TRANSLATED FROM FRENCH BY LÉOPOLD LAMBERT
The current moment sees the French State attempting to find a model that could reassert its settler colonial and military interests in Kanaky–New Caledonia after the massive revolt of May-June 2024. As such, it was important for us to have a contribution about what a stateless liberated Kanaky could look like, which we commissioned to Florenda Nirikani who was placed under house arrest by the French authorities during this revolt. Please note that we have kept the inconsistency of the country’s name (between “New Caledonia” and “Kanaky”) to respect the common use that many Kanak people have for both—far from any purity politics that would equate the use of the colonial name as a betrayal of the liberation struggle.
New Caledonia is engaged in a process of decolonization which, since 1998, has been institutionally framed by the Nouméa Accord. This agreement was signed by three partners: the French State, the Gathering for Caledonia Within the Republic (RPCR) that represents non-independence supporters, and the pro-independence Kanak and Socialist National Liberation Front (FLNKS). The Customary Senate—one of the institutions created by this agreement to represent Kanak identity—divides time into 25-year periods in its chronological timeline. It begins from 1850. From 1850 to 1875 is Generation 1, the generation that came into conflict with the Other during the period of colonization. I will only talk here about Generation 6—my own—that is, all those born between 1975 and 2000. All these people were born during this very particular period in the country’s history, the period of the 1983 Nainville-les-Roches Declaration, the 1984-1988 civil war, the 1988 Matignon and Oudinot Accords, the 1998 Nouméa Accord, and the major industrial projects that followed. Generation 6 already has the responsibility of being the elders of Generation 7, those born between 2000 and 2025.
An entire generation has not been properly educated about the history of their country—at least the most recent century—and, as such, many of us are not equipped to truly understand the issues facing New Caledonia, a country and nation in the making. To understand, analyze, and act accordingly, we need a solid foundation of knowledge. A generation that has been counted on for development and rebalancing, for positions of responsibility in this country. A generation that has been educated to pursue degrees, overconsumption, profitability, competition, individualism, material goods… A generation that lacks this transmission of the will to act for oneself, to act for the good of the collective, the good of the people. I can still hear the words of Wassissi Konyi: “…but we were told to go and study so that we could come back and fight for our country…” How many of them give their time, sacrifice their time for something that does not bring in money, but brings in participation for collective benefit and the change of our educational practices? How many of them are unaware of the history of the first revolts in this country, the history of the independence movement? How many of them think that getting a degree is enough to build our country? How many of them are unaware of their own history? How many of them do not know what tomorrow holds for them? How many are on the side of the road? How many can no longer see the horizon, asking themselves questions about tomorrow and the day after? How many cannot read and do not speak any language? How many think that independence also means self-sufficiency? How many want to earn a lot of money? Young people are there, but they are waiting for words to be matched by actions. They sing, dance, write, paint, photograph, play, rebel, and sometimes even commit suicide to express their unease.
Initiatives are being taken here and there in different sectors of our society, but they are still too invisible. For example, the Kanak welcome gesture/custom has been introduced in some schools so that every inhabitant of the country can learn and practice it. These initiatives can also serve as references in terms of public policy that are truly part of a process of decolonization. Teaching Generation 7 about the “lights and shadows” of colonization, talking about the lies of the French state, political assassinations, and the manipulation of the masses, is to nourish the collective consciousness so that it can be critical. Building on this awareness means working towards creating citizens who are not only aware of the issues facing New Caledonia, but also global issues. Even though the Kanak liberation movement represented by the FLNKS is engaged in dialogue with the administering power and is supported by the UN, the fact remains that the Kanak people are represented by traditional organizations, families, clans, and chiefdoms.
As independence activists, we are faced with two paths: that of custom, which establishes our sovereignty through our own declaration of liberation, or that of institutions, where we must remain within the administrative circuits of the administering power.
The customary corridor is interesting because it is a way through which we are freeing ourselves from colonial power. It leads the Kanak people to reposition themselves within the eight customary areas, which comprise 33 municipalities. It should be remembered that before French colonization, Kanak civilization was composed of several peoples with sovereign organizations that ruled over specific geographical areas. The expression of segregation, the abolition of the colonial Indigenous Code in 1946, and the demand for identity prompted those with awakened consciences to aspire to bring the peoples together into a single “Kanak people.” It was during this period that the notion of a single people emerged. The Melanesia 2000 Festival, initiated by Jean-Marie Tjibaou in 1975, brought together Kanak from all eight customary areas so that they could showcase and share their cultural and artistic practices, which were still alive despite over a century of settler colonialism.
