The people of the Hôtel de Ville said to themselves, “All our fine
doings and talking come to nothing, the delegate Cluseret and the
commandant Dombrowski send us the most encouraging despatches in vain,
we shall never succeed in persuading the Parisian population, that our
struggle against the army of Versailles is a long string of decisive
victories; whatever we may do, they will finish by finding out that the
federate battalions gave way strangely in face of the iron-plated
mitrailleuses the day before yesterday at Asnières, and it would be
difficult to make them believe that this village, so celebrated for
fried fish and Paris Cockneys, is still in our possession, unless we
can manage to persuade them that although we have evacuated Asnières,
we still energetically maintain our position there. The fact is,
affairs are taking a tolerably bad turn for us. How are we to get over
the inconvenience of being vanquished? What are we to do to destroy the
bad impression produced by our doubtful triumphs?” And thereupon the
members of the Commune fell to musing. “Parbleu!” cried they, after a
few moments’ reflection—the elect of Paris are capable of more in a
single second than all the deputies of the National Assembly in three
years—“Let decrees, proclamations, and placards be prepared. By what
means, did we succeed in imposing on the donkeys of Paris? Why, by
decrees, by proclamations, by placards. Courage, then, let us
persevere. Ha! the traitors have taken the château of Bécon, and have
seized upon Asnières. What matters! quick, eighty pens and eighty
inkstands. To work, men of letters; painters and shoemakers, to work!
Franckel, who is Hungarian; Napoléon Gaillard, who is a cobbler;
Dombrowski, who is a Pole; and Billioray, who writes _omelette_ with an
h, will make perhaps rather a mess of it. But, thank heaven! We have
amongst us Félix Pyat, the great dramatist; Pierre Denis, who has made
such bad verses that he must write good prose; and lastly, Vermorel,
the author of ‘_Ces Dames_,’ a little book illustrated with photographs
for the use of schools, and ‘_Desperanza_,’ a novel which caused
Gustave Flaubert many a nightmare. To work, comrades, to work! We have
been asked for a long time what we understand by the words—La Commune.
Tell them, if you know. Write it, proclaim it, and we will placard it.
Even if you don’t know, tell them all the same; the great art of a good
cook consists in making jugged hare without hare of any kind.” And this
is why there appeared this morning on the walls an immense placard,
with the following words in enormous letters: “Declaration to the
French people.”
Twenty days ago a long proclamation, which pretended to express and
define the tendencies of the revolution of the eighteenth of March,
would perhaps have had some effect. To-day we have awaked from many
illusions, and the finest phrases in the world will not overcome our
obstinate indifference. Let us, however, read and note.
[Illustration: Vermorel,[65] Delegate of Public Safety.]
“In the painful and terrible conflict which once more imposes upon
Paris the horrors of the siege and the bombardment, which makes French
blood flow, which causes our brothers, our wives, our children, to
perish, crushed by shot and shell, it is urgent that public opinion
should not be divided, that the national conscience should not be
troubled.”
That’s right! I entirely agree with you; it is undoubtedly very urgent
that public opinion should not be divided. But let us see what means
you are going to take to obtain so desirable a result.
“Paris and the whole nation must know what is the nature, the reason,
the object of the revolution which is now being accomplished.”
Doubtless; but if that be indispensable to-day, would it have been less
useful on the very first day of the revolution; we do not see why you
have made us wait quite so long for it.
“The responsibility of the mourning, the suffering, and the misfortunes
of which we are the victims should fall upon those who, after having
betrayed France and delivered Paris to the foreigner, pursue with blind
obstinacy the destruction of the capital, in order to bury under the
ruins of the Republic and of Liberty the double evidence of their
treason and their crime.”
Heigho! what a phrase! These clear and precise expressions, that throw
so much light on the gloom of the situation, are these yours, Félix
Pyat? Did the Commune say “_Pyat Lux!_” Or were they yours, Pierre
Denis? Or yours, Vermorel? I particularly admire the double evidence
buried under the ruins of the Republic. Happy metaphor!
