Page 117 - BLACK SKIN, WHITE MASK

78 BLACK SKIN, WHITE MASKS

where the only masters are lies and demagogy. One must concede
32
that in some circumstances the socius is more important than the
individual. I recall what Pierre Naville wrote:
To speak of society’s dreams as one speaks of the dreams of the individual,
to discuss collective will to power as one discusses individual sexual drive,
is to reverse the natural order of things once more, because, on the
contrary, it is the economic and social conditions of class confl icts that

32. We bring up in this connection the following testimony given at a trial in
Tananarive.
(Session of August 9. Rakotovao states:)
M. Baron said to me, “Since you refuse to accept what I just told you, I’m sending
you to the ‘thinking room.’ ...” I was led into the adjoining chamber. The fl oor of
the room in question was already covered with water. There was a pail full of dirty
water, not to mention other things. M. Baron said to me, “Now you’ll learn to
agree to what I said you should declare.” He gave an order to a Senegalese to “do
the same to me as to the others.” The Senegalese made me kneel with my wrists
facing outward; then he took wooden tongs and squeezed my hands together; then,
with me kneeling and my two hands pressed together, he put his foot on the back
of my neck and forced my head down into the bucket. Seeing that I was on the
point of fainting, he removed his foot so that I could get some air. And this was
repeated again and again until I was completely exhausted. Then M. Baron said,
“Take him away and beat him.” The Senegalese thereupon used a bull-whip, but
M. Baron came into the torture chamber and personally took part in the whipping.
This went on for about fi fteen minutes, I think, after which I said that I couldn’t
endure any more, because in spite of my youth it was unbearable. Then he said,
“In that case you must agree to what I told you before!”
“No, Monsieur le directeur, it is not true.”
Thereupon he sent me back into the fi rst torture chamber and called in another
Senegalese, since one was not enough, and he ordered them to hold me up by the
feet and lower me into the bucket as far as my chest. This they did several times.
Finally I told them, “It’s too much! Let me talk to M. Baron,” and to him I said,
“I request at least that I be treated in a manner befi tting France, Monsieur le
directeur,” to which he replied, “You’re getting French treatment!”
Since I could stand no more, I said to him, “All right, I’ll accept the fi rst part
of your statement.” M. Baron replied, “No, I don’t want the fi rst part, I want it
all.” “Am I supposed to lie, then?” “Lie or no lie, you must agree to what I tell
you. . . .”
(The testimony went on:)
Immediately M. Baron said, “Try some other method on him.” I was then taken
back into the adjoining room, where there was a small stone stairway. My arms were
tied behind me. The two Senegalese again held me with my feet in the air and made
me go up and down the stairs in this way. This was beginning to be unendurable,
and, even if I had had any moral strength left, it was physically too much. I said to
the Senegalese, “Tell your boss I’ll agree to what he wants me to say.”
(In the session of August 11, Robert, a defendant, testifi ed:)
The policeman took me by my shirt collar and kicked me in the behind and
punched me in the face. Then he forced me to kneel, and M. Baron began hitting
me again.

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