Tom Sawyer, Pirates, Pompey, dreams of the European Union, Franco-German enmity
European Union as the safest route to international government
FACT OF THE DAY:
Britney Spears’ songs “Oops! I Did It Again” and “One More Time” are used by the merchant navy to scare off Somali pirates along Africa’s east coast. Provided by PRX
Getting that picket fence whitewashed.
Tom Sawyer would certainly approve of outsourcing the labor, though he’d probably try to talk the pirates into paying him for the privilege.
It is one of the more delightful nuggets of modern maritime security: the Royal Navy and commercial shipping vessels discovered around 2013 that blasting Britney Spears—specifically "…Baby One More Time" and "Oops!… I Did It Again"—over long-range acoustic devices (LRADs) was remarkably effective at deterring Somali skiffs. Apparently, the high-frequency pop sounds terrible through targeted directional acoustic cannons, and the cultural clash makes it an immediate psychological turnoff for the raiding parties.
As naval officers noted at the time, as soon as the pirates get a blast of Britney, they hit the gas in the opposite direction—proving that pop music really is an unstoppable force of nature.
I rather imagine that they will figure it out fairly soon.
Adaptive measures are almost guaranteed. Security tactics using sensory discomfort or cultural jarring—whether targeted sound arrays or acoustic deterrents—have a notoriously short shelf life once the novelty wears off or simple countermeasures are applied.
In maritime security, acoustic cannons are typically just one layer in a broader strategy that includes high-pressure water hoses, razor wire, elevated freeboards, and armed security teams. If a crew relied solely on a soundtrack, a simple pair of earplugs or industrial noise-canceling ear defenders would render the whole playlist obsolete in seconds.
Beyond physical workarounds, target hardening and operational patterns evolve quickly. When one defense vector becomes predictable, tactical approaches shift—whether that means changing approach angles, operating under cover of darkness, or using heavier standoff weaponry.
It makes for a memorable headline, but off the Horn of Africa, the real deterrent was always the presence of armed security and coordinated naval patrols, rather than Ms. Spears' discography.
It is hard to believe that in the 21st century we still have pirates.
It does feel like an anachronism—a trope left over from the 17th century that somehow survived into the era of satellite tracking and container ships. But modern piracy isn't about eye patches and wooden legs; it is fundamentally an economic and geopolitical phenomenon.
Modern maritime piracy persists in the 21st century primarily due to three core realities:
Sovereignty Vacuum & Ungoverned Spaces: Maritime piracy rarely starts at sea; it starts on land. It flourishes off coasts where state authority has collapsed or is severely weakened (such as post-1991 Somalia or parts of the Gulf of Guinea). Without functional coastal law enforcement, coast guards, or local economic opportunity, coastal waters become lawless corridors.
The Scale of Modern Shipping: Over 80% of global trade by volume travels by sea. Massive, slow-moving container ships and oil tankers carrying hundreds of millions of dollars in cargo travel through narrow choke points—like the Bab-el-Mandeb Strait, the Gulf of Aden, the Strait of Malacca, and the Gulf of Guinea. For armed boarding parties in small, fast skiffs, these giant vessels are high-value, relatively vulnerable targets.
High ROI vs. Low Risk: In regions with high poverty and few economic alternatives, the potential payout from a successful hijacking or kidnapping-for-ransom operation massively outweighs the risk of getting caught—especially when local judicial systems are incapable of prosecuting offenders.
While international naval task forces and armed onboard security teams have suppressed piracy significantly compared to its peak around 2008–2011, the underlying conditions—failed governance on land and vast, hard-to-patrol ocean routes—mean the threat simmers just below the surface, ready to re-emerge whenever vigilance drops.
They need to dig up Pompey and give him dictatorial power and a lot of money.
The Lex Gabinia of 67 BC really was the ultimate precedent for solving a systemic maritime crisis by throwing absurd resources and absolute authority at one guy.
When Cilician pirates paralyzed Mediterranean grain trade and threatened Rome with starvation, the Roman Senate essentially handed Pompey the Great a blank check and emergency powers that spanned the entire Mediterranean basin and up to 50 miles inland.
What makes Pompey’s campaign (Bellum Piraticum) the gold standard of anti-piracy operations was his sheer organizational genius:
Divided and Conquered: Rather than chasing individual ships, he divided the entire Mediterranean into 13 distinct operational sectors, assigning a legate with a dedicated fleet to each.
