Le Dragon Déchaîné

What is the Outre-Mer?

By Yoann Guillot

All images credited to the author unless otherwise stated.

Image credit: digischool.fr

Reader, I seek not to offend, but it is well worth putting on paper that the typical view of the Outre-Mer that exists in the minds of those in the Hexagone is embarrassingly unsophisticated. Indeed, it seems as though the national imagination is chock-a-block with atrociously stereotypical misconceptions. Dear reader, I assure you, when someone only mentions “coconuts, fruits, beaches, beautiful and coloured people” (the highest degree of ignorance) when talking about the Outre-mer, many of us, quite legitimately you will agree, are irritated. Apart from “Les Cocotiers de la République” — a label coined by Canard Enchaîné to qualify (with extreme irony, and some truth) the turpitude of political and economic life in overseas territories – other descriptions are generally quite exaggerated.

Plage de Grand-Anse, Sud de La Réunion

So, nonsense aside, what really is Outre-mer, anyway?

First and foremost, it is important to expose the ideas behind the term “outre-mer”, since its definition is not that evident and should not be taken for granted. As the English term “overseas” suggests, “outre-mer” literally means what is over the sea vis-à-vis the mainland continental part of a country — the European part of France. As history and its implementation of humanistic ideas implies, “outre-mer” is intrinsically related to colonisation and slavery (you are very well encouraged to watch the film “Ni Chaînes, Ni Maitres” by Simon Moutairou, you can see it in French now at the cinema). For a long time, it remained and was employed as a synonym of “colonies” as a euphemism. Two striking examples of that were, firstly, the renaming of the “Musée des Colonies” (museum of colonies) to the “Musée de la France d’outre-mer” (museum of French overseas), and secondly, the replacement of the “ Ministère des Colonies” by the “Ministère des Outre-mer”. This sense remains attached to the term even after the creation of the Fourth Republic that juridically and officially put an end to colonisation. After the decolonisation of Africa, Outre-mer still alluded to departments are territories that are still under the control of France. This same word is used to this day. Even though it is obvious that the history of the term is no longer daily mentioned, it still bears its scars. This has justified the temptation to change the word, with no real success.

Another term deeply linked with Outre-mer is “la Métropole” (the Metropole), which is not spared by some controversies. In opposition to the far territories overseas, the Metropole refers to the “mainland,” the “main territory.” This is not neutral, as the same “mainland” was the one centralising all political, economic and cultural power at the expense of the colonies which were being exploited. Because of the very principle of colonisation, despite overseas territories’ ‘contribution,’ their inhabitants were refused equality, citizenship, and the fruits of true development. This term evidently still has an unequal connotation. That is why the French government has quite recently promoted the term “L’Hexagone” in replacement, with limited results. Why is this word less problematic? Because it suggests that the Hexagone is only the hexagonal part of France among others. France is thus not anymore conceived as a European mainland with anecdotal small and remote islands elsewhere, but an aggregation of continental parts and islands around the world. Yeah! Everyone lives in peace and harmony! Of course, this beautiful discourse, which puts stars in our eyes, is completely idealistic and only theoretical (oops!). We can observe that overseas territories are far from being at the core of the country’s agenda, nor are they oft-mentioned in the hexagonal news, if at least positively and not in an exaggerated manner. What you will most often hear about is the occasional cyclone in La Réunion, hurricanes in Martinique and Guadeloupe, immigration in Mayotte, and chaos in New Caledonia-Kanaky.

This new language and these new names for far-off parts of the country are definitely not erasing the latent inequalities between the Hexagone and overseas territories. The reality of most of these territories includes late development, socio-economic difficulties borne by many, and uncontrolled inflation, most of which are an inheritance from France’s colonial legacy. Some recent improvements have materialised, and this must be acknowledged as well.

Case créole Saint-Denis-de-La-Réunion

So, is it the end of the story? Do we finally know what the Outre-mer is at this point? No! In fact, “Outre-mer” is very lacunar in describing the immense diversity of the territories it is supposed to name. First, the Outre-mer does not have a statutory unity, it is a real mess! For the record, La Réunion and Guadeloupe are a “department and region of Outre-mer”; Mayotte is a “department of Outre-mer”; Guyane and Martinique are “unique territorial collectivities”; Saint-Martin, Saint-Barthélemy, French Polynesia, Wallis-and-Futuna, and Saint-Pierre-et-Miquelon are “collectivities of Outre-mer”; and finally, New Caledonia-Kanaky is a “sui generis collectivity”. “What on earth is that!?” you may exclaim, gracious reader — and with good reason.

