La France va bientôt élire un nouveau président. Les Français devront choisir entre M. Macron et madame Le Pen. Et bien sûr, comme toujours, tous les candidats dits républicains appellent à voter contre le Front national au second tour, sans même se demander ce que leurs électeurs veulent.
La situation de la France rappelle un peu celle des États-Unis l’année dernière, lorsque tous les « amis » de la liberté, de la fraternité entre les peuples, les non-racistes, etc. ont appelé à voter contre Trump. Honnêtement, je voulais que Trump gagne tout comme je souhaite que Marine gagne. Pourquoi? Parce que pour moi, la seule différence qui existe entre Macron et Le Pen est celle qui existait entre Clinton et Trump : leur image.
Quel que soit celui qui deviendra président de la France, il fera ce que tous les présidents, surtout les présidents occidentaux, font. Ils feront ce qu’ils pensent être le mieux pour leur pays et particulièrement pour les puissants de leur pays, même si cela signifie lancer des bombes sur des innocents, exploiter pays et peuples, affamer certains et mettre en prison des innocents. Ils vont juste le faire chacun à sa manière, mettre plus ou moins de décorations autour et utiliser des registres de langue différents pour expliquer leurs actes. Il est temps que les actes, les idées et convictions de ces dirigeants se reflètent dans l’image qu’ils donnent, dans l’image que les peuples ont d’eux. Lorsque ces présidents ressemblent à des « anges de lumière », il est facile de se laisser avoir. Si pour une fois, ils pouvaient juste ressembler à ce qu’ils disent et font, alors au moins nous saurons, le monde entier saura à quoi nous faisons face : à la peste et au choléra.
Je sais, ce que je dis ressemble, un peu ou beaucoup, aux nombreuses théories de complot qui sont de temps en temps à la mode. Peut-être, peut-être pas. Je n’en sais rien. Ce que je sais par contre est que rien ne changera tant que nous vivrons dans l’illusion. Une fois que nous verrons les choses telles qu’elles sont, nous saurons à quel point nous avons tort de mettre nos espoirs de changement et de vie meilleure en des hommes ou femmes qui, tout comme nous, n’ont pas grand pouvoir devant leurs faiblesses et leurs désirs; qui, tout comme nous, sont prompts à se laisser tenter par le pouvoir et l’argent.
Si les politiques et leurs semblables avaient la capacité de changer le monde, de rendre les choses vraiment différentes et meilleures, il y a longtemps que le monde aurait été un parc d’attractions gratuit, ouvert 24 h sur 24. Il est peut-être temps de chercher notre bonheur, le salut de l’humanité dans autre chose que des élections, des programmes, des humains. Il est même peut-être temps de repenser, de redéfinir ce que nous cherchons vraiment. Après tout, les nations dites les plus avancées, qui jouissent d’une vraie démocratie, n’abritent pas vraiment les personnes les plus heureuses et les plus sereines de la terre. Sinon, pourquoi faudrait-il de nouveaux programmes tous les quatre, cinq ans et toujours plus d’antidépresseurs, de distractions et choses semblables pour les aider à faire face à la vie, à la réalité?
In all the continents and in almost all the countries I have lived in, there have been debates, discussions, and demonstrations against or for illegal immigrants. Some want them to be sent back to their countries; others want them to stay where they are as they are while others think that all of them should be given visas, work permits or whatever cards that would allow them to stay where they are.
They are talked about as if they were a homogenous entity, and not as if they were a group made of numerous individuals with different stories. We deal with them as we deal with people we don’t know what to do with. We put them in groups, then give those groups names. In that way, we don’t have to know the names of individuals. And if they don’t have a name, they don’t have a face. And if they don’t have a face, well they don’t exist. If they don’t exist we can implement whatever policy we want to settle their fate. Why care? They are non-persons.
Deciding to make all illegal immigrants leave a country is as foolish as asking to let them be or to give all of them visas. They are individuals. They have different stories. They have different reasons for being where they are. There might be some among them fleeing because they broke the Law and need to pay for it. There might be some who were looking for hope, for a country where they could breathe and dream. There might be some whose lives were in danger, who had to choose between death and illegality. There are some who have given birth to children where they are. There are some who just have nowhere to go. If they were to go back where they came from, they would have no place to stay, no friends, no family, no one to welcome them, and nothing to live with and for.
