Most people who knew Henri would agree that his political activity and his personal life were closely intertwined, if not indistinguishable. Échanges et Mouvement was in fact Henri, although the reverse was not true. Of those who have written apt, penetrating tributes since his death, most focus on his political life. As a longtime friend, I propose to turn that focus around.
Our paths first crossed in 1969, at an international meeting organized by Informations et Correspondances Ouvrières or ICO, although neither of us later remembered running across the other there. Shortly after he left ICO and launched Échanges with three comrades in 1975. I signed up as a subscriber. Much later, in the early aughts, when I was going through a difficult period, I discovered, hidden from view under an austere veneer, his great kindness and generosity, the same simple solidarity that others have also recalled with gratitude.
Échanges was, in those pre-Internet times, one of the few sources of information about struggles all over the world, often written or sent in by workers. At least initially, it was a genuine network of exchange and a sounding board for often differing, even conflicting analyses.
That said, I was never tempted to join Échanges, a fact largely ignored by Henri, who would give me his texts for comment and then, far too often, take no account of what I had to say. My refusal was not based on deep-seated political differences; I definitely shared the review’s anti-Leninist, anti-union, internationalist stance. Its platform consisted of very broad principles with which I mostly agreed. My problem was with the group behind the review — four people who, it seemed to me, played four different roles and never engaged in real discussion among themselves, even though the review frequently published analytical or theoretical texts. All decisions ultimately lay with Henri.
Although staunchly anti-party, he was undeniably Échanges’ de facto leader, as he had been, I imagine, in ICO or at the major insurance company where he worked — and was a recognized troublemaker! He was neither a domineering figure nor a particularly charismatic speaker. I think his leadership sprang from his ability to see the larger picture and to dig deeper for singular answers. I should add, enviously, that he had a phenomenal memory. He was interested in people, always curious to hear about their work or what they were doing and thinking, and good at finding the words to make his own thinking accessible. Who but Henri could have given a workshop entitled “the history of class struggle since the beginning” (possibly starting with hunter-gatherers!) that was so vibrant he repeated it, by popular demand, on several occasions?
He had incredible physical stamina, hiking halfway across France at age 80 and, older still, maintaining a thriving garden. He wrote delightful vignettes about bygone professions from his childhood in rural Rozay — the lamplighter, the smithy, the letter carrier and others — not to mention poetry and a somewhat meandering autobiography. He penned and illustrated stories for his grandkids, and always gave me copies for mine! We regularly disagreed, and I sometimes attempted to argue with him. Still, whatever our differences and however distant we may have been politically, Henri injected life into my knowledge of the past, from council communism and Socialisme ou Barberie (until he split over the Algerian war) to ICO and May 68. Most of all, he was a precious friend.