French Executions
Professor Nicolas Offenstadt
The execution of the mutineers of 1917 and those of other soldiers are frequently conflated in the minds of the public in contemporary France. The soldiers’ mutinies did not in any case begin in 1917, although they did reach their climax that year, and the mutineers only represented a small minority of all the soldiers who were shot for desertion: i.e. less than one-tenth of those executed by firing squad between 1914 and 1918. In other words, a study of executions during the First World War cannot be restricted merely to an account of the putting down of the mutinies.
Most of the French soldiers who were executed were condemned for fleeing in the face of the enemy (this term was also applied to combatants who deliberately wounded themselves to avoid going to the front), as well as for desertion, refusal to obey orders, dishonorable conduct and assaults on a superior officer (occasionally even the murder of an officer). A total of around 600 soldiers were executed.
To these figures must be added the summary executions for which evidence is sketchy. Thanks to statements by the soldiers who witnessed them and also occasionally to the official archives, it has been possible to piece together evidence of a dozen or so. However, it has proved impossible to come up with a firm figure. In some circumstances, summary executions were authorised, if not actually demanded, by the military command.
For example, during the Allied retreat in 1914, Joffre wrote to his subordinates: "I authorise you to take whatever measures you see fit to maintain order and discipline; I will support you entirely".
These summary executions appear to have been particularly numerous during the retreat and subsequent consolidation of the various fronts in 1914. General Boutegourd had seven soldiers from the 327th regiment shot on 7 September 1914 without even a preliminary hearing for retreating during the Battle of the Marne.
Some soldiers were shot following courts martial by a military tribunal, others were summarily executed by a firing squad, while others still were shot by their officers. Should we see in all these an "execution to set an example to others"? This expression is often used in too general a way, having been applied after the war to refer to those soldiers who were regarded as having been unjustly shot.
There is however no doubt that the need to set an example guided the disciplinary approach taken by French officers. According to a government representative who acted as a prosecutor at a military tribunal in 1914: "When passing sentence in time of war, the need to set an example must be regarded as far more important than the need to chastise. It is, after all, less a question of punishing a malefactor than of using the severity of repression to prevent unwanted behaviour from spreading".
This principle led to the arbitrary charging of soldiers without comparing their attitudes with those who were not on trial. They also resulted in death sentences that were entirely ad hoc. Execution was not a simple matter of meting out justice. Incidentally, the arbitrary nature of the charge or sentence did not mean that those soldiers selected for trial were always innocent of the crimes they were accused of committing under military law, as shown by this statement from a lawyer when speaking about the 1917 mutineers during the 1920s: "Vally’s guilt was in no doubt.
Yet it does not appear particularly equitable in a case of a collective mutiny such as the one in which Vally took part, that a mere handful of men regarded as the ringleaders were tried and condemned (sentenced to death and subsequently executed). Yet legally speaking, the fact that not all of those who were guilty were punished cannot be used as a basis for reviewing the sentence".
To understand the way in which military tribunals operated, it is necessary to take into account the appraisal of the individual on trial – his character as well as his qualities as a soldier. These appraisals were set against the alleged crime and the disciplinary approach required to produce the sentence. The way in which these different elements were weighed against each other changed throughout the war.
The initial months of the conflict were particularly difficult for French soldiers, and the sentences passed by the military tribunals were carried out with great severity, the more so since civil law was difficult to enforce. It was at this time that executions became especially frequent.
However, the subsequent stabilisation of the front and the increased influence of political institutions over the army put military tribunals into a more ‘controlled’ framework. From 1915 on, there were more measures designed to provide better guarantees for the accused (e.g. the review of individual cases by the President of the Republic, appeals, etc.). Most of these steps were advocated by members of parliament.
The question of repression took on a more urgent form at the time of the army mutinies, which from 1917 onwards threatened to engulf all the fighting units in the French Army.
