglers, the seas, the cold, the street.

On the 25th August, 2015, it was raining heavily in Calais. I caught sight of you in the “Jungle”. Instantly, in the pit of my stomach, you were no longer “the migration crisis”, but became a person. I felt so sorry for your suffering: so visible, so shameful.

Some French people here feel that your proper place is over there on the battle fields, or in the camps. Sadder still, the French have forgotten that some of their own people, like you, had to leave our country in order to escape the death trains, before being received by the Just in countries that opened their arms to them.

Know that these people do not reflect the spirit of France.

Here in our Pays de Retz, land of moderation and humanity, generous providers have sprung up to receive you and your loved-ones. In our communities, local officials have been engaged from the outset — and the State representative has played his full part — with participation in a pilot scheme to offer you a place of rest at Saint Brévin-les-Pins, and to help you with your [asylum] applications and your personal recovery.

These various avenues of support show the other face of France.

In order to respond to the hatred that has been allowed to manifest itself, I want to say to you again, to you and yours, without naivety, that we harbour no fear of you. You are our friends, our brothers, our fathers, human beings with your weaknesses and strengths. To hear it said that migrants must be criminals, fills me with horror. On the contrary, I would like to help you to rebuild your dignity, which was mocked on the high seas and in the scrub of Calais. To you, the unknown migrant, I say welcome. I shall be happy to meet you, to hear you, to share. This feeling of brotherhood will help you, I hope, to overcome the obstacles that impede your path. For soon you will receive papers regularizing your presence amongst us. At that critical moment, you will without doubt be very happy. But your struggle will not be over: your loved-ones will still be exposed to extreme poverty, perhaps even to death. You would like to work hard to support them. You will react with sorrow to the lack of recognition, because your qualifications will be of no value in the eyes of those who must judge your professional competence. In order to survive, it might be necessary for you to accept little jobs. From fatigue and solitude, you will sometimes lose your fighting spirit. You will see in the eyes of others, at worst ignorance and contempt, at best pity.

Very often, these problems are addressed lopsidedly, as if it were only the stranger who had need of us. As for me, I want you to know how much we need you. Human relations, in truth, can be built only on an exchange. In this Western world, which is gradually abandoning its human rights philosophy in favour of materialism, and which prefers the free circulation of goods and capital to that of foreign peoples, we need you. You can help us make a salutary leap.

It is through action that we lead people over to our side, and it is through the love of humanity that we shall rediscover, you and I, you and the people of France, our dignity. For bringing about the rebirth of this world, I thank you.❞

Bienvenue chez nous, tu y seras chez toi

Publié le 21 octobre 2016

❝ Je ne sais pas qui tu es, ni d’où tu viens. Je ne sais pas ce que tu fuis : la guerre ? La faim ? La torture ? Le souci des tiens confrontés à l’extrême pauvreté ? Je sais que forcément ce fut pour toi un déchirement absolu de quitter ta famille, ta maison, ton métier. Pour venir chez nous, tu as affronté la cupidité des passeurs, les mers, le froid, la rue.

Le 25 août 2015, il pleuvait terriblement sur Calais. Je t’ai aperçu dans la «jungle». Instantanément tu es devenu, au creux de mon ventre, non plus «la crise migratoire» mais une personne. J’ai eu très mal de ta souffrance si visible, si honteuse.

Certains français chez nous trouvent que ta place est là-bas sur les champs de bataille ou dans les bidonvilles. Plus triste encore, des français ont oublié que certains des nôtres, comme toi, ont dû quitter notre pays pour échapper aux trains de la mort avant d’être accueillis par des Justes, dans des pays qui leur ont ouvert les bras.

Sache que ces français-là ne reflètent pas l’âme de la France.

Ici sur notre Pays de Retz, terre de modération et d’humanité, des collectifs généreux sont nés pour t’accueillir, toi et les tiens. Dans nos communes, des élus se sont engagés depuis le premier jour et le représentant de l’Etat a pris sa juste part, avec le concours d’une association expérimentée, pour t’offrir à Saint Brévin les Pins, un lieu de repos et pour t’accompagner dans tes démarches et ta reconstruction personnelle.

Ces engagements divers sont cet autre visage de la France.

Pour répondre à la haine qui a pu se manifester, sans naïveté je veux te redire, à toi et aux tiens, que nous n’avons pas peur de vous. Vous êtes nos amis, nos frères, nos pères, des êtres humains, avec vos faiblesses et vos forces. Entendre que les migrants seraient forcément des criminels me fait horreur. Je voudrais au contraire vous aider à retrouver votre dignité bafouée sur les mers et dans les broussailles de Calais.

À toi, migrant inconnu, je souhaite la bienvenue. Je serai heureuse de te rencontrer, de t’entendre, de partager. La fraternité créée t’aidera, je l’espère, à surmonter les obstacles qui subsistent. Car bientôt tu recevras des papiers actant la régularité de ta présence parmi nous. A ce moment précis tu seras sans doute très heureux. Mais ton combat ne sera pas achevé : les tiens seront encore exposés à l’extrême pauvreté, à la mort peut-être. Tu voudras travailler dur pour les aider. Tu vivras alors douloureusement le manque de reconnaissance car tes diplômes n’auront aucune valeur aux yeux de ceux qui devront reconnaître tes compétences professionnelles. Il te faudra peut-être accepter des petits boulots pour survivre. Dans la fatigue et la solitude, tu perdras parfois ton esprit combatif. Tu liras alors dans les yeux, au pire l’ignorance et le mépris, au mieux la pitié.

Trop souvent ces questions sont abordées de manière unilatérale comme si seul l’étranger avait besoin de nous. Mais moi je veux que tu saches combien nous avons besoin de toi. La relation humaine, vraie, ne se construit que dans l’échange. Dans ce monde occidental, qui abandonne progressivement sa philosophie des droits de l’Homme au profit de biens plus matériels, et qui préfère la circulation des biens et des capitaux à celle des personnes étrangères, nous avons besoin de toi. Tu peux nous aider à un sursaut salutaire.

C’est par les actions que nous mènerons chacun de notre côté et c’est dans l’amour de l’être humain que nous retrouverons, toi et moi, toi et le peuple de France, notre dignité. Pour tout ce monde à renaître je te remercie.❞ §