So what to do with them? Maybe we just need to see them as individuals and not as an annoying or needy group. Maybe we just need to listen to each story, then to take decisions accordingly. Surely, we need to be open-minded and compassionate. Surely, whether they have to stay or leave, we need to make sure they will receive all the help they need to begin a new journey. And even if they are criminals, we need to make sure their rights are respected. And always we need to remember that our societies are as strong as the weakest of their members, even if they are illegal immigrants.
Je suis folle de langues. Je les apprends, les oublie, les apprends de nouveau, mais ne les parle jamais. Non pas que les parler ne m’intéresse pas. Je n’ai juste pas, n’ai jamais eu l’occasion de parler hébreu, chinois ou russe. Sans oublier que j’ai vraiment du mal à prononcer certains sons, ce qui rend les choses compliquées.
Alors je prétends parler anglais et oublie comment m’exprimer en français. Suis-je devenue une de ces fausses bilingues qui ne parle couramment aucune des langues qu’elle prétend maîtriser? J’espère que non. Je dois toutefois avouer que parfois je perds mes mots en français, et souvent, je prononce tout très mal en anglais. Et maintenant, je fais tout pour parler le français canadien.
Et pour rendre tout encore plus compliqué, plus je prends de l’âge et plus je cesse de considérer le français comme ma langue maternelle. Parce que voyez-vous, mes parents ont une langue maternelle différente du français, celle que parlaient mes grands-parents et leurs grands-parents, et tous mes ancêtres. Jusqu’à récemment, j’étais tellement préoccupée par apprendre de nouvelles cultures et langues que je n’ai pas pris le temps de conserver les miennes. Pour la culture, ça ira. Je suis canadienne, le pays où le multiculturalisme prend tout son sens. Toutefois, ma langue maternelle me manque. Je regrette ses sons, ses expressions, ses rires et ses chants, et je n’ai personne pour me l’apprendre.
Alors je choisis le plus facile. Je vais m’appliquer à améliorer mon français canadien et mon allemand, vais apprendre l’espagnol et peut-être me remettre à l’italien, en espérant que je ne parlerai pas toutes ces langues sans en parler aucune.
In the front row of that specific English class, there are a woman from Hong-Kong who avoids speaking and who barely uses her eyes to look at another human being; four Chinese women seated side-by-side who never exchange a word; then a man from Afghanistan, another from Iran and two Iranian women. Those last four have no difficulty talking and laughing during the classes. Their corner of the world is chatty, joyful and attractive.
The second row shelters a quiet, beautiful and wise Sudanese doctor whose friend it would be great to be, almost invisible Asians (probably from China, Vietnam, and Korea) not worth talking about since they learn quietly and politely; and other people who, as well, do not speak often, smile sometimes and acquire knowledge silently.
Who can forget the Francophone learners? Their accent is unique and they speak French as soon as an opportunity arises. You cannot fail to notice them, even if you want to. They are black. Every single black person in that school devoted to adult learning is a French-speaker. Some can claim that the reality is more complex. They would ask: “what about this Eritrean man who does not speak French?” He is black. No, he seems to be black. He is nearly black; but he is not. Therefore he does not count. You must wonder what “nearly black” means. If you want an answer, just google Eritrean and you will discover that Eritreans do not look like Western African, the Francophone African, the black African. Their nose is less big, their lips thinner and their features delicate.
Let’s come back to that English class with all those people from all around the world or nearly. Their atypical and humorous accents as well as their uneven knowledge of English are unexpected distractions that could be called fortunate distractions. Indeed, with the windows behind them, the students, or whatever they are called (surely there is a more politically correct term to label them), have no chance to admire a singing bird or to give new names to startling flowers. Of course, there are pictures on the walls. However after one week, those pictures are as boring as a golf tournament. So the students cannot escape the new vocabulary, the thorny grammar and the mistakes of their “schoolmates” or their own mistakes. They have to listen and to learn which is not a shocking idea. After all they come every morning to that class for those precise reasons.
Therefore, every student somehow improves his or her English. However, if you are an incurable romantic woman with dreams too big to be fulfilled and, if you have a passion for storytelling, you would spend time observing your “school comrades” and spying out their secrets or dreaming up new lives for them. New lives they can’t complain about since they are not aware of.
However, there are lives that do not need to be imagined. You can see them in their owners’ eyes. You can, without mistake, know what, when and where they do what they do. For instance, you can definitely know that this little one is a Chinese secret agent and not a wide-eyed Chinese student who is trying hard to know more about the Western culture and to become bilingual. You will categorically know that some do not come there to learn English: they come to laugh, spend time or to be sure to receive some government subsidies. You will unquestionably know that some come there by despair because they have no choice. You will know. Yes, you will and you would be fond of that English class, even if all Spanish students seem to avoid it.
