Robespierre: The Man Who Divides Us the Most

by Marcel Gauchet, Malcolm DeBevoise (Translator)

How Robespierre’s career and legacy embody the dangerous contradictions of democracy

Maximilien Robespierre (1758–1794) is arguably the most controversial and contradictory figure of the French Revolution, inspiring passionate debate like no other protagonist of those dramatic and violent events. The fervor of those who defend Robespierre the “Incorruptible,” who championed the rights of the people, is met with revulsion by those who condemn him as the bloodthirsty tyrant who sent people to the guillotine. Marcel Gauchet argues that he was both, embodying the glorious achievement of liberty as well as the excesses that culminated in the Terror.

In much the same way that 1789 and 1793 symbolize the two opposing faces of the French Revolution, Robespierre’s contradictions were the contradictions of the revolution itself. Robespierre was its purest incarnation, neither the defender of liberty who fell victim to the corrupting influence of power nor the tyrant who betrayed the principles of the revolution. Gauchet shows how Robespierre’s personal transition from opposition to governance was itself an expression of the tragedy inherent in a revolution whose own prophetic ideals were impossible to implement.

This panoramic book tells the story of how the man most associated with the founding of modern French democracy was also the first tyrant of that democracy, and it offers vital lessons for all democracies about the perpetual danger of tyranny.

Genres: History, French Revolution, Biography, France, Nonfiction, 21st Century

224 pages, Hardcover

Published March 8, 2022

About the author

Marcel Gauchet (born 1946, Poilley, Manche, France) is a French historian, philosopher and sociologist. He is emerit professor of the Centre de recherches politiques Raymond Aron at the École des Hautes Études en Sciences Sociales and head of the periodical Le Débat.

Gauchet is one of France's most prominent contemporary intellectuals. He has written widely on such issues as the political consequences of modern individualism, the relation between religion and democracy, and the dilemmas of globalisation.

To date, only two of Gauchet's books have been translated into English, most notably The Disenchantment of the World: A Political History of Religion.

Reviews

[Nicole1999 · Rating 4 out of 5]

"Robespierre has remained a figure of fascination for the French people ever since, notwithstanding the horror that came to be attached to his name. It is not hard to see why. He occupies a special place in the gallery of tyrants. He did not wish to have power for himself. As Cassat had rightly seen from a distance, Robespierre was not motivated by ambition. He sought, by radical means, to bring into existence the power that the rights of man demanded—rights of which he had made himself the champion and which the overthrow of the monarchy had suddenly made possible. Just so, it was a power that belonged to no one person; it was an indivisible power that expressed the will of citizens united in obedience to the law and respect for the public interest. The problem was twofold. On the one hand, no such power could possibly exist; on the other, Robespierre's total sincerity enabled him to personify the ideal of impersonality. In combination, these things made him a tyrant unlike any other: the embodiment of the impossible unity of an unfindable people. 'In this way,' Cassat wrote, 'the most implacable enemy of every kind of despotism was himself invested with the most dangerous [one] of all. He came to it unawares, as it were, carried along by the irresistible torrent of circumstances.' Robespierre 'did not mistrust himself enough, and that is what ruined him.' Thus virtue came to be converted into terror."

As one of the historical figures that I find absolutely fascinating, I was anticipating reading this book with the hopes that it would answer some of my questions regarding the many contradictions found within the man, Maximilien Robespierre. I was not disappointed. For me, it answered many questions but for me the most important one answered was how Robespierre became a tyrant all while supposedly ridding France of despots and dictators. The quote above reveals some of the answer in that Robespierre unknowingly became a tyrant in his pursuit to become the "voice of the people."

Robespierre tied in really well with the book I read previously for my Historathon challenge, The Radicalism of the American Revolution, and it's discussion on republics and public/private interests. As America began to grow into a nation during the early 1800s, the Founding Fathers slowly came to realize that their dream of America being led by people pursuing only public interests was never to be realized. People are much too fallible and motivated by their own private and self interests. This is ultimately what Robespierre came to realize as well. His pursuit to rid France of it's enemies through terror was never going to end because the France he envisioned led by virtuous people was simply never going to exist.

