Excavations


... nothing is more essential to public interest than the preservation of public liberty.

- David Hume



Monday, February 2, 2026

Epstein had a French forerunner: the Stavisky Affair

Alexandre Stavisky, a con man who infiltrated French high society in the 1920s and 30s, sparked a scandal that led to his apparent suicide and government cover-up.

A criminal who cultivates relationships with the rich and powerful is treated lightly by the government. Conspiracy theories swirl around his apparent suicide when the law finally catches up with him. After his death, his ties to the country’s political leaders spark public anger and a media firestorm that threaten to bring down an administration.

It is the story of the Jeffrey Epstein scandal, of course, but it is also the story of a remarkably similar scandal that engulfed a nation nearly a century ago. And the parallels may help illuminate why the Epstein saga has resonated so deeply and has such staying power.

Alexandre Stavisky was a con man who wormed his way into the highest echelons of French society in the 1920s and 30s. He charmed multiple members of the elite — lawmakers, cabinet secretaries, judges, entertainers — and lived the high life by their side. He also got them to put their money into various “investments” backed by nothing but his vivid imagination. A mayor put Stavisky in charge of a municipal pawn shop and Stavisky sold shares backed by the riches inside — which included what he claimed were a German empress’ emeralds. They were in fact cheap glass.

Remarkably, Stavisky ran many of these schemes after having been arrested for fraud. The government released him and postponed his trial 19 times over six years, during which he continued his fraud under a different name. The public officials involved in his schemes swore they had no idea it was the same man.

When Stavisky’s pawn shop scheme collapsed, and the French government found it was on the hook for hundreds of millions of francs in worthless bonds, Stavisky fled. Police cornered him in a chalet in Chamonix, and as officers moved in, Stavisky shot himself.

At least, that was the official version of events. Speculation swirled that the government had murdered Stavisky to stop him from testifying against French political leaders. Stavisky’s wife told the press she doubted he had killed himself. A police inspector testified that Stavisky had been shot in the right temple, but the gun was in his left hand.

And that wasn’t all, as The New York Times reported: 

Then the trouble began in the Chamber of Deputies. It was found that the dossier on Stavisky had disappeared from the Ministry of Justice. There had been 1,200 documents ... they were all gone. This led to demands for the resignation of the Minister of Justice.

The scandal consumed the country. There were daily protests. The New Yorker correspondent Janet Flanner wrote:

To keep up with the Stavisky scandal — i.e., the French government — anyone would have to read the newspapers three hours a day, which is what everybody does. It is curious to be living in a land where the government is busy not governing… Daily, the concocted plot arrives at a peak of ingenuity, complication, villainy, and breathless surprise which simply cannot be beat — until the next day’s new twists beat it all hollow.

The New York Times summed it up in January 1934: “Temporarily the French have forgotten about Adolf Hitler. They now have Alexandre Stavisky on their minds.”

Just like the Epstein scandal, the Stavisky affair was about more than public corruption. It was about a perceived rot at the core of the entire political system: the idea that elected officials were living the high life with a fraudster during a global depression, and that they protected a criminal at the expense of the French people; that they might be going to extreme lengths to cover it all up. It was enough to radicalize even the most equanimous French citizen.

Fascist groups capitalized on the outrage, using the scandal to bolster their case that democracy itself was decadent and corrupt. (It did not hurt that Stavisky, like Epstein, was Jewish, playing into antisemitic tropes of Jews as swindlers and schemers.) Weeks after Stavisky’s death, French fascists led an assault on the French parliament that ultimately toppled the government.

That attack bears eerie resemblance to the Jan. 6 attack on the U.S. Capitol — and it similarly reordered national politics for years to come. 

We don’t yet know what impact the Epstein saga may have on the Trump administration. But if history is any guide, the outrage and conspiracy theories and combustible politics with which it has engulfed us will have long-term consequences for our democracy.