Shortly before he was assassinated in 1994, Mexican presidential candidate Luis Donaldo Colosio admitted he had a dilemma. The long dictatorial reign of Colosio’s Institutional Revolutionary Party, or PRI, which had ruled Mexico since 1929, was under threat from two increasingly potent opposition groups: the conservative National Action Party (PAN) and the leftist Democratic Revolution Party (PRD). While the PAN and PRD represented genuine political philosophies, the PRI stood for little more than amassing power — and holding onto it in the most corrupt manner possible. Colosio knew the PRI had to bring something more meaningful than fraud to the ballot box.
So Colosio took a cue from Bill Clinton, a Democrat who had recently won the U.S. presidency with a centrist approach. “That’s where the PRI is going to position itself,” Colosio told me in an interview then, “as the socially progressive but more economically responsible alternative.” Colosio…
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What do a president, a rebel and a champion have in common? Nothing much except if the first is the new president of Egypt, the second the former Irish Republican Army (IRA) commander and the third, the tennis player who has won the most Grand Slam tournaments.
So what do Mohamed Morsi, Martin McGuinnes and Roger Federer have in common? Not their age, not their faith, not their fame… One is 60 years old, the other 62 and the last, 31 years old. One is compared to a Queen of Pop when the others are almost ignored; almost. One is a Catholic, another is a Muslim and the other doesn’t talk much about his faith, after all he is only a tennis player, not an activist or an almost martyr. Whatever their differences, they are “formers” and made the headlines last week.
A former prisoner
Mohamed Morsi is the new president of Egypt. For the first time in its history, modern Egypt will be headed by a freely elected civilian. He succeeded Hosni Mubarak as president of the Arab Republic of Egypt. Member of the Muslim Brotherhood, Mohamed Morsi was jailed by Mubarak as well as held many times by his state security men.
He has promised an “Egyptian Renaissance with an Islamic foundation”, a moderate Islamic foundation. However, are the secular forces that fear an Islamization of Egypt and the Christian minority ready to trust the first president of the Freedom and Justice Party, the party the Muslim Brotherhood created after the 2011 Egyptian revolution? Is the international community ready to trust the former member of the Guidance Office of the Muslim Brotherhood?
The Muslim Brotherhood, the Egypt’s largest Islamist party, won 235 seats, about half the seats, in the Egyptian parliamentary election that the country’s highest court declared invalid. That is to say that Mohamed Morsi’s election is not a complete surprise; especially as his principal opponent was Ahmed Shafik, a former general who served as Mubarak’s last prime minister. 51,7 per cent of the voters have chosen the Brotherhood for a change and against the military.
However is it really a change as we know that the Muslim Brotherhood advocates a return to the Quran rules as foundation of Egypt? Are Egyptian citizens going to move from a situation of non-political choice to a situation of non-religion choice? Only time will tell. What time has already told is that the Muslim Brotherhood has been involved in violent acts: they used violence to fight for their beliefs and were violently fought back by Egyptian rulers. Time has already told us that the Kuwaiti branch of the Muslim Brotherhood opposes the right of women to vote. Time has told us that Sayyid Qutb, a member of the Egyptian Muslim Brotherhood is the one who developed the doctrine of Jihad. However, there is a chance that Mohammed Morsi will live up to his pledges and work with different groups that “express the largest national consensus”. Only time will tell.
A former rebel
Better known but not necessarily more appreciated, James Martin Pacelli McGuinnes is a hero to some, especially among Irish nationalists. The Sinn Féin, -the political wing of the Irish republican movement-, politician is the current deputy First Minister of Northern Ireland and a Member of Parliament (MP). Like all Sinn Féin MPs, he resigned from the House of Commons while continuing on as a member of the Northern Ireland Assembly.
As the Séin Féin candidate in the Irish presidential election in 2011 and a former member of the Provisional Irish Republican Army, an Irish republican paramilitary organization whose goal was to separate Northern Ireland from the United Kingdom, he represented a more romantic and more appealing figure than Mohammed Morsi as he fought against the British “imperialism”.
He is said to have participated in many bombings and killings in his fight against London. However, as Sin Féin’s chief negotiator, he led the talks leading to the Good Friday agreement, a 1998 agreement between the majority of Northern Ireland’s political party and between the Irish and British governments that was a major step in the Northern Ireland peace process as it ended The IRA’s 30-year armed campaign against British rule.
