Barbara F. Walter: How Civil Wars Start — And Why America Is at Risk

In a sobering yet surprisingly hopeful conversation held as part of the Democracy First speaker series, political scientist Barbara F. Walter laid bare the growing threat of political violence in the United States. Walter, author of the bestseller How Civil Wars Start, draws on decades of conflict research and her work with the CIA’s Political Instability Task Force to sound the alarm: America is slipping into dangerous territory.

The Warning Signs: Enocracy and Identity-Based Parties

Walter explains that the Task Force, using global data, found only two reliable predictors for civil conflict:

  1. Enocracy — countries that are neither full democracies nor full autocracies.

  2. Political parties organized around identity — particularly race, religion, or ethnicity.

Nations that fall into this grey zone are uniquely vulnerable. “Almost all political violence,” she said, “happens in the middle,” between democracy and autocracy.

When she applied this model to the U.S. (unofficially, as the CIA is barred from domestic surveillance), she saw a troubling trend: the U.S. had been downgraded from a full democracy in 2016 to a partial democracy by 2020, entering what she calls the “anocracy zone.” At the same time, the Republican Party had become increasingly defined by white identity and evangelical Christianity, while the Democratic Party had become a multi-ethnic coalition.

“By the Task Force’s definition,” Walter concluded, “the U.S. would likely have gone on the watch list in December 2020”—a list of nations at high risk of political instability or violence within two years. “And then,” she added, “January 6th happened.”

What Civil War Would Look Like Today

Walter is quick to dismantle outdated notions of civil war. Modern internal conflicts rarely resemble 1860s-style battles between uniformed armies. Instead, they look like what’s happening in places like Northern Ireland or Sri Lanka: insurgencies, guerrilla warfare, and terrorism. Civilians become the primary targets—especially minorities and perceived supporters of the state.

In the U.S., that could mean attacks on judges, election officials, law enforcement, or marginalized groups such as African Americans, Jews, Latinos, and LGBTQ communities.

Who drives this violence? Not the most oppressed, Walter explains, but “groups that were politically and economically dominant and are now in decline.” They experience loss of status, still have resources, and resist change. In the U.S., she suggests, the rise of white nationalist groups fits that pattern.

The Role of Social Media and Disinformation

Another accelerant? Social media. Walter calls it a “backdoor” for authoritarian regimes like Putin’s Russia to undermine democratic societies. Algorithms designed to trigger anger and fear have polarized citizens, amplified misinformation, and made viral hate easy and instant. She calls for one modest reform that could drastically reduce the spread of destabilizing content: temporarily disable the reshare button on platforms like Facebook during key democratic moments, such as elections.

“If I had one wish,” she says, “it would be to regulate the algorithms—not the content, just the algorithms.”

Can Democracy Be Saved?

Walter is not fatalistic. “I’m an optimist,” she insists. Despite structural flaws in American democracy—gerrymandering, the electoral college, and executive overreach—she sees potential for reform. She places hope in independent voters, especially immigrants and younger generations, who are less tied to partisan histories and more open to centrist politics.

She also calls for renewed attention to voting rights. Bills like the Freedom to Vote Act and the John Lewis Voting Rights Advancement Act are not radical, she says—they simply restore protections that were standard a decade ago.

Further Reading

  • Barbara F. Walter – How Civil Wars Start: And How to Stop Them, Crown Publishing, 2022.

  • Barbara F. Walter — the author of "How Civil Wars Start" — explains the threat of Trump 2.0
    Hosted by Democracy First, available on YouTube: Watch the full video here

  • Peter Pomerantsev – This Is Not Propaganda: Adventures in the War Against Reality

  • Freedom to Vote Act – Overview via the Brennan Center for Justice

  • John Lewis Voting Rights Advancement Act – Summary from Congress.gov

The Capitulare de villis: Charlemagne’s Vision of Agricultural Order

Capitulare de villis vel curtis imperii.

The Capitulare de villis vel curtis imperii, commonly referred to simply as the Capitulare de villis, is a remarkable administrative document issued during the reign of Charlemagne (circa 800 AD). More than a list of rules, it reflects the Carolingian emperor’s ambitious effort to standardize and manage the vast imperial estates that sustained his empire. Among its many concerns—ranging from justice and governance to inventory management and household conduct—one section stands out for its enduring cultural relevance: a detailed list of plants to be cultivated in the royal gardens.

This list, found in chapter 70 of the document, names 94 plants, including vegetables, herbs, fruits, and medicinal species. It reads almost like a blueprint for a medieval kitchen garden: leeks, onions, cabbages, parsnips, fennel, mint, rosemary, and many others. It even includes exotic items like ginger and costmary, showing the reach and ambition of Carolingian horticulture.

The Capitulare offers more than botanical curiosity; it illustrates Charlemagne’s desire to exert control over nature and the economy through order, uniformity, and self-sufficiency. By prescribing which plants were to be grown, he ensured that each estate would be equipped not only to feed itself but also to serve the health and needs of the court and army. In a time of limited infrastructure and communication, such detailed regulation helped stabilize resources across a sprawling empire.

Today, the Capitulare de villis is regarded as a cornerstone of medieval agronomy and early European statecraft. It bridges the worlds of governance, agriculture, and cultural transmission—testifying to a ruler who understood that an empire's strength lay not only in armies and alliances but in well-managed gardens and kitchens.

The Capitulare de villis in English.

On Freedom: A Vision for Our Times

Timothy Snyder.

In a world grappling with political upheaval and the erosion of democratic norms, Yale historian Timothy Snyder offers a compelling redefinition of freedom. In his 2023 talk in Kyiv, titled Freedom as a Value and a Task, Snyder challenges conventional notions of liberty and presents a framework that resonates deeply with contemporary struggles for democracy.

From 'Freedom From' to 'Freedom To'

Snyder critiques the prevalent Western concept of negative freedom—defined as the absence of constraints—and advocates for a shift towards positive freedom, which emphasizes the capacity to act and make meaningful choices. He argues that true freedom is not merely about being left alone but about having the agency to shape one's life and society. This perspective is particularly poignant in the context of Ukraine's resistance against authoritarian aggression, where the fight is not just for survival but for the right to determine one's future.

