ABSTRACT
Ouf! Suddenly the long struggle was over. Léon Maillé, writing in the sixty-fourth issue of GLL (June 1981), described May 10 as follows:
As for many others, this May 10 was memorable. First of all it rained—it even rained a great deal—and after a very dry period. The peasants already had something to celebrate. But would it come out? [va-t-il sortir?] In spite of the rain, no one was thinking about mushrooms, but rather about François, the candidate. We waited for eight o’clock in the evening. Those who had to milk their animals took transistors with them to the milking sheds while the rest of the family was glued to the T.V. A quarter to eight in the evening. “Elkabach [a conservative television reporter] looks sad.” It’s not possible; that means we still have a chance. How long those few minutes before eight were … and then … the boom, the explosion, the cries, the joy, even the tears. Spontaneously, instinctively everyone cried, “We won.” [“On a gagné.”] Those who were milking stopped. “My mouth fell open, I was so surprised,” “Papa” Fabreguette confided to me. In no time at all many peasants found themselves at the farm of L’Hôpital. Everyone embraced, overwhelmed by the news. We celebrated with explosions (of champagne, of course). The telephone rang nonstop. Friends from everywhere (even from Abidjan!) were letting us know how happy they were. We even received a call around nine o’clock from a group so drunk they never managed to tell us who they were…, A little later a cortege of cars formed and set out for Creissels, where our valley friends were already celebrating and dancing the carmagnole [a dance popular during the French Revolution]. As we passed, the doors of the subprefecture changed color, completely redecorated. The dancing continued all night.… When we met the next day, we looked at one another with astonished expressions. We did not dare believe it; we had come out of the tunnel into the light—out of prison into freedom. Ten years of brotherly struggle were worth all this joy!
