\chapter{Foreword}

\chapterauthor{Gilles PERRAULT}

Blessed capitalism! It announces nothing and makes no promises. No manifesto or twenty-point declaration programming the turnkey happiness.
It may crush you, gut you, enslave you, and torment you; however, does he disappoint you? 
You have the right to be unhappy but not not disappointed, because disappointment presupposes a betrayed commitment.
Those who announce a more just, shining future expose themselves to the accusation of deception when the attempt sinks into an awful cacophony.
Capitalism, on the other hand, wisely conducts with the present. It is. The future? It willingly abandons it to dreamers, ideologues, and ecologists. 
And so its crimes are almost perfect. No written record establishes premeditation. 
For the Terror of 1793, it is easy for those who do not like revolutions to imagine its culprits: the Enlightenment and the unreasonable will to order society according to reasoning reason.
For communism, libraries crumble under the weight of the incriminating works.  Not so for capitalism. It is not to it that we can reproach manufacturing misfortune by pretending to bring happiness. 
It agrees to be judged only on this which has always motivated it: the search for maximal profit in minimal time. The others are interested in man; It only concerns itself with goods.
Have we ever seen happy or unhappy goods? The only worthwhile reviews are balance sheets. To speak about crimes is irrelevant. Let us talk about natural disasters. You are told enough:
capitalism is the natural state of humanity. Humanity is in capitalism like a fish in the air. It takes the futile arrogance of ideologues to want to change the order of things, with the sad cyclical consequences that we know: revolution, repression, disappointment, contrition. 
This is the true original sin of man: that perpetual agitation that leads him to shake the yoke, the lyrical illusion of a future freed from exploitation, the claim to change the natural order.
Don't move: capitalism moves for you. But hey, just as nature has its disasters, so too does capitalism. Would you look for those responsible for an earthquake, a tidal wave? Furthermore, crime involves criminals. 
For communism, the anthropometrics cards are easy to establish: two bearded guys, a goatee, some four-eyes, a moustached man, one that crosses the Yangtze River by swimming, a cigar lover, etc.
We can hate these faces. They incarnate. When it comes to capitalism, there are only indexes: Dow Jones, CAC 40, Nikkei, etc. Just try to hate an index. 
The Evil Empire still has a geographical area, capitals. It is trackable.  Capitalism is everywhere and nowhere. To whom should summonses be sent before a possible Nuremberg tribunal?

Capitalism? Cheesy archaism! Get up to date and use the right word: liberalism. The \emph{Littré} defines \enquote{liberal} as \enquote{that which is worthy of a free man}. 
Doesn't that sound good? And \emph{The Petit Robert} gives us a convincing list of antonyms: \enquote{stingy, autocrat, dictatorial, dirigiste, fascist, totalitarian}. 
You may have found excuses to define yourself as anti-capitalist, but admit that it would take vice to proclaim yourself anti-liberal.

So, what is this black book of capitalism all about? Can't you see the madness in this project's excesses?
The worst mass murderer in history, we grant you, but an assassin without a face or genetic code and who has been operating with impunity since centuries on five continents… 
We wish you a lot of fun. And what's the point? Haven't you heard the final gong announcing at the same time the end of the match and the end of history? It won. 
It monopolizes in its robust mafia-like version the remains of its enemies. Which credible opponent on the horizon?

Which opponent? The immense people of the civil parties to the trial. The dead and the living. The innumerable crowd of those who were deported from Africa to the Americas, chopped in the trenches of a foolish war, grilled alive by napalm, tortured to death in the jails of capitalism's watchdogs, shot at the Federated Wall, shot at Fourmies, shot at Setif, massacred by hundreds of thousands in Indonesia, almost eradicated like the American Indians,  massively murdered in China to ensure the free circulation of opium…
Of all these, the hands of the living have received the torch of revolt of the man whose dignity have been denied. Soon inert hands of those children of the Third World whom malnutrition, every day, kills by tens of thousands, emaciated hands of the peoples condemned to repay the interest on a debt whose capital their puppet leaders have stolen, trembling hands of the excluded ever more numerous to camp on the margins of opulence.

Hands tragically weak, and disunited for now. But they cannot but join one day. And on that day, the torch that they carry will set the world ablaze.

\rauthor{Gilles Perrault}

