Lionel finished speaking, turned his head, looked up slightly, and gazed at the tricolor flag flying above the dome of the Palace of Justice.
Everyone's gaze also turned there.
His voice became mournful:
"I want to confess my guilt to France—to the flag of this country, and to the ideals of 'Liberty, Equality, Fraternity' that it symbolizes!"
The crowd fell completely silent, and those who heard these words felt the profound emotions contained within them.
"Because we raise this flag, claiming it represents humanity's noblest aspirations. But what about reality?"
Lionel's voice suddenly rose:
"The reality is—
While we sing 'Fraternity' loudly at home, we practice 'slavery' overseas!
While we preach 'Equality' on the streets of Paris, we establish strict 'discrimination' in the colonies!
We constantly claim to bring 'Freedom' to the world, yet our means are the most barbaric 'conquest'!"
He suddenly took a small step forward, his body leaning slightly, as if to hurl his words like javelins at the hearts of the audience.
Lionel's gaze swept across the entire hall:
"I have a question to challenge everyone present, to challenge all French people who pride themselves on being civilized!
When the Germans, through war, took Alsace-Lorraine from us! When countless soldiers and ordinary citizens fell under German gunfire—
That was the unforgettable pain and humiliation of our entire nation! Every one of us denounced the Germans' cruelty and barbarism!
We believed this was the darkest page in the civilized world! Isn't that so?"
His words stirred unhealed wounds in the hearts of many present, and sympathetic sighs and angry murmurs arose from the crowd.
The crushing defeat of 1870 and the loss of territory were thorns in the heart of every Frenchman.
Lionel's voice was now filled with a sharp, questioning tone:
"But! Please tell me, when the same things—war, conquest, plunder, slaughter—
—occurred in Tunisia, in Vietnam, in those colonized nations far more backward than us—
Why did many of us take to the streets and cheer, believing this to be 'the glory of France'?
Why could our politicians grandiosely declare that this was fulfilling the 'duty of a superior race,' bringing 'civilization' to ignorant peoples?"
The immense discrepancy struck everyone's heart like a heavy hammer.
Many who had just been indignant about Alsace-Lorraine now wore expressions of confusion and contemplation.
"If! If we implicitly agree that the success or failure of war, the strength or weakness of military force, can be the sole criterion for judging 'civilization' or not!
Then, according to this logic—"
Lionel deliberately elongated his tone, making each word seem to be squeezed out through clenched teeth:
"Then shouldn't Germany, or even Russia, who defeated us, also be leading France from 'barbarism' and 'backwardness' towards 'civilization'?"
An old veteran in an old military uniform couldn't help but blurt out:
"Absurd!"
His face was filled with insulted rage.
A gentleman also exclaimed in refutation:
"How can that be the same!"
They were all standing relatively close to Lionel, so their voices clearly carried up to the steps.
Lionel immediately seized on this reaction:
"Yes! Absurd!"
His voice was like the trumpet of judgment:
"You find this utterly absurd! Something you would never admit! Then, please tell me—
—why, when France does the same thing to weaker nations, it is not absurd, but 'glory' and 'civilization'?"
He surveyed the red faces and flickering eyes below, pausing for more than ten seconds, giving them time to digest these emotions.
Then Lionel spoke again, this time in an even more severe tone:
"This can no longer be described as mere 'hypocrisy'!
This is a deep-seated 'superficiality'! A 'superficiality' that refuses to think, refuses to self-reflect, and only drifts with power and emotion!
And in my opinion, this collective, unconscious 'superficiality' is the highest level of evil!
Because it allows evil to parade in splendid attire, and injustice to wear laurels and receive cheers!"
Among the crowd, some intellectuals with true conscience and genuine republicans nodded slowly, their faces showing expressions of shame and agreement.
Zola's tightly clutched cane relaxed slightly.
He gazed at Lionel, his eyes complex, filled with both concern and relief.
Maupassant was completely immersed in this speech, forgetting everything around him, silently repeating:
"Superficiality is the highest level of evil..."
