In Alesxis de Tocqueville´s Recollections, we’re told of a day i Juni 1848. We’re in a lovely apartment on the left bank, seventh arrondissement, at dinnertime. The Tocqueville family is reunited. Nevertheless, in the calm if the evening, the cannonade fired by the bourgeoisie against the rebellion of rioting workers resounds suddenly – distant noises from the right bank. The diners shiver, their faces darken. But a smile escapes a young waitress who serves their table and has just arrived from the Faubourg Saint Antoine. She´s immediately fired. Isn´t the true specter of communism perhaps there in that smile? The one that frightened the Tsar, the pope… and the Lord of Tocqueville? Isn´t a glimmer of joy there, making specter of liberation?