Overall, I really enjoyed this book and the insight it gave me into Robespierre's ideas and plans for the future he imagined. I would not recommend this as someone's first foray into the French Revolution but for those wanting to know more about Robespierre and his role in the Revolution. I'm still kind of confused by all the groups/clubs in the French Revolution and this book did not really clear that up so I'm planning on reading some more general books about the French Revolution in the future. I wish more French books on Robespierre were translated into English!

[Peter Bradley · Rating 4 out of 5]

History Matters - Narcissism, the Original Left, and the Revolutionary Tradition
Peter S Bradley
Sep 30, 2025
Robespierre: The Man Who Divides Us


It may be odd that I don’t have a visceral opinion about Robespierre.

On the one hand, he was the dominant figure of the Committee of Public Safety, which was responsible for executing thousands during the Reign of Terror. He was the first in what has turned out to be a bloody history of revolutionary oppression in the interest of immanentizing the eschaton.

On the other hand, Robespierre was noteworthy for being one of the rare monsters to actually go down in bloody humiliation to the Revolution he led. Also, in terms of mass murdering ideologues, Robespierre isn’t in the same league as Lenin, Hitler, Stalin, Mao, and Pol Pot.

My first impression of Robespierre was formed in seventh grade. In the honors history class, the teacher had us recreate the ancien regime in a game called “Star Power,” where students were assigned to different social classes. I think I was in the serf class, so my involvement was minimal. The game progressed through the stages of the revolution, culminating in David Blumberg ultimately taking on the role of Robespierre, announcing, “off with their heads” to everyone present. As a serf, I didn’t care much, although it was nice to see the people who got to actually play the game get served up, which was probably the point of the game.

The Robespierre presented by Marcel Gauchet was not as interesting as the one played by David Blumberg. Gauchet’s focus is on the French ambivalence over Robespierre. For many French historians, mostly on the right, Robespierre is condemned as a criminal. For others, mostly Marxists, Robespierre is, if not exactly a hero, at least someone who played his historical role in allowing the bourgeoisie to fulfill its role in overthrowing the feudal aristocracy. This French ambivalence is woven into the geography of Paris; while other revolutionaries have streets named after them, there is no street named after Robespierre.

Gauchet’s view is that this ambivalence is baked into Robespierre’s life as a revolutionary. Robespierre’s participation in the Revolution lasted five years, from 1789, when he began as a delegate to the National Assembly, until 1794, when he was deposed and executed, marking the beginning of what would be dubbed the “Thermidorian Reaction.”[1] Robespierre began with a deep attachment to Jean Jacque Rousseau; he incorporated Rousseau’s appeal to the General Will into his speeches. He lived simply and did not engage in the corruption of other members of the Assembly. His admirers named him “the Incorruptible.”

From 1789 to 1792, Robespierre was in the opposition. It was easy for someone in the opposition to grandstand about the unsullied virtue of the People and the necessity of representing the General Will; grand gestures can be made in the opposition without any responsibility for administration, war, or the economy. During his time in the opposition, Robespierre was able to give full rein to his performative narcissism, where he identified himself with the People and the People with himself. The People responded, at least the people who constituted the Paris Commune. These people viewed Robespierre as their man in the Constitutional Convention. The Paris Commune would therefore turn out when necessary to riot and murder en masse and anonymously. [2]

Robespierre’s performative narcissism was tolerable in opposition. In power, it became intolerable.

Robespierre’s move into power occurred in 1793 when the Jacobins purged the Girondins by using the Paris Commune as their weapon.[3] This moved the Jacobins to a position of power. Robespierre became a figure in the Committee of Public Safety, which sought to administer the policy of ruthlessly repressing dissidents and scaring everyone else into submission to the Revolution, aka the Terror.