Lionel's voice deepened:
"In such a 'superficial' country, any untimely thought is itself a sin.
I confess, I thought, I revealed, I violated this 'superficial' taboo! This is my second crime!"
Lionel looked at the dense crowd in the square; most of them were there to support him.
His gaze became complex, containing pity, detachment, and even fatigue.
"Finally, I want to confess my guilt to all of you—everyone standing here."
As soon as these words were uttered, the faces of his supporters were once again filled with shock and bewilderment.
"Confess to me...us?"
"What does he mean?"
Lionel looked at them and slowly said:
"I confess, because I, Lionel Sorel, unconsciously became a part of 'superficiality'.
And you, my dear supporters, your seemingly surging enthusiasm has also been carefully guided and is being exploited.
And this is a manifestation of 'superficiality'!"
These words were like a dagger, piercing many hearts.
Some people showed anger on their faces, feeling betrayed.
Lionel's voice became calm:
"Look at yourselves, many of you do not truly understand why I oppose colonialism, or why I stand in the dock.
You were merely angered by the fact that 'Lionel will be on trial, and France will be shamed,' believing that 'if I stand with Lionel, then I am right.'
You eagerly welcomed my return with grand ceremonies, giving me a hero's welcome, as if this would elevate such 'justice.'
When good news came frequently from the colonial battlefields, you loved France; when failures came one after another, you embraced me again.
As if as long as I returned to Paris, everything in the past could be wiped clean—hadn't everyone forgotten their scars this way before?"
His words were sharp and acrimonious, making many feel uncomfortable, yet unable to immediately refute him.
"These past few days, I've heard too many slogans, in London, in Dover, in Jersey, in Calais, and just now in Paris, and here...
You welcomed me, surrounded me, reminding me of Mr. Victor Hugo's return to Paris back then, and of course, Emperor Napoleon Bonaparte.
You welcomed Hugo like a hero, welcomed Napoleon like a savior, as if holding a grand mass where all sins could be redeemed.
Then after welcoming Hugo, you started massacring the Commune; after welcoming the Emperor, you were defeated again."
The square was utterly silent; many people even held their breath.
Lionel's words spread like waves, layer by layer, to the edges of the crowd, and the Parisians present fell into silence.
Lionel's voice began to carry a deep sorrow:
"Time and again, we have unconsciously lost the ability to make independent judgments.
Any effort to find the true reasons behind this judicial farce, any exploration of colonialism, any criticism of social injustice...
All of it has been cut short and dissolved by your simple taking of sides and the slogans repeated countless times.
Hugo returned to Paris, and France remained so 'superficial'; the Emperor returned to Paris, and France remained so 'superficial'—
Compared to them, I am just an insignificant nobody. If I return to Paris, will France change?"
This time, he paused for a long while, placing a heavy stone on the heart of every listener.
"And evil, once it no longer needs to be seen or spoken of, acquires a natural cloak of invisibility.
It can then continue to grow wantonly under the cover of cheers and slogans.
And I, and this trial, have both become a piece of fabric on that cloak of invisibility."
Lionel cast a deep glance at the silent crowd below and made his final statement:
"Therefore, I must confess my guilt to all of you. Because of me, this 'superficial' carnival came to be; because of me, your enthusiasm has become a tool.
I am guilty!
Please, there's no need to shout for me outside the courthouse; go find things truly worthy of your passion,"
Having spoken, Lionel no longer lingered.
He cast a deep glance at his relatives and friends, whose expressions varied, at the bottom of the steps, then resolutely turned around and ascended the last step.
His back, straight and lonely, step by step, walked into the archway of the Palace of Justice, then was engulfed by a vast shadow, disappearing from everyone's sight.
——————
In a small room to the side of the Palace of Justice's main gate, several pairs of eyes were intently watching all of this, Lionel's words reaching their ears without missing a single one.
As Lionel turned and walked into the Palace of Justice, one of them cursed:
"Damn it, quickly go inform Bernard, the situation has changed!"
(End of chapter)