The silent coup

“It is a luxury shop on the corner of Rue des Filles du Calvaire and Rue de Turenne. At around 6.58 pm on 17 October, a group of hooded individuals relentlessly attacked the vast, illuminated façade using concrete blocks, manhole covers, fire extinguishers and crowbars,” writes Pascal Bruckner in Le Figaro. “It was a protracted effort, but the energy and dynamism of the attackers eventually shattered the glass, which cracked, splintered and buckled. Residents called the police… who responded but never arrived. From midday until midnight in this neighbourhood near République, right in the heart of Paris, not a single uniformed officer was to be seen. Not one!!! Eventually, a breach is made in the shop window; the attackers rush in, taking care not to cut themselves on the shards of glass, and help themselves to whatever is inside. They are swift, coordinated and professional. A veritable commando operation. They emerge with shirts, suits, bags and extremely expensive shoes: the haul isn’t half bad. The whole thing lasted just under half an hour. Throughout the evening, men can be seen carrying bundles in their arms: their ‘free purchases’ of the day. Shortly afterwards, in front of the same shop, two figures—also disguised—emerge, carrying two full bags. A man keeping watch over the shop calls out to them and asks if they aren’t ashamed of stealing. Two teenagers: ‘Sir, sir, please, we haven’t taken anything, we’re the last ones…’. In the end, they reach an agreement and leave with just one bag. The day began around midday, with the first hand grenades and tear gas canisters being fired. These are peaceful marches, made up mostly of very young people, shouting: ‘Bourgeois, bourgeois, don’t just watch us, join us!’. Everyone is proud to be out on the streets.

The first tourists are crowding the streets, the terraces are full, and the weather is fine. Two worlds collide: that of the visitors to this affluent neighbourhood – a favourite destination for shoppers, whether American, Italian or Chinese – and that of the demonstrators, chanting a variety of slogans. But behind these processions, in which Palestinian flags are waved, come older individuals, hooded and masked, dressed entirely in black. Their concerns are very different from those regarding secondary school reform or the Parcoursup university admissions system. The clashes began at Place de la République, where the crowd enthusiastically chanted ‘We are all children of Gaza’. For several hours, explosions rang out before the incredulous eyes of passers-by. By mid-afternoon, a wave of hooligans arrived. Shops closed one after the other, as did the bars. Le Progrès, on the corner of Rue de Bretagne, barricaded itself; the waiters, armed with truncheons, remained inside, ready to clash with the demonstrators. From 6 pm onwards, the scene became apocalyptic: gangs of young people sniggered, recounted their exploits, mimicked clashes with the police and sought new targets. What struck observers was the high spirits of the participants shouting ‘Wallah, Wallah!’. They are jubilant; they have taken over the terrorised capital; they are the masters of the opulent and indifferent capital that mocks them with its wealth. Paris, a city wide open. The air is unbreathable; it reeks of fire and gas. On the Boulevard du Temple, bicycles are burning; some people manage to climb to the upper floors of the buildings, knocking on the doors of terrified residents; the Kitsuné shop is being looted, as is the Salomon shop on Rue Vieille du Temple. Jewellery shops, shoe shops and luxury clothing boutiques are the main targets of the looters. Only the Acacia bookshop, near République, remains untouched. But this observation is even more disheartening: literature has become so irrelevant to everyone that no one feels like attacking a place of culture. And everywhere, the same slogan is scrawled on walls or shop windows: ‘Bismillah, c’est les ténèbres’ – of which we shall remember above all the final part: the promise of a dark period of looting, destruction and violence. On television, Laurent Nuñez, proud of his record, strongly rejects any notion of a state of emergency.

A few observations: the cause championed by the sixth-form students died on Saturday 17 October. It will never recover, regardless of the legitimacy of its initial demands. The ‘older brothers’ have taken the place of the ‘children’ to declare war more effectively on society and the state, which has mysteriously vanished. The purity of intentions has given way to the reality principle: one section of France wants to make the other foot the bill, and there are political groups close to the far left who support the former in the name of social justice. Political leaders have moved from dismay to firm condemnation: ‘unacceptable’, said the President, who blames the far left. People smile, alas. ‘Unacceptable’, ‘intolerable’ – when uttered by the Head of State – are mere reprimands without consequences. Those involved in this urban guerrilla warfare know they have nothing to fear. State authority has long since vanished; the police are paralysed by the fear of committing abuses; the courts release the rioters who appear before them; and the Council of State has shown great caution regarding the ban on the use of protective equipment during demonstrations, such as helmets, goggles, masks, knee pads and elbow pads. One cannot help but think back to the evening of 13 November 2015, when François Hollande, following the attack on the Bataclan, appeared as pale as a sheet and exclaimed: ‘It’s a horror!’. Although the situation is entirely different – a terrorist attack and an internal uprising are two very different things – Hollande, however good-natured he may have seemed, was a man of order who saved France when it was on the brink of disaster.

After all, it had a Prime Minister, Manuel Valls, and a Home Secretary, Bernard Cazeneuve, who possessed a sense of duty to the state. This is the consequence of a long series of concessions that some of us have been denouncing for at least twenty years: tolerance of internal decay, of outbreaks of violence in the suburbs explained away as ‘racism’ and post-colonial guilt, and a tolerance of uncivilised behaviour justified by capitalism and ‘police brutality’. What happened last Saturday will inevitably happen again, as a foretaste of the chaos that awaits us. Unless our authorities finally prioritise security above all other human rights and agree to draw the necessary conclusions: for example, by banning future demonstrations. Otherwise, the revelling hooligans of 17 October will seem like harmless extras compared to those who will follow: criminal gangs led by the far left to bring our country to its knees. A silent coup d’état.” (Translation by Mauro Zanon)