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French South Pacific Policy 1981-1996
by Dr W. S. McCallum © 1996
4. French Polynesia
Territorial Assembly, Papeete
W.S. McCallum
[The isles of] French Polynesia are not only vahines, coconut trees and beaches... [French] Polynesia is also, unfortunately, unemployment, skyrocketing price rises, juvenile delinquency and housing problems [...].
Gaston Flosse, Deputy for East French Polynesia, addressing the National Assembly, June 1980.[i]
Paradise's Problems
The stereotype of Tahiti as a South Seas paradise, much cherished still in metropolitan France and elsewhere, stands as one of the greatest psychological barriers to understanding contemporary French Polynesia's socio-economic difficulties. The eighteenth century voyage to Tahiti by the French explorer Bougainville, and the related essays of his philosophical interpreters Rousseau and Diderot, have exercised a powerful influence on the French imagination. Their contemporaries' anachronistic notion of Tahiti as an idyllic tropical paradise, inhabited by free-spirited noble savages communing with nature, is one that persists two centuries later, as a perusal of any relevant tourist brochure, French or more generally Western, will illustrate. While in the early 1980s few in metropolitan France had any great awareness either of New Caledonia or of French Polynesia,[ii] the minority who knew anything of French Polynesia were likely to have their knowledge based on the myth of a paradisiacal Tahiti and would have found it difficult to believe that there could be much trouble in that supposed paradise.[iii] As can be perceived from Flosse's observation above, the strength of this paradise myth was such that it had to be ritually debunked in France in the highest quarters.
Romantic myths surrounding French Polynesia persisted into the 1980s. Apart from sporadic and sometimes inaccurate press coverage, few readily accessible sources of information existed through which an interested metropolitan French citizen might gain insights into the contemporary situation of the territory. The bulk of French books relating to French Polynesia concerned anthropology, French exploration and colonisation in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, or the work of celebrated artistic residents like Paul Gauguin. Compared with the number of works published in the 1980s on New Caledonia's political evolution, little appeared on the situation of French Polynesia.[iv] Although in October 1987 metropolitan French press accounts of a Papeete riot, looting, and the declaration of a state of emergency on Tahiti brought about the spread of the realisation in Paris that all was not well there, French Polynesian socio-economic problems were not subjected to the same level of public scrutiny and political debate in metropolitan France as the New Caledonian troubles were in the 1980s.
An awareness of the issues facing French Polynesia necessarily existed in the offices of the Ministry of the DOM-TOM in the rue Oudinot and among the leadership of the major French political parties. As Minister of the DOM-TOM, Bernard Pons was questioned in the National Assembly on the cause of the riot and looting in October 1987 and admitted that the incident was a symptom of increasing social problems.[v] A labour dispute between the port authority and dockers had escalated out of control, presenting to the poorer Polynesian residents of Papeete the opportunity to ransack the central business district. In the 1970s, thanks to economic prosperity encouraged by the presence of the nuclear testing programme, there had been almost full employment for those living outside subsistence tribal economies, but this circumstance was short-lived. The unemployment rate among those considered to be past or present members of the paid workforce was 3.8% in 1977. Population increase resulted in an increasing imbalance between the number of young locals entering the employment market and the number of jobs available. By 1983, the general unemployment rate was 11.2%. By 1988 11,430 people were jobless, the equivalent of 15% of the territorial workforce.[vi] Polynesians, who constituted the least qualified segment of the population, were the ethnic group worst affected by unemployment. In 1988 the Polynesian unemployment rate was 10.5%, compared to 3.1% among local Europeans. Around 80% of the total number of unemployed were Polynesians aged from 15 to 34 years of age.[vii] Earlier, in May 1987, Pons had reacted to the plight of the Tahitian poor by touring some of Papeete's "insalubrious neighbourhoods",[viii] although the reform prescriptions he proposed were inadequate to forestall the looting and destruction of the October riot. PS leaders, from Mitterrand down,[ix] had similarly shown an awareness of the social problems to be found in French Polynesia without having introduced reforms capable of overcoming them.
Since the arrival at Papeete in March 1962 of the advance guard of the testing programme, all aspects of territorial administration had been subordinated to the establishment and running of the CEP, which was instrumental in transforming the local economy. The advent of the CEP, accompanied by an influx of state capital, and increased employment opportunities for French Polynesians, resulted in an unprecedented level of territorial economic prosperity. But this event also aggravated social inequalities and economic imbalances in French Polynesia. Ongoing government support for nuclear deterrence acted as a barrier to the resolution of the socio-economic problems stemming from the presence of the CEP. In the absence of any willingness to remove the CEP, ministers in Paris were incapable of significantly diminishing the disparities created by its presence.
In the 1980s there was no ideological debate concerning French Polynesia between the PS, the UDF and the RPR over the application or validity of concepts such as 'French colonialism' or 'indigenous liberation' as there was with New Caledonia. Partly this difference was due to the absence of a substantial local Polynesian nationalist party pushing for self-determination, although party political considerations in Paris should not be ignored. While actively exercising their acceptance of the maintenance and modernisation of the French nuclear deterrent, Socialist Governments in the 1980s felt disinclined to address the detrimental socio-economic consequences of the presence of the CEP, or decolonisation issues as they might concern French Polynesia. At variance with their willingness to proclaim the deleterious heritage of French colonialism in New Caledonia, they avoided applying such debate to French Polynesia. Socialist talk of self-determination issues outside the New Caledonian context might have encouraged Polynesian nationalist political agitation which could have posed a threat to the activities of the CEP. France had already been constrained to relocate its nuclear testing facilities from Reggane in the Sahara after Algeria became independent.[x] A repeat performance in French Polynesia would have been far from desirable.
To understand the political issues which faced French Governments from 1981 to 1996, it is necessary to examine the combination of developments, notably the defeat of indigenous nationalism in the 1950s, and the installation of the French nuclear testing programme, which determined the political landscape of the territory in the 1980s and 1990s. The necessarily brief overview which occupies the rest of this section covers the islands' economic, social and political history from 1945 to 1980 and offers a backdrop to the reform and development efforts of French Governments since 1981.
Although with regard to the careers of their indigenous nationalist movements, the experiences of French Polynesia and New Caledonia differed, the histories of these two TOM since World War II do offer points of comparison. A number of parallels can be drawn in the institutional evolution of the two territories from 1946 until the late 1970s, particularly in the fields of party politics and statute reform. From 1945 to 1981 both territories became more economically and administratively dependent on metropolitan France.
In October 1946 French Polynesia, until then known as the Etablissements français de l'Océanie, became a TOM at the same time as New Caledonia. The arrival of the UC on the New Caledonian political scene in the 1950s was concurrent with the beginning of Tahitian party politics in the years immediately following World War II. Central to this latter development was Pouvanaa a Oopa, a charismatic demi or half-caste who had fought for France in World War I, worked as a blacksmith in Papeete, and founded the first Tahitian political party.[xi] The year after his election as a Deputy in the National Assembly in 1949, Pouvanaa founded the RDPT. Initially the RDPT was, like the UC in the 1950s, a reformist party which aimed to further local autonomy under the Fourth Republic. Unlike the UC, which worked to improve the lot of both indigenous and non-indigenous inhabitants, the RDPT specifically promoted the interests of the indigenous population. The RDPT received some encouragement on 22 July 1957, when after bureaucratic delays, the 'loi-cadre Defferre' was applied to the territory, a year after its application in the other TOM. The law created a Government Council elected by members of the Territorial Assembly, although the French Governor presided over the body and had power of veto over its decisions. Of more lasting significance was the reform which five days later gave the territory a new name: "Polynésie française".[xii]
Far from all of the French Polynesians were content to stay French. By 1958 the more radical members of the RDPT, including Pouvanaa, had become dissatisfied with the Defferre law because under it the Governor retained executive control of the territory, and because the Government Council was deemed too restricted in its powers. Pouvanaa and his followers abandoned the notion of promoting reform within the French Republic and advocated the foundation of an independent Tahitian Republic. The RDPT split over the question of sovereignty. Certain RDPT members who opposed independence sided with the UTD-UNR, the local conservative coalition formed in 1958, and campaigned for a 'yes' vote in the September 1958 referendum on adherence to the fledgling French Republic. French Polynesia was the only part of the French Pacific which gave the option of independence substantial, if minority, backing. Whereas in New Caledonia in September 1958, and in Wallis and Futuna in December 1959, 2% and 6% of valid votes respectively were for independence, in French Polynesia, the pro-independence total amounted to 36%.[xiii] The French Polynesian pro-independence vote of September 1958 constituted a percentile level of support slightly greater, for example, than the combined percentage of the vote obtained by Kanak parties in the New Caledonian regional elections of September 1985. (Table 7)
The advent of the Fifth Republic posed setbacks for the RDPT, as it did for the UC. Neither party fared well in the face of hostile Gaullist governments in Paris. De Gaulle was far less sympathetic to the RDPT than he was to the more moderate UC. The nationalist movement founded by Pouvanaa declined following his controversial conviction on circumstantial evidence on 28 October 1959, supposedly for inciting insurrection.[xiv] His sentence of eight years in prison in metropolitan France and 15 years banishment from French Polynesia decapitated the RDPT and left its members divided over whether to persist in advocating sovereignty or to moderate the party line. Pouvanaa was released from prison in February 1966 and was not permitted to return to French Polynesia until de Gaulle had lifted his expulsion order in November 1968. The parallel between Pouvanaa's falling foul of the law and the experience of Maurice Lenormand, the leader of the UC, was striking. In 1963 Lenormand had his civil rights removed for five years and he received a suspended sentence of one year's imprisonment for alleged involvement in a bombing of the UC's headquarters in April 1958.[xv] As in the case of Pouvanaa, what possible motive Lenormand could have had for committing the act of which he was presumed to be guilty remains puzzling. Was it mere coincidence that these two opponents to Gaullist rule in the French Pacific found themselves convicted on dubious evidence? Whether or not his imprisonment was just, the removal of Pouvanaa from the political scene after the loss of the 1958 referendum marked a major setback for Polynesian nationalism. Although the RDPT and its successors subsequently demanded further self-determination votes for French Polynesia, none were forthcoming owing to the electoral decline of the nationalist vote.
As in New Caledonia, the 1960s and early 1970s entailed an expansion of state control in French Polynesia and an accompanying reduction of the powers of the territorial administration, although the precise forms this reduction assumed in French Polynesia differed from the New Caledonian context. Territorial revenue for French Polynesia, drawn mainly from import tariffs and company taxes in the absence of any personal income tax, dropped in the first years of the Fifth Republic. This trend occurred because of both a decline in local agricultural production, and the exhaustion in 1966 of a major export earner, phosphate from Makatea Island.[xvi] Faced with declining revenues and finding itself with inadequate funds to run its own services, the territory was constrained to cede to the French State control of its post and telecommunications in 1960, followed by secondary education and vocational training in 1963, and sections of its health service in 1968.[xvii] The reform of French Polynesian communal administration in 1971 and 1972 reduced further territorial authority and revenues. The five communes in French Polynesia were expanded to a territory-wide network of 45 communes, administered according to metropolitan French law. The territory found itself in the position of having to pass 25% of its revenue to the communes, and lost some of its previous administrative influence over the scattered outer islands. Previously, territorial representatives had exercised influence over the creation of new communes. The establishment and administration of this new network fell under state control.[xviii]
French Polynesia found itself host to the CEP from July 1963, when Governor Aimé Grimald authorised its presence in the territory by decree.[xix] In February 1964, Grimald gained the assent of the territorial Permanent Commission to pass control of the atolls of Moruroa and Fangataufa to the CEP for its nuclear tests.[xx] This consultation did not necessarily imply majority Polynesian support for use of the atolls, the Permanent Commission being a group of five Territorial Councillors who represented the Territorial Assembly between sessions.[xxi] Oddly, although autonomists held three of the seats on the Commission, there was a majority vote in support of ceding control of the atolls.
