The Revolutionary Outlives Himself
A murder. I say, it's so abstract.
(Jean-Paul Sartre, Dirty Hands)
In an alternate historical timeline, in which Sartre had been an American citizen, a people who are (as everyone knows) the most litigious people on the planet, he might have stated his philosophy a little more succinctly had he but read any law school textbook. College textbooks are exchanged after use (and still costly when purchased "used") but eventually they find their way into the bargain bin, where they may be read purely for interest, and discarded after reading without concern for their incidental value.
But, then, his philosophy would have been less interesting reading. Sartre would have been a more pragmatic thinker had he been concerned at all with the law. Ethics? yes. Due process? -no. Sartre was an idea man. The argument over the reality of ideas is a moot point when a court of law inquires into the motive behind a criminal act. As a rule, actus reus plus mens rea equals conviction. That a deed was done leading to criminal charges is always a given at court, while the motive behind the accused's deed determines guilt or innocence.
Perhaps his unjust imprisonment by the Nazis made him disdainful of law. More the shame for it was unjust. We regret the loss of a passionate pleader for justice as a result. Philosophically, the idea without an act is nothing, whilst deed without ideal is criminal (or some degree of criminal). Accusations are often leveled at witnesses to a crime precisely for doing nothing. Criminal complicity turns on what the bystander may have known beforehand, that is, the bystander's mens rea.
Conviction (or acquittal) depends on what the accused's motive actually was. If the deed was committed out of self-interest it may result in conviction -despite the "rights" of the accused. If, on the other hand, the deed was done in the interest of preventing a crime—without self-interest—it may result in acquittal, despite certainty over the accused having committed the deed.
To be clear, if a gunman is shot dead while wielding a gun, the shooter of the first gunman may still be acquitted of homicide on grounds of crime prevention! The court's reason being that the defender had the interests of society in mind. That was the defender's motive. If, instead, the shooter invokes self-defense in his own defense, he may be convicted and imprisoned for homicide. It puts the self in perspective, philosophically.
In itself, for itself, and for others. Motive is the only difference. The criminal court considers circumstantial evidence as relevant, but incomplete without determining motive, or mens rea. It must elicit motive from the accused for complete proof of guilt. It is in the accused's interest to reveal his motive if, indeed, he is innocent. And this, in turn, goes to the matter of not being what one seems.
Thus, a brief summary of the bedrock issue of criminal trial. Every good citizen has regard for the law and his rights. What this has to do with Sartre, and indeed, with the mainstream philosophy of Western Civilization, is deducing responsibility for actions. When Sartre, specifically, defends the revolutionary for violence and destruction, his defense is predicated on the revolutionary's idealism. Sartre defends his motive as "for others," that is, society.
The revolutionary differs from the anarchist (and the common criminal) in having a worthy motive. Opinion may differ about the worthiness of the revolutionary's motive. What is important is that the revolutionary has a motive. Idealism (mens rea) is a socially acceptable motive. Self-interest is not. Hunger, for example, is not, neither the violent offender's hunger, nor that of an entire class of people.
Overturning an unjust government (revolution) is a worthy motive. We agree, do we not, that the anarchist has no motive? Like a common criminal, the anarchist commits crimes at random, without concern for others, indeed, without even so much as valid self-interest. The criminal seeks to satisfy a need, a necessity. The anarchist brazenly acts without purpose. They are alike, and neither is a legitimate motive.
It's time to take a step back. Contrasting revolutionary against anarchist is no defense strategy. It is a categorical distinction, of the sort philosophy makes with it's fallacious arguments, much as a defense lawyer pleads his client's case by introducing the accused's social and economic disadvantage, for instance, and other such special pleading, all of which is circumstantial, irrelevant.
The determined defense attorney looks for any defect in the prosecution's argument, much as Socrates twisted the oral testimony of his witnesses, to the chagrin of every reputable philosopher since. The resolute revolutionary needs no defense attorney. Revolution is implementation of the state—including its laws—by any means necessary.
It is not anarchy. It remains a State, with laws, a state-in-transition, transitioning from one state to another. The Code of law may change as a result. Some laws are forever. The only alternative to the revolutionary state-of-being (when required) is nothingness. As for the revolutionary, only failure is not an option. He must forever acquit himself in word and deed.