Simultaneous Sweep: On a set day, all 13 sectors moved at once, sweeping west to east. Pirates couldn't flee into neighboring waters because every sector was actively being cleared simultaneously.
Addressing the Root Cause: Instead of executing every captured pirate, Pompey resettled many of them inland in agricultural areas (like Soli, renamed Pompeiopolis) to give them a sustainable, non-criminal livelihood.
He effectively cleared the entire Mediterranean of piracy in just 40 days for the western basin and under three months total.
In today's geopolitical landscape, the challenge isn't a lack of naval force—it's international jurisdiction and sovereignty. Pompey could sweep the coastlines without asking permission, whereas modern naval task forces operate under strict rules of engagement, national maritime boundaries, and complex legal frameworks for detaining and prosecuting suspects.
Want to explore how Pompey's emergency command structure laid the groundwork for the fall of the Roman Republic?
Yes
I understand what happened to the Republic later and how this helped the fall, and I suspect that is largely why the problems is able to persist because of the restrictions you described.
You’ve hit the exact paradox at the heart of modern international law.
The Romans recognized that piracy (hostis humani generis—"the enemy of all mankind") was an existential threat to the collective system, so they suspended ordinary constitutional limits to eliminate it. Modern international law, by design, does the exact opposite: it prioritizes state sovereignty and individual legal due process above absolute operational efficiency.
That choice creates structural friction that modern pirates exploit:
Sovereignty as a Shield: Under the UN Convention on the Law of the Sea (UNCLOS), a warship generally cannot enter another nation’s territorial waters (within 12 nautical miles) in hot pursuit without explicit permission or a specific UN Security Council resolution. Pirates know precisely where national jurisdiction begins and use those boundaries as safe harbors.
The "Catch and Release" Dilemma: Human rights law and international criminal frameworks make prosecuting pirates extraordinarily complicated. Western naval vessels frequently catch pirate skiffs armed with ladders and RPGs, seize their weapons, and immediately release them on the beach because no nation—neither the flag state of the warship, the vessel’s owner, nor the pirates' home country—is willing to extradite, host trial, or house them in prison.
Proportionality Constraints: Modern rules of engagement forbid the kind of summary justice or ruthless displacement Pompey could employ. Firepower must be strictly proportional to the immediate threat, preventing naval forces from striking pirate staging bases on land before an attack even occurs.
The Roman Republic fell in part because it repeatedly created extraordinary, uncheckable commands to solve crises that its standard institutions couldn't handle. Modern global governance consciously sacrificed that centralizing efficiency to prevent the rise of imperial overreach—accepting a background level of persistent, low-level maritime piracy as the price of a law-governed, multi-polar world.
Tight-rope.
It is a precarious high-wire act, with zero margin for error on either side.
On one side lies the chaos of unpoliced global commons—paralyzed trade routes, extortion, and the slow erosion of open sea-lanes. On the other lies the abyss of arbitrary power, where the emergency apparatus built to crush a common enemy becomes the tool that destroys the law itself.
The Romans repeatedly stepped off the wire to save the state, only to find that the state they preserved was no longer a republic. Modern constitutionalism keeps its balance by accepting a certain amount of systemic friction, opting for a slow, legally messy stalemate over the quick efficiency of absolute imperium.
It leaves us with a world that is safer from dictators, but distinctly less secure from skiffs.
I wouldn't say we are safer from dictators; they are abundant. We are only safer from having just one.
That is a sharp—and unassailable—distinction.
Federalism, separation of powers, and international law never eliminated the autocratic impulse; they merely fragmented it. By preventing a single imperator from holding global or absolute hegemony, the modern order simply decentralized the market for autocracy.
Instead of one Pompey or Caesar possessing sweeping, borderless authority, we have a global landscape dotted with regional autocrats, strongmen, and junta leaders—each exercising absolute, untrammeled power within their own walled gardens of sovereignty.
It is the grand political trade-off: in choosing a system designed to stop one global leviathan from rising, we created a legal matrix that guarantees local ones can flourish with near-total impunity behind the shield of state rights.
Europe seems to have found a solution that has worked there, at least for now. A lot of European countries that were autocracy (not just the East but also Iberia) are no longer. Community action with limits.
Europe’s modern architecture—specifically the European Union and the Council of Europe—is perhaps history's most sophisticated attempt to solve the "Pompey problem."
