Battle story

The battlefield is the hearts of the people

EPISODE 9/9 : the battlefield is the hearts of the people

By Pierre Chopinaud

(Previously…)

But nothing could be done: no words could give her courage. Fear and resignation had taken over: her fear as a mother was the source of our downfall. She refused to act, and that was her most pressing right. From her point of view, she had nothing to lose except what she felt was already lost, just as it had been lost to her at birth: her child’s dignity.

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“Sometimes, for a greater good, one must go through a lesser good: even a small evil. It is the eternal question of the relationship between ends and means.”

The battlefield is in people’s hearts. And history is impure. Sometimes, for a greater good, one must go through a lesser good: even a small evil. It’s the eternal question of the relationship between ends and means. And to understand this, to overcome the fear in Marina’s heart, the mothers’ collective had to this time instill an even greater fear. It was a moral dilemma. It’s wrong to force someone to do something they don’t want. But giving up the fight to be morally pure meant condemning all children like Marina’s daughter to never go to school. It meant losing everything the collective had gained over the past year, and even more, it meant losing the children here, but also in French Guiana, in Mayotte, all the children in France who live in shantytowns. Wasn’t that an even greater evil? What use would our clear conscience be in the face of the thousands of children who would fall back into the garbage bag of lives that don’t matter?

This problem is as old as the hills, as old as David and Goliath. And very often, activists respond to it with their heads, with their reason, like the German Enlightenment philosopher Immanuel Kant: “Act always and everywhere in such a way that the maxim of your action is universally true.” If I lie once, I make a law of lying. No just end justifies an unjust means. An evil means corrupts its end.

“in the field of action or around it, those who prefer to keep their conscience absolutely pure, at least according to the idea they have of it (because the rules of purity are relative to each person), are very often those who do not necessarily need the change sought by action”

But the strategists of his time responded to Immanuel Kant: “You, the philosopher, in your room, your hands are clean, but that’s because you don’t have any hands.” This means: you are a man who knows nothing about action. For the field of action is not one of pure rationality, and the moral law only applies to those who do nothing. They will always have a clear conscience.

This is why, in or around the field of action, those who prefer to keep their consciences absolutely pure, at least according to their own ideas of it (because the rules of purity are relative to each individual), are often those who do not necessarily need the change sought through action. They often need the purity of their conscience more than to get their hands dirty.

Now, the members of the mothers’ collective all necessarily needed the change they sought through action: because the dignity of their children was at stake; It was this keen awareness of the need for change that had driven them into action and enabled them to build power, climb the ladder, and win victories.

They hadn’t been able to convince Marina to continue the fight through hope; they wouldn’t lose the entire war, however; they would convince her by “terrorizing” her. It was the lawyer who took the responsibility of getting her hands dirty. Fear prevented her from acting; fear would force her. Lawyer Anina Ciuciu said that if she didn’t appear before the Council of State, she would bill her for the entire procedure from the beginning of the fight. She would owe her an immense debt, and she wouldn’t let her go. It was a bluff, of course. Marina had seen Anina ready to fight the Minister; she wasn’t ready to fight Anina: she was more ready to confront her husband.

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“Marina had been afraid of Anina, but now she was proud and happy: she and the others had won not only against the lady at the ticket office, not only against the mayor, not only against the rector, but against the Minister of Education, against the State.“

On D-Day, she was ready, along with the other mothers, to enter the Council of State chamber. We had launched the offensive. The names of the mayor and Marina’s daughter were all over social media. There were already articles in the press. People all over France, by the thousands, were signing the petition. The mothers of the collective, dressed as if they were going to church, entered the grand gold and purple halls of the Palais Royal, where the highest court of the French Republic sits, to reclaim the value of their children’s lives.

To dodge sentencing, the minister personally called the mayor of the local school that very day to force her to enroll the little girl in school. It was a race against time: if she were enrolled before the judge ruled, the French Republic would avoid humiliation. Imagine the mayor’s face that morning in front of her phone? Imagine the face of the judge at the Montreuil court who ruled in favor of the mayor against Marina? Imagine the face of the rector who perhaps had, in one way or another, given her the order?

