30/09/2022

"It’s Not Such a Sin Anymore To Be a Girl": Harley Weir : 4 Talks About Her Recent Work

 



In an excerpt from Plaster Magazine, Harley Weir talks about her love of Nobuyoshi Araki and the Pre-Raphaelites, and that time she nearly interned for a female pornographer
 
This excerpt is taken from the fifth issue of Plaster Magazine.
 
The first time I spoke with Harley Weir on the phone, she had just been caught in a giant hailstorm. It was the middle of July, and she was in awe of the size of the hailstones. Eager for me to see, she picked a few off the ground and took a quick iPhone photo of her clutching a collection of them. However, what struck me from the photo she sent to me wasn’t the hugeness of the golfball-sized hail, but how beautiful the image was. I could not figure out how she had managed to take something so simple and turn it into something so ethereal, so recognisably her, when the photos most people take on an iPhone look as if they have been captured on a drunken night out.
 
But, then again, she is one of the world’s most in-demand photographers, and that is what great photographers do: whether they are equipped with the best camera or just an iPhone, they are capable of translating their perspective of the world through an image. Harley has made a career that people twice her age couldn’t dream of, all because of her unique viewpoint of the world. She brings to life the intimacy of her subject, whether it is a giant piece of hail or an editorial for a leading fashion publication.



 
Today, I find Harley in her newly-purchased, Grade II-listed, 19th-century converted church in Faversham. The church has been converted into a beautiful open-plan house, with a marble kitchen, a long wooden dining table, and two large sofas which she proudly announces were purchased from eBay. There is no bed, but she points to where the altar should be and tells us that the bed is to go there. Even in her personal space, everything is perfectly curated, as if on the set for one of her shoots. A master behind the camera, she has agreed to be photographed for Plaster – something she seldom allows. One could sense her initial unease at being placed in front of the camera. However, any initial shyness evaporated as she began to feel more and more at ease, even, at one point, starting to direct the photographer to where the best place was to shoot, and calling him out for being too close. Then, once the shoot was over, it was my turn to listen as we sat down to talk.
 
Milo Astaire: Could you tell me about your upbringing? Where did you grow up?
 
Harley Weir: I grew up in deep south-west London. My parents gave me a lot of freedom growing up, mostly due to them being bohemian types but also because they worked hard and didn’t have much time to fuss. They both worked in the toy industry. My mum worked for Sindy doll. She used to mock up the dolls for the product design, paint their eyes, root the hair, and make tiny clothes for them.
 
MA: I imagine having creative parents inspired you to look at things slightly differently?
 
HW: I’ve been lucky to have always had art available to me. I remember the first time I saw what I thought was great art: it was a postcard up in my uncle’s houseboat of Hylas and the Nymphs. I remember being besotted by the image of the water nymphs gently dragging Hylas into this pond. It was calm but also very sinister. It’s very Pre-Raphaelite, and that was probably the first art object that I remember I found really, really captivating.
 
MA: Now that you mention the Pre-Raphaelites, I can see their distinct visual language in your photographic work, especially the models you use.
 
HW: Yeah, the influence is definitely always there. I think that’s probably partly due to where I grew up. It was very suburban, leafy, and full of soft nature like the images depicted in those Pre-Raphaelite paintings. People tell me I look a bit Pre-Raphaelite. Maybe that’s also why I connect to it, that very old-fashioned stereotype of beauty, Botticelli’s Venus etc, it’s an interesting starting point for commenting on current beauty trends.
 
MA: What else has influenced you?
 
HW: The Spice Girls were a great influence on my taste … unfortunately! I remember I used to collect Spice Girls posters, and I hid them in a secret closet. The Spice Girls were a big thing for young girls at the time. The first female heroes of my generation. It felt like a very strong movement, but looking back, maybe it wasn’t the best message for the youth of the time.
 
MA: You studied at Central Saint Martins?
 
HW: Yes, I studied fine art, but I would love to return and do it again. At the time, I was very possessed by the idea of being an independent woman, so I decided to begin working while I was there. I had a part-time job at a pub. Then I started working as a fashion photographer to pay for the course, which ultimately took up all of my time. It was actually an accident that I ended up becoming a photographer. Someone just asked me if I wanted to do a fashion shoot because I used to post my pictures online.
 
MA: Where did you post the pictures?
 
HW: Flickr.
 
MA: Oh … we are going way back! Does Flickr still exist?
 
HW: I think it does, but I don’t really know what it’s for. I don’t know who is using it. Someone must be! Anyway, someone saw my work on Flickr when I was 17 and asked me to do a fashion shoot, and I was like, ‘Yeah!’, and they told me they only had a budget of £300 and I was like, ‘Oh my God, I’ll do anything for that much money!’
 
MA: Did you pocket the budget?
 
HW: Of course! I spent £5 on a train ticket and £20 on film and pocketed the rest.
 
MA: Was there a lightbulb moment when you thought, ‘I can make a career out of taking these photographs’?
 
HW: I think I was so busy that I didn’t really have a chance to realise what I was up to, but I was really grateful.
 
MA: Was there anything in your work that you felt you wanted to explore or say when you were starting out?
 
HW: I think fashion photography can be a really interesting way of understanding the woman. I was intrigued and excited about learning about female desire through my work. In the beginning, when I first started, I primarily took photographs of guys. Most of my projects consisted of photographing men in archetypal female situations, men as Ophelia or Venus for example.
 
MA: What photographers’ work were you looking at during that time?
 
HW: Araki. I used to love Sally Mann and Peter Beard. Beard was my first love. My dad would read his books to me when I was a kid. I found it strange that fashion from the outside was such a female-looking world, yet, so few women were behind the camera.
 
I really wanted to intern for a female pornographer at the time and was really excited about that, but it didn’t happen. On her website, she claimed to be the only female porn director in the UK and I thought ‘how can that be?’ I was interested in the idea of understanding my desires because there is definitely a point where, as a girl, you look around, and you realise everything you’ve ever read was written by a man, or every porno you’ve ever watched was directed by a man, every film ... and you are like, ‘Oh shit, what do I desire? How can I know what I desire if everything I’ve ever looked at has been made by a guy anyway?’ So I think it was an interesting time in fashion for me to do my thing and figure out what I desired and if I could ever know what that was or is.
 
Harley Weir on Pornography, Female Desire and the Spice Girls. By Milo Astaire. Another Magazine, September 23, 2022.




The photographer has published her first ever self-portrait series – here, she discusses the otherworldly allure of sex dolls, being enlightened by porn, and why she chose to turn the camera on herself.
 
Harley Weir has been on Instagram for around a decade – but she’s never posted a selfie before now. “I just never wanted people to judge me before they judge my work,” she says, explaining the aversion to sharing photos of herself over the phone from New York, where she’s recovered from jetlag just in time for the start of fashion week. “I’m not necessarily a purist but I wanted my work to speak for itself, and not for my image to speak for itself.” In her new Beauty Papers photobook, however, the two are unavoidably intertwined, as the photographer turns the camera on herself for the first time.
 
Of course, flicking through a book from one of fashion’s foremost photographers – whose personal work often exists at the borderlines of the sensual and the grotesque – is a far cry from scrolling down your social media feeds. For one, Weir herself is often hidden behind a hyperreal rubber mask, an uncanny second skin, or layers of make-up that achieve a similar effect, smoothing out her features to a Barbie-like sheen. In other images, meanwhile, sex dolls take her place in front of the camera, dead-eyed or dripping with fake tears (the book itself is dedicated to “all the dolls in the world”).
 
These contrasting images – the real versus the fake, the comic versus the erotic, “pantomime feminine” forms versus “real” bodies with fat rolls and loose tampon strings – are all a part of modern-day beauty, explains Weir. To illustrate the point she sends a quote over text, by the late French philosopher George Batailles: “I believe that truth has only one face: that of a violent contradiction.”
 
“It’s very confusing,” Weir continues. “Because at once I don’t agree with the oversexualisation, the overbeautification, the artificial elements of current day beauty, but I still follow that trend in a way. If you go on social media a lot, it’s very hard to move away from those wants and desires.” You only have to scroll down Instagram a few minutes, she adds, and you’ll come across hundreds of women (and increasingly men) whose appearances are altered in Photoshop or via cosmetic surgeries – sculpting the homogenised look that Jia Tolentino dubbed “Instagram face” back in 2019, with figures such as Kim Kardashian as the blueprint. Even if you recognise the idealised veneer, it’s hard not to compare yourself against this constant stream of images.
 





“Everyone wants to be desired,” says Weir. “So it’s a difficult one: you don’t want to be a part of something that you think is not quite right, yet you don’t want to get left behind. Especially working in the fashion industry, you’re inundated with images of beautiful people all the time. It’s a catch-22.”
 
Is perfection actually that sexy, though? This question is asked throughout Weir’s latest project, where airbrushed skin takes on an eery quality, and romance is found in upside-down kisses, bodies and faces smeared with glitter and grime. “I think there’s something in the grotesque,” she says, “and something in uniqueness.” Even for her, though, this realisation took time, arriving too late to stop her from removing a red, star-shaped birthmark on her face aged 16. “I thought I was absolute freak. I just wanted to look like everyone else.”
 
Watching porn was partly responsible for broadening Weir’s conception of what a body could look like, and for shaping her acceptance of her own body. “If you look in the right places for porn, you can see anything,” she says. “It personally made me feel more normal, because I saw all the weird things I thought I was.”
 
As in Father, the 2019 photo book that she billed as an exploration and worship of the male body, this new photo book takes a similar approach, showing us sides to sexuality that rarely break through to the mainstream. On the flipside, of course, porn can also be misleading, teaching men that women should look and act a certain way – these ideals are also echoed, in the pliant bodies and provocative angles of Weir’s sex doll images, or in her own contorted poses.
 
Over the past few years, Harley Weir has worked with some of the biggest names in fashion, film, and music. Just last week, Pamela Anderson, Doja Cat, Kyle MacLachlan, and more starred in the campaign she shot for Marc Jacobs’ AW22 Heaven collection. In a crossover with the Beauty Papers publication, Charli XCX posed with kitchen knives sticking out of her back. Taking her turn in front of the lens, though, the photographer jumped in at the deep end.




 
After several tries at shooting a photo where she hangs upside down, she says: “My eye actually burst, and then I vomited.” Another time, the thick rubber skin-suit she wore gave her a panic attack. Though she’s always been “quite sensitive” toward people’s needs on set, she says that this shed a new light on the physical challenges models face, and made her more grateful. “Even just standing upright, in a pair of extremely painful shoes and really uncomfortable clothes, is actually quite a feat.”
 
At the same time, switching between the roles of director and model – and delegating many of the actual photographs to assistants, make-up artists, and anyone who could pick up a camera – gave Weir a new sense of freedom. “I didn’t have to feel guilty,” she says. “If you’re a photographer, you’re always asking something of someone, which can feel dirty and sometimes quite grim afterwards. That transaction can feel weird.” Only having to worry about what she was feeling allowed her to push further, and dig deeper into stranger forms of beauty that might otherwise have been inaccessible. “I could be more free,” she says, “without having to worry about hurting someone’s identity. It was just mine that was there to play with.”
 
Harley Weir Beauty Papers is published by Beauty Papers and distributed by IDEA. Take a closer look in the gallery above.

Harley Weir’s uncanny nudes explore beauty in the age of Instagram. By Thom Waite. Dazed, September 13, 2022. 





 
Harley Weir Beauty Papers with Charlotte Cotton. Idea








As her new solo show Sins of a Daughter opens in London, Harley Weir talks about womanhood, vaginas and the “painterly” qualities of cum.
 
“There’s no designer vagina,” says London-based photographer Harley Weir, who is discussing a series of intimate images in her new solo exhibition, Sins of a Daughter, at Hannah Barry Gallery in Peckham. “They all look so different and they’re all beautiful in different ways.” Gathering together 30 of her photographs old and new – some of which have been abstracted and collaged over with household products and bodily fluids like cum, spit, pee and blood – these frenetic, highly emotional images draw on themes of inherited family trauma, sexuality, shame, motherhood and the knotty topic of desire.
 
