Last Updated on December 29, 2025
In December 2024, officers from the US Army Central unit gathered with French military officials in Saint-Avold, France to commemorate the 80th anniversary of the town’s liberation in 1944.
St-Avold, in France’s northeast, is home to the Lorraine American Cemetery, where over 10,000 US service members were laid to rest— making it the largest U.S. military cemetery in Europe. The ceremony commemorated the lives and sacrifices of US allied troops in World War II, and the campaign that liberated the town from Nazi occupying forces in November 1944.
Here are a few important (and moving) excerpts from the page at the official website:
“Eighty years after the battles here, let us honor the memory of the fallen by living up to their ideals,” said Col. William Bimson, the ARCENT command surgeon. “We are not merely commemorating a past event; we are reaffirming our friendship and our commitment to the ideals that inspired the resistance and liberation of Saint-Avold.”
The anniversary served not only as a moment of reflection but also as a platform to strengthen transatlantic bonds.
“This anniversary invites us to celebrate peace once again, and not to forget the sacrifices of so many young people who came to fight for our freedom,” said Mayor Rene Steiner of Saint- Avold.
The partnership between the U.S. and France, cemented in the sacrifices of World War II, remains a cornerstone of shared values and mutual commitment. The 80th anniversary in Saint- Avold was a poignant reminder of the costs of freedom and the enduring importance of honoring history. (emphasis mine)
This milestone anniversary underscores not just a moment in history but a living bond between nations. As the flags of France and the United States flew side by side, the spirit of camaraderie that liberated Saint-Avold 80 years ago remained ever present.“
Is it just me— or does the spirit and tenor of all this feel like distant history? And is it so hyperbolic of me to feel tears welling up as I read it? I’m not one who’s historically been uncritically sentimental about military interventions, to say the least. Nor do I believe that the US has, until recently, been “the good guy” or the “guarantor of worldwide democracy”.
But there’s a real cognitive dissonance taking hold in my brain and heart, as I read the details of the celebration in Saint-Avold— one that took place, let’s not forget, just over two months ago. On the one hand, there’s my own (no doubt naive) expectation that these alliances, friendships and shared values between France, Europe writ large and the US would somehow be unbreakable.
And on the other hand, there are the events of the past six weeks. There’s my shock, anger and sadness at how the current US President, Vice President and others behind these events have seemingly set on fire— then unceremoniously trashed— over 80 years of postwar consensus, and what were thought to be rock-solid alliances, between Europe and the US. A consensus on how to maintain peace, stability and (at least halfway functional) democracies.
All that seems to be seriously threatened (the optimistic scenario) or already going up in smoke (the pessimistic).
And I can’t lie. I’m reeling. I can’t concentrate, or hold a thought for more than a few fish-slippery seconds. One might call this “status quo or normalcy bias”, as the brilliant Carole Cadwalladr has called the strange, bewildering cognitive state many of us now find ourselves lost in. As she notes in the piece:
“We are trapped in what epidemiologist Adam Kucharski correctly identifies as “status quo or normalcy bias”. There is an inability to process, accept and confront the dangerous new reality we are in and to focus on the big picture and the pivot of history that’s occurred in the last two weeks”
And it feels supremely difficult to simply resume my usual beat of, say, probing the history of the French baguette (a fun one I’m slowly working on, and will get to you soon— promise!) or offering the usual advice on what’s going on in Paris.
Nevertheless, I continue to believe in the inherent beauty and value of travel and cultural exploration: two forces that can work against some of our darker human impulses, and keep us (crucially) open to other perspectives.
One might feel annoyed at my digression from these sorts of topics. “Stay in your lane. Write about France. Write about travel, culture, art. Don’t get political”.
But it’s not that simple. For one thing, I’ve never hidden my deep interest in history, including French. I’ve especially been fascinated by the incredible, often uneasy ties of friendship and rivalry that France and the US have nurtured since they both launched into the improbable, messy projects of establishing Republics (see more on that a bit further down).
What’s more, France’s 20th-century history, as I detail here and here at Paris Unlocked, is inseparable from that of two devastating world wars, the poison and unprecedented violence of fascist ideology, and the incredible ways in which the US came to help Europe throw off those demons. Again, I don’t even remotely believe the facile idea that “Americans have been the good guys” in every circumstance.
But it’s undeniable that without the US, Britain and other Allied forces fighting during World War II, Europe would not have been able to so quickly rise from the ashes of war and genocide— allowing for the emergence of a continent where peace, cooperation, prosperity and incredible stability have largely reigned since the Liberation.
And now, it would seem, the US is turning its back on too many of the core ideas and values that have allowed for those conditions to reign. The Trump administration is engaging in a dangerous, deeply cynical realpolitik: one that effectively amounts to huge political gifts for Vladimir Putin and his war of aggression against Ukraine, as well as for far-right, neo-nazi political forces in Europe that are gaining strong ground amid inflation, wage stagnation, and (real, the left would do well to admit) migration crises.
