De la commémorationnite au commémorathon

le billet de la république photo
« http://larepubliquedelaphoto.com/photographier-a-la-stephen-shore-ou-a-la-alec-soth-ce-nest-pas-faire-preuve-doriginalite/

Marcel, mon adresse se trouve dans les pages blanches de l’annuaire, sous mon vrai patronyme : Jacky Barozzi.
Laisse-moi tes coordonnées et je te retournerai un exemplaire de mon dernier opus, qui sera en librairie dans quelques jours…

lip
: ne faites ni la lippe, ni des culs de poule
http://www.monde-diplomatique.fr/1978/08/BRISAC/34839

Marcel, tu l’as lu le bouquin d’Anne Mullerbach au Banc d’Arguin ?

comment faire le preuve de ce qui rend le plus obtus

encore bravo!

… de fait , lequel marche le mieux ?

Aujourd’hui, c’est les grands qui doutent.

rho l’zouzou..

Oui, mais… avec deux roues

à parigdgi faut l’triporteur..c’est pas des veaux

j’adore…7′ 54 pour reconnaître D ans un flashmob où y’a 24 000 personnes.

http://www.dailymotion.com/video/xrwkqs_flashmob-orchestre-symphonique-dans-la-rue-som-sabadell_creation

moi z’aussi j’y suis ; en Espagne (à la grosse caisse, cherchez pas c moa).

c’est à l’oalpé qu’on cliqura rose..et fort..sinon on passe comme dirait renfield

passez, passez

de fait , lequel marche le mieux ?

Ben voyons, comme si tu allais oser mentionner l’agression permanente…

Dieudonné ne pouvant plus faire le pitre, le courageux BHL se sacrifie et s’essaie à la critique hilarante:

http://www.lepoint.fr/editos-du-point/bernard-henri-levy/la-revolution-selon-et-avec-philippe-sollers-09-01-2014-1778348_69.php

Homme politique, poète et écrivain, Aimé Césaire est né à la Martinique le 26 juin 2013. Il aurait eu cent ans cette année.

En juin, nous le fêterons.

Après contrôle, conforté par le moteur que vous citez, est-ce que vous disposez d’une édition spéciale du même ?

8-900 au compteur, que de commémomentaires !

Le texte ci-dessous (reçu aujourd’hui) est un peu long, mais a au moins le mérite de parler de la WW1, contrairement aux 800 et quelques papotages – restons polio – des intervenants (à deux ou trois exceptions près). J’ai copié-collé un mail, d’où le formatage déficient du papier.

————-
H-Diplo Article Reviews
http://www.h-net.org/~diplo/reviews/
No. 442
Published on 8 January 2014
————-

H-Diplo Article Review Editors: Thomas Maddux and Diane Labrosse

Web and Production Editor: George Fujii

Commissioned for H-Diplo by Diane Labrosse
————-

J. F. V. Keiger. « The Fischer Controversy, the War Origins Debate and
France: A Non-History. » Journal of Contemporary History 48:2 (2013):
363-375. DOI: 10.1177/0022009412472715.
http://dx.doi.org/10.1177/0022009412472715

URL: http://www.h-net.org/~diplo/reviews/PDF/AR442.pdf
————-

Reviewed by Patrick Finney, Department of International Politics,
Aberystwyth University

In the autumn of 2011 a major international conference was convened at
the German Historical Institute in London to mark the fiftieth
anniversary of the publication of Fritz Fischer’s Griff nach der
Weltmacht.1 Fischer’s book sparked a ferocious controversy because of
his trenchantly revisionist claims about the nature of German policy
before 1914 and the causes of the First World War. Specifically, he
argued that policy-makers in Berlin had developed a series of
expansionist war aims and that they had unleashed war in Europe in order
to achieve them. The claim that Germany bore prime responsibility for
the outbreak of the First World War directly challenged the established
consensus in Germany and much of the wider world that no single power
had started the war and that its origins should rather be sought in
structural or systemic factors.

