- Obama downplays IRS scandal, blames Obamacare rollout on ‘outdated’ agencies
- Pregnancies decline overall, up among older women
- Pentagon plans to destroy Syrian chemical arms on ship at sea
- Paris Metro issues ‘politeness manual’ to improve passengers’ behavior
- Justin Bieber, crew detained at Australian airport in drug search
- Lee Rigby trial: Muslim who machete-hacked soldier calls it ‘humane’ kill
- GM ending Chevy sales in Europe to focus on Opel and Vauxhall
- Putin’s diplomats to U.S. busted for living high life off $1.5M bilked from Medicaid
- Happy Meal: Couple goes to McDonald’s, leaves with bag packed with cash
- Boehner: It took me 3 to 4 hours to sign up for Obamacare
Independent voices from the The Washington Times Communities
Topic - Charles De Gaulle
Unusual campus names are a venerable college tradition — think Harvard's Wigglesworth Hall or USC's Argue Plaza — but nothing quite compares to those under review at the University of Colorado Boulder, where a commission has recommended renaming renovated dormitories "Houusoo Hall" and "Nowoo3 Hall" after two Arapaho Indian chiefs.
The current comedy of errors going on in the White House harkens back to the day when that supreme French narcissist, Charles de Gaulle, tried to tell British Prime Minister Winston Churchill and U.S. President Franklin D. Roosevelt how to deal with Germany ("Syria attack: High-stakes decisions on Capitol Hill are yes, no and maybe," Web, Sept. 8). Fortunately, we did not heed de Gaulle and his European mindset. If we had, we would likely still be trying to fight our way off Omaha Beach.
Bed and board abound along the fertile fields and in historic French towns and villages, ancient castles and abbeys of Burgundy and Champagne. The food is outstanding. Snails, foie gras, cheese and beef are the regional specialties. Gougeres, little cheese puffs, are traditional accompaniment to terrific aperitif wines and champagne. You can't go wrong anywhere, but here are a few suggestions for wining, dining and spending the night.
The Food and Drug Administration is getting sharp about a certain cheese. The agency is upset that fearless cheeseheads are nibbling a fancy French import known as Mimolette. The food nannies are determined to stop them.
In the course of our conversation, Richard Nixon singled out the then-relatively obscure ruler of a tiny city-state: Singapore's Lee Kuan Yew. Heaven only knows, Nixon reflected, what massive accomplishments Lee might have managed if he had led a major power.
For all those readers who can't get enough of the Mitford clan, with their pet names and jokes, shrieks of laughter and shafts of barbed wit, here's yet more fodder. Readers of Nancy Mitford's books know about her Francophile tastes and her heroines' bliss -- a favorite Mitford word -- in the discovery of an aristocratic French lover.
The French people sloughed off years of national shame in one glorious summer month in 1944 when, with only minimal assistance from Allied armies, they evicted German troops from Paris. Albert Camus, writing in the clandestine newspaper Combat, spoke of Paris returning to its historic role of purging tyranny with the "blood of free men."
Today, I am ashamed to be an American journalist.
Perhaps the best verdict passed on Charles de Gaulle was one he penned himself in 1934, long before he achieved international fame. "Every man of action has a strong dose of egotism, pride, hardness, and cunning," he wrote. But he quickly added, "all those things will be forgiven him, indeed, they will be regarded as high qualities, if he can make of them the means to achieve great ends." Charles de Gaulle could and did.
Neck and neck in the polls just one week before France's presidential election, the leading candidates rallied tens of thousands to separate events Sunday to outline two very different visions of the future.
Hundreds of Air France flights were canceled Tuesday — including 40 percent out of Paris' Charles de Gaulle airport — and the disruption is expected to get worse during a union strike over labor rights.
The major leaders in World War II have come down to us as either saints or scoundrels. An exception is the man who led France from exile during World War II, Charles de Gaulle, who is now the subject of a succinct biography by World War II historian Michael Haskew.
In the spring of 1947, I was on deck as one of that dying breed of trans-Atlantic liners was tugged into Le Havre. Despite decades of experience, there was incredible confusion as French stevedores hassled over tying up the ropes.
One of the more contentious relationships of World War II was that between French Gen. Charles de Gaulle on one side and President Franklin D. Roosevelt and British Prime Minister Winston Churchill on the other. Indeed, scorn for de Gaulle was so deep at one point that Roosevelt and Churchill considered a military occupation of France at war's end - pending free elections - rather than putting the country into the hands of de Gaulle.
President Obama seems frustrated because he has "tried everything" to revive the economy and still it's in a slump. But as the following cases suggest, he hasn't tried the kind of policies that work.
The current comedy of errors going on in the White House harkens back to the day when that supreme French narcissist, Charles de Gaulle, tried to tell British Prime Minister Winston Churchill and U.S. President Franklin D. Roosevelt how to deal with Germany ("Syria attack: High-stakes decisions on Capitol Hill are yes, no and maybe," Web, Sept. 8).
From London he broadcast a message of defiance: "France," he told his fellow countrymen, "has lost a battle.