- Sep 13, 2002
- 99,143
- 207,955
- 113
Frankly, I think this is an overly optimistic view from Michael Ian Black, but it is very well-written and funny anyway:
Updated Feb. 5 2025
Just down the road from the petite Airbnb in which I’m currently staying on the outskirts of Paris is the home of Alexander Dumas, who wrote The Count of Monte Cristo. That novel takes place during Napoleon’s escape from exile and his return to power, a comeback which lasted a scant 115 days before a Prussian/British coalition defeated him for good at Waterloo.
In 2025, our own little tyrant has re-emerged from his own exile. The early returns have not been promising.
I am not going to honor Donald Trump by drawing a direct line between him and France’s “Little Corporal.” Napoleon, after all, was brave. A war hero. And a brilliant tactician.
Trump stared directly at a solar eclipse.
There are, however, comparisons to be made. Like Napoleon, Trump found himself marooned after his first term in office—though for Trump, it was in the swamps of South Florida rather than on an island off the coast of Italy. Napoleon ruled Elba the same way Trump rules Mar-a-Lago, though Napoleon granted himself the title of Emperor while Trump’s modesty has only allowed to declare himself our second greatest president, telling a crowd in 2017, “With the exception of the late, great Abraham Lincoln, I can be more presidential than any president that’s ever held this office.”
One more quick comparison between the two men: A funny quote from a 1954 TIME magazine article. Napoleon, the article says, had a mind which “never doubted that it was wise enough to teach law to lawyers, science to scientists, and religion to Popes.”
My own exile of the last few weeks was of the self-imposed variety, a vacation planned well in advance of the presidential election. When my wife and I left, we were thrilled to be fleeing the nation during Inauguration Week. Now, days from our return, I’m feeling guilty about having been absent during these first fretful weeks of the new Trump administration. The nation is in tumult and I am consuming patisserie.
On the other hand, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t thinking about staying. France is lovely. The cheese is excellent. The healthcare system doesn’t try to bankrupt its customers. And on top of everything else, everybody gets free berets! (Not true.)
More seriously, as our daily constitutional crisis unspools, I think millions of American liberals like me are weighing their options during their own time of political exile. What is the best course of action? Does one take to the streets? Move to a blue state? Leave the country?
My family emigrated from Ukraine at the turn of the last century when the czar’s May Laws made life for Russian Jews impossible. A few decades later, Hitler did the same for the rest of Europe.
Growing up in the 80’s, that history always felt close at hand. I’ve talked to other Jews who grew up in that time, and we all experienced the same feeling that the rug could be pulled out from under us. It wasn’t that the U.S. was unwelcoming; it was that very recent history had taught us that every person’s open heart could shutter given the right circumstances. Consequently, I’ve always kept a mental go-bag at the ready. Now, for the first time in my life, I’m contemplating using it.
How could I not when things appear to be spiraling out of control?
In D.C., Elon Musk and his band of college-aged flunkies are downloading Americans’ personal data onto their laptops while Trump rattles his flaccid saber at Canada, Mexico, Denmark, Panama, China and the European Union.
Does such hubris call to mind any other very stable geniuses?
Trump’s own czar of the border, Tom Homan, is gleefully predicting domestic unrest, telling Fox News this week that, “You’re gonna see violence on the Southern border. It’s unfortunate, but we know it’s coming.”
Why does he think so? And what happens when it does? Homan may be anticipating violence because violence is what they seek. It’s the authoritarian playbook, after all.
But what will be clear to people five years from now is, at best, hazy in the present. Everybody living under an authoritarian understands that things are likely to get worse before they improve; the only question is how much worse?
When Napoleon appeared before the French Parliament in November 1799 after staging the first part of his coup d’etat, he attempted to convince the assembled deputies to pass a new constitution formalizing his rule. Over heated objections, Napoleon roared, “Remember that I walk with the God of War and the God of Fortune!”
Not quite as pithy as “I alone can fix it,” but pretty good.
And now that the fix is, indeed, in, what are we going to do? I return to the U.S. in a few days but part of me wishes I were not. Part of me wishes that I could tear up my return ticket, smoke Gauloises by the carton and wear my jaunty free beret (again, there are no free berets).
But I cannot. The fight is at home and so home is where I will go. May the second reign of Burger King be as short as that of the Little Corporal—but if it is not, I will be there to battle against it every day until it ends. Vive la révolution!
And eat some pastry.