The economic effects of the installation of the CEP were felt rapidly. By 1964, CEP expenditure in French Polynesia had become four times the size of the territorial budget.[xxii] Total French military activity in the islands had amounted to 5% of GDP in 1961, before the arrival of the CEP. By 1966, CEP and related military activities accounted for 76% of the greatly expanded French Polynesian GDP.[xxiii] 1966 represented the peak of this trend. From that year, although the total expenditure of the CEP and the military steadily rose, as a percentage of GDP it declined. This percentile fall reflected lower military expenditure after the construction of the facilities necessary for the test programme, and growth in the tertiary sector of the French Polynesian economy. In 1971, the figure represented 33% of GDP. By 1980, it had declined further, to 21%.[xxiv]
French Polynesia's already declining agricultural production diminished further as the presence of the CEP created job opportunities for local Polynesians in the secondary and tertiary sectors. Commercial copra production, the main territorial export after phosphate until 1966, fell from more than 25,000t in 1964 to 7,500t by 1968.[xxv] Here the installation of the CEP was not the sole factor in the decline the falling number of available workers for harvesting coincided with falling market prices, not only for copra, but also for vanilla. By 1980 in real terms French Polynesian copra exports were worth half as much as their 1970 market value. Vanilla production fell from 28t in 1970 to under 2t 12 years later, and its value declined from 47MF CFP to 13MF CFP.[xxvi] Overall, French Polynesian agricultural exports declined in tonnage from the early 1960s. In 1960, they amounted to 24,365t. By 1980 the total was 11,910t.[xxvii] Production in some areas ceased altogether in this period. Commercial coffee production came to an end in 1964, as did that of coconut by-products. Some diversification of agricultural exports occurred, although it was not of great importance. Fresh fruit exports, for which no details were listed before 1973, fell from 149t that year to 93t in 1980.[xxviii]
Aquaculture constituted a growth sector for the French Polynesian economy from the 1970s, but was of far less importance than revenue received as a result of the CEP's presence. In the 1960s, the future of aquaculture did not look promising. At that time mother-of-pearl had been the only important export derived from territorial waters, and its production was also affected by the same factors that lay behind the decline in agricultural production.[xxix] Shell exports collapsed from 645t in 1960 to 9t by 1981.[xxx] This decline was compensated for by the rapid expansion in pearl exports. In 1972, when the first record of significant exports was made, pearls accounted for 1.56kg. By 1981 total pearl exports were 86.53kg.[xxxi] Pearls represented the only export success of the period. Otherwise by 1981 local commercial exploitation of territorial maritime resources was minimal. As in the other Pacific TOM, local fishing operations were small-scale and devoted to local consumption, while deep sea fishing was the domain of foreign trawlers operating on fishing licenses from the Territorial Government.
The demographic effect of the installation of the CEP was to draw workers and their families to Papeete. Dockers were required to handle cargo shipped to Moruroa via Papeete, and civilian staff were needed to build, clean and maintain new facilities for CEP employees. The town and adjacent centres (Pirae, Fa'aa, Arue and Maina) experienced rapid population growth while most islands in the territory experienced a decline in working population. Greater Papeete had 36,514 inhabitants in 1962.[xxxii] Fifteen years later, this population had exceeded 78,000.[xxxiii] By 1977 residents in this urban conglomeration represented 83% of the population of Tahiti, and 57% of the total French Polynesian population.[xxxiv] Other arrivals, personnel for the test programme and its various support services, came from further afield than the outer islands. As in New Caledonia during its nickel boom, European immigration also occurred during the French Polynesian period of economic expansion. In 1962 there were around 2,500 Europeans working on Tahiti. By 1971, there were around 7,500.[xxxv] Immigration from the 1960s did not tilt the ethnic balance in French Polynesia to the extent that it did in New Caledonia. Although defining ethnic origin in French Polynesia was more problematic than in New Caledonia due to the high degree of interethnic mixing in the former, official figures listed full Polynesians as representing 65.63% of the territory's population in 1977. Among others, full Europeans accounted for 11.14%, and full Asians for 5.36% The remainder were demis of mixed ethnic origins.[xxxvi]
While the indigenous population of French Polynesia had not lost its demographic preponderance as New Caledonian Melanesians had, Polynesians had became socially and economically marginalised. The decline of the rural economy had eroded the value of traditional skills. Urban living on Tahiti gave rise to a cash-based consumer lifestyle which was novel to the bulk of the indigenous population. Moreover the Polynesian ability to succeed in this consumer society was lower than that of other ethnic groups. Polynesians looking for work in Papeete found their career options restricted by their limited French education and, frequently, by their lack of fluency in French.[xxxvii] Management positions in the secondary and tertiary sectors tended to be the domain of metropolitan French, Asians or demis, with Asians notable for their success in business.[xxxviii] In 1988, these groups were disproportionately highly represented in management posts in the secondary and tertiary sectors. Europeans were the principal income earners for around 20% of the total number of households that year. However this 20% comprised 72.9% of households depending on income from people employed in liberal professions, 42.6% from those in middle management positions, and 27.3% of incomes from businesspeople and company directors. Conversely, while full Polynesians were the principal income earners for 58% of the number of households in the territory, they represented 81.7% of households depending on agriculture as the main source of income, 36.5% in the field of artisanry, and only 10% of households for which employment in liberal or management posts offered the main source of income.[xxxix]
While average GDP per capita rose from 7,684FF in 1960 to 51,370FF in 1980,[xl] there was no evidence to suggest that the benefits of economic prosperity were more evenly spread among French Polynesians than they had been prior to the arrival of the CEP. In 1981 workers on the minimum wage received ten times less than upper management civil servants, while agricultural workers and fishermen received 15 times less.[xli] Polynesians who had relocated to greater Papeete were not as likely as demis or people of non-indigenous origins to enjoy the economic prosperity that the CEP induced in the secondary and tertiary sectors. Those who found work tended to be manual labourers on comparatively low pay, while Polynesian unemployed were forced to live a humble existence in shanty towns on the outskirts of Papeete, a town in the centre of which real estate prices came to exceed those of the Champs Elysées.[xlii] The lives of these urban Polynesians were far removed from the tropical Rousseauist idyll that their ancestors supposedly enjoyed. Those who remained in the outer islands faced an economic downturn which forced agricultural activity back to subsistence levels. This return to nature would not necessarily have been as spiritually uplifting for a struggling Polynesian agriculturalist as it might have been for an adept of Rousseau.
From 1962 to 1980, the primary sector workforce dropped from 46% of paid labour to 15%. The secondary sector dropped from 19% to 16%, while the tertiary sector rose from 35% to 67%.[xliii] Within this workforce employees of the State and local government held important albeit minority status. In 1977, out of a working population of 42,868, 29,266 were in private sector employment, while 13,537 (31.57%) were in the public sector.[xliv] This distribution was different from the work sector balance in Wallis and Futuna, a sign of the importance of local commerce, and of the existence of a level of light industry and manufacturing which were absent in Mata Utu.
Tourism was far more developed in French Polynesia than in Wallis and Futuna by the early 1980s. The opening of an international airport at Fa'aa in October 1960[xlv] had broken down territorial isolation and enabled easier access for tourists, who had previously arrived by boat. Just before the CEP engulfed the territorial economy, tourism had expanded to become the largest economic sector by income in French Polynesia by 1964.[xlvi] Tourist arrivals increased from around 700 in 1957 to nearly 30,000 by 1968, and 84,615 by 1974.[xlvii] The territory's trump card was its global reputation as a South Seas paradise, but tourism was not without its difficulties. A stay in paradise was expensive. Travellers were discouraged by astronomical prices in Tahiti,[xlviii] the consequence of a society largely dependent on imported goods, and of its distance from affluent northern hemisphere countries. These factors posed psychological and economic barriers even in the age of jet travel.
Although the Eighth Plan for the DOM-TOM had presented high official hopes for tourism development at the end of the 1970s, a gap between expectation and reality had already developed by that stage. The Sixth Plan for the DOM-TOM (1971-1975) enthusiastically projected that by 1975, tourism growth would be such that 7,000 hotel rooms would be available, workers in the tourist sector would number over 7,000, and 240,000 tourist arrivals would take place annually.[xlix] In 1975 these targets were far from attainment hotel rooms numbered a little over 2,000, there were fewer than 2,000 people working in the tourism 'industry', and tourist arrivals that year numbered 88,959.[l] Although not living up to the excessive optimism of the Planning Commission in the 1970s, tourism was an expanding area of the territorial economy, and the Eighth Plan continued to view it optimistically.
For the islands the 1960s and 1970s involved years of growing financial as well as administrative dependence on metropolitan France. With the arrival of the CEP came an influx of several thousand metropolitan French scientists, military and general support personnel who expected the same consumer lifestyle as they were used to in Europe. The number of small businesses in Papeete expanded rapidly to soak up the disposable incomes of CEP employees, and those of the locals privileged to be a part of the new economic prosperity. From 1963 to 1965, the number of retail outlets in Papeete rose from 359 to 559.[li] Consumer goods were imported in far greater numbers than had been the case at the beginning of the 1960s. The value of imported mechanical and electrical goods alone increased from 437MF CFP in 1960 to 9,098MF CFP by 1968.[lii] Imported foods rose from 445MF CFP in value in 1960 to 2,381MF CFP in 1968.[liii]
These imports, along with all the construction materials imported for CEP facilities and new housing in the territory, helped finance the territorial administration. Even before the arrival of the CEP, in the absence of personal income tax, import tariffs had been the main revenue earner for the territorial administration. In 1979 Flosse pithily and accurately characterised the relation between increased imports and the territorial government's fiscal health: "Here, the more you import, the better your comportment."[liv] Although the availability of imported goods stifled local production, raised retail prices and contributed to generally increased living costs, tariffs on those products represented a funding lifeline that territorial politicians were reluctant to sever for want of any other politically acceptable means of raising territorial revenue. As in New Caledonia, personal income tax was the bête noire of local salary earners, and had been traditionally despised by them as an infringement of personal liberty. Any territorial administration which dared impose it faced tumultuous opposition from business interests. A proposal made by Pouvanaa in 1957 to introduce a graduated income tax scheme was one of the developments which had brought about the mobilisation of a conservative front against him in the last months of the Fourth Republic.[lv]
French Polynesia was far from self-sufficient before the arrival of the CEP; it has become more dependent since then. In particular the ongoing decline of local agriculture left its mark. In 1960, the territory imported 37.0% of its food requirements. Twenty years later, it was importing 51.5% of its food.[lvi] Increased food demands, along with those for consumer goods and construction materials, caused the coverage rate of imports by exports to slide dramatically from 83.0% in 1960 to 24.0% in 1980.[lvii] The greater part of French Polynesian external trade stayed with France. In 1980, 47.6% of territorial imports originated from France, which received 69.6% of French Polynesian exports.[lviii] Assuming it was possible, the trade integration with the Pacific region stressed by the Eighth Plan stood at best as a distant prospect. Products from Australia, New Zealand and Japan accounted for 11.9% of territorial imports in 1980, while products from various other countries in the region were included in the 4.8% of imports categorised as coming from "other countries".[lix]
Although the foundation of the CEP brought about an influx of metropolitan French funds and encouraged prosperity, it brought with it various troubles. In the late 1970s, French Polynesia displayed all the traits of dependence outlined in the Eighth Plan for the DOM-TOM declining territorial self-sufficiency in food, an absence of productive diversity in agriculture and light industry, an external trade balance tilted towards a high level of French imports and exports, and low levels of trade with nations in the Pacific basin. This was the situation as Giscard d'Estaing had inherited it in 1974, and it was unchanged when Mitterrand assumed the presidency in 1981.