Source: This article was originally published on MSNBC.com

See: Maddow Blog | Déjà News: When an Epstein-like scandal toppled a government by Isaac-Davy Aronson, published Fri, September 5, 2025.

See also: David Clay Large, “Down with the Robbers: The Stavisky Affair and the Twilight of the Third Republic in France” in Between Two Fires: Europe’s Path in the 1930’s (New York: W.W. Norton & Co., 1990), pp. 23-58.

Tuesday, January 20, 2026

UPDATE: The “middle” rides again: Canada, Hegel, and Reconciliation

In a world of great power rivalry, the countries in-between have a choice: compete with each other for favour, or combine to create a third path with impact.  We shouldn’t allow the rise of hard power to blind us to the fact that the power of legitimacy, integrity, and rules will remain strong if we choose to wield it together.

~ Prime Minister Mark Carney at the World Economic Forum in Davos, January 20, 2026.

In Mark Carney, the “middle” rides again, and we see it clearly in his speech today in Davos, where he invoked the terms “middle powers”, “a third path”, and the “in-between”.  It’s a text co-written by Lester Pearson, Tony Blair, and Gilles Deleuze.  But the Canadian script has long been inspired by Hegel and accompanied by the dialogue of reconciliation.  Here, presumably for the benefit of my readers, is an updated version of my original post, dated August 03, 2025:

The Roots of “Reconciliation”, Or: A Reassessment of Hegel’s Canada

Much has been said of Hegel’s influence in Canada – maybe too much. Hegel’s philosophy is considered one of the reasons behind the landmark achievements of Canada’s Truth and Reconciliation Commission, which submitted its conclusions in 2015.  Then it should be no surprise that a related book of philosophy followed in 2018, Hegel and Canada: Unity of Opposites?

Taking titular inspiration from Patrick Anderson’s 1943 poem “Dialectics”, Hegel and Canada evokes the legacy of that mighty trinity of philosophers: Charles Taylor, Henry S. Harris, and Emil Fackenheim. It begins with a contribution by John Burbidge, Fackenheim’s student, and what follows are the voices of other intellectual companions. Hegel’s influence in Canada can be traced back to the nineteenth century, in particular to the philosopher John Watson (1847–1939), long at Queen’s University in Kingston, Ontario, a figure who also played an instrumental role in the founding of the United Church of Canada.

Canadians ruminate at length about how a Scottish thinker, Watson, ended up imprinting the nation, even, it appears, the Supreme Court of Canada, with a Hegelian, or dialectical, approach towards thinking. Did it have something to do with a sense of German Romanticism brooding amid once pristine Canadian forests? Was it a Scottish reading of Hegel, Burbidge’s position, that crossed the Atlantic into Canada and colonized our minds? In my view, it was neither of the above.

First, we must reckon with the fact that Hegel (1770-1831) had a huge influence in the nineteenth century, on Darwin and Marx, especially.  He was also in vogue elsewhere in the world during Watson’s own time, not just in Canada.  Italy had its Hegelian idealist in Benedetto Croce (1866-1952).  In England, F.H. Bradley (1846-1924) was its standard bearer.  And in the United States Josiah Royce (1855-1916) was representative.  What is also clear is that Germany was decidedly not Hegelian in the period from, say, 1870 to 1920 when, rather, neo-Kantianism was flourishing there.  We see evidence of this in the Weimar Republic.  Since Watson’s time, perhaps by means of the United Church itself, Hegelianism came to dominate intellectual culture in Canada to a degree that seems unparalleled in the Hegelian world (outside of, say, the former Soviet Union and Communist China).

However, it looks as if Hegelianism suited the Canadian way of thinking because we were already predisposed to the idea of “reconciliation” well in advance of the philosophy of Hegel and any “unity of opposites”. There were two rich historical sources to Canadian “reconciliation” – one known by a different name, the other not so well known. The first was the American War of Independence.  If we look at Thomas Paine’s widely-read revolutionary work Common Sense (1776), we see that he presented the American colonists at the time with two stark choices: “Reconciliation or Independance [sic]”. Thus, it was the United Empire Loyalists, faithful to the British Crown, who found a new home in Canada, in great numbers particularly around the Toronto area: in other words, they had “reconciled” themselves to the Crown.

