In October 1951 Albert Camus published The Rebel, an essay on man in revolt, concerned with criticising the legitimacy of political violence, irrespective of whether it originated on the left or the right.
The central argument of Camus’ book is that although the origins of revolt are legitimate, there is a point in the revolutionary arc when a rebel’s actions may negate the legitimacy of these origins, and this is the point when the oppressed in turn becomes the oppressor. Against this outcome, Camus argues for the presence of limits or measure in the act of rebellion; a balance between justice and liberty, which he hoped would create a rule of conduct separate from the extremes of both sides of the political divide.
To have such an argument heard in Cold War France was an impossible task. The Rebel sold far fewer copies than Camus’ previous publications. It may have been largely forgotten had it not been for the late, and vitriolic, review that appeared in May 1952, in Les temps modernes, the leading cultural and philosophical journal, operated by Camus’ long time friend, Jean-Paul Sartre.
This review led to a quarrel which effectively—and very publicly—ended the friendship bet ween Camus and Sartre.
A large section of The Rebel criticises the violent excesses of communism; and this came at a time when Sartre and his journal were aligning themselves more closely with the communists. Their view was that any criticism levelled against communism would aid both Western capitalism and the right, and must therefore be silenced.
The eight month delay in issuing this review was partly due to the relationship between Camus and Sartre. On a personal level, they may have been friends, but politically and philosophically the pair had been moving in separate directions for some time. Sartre took a long time reaching his own position, justifying the use of political violence. It was first articulated in some articles he wrote during the eight months between the publication of The Rebel and the appearance of its review. In light of this, any review of The Rebel would no doubt have been negative; but Camus had hoped—perhaps naively—that it would at least be fair. It wasn’t.
The review, published in May 1952, was written by Francis Jeanson, one of the younger members of the editorial board at Les temps modernes. In August, Camus’ furious reply was published, along with Sartre’s acerbic response, and