Sana’a, the capital of Yemen, has been continuously inhabited for over 2,500 years, with its densely populated old city characterized by unique architecture bearing geometric patterns. It has been recognized as a UNESCO World Heritage Site since 1986, due not only to its aesthetic beauty, but the resourceful use of local materials and clever urban planning: The multistory buildings reflect efforts to house a large community within a tightly defended fortress without compromising space, hygiene, and recreation. The city abounds with green spaces, public baths, and markets; despite Yemen’s grinding poverty, homeownership is fairly high.
Like much of northern Yemen, Sanna has faced thousands of air strikes from a Saudi-led coalition that intervened in the country’s civil war in 2015 after the Iran-aligned Houthi group ousted the internationally recognised government the previous year; the war has killed tens of thousands and brought Yemen to the brink of famine.
This past April, the United Nations brokered a ceasefire that has suspended air, sea, and land attacks, allowed desperately needed imports into Houthi-controlled seaports, and has reopened Sanaa airport. The truce is the first comprehensive agreement in the war and has actually held up fairly well — allowing citizens to rebuild their exceptional cultural and historical legacy.
Reutersreported on local efforts to fix their broken and dispirited city:
Albania, one of the poorest countries in Europe, has committed to taking in up to 4,000 Afghan refugees, which is among the most in the world and the most in proportion to its population (which is roughly 2.8 million)Hundreds of Afghans, including roughly 250 children, are being housed in coastal resorts, under a clever emergency plan developed by the government in response to a devastating 2019 earthquake; when thousands of people were rendered homeless, officials opted to shelter them in the mostly unused space of beach hotels.
Such hospitality is deeply rooted in Albanian culture. The Muslim-majority country is known for its stringent code of generosity and hospitality to anyone and everyone who needs it. Known as besa, which roughly translates to “trust”, “faith”, or “oath”, it commits all Albanians to help people in need regardless of their background or circumstances. As locals explain, the tradition is simple: “If someone needs a place to stay, you give it to them, period”.
While the practice may go back to ancient times, it was first codified in the Kanun, a set of customary laws written in the 15th century to govern the many independent tribes of the region. Within this book is a proverb that sums it up nicely: “Before the house belongs to the owner, it first belongs to God and the guest.” You could knock on the door of any house and ask for help and the owner would have to take you in. The Kanun even advises households to always have a spare bed ready at any time, just in case.
While besa is a duty that binds all Albanians, there is evidence that they genuinely find hosting guests as a point of pride. There is one anecdote about a town that rebelled against a hotel that was going to be built there; everyone went to town hall and complained, saying people who needed a place to stay could just come knock on their doors.
Perhaps the greatest proof of this tradition is the Second World War, after which Albania was perhaps the only country to have more Jews than before the Holocaust. Not only did they save nearly their entire Jewish community, but they saved another two thousand or so who had fled to the country. Albanians largely resisted all the pressure and threats by Axis forces to turn over people in hiding. Had anyone given up their guest, they would bear a great shame that could only be solved by “cleaning the blood”—meaning taking vengeance against whoever took and harmed their guest (which is one hell of a story idea…).
This is also why Albania is relied upon by the U.S. and Europe to take in folks neither wants, from Iranian and Syrian refugees, to Guantanamo detainees deemed innocent but nonetheless untrusted.
Contrary to popular belief, Cinco de Mayo is not Mexico’s Independence Day—which is celebrated September 16—and is not even an official or major holiday there.
It actually originates in the United States—most likely among Mexicans communities in 1860s California—and is more popular here than anywhere else in the world. Not unlike St. Patrick’s Day—which also took off mostly due to Irish immigrants in America—Cinco de Mayo has become both an opportunity to drink and party, and a testament to the widespread appeal of Mexican cuisine, music, art, and culture generally.
In fact, there are now major celebrations in places as distinct as Australia, Canada, France, the United Kingdom, Japan, Nigeria, and South Africa. As a reflection of the holiday’s U.S. roots, many foreign celebrations often invoke American or Mexican American culture specifically.
Nevertheless, Cinco de Mayo does have a major connection to Mexico itself, as the anniversary of the country’s shocking defeat of invading French forces in the Battle of Puebla in 1862.