To prevent this article from being too boring, I shall only explain that nearly each territory has its own special attributes from limited autonomy, as any other region or department in the Hexagone (La Réunion, Mayotte, Guadeloupe), to a higher degree of autonomy (New Caledonia-Kanaky). These different statuses are actually a result of each territory’s history, and this fact has multiple implications concerning the governance of these territories. For example, without providing too many details, a distinction can be made between the territories that were part of the first colonial empire (From the 17th century) and those of the second colonial empire (from the 19th century). Reunion Island, for instance, belongs to the first case, whereas New Caledonia-Kanaky and French Polynesia belong to the second case. This justifies in part why Reunion Island did not ask for further autonomy, thinking of itself as a constitutive part of France, whilst Polynesia and New Caledonia, for example, are claiming a differentiated identity. Also, to a very limited and approximative extent, we can make a further distinction between territories that were empty before the arrival of France (like La Réunion) and those that were already populated (French Polynesia, New Caledonia-Kanaky and Wallis-and-Futuna). However this rule does not apply to Guadeloupe, Martinique, Mayotte and others who, despite the presence of indigenous peoples before colonisation, do not enjoy a developed autonomy. This is explained, in the two first cases, by the fact that these tribes were massacred with few survivors.

For sure, diving into the history explaining overseas territories current realities is neither a funny nor easy endeavour. And yet, we assert with strength that knowing our roots is the way to move forward.

To give a more positive voice, however, we can let you know that, in spite of the demons of history, overseas territories are striving to turn a new page and write a brighter future. This is the ideal we should all embrace with vigour.

Lagon de l’Hermitage-les-Bains, La Réunion

During this year, the writer of these lines will do his best to present the Outre-mer as completely as possible, to deal sometimes with its hard realities, but also with its limitless diversity and magnificence in all aspects. I invite you to join me on this journey!

As a final word, I find it very valuable to leave the floor to the intellect of Paul Vergès, one of the greatest and most widely recognised artists of Reunion Island, concerning his aspiration for a humanity of solidarity: “C’est cela la Révolution aujourd’hui. Et ce rêve n’est pas l’utopie dans laquelle on s’isole de la réalité. Au contraire, ce rêve nous permet d’aller constamment à l’idéal et d’exiger en même temps de comprendre le réel. Ainsi, ce va-et-vient permanent permettra que l’un soit lié à l’autre, que l’un dépasse constamment l’autre et fasse de chacun de nous un être responsable.” Reader, I hope you have been enticed to pay special attention to this column in issues to come.

Yours &c.,

Yoann

Cabinet Wilders I: An Inward Looking Netherlands?

By Rita Zeefal

Something is brewing in the Hague. The 17th of September marked the beginning of the Dutch parliamentary calendar and, for the first time since the Second World War, a hard-right government assumed the seat of the executive. Geert Wilders, a long-time vindicator of the European populist right, is in prime position to shape the next few years of Dutch interior and foreign policy. Wilders’ Party for Freedom (PVV) controls the key ministries needed to advance its agenda of “putting the Dutch first again” and intends, among other things, to opt out of European Union (EU) asylum treaties and make it harder for non-citizens in the Netherlands to acquire housing, citizenship, and welfare assistance, among other things.

Wilders’ government, headed by the unaffiliated former civil servant Dick Schoof, is already in the process of passing an Emergency Asylum Act that will allow the government to pass asylum laws without the approval of parliament. While some of these moves might just be pure politicking, there is real unease about what the incoming Dutch government might mean for business, relations with Brussels, and rule of law in the country.