The nascent local nationalist movement in French Polynesia saw the prospects of independence recede under the Fifth Republic. The islands' economic fortunes became more tightly linked with France through the continued presence of the French military and their nuclear programme. Local Polynesian autonomists remained hostile to the nuclear presence in their territory, but they realised that should the CEP ever cut back or halt its testing activities, the effects could be detrimental to French Polynesia's economic well-being. The increased French presence had a politically stifling effect on the local independence movement both because the territorial economy had become increasingly dependent on the State and because the CEP had created an era of financial prosperity for French Polynesia. The message that continued ties with France were beneficial for local Polynesians was easier to promote as a result. Consequently, electoral support for independence faded by the early 1970s, when an autonomist coalition government lost power to a coalition of Gaullists and independents.[lx]
Campaigning by the RDPT for autonomy had been cut short by de Gaulle's dissolution of the party. The Journal Officiel of 6 November 1963 carried a decree of the Council of Ministers, signed by de Gaulle, and Prime Minister Georges Pompidou among others, which banned the party as a threat to law and order.[lxi] Thus de Gaulle and his colleagues outlawed a movement which they considered contrary to the national interest. Faced with vehement state opposition from the French President down and a decline in electoral support, the nationalist movement moderated its claims. In the late 1960s, programmes for statute reform aiming to give French Polynesia greater internal autonomy within the French Republic became the new focus for Pouvanaa's followers. The successor party to the RDPT, Here Ai'a (Beloved Land), founded in February 1965 by John Teariki, and Francis Sanford's E'a Api (New Way), founded the same year, retreated from Pouvanaa's pro-independence platform of the late 1950s.[lxii] In advocating autonomist policies during their period of coalition rule over the Territorial Government from 1967 to 1972, these two parties returned to the position of the RDPT in the early 1950s.
The modest goal of internal autonomy was more acceptable to the French Polynesian electorate than independence had been. Teariki and Sanford attracted broad support from voters who accepted internal autonomy as a path towards diminishing Parisian dirigisme in the territory. French Governments under the presidencies of de Gaulle and Pompidou were unresponsive to autonomist claims. After the election of Giscard d'Estaing in 1974, Paris recognised that statute reform was desirable and began discussions with Teariki and Sanford. Negotiations under Giscard d'Estaing were hesitant and protracted. Sanford and Teariki only made real headway in negotiations after their coalition, the Front Uni pour l'Autonomie Interne, gained a majority in the territorial elections of May 1977. A new statute proposed in 1976 by Olivier Stirn, then Secretary of State to the DOM-TOM, was criticised by autonomists for giving back too few of the administrative powers which had been lost by the territory under the Fifth Republic. Sanford threatened Stirn with the return of an independence movement should autonomist hopes be disappointed. In exchange for Here Ai'a and E'a Api's support for the UDF, the statute was renegotiated and a new version was promulgated in July 1977.[lxiii]
The new statute replaced the French Governor with a High Commissioner. As was the case in New Caledonia, the High Commissioner held the presidency of the Territorial Government, with a locally elected Vice-President effectively presiding over matters of territorial jurisdiction. Territorial powers under the statute differed from those under the Defferre law. The territory was to exercise competence over any domain not specifically listed as being that of the State. Although far from undermining the administrative status quo, the adoption of the statute was heralded as a great victory by Sanford and Teariki. Giscard d'Estaing and the UDF viewed the reform as the enlightened fulfilment by Paris of Polynesian demands for internal autonomy. It was envisaged that the new statute, combined with the introduction of development contracts between the State and the territory designed to strengthen the economy and alleviate social disparities, would eventually compensate for the shock caused by the CEP.[lxiv]
As in New Caledonia, the results of the 1981 elections cut short Giscardian reform orientations for French Polynesia. In assuming that the course of territorial reform had been settled for French Polynesia, Giscardians had not counted on the volatility and fluid nature of political life in Papeete. The issue of internal autonomy was far from resolved and from 1980 was adopted with zeal from an unexpected quarter.
Territorial Politics: From Giscard to Mitterrand
Up to this point examination of French Polynesian politics has been limited to a generalised description of two opposing political camps in the post-war period, those of autonomists and conservatives. This necessary simplification has been adopted to avoid becoming sidetracked by the complexities of French Polynesian political alliances from the 1950s to 1970s. However to understand the outwardly puzzling, ever-shifting maze of alliances both within Papeete, and between Papeete and Paris, as well as the influence they had on the implementation of French policy in the territory in the period under examination, closer analysis will be offered of the French Polynesian political scene from 1980.
The presentation of biographical information concerning the key leaders introduced so far is a reflection of the importance of personality politics in French Polynesia. From Pouvanaa to Flosse, the territory's political direction has been heavily influenced by a small number of vigorous figures. French Polynesian political parties tend to be little more than the embodiment of the mana of a single man.[lxv] Ideological considerations have been subservient to short-term pragmatism as the small group of political personalities with a territorial reputation shifted allegiances in their ongoing struggle for the dominance of political institutions. Consequently French Polynesian political life was inherently unstable, with a plethora of short-lived parties combining into coalitions which rose and fell from election to election. Because of these shifting alliances, politics in French Polynesia have been aptly described as reminiscent of the French Fourth Republic.[lxvi]
There are numerous examples from the 1950s of French Polynesian leaders who have made at least one political volte-face, but the one that best serves as an introduction to the 1980s is the self-transformation Flosse made in the late 1970s. At the time of the territorial elections in 1977, as the leader of Tahoeraa Huiraatira and the major local conservative figure, he ran a campaign which was light in detailed policy, not going beyond generalised support for social reforms, links with France and the strengthening of the economy.[lxvii] Faced with the arrival of an autonomist majority in the elections, and the Front Uni's coup in gaining statutory reform from Paris, Flosse decided to outflank Sanford and Teariki and take over their policy platform. As neither Flosse nor his party were closely tied to the UDF, he could afford to go a step further than the Front Uni. He accused the Front Uni of having conceded too easily to Paris, and proclaimed that the statute of 1977 failed to go far enough in granting greater autonomy to French Polynesia. By 1980, he had become a "super-autonomist",[lxviii] calling for Paris to create a Territorial Government with its own Ministers, able to negotiate with foreign powers, and with greater control over local resources.[lxix] On 7 March 1980, he tabled a private member's bill in the National Assembly designed to bring about the necessary statute modifications. Like legislative initiatives formulated by Pidjot as Deputy for New Caledonia, the bill did not gain the backing of a majority in the National Assembly. Dijoud did not take Flosse's bill seriously and on 11 May described it as premature.[lxx] Regardless of this lack of interest in Paris, Flosse's position was perfectly in accord with RPR policy stressing some form of decentralisation in the DOM-TOM as the best means towards strengthening their ties with metropolitan France.[lxxi] Coincidentally, and a consideration that would not have seemed greatly important in 1980, Flosse's "super-autonomist" outlook was not far removed from the decentralisation and "autogestion" or self-management orientations of the PS. This coincidence was to determine the shape of relations between Papeete and Paris from 1981. Whereas the defeat of the UDF and RPR by the PS in the elections that year was regarded by the RPCR as a disaster for conservative interests in New Caledonia, in French Polynesia the advent of the Socialists held more ambiguous implications. The "super-autonomist" stance of Flosse was to lead him into a series of statute negotiations with Emmanuelli and Lemoine that durably changed the territorial administrative structure.
In their 1981 electoral campaigns in French Polynesia the major metropolitan French parties and their local advocates reiterated the political positions expounded in the National Assembly debate on the DOM-TOM in June 1980. But a dimension was added to the exposition of these positions by campaigners in French Polynesia, who projected metropolitan French policies through the distorting prism of their own parochial concerns.
The marriage of convenience between the UDF and the Front Uni was perhaps the oddest combination in 1981; it demonstrated that Flosse was not the only French Polynesian leader capable of switching platform. The UDF, with its French Republican origins, and the Front Uni, with its roots in Polynesian nationalism, had converged from drastically different ideological starting points. In the past, autonomist parties had aligned themselves with parties of the French Left rather than with the Centre-Right, in the belief that Socialists would be more sympathetic to Polynesian interests. In the presidential elections of 1965, Teariki had campaigned for Mitterrand against de Gaulle. Nine years later, Teariki and Sanford had both advocated voting for Mitterrand rather than for Giscard d'Estaing, unconvinced that a former Finance Minister of de Gaulle would be any different from his predecessors as President.[lxxii] Although autonomist campaigning in May 1974 enabled Mitterrand to gain 51.04% of votes cast in French Polynesia in the second round of the presidential elections,[lxxiii] by 1981 the Front Uni preferred Giscard d'Estaing. Whereas in 1974, the French Polynesian Comité de soutien à Giscard d'Estaing had been the creation of a small coalition of independent centrist Territorial Councillors, by 1981 they found themselves rivals of the very autonomists who had campaigned against them on the Comité de soutien à François Mitterrand seven years before. As evidence of the fractious nature of French Polynesian party politics, by April 1981 there were four rival Giscardian support committees, each vying to spread the good word.[lxxiv] Prior to the elections in 1981 the leaders of the Front Uni misread political developments in Paris, acting on the assumption that Mitterrand would lose at national level as he had before.[lxxv] Their good relations with Giscardian Ministers in Paris should not be ignored either. Having gained various reform concessions from Paris since 1977, the Front Uni campaigned for Giscard, optimistic that his re-election would enable the introduction of further benevolent legislation which would increase autonomist prestige.[lxxvi]
On the topic of statute reform, Teariki stated early in April 1981 that Giscard d'Estaing had promised a revision of the 1977 statute should he be re-elected. When questioned in Paris days later concerning this reported promise, Giscard d'Estaing was vague on details, although he indicated that the statute "has always favoured greater autonomy [...] It's a beginning and not an end."[lxxvii] In the same interview, the President confidently stated that the territory had made great progress with socio-economic reforms since 1974 through its development contracts for agriculture, aquaculture and industry, the extension of social welfare coverage, the improvement of the education of French Polynesians, and assistance in the creation of a territorial culture office. Elsewhere he offered optimistic observations to the French Polynesian electorate regarding the territory's future under a second Giscardian term of office:
I have noted accelerated progress in every area where we [the French and Territorial Governments] have together undertaken major action for the future of your Territory. [...] Today, as is the case everywhere, there remains a lot of work to do. [...] But we can build the future of [French] Polynesia together. A happy and peaceful future, observing our own traditions, provided that we maintain continuity with regard to our actions and their safeguards.[lxxviii]
Absent from the rare interviews and statements given in 1981 by Giscard d'Estaing on French Polynesia were the detailed, technocratic analyses for which he was renowned. Instead, he traded on vague banalities such as those in the quote above, their underlying message being to keep him in power as better was yet to come.
The urgency of this message intensified after Mitterrand's national showing in the first round of the presidential elections he came second behind Giscard d'Estaing, in contrast to his third placing in the French Polynesian poll. (Tables 1, 30) In an attempt to harness the largely anti-communist sentiment of the territory's predominantly Christian population, attempts were made to invoke the Red peril which paralleled those of the RPCR in New Caledonia. This was by no means a new ploy; similar scaremongering had been indulged in during the presidential elections of 1974.[lxxix] After the first round, one of the Giscardian support committees asked rhetorically "Could G. Marchais become Minister to the DOM-TOM?" The Comité de soutien à la candidature de Valéry Giscard d'Estaing predicting that a Socialist Government would be hostage to the whims of a minority PC holding the balance of power in the National Assembly.[lxxx]
Such speculation probably influenced local voting patterns. Fear of communism, as well as hope for further Giscardian reforms, contributed to convincing 75.08% of the French Polynesian electorate to vote for Giscard d'Estaing in the second round of the presidential elections. (Table 31) The groundless nature of fears concerning the influence of the PC on the PS has already been discussed in chapter 2. The PC played no role in French Polynesian politics at the time of the 1981 elections, and had never had any significant presence in the islands. Marchais received 0.52% of votes cast in French Polynesia during the first round of the presidential elections, a level of support indicative of the lack of French Polynesian interest in his party platform.