The move into power did not change Robespierre’s rhetoric. He continued to identify himself with the Revolution and the General Will. With this rhetorical appeal to the people, Robespierre exercised influence with the Paris Commune, which had been used to liquidate the Girondins, and, therefore, over the Constitutional Convention.

Robespierre exercised this power to send Hebert and the Enrages, and Danton and the Indulgent, to the guillotine in April 1794. In this crisis, Robespierre made maximum use of his role as the Incorruptible and his connection with the Paris Commune. He also invoked conspiracies on the right and the left to obtain compliance from the deputies.

Gauchet’s narrative presents a strangely disengaged Robespierre. Rather than being a hands-on dictator, micromanaging the Revolution and exercising direct control, Robespierre was one member of the Committee of Public Safety, a position which he often neglected in favor of giving speeches. Between the fall of Danton in April and his own fall in August, Robespierre did not attend Committee meetings for weeks. He did use his influence to promote his own version of religion – the Cult of the Supreme Being – and lowered the temperature on de-Christianization efforts.

Was Robespierre a dictator? The answer is ambivalent. Gauchet explains:

The effects of this contradiction were many and powerful. On the one hand, the self-image that he constructed in a hall of mirrors with allies and adversaries alike ordained him to be the master of the Revolution. It made him the embodiment of the principles that the Revolution ought to inculcate in every citizen, the exemplar of a kind of selflessness that would bring about the fusion of individual wills in a sovereign union of the people. It endowed him, in other words, with the authority of a guide. Whence the recurrent accusations of dictatorial behavior that were to hound him in the months to come, charges that were as inevitable as they were misconceived. Robespierre’s self-image was part of his innermost being, as curious as this may have appeared to observers at the time. History provides us with no other example of someone who succeeded in objectively exercising a kind of dictatorship without subjectively putting himself in the position of a dictator, which is to say, as a practical matter, without providing himself with the means of actually exercising dictatorial power. His language was dictatorial, not his person.

Gauchet, Marcel. Robespierre: The Man Who Divides Us the Most (p. 56). Princeton University Press. Kindle Edition.

Robespierre was committed to the continuation of the Terror, but this policy was shared by many others, including those who would replace him. In May 1794, Robespierre sided with the enactment of legislation that streamlined and centralized the Terror. Gauchet explains:

Moreover, the effects of the Law of 22 Prairial were not slow in making themselves felt. Prisoners poured into the prisons of the capital; convictions and executions sharply increased. Whereas 1,231 death sentences had been handed down by the Revolutionary Tribunal between 6 April 1793 and 10 June 1794, a period of more than a year, the number for the six weeks between 11 June and 27 July 1794 was 1,376—hence the name “The Great Terror” that came to be attached to this bloody month and a half.

Gauchet, Marcel. Robespierre: The Man Who Divides Us the Most (p. 142). Princeton University Press. Kindle Edition.

The irony was that Robespierre started his public career by opposing the death penalty. This seems to be a fate of many on the Left, who come in with ideals and leave in hypocrisy.

Opposition is easy; administration requires results. Results are difficult. In government, Robespierre found that not everyone shared his revolutionary incorruptibility, including his fellow deputies and the People themselves. Robespierre reasoned that the difficulties the Revolution was facing were due to conspiracies and corruption.

In August 1794, he began to speak nebulously about unnamed conspiracies on the right and the left, as he had before the liquidation of Danton and Hebert three months before. The other members of the Convention began to fear for their safety. This time, they struck first and outlawed Robespierre. Support evaporated under Robespierre’s feet. When he ran to the Commune for support, his supporters were unable to muster the courage to defend Robespierre against the Revolution. Robespierre attempted to commit suicide, but only succeeded in nearly blowing off his jaw. The following day, Robespierre and his shattered jaw, and a half dozen of his supporters, were guillotined.

I’ve provided a brief description of the events here. Gauchet is not nearly as merciful. Although he generally follows the chronology of Robespierre’s life during this five-year period, he assumes that the reader knows the details. The great events of the Revolution, the status of the war, and the execution of the King are mentioned as they pertain to Robespierre’s situation, but they are not explained.