Weir is responsible for era-defining fashion images that include Young Thug in a Molly Goddard dress for Dazed, or Klara Kristin’s much-debated ‘up-skirted’ Calvin Klein campaign shot, but this exhibition shows an artist running amok, unfettered by budgets and collaboration. “It’s difficult when you’re working with people,” she explains. “In my personal work, I can get closer to the truth.”
 
Dear mother – a darkly-lit image of a woman with her legs splayed apart – recalls Gustave Courbet’s controversial 1886 painting L'Origine du monde, but Weir zooms in further, giving an almost microscopic view of the vulva. These vagina pictures hang next to images of a lactating nipple and a breastfeeding baby, throwing the very notion of the Madonna-Whore complex into disarray. Elsewhere, pop culture icons like Avril Lavigne and Kylie Jenner appear subtly in the work; “[they’re] the girls of this generation,” says Weir, citing the dulling effect of constantly being on social media. “There is beauty in everything, and everyone does have a beautiful side and a grotesque side,” she says. “We only see that one side, that beautiful side – especially with social media.”
 
Here, Weir talks about the line between pornography and art, why we must learn to love our vaginas, and the reality of working in the fashion and art industries as a woman.
 
Violet Conroy: How did the idea for the show come about?
 
Harley Weir: I was thinking about bloodlines, the inherited weight of gender, things that get passed down from your family like trauma, illnesses, or general upbringing. The title Sins of a Daughter comes from the saying ‘sins of the father’, which stems back to a previous book I made called Father, which was a series of male nudes exploring the female gaze and desire.
 
VC: Do you think of yourself as a fashion photographer first and an artist second, or is there no distinction between the two?
 
HW: I dislike labels, they hold us back from doing what we want. I feel very fluid, but there’s not really a good definition for such things. I’m comfortable though with whatever people want to call me at this point.
 




VC: Do you approach the two modes of working in the same way? Or does your personal work allow you to tackle themes that maybe your fashion stuff doesn’t?
 
HW: It’s always a huge collaboration when you’re doing a fashion project. There are hundreds of people on set – you’re not alone. With fashion, it doesn’t really feel [like it’s] my own, because I wouldn’t necessarily share my inner thoughts with people I don’t know very well.
 
My personal work feels quite different. Often it’s abstract and without people, because I don’t feel 100 per cent that anything is fully mine if it’s a picture of someone else – that’s a collaboration. It’s difficult when you’re working with people; it’s important to respect them. I don’t want to make anyone feel bad about the way they look in an image, [but] that’s not the truth. In my personal work, I can get closer to the truth.
 
VC: Some of the pieces seem to tackle sexuality and shame. Has making these images allowed you to work through your thoughts about these things?
 
HW: Yes, it has. I overlay or paste on a lot of the images; they’re hardly visible in the finals, and are almost like secret, cathartic symbols of such thinking. I almost find it like art therapy. There’s alchemy in the darkroom, it’s completely black and I’m experimenting with waste products, whether it’s bodily fluids or wasted beauty products I take from my bathroom cabinet. It’s very physical in the dark, and there can be a real abstract feeling. When you have no other senses, your mind can really unravel. I get really heightened emotions when I’m in there.
 
We have so much stimulation constantly, social media is always in our faces. We’ve always got our phone to pacify ourselves. When you’re completely in the dark, your mind has time to run wild. I feel like a lot of thoughts and things like that will come out when I’m doing those things, and I think they really look like that feeling when I see the final result afterwards.




 
VC: What inspired you to use bodily fluids?
 
HW: It felt quite natural to start experimenting. Originally, I wanted to see what cum looked like on photo paper if it was left. That was the first one I did, when I made the book Father. I was trying to make a cover for the book, and I wanted it to be bodily fluids, then I put it into the processor and I realised it stained it in a very painterly way.
 
VC: What about the vagina images?
 
HW: When I looked back at the vagina images, I thought, ‘Oh god, how expected of me to do vaginas again!’ But I still think that we don’t see them enough, because they’re so internal. As a girl you must use a mirror to even look at your own. We see the beautiful mound in art and plastered everywhere – but [the] open [part] is still quite unseen. I remember having to turn to porn when I was a kid to really see one.
 
When I took those images, it had a big effect on me because I’d never seen anyone’s vagina properly before. It was quite important for me to do that. I’m so thankful for the girls that allowed me to do it because it was really eye-opening and it made me realise that everyone is so different. There’s no designer vagina, we’re all so different and they’re all beautiful in different ways. And we must learn to love them.
 




VC: Do you think there’s a world in which pictures of vaginas, like the ones you took, will not be read as pornographic by people?
 
HW: It’s tricky. A lot of the girls who came to have their picture taken were very well-groomed, and I had hoped they might be a bit more realistic. I did wonder, ‘Oh, are these vaginas too beautiful?’ because I don’t want to give people the wrong impression. These people knew they were going to have photos taken of their vagina, so a lot of them were waxed or shaved, which could give them a more porno feeling.
 
VC: I loved the vagina picture with Avril Lavigne’s face superimposed on top.
 
HW: [Laughs.]. My first assistant Alexa was helping me late to print those, and we were looking through old images to overlay with the vaginas, and she was like, ‘How about Avril?’ I was like, ‘Hell yes!’.
 
VC: You’ve got these pop culture icons in the work, like Avril Lavigne and Kylie Jenner – what compelled you to include them?
 
HW: I go through old images I’ve collected, weekly newspapers, and make little piles with images that sing to me at the time, and those happened to be in there. I feel like they [Lavigne and Jenner] are the girls of this generation, I see their faces so often they are almost like a motif. It’s subconscious almost, but there’s also a fair amount of intent in there. Since I do it all in the dark and don’t use any glue, what sticks is almost like a tarot card reading.
 
VC: A lot of the work is about motherhood, with the breastfeeding images. What about this concept interests you?
 
HW: I mixed those images on the wall with images of vaginas because I was thinking of the idea of function, and those parts being functional rather than sexual. I thought, ‘Oh gosh, is someone going to feel uncomfortable that a vagina is next to an image of a breastfeeding boob,’ but I thought: no, it makes perfect sense. That’s what they were created for. We shouldn’t even really have to think about that, but we do.




 
VC: Is beauty something you’re still looking for in your work?
 
HW: Beauty, for me, is what draws people to an image and helps them listen. I would love for things to be less beautiful, but when you’re working with people it’s really hard. If you’re photographing people, it’s important to make them feel comfortable, or at least I think so. I love the work of photographers who really show the truth in all its grotesqueness, and I feel like I hold back from that because I care about the people that I photograph. I don’t want them to be disappointed or feel ugly.
 
If it was a better world, we wouldn’t mind about those things. There is beauty in everything, and everyone does have a beautiful side and a grotesque side. We only see that one side, that beautiful side – especially with social media. It’s complicated. Beauty is a big topic.
 
VC: What’s it like being a woman in the fashion and art industries now, and has it changed since you first started out as a photographer?
 
HW: It’s changed a lot. I definitely felt very embarrassed about being a girl when I was younger. I feel very comfortable being a girl now. I felt like I was disrespected, or that people didn’t or wouldn’t give me the respect I wanted as a girl sometimes. I feel like it’s changed a lot in a good way, and that’s really exciting.
 
“It’s Like Art Therapy”: Harley Weir on Her Provocative New Exhibition. By Violet Conroy. Another Magazine, April 21, 2022. 






Fashion photographer Harley Weir first got a hold of a camera when she was eight years-old. “My mum used to give me a disposable camera to take with me on school trips. I loved using it,” she tells me. “I think the first pictures I took were of some pigs that were having sex at a farm we visited. I have a vivid memory of it. The disposable was like my social media then.”
 
If you haven’t heard of Weir, you’ve at least seen her work. The Southwest London native has lensed the likes of Young Thug, Bjork, and Rihanna for Dazed, Greta Thunberg’s famous i-D cover, Bella Hadid for LOVE, and Pharrell for Humanrace. That’s just a selection of the 30 year-old photographer’s heavy-hitting portfolio; Jacquemus, Helmut Lang, Charlotte Knowles, Stella McCartney, and Calvin Klein have also enrolled her to snap their campaigns, and most recently, Gucci x Balenciaga.
 
Sins of a daughter, which opened on April 9 at London’s Hannah Barry Gallery, is Weir’s first solo exhibition since the Covid-19 outbreak. “It’s interesting to go back into that mindset of where I was two and a half years ago and revisit those feelings and thoughts,” she says. It’s nearing 10 o’clock at night for Weir, who’s busy with the finishing touches of her show ahead of its opening. “I’ve been doing last minute printing, some things didn’t fit into frames properly, the usual. So manic.”
 
Showing almost 30 new collages and archival images, Sins of a daughter is a revealing look into Weir’s most intimate and private photographic experiments. The featured archive dates back to 2008, when teenager Weir first started taking photos of her friends and sisters. “They’re quite abstract images. Some of them come from a previous project called Father, a book I made with a series of male nudes. There’s also a series of vaginas in the show, very close up and personal, quite intense. It was very much about my desire as a woman, like, ‘What do I desire?’ I wanted to figure that out, so a lot of it is coming from that angle.”
 
In a late night interview, the artist walks us through her creation process, her obsession with the body, and what she does want as a woman, for now.
 
What can we expect to see from Sins of a daughter?
 
HW : Photographic collages. They were made originally by experimenting with body fluids. I put the fluids on photo paper, which is then left to cook. It changes the chemistry of the paper and brings out certain colors or removes things, darkens things, almost like a form of painting, but with alchemy. Strangely, everything I have used from then on is a waste product of something. I use a lot of outdated beauty products or health foods, for example. Ingredients are things like perfumes, contact lens solution, ingrown hair solution, moringa powder, spirulina.
 
When you say body fluids, what kind do you mean exactly?
 
HW : Spit, pee, cum, blood. But they go through processes and become properly cleaned and fixed so only the marks remain. I didn’t use any body fluid since lockdown because it felt weird, since everyone was hyper aware of cleanliness and things like that. It changed the direction a little bit, and I ended up working with things like super foods, which is interesting because they do have a super odd effect on the paper. It feels very prehistoric experimenting with alchemy in the way that I do. like when people were exploring the natural world for ways of doing things, like octopus ink for writing. Usually I will start with an analogue image or collage of different images on the same photo paper. I do it all in the dark, so I don’t know exactly what I’m doing. Very much like a witch [doing] a ritual in the dark with these potions.




 
What’s the meaning behind the show’s name?
 
HW : It’s from the common saying, “sins of a father.” In this case, I think about the idea of inherited sins, of what has been passed down through my gender from history. In a personal sense, thinking about what you inherit from your parents and what they feed down to your bloodline, what they gave you and what you carry, past traumas and sins. When I say sins, you could put it another way and say “history.” Not necessarily bad things.
 
Photography is very much collaborative, whereas art – especially your method of creation – seems more personal.
 
HW :  I don’t think an image necessarily belongs to me if there’s someone else in it. My personal work is abstract, without people, because it feels wholly mine. With other work – especially my fashion work – it’s always a collaboration. There are hundreds of people on set. How much of yourself are you willing to show and share with strangers? Personally? Not so much.
 
You go from photographing mega celebrities, then regular people on the street. How do you bring out that intimacy from strangers?
 
HW : I love to photograph people who love to be photographed. When I was younger, I was sometimes photographing people that really didn’t like to be photographed, and the exchange was very awkward and bizarre. I like to go with the flow, with the feeling, and if someone wants to be nude, then it happens.
 



 
A lot of your work seems to focus on the human form, especially the female body. What’s your fascination with that?
 