Nor, more significantly, did the PS have a direct presence in French Polynesia at the beginning of the 1980s. A PS/Front Uni alliance could have had major bearing on territorial politics, but the autonomists had sided with Giscard d'Estaing. Instead, opposing the RPR, which had close associations with Tahoeraa Huiraatira, and the UDF, to which a motley collection of independent and Front Uni committees had adhered themselves, the PS had as its mouthpiece the Maohi nationalist party Ia Mana Te Nunaa (Power to the People). Founded in 1976, Ia Mana differed from the bulk of French Polynesian parties in having a fairly fixed agenda, and less emphasis on personality politics.[lxxxi] Led by a group of young Polynesians who had received tertiary educations in France, and who had absorbed the organisational methods and philosophies of the French Left, Ia Mana led a revival of Polynesian nationalism from the late 1970s, calling for the territory's secession from the Fifth Republic. Yet it was a fledgling party which had yet to gain as wide a level of support in French Polynesia as Kanak nationalist parties did from the 1970s. Like the FI in New Caledonia, in 1981 Ia Mana campaigned for Mitterrand and the PS in the hope that a Socialist Government would bring about radical local change and the recognition of its nationalist agenda.[lxxxii] Some distinction must be made between PS statements and those made by French Polynesian followers of the Socialists. Although Ia Mana was a socialist party in the broader sense of the term, it was not a component of the PS, and it provided its own gloss on PS policy, presenting it to fit Maohi nationalist criteria.
Ia Mana, like the Front Uni, and even Flosse,[lxxxiii] professed to be opposed to nuclear testing, but it fudged the issue of Mitterrand's backing for the retention of French nuclear defence and, by implication, nuclear testing in French Polynesia. An Ia Mana party communiqué on 29 April 1981 declared that a vote for Giscard d'Estaing was a vote for the continuation of nuclear testing,[lxxxiv] while neglecting to mention Mitterrand's pro-nuclear stance.[lxxxv] That the Mitterrandian policy of ongoing support for French deterrence was no different from that of Giscard d'Estaing and Chirac would have contradicted Ia Mana's electoral slogan: "Change your life with F. Mitterrand".[lxxxvi]
Consistent with its youthful leadership, Ia Mana presented itself as the representative of French Polynesian youth, and stressed that Giscardian reforms in the territory were far from having overcome the social disadvantages and poverty of young urban and rural Polynesians.[lxxxvii] Ia Mana accused Giscardian liberalism of failing to get to the heart of territorial social inequality, and promoted Mitterrand as a President who would install "economic autonomy" and "real internal government", as well as one who would "struggle against privilege".[lxxxviii] Mitterrand was portrayed as a potential Socialist saviour for the territory, an image which would prove hard to live up to in the decade which followed.
In this respect, Ia Mana did not vary from the line that Mitterrand himself offered: the image of ambitious, far-reaching, egalitarian reform for French Polynesia. Mitterrand stated that improving the lot of local youth was a priority, along with the reduction of social inequalities and the encouragement of local production to lessen territorial economic dependence.[lxxxix] In a message to French Polynesians issued at the time of his election the new President indicated that things were going to change:
The [French] Polynesians, in particular, know that an end must be brought to the excessive and stifling centralism of Giscardian government. [...] The galloping and invasive bureaucracy which prevents [French] Polynesia from developing its economy and implementing real autonomous government must be stopped. [...] It is intolerable that instead of giving [French] Polynesians the means to assume responsibility for the future of their "fenua" [people], the reform of 1977 has led to making the Government Council a perpetual beggar for subsidies through the settlement of Conventions.[xc]
These orientations were more reminiscent of the author of Le Coup d'état permanent in the mid 1960s rather than the President of the early 1990s. He would have as hard a time living up to his own words as to those of Ia Mana.
Although Mitterrand indicated that things were going to change in the islands, that change did not extend to talk of self-determination as it did in New Caledonia. In Papeete, Maohi sovereignty was not a major campaign issue during the elections of 1981. The message promoted by most local parties was that the political path for the territory lay in the promotion of greater administrative autonomy within the Fifth Republic. It was nevertheless evoked on occasion, mainly by Ia Mana. On the question of French Polynesian independence, in 1981 Mitterrand was as circumspectly observant of constitutional considerations as he was in New Caledonia's case:
The Socialist Party solemnly recognises the right of peoples to freely choose those political institutions which seem to them to be best adapted to local solutions. This right to exercise self-determination, which stems from the right to be different, and the principle of respecting the particularities of each population, has since 1946 been inscribed in the preamble of the Constitution. The Socialist Party has always called for the application of these fundamental rights of the populations of the Overseas Departments and Territories, and it has, in advance, proclaimed its willingness to respect their wishes.[xci]
This statement tied in with Mitterrand's position on New Caledonian independence at that time: if a majority of the electorate in the territory desired independence, then it would be given. In French Polynesia, such a scenario represented a distant and unpopular prospect in 1981. Ia Mana supporters were few within the territory. In the territorial elections of 1977, the party received 3.63% of votes cast, inadequate to gain any seats in the Territorial Assembly.[xcii] This marginal following for Maohi sovereignty precluded any likelihood that Mitterrand would have to weigh his position on French Polynesian independence as carefully as he had to with New Caledonia in the 1980s.
On the eve of his election in 1981 Mitterrand offered clear observations concerning the issue of French Polynesian statute reform:
If [French] Polynesians consider it necessary to improve or amend the present statute, I shall undertake to do so in close cooperation with all parties and elected representatives.
At this point I shall affirm that real internal autonomy is to be found via the untrammelled provision of resources to the Territory and by the abolition of the exorbitant powers of the High Commissioner. Government Councillors must have full responsibility for the management of the Territory, under the responsibility of a freely appointed member of their ranks.
Then a new era of confident relations between France and [French] Polynesia will be ushered in, along with harmonious development, greater social justice and real administrative responsibilities.[xciii]
These prescriptions were exactly what Flosse had advocated.
The PS was dissatisfied with its lack of representation in Papeete and made an attempt to establish its own presence in local politics at the time of the presidential elections. Following the accession to power of the Mauroy Government, the Socialists made efforts to establish a branch in French Polynesia. Like its New Caledonian and Wallisian counterparts, the PSP was to have an inglorious career. The main force behind the PSP was Paul Koury, a Guadaloupean dentist of Lebanese origin living in Papeete. He had settled there in 1976 after marrying one of Flosse's daughters, whom he claimed he had subsequently divorced on the grounds of "political incompatibility".[xciv] At the time of the election of Mitterrand, Guy Penne, one of the new President's advisers, asked Koury to enter French Polynesian politics for the PS. Although founded on 10 May 1981, remarkably it was only after Emmanuelli's first visit to Papeete in August that the PSP assumed anything other than a paper existence.[xcv] Echoing PS plans of broader social renovation at national level, the PSP hovered on the margin of territorial political life into the mid-1980s and then faded away. No PSP candidates were elected to the Territorial Assembly in the territorial elections of 23 May 1982, (Table 32) as the party had only gained 2.11% of valid votes.[xcvi] Equally disappointing to the PS was the marginal score obtained by Koury four months later in the East Polynesia by-election. Polling last, he received 433 votes, 0.27% of votes cast.[xcvii] The PSP did not consolidate a territorial network capable of rivalling those of established local parties, and continued experiencing mediocre electoral results. The participation of the PSP in the territorial and legislative elections of March 1986, (Tables 39, 40) marked its last significant foray into electoral politics. French Polynesian voters had showed no haste to desert established local political parties to follow the Socialist vision. That Koury was an outsider worked against him. Unlike the prominent local politicians of the day he had neither Polynesian ancestry nor a local heritage, considerations which were important elements in gaining the confidence of indigenous voters.
The RPR had already consolidated its presence in French Polynesia via Tahoeraa Huiraatira. The RPR message for French Polynesia during the 1981 elections was more effectively presented than that of either the PS or the UDF. Tahoeraa Huiraatira greeted Pons and organised large rallies for him during his tour of the territory early in April.[xcviii] No major PS or UDF representative visited the islands for the campaigns from April to June. Flosse acted as Chirac's mouthpiece in Papeete. Flosse professed scepticism over the likelihood of Giscard d'Estaing revising the statute in the case of his re-election, and took the opportunity to reiterate his "super-autonomist" stance. He stressed that allowing the territory greater autonomy did not entail severing links with France: "For Tahoeraa Huiraatira internal autonomy is not a matter of independence but is rather decentralisation within the French Republic".[xcix] Chirac was in agreement with this sentiment. In April 1981 he declared to La Dépêche de Tahiti:
And in the same way as I am in favour of greater deconcentration and decentralisation for the benefit of the metropolitan [French] Regions and Departments, so too do I favour to local autonomy when it concerns French Polynesia [...]. [...] Certain people, I know, fear internal autonomy as the antechamber of independence. I would like to reassure them, as I am convinced to the contrary that by the installation of real local autonomy, which guarantees your freedoms, your traditions and your culture, thus once and for all may the dangerous temptation of independence be exorcised.[c]
Chirac could lay passing claim to having assisted decentralisation during his period as Prime Minister from 1974 to 1976, when preliminary work had been done on the statute of 1977. French Polynesia would have to await Chirac's appointment as Prime Minister in March 1986 to see the extent to which he would apply these views, by which time they had been overtaken by statute reform under preceding Socialist Governments. His views here contrasted sharply with his later opposition to the Pisani/Fabius Interim Statute, which he declared was the antechamber to New Caledonian independence. His attitude differed because within the New Caledonian context, greater territorial autonomy offered indigenous nationalists the opportunity to work towards independence, a consideration of little applicability to French Polynesia.
Chirac's view concerning territorial economic policy did not differ from those of the PS or the UDF in broadly following the orientations of the Eighth Plan for the DOM-TOM. Local productivity should be stimulated in order to reduce territorial dependence on imports. Emphasis was placed on the exploitation of maritime resources and the expansion of tourism.[ci] Both Chirac and Tahoeraa Huiraatira had no opposition to the continuation of the development contracts instituted under Giscard d'Estaing.[cii] Chirac foresaw no reduction of the activities of the CEP in the event of his election, considering the nuclear strike force to be France's best means of protecting its independence.[ciii]
While Flosse did not go to the extent of Ia Mana in claiming to speak for disadvantaged Polynesian youth, he did on occasion decry local social problems such as unemployment and propose the extension of social welfare assistance.[civ] Tahoeraa Huiraatira did not venture so far as to support Ia Mana's proposals for the introduction of personal income tax. It was not opposed to the reform of company taxes and other levies imposed by the territory, but regarded the introduction of personal income tax as justified only as a measure of last resort, and not as a very desirable one.[cv] Flosse had convinced the conservative electorate to follow his recently adopted internal autonomy platform, although until 1993 there was no indication that his party was ready to take up Ia Mana's advocacy of personal income tax.
Tahoeraa Huiraatira and the RPR's emphasis on the remedy to social problems such as the wealth gap and unemployment formed the major difference with Mitterrand's general policy for French Polynesia. Concerning the continuation of nuclear testing, and an increase in local autonomy, both Mitterrand and Chirac were essentially in agreement. With regard to development issues, both expressed negative comments on the limitations of Giscardian reforms to date and offered more and better change, although each in his own way. Political rhetoric from the two presidential candidates' local spokesmen tended to conceal these policy convergences.
After Mitterrand's victory in the second round of the presidential elections Tahoeraa Huiraatira reacted with alarm, warning French Polynesian voters of dire consequences. A party declaration issued just after the results were announced predicted that Mitterrand would be dependent on the PC to form a left-wing coalition government, and urged a strong turn-out for the RPR in the coming legislative elections, as only Chirac would be capable of keeping this "socialist-communist coalition" in check.[cvi] This call to the polling barricades evoked a limited response during the legislative elections in the islands. (Table 31) In the first round Flosse was re-elected RPR Deputy with 55.95% of votes cast in East Polynesia. The RPR candidate in West Polynesia, Alexandre Léontieff,[cvii] lost a second round run-off with Jean Juventin, the UDF candidate.[cviii] A large segment of the French Polynesian electorate was still prepared to back a UDF candidate in spite of Giscard d'Estaing's defeat in the presidential elections. Tahoeraa Huiraatira later discarded any fighting talk after the party had consolidated its territorial representation to the point where it could comfortably negotiate the reforms it had hoped to implement with Chirac as President.
