This is an image of unimaginable power
“The rarest and most expensive wigs were white. As a result, people put white powder on their wigs in order to make them look as white as possible. People also used white powder on their hair. It intensified the blondeness of very fair hair but made darker hair look grey, the shade depending on the natural hair colour.”
THIS IS WHAT I’VE BEEN SAYING FOR YEARS
No, Olympe de Gouges Was Not Executed for Being a Feminist
As @mathildeaquisexta and @robespapier already explained so well in this post, let’s be clear once and for all: Olympe de Gouges was not executed because she was a feminist, nor for any misogynistic reason.
She was executed under suspicion of modérantisme—a political stance that did not necessarily imply opposition to executions or support for clemency—and more crucially, under accusations of counter-revolutionary activity. In her writings, she advocated either a return to constitutional monarchy or the establishment of a federal republic. Given the intense internal and external civil war at the time, such views were considered dangerously destabilizing. The Montagnards, under mounting pressure, resorted to increasingly harsh measures—something that does not excuse their actions, many of which were indefensible, but places them in a broader revolutionary context.
Some sources—though I’ve yet to locate them again, so this should be taken cautiously—even suggest that she may have called for Robespierre’s death. In any case, she was far from the saintly figure some portray her as.
Did Olympe de Gouges deserve to die? Absolutely not.
Was her execution condemnable, especially from a human standpoint? Yes.
But from a legal perspective—however flawed the laws may have been—her writings were seen as criminal and therefore her trial was not, strictly speaking, unlawful.Her feminism itself was full of contradictions. She opposed revolutionary women taking up arms, for instance. An interesting detail: historian Mathilde Larrère pointed out in a video that when de Gouges rewrote Article 12 of the Declaration of the Rights of Man and Citizen(La Déclaration des droits de l'homme et du citoyen) for her Declaration of the Rights of Woman and the Female Citizen (Déclarations des droits de la femme et de la citoyenne), she significantly altered its meaning.
Here is the original Article 12:
“The security of the rights of man and citizen requires public military forces: these forces are therefore instituted for the benefit of all, and not for the personal use of those to whom they are entrusted.”Now Olympe’s version:
“The guarantee of the rights of woman and citizen requires a major utility; this guarantee must be instituted for the advantage of all and for the particular benefit of those to whom it is entrusted.”Where other revolutionary women were requesting weapons—and rightly so, given that they were at war—de Gouges stood firmly against it. At times, I can’t help but wonder if she wasn’t somewhat disconnected from the reality on the ground.
Yes, it’s necessary to condemn lynchings, murders, and other excesses of the Revolution. But we must also avoid the “black legend” narrative that demonizes figures like the Montagnards, the CSP of the year II, Hébertistes, or the Enragés, just as we must reject the “golden legend” that romanticizes the Revolution. Much of the Revolution’s progress was driven by violent struggle: the storming of the Bastille, the fall of the Tuileries (which finally removed Louis XVI—a serious threat to the nation and the revolution because of his betrayal), or even the uprisings of enslaved Black people in the colonies.
These were violent acts—but how else could centuries of brutal oppression be overthrown? Enslavers were never going to relinquish power simply because someone asked nicely. The system itself was inventive in its cruelty and designed to resist any path toward Black liberation.
And yet, Olympe de Gouges, despite being an abolitionist, condemned the Haitian revolt in 1792. In a striking and disturbing passage from her play L'Esclavage des Noirs ou l'Heureux Naufrage, she directly addresses the enslaved and says:
“It is to you, now, slaves, men of color, that I am going to speak; I may have undeniable rights to condemn your ferocity: cruel ones, by imitating the tyrants, you justify them. Most of your masters were humane and kind, and in your blind rage, you do not distinguish innocent victims from your persecutors.
Men were not born for chains, and yet you prove they are necessary. If overwhelming force is on your side, why unleash all the furies of your burning lands? Poison, iron, daggers, the invention of the most barbaric and atrocious tortures cost you nothing, they say. What cruelty! What inhumanity! Ah! How deeply you make those groan who sought to prepare, through tempered means, a gentler fate for you — a fate more worthy of envy than all those illusory advantages with which the authors of France’s and America’s calamities have misled you.