The far right in the Netherlands has never been as successful as it has over the past fifteen years. Much of this can be attributed to Geert Wilders’ political credibility: unlike the leaders of previous far right and fascist parties in the Netherlands (like Hans Janmaat of the now defunct Dutch Centre Party), Wilders has been a career politician for the greater part of thirty years. A self-described “right-wing liberal,” Wilders cut his teeth in the centre-right People’s Party for Freedom and Democracy (VVD), and was at one point tipped to become its leader before losing out to Mark Rutte in the mid 2000s. Unlike right-wing populists in Poland or Italy, Wilders is sufficiently supportive of LGBTQ+ and reproductive rights, which he sees as being at the heart of Dutch tolerance culture. Unlike Marine Le Pen’s Rassemblement National or Austria’s Freedom Party, Wilders and his party have no Nazi history to shirk or political credibility to prove – they simply had to wait for the right moment to be embraced by a disaffected electorate. And such a moment came in the form of the November 2023 general election in the Netherlands, which was preceded by the VVD’s Dilan Yesilgöz’s removing a longstanding cordon sanitaire that had been levelled against the PVV for the greater part of the 2010s. Yesilgöz stated plainly before the election that her party would be open to forming a government with Wilders’ PVV.

The PVV seems to be a party that seeks to turn the Netherlands in on itself. Its 2023 election manifesto blames the country’s longstanding housing crisis on asylum seekers, who constitute the vast minority of people who migrate to the Netherlands annually. Unlike the far right in countries like France and Italy who tend to clean up their image and mollify their message the closer they get to power, the PVV has stood firmly behind some of its most hard-line policies in recent times. The party’s prior-mentioned election manifesto advocated for the development of “denaturalisation” processes so as to make possible the deportation of recently naturalised citizens deemed “undesirable.” The new government seeks to make Dutch the primary language of higher education in the Netherlands to ward off international students. The repercussions of such political positions and the policies that they would help create over the next few years could resound sharply in the worlds of commerce, academia, and labour for years to come.

Indeed, policies that are set to hinder international flows of human capital are already ruffling the feathers of those at the helm of the Netherlands’ most valuable companies. In March of this year, the outgoing Minister of Economic Affairs Micky Adriaansens met with former CEO of ASML Peter Wennink to address the company’s plans to move its operations out of the Netherlands should migratory regulations in the country become too strict. ASML is Europe’s most valuable tech company, and it currently has a workforce of over 40 000 employees comprising over 143 nationalities. Being home to cutting edge firms and having a vibrant economy are realities that every country aims to maintain; however, the rise of the populist right in the Netherlands has put the country’s government between a rock and a hard place. De-internationalising the Netherlands and making it harder for workers from the rest of the world to gain access to living requirements could pose a dire threat to the friendly business environment the country has prided itself on for so long.

A brief look at history shows that the Netherlands’ openness to the outside world has been a cornerstone of its success for centuries. According to scholars like the University of Amsterdam’s Geert Janssen, the United Provinces, which later became the Dutch Republic, became a magnet for the religiously persecuted of Europe in the wake of the Reformation and the Spanish Inquisition. Sephardic and Ashkenazi Jews, Flemish Protestants, English Puritans, and French Huguenots migrated in the hundreds of thousands, to such an extent that over the course of the 17th century, 40 to 60 percent of the population of major Dutch cities like Amsterdam and Leiden was made up of foreign-born inhabitants. In more recent times, the Netherlands has been at the forefront of European integration and still engages with the world beyond its metropolitan shores. It was a founding member of the European Coal and Steel Community and is bound by international law. It still administers overseas territories. The Netherlands has, for the greater part of its history, never been a country to shut itself off from the world.

The populist right in the country positions itself as the chief protector of core Dutch values and traditions like social liberalism and Zwarte Piet (a Dutch Christmas blackface tradition), from the supposed evils of Islam and woke-brainwashing. But are not the rule of law, international collaboration, compromise, and pragmatism just as, if not more, central to the country’s identity and success over the centuries?

The new Dutch government’s ability to execute its mandate remains to be proved. For now, politicking seems to be at the top of the ministerial agenda. On the 18th of September, Marjolein Faber, the Netherlands’ Minister for Asylum and Migration, informed the European Commission of her government’s wish to opt out of the EU’s new Migration and Asylum pact, to which the Netherlands is already a signatory. What might not be readily apparent to the casual reader of this story is that this was a move with almost no chance of initiating real change in the Netherlands’ relationship with Brussels. The clumsily written letter itself acknowledges that an opt out for the Netherlands would only be possible in the event of treaty amendment, and amendment of EU treaties after they have been approved and have come into effect happens exceedingly rarely, if at all. Furthermore, Faber ought to have sent the letter to the Council of the European UnionEuropean Council – not the European Commission. This proves to be the first in a series of gaffes that seem on course to typify the far-right’s first stab at governing the Netherlands.

