Behind the Barricades: Why France's High School Protests Have Become Unprecedented

Since late September, high schools across France have been disrupted by a wave of student protests against what demonstrators describe as chronic underfunding of the country's educ

Behind the Barricades: Why France's High School Protests Have Become Unprecedented

Since late September, high schools across France have been disrupted by a wave of student protests against what demonstrators describe as chronic underfunding of the country's education system. Pupils have blockaded the entrances to numerous lycées — the French secondary schools that serve students aged 15 to 18 — preventing access and, in some locations, triggering violent confrontations. According to the BBC, hundreds of students, teachers and police officers have been injured during the unrest, while thousands of people have been arrested, including an unknown number of individuals who authorities believe joined the demonstrations from outside the school communities.

The immediate complaints driving the movement are varied. Staff shortages top the list for many participants, with students reporting that teachers are sometimes absent for weeks without replacements being provided. Madalena, a pupil in Paris, told the BBC that her school's buildings became "boiling hot" during recent heat waves, highlighting the broader problem of dilapidated facilities. Other grievances include the banning of mobile phones on school premises and school days that can extend until 18:00, leaving students little time for rest or homework. One lycéen told France 2 that arriving home at 7 pm left no opportunity to sleep or complete assignments.

Another significant source of frustration is Parcoursup, France's online platform for allocating places in higher education. Many students regard the system as opaque and stressful. The pressure has deep structural roots: roughly 80% of each age cohort now passes the baccalauréat, the national school-leaving exam, which entitles holders to a university place — though not necessarily in their preferred course or institution. This has created intense competition for desirable programmes and heightened anxiety around the allocation process.

Yet the BBC's analysis suggests that these grievances, while genuine, do not fully explain the scale and intensity of the current movement. According to a recent report by the OECD, a club of developed nations, the French government actually spends more per lycée student than the EU average for upper-secondary education. Teacher shortages are acute, but by OECD measures they are milder in France than elsewhere, with fewer posts going unfilled — although French teachers do receive relatively low pay compared with their counterparts in many other countries.

The length of the French school day is also a long-standing feature rather than a new provocation. Extended schedules result largely from long lunch breaks and complex timetabling, not from making up for holidays, which are not especially lengthy by EU standards. Similarly, stress caused by a dysfunctional higher-education system is hardly unique to France. In most European countries, 80 to 90% of young people complete secondary education, and competition for good university places generates pressure elsewhere too.

Interior Minister Laurent Nuñez has described the movement as "unprecedented" in terms of the number of schools affected, the number of pupils involved and the degree of violence witnessed. That assessment raises a puzzling question: if underfunding, crumbling buildings and anxiety about the future are common complaints in many countries, why has France's protest movement erupted with such force?

Part of the answer lies in the risks that participants are willing to take. Blockading a school or university by threats or force is illegal, and such actions draw in police as well as casseurs — vandals who exploit protests for destruction. Pupils have found themselves caught up in police crowd-control operations that are often described as heavy-handed. Prime Minister Sébastien Lecornu has insisted in his latest message that security forces are not under orders to "confront high-school students," only to enforce the law. About 500 people were arrested during Tuesday's unrest alone.

To understand the tactics being employed, the BBC argues, one must look beyond the barricaded school gates to a distinctly French political tradition. In France, power has often resided on the street as much as in elected bodies, and students are keenly aware of this history. Protest is not merely a last resort but a recognized instrument of political change, with a track record that spans decades.

That track record is substantial. In October 1990, a rape at a school in Seine-Saint-Denis — an area north of Paris that has again been a focus of the present unrest — sparked mass rallies against underfunding and staff shortages. The resulting government response released the equivalent of €1.2bn in today's money for lycées. In October 1998, 500,000 pupils marched across France over similar demands, winning almost €1bn to renovate schools and 14,000 extra staff. On several occasions, student protests have defeated government reforms, including a university overhaul in 1986 and a lower youth minimum wage in 1994.

Perhaps the most striking demonstration of student power came in 2006, when a law designed to loosen hire-and-fire rules for workers under 26 was withdrawn. The measure, intended to tackle youth unemployment, had been passed by parliament and signed by then-President Jacques Chirac, but it was scrapped after weeks of university and lycée blockades, often marred by violence. Adults have likewise shown that blockading roads can prevail over elected officials: the gilets jaunes (yellow vests) uprising of 2018-2019, which saw shops ransacked and government buildings attacked, led the government to drop a fuel tax rise and approve €10bn in spending.

The street does not always win, however. In 1968 — a heroic precedent cited by virtually every French protest movement since — a student uprising was ultimately brought to an end by election. But the lycéens of today are heirs to a political culture in which demonstrators compete with elected officials to be seen as the true representatives of the people. That inheritance helps explain why a dispute over staffing and facilities has escalated into a national confrontation, and why the barricades outside French schools may remain standing for some time yet.

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rizky-amelia

Reporter Senior. Meliput dinamika politik nasional, kebijakan publik, dan isu parlemen selama 8 tahun. Alumni FISIP UI.

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