When I arrive in Lezay my clothes are damp with sweat and my head is foggy. I find hundreds of supporters of Les Soulèvements de la Terre in a field on the outskirts of town, in a victorious but cautious mood. People carry banners that read: “We are all Les Soulèvements de la Terre.” The police are there, but keeping their distance. A helicopter circles above.
Lazare emerges from the crowd, clutching a half-eaten sandwich and wearing shiny silver shoes. When we finally find a patch of field that isn’t covered in sheep shit, he kneels in the grass and in his gentle, methodical way explains why it’s time for the climate movement to take more radical action.
Part of Lazare’s job is to soften the image of Les Soulèvements de la Terre. For years, she appeared in French magazines as the new face of radical ecoactivism, but only became the official spokesperson for Les Soulèvements de la Terre when the group faced the prospect of being shut down. Now Lazare is part of a small group of people who give speeches at protests or explain their motivations to the press. “The government tries to say that Les Soulèvements de la Terre is one of these dangerous far-left groups,” she says, twisting blades of grass between her fingers as she speaks. They want the public to imagine violent men, she explains. Lazare knows she doesn’t conform to that image. And neither do her supporters, lying on the grass with their bikes, behind us. There are children, gray-haired hippies, a contingent of tractors, dogs and even a donkey. A large white horse pulls a cart in a circle, a speaker inside vibrates with music.
Later that day, I join about 700 supporters of Les Soulèvements de la Terre pedalling along quiet country roads, weaving their way past sunflower fields, wind turbines and dry rivers. Every time we reach a small town, the streets are filled with people, sometimes hundreds, cheering and clapping as we pass. Small farm owners open their gates, inviting us to fill our water bottles and use the restrooms. There’s a DJ on wheels blasting The Prodigy as we head to the next town. Three months later, in November 2023, the same supreme court in France overturns the government’s decision to ban the group, ruling it was disproportionate.
It’s a brief respite in the legal assault the movement is facing as European authorities formulate their response to the wave of sabotage sweeping the continent. In November, Lazare and another spokesperson for Les Soulèvements de la Terre are due to appear in court for refusing to participate in a parliamentary inquiry into the 2023 protests, including the Battle of Saint-Soline. They face up to two years in prison. That same month, Patrick Hart appears in court to decide whether he should lose his medical license because of his activism. Last year, members of Letzte Generation were subjected to police raids in Germany, and in May 2024, the prosecutor’s office in the German town of Neuruppin charged five members of the group with forming a criminal organization, citing in part the 2022 protests against the pipeline. Surprisingly, Werner has not been charged, but he hopes a public trial of his fellow activists could spark a nationwide reckoning over Germany’s use of fossil fuels and finally give his pipeline sabotage the impact he’s always wanted.
As their members are dragged through the courts, it seems more important than ever for these groups to have public support. That’s why the people lining the small country roads are so important to Lazare. He needs their blessing. “Radicalism always needs to be supported by a mass of people to be victorious,” he tells me. Sabotage must inspire imitators, which means it must shake off its reputation as a sinister, criminal act.
After the first long day of cycling, we arrive at a camp. The activists have set up a campsite with a bar, a paid canteen, a stage for climate talks, and live music. There’s the accordion again, that festival atmosphere. “I think it’s important for activists to sometimes go at night, masked, and commit sabotage,” Lazare says. “But at Les Soulèvements de la Terre, we want to do it in the middle of the day, not anonymously, but collectively, with joy and music.” Joy, he says, is key to the whole idea.
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