Mexico had just emerged from a three-year civil war known as the Reform War, which was triggered in part by the passage of one of the world’s most progressive constitutions; it had enshrined freedoms of speech, conscience, the press, and assembly, and even the right to bear arms. It also reaffirmed the abolition of slavery—which Mexico was one of the first countries to ban, back in 1824—and of debtor prison, cruel and unusual punishment, and the death penalty.
The pro-constitution faction, known as the “Liberals”, ultimately won against the “Conservatives”, who had opposed the subsequent weakening of the church, army, and landed elite. Led by Beninto Juarez (pictured on the right)—a poor orphan who was Mexico’s first indigenous leader—a battered Mexico had become heavily indebted to foreign nations namely France, Spain, and Great Britain. After declaring a pause on loan payments for two years, the European powers sent naval forces to pressure reimbursement; while Juarez was able to reach a settlement with the British and Spanish, France used the opportunity to take over the country and declare a new Mexican Empire under its control.
The entire enterprise was really designed to fulfill the imperial ambitions of French Emperor Napoleon III, the nephew and heir of Napoleon Bonaparte, who envisioned creating a massive “Latin” empire across the Western Hemisphere. The defeated Conservatives, many of whom were monarchists and nobility, collaborated for their own benefit, giving the French another edge. To top it all off, France was one of the preeminent powers of the time—and at one point had the backing of the U.K., Austria, and Spain—so the fact that Mexico was able to mount such a resounding victory became a cause for celebration.
Mexican forces at Pueblo, as elsewhere, were under-equipped and outnumbered, in this case by two to one. But under the leadership of General Ignacio Zaragoza Seguín—who resigned as Mexico’s secretary of war just to lead the army—they surprised the world with their superior tactics, inflicting the first major defeat of a French army in fifty years.
As explained in the Washington Post, the Mexicans made the most of their homefield advantage in an era where armies were just figuring out how to use guns en masse?:
A young Mexican general, Ignacio Zaragoza, placed a small, tough force at Puebla and scoured the countryside for volunteers to bolster the defense. A long trench was added to the city’s existing fortifications. Some 4,500 men occupied this position on May 5, when 6,000 French troops under Major General Charles de Lorencez came up the valley.
The overconfident French nobleman ordered an immediate attack. Zaragoza’s riflemen found easy targets as de Lorencez’s soldiers charged the trenches. Those Frenchmen who survived the climb met savage hand-to-hand fighting at the Mexican trenches.
A second charge also failed. As Union and Confederate generals would soon learn on battlefields from Corinth, Miss., to Gettysburg, a ferocious foe in an entrenched position had a tremendous advantage. The bloody field filled with French bodies.
When a third charge also failed, Zaragoza unleashed his cavalry on both flanks of the retreating French. The battle became a rout, and de Lorencez fell back all the way to Veracruz, where he counted his losses (as many as 500 killed and wounded) and waited to be reinforced from back home.
Unfortunately for Mexico, it would be a short-lived, if still impressive, victor.y Zaragoza died of typhoid fever shortly after his victory, and the loss of such a brilliant young general helped pave the way for France to ultimately win the war and install an “emperor” beholden to their interests (and related to Napoleon III). But Mexican liberals and republicans, still led by Juarez, continued the fight against this imposed monarchy through guerilla warfare and resistance. They garnered enough popular support at home and abroad (including from the U.S.) to prevail against French forces and secure their independence in 1867.
Though they lost initial war, Mexicans had won the larger conflict, and remained proud that they were able to hold their own and eventually win their freedom. Hence the battle is still a point of pride for the small town of Pueblo—the only place that probably celebrates it as enthusiastically as Americans—and an ideal basis for a holiday celebrating Mexican culture.
But the U.S. connection does not end there; as some historians argue, the Mexican victory—which the embattled Americans had a vested interest in—may have changed the course of U.S. and world history:
The United States likely benefited more from the battle than did Mexico: the French were so occupied with Mexico that they were not able to significantly fund or assist the Confederacy during our own Civil War, despite the best of intentions. The Union, of course, was funded through a series of government taxes, including the Internal Revenue Act of 1862, the precursor to our modern tax system. Since the French were sympathetic to the Confederacy, had the French easily taken Puebla in 1862, freeing up military and other resources, the entire course of history might have been changed.