At The Atlantic, Anne Applebaum argues that we have entered the “end of the postwar-world” (paywall-free link). We’ve seen President Trump call President Zelensky a dictator, blame Ukraine for starting the war and refuse to name Russia as the aggressor in the conflict that its “forever President” Vladimir Putin clearly started— and let’s not forget, these are stances that the vast majority of US Republicans would certainly have never taken just months ago.
We’ve seen Vice-President Vance appear in Munich earlier this month to scold European leaders about how unfairly they’ve been treating political parties with well-documented neo-nazi beliefs and political platforms, tell Germany that it shouldn’t feel so much shame about its 20th-century crimes, and take private meetings with the leader of Germany’s far-right AFD party, Alice Weidel.
Michael Tomasky, at The New Republic, eloquently summed up the gut punch effect of these actions:
Last year, many people warned that under a second Trump administration, the U.S. would fundamentally alter its posture toward the world. That our country would go from being (however imperfectly) the linchpin of the concert of democracies to being the leader of the global far-right, anti-democracy movement. Then, it was speculation. Now, it’s happening right in front of us.
It’s a horrifying thing to watch. …. [These] are the acts of a government making its contempt for democratic norms clear every day. Several times a day.
We are indeed in a new, unthinkably dangerous world. And Europe is still reeling at the shock of a longstanding ally acting like an avowed foe. The fear and confusion is palpable. What might happen next? Is Trump’s (allegedly rhetorical)? desire to buy Greenland a real threat? Could he actually try to annex Canada (the Canadians are taking the threat seriously, by the way). If the US pulls out of Nato and one of these things happen, would Europe be at war with the US?
All these scenarios, unthinkable just weeks ago, are now on the table. But for now, it would appear that European leaders are simply hoping that diplomatic pressure can nudge the Trump administration back to a former status quo— one that may already be crumbling beyond repair.
For his part, French President Macron is doing what we all expected he might: preparing what will no doubt be a mixture of charm offensive and tough diplomacy as he heads to Washington, DC this coming Monday to meet with President Trump.
My only hope is that Macron can feed Trump some good ideas for how to elegantly step back from these peace-threatening recent moves, but flatter him into thinking hecame up with them. And I think the French President is well-placed to do so.
Not only has Trump openly admired France’s pomp and grandeur (witness his vocal past adoration for their ostentatious military parades and Presidential palaces). Both men have well-documented Napoleonic personality traits and a level of aggrandized self-belief that seems about on par with the French Emperor’s.
Of course, only Trump has directly quoted Napoleon, seemingly claiming a mantle of absolute power as the Emperor himself did, when he posted on X earlier this month: “He who saves his Country does not violate any Law” (paywall-free link above to the Washington Post).
Four days later, he referred to himself as “the King” on the same platform owned by his broligarch buddy-in-chief Elon Musk— and the White House, instead of playing it down, posted the message on on its official website, alongside a cover of Time magazine that (satirically) depicted the President with a crown atop his head.
On a closing note, and a propos of all this, I’d like to leave us all with some Parisian history (and a bit of promised travel-related fare). It seems (to me, at least) an important moment to refresh our collective memory around the American Revolution, and its singular project of ridding the colonies of a King, whether ceremonial figurehead or absolute monarch.
And as it turns out, many important ideas for the American Revolution were birthed in Paris: a city where people including Benjamin Franklin, Thomas Jefferson and Thomas Paine, gathered to discuss ideas about nascent concepts of democracy, citizenship, natural rights, and a whole bunch of others we now take to be obvious— but were hard won.
Parisian cafes, salons, private mansions, and (surprisingly!) royal palaces were sites for vibrant discussions around “natural rights” for citizens, the principle of separating church and state, and other ideas that would form the foundations of both the American and French Revolutions’ bold declaration of unprecedented rights for a greater tranche of the population.
In this piece, I take you on a self-guided tour through some of the sites and places where American revolutionaries gathered, debated, drank inhuman amounts of a weird new drink called “coffee”— and drafted some of the key documents that led to the new (kingless) nation, including the Treaty of Paris, ending the Revolutionary War with England.
One of the things that refreshing my memory on this history does for me is to remind me of this: Tyranny isn’t a historical exception. It’s been the norm in human history— by far. Let’s not forget how much work and awareness it takes to keep it at bay.
Courtney Traub is the Founder and Editor of Paris Unlocked. She’s a longtime Paris resident who now divides her time (as well as she can manage) between the French capital and Norwich, UK. Co-author of the 2012 Michelin Green Guide to Northern France & the Paris Region, she has been interviewed as an expert on Paris and France by the BBC, Australian Broadcasting Corporation, Le Figaro, Matador Network and other publications. Courtney has also written and reported stories for media outlets including Radio France Internationale, The Christian Science Monitor, Women’s Wear Daily and The Associated Press. In addition to going down various rabbit holes of curiosity when it comes to French culture, history, food and art, Courtney is a scholar of literature and cultural history whose essays and reviews have appeared in various forums.