Trump Is Already Headed For His Napoleon Moment, and Not in a Good Way
PARDON MY FRENCHNapoleon Bonaparte? More like Napoleon Bona-spurs.
Michael Ian BlackUpdated Feb. 5 2025
Just down the road from the petite Airbnb in which I’m currently staying on the outskirts of Paris is the home of Alexander Dumas, who wrote The Count of Monte Cristo. That novel takes place during Napoleon’s escape from exile and his return to power, a comeback which lasted a scant 115 days before a Prussian/British coalition defeated him for good at Waterloo.
In 2025, our own little tyrant has re-emerged from his own exile. The early returns have not been promising.
I am not going to honor Donald Trump by drawing a direct line between him and France’s “Little Corporal.” Napoleon, after all, was brave. A war hero. And a brilliant tactician.
Trump stared directly at a solar eclipse.
There are, however, comparisons to be made. Like Napoleon, Trump found himself marooned after his first term in office—though for Trump, it was in the swamps of South Florida rather than on an island off the coast of Italy. Napoleon ruled Elba the same way Trump rules Mar-a-Lago, though Napoleon granted himself the title of Emperor while Trump’s modesty has only allowed to declare himself our second greatest president, telling a crowd in 2017, “With the exception of the late, great Abraham Lincoln, I can be more presidential than any president that’s ever held this office.”
One more quick comparison between the two men: A funny quote from a 1954 TIME magazine article. Napoleon, the article says, had a mind which “never doubted that it was wise enough to teach law to lawyers, science to scientists, and religion to Popes.”
My own exile of the last few weeks was of the self-imposed variety, a vacation planned well in advance of the presidential election. When my wife and I left, we were thrilled to be fleeing the nation during Inauguration Week. Now, days from our return, I’m feeling guilty about having been absent during these first fretful weeks of the new Trump administration. The nation is in tumult and I am consuming patisserie.
On the other hand, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t thinking about staying. France is lovely. The cheese is excellent. The healthcare system doesn’t try to bankrupt its customers. And on top of everything else, everybody gets free berets! (Not true.)
More seriously, as our daily constitutional crisis unspools, I think millions of American liberals like me are weighing their options during their own time of political exile. What is the best course of action? Does one take to the streets? Move to a blue state? Leave the country?
My family emigrated from Ukraine at the turn of the last century when the czar’s May Laws made life for Russian Jews impossible. A few decades later, Hitler did the same for the rest of Europe.
Growing up in the 80’s, that history always felt close at hand. I’ve talked to other Jews who grew up in that time, and we all experienced the same feeling that the rug could be pulled out from under us. It wasn’t that the U.S. was unwelcoming; it was that very recent history had taught us that every person’s open heart could shutter given the right circumstances. Consequently, I’ve always kept a mental go-bag at the ready. Now, for the first time in my life, I’m contemplating using it.
How could I not when things appear to be spiraling out of control?
In D.C., Elon Musk and his band of college-aged flunkies are downloading Americans’ personal data onto their laptops while Trump rattles his flaccid saber at Canada, Mexico, Denmark, Panama, China and the European Union.
Does such hubris call to mind any other very stable geniuses?
Trump’s own czar of the border, Tom Homan, is gleefully predicting domestic unrest, telling Fox News this week that, “You’re gonna see violence on the Southern border. It’s unfortunate, but we know it’s coming.”
Why does he think so? And what happens when it does? Homan may be anticipating violence because violence is what they seek. It’s the authoritarian playbook, after all.
But what will be clear to people five years from now is, at best, hazy in the present. Everybody living under an authoritarian understands that things are likely to get worse before they improve; the only question is how much worse?
When Napoleon appeared before the French Parliament in November 1799 after staging the first part of his coup d’etat, he attempted to convince the assembled deputies to pass a new constitution formalizing his rule. Over heated objections, Napoleon roared, “Remember that I walk with the God of War and the God of Fortune!”
Not quite as pithy as “I alone can fix it,” but pretty good.
And now that the fix is, indeed, in, what are we going to do? I return to the U.S. in a few days but part of me wishes I were not. Part of me wishes that I could tear up my return ticket, smoke Gauloises by the carton and wear my jaunty free beret (again, there are no free berets).
But I cannot. The fight is at home and so home is where I will go. May the second reign of Burger King be as short as that of the Little Corporal—but if it is not, I will be there to battle against it every day until it ends. Vive la révolution!
And eat some pastry.
