HOME | DD

Description
When your chauffeur is a socialist militant in the early twentieth century in England, and when you are yourself a Lady and a sympathiser of women's rights, you're likely to exchange interesting views. Especially after a revolution broke out in Russia.

The conversation had begun quite calmly and casually, but somewhere along the path, Branson's words had become quite enthusiastic:

"But you do know as well as I do that this whole system of classes is doomed to extinction, that a new era is brewing. Signs of that have already happened elsewhere in the world, they have shaken certainties. You can't believe these changes will stop at the frontier of this country, nor that they won't reach your world as well!"

He stopped the car and opened the door for Lady Sybil to get out.

"I know that very well, and believe me, I wish for those changes to happen" she answered. "I do have eyes to see, and a mind to understand what I see. I am not trying to deny it, but I'm afraid you might be too radical. Believe me, I respect your passion, and even admire it, but… but not the deeds it could lead you to commit."

"I'm not a die-hard extremist" assured Branson while closing the door, "and I'm certainly not wishing for violence, but I'm also very aware that the world we're living in is absolutely not ideal, or we wouldn't need to make it change. But I have finally realised, as much as I hate this idea, that it's only in an ideal world that one can achieve a result only with good intentions and indignant speeches. Because those who are now in a position of strength, those who are holding the reins won't relinquish their power, privileges and positions that easily. And they won't hesitate to use force themselves against those who dare question any bit of their power."

"Of course I know, but–"

"What do you think?" he interrupted her. "That they will renounce it just because we ask politely? That they'll give us willingly what we demand? That's already been tried, and you know as well as I do how it was met, wherever in the world. Any radical change is a revolution, and revolutions don't succeed by dint of gentleness and smoothness... Believe me, I truly deplore it, but so it is."

"Don't make me sound naive, which you know as well as I do that I'm certainly not" Sybil replied. "But I'm worrying both for you and for the consequences that a thoughtless deed could have for the cause you want to defend."

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"That a just cause needs intelligent people who are as wise and thoughtful as determined, a lot more than hawkish warmongers or arsonists; because through them the opposite camp could far too easily make all militants look like dangerous and unbalanced extremists and terrorists." She paused and looked at him sternly in the eyes. "Revolutions can't be made against public opinion" she went on, "and public opinion doesn't like raving lunatics; they discredit their own cause rather than make it progress; at the first reckless deed, your opponents will be far too happy to make you look as such to the eyes of the public, believe me. The public doesn't like violence, it frightens it, and fright of what's new tends to make people rather… unadventurous as regards changes."

"Still" said Branson, "I find it hard to believe that your view is to stay here arms crossed, doing nothing but wait and hope… Not you…"

"And you are right; you know me too well" she added in a sigh. "But as I said, the more you have the public opinion by your side, the less you will need weapons… And it's not through violence that one gains the public's support to a new idea."

"…but through reasoning and arguments, I can see where you're going with this…" completed Branson.

"Indeed" she confirmed. "And I know you can be quite eloquent. You'd better use that skill to help your cause."

He said nothing, seemingly pondering her words.

She suddenly seemed hesitant, and stuttered a little when she asked him:

"Just… just promise me not to do anything foolish… please. That you would come to me and tell me about what you intend to do first." She paused to look at him again with this stern and serious look of hers.

Then she continued: "Please. That's all I'm asking for…"

He still remained silent, but he briefly looked away slightly pursing his lips, before setting his eyes on her again. But did not answer.

"I know you're a skilled man, with a real way with words" she said with much less hesitation. "I know that things are changing, that the world will be different from what it was before the war. I know you are eager to not only help change the society, but also to help change things for Ireland. And I also know that if you eventually win out it could only be after a long run. You will have to show a lot of patience. Question is: can you do this?"

At that, he looked at her right in the eyes and replied:

"You're far better placed than anyone to know that the answer to this question is yes…"

Description
When your chauffeur is a socialist militant in the early twentieth century in England, and when you are yourself a Lady and a sympathiser of women's rights, you're likely to exchange interesting views. Especially after a revolution broke out in Russia.

The conversation had begun quite calmly and casually, but somewhere along the path, Branson's words had become quite enthusiastic:

"But you do know as well as I do that this whole system of classes is doomed to extinction, that a new era is brewing. Signs of that have already happened elsewhere in the world, they have shaken certainties. You can't believe these changes will stop at the frontier of this country, nor that they won't reach your world as well!"

He stopped the car and opened the door for Lady Sybil to get out.

"I know that very well, and believe me, I wish for those changes to happen" she answered. "I do have eyes to see, and a mind to understand what I see. I am not trying to deny it, but I'm afraid you might be too radical. Believe me, I respect your passion, and even admire it, but… but not the deeds it could lead you to commit."

"I'm not a die-hard extremist" assured Branson while closing the door, "and I'm certainly not wishing for violence, but I'm also very aware that the world we're living in is absolutely not ideal, or we wouldn't need to make it change. But I have finally realised, as much as I hate this idea, that it's only in an ideal world that one can achieve a result only with good intentions and indignant speeches. Because those who are now in a position of strength, those who are holding the reins won't relinquish their power, privileges and positions that easily. And they won't hesitate to use force themselves against those who dare question any bit of their power."

"Of course I know, but–"

"What do you think?" he interrupted her. "That they will renounce it just because we ask politely? That they'll give us willingly what we demand? That's already been tried, and you know as well as I do how it was met, wherever in the world. Any radical change is a revolution, and revolutions don't succeed by dint of gentleness and smoothness... Believe me, I truly deplore it, but so it is."

"Don't make me sound naive, which you know as well as I do that I'm certainly not" Sybil replied. "But I'm worrying both for you and for the consequences that a thoughtless deed could have for the cause you want to defend."

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"That a just cause needs intelligent people who are as wise and thoughtful as determined, a lot more than hawkish warmongers or arsonists; because through them the opposite camp could far too easily make all militants look like dangerous and unbalanced extremists and terrorists." She paused and looked at him sternly in the eyes. "Revolutions can't be made against public opinion" she went on, "and public opinion doesn't like raving lunatics; they discredit their own cause rather than make it progress; at the first reckless deed, your opponents will be far too happy to make you look as such to the eyes of the public, believe me. The public doesn't like violence, it frightens it, and fright of what's new tends to make people rather… unadventurous as regards changes."

"Still" said Branson, "I find it hard to believe that your view is to stay here arms crossed, doing nothing but wait and hope… Not you…"

"And you are right; you know me too well" she added in a sigh. "But as I said, the more you have the public opinion by your side, the less you will need weapons… And it's not through violence that one gains the public's support to a new idea."

"…but through reasoning and arguments, I can see where you're going with this…" completed Branson.

"Indeed" she confirmed. "And I know you can be quite eloquent. You'd better use that skill to help your cause."

He said nothing, seemingly pondering her words.

She suddenly seemed hesitant, and stuttered a little when she asked him:

"Just… just promise me not to do anything foolish… please. That you would come to me and tell me about what you intend to do first." She paused to look at him again with this stern and serious look of hers.

Then she continued: "Please. That's all I'm asking for…"

He still remained silent, but he briefly looked away slightly pursing his lips, before setting his eyes on her again. But did not answer.

"I know you're a skilled man, with a real way with words" she said with much less hesitation. "I know that things are changing, that the world will be different from what it was before the war. I know you are eager to not only help change the society, but also to help change things for Ireland. And I also know that if you eventually win out it could only be after a long run. You will have to show a lot of patience. Question is: can you do this?"

At that, he looked at her right in the eyes and replied:

"You're far better placed than anyone to know that the answer to this question is yes…"