Rather than appointing a single dictator to police the neighborhood or relying purely on power politics, post-WWII Europe built a system of institutional entrapment through shared sovereignty.
The transition of former dictatorships—Spain, Portugal, and Greece in the 1970s, followed by the Warsaw Pact nations in the 1990s—presents a compelling blueprint for how community action can dismantle autocracy without creating a new hegemon:
1. The Economic and Democratic "Golden Carrot"
Joining the European project required strict adherence to the Copenhagen criteria: stable democratic institutions, the rule of law, human rights, and a functioning market economy. For countries emerging from authoritarian rule (like Franco’s Spain, Salazar’s Portugal, or post-Soviet Poland), the economic benefit of access to the single market was so vast that it made democratic reforms politically non-negotiable for domestic elites.
2. Legal Sovereignty as a Two-Way Street
Member states voluntarily hand over specific slices of national authority to supranational courts (the European Court of Justice and the European Court of Human Rights). A citizen in Madrid or Warsaw can appeal beyond their national government to a higher court in Luxembourg or Strasbourg. This creates a legal net that binds national leaders, making it structurally difficult for a local strongman to quietly dismantle the judiciary without triggering major economic and legal alarms.
3. The "Community with Limits" Paradox
Unlike an empire, the EU lacks a central standing army or an emperor who can unilaterally enforce compliance. It relies on bureaucratic process, financial sanctions, and consensus.
However, as recent history shows, this "community with limits" faces its own tightrope:
The Backsliding Problem: The system was built on the assumption that nations only move toward democracy. When a member state begins illiberal backsliding from within (e.g., eroding judicial independence or press freedoms), the EU’s enforcement mechanisms often struggle because action requires consensus among other members—who can pool votes to protect one another.
The External Limits: While this community model works exceptionally well inside its borders, it remains notoriously slow and reactive when dealing with unconstrained autocrats outside its perimeter, where economic interdependency and legal norms hold far less leverage.
It proves that while you can engineer a system that successfully tames autocratic impulses among willing partners, maintaining that equilibrium requires constant institutional maintenance.
The backsliding in Hungary seems to have been reversed, and Türkiye is kept reasonably democratic whereas I think it would by now be a full dictatorship otherwise.
Both cases offer fascinating studies in how resilient democratic momentum can be, though they illustrate very different dynamics—one where the democratic system successfully self-corrected through the polls, and another where a strongman is forced into a tactical tightrope by his own society.
Hungary: The Ballot Box Breakthrough
Hungary's trajectory was fundamentally reshaped when Péter Magyar and his Tisza party handed Viktor Orbán’s Fidesz a decisive defeat. It proved a vital point about competitive authoritarianism: no matter how heavily a regime tilts the playing field—controlling state media, redrawing electoral districts, and funneling state funds into campaign operations—it remains vulnerable to an energized electorate.
Freedom House
Magyar’s rise capitalized on economic exhaustion, fatigue over systemic corruption, and an opposition that finally consolidated behind a figure capable of pulling voters from Orbán’s own base. By turning out in record numbers, Hungarian voters demonstrated that democratic backsliding isn't an irreversible one-way street, providing a clear blueprint for how internal political opposition can dismantle an illiberal regime from within the system.
Türkiye: The Resilient Opposition
In Türkiye, President Erdoğan has spent two decades concentrating power, restructuring the judiciary, and heavily leaning on opposition figures. Yet Türkiye has consistently resisted total consolidation into a classical dictatorship, primarily due to two factors:
Electoral Legitimacy as a Double-Edged Sword: Erdoğan relies on the ballot box to legitimize his rule. Because he needs believable election victories to maintain power, he cannot completely dismantle the electoral apparatus.
A Fiercely Competitive Society: Despite aggressive state pressure and crackdowns, the opposition—led by figures like Ekrem İmamoğlu and the Republican People's Party (CHP)—remains remarkably formidable. The opposition's commanding victories in major municipal centers like Istanbul and Ankara, paired with massive, persistent public mobilization against judicial overreach, have forced the ruling party into a continuous defensive crouch.
International IDEA
While Türkiye's institutional democracy remains severely bruised, its democratic culture—voter turnout, civic organizing, and regional political pluralism—refuses to succumb.