“The duty of the Commune is to affirm and determine the aspirations and
the views of the population of Paris; to fix precisely the character of
the movement of the 18th of March, misunderstood, misinterpreted, and
vilified by the men who sit at Versailles.”
Ah, yes, that is the duty of the Commune, but for heaven’s sake don’t
keep us waiting, you see we are dying with impatience.
“Once more, Paris labours and suffers for the whole of France, and by
her combats and her sacrifices prepares the way for intellectual,
moral, administrative and economic regeneration, glory and prosperity.”
That is so true that since the Commune existed in Paris, the workshops
are closed, the factories are idle, and France, for whom the capital
sacrifices herself, loses something like fifty millions a day. These
are facts, it seems to me; and I don’t see what the traitors of
Versailles can say in reply.
“What does Paris demand?”
Ah! yes, what does she ask? Truly we should not be sorry to know. Or
rather, what do you ask; for in the same way as Louis le Grand had the
right to say, “The State, I am the State,” you may say “Paris, we are
Paris.”
“Paris demands the recognition and the consolidation of the Republic,
the only form of government compatible with the rights of the people,
and the regular and free development of society.”
This once you are right. Paris demands the Republic, and must yearn for
it eagerly indeed, since neither your excesses nor your follies have
succeeded in changing its mind.
“It demands the absolute entirety of the Commune extended to all the
localities of France, ensuring to everyone the integrity of its rights,
and to every Frenchman the free exercise of his faculties and abilities
as man, citizen, and workman. The rights of the Commune should have no
other limit, but the equal rights of all other Communes adhering to the
contract, an association which would assure the unity of France.”
This is a little obscure. What I understand is something like this. You
would make France a federation of Communes, but what is the meaning of
words “adherence to the contract?” You admit then that certain Communes
might refuse their adhesion. In that case what would be the situation
of these rebels? Would you leave them free? Or would you force them to
obey the conventions of the majority? Do you think it would be
sufficient, in the case of such a town as Pezenas, for example,
refusing to adhere, that the association would be incomplete? That is
to say, that French unity would not exist? Are you very sure about
Pezenas? Who tells you that Pezenas may not have its own idea of
independence, and that, we may not hear presently that it has elected a
duke who raises an army and coins money. Duke of Pezenas! that sounds
well. Remember, also, that many other localities might follow the
example of Pezenas, and perhaps in order to insure the entirety of the
Commune, it might have been wise to have asked them if they wanted it.
Now, what do you understand by “localities?” Marseilles is a locality;
an isolated farm in the middle of a field is also a locality. So France
would be divided into an infinite number of Communes. Would they agree
amongst themselves, these innumerable little states? Supposing they are
agreed to the contract, it is not impossible that petty rivalries
should lead to quarrels, or even to blows; an action about a party-wall
might lead to a civil war. How would you reduce the recalcitrant
localities to reason? for even supposing that the Communes have the
right to subjugate a Commune, the disaffected one could always escape
you by declaring that it no longer adheres to the social compact. So
that if this secession were produced not only by the vanity of one or
more little hamlets, but by the pride of one or more great towns,
France would find herself all at once deprived of her most important
cities. Ah! messieurs, this part of your programme certainly leaves
something to be desired, and I recommend you to improve it, unless
indeed you prefer to suppress it altogether.
“The inherent rights of the Commune are ‘the vote of the Commmunal
budget, the levying and the division of taxes, the direction of the
local services, the organisation of the magistrature, of the police,
and of education, and of the administration of the property belonging
to the Commune.’”
This paragraph is cunning. It does not seem so at first sight, but look
at it closely, and you will see that the most Machiavellic spirit has
presided over its production. The ability consists in placing side by
side with the rights which incontestably belong to the Commune, other
rights which do not belong to it the least in the world, and in not
appearing to attach more importance to one than to the other, so that
the reader, carried away by the evident legitimacy of many of your
claims, may say to himself, “Really all that is very just.” Let us
unravel if you please this skein of red worsted so ingeniously tangled.