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“They had killed the “big boss,” won the game. The game was over“

As we left the Council of State, the mothers held up a large banner, their children ran and played between Buren’s famous black and white columns. The child had been registered, the Minister had not been sanctioned, but we had won! And we were already talking about it, the press was there: “a collective of mothers in precarious situations has won against the State,” wrote the Mediapart journalist the next day, who had been following our adventure since the first day. Maria’s mother had been afraid of Anina, but now she was proud and happy: she and the others had won not only against the woman at the counter, not only against the mayor, not only against the headmaster, but against the Minister of Education, against the State.

They had killed the “big boss,” won the game. The game was over.

The headmaster, even if he had nothing to do with the judge’s improbable decision, had made an irremediable mistake. Believing he was crushing us, he had given us a weapon to strike harder. Our rights were even more firmly entrenched in the law. The minister must have banged his fist on the table, and his blow must have resonated throughout all levels of the administration.

A few weeks later, we learned that the rector had been dismissed from his duties. Was it because of our campaign? We will never be certain. All that remains is for us to draw a final conclusion.

“We had not only affected the structure but we had profoundly transformed it.”

In the following days, Lucile’s phone started ringing again in her office at Askola. It was the usual bureaucrats. They were calling to make threats and announce that the administration was undergoing reform. The rector’s office would now intervene immediately when a mayor prevented a child from entering school. But in return, they had to lay down their weapons: no more press, no more courts. Indeed, since that day, the rectorate systematically intervenes when an illegal refusal is reported, and the mayor complies. We had not only affected the structure, but we had profoundly transformed it, at least locally.

But the threats were pressing: the bureaucrats had been forced to reform their practices, but it had clearly cost them money, and they were just waiting for one thing: to make them pay.

A few weeks later, the collective legal proceedings concluded. The one associated with the major campaign launch: “The Return of…” Faced with threats and intimidation from bureaucrats, including the intimidation of cutting public funding from Askola (which desperately needed it for its daily work as a school mediator), the team of leaders decided it was best not to make a splash.

On this occasion, we learned that the rector had been replaced: was it because of us? We don’t know. But we like to think so.

We have conquered an island, but it is the archipelago that must be tackled. The fight for justice is never satisfied. That is why for thousands of years the battle of David against Goliath has been fought and recounted…”

In the end, the wolf had not only been beaten, but had finally left the forest. And we won again: the mayors and the new rector were condemned once again. We didn’t shout it from the rooftops. The Askola Association had been financially jeopardized. And the big change, unexpectedly, we had achieved before this grand finale. Had we won? Not quite.

Because we know that if those in power, thanks to us, have changed their practices, they only do so when the rectorate’s services are contacted against a mayor by a parent who knows the procedure. What about the hundreds, thousands of parents who live in shantytowns, squats, on the streets, and who arrive alone at the counter? It was undoubtedly to allow themselves to continue to disregard the lives of their children that the bureaucrats, by giving in to the mothers’ collective, bothered to threaten the Askola team.

We have conquered an island, but it is the archipelago that must be conquered. The fight for justice is never sated. That’s why for thousands of years, the battle of David against Goliath has been waged and recounted…

To be continued…

Battle story

The battlefield is the hearts of the people

By Pierre Chopinaud

(Previously

The pressure continued to mount, and Lucile’s phone in her office continued to ring. In the woods, the bad guys were stirring; the advice and threats from the bureaucrats of the public administration were becoming increasingly frequent. Until one winter day, a few months after the great back-to-school action: everything was on the verge of collapse. While the collective of mothers was at the height of its power, when each one’s heart was swollen with love, joy, and pride, when each one felt the great victory approaching, a reversal brought them to the brink of defeat…

“Marina was so weak and fragile, so helpless, that it would never have occurred to her that she had the right not to suffer this humiliation.”

So one winter morning, as still happened every week, a young mother, Marina, who lived in a slum, was denied school enrollment for her child by the mayor of her town of residence. Completely illegal, she, like many other parents, was humiliated.

Unfortunately, after a year of fighting, this was still routine for the leadership team of the mothers’ collective. Despite the many small victories achieved, many mayors of the 93rd arrondissement still preferred to be outside the law and expose themselves to the risk of a public shaming campaign rather than welcome children from squats and slums into their town’s schools.

Why? Because welcoming these children into schools, into the school community, as the law and the principles of the republic oblige them to do, means recognizing that they exist, that they have dignity and rights, like everyone else. On the contrary, refusing to allow a child into school makes him and his family invisible, throwing them into the trash heap of lives that don’t matter, of deaths that aren’t mourned. And so it makes things easier when the goal is to eliminate the slum where he lives.

