Arrival Date: Saturday 1st December 2018
“5 metres! …4 metres!…3 metres!”
I watched the little boat with the two Gilets Jaunes protesters on board chug towards my ferry. The English captain was barking out distances over the speaker system. I presume that 3 metres is the closest a little boat is allowed to get to a big boat before they’re in breach of some international maritime law. At the 3 metre call, the boat suddenly turned and went on its merry way, unblocking the ferry terminal at last so we could dock. They delayed our docking by 30 minutes. I overheard one English woman snap to her husband “Why did you choose a day when the French were protesting?”
Three days earlier I had left New Zealand, after saving up for three months following my return from my world trip. Many emotional good-byes to my family and friends, including my 19 year old daughter.
Four flights and a boat to get here. Wellington-Auckland (1 hour), Auckland – Los Angeles (11 hours), Los Angeles – London (12 hours), London – Jersey (1 hour), and now Jersey to Saint Malo by ferry (1.5 hours). I had stayed a night in Los Angeles and another night in Jersey. After landing in Heathrow bleary-eyed, I ordered a small cup of English Breakfast tea. The waitress took one look at me and brought out an enormous mug of Yorkshire tea.
I’d noticed the little boat as we made our way from Jersey in the Channel Islands to Saint Malo, on the north-west coast of France in Brittany (Bretagne). It was darting in and out beside the enormous ferry. There had been some warning that, as it was a Saturday, the Gilets Jaunes were likely to be out in full force. Now here they were giving me my own special welcome to France.
I was picked up and driven to my new home through roundabouts filled with Gilets Jaunes waving flags, burning wooden pellets and serving up food in make-shift tents. Rather than frustrating drivers, people were honking in support, placing their own gilet jaunes on their dashboards. Some people even stopped to give food or make donations.
Who are the Gilets Jaunes?
The Gilets Jaunes sprang up from nowhere on social media initially in response to a proposed hike in diesel taxes, the suppression of the wealth tax, traffic cameras and austerity measures. Initially, people from all walks of life joined in, from executives, families, middle income earners, as well as blue collar workers. The movement got its name from the yellow high visibility vests that every French motorist is required to carry in their vehicle and wear in case of an accident or breakdown. In french, ‘yellow vest’ is ‘gilet jaune’.
The movement evolved into mass protests against the decline in purchasing power in general over the last forty years. Everything from the price of electricity to the number of french civil servants was being hotly debated on every news channel for hours each night. They’d been going since the 17th November and I had been uneasily watching their activities on television as I prepared to move across the world.
Philippe*, the person I was staying with, was right into it. Every night he’d come home from a meeting that went for hours, or from the roundabouts, talking with others. Or there would be meetings held at the house. He’d record live feeds onto his Facebook, ever hopeful that he would make it onto the television. He did get interviewed one night before I arrived but his somewhat, let’s say, passionate nature meant the TV presenters talked right over him. He then spent four nights with no sleep preparing for the next TV interview which never eventuated, insisting that evidently Macron had been responsible for cancelling it. Finally he laid a complaint with the police against the President and the Government for acts ranging from racketeering, to wasting public money and violence against vulnerable people. Philippe remained convinced there would be a civil war, it’s the end of the 5th republic and the start of the 6th, and Macron would resign.
I tried to be supportive. I was curious as to how this was all organised and what they were hoping to achieve. The intriguing thing is that this was a movement touted as apolitical (other than wanting Macron to resign), and borne of social media – there were no actual assigned leaders or any structured organisation. Just Facebook posts sharing information (an alarming amount of fake news ) and advertising the next “peaceful protest.” One particularly insightful piece that Philippe often quoted I soon discovered to have been authored by a man who had been a victim of several, clearly disturbing, paranormal experiences.
Protests were supposed to be declared and approved at the local prefecture (like a type of city council), including the route and location. So they’re either declared and approved, declared and refused, declared about 10 minutes before the protest starts (clever) or not declared at all as a kind of sock to the government. Nor do they necessarily stick to the approved route.