The Five Pillars of Freedom

In his book On Freedom, Snyder outlines five essential dimensions of freedom:

  1. Sovereignty: The ability of individuals and nations to self-govern without external domination.

  2. Unpredictability: The openness to new experiences and the capacity for innovation and change.

  3. Mobility: The freedom to move and the access to opportunities beyond one's immediate environment.

  4. Factuality: A commitment to truth and the rejection of misinformation, which is vital for informed decision-making.

  5. Solidarity: The recognition that individual freedom is interconnected with the freedom of others, fostering a sense of collective responsibility.

These pillars underscore that freedom is not an isolated endeavor but a communal one, requiring mutual support and shared values.

Freedom in Practice: Lessons from Ukraine

Snyder's engagement with Ukraine offers a real-world illustration of his theories. He observes that Ukrainians' pursuit of freedom is not abstract but grounded in daily acts of resilience and solidarity. Their struggle exemplifies how freedom involves active participation in democratic processes and the defense of human rights against oppressive forces.

Reclaiming Freedom in the Modern World

Snyder warns that the misinterpretation of freedom as mere individualism can lead to societal fragmentation and vulnerability to authoritarianism. He calls for a reinvigoration of democratic institutions and a recommitment to the collective aspects of freedom, such as education, healthcare, and civic engagement. By doing so, societies can build resilience against the forces that threaten liberty.

Further Reading

  • Timothy Snyder: Freedom as a Value and a Task – Watch the full talk delivered in Kyiv: YouTube link

  • Timothy Snyder, On Freedom

  • Timothy Snyder, On Tyranny: Twenty Lessons from the Twentieth Century

  • Timothy Snyder, The Road to Unfreedom: Russia, Europe, America

  • Timothy Snyder, Bloodlands: Europe Between Hitler and Stalin

Vitteaux (France)

Driving through the villages of France in November feels like moving through a quiet, almost forgotten landscape. The skies, heavy with clouds, cast a dull, grey light over the narrow roads and aging buildings. Many of the houses show signs of wear—peeling paint, cracked walls, and shutters left hanging askew—evidence of a middle class struggling to keep up. The streets are almost empty, with only the occasional car passing by or an elderly resident hurrying through the cold. Shops are often closed, and the few that remain open seem to do so more out of habit than business. The trees are bare, and the damp chill in the air adds to the sense of isolation, as if these once-bustling villages are caught in a moment of quiet endurance, waiting for better days.

Nationalism in 19th Century Europe: Unity, Identity, and Conflict

Angling in Troubled Waters, by Fred W. Rose (1899).

The 19th century was the age in which nationalism emerged as one of the most transformative political ideologies in Europe. Sparked by the French Revolution and fueled by the Enlightenment’s ideals of popular sovereignty, equality, and reason, nationalism promoted the idea that people sharing a common language, culture, and history should form self-governing nations. As the century unfolded, nationalism reshaped the political map of Europe, unifying fragmented states, challenging empires, and redefining what it meant to belong.

The Roots of Nationalism

The French Revolution introduced the radical concept that sovereignty should reside not with monarchs, but with "the nation"—an entity representing the collective will of the people. Philosophers like Jean-Jacques Rousseau emphasized the "general will" as the moral and political authority of a united people. This idea was powerful and dangerous: it justified the fall of monarchies, the creation of republics, and eventually, wars of national liberation. Though the French revolutionaries failed to fully unify the population of France, they demonstrated the potential of nationalism to mobilize mass support, challenge traditional hierarchies, and inspire change​.

Unification and Resistance

Nationalism played a decisive role in the unification of Germany and Italy, two major new states that did not exist in modern form before the 1860s.

In Germany, the nationalist sentiment had been culturally nurtured by Romantic thinkers such as Fichte and Arndt, who emphasized the German language and collective identity, especially in opposition to foreign influence (notably France). Politically, unification was driven by Otto von Bismarck, the Prussian chancellor, who used a pragmatic and militaristic strategy (Realpolitik) to isolate Austria, defeat France in the Franco-Prussian War, and unite the German-speaking states under Prussian dominance in 1871. The newly formed German Empire became a powerful and industrialized state, but its unification came at the cost of suppressing internal diversity and fostering external rivalries​.

In Italy, unification efforts were more ideologically fragmented. Giuseppe Mazzini championed a republican and democratic vision, while Camillo Cavour, Prime Minister of Piedmont-Sardinia, worked to expand northern Italy through diplomacy and war. Giuseppe Garibaldi added southern Italy to the fold through popular uprisings. Italy was formally unified in 1861, though it wasn’t until 1870, with the capture of Rome, that the peninsula was fully consolidated. Despite unification, deep economic and cultural divides between the industrial North and the rural South remained, and tensions with the Catholic Church lingered for decades​.

Nationalism and the Multinational Empires

While nationalism unified some regions, it posed existential threats to others—especially the Austrian, Ottoman, and Russian empires. These vast, multi-ethnic states were increasingly unstable as various ethnic groups—Hungarians, Czechs, Poles, Serbs, Bulgarians, and others—demanded autonomy or independence.

In Austria, the monarchy was forced to grant limited self-rule to Hungary, creating the Austro-Hungarian dual monarchy in 1867. Even this compromise failed to ease all ethnic tensions. In the Ottoman Empire, nationalist revolts, like the successful Greek War of Independence (1821–1830), were followed by others in the Balkans. Russia, meanwhile, responded to nationalist dissent with repression and policies of Russification, imposing Russian language and culture on its diverse populations, and conducting violent pogroms against Jews​.

Cultural and Political Implications

The spread of nationalism had profound implications for how people understood identity, citizenship, and state power. Where earlier generations had tied loyalty to monarchs or religious authorities, nationalism demanded loyalty to the nation—often defined in ethnic or linguistic terms. National identity became something to be cultivated through public education, literature, historical memory, and symbolic acts like the adoption of national flags, anthems, and holidays.

However, this also meant that those who didn’t fit the national mold—minorities, immigrants, or religious outsiders—were increasingly marginalized. Nationalism encouraged the construction of “us vs. them” dynamics. As the century progressed, this fostered antisemitism, especially in places like Germany and Russia, where Jews were cast as the internal “other.” Nationalism could therefore empower and liberate, but also divide and persecute​.

Looking Forward

By the end of the 19th century, nationalism had become a dominant political force across Europe, influencing liberal and conservative regimes alike. It enabled the formation of new states and inspired oppressed peoples to claim self-rule. But it also laid the groundwork for international rivalry, ethnic conflict, and imperialist ambitions, which would explode catastrophically in the 20th century.

