Note that the tone is set right away, with the reference to "barbarians" in the title. We move on to the first paragraph, which establishes what a paradise is France (if you're one of the wealthy white German tourists who vacation there, or one of the wealthy white English people who buy second homes there)...only to be jarred into harsh reality with the second paragraph, which tells us that young children are ill-behaved and that the bourgeoisie are fretting about crime. That's a real new development there, isn't it? The middle-class getting all het up about criminal minorities? Stop the presses!
Next we move on to the big scare-tactic personal anecdote, where Dalrymple tells us of having witnessed first-hand a gang of Romanian toughs who were -- gasp -- vandalizing a parking meter in broad daylight! Only the Greatest Generation of French elderly stood up to them, and even they were forced to back off when the "murderously angry" foreigners waved screwdrivers at them. Where's Bernard Goetz when you need him?
Paragraph following comes the obligatory mockery of a series of unmade charges. Only the elderly possessed the moral clarity to confront these swarthy Slavic toughs (but not, apparently, the self-preserving practicality to simply phone the police), says Dalrymple. He then goes on to belittle a whole raft of defenses of the thugs' behavior that no one made: they're poor immigrants so their behavior should be excuses. They've experienced too much horror in their lives already. The polluters driving the cars that make parking meters necessary are the REAL criminals. It's not clear who exactly said any of these things, but it's very clear that the author does not approve.
We then get the usual litany of horrific crimes, which are entirely alien to a huge industrialized city and about which something must be done. The police are alternately praised as the brave men in blue who make a free society possible and condemned as a bunch of soft-handed slackers who would rather let a carjacker go free than give up their ill-earned vacation days. It's all very Archie Bunker if Archie were a jet-setting American pundit who knows what's best for France. He goes on to tell of many other shocking crimes, many of them in "prosperous" (read: white, wealthy, French) suburbs where previously crime was simply a rumor. Perhaps aware that all of his supporting evidence thus far has been anecdotal, he switches to statistics illustrating the increase in French crime with this baffling preface: "The official figures for this upsurge, doctored as they no doubt are, are sufficiently alarming." This is a bit hard to understand; if the government was doctoring the numbers, wouldn't they doctor them to make it look like crime was going down instead of up?
The statistics, presented free of context, are alarming indeed -- crime appears to be on a dramatic upswing in la belle France. Presented in context, though, they're considerably less lurid; Paris still has a crime rate about average for Europe, and downright mild compared to that of London. And it's virtually crime-free compared to any big city you care to name in law-and-order-crazed America. But let that rest; Dalrymple has some wide, sweeping work ahead of him.
"Where does the increase in crime come from?", he begins his next paragraph. The answer: darkies and poor people. West Africans, Arabs, and the working class are fingered as the real culprits, although the origin of their criminal ways is left largely unexplored. And every attempt by liberal do-gooders to help them has only made things worse: the construction of public housing has meant more places for vipers to nest, while the billions spent on public transportation has given these carless brutes easy access to the wealthy neighborhoods where decent people live.
Then the floodgates open: after a perfunctory gesture of mild capitalist culpability (the industrial production of the 1950s through the 1970s, which created a "need" for "cheap labor" that evaporated once the service economy made first-world industrial production a joke, is gone, leaving the children of the hard-working immigrants behind that production with no prospect of decent work), we get the same ol' horror show of bourgeois terror. The slums are "violent urban hells", prowled by near-savage apes who exude entirely the wrong flavor of masculinity. Their anger comes not from systemic oppression, scorn, racism, or the workings of a social economy that makes them expendable outcasts, but from liberalism: their jungle manhood is frustrated by dependence on Mama State. Since Dalrymple would naturally reject the notion that the private sector has any obligation to help them, and argues that the public sector can only hurt them, he shouldn't act so surprised that they just wander around all day, knifing pregnant women and setting their few meager possessions on fire.
Worse yet, like colored people everywhere, they are susceptible to the deadly allure of rap music. And, as they do in every other sector of life, liberals only make things worse by claiming this "vile rubbish" is natural artistic expression; their belief that "the savages are forever noble" leads them to "praise such degraded and brutal pornography". And thus, he concludes with a boastful flourish, "cowardly multiculturalism thus makes itself the handmaiden of anti-Western extremism."
Naturally, the liberal French economic structure is to blame: coddled labor unions discourage the sort of innovation that might provide jobs for these hopeless people, economic micromanagement discourages risk-taking of the sort that has done nothing to help America's underclass, and the state fusses over providing the ne'er-do-wells with "their education, their medical care, and the payment of subsidies for them to do nothing" when they should be beating them with clubs.
But the true horror isn't just looted parking meters (as an aside, shouldn't Dalrymple encourage the looting of parking meters? All that money goes to the state, to fund their misguided social aid), horrible crazy rap music, and bent car antennas. Since so many of France's sinister underclass are Arab or African Muslims, how long before they start stockpiling Khalashnikovs and take over the country from within? How long before a rising tide of color, to borrow a phrase from one of our own nation's most influential books on immigration, drowns out the liberty and fraternity forever? How long before the French -- who "have traditionally preferred to negotiate with, or give in to, terrorists" -- must deal with a 9/11 of their own, executed by outer-city animals drunk on hip-hop, "permanently condemned to unemployment by the system that contemptuously feeds and clothes you, and surrounded by a contemptible nihilistic culture of despair, violence, and crime", and under the sway of "a handful of Zacharias Moussaouis"?
Alas, it may be too late. With the private sector blissfully free of any social responsibility, and the state concerned only with hatefully ensuring that poor people have food and clothes, there is no one to help. No one but the men in blue, whose truncheons have always fixed everything.