The most ingenious was the tampering of toll booths meaning that the motorways could be driven for free. The toll company is promising to write to all drivers to get them to pay up. At the time of writing I am not sure this has happened. One particular weekend we were out for a drive and came across a toll booth. The Gilets Jaunes had done their usual tampering so the barrier arms remained up and we were waved on through with a friendly smile.
The roundabouts became mass social gatherings, and trailer units were parked there to house all the food for people. Cries of “Macron demissionne, on ne lache rien!” (Macron resign, we won’t give up!”) could often be heard or are painted on banners. From what I observed in my little corner of France, the movement morphed into a place where the isolated, down-on-their-luck people came for some company and sense of community. They seemed to be enjoying more the sense of belonging, food, and camaraderie, rather than trying to resolve the problems.
The Government Response
After two more weekends of this, including the pillaging of the Champs Elysee in Paris, the French President Emmanuel Macron spoke, cap in hand, to the people of France. At first he tut-tutted them like naughty children over the violence and damage they’d caused (someone spray-painted the Arc de Triomphe) then admitted he needed to listen more to the people. He announced an estimated 10 billion euros worth of social packages, including backtracking on the hike on diesel tax to allay the anger.
This, however, did not stop the Gilets Jaunes. While they were supposed to be peaceful protests, they turned violent and the police responded with spectacular force – tear gas, flashbols and full riot gear. Many supporters fell away, leaving it as a largely blue-collar movement. Ten people died as a result of these protests, mainly accidents at roundabouts, and a couple of cases of flashbols hitting people in the head.
I don’t think the Gilets Jaunes realised the cost of what they were doing and that this is money that could be better spent resolving their issues. The lost revenue and bill from the damage caused so far is astounding. 10 million euros of damage on one Saturday alone. Lost trading for businesses, who estimate they lost 20-30% turnover in the lead-up to Christmas.
In January 2019, the Government announced Le Grand Debat (Grand Debate), a two-month long consultation period in which the President was to travel around all the departments discussing the issues with the mayors and deputies. There was also a survey released for people to fill in, in an attempt to provide some structure and clarity on what the key issues actually were.
The Saint Malo Chapter
A group of the local Gilets Jaunes chapter, including Philippe, were wanting to set up a more structured, formal society, which had to be done through a lawyer. Philippe was proud to have been appointed vice-president. I suggested to Philippe that maybe this society should fill in the survey and see if they could get an appointment with the local mayor. This would be their opportunity to have their voice heard in a structured way.
I went along to the meeting with the lawyer who explained all the legal ins and outs and then we all went off to have a cup of coffee, paid for everyone by the treasurer of the not-quite-yet-formed society that received donations from everyone.
Three hours later we came home. The group had split into two factions who disagreed fundamentally on just about everything, including how the group should be run. A third faction had broken off and become violent, and so the group wanted to distance themselves. There was much drinking of coffee and smoking of cigarettes along with exchanges of anecdotes of poor treatment ranging from everything to Rothchilds selling off a part of the company through to the number of taxes on motor vehicle owners.
They never did get themselves organised. There were two other large events organised to address the issues, including a speaker on the economy from a nearby university by non-Gilets Jaunes groups that nevertheless had a large Gilets Jaunes presence.
To be honest I got tired of it all. The cause was good, the methods not-so-much. I got tired of hearing how terrible France is, how terrible the Government is, especially Macron, how the country is broke and how the rich people are simply awful, especially big businesses, for siphoning their money offshore and not paying taxes in France. How the immigration problem is terrible. It did not seem to be based on much fact. This was the country I loved that I had now chosen to live in.
At the time of writing, the Gilets Jaunes are still alive and well, having most recently come out in protest against the Government’s pension reform scheme. The roundabouts are clear, and they’ve stopped their regular Saturday protests, marking only the one-year anniversary of the movement with a protest down the Champs Elysee for good measure. I wonder if anything did change for the people I saw at the roundabouts. I hope so.
*Philippe is not his real name
See my next blog on what it’s like to be tear-gassed.