Nationalism in the 19th century was thus a double-edged sword: a source of hope and unity, but also of exclusion and division. Its legacy continues to shape modern politics, making it one of the most enduring and complex ideologies of the modern era.

Rethinking Migration and Citizenship in the 21st Century

An impression of the statue of Gotthold Ephraim Lessing.

In a time when migration policy dominates political debates across Europe, philosopher and political theorist Lea Ypi stands out as a compelling voice calling for a radical rethinking of what citizenship means—and for whom it serves. In her public lecture “Migration and Citizenship in the Twenty-First Century,” delivered in May 2025 at the historic Judenplatz in Vienna, Ypi challenged not just governments and institutions, but all of Europe, to examine its conscience.

Who is Lea Ypi?

Lea Ypi is an Albanian-British political theorist and professor at the London School of Economics. Born in Tirana, Albania in 1979, she came of age during the collapse of the communist regime and the tumultuous transition to liberal democracy. These formative experiences shaped her personal and philosophical outlook, which she explores in her internationally acclaimed memoir Free: Coming of Age at the End of History, a finalist for the 2021 Baillie Gifford Prize and winner of the Royal Society of Literature’s Ondaatje Prize.

Ypi’s academic work covers political theory, Enlightenment thought, Kant, Marxism, and contemporary questions of justice, freedom, and migration. Her voice is not only academic but deeply personal. When she speaks of borders, identity, and the struggle for belonging, it is from both a theoretical vantage point and lived experience.

A Statue, a Story, a Statement

Ypi opened her speech not with statistics or policy recommendations, but with a symbol: a statue of Gotthold Ephraim Lessing, the Enlightenment thinker, whose figure stands in Judenplatz with an open hand and a gentle gaze. Lessing’s Nathan the Wise, a plea for interreligious understanding set during the Crusades, provides the moral and philosophical lens through which Ypi reflects on the migration crisis.

In the play, Nathan—himself a displaced Jew living under Muslim rule—resists all narrow labels and asks simply: “Isn’t it enough to be human?” For Ypi, this is the heart of the matter: the tendency to divide migrants into categories like "deserving" and "undeserving," "legal" and "illegal," "good" and "bad"—is a betrayal not just of humanism, but of Europe’s own Enlightenment ideals.

Beyond Good Migrants

Ypi tells the story of a childhood friend’s father in 1990s Albania—“Ben the Lame,” a dockworker turned smuggler, who helped people escape to Italy after the fall of the communist regime. Once celebrated as a facilitator of freedom, he died at sea and was later mourned by families who saw him as someone who enabled survival and dignity. “He wasn’t Nathan,” Ypi reflects. “He wasn’t a good migrant. He was a bad one.”

This dichotomy—between acceptable and unacceptable migrants—is at the heart of Ypi’s critique. She challenges the notion that migration is primarily a cultural problem. Rather, it is the consequence of global injustice: wars funded by the same Western states that deny asylum, economic collapse induced by neoliberal reforms, and health inequalities exacerbated by vaccine patents.

The Myth of Free Movement

Western nations have long preached the virtues of “freedom,” including the right to move. During the Cold War, dissidents who fled East Germany or the Soviet bloc were welcomed as heroic symbols of liberty. But when similar people—fleeing post-communist instability or Western-sponsored conflicts—arrive today, they are met with fences, patrols, and suspicion.

As Ypi argues: “Just when former socialist states stopped shooting their citizens at the border, capitalist states started patrolling the seas.” The uniforms changed, the logic of exclusion remained.

Capitalism, Class, and Commodification of Citizenship

One of Ypi’s most searing observations is how citizenship has become a commodity. The very rich can buy their way into almost any country through investor visas and golden passports. At the same time, the poor—those without the right education, income, or "cultural fit"—face impossible hurdles.

This two-tiered system, she argues, turns democracy into oligarchy: a regime where money buys belonging. “When citizenship is bought and sold, it ceases to be a tool for emancipation and becomes one of exclusion,” she says. It is not migration that undermines democracy, but the marketization of political membership.

What’s Really at Stake

For Ypi, the real crisis is not one of borders or integration, but of democratic failure:

  • A failure of representation, where politicians respond more to donors and polls than to public interest;

  • A failure of social justice, where inequality continues to rise;

  • A failure of international solidarity, where global institutions fail the vulnerable.

Migration becomes a scapegoat for these deeper problems. “The migrant did not bring this crisis,” Ypi warns. “The migrant merely reveals it.”

A Call for Enlightenment—Not Nostalgia

In closing, Ypi returns to the Enlightenment, not as a Eurocentric relic, but as a critical, universalist project—one that urges us to think beyond borders, beyond identity, beyond obedience. “Obedience always requires ignorance,” she says. “And we are becoming used to not thinking.”

True cosmopolitanism, in Ypi’s view, isn’t about charity or humanitarianism. It’s about political transformation: building societies in which no one is forced to migrate because of war, hunger, or exclusion.

Her message is clear: Europe’s future cannot be built on walls, nor on nostalgia for greatness. It must be built on justice, equality, and critical thinking—on the courage, as Lessing once wrote, “to think for yourself.”

Further Reading:

Reimagining the Common Good: Lessons from the Convivencia and the Crisis of Liberalism

Christian and Moor playing chess, from The Book of Games of Alfonso X, c. 1285.

In Why Liberalism Failed, Patrick Deneen argues that the liberal project, grounded in radical individualism and the disembedding of human beings from tradition, has not failed because it fell short, but because it succeeded on its own terms—producing alienation, social fragmentation, and a loss of shared moral purpose. At first glance, this critique seems rooted in the tensions of the modern West. Yet we find a compelling historical counterpoint in an earlier age: the Golden Age of Córdoba and the broader phenomenon of Convivencia—the relative coexistence of Muslims, Jews, and Christians in medieval Spain. Juxtaposing these two case studies reveals that the health of a political order depends not only on individual liberty or centralized power but on a robust culture of the common good, nourished by shared tradition, moral formation, and civic integration. In looking to the past, we may find the seeds for renewal in the future.

Tradition as a Source of Cultural Flourishing

In Deneen’s telling, one of liberalism’s defining failures is its hostility to tradition. Liberalism seeks to liberate the individual from inherited norms—religion, family, custom, and place. But this liberation often results in an unmoored society, where identity becomes fragile and meaning elusive. In contrast, the cultural efflorescence of Córdoba during the 10th and 11th centuries rested on deeply rooted religious traditions. Muslim rulers, most notably Abd al-Rahman III and al-Hakam II, governed in accordance with Islamic principles while also patronizing philosophy, science, poetry, and architecture. Far from stifling creativity, tradition provided a moral and intellectual foundation that allowed diverse communities to flourish.