Gauchet’s interest is primarily in the intellectual world that Robespierre seemed to understand himself as inhabiting. We receive a great deal of information about Robespierre's writing and speeches, as well as his understanding of himself as the embodiment of the General Will. This is interesting and revealing stuff, albeit it may be on a higher level for those who want to know about the development of the French Revolution. For example, understanding Robespierre’s self-perception explains why he acted as he did, and it also explains why people reacted to him in the way they did.

I am also currently reading Edmond Wilson’s “To the Finland Station,” which explores the intellectual history of socialism up to the Russian Revolution. It is fascinating to see the parallels between that history and this history. For example, Gachet emphasizes Robespierre’s narcissism:

The innermost impulses that gave rise to Robespierre’s conduct are inseparable from a body of ideas that coalesced with them to form a system. It is not the development of his personality from childhood that concerns us here; it is how the events of the Revolution and the cause to which he had devoted himself combined to transform his personality at a crucial moment, and what they caused it to mean for others. It would be a simple matter if this tendency to self-celebration derived merely from the common vanity of someone seeking to create a favorable image of himself. But something altogether different is at work here, I believe, an extension of the self through its projection and dissolution in something greater than itself. Robespierre did idealize himself, to be sure, through his idealization of the people, but his identification with this idealized people was total and absolutely sincere. In no way can he be seen as an ordinary demagogue who cynically flatters the people solely for his own benefit. Robespierre’s disinterestedness was complete and beyond question. He was animated by a sort of sacrificial narcissism; his aspiration to disappear behind a higher calling, which had the effect of magnifying his own exceptionalism, blinded him to himself. But this glaring contradiction is precisely what allowed him to personify the impersonality of revolutionary ideals in its purest form, what allowed him to be admired as an unrivaled example of the individual citizen’s devotion to the public welfare. Inevitably, however, this same contradiction led to a profound difference of opinion: some saw only an honorable will to self-abnegation, considering Robespierre an example to be generally imitated; others only a self-serving infatuation with the image of a solitary seeker of justice.

Gauchet, Marcel. Robespierre: The Man Who Divides Us the Most (p. 55). Princeton University Press. Kindle Edition.

There is something about hearing someone describe themselves as “the Incorruptible” that will incline a person to see them guillotined.

The theme of narcissism is amplified by Gauchet concerning Robespierre’s final day. Gauchet writes:

When Robespierre mounted the tribune on 8 Thermidor, having not addressed the Convention for more than a month and a half, everyone knew that the moment of truth had come at last—that “the veil was going to be lifted,” to recall one of the favorite expressions of revolutionary rhetoric. As it turned out, his listeners could only have felt a deep sense of frustration. The veil was not really lifted. The charges he had rehearsed before the Jacobins and now set out to expand upon were not demonstrated by anything resembling a proper argument. The allegation of a “conspiracy against the Republic,” led by a “criminal coalition that intrigues within the Convention itself,” was supported by nothing more than a train of vague allusions—with one bizarre exception—that left the masterminds lurking, as always, in the shadows.

The first object of the speech, and surely not the least important in the eyes of its author, was to justify himself once and for all against the defamatory accusation that he sought to exercise dictatorial powers. Here we find the Robespierre of old, with his deep-seated need to pour out his heart and his compulsion to cultivate the image of a just man unjustly persecuted. The self-pitying narcissism that we have encountered more than once before now reached its height.

Gauchet, Marcel. Robespierre: The Man Who Divides Us the Most (p. 152). Princeton University Press. Kindle Edition.

Note that the “dictator,” who rule France through his speeches, had not spoken to the Convention for a month. Lenin and Trotsky would have been more protective of their power; Stalin would have psychopathically sniffed out conspiracies. (To be fair, Lenin learned from Robespierre’s mistake.)

