Charles and Anne
Seventy years ago today, on June 18, 1940, Charles de Gaulle delivered the speech that inspired the Free French to stand firm against the Nazis.
"L’Appel du 18 Juin” was a triumph of condensed oratory, a call to resist the Nazi invaders and join him on British soil to fight on, a sonorous declaration of hope and confidence.
A hero to his people, De Gaulle was, by most accounts, an impossible man.
Dean Rusk, the US Secretary of State, compared meetings with him with “crawling up a mountainside on your knees, opening a little portal at the top and waiting for the oracle to speak . . . There was never any give and take.”
British Prime Minister Harold Macmillan told President Kennedy [that de Gaulle] was “absolutely crazy” and the Foreign Office depicted him as “an almost impossible ally.”
But what Rusk, MacMillan, and Kennedy may not have known was that de Gaulle had a daughter with Down syndrome. There are few things more humbling than having a child with special needs. My daughter has Down syndrome. It is true, she is a blessed gift. She hugs longer and harder than my other children. She is constantly congested, and this limits her in many ways, but when she is clear, her smile is luminescent.
So the headline in this week’s Times of London was particularly apt: “The Little Girl who Conquered de Gaulle.” Conquered. That struck me as about right. This particular journey requires submission; parenting is hard enough, but when it doesn’t follow any of the “normal” rules and rhythms, it is infinitely harder.
“Papa” was the only word Anne de Gaulle could say clearly. Although it was customary in those days to institutionalize people like Anne, her parents refused. Just before WWII broke out, de Gaulle was stationed at Metz, France. In the evenings, he demanded that the gates to the garden in town be closed so he could walk with his daughter free from the looks of others. He also ordered a car to drive him 85 miles back to his home each night, “where he rocked her gently in his arms till he had to leave at dawn to return to his post.”
Anne only lived to be 20 years old. She died in her father’s arms.
I’m sure that Charles de Gaulle, like all parents of children with special needs, battled against the daily, sometimes hourly, reminders that his child was different. I wonder how this affected his work, his public persona, his leadership. Would he have been able to do for France all that he did without the experience of being Anne’s father? Would he have made a different impression on Rusk and MacMillan?
In 1940, de Gaulle said of Anne:
For a father, believe me, it is a very great trial. But for me, this child is also a blessing, she is my joy, she has helped me to rise above all setbacks and all honours, and always to aim higher.
At Anne’s funeral in 1948, de Gaulle turned to his wife and said, “She’s like others now.”
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Comments :
Re: Charles and Anne
Absolutely beautiful, Ursula. What comes through in that Times piece is the joy that DeGaulle's child pulled into this world. What comes across is how De Gaulle, like so many families with special needs children, always understood his little girl as a great gift and blessing rather than a burden. Amazing how those deemed imperfect somehow have the ability to make the rest of us more fully human.
May '10
Re: Charles and Anne
"Deemed" is the operative word, of course, since we're all imperfect. And our salient imperfections are typically more serious than those apparent with Down Syndrome.
A fitting note, Ursula, going into this Father's Day weekend.
May '10
Re: Charles and Anne
Thank you Ursula.There is nothing else to say but I feel obliged to say that.
May '10
Re: Charles and Anne
Beautiful. So beautiful.
May '10
Re: Charles and Anne
Agreed. Thanks.
Re: Charles and Anne
Very moving and beautifully expressed, Ursula. My own feeling as to whether de Gaulle could have done all he did for France absent his experience with his daughter is, no he couldn't. Our experiences help shape our actions. Isn't it interesting though, that when we reach out to help other people, to our surprise they often end up helping us?
Re: Charles and Anne
Just wonderful. Dear Lord, Ursula, we're not paying you enough. I was especially astonished by the quote:
The idea of rising above "all honors" is almost knightly. That no high point in life was higher, to him, than fatherhood. De Gaulle was a pain in the neck, or worse, for us. But he was without a doubt the devoted father, too, of modern France.
Jun '10
Re: Charles and Anne
Ursulla: Two thoughts: First, De Gaulle was brilliant and obstinate, but that's small beer compared to the love of a child. And in the end, the family relationships are the one's that matter most.
Second, I have a dear friend, Mike, who has Down syndrome who is now in his late-thirties. He loves to bowl and my children, all now grown, take him bowling fairly regularly (I even go too). The recurrent theme after each bowling venture goes something like this: it's impossible to feel bad about much of anything when you get to spend some time with Mike. He emanates goodness and love.
Jun '10
Re: Charles and Anne
Wonderful post, Ursula. I wrote a lengthy response, but accidentally deleted it, and I'm too emotionally drained to re-write it. Just let me say, God bless you and your child. This year is the 10th anniversary of a picnic my family sponsors in honor of my Mother. Every developmentally challenged child and their supporters in the county developmental support organization are invited. We have a great time. The joy is shared by all, but especially those with Downs. The love, happiness, and innocence these kids (even though many are adults) express is absolutely uplifting.
...and Charles de Gaulle, how many of us would have known? The powerful and influential are really only "small people" writ large by circumstance.