322 Derrida 1963–1983
- Communism in a nutshell: it starts in the mists of philosophy
and ends in a sordid Grand Guignol episode.’ Like the Minister
of Justice, Alain Peyrefi tte, an alumnus of the ENS, they wanted
Althusser to be put on trial.
During these initial days, ‘crushed by emotion, [.. .] Jacques
Derrida, loyalest of the loyal, refused to make any comment’.
More than ever, he mistrusted the press. ‘Too upsetting’ were the
only words he uttered to the journalist from Le Monde.^41 This did
not stop him from taking action, quickly and eff ectively. On 18
November, he wrote a letter on headed ENS notepaper, co-signed
by several colleagues. Louis Althusser was at present not fi t to
choose a lawyer, they explained. ‘We thus feel that it is our duty to
ensure, however provisionally, that he is defended, and this is why
we, who constitute his family of friends, are asking you to be Louis
Althusser’s lawyer.’^42
The expression ‘family of friends’ was a perfectly accurate
description. Over the weeks following the tragedy, Derrida, Debray,
Balibar, and Lecourt spared no eff ort. As soon as they were given
permission, they went to see Althusser in the closed wing of Sainte-
Anne, while doing their best to fi nd a solution to the various
problems that arose. Derrida took as much as possible onto himself,
but he was hit hard. Jos Joliet was alarmed to see him ‘so anguished,
so wounded’, and off ered to help in whatever way he could.43*
Judicially speaking, the matter was delicate. The examining mag-
istrate had concluded that there was no ground for prosecution,
since psychiatric disorders had deprived Althusser of discernment
and any control over his actions at the time of the event; this con-
demned Althusser to indefi nite psychiatric internment, but it meant
he would avoid interrogation and trial.^44 Although this decision,
reached on 23 January 1981, corresponded precisely to the situation,
it rekindled the polemics on the support and the special favours the
philosopher might have been able to draw on. The following day,
the procureur de la République – France’s equivalent of the Attorney
- Even before the Althusser aff air, it appears that Derrida was suff ering from a
renewed bout of anxiety. The tenth anniversary of his father’s death surely played
a part in this. In a letter to Philippe Lacoue-Labarthe, he mentioned the photos he
had been willingly allowing people to take of him, contrary to his habits, over the
last few weeks, ‘as if [he] were going to die’. His fi rst visit to Morocco had gone very
badly, in spite of the excellent welcome he had received: ‘I really thought I was going
to die on the day I arrived in Morocco. [.. .] I managed to come back to something
or other, life, or a kind of apparent normality, to give four papers, to walk along the
Ocean, even to dance, alone, in front of musicians from a sect invited by my friend
Khatibi, in my honour, etc. And now I’m trying to set off again, but it’s touch and
go’ (letter from Derrida to Philippe Lacoue-Labarthe, n.d., probably October 1980).
As far as Marguerite remembers, Derrida phoned Khatibi in the middle of the night,
before leaving his hotel and going to stay with him.