On 23 April 2013, the law instituting same-sex marriage in France was definitively voted through. At the time, France could boast that it was still one of the sad pioneers in the field, becoming, with this vote, the 13th country in the world to legalise same-sex unions, the ban having been opened by the Netherlands as early as 2001.
For many weeks, the resistance led by the movement known as La Manif Pour Tous (‘The Demonstration for All’) took to the streets and the media, protesting against a project with destructive anthropological foundations and carrying with it a number of future renunciations: child adoption; medically assisted procreation leading to the institutionalised disappearance of the father; surrogacy. Seen from abroad, the scale of the mobilisation was surprising. For the first time, the streets were invaded not by professional protesters from the Left but by the ‘well-bred France’ portrayed by columnist Gabrielle Cluzel in her eponymous essay (Méfiez-vous de la France bien élevée).
The intensity of the struggle in France was unexpected. The BBC pointed out that, for the first time—even though the French remember 1968 and 1984—the streets had been taken by the Right, which was not usually used to demonstrations of force. According to the British media, the success of La Manif Pour Tous lay in a clever cocktail. While the influence of the Catholic Church, right-wing parties, and traditional forces in French society could be discerned in the background, the success of the movement was due to its skilful communication, which had succeeded in presenting itself as a broad-based and open movement, embracing all walks of life and all persuasions, thanks in particular to the work of the disconcerting muse Frigide Barjot. According to the BBC, the specifically French issue of marriage for all was to be found in the link between civil and religious marriage, which is quite unique in Europe. Unlike in Spain or Italy, for example, in France, a religious marriage in church has no official validity and, above all, cannot be celebrated unless it has been preceded by a civil marriage in due form at the town hall. In return, civil marriage acquires a kind of sacredness that it does not have elsewhere. So for the French, touching it affects an institution that is much more than a mere administrative formality.
An incredibly vigorous mobilisation, but one which, in the opinion of the mainstream foreign press as a whole, has not understood that ‘the world has changed’ and whose fight, therefore, by virtue of a kind of Hegelian logic for dummies, was inherently doomed to failure because it was being waged to reverse the ‘arc of history.’
Dutch model or French-style demonstration for all? This was the alternative that presented itself to other European countries that had not yet entered the progressive spiral of ever more societal rights.
Soon, the Manif Pour Tous movement was being emulated abroad. Other similar organisations sprang up, modelled on the French organisation, initially in Italy and Croatia, two countries with a strong Catholic tradition. For Croatian and Italian activists, it seemed natural to turn to France for advice. In Croatia, the movement chose to call itself ‘In the Name of the Family’ and from the outset set the political stakes high: the inclusion in the Croatian constitution of marriage as the union of a man and a woman. A group of citizens set out to collect signatures to obtain a referendum on the subject, which was held in December 2013. The result was unequivocal: nearly 65% of Croatians voted yes to the question of whether marriage should be defined by the Constitution as “the union between a man and a woman.” The Croatians adopted the emblematic logo of La Manif Pour Tous, depicting a mother and father surrounded by their little family, and Ludovine de La Rochère, who has since become the president of La Manif Pour Tous on the French side, took part in the Croatian referendum campaign. For her part, the president of the Croatian movement came to France and gave lectures.
The same story occurred in Italy, where the French influence was even clearer. The Italian movement was initially called La Manif Pour Tous Italia, while the Italian Senate was working on a law to introduce the ‘crime of homophobia.’ There were frequent exchanges between the French and Italian staff. One of the highlights of the Franco-Italian collaboration was the display in the Piazza del Popolo in the heart of Rome on 24 January 2014, of the famous 600 square metre flag that had accompanied all the French demonstrations as a sign of protest against François Hollande’s visit to Pope Francis in Rome. Opposition to same-sex marriage in Italy grew in strength, culminating on 20 June 2015, in a huge demonstration in Rome attended by a million people. The Catholic core was predominant, but representatives of the Muslim and Jewish communities also joined in. The Italian Catholic hierarchy, however, made no official commitment.
In Germany, local groups began springing up in 2014 to demonstrate against same-sex marriage. The graphic codes were the same as on this side of the border: blue and pink balloons, and the now-famous representation of the white silhouette of the little family on the hoodies that have led so many activists in France to be arrested in a new kind of police profiling. The demonstrators came together under the banner Die Demo für alle. La Manif Pour Tous, German style—the affiliation was once again transparent. Across the Rhine, however, the movement never achieved the same scale as in France or Italy, as it was generally formed in reaction to local legislation at the state level without any real momentum at the federal level. The German organisers made no secret of their admiration for their French counterparts who paved the way. The La Manif Pour Tous model is fascinating: a simple, clear message, a well-honed organisation, and a brand effect that leaves its mark on people’s minds.
