What can the Maid of Orleans offer to the American
voter as we face the opportunities
and uncertainties of the next millennium?

Patriotism, politics and St. Joan
By John P. Fraunces

Once again the perennial mystery of St. Joan of Arc has struck a chord with an American filmmaker. This latest full-length production, The Messenger, retells the story of Joan, or Jeannette, as she was known in her village, a girl who lived almost six hundred years ago, and whose life span lasted only a few months beyond her 19th birthday. In his History of the English Speaking People, Winston Churchill spoke highly of the French heroine whose faith and courage ended the English presence on the European continent, opining that one like Joan appears on the stage of history once every thousand years.

The story of the Maid of Orleans has been told so often and in so many languages that she has practically become a European folk hero. At seventeen she became a soldier, at eighteen a prisoner of war, and at the tender age of nineteen a condemned heretic, burnt in the public square of Rouen, the headquarters of the English government in France.

But why should Americans care about the resurrection of Joan and her tale from the misty legends of Medieval France? What relevance can her life have to the American political system? One of America’s greatest literary figures certainly cared. In fact, Mark Twain cared enough to write the historical novel, Joan of Arc, at the turn of the last century. In his book’s introduction, Twain describes Joan as “unique” and “the only entirely unselfish person whose name appears in profane history.” Twain actually spent several years in France researching her life and times and published an authentic and passionate account of her life.

Unfortunately, critics of the time disliked Twain’s work because it was perceived as exalting the feminine sex and providing intellectual weight to the nascent Feminist movement. Having built a reputation as a cynic and a pacifist, his readership also considered the book out of character, and consequently, Joan of Arc never brought Twain financial success. Twain never saw any contradiction between the “Maid in armor” and his own pacifism, a commonality that he shared with Pope Benedict XV, who canonized Joan in 1920. Regardless of public opinion, America’s favorite storyteller believed in Joan and considered her his only true hero.

Nearly a century later the American public, which has grown increasingly apathetic toward the political process, may want to discover the reasons for Twain’s devotion to Joan of Arc. As scandals and immoral conduct flourish at our highest levels of government, as special interests dominate political decisions and compromise national security, perhaps the time has come for voters to demand and expect that elected officials conduct themselves with honesty and integrity.

Joan of Arc witnessed similar corruption in the court of Charles VII, a corruption that betrayed France and abandoned Joan to the disgrace and pain of the fire. At their first meeting in the castle fortress of Chinon, Joan told King Charles that he was indeed the rightful heir to the French throne, but that God was the true King of France. Two years later at her Trial of Condemnation, Joan again demonstrated her loyalty to God by affirming to her ecclesiastical judges that she would always be obedient to the Church, but that God must be served first.

In conscience, Joan understood that her visions and voices were her “brothers in Paradise,” sent from God to instruct and guide her in his plan for the French nation. As a political and military figure, Joan gave up her own desires in order to do God’s will in the service of her countrymen. This is the meaning of Christian citizenship, and something worth imitating for those who believe in a personal Creator, even in our pluralistic society.

It is likely that the sensationalism surrounding Joan’s story has perennially obfuscated the truth and significance of her life to the public. Cecil B. De Mille’s 1915 film, Joan the Woman, was an example of his early screen epics and the first American film on the French heroine. His production created a new Joan of Arc, which used the inspirational value of her life as a propaganda tool against the Germans who invaded France at the beginning of the First World War. De Mille wanted to incite American public opinion to enter the First World War on the side of France and Great Britain.

After the Great War, the Irish humorist and playwright, George Bernard Shaw, wrote a play entitled St. Joan in which she is portrayed as a prodigy of common sense and the first “Protestant” saint. Not surprisingly, this created consternation among some Catholic intellectuals because Joan had recently been declared a saint of the Church. However, the play was a success, and later it was made into a 1957 movie starring Jean Seberg.

In mid century, Victor Fleming produced a historically accurate film, Joan of Arc, starring Ingrid Bergman. Unfortunately, the original movie of more than two hours was cut and edited for commercial reasons after its 1949 New York debut. Over the years, this full-length version has probably been lost or destroyed by neglect. Fleming’s production was a big budget Hollywood extravanganza that used the latest special effects available at the time. It was fairly successful at the box office and won an Oscar nomination for Ms. Bergman’s performance as Joan, but it was not the moneymaker that its producers had expected. The rise of Existentialism in America since the 1960s has led critics to conclude that the film was overly sentimental and unnecessarily devout.

