CHAPTER IV

THE COMMUNE

Unquestionably, the revolt was brought about by the ill-judged and

arbitrary conduct of the agents of the National Assembly. To attempt

to seize the guns of the National Guard as a preliminary to disarming

the only Citizen force which the capital had at its disposal was as

illegal as it was provocative. It was virtually a declaration of civil

war by the reactionaries in control of the national forces. The people

of Paris were in no humour to put up with such high-handed action on

the part of men who, they knew, were opposed even to the Republic which

they nominally served. They resisted the attempt and captured the

generals, Lecomte and Thomas, who had ordered the step to be taken.

So far they were quite within their rights, and Clemenceau at first

sympathised wholly with the Federals. The Parisians had undergone

terrible privations during the siege, they were exasperated by the

denunciations that poured in upon them from the provinces, they saw

no hope for their recently won liberties unless they themselves were

in a position to defend them, they had grave doubts whether they had

not been betrayed within and without during the siege itself. It is no

wonder that, under such circumstances, they should resent, by force of

arms, any attempt to deprive them of the means of effective resistance

to reactionary repression.

There was also nothing in the establishment of the Commune itself which

was other than a perfectly legitimate effort to organise the city

afresh, after the old system had proved utterly incompetent. But the

attempt to disarm the population of Montmartre roused passions which

it was impossible to quell. Clemenceau, as Mayor of the district, did

all that one man could do to save the two generals, Lecomte and Clément

Thomas, from being killed. With his sound judgment he saw at once that,

whether their execution was justifiable or not, it would be regarded as

murder by many Republicans whom the cooler heads in Paris desired to

conciliate. As was proved afterwards, he exerted all his power to check

even the semblance of injustice. But his final intervention to prevent

the tragedy of the Château Rouge came too late, and Lecomte and Thomas,

who had not hesitated to risk the massacre of innocent citizens on

behalf of a policy of repression, were regarded as the first victims of

an infuriated mob.

The outcome of Clemenceau's own endeavours to save these misguided

militarists was that he himself became "suspect" to the heads of the

Central Committee of the Commune sitting at the Hôtel de Ville, which

had taken control of all Paris. He was the duly elected and extremely

popular Radical-Socialist--to use a later designation--Mayor of perhaps

the most advanced arrondissement in the capital, he had been sent to

Bordeaux by a great majority of his constituents to sit on the extreme

left, and, in that capacity, had stoutly defended the rights of Paris;

he was strongly in favour of most of the claims made by the leaders of

the Commune. But all this went for nothing. The new Committee wanted

their own man at Montmartre, and Clemenceau was not that man.

So Mayor of Montmartre he ceased to be, but earnest democrat and

devoted friend of the people he remained. Unfortunately, having a wider

outlook than most of those who had suddenly come to the front, he could

not believe that mere possession of the capital meant attainment of

the control of France by the Parisians, or the freeing of his country

from German occupation. For once he advocated prudence and suggested

compromise. A reasonable arrangement between the administrators of

Paris with their municipal forces and the National Assembly with

its regular army seemed to Clemenceau a practical necessity of

the situation. He therefore urged this policy incessantly upon the

Communists. It was an unlucky experience. Pyat, Vermorel and others so

strongly resented his moderate counsels that they issued an order for

his arrest, with a view to his hasty, if judicial, removal. Failing to

lay hold upon Clemenceau himself, they captured a speaking likeness of

the Radical doctor in the person of a young Brazilian. Him they were

about to shoot, when they discovered that their proposed victim was

the wrong man. Possibly these personal adventures in revolutionary

democracy under the Commune may have influenced Clemenceau's views

about Socialism in practical affairs in after life.

It is highly creditable to Clemenceau that a few years later one of his

greatest speeches was delivered in the National Assembly to obtain, the

liberation and the recall from exile of the very same men who would

gladly have silenced him for good and all when they were in power.

However, he escaped their well-meant attentions, and, leaving Paris,

went on a tour of vigorous Radical propaganda through the Provinces.