HW : As a woman, every film you watch as a child – less so now – but when I was younger, it was likely directed by a guy and the woman is likely, usually a sassy whore. Women are very sexualized. Their bodies are always on show, and they’re a love interest for a guy. Having that focus on the body is probably subconsciously from my upbringing, and having watched so much media applaud or obsess with the female body. It’s ingrained that I would naturally be interested in the body, because that’s what it felt like people were interested about me when I was younger. Guys would say, “Oh, you have a nice ass,” or “Your boobs are too small.” It was always about the body. I don’t remember saying I wouldn’t go out with a guy because he didn’t have a six pack. But you know, at school, kids are cruel.
 
Originally a lot of my photography was of the male nude. I found some really old pictures I took of my first boyfriend when I was around 16, that continued in a diary form. I used to post some of them on Flickr, and that’s where it all started. People started asking me to do photography professionally.
 
 
When you do photograph the body, sometimes you zoom in so close into certain details – There’s a sense of childlike innocence, but it can also be a bit uncomfortable, grotesque even.
 
HW : I like things to be direct and I feel like when you have a tight crop, the message is clearer. I don’t find things very grotesque. The pictures I show I find to be very tame and cute. I have a tendency towards the grotesque, but I don’t show [them] because I don’t think people will respond very well to that. My level of grotesque, my grotesque-dar is very skewed. With my fashion work, I’m always so worried about who I’m photographing, I don’t want to show them in a bad light. I want to be sensitive to [that] person’s feelings. It does hold me back, because I do want to show people in their more true, grotesque light but Im still too conscious of myself and of others.
 
I have been experimenting for this show, taking very grotesque pictures of myself, but I couldn’t actually bring myself to print them or put them on the wall. It felt too invasive. But definitely, the images I like of other people’s work are quite grotesque and I envy those that have the [courage] to show things in their true grotesque light.
 



 
You also run an Instagram account documenting of photos of trash. What’s that about?
 
HW : I think fashion gives you a real need to, when you see that side of things, it makes you feel very privileged and gives you an empathy that needs to have an outlet. The ever-increasing worry about climate change and how we’re destroying the planet drew me to that. I wanted to protest with these images in a way, [and] just be aware of the issue.
 
 
I read that you collect vintage Issey Miyake and Jean Paul Gaultier. What is it about those designers that you like?
 
HW : I’ve been collecting [them] since I was 17 when eBay was amazing. I have a pretty damn good collection of about 30 pieces from [the] eBay era where you could pick up a full dress for 20, 40 pounds. I particularly love the Guest Artist Series [by] Issey Miyake when he collaborated with artists. And Jean Paul Gaultier, I find his clothes to be artwork. He’s also very obsessed with the body and his work is like wearable art.
 
Weirdly, I had a lot of years where I wore absolutely no fashion whatsoever. In my teens and early twenties, I was really into fashion as works of art and I used to spend a lot of time getting dressed and wearing crazy clothes. After about 21, and I left for university, I became brown mouse and didn’t spend any money on clothes. I spent everything on photography. I didn’t go shopping for years until I was about 28. I wasn’t interested in the way I looked and I didn’t want to stand out or look pretty. I didn’t want people to judge me for being a girl. People would always be like, “Oh, can you fix the music?” No one ever assumed that I was the photographer, so I wanted to be very serious and dress appropriately. For years I cut that side of myself out, but I’m back to it now. I’m getting all my Jean Paul Gaultier [and] weird stuff out and having a good time with [them] again.
 
 
What was the cause of this sudden change?
 
HW : There’s been such a big culture change. I was ashamed to be a woman when I was younger, I didn't think people would take me seriously and now I’m not ashamed to be a woman anymore. There’s been a huge change in society’s view of women and it’s not such a sin anymore to be a girl. When I was in my twenties, it felt shameful to be girly or wear pink. Now everybody’s much more girly-obsessed and it feels like I don’t have to be shy about being a girl anymore, coming to set wearing a skirt, looking like I give a shit. Why not.
 
 
Sins of a daughter is on view now through May 7 at Hannah Barry Gallery, London.


Spit, Pee, Cum & Blood: a Glimpse into Harley Weir’s Most Sinful Desires. By Elaine YJ Lee. Highsnobiety, April 18, 2022















25/09/2022

I, the People, The Fall of Robespierre

 







In his personality and appearance, Maximilien de Robespierre was never a brute. Barely into his thirties when he became the French Revolution’s leading crusader, he was much too thin and pale, much too feline in his posture, to count amongst history’s ogres. How, then, can we explain his metamorphosis from champion of virtue to undisputed master of the guillotine? It is this crucial contradiction that Marcel Gauchet, a leading French liberal intellectual, has skilfully explored in his terse and thorough work Robespierre: The Man Who Divides Us the Most.

Between the joining of the Estates General in 1789 and the execution of Louis XVI in 1793, Robespierre represented the very best of the Revolution. With his leatherbound Rousseau clutched to his breast, he was the figure in whom the mantra of “liberty, equality and fraternity” was purest. What he lacked in charisma he made up for in conviction. At the core of his being was a vision of the masses – le peuple – idyllic and good; the font of the Revolution’s legitimacy, and its greatest dreams.

It was this view of a mythic and united people which gave Robespierre strength, Gauchet observes, but it also divorced him from reality. No such people existed. Instead, a gulf separated the pious peasants of the countryside and the insurrectionary squadrons of the Paris quarters. And a firm sense of reality was desperately needed when multiple crises reached their apex in 1793 and those virtuous people could no longer afford bread. All of Europe declared war on France. Counterrevolution scorched the fields. Above all, the king had been beheaded. In Louis’ wake, there was a crisis of legitimacy.

Robespierre, the consummate man of theory, suddenly had to wield real power. As the architects of a new republic, his Montagnard faction ought to have faced the conundrum succinctly phrased by Gauchet: “How could the power of popular sovereignty be firmly established, firmly enough that the power of the king would be forgotten?” Instead, under assault on multiple fronts, Robespierre abandoned every principle that had won him admiration. He plunged into what Gauchet calls “the tempestuous seas of radicalism without any shore on the horizon”.

Robespierre’s faith in himself as the spokesman for France’s sacred masses became intertwined with his tendency to see treachery everywhere. If the people were the source of all virtue and he was their anointed tribune, then anyone perceived to be standing in the way during a national emergency deserved to die.

Thus, the Committee of Public Safety was established and the year-long bloodlust now known as the Great Terror ensued. Even then, Robespierre’s “despotism” was peculiar. Gauchet notes that, historically speaking, Robespierre was the only figure “who succeeded in objectively exercising a kind of dictatorship without subjectively putting himself in the position of a dictator.” Not that his enemies cared for such trivia. It was Robespierre and a clutch of devotees alone – not the Committee – who went to the gallows the morning after they were ousted in the coup of Thermidor.

Where he fails is in his conclusions. He believes we can now transcend the 200-year-old argument: on the one hand, Robespierre as the incorruptible man of rights; on the other, the advocate of sacred and necessary terror. But his plea to move beyond these competing images is founded on a false hope: that the principles of “liberty and equality . . . have been firmly established.”

Not so fast, professeur. Gauchet’s fault, like Robespierre’s, is to believe there is an end point, when the inherent truth of liberty and justice has defeated all challengers. In fact, the debate about Robespierre’s character and legacy is still worth having today precisely because it reveals and reaffirms those first principles – and our commitment to them should always be made anew, especially in moments of crisis. That, after all, is what Robespierre failed to do.

Robespierre: man of virtue or terror? By James Robins. New Humanist, September 22, 2022







In Robespierre : The Man Who Divides Us the Most, Marcel Gauchet explores the legacy of Robespierre as a tragic figure whose dual character embodied the contradictions of the French Revolution in representing both liberty and tyranny. With France today divided by political polarisation, this is a timely and provocative intervention, writes Leon Hughes.

Robespierre : The Man Who Divides Us the Most. Marcel Gauchet (translated by Malcom DeBevoise). Princeton University Press. 2022.

 On 27 May 2022 Fanny Lescureux, President of the ‘amis de Robespierre’ (‘Friends of Robespierre’) association, accused a member of a militant and pro-Zemmour extreme right organisation agitating for a ‘France blanche’ (‘White France’) of attacking her and her mother in their home in Feuchy, Pas-de-Calais. Four weeks earlier, Marcel Gauchet published his translated work on Robespierre. Its subtitle, The Man Who Divides Us the Most, is a timely indictment of a France that is increasingly politically polarised.

Gauchet, Professor Emeritus of the École des Hautes Études en Sciences Sociales (EHESS), proposes a striking argument in his book: that Robespierre was a tragic figure. Attempting to give liberty and equality ‘their most complete expression’, he failed to make a system of government from these principles, and instead had to ‘resort to terrorist violence in order to fill the gap between idea and reality’ (3). This led to two Robespierres: one inspirational, one repellent.

This is not a conventional biography: Gauchet makes clear that he will only consider Robespierre’s career from the start of the French Revolution as post-1789 Robespierre was ‘another man, as though he had undergone a conversion’ (10). Over six chapters, this bifurcated Robespierre is traced alongside the Revolution which, to Gauchet, he intimately embodied. The first five chapters detail his ‘ideas put into action’ (167), the sixth moves forward into encapsulating the continuing division that Robespierre causes in French society today.

In his first chapter, Gauchet details how, in 1789, ‘unbeknownst to him’, Robespierre’s discourse ‘contained the seeds of the utter destruction of an entire society and system of government’ (12). This seed was contained in his commitment to the Declaration of Rights and its grounding in legislative power as a hopeful ‘incorruptibility’ over the suspected despotism of a royal or ministerial executive. Robespierre begins to emerge as the embodiment of the promise of the Declaration.

Gauchet develops this in his second chapter as, in early 1792, Robespierre increasingly allied himself with ‘an idealised image of the people, and of himself as their spokesman’ (44). As the guide to the people, Robespierre developed a ‘sacrificial narcissism’ in which he ‘blinded him to himself’ (55) and produced a ‘dictatorial language’ of which ‘he became a prisoner’ (56). He became locked within Manichean logics: ‘between virtue in the service of the public welfare and corruption that knows only selfish self-interests, there was no middle ground’ (57).

Chapter Three details how, after 10 August 1792, Robespierre’s conviction that the people were the vehicle of virtue became confirmed. Yet, with the trial of King Louis XVI and Girondin-Montagnard factionalism, Robespierre’s growing conspiratorialism led him to necessarily conclude a ‘fight to the death’ (62) was developing. However, despite the people attaining a greater rhetorical power in his speeches, their conceptual vagueness ‘opened up the possibility of a regime with emergency powers’ (80).

Consequently, by 1793-94, Robespierre had become trapped within his own logics of conspiracy and came up against ‘the futility of his own vision’ (179). In his fourth and fifth chapters, Gauchet details the final stages of Robespierre’s career. He shows how Robespierre, installed in a position of power, no longer just spoke on behalf of the people, but began to exercise power in their name. Making a distinction between despotism for its own sake and temporary despotism for its own abolition, Robespierre resorted to attempting to save the Republic by institutionalising virtue through the Cult of the Supreme Being and increasingly violent attempts to cleave the virtuous from the unvirtuous.

Gauchet explains that Robespierre increasingly became ‘a prisoner of a way of thinking that transformed all resistance […] into a sign of despotism’ (145). He locates this mental imprisonment in the Declaration. With his only way of explaining himself from ‘first principles’ (145) on 8 Thermidor, Robespierre was imprisoned under charges of tyranny the day after by his fellow deputies who demanded tangible political answers. This is the culmination of Robespierre’s paradoxical ‘ideas put into action’: to himself he was the modest guide to an impersonal truth; however, his listeners heard the dictatorial monster that was to become his posthumous myth following his execution by guillotine in 1794.