On the whole, the rise of the populist right in the Netherlands serves as another theatre of shallow politicking addressed to a weary electorate. But if the country wants to retain its status as a magnet for talent, a hub of innovation, and a place where business thrives, it might have to come up with solutions that go beyond what Wilders and his ministers are putting on the table.

A Time Capsule From Integration Week

The good, the bad, and the busy from your fellow SciencesPistes.

By Syontoni Hattori-Chatterjee

Remember integration week? Do the performances and parties feel a million miles away amidst the trenches of midterms season? Here’s a reminder of times past when Le Havre weather was warm and Sciences Po life had the promise of fun.

Sweet Memories

SPE and LH Sessions’ Beach Concert and Stargazing. Photo credit: Thomas Funkleder.

Nara, 1A: “Integration week was super fun! All of the assos, along with SciencesPo made everything accessible to everyone and there were tons of activities to choose to attend. For most of the 1As it’s our first time being away from home, so I appreciate the support system our 2As and admin made available for us to help us settle down and integrate. By Saturday, the day of Appartathon, I think everyone warmed up to each other and experienced lots of “core memory” things. I’m positive everyone was able to find their people and feel comfortable being here thanks to integration week.”

BDA and LH Sessions Jam Session and Bar Night. Photo credit: Julos Dartiguenave.

Yu Xuan, 2A Year Rep: “Integration week was such a blur for me and I felt like the week passed by in a flash! I absolutely loved the vibe of the campus though, everyone was so kind, lovely, and so open to discovering new cultures during the club & cultural fair! Always so fun for me to see new faces and meet y’all cutiepies! <333”

Hard Work Behind the Scenes

Club Fair. Photo credit: Thomas Funkleder.

Humshinee, 2A and Street Dance Co-Captain and Musical Logistics Captain:

“As a club leader, thinking about integration week is the best part of the summer. As the Street Dance Captains, Morgane and I started talking in Early August about ideas and it was amazing but difficult to create new choreography. We had a video call at 10 pm Morgane’s time and 4 pm my time during which we made new choreography in 30 minutes and then at 3 am my time and 9 am Morgane’s time to finish it. The crew learned it in 2 hours and then performed it the next day.

As 2As, we were just so excited to be able to showcase to 1As, and let it be on the record that I was sick during the Club Fair, but through sickness and jetlag we all powered through. For the Musical Club, we were rehearsing starting at 9 am the day before the Club Fair. Laura landed at 8 am, then came into Le Havre at 3 pm, ate lunch and showered, and came to rehearse at 4 pm. I had so much anxiety seeing if we could pull everything together and Tuesday was running in between clubs and performances, from Shatta to Musical to Cheer. But overall, showcasing our clubs was so worth it.

On Monday, meeting everyone at the beach and singing was super fun. Big ups to LH Sessions for reaching out over the summer and seeing what people were willing to do. On Thursday, it was so fun coming back to Craft a year later. I remembered seeing our now 3As perform last year so it was cool being on the other side of it.

As a whole, as a Club Captain and Performer, my main goal and takeaway from integration week was to have fun and showcase what LH is all about and the relationships that we’ve built over the past year and will continue to build this year.”

Club Fair. Photo credit: Thomas Funkleder.

Sara, 2A and President of PROPA:

“Je dirais que c’était beaucoup de stress, énormément de stress, en fait c’était vraiment une pression que je me mettais et que je pense tous les autres membres des associations se mettaient parce qu’on veut donner aux 1A une semaine d’intégration et WEI incroyable pour qu’ils se fassent des souvenirs incroyables comme nous on a pu se faire des souvenirs aussi incroyables l’année dernière.

C’était beaucoup de pression, voir même certains mental breakdowns mais au final, quand on voit les réactions des 1A qui viennent directement nous voir et nous remercier pour ce qu’on fait et nous dire qu’ils ont adoré que ce soit la semaine d’intégration ou le WEI et juste quand on les voit et qu’ils s’amusent, franchement ça en vaut la peine.

Mais honnêtement ça me fait vraiment plaisir de voir qu’ils adorent parce que franchement moi je me rappelle que l’année dernière ma semaine d’intégration et mon WEI j’avais adoré, encore maintenant on en parle avec mes amis donc j’avais envie qu’ils aient exactement les mêmes émotions et les mêmes souvenirs que moi j’ai pu avoir l’année dernière en tant que 1A.”

