Yesterday, scrolling through my feed on Bluesky, I stumbled upon a heartfelt cry from an American woman: « I’m afraid Europeans will never forgive us. »

That sentence chilled me to the bone. It proves that the shame has changed sides. How can we not reach out to an America that feels orphaned from itself?

(An Open Letter to an Unknown Friend on Bluesky)

I wanted to answer her. But through her, I am addressing the tens of thousands of Americans who are proud of their roots but bruised by their present reality.

Milk Powder and Penicillin

My first memory of America goes back to my childhood, living in the shadow of giants. My father, a Resistance fighter, was appointed at age 27 as one of the thirteen Prefects of the Liberation, stationed in Besançon.

It was there that General de Lattre de Tassigny—who would become my godfather—established the HQ of the French First Army. His American counterpart was General Jacob Devers. A fearsome warrior, but also a man of great heart.

In those years, Americans didn’t just bring us liberty or jazz. They brought life itself: penicillin, milk powder, and futuristic items for the child I was, like collapsible cups and chewing gum. That is the America stamped into my DNA.

The America of the Lafayette Escadrille; of Josephine Baker, a hero of the Free French. The America of William Colby, who would become a close friend: a 17-year-old kid who lied about his age to parachute into the Vercors mountains, driven by a simple faith in the triumph of democracy over Nazi barbarism.

Quebec, Pétain, and Honor

At 23, I crossed the Atlantic for the first time on a Super Constellation. Destination: New York, then Quebec, in the full heat of the « Free Quebec » movement. There, I discovered our cousins across the pond, but also the scars of history.

I will never forget July 14, 1969, while working for the press service at the French Consulate in Quebec City. Four individuals raised their glasses to the health of « The Marshal. » As a young Gaullist, I naively thought they meant a Canadian Marshal. When I realized they were toasting Philippe Pétain, the blood rushed to my head, and I kicked them out unceremoniously. It earned me a stormy explanation with my Consul, who, however, had forgotten to invite the survivors of French For Ever, and not to forget the unwavering support of the Consul General, Pierre de Menthon. That is the legacy of the Resistance: you do not compromise with honor, even far from home.

From GIs to « Losers »

Over a lifetime dedicated to defense issues, from the staff headquarters in Berlin to the corridors of Brussels, I have rubbed shoulders with the American elite. I exchanged views with Bill Clinton and worked for years with General « Bob » Richardson, whose father commanded in the Pacific and who, as a young officer, did everything in his power to let the French have the honor of entering liberated Paris first.

How can I not think of my friend Herbert Romerstein, who pioneered the fight against strategic disinformation in the United States, and his team, including Todd Leventhal, who took over? Trump re-elected, that was the first service to be dismantled, at the request of none other than his “friend” Vladimir.

From French television to my cooperation with CNN, my work and conferences have led me to cross the Atlantic more than fifty times. These exchanges forged indestructible bonds. But how bitter it is to think that today, I would probably be turned away at the border for daring to describe the reality of the grotesque braggart currently in charge, a man obsessed with his own miserable self-importance.

That is why the pain is so sharp today. I have hosted your children; mine have stayed in your homes. This brotherhood of arms and spirit is engraved in my memory. Every May 8th and November 11th, when I lay a wreath, I do so alongside a British General, an American Colonel, and an Australian Colonel.

But something broke the day Donald Trump, during his visit to France, refused to visit the American cemetery at Belleau Wood because the rain might mess up his hair, calling our fallen dead « losers. »

The Betrayal of History

Which Frenchman can forget that initial betrayal, when the U.S. Congress refused to ratify the Treaty of Versailles in 1921? That abandonment left us without security guarantees and paved the highway to World War II, in an era when pro-Hitler figures like Henry Ford and Charles Lindbergh were dangerously influential. When we look at Zelensky today, terrified that promises made in Budapest or Washington might vanish, the historical parallel is blinding.

America has always had two faces: the face of Roosevelt handing Europe over to Stalin on the advice of his « mole » Harry Hopkins (fortunately saved by Truman), and the luminous face of the volunteers of 1944. But today, the worst version is in power.

Canadian Fidelity and the European Awakening

I suffer for my American friends when I see the daily, heartbreaking spectacle of pathological narcissism. Trump and his « Appalachian Imbecile »—as our Senator Malhuret so aptly nicknamed JD Vance—have smashed the china of the Alliance. But to that lady on Bluesky, I want to say this: Europe has finally understood General de Gaulle’s prophecy. We will not eat from someone else’s trough forever.

In this awakening, we must never forget our Canadian brothers. They were the first to come to our aid, in 1914 as in 1940, long before America stepped out of its isolationism. That they chose to speak another language matters little: they have remained exemplary brothers-in-arms. Seeing them today, standing shoulder to shoulder with a Europe under attack by Putin’s Russia, is an absolute comfort in the face of Washington’s hesitation.

We will not forget you. Those GIs under the white crosses are our eternal brothers. But tomorrow, we will fight to restore reciprocity. We no longer want to be vassals racketeered by a gang, but partners. If the America of Vance—who sounds to us like a sinister echo of Lindbergh—were to impose itself permanently, we will move forward without you, but with those who remained faithful. Yet, we will always keep a seat at the table for the America of Devers, of Colby, and of Liberty.

Come back to us soon. And… don’t worry, we haven’t forgotten you (Yet)

Joël-François Dumont

See also: « L’Amérique que nous gardons au cœur » — (2025-1229)