A fabricated history of an anti-nazi resistance fighter has become the almost universally accepted truth about Jean-Paul Sartre’s activities under Nazi occupation during World War II. This history was primarily concocted by Simone de Beauvoir with Sartre’s support, in order to cover up the couple’s acquiescence and relative collaboration with the Nazi occupation of France. And it was only with the liberation of Paris, and with the assistance of Albert Camus, that the couple’s politics and public persona was completely transformed. To what extent the vitriol of Sartre’s later personal attack on Camus during their historic confrontation several years later was fueled by Sartre’s guilt and resentment directed at Camus, whose personal history was certainly not so morally compromised, is a legitimate matter for speculation.
These issues are addressed in my recently published controversial re-thinking of the historical relation of these key intellectual and cultural leaders in post-war European and American civilization. That article, “Sartre and Camus: a much misunderstood relation,” a brief excerpt of which is reproduced below, appeared in Brill’s Companion To Camus: Camus Among The Philosophers. For more information about, or to receive a complete copy of, the article, simply contact me at dsprintz@me.com. Questions, comments, and discussions of the continuing relevance of these issues are, of course, more than welcome.
The Excerpt.
“I think that it is also fair to say that the pre-wwii Sartre was essentially oblivious to political matters. He spent the academic year 1933–1934 studying philosophy in Berlin with no obvious reference to or effective realization of the significance of the rise to power of Adolph Hitler. We cannot know his actual thoughts at that time, because, quite remarkably, practically all of his correspondence from that period is missing. But Simone de Beauvoir does report on a trip that they took to Fascist Italy in 1936, for which they availed themselves, with no expressed misgivings, of a discounted train trip, which required them to visit a display of Fascist military equipment, and with no comment made on the political situation by either of them.
Then there was the war itself, for which de Beauvoir, with Sartre’s apparent approval, later concocted a series of fabrications of resistance activity that apparently did not exist. Contrary to their fabrications, Sartre did not escape from a German prison camp, but was freed by the Germans, probably upon the request of the notorious collaborator, Pierre Drieu la Rochelle. Furthermore, there is absolutely no evidence for the existence of the purported underground group, “Socialism and Liberty”, that Sartre was supposed to have created, nor for the purported French constitution that he was supposed to have written, even supposedly having sent a copy to Charles de Gaulle. In fact, what evidence there is suggests both his and de Beauvoir’s limited collaboration with the German occupation: Sartre writing a couple of articles for “Commoedia” and serving on an artistic jury for them in 1943, and de Beauvoir producing a series of brief programs for Radio Vichy as late as 1944. Thus the almost universally accepted version of a “Sartre of the Resistance” is a complete fabrication, apparently primarily concocted by de Beauvoir with Sartre’s approval.
In addition, Sartre’s philosophical and dramatic writing up to that time shows no signs of any left-wing political consciousness. There is certainly none in Being and Nothingness. Sartreans often claim that Sartre’s mid-war plays, The Flies and No Exit, are expressions of his political commitment to human liberation, being hidden critiques of Nazi occupation and invitations to resistance. Of course, such interpretations fail to explain how the Nazi censors could have been so dense as to miss those meanings when they approved these plays for presentation under the Occupation. But I think that the reality is less confusing, because in fact both of these plays say nothing about political oppression and rebellion, but rather direct themselves only to the question of the human being’s ontological freedom. This is a position that perfectly represents the existential philosophy developed in Being and Nothingness.
Actually, it is Camus who plays a major role in what we might understand as the beginning of Sartre’s political rehabilitation, specifically, in providing Sartre with resistance credibility by using his position as editor of Combat to assign Sartre the task of writing about the liberation of Paris, an article that in fact was probably written by de Beauvoir. It is only with the liberation of Paris and the consequent defeat of the Nazis that Sartre becomes politically engaged. While there is no adequate account of the nature of his conscious transformation, that transformation is announced with his call for the death penalty for collaborators, then with his creation of what becomes the premier journal of the French Left, Les Temps modernes, along with his subsequent articles on “Reflections on the Jewish Question”, and with his existential critique of Marxism in Materialism and Revolution. All this not only served to completely erase any knowledge of his ambiguous war-time activities, but also required him to begin theoretically to confront the profound tension that existed between the ontological celebration of unlimited human freedom that is existentialism and the historical materialism and apparent causal determinism that was central to Marxism, or at least to official Communist interpretations of it.
Thus begins a profound redirection that will thematically define much of the rest of Sartre’s life, playing a crucial role in the slow transformation of his relationship with Camus, and culminating with their definitive break following the publication by Camus of The Rebel in late 1951. Initiated by Francis Jeanson’s obviously polemical review of The Rebel in Les Temps modernes, the break was consummated by the responses of Camus, Sartre, and Jeanson a few months thereafter. While I will have more to say about that controversy shortly, what I want to note here is the divergent political paths that led from Camus’s and Sartre’s post-wwii personal, social, and political alignment—can I say “friendship”?—to their passionately ideological and political antagonism that endured until the end of Camus’s life in 1960.”