In assessing Robespierre’s early ideas to explain the internal political dynamics of the Revolution, Gauchet aligns with the neo-Tocquevillian paradigm of his late mentor, François Furet. Yet, Gauchet sets a slightly different tone from Furet who, writing in the 1970s and explicitly critiquing totalitarianism, saw the Declaration as inevitably leading to the Terror of 1793-94. Gauchet agrees with Furet (1978) that the Declaration ‘took on a life of its own, until finally it succeeded in toppling a throne that had been secure for centuries’ (169). However, he holds more sympathy for the revolutionaries and their project, and his Robespierre becomes a tragic figure fatally caught up in his own self-aggrandising logics.

Despite being hugely influential in the historiography of the French Revolution, Furet has declined in popularity in Anglo-American scholarship which has increasingly moved away from his revisionist poststructuralism. Lynn Hunt (2009) saw this as one pole, the other being Marxist approaches, which has led studies of the French Revolution into an ‘interpretative cul-de-sac’. Translating Gauchet’s work into English hence holds potential to reintroduce Furetian revisionism into a firmly empiricist Anglophone context.

However, this still has its difficulties. Gauchet’s work is provocative, but also suffers from a poststructuralist inertia, especially around the idea of ‘the people’. After some active engagement in Chapter One, this becomes a rather static term in the later chapters. Moreover, by only considering Robespierre’s ideas, Gauchet can justify his limited and unreferenced source base: the Oeuvres complètes de Maximilien Robespierre (eleven volumes) with some supplementary material from fellow Montagnard Saint-Just and several assembly debates. This also leads to an implicit recognition of prior scholarship without critical engagement, Gauchet’s repeated use of Giorgio Agamben’s term ‘state of exception’ being one example.

The real promise in Gauchet’s work is with Robespierre-as-hauntology: a ghost the French are still trying to figure out how to exorcise. Gauchet considers this in his last chapter: should Robespierre be left to fall away in the hope of starting afresh, or must one come to terms with the Revolution through ‘trying to make sense of [Robespierre’s] dual character’ (4)? This is the continuing problem of the French Revolution for both Gauchet and Robespierre: how to finish it.

 Gauchet concludes rather hopefully that the division between idealism and realism ‘seems at least in part dispelled’: ‘France appears to have found a way, if not to resolve the dilemma, then at least to make it more tractable’ (8). Yet, given the contexts of the deeply divided recent French legislative elections and the alleged attack on Lescureux, the delay in translation between 2018 and 2022 has left Gauchet’s more hopeful conclusions seeming dated. However, this does not weaken Gauchet’s argument: Robespierre is still the man who continues to divide the French, and this work is a timely intervention in a France which continues to be fatally politically polarised.

Book Review: Robespierre : The Man Who Divides Us the Most by Marcel Gauchet. By Leon Hughes.. London School of Economics Review of Books, July 26,  2022







 Before Hitler and Stalin (and Putin), there was Maximilien Robespierre, the leader of the French Revolution during the period in 1793–1794 known as the Terror. If Napoleon Bonaparte had not come to power and made war on much of Europe between 1799 and 1815, Robespierre would have been the most controversial figure of his time. Yet he did not rule for long, did not govern alone, and began his political career as a staunch proponent of liberal democracy: he argued against slavery, the death penalty, and poll taxes; favored freedom of religion and the press; and opposed France’s rush to declare war on Austria in 1792. Known to his followers as “the Incorruptible” because he disdained those who profited from the circumstances of revolution and war, he nonetheless became the face of all that was most repugnant in the French Revolution.

Was he just a scapegoat, the sacrificial victim who could be blamed in retrospect for the Terror—for the many thousands who were executed and the hundreds of thousands imprisoned as suspects, for the muzzling of the press and the repression of all dissent? Robespierre fell from power on July 27, 1794, when his fellow deputies in the National Convention, the legislature that governed France from 1792 to 1795, ordered his arrest. Declared an outlaw after his supporters got him released from custody, he was recaptured and guillotined the next day. His fall set in motion a startling change of direction, much to the surprise of those who had brought him down. They had intended only to rid themselves of a political enemy who seemed poised to act against them. Their leaders included some who had undertaken brutal purges of their own in the provinces, rivals further to Robespierre’s left on the Committee of Public Safety, which ran the government, and deputies who feared for one reason or another that they would be next on the list of those declared traitors.

The deed once done, they tried at first to portray it as a victory for the people of Paris and the deputies over a determined tyrant and his small band of followers. But the repercussions could not be contained, and almost immediately the most objectionable policies were dismantled. The draconian law of June 10, 1794, limiting the rights of defendants and broadening the definition of “suspects” was repealed; in addition to the usual “enemies of the people,” it had included those who “sought to inspire discouragement,” those who “disseminated false news,” and those who sought “to undermine the energy and the purity of revolutionary and republican principles.”

The chief prosecutor of the revolutionary court was tried and executed. Some of those who had conspired to remove Robespierre faced detention in their turn, while suspects in Parisian prisons found themselves free again. The Convention curbed the powers of the Committee of Public Safety, and when the cascade of changes further emboldened those who opposed the repressive policies, the deputies closed the Jacobin Club, which had been the political base for so many of them during five tumultuous years.

As part of the effort to move forward, the deputies needed to construct a convincing narrative about the events of the previous year. Since it was impossible to blame Robespierre for everything—his only claim to institutional power was membership on the twelve-man Committee of Public Safety—they had to dig deep in order to portray him as the chief architect of the regime of terror. The official report on him and his “accomplices” claimed that though Robespierre was “timid and fearful,” “he wanted to drive men to tyranny” by pushing for social leveling; denouncing merchants, property owners, and the rich in general; undermining discipline in the armies through the dissemination of radical newspapers to soldiers; setting up an elaborate network of domestic spies to report on any possible dissent; and accusing of “moderationism” anyone who opposed the mass indiscriminate executions. Perfidy followed from Robespierre’s character, according to the report: his desire for domination, corrosive envy of his rivals, personal lack of talent and hatred therefore of those with any merit, vindictive pride, and dislike of any celebrity other than his own.

In order to make sense of Robespierre’s supposed ascendancy, the report also had to lay out the litany of praises found in the letters sent by individuals and popular clubs to their “idol,” “their new god, Maximilien.” The report’s author laments having seen “everywhere, the same prostitution of incense, best wishes, and homages” in encomiums such as “the contribution of his rare talents,” “the incorruptible,” “the virtuous” Robespierre “who covers the cradle of the Republic with the aegis of his eloquence,” and “the firm support and unshakeable pillar of the Republic.”

Although insincere glorification of tyrants is certainly not unknown, Robespierre’s opponents were effectively acknowledging the deep division of opinion that would haunt debates for more than two hundred years. Was he just what the fledgling republic required in order to survive civil conflict and unrelenting war with virtually all of France’s neighbors, as his adherents believed? Was he a temporary aberration whose removal would set the republic back on course, as his gravediggers hoped? Or was he proof that violent revolution in the name of rights and social justice could only result in terror, violence, and ultimately authoritarianism, as some later commentators argued?

These questions are, as might be expected, especially troubling in France, which is why Marcel Gauchet subtitles his book “The Man Who Divides Us the Most,” “us” being the French. Yet the French are not the only ones concerned, since Gauchet’s preoccupation with Robespierre follows from his decades-long study of the philosophical underpinnings of modern democracy more generally. His work is not well known in the Anglophone world, though the controversies provoked by some of his opinions about current issues do echo more widely.

Although he began his career on the antitotalitarian left and still claims to be a socialist, Gauchet has been denounced in some French circles as reactionary, misogynistic, and homophobic. His 2004 essay on the potential negative consequences of increasing human control over procreation, rather than making do with what happens, prompted especially heated responses. Titled “The Child of Desire” and published in the journal he edited, Le Débat, known for its hard-line centrism, the essay seemed to bemoan the end of patriarchy, with its subjugation of women, by advancing the claim that “many children of desire will never know clearly who they are nor what they want,” because “they will remain forever dependent on this desire that brought them to life.”

The accusations against Gauchet came to a head when he was asked to open the annual “rendezvous with history” in 2014. It is not easy for Americans to comprehend the popularity and influence of this festival, which is held in the Loire Valley town of Blois every October and draws some 40,000 avid participants to lectures, interviews, films, and panel discussions focused on recently published history books. An op-ed by a group of scholars in Le Monde in October 2014 insisted that Gauchet could hardly speak credibly about that year’s theme of “rebels,” since he encouraged conformism to “hierarchy, moral order, [and] tradition,” values brandished by the far right.

Such characterizations of Gauchet’s positions are mistaken, I believe, but hardly surprising, given the stakes of the arguments he wants to make about modern democracy and the way that he often goes about making them. Modern democracies, he maintains, emerged as the religious foundations of collective existence crumbled; religion did not disappear, of course, but it no longer provided the crucial legitimation for the political and social order. Modern democracies therefore face the challenge of explaining to the citizenry what holds society together in the absence of any transcendental justification.

 Gauchet is not convinced that human rights can fill the void, and his one overriding concern is that the modern emphasis on the individual and his or her rights will wear away the necessary foundations for a functioning social order. The fuzzy abstraction of his prose has left open the possibility, despite his disavowals in interviews, that he supports those who oppose the rights of women, gays, or minorities. The language in “The Child of Desire” is a case in point. He seems to criticize the right to choose whether or not to have a child, but at the end of the piece he makes clear that he has no wish to return to an authoritarian past; he does, however, want to consider what the costs of emancipation might be, both for society and for the individual.

Similarly, he wants to consider the difficulties faced by democracies, whose very existence depends on emancipation from traditional sources of authority. Democracy is inherently fragile because of the difficulty of explaining what holds people together in a secular world, and as a consequence, Gauchet maintains, it has a predisposition toward authoritarianism and even totalitarianism. Robespierre is therefore a perfect foil for Gauchet, because “he embodied the attempt to give liberty and equality their most complete expression” while personifying “the failure to make a viable system of government from these principles.” At a time when democracies face external and internal threats around the world, Robespierre is more relevant than ever.

Both the virtues and the defects of Gauchet’s approach are on view in Robespierre: The Man Who Divides Us Most, which is mercifully short in comparison with many of his other books. The defects are easily recounted: he largely ignores what has been written by others about his subject (whether democracy in general or Robespierre in particular) and glides past the nitty-gritty of everyday politics and social tensions in order to concentrate on the ways in which Robespierre fits into his larger arguments about democracy. This is not an unknown strategy in French writing about history and politics; the more polemical the essay, the less attention is paid to competing accounts or supporting documentation. (Gauchet provides virtually no footnotes.) In this spirit, he leaves aside any examination of Robespierre’s biography and considers only his writings and speeches.

Given the steady stream of biographies of Robespierre, many of them excellent, such an approach can be warranted only if it provides a fresh perspective. The virtue of Gauchet’s book is his laser-like focus on the one belief that shaped Robespierre’s constantly evolving opinions and actions: that government should reflect the will of the people, but particular interests, often involving conspiracies, stand in the way of the triumph of that general will. Viewing this prissy lawyer from northern France as a political philosopher would be a stretch, since the exigencies of the situation left him little time for writing essays, much less books or memoirs. Gauchet therefore aims at a middle ground where ideas meet events: “The innermost impulses that gave rise to Robespierre’s conduct are inseparable from a body of ideas that coalesced with them to form a system.”

Robespierre’s peculiar hold on his fellow deputies has long been one of the greatest mysteries of the entire French Revolution: How could this unprepossessing, previously unknown lawyer come to incarnate the Revolution in its most intense period? Gauchet is right to argue that Robespierre’s “manner of expression communicated the promise of the moment with a clearness and a precision that gradually elevated him to a preeminent place among his peers.” But he downplays the paradox involved, which was best captured by one of Robespierre’s erstwhile friends turned enemies, Marie-Jeanne Roland, who wrote while awaiting her execution in 1793:

   “His talent as an orator was worse than mediocre; his commonplace voice, his bad turns of phrase, his defective manner of speaking made his delivery extremely boring. But he defended principles with warmth and tenacity; he had the courage then [the king’s attempted flight in June 1791] to continue [to defend those principles] at a time when the defenders of the people were tremendously reduced in number.”

