I also see that Maisonseul is supposed to have joined the Fédération des Français Libéraux [Federation of French Liberals]. He is not the only one to have done so, and since this federation has, I am told, declared its intentions and registered its bylaws with the authorities, it is surely not a hanging offense to be a member. To arrest liberals solely because they belong to this group is to decree that in Algeria only the demonstrators of February 6 have the right to speak.
If that is the case, I urge President Mollet to say whether or not he approves of this policy, which would be tantamount to charging anyone who does not insult the head of the French government with advocating surrender. I myself am firmly opposed to capitulation of all kinds, and I am no less opposed to the politics of the Algerian ultras, who to my mind represent a different sort of surrender, for which they bear a heavy responsibility. My position is exactly the same as Maisonseul’s.
If his efforts on behalf of innocent French and Arab victims in Algeria were enough to get him indicted, then it is absolutely essential that I, too, should be arrested: I also took part in and will continue to take part in those efforts. Logically, it follows that the representatives of the Red Cross should also be arrested, along with Messrs. Mollet and Lacoste, who were aware of the project. Prime Minister Mollet in particular sent me a note of personal support for the committee’s efforts just one month ago, a note that he himself characterized as warm.
To be sure, his congratulations may well seem cold indeed in my friend’s prison cell. Jean de Maisonseul may take consolation from the fact that he continues to enjoy the support of his friends throughout his shameful mistreatment. No one inside or outside the government is in a position to give lessons in patriotism to this courageous Frenchman. I can attest that he never failed in the loyalty he owed to his country, even, indeed especially, in what he did. By contrast, his arrest, and the crude and calculated misrepresentation of the reasons behind it, have truly sabotaged the French future in Algeria. The fellagha2 leadership is no doubt laughing. And it is right to do so. These blind and brutal acts will not make up for the incredible failures of our diplomacy. They will instead add to the damage.
I nevertheless leave to the government responsibility for its policy and its police. The only thing that interests me is the liberation of Jean de Maisonseul. I will do everything in my power to alert the public and demand his release. It will then be necessary to seek reparations, because it would be intolerable to believe that an out-of-control police force can attack the honor of men of such quality with impunity.
P.S. The latest reports say that Jean de Maisonseul is charged only with “imprudence” and that any action against him will be limited. I repeat: the alleged imprudent actions were in fact acts of civic courage that in no way harmed the interests of France and were known and approved in official circles. As for the limited charges, my indignation is all the greater, because there is unfortunately no limit to the damage being done to the reputation of a man who is beyond reproach, whose name has been subjected to the most revolting commentary on the radio and on the front pages of the newspapers. I repeat: it is incumbent on everyone free of partisan attachments to demand immediate reparations.
1. Jacques Soustelle was governor general of Algeria from 1955 to 1956; Robert Lacoste was governor general of Algeria from 1956 to 1958; Guy Mollet was prime minister of France from 1956 to 1957.
2. Fellagha, from an Arabic word meaning literally “bandit” but also farmer, was the term applied to guerrillas who fought against France in Algeria.—Trans.
25 Govern!
A week after the arrest of Jean de Maisonseul, nothing remains of the charges lodged against him and promptly exploited by our treacherous elite. Robert Lacoste, the governor general, allegedly stated that the arrest had been made without his knowledge, while various government officials are said to be both apologetic and surprised. Clearly, emergency powers are not all they are cracked up to be. If there is no traitor and no conspiracy, then what remains of all the sound and fury of the past few weeks? Nothing but this—and I cannot write these words without rage and anger: my innocent friend is still in prison, where he is being held in secret, and his lawyers cannot communicate with him. In other words, it appears that the government of France is not in charge in Algeria, nor is Mr. Robert Lacoste, but rather persons unknown.
In fact, we knew this already. Algeria has long since become autonomous. French sovereignty has been challenged by a double secession. It must therefore be defended on two fronts or relinquished altogether. Anyone who refuses to fight on both fronts will end up shot in the back. The evidence is now clear, and it is certainly permissible to say that there is indeed a conspiracy in Algeria. But it is a conspiracy against the authority of the state and France’s future. Some, employing the traditionally repugnant methods of the police, have tried to use intimidation and obfuscation to prove that all liberals are traitors so that France would stop counting generosity and justice among its arms.
Our brilliant conspirators simply forgot that they were at the same time encouraging the fellagha by showing them that so many of the most respectable French citizens had made up their minds to surrender Algeria to the rebels. But I leave it to our ministers to draw the necessary conclusions and track down those responsible. My only interest is in the responsibility of the government itself.
I am willing to believe that the government had no part in the arbitrary arrest of Jean de Maisonseul, but the moment it became aware of that arrest and expressed its regret, it assumed responsibility for the arbitrary detention of an innocent man. From that moment on, the government has had no excuse, and it must bear full responsibility for every day, every night, and every hour of this scandalous imprisonment. To apologize for an injustice is nothing: there must be reparations. Banging on the table is not enough: one has to be obeyed. Otherwise we will be treated once again to the spectacle of a government without authority, dragged along by events it claims to control, deprived of both the energy of peace and the energy of war, and violated yet again at the very moment it proclaims its virtue.
Neither Jean de Maisonseul himself nor his friends can be satisfied with regrets expressed in a stage whisper. A man’s freedom and reputation cannot be exchanged for condolences and regrets. These are carnal realities, matters of life and death. Between salvos of eloquence in the Chamber of Deputies and a man’s honor, honor is the more urgent necessity, and more is at stake for France than in the dialogue between Dides and Cot.1 Indeed, it is about time that this was said to men who spend so much of their time talking about restoring France’s civic spirit.
This is no doubt a matter of the utmost urgency, and I am surely not the last person to suffer from a certain French isolation, but it has to be said that this civic spirit vanished first from the precincts of government, where public service is in danger of losing its dignity. Passivity, indifference due to fatigue, and in some cases lack of character have given rise to a diminished conception of power, which neglects the innocent and indulges the guilty. The state may be legal, but it is legitimate only when it is the guarantor justice and the arbiter between the general interest and the liberty of the individual. If it ceases to be concerned with this, it loses its body, rots, and becomes nothing more than bureaucratized anarchy. And France is coming to resemble a worm that wriggles about in search of its head.
In light of all this, is the incredible news of the last few days really so surprising? Jean de Maisonseul, accused of a crime that officials privately acknowledge he did not commit, has been thrown in prison, while our yapping dogs, taking advantage of his helplessness, hasten to insult him. Meanwhile, France has delivered to Egypt and Syria arms whose effectiveness our young reservists, called to active duty, will sooner or later take the measure of. Here is a serious question, which I ask without polemical intent: Who has betrayed his country?
The man who is suffering in prison for having sought, without ever failing in his duties, to spare innocent lives caught in the horrors of war? Or those who say with a straight face that they are executing contracts on which the profits will be paid in French blood? What is the difference between these officials and Cadet Maillot,2 other than the fact that Maillot did not take money for the weapons he delivered to the enemy?
Yes, it’s truly mind-boggling to learn these things, but it’s also disheartening, and in the end one understands how such a government can allow a man it knows to be innocent to be deprived of his freedom. A government that wages war by arming its enemy is