This medieval culture welcomed different faiths and cultures, but it still held firm to a common understanding of right and wrong. The Convivencia was not a utopia, but it did involve a negotiated space where religious differences coexisted within a shared cultural frame. Jewish and Christian thinkers such as Maimonides and Ibn Hazm could operate within this world because their traditions were not forcibly erased, but situated within a larger civic ecology. This speaks to a key insight missing in modern liberalism: a shared framework does not require uniformity. It requires mutual respect grounded in moral formation.

The Fragility of Freedom Without Virtue

Deneen emphasizes that liberalism has detached freedom from virtue. Once, liberty meant self-governance rooted in discipline, reason, and the common good. Liberalism redefined it as the right to do as one pleases, constrained only by minimal law. This “freedom from” eventually undermines social trust, as civic responsibility gives way to private consumption and rights-claims.

In Córdoba, by contrast, freedom was culturally and spiritually embedded. A Jew in 10th-century Andalusia was not “free” in the liberal sense, but was often able to flourish—economically, intellectually, and spiritually—within the protections of Islamic law. Muslim rulers saw themselves as stewards, not engineers of human nature. They recognized that freedom divorced from religious and philosophical virtue would dissolve into chaos.

What modern liberal societies often lack, and what Córdoba retained for a time, is a shared understanding that freedom is the fruit of virtue and order, not its enemy.

Community and Place in Civic Life

Liberalism tends to reduce community to a voluntary association of autonomous individuals. In practice, this means that the local, the familial, and the civic are eroded by globalized markets and centralized bureaucracies. Deneen is especially critical of how both market and state expand at the expense of local self-rule and moral formation.

In medieval Córdoba, however, identity was deeply tied to community, city, and craft. Learning was conducted in mosques and private homes. Artisans, scholars, and merchants all operated within a web of relational trust, embedded in their religious and neighborhood communities. Jews, for instance, preserved their own courts and educational institutions while contributing to the broader culture through translation, science, and philosophy. This rootedness gave meaning to life beyond the transactional.

The modern liberal order’s mobility and abstraction offer choices—but often at the expense of belonging and interdependence. The lesson from Córdoba is that diversity can thrive when situated in concrete practices of hospitality, shared learning, and civic responsibility—not when reduced to atomized tolerance.

The Common Good as a Civic Ideal

Finally, both Deneen and the legacy of Convivencia suggest that any enduring political order must be animated by a vision of the common good. For Córdoba, this meant an embrace of wisdom, virtue, and divine order across religious lines. For Deneen, recovering this ideal requires rejecting the liberal assumption that society is just a marketplace of preferences. Instead, politics must be reoriented around human flourishing in community.

This doesn’t necessitate theocracy or uniformity. But it does require a substantive notion of the good life—something liberalism often avoids in favor of neutrality. Córdoba's experience demonstrates that civic peace and cultural greatness are most possible when pluralism is guided by shared purpose, not endless individual autonomy.

Conclusion: Toward a Post-Liberal Imagination

Why Liberalism Failed warns us that the liberal order, for all its triumphs, may be hollowing out the very conditions that sustain human dignity and social coherence. The Golden Age of Córdoba offers a counter-narrative—imperfect, but instructive—where tradition, virtue, and plurality were integrated into a living civic order.

From these two visions—one a critique of modernity, the other a glimpse into a flourishing past—we can begin to imagine a new politics: one that balances freedom with virtue, honors tradition without tyranny, and pursues the common good over mere individual preference. Perhaps, in that synthesis, lies the hope for a more human future.

Further Reading:

  1. Deneen, Patrick J. Why Liberalism Failed. Yale University Press, 2018.
    – The central critique of liberalism explored in the essay.

  2. Menocal, María Rosa. The Ornament of the World: How Muslims, Jews, and Christians Created a Culture of Tolerance in Medieval Spain. Little, Brown, 2002.
    – A well-known, accessible account of Convivencia and the cultural flourishing of medieval Córdoba.

  3. Fletcher, Richard. Moorish Spain. University of California Press, 1992.
    – A balanced historical account of Muslim rule in Spain, including the complexities of religious coexistence.

  4. Constable, Olivia Remie. Medieval Iberia: Readings from Christian, Muslim, and Jewish Sources. University of Pennsylvania Press, 1997.
    – A compilation of primary sources giving voice to the different religious communities in al-Andalus.

  5. MacIntyre, Alasdair. After Virtue: A Study in Moral Theory. University of Notre Dame Press, 1981.
    – An important influence on Deneen, arguing that modern moral discourse has become incoherent due to the loss of classical and religious frameworks.

  6. Taylor, Charles. A Secular Age. Harvard University Press, 2007.
    – Explores how modern societies have redefined meaning and the self in the wake of religious tradition.

Biodiversity Day 2025: Why It Matters to What We Eat, Who We Are, and Whether We Survive

We are losing the fabric of life that sustains us — and most people barely notice. Biodiversity isn’t just about saving the bees or protecting a handful of rare animals. It’s about the intricate web of life — thousands of species, from soil microbes to insects to birds — working together in delicate balance. When that balance is disturbed, ecosystems begin to break down. And when ecosystems collapse, so do the systems we rely on for food, clean water, a stable climate, and good health. Our survival doesn’t depend on a few visible species — it depends on the whole living system. Biodiversity isn’t a luxury. It is the living infrastructure that keeps everything else standing.

Today, on International Day for Biological Diversity, we ask: What does biodiversity loss look like here in the Netherlands? How does our food system contribute to — and suffer from — the crisis? And why is this not only an ecological issue, but also a cultural one?

Biodiversity and Survival: Why It Matters

Biodiversity underpins everything humans depend on: pollination, clean air, nutrient cycles, disease control, and climate regulation. Forests absorb carbon. Wetlands purify water. Soil fungi help plants access nutrients. Insects control pests. All of these services depend on complex interactions between thousands of species.

When we lose biodiversity, we don’t just lose individual species. We lose the stability and resilience of entire ecosystems. A forest with fewer insects loses birds. A sea with fewer plankton starves its fish. A field without worms loses fertility. This degradation often happens quietly — until a tipping point is reached, and the system suddenly crashes.

What’s at stake, ultimately, is not just nature. It’s food security, public health, economic stability, and our ability to survive.