A similar event occurred more than a century prior to the American Revolution. It followed the aftermath of the mid-seventeenth century English Civil Wars and the short-lived republican Protectorate under Oliver Cromwell. The Royal Charter by King Charles II, which launched the Hudson’s Bay Company in 1670, occurred just ten years into the Stuart Restoration. It brought the son of King Charles I (who was executed by axe) to the throne of England. It speaks volumes that the largest land grant in global history, made by a King who still espoused divine right, served as a foundation for Rupert’s Land (and 200 years later, Canada), thus establishing trading posts in Winnipeg, Calgary, Edmonton, Victoria and many other places.  What symbolically better way was there to take control and reconstitute the authority of the Crown?  The Hudson’s Bay Company was formed (and so, eventually, was Canada) after England had “reconciled” to the idea of itself as a Kingdom – and was no longer a fleeting republican “experiment” under Cromwell.

This suggests that the United Empire Loyalists were following in the footsteps of the HBC’s traders and explorers. Who knows what would have happened to Canada if this earlier Rupert’s Land “reconciliation” had not occurred beforehand. It is also interesting to note that, most recently, while the HBC faded from commercial history into bankruptcy, discomfitted Canadians were at the same time revisiting “reconciliation” with yet another King from England (Charles III), who read the speech from the throne from Ottawa on 27 May 2025 in the face of new threats to our sovereignty from Donald Trump.

It is important to consider Canada’s creation (as viewed via the Hudson’s Bay Company), at least in part, as a royal act.  And that it occurred while the spirit of “reconciliation” was on the rise in England. This was neither a Puritan inspiration nor a product of the subsequent Glorious Revolution (1688/89), which limited the monarchy, established a Bill of Rights, and rightfully signified the supremacy of Parliament. This in turn draws attention away from the presumed place of John Locke (1632-1704) and the influence of his political thought here.   Locke may actually have played a limited role in the formation of Canada, unlike in the USA (where his legacy is in decline as Enlightenment ideals continue to fade from the political imagination).

Borrowing from Louis B. Hartz’s famous thesis in The Founding of New Societies (1964), it could be argued that the establishment of the Hudson’s Bay Company represented the Stuart Restoration in Canada but one frozen in time. “For when a part of a European nation is detached from the whole of it, and hurled outward onto new soil, it loses the stimulus towards change that the whole provides. It lapses into a kind of immobility.” This is the reason why there is Puritanism in the USA, but no longer any in England; why Ontario was considered more Scottish than Scotland; and why the City of Victoria, British Columbia, seems stuck in time.

In other words, the leap from “reconciliation” to a Hegelian unity – or synthesis – of opposites was prepared by a distinctly Canadian predisposition for the Crown. We see it in the Hudson’s Bay Company, and we see it in the United Empire Loyalists who followed in its footsteps. We also see it in that Canadian neologism: “winning by acclamation” – that most modest of Canadian sayings. In the United States if one wins an election unopposed, one wins an election unopposed. If this happens in Canada, you are “acclaimed”. To suggest as much is to imply deference to the elected – and possibly, as well, to give a nod to divine authority, so-called, or: the Crown.

Consider also the motto of The Globe and Mail (“Canada’s National Newspaper”) as attributed to Junius: “The subject who is truly loyal to the Chief Magistrate will neither advise nor submit to arbitrary measures.” The word “subject”, followed by the words “truly loyal” and “the Chief Magistrate”, dwell on the experience of the United Empire Loyalists and displace George Brown’s (founder of The Globe) liberal “neither/nor” phraseology. It is because Americans see themselves as “citizens” that the idea of “acclamation” is not commonplace there. It is because Canadians still see themselves as “subjects” that the idea of “acclamation” is commonplace here.

