Our journey over ‘The Bridge to Nowhere’

On my recent tour of the South of France, just outside the walled city of Avignon, our tour guide pointed to an old stone bridge that extended only halfway across the Rhone River and said, “This bridge was built in the early 1200s. Unfortunately, it was not well designed or constructed, thus was expensive to maintain. Sections kept getting washed away, and they kept rebuilding it. Until they finally decided it wasn’t worth the effort. So they just left it. Now it is known as the famous 'Bridge to Nowhere.'”

I leaned over to the lady next to me on the tour bus and whispered, “That’s the most French thing I’ve ever seen.” We both chuckled. But that was before we learned about the city of Nimes.

Later that same day, on a tour of the magnificent aqueduct Pont du Gard (part of a once 31-mile aqueduct with a total drop of only 56 feet — now THAT is some engineering — Lordy — anyway…), the guide mentioned that the Romans built it to supply their new city of Nimes with water. I had read a bit about the city's history before our trip and asked, “Nimes was a wealthy city, and a long way from Rome. How did the Romans conquer it?”

The guide responded, “The citizens of Nimes were wealthy and comfortable, thus scared of any threats to their pleasant existence. A new disease started spreading across Europe, and they called the Romans for help in protecting them from this threat. The Romans succeeded in protecting them from the disease, but then the people discovered that they were no longer citizens of Nimes, but rather subjects of Rome.”

Just kidding, of course. She didn’t say that. What the guide actually said was, “The citizens of Nimes were wealthy and comfortable, thus scared of any threats to their pleasant existence. Hordes of barbarians started spreading across Europe, stealing whatever they could find, so Nimes called the Romans for help in protecting them from this threat. The Romans succeeded in protecting them from the barbarians, but then the people discovered that they were no longer citizens of Nimes, but rather subjects of Rome.”

Me: “So Nimes invited the Romans to occupy them?”

Guide: “Correct. It made sense at the time. But in retrospect, that’s a decision that perhaps could have been made differently.”

I leaned over and whispered to the same lady as before, “Okay, never mind the bridge. THAT’S the most French thing I’ve ever heard.” We both laughed out loud, and got the same look from our tour guide that I used to get from my 7th-grade teacher. And for the same reason. Perhaps I'll grow up one day. My 7th-grade teacher was not optimistic. Neither was my tour guide.

Anyway, riding back to the hotel on the bus, I couldn’t stop thinking about those two events. A formerly great bridge being abandoned. A formerly great city being invaded with no resistance.

All this hit home a bit hard, because my youngest daughter just graduated from college a week ago. Let me explain.

The commencement ceremony at Georgetown University had an opening prayer and a closing prayer, of course – it’s a Catholic university.

The opening prayer was given by a Jewish Rabbi. The closing prayer was given by a Middle Eastern Muslim imam. Their prayers both sounded more political than theological. Both of them mentioned climate change, immigration, trans-sexual rights, gun control, racism, and Palestinian statehood. The rabbi did not mention God. The imam began and ended his speech with the plaintive singing imams use to call their followers to prayer in the Middle East, and he mentioned God a few times. He didn’t specify which God, but it was clear who he meant, so I kept my “Amen” to myself.

The ceremony’s requisite honorary degree was given to a priest who was an illegal immigrant from San Salvador earlier in life. The speaker who introduced him explained his criminal history like this: “He entered his new home of America as a hard-working migrant who lacked sufficient paperwork to be validated as a true person, thus he lived in the shadows for years.”

Incidentally, I think he was the only priest on stage. Surely I’m wrong about that. But I don’t think so.

Anyway, the former illegal immigrant gave a LONG speech bragging about his accomplishments and criticizing those who seek to hurt poor people by enforcing border laws. He did not mention Georgetown University, the graduates seated in front of him, or the benefits of hard work and discipline. It was all about him and his politics — it was not about the students who were graduating that day after years of study. It was not a commencement address, it sounded like he was running for office.

The graduation stage was packed with deans and professors, with only two white men. Most of the rest were short white women with short hair, oversized blocky eyeglasses, and self-satisfied smirks. All the rest were various minorities.

Interestingly, the short white women were underweight, and the minorities were overweight. The diplomas were actually handed to the graduates by an overweight black woman with a shaved head and enormous gold earrings. She didn't shake their hands. She gave them fist-bumps.

All this is to say that I left depressed. It’s sad to watch a ceremony at a Catholic University which is no longer Catholic and is no longer a university. Which means that the graduation ceremony is no longer a ceremony. A bunch of narcissistic fools gave my brilliant daughter a degree in Computer Science during a political rally. I found that hard to swallow.

So to celebrate her achievement, I take my family to France, to learn about one of the great civilizations in world history. And I get depressed when I learn that it’s no longer great and it’s no longer even a civilization.

The French think that conserving French culture is not worth their time. At least, not if it’s difficult. Like, for example, maintaining their borders and expecting the residents of France to adopt French culture. Who cares? Eh, let’s sit in a café and drink coffee for four hours — that’s preserving French culture too, right?

I’m not being too hard on Georgetown. That would be impossible.

I’m probably being a bit too hard on the French. At least, the French of 2,000 years ago. The citizens of Nimes were in a tough spot, and made a difficult decision. Maybe they did the right thing. It would be much harder to rationalize our recent relinquishment of our liberty due to COVID. At least the barbarians were an obvious threat to everyone.

But all this hit me pretty hard, as I watch the destruction of Western Civilization move beyond a few termites behind the drywall to a raging fire. Western Civilization is no longer western, and it's no longer a civilization.

The scraps will be left to the barbarians. And we can't call the Romans for help, like Nimes did. Because we ARE the Romans. At least, we were the Romans. Just like the Romans used to be Romans.

(I mean this in terms of power, not in terms of imperialist goals, of course).

Things have been eating away at our foundation for years. But the Trump conviction washed away part of our bridge last week. And I suspect we’ve lost interest in repairing it.

We’ve been on the Bridge to Nowhere for some time.

But now, I suspect that we’ve arrived at our destination.

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Hundreds of years from now, tourists will ask their tour guides why the wealthiest, most comfortable people the world has ever seen decided to actively destroy the civilization that had benefitted them so greatly. What could that tour guide possibly say but:

"It made sense at the time. But in retrospect, that’s a decision that perhaps could have been made differently."