SINCE FIRST I BEGAN TO THINK ABOUT THE SUBJECT OF WHAT I called ‘pure politics’ twenty years ago, it has, sad to say, become more immediate. This is because of something I emphasized at the time: the effectiveness of a dedicated group of activists. Although few in number, the group's intensity of will gives it a formidable strength. It is like a projectile which can easily penetrate the soft body of society. It is the generator of the unforeseen, and ushers drama on to the political stage.

In my book De la Souveraineté (1955), I contrasted two pictures familiar to us since childhood: Bonaparte on the bridge at Arcola and Saint Louis under the oak tree at Vincennes. The first is standing erect, calling on his men to charge; the other is seated, serene, welcoming the various plaintiffs who press towards him and sending them away content. On one side of the diptych we see a leader who exalts, and on the other side an umpire who corrects and conciliates – an agent of momentum and an agent of equilibrium. Bonaparte points to a direction and the narrowness of the bridge is a symbol of the one-way narrow track, the precise intention. In contrast, the oak tree is the centre of a circumference, from every point of which the plaintiffs or suitors could approach, so that the king's attention was called from all sides: he needed the eyes of Argus.