This was a most important self-imposed mission. Clemenceau, as he

showed by his vote at Bordeaux, was strongly in favour of continuing

the war and bitterly opposed to any surrender whatever. At the same

time he was a thoroughgoing Republican who did not forget that the mass

of Frenchmen must have voted for the Empire a few months before, or

Napoleon's plébiscite, of course, could not have been so successful,

even with the whole of the official machinery in the hands of the

Imperialists. Differing from Gambetta afterwards on many points, the

coming leader of the advanced Radicals was at this period entirely at

one with the man who had not despaired of France when all seemed lost.

But in order to carry on the war with any hope of success and to keep

the flag of the Republic flying, it was essential that the people of

the provincial towns and the peasants should be kept in touch with

Paris and be convinced that the only chance of safety and freedom

lay in sinking all internecine differences for the sake of unity. No

man, not even Gambetta himself, was better qualified for this service.

Throughout his tour he kept the independence, welfare and freedom of

France as a whole high above all other considerations. But the risks he

ran were not trifling. The local reactionists were by no means ready

to accept his views. The police was set upon his trail, with great

inconvenience to himself. But at no period of his life has Clemenceau

considered his personal safety of any account. He had set himself to

accomplish certain work which he deemed to be necessary, and he carried

it through without reference to the dangers around him. Nor must the

success of this propaganda be measured by its immediate results. The

great thing in those days of defeat and despair was to keep up the

national spirit and to declare that, though the French armies might

be beaten again and again, the France of the great Revolution and

the Republic should never be crushed down. Believing, as Clemenceau

did, in the religion of patriotism and the sacred watchwords of the

eighteenth-century upheaval, he spoke with a sincerity that gave to his

utterances the value of the highest oratory. The speeches produced a

permanent impression on those who heard them, and their effect was felt

for many years afterwards.

But this was quite as objectionable to Thiers and the case-hardened

reactionists as his previous conduct had been to Pyat and the

extremists of the Commune. Men of ability and judgment are apt to be

caught between two fires when prejudice and passion take control on

both sides. It was, in fact, little short of a miracle that the future

Prime Minister of France did not complete his services to his country

by dying in the ditch under the wall of Père-la-Chaise at the early age

of thirty-one.

Few movements have been more grotesquely misrepresented than the

Commune of Paris. For many a long year afterwards almost the whole of

the propertied classes in Europe spoke of the Communists as if they had

been a gang of scoundrels and incendiaries, without a single redeeming

quality; while Socialists naturally enough refused to listen to

virulent abuse of men most of whom they well knew were inspired by the

highest ideals and sacrificed themselves for what they believed to be

the good of mankind. At the beginning Paris assuredly had no intention

whatever of courting a struggle with the supporters of the Republic at

Bordeaux, however reactionary they might be. Such men as Delescluze,

Courbet, Beslay, Jourde, Camélinat, Vaillant, Longuet, to speak only

of a few, were no mere hot-headed revolutionaries regardless of all

the facts around them. Paris was admirably administered under their

short rule--never nearly so well, according to the testimony of two

quite conservative Englishmen who were there at the time. One of these

was the famous Oxford sculler and athlete, E. B. Michell, an English

barrister and a French _avocat_; the other was my late brother, Hugh,

a Magdalen man like Michell. They both knew Paris well, and both were

of the same opinion as to the municipal management under the Commune.

Michell in an article in _Fraser's Magazine_, then an important review,

wrote as follows:

"It is extremely important that the serious lesson which the world

may read in the history of the Revolution should not be weakened in

its significance or interest by any ill-grounded contempt either

for the acts of the Communal leaders or for the sincerity of their

motives. We have seen that the army on which the Revolutionists

relied, and by means of which they climbed to power, was not, as

certain French statesmen pretended, and some English papers would

have had us believe, a 'mere handful of disorderly rebels,' but

a compact force, well drilled, well organised, and valiant when

fighting for a cause that they really had at heart. It is equally

false and unfair to regard the Communal Assembly as a crew of

unintelligent and mischievous conspirators, guided by no definite

or reasonable principle, and seeking only their own aggrandisement

and the destruction of all the recognised laws of order. Yet it is

certain that such an idea respecting the Commune is very generally

entertained by ordinary English readers. It may be shown that the

policy of this Government, though defaced by many gross abuses and

errors, had much in it to deserve the consideration, and even to

extort the admiration, of an intelligent and practical statesman. . . .

