Roanne is a medium-sized town in the south-east of France, and one of those places which rarely makes the news. Politically, too, nothing very much out of the ordinary takes place here. Its 33,000 residents vote in line with national trends. Indeed, in 2017 the local vote almost exactly mirrored the national result in the presidential election, right down to an almost identical turnout rate. At the presidential election last year the voting changed a little. The townsfolk voted in slightly greater numbers for Emmanuel Macron, and the far-right gained ground. As for the radical left La France Insoumise (LFI), its share of the vote remained stable and relatively low. In the 2022 Parliamentary elections Ismaël Stevenson, the LFI candidate representing the broad leftwing coalition NUPES, did not make it beyond the first round of voting.
On Monday August 14th Ismaël Stevenson took part in a national initiative by the party which had chosen Roanne as one of the stops for its nationwide 'people's caravans' roadshow. These summer tours of the country have become a regular feature for La France Insoumise, which uses them to meet local people, talk about its policies and help people, for example in resolving administrative issues. Every day two caravans stop in a new community, one journeying west and the other to the east of France. It was one of these that pulled up in the Le Parc neighbourhood of Roanne on August 14th, in between stops at Cusset the day before and Villefranche-sur-Saône the day after.
Enlargement : Illustration 1
The LFI caravans usually visit working class districts in large towns and cities, where they are generally well-received politically. But this year the party has decided to send its roadshow to the country's villages, small and medium-sized towns where LFI finds it harder to win support. In the presidential election last year the party's founder and candidate Jean-Luc Mélenchon picked up 24% of the vote in the Paris area but an average of only 14% in towns with populations of fewer than 100,000. That was seven points down on the 2017 election.
In an interview with Mediapart the LFI Member of Parliament François Ruffin said this indicated a “divorce that needs resolving between the working classes from immigrant backgrounds who live in city suburbs and the 'white' working classes who live on the outskirts of small towns, who have left metropolitan areas because rents are too high, and property is unaffordable. There's a need to establish links between these two sections.”
The Le Parc neighbourhood in Roanne and its thousand or so residents does not really tick the boxes of this analysis, however. It is a poor, racialised and cut-off area, with a similar story to many other such social housing estates across France. Roanne is a former textiles hub, a working class and immigrant town which lost its jobs and then, over time, regained some economic vitality while at the same time leaving a section of its population by the wayside. “Such neighbourhoods aren't just in cities but everywhere,” says one of those on the caravan roadshow team, Mathéo Blanpain, a young LFI activist.
This particular August day groups of bored children are hanging around outside the neighbourhood's residential blocks and between its parking areas. The arrival of an electric scooter serves as a temporary distraction. As does the arrival of the LFI roadshow. Adults don't approach the caravan but the fruit juices on offer attract the attention of the children, who then respond to questions put to them. No they're “not going away on holiday” and yes “it's boring”. The area's social centre was damaged by fire during the social unrest that hit much of France in late June.
There is a bus service that connects the neighbourhood with the outside world but buses are not very frequent, and especially not in August. “Without a car you're stuck here,” say the children. “The neighbourhood is a long way from everything and there's nothing to do,” they add. The area's three high-rise towers were demolished as part of a urban renewal project but this did not change the level of poverty. More than half the families here live on under 1,000 euros a month. That is precisely why the LFI team have come here: to talk about how life has become “too hard” and to hand out leaflets with figures on “soaring prices”.
To start up conversations the LFI activists need to go door to door. They divide up the blocks and knock on each flat. The introductions can take some time as the LFI logo does not mean much to people. The name La France Insoumise is a little better known, but not always. And the name Mélenchon sometimes comes as a revelation. “Ah, so you're Mélenchon!” says one woman finally after she has opened the door to the team. “But I don't like him.” Another member of the caravan team, Arthur Meyer-Abbatucci, holds out a leaflet. “But what about his manifesto? A minimum wage of 1,600 euros [a month]?” he interjects. The woman bursts into laughter. “I'm all for it, but you're dreaming,” she declares.
