blood-hound of the earthly police,—yet another “idee Napoleonienne.” The expedition against Rome will next time take place in France, but in a reverse sense from that of M. de Montalembert.
Finally, the culminating point of the “idees Napoleoniennes” is the preponderance of the Army. The Army was the “point of honor” with the allotment farmers: it was themselves turned into masters, defending abroad their newly established property, glorifying their recently conquered nationality, plundering and revolutionizing the world. The uniform was their State costume; war was their poetry; the allotment, expanded and rounded up in their phantasy, was the fatherland; and patriotism became the ideal form of property. But the foe, against whom the French farmer must now defend his property, are not the Cossacks, they are the sheriffs and the tax collectors. The allotment no longer lies in the so-called fatherland, but in the register of mortgages. The Army itself no longer is the flower of the youth of the farmers, it is the swamp-blossom of the slum-proletariat of the farmer class. It consists of “remplacants,” substitutes, just as the second Bonaparte himself is but a “remplacant,” a substitute, for Napoleon. Its feats of heroism are now performed in raids instituted against farmers and in the service of the police;—and when the internal contradictions of his own system shall drive the chief of the “Society of December 10” across the French frontier, that Army will, after a few bandit-raids, gather no laurels but only hard knocks.
It is evident that all the “idees Napoleoniennes” are the ideas of the undeveloped and youthfully fresh allotment; they are an absurdity for the allotment that now survives. They are only the hallucinations of its death struggle; words turned to hollow phrases, spirits turned to spooks. But this parody of the Empire was requisite in order to free the mass of the French nation from the weight of tradition, and to elaborate sharply the contrast between Government and Society. Along with the progressive decay of the allotment, the governmental structure, reared upon it, breaks down. The centralization of Government, required by modern society, rises only upon the ruins of the military and bureaucratic governmental machinery that was forged in contrast to feudalism.
The conditions of the French farmers’ class solve to us the riddle of the general elections of December 20 and 21, that led the second Bonaparte to the top of Sinai, not to receive, but to decree laws.
The bourgeoisie had now, manifestly, no choice but to elect Bonaparte. When at the Council of Constance, the puritans complained of the sinful life of the Popes, and moaned about the need of a reform in morals, Cardinal d’Ailly thundered into their faces: “Only the devil in his Own person can now save the Catholic Church, and you demand angels.” So, likewise, did the French bourgeoisie cry out after the “coup d’etat”: “Only the chief of the ‘Society of December 10’ can now save bourgeois society, only theft can save property, only perjury religion, only bastardy the family, only disorder order!”