The Messenger is the last film about Joan in the 20th century. Before seeing it, I asked myself if this screenplay would be a politically correct production made for the present moment as was De Mille’s, Joan the Woman, or would it be authentic in the same sense as Twain’s book and Fleming’s film. I had hoped that the film would not only be historically correct, but that it would also show the relevancy of Joan’s life to our own as we approach the twenty-first century after the birth of Christ. As expected, The Messenger did have graphic special effects. Predictably, however, they were deployed in the same manner one would expect with the usual adventure film—as a shock mechanism intended to rivet the viewers’ attention and displace substantive dialogue. The historical inaccuracies are several and substantial à la De Mille and thus a “New Age Joan” is created.

De Mille is not alone. Voltaire’s 18th century play and Tchaikowsky’s 19th century opera use Joan’s name, but they create a fictional character to please their audiences. The Messenger does the same thing, and for the same reason. While this may disappoint the sticklers for historical accuracy and those who are devoted to the memory of Saint Joan, it should hardly be surprising. Joan’s complete story has not been told because it requires an uncompromising belief in her “Voices” who told her what Christian politicians must do to serve God in the performance of their civic duties. Unlike other historical figures, Joan requires that we believe her at her literal word, and this has been a stumbling block for most of her biographers including those of the Catholic faith. The Inquisition that nullified her conviction of heresy believed that she spoke in allegories about the sign from heaven that she presented to Charles to bolster his wavering faith in her. Even some who argued for her canonization did not believe that she always spoke literally or that she correctly understood her role in the deliverance of France. However, in all of the voluminous trial data and contemporary chronicles, Joan was never cited as speaking in allegories.

Unfortunately, Joan’s short life reflects more what her biographers are able (or willing) to believe rather than what she said about herself. It is not her courage, but her relationship with God that makes her bad box office and the reason a fictitious character is typically portrayed that is more palatable to our cinematic taste.

It seems ironic that the patriotic virtues that Joan stood for have been lost among the propaganda of French nationalism, the ideology of secular humanism, and alienation of the sexes wrought by modern feminism. The “Maid” was the essence of simplicity. In fact it was her simple and undivided heart that led to her betrayal and condemnation, surely the material of a Shakespearean tragedy. Her posthumous Trial of Rehabilitation in 1456 proved that she was perfectly submissive to the Church, completely loyal to King Charles, and dutifully obedient to her parents.

Joan’s canonization, which is sometimes called her fourth and last trial, demonstrated that her heroic love for God and neighbor were clearly manifest in her political principles. Echoed in the writing of her contemporary, Jean Gerson wrote, “The actions of the Maid had nothing whatsoever to do with the faith. She introduced nothing new into doctrine. One the contrary, she exemplified faith in its simplest, its most lively, its most orthodox form, and had applied it to practical affairs in a way that was edifying to all.”

The first presidential campaign of the new century is upon us. For most Americans, it is a time of unprecedented prosperity but also a time of great uncertainty about the moral health of the country and what we have become as a people. Voter apathy and consistently low turnout at the polls reflects the serious disconnect between government and its citizenry. What can the Maid of Orleans offer to the American voter as we face the opportunities and uncertainties of the next millennium?

Once again Mark Twain calls Joan of Arc forth as a political model by contrasting her to the politicians of her time. He wrote: “She was truthful when lying was the common speech of men; she was honest when honesty was become a lost virtue; she was a keeper of promises when the keeping of a promise was expected of no one; . . . She was steadfast when stability was unknown, and honorable in an age which had forgotten what honor was; she was a rock of conviction in an age when men believed in nothing and scoffed at all things; she was unfailingly true in an age that was false to the core; . . . She was spotlessly pure in mind and body when society in the highest places was foul in both.”

Perhaps the time has come for Americans to echo once more the prayer of Abraham Lincoln at Gettysburg “that this nation under God will have a new birth of freedom,” a new freedom that serves the Creator first and brings to life the inscription on our currency “In God we trust.”

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