The charge of German ‘war guilt’ embodied in Article 231 of the Treaty
of Versailles had been widely discredited in the inter-war years,
supplanted by an understanding that the conflict had been an accident.
This was the view embodied in David Lloyd George’s famous
characterisation in his War Memoirs that the world « slithered over the
brink into the boiling cauldron of war. »2 In resuscitating the charge of
‘war guilt’ in the 1960s Fischer not only mounted an academic challenge
to established interpretations and methodologies. In the aftermath of a
second global war for which German leaders were indubitably responsible,
his claims raised uncomfortable political questions about continuity in
modern German history and, indeed, the nature of German national
identity. The proceedings of the 2011 conference have now been collected
into a theme issue of the Journal of Contemporary History, guest edited
by Annika Mombauer. They cast considerable new light on the Fischer
controversy and the origins of the First World War and provide much food
for thought about broader historiographical issues in our discipline.

John Keiger’s contribution to the collection focuses on the response of
French historians to the Fischer controversy. His point of departure is
the puzzling fact that, despite the seismic importance of the First
World War for France, Fischer’s work excited little interest there and
the subject of the war’s origins still remains relatively under-studied.
His explanation focuses chiefly on the structure of the historical
discipline in France, its professional sociology and the role of
powerful ‘gate-keepers’ in shaping the direction and nature of
historical inquiry.

The key figure here is Pierre Renouvin, Professor of the history of
international relations at the Sorbonne since 1933 and the doyen of
French international historians. Renouvin was an extremely influential
individual in the French academic establishment, not least because the
mandarin status of the professoriate conferred on senior figures
« monopolistic control over the subject of doctoral theses through a
network of national committees »: « the award of any doctorate and any
appointment to, or promotion in, any university position » (372) was
dependent upon the power of patronage. Where the First World War was
concerned, Renouvin’s authority was reinforced by his status as a
Western Front combat veteran, twice severely wounded, and his pioneering
scholarship on the war and its origins in the inter-war years. He had
served as the editor of the Revue d’histoire de la guerre mondiale,
played a key role in the compilation of the official collection of
French documents on diplomacy before 1914, and written scores of
articles and books on the topic. The broad thrust of his work was to
contradict the powerful revisionist trend that sought to undermine the
notion of German « war guilt » (and even, in some cases, to shift the
blame for the war onto France). As he wrote in 1934, « the firm decision
taken by Germany, even at the cost of a European conflict, to ‘bail out’
an Austria-Hungary threatened with disintegration by nationalist
movements, is without doubt the essential explanation of the 1914-1918
war » (372).

In view of this, it might have been expected that Renouvin would welcome
Fischer’s reassertion of German responsibility for precipitating the
war, all the more so because it came from across the Rhine. Yet in fact
he responded to Griff nach der Weltmacht with a « stinging review » (365)
in Revue Historique. 3 While Renouvin noted that Fischer had uncovered
some important new documents, and offered some valuable reassessments of
key personalities and events, he criticised his total neglect of French
scholarship and concluded that his overall argument simply confirmed the
views that French historiography had advanced in the inter-war years.
For Keiger, Renouvin’s dismissal of Fischer’s work was a key reason for
the book’s failure to ignite any real controversy in France, or to
stimulate any serious new investigation into the origins of the war,
even after the French archives on 1914 were opened in 1964. (Griff nach
der Weltmacht was not even published in French translation until 1970.4)
Renouvin implied that there was little new to say about the origins of
the war, and given his hegemonic power within the discipline of
international history in France, this strong steer was apt to be heeded
by junior scholars.

The neglect of research on the origins of the war, and France’s role in
it, has continued ever since. In part, Keiger speculates that this was
due to the sophisticated methodology for studying international history
elaborated by Renouvin and his Sorbonne successor Jean-Baptiste
Duroselle. The particular ways in which they emphasised the deep
underlying forces – both material and cultural – shaping international
relations and characterised the decision-making process were not such as
to encourage more traditional research into the diplomacy of 1914.
Scholars in the school that grew up around Renouvin and Duroselle thus
explored various aspects of international relations before the war, but
none adequately tackled the issue of the war’s origins as such. This
state of affairs persisted even after fresh archival materials,
including significant collections of private papers, became available
from the 1970s, and even though – in theory – there was no reason why
the methodologies of Renouvin and Duroselle could not have been applied
to the question. Instead, the study of First World War came to be
dominated by the new breed of cultural historians, such as Jean-Jacques
Becker, who were more interested in issues such as the soldiers’
experience and commemoration than traditional political or diplomatic
matters. Meanwhile, international historians tended to focus on more
recent topics: craving and valorising empirical novelty, they have moved
forward « in step with the chronological opening of the public archives »
(371) and have left more distant subject areas to lie fallow. Thus the
most significant work on the war’s origins in relation to France has
been done by foreign historians, including Keiger himself.

