In
Honor Of The 144th Anniversary Of The Paris Commune –Jean-Paul Roget’s Fear
Jean-Paul Roget
frankly was exhausted after coming out of the three hour meeting of the
sectional committee of the Paris Commune that had just been declared a few days
previously and was desperately in need of organization now that the Theirs
government had fled to Versailles leaving the city to the “people.” And that
idea of organization, damn, the desperate need for organization, first and
foremost of the food supplies and military defense of the city against an
attack by either forces loyal to Theirs or from the dreaded Prussians who just
that moment had most of the capital surrounded and squeezed in was needed right
then. What had Jean-Paul exhausted was not the daunting tasks of organization in
front of him and his comrades, tough as they were, but that the three hour
meeting that had just finished produced not resolve and purpose but only reams
and reams of hot air.
Now that that people of Paris were masters of their own
house every dingbat orator, lawyer, crackpot radical and not a few dandies saw their opportunity to wax and wane
endlessly about the beautiful struggle that had taken place, that a new day was
aborning ,and ill-witted material like that. Take Varlin, a Proudhonist who had
been, in the old days back in ’48 quite the radical figure, had been seemingly
on every barricade and who in the aftermath of the June Days bloodbath been
transported (exiled). This day however he felt the need, and felt it for hours,
to push the notion of artisan cooperatives at a time when Paris was losing that
segment of the population to the every-devouring factories that were in fact
more efficient in the production of goods. Moreover dear Varlin was captivated
by the notion that now that Theirs had fled (and good riddance) there was no
reason to pursue his troops and disband them as agents of potential counter-revolution.
Certainly Varlin had forgotten the harsh memories of ’48 but
he was not the worst offender against the urgency of the times. The old windbag
Capet, jesus, was he still alive thought Jean-Paul when he heard that name
announced from the podium, went on and
on about the glory days, the glory days of ’89 like life had stopped in that
blessed time. In the same vein (maybe vain) as well Dubois, an old time
working-class radical, a semi-follower of Marx from over in England, kept
harping on the need to take over the banks in order to finance the new affairs of the Commune. Jean-Paul himself merely a tanner, and a good
one, laughed when that idea was announced for where would he, or anyone else,
get the money for their daily personal and business needs. A couple of other speakers went on and on as well about
how great the peoples’ needs were without however coming up with one solid
working idea. At least Jean-Paul had suggested setting a maximum on the price
of bread that could help the people but that was merely “taken under
advisement” And so ended a day, a fruitless day by Jean –Paul’s lights in the
life of the Commune…
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