In the end, we believe we have fulfilled the emperor’s desire as expressed in an epigram. We have exonerated him of the accusation of “having loved war too much.” We have proved that “he was always attacked,” an expression that of course must be interpreted as “had never provoked a war.” One must scatter to the winds once and for all the false image of Napoleon the swashbuckler, the unrepentant war monger and insatiable conqueror.
Napoleon was the worthy successor of all the rulers of France “from Clovis to the Committee of Public Safety,” to use his own words. A man of order who triumphed in the midst of disorder, he first tamed the Revolution. An authentic man of the Enlightenment, he consecrated the principle of popular sovereignty and roused democracy throughout Europe. An inspired builder of a new world, he liberated the extraordinary forces of progress in France, infusing it with vitality.
The resulting upheaval shook the thrones of Europe and threatened the imperialistic hegemony of Britain. Coming from outside and from within France, an inevitable conservative reaction of all those privileged under the old order developed and survived, despite innumerable defeats. Grabbed by the throat, Napoleon’s France thus found itself engaged in a spiral of incessant wars. In the 15 years of his reign, Napoleon had to deal with six implacable military coalitions, otherwise known as “crusades.”
Confronted by this relentless steamroller, Napoleon was forced to base the defense policy of France on the principle of diverting war, which today is termed deterrence. The gigantic public work of rebuilding France required all his energy and was incompatible with any military adventure. War was always a terrible intrusion on Napoleon’s immense labors. He never engaged the Grand Armeé except in a state of legitimate defense. In the warlike assault imposed upon him, he never ceased to treat the defeated in a more than reasonable manner, in the illusory hope of softening them. Contrary to those who insidiously attempt to differentiate between Bonaparte the Good and Napoleon the Evil, a functional unity connected the two. All Napoleon did was to defend tooth and nail the new France built by Bonaparte.
The history of the Empire has thus become confused with an interminable and glorious military resistance whose duration approached the miraculous. This longevity can only be explained by the exceptional conjunction of Napoleon’s military genius and the unfailing, heroic attachment of “my people,” as the emperor referred to the French. Never had a nation been in such perfect symbiosis with its representative.
Given the inequality of forces available, the final defeat was unavoidable. Nonetheless, the fall of the Empire was only an illusion. In 1815, though the standard bearer of democratic hopes was defeated, the hopes themselves were not—they only went into hibernation. After a first flourishing in 1830, they reappeared in full bloom in 1848, allowing the sovereign people of France to recover the usurped crown. Throughout Europe, the population cast off the yoke of their oppressors to cries of “Vive Napoleon!” The liberating message resounded around the planet. As “a meteor destined to burn so as to illuminate the world,” Napoleon finally knew his posthumous triumph.
Napoleon, like a Titan, dominated his epoch and, indeed, all history from an amazing height. His Homeric epic seemed based in Greek mythology, and will doubtless join similar epics for the ages to come. His reforms and ideals created the basis of the modern era, and were fought by those who feared the future.
Like Prometheus, Napoleon committed the “crime” of “stealing the fire of heaven and giving it to mankind.”