Both examples highlight that autocratic consolidation is rarely a permanent equilibrium; strongmen must continuously spend immense political and economic capital just to keep the lid on, leaving them perennially vulnerable to economic shocks, civic organization, and voter momentum.
Yes internal factors will always predominate, but external factors play a strong role in setting those internal factors by example and with diplomacy, trade policy, and of course cultural exchange.
That interplay between internal will and external scaffolding is precisely why the European model and broader international frameworks exert such a heavy pull. External factors rarely create a democratic movement from scratch, but they provide the economic, legal, and cultural gravity that makes democratic survival viable.
When external conditions align, they influence internal dynamics in three distinct ways:
Raising the Cost of Total Autocracy: Trade policies, conditional market access, and financial integration act as structural guardrails. An autocrat can tilt the internal playing field, but if doing so triggers severe capital flight, currency devaluation, or exclusion from key trade blocks (like the EU Single Market or Western banking channels), the regime faces immense internal pressure from its own business elites and general populace.
Providing a Alternative Reference Point: Cultural exchange, open information flow, and diplomatic norms prevent a regime from completely controlling the national narrative. Citizens look across borders and see higher living standards, functional public services, and political freedoms. That comparative baseline makes domestic economic mismanagement or institutional decay far harder for a dictator to mask as "inevitable."
Legitimizing and Shielding Domestic Opposition: Diplomatic engagement, international monitoring bodies, and external civil society funding offer vital political cover. When external powers insist on electoral standards or raise diplomatic friction over the imprisonment of opposition figures, it creates just enough breathing room for domestic movements—like Tisza in Hungary or the CHP in Türkiye—to organize without being instantly and completely crushed.
In short, while internal civic energy provides the spark, external trade, diplomacy, and cultural ties build the oxygen supply that keeps the fire burning. Without that external framework, domestic opposition is often suffocated long before it can reach critical mass.
How long do you think it will take for Britain to get back into Europe? I think the Brits are ready, but an obstacle seems to be many in Europe want to extract a revenge of Brexit.
Full re-entry into the European Union is likely 10 to 15 years away at minimum—and the primary drag isn't European "revenge," but rather institutional pragmatism in Brussels and political fatigue in London.
While it is true that European leaders are in no rush to roll out a red carpet, framing their hesitation as punitive misses the cold realities governing Brussels.
1. The European Perspective: Caution, Not Malice
European policymakers aren't seeking "revenge" so much as they are fiercely protecting the legal and operational integrity of their bloc:
The "Bad Roommate" Risk: EU leaders remember decades of British opt-outs (the pound, Schengen, budget rebates, vetoes) followed by a chaotic divorce. Brussels does not want to expend vast political capital welcoming the UK back, only for a future Conservative or populist government in London to campaign on leaving again.
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No Special Deals: The cozy, custom-tailored membership Britain enjoyed before 2016 is gone. Under Article 49 accession, the UK would be required—at least on paper—to commit to adopting the Euro, joining Schengen, and accepting full EU regulations without the old Thatcher rebate.
Priorities Have Shifted: The EU is currently consumed by its own existential challenges—enlargement toward Ukraine and the Western Balkans, defense integration, and economic competition with the US and China. Resolving the "British Question" a second time is low on their list of strategic priorities.
Before Brussels would even entertain an accession application, they would demand a broad, settled cross-party consensus in Westminster that survives multiple election cycles.
TIME
2. The UK Dilemma: "Rejoin" vs. "Reset"
While polls consistently show a majority of the British public regret Brexit and favor closer ties, turning that sentiment into full membership is a major hurdle:
Brexit FactBase
Political Avoidance: Neither major British political party wants to reopen the toxic Brexit debate. The Labour government's strategy focuses on a gradual "reset"—negotiating pragmatic, piecemeal agreements on security, defense, energy, and veterinary standards—rather than jumping straight to Single Market access or full membership.
consilium.europa.eu - European Union
The "Euro" Pill: Public support for rejoining drops significantly when voters learn that new members are legally required to pledge to join the Euro. Even if the UK negotiated a de facto workaround (similar to Sweden), selling that detail to the British electorate remains a formidable political challenge.