 




In other words, though Robespierre’s views evolved over time, he never stopped portraying himself as the mouthpiece for the will of the people. He was not being inconsistent, therefore, when he held back at first from supporting the creation of a republic; he could imagine kings as “delegates” or “agents” of the people, even if Louis XVI could not. He proposed few laws yet soon gained a reputation for constantly reminding the deputies of the gap between “what the Revolution promised and what it had so far achieved.” Before long, however, as Gauchet shows, Robespierre’s “craving for popularity” deepened his identification with the general will. “The interest, the desire of the people is that of nature, of humanity; it is the general interest,” he argued in a speech in December 1790. He believed he knew the meaning and direction of that interest and that those who opposed the people (or him) represented only their own “ambition, pride, cupidity.”

Robespierre combined this unshakable confidence in the will of the people and his ability to interpret it with an obsessive dread of conspiracy, which he proclaimed from the first days of the Revolution. He did not invent the fear of treachery, but he certainly contributed to its credence. Alarm about secret plotting, sometimes delusional, sometimes not, would eventually justify ever more drastic measures of repression. It also fueled what Gauchet calls Robespierre’s “sacrificial narcissism,” his ostentatious self-abnegation combined with repeated references to himself as a martyr. These reached their zenith right before his fall, when he replied to those who accused him of seeking dictatorial powers, “Who am I, I who am accused? A slave of liberty, a living martyr of the Republic, as much the victim as the enemy of crime.”

Gauchet takes the dictator charge seriously but in the end argues that “his language was dictatorial, not his person.” Robespierre resembled a dictator in his ability to intimidate, but the intimidation did not include actual dictatorial powers. Gauchet’s way of putting this is characteristically abstract:

   “History provides us with no other example of someone who succeeded in objectively exercising a kind of dictatorship without subjectively putting himself in the position of a dictator, which is to say, as a practical matter, without providing himself with the means of actually exercising dictatorial power.”

Because the deputies had been brought up reading Roman history and had the example of Oliver Cromwell even closer to hand, they worried incessantly about a dictator emerging from their midst. One was coming, but not until Robespierre had lain in his grave for more than five years.

Given Gauchet’s interest in the moral foundations of modern democracy, it is perhaps not surprising that he attributes Robespierre’s eventual downfall to his differences with other members of the Committee of Public Safety over religion. Robespierre viewed the campaign for de-Christianization in late 1793 with growing alarm and eventually denounced it. He then tried to inaugurate a Rousseau-style deistic alternative known as the Cult of the Supreme Being, whose festival he presided over in early June 1794.




Robespierre had in effect anticipated Gauchet’s own line of argument. Gauchet argues that Robespierre “ran up against the vicious circle to which any attempt to found a new regime on the basis of revolutionary principles is bound to lead.” In late 1792 Robespierre had concluded, “In order to form our political institutions, we would need to have the morals that one day they ought to give to us.” Gauchet calls this statement prophetic, but it comes right out of Rousseau’s Social Contract (1762). In his section on the need for a supreme legislator, Rousseau argued:

     “For a young people to be able to relish sound principles of political theory and follow the fundamental rules of statecraft, the effect would have to become the cause; the social spirit, which should be created by these institutions, would have to preside over their very foundation; and men would have to be before law what they should become by means of law.”

Rousseau then concluded that this paradox explains why the fathers of nations “have recourse to divine intervention and credit the gods with their own wisdom.”

Although Gauchet emphasizes the differences between Robespierre and his enemies on the subject of religion, he cannot ignore the many other factors that contributed to Robespierre’s fall: the shock that followed the arrest, trial, and execution of Georges Danton and his followers, all of them staunch republicans, as traitors in April 1794; the spectacle of Robespierre as president of the National Convention presiding over his cherished Cult of the Supreme Being just two days before the infamous Law of Suspects deepened the dread among the deputies; and then, in a politically suicidal move, his withdrawal from public view for six weeks, only to reappear with vague threats against unnamed deputies. His enemies needed no further encouragement.

Gauchet’s Robespierre is a tragic figure because he brought an “ancient ideal of religious unity” to what would become modern problems. But he was not the only one who failed to establish a lasting republic in France in the 1790s; his successors failed, too. The only sustainable one on view, in the new United States of America, was very precarious, and it had the advantage of no aristocracy, no heritage of feudalism, supposedly unlimited land and resources, and, above all, distance from Europe. The American republicans barely managed to learn the lesson that is crucial to any democracy’s life expectancy: the alternation of power through an electoral process. Robespierre could not conceive it because he could not imagine that a political party was anything other than a particular interest, and therefore it was incompatible with the general will of the people. It is a lesson that is very hard to learn.

I, the People. By Lynn Hunt. The New York Review of Books, June 23, 2022. 




Princeton University Press







According​ to the French revolutionary calendar, Year I began in September 1792 with the abolition of the Bourbon monarchy and the declaration of a republic. In the National Convention, the new legislative assembly in Paris, the Montagnard faction quickly achieved dominance after two early victories. First, in the winter of 1792-93, it secured the execution of the dethroned Louis XVI. Next, it crushed the largest group in the Convention, the Girondins, whose leaders were ousted in June 1793 when 80,000 armed citizens marched on the Tuileries (the former royal palace housing the Convention) and demanded their arrest. Like Louis XVI, many of the Girondins landed in jail and then on the scaffold. Before long, other enemies of the Montagnards, including internal dissidents, came to the same end.
 
The Montagnards owed their name to the location of the benches where they sat in the Convention, up near the rafters. And they owed their moral authority to their best-known member, Maximilien de Robespierre, a previously obscure lawyer from the northern town of Arras whose stringent personal integrity and uncompromising civic virtue had earned him the nickname ‘the Incorruptible’. For better or worse, his political fortunes became increasingly indissociable from those of his allies and of France – until his downfall on the date remembered as 9 Thermidor Year II (27 July 1794). Within a few years, the resulting power vacuum was filled by another dictator in the making, Napoléon Bonaparte, described by Germaine de Staël as ‘Robespierre on horseback’.
 
Robespierre had achieved national prominence in the winter of 1792-93, when he led the Montagnards in making the case for regicide. In 1790, he had coined what would prove the enduring motto of the Revolution – liberté, égalité, fraternité – and now he sealed the king’s fate with a maxim: ‘Louis must die so that the republic might live.’ When the Convention was stormed six months later, he exhorted the people of Paris to take up arms ‘against all corrupt deputies’, calling it a ‘moral insurrection’.
 
With his diminutive stature (he was five foot three), awkward manner (he avoided eye contact and suffered from nervous tics in his neck, shoulders, eyelids and hands), unimpressive appearance (pointy features, hooded eyes and sallow, pockmarked skin) and cold, priggish disposition (more than one critic likened him to a priest), Robespierre was an unlikely revolutionary hero. Beside the Comte de Mirabeau and Georges Danton, two burly, lusty firebrands, he cut a puny figure (if Mirabeau was ‘the Torch of Provence’, the joke went, Robespierre was ‘the Candle of Arras’). But his fierce populism won him the loyalty of Paris’s municipal authority, the Commune, and its most influential political club, the Jacobins, a militant organisation with close ties to the lower-class sans-culottes. Both these groups had mobilised for the purge of the Girondins – as they had for other Parisian uprisings, known as revolutionary ‘journées’ – and their backing gave Robespierre a formidable advantage. This became a cause of resentment and distrust among his fellow deputies, most of whom, like him, belonged to the educated bourgeoisie. Some began to mutter about his autocratic aims, speculation that would continue to dog him.
 
In July 1793, Robespierre, aged 35, joined the Committee of Public Safety, a twelve-member administrative arm of the Convention that soon assumed effective control of the government. His position on the committee consolidated his political supremacy, despite the fact that, according to one of his detractors, ‘he never had the slightest idea about government, administration or diplomacy.’ ‘Money frightens Robespierre,’ his friend-turned-foe Danton remarked, and this didn’t help either, given the problems affecting the French economy, from runaway inflation to widespread poverty and famine. His ignorance of military strategy was also unfortunate, since France was fighting wars on two fronts: abroad (against a coalition of European monarchical superpowers) and at home (against Catholic royalist rebels in the provinces). In fact, before the founding of the republic Robespierre had argued forcefully against war. His volte-face formed part of a larger pattern of political flip-flopping that might have fatally damaged the credibility of other political leaders.
 
Robespierre wasn’t interested in the finer points of ideology or administration, but in the grand, abstract principles of Rousseau’s Social Contract. The ideal polity Rousseau envisioned drew its legitimacy from the general will; as such, it required the rigorous sacrifice of all private interests on the altar of the public good. To citizens shirking this imperative, the Rousseauist state assigned the ‘right to death’; to its legislators, it prescribed unimpeachable morality. These principles animated the frequent addresses Robespierre delivered at the Convention, the Jacobins and other political clubs, in which the force of his eloquence and the loftiness of his vision transfixed his audiences. Anatole France evoked one such appearance in his novel The Gods Will Have Blood (1912):
 
   “ A young man with ... a pockmarked face and an air of cold self-possession slowly mounted the tribune ... Speaking in a clear voice, he delivered an eloquent, logical attack on the enemies of the Republic. He dealt forcibly [with them] by means of uncompromising and metaphysical arguments ... He spoke at great length, his sentences flowing smoothly and harmoniously. Soaring into the rarer spheres of philosophy, he hurled his thunderbolts at the base conspirators crawling on the ground. [He] raised his [listeners’] thoughts far above gross material happenings [and] simplified everything, revealing the good and the evil in simple, clear terms. “
 
In these moments, Jules Michelet wrote, ‘it was much more than a man that had spoken.’ Robespierre transformed into the people itself: the Revolution’s transcendent collective hero.
 
In the autumn of 1793, seeking to maintain control of an increasingly restive and fractious country, the Convention declared a state of emergency. Invoking semi- dictatorial war powers, Robespierre and his cronies on the Committee of Public Safety suspended the constitution they had drafted only months earlier. Instead, they made ‘terror the order of the day’. This is the way Robespierre explained it:
 
    “The resource of a people’s government [‘gouvernement populaire’] during a revolution is simultaneously virtue and terror; virtue, without which terror is disastrous; terror, without which virtue is powerless. Terror is nothing other than prompt, severe, inflexible justice; it is thus an emanation of virtue. “
 





In late September, a decree was issued mandating the arrest of counter-revolutionaries. This Law of Suspects was broad enough to apply to almost anyone.
 
    “Are suspect, and must be arrested as such: those who, in popular assemblies, interrupt the energy of the people with artificial discourses, tumultuous shouts, even whispers; those more prudent individuals who speak mysteriously about the republic’s misfortunes; those who do not attend public meetings and try to excuse their absence by saying they do not know how to speak. “
 
Those charged had to stand trial before the Revolutionary Tribunal, and convictions often carried the death sentence. An addendum to the law, setting a fixed price called the General Maximum for food staples, dealt equally harshly with price-gougers. Initially formulated as a response to the journée of 5 September – when sans-culottes again invaded the Convention, this time protesting their hunger – the General Maximum worsened the crisis it was intended to solve by raising the prices of common foods and so deepening the famine. It made the lower classes even angrier by disproportionately targeting small shopkeepers and sparing larger, more prosperous businesses.
 
