Today, Thursday, November 13, at 6:15 AM, two investigators from the Police Judiciaire in Paris, having arrived in Vichy yesterday evening, burst into my house accompanied by three uniformed policemen, not without deliberately making a great deal of noise. This caused a severe nervous shock to my wife, who, at 77, suffers from a heart condition; I now fear the possible consequences. For the next hour and a half the armed policemen kept her, her brother and his wife (the couple had happened to be spending the night at our house) confined in a room, forbidding them to leave it.
The police’s loutish behaviour was all the more inadmissible as the two investigators (officiers de police judiciaire – OPJ’s) knew of my wife’s poor state of health. They had already visited us last January 24. That morning, upon reporting at Vichy police station to answer a summons, I was immediately placed in custody. When told that, after a questioning session, the policemen would be taking me back to my house and carrying out a search, I’d informed the OPJ’s that, as my wife had a weak heart, I had kept the matter of my summons a secret. I told them that at a certain time soon my wife would be leaving the house, and requested that they wait till then to show up for their search. However, they paid no heed to my warning and, with their untimely arrival, they had already given my wife a cardiac trauma.
This November 13 I hauled them over the coals. I told them what was what. And they calmed down.
The three men in uniform went away at 7:30 AM. The OPJ’s, a young woman and a youngish man, performed their search from 6:20 to 10:30.
I refused to answer their questions. For nearly thirty years I’ve been in the habit of responding to all questions from the police with the words: “No answer”, even if the questions are harmless ones. I refuse to collaborate with the French police and justice system in their repression of historical revisionism.
Once again, my two OPJ’s drew a blank. Once again, they found neither the computer nor the documents sought.
They came bearing five (!) warrants, the most important of these concerning my participation at the Tehran conference of December 11-12, 2006. The charges originated with then President Jacques Chirac and an essentially Jewish “anti-racist” organisation.
I ask indulgence of my correspondents beforehand should they find that, for a certain period, I leave their messages or letters unanswered. I am once more entering a time of turbulence. I have still not found a lawyer to replace Eric Delcroix, who has retired. By the way, I shall also ask my contacts not to come forth with recommendations of this or that reputedly courageous lawyer: there are in fact only cowards and inveterate swaggerers. (A model of the type: Jacques Vergès. It pains me to note how few people have seen through the act he puts on. His pet artifice, clumsy as can be, is anti-racist one-upmanship. “Barbie a racist? You must be joking! No one was ever more racist than the French colonialists or the Australians, exterminators of the Tasmanian race.”)
In France as elsewhere at this moment, the Jews are demanding a greater crackdown on revisionism. As long as the State of Israel persists with its repeated provocations of the Palestinians, it will be putting itself in growing danger and, eventually, bringing about, whether it likes it or not, the Zionist regime’s disappearance. For the time being, that regime must at all costs safeguard its number one propaganda weapon: the lie that is the religion of “the Holocaust” with its alleged homicidal gas chambers.
We may expect to be treated like Palestinians. For my part, I will not give in. People sometimes find fault with me for forgetting, in my struggle, that a man’s first duty is to preserve the safety of his wife and children. But that, perhaps, is only a man’s second duty. Perhaps the first duty of a man is to be a man.
I do not lose sight of the fact than my lot remains enviable when compared with that of a good many other revisionists such as, for example, Ernst Zündel and Germar Rudolf in Germany, or Wolfgang Fröhlich and Gerd Honsik in Austria, or Fredrick Töben in London. I also think of the heroic Frenchman Vincent Reynouard, his wife and their seven children.