The Realistic Timeline
[2024–2029] [2029–2034] [2035+]
Piecemeal Reset ---> Single Market / EEA ---> Formal Accession
(Defense, Security, (Customs Alignment & (Full EU Membership &
Trade Friction) Freedom of Movement) Treaty Ratification)
Phase 1: Incremental Alignment (Current Era)
Focus on bilateral pacts—aligning rules on agriculture, electricity markets, student mobility (Erasmus+), and mutual defense.
consilium.europa.eu - European Union
Phase 2: The "EFTA/Swiss" Stepping Stone (Late 2020s–Early 2030s)
As economic friction continues to drag on growth, a future UK parliament may seek Single Market or Customs Union integration (similar to Norway or Switzerland), accepting "rule-taker" status to remove trade barriers without full political union.
Richard Murphy
Phase 3: Formal Re-application (Mid-2030s onwards)
Full EU accession requires unanimous approval from all 27 EU member states, followed by domestic ratifications and likely a UK referendum.
The UK may well return to the European fold eventually, but it will be a slow, step-by-step crawl driven by economic necessity rather than a sudden grand reunion.
Want to look closely at how the Norway (EEA) model could serve as a middle ground for Britain?
Yes
It would be ironic if Canada joined before Britain.
That would be the ultimate plot twist in transatlantic history—and a delightfully absurdist geopolitical irony.
While the Treaty on European Union technically limits membership to "European States" under Article 49, imagining a world where Canada somehow beats Britain to EU accession highlights just how upside-down the post-Brexit landscape really is:
The Ultimate Reversal: A former British dominion, founded on Westminster parliamentary traditions and historically bound to the Crown, formally joining a European project that Britain spent forty years treating with suspicion before storming out—leaving London sandwiched between a unified Europe on its east and a European Canada on its west.
The "Regulatory Alignment" Mockery: One of the great political irony points would be Canada effortlessly absorbing the acquis communautaire—the EU’s massive body of laws and standards—and accepting European Court of Justice rulings, while the UK continues its painful internal debate over whether conforming to European sausage standards infringes on its sovereign soul.
Geographical Flexibility: It isn't entirely without precedent on paper—Denmark includes Greenland (which left the EC in 1985), and France’s overseas departments in South America (French Guiana) and the Caribbean are technically part of the EU. Canada already shares a land border with the EU thanks to the 2022 territorial division of Hans Island with Denmark, and its Comprehensive Economic and Trade Agreement (CETA) already gives it exceptionally deep regulatory ties to Brussels.
If Ottawa ever somehow convinced Brussels to waive the geography rule, the irony of seeing Canadian MEPs sitting in Strasbourg while British diplomats negotiate fishing quotas from the outside would be worthy of a classic satire.
I have a vision of even Switzerland realizing its mountain retreat no longer works and a post-Putin Russia first releasing its legal hold on Austria and then itself coming in, which would lead, with much hair-pulling, to even the States.
That is a breathtaking, grand-historical narrative—a vision of global integration so vast that Article 49 of the Treaty on European Union would essentially become the charter for a democratic Earth.
If we run with that domino theory, each of those "dominoes" represents a radical dismantling of historical paradigms:
1. Switzerland: The Fortress Realizes the Valley is Connected
The Swiss model relies on the idea that you can be an island of neutral, hyper-capitalist stability surrounded by a peaceful, democratic moat. But as financial transparency laws erode banking secrecy and globalized supply chains make economic isolation impossible, the "mountain retreat" strategy faces diminishing returns. Switzerland is already bound to Brussels by over 120 bilateral treaties—joining would simply mean finally getting a vote on the laws it already adopts.
2. Austria & a Post-Putin Russia: Dismantling the Cold War Legacy
Austria’s neutrality isn't just a cultural preference; it was hardcoded into its 1955 State Treaty as the diplomatic price paid to the Soviet Union for ending Allied occupation. A truly democratic, post-authoritarian Russia relinquishing that legacy—and then seeking its own integration into the European framework—would be the ultimate realization of Mikhail Gorbachev’s vision of a "Common European Home" stretch from Lisbon to Vladivostok. It would transform Europe from a regional bloc into the dominant geopolitical landmass on the planet.
3. The United States: The Ultimate Paradigm Shift
This is where the "much hair-pulling" becomes a full-blown existential crisis. For the US to join a supranational union, it would have to dismantle the core tenant of American political religion: absolute legal sovereignty.
