Minotaur: French Military Justice and the Aernoult-Rousset Affair

TEN—Breaking Codes

TEN Breaking Codes Captain Godiot didn’t submit his report to General Oudard in Algiers until November 29, 1911. He quietly dropped the attempted theft charge that Pan-Lacroix had suggested be added to the indictment, since after all, no theft had ever been attempted. But he was much less circumspect regarding the murder charge. Godiot recommended to General Oudard that Rousset be prosecuted for voluntary homicide, the weightiest of charges. General Oudard decided to convene the conseil de guerre with surprising swiftness. Rousset’s trial would begin on December 8. If convicted, he would theoretically be liable for the death penalty.1 Would the various types of antimilitarists who had sought to outdo one another in supporting Rousset prior to the incident at Médéa be willing to fight on for him now? What were the stakes of sallying forth against military justice one more time under the banner of Émile Rousset, proletarian martyr? Certainly any pragmatic assessment of the general political climate would leave doubts about the prospect of success— that climate continued to shift quite palpably in militarists’ favor. Tensions with Germany had spiked with the dramatic arrival of a German gunboat at the Moroccan port of Agadir Breaking Codes 181 in July 1911, a deliberately provocative intervention by the Kaiser into what had been regarded as a French sphere of interest. Such was the temper of the times that Premier Caillaux’s effort to lower temperatures by bartering a portion of France’s African holdings for German acceptance of her Moroccan protectorate would be met with howls of outrage and lead to the fall of his government in January 1912. Under the circumstances, it was hardly surprising that both the cabinet and the legislature were prioritizing military strength and preparedness. Regarding military justice specifically, this could be expected to translate into a hardening of basic institutions and practices, and abrupt dismissal of reformists’ initiatives. The idea would be to act even more resolutely against elements subverting discipline, including those unruly apaches who so demoralized and even corrupted the honest recruits with whom they came in contact in the ranks. On November 30, Georges Berry submitted a proposal to the Chamber of Deputies intended to widen the barriers against those contaminants by extending the cachement pool for the Bats d’Af beyond the categories stipulated in the 1905 legislation. Berry’s proposal would reduce the prison term involving a Bat d’Af posting, from three months to one, and add vagabondage and graft to the criminal acts covered. Apaches, however, were not the only threats to discipline against which military justice could be directed. Antimilitarist propagandists and leftist radicals were targeted as well. Rumors that the war ministry would seek to supplement Berry’s proposal—byaddingtohislistofoffensestriggeringaBatd’Afpostingactions such as “outrages to the army, provocation to disobedience, desertion, and insubordination,” as well as strike-related sabotage—would prove true.2 The measures were first considered by interim War Minister Adolphe Messimy and, after January, by War Minister Alexandre Millerand (like Briand, a heretical Socialist). To the left, the Berry-Millerand Law announced in February 1912 was frightening on two levels: for what it directly portended and for the apparent ease with which it was passed. The national mood was clearly changing, and the antimilitarists knew it. What was to be done? Were propaganda and agitation on behalf of Émile Rousset appropriate countermeasures against this new threat, and against the nationalist/militarist tide on which it advanced? Or would such actions strengthen militarists’ position? Pragmatists within the Aernoult-Rousset coalition could see the risks. If Rousset were indeed guilty, the new measures would be politically fortified. Not only would the jurisdiction’s harshness toward real and suspected apaches seem justified, but its critics would 182 M I N O T A U R stand revealed as naïve, or worse.3 What was needed was, at the very least, a reasonable argument for Rousset’s innocence. But this argument would be hard to mount. There were, after all, five eyewitnesses alleging his guilt. There was the seeming implausibility of his explanation of how his bloody knife had found its way to his cell. Above all, there was his delay in accusing Bordessoulle and the weakness of that allegation, including the absence of any apparent motive.4 Not surprisingly, Socialists on the mixed commission charged with arranging demonstrations to accompany the return of Aernoult’s body were...