Tyranny will follow you, as crime clings to those perverse men. Nothing will ever bring harmony among you. Fear my prediction — you know whether it is founded on true and solid grounds. I speak my oracles based on reason and divine justice. I do not recant: I abhor your tyrants; your cruelties fill me with horror »
Frankly, this is appalling. To suggest that enslaved people—who had endured horrors that defy comprehension—were just as bad as their oppressors is a cruel and absurd false equivalence when we know all the horrors of the slavery system and even if there were deaths on the other side who were truly regrettable, it is clearly not comparable. And what “tyrants” is she referring to? At the time, there was no formal revolutionary government in place in Saint-Domingue. There was no “major force” on their side. At that point in time, slavery had not yet been abolished, and the arrival of Sonthonax — a proponent of the gradual abolition of slavery — marked a turning point. One of the key factors behind the push for abolition was the execution of Louis XVI, which led some white royalist planters to seriously consider turning Saint-Domingue over to the British. In this context, the text appears, in my view, somewhat disconnected from the historical and political realities of the time.
In short, this is a deeply misjudged and insulting passage. That said, she’s far from the only historical figure with contradictory views on slavery—Brissot and even Robespierre had their own problematic moments.
To her credit, de Gouges was lucid in other respects. She opposed the war that Brissot advocated, aligning instead—whether consciously or not—with Danton, Robespierre, and Billaud-Varenne, who foresaw the catastrophe it would bring. According to historian Antoine Resche, she supported constitutional monarchy but rejected the property-based voting system (suffrage censitaire).
Still, Olympe de Gouges was not widely known among revolutionary women of her time. Her Déclaration des droits de la femme et de la citoyenne (Declaration of the Rights of Woman and the Female Citizen) had limited impact. The true revolutionary womens "stars” were Théroigne de Méricourt, Pauline Léon, Claire Lacombe, Sophie de Grouchy, Louise Reine Audu, Manon Roland, Louise de Kéralio, Simone Evrard, Albertine Marat, the Ferning sisters, Rosalie Jullien, Sophie Momoro (as Goddess of Reason), Jeanne Odo, and perhaps Marguerite David ( of the group of Enragés).
In fact, it’s likely that de Gouges knew of these women, but not necessarily the other way around. Even after her execution, I’ve found almost no evidence of posthumous recognition during the revolutionary period.
From Year III to IV, women like Sylvie Audouin, Thérésia Tallien, Marie-Anne Babeuf, Sophie Lapierre, and possibly Élisabeth Le Bon (widow of Joseph Le Bon) gained more visibility — though Thérésia and Babeuf were probably more famous than Audouin or Lapierre. Still, Olympe remained largely absent from the collective memory ( at least to my knowledge). So she wasn’t completely unknown, but her importance wasn’t as great as some people would have us believe.
According to Mathilde Larrère, Olympe de Gouges only emerged from oblivion thanks to feminist Benoîte Groult, who revived her memory and her declaration. This was a fantastic move—it’s always good to recover lost revolutionary voices.
But ironically, her legacy has since been co-opted by people who hold a very dark view of the French Revolution, some even veering toward counter-revolutionary ideals—because, yes, de Gouges was a staunch monarchist. Even worse, some who now praise her aren’t feminists at all, but use her image dishonestly to discredit the Revolution as a whole.
And the tragic twist? The women who were famous during the Revolution—Louise-Reine Audu, the Ferning sisters, Sophie Momoro, Marguerite David, Jeanne Odo, Rosalie Jullien, Sylvie Audouin, Sophie Lapierre, Marie-Anne Babeuf, Elisabeth Le Bon, Louise de Kéralio—have largely disappeared from collective memory. Others have been demonized or reduced to caricatures: Pauline Léon, Claire Lacombe, Simone Evrard, Albertine Marat.
Once again, my point is not to demonize Olympe de Gouges, but to highlight the problem of turning her into the only legitimate feminist voice of the French Revolution, while erasing or vilifying all others just because they held different political views.
If people genuinely want to honor Olympe de Gouges, they should portray her in full:
- Her strengths—her opposition to property-based voting, her fight for the rights of children born out of wedlock, her courage in speaking out, her revolutionary spirit, her willingness to denounce Louis XVI’s betrayal despite her monarchist leanings.
- And her flaws—her rejection of women bearing arms, her naivety about nonviolent change, her harsh and misguided condemnation of enslaved people fighting for their freedom.
She was sincere in her convictions, passionate about justice, and undoubtedly brave. But she was also human, with contradictions and limits like any of us.
One day, I hope to see a real film that portrays all the women of the French Revolution—regardless of their political alignment—without distortion or demonization.
“I thought that I loved you months ago, but since my separation from you, I feel that I love you a thousandfold more. Each day since I knew you, I have adored you yet more and more.”