The Tyrian pink that has become the emblem of the defence of the family has been exported as far as Finland, with the association Aito Avioliitto, or ‘True Marriage,’ which has also adopted the French logo. Its aim, similar to that of the Croatians, was to organise a citizens’ consultation to obtain the repeal of the law authorising same-sex marriage, and to ensure that marriage is recognised as the exclusive union of a man and a woman. The French watched the fruit of their work with a distant but benevolent eye. The Finnish association signed a flexible cooperation agreement with the French association. “They use our logos, of course, but they carry out their local actions completely independently. We have complete confidence in them, and, what’s more, we don’t have the time to chaperone them,” explained Ludovine de La Rochère at the time.
The network expanded and intensified, and the subsidiaries forged their own links abroad in turn. The German associations exchanged information with Austria, Switzerland, and Poland. Some countries referred to La Manif Pour Tous on their own, while others sought its official endorsement. In all these countries, La Manif Pour Tous was seen as a big sister, a muse, and an inspiration. It has been the creative impetus for crystallising new mobilisations—offering methods, communication, experience, and even an epic story to motivate and encourage.
As Ludovine de La Rochère explained to The European Conservative, the national associations turned to the French Manif Pour Tous for invaluable advice. Firstly, how to mobilise, how to make yourself heard by the public, and how to identify the most effective course of action. The ‘subsidiaries’ of La Manif Pour Tous intend to capitalise on the movement’s reputation, which has astonished and impressed not only in France but perhaps even more so internationally. The notoriety of the French Manif Pour Tous helps fledgling movements be visible to politicians, the media, and public opinion in their own countries. France’s expertise is also sought when it comes to relations with politicians, both elected representatives and institutions. Effective mobilisation requires not only good communication skills but also an in-depth knowledge of the issues being addressed and the workings of the institutions. In addition to ethical and anthropological work, we need to carefully examine the political situation in each country. La Manif Pour Tous, like a consultant, takes part in working meetings abroad designed to adapt the global strategy to national constraints.
The paradox is that the French leaders of La Manif Pour Tous did not first think about the international dimension: the movement’s name, for example, is difficult to export, except to Latin-speaking Italy. But the European extension of the movement against same-sex marriage was inevitable because the offensive against the traditional family is not an isolated or French phenomenon. It is the hobbyhorse of powerful and well-organised lobbies, working relentlessly to change national laws in line with a global agenda defended by both European institutions and the UN, explicitly in favour of institutionalising same-sex marriages. The fact that the LGBT lobbies in various European countries have launched their attacks at the same time is no coincidence. The campaigning associations are responding to specific, stated objectives according to a clearly established timetable and with the help of public funding. The internationalisation of the movement has been matched by the internationalisation of the offensive, and the expansion of the movement’s notoriety has been matched by an expansion of the attacks—which continue to this day, even though La Manif Pour Tous has become a key player in the debate, as evidenced by its observer status at the United Nations.
Today, 27 countries on the continent, including 21 members of the European Union, offer a legal framework for same-sex couples. The fight waged by La Manif Pour Tous and its followers was not enough; such is the power of the steamroller. But the fruits can be seen elsewhere. The changes that La Manif Pour Tous has undergone, extending its fight from same-sex marriage to medically assisted reproduction and then to surrogate motherhood, also concern the movement’s European counterparts, who have broadened the spectrum of their struggles. The issue of civil recognition of homosexual unions is just one piece of a larger jigsaw, as homosexual propaganda continues to spread into other areas, particularly schools, and feeds into the teaching of gender theory.
In Austria, there is now talk of a ‘March for the Family’ (Marsch für die Familie), and its participants are calling for a Hungarian-style policy in which the state is the primary guarantor of the traditional family. In Italy, the arrival in government of the right-wing coalition led by Giorgia Meloni has resulted in a fight against the recognition of children born through surrogacy, proving that it is ultimately possible to achieve political results on socially conservative issues.
Published with the kind permission of L’Incorrect for the French version.