Translation:

“I’d say that it was a lot of stress, an insane amount of stress, but really it was pressure that I was putting on myself and that I think all of the other association members were putting on themselves because we want to give 1As an incredible integration week and WEI so that they could make incredible memories just as we did last year.

It was a lot of pressure, even some mental breakdowns but in the end, when we see the reactions of 1As who come directly to see us and to thank us for what we’re doing and to tell us that they loved integration week or WEI and even just when we see them and they’re enjoying themselves, honestly it’s worth it.

And honestly it makes me really happy to see that they loved it because truly I remember last year that I adored my integration week and WEI, even now I talk about it with my friends, so I wanted them to have the exact same feelings and memories that I got to have last year as a 1A.”

Some of the Best Sciences Po Traditions

PROPA Appartathon. Photo credit: Fatine Mohattane.

Alex, 1A: “So I thought integration week was very entertaining since lots of different associations held various events. Almost every single one of them were fun and it was a great chance to [get to] know new people, both 1As and 2As. WEI, on the other hand, was also very fun and I could see that BDE and PROPA had put a great effort into it. The events were entertaining but the best part was definitely the 2 party nights! To be honest I think this tradition must be kept forever in SciencesPo.”

WEI. Photo credit: Enxin (Rosie) Han.

Rosie, 1A: “This was my first exposure to one of the best freshman traditions of SciencesPo – a very happy first weekend. I really enjoyed playing games with my classmates, making marshmallows, swimming, dancing, singing…etc. And I‘ve also met many people who are super interesting. We walked on the lawn together and looked up at a sky thick with stars like ice crystals, flashing and flickering, with beer… this atmosphere, it’s super super nice. I thought I will always miss my 18-year-old WEI trip, en France.”

BDA MuMA Visit. Photo credit: Thomas Funkleder.

HD and BDA Cultural Fair. Photo credit: Syontoni Hattori-Chatterjee.

Been There, Done That

Anya, 2A: “As a 2A it made me very grateful for the friends I had because I saw all of the 1As in the process of making friends and it reminded me of the good friends I have.”

Diva, 2A and somebody anonymously agreeing: “Glad I’m not a 1A. I have never been so fake as my first year integration week.”

The Most Mature and Reflective Tea You’ll Ever Read

WEI. Photo credit: Nicky Punnnahitanon.

Nikki, 1A: “Before going to WEI my friends and I asked many seniors about what exciting things we could look forward to, and many of them hinted to us that we could expect the wildest things happening like couples sprouting up everywhere, condoms littered all over the place, many people getting wasted. I think many of us were excited to see such spicy stories unravel — at least I was hahaha. (Un)fortunately, I didn’t hear of anything scandalous at all, but certainly I found something way more exciting: countless platonic relationships that quickly blossomed and strengthened, from jumping into the pool together to the screaming our lungs out at parties, from playing truth or dare on the floor of our chalets to boulangerie-hopping in centre-ville together in the rain. I know that in the next two years, whenever I get a headache from PI or feel lost along the Silk Road, I’ll definitely think back to these memories and feel this snuggly warmth in my heart.

Also, I love that the BDE provided condoms – even though I felt like almost nobody ended up using them for the right purpose hahaha (my friends and I were dissecting a female condom in our own room, fascinated to be seeing it for the first time!!) This is very new for me, something I’d never expect to see back in Singapore where I went to high school because there, abstinence is still very much at the forefront of our sex education (possibly in Thailand where I originally grew up).

Initially I was shocked – likely shaped by the environment I’d grown up in, I instinctively wondered whether this would encourage potentially risky sexual interactions, but very quickly my friends and I started having discussions about it and I was amazed to discover just how open minded people around me are towards this initiative. I realized that the condoms helped normalize safe sex and conversations about it, and as we grow up, we together can do so much in spreading this open minded attitude in our workplace and the policies we’ll help push for in society!

Another highlight of WEI for me is the food – omg it was just so ✨incroyable✨ with the charcuterie buffet and biscoff panna cotta being on top of the list for me. Simply unforgettable. Changed my life.”

