Originally published at crisis magazine
As Cardinal Richelieu lay dying, having successfully served as chief architect and advisor to the French monarchy, he was asked if he had forgiven his enemies, of which there were a great many scattered across France and the face of Europe. “There are none left,” he replied, suggesting that he’d either killed or simply outlasted them all.
So much for the meteoric rise of a once obscure member of the lesser nobility, to such dizzying heights as Prince of the Roman Catholic Church and Minister of State to King Louis XIII. As for myself, neither in matters civil nor religious have I ever done anything remotely comparable to the achievements of the celebrated cardinal. I can’t even speak French. Not two sentences of a language so lovely, I am told, that he established a learned academy charged with ensuring its preservation.
However, in one respect at least, I do believe I have a leg up on old Richelieu, an advantage which, by his own admission, he could never claim. And that is the fact that, so far as I know, I have no enemies. Certainly not among the dead, which means I needn’t forgive anyone on the other side for
