REPORTING. In New Caledonia, Kanak independence youth want to “finish the work undertaken by the elders”

“Roll down your window! Who are you ?” In the popular district of Rivière-Salée, in Nouméa, no one did not cross the roadblock without having revealed his identity to Arona Teno. Wooden slat in one hand, walkie-talkie in the other, this 24-year-old Kanak is getting around in his own way on May 23. “You, it’s okay. You pass”, he hisses to a motorist who quickly presses the accelerator. His car has to go up on the sidewalk to get around a burnt fridge.

Before the vote to thaw the electoral body on May 13, which led to riots in New Caledoniathe young man with long braided hair was “a quiet guy”. He did a series of odd jobs: “masonry”, “plumbing”, “work of all kinds”… THE “Spark Monday”he wrote this text to a friend: “Come on, you too. If we don’t move, the Kanaks, we’re dead.” Arona Teno lifts her hood and remarks: “Have you seen around? They’re just young people. We’re the ones who raised the alarm this time.” At this crossroads, as at the other dams, Kanak youth are on the front line. Twenty years on average, maybe twenty-five, but rarely more.

At this intersection, a frayed Kanaky flag catches the wind above a makeshift tent. Jibril suggests sitting on a can. He turned 18 three days before the “defense actions”, as he describes them. The high school student is not a member of any political party. It was born in 2006, eight years after the Nouméa agreements, and eighteen years after those of Matignon. “Our old people did what they could to free us from France, he comments. But we’ve waited long enough. Now it’s our time, it’s the young people’s time.” His high-pitched voice is muffled under his white mask.

In the premises of the Caledonian Unionin Nouméa, we prefer to say it quietly, but we mean it very strongly. “Yes, we are assisting to a generational putsch, admits a frame of the pmain independence party in New Caledonia. We didn’t want to see these young people. Finally Yes. We believed them with us. They are with us, but up to a certain limit.”

“As with any political party, there is a kind of distrust today. Because we haven’t won anything. Because they have been the same leaders for 35 years.”

A member of the Caledonian Union

at franceinfo

In the field, moreover, members of the CCAT (Field Action Coordination Unit) are not always welcome. “The status of referent does not open doors so easily”, murmurs Jean*, who is driving at high speed at the wheel of his white Jeep. This May 22, he must “negotiate” for a few minutes access to a blocking point located in the Ducos district, economic heart of the New Caledonian capital. Back at headquarters, he finally admitted it: “Some young people criticize us leaders for not being effective enough. JI can show you a bunch of profiles on Facebook that have hatred against leaders. These are messages based on: ‘We’re going to kill you’.”

Christine, a long-time member of the Caledonian Union, rolls her eyes. “Mes children are more radicalized than me. I saw it again when the text on the unfreezing of the electorate was voted on in the National Assembly. My son is a sports teacher. I didn’t recognize him in his messages.” A revealing exchange:

– “Mom, stop. Now we’re burning everything.

– No, my son, no. This is not the instruction of our leaders.

– No mom, that’s not your instruction. But your instructions are not ours. You guys are too slow.”

Christine remembers being “surprise” to see so many young faces in mid-April, on the occasion of the big demonstration for and against the enlargement of the electorate. “It was my first mobilizationconfides Colette. I had come on foot to Nouméa with several friends because transport had stopped. We walked for an hour and a half. A month later, cigarette in mouth, the young woman stands on a dam in the Vallée-du-Tir district, one of the poorest in the city.

There have also been warning signs. To see them, simply peel the attendance sheets for the first two self-determination referendums, in 2018 and 2020: theYoung people were widely mobilized. “They moved in mass pto express their sense of identity and their community belonging because the question asked came from the French State, decrypted Samuel Gorohouna, lecturer in economics at the University of New Caledonia. But paradoxically, these The same young people do not mobilize for the provincial elections which are nevertheless the meeting where leaders are elected, and in particular independence leaders.”

“I’m not interested in themconfirms Sala, 20 years old, nursing student from the island of Lifou. That For twenty-five years our old people have been talking to us about independence projects, but what have we gained? OHe’s still in the same boat.” None of his relatives work. “MEven young people who go to study in mainland France find nothing. They return with diplomas but also find themselves unemployed. We can feel like strangers in our own home.”

Inequalities between Kanaks and the rest of the New Caledonian population persist, starting with access to employment. In 2020, the unemployment rate for Kanaks stood at 19.7%, “i.e. 6 points above that of the entire population”then reported the government of New Caledonia. “The Kanaks, generally less qualified than other communities, remain a minority in employment, analyzed the Isee in 2022. But the gaps persist even at equivalent level of diploma. In addition, they hold jobs with less responsibility or more precariousness and are more affected by unemployment situations.

“There was progress, but it stagnated from 2009, observes Samuel Gorohouna. The constitutional reform on the unfreezing of the electoral code is part of this context of economic tensions. “The fear for the Kanaks is that they will be pushed to the side even more, that they will come even further behind everyone else. The feeling of social injustice is strong.”

In a dead end street in the Ducos district, smells of grilled meat rise from a shopping cart that serves as a barbecue. In the grass, wild electrical connections wind their way as we go deeper. Paul, uAn extra-large Bermuda short, a gray T-shirt that reaches knee level, passes the time, sitting on a plastic chair in front of his tin shack. “We must finish the work started by the elders”chants the thirty-year-old plumber-solarist with three-day beard.

His speech is clear. “We are not fighting against the French people, we have nothing against the country of France. We are fighting against its system. Slowly, France must let go of our hands. France must agree to decolonize New Caledonia. It is provided for in the texts, keep this commitment.” As he speakson May 23, Emmanuel Macron is visiting the “Caillou”, at the High Commission of the Republic. “I don’t listen to the president. He doesn’t respect us, I don’t respect him”Paul decides.

“There is no turning back. Several of our brothers have died in recent weeks. They must have died for something much greater.”

On a Païta roundabout, a banner surrounds trees, with this message painted on it: “Tribute to the Kanak martyrs of 2024 who fell under the bullets of the militia and the French state”. A formula which recalls the “events”, as the Caledonians call the bloody conflict, between separatists and loyalists, in the 1980s. “The old people who experienced these years tell us today that we must drop the white flag. But no, you must not give up. We will continue our fight until the end. We’re not going to give up.”shouts Paul, who claims the fight led by the new generation.

In the last text message he sent to franceinfo on Monday, Arona Teno assured that the roadblock he held at Rivière-Salée had been “attack” twice by the police. His neighborhood was finally retaken on Friday by the gendarmes. But he nonetheless remained determined. “They can clear us out, but we’ll come back.st the start of something. You’ll see, we’re now unstoppable.”

* The first name has been changed at the request of the person concerned.