Enlargement : Illustration 2
“Politics feels remote,” explains a 22-year-old single mother of two children in the next building who lives on state benefits. “At the start of the month I do a week's shopping and then we eat okay. For the other three weeks it's a real struggle,” she says. On the next floor up another mother reveals her budget: 100 euros a month to feed five people. “So we survive on the most basic of the basics,” she explains, standing in a stairwell lit by a neon light that goes out after a few seconds. The activists had planned to speak about the cost of living but the conversations quickly move on to other issues. “I'm angry with Macron, Le Pen, Mélenchon and all the others who are the same. I don't vote, I don't believe in it any more, and it's no longer anything to do with me,” declares a young woman on the top floor.
In Le Parc neighbourhood the rate of abstention at elections has reached record levels but the residents remain up for a political debate. The majority of doors openly quickly and people are happy to speak. About everything: including about the production line in a agri-food factory, and the work stations there which are next to the ovens meaning it's too hot, and those next to the fridges where it's the opposite. “The average time that people last there is a week but we cope,” explain a couple who are nonetheless moving from the neighbourhood because they say their children hear too much bad language here. On a floor higher up a garbage collector says he will go on strike but adds: “What good will it do?”. Another resident complains about administrative steps that have to be done on the internet. He has neither a computer nor a printer, but does have a mobile phone where he watches TikTok and through which he finds and repeats some improbable theories.
There are in fact conspiracy theories to be found on every floor, about the Illuminati or Satanists supposedly being responsible for all the world's ills, whether this be the poverty of some and the wealth of others, or even meteorological events. No one ever speaks about the environment. “That's for the rich, I don't have the money to put petrol in my car so I'm not polluting,” says one resident. The LFI's political views and policies struggle to cut through in conversations. Immigration is a recurring theme and no one among the several hundred residents encountered is afraid of far-right leader Marine Le Pen. “The only thing I have in common with Le Pen is that I love cats, but she's right that we must stop handing out [visa] documents to everyone. That's why we'll never vote for you. Close the borders,” says another resident.
“Yesterday we were in Issoire [editor's note, in central France] in a social housing neighbourhood where we met only poor pensioners. In Le Parc neighbourhood today there are lots of families. We're not speaking about the same situation at all, but none of the people at all are interested in politics,” explains Mathéo Blanpain. The activists' experiences on the ground will be used to help draw up the party's rural strategy, due to be presented at the LFI party conference at Valence in south-west France at the end of the summer.
At the last election the LFI did attract votes in the Le Parc district even if the turnout rate was very low - “around 35%” says former candidate Ismaël Stevenson. “It's difficult to campaign in this constituency and it's very expensive, especially in petrol,” he says. During his campaign, for example, he travelled 1,500 kilometres (about 930 miles) in a month to visit markets and cafés - where they exist. “The [urban] neighbourhoods, like the villages, are deserted. So how can you go and meet people?” he asks. Campaign resources are not often adapted to the reality of an area which is difficult to get around and which has very different communities. Here in this constituency you have the contrast between Le Parc in Roanne and rural villages, between the 'yellow vest' rebellion in 2018 and 2019 and the recent unrest seen in deprived urban areas, and between a temptation to vote for the far right and youthful protestors who shun the LFI in favour of less institutional movements.
“It's a former workers' area with a streak of protest about it, so there's always an activist core, and during the demonstrations against the pension reform there were lots of people,” says one local activist, Claude Groppi. But when it comes to involvement in the party - and even more when it comes to elected positions – it is another story. The activists' ranks remain thin and it is a struggle to recruit outside of the party faithful, especially among men who feel a little ill-treated as a result of social changes both inside and outside the party.
“You have to keep on going to the end,” explains one activist. He rings the bell at the last door: a woman accompanied by five young children opens the door. She doesn't speak French and the oldest child translates for her. “The man is doing politics, he wants to know if shopping is too much of a struggle,” the boy explains to his mother. It transpires that their car was burnt during the recent unrest. “Can you take my mother to the supermarket? “ her son asks. The activist agrees to do so. Meanwhile it turns out that “yes, his mother votes”. But for Mélenchon? “Never heard of him,” is the reply.
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- The original French version of this article can be found here.
English version by Michael Streeter