Marx and Napoleon III
5 May—Today some misguided people celebrate Karl Marx’s 206th birthday. It’s nothing to celebrate, of course, but none the less worth noting, given how his disciples and other communist sociopaths have really screwed the world at large.
Also, today, being 5 May, is celebrated as 5 May or the Fifth of May but called Cinco de Mayo in Spanish, which merely means 5 May or the Fifth of May. Contrary to ill-informed Yanqui belief, it’s not Mexico’s Independence Day; that’s 16 September (Dieciséis de Septiembre), but not known as such. Unlike July Fourth for Independence Day.
Cinco de Mayo is the date in 1862 on which the Mexicans defeated the French (Second Empire) at the Battle of Puebla. The celebration of the great event is more popular in the United States than in Mexico. But it is celebrated enthusiastically in Puebla de Zaragoza (Zaragoza was added to the city’s name to honor the victorious Mexican general who died from an illness a few months after the battle).
Just over a year later, however (17 May 1863), at the Second Battle of Puebla, the French defeated the Mexicans. It’s understandable that Diecisiete de Mayo isn’t celebrated. But neither is Dix-Sept Mai celebrated in France or anywhere else.
It’s worth noting that in 1865, right after the end of the Civil War, the United States stuck its nominally neutral nose in Mexican affairs by lending guns and money to the country’s liberals. Of course. At the same time, Generals Ulysses Grant and Philip Sheridan, having no more Americans to fight, began covert support of the Mexican liberals along the Texas-Mexico border (now defended by Texas conservative xenophobes)—allegedly behind the back of Secretary of State William Seward, who had to appear to maintain diplomatic neutrality.
Long story short, pro-French Mexican conservatives and French Emperor Napoleon III saw the Spanglish handwriting on the wall and the French troops were pulled out in 1866. Imagine having our 51st state called Mexique.
Napoleon III (commonly with no acute accent), by the way, was born Charles-Louis Napoléon Bonaparte in 1808. He was the Napoleon’s nephew. Among the pertinent facts of his eventful biography, he has the distinction of having been the first president of France from 1848 to 1852—as Louis Napoleon (commonly with no acute accent)—and the last monarch of France from 1852 to 1870, when he was deposed following a successful and popular reign. He died in England (guess why) in 1873.
Who ever heard of a republic becoming a monarchy? Certainly it usually works the other way, but it has happened, if rarely. More to the point, when does a president become an emperor? Considering Donald Trump and his horde of militant morons, it’s certainly something to be afraid of—whether or not he’s elected to a second term . . .