The vote of the Communal budget, receipts and expenses, the levying and
division of taxes, the administration of the Communal property, are
rights which certainly belong to the Commune; if it had not got them it
would not exist. And why do they belong to it? Because it alone could
know what is good for it in these matters, and could come to such
decision upon them, as it thought fit, without injuring the whole
country. But it is not the same as regards measures concerning the
magistracy, the police, and education. Well, suppose one fine day a
Commune should say, “Magistrates? I don’t want any magistrates; these
black-robed gentry are no use to me; let others nourish these idlers,
who send brave thieves and honest assassins to the galleys; I love
assassins and I honour thieves, and more, I choose that the culprits
should judge the magistrates of the Republic.” Now, if a Commune were
to say that, or something like that, what could you answer in reply?
Absolutely nothing; for, according to your system, each locality in
France has the right to organise its magistracy as it pleases. As
regards the police and education, it would be easy to make out similar
hypotheses, and thus to exhibit the absurdity of your Communal
pretensions. Should a Commune say, “No person shall be arrested in
future, and it is prohibited under pain of death to learn by heart the
fable of the wolf and the fox.” What could you say to that? Nothing,
unless you admitted that you were mistaken just now in supposing, that
the integrity of the Commune ought to have no other limit but the right
of equal independence of all the other Communes. There exists another
limit, and that is the general interests of the country, which cannot
permit one part of it to injure the rest, by bad example or in any
other way; the central power alone can judge those questions where a
single absurd measure—of which more than one “locality” may probably be
guilty—might compromise the honour or the interests of France; the
magistracy, the police, and education, are evidently questions of that
nature.
The other rights of the Commune are, always be it understood, according
to the declaration made to the French people:
“The choice by election or competition; with the responsibility and
the permanent right of control over magistrates and communal
functionaries of every class;
“The absolute guarantee of individual liberty, of liberty of
conscience, and of liberty of labour;
“The permanent participation of the citizens in Communal affairs by
the free manifestations of their opinions, and the free defence of
their interests: guarantees to this effect to be given by the
Commune, the only power charged with the surveillance and the
protection of the full and just exercise of the rights of meeting
and publicity;
“The organisation of the city defences and of the National Guard,
which elects its own officers, and alone ensures the maintenance of
order in the city.”
With regard to the affirmation of these rights we may repeat that which
we have said above, that some of them really belong to the Commune, but
that the greater part of them do not.
“Paris desires nothing more in the way of local guarantees, on
condition, let it be understood, of finding in the great central
administration ...”
“... In the great central administration appointed by the federated
Commune the realisation and the practice of the same principles.”
That is to say, in other words, that Paris will consent willingly to be
of the same opinion as others, if all the world is of the same opinion
as itself.
“But, thanks to its independence, and profiting by its liberty of
action, Paris reserves to itself the right of effecting, as it pleases,
the administrative and economic reforms demanded by the population; to
create proper institutions for the development and propagation of
instruction, production, commerce, and credit; to universalize power
and property,...”
Whew! Universalize property! Pray what does that mean, may I ask?
Communalism here presents a singular likeness to Communism!
“... According to the necessities of the moment, the desire of
those interested, and the lessons famished by experience:
“Our enemies deceive themselves or the country when they accuse
Paris of wishing to impose its will or its supremacy on the rest of
the nation, and to pretend to a dictatorship which would be a
positive offence against the independence and the sovereignty of
the other Communes:
“They deceive themselves, or they deceive the country, when they
accuse Paris of desiring the destruction of French unity,
constituted by the Revolution amid the acclamations of our fathers
hurrying to the Festival of the Federation from all points of
ancient France:
“Political unity as imposed upon us up to the present time by the
empire, the monarchy, and parliamentarism, is nothing more than
despotic centralization, whether intelligent, arbitrary, or
onerous.
