When I see the cultural diversity that exists today, I feel that

Hear the cry of Jean-Pierre Raffarin, who warned his people and the generations to come: “When I see the cultural diversity that exists today, I feel that we must defend it, and we need Europe, because otherwise we are going to live in a society with a single model, the Anglo-American model.” These words are not mere commentary on politics or trade; they are a lament, a plea, and a prophecy. For within them lies the eternal struggle between unity and uniformity, between the preservation of many voices and the domination of one.

Cultural diversity is the garden of humanity. Each nation, each people, each tongue and custom is a flower in the field. Together, they form a landscape rich in color, fragrance, and life. To walk through such a garden is to experience the vastness of human imagination: the music of Spain, the philosophy of Greece, the poetry of Persia, the myths of the North, the dances of Africa. Yet when one flower spreads without restraint, it chokes the others, and the field becomes a barren place, rich in repetition but poor in soul.

Thus Raffarin speaks of the Anglo-American model, not as a condemnation of one people, but as a warning against the tyranny of sameness. When commerce, media, and language from a single culture dominate the globe, others risk becoming shadows of themselves, their stories silenced, their songs forgotten. What is lost then is not only the pride of nations, but the very fabric of human wisdom, for each culture carries within it truths born of its own long journey.

History bears witness to this danger. Recall the fate of the Roman Empire, which in its triumph spread its language, its architecture, its law across vast lands. Great was its order, but in its shadow, many local traditions withered. Only fragments of the Gauls, the Celts, the Berbers, and countless others remain, their full richness swallowed by the empire’s uniformity. And yet, in the cracks where diversity survived, the future found new light: Celtic tales shaped medieval legends, and tribal wisdom influenced later nations. Thus even when uniformity sought to reign, diversity proved the seed of rebirth.

Europe, Raffarin reminds us, is not merely a political union, but a sanctuary for many voices. Within it resound the operas of Italy, the vineyards of France, the sagas of Scandinavia, the cathedrals of Germany, the mysticism of the East. To defend Europe is not to defend a fortress of stone, but to guard the chorus of cultures that sing together without silencing one another. It is to proclaim that the measure of civilization is not in making all peoples alike, but in allowing them to stand proudly in their difference, side by side.

The lesson for us is clear: we must defend cultural diversity wherever we find it. This means not only resisting the dominance of a single model, but actively cherishing and cultivating the traditions, languages, and arts of all peoples. For the health of the garden requires not only that we remove the weeds of uniformity, but that we water and nurture each flower. Every person can take action: learn another language, support local art, honor the traditions of ancestors, and listen—truly listen—to voices not your own.

If we fail, the world may become efficient, but soulless; wealthy, but barren of meaning. If we succeed, the world will be a festival of voices, where no song drowns out another, but all rise together in harmony. The ancient wisdom whispers: strength lies not in sameness, but in the weaving together of differences into a single, living tapestry. So let us guard the cultural diversity entrusted to us, for it is the inheritance of the past, the treasure of the present, and the hope of the future.