Towards Internal Autonomy
Considering the unstable nature of French Polynesian politics, it is surprising that the evolution of the territorial statute in the 1980s and early 1990s was not accompanied by the series of legislative revisions which New Caledonia underwent. Instead in September 1984, at the conclusion of orderly negotiations marked only by civilised expressions of differences of opinion, the National Assembly unanimously approved a new territorial statute for French Polynesia. This statute survived into the 1990s, outlasting the New Caledonian Lemoine Statute, the Pisani/Fabius Interim Statute and the Regional Autonomy Statute. Explanation is offered below of why this should have happened when numerous factors were predisposed against the consensual introduction of a new administrative structure for French Polynesia. Comparison is made between New Caledonian statute legislation and that of French Polynesia from the 1980s to ascertain the degree to which decentralisation measures implemented by Paris in the two TOM differed. The practical consequences of French Polynesian statute reform are examined, namely the nature and extent of the decentralisation it introduced. Reactions of the major metropolitan French parties to governmental relations with French Polynesia are analysed. Prominent was the moderate dissension between representatives of the Left and Right compared to their pronouncements on New Caledonia.
Following the Socialist victories in the 1981 elections, the representatives of the Front Uni found themselves in political disarray. Once again, they had supported the losing candidate in the presidential elections. By the time of Emmanuelli's visit to Papeete in August 1981, Sanford and Teariki were attempting to ingratiate themselves with the Secretary of State. Sanford stated to Emmanuelli "I know that close cooperation is the basis of your action, that true political, administrative and economic decentralisation has finally arrived; in a word, that colonialist behaviour is a thing of the past"[cix] Sanford's assessment, insinuating that all which had gone before did not spell true decentralisation, involved a belated disavowal of his earlier promotion of Giscardian reforms. His words were at odds with a declaration he had made three months before following the election of Mitterrand: "With Giscard d'Estaing, much progress has been made in economic terms. Now certain portfolios dealing with economic development run the risk of being called into question."[cx] Sanford and Teariki advocated in August that the Mauroy Government should implement further decentralisation measures in the territory, but that advocacy sat uneasily with the versatile nature of their party allegiance. Flosse used the Front's setbacks to his benefit by pushing to extremes his 'more radical than thou' image. By December 1981, he was calling for an immediate suspension of nuclear testing and an inquiry into its safety.[cxi] This theatrical stance from the RPR Deputy was quite incompatible with traditional Gaullist backing for nuclear testing. Nothing came of the proposal, although it did allow Flosse to upstage the Front Uni on its political ground.
Emmanuelli confronted local reform demands by announcing that he was not unopposed to statute modifications, however he considered social and economic change to be of greater importance. As in New Caledonia, he had gained the impression that addressing social inequalities was a more pressing consideration.[cxii] Unlike New Caledonia however, some early contemplation was also to be devoted to statute reform. The Council of Ministers announced after Emmanuelli's return to Paris that a state-territorial working committee would be appointed to examine the statute as well as development planning.[cxiii]
In August 1981 the Front Uni was best placed to negotiate with Paris, holding majority control over the Territorial Government, but this situation was not to last. On 23 May 1982, the Front Uni experienced major setbacks in territorial elections which brought about the end of its coalition administration. (Table 32) In a campaign involving 398 candidates contesting 30 seats, the cohesion of the Front Uni was marred by defections, dissent, and divisions between its various components.[cxiv] After five years in government, the member parties of the Front had not managed to consolidate a collective identity to the point of enabling them to stand on a joint platform. Wishing to retain their respective identities, the Front's three major formations, Here Ai'a, E'a Api and the Mouvement Social-Démocrate,[cxv] ran separate campaigns. Just before the May elections Emile Vernaudon, an E'a Api Councillor, resigned from the Front Uni Government to form Ai'a Api (New Land). Sensing an oncoming change in the fortunes of the Front Uni, various figures in Here Ai'a decided to stand as independents.[cxvi] Tahoeraa Huiraatira did not face such organisational problems. It criticised the disunity and allegedly poor administration of the Front Uni while promoting its campaign slogan: "Run [French] Polynesia better".[cxvii] Tahoeraa received enough votes through the proportional ballot to take 13 of the 30 seats in the Territorial Assembly, an increase of three compared with its representation since 1977. The member parties of the Front Uni lost considerable ground Here Ai'a held its six seats, E'a Api was reduced from six seats to one, and the Mouvement Social-Démocrate failed to gain any.[cxviii] Ia Mana and Juventin's Ai'a Api each received three seats.[cxix]
The new balance of power left Flosse in a commanding situation, holding command of a unified block, while all opposition was fragmented. He took advantage of divisions among his opponents to form a coalition government with Juventin after the May elections. It was a union which lasted only 110 days before collapsing under the force of personality differences.[cxx] In a remarkable but by no means unprecedented volte-face, in September 1982 Flosse then formed a new coalition with Here Ai'a. Flosse and Teariki were as unlikely a couple as Flosse and Vernaudon, although they negotiated a joint policy platform, the terms of which were sufficiently loose to avoid immediate political differences.[cxxi] This coalition cemented enough stability for the territory to enter into statute negotiations with Paris.
Flosse had to resign as Deputy for East Polynesia in August 1982. His tenure of the posts of Deputy and of Vice-President of the Territorial Government was deemed incompatible by the state judiciary. Tutaha Salmon, a Tahoeraa Huiraatira Territorial Councillor, and Flosse's proxy for the seat, was elected to the post in a by-election held on 29 August 1982.[cxxii] While a reduction of his personal responsibilities, the loss of the seat allowed Flosse to devote more time to statute reform.
As with parallel reform in New Caledonia, some consultations concerning the French Polynesian statute had been made under Emmanuelli, however the bulk of the preparatory work was to be completed under Lemoine from March 1983. Thanks to the coalition's majority, and the absence of vehement opposition to statute reform in Papeete, Lemoine was not obliged to arrange round table negotiations à la Nainville les Roches for French Polynesian representatives. It became apparent at an early stage that the Mauroy Government was largely prepared to fulfil proposals presented by Flosse for greater territorial self-government.
On 30 June 1983 Flosse met Mauroy at the Hôtel Matignon. Mauroy assured Flosse that he was willing to legislate a statute which would give French Polynesia a Territorial Government with greater responsibilities, and which would extend to permitting it to represent France at international fora.[cxxiii] Negotiations between Lemoine and Flosse had begun on 14 April 1983, aimed at finalising the details of a new form of territorial administration which would establish a Territorial President elected by the Territorial Assembly, and who would lead the Territorial Government rather than the High Commissioner. It was envisaged that the High Commissioner would retain a supervisory role, assuring the legality of local administrative decisions.[cxxiv] Lemoine confirmed these orientations with an official announcement in early September 1983, by which time a draft statute proposal had already been forwarded to the French Polynesian Territorial Assembly.[cxxv] The draft, prepared in August 1983, reiterated Lemoine's earlier general publicised description of the competences of the Territorial President, the Territorial Assembly and the High Commissioner. The bill proposed that French Polynesia should receive increased control over the French Polynesian EEZ, be allowed to negotiate foreign investment to a value of 55MFF, and to regain control over the first cycle of secondary education. Paris would engage in closer consultation with the territory over international fishing agreements in its EEZ, international air and sea links, and immigration.[cxxvi]
This draft met with some criticism in Papeete. Flosse and opposition representatives characterised it as deficient, claiming it did not devolve enough power to the territory. At an assembly session on 21 September 1983, the draft was rejected. Flosse voiced the objections of the Territorial Assembly to the Constitutional Law Commission in Paris on 6 October.[cxxvii] He asserted that the draft did not go far enough in devolving state powers. Flosse obtained an audience with Mitterrand on 19 October 1983 to voice French Polynesian dissatisfaction, but the proposal was tabled as a bill before the National Assembly on 7 December with only minor modifications.[cxxviii] The French Government was constitutionally obliged to consult with territorial representatives, in the same manner as required under the existing New Caledonian statute. The Territorial Assembly had no power of veto over legislation emanating from Paris. Any objections raised in Papeete could therefore be disregarded by the Mauroy Government. Flosse called a special session of the Territorial Assembly on 12 April 1984 to debate what should be done. Here Ai'a Councillors abstained from voting because Juventin, the party's new leader, had announced there was little recourse at territorial level and it would be better for French Polynesian parliamentary representatives to voice local dissatisfaction in Paris. Of the 27 Councillors present, 17 voted for a motion presented by Tahoeraa Huiraatira which called for a rewrite of the statute bill.[cxxix]
Dissatisfaction expressed in debate in Papeete found no great echo in Paris during parliamentary consideration and promulgation of the bill from May to September 1984. Upon the completion of the first reading in the National Assembly on 10 May, the bill was passed with 485 votes for and one against.[cxxx] At its final reading in the National Assembly on 31 July, the bill became law with the unanimous approval of the 481 Deputies voting.[cxxxi] The legislative progress of the statute was not impeded by opposition recourse to the Constitutional Council, as the DOM decentralisation bill had been in November 1982, and as the Pisani/Fabius Interim Statute for New Caledonia was to be in August 1985. Nor was the statute to be abandoned by the Fabius Government in the face of rising, violent opposition in the territory, and coordinated opposition attacks in Paris, as occurred with the New Caledonian Lemoine Statute.
The tone of the National Assembly debates over the bill was superficially curious when viewed alongside the parliamentary ructions which accompanied the Lemoine statute bill for New Caledonia. The jeering, abuse, tirades and interjections characteristic of debates on New Caledonia in 1984 and 1985 were absent from statute reform debates on French Polynesia. The contrast between the two was greatest in the debates of the National Assembly on 31 July 1984, when the final reading of the Lemoine Statute for New Caledonia took place just before that of the French Polynesian statute.[cxxxii] Whereas the political future of New Caledonia had become a ball kicked around an ideological football field, proposals for French Polynesia were treated in a calm, orderly manner. Various party speakers voiced reservations about the legislation for French Polynesia, though none of them were prepared to push their reservations to the extent that they had over New Caledonia. In the absence of accompanying talk of self-determination, the granting of greater administrative powers to the French Polynesian Territorial Government was not considered controversial. As no substantial minority backing for secession existed in French Polynesia, the PS and the PC had no grounds for raising the issue of self-determination, while the UDF and the RPR could profess no great objections to reform on the grounds that the Socialists were threatening the unity of the Republic by hastily leading the territory to independence.
Juventin and Salmon became progressively less critical as the bill passed through its three readings, partly because some of their requests for modifications were met, and partly because it became apparent to the two Deputies that so little animosity to the legislation existed among their metropolitan French colleagues that entrenched opposition to it was pointless. Prior to the first reading of the bill, some minor competences had been added to the list of territorial responsibilities.[cxxxiii] At the first reading, the Government accepted Juventin's proposal that a state-territorial coordinating committee should be set up to supervise the implementation of the statute.[cxxxiv] It also accepted his proposal that the Territorial President should be obliged to submit his list of Ministers to the Territorial Assembly for approval, and that the statute should be characterised as open to future evolution so that territorial powers might subsequently be increased. Juventin was dissatisfied that the territory would not receive control of the French Polynesian EEZ, even though the territory did not have the means to maintain such control.[cxxxv] Lemoine had deemed it necessary to cede the territory competence over the exploitation of maritime resources, but not the full control of the EEZ. He argued that such control could not be permitted for legal reasons. International law only recognised the control of the French Republic over territorial waters. Therefore the State would have to retain its responsibilities in this domain.[cxxxvi] Overall though, Juventin had had enough of his requests met to enable him to vote for the statute bill on 31 July.