The policy of terror grew even more oppressive in June 1794, when, without consulting their colleagues on the Committee of Public Safety, Robespierre and his ally Georges Couthon forced the Convention to enact the Law of 22 Prairial. Their unilateral action was of a piece with a document Simon Schama describes as ‘the founding charter of totalitarian justice’. The Law of 22 Prairial reorganised the Revolutionary Tribunal in order to speed up trials, and criminalised nebulous offences like ‘spreading false news’, ‘slandering patriotism’ and ‘impairing the purity ... of the revolutionary government’. It enjoined ‘every citizen to seize conspirators and counter-revolutionaries and bring them to the magistrates’ and denied due process to individuals supposedly fleeing justice. In Paris, there was an explosion in the number of daily arrests and executions. The Revolutionary Tribunal and the guillotine worked overtime, and shallow mass graves brimmed with putrefying, headless corpses.
 
Robespierre underwent another metamorphosis in the public imagination, from populist icon to bloodthirsty villain. A contemporary satirist produced a cartoon with the caption ‘Robespierre, after having guillotined France, its government and its inhabitants, guillotines the executioner.’ As civil unrest intensified, Robespierre’s view of the people also changed for the worse: ‘The people to whom Robespierre had dedicated his life might well take to the streets to clamour for the heads of conspirators,’ Patrice Gueniffey wrote, ‘but never to demand bread.’ Robespierre made his new attitude painfully clear when, after instituting a deistic state religion on 8 June, he pronounced atheism a graver social ill than famine. (His reasoning – in Schama’s wry paraphrase – was that ‘while “we” could stand hunger, no one could stand “crime”.’) On 23 July, he further alienated his base by signing, under pressure from business owners, a Wage Maximum that significantly decreased many workers’ earnings.
 
Unnerved by death threats and assassination plots, Robespierre acquired a trio of bodyguards armed with clubs. In the end, however, his undoing was not the work of a murderous stranger but of his adversaries inside the government. On 26 July (8 Thermidor), he provoked them with a speech he gave, first in the Convention and then at the Jacobin Club (where he presciently described it as ‘my last will and testament’). Entitled ‘Against New Factions and Corrupt Deputies’, the two-hour-long harangue warned of the ‘imminent dangers’ France supposedly faced from its own leadership: members of the Convention whose ostensible patriotism masked their secret counter-revolutionary aims. But while Robespierre pledged to root out and destroy these ‘privileged conspirators, these inviolable enemies of the republic’, he refused to name them. The result was that a number of his colleagues – especially those with whom he had clashed – were left with the not unreasonable fear that he was targeting them for persecution and death.
 
More than any principled opposition, it was this fear that drove a motley crew of deputies – including Bertrand Barère, Paul Barras, Jacques-Nicolas Billaud-Varenne, Jean-Marie Collot d’Herbois, Lazare Carnot and Jean-Lambert Tallien – to topple him. They did so by means of a hasty coup on 9 Thermidor, the day after his speech. The key events are well known. Robespierre’s foes shouted him down on the Convention floor and had him arrested with his closest allies, though when he arrived at the Luxembourg prison, he was rescued by a detachment of loyalists from the Commune who carried him off to their headquarters. At this point, both the Commune and the Convention began to mobilise for an armed confrontation and Parisians braced themselves for another insurrectionary journée. Late that evening the Convention issued a decree declaring him an outlaw, necessitating – per his own Law of 22 Prairial – his prompt ‘deliver[y] to the magistrates’, and ultimately causing his supporters to back down. During the night, Robespierre sustained a gunshot wound to the jaw: the result of a botched assassination or a suicide attempt. The next day, 10 Thermidor, he was led to the guillotine, where he uttered not a lofty final address, but a bloodcurdling scream as the executioner ripped the bandage from his jaw.
 




In​ The Fall of Robespierre: 24 Hours in Revolutionary Paris, Colin Jones, a professor of history at Queen Mary, offers a suspenseful and original account of this episode. The book is suspenseful because, even though we know the way things end, it relates the build-up to Robespierre’s execution in breathless detail. Mining abundant archival material (from the reports of government functionaries, soldiers and spies to the diaries and letters of private citizens of all political beliefs), Jones shows how turbulence, confusion and contingency shaped each moment of that day. ‘The outcome of the journée,’ he writes,
 
   “ depended on decisions made in the course of these 24 hours by hosts of individuals caught up at all levels of the drama and at key moments in the flux of the day ... From the most elevated through to the most humble city-dweller ... Parisians sought to read the runes and to comprehend the minutiae of the day so as to determine their best course of action. To mobilise or not to mobilise? To rally to Robespierre and the Commune or to support the National Convention? The day’s outcome depended on a million micro-decisions made by Parisians across the expanse of the city. “
 
This passage also points to the originality of Jones’s approach, which combines its proto-Aristotelian ‘unity of time’ (restricting the action to a 24-hour period) with a sprawling cast drawn from seemingly every walk of life and corner of the city. By bringing into focus the ‘micro-narratives’ of two hundred men and women, Jones demonstrates that the Thermidorian ‘outcome was determined not just by politicians’ machinations, but also as a result of a huge process of collective action by the people of Paris’.
 
The Fall of Robespierre does not ignore the role played by his opponents within the political elite, however. Tallien, for instance, appears in an early tableau, rushing through the streets of Paris before dawn on 9 Thermidor, calling on other political players in their homes to argue for a putsch, and, he hopes, ‘making allies that will astonish the sleeping Robespierre’. But Jones weaves this high-stakes politicking into a broader and deeper narrative that foregrounds the experiences of ordinary Parisians. In one characteristic vignette, a war-manufactory worker called Pierre Burguburu brings the (unidentified) woman he has just married to the Jacobin Club for their honeymoon, only to learn of Robespierre’s arrest. Dismayed by the ‘flaccidity’ of the club’s response, Burguburu rushes back home – presumably with his bride in tow – to Gardes-Françaises, a small, middle-class district just north of the Louvre. There he tries without documented success to spur his neighbours to action.
 
Also present at the Jacobin Club is Jean-Baptiste Didier, ‘a journeyman locksmith from Choisy’ and a former member of Robespierre’s bodyguard. Presumably trusting to his record of loyalty, the club sends Didier to the Commune as part of a delegation charged with finding out its plan of attack. But when he leaves the club, Didier decides it is ‘in his interests to opt out altogether and go straight home, leaving his hero to his fate’. The reader understands Didier’s decision better for having encountered another of Robespierre’s bodyguards, the goldsmith Pierre-François Girard, who ‘freely admits’ that the Incorruptible treated him and his comrades ‘arrogantly, as if they were not there. The only occasion on which Robespierre had addressed a word to him was to ask him the time.’
 
Other micro-narratives feature men and women who play no part at all in the political events, but whose ancillary dramas enrich our understanding of their human context. These supporting actors include a provincial girl new to Paris whom a stranger ‘comforts’, or rapes, in her bed while the National Guard passes under the window; a ‘hyper-enthusiastic’ Communard who had made a fortune before 1789 by supplying wallpaper to the Royal Household; a noblewoman who uses a broken windowpane to cut off her own hair rather than allow the executioner to sully ‘these sad remains of myself’; a labourer whom a spy overhears complaining ‘we are dying of hunger while they mock us with pretty speeches’; and a prison guard who calls his favourite mastiff Robespierre. By incorporating these figures, Jones restores specificity to the abstraction – le peuple – that Robespierre, and so many of his colleagues, worshipped. ‘Although the Convention sounds with endless invocations of the people,’ Jones observes, ‘the deputies know very little about the lives of the majority of Parisians close up.’ When Robespierre stepped up to the guillotine, he was finally sharing in a common experience.
 
Much more than a Man. By Caroline Weber. London Review of Books. March 24, 2022









Two and a quarter centuries after he was guillotined on what is now Place de la Concorde in Paris, Maximilien Robespierre remains one of modern history’s most divisive figures. For his critics, he was a dogmatic, bloodthirsty ideologue whose conduct of the Terror during the French Revolution’s most extreme phase in 1793-94 foreshadowed the methods of dictators such as Vladimir Lenin and Mao Zedong. For his supporters, he was an inspiring, principled idealist who embodied the revolution’s promises of democracy, individual freedom and social and economic progress.
 
Robespierre, a slightly built, fastidiously dressed lawyer from northern France who existed on a diet of mostly coffee and oranges, was only 36 when his life ended after a day of political drama that historians regard as one of the revolution’s three defining moments. The first was July 14 1789, when crowds in Paris stormed the Bastille. The second was August 10 1792, when an uprising brought down the Bourbon monarchy. The third was July 27 1794, known under the new republic’s calendar as 9 Thermidor of Year II.
 
On 9 Thermidor, Robespierre’s rivals in the Committee of Public Safety, France’s emergency ruling body, and the Convention, the national legislature, turned against him and crushed his support in the Commune, Paris’s city government, and the radical Jacobin Club. Along with Louis de Saint-Just, Georges Couthon and other allies, Robespierre was executed the next day. The Terror and militant political extremism gave way to a more conservative regime that Napoleon Bonaparte swept aside in 1799.
 
It is testimony to the central place occupied by the French Revolution in the world’s imagination that the events of 9 Thermidor continue to be retold generation after generation. In The Fall of Robespierre, Colin Jones achieves the exceptional feat of putting 9 Thermidor in a new perspective with an hour-by-hour, at times almost minute-by-minute, account of the struggle for power. A professor at Queen Mary University of London and a prominent scholar of 18th-century France, Jones injects pace and verve into his book by writing in the historical present tense, but he also provides the background necessary for readers less familiar with the revolution’s main personalities and themes.
 
As Jones explains, such microscopic, multi-layered history is possible because “it would be difficult to think of another day in the whole of the 18th century on which sources are so copious and dense”. Police dossiers, newspapers, political memoirs and the reports on 9 Thermidor submitted by each of Paris’s 48 “sections”, or administrative units, form the backbone of his material. Stitching together these accounts, Jones concludes: “The day was not pre-planned. It just happened.”
 
For sure, Robespierre made clear in menacing speeches to the Convention and Jacobin Club on 8 Thermidor that he was contemplating an intensification of the Terror. He was obsessed with the notion that “corruption” had spread into France’s government organs as part of a “foreign plot” organised by William Pitt, the British prime minister. However, Robespierre spent the night of 8/9 Thermidor quietly in his lodgings on rue Saint-Honoré, a sign in Jones’s view that he probably intended to launch his purge in the near future, not in the next 24 hours.
 
As for his rivals, they grasped the need to strike at Robespierre before he struck at them. The guillotining of Georges Danton, Camille Desmoulins and other revolutionaries earlier in 1794 preyed on their minds. Yet they, too, had no master plan. From the most gripping passages of Jones’s narrative, which cover the Convention’s debates of late morning and early afternoon of 9 Thermidor, it becomes clear that verbal attacks on Robespierre swelled in a largely uncoordinated wave that in just a few hours produced a unanimously passed motion for his arrest.
 
    Jones is no apologist for Robespierre but he contends that . . . he represented the democratic, progressive values of the revolution better than anyone
 
Jones departs from some accounts of 9 Thermidor by stressing the support offered by ordinary Parisians to Robespierre’s foes in the Convention. He argues that the people of Paris rose up not against the Terror but in defence of the gains of the revolution since 1789, perceived on 9 Thermidor as under threat from pro-Robespierre radicals at the Commune.
 
Jones is no apologist for Robespierre but he contends that, in his early political career, he represented the democratic, progressive values of the revolution better than anyone. Yet if Robespierre had prevailed on 9 Thermidor, how much worse would the Terror have become? Was he temperamentally capable of ending it? We cannot know for sure, but Jones’s enthralling, incisively argued book is a fine contribution to the debate.
 
The Fall of Robespierre: 24 Hours in Revolutionary Paris by Colin Jones Oxford University Press,  592 pages
 
The Fall of Robespierre by Colin Jones — a revolutionary end. By Tony Barber. The Financial Times, October 18, 2021. 




Colin Jones’s hour-by-hour reconstruction of the fall of Maximilien Robespierre, the French revolutionary most associated with the Terror, is inspired by Louis-Sébastien Mercier, who believed that only by getting ‘up close’ to the ‘infinitely small’ details would it be possible to understand the truth about a Revolution that was stranger than fiction.


