Writer 1879: Solitary Journey in France

Chapter 337 The Price of Betrayal!

British readers, especially the intellectual class, are more familiar with Indian affairs.

They had all heard of or witnessed, to some extent, the phenomena described by Lionel.

This was revealed so clearly and sharply by a French writer, creating a tremendous shock effect.

The Manchester Guardian commented in its editor's note:
With his writer's keen insight, Mr. Sorel touched upon the long-neglected cultural identity crisis within the British colonial rule.

He showed us that empires expand not only on maps, but also by etching painful marks on the hearts of the conquered.

However, the real storm was brewing among the Indians in London.

In a café frequented by Indian students in the Bloomsbury district, the latest issue of the Manchester Guardian is being passed around among young people.

The room was filled with smoke, but the atmosphere was unusually heavy. Even if the young Indians here hadn't participated in last week's protest, they had heard about it.

A young international student named Rajiv Batachalji muttered to himself, "How...how can he see so clearly?"
'Spiritually rootless'... 'Suspended between two worlds'... Isn't that describing us?

His voice trembled, a mixture of the sting of having his secrets exposed and the relief of being understood.

Another student said in an even more excited tone: "We study hard at Oxford and Cambridge, trying to make ourselves look like English gentlemen."

We thought this would earn us respect. But what was the result? In their eyes, we were always just 'clever Indian kids,' never 'one of their own'!

A more radical student sneered: "Those princes who accepted titles, and our fathers, they thought they had gained the empire's recognition..."

But those were tools used to appease and manipulate them! They wore medal-granting uniforms, yet they were forced to obey colonial officials' orders on their own land!

The article revealed the deep-seated contradictions, anxieties, and pain within many Indian elites, sparking heated debate.

Rajiv Bhattachalji from Bangladesh cut out the article from the Manchester Guardian and sent it to his friend in Calcutta.

--------

A few weeks later, in Calcutta, India, a young Indian poet received the letter.

He has a handsome face and is no more than twenty years old. He had just finished studying in the UK six months ago.

He opened the letter Rajiv had sent from London.

At first, he casually browsed the clippings, but soon his gaze was firmly drawn to them, his reading speed slowed down, and his expression became more and more serious.

Those sentences in the article pierced his heart like needles:
"...not allowed to have their own lamp..."

"...knowledge became the chains that bound their souls..."

"...the more closely one imitates, the more one is seen as an outcast..."

"...a spiritually rootless person..."

He put down the article and remained silent for a long time.

He recalled his time studying in the UK, and the sense of alienation he felt, no matter how hard he tried, that made it difficult to fully integrate.

He also thought of those Indian intellectuals who always cited Shakespeare and Mill.

Lionel Sorel's article was like a powerful light shining into his heart.

He never imagined that a French writer far away in Paris could so thoroughly understand the suffering of the colonized people.

He even revealed the deepest spiritual crisis facing the intellectual class here.

"Our own lights..."

He muttered to himself, repeating the words from Rajiv's letter, his gaze fixed on the vast and deep sky outside the window.

A flame erupted from his heart and never went out for the next sixty years.

--------

Of course, not everyone appreciated Lionel's sharp wit. "Shameless betrayal!"

Jules Ferry slammed the newspaper down on his desk with a dull thud.

His face was ashen, and his eyes burned with fury.

He roared at his deputy in the Ministry of Public Education and Arts, Count Rohan: "Has Lionel Sorel forgotten who gave him his current position?"
Who tacitly approved or even supported the performance of his plays at the Comédie-Française?

A supporter of education reform? He's getting all the attention with that title; isn't he just benefiting from the policies of the Republican government?

Now, at the very moment when we need unity the most, he has stabbed us in the back!

He paced rapidly in his office, his voice barely concealing his anger: "And Vayan! And Clemenceau! Those damned Communards and radicals!"

What do they know about governing a country? They only know how to incite and sabotage! They're in cahoots with that ungrateful Lionel!
They are shaking the very foundations of the republic!

He abruptly stopped, bracing his hands on the edge of the table, and stared at Count Roang: "We must fight back! We must organize public opinion and thoroughly discredit them!"
Let Paris, and all of France, see clearly what kind of traitor Lionel Sorel is!
"What selfish demagogues like Vaillant and Clemenceau! I will ruin their reputations!"

Count Rohan remained calm and composed in his chair, a stark contrast to Ferry's excitement.

He nodded slightly: "Mr. Prime Minister, I understand your anger. Lionel's article is indeed inappropriate. But..."

He stood up, walked to the map on the wall, and pointed to the location of Tunisia: "Our operation here is at its most critical moment."

The resistance of 'Bey' is crumbling, but the eyes of our international 'enemies,' especially Italy and Britain, are fixed on us.

In Parliament, the budget debate regarding the costs of the expeditionary force and subsequent protectorate status has reached its most critical juncture.

Count Rohan turned to look at Ferry: "Is it wise to launch a war of words against a well-known writer and an opposition member of parliament at this time?"

This will only divert public attention from our impending 'glorious victory' and plunge us into endless arguments.

Vaillant and Clemenceau are exactly what we want; they can use it to create the image of the government 'suppressing speech.'"

He took a few steps closer and lowered his voice: "Victory on the battlefield, Minister, is the most convincing argument."

When our soldiers raised the tricolor flag atop the castle in Tunis, when we successfully brought Tunisia under protection, opening up new territories and markets for France…

All the controversy and doubts will vanish in the face of such a great victory.

By then, Lionel Sorel's writings and Vayan's roars in parliament will seem pale and powerless, merely the ramblings of defeated men.

Those who oppose it will only become out-of-place clowns amidst the nationwide celebrations.

He paused for a moment, observing Ferry's reaction, and found that his expression had gradually returned to calm.

Count Rohan continued, “What we need most right now is not to get entangled with them in the newspapers, but to focus on ensuring the budget is passed smoothly.”

Furthermore, it is essential to ensure the military operation in Tunisia proceeds flawlessly. The best way to quell public opinion is not through arguments.

It is through irrefutable success that the opponents are silenced. Temporary patience is for the sake of ultimate victory.

Jules Ferry finally calmed down. He glanced at Count Rohan and suddenly asked, "I heard that Lionel and your youngest son are on good terms?"

Count Rohan smiled slightly: "Just a classmate of the Sorbonne."

Jules Ferry walked to the map, stared at Tunisia, as if he could already see the scene of triumph.

He suddenly turned around: "As for public opinion, handle it as you wish. Let the newspapers that support us speak out appropriately, but don't get overly entangled."

The key is to guide public attention to our 'civilizational mission' in North Africa and the impending victory.

He was silent for a moment, then his tone turned cold: "But Lionel Sorel... this young man, he must pay the price for his 'betrayal'."

Not now, but certainly not forever. Once the dust settles in Tunisia, once we have the time…”

(End of this chapter)