By the third reading of the bill, Salmon indicated that he would vote for it, although he remained disappointed that the territory had not been granted greater economic powers, and that the Territorial Government would not have greater autonomy from the Territorial Assembly. In this latter respect he differed from Juventin. He also expressed opposition to articles 10 and 12 of the bill, which limited the number of posts the members of the Territorial Government could hold simultaneously. There was speculation this could be applied detrimentally to Flosse. Flosse, the most likely candidate for Territorial President under the new law, had been elected on 17 June 1984 to the European Parliament on the UDF-RPR list.[cxxxvii] Some controversy had been provoked by this article, with the RPR asserting it was a Socialist attempt to limit Flosse's political career. His five-year term of office in Strasbourg might be endangered by these articles if he decided to run for the presidency. At the bill's first reading, PS and PC Deputies held off an RPR and UDF attempt to loosen this restriction, with 317 votes against 112.[cxxxviii] For Juventin and the UDF this concern constituted a dubious point which had needlessly distracted debate and should be left to the Constitutional Council to resolve.[cxxxix] The Constitutional Council ruled in September that the two posts were not incompatible, allowing Flosse to be Territorial President and a European parliamentarian.[cxl] In any event, this matter did not prevent global RPR acceptance of the statute bill.
On behalf of the RPR, Jacques Toubon expressed approval of the bill, stating that it conformed with his party's aims for decentralisation within the Republic.[cxli] He described RPR support as "un «oui, mais»", in that the party was opposed to the possible implications of article 10 for Flosse, and because the Mauroy Government had failed to grant greater territorial control over the French Polynesian EEZ. Toubon asserted that the Government had not gone as far as the RPR would have gone in decentralising, a claim which was to be put to the test during Chirac's administration.
The UDF also offered a "oui, mais" in its assessment of the bill.[cxlii] Echoing arguments applied to Socialist reforms to New Caledonia, it claimed the bill might follow the precedent of the 'loi-cadre Defferre' of 1956 in bringing French Polynesia closer to independence.[cxliii] In fact, the Defferre law had not led French Polynesia to independence, and by the early 1990s, this fear expressed about the new statute remained unfulfilled. Robert Le Foll, a PS Deputy, replied with the observation that the Opposition occasionally tried to make believe that the Socialists were abandoning French Polynesia, but this did not correspond with reality.[cxliv] It was difficult to believe that the Mauroy Government might be attempting to steer French Polynesia into independence when it had negotiated the statute bill with a territorial delegation led by Flosse, a former RPR Deputy, an RPR European parliamentarian and the leader of Tahoeraa Huiraatira. This UDF attempt to cast doubts on Socialist motives failed, although similar attempts applied to the New Caledonian portfolio would prove more successful in raising a coordinated liberal-conservative reaction in defence of the unity of the Republic. It should be noted that the RPR avoided such arguments in its commentaries on the French Polynesian statute bill, probably conscious of the charges of hypocrisy it would be exposing itself to should it seek to challenge Socialist motives. Had the RPR claimed that the new statute might lead French Polynesia to independence, PS Deputies would have been able to inquire why the party had allowed Flosse, the RPR stalwart in Papeete, to negotiate with the Mauroy Government in the first place. The dialogue between Socialist Governments and Tahoeraa Huiraatira had no equivalent in New Caledonia. There the RPCR stood in opposition to Socialist statute reform because it involved a self-determination vote.
Moderation was likewise a characteristic of the PC reaction to the bill, which was broadly supportive, with minor reservations.[cxlv] Anti-colonial rhetoric and the championing of indigenous nationalism were not major features of the Communist attitude, either to the bill or to French Polynesia in general. Maohi independence did not receive the same support that Kanak nationalism did when the PC criticised the Lemoine Statute for not guaranteeing Kanak self-determination.[cxlvi] The Communist double standard stemmed from the marginal nature of the Maohi nationalist movement, and the fact that its most important exponent, Ia Mana, sympathised with the PS rather than with the PC. The moderation of the PC served to keep the debates on the bill relatively calm. Had it proclaimed itself the mouthpiece of Maohi nationalism, this stance might have raised tempers on the UDF and RPR benches to the level evident in debates over New Caledonia.
Internal Autonomy: Framework and Implementation
Reference by the UDF spokesman Pascal Clement to the statute bill as a possible portent of independence was given in response to the opening speech of Michel Suchod, a reporter for the Constitutional Law Commission. Introducing the bill to the National Assembly on 9 May 1984, he had placed the legislation within the context of Socialist decentralisation under the Fourth Republic, and more recently under the Fifth Republic:
The text before you takes into consideration the two principles of internal autonomy and decentralisation.
By proposing a régime of internal autonomy under which territorial affairs shall be freely administered by elected territorial representatives, the Government restates its attachment to the free determination of peoples, a principle which another Socialist Government installed with the "loi cadre" of 23 June 1956. [...]
Indeed, this plan borrows from the principle of [metropolitan French] decentralisation. The Government intends to apply to French Polynesia rules identical to those which metropolitan [French] Departments have enjoyed since the coming into force of the Law of 2 March 1982.[cxlvii]
Any analogy made between the administrative structure of French Polynesia under the new statute and that of a metropolitan French Department was a loose one. French Polynesian bodies such as the Government Council and the Territorial Assembly had equivalents in metropolitan Departments in the form of General Councils, although the latter did not have as great a degree of administrative autonomy.
With regard to the departmental reforms of 1982, these did not apply to the TOM. Similarly, communal electoral reform undertaken by Defferre in 1982 had not affected French Polynesian communes. While proportional representation was installed that year for New Caledonian municipal elections, in French Polynesia the old first-past-the-post system was retained. The introduction, with the Territorial Assembly's approval, of proportional representation to communes with more than 10,000 inhabitants was contemplated, but did not happen.[cxlviii] The main reason for this lack of change was an unwillingness to radically alter communal regulations which had only been extended to most of the territory at the beginning of the 1970s. In French Polynesia it was the High Commissioner who authorised the application of communal legislation.[cxlix]
Suchod's mention of departmental reform in the French Polynesian context presented territorial statute reform as part of a broader Socialist plan for national local government reform and decentralisation. In doing so, he glossed over administrative differences between the TOM and metropolitan French Departments. The description offered by Lemoine of the statute was similarly misleading:
This new statute marks a break with preceding statutes in going to the end point of constitutional logic concerning the "special organisation" of the Overseas Territories, by endowing French Polynesia with internal autonomy.[cl]
While it is true that the statute bill offered greater recognition of French Polynesian specificity, it is doubtful that it represented either a break with preceding statutes or the end-point of territorial administrative particularism. (Tables 37, 38) The main territorial administrative bodies - the High Commission, the Territorial Government, and the Territorial Assembly - were rejigged rather than replaced. The Permanent Commission of the Territorial Assembly was increased from 7 members, to a complement ranging from 9 to 13 members. The territorial Economic and Social Advisory Committee was maintained. An Administrative Tribunal was set up to monitor the legality of territorial legislation. The new statute was a reworking of the one which preceded it, not a new beginning. Nor was the statute necessarily the end of the line for French Polynesian autonomy, as subsequent statute reform has demonstrated.
The final text of the law, referred to as the Internal Autonomy Statute, was promulgated in September 1984.[cli] The phrase "internal autonomy", prominent in the first article of the statute, was used to define the administrative standing of the territory:
The Territory of French Polynesia constitutes, pursuant to articles 72 and 74 of the Constitution, an Overseas Territory endowed with internal autonomy within the framework of the Republic, concerning which the special organisation open to evolution is laid down by this Law.[clii]
Symbolic of its new standing was the granting to the territory under article 1 of an official flag and hymn. These symbols were far from entailing an abdication of French sovereignty. Under article 1 it was additionally outlined that the High Commissioner would hold his traditional authority over the defence of law and order, the respect of French law, and state administration. He was to act as the state watch-dog over the legality of the actions of the territorial administration.
The list in article 3 of state domains over which the High Commissioner held authority was still extensive. Overall, he retained most of the responsibilities outlined in the statute of 1977, with the addition of more specific details in some instances. As under the statute of 1977, he exercised authority over territorial foreign relations, immigration, external communications, finance, defence, strategic resources, the maintenance of law and order, state administration, civil law, labour law, communal administration, the second cycle of secondary education and state higher educational facilities. His control over the importation of all arms and munitions was a new detail. Previously, his authority had been limited to military arms. State control over local land, air and sea resources was increased. Article 3 of the Internal Autonomy Statute, while going into more precise detail, confirmed the orientations of article 62 of the statute of 1977 and added a further feature.[cliii] With the permission of the State the territory would be able to exploit local maritime resources. However existing prerogatives of the territory such as its ability to negotiate fishing accords in its EEZ with foreign powers were not challenged.
More change was apparent in the High Commissioner's relations with territorial representatives, although he retained considerable authority. Under article 91, the High Commissioner could declare a state of emergency in French Polynesia. Article 92 outlined the High Commissioner's powers over the Territorial Government. He could suspend and defer any decision by the Territorial Assembly or Government to the Administrative Tribunal for examination should he deem it contrary to French law. The Administrative Tribunal was the body which decided the legality of any contested decision. This marked a reduction of the High Commissioner's tutelage over territorial representatives and a degree of alignment with metropolitan French practice. Previously, the High Commissioner had been empowered to annul any decision of the Territorial Assembly or Territorial Council by decree.[cliv] The relationship between the Territorial Government and the Administrative Tribunal could be compared to that between the Government and the Constitutional Council in Paris. Under the Internal Autonomy Statute the State retained substantial command over any Territorial Assembly which it felt had gone out of control. Articles 77 and 78 allowed the High Commissioner to assume command of the territorial budget if the Territorial Assembly could not balance its books. Under article 81, the Council of Ministers in Paris could dissolve the Territorial Assembly by decree "when the functioning of territorial institutions reveals itself to be impossible". The assessment that it was impossible to govern could be made either unilaterally in Paris after hearing the advice of the President of the Territorial Assembly and the President of the Territorial Government, or it could be made in reaction to a demand from the Territorial Government. Paris could thus rein in the Territorial Assembly should its actions be deemed out of order.
Within these limits, territorial representatives experienced increased powers under the Internal Autonomy Statute. Article 21 of the 1977 statute had allowed the Territorial Government Council authority over territorial domains, the purchase of real estate for territorial administration purposes, the acceptance of gifts to the territory, public works, tariffs, private airports, territorial administration, local statistics, price control, preparation of import programmes within the budget constraints set by the State, local commerce, the application of labour law, the teaching of local languages, and the codification of territorial regulations.[clv] The Territorial Government, the body which replaced the Government Council, had greater powers than its predecessor. Unlike the Government Council, it was not presided over by the High Commissioner, who was now represented by a Territorial Vice-President elected by the Territorial Assembly. Instead, at the head of the Territorial Government was a President elected by the Territorial Assembly. The Territorial Government could have six to ten Ministers, as outlined in article 5, who were chosen by the Territorial President.[clvi] This Government exercised authority over territorial taxation, public health, transport, professional codes, insurance regulations, public market codes, the control of weights and measures and the repression of fraud, price control, urban planning, veterinary services, territorial administrative personnel, the issuing of statistics, territorial administration buildings, internal road, air and sea links, electric power production, abattoirs, ports and airports, weather forecasting, post and telecommunications, sport and culture, labour law and some professional training.
Some of these attributions marked the return of powers lost under the Fifth Republic, namely the restoration of post and telecommunications services to territorial control, and of the first cycle of secondary teaching. The Internal Autonomy Statute foresaw that the second cycle of secondary teaching would be returned to territorial tutelage in 1989 at the territory's demand. This actually occurred on 1 January 1988, in response to a private member's bill tabled in late 1987 by Edouard Fritch, who was then the RPR Deputy for East Polynesia.[clvii]
State-territorial contracts were continued under the Internal Autonomy Statute. Articles 69 and 70 of the statute of 1977 had established the possibility of development contracts in the fields of technical and financial aid.[clviii] This arrangement was confirmed by articles 103 and 104 of the 1984 statute. The Internal Autonomy Statute did not differ greatly from its predecessor in this regard.
