Robert Tombs is professor emeritus of French history at the University of Cambridge, and a fellow of St John’s College; for his work, the French government awarded him the Ordres des Palmes academiques in 2007.
Together, in 2021, Nigel and Robert created History Reclaimed - a website and online resource dedicated to countering censorship of historical texts in modern universities. Combining their talents, the two are due to release their first collaborative book - Our Island’s Story: A Better Story About Britain - this October.
Why did we invite him on?
Robert joined us recently, alongside fellow historian and recurring guest Nigel Biggar, to discuss the harm done by ‘woke’ historic education at all levels of Western schooling. It was a hugely popular conversation, and one of our favourites of the year.
Unfortunately, the subject did not give us the opportunity to appropriately explore his area of expertise - France.
It’s a subject we’ve explored on the show before, but only in passing. We’ve long wanted to host a more general discussion about Britain’s complex relationship/rivalry with the European power, and Robert seemed the ideal candidate to join us.
In just 80 minutes, we chart a thousand years of European history. From Napoleon to Brexit, Robert weaves an incredible narrative that connects seemingly disparate moments, answering long-held questions of identity, nation, and alliance.
What did we learn?
”Both England and France, and to some extent Ireland, Scotland and Wales, forged their identities through conflict. As a great 19th-century French historian once said: ‘The French came to understand they were French through fighting the English.’”
On some level, the inverse is also true. A key part of how the British see themselves is woven with a mostly friendly rivalry with the French. But why is that? Is it purely a result of geography, or is there something more at play?
”England and France have been major players on the world stage for a thousand years. Often as rivals, often as enemies. They became obsessed with each other, despite being rather similar. They consider themselves nations in decline, or even in crisis, and each is rather keen that the other should be doing worse. You look at the British press, and it talks about fires in France, riots in France, etc. Meanwhile, the French press is always reporting on British unemployment and our inability to maintain a PM. The implication is always: ‘Aren’t we better off here?’”
One of the best case studies of the differences between England and France can be seen in the French Revolution at the end of the 18th century, and how it contrasts with Britain’s establishment of the Commonwealth in the century prior.
In Britain, Charles I is executed and Oliver Cromwell (something of an English equivalent to Napoleon) is installed as de facto leader in 1649 . Quickly, things are reversed, and the nation returns to having a royal family. Meanwhile, France radically reinvented everything, from the election process to the measurement system, and stick with it.
This, Robert proves, is something of a myth.
”The French revolution was not the end of the French monarchy; they had two more goes at restoring it, and these efforts went on until 1870. And there’s no reason to think it wouldn’t have carried on if they hadn’t been invaded by Germany. War is often what makes revolutions possible - the state proves it is defeated and no longer capable of defeated the country. Sometimes it just goes, other times it’s overthrown, and that’s the revolution.”
That’s not to say the Revolution wasn’t influential on Britain. Without it, you don’t get Napoleon, and without Napoleon, Britain is a very different nation indeed.
“Napoleon was the last Frenchman to transform Britain. The last to have a truly major effect. He forced Britain to mobilise itself in ways it never had before, to quite an extraordinary extent … Something like 40% of all British men were doing some sort of British service - that’s World War-levels of mobilisation. You could never put that cork back in the bottle. People see themselves as citiziens, and therefore they should have some sort of say in politics.”
Another milestone in European history to have a similar effect on the national psyche came in the 20th century. Twice, in the form of two World Wars. Regarding the latter, France’s participation (or perceived lack thereof) is a seismic sticking point in its relationship to Britain, which prides itself on being the bulwark against a fascist takeover of the developed world. Or so the story goes. Is that fair?