The independence of New Caledonia is inevitable. The revolt of May 13, 2024, once again sounded the call to make it obvious. It reminded us of our individual and collective responsibility to engage in the decolonization process that is the Nouméa Accord. Our duty to deconstruct our thinking and explore the realm of possibilities is based not only on the initiatives taken at the time, but also on those taken today. The May 13 revolt confronted us with our own contradictions. It is an individual and collective experience that we are currently living through, despite a certain demobilization. Faced with the challenges of the 21st century, on food sovereignty and environmental issues, we are once again questioning ourselves.
The blood that has been shed reminds us that it must not be wasted on the altar of struggle; it must remind us that we have our part to play, wherever we are. The May 13 revolt highlighted our faults and the mediocrity of our tools for struggle. It highlighted our shortcomings in the structuring of our customary organizations, but also the violence that runs through us and the work we must do on our traumas. Saying it, writing it, is not self-flagellation or being hard on ourselves. No, far from it, it is an exercise in collective introspection to clarify our vision of the nation we want for tomorrow. It will ensure that our priorities at home, starting with our families and chiefdoms, become political objectives to be pursued for our well-being and that of the entire population. It will encourage everyone to take an interest and do their part in the process of decolonization. By taking care of our thoughts and attitudes, we can better organize ourselves to advance our noble cause.
We must continue to update the legacy left to us by our elders. But as I write these lines, we are torn between two schools of thought:
The first would consist in pursuing a consensual approach with the French State while continuing to believe in Kanaky’s sovereignty. This approach consists of emancipating ourselves from within France while continuing to prepare for our country’s full sovereignty. This idea reassures us, because we are deeply alienated and some believe that we cannot operate without Franc’’s money. This idea reassures us because we have become accustomed to material and financial comfort. We too are afraid of risking our privileges.
The second consists in severing the toxic relationship with the administering power. To seek support from the UN in structuring our customary organizations and managing our interdependencies with our Pacific allies, in particular our brothers and sisters of Melanesia. It involves drawing upon our collective memory. When the French unilaterally decided on September 24, 1853 to take possession of the country, they found inhabitants who belonged to a civilization more than 3,000 years old that had its own political and social organizations in place. It also involves looking at what is happening in our world. This line of thinking is the hardest for those in power because it forces us to question our capacity for organization, mobilization, and resistance.
Throughout its history, our country has engaged in a process of decolonization, which should concern us all. And it must begin with the question: “What do we need to decolonize?”
Kanaky is much bigger than us. The realm of possibilities is built on our experiments, our experiences, our audacity, and our determination to do things that take us out of our comfort zone. A stateless Kanaky—since this is what I’m invited to reflect on—is a country that reflects our way of thinking about the world. We are all personalities, individuals, but we are part of a collective. This collective, whether it be a family, a community, or a chiefdom must actively contribute to the life of its space (tribe, neighborhood). Putting one’s skills at the service of the common good is not an option, it is a way of being.
Each of the customary areas that make up our country must work on its own organizing. Customary spaces such as clan chief councils, districts, and area councils are spaces that we will increasingly invest in. Working to bring about Kanaky means working on an action plan for the next 25 years. Because, let’s not forget, 25 years is a generation.
Kanaky will be organized at the pace of children. A colossal amount of work will be done on transitional justice. We must work collectively on our traumas so that every citizen can realize that this work on inner peace contributes to the well-being of the people. For example, welcoming newborns through allowing mothers to give birth in their own homes, because obstetric violence is a societal issue. Addressing this issue means ensuring that the vast majority of children are born healthy. Our relationship with our bodies and our spiritual beliefs must no longer be neglected or even denied.
The school system will be rebuilt on the foundations of what remains of Kanak culture. The values of respect, sharing, solidarity, fraternity, and spiritual belief will be instilled in the very organization of the school. Each of the eight customary areas will reorganize so that parents can keep their children until the age of seven to pass on to them what remains of their cultural heritage. Trades and training in the education sector will be overhauled. Children will be educated in line with global issues and their aspirations as future citizens. Cultural nurseries will be set up.
The economic system will no longer be based on a counter economy where the same families gorge themselves and drive the economy, but on a solidarity-based and social economy. All short supply chains will be effective. People will no longer work 39 hours a week, but much less. Exchanges and bartering will be made visible so that this way of conceiving our gifts in customary ceremonies is also established within the framework of public policies within each customary area.
A universal basic income will be introduced to continue educating people about no longer working to enrich capital, but working only for what they need to live with dignity, without excess or privilege, and thus respecting their environment. We will no longer be robots nor exploited by modernity: we will relearn how to live healthily.
Mining in our mountains will no longer exist because schools will teach the new generation about farming, renewable energy, and recycling. Employees in this sector will be retrained and will contribute to the development of new sectors. A central government will be able to take charge of external relations with the Pacific region and all our Melanesian and Polynesian sister countries in terms of exchanges on our improvements in various sectors.
Kanaky’s sovereignty depends on the realization of our aspirations and dreams. Kanaky is a country where children feel safe because adults will have worked to make this possible ■