France from Behind the Veil: Fifty Years of Social and Political Life

by Princess Catherine Radziwill

For the first time I heard the name of Colonel Esterhazy as one who could have said a lot concerning this intricate affair had he cared to do so, and the impression left upon my mind by the conversation which I had on that day was strong enough to inspire me with the desire to be present at the coming trial. Consequently, I requested and, after difficulty, obtained from the War Office permission to be present.

I had never seen Captain Dreyfus before the day when I beheld him sitting in the dock listening to the evidence on the strength of which he was to be sent to the Devil’s Island for five long years. I must say that his appearance did not draw out the sympathy of any onlooker who did not give himself the trouble to watch his countenance attentively. Indeed, had his appearance been more prepossessing, he would perhaps have met with more indulgence than was the case. But in the whole of my long life I have never seen a man with more strength of character and more power to keep his personal emotions under control. Not a muscle of his face moved during the time that witness after witness spoke of his presumed guilt; his eyes never fired up, even when he heard himself accused of a crime that he had never committed. The only words he spoke were uttered in a low tone, in which weariness more than anything else was apparent, and he never said anything else but the phrase, “Je suis innocent.”

And yet it was impossible to look at him and not to realise that this indifferent man, whom nothing seemed to move, who had not even the strength to protest indignantly against the accusation hurled at him, was enduring a perfect martyrdom; that his apparent calmness was the calmness of despair. He knew too well that he could not prove his innocence, that he had been made the victim of other people’s guilt, and that he was being crushed by the wheels of a Juggernaut, moved along by ah inexorable fate. Once he started, and that was when sentence was pronounced against him, and when the words, “dégradation militaire,” resounded in the room. A feeling of revolt appeared to shake him, and he made a gesture as if he wanted to rush forward; but it lasted only a second, and then he lapsed into his usual apathy, as if he had understood that his protest would only have added to the bitter feelings of revenge which the public manifested against him.

After judgment had been pronounced I had the opportunity of speaking to one of those who had given the verdict. I asked him whether he really believed in the Captain’s guilt. The officer shrugged his shoulders and replied: “It is difficult to say. Treason has taken place; and, after all, it is better to assert that a Jew has been guilty than to fix it on a Frenchman.”

It seemed to me that these words gave the key to the undercurrents of l’affaire Dreyfus. Some people, whether sincerely or otherwise, believed that treason had been committed, and finding that it became incumbent to fix it on someone, preferred to take a Jew as a victim than one of their own brethren in race and faith.

At the time the affair began anti-Semitism was already very powerful in France.

Drumont had published his famous books, each rendered so stupid in one sense by the pertinacity with which he called a Jew every person whom he thought he had a reason for disliking; and so dangerous in another sense, by the way in which he appealed to all the evil instincts of the mob, and urged it to rise against people whose only guilt consisted in being rich.

The Clerical party especially did all that was in its power to fan the hatred against Jews, which had always existed in a greater or lesser degree. It accused them of inspiring all the anti-Clerical measures adopted by the various governments which had succeeded one another in the country. Also, it was foolish enough to seize the pretext of the Dreyfus affair to associate anti-Semitism with the question of the Captain’s guilt or innocence, and thereby to excite public opinion against the Jews in general, more even than against the Captain himself.

On the other hand, the Radical party, which was gaining adherents every day, was delighted to be able to secure the support of the Jews in its struggle against Clericalism. They, therefore, hastened to accuse the Clericals of trying to prove the Captain guilty in order to be able to trace some association between his supposed guilt and the actions of the numerous rich Hebrews in France.

It has been said that at the beginning of the campaign which was started in favour of Dreyfus, when someone asked M. Clemenceau what he thought about the whole affair, the Radical leader replied that he did not know yet what there was in it, but that he saw it could become an admirable weapon in the hands of the different political parties which existed in France.