This video is available on Rumble, Bitchute, Odysee, Telegram, and X.
Last Wednesday, the French police broke up a talk I was about to give. I had just been introduced, when two officers marched in and said this meeting was over. An officer asked for ID and I signed a copy of the decree banning the meeting.
I waved him goodbye, and no one was arrested. This crude censorship was especially surprising because the day before, I spent three hours at an identitarian bookstore, signing copies of the French translation of If We Do Nothing.
I don’t know of a single American bookstore that stocks my books, but in Paris, I found two. And I don’t think you could publicly advertise a Jared Taylor book-signing in an American city and have no trouble at all.
That made what the police did so surprising.
The official decree breaking up the meeting runs to three pages, and reads like something out of 1984.
Click here to enlarge.
What it boils down to is that the police have the right to muzzle anyone who might — just might — provoke an “immaterial disturbance” of the public order.
“Material” disturbances are riots, violence, arson. Thanks to its glorious diversity, France gets plenty of those.
“Immaterial” disturbances are words that, to quote from the decree, “undermine national cohesion” or violate “the republican tradition.” No act necessary. And in my case, no words necessary because the authorities had already decided that if I opened my mouth, there was “a serious risk that racist remarks” would be made. They stepped in because of “the sufficiently certain and imminent nature of the commission of such offences as well as the nature and seriousness of the disturbances to public order that could result from them.”
Why did the police think I would say something illegal? Someone had looked me up. I have talked about “the differences by nature between ethnic groups.” In 1999, I published a report called the The Color of Crime, in which I am said to have claimed that “90% of inter-racial offenses . . . are committed by black people against white people.”
I actually wrote that of the “interracial crimes of violence involving blacks and whites, 90 percent are committed by blacks against whites.” The French didn’t consider whether that was true — FBI stats confirm it. Just saying it appears to be a crime.
I am also an “adherent of the theories of the ideologue Renaud Camus, promoter of the idea of the ‘Great Replacement’.”
I guess that’s another crime. And I am guilty of having posted on X that “there are average race differences in intelligence. Most people are too cowardly to say so in public.”
I’m guessing what most upset the French was a comment I made about a video of blacks stealing shrink-wrapped tray packs of bottled water that were set out for runners in the London marathon. The video is now disabled, but I suggested a word for this kind of behavior: “NEGRITUDE: degeneracy almost impossible to imagine in others.”
“Negritude” is a real French word. In the 1930s and ’40s, French-speaking Africans tried to take a mildly pejorative word, nègre, and make it positive, the way homosexuals turned “queer” into a badge of honor.
In 1962, the Nigerian playwright Wole Soyinka mocked “negritude.” “A tiger doesn’t proclaim his ‘tigritude.’ He pounces.”
Geraldo Magela/Agência Senado, CC BY 2.0, via Wikimedia Commons
Anyway, given my record of what the decree called “excesses and provocations” on X, I had to be gagged so I wouldn’t “undermine national cohesion,” violate “the republican tradition,” and provoke “immaterial” disturbances of the public order. The decree cited no fewer than eight specific French laws to justify muzzling me – all the way back to The Declaration of the Rights of Man and of the Citizen issued during the French Revolution.
The decree conceded that freedom of speech is very nice, but mine had to be violated for “the preservation of an objective system of values that cements social harmony.”
It would have been fun to invite the police officer to take a seat, and step in only if I were guilty of an excess or a provocation, but the republic was taking no chances. The French magazine Elements has since published my speech, and the editors have not been charged with disturbing the public order.
The whole thing has been a pathetic admission of government weakness. If the République were sure of its convictions, it would welcome debate. Clearly, it’s afraid of words, and silence them in the name of “public order,” “national cohesion” and “the republican tradition.” Tyrants always clothe tyranny in high-sounding words.
But how did the police know about the meeting? The group that invited me, Les Natifs, or “The Natives,” circulated a social-media ad, announcing that the Paris location would be revealed just before the 8:00 p.m. meeting.
However, in the afternoon, even before the location was announced, the police tracked down the leader of the Les Natifs in a Paris café and served him with a decree, forbidding the meeting in Paris. He quickly found another room in Versailles, in the neighboring department of Yvelines. The Yvelines police then found us and told us the meeting was forbidden in that department.
The next day, I had lunch with the head of Les Natifs and asked if there could have been a leak about the locations. He said no. His organization demonstrates against such things as anti-white crime—here is one in Paris in 2023—and the media call Les Natifs not just “extreme right” but “ultra-right.”
He said that he and some of the other Natifs are “known to the police,” and are probably tracked by cell phone. He thought that was how police found him in the Paris café and learned so quickly about the new location in Versailles. He just hadn’t expected the police to care enough to squelch a peaceful meeting.
I’m used to yahoos trying to shut me up. But this was the first time a man with a badge and a gun did it. In the US, I don’t think the cops are tracking our every move. Not yet, anyway. Orthodoxies lash out viciously as they die, and the orthodoxy of dispossession is dying. Every brutish act by a government makes it look more desperate, more afraid. I’m embarrassed for France, a country I like very much, but I see this as one more step on the road to victory.
The post Why France Muzzled Me appeared first on American Renaissance.
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