Devoid of any true principle, he was a man who always took the winning side, faithful to his perennial party, that of the majority… Is he a character from the past, or could he be from our days?

 

M any spoke out in that parliament; some shouted, others uttered empty words – everyone at the same time, without order or respect. In a corner, one man was analysing the scene: while the majority vied to have their say, he kept silent, attentive to the attitude of those around him. He was a gaunt figure, with a cold look in his eyes, and an aquiline nose. His appearance boasted no aesthetic quality; everything about him was angular and sombre-looking.

Then a vote began: “Yes,” said the more daring; “No,” demurred others. The scrawny man was waiting for the decisive moment, for he did not like to manifest his opinion before he had properly calculated what would be most profitable for him. At a certain point, the one who, hours before, had written a speech in favour of “No,” was called. “The good calculator had counted the votes and ascertained that he would have end up in the minority, the only party to which he will never belong; rising to the rostrum with his silent step, he muttered, ‘Death.’”1

As soon as he pronounced his vote, all eyes turned towards him. His friends felt the stab wound they had just received, without understanding the game he was playing; his enemies gave him a cynical smile of approval. In truth, this was someone who, “by reason of his subtle reserve, his audacious lack of character, his complete absence of convictions,”2 always placed himself, “calmly and without danger, on the winning side, in his perennial party, that of the majority.”3

Portrait of Joseph Fouché – Palace of Versailles (France)

Joseph Fouché4 had just become a regicide.

His ideal: to be free of convictions

It was January 16, 1793. For a moment the fate of Louis XVI passed through the tainted hands of that man, whose ideal was to be free of the slightest conviction. And he chose to sentence him to death. Consequently, a few days later, the inclement and intolerant blade of the guillotine would cut off the head of the King of France.

When Fouché left the parliament, the atmosphere was gloomy. After having committed such a horrendous crime, the deputy with the angular physiognomy walked calmly through the streets of Paris which seethed with a riotous population.

Perhaps, under the assaults of a guilty conscience, he sought to justify himself along the way, thinking: “Though long invested with a hidden and formidable power, I have used it only to calm passions, dissolve parties and prevent revolts – I, who have tried so hard to moderate and soften power, to reconcile or fuse the contrary elements and opposing interests that divide France.”5

In fact, it is always the deceitful banner of consensus that flutters when, faced with the necessity to make a firm decision based on true principles, one capitulates before the petty majority, out of fear or self-interest.6

In the spirit of consensus, convictions are renounced

But why remember this historical fact, which played out over two centuries ago? Does it hold some lesson for our times?

In a world of instability, insecurity and therefore of uncertainty, like the one in which we live, if our convictions about what is good, about the Church and about God are not rock solid, they will falter in the face of the psychological pressure or even the open persecution offered by those who seek to disfigure or destroy any presence of the supernatural on earth. For the instinct of sociability impels every man to want to “get along” with others, even if this means reneging acquired principles.

A paradigmatic example of this reality is found in the Passion of Our Lord: the same people who greeted Him with hosannas on Palm Sunday, a few days later – in a spirit of consensus – cried “Crucify Him”, committing the worst sin in history, the deicide.

How, then, can we acquire firm convictions, capable of overcoming any challenge? Upon what should they be based?

Unshakeable convictions are only born of faith

In explaining the definition of faith contained in the Letter to the Hebrews – “faith is the substance of things to be hoped for, the evidence of things that appear not” (11:1) – St. Thomas Aquinas notes that the term evidence is used here with a view to indicating its effect: by evidence the intellect is induced to adhere to a truth of faith, which is not verified by the senses. “Hence another reading has conviction, because to wit, the intellect of the believer is convinced by Divine authority, so as to assent to what it sees not.”7

Therefore, when conviction comes from faith, it becomes strong, casting out all doubt: “For when we describe it as evidence, we distinguish it from opinion, suspicion, and doubt, which do not make the intellect adhere to anything firmly.” 8

The Angelic Doctor does not, however, stop at mere intellectual elucubrations. He goes on to say that “it belongs to faith not only that the heart should believe, but also that external words and deeds should bear witness to the inward faith.” 9

Thus, when conviction is the fruit of faith, it tends to express itself in concrete attitudes, so that the more the soul is strengthened in this virtue, the greater is the will’s adhesion to principles. And since the virtues are sisters, charity, aided by the certainties of faith, is purified, so that acts of love become more steadfast and profound.

Woe to the contemporary “Fouchés”!

In the light of this doctrine, some questions arise for each one of us. Faced with the persecution that the true Church suffers in so many quarters, on whose side will I stand? If I am asked to deny my Christian principles in favour of the general opinion, what will I answer? Will I be counted among the followers of the unanimous consensus?

May God grant that we remain always steadfast in faith, unwavering in hope and ardent in charity (cf. Col 1:23), lest we discover that the strong convictions we thought we had are, in reality, the paltry fruit of a corrupt consensus. Towards the latter, let us never surrender our intelligence or our will, like infamous contemporary “Fouchés”.

 

Notes

1 ZWEIG, Stefan. Joseph Fouché. Retrato de um homem político. Rio de Janeiro: Guanabara, 1942, p.33.
2 Idem, p.30.
3 Idem, p.37.
4 Joseph Fouché was an influential and discreet politician during the French Revolution, and he came out of it unscathed; he eventually became Minister of Police during the Directory and the Napoleonic period.
5 FOUCHÉ, Joseph. Memórias sobre Fouché. São Paulo: José Olympio, 1946, p.11.
6 Former Prime Minister of the United Kingdom, Margaret Thatcher, notes: “To me consensus seems to be the process of abandoning all beliefs, principles, values and policies in search of something in which no-one believes, but to which no-one objects – the process of avoiding the very issues that have to be solved, merely because you cannot get agreement on the way ahead. What great cause would have been fought and won under the banner ‘I stand for consensus’?” (THATCHER, Margaret. Speech at Monash University, 6 out. 1981. In: www.margaretthatcher.org).
7 ST. THOMAS AQUINAS. Summa Theologiæ. II-II, q.4, a.1.
8 Idem, ibidem.
9 Idem, q.12, a.1, ad 2.

 

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