Writer 1879: Solitary Journey in France

Chapter 405 Am I Afraid of You, Judge? (Seeking Votes at the Beginning of the Month)
Lionel stepped into the shadows beneath the arches of the Palace of Justice. The outside noise receded quickly like a tide, and a heavy silence enveloped him.

The tall stone walls swallowed the sound, leaving only the echo of his boot heels striking the stone slabs, reverberating in the empty hallway.

A court official in a black robe came forward and gestured for him to follow. Lionel nodded and began to follow him.

They walked through the dimly lit arcade, where the figures carved on the pillars silently watched the visitor.

Finally, they stopped in front of the second division of the misdemeanor court.

The door was tightly shut, but a cacophony of voices could be heard through the cracks.

The court clerk pushed open the door, and instantly a warm current rushed in, while the buzzing whispers suddenly amplified.

The courtroom was already packed with people.

The gallery was packed with people, including newspaper reporters and curious members of the public, all craning their necks in anticipation of what was happening.

All eyes were fixed on Lionel, a mixture of curiosity, anticipation, hostility, and support filling the space.

Because the trial of Lionel Sorel is widely expected to be very lengthy, the Second Chamber cancelled the hearings of all other cases today.

Lionel was led directly to the dock by the court clerk.

It was a solitary spot, located in the center of the courtroom, slightly below the judge's bench.

His gaze calmly swept across the scene:
The judge's bench, high above the court, remained empty.
In the dock, prosecutor Alexandre Dupont was already seated, with a thick file spread out in front of him, his expression stern.

Standing next to the defendant's dock was Jules Fayol, the lawyer hired by De La Ruyak for him, known for his wit and eloquence.

Soon, the side door of the courtroom opened, and three judges, dressed in red and black robes, filed in.

Leading the group was Louis-Auguste Bernard, the presiding judge of the Second Chamber.

He had a lean face, dignified eyes, and his gray hair was neatly combed.

He took his seat first in the high-backed chair in the center, with the other two jurors sitting on either side.

"Stand up!" the court clerk called out.

The entire room stood in silence, and only sat down after the judge took his seat, at which point the noise gradually subsided.

Judge Louis-Auguste Bernard picked up the gavel and struck it lightly, the crisp sound echoing throughout the courtroom, officially announcing the start of the trial.

Judge Bernard's voice was solemn and authoritative: "Court is now in session to hear the case of 'The Republic v. Lionel Sorel'."

He routinely read out the case name and the charges—

"In publicly published articles and statements, they undermined the discipline of the French army, incited soldiers to disobey, and insulted the country."

The clerk then stood up, called out the names of the defendants, and confirmed their identities: "Lional Sorel, from Montiel, Larange, Haut-Alpes."

Lionel nodded: "Yes."

Next, it was prosecutor Alexander Dupont's turn to state the grounds for the prosecution.

He stood up, straightened his robes, and began reading the indictment.

His voice was loud and his words were harsh. He quoted excerpts from Lionel’s articles published in publications such as Le Figaro, as well as his public remarks.

Prosecutor Dipont emphasized that these remarks "seriously damaged the morale and honor of the army," "created suspicion and antagonism in the rear," "objectively encouraged potential resistance to military orders," and "tarnished the image of the Republic's government both internationally and domestically, constituting an insult to national dignity."

His statement lasted about fifteen minutes, during which the courtroom was silent except for the scratching of pens on paper by reporters.

After the indictment was read aloud, Judge Bernard turned his gaze to the defendant's dock: "Defendant Lionel Sorel, you have heard the prosecutor's indictment."

Now you can defend yourself against the charges. Of course, your lawyer can also speak on your behalf.

Almost the instant the judge finished speaking, Lionel turned to Jules Fayol, the lawyer beside him who was about to get up, and gestured to stop him.

The lawyer looked surprised, but under Lionel's firm gaze, he hesitated and sat back down.

Standing behind the dock, Lionel calmly repeated what he had said earlier on the steps of the Palace of Justice:

"I plead guilty!"

Although everyone in the courtroom already knew this, hearing him say it aloud was still incredibly impactful.

A chorus of barely suppressed gasps erupted from the audience.

The reporters were excitedly taking notes, almost unable to contain themselves and rushing forward.

Judge Bernard had no choice but to slam his gavel: "Silence! Silence!"

After the courtroom fell silent, Judge Bernard leaned forward and said sternly, "Defendant Lionel Sorel, please give this court a clear answer—"

Does your recent claim of 'pleading guilty' mean that you admit to all the charges against you in the indictment read by Prosecutor Alexander Dupont?
Are you sure this is your final stance after careful consideration?

Lionel nodded without hesitation: "Yes, Your Honor, I confirm. I admit that I made those remarks—"

I confess that I oppose the current military operations in Tunisia and Tokyo, that I consider these operations to be unjust plunder, and that I believe they tarnish the reputation of France. Therefore, the charges are established, and I plead guilty.