Our Food System: Both Cause and Casualty

In the Netherlands, the largest single driver of biodiversity loss is agriculture — especially industrial livestock farming. With nearly 4 million cows, 12 million pigs, and over 100 million chickens, our country produces enormous volumes of manure, more than the land and water can absorb.

This leads to:

  • Nitrogen overload, damaging plant life and degrading soil

  • Water pollution, harming aquatic species and drinking water quality

  • Loss of habitat, as monocultures and fields replace diverse landscapes

  • Decline in pollinators and beneficial insects, due to pesticides and habitat loss

Yet biodiversity is also essential for agriculture. Without healthy soils, diverse microbes, natural pest control, and pollinators, farming becomes fragile and heavily dependent on synthetic inputs. The result is a dangerous feedback loop: the more industrialized our farming becomes, the more we destroy the biodiversity that makes agriculture possible.

Breaking that cycle means reducing our dependence on livestock and intensive monoculture — and rethinking what ends up on our plates.

From Culture to Cultivation: How Nature Shapes Identity

Biodiversity is not only ecological. It is cultural.

Traditional foods, stories, medicines, and practices often emerge from a specific place — and the species found there. Dutch cuisine once relied heavily on regional grains, herbs, wild plants, and foraged ingredients. Local proverbs, festivals, and rituals were linked to seasons and landscapes. Lose the meadow, and the song about it disappears. Lose the eel, and so goes the smoked delicacy passed down for generations.

As biodiversity declines, so too does this cultural richness. Our relationship with nature becomes more abstract, less rooted in place. A handful of supermarket crops replace centuries of local food knowledge. Cultural diversity shrinks alongside biological diversity.

But there’s a flip side: restoring biodiversity can help restore culture. Reviving regional crops, preserving historic landscapes, or protecting pollinators doesn’t just help ecosystems — it reconnects people with their heritage, with land, and with each other.

What Needs to Happen

The 2025 Statusrapport Nederlandse Biodiversiteit from Naturalis makes one thing clear: we have the knowledge and tools to reverse biodiversity loss — but only if we act now and decisively. Key actions include:

  1. Enforce environmental laws and targets, especially around nitrogen, land use, and water quality.

  2. Transition to nature-inclusive agriculture, including fewer livestock and more regenerative methods.

  3. Integrate biodiversity into climate, housing, and economic policy, not as a side issue but as a central pillar.

  4. Invest in science and monitoring, including DNA-based soil analysis and AI-powered species recognition.

  5. Support public participation, from citizen science to community nature restoration.

  6. Shift dietary habits, reducing meat and dairy consumption to ease pressure on ecosystems.

This is not just a technical challenge — it’s a cultural one. Change won’t come from policy alone. It requires a shift in values, in consumption, and in the stories we tell about land, food, and ourselves.

What You Can Do

  • Eat less meat. Choose more local, seasonal, plant-based foods.

  • Support farmers and cooperatives who prioritize soil health and biodiversity.

  • Join a citizen science project — or simply learn the names of the plants and insects around you.

  • Advocate for policies that link nature, farming, climate, and health.

  • Start conversations — at the kitchen table, at work, or at school — about how we can live well within the limits of nature.

Further Reading

  • Naturalis Biodiversity Center (2025), Statusrapport Nederlandse Biodiversiteit 2025. Leiden, The Netherlands. DOI: 10.5281/zenodo.15350844

The Mating Mind in a Liquid World

On Attraction, Identity, and the Dance of Display

What do peacocks and poets have in common? According to evolutionary psychologist Geoffrey Miller, quite a lot. In The Mating Mind (2000), Miller proposes that many human traits—like creativity, humor, music, and even morality—evolved not just for survival, but for sexual selection. Much like a peacock’s tail, these traits may serve as signals of fitness, or genetic quality, designed to attract mates.

But how does this theory hold up in today’s fast-moving, unstable, and hyper-connected world—what sociologist Zygmunt Bauman calls liquid modernity? In a culture where identities shift, norms are fluid, and platforms for self-display multiply by the minute, the human desire to attract and impress others takes on new forms—and new anxieties.

This essay explores how the evolutionary logic of The Mating Mind operates within the cultural conditions of liquid culture, and what it means for how we present ourselves, choose partners, and construct meaning in our lives.

The Mating Mind: Attraction Through Display

Miller’s theory builds on Darwin’s idea of sexual selection—the process by which traits evolve because they are attractive to potential mates, not necessarily because they offer a survival advantage. For example, a bird’s complex song or a dancer’s graceful moves may signal underlying fitness.

Miller suggests that many of the traits we think of as uniquely human—language, art, kindness, philosophical thinking—may have evolved as courtship displays. These traits are expensive to develop and hard to fake, making them reliable indicators of intelligence and social ability.

In this view, much of human behavior can be seen as a form of mating performance: we signal our worth through wit, taste, creativity, and cultural capital. It’s not just about reproduction—it’s about being chosen.

Liquid Modernity: The Unstable Stage

Zygmunt Bauman, writing from a sociological perspective, paints a very different picture—but one that surprisingly complements Miller’s evolutionary lens. In Liquid Modernity (2000), Bauman describes modern life as fluid, unstable, and individualistic. Traditional roles, communities, and values have broken down. In their place, we’re left with a world where people must constantly reinvent themselves—socially, emotionally, and even romantically.

Where The Mating Mind sees courtship as a natural process shaped by evolutionary forces, Liquid Modernity shows us how that process is now happening on an unstable stage. The scripts have changed. The audience is global. And the performance never really ends.

Where They Meet: Display in a Liquid World

In many ways, modern culture supercharges the dynamics Miller describes. Social media platforms are digital arenas for self-display. Profiles, selfies, tweets, bios, and likes all become part of a carefully curated mating (and social) signal. Online dating apps like Tinder and Hinge reduce attraction to images and short texts—speeding up the display-and-selection process to an evolutionary blur.

But Bauman’s insights add a crucial twist: in liquid culture, the self is no longer fixed. We are constantly urged to rebrand, update, and improve ourselves—not only for employers or friends, but for potential romantic partners. The pressure to be attractive now extends far beyond physical looks: we must be interesting, woke, witty, emotionally intelligent, and Instagrammable.

Miller's evolutionary signals have not vanished—they’ve simply multiplied and fragmented, delivered through apps, memes, playlists, bios, and TikToks.