A similar take from the same WaPo article at the top:
Had a triumphant French army been raising the flag in Mexico City that summer, it might have made all the difference. The wavering Napoleon might have been emboldened to recognize the Confederacy, pulling the British along with him. Instead, the French army was licking its wounds, mangled by a smaller force of Mexican irregulars, and the emperor was momentarily chastened. Though France managed to topple the Mexican government the following year, its brief reign there came too late to help the South. The North had regained its momentum, and Lincoln was on his way to saving the Union.
Of course, such “what-ifs” are, by definition, difficult to put much stock in. But these events, like Cinco de Mayo itself, speak to just how intertwined our nations, cultures, communities, and histories are. For all the tumult and conflict—the Mexican-American War and our annexation of half of Mexico; hostilities centered on the Southern Border and immigration; and now “cultural anxiety” about the large Mexican/Hispanic communities generally—the two societies, for better or worse, share a mutual love for one another that transcends these things.
Mexico is America’s second largest trading partner after Canada—third if you count the EU as a country—while America is Mexico’s top trading partner. Mexico is one of the top destinations for American travelers, as well as retirees; more Americans live there than anywhere outside the country (about 1.5 million). For its part, America has the largest Mexican community outside Mexico, at nearly 50 million; they make up over 11% of all Americans, more than half of all Latins, and a quarter of all foreign-born people. But the vast majority (71%) were born in the U.S., and most live in the American Southwest—which was formerly Mexican territory.
And as trite as it may seem, the mainstream appeal of Cinco de Mayo—and of Mexican culture generally—as well as the fact that most of the world seems to view it as a Mexican-American fusion, is just another example of the indelible connections between our nations.
Most of us are familiar with the Muller-Lyer optical illusion above, named after its creator, German psychologist Franz Carl Müller-Lyer.
Like most optical illusions, it is designed to test basic brain and visual functions, helping us learn how and why human senses, cognition, etc. work the way they do. Many folks think the second line is longer than the first, even though both are the same, which purportedly shows that humans are susceptible to certain visual guides like arrows (though explanations for why this happens vary).
But the results do not tell the whole story: while many Westerners fall for this illusion (myself included), a study of 14 indigenous cultures found that none were tricked to the same degree. In fact, some cultures, like the San people of the Kalahari Desert, knew the two lines were equal length.
That’s because most studies claiming to reflect universal traits of human psychology and physiology only do so for a small and specific demographic—people from “WEIRD” societies, or Western, Educated, Industrialized, Rich and Democratic—which represent a tiny minority of all humans (about 12 percent).
The “WEIRD” phenomenon was first described in a 2010 paper from the University of British Columbia in Vancouver, which found that 96 percent of studies in economics, psychology, and cognitive science—such as the ones on optical illusions—were performed on people with European backgrounds. A sample of hundreds of studies in leading psychology journals found close to 70 percent of subjects were from the U.S., and of these, 67 percent were undergraduates studying psychology (which further slants studies to reflect one particular age group).
All this means that a randomly selected American undergraduate is 4,000 times likelier to be a subject in a psych study—and thus reflect all of human nature—than a random non-Westerner.
Yet when scientists perform some of these experiments in other cultures, the results are very different—not just for optical illusions, but for things as diverse as moral reasoning, notions of fairness, and sexual behavior. Even mental disorders seem to manifest differently across cultures and ethnic groups: one small study found that people with schizophrenia in India and Ghana hear friendlier voices than their counterparts in the U.S., suggesting that culture and environment may play a role. (This may account for why Westerners have a harder time with the Muller-Lyer optical illusion than some indigenous people: Most Americans are raised in urban environments where horizontal lines and sharp corners are ubiquitous; this presumably influences us into making optical calibrations that can potentially misfire, which forager societies like the San do not have to worry about.)
In fact, people from WEIRD societies like the U.S. appear to be outliers among humans, with the authors of the UBC concluding that Westerners “are among the least representative populations one could find for generalizing about humans”.
As an writer for NPR blithely noted, “It was not so much that the emperor of psychology had no clothes. It was more that he was dancing around in Western garb pretending to represent all humanity”.
Fortunately, researchers have wizened to these biases over the past decade, carefully adding qualifiers and caveats such as “in college populations” or “in Western society.” But its still easy for journalists, analysts, and casual readers like ourselves to read the findings of these studies and ascribe them to all of humanity. Much of human nature, like humans themselves, is a lot more complicated and multi-variable than WEIRD folks suggest.
Like most aspiring parents, I think a lot about how I will raise my children. Obviously, I am not alone in these concerns, since raising another human being is one of the most consequential things one can do.
