In Paris in July, the summer heat was steaming.
The leaves on the tree-lined avenues were curled by the scorching sun, and the wind blowing from the Seine River carried a sticky dampness.
However, thanks to the latest municipal projects, Paris had newly completed over 200 kilometers of sewage system, which greatly reduced the stench.
Inside the Palais Bourbon, where the parliament was located, another debate about colonial appropriations had just ended.
Despite the vociferous opposition from Clemenceau and others, the resolution to appropriate an additional 45 million francs for military operations in Tonkin was still passed.
The news spread like wildfire, quickly reaching Paris's salons, cafes, and exchanges.
"Victory! Another victory!"
"The glory of France shall surely shine upon the whole world!"
"Mr. Ferry is the true helmsman!"
The cheers came from those who stood to profit from colonial expansion—
The arms dealers who heard the roar of machinery, the shipping companies dreaming of vast fortunes in Indochina, and the financiers who could once again lend money to the government at high interest...
For them, every round of applause in parliament was like the sweet sound of gold coins falling into their pockets.
Jules Ferry stood on the steps of the Parliament building, facing the crowded supporters and journalists, full of vigor and high spirits.
He raised his voice, ensuring his words could be heard clearly by everyone:
"Gentlemen! Citizens! This is not merely an appropriation of 45 million francs; this is France's firm step towards the future! How pale and powerless those dissenting voices, those arguments questioning our mission, appear at this moment!
I want to reiterate—at the present historical juncture, opposing rational, nationally interested colonial policies is opposing France! It is a betrayal of the spirit of our great Republic!"
"Opposing colonialism is opposing France!"
This slogan was quickly picked up by Ferry's supporters and, through the next day's newspapers, spread throughout France.
Le Figaro published an editorial, highly praising the government's "foresight" and "boldness," and hinting that "any remarks hindering the nation's progress are irresponsible."
La République, Le Temps, and other media spared no words of praise, portraying Ferry as a hero leading France towards glory.
Amidst this widespread clamor, several journalists stopped Lionel, who had just returned, at the doorstep of his apartment at 117 Boulevard Saint-Germain.
They pressed Lionel on whether he still opposed France's colonial policies, especially the recent military actions against Tunisia and Vietnam.
Lionel said calmly:
"I still maintain my previous views. Packaging military conquest and plunder as a 'civilizing mission' is a profound hypocrisy. The glory of France should not be built upon other nations' people's suffering and humiliation."
A journalist pressed further:
"But, Mr. Sorel, currently, both the parliament and public opinion are on Prime Minister Ferry's side. Do you think your views are outdated?"
Lionel revealed a mocking smile:
"Truth is not always determined by the majority vote, sir. When everyone is charging forward in one direction with high spirits, perhaps it is even more necessary for someone to remind them to look at the cliff beneath their feet. As for whether it is outdated or not, let time prove it!"
He said no more, pushed open the apartment door, and walked in, shutting out the journalists' questions.
His statement quickly appeared on the pages of Le Petit Journal the next day, with the headline:
"Sorel Insists on Anti-Colonial Stance, Stating 'France's Glory Should Not Be Based on Others' Suffering'."
The report relatively objectively quoted his original words, but at the end of the article, it subtly hinted:
"At a time when the entire nation is celebrating new breakthroughs in the colonial enterprise, Mr. Sorel's isolated stance appears particularly jarring."
However, this was merely the prelude to the storm.
Two days later, Le Gaulois published a report in a prominent position, accompanied by a clear image.
The image showed a publication with a binding style distinctly different from European books; the cover featured traditional Chinese characters, below which was a line of French annotation:
"Lionel Sorel's collection of novels published in China."
The report, in a seemingly objective tone, wrote:
[This newspaper recently received a sample copy from the Far East. According to the sender, this is a collection of translated works by our country's famous writer, Mr. Lionel Sorel, published in China, including "The Old Guard," "The Homeland," and other pieces. It is believed that these works received a certain degree of welcome among the Qing intellectual class...]
At this point, the tone abruptly shifted:
[...This might explain why Mr. Sorel has recently shown such stubborn opposition to our country's military actions in Tonkin and colonial policies. It is well known that the Qing government, precisely because of its suzerainty issue over Vietnam, has been involved in friction and even military confrontation with our country in the Red River region.
This inevitably leads one to draw some connections—perhaps, Mr. Sorel's criticism of France's colonial enterprise, its motivation is not entirely rooted in humanitarian concern? We should understand that perhaps his statements could make his collection of novels even more popular in Qing!]
After seeing the report, Lionel almost popped his eyes out—he himself had not received this sample copy; where did Le Gaulois get it from?
Looking at the newspaper picture, judging from the cover of the thread-bound book, the vertical layout, and traditional Chinese characters, it didn't seem like Le Gaulois could have forged it.
More importantly, he actually hadn't received a single tael of silver in royalties!
Almost at the same time, another piece of news circulated from within the Ministry of Education.
Edmond de Rohan, the Undersecretary of the Ministry of Public Instruction and Fine Arts, meaningfully stated at a non-public meeting:
"Education aims to cultivate the Republic's future citizens, shaping their patriotic sentiments and national identity. Therefore, in the selection of textbooks, we should prioritize those works that can inspire students' love for their homeland and pride in French civilization.
Only the writings of truly devoted patriots, whose words and actions align with national interests, are worthy of being printed in textbooks and becoming models for children to learn from."
Although these words did not explicitly name anyone, their target was self-evident.
Who was the well-known writer whose "words and actions" seemed most inconsistent with "national interests" at the moment?
The answer was almost on everyone's lips.
The news that Lionel's works would be removed from the new semester's French language textbooks' syllabus spread throughout the streets and alleys.
Previously, people's criticism of Lionel mostly focused on his views themselves, debating the right and wrong of colonial policy.
But now, the spearhead of the attack began to turn towards his character and motives.
"See! I've said it before, this fellow from the Alps cannot be trusted!"
"His books are actually so popular in China? No wonder he always speaks for those barbarians!"
"Think about his relationship with those Qing people... I heard he attended the Qing ambassador's dinner."
"Count Rohan is right, only patriots' works deserve to be in textbooks! Sorel's writings will only poison our children!"
Similar discussions began to spread in conservative salons, in right-wing newspapers' comment sections, and even in casual street talk.
"Traitor," "unpatriotic," "bought by the Chinese"...
All sorts of malicious labels began to be unceremoniously affixed to Lionel's name.
The halo around him seemed in that instant to have dimmed considerably.
And it was in a primary school in Lyon that what most disheartened Lionel happened.
(End of chapter)