“The centre cannot hold.” This gleeful mantra has a satisfying certainty. What joy to watch while the centre, that once seemed so solid and gleaming, crumbles under the weight of the misery it has bought off and silenced for so long. The centre cannot hold. Murmur it to yourself and feel the thrill. Then remember the vicious tenacity with which the centre defends itself, scorching the earth on its way out. The centre cannot hold; nor will it relinquish its power.
The tenacity of the beleaguered centre can be witnessed in all its violent glory in the actions of the present French government and the police. They desperately need each other. On 1 May 2018, one year into the new presidential mandate, Emmanuel Macron’s personal henchman, Alexandre Benalla, annointed himself riot cop for the day and went to rough up some protestors. Equipped with a helmet, a police armband, and a baton, videos released of Benalla show him dragging around and intimidating people with all the mundane thuggery of the Brigade anti-criminalité[1] and all the personal zeal of presidential power. When the footage came to light, the president walled himself up in a castle of flagrantly deceitful silence. This silence lasted for six days. On the seventh day the president came forth in defiance: “le responsable, c’est moi”. In a message delivered bravely in front of the deputies of his own party, Macron attempted to diffuse the mounting scandal of the blurring of police and presidential power via a display of obfuscating bravado: “If they want the one who’s responsible, he’s right in front of you. Come and get me.”
One year later, the persistent refrain of the Gilets Jaunes — “Emmanuel Macron … we’re coming to get you” — echoes through the streets of Paris on May Day 2019. After 6 months of widespread rebellion, the government and the police are down but not out. The policing of the day and the accompanying communications strategy take the form of a violent and organised lashing out. My friends and I have our bags searched twice before we even glimpse a yellow vest. A biker-gang of 60 police officers mounted two-by-two swarms down a small side street as we near the march. Fearing a repeat of the incineration of the elite café Fouquet during a Gilets Jaunes protest in March, La Rotonde — where Macron celebrated his first round victory in the presidential election of 2017 — has been boarded up and is surrounded by a three-deep thick line of police. We march in tension and teargas.