Mercier (1740-1815) was an early science fiction novelist, a journalist, politician and Parisian. He was not an eyewitness to the fall of Robespierre because he was in prison in 1794, one of 73 moderate members of the governing Convention who had been arrested and held as ‘Robespierre’s hostages’. The Convention was a representative body of 749 deputies, charged with designing a republican constitution for France. But only 200 were required for quoracy, so the Convention could function without the 73 moderates and without the many others who had been sent out ‘on mission’ to impose order on a country riven by foreign and civil war.

On 28 July 1794, 9 Thermidor, Mulberry Day in the revolutionary calendar, Robespierre and his close colleague Saint-Just planned to make speeches at the Convention that would lift the veil on the most recent counter-revolutionary conspiracies, foreign plots and corruption. Saint-Just was known for carrying his head around as though it was the holy sacrament, and Robespierre was nicknamed ‘the Incorruptible’.
 
They were a sanctimonious and terrifying pair, determined to set the new republic on a path of virtue, and concerned about the ‘impure breed’ of people who might blight the social and economic sunlit uplands they saw ahead. Together they had pushed through legislation known as the 22 Prairial Law, by which it became easier and quicker to identify and execute ‘enemies of the people’. So-called ‘batches’ of the supposedly guilty were going under the guillotine every day. In these circumstances, announcing that yet another plot was about to be unveiled caused every member of the Convention, and many others besides, to fear for their lives.

Saint-Just stayed up into the early hours of the morning perfecting his speech, whereas Robespierre slept soundly and reassured the artisan family with whom he lodged in the rue Saint-Honoré that there was nothing to fear as he set off for the Convention after an abstemious breakfast. However, both men were prevented from delivering their speeches; instead arrest warrants were issued for them and their closest associates. There then ensued a further 24 hours of uncertainty, during which Mulberry Day turned into Watering Can Day, and it only gradually became clear that the people of Paris would ultimately support the Convention, not side with Robespierre, Saint-Just and the city’s Commune which had risen, or half-risen, in their defence.

Jones is clear that this is a book as much about Paris as about Robespierre. The hour- by-hour constraint he adopts allows him to broaden the narrative to include a panorama of Parisian life. Many were expecting 9 Thermidor to be a day of protests against the imposition of a wage maximum for Paris, an economic levelling policy that would have led to massive wage decreases for carpenters, blacksmiths and other workers. The police were busy with routine tasks: a locksmith and his wife, for example, were arrested at 3 a.m., while Robespierre was sleeping soundly, for possessing an Old Regime coin with Louis XVI on it, and a bunch of suspicious keys. ‘People have been guillotined for less,’ Jones remarks, deploying the historic present to electrifying effect. Later that morning, the revolutionary tribunal is about its grimly normal business. Forty-four people are sentenced to death, as well as the Princesse de Monaco, left over from the day before when she pretended to be pregnant to extend her life by just one day so she could cut her own hair off and bequeath it to her children.

Jones, whose previous books include The Smile Revolution in 18th-century Paris, notes that the hardened executioner Henri Sanson, descended from a family of executioners under the Old Regime, finds that many of his charges, struggling to master their feelings, smile as they mount the scaffold: ‘On the road to the guillotine, the smile has become a silent weapon of symbolic resistance.’

Assembling a wealth of detail from a vast range of archival resources, Jones sometimes revivifies the intensity of those revolutionary days in a way reminiscent of Hilary Mantel’s A Place of Greater Safety. But ultimately he is a historian, and there are questions that he wants to answer. Was Robespierre mad in the run up to 9 Thermidor? He had been absent from the Convention for six weeks before he announced his forthcoming speech on the need for another purge. He spoke of ‘unburdening his heart’, but in fact he was committing political suicide.

Jones argues this was not madness: it was typical of Robespierre’s abstract reasoning about the will of the people, which he claimed to vocalise without dominating. ‘A man who has never managed much in his life is unlikely to be able to manage an insurrection,’ Jones scathingly remarks. For him, Robespierre emerges a charismatic incompetent with the highest of all possible moral tones. In contrast, Mercier saw Robespierre as a ‘sanguinocrat’, or ruler by bloodshed.
 
Jones concludes that there was no elaborate plot against Robespierre that led to his downfall, and nor was he seriously conspiring to become a dictator or tyrant: ‘The day was not pre-planned. It just happened.’ It was only afterwards that it came to seem inevitable. In deciding to back the Convention over Robespierre, Saint-Just and the Parisians prepared to fight for them, the majority of the people in the streets chose institutions over personalities or political celebrities. For this reason, Jones argues, Robespierre’s fall was his greatest contribution to democracy, even though in its aftermath much of the democratic promise and progressive social and economic policies that had emerged since 1789 were destroyed. 9 Thermidor was about removing a man, not a government or a regime. Or as Marc Antoine Baudot, another of the members of the Convention, put it: ‘It wasn’t about principles; it was about killing.’

The men of blood get their comeuppance in Revolutionary France. By Ruth Scurr. The Spectator, August 28, 2021.




It's 227 years this week since Maximilien Robespierre went to the guillotine. We investigate the circumstances of his downfall.

In this brilliantly analytical episode, Professor Colin Jones, one of the finest living scholars of early modern France, takes us back to one of the most dramatic episodes in all political history: 9-10 Thermidor in the Revolutionary Calendar, or 27-28 July in ours.

As Jones explains, Robespierre began 9 Thermidor feeling relatively secure as he went to sleep in his austere lodgings near the Place de la Révolution. By the time the sun set into the summer horizon, his position was parlous. The next day he would be dead.

The story and characters that feature in this episode of Travels Through Time are drawn from Jones’s forthcoming book, The Fall of Robespierre: twenty four hours in Revolutionary Paris, which will soon be published by Oxford University Press. Peter Moore talks with Jones.

Colin Jones: The Fall of Robespierre (1794).   Travels Through Time, July 28, 2021.   


 

So momentous an event was the French Revolution, so labyrinthine its evolution and so far-reaching its consequences for the whole of Europe that it seems the purest folly to imagine that anything useful can be said about the subject in a book devoted to a single day. Yet, however improbably, that is exactly what this book sets out to do.

Still more eccentric is the book’s organisation. Traditional chapters are abandoned entirely. Instead we get five lengthy ‘parts’, each subdivided into a series of ever-faster-paced scenes, the shortest only a few paragraphs long. Each is headed merely by a simple indication of time and place: ‘10:45 am: Robespierre’s lodgings, 366 Rue Saint-Honoré’; ‘11:00 am: Tuileries palace and gardens’; ‘11:30 am: Vestibule to the Convention hall and environs’, and so on. One can almost hear the ticking of all those Parisian ormolu clocks.

Two things prevent all this from collapsing under the weight of its own wayward ambition. Colin Jones, one of the finest living scholars of early modern France, is no ordinary historian. And the day in question, 27 July 1794, was no ordinary day.

For 27 July 1794, ‘9 Thermidor Year II’ in the new republican calendar, has long been recognised as a ‘pivotal moment’ in the French Revolution. Until that point, the course of the revolution had been marked by increasing radicalism: France had gone from constitutional monarchy after the fall of the Bastille in 1789, to kingless republic in 1792, to wartime police state from 1793. After the events of 9 Thermidor, the trend was towards increasing conservatism. The democratic and reformist energies of the early revolution were mostly dissipated. Within a decade, France was again a monarchy, with a Corsican-born emperor in place of a Bourbon king.

This sudden bouleversement has conventionally been explained as a reaction to the guillotine-fixated excesses of the Revolutionary Government of Year II (1793–4) and the austere, donnish 35-year-old bachelor lawyer from Arras, Maximilien Robespierre, who was its malign presiding genius. With real power transferred after September 1793 from France’s revolutionary parliament, the National Convention, to a twelve-man Committee of Public Safety dominated by Robespierre, the regime had resorted to ‘terror’ as its principal means of deterring royal insurrection and purging ‘counter-revolutionary’ elements within its own ranks. After the new Law of 22 Prairial (10 June 1794), the rate of executions soared, with more ‘enemies of the state’ sent to the guillotine in Paris in June and July 1794 than in the whole period since the fall of the Bastille. When, on 26 July 1794, Robespierre addressed the Convention, urging the need for yet further purges, extending even to the Convention’s own members, his enemies in the government were provoked to act. They needed to neutralise Robespierre before he did the same to them.

The events of the following twenty-four hours provide the subject of Jones’s minutely detailed and unfailingly gripping new book. Robespierre’s fall was swift. On 9 Thermidor he was denounced in the Convention as a ‘tyrant’ and placed under arrest. There was unexpected resistance from Robespierre’s Jacobin allies in the city government, the Paris Commune, and its forces briefly secured their hero’s release. But the opposition was short-lived. By the middle of the night of 27–28 July, the city government’s headquarters had been overrun and Robespierre recaptured. Before sunset the following day, Robespierre and his principal supporters had been decapitated on what is now the Place de la Concorde.

In most accounts, that day of action is represented as a ‘kind of parliamentary coup d’état’. The speed of the regime’s fall and the Parisian citizenry’s apparent ‘indifference’ to its fate attested to its political and moral bankruptcy. With hindsight, the regime’s use of terror during the period of emergency rule was ‘essentialized’ as its defining characteristic. It became ‘the Terror’ with a capital T, with Robespierre singled out as its moving spirit: a ‘bestial, demonic specimen’, a buveur de sang (‘blood-drinker’).

But the French Revolution, as the playwright Louis-Sébastien Mercier observed, was ‘all about optics’. Jones’s superbly researched and strikingly original book produces an optic of a radically different kind. ‘Only by getting “up close” and drilling down into the “infinitely small” details of the revolutionary process’, its author insists, can the day’s course and outcome be understood. And for once this counsel of perfection can be put into practice. Interrogatories demanded by Paris’s military commander in the days immediately after the coup from officials in each of the city’s forty-eight administrative sections produced ‘micro-accounts’ from vantage points all over the city, many of them broken down into ‘quarter-hourly chunks’. Almost two hundred survive, along with voluminous newspaper sources and memoirs. There is probably not ‘another day in the whole of the eighteenth century’, Jones notes, for which ‘sources are so copious and dense’. And from this vast array of little-used archival material, a new and very different narrative emerges.

The purpose of the coup was not to topple the existing revolutionary regime, Jones contends, nor to end the use of terror, but rather to strengthen the regime by the removal of one dangerously over-powerful and increasingly erratic member. In reality, argues Jones, there was little or no ideological difference between Robespierre and the instigators of the coup against him. Most were fellow members of the central executive and as complicit in the use of terror as Robespierre himself.

Personality clashes, in particular resentment of Robespierre’s chilly and imperious style, proved more influential than questions of revolutionary principle. Far from being parties to a carefully worked-out conspiracy, his accusers in the Convention had no concerted plan of action and were blindsided when Robespierre’s arrest was challenged by his supporters within the Paris Commune. They ‘were improvising throughout the day’, and Robespierre’s allies were equally unprepared.
 
* * *

It is in the vivid detailing of these improvisations – chaotic, heroic, sometimes farcical – and the response to them by the Parisian citizenry that Jones’s book comes into its own. ‘The tendency among many historians’, he writes, ‘to see the night as one in which Parisians revealed political indifference is quite wrong.’ The outcome ‘depended on a million micro-decisions made by Parisians across the expanse of the city’.

Jones reveals how close th
ose Parisians came to conferring victory on Robespierre and his partisans. By nightfall on 27 July, they had not only rescued their hero from his Convention-appointed jailers but also deployed a force over two thousand-strong to the streets near the Tuileries palace, where the Convention, still in session in the palace’s former theatre, was at their mercy. But again there was no clear plan. Lacking any orders as to what to do next, the force’s hapless commander decided to withdraw his troops and return to the Maison Commune (just two kilometres to the east) for further instructions. The Robespierrists’ strategic advantage was never recovered.
 