La Manif Pour Tous: A European Model
Photo: FRANCOIS GUILLOT / AFP
On 23 April 2013, the law instituting same-sex marriage in France was definitively voted through. At the time, France could boast that it was still one of the sad pioneers in the field, becoming, with this vote, the 13th country in the world to legalise same-sex unions, the ban having been opened by the Netherlands as early as 2001.
For many weeks, the resistance led by the movement known as La Manif Pour Tous (‘The Demonstration for All’) took to the streets and the media, protesting against a project with destructive anthropological foundations and carrying with it a number of future renunciations: child adoption; medically assisted procreation leading to the institutionalised disappearance of the father; surrogacy. Seen from abroad, the scale of the mobilisation was surprising. For the first time, the streets were invaded not by professional protesters from the Left but by the ‘well-bred France’ portrayed by columnist Gabrielle Cluzel in her eponymous essay (Méfiez-vous de la France bien élevée).
The intensity of the struggle in France was unexpected. The BBC pointed out that, for the first time—even though the French remember 1968 and 1984—the streets had been taken by the Right, which was not usually used to demonstrations of force. According to the British media, the success of La Manif Pour Tous lay in a clever cocktail. While the influence of the Catholic Church, right-wing parties, and traditional forces in French society could be discerned in the background, the success of the movement was due to its skilful communication, which had succeeded in presenting itself as a broad-based and open movement, embracing all walks of life and all persuasions, thanks in particular to the work of the disconcerting muse Frigide Barjot. According to the BBC, the specifically French issue of marriage for all was to be found in the link between civil and religious marriage, which is quite unique in Europe. Unlike in Spain or Italy, for example, in France, a religious marriage in church has no official validity and, above all, cannot be celebrated unless it has been preceded by a civil marriage in due form at the town hall. In return, civil marriage acquires a kind of sacredness that it does not have elsewhere. So for the French, touching it affects an institution that is much more than a mere administrative formality.
An incredibly vigorous mobilisation, but one which, in the opinion of the mainstream foreign press as a whole, has not understood that ‘the world has changed’ and whose fight, therefore, by virtue of a kind of Hegelian logic for dummies, was inherently doomed to failure because it was being waged to reverse the ‘arc of history.’
Dutch model or French-style demonstration for all? This was the alternative that presented itself to other European countries that had not yet entered the progressive spiral of ever more societal rights.
Soon, the Manif Pour Tous movement was being emulated abroad. Other similar organisations sprang up, modelled on the French organisation, initially in Italy and Croatia, two countries with a strong Catholic tradition. For Croatian and Italian activists, it seemed natural to turn to France for advice. In Croatia, the movement chose to call itself ‘In the Name of the Family’ and from the outset set the political stakes high: the inclusion in the Croatian constitution of marriage as the union of a man and a woman. A group of citizens set out to collect signatures to obtain a referendum on the subject, which was held in December 2013. The result was unequivocal: nearly 65% of Croatians voted yes to the question of whether marriage should be defined by the Constitution as “the union between a man and a woman.” The Croatians adopted the emblematic logo of La Manif Pour Tous, depicting a mother and father surrounded by their little family, and Ludovine de La Rochère, who has since become the president of La Manif Pour Tous on the French side, took part in the Croatian referendum campaign. For her part, the president of the Croatian movement came to France and gave lectures.
The same story occurred in Italy, where the French influence was even clearer. The Italian movement was initially called La Manif Pour Tous Italia, while the Italian Senate was working on a law to introduce the ‘crime of homophobia.’ There were frequent exchanges between the French and Italian staff. One of the highlights of the Franco-Italian collaboration was the display in the Piazza del Popolo in the heart of Rome on 24 January 2014, of the famous 600 square metre flag that had accompanied all the French demonstrations as a sign of protest against François Hollande’s visit to Pope Francis in Rome. Opposition to same-sex marriage in Italy grew in strength, culminating on 20 June 2015, in a huge demonstration in Rome attended by a million people. The Catholic core was predominant, but representatives of the Muslim and Jewish communities also joined in. The Italian Catholic hierarchy, however, made no official commitment.
