Candles burn bright long into the night after Paris march 

Long after the last of the marchers left, people came, silent as mourners, to relight the candles flickering on the pedestal of liberty on the Place de la République.

The light of freedom, fought for so diligently over centuries by the citizens of France, would not be threatened; freedom of speech would be protected.

Others reshaped the bundles of pencils and pens adopted by the citizens of France as their weapon of defiance against the tragic, senseless deaths in their midst a few days previously.

They spelled out the slogan “Je suis Charlie” amid the flowers, mostly roses.

In many ways it was a more poignant, stronger statement than the prime ministers linking arms as they led the massive demonstration. Pencils, flowers, and candles were a spontaneous response by the citizens to the tragic slaughter.

Pencils were in plentiful supply among the million or so marchers who earlier in the day converged on Place de la République, waiting hours in line to join the official demonstration.

Others formed their own marches, converging on the Bastile — yet another symbol of French resistance — almost all proclaiming that they too were Charlie.

“Je suis Charlie”

An elderly man explained that, today, his limping golden labrador was not Bruno, but Charlie. “It’s important that we show solidarity,” he said.

In a show of unity and celebration of liberty, many declared they were Muslim, Jewish, Catholic, atheist, in this country where the census never asks your religion, assuming your identity is French.

That is how Ahmed and Isaac saw it, too. Their poster explained that one was Jewish, the other Muslim.

“They should all be like us — friends,” they said. They grew up together and were always friends. Education was the answer to the problems, they believed. “People should understand one another.”

They joked about the stereotypes. Isaac “sells things — naturally, he’s Jewish”, says Ahmed.

The massive armed presence of thousands of police officers, many drafted in from across the country, was almost invisible during the march; except if you looked up — snipers atop buildings on the route where the prime ministers walked.

They were applauded by the crowds that noticed them — and received a roar of ‘merci’ back from the ‘flic’ on the roof.

Meanwhile, around the various alters to liberty, to Charlie, to equality, and to fraternity, the struggle continued to keep the little candles alight.

Late into the night, they continued to flicker, some safely in jam jars, others protected by the petals, always with someone on hand to rekindle the flame.