Fouché had rushed to visit Carnot under the cover of night. Carnot eyed him with disdain, but Fouché, unfazed, pointed out the significant regression in the principles of freedom and democracy that Paris once held dear, and he believed it was abnormal and unsustainable.
Carnot, not a fan of Fouché due to his unpredictability, wasn't too fond of his presence. However, he knew Fouché wasn't entirely wrong. Still, he replied, "You may have some valid points, but you've arrived too late. The army, the police, the Committee of Public Safety, the Committee of Public Security, the National Convention, and the Jacobin Club all bow to him, and they're all scared of him. Many legislators don't even dare sleep in their homes at night anymore… His power now is unshakable."
"No, General Carnot, I see it differently," Fouché responded. He had walked to Carnot's place, analyzing the situation thoroughly during the journey, trying to find a crack in the dark storm clouds. Now his task was to point out this gap for others to see and encourage them to work together to let some sunlight through.
"You said that many parliamentarians in Paris, many influential figures, dare not sleep in their own beds at night. They fear that when they wake up in the morning, their first sight will be an arrest warrant bearing the crimson stamp of the Committee of Public Safety or the Committee of Public Security. Fear may bring compliance, but it also breeds hatred!"
Fouché paused, gazing at Carnot, before adding, "But, General Carnot, you're a scientist. You're familiar with Sir Isaac Newton's three laws. Every action has an equal and opposite reaction. Fear is a force, and it has its own reaction!"
Carnot asked, "So where is this reaction?"
"Earlier, you mentioned that many legislators and influential people in Paris are afraid to sleep at home and opt to find other places. They fear that if they sleep in their own beds, they might wake up to a warrant from the Committee of Public Safety or the Committee of Public Security. Fear brings compliance, but it also breeds hatred."
Fouché took a deep breath and continued, "Now, if a person lives for months, or even longer, in endless fear, depriving them of sleep, weakening their spirits, crushing their will, making them feel like lifeless zombies, wouldn't that person harbor hatred? Would you forgive them? Those who dare not sleep in their beds every day, wouldn't they loathe Robespierre?"
Fouché stopped and stared at Carnot. After a moment, he said, "Furthermore, Robespierre, is he really that powerful? If his allies were still with him, then yes, he would be formidable. But he executed Danton—I know you had your disagreements with General Danton's views— but it was Danton who secured support from the common people. A few months ago, if anyone had wanted to overthrow him, he would've called upon the common people, and they would have encircled the National Convention, forcing them to submit. But now, the common people have suffered because of some issues, and he couldn't resolve them. Now, the common people merely grumble, and he, out of incompetence, resorts to handling them the same way he dealt with Danton. Now, the common people don't see him as a traitor; they don't want to shed blood for him anymore. If Danton were still here, as his friend, he could pacify the National Convention and shift all the hatred onto Danton and the common people. But… he crushed the hopes of many others with his own hands. Robespierre is now a giant with clay feet, and if we unite to oppose him, he has no extraordinary power. If we can make everyone aware of their shared resentment towards him, his end is near!"
"But how will you make everyone aware?" Carnot asked. "If you attempt to address the Convention directly, it won't end well. You must provide me with evidence that you can indeed achieve this."
"General," Fouché said, looking into Carnot's eyes, "I have been tasked with returning to Paris to report to the Committee of Public Safety. In a few days, the Jacobin Club will hold its new presidential election, traditionally an anonymous vote. If you can assist me in delaying my report to the Committee until after the Jacobin Club's election, I will be able to provide you with evidence."
"Very well, I look forward to your proof," Carnot agreed.
Fouché knew that he had accomplished his mission at Carnot's residence that night and took his leave. As he departed, Carnot unexpectedly warned, "Citizen Fouché, you'd do well to change your sleeping location every day."
Carnot cited some technical reasons to delay Fouché's report.
Robespierre did not object to this. Perhaps in his view, it was just a minor matter. Robespierre had always held Fouché, a morally bankrupt chameleon, in low regard. He couldn't see, or chose to ignore, Fouché's qualities. As a result, in Robespierre's eyes, Fouché was nothing more than a inconsequential figure. The reports of Fouché's recent mysterious activities did not raise much suspicion.
However, Fouché wasn't planning to flee, and he had never considered it. Fouché continued to change his residence, alter his appearance, and impersonate various roles, such as a laborer, a merchant, an elderly man, or a woman. He eluded the spies from the Committee of Public Security, one by one, and met with members of the Jacobin Club. He persuaded them to vote for him in the presidential election.
"Votes are anonymous; nobody knows who cast them. Robespierre's anger and oppression may be directed at me, but you can use this to gauge how many share your sentiments. Isn't it worth a try?"
Many people found Fouché's words compelling and inspiring.
A few days later, following the regulations, the Jacobin Club held its presidential election. Robespierre was personally present and was shocked to see Fouché's participation. At this point, Fouché had not been apprehended and was a legitimate member of the Jacobin Club.
Voting commenced, with members writing their choices on ballots and placing them in a box—a system created and perfected by Robespierre and Saint-Just.
After all members had cast their votes, one member lifted the ballot box and shook it vigorously to mix the ballots. Then, in full view of everyone, the box was opened, and the counting began.
"Joseph Fouché."
"Joseph Fouché."
"Joseph Fouché."
After reciting a dozen "Joseph Fouché" votes in a row, they finally found one "Maximilien Robespierre."
Everyone was both startled and excited, exchanging glances. Robespierre, on the other hand, had a grim expression. It was the first time he realized he had underestimated Fouché, the ever-changing chameleon, the snake with a forked tongue. For the first time, he felt a shiver of fear and apprehension as he recognized that his foundation had been hollowed out.
The final results of the vote were announced: Fouché had an overwhelming victory over Robespierre, becoming the new president of the Jacobin Club. Not a single vote was cast in favor of Robespierre!
If even the Jacobin Club, seen as the heart of Robespierre's support, had so many dissidents within, how could he continue to dominate everything?
Following this night's vote, Carnot, who had been silent for a long time in the Committee of Public Safety, suddenly became vocal again. He openly opposed some of Robespierre's policies, beginning with his military decisions and eventually extending to numerous political measures.
With Carnot leading the charge, those who had previously unquestioningly followed Robespierre suddenly started forming their own opinions. Several of Robespierre's proposals were consistently voted down. In the Committee of Public Safety, only Saint-Just and Couthon remained firmly in Robespierre's camp, but their numbers were insufficient to push through any resolutions.
Robespierre seemed to have lost significant control over the entire situation.
The night's victory for Fouché was indeed astonishing. After seeing the evidence he had presented, Carnot's silent Committee of Public Safety suddenly became emboldened. They began openly challenging Robespierre's policies, starting with military matters and later expanding to his political decisions.
If even in the heart of Robespierre's domain, the Jacobin Club, there were so many who secretly disapproved of him, how could Robespierre continue to maintain his absolute control? After this night's vote, a deep fissure had formed between Robespierre and the Jacobin Club—a chasm of mutual distrust. This was the proof Fouché had given to Carnot.