That is why parenting advice is a dime a dozen, and why there has been so much interest and discussion around parenting styles from Asia or France. People everywhere share the same understandable need to learn the best way to shape their children in ways that will help them flourish.
One approach that has received far less attention is Mayan parenting, which challenges many of the assumptions that underpin parenting across the world. NPR has a great piece about it, and I recommend reading the whole thing. Here are some choice excerpts highlighting the life and philosophies of a Mayan mom:
Burgos is constantly on parental duty. She often tosses off little warnings about safety: “Watch out for the fire” or “Don’t play around the construction area.” But her tone is calm. Her body is relaxed. There’s no sense of urgency or anxiety.
In return, the children offer minimal resistance to their mother’s advice. There’s little whining, little crying and basically no yelling or bickering.
In general, Burgos makes the whole parenting thing look — dare, I say it — easy. So I ask her: “Do you think that being a mom is stressful?”
Burgos looks at me as if I’m from Mars. “Stressful? What do you mean by stressful?” she responds through a Mayan interpreter.
A five-minute conversation ensues between Burgos and the interpreter, trying to convey the idea of “stressful.” There doesn’t seem to be a straight-up Mayan term, at least not pertaining to motherhood.
But finally, after much debate, the translator seems to have found a way to explain what I mean, and Burgos answers.
“There are times that I worry about my children, like when my son was 12 and only wanted to be with his friends and not study,” Burgos says. “I was worried about his future.” But once she guided him back on track, the worry went away.
In general, she shows no sense of chronic worry or stress.
“I know that raising kids is slow,” she says. “Little by little they will learn.”
I would love to channel that delicate balance of stoicism and paternalism, somewhere between “helicopter” and “free-range” parenting.
As it turns out, the Mayan approach reflects a fundamentally different paradigm to parenting. Whereas most Western cultures frame parenting as a matter of control—be it less or more, or over some things but not others—the Maya do not even have a word for control as it relates to children.
“We think of obedience from a control angle. Somebody is in charge and the other one is doing what they are told because they have to,” says Barbara Rogoff, a psychologist at the University of California, Santa Cruz, who has studied the Maya culture for 30 years.
And if you pay attention to the way parents interact with children in our society, the idea is blazingly obvious. We tend to boss them around. “Put your shoes on!” or “Eat your sandwich!”
“People think either the adult is in control or the child is in control,” Rogoff says.
But what if there is another way to interact with kids that removes control from the equation, almost altogether?
That’s exactly what the Maya — and several other indigenous cultures — do. Instead of trying to control children, Rogoff says, parents aim to collaborate with them.
“It’s kids and adults together accomplishing a common goal,” Rogoff says. “It’s not letting the kids do whatever they want. It’s a matter of children — and parents — being willing to be guided.”
In the Maya culture, even the littlest of children are treated with this respect. “It’s collaborative from the get-go.”
No doubt this collaborative and egalitarian approach would be alien to most American parents (among others I’m sure). So would the Mayan idea of what is called “alloparenting”:
Human children didn’t evolve in a nuclear family. Instead, for hundreds of thousands of years, kids have been brought up with a slew of people — grandparents, aunts, uncles, siblings, the neighbors, Lancy writes. It’s not that you need a whole village, as the saying goes, but rather an extended family — which could include biological relatives but also neighbors, close friends or paid help.
Throughout human history, motherhood has been seen as a set of tasks that can be accomplished by many types of people, like relatives and neighbors, the historian John R. Gillis writes in The World Of Their Own Making. Anthropologists call them “alloparents” — “allo” simply means “other.”
Across the globe, cultures consider alloparents key to raising children, Lancy writes.
The Maya moms value and embrace alloparents. Their homes are porous structures and all sorts of “allomoms” flow in and out. When a woman has a baby, other mothers work together to make sure she can take a break each day to take a shower and eat meals, without having to hold the baby. (How civilized is that!)
In one household with four kids that I visited, the aunt dropped off food, the grandma stopped by to help with a neighbor’s baby and, all the while, the oldest daughter looked after the toddler — while the mom fed the livestock and started to make lunch. But in Western culture, over the past few centuries, we have pushed alloparents to the periphery of the parenting landscape, Gillis writes. They aren’t as valued and sometimes even denigrated as a means for working mothers to outsource parenting duties.