This caused a stir not only in the public gallery, but also in the judges' and prosecutors' seats.

Judge Bernard exchanged a quick glance with the two jurors beside him, seeing the surprise and unease in each other's eyes.

Prosecutor Alexander Dupont's expression also turned somewhat grim. He had prepared for a fierce battle between the prosecution and the defense, but he did not expect that his opponent would simply give up the fight.

If, under such overwhelming public opinion, Lionel is sentenced to imprisonment or exile as previously planned, it would be nothing short of a political disaster.

This will not only confirm Lionel's statement from outside the door that "the judge's robes are wrapped in the will of a politician," but also trigger a strong backlash from the public;

This will put these judges in the spotlight and make them victims of factional infighting.

At that time, they will likely face more than just resigning from their public office; they may even be held accountable.

Neither the franc nor the promise of a position is so reliable in the face of overwhelming public opinion.

An awkward silence fell over the courtroom.

After a long while, Judge Bernard cleared his throat, seemingly unsure how to continue the trial that had deviated from its intended course.

He had only just received instructions to do everything possible to reduce Lionel's sentence, or even to acquit him, and had not yet had time to consider how to proceed.

In just a few minutes, the court documents couldn't be changed; he had been forcing himself to recite the scriptures the whole time.

Lionel's immediate confession effectively shut down all room for maneuver.

Cold sweat beaded on his forehead as he hesitated, unsure how to begin.

To everyone's surprise, Prosecutor Alexander Dipont stood up: "Your Honor, given the defendant's guilty plea in court, perhaps..."

Perhaps we need to understand the defendant's true intentions more accurately.

Judge Bernard felt as if he had been granted a pardon and quickly nodded to Alexandre Dupont to continue.

Lionel was also quite surprised and looked at the prosecutor opposite him.

Alexander Dupont also turned to Lionel, his tone softening: "Mr. Sorel, you claim to oppose colonial actions, is this primarily due to a…

A sense of humanitarian compassion? Did you feel heartbroken and regretful for the casualties of French soldiers and colonists simply because you read the casualty reports in the newspapers?
Therefore, he made extreme remarks in a state of emotional agitation, rather than fundamentally opposing the Republic's colonial policies themselves.
Your initial intention might not have been to question the country's decisions, but rather to call for a more cautious use of force and to reduce unnecessary bloodshed?

A commotion erupted in the courtroom's public gallery.

Alexandre Dupont's case was practically paving a path for Lionel to escape punishment.

If Lionel simply says "yes," his remarks can be interpreted as "excessive concern born of patriotism," rather than political opposition.

Then the judge can simply declare Lionel innocent, or issue only a verbal warning and a fine, and this sensational case that has captivated all of Europe can be hastily concluded.

Many people in the audience laughed. The scene was so absurd that the plaintiff was trying every means to find excuses for the defendant.

Judge Bernard immediately struck his gavel as a warning, but did not reprimand Prosecutor Dipont. Instead, he turned his gaze to Lionel with anticipation in his eyes.

Lionel shook his head, his tone firm: "No, Prosecutor. I oppose not only the casualties, but also the policy of colonial expansion itself."

I believe that conquering another nation by force and plundering its resources, no matter how civilized it may be disguised, is inherently unjust.

This is not a fleeting emotion, but my fundamental stance.

Alexandre Dupont was not giving up and tried again: "So, regarding your views on the native culture of the colony that you mentioned in your article?"

Are you worried that colonization will destroy the unique local culture? Are you calling for the protection of cultural diversity and worried that these ancient civilizations will disappear in the future?

This is a cultural consideration, not a political attack, right?

He provided another stepping stone, one that was even more fitting for Lionel's identity as a writer than the previous one.

Lionel thwarted his attempt once again: "Of course not! I do believe that colonization destroys local culture, but that is only part of the evils of colonization."

But I have always believed that colonial rule is an oppressive system built on violence and inequality. It's not about cultural preservation, but about justice!

Alexander Dupont, almost at a loss for words, offered a possible alternative: "Or, are you dissatisfied with the individual acts of excessive force during the military operation?"

Actually, what you oppose is the 'method' of war, not the 'purpose' of colonization?
So, you acknowledge France's glorious mission of spreading civilization, but disapprove of certain methods used in its implementation?

Lionel retorted without hesitation: "What I oppose is colonization itself, whether it is the 'end' or the 'means,' they are inherently a unified whole."

It is wrong to place one's own civilization above other civilizations and use this as an excuse to conquer them.

There is no just purpose in colonialism, nor is there any means of civilized conquest.

After answering the question, Lionel turned somewhat impatiently to Judge Bernard, showing no fear whatsoever:
"Your Honor, I have already clearly confessed to the crime, why haven't you pronounced the verdict yet?"

(I'm on the high-speed train, so I'll post one chapter first.)
(End of this chapter)