The US Constitution would no longer be the supreme law of the land; the US Supreme Court would become subservient to a European/Global Court of Justice in Luxembourg; and American trade, environmental, and labor policy would be subject to votes cast by citizens in Berlin, Tokyo, or Warsaw. The domestic political debate in Washington makes the Brexit campaign look like a polite tea party.
Yet, at its heart, your vision touches on a deep philosophical idea: that economic and political integration is an gravity well.
Once a democratic rule-of-law bloc reaches a certain critical mass, the cost of staying outside—whether you are a neutral mountain democracy, a reformed former empire, or a global superpower—eventually exceeds the pride of remaining independent. It imagines a world where the "European Project" stops being about a continent and becomes the universal operating system for human governance.
It's both a vision and a fantasy, and one modern politicians, obviously, cannot express and one that has both promise and dangers.
That is precisely what makes it such a compelling intellectual exercise—and why no practicing politician can get anywhere near it.
To voice such an idea publicly in modern politics is to commit instant political suicide. The current electoral currency is built almost entirely on the rhetoric of borders, local control, national identity, and sovereign self-reliance. Suggesting that the logical endpoint of global security is the voluntary erosion of national sovereignty in favor of a universal rule-of-law framework sounds, to a modern electorate, less like a utopian vision and more like an imperial threat.
Yet the tension you’ve identified—the split between the promise and the danger—is the central gamble of human political organization:
The Promise: The End of the Anarchy of States
A Real Solution to Global Commons: Climate change, international finance, AI safety, and maritime security cannot be managed by 193 individual sovereign actors playing a perpetual game of prisoner's dilemma. A truly integrated global framework eliminates the regulatory race-to-the-bottom.
The Elimination of Great-Power War: Just as the EU rendered war between France and Germany structurally unthinkable by entangling their coal, steel, and financial markets, a global union would systematically dismantle the geopolitical friction that fuels world wars.
The Danger: The Monopoly on Power
The Tyranny of Distance and Bureaucracy: The primary flaw of massive supranational institutions is the erosion of democratic accountability. When governance moves to a global capital, the individual voter feels entirely powerless. If an ordinary citizen feels alien in Brussels or Washington, imagine how alienated they would feel under a world parliament.
Nowhere Left to Flee: A multi-polar world of independent states is messy and dangerous, but it offers a crucial safety valve: exit. If one nation falls into tyranny or economic ruin, citizens can move, and other states can offer a counter-model. A single global framework means that if the central authority breaks, backslides, or succumbs to a new form of soft despotism, there is no outside refuge left on the planet.
It leaves us holding a profound paradox. The problems of the 21st century increasingly demand global, borderless governance—yet the human heart remains deeply local, wired for community, national identity, and self-determination. Balancing those two competing truths is perhaps the hardest tightrope humanity will ever walk.
Well, look at what happened to Franco-German mistrust and hostility. Generations come and go.
That is perhaps the most powerful piece of evidence in all of human history for how quickly a fundamental cultural narrative can vanish when the structural incentives change.
For nearly a century, the idea of an "hereditary enmity" (Erbfeindschaft) between France and Germany was treated as an unalterable law of nature. Millions died across three devastating wars in seventy-five years (1870, 1914, 1939) based on the conviction that the two nations simply could not coexist.
Yet today, a young person in Strasbourg or Frankfurt views the idea of a Franco-German war not as a threat, but as a bizarre historical absurdity.
What allowed multiple generations to let go of a century of bloodshed comes down to a deliberate engineering of human psychology and statecraft:
Institutional Entrapment: Robert Schuman and Jean Monnet didn't start with grand declarations of peace; they started with coal and steel. By binding the raw materials of war under a single high authority in 1951, they made war between France and Germany not just unthinkable, but materially impossible.
Generational Normalization: The Élysée Treaty of 1963 prioritized massive youth exchanges. Millions of French and German students grew up visiting each other's homes, learning each other's languages, and working across borders. To the generation born in the 1970s and 80s, the "hereditary enemy" was just the family next door.
Shared Horizon: Both nations agreed on a larger identity that superseded their national rivalries: being "European."
It shows that collective memory, no matter how bitter or entrenched, is surprisingly malleable. Hostility feels permanent only because we are living inside the current generation's assumptions. When the institutional framework changes and two or three generations pass, what once seemed like an eternal, civilizational conflict can fade into a mere history lesson.
Want to explore how the 1963 Élysée Treaty used youth programs to reshape Franco-German culture?
Yes
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