French historiography on the topic even today remains « stunted, if not
non-existent » (373). Although Renouvin died in 1974, he still casts a
long shadow over the field, with French historians reluctant to trespass
upon the « domain réservé » (373) that he had staked out in the inter-war
years. When Duroselle wrote about the origins of the war just before his
death in 1994, he did so without engaging with new archival evidence and
essentially followed the orthodox Renouvin line that Austria-Hungary and
Germany risked general war and thus bore the lion’s share of the blame
(albeit « without the deterministic Fischerite premeditation' »(373)).5
Nor has any other French historian mounted a serious investigation into
the new sources that have become available, either in relation to
France’s role or to that of any other power or to the origins of the war
more generally.

Keiger clearly deprecates the fact that Renouvin’s views still dominate
the field, almost ninety years since they were first enunciated, but he
strives to detect some optimistic portents. So he reports the views of
Robert Frank, a subsequent holder of the Sorbonne chair, that an
« epistemological revolution » (374) might finally be afoot in French
international history, as a result of recent interdisciplinary
engagements with various strands in International Relations and
transnational history.6 Moreover, he draws attention to a recent work by
a German historian on French policy before the war, Stefan Schmidt’s
Frankreichs Aussenpolitik in der Julikrise 1914.7 Schmidt has revived
some of the critical ideas about French policy in the summer of 1914
that had originally figured in the 1920’s campaign to mute German ‘war
guilt’: far from playing a purely passive role, for Schmidt France in
fact took a notably hard line in the crisis, especially during the
crucial meeting with the Russian leadership in St Petersburg in the
second half of July. Fischer’s intervention ultimately proved to be a
damp squib where French historiography was concerned. Would it not be
ironic, Keiger ponders, if another provocative work by a German
historian almost fifty years later were to serve as a « sort of
nationalistic prod » (375) for French historians finally to work afresh
on this topic?

Keiger’s article is an important and thought-provoking critical
historiographical intervention. It performs a valuable service in
piecing together some of the reasons why French historians were largely
unperturbed by Fischer and have neglected the subject of the war’s
origins ever since. Moreover, in seeking those reasons in
extra-empirical factors, and especially in disciplinary politics broadly
defined, it offers insights which are evidently transferable to many
other debates within international history. The article might have been
improved by a slightly firmer editorial hand: there are some
exasperating repetitions and inconsistencies, and the arrangement of
material is sometimes a little illogical (for example, we encounter
Renouvin several times before we are given his full biographical
details). It would also have been helpful to have had a fuller and more
precise discussion of how Fischer’s methodology (and, indeed, his
interpretation) contrasted with those of Renouvin and Duroselle, since
this remains a little obscure. Furthermore, while Keiger is undoubtedly
right that Renouvin’s dominating presence discouraged other French
historians from taking up the issue of war origins in the 1960s and
beyond, the emphasis he places on Renouvin’s review of Griff nach der
Weltmacht in this respect might be questioned. For one thing, the great
bulk of that review deals – as one might expect given the balance of the
book’s content- with Germany’s war aims throughout the conflict rather
than with the origins of the war. For another, not all readers will
agree with his characterisation of Renouvin’s review as « stinging, »
given the praise it lavishes on Fischer’s research and, indeed, his
wider scholarly achievement.