The Costs of Liquid Attraction

Bauman warns that in liquid society, relationships can become fragile and consumer-like. People are treated less like long-term partners and more like options to be tried and discarded. Love, once tied to community and ritual, becomes another space for choice, performance, and uncertainty.

This affects how we use our “mating minds.” If our displays are constantly shifting to keep up with trends, how do we know who we really are—or what kind of love we truly want? If the self becomes a performance, is there still an authentic core behind the show?

Conclusion: Between Biology and Culture

Geoffrey Miller and Zygmunt Bauman come from very different disciplines—evolutionary psychology and sociology—but together, they offer a powerful way to think about human connection today.

Miller reminds us that the drive to attract and impress is deep, ancient, and creative. Bauman shows us that in a world where everything flows, that drive becomes harder to satisfy, and more anxious to maintain.

We still seek to be seen, chosen, admired—but in a liquid world, that search is increasingly unstable. Understanding both the biology and the culture behind our desires may help us navigate the tension between display and depth, freedom and connection, and ultimately, between performance and presence.

Further Reading:

  • Geoffrey Miller – The Mating Mind: How Sexual Choice Shaped the Evolution of Human Nature (2000)

  • Zygmunt Bauman – Liquid Modernity (2000)

  • Eva Illouz – Consuming the Romantic Utopia (1997)

  • Sherry Turkle – Alone Together (2011)

  • Byung-Chul Han – The Agony of Eros (2012)

Saint Martha and the Mythical Tarasca of Antequera (Spain)

La Tarasca of Antequera (Spain).

In Antequera, within the historic Real Colegiata de Santa María la Mayor, stands the captivating figure of La Tarasca. This sculpture portrays a fearsome, multi-headed serpent subdued and guided by Saint Martha, a representation deeply rooted in both Christian tradition and medieval folklore. Historically, such figures have played a significant role in religious processions, particularly during the Corpus Christi celebrations, where they symbolize the triumph of faith over chaos and evil.

The Tarasca of Antequera is not merely a static sculpture but a dynamic element of the town’s rich cultural heritage. During Corpus Christi, it becomes a focal point of the procession, evoking both awe and curiosity as it parades through the streets, often accompanied by music and traditional performances. This tradition, inherited from medieval European festivities, has been preserved and adapted over centuries, reflecting changes in religious and societal values while maintaining its core symbolism.

The origins of La Tarasca can be traced back to the medieval legend of Saint Martha, who, according to tradition, tamed a monstrous creature known as the Tarasque in Provence, France. This narrative spread across Spain, influencing local customs and processions, particularly in cities like Granada, Seville, and Antequera. The version found in Antequera is unique in its artistic expression, emphasizing the town’s distinct identity within Andalusian heritage.

Beyond its religious significance, La Tarasca serves as a bridge between the past and present, inviting both residents and visitors to immerse themselves in the legends and traditions that have shaped Antequera’s cultural landscape. Its presence in the Real Colegiata de Santa María la Mayor underscores the enduring connection between sacred spaces and local folklore, ensuring that this fascinating symbol of faith and myth continues to captivate generations to come.

Trump’s ‘Commercial Diplomacy’ and the Remaking of U.S. Foreign Policy

President Donald Trump and Saudi Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman.

President Donald Trump’s recent whirlwind tour of the Middle East has grabbed headlines—not for saber-rattling or ideological speeches—but for something far more transactional: a staggering $2 trillion in business deals. From Saudi Arabia to Qatar, the United Arab Emirates to Pakistan, Trump’s second-term foreign policy is rewriting the rules. At the center of this transformation stands a bold concept: commercial diplomacy.

In a widely shared LinkedIn article, tech entrepreneur and investor Karl Mehta hails this shift as a “new era” in U.S. foreign policy—one that ditches decades of doctrine-driven alliances in favor of open markets, investment partnerships, and economic pragmatism. While Trump’s critics see recklessness and a disregard for human rights and long-standing allies, Mehta sees strategy: a dealmaker’s vision of peace and prosperity through commerce.

The Pivot to Business

What is commercial diplomacy? At its core, it’s using diplomatic influence not to spread democracy or contain threats, but to unlock trade opportunities, foster innovation, and secure investment. Trump’s version is unapologetically opportunistic. Instead of drawing red lines, he draws up contracts.

Consider the numbers:

  • $600 billion pledged by Saudi Arabia, including massive investments in U.S. defense, AI, and energy.

  • $243 billion in deals with Qatar, featuring Boeing aircraft and defense systems.

  • $14.5 billion from the UAE for aircraft and data centers.

These are not mere memoranda of understanding—they're strategic bets on a world where America’s power is measured in partnerships and product lines, not only in military bases or moral posturing.

Rewriting the Rules: Syria, Pakistan, and China

Trump’s deal-making extends far beyond the Gulf. In a surprise move, he lifted all U.S. sanctions on Syria, opening the door for American investment in reconstruction projects. This move was reportedly brokered with Saudi backing—a clear signal that economic inclusion trumps past hostilities.

Similarly, Pakistan, long criticized for harboring terrorist groups, is now being offered a zero-tariff trade deal. It's a decision that many foreign policy veterans find shocking—especially given the potential to alienate India, America’s democratic partner and economic powerhouse.

And then there's China. Despite ongoing tensions, Trump finalized a new trade pact aimed at reducing tariffs and expanding market access. For Mehta, this underscores a core belief of commercial diplomacy: competition doesn't preclude cooperation.

From Diplomats to Dealmakers

Perhaps the most symbolic shift is in who’s leading U.S. foreign relations. Trump’s foreign policy team features not career diplomats but Wall Street and real estate magnates—people like Howard Lutnick and Steven Witkoff. These figures speak the language of leverage and liquidity, not protocol or public service.

This, Mehta argues, is the point: in a world driven by capital flows and digital infrastructure, business minds may be better equipped than bureaucrats to navigate geopolitical complexity.

A Double-Edged Strategy

Yet for all the optimism, the risks are real.

Critics, including writers in The New York Post and The Guardian, warn that Trump’s policies could alienate traditional allies like Israel, who now fear being sidelined in favor of deals with Iran or the Houthis in Yemen. Others caution that prioritizing commerce over democratic values might empower authoritarian regimes and erode America's moral authority.

Moreover, there’s the question of sustainability. Are these deals built to last, or will they unravel with the next administration—or the next diplomatic crisis?