I hope this recap makes you think fondly of your integration week experience at Sciences Po, the first for our dear 1As and the last for us 2As soon to be spread around the world. Now get back to studying SciencesPistes, I’m sure you have work to do.

Burmese history during the Mediaeval Period: Bagan

By Beau Sansoni

All images credited to the author.

Burmese history is long and storied, but is generally quite overshadowed by its modern politics. The people of these lands find themselves in one of the world’s most oppressive dictatorships, or under one of the many rebel militaries, with each fighting one another for dominance of either their region or the whole country. The war, however, should not discourage learning and intrigue into the past of Burma. Prior to the modern wars , military juntas, and British colonisation, there were a myriad of kingdoms and peoples that inhabited these valleys. This article will be a history of the Burmese Kingdom of Bagan from my own knowledge, and using photographs I took during my recent trip to the country. Should you wish to know more about broader Burmese history, I highly recommend Thant Myint-U’s books on the subject, particularly The River of Lost Footsteps. Another option is the Youtube channel Fall of Civilizations, and their episode on Bagan, which is more digestible at 2 hours in length.

↑ Above: The Ananda Temple, photographed from the South-East.

To begin, the Irrawaddy river valley, the core of Burmese society as we perceive it today, was initially inhabited by a range of culturally similar, brick walled city states. Taking root during the period of Late Antiquity, they were dominated by the Pyu peoples, who adapted their Sino-Tibetan language to a Brahmic script, and adopted various forms of Buddhism and Hinduism.

However, at the beginning of the Western Mediaeval period, the Pyu City States had found themselves in decline. War with the Kingdom of Nanzhao brought alongside them the first Burmese, who migrated into the Irrawaddy river valley. Here, a short ways downstream from the confluence of the Chindwin and upper Irrawaddy, perhaps on the ruins of an old Pyu city, they founded the city of Bagan.

The city would, for a time, be among the many Pyu cities of the region, with its focus on Buddhist architecture in a style reminiscent of the Pyu (For examples, see: Bupaya, and Ngakywenadaung Pagoda). As Bagan began rapidly expanding, and enveloping its neighbouring states, the styles in architecture, along with the society of Bagan as a whole, would change dramatically in the 11th century. The most important of these annexations was the semi-legendary war with the Mon Kingdom of Thaton, a kingdom to the south which relied heavily on trade. Burmese legends attesting to the conquest of Thaton are of various sources, many of which are more modern, such as the Glass Palace Chronicles of the 18th century. The traditional story goes that King Anawrahta of Bagan demanded that Thaton hand over their Buddhist texts in order for King Anawrahta to convert Bagan from Ari Buddhism, to Theravada Buddhism. Thaton refused, and Anawrahta mustered an army and conquered the southern emporium. What remains certain is that Bagan expanded far into the south, with Bagan-style inscriptions found farther south than Thaton.

Starting with King Anawrahta, the royal lineage would spawn a series of Temple Building kings, which would span from the 11th to 13th centuries. Anawrahta’s successor; Kyansittha, would build the first, and most popular of the great temples of Bagan: the Ananda Temple (See top image above). This temple would continue its position as one of the most revered temples in Burma, and would receive continual upkeep by future Burmese dynasties. Its style, along with the Burmese court of the era, was inspired by Mon styles which were imported along with the artisans who initially created it. It was only until King Alaungsithu, Kyansittha’s grandson, that a Burmese style would emerge, and its language supersede Pyu and Mon in usage.

As history unfolded, the empire continued its growth, attracting more merchants and workers to continue in the construction of further temples. The average resident, in their effort at piety, would commission workers and artisans, who would build a temple (or multiple) of brick and cover it with a layer of render, possibly with objects of religious significance, like votive tablets. They would also purchase slaves for the upkeep of the property, ensuring that they would have their religious efforts remain even as they departed for the next life. It would be these numerous temples, numbering into their thousands, if not tens of thousands at the empire’s height, which would be its slow demise. Many have analysed that the land usage of the core around Bagan left little for farmlands, housing, or workplaces, instead replaced by lands which produced no tangible value (in their lifetime, prior to death, at least) and were not taxable as it was managed by the Buddhist clergy. This lack of taxable lands meant that the royal administration found it difficult to raise money, and led to the empire slowly impoverishing itself. The temples which originally led to the growth of the empire through attracting artisans and traders, were also slowly killing it.