Gauchet also explains:

Robespierre’s last public words deserve closer examination, not least because here we find the enigma of the man in concentrated form. Indeed, the speech itself supports two completely opposite readings. It is possible, on the one hand, to see it as a small masterpiece of Machiavellianism, dramatizing the threats made against him—the indispensable figure of the Revolution—in order to seize power, ridding himself of colleagues who had gotten in the way and forming a government wholly subject to his will. For what would a government unified under the supreme authority of the Convention resemble if not a government utterly devoted to his supreme authority, itself identical to that of the Convention? On the other hand, one can also see his pathetically solitary determination to risk everything as the impassioned reaction of a wounded man, no more able to tolerate contradiction than to admit the failure of his dream, carried away by a lethal narcissism to the point that the idea of making one last senseless throw of the dice was irresistible. This interpretation, appealing to the force of emotions, is roughly the one Saint-Just intended to give in his speech the following day. He excused Robespierre’s remarks as the result of a pardonable outburst of temper, refusing to ascribe to them a significance they did not have and calling upon his listeners to embrace prudence once more.

Gauchet, Marcel. Robespierre: The Man Who Divides Us the Most (pp. 157-158). Princeton University Press. Kindle Edition.

Robespierre was no Stalin, Lenin, or Trotsky. They would have eaten him alive.

But there is a similarity with Lenin and Trotsky (and with Marx.) Each of these men managed the knack of identifying themselves with the Revolution or History (or vice versa.) Narcissism appears to be positively correlated with revolutionary political leadership.[4]

This is an interesting book. It is fairly dense and would not be suitable for anyone interested in the quotidian details of the French Revolution. It is not a biography of Robespierre. We learn nothing about Robespierre prior to 1789. It seems that Robespierre comes out of nowhere, improbably rises to power, and just as dramatically falls in disgrace.

Footnotes:

[1] The coup against Robespierre occurred on July 27, 1794, which was 9 Thermidor according to the Revolutionary Calendar adopted in 1793. Year One was 1792. The calendar consisted of twelve 30-day months, each of which had three 10-day months.

[2] The great advantage of the Jacobins was that Paris was the control room of France, and the Paris Commune controlled Paris. The Commune acting violently and as a mob was the antifa of its day, or, better still, antifa aspires to be the Paris Commune of today.

[3] The Girondins were a group of deputies who took over the practical administration of the French state after the French monarchy was overthrown in August 1792 and the French Republic was proclaimed. Many of these deputies were from the Girond region of France, and, therefore, were called “Girondins.” Jacobins were members of a political club that met at the monastery of the Jacobins. Girondins could also be members of the Jacobin Club, but the term “Jacobin” came to mean the more radical element of the Assembly. There were even more radical members of the Assembly who advocated for more executions, called the Enrages. Another group, including Danton, advocated a reduction of terror and, thus, were called the Indulgents. There was also a division between the Jacobins who occupied the high seats of the Assembly, aka the “Mountain,” and more moderate deputies on the lower seats, aka the Plain, who were mostly all Jacobins. The Girondins were sent to the guillotine in August 1793; the Indulgents and Enragés followed in the Spring of 1794, and Robespierre and his clique would follow in August 1794.

[4] There is a lot of narcissism on the left today, which may be an inheritance going back to the French Revolution. Of course, the knack of identifying oneself with the Cause was mastered by Hitler (who was also a socialist of the right Hegelian kind).

[Cristiano Cazzoletti · Rating 5 out of 5]

Ottimo libro
Lumeggia la figura del grande protagonista della rivoluzione francese.
lo sottrae dalla apologia e dalla demonizzazione e ne fa un ritratto profondo e ben delineato.
Né eroe, né mostro ma autentico rivoluzionario, segnato dal fuoco di un'idea che ha fruttificato e causato al contempo gravi conseguenze nelle più rigide interpretazioni.

[Varad · Rating 4 out of 5]

Here is the review of the book I wrote for the Washington Examiner.

https://www.washingtonexaminer.com/op...


Thursday 5/19/22