In France, they were sparked off by the failure of the offensive launched by General Nivelle to retake the Chemin des Dames on the Aisne in April 1917. The weariness of the combatants, the mismanagement of leave and the shortage and poor quality of the rations all led to a refusal to take part in what were seen as yet more futile offensives and to a growing political awareness among the combatants.
In all, some 30 soldiers (out of a total of 30 to 40,000 mutineers) were shot after the mutinies had been put down. 1918 saw a decline in the number of executions, mainly due to the increased appreciation of the physical and mental state of the soldiers.
Nevertheless, these executions were not forgotten at the end of the war. On the contrary; even today - as witnessed by the controversy that arose in November 1998 - they are still a political issue.
To fully understand their implications, it is necessary to appreciate their public dimension. The sentences passed by military courts were often meant to serve as an example to others and their public dimension was thus essential. The names of the condemned men and the reason for their execution were read out in front of the assembled troops. Soldiers were forced to attend executions and to file past the body afterwards.
Many soldiers, even at the time, condemned the severity of the military tribunals but almost never demonstrated any active opposition to the execution of its sentences. If it is true that many soldiers were horrified by the execution of their fellow combatants, the feelings they expressed were often ambiguous, as shown by this letter in Paroles de poilus [The Soldier Speaks]: "I didn’t know his previous history, but I believe he was to be pitied, since he had four children. They wanted to set an example and he was unfortunate enough to be selected. It’s a tragedy, but on the other hand it gives those who might abandon their duty something to think about" (1915).
However, soldiers did express their objections to military justice, or at least they showed a form of solidarity with the condemned man by telling him they would give him a dignified funeral and would remember him when he had gone. One example of this was Fernand Inclair, shot for desertion of duty, whose grave became a place of pilgrimage for fellow soldiers who came and laid flowers there, as recounted later by the council for the defence. The grave apparently attracted so many pilgrims that the military authorities had to ban all further visits.
Two sources recollecting these individuals and the events of their death gradually began to emerge: the combatants themselves and the families of the executed. After the war, ex-combatants openly questioned the justice of many of the death sentences and demanded a pardon for some of their comrades, whom they regarded as having been unjustly executed.
An active campaign to rehabilitate these individuals, led by the AC, the League on the Rights of Man and left-wing elements, was relatively successful, although the struggle continued until the end of the 1930s. However, the memory of those who were executed gradually faded during the 1930s in the face of new concerns that were ultimately to lead to another war.
Yet even now their image remains, as reflected in literature and documentaries on the subject, and in an increasing number of acts of remembrance.
Professor Nicolas Offenstadt
A history lecturer and professor at the Fondation Thiers, Nicolas Offenstadt teaches contemporary history at the Institut d'Etudes politiques in Paris and has written a doctoral thesis on the discourse and rituals of peace during the Hundred Years War (University of Paris I). He is also researching pacifism and memories of the First World War.
• He has:
(Italian translation in preparation, Editori Riuniti) and articles in Revue d'histoire moderne et contemporaine, L'histoire, Les Cahiers de la nrf...
- edited issues of Matériaux pour l'histoire de notre temps n°30, January-March 1993 (the peace movement in France during the inter-war years) and of the Bulletin de l'Institut d'histoire du temps présent, n°51, March 1993 98 p: Pour une histoire de l'engagement pacifiste 1919-1939 (A History of Pacifist Engagement, 1919-1939), sources and bibliography. - published Les Fusillés de la Grande Guerre et la mémoire collective, (The Executed of the First World War and Public Memory) Odile Jacob, 1999, 285 p
- contributed to the Dictionnaire de l'histoire de France, Jean-François Sirinelli, Daniel Couty, eds, Paris, Armand Colin, 1999; 1938-1948, Les années de tourmente, de Munich à Prague, Dictionnaire critique, Paris, Flammarion, 1995, Jean-Pierre Azéma, François Bédarida eds; Dictionnaire biographique du mouvement ouvrier français, Jean Maitron and Claude Pennetier eds, Paris, éditions ouvrières.
This is a summary of an address given at the "Unquiet Graves" International Conference on Executions held in Flanders in May 2000.
