Abstract
Whether they are based on historical fact or imagined characters, most narratives that attempt to deal with the socio-political complexities and moral dilemmas of the German Occupation of France in the Second World War draw attention to the traitor, sometimes perceived as an exemplary or caricatural figure of otherness: morally and physically repellent and beyond redemption (witness some portraits of Laval). To their adversaries and victims, individuals who betray family, friends or larger social groups by shifting their allegiance to enemy forces may embody a whole array of negative qualities (duplicity, venality, opportunism, cowardice, obduracy, etc.). More dispassionate observers and commentators soon realise, however, that condemning or even identifying traitors is rather more problematic, when enemies and allies change positions for tactical, strategic or ideological reasons as the war develops. Thus, depending on the standpoint adopted, not just the Germans and their acolytes, but also the British, the communists, Gaullist dissidents, the Vichy government, the Jews and resistance terrorists may all be denounced as enemies by some significant group of French people in the course of the Occupation. Whereas exposing, confronting and chastising traitors is often an integral dramatic and proselytising element in early pro-resistance narratives, unsurprisingly novels and memoirs less hostile to collaboration adopt a more relativistic posture towards authority and allegiance. Relatively few fictional or autobiographical works explore the motivation and behaviour of traitors in much depth or with much sympathy. This essay discusses the representation, function and historical significance of the traitor, drawing on the work of a small sample of writers who have offered a more nuanced portrait of this figure.