Compared with either the 1977 statute, or with the New Caledonian statutes of the 1980s, the Internal Autonomy Statute went further in recognising the existence of indigenous cultural identity. Article 90 stated "Tahitian shall be a subject taught in the context of the standard curricula of primary and secondary schools".[clix] By the 1990s, most indigenous languages of New Caledonia had not received such status. The same article allowed the substitution by the territory of Tahitian with other Polynesian languages in the curricula of certain schools, in recognition of the cultural identities of archipelagoes such as the Marquesas, where Tahitian was not widely spoken. In practice, the teaching of Tahitian and other indigenous languages had been permitted in French Polynesian schools since 1980. Prior to this, French was the only language allowed, and pupils had been punished for speaking their native tongues in class.[clx] Local culture had been financed by the territory since the 1970s, when the Tahitian museum and a Polynesian Cultural Centre were founded.[clxi] Tahitian had been recognised by the Territorial Assembly as an official language in November 1980,[clxii] and it had become the main language used in the chamber from 1982. The three Ia Mana Councillors elected that year insisted on speaking Tahitian instead of French, much to the consternation of journalists and some assembly secretaries who did not know the language. This precedent was followed by representatives of Here Ai'a and most of the other Territorial Councillors who, being demis, were bilingual.[clxiii] Due to the numbers of the Tahitian population, Tahitian has become the dominant indigenous language in French Polynesia. It has penetrated public life to a far greater extent than any of the Melanesian languages in New Caledonia,[clxiv] although it has not resisted the incursion of French as well as Wallisian and Futunan. Tahitian preeminence among local languages was resented by Polynesians from the outer islands. Marquesan Territorial Councillors have, on occasion, caused bewilderment among their Tahitian colleagues by addressing the Territorial Assembly in Marquesan, in an assertion of their identity in the face of both Tahitian and French cultural hegemony.[clxv]
Flosse feted the Internal Autonomy Statute as a substantial, if not total, fulfilment of his specifications for local rule. Its promulgation brought him considerable acclaim, and assisted his election on 14 September 1984 as the first Territorial President of French Polynesia under the new administrative framework.[clxvi] Flosse's achievement eroded the following of Here Ai'a and left the party in some disarray. Juventin's leadership of the Here Ai'a was questioned in the light of Flosse's predominance over territorial politics. Tinomana Ebb, a Territorial Councillor and a party stalwart, left it in September 1984 to form Te Aratia o Te Nunaa.[clxvii] Te Aratia however did not manage to challenge Here Ai'a and has remained a minor party with Ebb as its sole territorial representative. The autonomists had been soundly outmanœuvred by Flosse as a result of his conclusion of the statute negotiations. He had implemented autonomist policies under Mitterrand to a greater extent than they had managed under Giscard d'Estaing. The former members of the Front Uni found themselves suffering from an image problem. No longer could they distinguish themselves from Tahoeraa Huiraatira by calling themselves 'autonomists'. They were left politically discredited, divided, and consequently faced diminishing electoral support. The Maohi nationalist fringe was likewise challenged by Flosse's achievement. The need for independence from France was questioned by Flosse and his followers, who pointed out that the Internal Autonomy Statute addressed demands for self-rule, and held the advantage of being open to further modifications should the territory so choose.
Flosse instituted an annual territorial holiday to commemorate the signing of the Internal Autonomy Statute. This symbol of success was abandoned under the administration of Alexandre Léontieff from 1987 to 1991. At the first anniversary celebrations at the end of June 1985, in front of a crowd that included Penne and Messmer, who represented respectively Mitterrand and the RPR, Flosse freely paid tribute to the Socialist Government and to the Territorial Government for their part in the negotiations. In particular he praised Mitterrand's wisdom in transcending party divisions and impartially overseeing the statute negotiations.[clxviii] He placed the French Polynesian Internal Autonomy Statute in the traditions of the French Republic, describing the spirit of legislation of both the Fourth and Fifth Republics as offering to the TOM "new institutions founded on the common ideal of liberty, equality and fraternity, and conceived with a view to their democratic evolution".[clxix] This rosy account avoided any mention of de Gaulle's opposition to local nationalists, or of local opposition to joining the Fifth Republic, but did go so far as to pay homage to Pouvanaa, Teariki and Sanford for their furtherance of Polynesian identity through support for the 1977 statute. These comments preceded the observation that the previous statute had not gone far enough in granting self-rule. This observation could be regarded as out of place coming from a man who had organised opposition to the pro-independence vote in 1958, supported the arrival of the CEP, and who had criticised the trio in question for their autonomist stances before borrowing their political platform.
On the subject of the implementation of the Internal Autonomy Statute, Flosse mentioned the rapidity and efficiency with which new territorial institutions had been set up, and pointed out that although grey areas remained and further reform would be needed, the legislation was adaptable to change without jeopardising the status of French Polynesia as a TOM. Flosse used his speech at the celebrations to establish the orientations of his administration's political programme. Now that the new territorial administrative structure had been established, work could proceed on social reform "in favour of those most disadvantaged", accords could be arbitrated between employers and unions, and investment could be made in the exploitation of natural resources.[clxx]
At this time, New Caledonia was still embroiled in controversy over self-determination, to the neglect of socio-economic reform. While Fabius and Pisani were confronted with troubles in New Caledonia, Lemoine was able to supervise the implementation of the Autonomy Statute. He did so for the first 18 months following its promulgation in September 1984, through until the Socialist defeat in the legislative elections of March 1986.
While New Caledonian political factions were at loggerheads with Paris in the first months of 1985, relations between the French Polynesian Government and Paris were exceedingly amenable, considering the different political pedigrees of their respective representatives. Far from bringing wrack and ruin at the hands of the PC, as had been suggested by some local Giscardians in 1980, Socialist rule had proved administratively fruitful. The period of conservative dominance in Papeete which coincided with PS dominance in Paris produced a high level of accord and cooperation rather than the dissent and discord which might have been expected. The marginal status of the Maohi nationalists in French Polynesia, the weight of territorial dependence on funds from Paris, and Socialist preparedness to meet most of the demands of the Tahoeraa Huiraatira, lay at the source of this political marriage of convenience.
After the State-Territorial Coordinating Committee established by the Internal Autonomy Statute held its first meeting in Paris during the first week of December 1985, Lemoine was able to present a positive balance sheet of the first fourteen months of the new administrative arrangements, asserting that they had met local demands and responded to Socialist policy of recognising local conditions in the DOM-TOM.[clxxi]
The Limits of Autonomy
Despite prevailing good will between Papeete and Paris from September 1984 to March 1986, this period did not pass without some controversy. The form of autonomy which the Internal Autonomy Statute created had its limits. The sovereignty boundaries which could not be crossed involved French Polynesian external relations with the other Pacific TOM, with the South Pacific region and, later, with Europe. In his enthusiasm to exercise greater powers on behalf of the territory, and driven by partisan political opportunism, in 1985 Flosse collided with the first of the barriers which these limits imposed.
Flosse aroused the ire of Pisani on 13 February 1985 when he arrived in Nouméa to sign an "Alliance of the French Pacific Territories".[clxxii] Acting as Presidents of the Territorial Governments of New Caledonia and French Polynesia, Ukeiwé and Flosse cosigned a document which had been approved by the Territorial Assemblies of both TOM.[clxxiii] Consisting of 12 articles, the Interterritorial Alliance was a tool for expressing the united conservative opposition of the territorial administrations of the three Pacific TOM to the concept of New Caledonian independence. The document stressed the necessity of preserving the Republican values and democratic traditions of France at a time when these were purportedly in danger. Negative, veiled reference to the dangers of Kanak nationalism was contrasted with the necessity for "observance of the Constitution", "the defence of the Free World in this part of the world", and the maintenance of "the integrity of national territory". The Alliance stressed pan-TOM unity. The rest of the text established a conference of Territorial Presidents which would be held four times a year, with a Secretariat as well as a Permanent Interterritorial Commission comprised of two Territorial Councillors or Ministers from each territory. This structure was to be financed from territorial budgets. At the time of the signature of the Alliance, Wallis and Futuna was not a party to the document, though provision was included for it to join. From 6 to 14 February 1985 an RPCR delegation to Mata Utu lobbied the Territorial Assembly and custom representatives there to back the Alliance. The delegation claimed to have Wallis and Futuna's "yes in principle", with Benjamin Brial expressing the "total support" of the local branch of the RPR.[clxxiv]
The Interterritorial Alliance constituted Flosse's expression of solidarity with the RPCR, and opposition to Kanak nationalism. While Flosse had embraced internal autonomy for French Polynesia, he shunned the concept of independence in association which was proposed by Pisani for New Caledonia in January 1985. At the time of the signature of the Interterritorial Alliance, Flosse advocated that in the absence of a sympathetic government in Paris, it was up to the representatives of the Pacific TOM to unite and display their attachment to France, their rejection of any possible balkanisation of the French Pacific, and their need for unity in the face of presumed foreign threats.[clxxv] In backing the RPCR, Flosse used his status as the highest French Polynesian political representative to act as the protector of French Polynesian immigrants in New Caledonia.[clxxvi] Among the inhabitants of Thio, the mining settlement occupied by the FLNKS in late 1984, were around 700 Polynesians, including Wallisians and Tahitians.[clxxvii]
In March 1985, the alliance partners began consideration of a common market for the French Pacific, which would involve the establishment of a free trade zone.[clxxviii] This proposition was cut short by Socialist opposition to the Interterritorial Alliance. Pisani was unimpressed with the pact. He declared it both illegal and unconstitutional and began legal proceedings against it at the time of its signature.[clxxix] He contended that Flosse and Ukeiwé had exceeded their authority and were infringing domains which were the concern of the French State. He had grounds for asserting this. Article 3 of the Interterritorial Alliance, which envisaged that alliance members would establish direct contacts with foreign South Pacific territories, was a direct challenge to state authority over foreign affairs. Flosse and Ukeiwé responded by publicly denouncing the Pisani Plan, and by claiming that as a Socialist appointee Pisani was unfit to represent France because he lacked impartiality.[clxxx] Neither Flosse nor Ukeiwé were particularly notable for their objectivity over this matter themselves, and it is difficult to avoid the conclusion that the Interterritorial Alliance was a product of the sort of partisan attitudes for which they berated Pisani.
On 9 April 1985, the New Caledonian Administrative Tribunal annulled the Interterritorial Alliance, judging that Ukeiwé had exceeded the constitutional powers of the Territorial President as outlined under the Lemoine Statute.[clxxxi] Specifically, relations with foreign powers lay beyond the competences outlined in the statutory regulations. Flosse and Ukeiwé circumvented this annulment by signing another alliance in Papeete on 29 June 1985. The new text was exactly the same as the one which had preceded it, except that it dropped all mention of territorial powers of negotiation with foreign states.[clxxxii] By this stage the achievement of the Interterritorial Alliance was more rhetorical than anything else. Since June 1985, nothing has come of the Alliance. When the presumed imminence of plans for New Caledonian independence in association with France receded, so too did Flosse and Ukeiwé's front against it.
In August 1985, Flosse was to have another of his initiatives as Territorial President rebuffed. He attended a South Pacific Forum meeting on Rarotonga in the Cook Islands with the aim of obtaining observer status for French Polynesia. With the sponsorship of the Cook Islands, Flosse argued with Forum members that French Polynesia should receive observer status so that it might be "both the voice of France and that of French Polynesia within the South Pacific Forum".[clxxxiii] He indicated that the status of French Polynesia was now comparable to that of the Cook Islands, which had full member status in the Forum in spite of not being a fully independent State. French Polynesia was able to attend South Pacific Commission meetings; by logical extension it should be able to attend Forum meetings as well. The response of the South Pacific Forum was that French Polynesian autonomy was not as far evolved as that of the Cook Islands. Flosse was still, in essence, a French representative, not a Polynesian one. As such he would be denied observer status, as the Forum was a political organisation for South Pacific nations rather than for local representatives of a European power.[clxxxiv]
The European connection French Polynesia enjoyed through France came to impinge on the sphere of territorial administration under the Internal Autonomy Statute during the late 1980s. Since the birth of the EEC in 1957, French Polynesia and the other Pacific TOM had been considered community members, falling within the Treaty of Rome's category of Overseas Country or Territory.[clxxxv] French membership of the European Community had resulted in certain advantages for territorial trade. Products could be exported to Europe free of customs duty due to the islands' status as a European Overseas Territory, while European imports were still subjected to territorial import tariffs, provided that no discrimination was exercised over products originating from different Community members.[clxxxvi] Moreover, French Polynesian copra exports benefited from European Community subsidies.[clxxxvii] As European citizens, French Polynesians since 1959 enjoyed the right of free circulation within the EEC, while reciprocal arrangements did not apply to French Polynesia.[clxxxviii] The territory had also been eligible for European development funding.[clxxxix] Under EEC legislation, French Polynesia and the other Pacific TOM were considered to be little extensions of Europe in the South Pacific, while the fragile nature of their economies and the smallness of their populations were shielded by these and other protective measures. The extent to which European status applied to French Polynesia in other respects was to prompt considerable debate in the territory in the years preceding European Union in 1993.
