


Protests against Emmanuel Macron’s pension reform turn violent
Why the French are in revolt
WHAT IS GOING on in France? A night of rioting on March 23rd saw 903 acts of arson in Paris, as bins overflowing with uncollected, stinking rubbish were torched. In Bordeaux rioters set the town-hall door alight. Across France, 457 people were arrested and 441 policemen and gendarmes injured in clashes on the streets.
The violence came at the end of a day-long national strike, the ninth since the start of the year. More than 1m people marched against President Emmanuel Macron’s decision to raise the retirement age from 62 years to 64. Such is the unrest on the streets that on March 24th France and Britain jointly decided to postpone the four-day visit of King Charles, which was supposed to begin only two days later.
Not only would the practical challenges of organising such a visit have been hairy, so would the symbolism. Among other events, Mr Macron was to have hosted the king at a banquet at the former royal palace of Versailles, home to Louis XVI, the last French monarch of pre-revolutionary France, before he was guillotined. “The French people know how to frighten all monarchs. Whether at Buckingham or the Elysée!” tweeted a delighted Manon Aubry, a member of the European Parliament from the hard-left Unsubmissive France party, after the postponement was announced.
Why are the French so angry? On one level, they are simply rejecting en masse the idea that they should retire later. Polls have consistently shown that public opinion is against Mr Macron’s proposal, even though many European countries with similarly ageing populations have already increased their pension ages.
Yet the anger in France goes beyond this. Some of it has sharpened into violence, as hardcore agitators join political protesters in acts of wilful destruction, often aimed at symbols of the state. The fury is directed above all against the way that the legislation was forced through parliament. Mr Macron decided to bypass a regular vote, using article 49.3 of the constitution, and instead placed his government’s survival on the line. On March 20th it survived two parliamentary votes of no-confidence, one by a margin of just nine votes.
The use of article 49.3 is perfectly legal; indeed, it has been activated 100 times since 1958. But it is politically contentious, particularly for a totemic reform like raising the retirement age. Opponents have successfully portrayed its use as a way of imposing a decision against the will of the people, all the more so when enacted by a leader who is often seen as disconnected and out of touch.
Speaking in Brussels on March 24th, Mr Macron vowed not to give in to “violence”. His pension reform must now be reviewed by the constitutional council, before being written into the statute books. The protests are likely to continue until then, if not longer. Opponents know that the street can defeat reform, even after it is passed. In 2006 mass protests forced Dominique de Villepin, then prime minister, to shelve a labour reform that had already been written into law. Another one-day strike has been called for March 28th.
Even before the rioting Mr Macron’s popularity rating had fallen to 28%, its lowest point since 2019, during the gilets jaunes (yellow jackets) movement. The degree of violence is particularly chilling in a country that romanticises the mob. For now, public opinion seems to be with the protesters, although that may fade if the violence continues.
It is a nasty situation with no easy solutions. Mr Macron seems set to try to ride it out. He knows the measure is unpopular, but argues that it is necessary; his reputation as a reformist leader hangs in the balance. “He is determined not to do what de Villepin did,” says one minister. Yet the mood in France remains volatile. The president needs to make a better effort at reconnecting with people, and showing them that he can listen. ■