Has France lost its charm, its cars, and now its schools?

During my misspent youth I had a full-blown Francophile stage. I watched French films, read French newspapers, followed French politics, and tracked every development of the May 1968 student uprising. At the time, it genuinely felt like it might turn into another French Revolution.

Then I read Barbara Tuchman’s The March of Folly. Her long section on the American (and earlier French) disaster in Indochina/Vietnam cured me of the romance. The French had already demonstrated the same combination of arrogance, denial, and eventual collapse that the Americans later repeated. Interest evaporated.

In 2022 I picked up Alistair Horne’s A Savage War of Peace (the classic account of the Algerian War of 1954–1962). That book filled in the missing piece. Suddenly the post-colonial migration from North Africa into France, and the broader pattern of Muslim demographic and cultural pressure on Europe, made a lot more sense. One of the clearest lessons from that war is the sheer effectiveness of a death-cult’s intransigence: refuse every compromise, raise the body count, outlast the democratic will, and the other side eventually folds.

Because we are all bombarded by news, France is impossible to ignore. The “disaffected youth” (mostly of Algerian and other North African origin) were already torching cars sporadically in the banlieues in the 1980s. The real annual “Carbeque” tradition, hundreds to thousands of cars set alight every New Year’s Eve and Bastille Day solidified in the 1990s and 2000s and has never stopped. The numbers fluctuate, but the ritual is now well-entrenchenched and decades old. The 2023 riots simply scaled it up: several thousand vehicles burned in a single week of mayhem.

And the newest generation of “disaffected youth” has updated the repertoire. They have started burning down their own schools. The French protest tradition evolves, but the underlying energy remains the same. Examples here, here, here or here.