An Ugly Backlash in Lorraine

By John Nielsen

Amid riots and threats, Mitterrand presses a policy of rigueur

The blockade was in place even before daylight broke over the smokestacks of Lorraine. Gangs of workers erected more than 120 barricades of coiled sheet steel throughout that eastern region, sealing off the major towns and shutting the border crossings to West Germany, Belgium and Luxembourg. Factories were idled; stores, banks and public offices were closed and shuttered. In Nancy 10,000 marchers took to the streets, in Longwy 15,000, in Metz 20,000. In a dramatic climax to nearly a week of unrest, the entire region was delivering an ultimatum to President Franc,ois Mitterrand: repeal a draconian restructuring plan, announced two weeks ago, that would eliminate 25,000 of the stricken steel industry's 90,000 jobs by 1987.

Mitterrand's response came a few hours later at a rare televised press conference. The plan, he declared, would go forward. The state had spent $2.1 billion from 1981 to 1983 to cover deficits in the steel industry, and it would probably shell out an additional $1.3 billion this year alone. "Can we go on devoting subsidies to losing enterprises forever?" asked Mitterrand. The steel plan is part of an overall restructuring program designed to make France's heavy industry competitive by trimming excess capacity and modernizing production. The process could eliminate as many as 60,000 jobs by 1987 in the coal, automobile, shipbuilding and steel industries. "The future of France depends necessarily on the modernization of its industry," said the President. "Either France will be capable of facing up to international competition or it will be pulled down toward decline."

Trying to take some of the sting out of the issue, Mitterrand pledged, "There will not be one layoff." Instead, workers would be gently eased into early retirement or transferred into two-year vocational retraining programs, with pay. Mitterrand also promised that Industry Minister Laurent Fabius, author of the restructuring scheme, would be given "exceptional powers" to encourage development in affected areas like Lorraine. Mitterrand even listed a number of new industries earmarked for particular towns in the region, and he made a point of promising a new high-speed rail line through Lorraine into West Germany. The workers at the barricades were unimpressed. "There have been so many such plans announced in the past that people just don't believe them any more," said a Socialist worker.

As word of Mitterrand's press conference spread through Lorraine last Wednesday, the mood turned ugly. At Longwy, site of violent steel riots in 1979 and the epicenter of last week's upheavals, some 200 young casseurs (delinquents) clashed with riot police. Soon the dingy town of 17,000 was a battleground. One young man had his hand blown off by a concussion grenade; another was hit in the face with a tear-gas canister and lost his lower lip. In the nearby town of Rehon, a gang of workers set fire to an elegant chateau frequented by factory managers; volunteer firemen, themselves off-duty steelworkers, refused to fight the blaze. When the long night was finally over, 15 people had been injured and 25 arrested in eight hours of skirmishes.

Back in Paris, the political battle was just beginning. Mitterrand's recent economic conservatism has placed increasing strains on his always uncomfortable coalition with France's Communists. In an often sarcastic hour-long television interview early last week, Communist Party Chief Georges Marchais called the steel plan a "bad thing" and damned the entire restructuring policy as a "tragic error" that is "doomed to fail." Marchais insisted that his party would remain in government and oppose the policy from the inside. Some high-ranking Socialists believe, however, that the Communists really want out--but will go only if they are expelled.

That impression was heightened a fortnight ago, TIME has learned, by a testy telephone conversation between Marchais and Premier Pierre Mauroy. Marchais threatened to pull out of the government because two 1983 mayoral elections, won by Communists, were being investigated for campaign irregularities. Mauroy pleaded that the government was powerless; the Council of State, which rules on such matters, is independent and nonpartisan. Marchais, however, was in no mood to listen. The Communists have lost eleven by-elections since the municipal balloting last year, and under Marchais their share of the national vote dropped from 22% in 1978 to an estimated 13% now. If the party were to quit the government, however, the Socialists would retain an overwhelming legislative majority, and the Communists would be out in the cold, embroiled in a messy leadership struggle.

Meantime, Mitterrand faces a more serious challenge: a massive steelworkers' march on Paris scheduled for this week. Having abandoned the openhanded policies that got him elected, Mitterrand needs time for his new economic rigueur to work, and he must somehow retain the support of his traditional constituents on the shop floor. Back in 1981, he stood in Longwy and pledged that the steel industry would be the "spearhead" of an industrial revival in France. Harsh reality has turned that promise to ashes, but his audience that day will not let him forget it. --By John Nielsen. Reported by Jordan Bonfante/Paris and Thomas A. Sanctm/Longwy

With reporting by Jordan Bonfante/Paris, Thomas A. Sancton/Longwy