↑ Above: The Htilominlo Temple, the Upali Thein and various stupa; both ancient and modern. Photographed from the North-West of the Htilominlo Temple.

This effect came to effect firstly under King Htilominlo, in the early 13th century, who would be the last of the great temple builder kings. His work, the Htilominlo Temple (pictured above), would continue its legacy for many years to come, as it has legendary significance as it was raised to commemorate where Htilominlo would be chosen to succeed his father. The way he was chosen (via a tilting umbrella, which would point to the successor) would reflect to the temple its name, which can be interpreted as ‘the umbrella (hti) chooses the king (min)’. It would also be the site that General Min Aung Hlaing would raise a new Hti (the decorative top on many Burmese temples) prior to the coup he led in 2021, a potential gesture of piety in his efforts to become the ruler of the country.

The empire of Bagan would receive the final nail to its coffin in the 1270s-80s, being invaded by the Mongols under the Yuan dynasty. As attested by Marco Polo, the Mongols would rout the Burmese military, led by the King Narathihapate and reinforced by elephants. The Great Khan would annex the entirety of Burmese territory (although in effect only controlled the north), and would establish the son of the King of Bagan to act as a puppet ruler within Bagan. Atypically, Marco Polo attests that the Great Khan did not sack the city of Bagan (called by Polo as “Mien”) due to the sheer number of temples which were raised for kings of old, as the Mongols found it a sin to (the) “removal of any article appertaining to the dead”. A state under the previous senior generals of Bagan’s army would eventually remove the Mongols from Burma, but by then the damage had been done, and Bagan would not rise as the capital of a new Burmese kingdom. Instead the lineage of the Kings of Bagan and the generals would go on to found multiple small states in the wake of the fallen empire, reentering the south-east Asian political theatre with their newly independent neighbours, from the borderlands to the core.

Why Charlie Chaplin’s 1940 Anti-Fascist Film May Be More Relevant Than Ever

By Tyler Jaewon Kim

Chaplin in The Great Dictator. Photo credit: Public Domain.

In partnership with Le Havrealisation.

The modern film landscape is, sometimes unfairly, oft-maligned as being increasingly political. Simply put, a common criticism of movies today is that they are “too woke.” Be it the two largest Hollywood blockbuster films of last summer – “Barbie” and “Oppenheimer” – or other contemporary international films such as “Parasite” (2020), many critically acclaimed films of the last decade have had this low-hanging criticism levied against them.

But this is simply not true. Art is inherently political, and film is an artistic medium. Films have, from the very beginning, been used as the conduit through which directors can convey their personal political messages. Nowhere can this be seen more than in Charlie Chaplin’s 1940 film “The Great Dictator.”

Chaplin’s first full talkie (sound film) tells the story of two men at opposite ends of the fictional European nation of Tomainia: its fascist dictator Adenoid Hynkel (a less-than subtle stand-in for Adolf Hitler) and a lowly unnamed Jewish barber readapting to life after World War I in the ghetto. The catch? Both men are played by Chaplin and thus look exactly the same.

Chaplin’s combination of wry humor with social commentary extends beyond the simple premise of the movie. Chaplin, whose name is synonymous with the golden age of silent-era comedies, frequently lampoons the follies of totalitarianism with his signature slapstick comedy.

Hynkel’s runtime is filled with farcical acts such as having an extended “ballet” sequence with an inflated globe or by getting in a food fight with Benzino Napaloni of Bacteria (a parody of Benito Mussolini). On the other hand, the Jewish barber’s continuous optimism and perseverance in the face of extreme adversity serves as the crux of the film’s emotional center. His friendships and relationships develop (albeit sometimes a bit too slowly) over the two hour runtime and culminate in one of the most rousing monologues in film history.

It is important, however, to remember the context in which this film was made. Writing began shortly after Hitler had recently received the Time Person of the Year award, prior to the German invasion of Poland and before the full extent of Nazi Germany’s crimes throughout the Holocaust was generally known (Chaplin himself later stated that the film would not have been made had he known).

Ultimately, “The Great Dictator” has aged surprisingly well in an era where its fundamentally anti-fascist message is, unfortunately, much-needed. Though it may poke fun at one of the darkest moments of human history, Chaplin’s appeal for humanity shines through and enshrines the final product as a testament to the power of film as both an artistic and political tool.