The Verdict: A World in Transaction

Whether one sees Trump’s commercial diplomacy as visionary or volatile, it undeniably marks a rupture with the past. Karl Mehta calls it “the engine driving America’s engagement with the world.” And for now, at least, the world appears eager to buy in.

In a global order shaken by war, pandemics, and economic upheaval, Trump is betting that dollars and data centers will succeed where doctrines have failed. The question is whether this business-first foreign policy can build a stable and just global future—or whether it will leave the United States richer but more isolated.

The Erasure of Gaza: War Crimes the World Must Stop

We must remember the Holocaust. We must condemn the Hamas attacks of October 7, 2023, in which over 1,200 Israelis were killed and 251 civilians kidnapped. These horrors deserve unequivocal recognition.

But remembrance must never be used as a license for new atrocities.

As of May 2025, over 50,000 Palestinians have been killed in Gaza—17,000 of them children. Gaza has been reduced to rubble. Schools, homes, hospitals—erased. Now, with nearly nothing left standing, the Israeli government is advancing a chilling next step: the forced removal of Gaza’s remaining population.

This is not about self-defense. This is deliberate devastation followed by displacement. It is the systematic destruction of a people’s land, life, and future. It is genocide unfolding in plain sight.

Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu made his intent clear early in the war. On October 28, 2023, he invoked Deuteronomy 25:17, stating:

"You must remember what Amalek has done to you, says our Holy Bible."

That biblical passage commands the Israelites to "blot out the memory of Amalek from under heaven." In Jewish tradition, Amalek represents an enemy to be utterly destroyed.

By invoking this scripture, Netanyahu framed the Palestinian population as Amalek—a people to be eradicated. This is not metaphor. It is the ideological foundation of a military campaign that has killed tens of thousands and now seeks to expel the survivors.

Western governments, particularly in the U.S. and Europe, continue to issue statements of “concern” while supplying weapons and diplomatic cover. This is not neutrality. This is complicity.

To recognize the trauma of Jewish history is not to stay silent in the face of mass slaughter. To condemn Hamas is not to greenlight the ethnic cleansing of Gaza.

The world must act now. We must demand an immediate ceasefire, an end to the blockade, full humanitarian access, and a binding international response to halt the displacement of Gaza’s population.

Silence is betrayal. Delay is death.

History is watching. Gaza is watching. And the stain of inaction will not be easily erased.

 

Are We on the Brink of World War III? Echoes of 1938–1939

Professor Darin Gerdes.

In a sobering analysis released on May 15, 2025, Professor Darin Gerdes draws striking parallels between today’s geopolitical tensions and the volatile prelude to World War II. His YouTube video, “Are We on the Brink of WWIII? 1938–39’s Grim Clues!”, walks viewers through an eerie comparison between the global landscape of 1938–39 and our current moment.

A World on Edge

Gerdes opens with a survey of ongoing global flashpoints: the unresolved tensions between India and Pakistan, the persistent conflicts between Israel and its neighbors, the dangerous proxy war in Yemen, and most alarmingly, the war in Ukraine. That last conflict, he warns, remains the most plausible spark for a wider war, especially if it escalates into NATO territory.

Add to that China’s posturing over Taiwan, North Korea’s provocations, and Iran’s destabilizing role in the Middle East, and you have a dangerous convergence of authoritarian powers testing the limits of the current international order.

History’s Familiar Patterns

To understand how these scattered conflicts might stitch themselves into something far larger, Gerdes turns to history. The late 1930s were full of similar unrest: the Spanish Civil War, Japan’s invasion of China, the Nazi annexation of Austria, and the infamous Molotov–Ribbentrop Pact that divided Eastern Europe. At the time, international institutions failed to act decisively, and authoritarian regimes pushed aggressively into neighboring states.

Then, as now, the world seemed fragmented and distracted—until suddenly, it wasn’t.

Similarities—and Crucial Differences

Gerdes outlines the many parallels:

  • Multiple simultaneous conflicts

  • Authoritarian expansionism

  • Weak international institutions

  • Economic strain and disrupted trade

  • Rapid changes in military technology

But he also notes key differences. Most significantly, today's world is shaped by nuclear deterrence—a force absent in the 1930s that both restrains and complicates modern warfare. In addition, while global alliances today are less defined than the Axis and Allied powers of the past, they still exist—particularly through NATO.

Another difference lies in information speed. Unlike the 1930s, today’s public sees conflicts unfold in real time, with live updates, satellite images, and constant commentary. This visibility might deter rash action—or inflame it further.

What Comes Next?

Gerdes stops short of declaring a third world war imminent. Instead, he suggests we are at a crossroads. The lessons of 1938 and 1939 don’t guarantee the same outcome—but they should serve as a warning. History doesn’t repeat itself, he reminds us, but it does echo.

To hear Professor Gerdes explain the full historical context and his complete analysis, watch the full video here:
▶️ Are We on the Brink of WWIII? 1938–39’s Grim Clues!

The 'Escena Familiar', Zamora (Spain)

The ‘Escena Familiar’ (1905), by José Gutiérrez García (Filuco) and Heinrich Kühn, Museum of Zamora.

The photograph Escena Familiar, displayed in the Museum of Zamora, is a striking depiction of a modest household in early 20th-century Spain. Capturing a moment of daily life, the image provides insight into the social conditions of Zamora around 1905, a time when the city was experiencing economic struggles, rural poverty, and the gradual transformation of its traditional society. The region, largely agrarian, faced challenges such as industrial underdevelopment, limited infrastructure, and high emigration rates, as many sought better opportunities in industrialized areas of Spain and abroad.

The authorship of Escena Familiar remains a subject of debate. While long attributed to José Gutiérrez García, known as Filuco—a Zamoran photographer, painter, and entrepreneur—some evidence suggests a connection to the Austrian pictorialist Heinrich Kühn. The use of gombicromatography, a technique associated with Kühn, and the existence of a copy inscribed with both names support the theory of a collaboration or shared influence. Whether Filuco or Kühn was the principal creator, the photograph stands as a testament to the artistic experimentation of the era and the enduring power of imagery to document and evoke historical realities.

Why So Many Evangelicals Embraced Trump

It surprised many: a movement known for preaching morality and humility threw its weight behind a man famous for neither. But the strong support Donald Trump received from American evangelicals wasn’t a fluke or a betrayal of faith—it revealed how much the meaning of that faith had already changed.

Over recent decades, a significant part of evangelical culture shifted from focusing on personal virtue to defending group identity. As American culture became more diverse and secular, many white evangelicals began to feel sidelined. They no longer saw themselves as moral leaders, but as a misunderstood, even persecuted minority. This loss of status bred resentment and fear.

