Apparently, strikes occur more frequently in France than in the United States because of what the French consider their inalienable right to demonstration. Americans have that right as well, but don't feel the need to exercise it nearly as often. Seriously, twice in one week? For different reasons? Of course, they were both protesting proposed governmental policy, but whom else does one demonstrate against besides the government?
Setting out for home from my French lit and culture class Tuesday evening, I was shocked to find a young crowd with picket signs spilling from the gates of the university courtyard and into the street. I saw a student I recognized from my sociology discussion. I descended upon the opportunity, formally introducing myself and inquired as to the events at hand. His name is Florin, and the crowd was gathered to boo the arrival of the minister of higher education, who was coming to inaugurate something or other. There was a picket sign depicting a drawing of President Sarkozy giving the finger, the point being that he is cutting taxes and giving the proceeds to the rich, while privatizing higher education, which is almost free. The police erected barricades, and a line of policemen jogged up just before the minister's arrival. There was some whistling and catcalling as he pulled in, then it got quiet again. I lost interest as the crowd broke and dissipated or made their way inside to harangue the minister more directly. I was hungry, and I'm already paying a lot to be here, so the motivation just isn't there.
Then there was the day in between all the demonstrating when the French were apparently gearing up for the next episode. That was the day my mom came into town. She was scheduled to leave the States at 4 p.m Tuesday, and there were mechanical difficulties and canceled flights, and they offered her a free ticket if she waited a day. She toyed with the idea, but decided to go. The next strike was to be staged by civil servants, most notably transportation workers. It was scheduled to officially begin at 8 p.m Wednesday and was forecasted to paralyze domestic and international flights. My mother's arrival time? 6 p.m, Wednesday evening. Barely squeaked by -- what luck!
So why the strike? Sarkozy wants to reform pensions. Currently, transport workers can receive retirement benefits after 37.5 years in employment, and his proposal is to push it back to 40. I'm not sure how teachers and postal workers are to be affected by Sarkozy's plans, as their rules differ, but some of them planned to strike as well.
Thursday, my friend Jose and I were prepared. We were going to meet at 11 a.m at Bellecour, a huge open space that offers a magnificent rallying ground for demonstrators. Jose was struck by how much it resembled a laid-back festival instead of a passionate protest. Then we made our way to Greek literature class and utterly no one was there. We weren't sure if it was strike-related or if the teacher had canceled class and we'd just forgotten. So we got coffee and sandwiches, and made our way back to protest central, and ... it was deserted. There were a few random stragglers, pigeons and tektonik dancers. We toyed with the idea of Moyen Age class at the Bron campus, but we'd already gone through the possibilities of not being able to get there, and worse, if we couldn't get back, and the thought of the 45-minute train-tram commute -- plus any strike-related chaos -- exhausted us, and we made the all-too easy decision to just skip it. I felt guilty, of course. Especially when my host family marveled at the ease of their commute, and my friend's ride to Bron was no problem. I'm just not good at playing hooky -- I can't get past the guilt to enjoy myself.
Paris and Marseille were much harder hit. In Paris, the TGV high-speed train workers were still on strike two days later and plan to go on at least through the morning, seriously affecting international travel in Europe. Has the world ever been changed in two days? I suppose it is true that the world has been changed in moments...
I wonder if these workers are going to accomplish their goals. I have healthy American skepticism, like my friend Marge, who said of the student protest: "I don't see what the point is -- it doesn't get anything done."
Really? I am inclined to agree, but I think it's a shame. I believe that, for the most part, the American public is powerless, but even deeper, I think it's because we believe we are. Who am I? Just a little girl trying to save the world? I can't do anything. And if we all think that way, then we are powerless. I believe power is in collectives, but I have no confidence in our ability to develop them. And from a position of relative privilege, what's the need? It's easier to think about what intrigues or troubles me at the moment, because everything will always be OK, forever. It's easy to set aside the principles I supposedly believe in and impulsively consume.
Powerlessness, maybe that's the disconnect. Maybe the French aren't so easily persuaded to be trapped by their own powerlessness. Their right to demonstrate is truly inalienable. After all, when Jacques Chirac was up to the same pension plan tricks in '95, workers stayed on strike for months and got the job done. Pensions stayed the same. I think I can take a feather from the French's hat. Maybe I can't change the world all by my lonesome, but I'm not as powerless as I think, either. And as for regaining influence, it seems only obvious that changing one's thinking is the most empowering step of all.
Andrenne's column runs biweekly Wednesdays. She can be reached at alsum@cavalierdaily.com.
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