These fatal difficulties in communication affected the day’s outcome at least as much as attitudes towards the Robespierrian regime. ‘Torpidity in the traffic of information seems to have been critical,’ writes Jones. Amid the confusion over the legality of orders, which side was prevailing and what the crisis was really about, control of print was vital. When it came to issuing orders, the Convention had a sophisticated printing establishment just two hundred metres away in the Place Vendôme; in contrast, ‘word of mouth and manuscript transmission’ were ‘pretty much all the Commune [could] manage’. Changes of side were frequent, as in the case of the artillery officer Cosme Pionnier, who at 8pm had his Robespierrist guns primed to bombard the Convention but by the end of the night had them aimed at the Maison Commune. So numerous were these ‘changes of heart’ that they undermine any explanation of 9 Thermidor simply in terms of ideology or popular hostility towards ‘the Terror’.

Jones handles this vast cast and the multiple locations with formidable directorial skill. Emancipated from the traditional chapter structure, he builds the narrative (and the tension) by cutting from scene to scene, observing his actors and bringing details into focus like a master of cinéma vérité. Even his use of the narrative present tense (usually the hammiest of literary devices) actually works.

If all this evokes the world of cinema, it is even more striking how clearly Jones’s drama manifests the formal characteristics of a tragédie, as prescribed by Corneille and Racine. It strictly observes the ‘three classical unities’: of action (a single great event), time (twenty-four hours) and place (Paris). Even its five-part structure corresponds to the five-act format insisted upon by the tragedians of the grand siècle.
Although this model is never overtly acknowledged, Jones is far too thoroughly steeped in French ancien-régime literature for this classicism of form and exposition to be entirely coincidental. Indeed, the book’s tragic dimension is essential to its revisionist purpose. Post-Thermidorian polemic dehumanised Robespierre as an animalistic ogre. As the tragic protagonist of Jones’s drama, Robespierre is not exonerated from the revolutionary regime’s excesses. But he is restored to his humanity and endowed with a kind of flawed greatness – a man of nobility and goodness who, in pursuit of a fine ideal, is induced to do what is monstrous and wrong.

This is not an airbrushed Robespierre. But in Jones’s account, Robespierre is, controversially, a figure of real pathos: a man whose earlier championing of Enlightenment principles, universal male suffrage, religious toleration, rights for women, emancipation for slaves and even (ironically) the abolition of the death penalty offered an ‘inspiring vision of a new, regenerated world of political virtue’. Robespierre was the man who expressed the ideals of the early French Revolution ‘most luminously’ and ‘in a way that can speak to us still’.

Those are fighting words, and it is not the least of this book’s virtues that they are destined to provoke much skirmishing on the historical barricades – not only about Robespierre, but also about the relative virtues and evils of the Revolutionary Government of Year II and whether there was a better future for France which those twenty-four hours of 9 Thermidor tragically foreclosed.

Night of the Guillotine. By John Adamson. Literary Review, July 2021. 






 





French philosopher, historian, and chief editor of the magazine Le Débat, Marcel Gauchet has been asking himself for almost 50 years about the construction of democracy and the issues of political power. Last year, he published the book Robespierre: l’homme qui nous divise le plus, Des hommes qui ont fait la France (“Robespierre: the man who divides us the most”, “Men who have helped build France”), which is dedicated to the legendary character of the French Revolution.

During the USI (Unexpected Sources of Inspiration) conferences, Marcel addressed a parallel between this founding event of modern democracy and the gilets jaunes movement (yellow vests movement, a French political movement for economic justice), which is seen as a contemporary revolution. Maddyness took a moment to discuss the role of innovation, new technologies, and social media in our current day democracies with him.

Maddyness. Are we programmed to reinvent 
what has always existed?

Marcel Gauchet. We have the choice between being subject to a resurgence of the past, which psychanalysists call suppressing, or we can take control of our past. We are faced with this challenge in our cultural situation today. For decades we’ve experimented with a sort of power takeover by knowledge which justifies the expression “knowledge society.” We don’t live through past glories. Yet, past events are susceptible to being called into question in terms of optimising knowledge, capable of providing better answers than those that have always existed.
The inconvenient part about this method, which won’t disappear anytime soon, is that it’s just the initial stage. It leaves out some important questions: what’ll be left of this past that we’re trying to improve upon if we don’t ask ourselves how it was created, to begin with? When we forget about it or we don’t take it into account, it has a tendency to keep coming back to remind us. We must reclaim the past so that we’re not subject to it or we’ll become puppets who have a grasp of reality but who’re always exposed to the debate of a past that we don’t control.
 
Maddyness. Don’t we support an idea of a better past with the saying “it was better before”?

MG. This expression is the fruit of ignorance. When we’re aware of the past, we don’t have a tendency to think that it was better before! Nostalgia is the fruit of disregarding the past. It’s a daily debate, represented by opposition between technophiles and technophobes, who’re both wrong. Saying that it was better before doesn’t give any idea about what it was like before. It isn’t a good start.
 
Maddyness. You talk about “presentism” which disregards the past to focus on the present. What about “futurism”?
 
MG. Futurism is just a form of presentism. The obsession of an unreasonable, more or less imaginary future leads to connecting yourself to the present because that’s where the future stems from. It’s because of the future that we get so caught up in the present without asking ourselves about what the future will be. No matter what we do or want, there will always be a mix between a legacy of the past and the product of the present.
 
Maddyness. How can we constructively integrate our past into a political or technological project that aims towards the future?

MG.This is the cultural challenge of our times. We’re entering a new period of the relationship between technology and the future that we’ve been building over the last few decades. There isn’t one solution, but we’ll need to find meaning in the past. It isn’t about being obsessed with the past, but we do need to understand that the past continues to dwell within us. Collective psychoanalysis should be done, which doesn’t mean taking care of ourselves but giving ourselves the best way to approach and enrich the future. Individuals who do this personally are already giving themselves an advantage.

Some have understood it; their actions are guided by a sort of search for balance. They ask themselves questions about end results and have a better vision of these results. In terms of economic-political efficiency, what you ignore from the past will confront you and you have to be prepared. The constant surprise of political figures about things they did not even seem to suspect was possible is one of the features of our society. However, it’s generally not very hard to foresee them.
 
Maddyness. Is social media the incarnation of Robespierre’s idea of democracy?

MG. I think that he would’ve been interested in it for sure. Yet there’s something that would’ve shocked him, which is that, contrary to one of his favourite guiding principles, people aren’t united. In fact, they’re very divided. This is the biggest difference between the yellow vests movement and the sans-culottes (literally “people without breeches”, the lower-class people who revolted against the French government because of the poor quality of life in late 18th century) who thought that the people were united and had a common idea: the general interest. Through democracy, yellow vests think that it’s not necessary to try to create unanimity, which would’ve been artificial. They’re still unified, but they admit that they don’t agree on everything. This would’ve deeply disturbed Robespierre.
 
Maddyness. Is it up to social media to highlight these diverse points of view?

MG. This is the nature of social media. Everyone communicates with everyone, but a unanimity can’t be reached. Democracy teaches us that unanimity never leads to very reasonable political decisions. There are always contradictions to consider, which is necessary for political excellence. This is why the yellow vests movement should be studied; they are perfectly conscious of this.

First of all, they don’t want representatives. But why? Not just because the representatives will inevitably be drawn into the official political scheme, but also because it’s impossible to represent so many differences. Power is an enormous challenge. When you have so many different complaints, it’s even harder to respond to them. This is the society that we must live with.
 
Maddyness. Does social media not inherently favour the emergence of the collective interest so dear to Robespierre?

MG.  Of course! But they’re just at the starting point. They provide the raw material. The approach would be to create unity from diversity without destroying the latter. This is an almost mathematical problem, but maths is simpler than a real-life situation!
 
Maddyness. Robespierre was very attached to controlling representatives. Could social media platforms become tools for control?

MG.  They already are, but this rudimentary control isn’t used to the best of its abilities. Control isn’t about insulting, systematic bad-mouthing, a hostile frenzy, or hate. It’s the drive to go deeper into why decisions are taken in order to better challenge them and be reasonable. We’re in a learning process where we’re rather relaxed about control, but later on, we’ll reach a second phase, where we’ll be more reasonable.

Social media is extraordinary, but we must know how to use it and for the moment, we don’t know how to use it well. We’re realising that it’s just as difficult to represent honest people as it’s to control representatives honestly. It takes time to build, yet this isn’t easy. I like to think that we’re at the beginning of something important. I find a lot of young people who struggle to find a way to start a true political or civic discussion through social media, a discussion about the control of government action as well as how we can fix these issues.

It’s not enough to criticise or condemn what the government does, but there are many solutions that can stem from a vast number of domains. We naively thought that collective intelligence was going to magically sprout from social media. This is not the case. These platforms can be used to achieve collective intelligence, but intelligence is a shared job that still needs to be worked on! We’re at a tipping point because everyone is tired of this surge of insanity that even tires those who produce it. The moment of insanity has passed, and the time of exercising rights has started to take off.
 
Maddyness. Basically, we forget that technology is just a tool.

MG. Absolutely! We also forget that collective intelligence has rules, a discipline, and elaborate workings that are anything but obvious; it’s quite complicated. The more that we enlarge the circle – and that’s the idea of social media – the harder it’ll get to produce something with a genuine consensus, which means something that doesn’t come from higher up, but is born lower down, among the people. The challenge is finding a way to allow a common thought or at least a shared diagnosis to circulate among many people since there’ll always be a divide of opinions in a democracy.

I think that this could be one of the main functions of civic discussions about social media. We’re aware of the difficulties of democracy, yet we’re trying to navigate through them. Occasionally, we find solutions to problems that we weren’t even aware of, yet we still have problems that we can’t seem to find solutions to. We’ve gone from the era of people who could inspire a large number of people by professing personal judgements – and I think that we won’t see any more of this – to a world where everyone can speak out. We’re no longer obligated to turn to people who know better than us.
 
Maddyness. Do the “bubbles” of social media that we shut ourselves into with other people who have similar ideas to ours keep us from working together as a whole?

MG. In a democracy, there are always two stages. The first stage comes from the activists who feel like they were born to talk on behalf of others. They speak out and we realise that no one identifies with what they’re talking about. The second stage is an awakening of what’s been falsely called the silent majority, which is made up of people who’re a little less sure about their ideas that they’ve thought about a little too much. These people will express themselves in the end. I recently read an article about the effects of Twitter that said that the biggest mistake of political figures is thinking that what they post on Twitter reflects the public opinion. Not even close! This shows the most extreme points of view in these famous bubbles.

Political figures need to get this fallacy out of their heads. But the problem now is to give shape to the majority who must stop being silent and speak out. We’re arriving at this point. By definition, these activists are intolerant, extreme, radical, and biased, but the population isn’t like that. They can see both sides of the story and this is what stops them. When you’re without nuances, you can express yourself freely and in the complete intolerance of those who don’t think the same way as you.
The real function of social media in relation to its oversimplification will be to help these perplexities, doubts, and interrogations develop better. We must realise the evolutions that have happened so far though. Social media has already allowed movements and processes to evolve. We haven’t reached the final stage of social media yet; it’s still in its joyful childhood.
 
Maddyness. Therefore, could we reinvent representative democracy? Couldn’t technology favour direct democracy?

MG. I don’t think so, no. The democratic process is an argument between two fundamental elements: peoples’ differing interests and unity among them. Social media increases diversity, separations, and variety to such a point that some say it is chaos. This makes creating coherence even more necessary. Representatives should work towards this and must keep in mind what may come from this societal expression and what may be amplified by social media.

If you just put everything that emerges in this new public space end to end, you’re unable to define any definite and consistent direction or priorities! Because if there are only extreme emergencies and you have limited resources, you can’t do anything.
 
Marcel Gauchet talks about democracy and social media. By Geraldine Russell. Maddyness, March 24, 2020.