Born to naturist and libertarian parents, I discovered the situationists in 1967, and after that, council communism. That's how I entered this ‘milieu’ that I would later call the outré-left, for no existing term seemed to capture all its components.
It was in this context that, in 1978, a friend introduced me to my new partner. Both were involved in the Échanges et Mouvement collective, which they quickly brought me into and where I immediately felt at home. Their anti-work stance, emphasis on wildcat strikes and rejection of the organisation of struggles were also my views.
And then, it wasn't a political group where you had to adhere to a unanimous position. Everyone could have their own activities and affinities. Until 2008, mine were shared with the small circle gathered in Marseille around the journal Théorie Communiste. On the other hand, the principle defended in particular by Henri Simon affirmed that Échanges et Mouvement was an international network whose vocation was to make known the struggles of the whole world and neither had nor published a theory. However, it seemed to me that this was indeed a theoretical position based on the idea of the revolutionary nature of the proletariat and of class struggle manifesting itself in the balance of power, workers' action, strikes, sabotage, etc. This seemed to me to be a limited approach, one that tended to mask the fact that, at a deeper level, class struggle is the dynamic of a relationship between two antagonistic classes that only exist through each other.
Apart from a few sporadic appearances by Anne Simon, I was the only woman, and the cockfights were in full swing. As were the attempts to take over Échanges. For example, on that ‘historic’ day when one of the participants suggested that we ‘equalise salaries’ among ourselves. I warmly agreed, pointing out that it was very convenient: I was doing a dirty job for which I was not qualified, while he, who had the appropriate qualifications, would be paid much better. So he would do my job while I would work with a clear conscience at the bottom of the ladder, and we would all win. And so the debate was closed.
Nevertheless, it was fascinating to see stories of struggles from all corners of the planet, whose forms and contours converged towards revolutionary spontaneity. They were discussed at meetings, published and chronicled in magazines and several books. The formal and informal meetings with comrades from Italy, Holland, the United States and elsewhere were also fascinating. I ended up ironically declaring one day that Échanges was above all a superb travel agency. How obnoxious I was being can be judged by the fact that I still have friendships in the United States that date back to that time and, above all, that Échanges was subsequently involved in the organisation of international summer camps for almost 20 years, bringing together friends from all walks of life: from China to New Zealand, via Brazil, Tunisia, Egypt, the USA, Poland, Slovenia and almost every European country. In 2011, I joined these ‘summer camps’, which had been held almost every year since 2003.
But we hadn't reached that stage at the beginning of 1980, when a large meeting of French, English, Italian, German, Dutch and other groups and individuals was organised in Paris. This meeting ended in a violent confrontation between Théorie Communiste and the ‘Échanges’ group. Henri Simon describes it (in issue 22 of the magazine) as one of ‘two conceptions of revolution: a brutal rupture and a starting point for a transformation of the world’ (what would later become the theory of communisation) vs. ‘a revolutionary process over a long period of time, in which violent episodes are more terms than starting points’.
One amusing anecdote from these heated debates remains engraved in my memory: two men, one from Échanges and the other from Théorie communiste, were shouting at each other, ready to come to blows. A little boy who had come from Italy with his parents and who didn't understand a word of French asked his mother: ‘Why is the man shouting? What is he asking the other man?’ His mother replied: ‘He's asking him: what is revolution? Go on, tell me! And the little boy: ‘Why doesn't he want to tell him, is it a secret?’
At that time, one of these men was my companion, the other my comrade and the two were friends. But I very nearly left the said companion that day to preserve my political coherence. It was not a time for tenderness!
What happened next is less amusing. Échanges was starting to fall apart. Then along came a formidable economist who began to apply his ‘science’, giving the struggles a mechanical and rigid character, in reality aspiring to organise them, which was unbearable for us. That was why the three of us decided to leave.
However, our paths continued to cross and the relationship with Échanges continues to this day. So it was definitely worth it.