It is a stark contrast to the stereotypical—and still widespread—notion of the “mom in a box”: A mother stuck at home with the kids and responsible for virtually every domestic task in addition to nearly all parental duties. Learning on dads, relatives, or close friends is more common—if only by necessity—but is still treated as a last resort or otherwise unusual.
Unfortunately, to many people outside of Africa, the concept of a black or African civilization doesn’t register. Despite being the cradle of humanity, with a history spanning tens of thousands of years, few could name or envision any of its numerous cultures, kingdoms, and empires. The reasons range from the legacy of European colonialism—which downplayed, overshadowed, or even destroyed native cultures—to the simple fact that many African civilizations lacked written records.
Well, the West African nation of Senegal, long considered one of the continent’s great success stories, is looking to rectify that. A couple years ago, it opened the 150,000-square foot Musée des Civilisations noires (MCN), French for the Museum of Black Civilizations, which exhibits the cultures and accomplishments of African civilizations both in and off the continent (including the massive communities in the U.S., Brazil, and the Caribbean).
Located in the capital of Dakar, the museum’s distinct circular structure is itself an homage to African culture, being modeled after the traditional houses of Senegal’s Casamance region.
As Al Jazeera reported, the museum covers a multitude of black and African cultural movements, artistic styles, and historical artifacts:
Its 14,000 square metres of floor space and capacity for 18,000 exhibits puts it in league with the National Museum of African American History in Washington. Its range of exhibits is, however, more far-reaching.
The high-ceilinged exhibition halls include Africa Now, showcasing contemporary African art and The Caravan and the Caravel, which tells the story of the trade in human beings – across the Atlantic and through the Sahara – that gave rise to new communities of Africans in the Americas.
These diaspora communities — such as in Brazil, the United States and the Caribbean — are recognised as African civilisations in their own right here.
“Memory in Motion” by Haitian artist Philippe Dodard describes the stages of enslavement from Africa to the slave ship to the Caribbean plantation with floating eyes, wandering souls and chained hands and feet in black India ink against a white background.
Women of the Nation showcases women of African descent, including Angela Davis.
The scale of the project follows that of the Dakar Art Biennale and the Renaissance Monument, in which successive Senegalese presidents have cemented their legacies with works of culture, Mbow says.
“All of the phases of the inauguration of the museum is done by Africans,” he says.
Smithsonian Magazine provides more details about the exhibits (as of 2018), and notes the museum’s potential for housing artifacts taken during European colonialism, most of which remain in museums or institutions across the West.
Inside the Museum of Black Civilizations, visitors will find ambitious displays spanning both centuries and continents. The exhibition “Cradle of Humankind,” for instance, looks back to human origins in Africa and features early stone tools. “African Civilizations: Continuous Creation of Humanity” delves into the history of masks and “the traditions of Sufism and Christianity in Africa,” according to Brown. Another exhibition hall, “The Caravan and Caravel,” explores how African communities in the Americas grew out of the slave trade. Among the contemporary artworks to appear in the new museum are pieces by the Cuban artist Elio Rodriguez, South Africa’s Andries Botha, and the Haitian artist Philippe Dodard.
The collections, however, are not complete. The MCN has room for some 18,000 artworks, but according to Aaron Ross of Reuters, many of the galleries are not filled.
Now more than ever, it seems possible that the empty space could one day be taken up by African artifacts currently held in European institutions. In late November, French President Emmanuel Macron received a landmark report—written by French art historian Bénédicte Savoy and the Senegalese writer Felwine Sarr—recommending that he move forward with his plan to fully repatriate African artworks taken without consent from their countries of origin during the colonial era. Senegal was one of the first countries to subsequently request the large-scale return of its looted objects.
“We are ready to find solutions with France,” Abdou Latif Coulibaly, Senegal’s culture minister, said, “but if 10,000 pieces are identified in the collections, we are asking for all 10,000.”
This project was the culmination of a decades-long effort begun in 1966 by Senegal’s first president, Leopold Sedar Senghor, a noted poet and cultural theorist who envisioned his newly minted country as a center of black civilization worldwide.
In the following weeks, African luminaries such as Emperor Haile Selassie of Ethiopia and writer Wole Soyinka would converge on the Senegalese capital, as would others from the wider African diaspora: Jazz great Duke Ellington, the Martiniquan poet Aime Cesaire, Barbadian novelist George Lamming and American writers Langston Hughes and Amiri Baraka.