In Germany, local groups began springing up in 2014 to demonstrate against same-sex marriage. The graphic codes were the same as on this side of the border: blue and pink balloons, and the now-famous representation of the white silhouette of the little family on the hoodies that have led so many activists in France to be arrested in a new kind of police profiling. The demonstrators came together under the banner Die Demo für alle. La Manif Pour Tous, German style—the affiliation was once again transparent. Across the Rhine, however, the movement never achieved the same scale as in France or Italy, as it was generally formed in reaction to local legislation at the state level without any real momentum at the federal level. The German organisers made no secret of their admiration for their French counterparts who paved the way. The La Manif Pour Tous model is fascinating: a simple, clear message, a well-honed organisation, and a brand effect that leaves its mark on people’s minds.
The Tyrian pink that has become the emblem of the defence of the family has been exported as far as Finland, with the association Aito Avioliitto, or ‘True Marriage,’ which has also adopted the French logo. Its aim, similar to that of the Croatians, was to organise a citizens’ consultation to obtain the repeal of the law authorising same-sex marriage, and to ensure that marriage is recognised as the exclusive union of a man and a woman. The French watched the fruit of their work with a distant but benevolent eye. The Finnish association signed a flexible cooperation agreement with the French association. “They use our logos, of course, but they carry out their local actions completely independently. We have complete confidence in them, and, what’s more, we don’t have the time to chaperone them,” explained Ludovine de La Rochère at the time.
The network expanded and intensified, and the subsidiaries forged their own links abroad in turn. The German associations exchanged information with Austria, Switzerland, and Poland. Some countries referred to La Manif Pour Tous on their own, while others sought its official endorsement. In all these countries, La Manif Pour Tous was seen as a big sister, a muse, and an inspiration. It has been the creative impetus for crystallising new mobilisations—offering methods, communication, experience, and even an epic story to motivate and encourage.
As Ludovine de La Rochère explained to The European Conservative, the national associations turned to the French Manif Pour Tous for invaluable advice. Firstly, how to mobilise, how to make yourself heard by the public, and how to identify the most effective course of action. The ‘subsidiaries’ of La Manif Pour Tous intend to capitalise on the movement’s reputation, which has astonished and impressed not only in France but perhaps even more so internationally. The notoriety of the French Manif Pour Tous helps fledgling movements be visible to politicians, the media, and public opinion in their own countries. France’s expertise is also sought when it comes to relations with politicians, both elected representatives and institutions. Effective mobilisation requires not only good communication skills but also an in-depth knowledge of the issues being addressed and the workings of the institutions. In addition to ethical and anthropological work, we need to carefully examine the political situation in each country. La Manif Pour Tous, like a consultant, takes part in working meetings abroad designed to adapt the global strategy to national constraints.
The paradox is that the French leaders of La Manif Pour Tous did not first think about the international dimension: the movement’s name, for example, is difficult to export, except to Latin-speaking Italy. But the European extension of the movement against same-sex marriage was inevitable because the offensive against the traditional family is not an isolated or French phenomenon. It is the hobbyhorse of powerful and well-organised lobbies, working relentlessly to change national laws in line with a global agenda defended by both European institutions and the UN, explicitly in favour of institutionalising same-sex marriages. The fact that the LGBT lobbies in various European countries have launched their attacks at the same time is no coincidence. The campaigning associations are responding to specific, stated objectives according to a clearly established timetable and with the help of public funding. The internationalisation of the movement has been matched by the internationalisation of the offensive, and the expansion of the movement’s notoriety has been matched by an expansion of the attacks—which continue to this day, even though La Manif Pour Tous has become a key player in the debate, as evidenced by its observer status at the United Nations.
Today, 27 countries on the continent, including 21 members of the European Union, offer a legal framework for same-sex couples. The fight waged by La Manif Pour Tous and its followers was not enough; such is the power of the steamroller. But the fruits can be seen elsewhere. The changes that La Manif Pour Tous has undergone, extending its fight from same-sex marriage to medically assisted reproduction and then to surrogate motherhood, also concern the movement’s European counterparts, who have broadened the spectrum of their struggles. The issue of civil recognition of homosexual unions is just one piece of a larger jigsaw, as homosexual propaganda continues to spread into other areas, particularly schools, and feeds into the teaching of gender theory.
In Austria, there is now talk of a ‘March for the Family’ (Marsch für die Familie), and its participants are calling for a Hungarian-style policy in which the state is the primary guarantor of the traditional family. In Italy, the arrival in government of the right-wing coalition led by Giorgia Meloni has resulted in a fight against the recognition of children born through surrogacy, proving that it is ultimately possible to achieve political results on socially conservative issues.
Published with the kind permission of L’Incorrect for the French version.
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