But back to Marina, she was once again like the helpless little shepherd David. After so many others, she was experiencing the humiliation of being prevented by a powerful Goliath from sending her son to school.

She was so weak and fragile, so powerless, that it wouldn’t have occurred to her that she had the right not to endure this humiliation with her child.

It was the mothers of the group, strong in their courage and their victories, who came, as always, to surround her, explain to her what was happening to her, and above all, tell her that, thanks to their support, she had the power to defend herself and win. If she decided to take action, that is, to go to court, in two days her little David would be in school.

“Very often in the heart of an oppressed person, fear advises, in the face of violence and the arbitrariness of power, not to act, fearing that the slightest effort to reverse the relationship of inequality will only result in increasing the crushing weight.”

The feeling that dominates the heart of a person in a situation of great powerlessness is fear. She feels the weight of the one at the other end of the relationship who deprives her of her rights. This one, her first face, is the lady or gentleman at the counter. But the oppressed person, Marina, feels that behind this face, there are papers, offices, officials: a bureaucracy, which weighs down with all the weight of its foundations, its floors and its roof, its entire architecture. And under the roof, the mayor in his or her office, and his or her face, which is the face of threat. And the more a person is deprived of power, the more unequal the relationship, the more dangerous and frightening the face of threat. The more all-powerful it appears. Being in a situation of great powerlessness means not only not being able to enroll one’s child in school, but oneself may be unable to read or write, speaking only the language of one’s home, knowing nothing about the structure that deprives one of power (and rights, dignity, health, etc.) other than the suffering and fear its pressure causes. It means handing over the decision about one’s own defense against an attack by power to someone else. In this case, for Marina, to her husband, who shares the same condition with his wife, but nevertheless enjoys the responsibility of deciding how both move.

Very often, in the heart of the oppressed, fear, in the face of the violence and arbitrariness of power, advises one not to act, fearing that the slightest effort to reverse the relationship of inequality will only increase the crushing weight. This is because being deprived of power also means not knowing the history of injustice where the balance of power has been reversed. It means not knowing the story of David and Goliath, which is so important and must be told.

Now, it is a well-known fact that in power relations, the one who dominates never has enough, and being weak in the face of the strong fuels their desire to take you even more.

So Marina and her husband said to the mothers of the collective: “NO! It’s too dangerous. How foolish for us, who are so small, to stand up to the powerful! We have nothing to gain except to be crushed even more, humiliated even more, and suffer even more! Better to flee, take what we have, and go further to find what we can, and our child will do as we did when he grows up: this is how life has always been for us…”

“Not only had belonging to this community replaced fear with courage in their hearts, resignation with hope, but by dint of fighting, they had developed a singular power to convince through words.”

This was without counting on the power of conviction acquired by the mothers of the collective. Before forming a fighting community, each one shared the feeling of inevitability and resignation felt by Marina and her husband. But not only had belonging to this community replaced fear with courage in their hearts, resignation with hope, but through their struggle, they had developed a singular power to convince through words.

So they provoked Marina and her husband by telling them that if they lacked the courage to act for the dignity of what was most precious to them in the world, their own flesh and blood, their child, what were they? A dog’s mother would die to defend her young.

It wasn’t without provocation. But it touched their hearts and their pride, Marina’s especially. For the first time in her life, she decided to take action without waiting for her husband’s opinion.

The next day, she was in court, accompanied by Alisa and Mirela, the leaders of the collective, and their lawyer, Anina Ciuciu. She had overcome her fear and found the courage to stand up with others to the face of the power that was humiliating her. She was ready to fight, to resist, to reverse the balance of power.

“It was not only the first defeat, but it was perhaps the end of the war! The mothers’ collective had been struck by surprise and knocked to the ground.”

But what was their astonishment when, for the first time since the beginning of the battle, against all odds, against all justice, against the spirit and letter of the law, against all hope, the judge ruled in favor of the wicked Goliath…

It was a catastrophe! When you’re the one who’s been offended, the courage that filled your heart week after week, the joy and pride that, like a rolling ball, have grown as big as the sun, can in an instant be replaced by the return of fear and sadness. It was not only the first defeat, but it might well have been the end of the war! The collective of mothers had been struck by surprise and knocked to the ground. Marina, in whose heart the other mothers had kindled faith, resented them: she had deluded her. And the others began to doubt their power.