Some additional evidence on this matter has been provided by Stephan
Petzold in an important doctoral thesis (as yet unpublished) on the
Fischer controversy.8 Petzold makes extensive use of the private papers
of Fischer and numerous other German historians to probe behind the
scenes of the public debates and to uncover the strategic professional
manoeuvring of the participants. He reveals that Fischer embarked on an
active campaign to promote his book, and mobilised his transnational
network of contacts to encourage foreign historians to review it in
their leading national journals; this was only natural since foreign
scholarship generally tended to be more critical of Germany’s role in
1914 and had in consequence helped to inspire Fischer in his own
writing.9 Inter alia, Fischer had written to Renouvin in December 1961
and asked him to review Griff nach der Weltmacht. While the subsequent
review of course contained some criticisms, Petzold sees it as an
important contribution to the « overwhelmingly positive » reception the
book received abroad.10 Petzold also reveals that Renouvin proved
unreceptive to the direct efforts of Gerhard Ritter – one of Fischer’s
key antagonists – to persuade him to block, or at least to discourage,
the publication of a French translation. Ritter argued in private
correspondence in October 1962 that the entire German guild of
historians was opposed to Fischer’s distortion of the truth, and that a
translation might damage Franco-German amity; but Renouvin maintained
that despite occasionally « excessive conclusions » the work was original
and important, and fully merited translation.11 For Petzold, therefore,
Renouvin was in fact a key member of Fischer’s global network of
supporters, whose prestige helped Fischer enormously in his battles with
his more conservative colleagues in West Germany.

This evidence suggests that Keiger’s argument may need some refinement,
or additional nuance, but it does not detract from its fundamental
value. He casts important new light on French scholarly neglect of the
origins of the First World War, and adds to our understanding of the
international dimensions of the Fischer controversy. Moreover, he
fruitfully directs our attention to issues of disciplinary politics
which are an integral part of the lived experience of practitioners of
international history, but which are too seldom incorporated explicitly
into our historiographical discussions.

Patrick Finney teaches international history in the Department of
International Politics, Aberystwyth University, UK. His recent
publications include ‘The Ubiquitous Presence of the Past? International
History and Collective Memory’, International History Review, October
2013 (advance online publication:
http://www.tandfonline.com/eprint/5qTekJp9pYGXKrxC2cKN/full#.UmZF5flJNu5),
and (guest ed.), ‘Vasily Grossman: Ruthless Truth in the Totalitarian
Century’, theme issue, Journal of European Studies, vol. 43, no. 4.
(2013).

This work is licensed under the Creative Commons
Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 United States License. To view a
copy of this license, visit
http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/us/ or send a letter to
Creative Commons, 444 Castro Street, Suite 900, Mountain View,
California, 94041, USA.

Notes

1 Fritz Fischer, Griff nach der Weltmacht: Die Kriegszielpolitik des
kaiserlichen Deutschlands, 1914/18 (Düsseldorf, 1961), translated into
English as Germany’s Aims in the First World War (London, 1967).

2 David Lloyd George, quoted in Annika Mombauer, The Origins of the
First World War: Controversies and Consensus (Harlow, 2002), 95.

3 Pierre Renouvin, ‘Les buts de guerre de l’Allemagne (1914-1918)
d’après les travaux de Fritz Fischer’, Revue Historique, vol. 228, no. 2
(1962), 381-390.

4 Fritz Fischer, Les buts de guerre de l’Allemagne impériale: 1914-1918
(Paris, 1970).

5 Jean-Baptise Duroselle, La Grande Guerre des Français:
l’incompréhensible (Paris, 1994).

6 For a more recent extended discussion, see Robert Frank (ed.), Pour
l’histoire des relations internationales (Paris, 2012).

7 Stefan Schmidt, Frankreichs Aussenpolitik in der Julikrise 1914: Ein
Beitrag zur Geschichte des Ausbruchs des Ersten Weltkrieges (Munich,
2009).

8 Stephan Petzold, ‘Fritz Fischer and the Rise of Critical
Historiography in West Germany, 1945-1965: A Study in the Social
Production of Historical Knowledge’, PhD thesis, Aberystwyth University,
2010. Petzold is also a contributor to this special issue: ‘The Social
Making of a Historian: Fritz Fischer’s Distancing from
Bourgeois-Conservative Historiography, 1930-1960’, Journal of
Contemporary History, vol. 48, no. 2 (2013), 271-289. I was the
internal examiner of Petzold’s thesis in January 2011.