“Political unity, such as Paris demands, is the voluntary
association of all local initiatives, the spontaneous and free
cooperation of individual energies with one single common
object—the well-being and the security of all.
“The Communal revolution, inaugurated by the popular action of the
18th of March, ushers in a new era of experimental, positive, and
scientific politics.”
Do you not think that during the last paragraphs the tone of the
declaration is somewhat modified? It would seem as though Felix Pyat
had become tired, and handed the pen to Pierre Denis or to
Delescluze,—after Communalism comes socialism.
“Communal revolution is the end of the old governmental and clerical
world, of militarism, of officialism (this new editor seems fond of
words ending in ism), of exploitation, of commission, of monopolies,
and of privileges to which the proletariat owes his thralldom, and the
country her misfortunes and disasters.”
Of course there is nothing in the world that would please me better;
but if I were very certain that Citizen Rigault did not possess an
improved glass enabling him to observe me from a distance of several
miles, without leaving his study or his armchair, if I were very
certain that Citizen Rigault could not read over my shoulder what I am
writing at this moment, I might perhaps venture to insinuate, that the
revolution of the 18th of March appears to me to be, at the present
moment, the apotheosis of most of the crimes which it pretends to have
suppressed.
“Let then our grand and beloved country, deceived by falsehood and
calumnies, be reassured!”
Well, in order that she may be reassured there is only one thing to be
done,—be off with you!
“The struggle going on between Paris and Versailles is one of those
which can never be terminated by deceitful compromises. There can
be no doubt as to the issue. (Oh, no! there is no doubt about it.)
Victory, pursued with indomitable energy by the National Guard,
will remain with principle and justice.
We ask it of France.”
Where is the necessity, since you have the indomitable energy of the
National Guard?”.
“Convinced that Paris under arms possesses as much calmness as bravery
...”
You will find that a very difficult thing to persuade France to
believe.
“... That it maintains order with equal energy and enthusiasm ...”
Order? No doubt, that which reigned at Warsaw; the order that reigned
on the day after the 2nd of December.
“... That it sacrifices itself with as much judgment as heroism ...”
Yes; the judgment of a man who throws himself out of a fourth-floor
window to prove that his head is harder than the paving-stones.
“... That it is only armed through devotion for the glory and liberty
of all—let France cause this bloody conflict to cease!”
She’ll cause it to cease, never fear, but not in the way you understand
it.
“It is for France to disarm Versailles ...”
Up to the present time she has certainly done precisely the contrary.
“... by the manifestations of her irresistible will. As she will be
partaker in our conquests, let her take part in our efforts, let her be
our ally in this conflict, which can only finish by the triumph of the
Communal idea, or the ruin of Paris.”
The ruin of Paris! That is only, I suppose, a figurative expression.
“For ourselves, citizens of Paris, it is our mission to accomplish
the modern revolution, the grandest and most fruitful of all those
that have illuminated history.
“Our duty is to struggle and to conquer!
“THE COMMUNE OF PARIS.”
Such is this long, emphatic, but often obscure declaration. It is not
wanting, however, in a certain eloquence; and, although frequently
disfigured by glaring exaggerations, it contains here and there some
just ideas, or at least, such as conform to the views of the great
majority. Will it destroy the bad effect produced by the successive
defeats of the Federals at Neuilly and at Asnières? Will it produce any
good feeling towards the Commune in the minds of those who are daily
drawing farther and farther from the men of the Commune? No; it is too
late. Had this proclamation been placarded fifteen or twenty days
sooner, some parts of it might have been approved and the rest
discussed. Today we pass it by with a smile. Ah! many things have
happened during the last three days. The acts of the Commune of Paris
no longer allow us to take its declarations seriously, and we look upon
its members as too mad—if not worse—to believe that by any accident
they can be reasonable. These men have finished by rendering detestable
whatever good there originally was in their idea.