Dakar would briefly play host to some of the leading black movements of the day. African liberation, the Harlem Renaissance, Jazz, and the negritude movement, of which Senghor was also a leading figure, were represented. Despite their differences, they shared an optimism that people of African descent, wherever they were, would define their own futures.
And as that utopian spirit hung in the air, Senghor stepped up to present a bold, new vision for a post-colonial Africa. Art and culture ought to be at the heart of development. And central to this would be a museum in Senegal that would present the past and present experiences of black people everywhere.
Notwithstanding its immense investment in art and culture—which at one point accounted for a quarter of all government spending—Senegal just couldn’t get the project off the ground. China stepped in as the main backer. Only when China stepped in as the main financial backer did Senghor’s dream finally materialize (albeit seventeen years after his death). China’s appetite for Africa’s abundant natural resources is well known and controversial, although the museum says it will operate independently.
Regardless, this is an important step towards giving the world a richer and more holistic view of human civilization, and giving Africans and their descendants the world over an opportunity to learn more about their own subsumed culture. The museum has already helped strengthen calls for France to return looted cultural heritage back to its former colony, which other African countries have echoed.
The Institute of Cytology and Genetic in Novosibirsk, Russia has a statue dedicated to lab mice and the role they have played in a variety of medical research.
The statue was unveiled in 2013 following a fund drive for $50,000, which includes the cost of the surrounding mini park. As sculptor Andrei Kharkevich explains, the statue “combines both the image of a laboratory mouse and a scientist, because they are connected to each other and serve one cause. The mouse is imprinted at the time of scientific discovery.”
Smithsonian Magazine notes another prominent feature of the institute:
“The most notable research to come out of the institute in its 60 years was a long-running study on animal domestication, reported Maggie Koerth-Baker in 2014 for BoingBoing. Researchers in the program, started by Soviet geneticist Dmitry Belyaev, carefully bred more than 40 generations of wild silver foxes, and documented the extensive physical changes the animals experienced as each generation grew increasingly friendly and playful toward humans. The experiment is still ongoing today, and some of the domesticated foxes are sold as sought-after pets to help fund the research. Perhaps a monument to the fox will one day join the knitting mouse.”
Mice have been interacting with humans, often to our mutual detriment, for around 15,000. Yet for decades they have been the go-to animal for studying everything from cancer to disease to treatment to even the effect of space travel (this is due to their simple, fast-growing biology, which is nonetheless still complex enough to be a conveniently close, if not imperfect, analogue to the human body).
While many researchers have raised both ethical and practical questions about using mice for science, virtually everyone agrees on the invaluable role mice played and continue to play in biomedical research.
In addition to being the only institute with a high profile (and adorable) home to the humble lab mouse, the Institute of Cytology and Genetics was established in 1957, only four years after the discovery of DNA in the U.K., making it one of the earliest institutions of its kind.
On this day in 1940, French army officer and future president Charles de Gaulle made his “Appeal of 18 June“, where he urged the French to join his army overseas or continue resisting the Nazis at home.
De Gaulle had just arrived in London after the Fall of France. He had a distinguished war record and had long advocated for France to adopt the sort of tactics and weaponry that, ironically, allowed Germany to prevail. He personally led an armored division during the Battle of France, achieving one of the country’s few victories in the month-long fight.
For his efforts, de Gaulle was quickly promoted to Brigadier General and named Under-Secretary of State for National Defence and War. After the French prime minister resigned, Marshal Philippe Pétain, a hero of World War I, became the new Prime Minister, pledging to surrender to Nazi Germany. De Gaulle staunchly opposed any such action and facing imminent arrest, fled France on June 17th; other leading politicians were arrested before they could leave to North Africa to continue the war.
De Gaulle’s appeal is widely considered to have been the start of the French Resistance, which played a significant role in facilitating the invasion of Normandy, providing intelligence and aide to the Allies (including downed pilots), and sabotaging the German war machine. His speech likely inspired the French sentiment, “France has lost a battle, but France has not lost the war”.
The speech is well worth a read in its entirety:
The leaders who, for many years, have been at the head of the French armies have formed a government. This government, alleging the defeat of our armies, has made contact with the enemy in order to stop the fighting. It is true, we were, we are, overwhelmed by the mechanical, ground and air forces of the enemy. Infinitely more than their number, it is the tanks, the aeroplanes, the tactics of the Germans which are causing us to retreat. It was the tanks, the aeroplanes, the tactics of the Germans that surprised our leaders to the point of bringing them to where they are today.