Trump didn’t share their theology—but he spoke to their sense of threat. He promised to fight for them, to “Make America Great Again,” which many heard as restoring their place in the cultural mainstream. He didn’t need to be Christ-like. He just needed to be loyal to their side.

In this new mindset, traditional virtues like kindness or humility became less important than toughness and loyalty. Supporting Trump became a signal—not of shared values, but of shared enemies. Faith, for many, became less about living like Jesus and more about winning a culture war.

This shift didn’t happen overnight. It was the result of years of mixing faith with politics, fear with identity. Trump didn’t cause the change. He exposed it.

Further Reading

  • Kristin Kobes DuMez – Jesus and John Wayne

  • David French – essays on faith and politics

  • Tara Isabella Burton – Self-Made

  • Alain de Botton – Status Anxiety

  • Nancy LeTourneau – “The Status Anxiety of White Evangelicals”

Inauguration of the Museum of Spanish Abstract Art in Cuenca (1966)

Inauguration of the Museum of Spanish Abstract Art in Cuenca, June 30. From left to right, front row: José María Yturralde, Jordi Teixidor, Salvador Victoria, Eusebio Sempere, Fernando Zóbel and Jaime Burguillos. Back: Gustavo Torner, Lucio Muñoz, López Hernández, Carmen Laffón, Amalia Avia, Juana Mordó, José Guerrero, Nicolás Sahuquillo, Manuel Millares, Gerardo Rueda, Martín Chirino, Alberto Portera and Manuel Rivera. Photo: Fernando Nuño. (1966)

On June 30, 1966, a group of artists, intellectuals, and close friends gathered on a wooden staircase in the Casas Colgadas (Hanging Houses) of Cuenca, Spain, to commemorate the inauguration of the Museo de Arte Abstracto Español, the first museum in Spain devoted to contemporary abstract art. Captured in a now-iconic photograph by Fernando Nuño, this moment marked the realization of Fernando Zóbel’s vision to give modern Spanish art a permanent home—artist-driven, independent, and free from state control during the authoritarian Franco regime.

At the center of the front row stands Zóbel himself, arms crossed and smiling modestly, surrounded by artists who had defined—and would continue to shape—the course of Spanish abstraction. From geometric experimentation to gestural informality, from kinetic art to textured matter painting, the group represents the rich diversity of the Spanish avant-garde in the 1950s and 60s.

The photograph is more than a record of an art event—it is a document of cultural resistance and creative solidarity. Amid the restrictive climate of Franco’s Spain, these individuals gathered to inaugurate a museum built not by state decree, but by artists themselves, fueled by shared ideals of artistic freedom, experimentation, and mutual respect.

The Museo de Arte Abstracto Español in Cuenca—set in the dramatic cliffside Hanging Houses—became a haven for modern art in a country that had long relegated its avant-garde to the margins. The artists in this photo not only filled the walls of the museum, but also shaped Spain’s path toward cultural renewal. In doing so, they helped catalyze a broader shift that would only fully blossom after the democratic transition in the late 1970s.

This moment, preserved in Nuño’s photograph, stands as a rare collective portrait of Spain’s postwar artistic conscience—a blend of brilliance, courage, and quiet defiance.

On the Picture:

Front Row (left to right):

  1. José María Yturralde – A young geometric abstractionist and later pioneer of kinetic and cybernetic art. In 1966, he was just beginning his career and would soon become closely associated with the “Cuenca school.”

  2. Jordi Teixidor – Another emerging painter exploring lyrical abstraction and minimalist tendencies, influenced by Zóbel and Sempere.

  3. Salvador Victoria – A painter of poetic, lyrical abstraction, with roots in postwar Paris and Spanish informalism.

  4. Eusebio Sempere – A key figure in Spanish optic and kinetic art; close friend of Zóbel and advisor to the museum’s collection.

  5. Fernando Zóbel – Artist, collector, and founder of the museum. His vision and generosity brought this project to life, creating a space for Spanish modern art to flourish in the heart of Spain.

  6. Jaime Burguillos – A painter and friend of the group, representing the broader Madrid art scene that supported the museum.

Back Row (unordered):

  • Gustavo Torner – Co-founder of the museum, native of Cuenca, known for his geometrical and material experimentation.

  • Lucio Muñoz – Master of abstract matter painting, famous for his use of burned wood and textured surfaces.

  • Julio López Hernández – A realist sculptor; his inclusion reflects the deep friendships between abstract and figurative artists of the time.

  • Carmen Laffón – Figurative painter of quiet, luminous still lifes and Andalusian landscapes; friend of the group.

  • Amalia Avia – Urban realist painter, wife of Lucio Muñoz, and part of the realist-artistic network surrounding the Madrid avant-garde.

  • Juana Mordó – Visionary gallerist and tireless promoter of contemporary Spanish art; a key ally in bringing abstract art to public attention.

  • José Guerrero – Abstract expressionist with deep ties to the U.S.; brought international prestige and color-field dynamism to the group.

  • Nicolás Sahuquillo – Local artist or supporter from Cuenca, representing the museum’s grounding in the regional cultural fabric.

  • Manuel Millares – A founding member of El Paso and a towering figure in Spanish informalism; his burlap-based works conveyed raw emotion and historical trauma.

  • Gerardo Rueda – Co-founder and curator of the museum; known for his restrained collages and refined geometric abstraction.

  • Martín Chirino – Sculptor of abstract iron forms, often referencing Canarian identity and ancient spirals.

  • Alberto Portera – Neurologist, writer, and cultural patron; emblematic of the intellectual supporters who stood behind Spain’s artistic modernizers.

  • Manuel Rivera – Painter of luminous wire mesh abstractions and fellow member of El Paso, representing the sculptural impulse within painting.

Casas Colgadas (Hanging Houses) of Cuenca (Spain).

Treix (France)

Treix, France.

In Treix, where cows outnumber folk,
The baker is the mayor, a fine pastry bloke.
He runs the boulangerie, town hall, and the café,
And knows all the gossip (and who’s late to pay).

The rooster named Pierre crows at half-past two,
Claims he’s the boss, and, well, it’s probably true.
Madame Dupont waters her plastic flowers,
So they look fresh, at all the hours.

It’s calm and it's quaint, not much here to see,
But Treix’s charm is as French as it can be!

(The above is not based on facts)