In the heart of Paris on a crisp autumn morning, Bernard-Henri Lévy—“BHL” to the French—settles into his favorite table at an elite restaurant, casting off shades and exuding effortless cool in an open white shirt, every bit the archetypal French intellectual. Lévy, renowned for his philosophic flair, famous friends, and full-throated opinions, is here for a candid exchange on the state of the world. And in typical BHL style, the man doesn’t hold back.
For him, the globe is already in the throes of a new world war, with Ukraine and Israel as front lines and Taiwan likely the next battleground. The foes? A coalition of authoritarian states and radical groups, including China, Russia, and Iran, he says, are united against what he calls the “alleged empire” of America and its democratic allies. A seasoned war correspondent and prolific author—he’s lost count of his books, somewhere around forty—BHL sees himself not as a journalist but as a philosopher-warrior engaged in “grand reportage.”
Lévy’s latest release, Israel Alone, was sparked by the brutal events of October 7, 2023, a day he describes as a turning point for Israel and Jewish communities globally. Despite his criticism of Israeli leadership—he calls Benjamin Netanyahu a “terrible prime minister”—he is deeply troubled by rising antisemitism in the West, which he attributes in part to divisive political figures like France’s far-left leader Jean-Luc Mélenchon. For BHL, wokeism and antisemitism go hand-in-hand, fueling identity-driven separatism, which he deems the antithesis of inclusion. “They claim for safe spaces, separation of identities, borders between identities. That’s not inclusion; that is the opposite,” he says, denouncing what he calls a corruption of Derrida’s “deconstruction” philosophy.
BHL’s scorn for anti-Americanism runs deep. For him, the United States is Rousseau’s social contract come to life, the ultimate democracy. But he is unyielding in his critique of modern woke culture, especially as it plays out on American campuses. According to BHL, it’s all rooted in “false readings” of his contemporaries Derrida and Foucault, twisted by pseudo-intellectuals.
Despite BHL’s characteristic grandeur and self-confidence, he briefly deflates when asked about his wealth, rumored to be around €200 million. The son of a WWII hero turned timber mogul, he inherited his fortune when his family’s business sold to François Pinault. To Americans, the question of wealth might feel natural, but for a Frenchman, it’s an unwelcome probe into the taboo topic of personal wealth. And as for his long-standing marriage to actress Arielle Dombasle? BHL remains tight-lipped, eschewing any grand theory of marriage and instead declaring, “What is important is love, not marriage.”
When asked about the possibility that he appears like a caricature of the French intellectual—a “type” recognizable to Anglo-Saxon audiences for its elitist airs—he doesn’t flinch. Half-smiling, he suggests joining him on the front lines in Ukraine to see if he’s simply “playing a role.”
And with that, we shake hands. BHL disappears into the depths of Paris, leaving behind a challenge—and a promise—to meet him where philosophy meets reality.