But has the last word been said? Must hope disappear? Is defeat final? No!
Believe me, I who am speaking to you with full knowledge of the facts, and who tell you that nothing is lost for France. The same means that overcame us can bring us victory one day. For France is not alone! She is not alone! She is not alone! She has a vast Empire behind her. She can align with the British Empire that holds the sea and continues the fight. She can, like England, use without limit the immense industry of the United States.
This war is not limited to the unfortunate territory of our country. This war is not over as a result of the Battle of France. This war is a world war. All the mistakes, all the delays, all the suffering, do not alter the fact that there are, in the world, all the means necessary to crush our enemies one day. Vanquished today by mechanical force, in the future we will be able to overcome by a superior mechanical force. The fate of the world depends on it.
I, General de Gaulle, currently in London, invite the officers and the French soldiers who are located in British territory or who might end up here, with their weapons or without their weapons, I invite the engineers and the specialised workers of the armament industries who are located in British territory or who might end up here, to put themselves in contact with me.
Whatever happens, the flame of the French resistance must not be extinguished and will not be extinguished. Tomorrow, as today, I will speak on the radio from London.
Years ago, she was asked by a student what she considered to be the first sign of civilization in a culture. The student expected Mead to talk about clay pots, tools for hunting, grinding-stones, or religious artifacts.
But no. Mead said that the first evidence of civilization was a 15,000 years old fractured femur found in an archaeological site. A femur is the longest bone in the body, linking hip to knee. In societies without the benefits of modern medicine, it takes about six weeks of rest for a fractured femur to heal. This particular bone had been broken and had healed.
Mead explained that in the animal kingdom, if you break your leg, you die. You cannot run from danger, you cannot drink or hunt for food. Wounded in this way, you are meat for your predators. No creature survives a broken leg long enough for the bone to heal. You are eaten first.
A broken femur that has healed is evidence that another person has taken time to stay with the fallen, has bound up the wound, has carried the person to safety and has tended them through recovery. A healed femur indicates that someone has helped a fellow human, rather than abandoning them to save their own life.
It’s too big too fit here, but below is a little snapshot to give you an idea.
Here are some fun and colorful language infographics that do fit here!
As the name suggests, the massive Indo-European family includes every language from northern India through Iran and nearly all of Europe between Portugal and Russia (with Hungarian, Estonian, and Finnish being notable exceptions).
The language with the most speakers is, probably not surprisingly, English; about 15 percent of humanity can speak!
However, the vast majority of people who speak English learn it as a second language (as you might have noticed with the top infographic). Here are the languages with the most native speakers compared to second language (2L) speakers:
Here’s an interesting breakdown from the source:
Nearly 43% of the world’s population is bilingual, with the ability to switch between two languages with ease.
From the data, second language (L2) speakers can be calculated by looking at the difference between native and total speakers, as a proportion of the total. For example, 66% of English speakers learned it as a second language.
Swahili surprisingly has the highest ratio of L2 speakers to total speakers—although it only has 16 million native speakers, this shoots up to 98 million total speakers. Overall, 82% of Swahili speakers know it as a second language.
Swahili is listed as a national or official language in several African countries: Tanzania, Kenya, Uganda, and the Democratic Republic of Congo. It’s likely that the movement of people from rural areas into big cities in search of better economic opportunities, is what’s boosting the adoption of Swahili as a second language.
Indonesian is another similar example. With a 78% proportion of L2 speakers compared to total speakers, this variation on the Malay language has been used as the lingua franca across the islands for a long time. In contrast, only 17% of Mandarin speakers know it as a second language, perhaps because it is one of the most challenging languages to learn
Tragically, the U.N. has good reason to dedicate a day for the preservation of languages: The 100th most common language is “Sanaani Spoken Arabic”, spoken primarily in Yemen by around 11 million people. Yet there are a total of 7,111 languages still spoken today, meaning the vast majority of them—all but 100—have less than 11 million speakers.
In fact, approximately 3,000 all languages (40 percent) are at risk of being lost, or are already in the process of dying out today. (By one estimate, a language dies every two weeks.) Fortunately, growing awareness and advanced technology are helping to document and preserve these unique aspects of human existence, and all the unique ideas, stories, and concepts they each contain.