"Foreign writers have delighted to represent the purposes of the

Commune as vague and unintelligible. Even in Paris and at Versailles

writers and talkers affected at first to be ignorant of the real

projects and principles entertained by the Revolutionists. But the

Commune of 1871 has itself destroyed all possibility of mistake upon

the subject. It has put to itself and answered the question in the

most explicit terms. The _Journal Officiel_ (of Paris) contained, on

April 20th, a document worthy of the most careful perusal. It appears

in the form of a declaration to the French people, and explains fully

enough the main principles and the chief objects which animated the

men of the Commune. Without bestowing on this address the ecstatic

eulogies to which certain Utopian philosophers have deemed it

entitled, we may credit it as being a straightforward, manly, and not

altogether unpractical _exposé_ of the ideas of modern Communists.

". . . 'It is the duty of the Commune to confirm and determine the

aspirations and wishes of the people of Paris; to explain, in its

true character, the movement of March 18th--a movement which has been

up to this time misunderstood, misconstrued, and calumniated by the

politicians at Versailles. Once more Paris labours and suffers for

the whole of France, for whom she is preparing, by her battles and

her devoted sacrifices, an intellectual, moral, administrative, and

economic regeneration, an era of glory and prosperity.

"'What does she demand?

"'The recognition and consolidation of the Republic as the only form

of government compatible with the rights of the people and the regular

and free development of society; the absolute independence of the

Commune and its extension to every locality in France; the assurance

by this means to each person of his rights in their integrity, to

every Frenchman the full exercise of his faculties and capacities as

a man, a citizen, and an artificer. The independence of the Commune

will have but one limit--the equal right of independence to be enjoyed

by the other Communes who shall adhere to the contract. It is the

association of these Communes that must secure the unity of France.

"'The inherent rights of the Commune are these: The right of voting

the Communal budget of receipts and expenditure, of regulating and

reforming the system of taxation, and of directing local services; the

right to organise its own magistracy, the internal police and public

education; to administer the property belonging to the Commune; the

right of choosing by election or competition, with responsibility and

a permanent right of control and revocation, the communal magistrates

and officials of all sorts; the right of individual liberty under an

absolute guarantee, liberty of conscience and liberty of labour; the

right of permanent intervention by the citizens in communal affairs by

means of the free manifestation of their ideas, and a free defence of

their own interests, guarantees being given for such manifestations

by the Commune, which is alone charged with the duty of guarding and

securing the free and just right of meeting and of publicity; the

right of organising the urban defences and the National Guard, which

is to elect its own chiefs, and alone provide for the maintenance of

order in the cities.

"'Paris desires no more than this, with the condition, of course,

that she shall find in the Grand Central Administration, composed

of delegates from the Federal Communes, the practical recognition

and realisation of the same principles. To insure, however, her own

independence, and as a natural result of her own freedom of action,

Paris reserves to herself the liberty of effecting as she may think

fit, in her own sphere, those administrative and economic reforms

which her population shall demand, of creating such institutions as

are proper for developing and extending education, labour, commerce,

and credit; of popularising the enjoyment of power and property in

accordance with the necessities of the hour, the wish of all persons

interested, and the data furnished by experience. Our enemies deceive

themselves or deceive the country when they accuse Paris of desiring

to impose its will or its supremacy upon the rest of the nation, and

of aspiring to a Dictatorship which would amount to a veritable attack

against the independence and sovereignty of other Communes. They

deceive themselves or the country when they accuse Paris of seeking

the destruction of French unity as established by the Revolution.