Of course, liberalism and “reconciliation” can be also be complementary, despite the latter’s royalist implications and the connotations of Empire.  Canada’s Hegel culture was at its apex here when Lester Pearson was Prime Minister playing Canada’s role as the “middle power” in the era of Cold War extremes.  Anyone interested in Hegel and the idea of the “middle” will benefit from consulting the work of Emil Fackenheim, especially his Religious Dimensions in Hegel’s Thought (1967).  But Hegel, a notoriously difficult writer and thinker, could not have anticipated our Nobel-prize winning Prime Minister, nor the generous number of Canadian fellow philosophers, most of whom, when looking at Hegel and Canada, occupy positions at universities in Ontario, Quebec, or Nova Scotia. Of the fifteen different contributors to Hegel and Canada, only Barry Cooper of the University of Calgary lives west of the Ontario border.  The telling title of his article: “Hegel’s Laurentian Fragments.” 

So, it appears that Hegelianism per se is in some ways distinguishable from the earlier prevailing - and likely more widespread - sentiment for “reconciliation”.  Greater attention to the geographical nature of ideas would be of benefit here.  This, in turn, invites the thought that Hegelianism, which seems to be a preoccupation of central Canada, might also have stemmed from the “dialectical opposition” between what, in Hegel’s day and age, became Upper and Lower Canada – a possible third source of historical “reconciliation”.  And, Hegel, as an intellectual participant of the early nineteenth century, was also a keen observer of ceaseless forms of political “activity and retro-activity”, especially when looking at France since the Revolution of 1789.  Hegel sought unity in mutual understanding, and Canadians found Hegel in our search for “reconciliation”.

In broad brush-strokes then, Hegel’s thought is to Canada what Adam Smith’s Wealth of Nations (1776), or Locke’s Two Treatises of Government (written 1680–1683) were to the USA, and maybe what Marx’s Communist Manifesto (1848) was to China – not comparable revolutionary texts by any means, but an inherently reciprocal philosophy which first found attraction here in a desire to reconcile with the Crown.

Friday, January 9, 2026

Trump as King Minos, mythical ruler of Crete, also son of Zeus

Minos, according to tradition, was the first person to organize a navy.  He controlled the greater part of what is now called the Hellenic Sea [Aegean Sea]; he ruled over the Cyclades, in most of which he founded the first colonies, putting his sons in as governors after having driven out the Carians.  And it is reasonable to suppose that he did his best to put down piracy in order to secure his own revenues.[1]

Thucydides, History of the Peloponnesian War (circa 431-411 BC)



[1] Thucydides, History of the Peloponnesian War, tr. Rex Warner (New York: Penguin, 1972), p. 37 [I.4].

Thursday, January 1, 2026

Of the corruption of the Moral Sentiments: Adam Smith & Plato

This disposition to admire, and almost to worship, the rich and powerful, and to despise, or, at least, to neglect persons of poor and mean condition, though necessary both to establish and maintain the distinction of ranks and the order of society, is, at the same time, the great and most universal cause of the corruption of our moral sentiments.  That wealth and greatness are often regarded with the respect and admiration which are due only to wisdom and virtue; and that the contempt, of which vice and folly are the only proper objects, is often most unjustly bestowed upon poverty and weakness, has been the complaint of moralists in all ages.[1]

Adam Smith, The Theory of the Moral Sentiments (1759)

 