— Napoleon to Joséphine
I’m literally presenting a paper on the Marquis de Sade at a conference in like, a week. And this is the week a bunch of freaks want to pretend I’ve never read anything on Sade? Like. I come here to shitpost and suddenly “oh you have a criticism of the Marquis de Sade? Don’t you know Robespierre existed?”
I do know Robespierre existed. I don’t see what he has to do with this conversation though.
At the conference I should totally pause every three seconds of my discussion of the political implications of the 120 Days of Sodom to look my audience in the eye and go “but we need to remember, Napoleon and Saint Just also exist”
I’m sure that’ll go over well
I don’t get it. Obviously he’s the subject of the paper. Why include other figures at the time?
Yes. But there’s some weirdo who keeps going through my (and others) blog and shitposts on Sade and dropping things like “but Robespierre/Napoleon did so much worse!”
And like. Separate conversation? I’m talking about the Marquis de Sade rn.
Hey, academics who might be checking out my blog: I am a historian too.
Except I’m disabled, and it’s much harder for me to produce articles fast from the knowledge I gather and share freely here for everyone’s public education. That’s not an invitation to just take my research and publish it in your name. Find a way to contact me. This is incredibly disrespectful.
If I find out one of you stole my research (which is also @aedislumen’s) on the CSP’s military bureau, you’re going to get a strongly worded email.
Since I was mentioned I’d like to add a few obvious words.
It doesn’t take a genius to understand that the best and most efficient way to further develop a research topic is through collaborative effort for reasons that are so trivial that I’d feel incredibly stupid if I listed them all right now.
Among all the cutesy art and funny memes one can find on the historical side of Tumblr, there are some people who put time and effort to make certain topics accessible to everyone through transcriptions, translations and original posts, which sometimes can be truly considered essays or articles for how well they are written and researched.
All of this for free.
“But nobody asked you to do so!”
Yes, nobody has asked us anything, but have you ever heard of something called passion? Or being so much into something that you’d love more and more to know about it? Yeah, that’s precisely what drives us.
We don’t care about money - otherwise we won’t be here lol -, or being thanked, but it would be nice to be credited, at least. There’s no official copyright rule for stuff posted on Tumblr except the implicit one of common sense and decency. As much as somebody wouldn’t steal an artwork and pass it as their own; so shouldn’t you with whatever you find here and deem it useful to your research.
And if you think that quoting materials found on social media would tarnish the seriousness of your supreme work, if a little mention would make you blush, then there’s no need to embarrass yourself more by using that source in the first place.
You wouldn’t even need to mention you found the information on tumblr or link it since - gasp - it’s soooo embarrassing. Most of us have names listed already, even if they’re nicknames or, you know, just ask our name? I’ve done it several times. Asked people what I could call them to mention them in a footnote. You just write “thanks to X for this insight” or “thanks to Y for suggesting this idea”. Our thesis advisers don’t usually need the shoutout coz 1) that’s what they’re for and 2) they’re thanked ALONG WITH OTHER PEOPLE in the foreword. But really it costs nothing to add in the footnote of an article: hey thanks to Z for that! It’s basic decency.
What a Mary Sue
“The Marquis de Sade had problematic opinions” and “the Terror was problematic” are not like. Mutually exclusive perspectives. Why do I have an army of weirdos acting like they are? What is going on?
The Terror was sexy and cool, what do you mean.
Yes but even if you disagree you can still go :/ over Sade.
I’m literally presenting a paper on the Marquis de Sade at a conference in like, a week. And this is the week a bunch of freaks want to pretend I’ve never read anything on Sade? Like. I come here to shitpost and suddenly “oh you have a criticism of the Marquis de Sade? Don’t you know Robespierre existed?”
I do know Robespierre existed. I don’t see what he has to do with this conversation though.
At the conference I should totally pause every three seconds of my discussion of the political implications of the 120 Days of Sodom to look my audience in the eye and go “but we need to remember, Napoleon and Saint Just also exist”
I’m sure that’ll go over well
I’m literally presenting a paper on the Marquis de Sade at a conference in like, a week. And this is the week a bunch of freaks want to pretend I’ve never read anything on Sade? Like. I come here to shitpost and suddenly “oh you have a criticism of the Marquis de Sade? Don’t you know Robespierre existed?”
I do know Robespierre existed. I don’t see what he has to do with this conversation though.
“The Marquis de Sade had problematic opinions” and “the Terror was problematic” are not like. Mutually exclusive perspectives. Why do I have an army of weirdos acting like they are? What is going on?