Last Friday’s assassination of Corsica’s best known and most extreme nationalist figure is being interpreted in some quarters in France as a death knell for its government’s Corsican peace initiative. The situation is undoubtedly fragile. Yesterday’s discovery of two bodies on the island is a worrying indicator that the killing of François Santoni, although almost certainly an inter-terrorist or mafia-contract killing, could unleash a fresh wave of violence, drowning the peace process in its wake.
No one can shed any tears for the slain Santoni. He was the father of Corsican terrorism, with much blood on his hands. But Corsica is a very traditional and clannish society — which is why it is not only France’s Northern Ireland, but also its Sicily, with its own version of the mafia. If Santoni provoked great fear and hatred in some parts of the Corsican community, he also inspired fierce loyalty in others. His followers will want revenge — and they also happen to be the most extreme of Corsican nationalists; they are wedded to violence.
Nonetheless, to see this killing as the end of the peace initiative is melodramatic — and malevolent. Unfortunately, the sad fact is that the French right are quite happy to play party politics with a peace initiative they want to fail. It is constantly rubbished in the right-wing press and by right-wing politicians. President Chirac, who will face socialist Prime Minister Lionel Jospin in next year’s presidential election, senses that he can use Corsica to undermine his opponent’s credibility. He certainly would be able to do so if the peace process comes crashing down as a result of the Santoni assassination.
This is reckless. The fact is that Jospin has taken a serious risk for peace. Corsica has been in flames for years. His is the only serious effort to solve it, and the only one with any chance of succeeding. It is no surprise that there are those who fear the consequences. The offer of autonomy will end the unitary French state and could lead to other French indigenous nationalities — Bretons, Basques, Catalans, Occitanians, Savoyards, Alsatians — demanding the same. But is that such a terrible thing? The experience of Spain, where its Basques and Catalans, as well as Valancians, Andalusians, and others enjoy a degree of autonomy, and of the UK, where the Scots and the Welsh have varying degrees of it, suggests not.
Jospin’s opponents say that in agreeing to limited autonomy for Corsica he has given in to blackmail by a militant minority. Any difficult political situation can be presented in a bad light by those with an ax to grind. But sometimes there are political situations where violence is involved that demand political solutions. Nothing else will work. Northern Ireland is one; Corsica is another.
As public demonstrations have repeatedly shown, the vast bulk of the Corsican population want looser links with France. It is France’s earlier refusal to face up to Corsican alienation that has fuelled support for militancy and the extremists. Jospin understands that. His is a bold and daring attempt to end the violence once and for all and put Corsica’s relationship with the mainland on a sound and sane basis. It would be a tragedy if France were to lose sight of that objective and, in the name of national unity, allow itself lured back toward endless violence.
