Éric Zemmour's Relentless Battle for the Survival of French Culture (Video)

Few would endure what Éric Zemmour has faced—threats to his life, physical attacks, relentless smears, and state persecution—yet he never wavers. Zemmour fights for France with an unwavering resolve, driven by a love for his country that transcends personal safety or public opinion. His battle is for the survival of French culture, a culture that has been eroded by mass immigration, political betrayal, and the systematic dismantling of France’s national identity.

The former French presidential candidate and leader of the Reconquête (Reconquest) party did not choose to enter politics for fame or power; he stepped into the arena because France was disappearing before his eyes. The streets he once knew, the language he heard, the culture that shaped him—all seemed to be fading under the weight of foreign influence and internal neglect. It was no longer just a political issue but a fight for the soul of France.

In his powerful words, Zemmour captures what so many French people feel—a deep, unsettling sense of dispossession. The country they once called home has become unfamiliar, their traditions and values under siege. While others remain silent, fearful of the consequences, Zemmour continues to speak out, calling for the restoration of France’s greatness despite the personal cost.

For years, you have been seized, oppressed, and pursued by the same feeling. A strange, pervasive sense of dispossession. You walk through the streets of your cities, and you no longer recognize them. You look at your screen, and someone speaks to you in a strange, foreign language. You see and hear advertising posters, television series, football matches, movies, shows, songs, and even in your children’s schoolbooks.

You take the metro and train, you go to stations and airports, you wait for your daughter or son at the school gate, you accompany your mother to the emergency room at the hospital, you stand in line at the post office or the employment office, you wait at a police station or in a courtroom, and you get the impression that you are no longer in the country you know. Do you remember the country you knew as a child? Do you remember the country your parents described to you? Do you remember the country you see in films or books?

The country of Joan of Arc and Louis XIV? The country of Bonaparte and General de Gaulle? The country of knights and beggars? The country of Victor Hugo and Chateaubriand? The country of Pascal and Descartes? The country of the fables of La Fontaine, the characters of Molière, and the verses of Racine, the country of Notre-Dame de Paris and village church towers, the country of Gavroche and Cosette, the country of barricades and Versailles, the country of Pasteur and Lavoisier, the country of Voltaire and Rousseau, Clemenceau and the Poilus of 1914, de Gaulle and Jean Moulin, the country of Gabin and Delon, Brigitte Bardot and Belmondo, Johnny and Aznavour, Brassens and Barbara, the films of Sautet and the films of Verneuil. This country, both luminous and brilliant, this country that is both literary and scientific, this country that is so intelligent and whimsical, the country of unity and nuclear power plants that invented cinema and the automobile.”

Our culture has been dispossessed and oppressed for years.’
A few years ago, polemicist and writer Eric Zemmour announced his entry into the political arena. Why? In an extensive argument, he described how French culture is disappearing and that he feels called to restore France to its former glory. Read his argument below.

This country that you desperately seek everywhere, that your children long for without ever having known it, this country that you cherish and is disappearing. You haven’t moved, and yet you feel like you are no longer at home. You haven’t left your country, but it’s as if your country has left you. You feel like a stranger in your own land. You are internal exiles. For a long time, you thought you were the only one who saw, heard, thought, and feared. You didn’t dare say it, you were ashamed of your feelings.

You haven’t left your country, but it’s as if your country has left you. You feel like a stranger in your own land. You are internal exiles. For a long time, you didn’t dare say what you saw, and most of all, you didn’t dare to see what you saw. Then, you told your wife, your husband, your children, your father, your mother, your friends, your colleagues, your neighbors. And then you told strangers, and you realized that your feeling of dispossession was shared by everyone. France was no longer France, and everyone realized it. Of course, you were scorned.

The powerful, the elites, the self-satisfied, the journalists, the politicians, the academics, the sociologists, the union members, the religious authorities told you that it was all an illusion, that it was all wrong, that it was all bad. But over time, you understood that they were the ones misleading you, that they were the ones who were wrong, that they were the ones who hurt you. The disappearance of our civilization is not the only problem gnawing at us, even though it overshadows all other problems. Immigration is not the cause of all our problems, even though it aggravates them all. The third-worldization of our country and our people impoverishes them as much as it disrupts them, ruins them as much as it torments them.”