The unity which has hitherto been imposed upon us by the Empire,

the Monarchy, and the Parliamentary Government is nothing but a

centralisation, despotic, unintelligent, arbitrary, and burdensome.

Political unity as desired by Paris is a voluntary association of

each local initiative, a free and spontaneous co-operation of all

individual energies with one common object--the well-being, liberty,

and security of all. The Communal Revolution initiated by the people

on the 18th of March inaugurated a new political era, experimental,

positive, and scientific. It was the end of the old official and

clerical world, of military and bureaucratic _régime_, of jobbing in

monopolies and privileges, to which the working class owed its state

of servitude, and our country its misfortunes and disasters.'"

The two Englishmen, coming straight to my house from Paris, gave me a

favourable account of the administration of municipal Paris, especially

at the time when Cluseret held command.

Others who were there at the same time were similarly impressed. Paris

ceased even to be the Corinth of Europe, since all prostitutes had been

ordered out of the city. The leaders set an example of moderation in

their style of living, which was the more remarkable as they had no

authority but their own sense of propriety to limit their expenditure.

How little they regarded themselves as relieved from the ordinary rules

of the strictest bourgeois social order is apparent, also, from the

fact that Jourde and Beslay, who were responsible for the finances of

the Commune, actually borrowed £40,000 from the Rothschilds in order

to carry on the ordinary business of the Municipality. Yet at the

time not less than £60,000,000 in gold, apart from a huge store of

silver, was lying at their mercy in the Bank of France; enough, as some

cynically said, if judiciously used, to have bought up all M. Thiers'

Government and his army to boot. The fact that the Communists left

these vast accumulations untouched proves conclusively that they were

the least predatory, some might say the least effective, revolutionists

who ever held subversive opinions. In all directions they showed the

same spirit. Every department was managed as economically and capably

as they could organise it. But always on the most approved bourgeois

lines. Many of the reforms they introduced, notably those by Camélinat

at the Mint, are still maintained.

How, then, did it come about that people of this character and capacity

were regarded almost universally as desperate enemies of society,

from the moment when they came to the front in their own city? It is

the old story of the hatred of the materialist property-owner and

profiteer for the idealist who is eager at once to realise the new

period of public possession and co-operative well-being. The fact

that such an indomitable anarchist-communist as the famous Blanqui,

who spent the greater part of his life in prison, took an active part

in the Commune and that others of like views were associated with

the rising scared all the "respectable" classes, who regarded any

attack upon the existing economic and social forms as a crime of the

worst description. A tale current at the time puts the matter in a

humorous shape. A number of communists, when arrested, were put in

gaol with a still larger number of common malefactors. These latter

greatly resented this intrusion, boycotted the political prisoners,

and, it is said, would have gone so far as to attack their unwelcome

companions but for the intervention of the warders. Asked why they

exhibited such animosity towards men who had done them no harm, the

ordinary criminals took quite a conservative, bourgeois view of their

relations to the new-comers. "We," they said, "have some of us taken

things which belonged to other people; but we have never thought for a

moment of abolishing the right of property in itself. Not having enough

ourselves, we wanted more and laid hands upon what we could get. But

these men would take everything and leave nothing for us." So even the

gaol-birds embraced the bourgeois ethic of individual ownership.