This week, he is going to meet Britain’s Queen Elizabeth for the first time. He will be the first senior figure in the ex-IRA that the Monarch will meet. This visit will be her first announced in advance visit in Northern Ireland since the 1960’s.
Does this meeting mean that Sinn Féin is ready to abjure his claim for a united Ireland? Or are they only playing the game for peace’s sake? Only time will tell. What time has already told us is that Martin McGuinness was ready to do whatever it takes to reach his goal. Time has told us that he would deny his past if he has to. Time has told us that a united Ireland is his goal and that he will not settle for less. Time has also told us that he was ready to compromise for Ireland’s sake. However, there is a chance: a chance that the long-required referendum will be held and McGuiness would be the first president of a United Ireland or a chance that Sinn Féin will renounce its fight and the United Kingdom will last forever. Only time will tell.
A former No.1
The last but not the least is one of the most-known and loved athlete nowadays. This Swiss professional tennis player is a gentleman who combines chivalry and talent. With a record of 16 Grand Slam Tournaments won, Roger Federer dethroned Pete Sampras even if he has only occupied the #1 ranking for 285 overall weeks, one week short of the record held by the same Pete Sampras.
There is not much to say about the current world No.3 tennis player. He is one of the best, if not the best tennis player of all-time and his recent defeats will not change it. Maybe it is just time for him to bring his tennis career to an end. 2013 would be an excellent year: 10 years after Sampras who was born 10 years before him.
He has nothing to prove. Time has nothing to say: he is already a champion. However, the tennis championship without him will never be the same, unless his natural and rightful successor appears by magic. Djokovic and Nadal are good but not as talented and as charming as him. He needs a natural successor as he was one to Sampras.
It is said that, even if he has not won a title since two and a half years, he is the one followed by the crowds at Wimbledon; young and old want a little of him: they barely notice the other players. He is the only one people want to see. He is the best but he dreams to wear the Wimbledon crown for a seventh time, tying Pete Sampras. The days will tell us. In more than one month, maybe less, everyone will know.
However, seventh crown or not, he will be the King of hearts. He is the King of hearts. No violence in his history, no political claim, only a gift for tennis and a heart to enable children to shape their future through a foundation that has already helped more than 47 000 children in Africa.
He is as different from McGuinness as McGuinness’fight is different from Mosri’s aim. Nevertheless, they have a lot in common: they are three men with three extraordinary lives and three extraordinary destinies; three men journalists talk about; three men who hold people’s hearts by their strengths or their weaknesses; three men who were, are and are waiting to become. Three “formers” and three “to be”. Time will tell us.
I have been learning English for years. I recall thinking that English is easier that French. I consider French as my first language, an imposed one but the only I dream in. Still I agree it is difficult. French is difficult, positively difficult. Beautiful but complicated to master and to use. Let’s say it differently: French grammar is difficult and mastering English pronunciation is a labor worthy of Hercules.
English grammar is easier, far easier. You only have to get acquainted with a few difficulties and that’s it. On the other hand, English pronunciation is hell on earth: five vowels and infinite ways of pronouncing them. I didn’t count. Then, you need to learn to pronounce the consonants, the single ones and the double one. You need to know how to say “r”, “sw”, “th”, “wr”, “gh” and so on, without forgetting there is a great chance that their pronunciation is different for each word you encounter. Then you have to add to them the vowels which have always unexpected sounds. And I am expected to speak English!
How to tell my friends that I have swum or that I swam when by an unwritten rule swum is almost pronounced like swam and swam almost like swum. Almost! That “almost” makes all the difference. I decided to show the white flag, to look for a way to have conversations without using confusing vowels and words with an “r”. Try if you can. Impossible! I couldn’t give up the struggle if I wanted to have a chance to discuss, talk and bond with human beings.
If it was only the “r”…
It is not the end of the world if people believe that my favorite distraction is working instead of walking, isn’t it? But there are also “ble” or “ple”at the end of words and all the rest. Moreover I need to find the good pronunciation while using the right rhythm, the right word, the right intonation and the right grammar. Even for a woman, it is a little too much.
And every time I think I have improved my pronunciation, I discover that people keep not understanding me, sometimes for my benefit, sometimes for my shame. After many mistakes, I can now correctly say the name of the street where I live and most of the times people don’t understand any longer than I am angry when I am only hungry. At least I hope: because besides swimming, I really enjoy eating.