For if the judge had ruled in favor of the mayor this time, why wouldn’t he repeat that decision? It was undoubtedly the effect of the pressure coming from those in power. It was the obscure effect of the structure counterattacking. The mothers’ collective was stunned.

(More in the next episode….)

Battle story

The battlefield is the hearts of the people

By Pierre Chopinaud

(Previously

After the joy of having accomplished a brilliant feat together, a great action, where each person had been able to play their part to the best of their ability, where each person had given the best of themselves, overcome their fear, for all the others; after having received numerous messages of support, encouragement and congratulations from all over France, the members of the collective had to realize, after a few days, a few weeks, that on at least one point they had failed: they had not seen the wolf coming out of the woods.

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“The pressure was beginning to mount. It was a chemical reaction. It was our actions that had caused it to mount: we had begun to affect the balance of power and tip it.”

After the major public launch event recounted in the previous episode, the drama of the mothers’ collective had entered, thanks to France 5, Mediapart, and Kombini, into the homes of ordinary people: “What? In France, in 2024, “we” prevent children from going to school because they are poor?”

But this “we” wasn’t “the big bad wolf” of the story: Mr. Rector. The mothers’ collective hadn’t managed to give him a name and a face. He was still hidden in the darkness of his woods. He hadn’t shown his nose or his tail, and even less had he granted the meeting requested by Mirela, the leader of the collective, during the action. When a target isn’t visible, it means your arrow hasn’t hit it, it even means you’re having trouble aiming at it. “We”: that’s no one. You can’t shoot an arrow at “no one.” On the other hand, a number of powerful people felt targeted. The discriminatory structure had been affected.

The mayors of the cities implicated in the complaint and about whom some media outlets had reported; but also the heads of the public administration responsible for combating poverty. The arrows had not fallen in the desert. The rector may have dodged, but other officials had been affected. Or perhaps: he had been hit but had sent others to expose their wounds.

“And there are no privileges without the dispossessed. What some enjoy is always what others are deprived of. The structure organizes this inequality.”

It was then that Lucile, one of the members of the leadership team, began receiving calls from public administration bureaucrats in her office. The tone ranged from friendly advice, “that’s not how it should be done,” to threats: “We’re going to cut the public subsidies you receive.” The pressure was beginning to mount. It’s a chemical reaction. It was the mothers’ collective whose actions had increased it: the collective had begun to affect the balance of power and shift it.

When power threatens, it’s worrying, but it’s also a good sign: it means the campaign is effective. It means that the offended who took action have already built power. We must evaluate the response, consider it, and adapt. Above all, we must not give in.

When we act to bring about structural change, the structure defends itself, and if the structure stirs, it’s because it has been affected. The more we affect it, the tougher it becomes, the more those who enjoy the privileges it grants them feel threatened. And there is no privilege without the dispossessed. What some enjoy is always what some are deprived of. The structure organizes this inequality.

“The change was not complete. But the weapons were still well loaded.”

ref. The threat was still too low for the mothers’ collective to change course, and its members felt a sense of unfinished business: the goal of the big launch event was to be received by the big bad wolf who hadn’t deigned to show up.

Moreover, the problem remained: every week, parents were denied school registration for their children at the town hall in the 93rd arrondissement. Always for the same reason: they lived in a squat, a shantytown, or on the streets. Always by the same means: a document was missing from their application: the document was impossible to obtain. Always in the same illegal situation. The law was on the side of the mothers. Change wasn’t complete. But their weapons were still fully loaded.

So the heroines, the mothers of the collective, went back into battle. And since their weapons were the right ones, they won every time: the town hall employees and elected officials gave in to the fear of being convicted by the courts and singled out in the press for having prevented a poor child from going to school. And each time, it was the little girls who filled their mothers’ hearts with joy and pride, that is, with power. The pressure continued to mount, and Lucile’s phone in her office continued to ring. In the woods, the bad guys were stirring; the advice and threats from the public administration bureaucrats were getting closer and closer.

Until one winter day, a few months after the big back-to-school campaign, everything was on the verge of collapse. While the collective of mothers was at the height of its power, while each one’s heart was swollen with love, joy and pride, while each one felt the great victory approaching, a reversal led them to the brink of defeat….

(More in the next episode….)