9 Petzold, ‘Fritz Fischer and the Rise of Critical Historiography’,
177-185.

10 Petzold, ‘Fritz Fischer and the Rise of Critical Historiography’,
180.

11 Petzold, ‘Fritz Fischer and the Rise of Critical Historiography’,
184. Renouvin and Ritter had worked together in the early 1950s in the
Franco-German historians’ commission that attempted to arrive at agreed
interpretations of contentious issues: it was hoped that incorporating
these into school history teaching in the two countries might promote
political reconciliation. On the origins of the First World War, the
commission concluded that the documents did not allow for the
attribution of a premeditated will to war to any single power. Ritter
sought to remind Renouvin of this finding in their correspondence, in
order to co-opt him into his anti-Fischer campaign, but to no avail.
Keiger suggests that Renouvin’s past experience of collaborating with
Ritter in the commission might have contributed to his ‘severe position’
(366) on Fischer’s book. However, as is argued here, whether he in fact
adopted such a position is open to question. Moreover, without a more
detailed discussion of the trajectory of Renouvin’s thinking on war
origins – particularly as to why he was prepared to subscribe to an
interpretation in the commission’s 1951 report that seemed to be at
variance with his longstanding personal views – it remains unclear how
this fits into the larger story. (Petzold argues that in the later
1940s, Renouvin appeared to soften for a while in his thinking about the
‘singular responsibility’ of the Central Powers for the war (‘Fritz
Fischer and the Rise of Critical Historiography’, 41), but does not
develop the point.)

—

Jacques Barozzi dit: 10 janvier 2014 à 16 h 32 min

OK Jacques, je poste demain.

Luc Férier dit: 10 janvier 2014 à 15 h 53 min
« Mon cadavre fait du tricot en pays de Caux »

Je l’ai lu. L’assassin est le portier, c’est ça ?

Ce n’est pas tout a fait ça, Luc, il faut relire le livre.

@ Roger Godement : vous n’avez pas seulement oublié de signer votre contribution, vous avez oublié de la poster.

@ D.

Depuis que rose m’a dit qui tu étais, j’ai honte pour toi.

absence planétaire à la brésilienne dit: 10 janvier 2014 à 14 h 24 min
ça, c’est super drôle.

Ronaldo fait une passe à 14H34.
le président est un citoyen. C’est son prime minister qui l’affirme. Le code civil ( Napoléon, encore lui) s’applique au citoyen hollandien.
Ce à quoi, le ministre des transports a surencheri: circulez, y’a rien à voir, en scooter.

D. avant que j’oublie: mes meilleurs souvenirs à Dexter.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=44UC6muN8KY#t=18

… j’ai déjà collaboré au Banc d’Arguin pour une oeuvre caritative, je reçois souvent des invitations de Jean – François Mouriot, le nom de cette Dame revient souvent dans son catalogue, ils organisent des rencontres gourmandes je crois et toutes sortes d’activités dans l’Oise.

C’est d’ailleurs en travaillant un passage étroit dans cette grotte qu’ils découvrirent la grotte attenante des Trois-Frères

..note clopine..avec du jus d’viande si tu n’as rien de mieux..c’est vendredi, pour le bar

Puisque vous refusez de vous taire, adieu !

Bouguereau, vous ne l’emporterez pas en paradis.

La rose l’est complètement parano et mytho en braille de realitichaud, folle comme un panier troué épicétou

une folle + un boutonneux = du caca

vous ne l’emporterez pas en paradis

je n’ai pas d’âme je rappelle..j’irais ou vont les 80 myons de cochons qui meurent chaque année en france..

c’est cela, j’ai mis une virgule, prénom, nom, + la Dame évoquée, ensuite un pluriel.

les intimidations pffft.

le courageux BHL se sacrifie

c’est dingue..ça fait carrément peur..évidemment j’entends lassouline et son « so what »
..tout est pour le mieux

comment ce type a t’il pu « durer » et « prospérer »..ça me fout les boules toudincou

Parlez de cochon et Barozzi lève la queue

avec du navet, ça l’ferait pas.

le bar c’est à la girolle et au jus de rostebif qu’il meurt content

tutututtt, le bar au jus de rosbeef ??? Tu fais du surréalisme dans ton assiette…note le bar aux moules c’est un truc pour C.P. moi je tenterais le bar au rolmops spécial aigreurs d’estomac.

