Les Misérables, v. 4/5: The Idyll and the Epic

  CHAPTER I.

  THE SURFACE OF THE QUESTION.

  Of what is a revolt composed? Of nothing and of everything, of anelectricity suddenly disengaged, of a flame which suddenly breaksout, of a wandering strength and a passing breath. This breath meetswith heads that talk, brains that dream, souls that suffer, passionsthat burn, and miseries which yell, and carries them off with it.Whither? It is chance work; through the State, through the laws,through prosperity and the insolence of others. Irritated convictions,embittered enthusiasms, aroused indignations, martial instinctssuppressed, youthful courage exalted, and generous blindnesses;curiosity, a taste for a change, thirst for something unexpected, thefeeling which causes us to find pleasure in reading the announcementof a new piece, or on hearing the machinist's whistle; vague hatreds,rancors, disappointments, every vanity which believes that destinyhas been a bankrupt to it; straitened circumstances, empty dreams,ambitions surrounded with escarpments, every man who hopes for anissue from an overthrow, and, lastly, at the very bottom, the mob, thatmud which takes fire,--such are the elements of riot. The greatest andthe most infamous, beings who prowl about beyond the pale of everythingwhile awaiting an opportunity, gypsies, nameless men, highwayvagabonds, the men who sleep o' nights in a desert of houses with noother roof but the cold clouds of heaven, those who daily ask theirbread of chance and not of toil; the unknown men of wretchedness andnothingness, bare arms and bare feet, belong to the riot. Every man whohas in his soul a secret revolt against any act of the State, of life,or of destiny, borders on riot; and so soon as it appears he begins toquiver and to feel himself lifted by the whirlwind.

  Riot is a species of social atmospheric waterspout, which issuddenly formed in certain conditions of temperature, and which inits revolutions mounts, runs, thunders, tears up, razes, crushes,demolishes, and uproots, bearing with it grand and paltry natures,the strong man and the weak mind, the trunk of a tree and the wisp ofstraw. Woe to the man whom it carries as well as to the one it dashesat, for it breaks one against the other. It communicates to those whomit seizes a strange and extraordinary power; it fills the first comerwith the force of events and converts everything into projectiles; itmakes a cannon-ball of a stone, and a general of a porter. If we maybelieve certain oracles of the crafty policy, a little amount of riotis desirable from the governing point of view. The system is, that riotstrengthens those governments which it does not overthrow; it triesthe army; it concentrates the bourgeoisie, strengthens the muscles ofthe police, and displays the force of the social framework. It is alesson in gymnastics, and almost hygiene; and power feels better aftera riot, as a man does after a rubbing down. Riot, thirty years ago,was also regarded from other stand-points. There is for everything atheory which proclaims itself as "common sense," a mediation offeredbetween the true and the false: explanation, admonition, and a somewhathaughty extenuation which, because it is composed of blame and apology,believes itself wisdom, and is often nothing but pedantry. An entirepolitical school, called the "Juste milieu," emanated from this, andbetween cold water and hot water there is the lukewarm-water party.This school, with its false depth entirely superficial, which dissectseffects without going back to causes, scolds, from the elevation ofsemi-science, the agitations of the public streets.

  If we listen to this school we hear: "The riots which complicated thedeed of 1830 deprived that grand event of a portion of its purity.The revolution of July was a fine blast of the popular wind, suddenlyfollowed by a blue sky, and the riot caused a cloudy sky to reappear,and compelled the revolution, originally so remarkable throughunanimity, to degenerate into a quarrel. In the revolution of July, asin every progress produced by a jerk, there were secret fractures; theriot rendered them perceptible. After the revolution of July only thedeliverance was felt, but after the riots the catastrophe was felt.Every riot closes shops, depresses the funs, consternates the StockExchange, suspends trade, checks business, and entails bankruptcies;there is no money, trade is disconcerted, capital is withdrawn, laboris at a discount, there is fear everywhere, and counter-strokes takeplace in every city, whence come gulfs. It is calculated that thefirst day of riot costs France twenty millions of francs, the secondforty, and the third sixty. Hence a riot of three days costs onehundred and twenty millions; that is to say, if we only regard thefinancial result, is equivalent to a disaster, shipwreck, or lostaction, which might annihilate a fleet of sixty vessels of the line.Indubitably, riots, historically regarded, had their beauty; the warof the paving-stones is no less grand or pathetic than the war ofthickets; in the one there is the soul of forests, in the other theheart of cities; one has Jean Chouan, the other has Jeanne. Riotslit up luridly but splendidly all the most original features of theParisian character,--generosity, devotion, stormy gayety, studentsproving that bravery forms a part of intellect, the National Guardunswerving, bivouacs formed by shop-keepers, fortresses held by gamins,and contempt of death in the passers-by. Schools and legions cameinto collision, but, after all, there was only the difference of agebetween the combatants, and they are the same race; the same stoicalmen who die at the age of twenty for their ideas, and at forty fortheir families; the army, ever sad in civil wars, opposed prudence toaudacity; and the riots, while manifesting the popular intrepidity,were the education of the bourgeois courage. That is all very well,but is all this worth the blood shed? And then add to the bloodshedthe future darkened, progress compromised, anxiety among the betterclasses, honest liberals despairing, foreign absolutism delightedat these wounds dealt to revolution by itself, and the conquered of1830 triumphing and shouting, 'Did we not say so?' Add Paris possiblyaggrandized, France assuredly diminished. Add--for we must tell thewhole truth--the massacres which too often dishonored the victory oforder, which became ferocious, over liberty which went mad, and we mustarrive at the conclusion that riots have been fatal."

  Thus speaks that wisdom, almost, with which the bourgeoisie, thatpeople, almost, are so readily contented. For our part, we regret theword riots as being too wide, and consequently too convenient, and makea distinction between one popular movement and another; we do not askourselves whether a riot costs as much as a battle. In the first place,why a battle? Here the question of war arises. Is war less a scourgethan riot is a calamity? And then, are all riots calamities? And evensupposing that July 14 cost one hundred and twenty millions, theestablishment of Philip V. in Spain cost France two billions, and evenwere the price equal we should prefer the 14th July. Besides, we rejectthese figures, which seem reasons and are only words, and a riot beinggiven, we examine it in itself. In all that the doctrinaire objectionwe have just reproduced says, the only question is the effect, and weseek for the cause.