Moreover, the International Working Men's Association had been founded

in London in 1864, just seven years before. Although the late Professor

Beesly, certainly as far from a violent revolutionist as any man could

be, took the chair at the first meeting and English trade unionists

of the most sober character constituted the bulk of the members in

London, the terror which this organisation inspired in the dominant

minority all over Europe was very far indeed in excess of the power

which it could at any time exercise. But the names of Marx, the learned

German-Jew philosopher, and Bakunin, the Russian peasant-anarchist,

were words of dread to the comfortable classes in those days. Marx

with Engels had written the celebrated "Communist Manifesto," at the

last period of European disturbance, in 1848, analysing the historic

development and approaching downfall of the entire wage-earning system,

with a ruthless disregard for the feelings of the bourgeoisie. Its

conclusion appealing to the "Workers of the World" to unite was not

unnaturally regarded as a direct incitement to combined revolt. Though,

therefore, few had read the Manifesto this appeal had echoed far and

wide, and the organisation of the International itself was credited

with the intention to use the Commune of Paris as the starting-point

for a world-wide conflagration. Thus the movement in Paris, which

at first had no other object than to secure the stability of the

democratic Republic, was regarded as an incendiary revolt, and the

brutal outrages of M. Thiers, aided by the mistakes of the Communists

themselves, gradually forced extremists to the front. Some were like

Delescluze, noble enthusiasts who knew success was impossible, and

courted death for their ideal as sowing the seed of success for their

great cause of the universal Co-operative Commonwealth in the near

future; others were such as Félix Pyat, a furious subversionist of the

most ruffianly type, who mixed up personal malignity and individual

hatred with his every action, and brought discredit on his own

comrades. Victory for the Socialist ideals, with the Germans containing

one side of Paris and the Versailles troops attacking the other,

was impossible--would have been impossible even if the Communists

had suppressed their truly fraternal hatreds and had developed a

military genius. They did neither. Cluseret showed some inkling of

the necessities of the case, but Dombrowski, Rossel and other leaders

exhibited no capacity. The wonderful thing about it all was that during

the crisis, which lasted two months, Paris was so well administered.

The sacrifice of the hostages and the tactics of incendiarism pursued

at last, not by the Communist leaders, but by the Anarchist mob broken

loose from all control, have hidden from the public at large, who read

only the prejudiced accounts of the capitalist press, the real truth

about the Commune of Paris.

But whatever may have been done in resistance to the invasion of M.

Thiers' army of reaction, nothing could possibly justify the horrible

vengeance wreaked upon the people of Paris by the soldiery and their

chiefs. It was a martyrdom of the great city. The _coup d'état_ of

Louis Napoleon was child's play to the hideous butchery ordered and

rejoiced in by Thiers, Gallifet and their subordinates. There was not

even a pretence of justice in the whole massacre. Thousands of unarmed

and innocent men and women were slaughtered in cold blood because

Paris was feared by the bloodthirsty clique who regarded her rightly

as the main obstacle to their reactionary policy. It was but too

clear evidence that, when the rights of property are supposed to be

imperilled, all sense of decency or humanity will be outraged by the

dominant minority as it was by the slave-owners of old or the nobles

of the feudal times.

But the Commune itself, as matters stood, was as hopeless an attempt to

"make twelve o'clock at eleven" as has ever been seen on the planet.

John Brown's raid on Harper's Ferry was not more certainly foredoomed

to failure than was the uprising of the Communists of Paris in 1871.

But the Socialists of Europe, like the abolitionists, have celebrated

the Commune and deified its martyrs for many a long year. The brave

and unselfish champions of the proletariat who then laid down their

lives in the hope that their deaths might hasten on the coming of a

better day hold the same position in the minds of Socialists that John

Brown held among the friends of the negro prior to the great American

Civil War. It was an outburst of noble enthusiasm on their part to

face certain failure for the "solidarity of the human race." But those

who watched what happened then and afterwards can scarcely escape from

the conclusion that the loss of so many of its ablest leaders, and the

great discouragement engendered by the horrors of defeat, threw back

Socialism itself in France fully twenty years.

Recent experience in several directions has shown the world that

enthusiasm and idealism for the great cause of human progress, and the

co-ordination of social forces in the interest of the revolutionary

majority of mankind, cannot of themselves change the course of events.

Unless the stage in economic development has been reached where a new

order has already been evolved out of the previous outworn system, it

is impossible to realise the ideals of the new period by any sudden

attack. Men imbued with the highest conceptions of the future and

personally quite honest in their conduct may utterly fail to apply

plain common sense to the facts of the present. Dublin, Petrograd and

Helsingfors, nearly forty years later, did but enforce the teachings of

the Commune of Paris.

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