« on dirait que chte dégoute »

c-à-d qu’hormis feu ton pote Régniez, nul ici n’est cannibale, le boug…

càd que si tu continues tu es bon pour le RotHarry, note c’est un club comme un autre, comme seul membre tu peux pas te bouffer.

Quand même, c’est pas la faute à Closer si Hollande va froucheller en scooter. Ca confirme au monde entier qu’il refile son mariage pour tous sauf pour lui. Vous devez comprendre que de l’extérieur on pense que les français sont siphonnés, dans les pays du nord avec monarchie on voit pas un bidule pareil, le Sarkothon puis le Hollandesextour, ils ont exilé DSK en Croatie pauvres Balkans.

le RotHarry de Potter, trés connu sur ce blog en tout cas.

D; vous me l’avez enlevé de la bouche, ce bar en croûte de sel, au fenouil…

c-à-d qu’hormis feu ton pote Régniez

tu remues la fourchette dans la plaie

vamos..vers la nuit nouarte

J’ai déjà pêché le bar de ligne moi-même, il y a une taille réglementaire de 30 cm. Je sais pas pourquoi je te dis ça, bouguereau mais j’avais besoin de te le dire.
Sinon, le bar est pas ce que je préfère. Il est fin, mais manque un peu de caractère.
Le rouget et un poisson sublime. Je suis un inconditionnel du bon rouget.

Voici la sculpturede dont je doute qu’elle trouble autant la RdL qu’un mot en latin ou en grec, ou en hébreu!
http://img259.imageshack.us/img259/4430/0062georgescainsquarebnn7.jpg

…
…trop sommeil,…pour écrire,…bonne-nuit à tous!…etc,…
…

Allons ! Allons ! Lazarillo…. !

Soyez clément avec ce gentil garçon venu d’Afrique qui s’est passé l’âme au fixateur capillaire antisioniste. Comme on dit chez nous en Provence : Abdel ? …il est bien brave…un peu sourd, peut-être… un peu seul…

Beau parcours professionnel qui vous honore, Lazarillo !

@JC, Jacques Barozzi, au fond, je suis persuadé qu’Abdeladolf n’a pas un mauvais fond, qu’il n’est pas aussi méchant qu’il en a l’air (aujourd’hui je suis d’humeur bienveillante) mais comme beaucoup, et pas uniquement parmi les citoyens issus d’u Maghreb, il a fait du sionisme son fonds intellectuel et politique, et même la tête sur le billot il ne cédera pas un cm2 de terrain. Et c’est comme ça qu’on se retrouve à faire semblant de penser (ils sont nombreux!) qu’une ordure comme Dieudonné pratique un humour limite, outrancier parfois, mais pas antisémite. Ou bien, que l’antisémitisme furieux est un des aspects que peut prendre l’humour. C’est ce que disais hier soir chez Taddéi (un pote à Passou…) Jean Bricmont, physicien à l’Université Catho de Bruxelles, penseur autoproclamé, journaliste occasionnel au Monde Diplo et admirateur de Chomski qui préfaça Faurisson au nom de la liberté d’opinion (jamais personne ne lui a demandé s’il aurait préfacé Mein kampf au cas où cet ouvrage aurait été menacé de censure) : en gros, à chacun son humour. Alain jakubowicz a eu beaucoup de mérite de ne pas lui sauter à la gorge.

TKT dit: 11 janvier 2014 à 14 h 18 min
« Personnellement, je suis pour que D. soit châtié, supprimé de l’internet. Lynché »

Lynché ? Bigre !

@rose,

sans me pousser jusqu’à vous traduire une entrée méticuleusement écrite par un faiseur d’encyclopédies :

http://www.larousse.fr/dictionnaires/italien-francais/cazzo/12042

Bonne journée, si cela est possible…

JC et Abdel sont plus près que jamais de se comprendre

« JC et Abdel sont plus près que jamais de se comprendre »

Surtout autour d’un couscous au mérou ! On pourra rigoler ensemble de la lourdeur sectaire de l’AFPS : un summum !

On peut toujours espérer, comme on peut toujours ne pas y croire !