Then comes the moment, my dear Glaucon, when everything is at stake.  And that is why it should be our first care to abandon all other forms of knowledge, and seek and study that which will show us how to perceive and find the man who will give us the knowledge and the ability to tell a good life from a bad one and always choose the better course so far as we can; we must reckon up all that we have said in this discussion of ours, weighing the arguments together and apart to find out how they affect the good life, and see what effects, good or ill, good looks have when accompanied by poverty or wealth or by some different disposition of character, and what again are the effects of the various blends of birth and rank, strength and weakness, cleverness and stupidity, and all other qualities inborn or acquired.  If we take all this into account and remember how the soul is constituted, we can choose between the worse life and the better, calling the one that leads us to become more unjust the worse, and the one that leads us to become more just the better.  Everything else we can let go, for we have seen that this is the best choice both for living and dead.  This belief we must resist with an iron grip when we enter the other world, so that we may be unmoved there by the temptation of wealth or other evils, and avoid falling into the life of a tyrant or other evil-doer and perpetrating unbearable evil and suffering worse, but may rather know how to choose the middle-course, and avoid so far as we can, in this life and the next, the extremes on either hand.  For this is the surest way to the highest human happiness.[2] 

Plato, The Republic (circa 375 BC)



[1] Adam Smith, The Theory of the Moral Sentiments, ed. by Ryan Patrick Hanley (New York: Penguin, 2009), pp. 73-74 [Part I, Section I, Chapter III].

[2] Plato, The Republic, tr. and intro. by Desmond Lee, 2nd ed. (Harmondsworth, UK: Penguin, 1974), pp. 452-453 [Book X: 618c-619b

Wednesday, December 24, 2025

Burke: On a partnership between generations

Society is indeed a contract.  Subordinate contracts for objects of mere occasional interest may be dissolved at pleasure – but the state ought not to be considered as nothing better than a partnership agreement in a trade of pepper and coffee, calico or tobacco, or some other such low concern, to be taken up for a little temporary interest, and to be dissolved by the fancy of the parties.  It is to be looked on with other reverence; because it is not a partnership in things subservient only to the gross animal existence of a temporary and perishable nature.  It is a partnership in all science; a partnership in all art; a partnership in every virtue, and in all perfection.  As the ends of such a partnership cannot be obtained in many generations, it becomes a partnership not only between those who are living, but between those who are living, those who are dead, and those who are yet to be born.[1]

Edmund Burke, Reflections of the Revolution in France (1790)

 



[1] Edmund Burke, Reflections on the Revolution in France in Two Classics of the French Revolution (New York: Anchor, 1989), p. 110. 

Sunday, December 14, 2025

An uncomfortable relationship: why Evangelicals support Israel

Israel’s Unbelief

What then shall we say?  That the Gentiles, who did not pursue righteousness, have obtained it, a righteousness that is by faith; but Israel, who pursued a law of righteousness, has not attained it.  Why not?  Because they pursued it not in faith but as it were by works.  They stumbled over the “stumbling stone.”  As it is written:

“See, I lay in Zion a stone that causes men to stumble
and a rock that makes them fall,
And the one who trusts in him will never be put to shame.”

Brothers, my heart’s desire and prayers to God for the Israelites is that they may be saved.  For I can testify about them that they are zealous for God, but their zeal is not based on knowledge.  Since they did not know the righteousness that comes from God, and sought to establish their own, they did not submit to God’s righteousness.  Christ is the end of the law so that there may be righteousness for everyone who believes.

All Israel Will Be Saved

I do not want you to be ignorant of this mystery, brothers, so that you may not be conceited: Israel has experienced a hardening in part until the full number of Gentiles has come in.  And so all Israel will be saved, as it is written.

“The deliverer will come from Zion;
he will turn godlessness away from Jacob,
And this is my covenant with them
when I take away their sins.”

As far as the gospel is concerned, they are enemies on your account; but as far as election is concerned, they are loved on account of the patriarchs, for God’s gifts and his call are irrevocable.  Just as you were at one time disobedient to God have now received mercy as a result of their disobedience, so that they too have become disobedient in order that they may now receive mercy as a result of God’s mercy to you.  For God has bound all men over to disobedience so that they may have mercy on them all.

The Bible, Romans 9-11[1]



[1] The Bible, New International Version (Grand Rapids, Michigan: Zondervan, 2001), pp. 627-629.