Speculation centred on whether internal autonomy might be threatened by EC representatives in Brussels and Strasbourg. Although Flosse and Ukeiwé[cxc] have been European parliamentarians, none of the Pacific TOM have permanent direct representation in the European Parliament or in other EC bodies. Generally metropolitan French representatives are considered to speak on the behalf of the Pacific TOM in EC discussions, and are obliged to consult territorial leaders over legislation that is of direct concern to them.[cxci] As is the case with French legislation, Paris can choose to ignore the opinions of territorial leaders, whose role is limited to an advisory capacity. This arrangement has been unsatisfactory on those occasions when the French Polynesian Territorial Government has differed with Paris on certain aspects of EC legislation. Not only may its opinion be ignored by France, but also the territory has no direct recourse to the EC. A similar situation, of course, applies to metropolitan Departments, which are less privileged than French Polynesia in that their leaders are not able to impose tariffs to protect the local economy. For example, the entry of Spain and Portugal into the EEC affected the wine producers of southern France, as cheaper Portuguese and Spanish wines were able to enter the French market without hindrance.
Of the various measures envisaged for European Union in 1993, those enabling the lifting of border controls and visa restrictions for European citizens seeking to live and work in other member countries aroused the greatest disquiet in French Polynesia. Visions of hordes of sun-seeking Europeans hoping to live and work on the territory's renowned tropical islands existed in the minds of certain territorial leaders. Local politicians speculated that such an influx would deprive French Polynesians of job opportunities, as the labour market would be flooded by well-educated outsiders. The spectre of European firms moving in to buy up large portions of the local economy was also raised.[cxcii] Paris has tended to dismiss or ignore such concerns as groundless, and has not always shown great concern in calming them.
The first major open expression of French Polynesian discontent with French handling of European integration came in 1989. In May of that year, the Territorial Assembly received the text of an EC bill which would permit European doctors and veterinarians to establish themselves freely anywhere in the EC. On the grounds that European immigrants might put such local professionals out of work, the Territorial Assembly unanimously opposed the bill in a deliberation on 26 May, only to discover that the bill had already been approved by France.[cxciii]
The Territorial Government united with opposition parties and called on voters in the territory to protest by boycotting the European parliamentary elections in June 1989. On polling day, 18 June, only 10.76% of the local electorate voted.[cxciv] This turnout showed the effects of a greater electoral boycott than any the FLNKS had organised in New Caledonia. Even compared with the traditionally poor French Polynesian participation rates in European elections, this was a low turnout. In the European elections of June 1979, 56.66% of registered voters had cast votes.[cxcv] In June 1984, 58.48% of registered voters had participated.[cxcvi] It was speculated that most of the minority who voted in June 1989 consisted of metropolitan French living in French Polynesia.[cxcvii]
In the National Assembly Alexandre Léontieff, at that time Deputy for West Polynesia, called on the Rocard Government to permit French Polynesia to negotiate directly with the EC in defence of its interests.[cxcviii] Brice Lalonde, the Secretary of State to Environmental Affairs, replied on behalf of Le Pensec, promising that the Government would endeavour to take French Polynesia into account in future EC negotiations, and would continue consulting the territory, although he made no response to Léontieff's demand for direct EC representation. Not surprisingly, French Polynesian autonomy did not stretch to the extent of permitting independent representation to the EC.
The question of European immigration and investment in French Polynesia became more pressing as European Union approached. Article 8(a) of the Maastricht Treaty permitted European citizens to circulate and settle freely in the EC without immigration controls,[cxcix] while barriers to foreign investment were also lifted. Senator Millaud expressed general support for European Union with reservations in these fields. He pointed out that although under article 3 of the Internal Autonomy Statute the High Commissioner controlled immigration, and under article 31 had to consult the Territorial Government on immigration permits, this arrangement might be overridden by the Maastricht Treaty. European citizens refused residence in French Polynesia could contest this veto by invoking EC arbitration on the grounds of discrimination contrary to articles 8D and 138D of the Treaty.[cc] Article 3 of the Maastricht Treaty, which envisaged fixing joint European policy on agriculture, fisheries and tourism, represented another contentious point for Millaud.[cci] He expressed the reservation that the territorial economy might end up being adversely affected by ill-considered decisions made in Strasbourg and Brussels.[ccii]
In 1989, Léontieff was highly critical of European integration,[cciii] although oddly he did not doubt its economic and social benefits for French Polynesia. He differed from Flosse, who had serious doubts about the implications for the territory, and who called for French Polynesian voters to abstain from the French referendum on the Maastricht Treaty in September 1992.[cciv] Léontieff advocated a vote for European Union, arguing that the greater export opportunities it offered outweighed possible immigration problems. Vernaudon and Millaud, the other two French Polynesian parliamentary representatives at the time, broadly agreed with Léontieff, but of the three, Léontieff was the most vigorous in his support.[ccv]
Addressing Millaud's reservations, Léontieff pointed to article 232 of the Treaty and claimed that its provisions for the control of European immigration to Overseas Territories would prevent a European invasion of French Polynesia. Léontieff also supported the Treaty because it recognised the autonomy of the Pacific TOM. Although article 227 declared that in the case of policy divergence between the EC and an Overseas Country or Territory, the European Council would have the final say, a declaration appended to the Treaty allowed a contrary resolution. Where differences were marked, a member country and its Overseas Territory could act in the interests of the territory and override the European Council.[ccvi] Such a measure could be applied to European immigration and investment in French Polynesia, as well as to the application of economic policy. In the light of this declaration, France was able to block European immigration and investment deemed harmful to French Polynesian interests, and to veto any European economic policy ill-adapted to it or the other Pacific TOM.
Debate in Papeete over the implications of European integration for the Internal Autonomy Statute brought into contention the durability of the legislation, and the possibility that it might be overruled unilaterally by forces beyond the control of the Territorial Government. With the aim of strengthening their autonomy French Polynesian representatives have, since 1984, lobbied Paris for various modifications to the Statute.
During cohabitation from 1986 to 1988, this lobbying did not make any notable progress. While the Chirac Government made vigorous efforts to overturn Socialist legislation for New Caledonia implemented between 1981 and 1986, the same administration was reluctant to tinker with the Internal Autonomy Statute. It had no mandate or inclination to revise legislation which had been unanimously approved by the National Assembly, and feted by RPR representatives in the French Polynesian Government. Moreover although the Statute was conceived of as open to further change, it had only been in operation for 18 months at the time of Chirac's accession to government. Insufficient time had passed for justifiable major revisions to be implemented. To attempt legislative revisions in French Polynesia as were undertaken in New Caledonia would have been unnecessary and pointless. Pons announced during a visit to Papeete in May 1986 that he saw no need to enlarge French Polynesian autonomy, and warned that going further in that direction might provide inadvertent encouragement to local nationalists.[ccvii]
The appointment of Rocard as Prime Minister in May 1988 marked the beginning of a new era for French Polynesia as it did for New Caledonia. The Rocard Government was confronted with major changes in the French Polynesian political landscape since the Socialists had left government in March 1986. (Tables 39, 40)
Tahoeraa Huiraatira was no longer pre-eminent in local politics, having been displaced in a bout of infighting that took place in 1987. The leader of this dissent was Alexandre Léontieff, who was then Minister for the Economy, Tourism and the Sea. Discontented with territorial social and economic policies, which had become discredited by the social disharmony evident in the Papeete riot of October 1987, Léontieff decided to break away from the Territorial Government.[ccviii] On 1 December 1987, along with Georges Kelly, the Agriculture Minister, and Huguette Hong Kiou, Social Affairs Minister, he resigned from the Government.[ccix] At this time, Flosse was in Paris, fulfilling his duties as Secretary of State to the South Pacific, an appointment he had received from Chirac in March 1986. He had resigned from the post of Territorial President on 9 February 1987, because of the pressure of his ministerial duties, and had been replaced three days later by his associate Jacques Teuira.[ccx] Since February, Flosse had been constrained to devote less attention to territorial politics because of his series of ministerial visits around the Pacific. Flosse returned to Papeete on 3 December to find Tahoeraa Huiraatira and the Territorial Government in a state of disarray. Faced with a motion of censure from 28 of the 41 members of the Territorial Assembly, including 14 majority Councillors, on 7 December Teuira resigned from the territorial presidency.[ccxi]
He was replaced by Alexandre Léontieff two days later.[ccxii] That month Léontieff formed a new party, Te Tiarama (The Torch), from the Tahoeraa Huiraatira members who had sided with him. He consolidated his power through the support of autonomist and Maohi nationalist representatives. In all, his new majority encompassed representatives from ten different parties. Their unity was cemented as much by their common dislike of Flosse as by their hopes for Léontieff's vision of a territorial recovery plan. It was Léontieff who was to be instrumental in the renegotiation of the Internal Autonomy Statute, although at the time of his election, this prospect was considered a less pressing matter than various development plans.[ccxiii]
Widespread backing for Léontieff during the first months of his administration was apparent when he stood for re-election as Deputy for West Polynesia in the legislative elections of June 1988. (Table 36) In March 1986, he had been elected to the seat on an RPR ticket, at the same time as Flosse had won the East Polynesian seat for the party. (Table 33) By June 1988, Léontieff's political alignment was perplexing. He was described by Le Monde in its electoral results as standing on an "RPR/PS" platform,[ccxiv] while not really belonging to either camp. It was true that he had campaigned for Chirac in the presidential elections,[ccxv] in which Mitterrand had gained an absolute majority of the vote in French Polynesia. (Table 35) However Léontieff was not a member of Chirac's inner circle as Flosse was, and had not been on good terms with the Prime Minister after having won the territorial presidency.[ccxvi] Neither had Léontieff joined the PS, although he and his ally Vernaudon had Socialist backing in 1988 because of their challenge to Flosse's authority and their consequent nuisance value to Chirac. Spelling a major reverse for the Tahoeraa Huiraatira-RPR axis, Léontieff was re-elected in June 1988, while Flosse lost his seat to Vernaudon, an independent presidential majority candidate.[ccxvii] By the time of his unsuccessful attempt at re-election in the legislative elections of March 1993, (Table 42) Léontieff had shifted allegiance to the UDF. This move finalised his break with the RPR or, more to the point, with Flosse, its pre-eminent spokesman in French Polynesia.[ccxviii] Evident in the career of Léontieff is the extent to which personality politics rather than political ideology played a determining role. Metropolitan French political categories such as ‘Left' and 'Right' are inadequate for defining the fickle shifts of loyalties and party allegiances in Papeete.
Thanks to the majority support of a governing coalition which even included Ia Mana representatives, and in spite of his past associations with the RPR, in mid-1988 Léontieff found himself comfortably placed to negotiate with the Rocard Government. Léontieff wished, as Flosse had, to see the powers of the territory extended beyond the confines of the Internal Autonomy Statute. This goal was well in keeping with the open-ended nature of the terms of the Statute, and Paris was receptive to certain revisions of its text. Discussions on redrafting the legislation took place between territorial representatives and Le Pensec in Paris in July 1989. Le Pensec visited Papeete that month to announce that a "modernisation" of the Internal Autonomy Statute would be carried out in the months to follow.[ccxix] Rocard confirmed this undertaking during his own visit to French Polynesia from 24 to 27 August 1989. He pronounced himself prepared to adopt new measures, namely "to clarify relations between the Territorial Government and the Assembly, [...] to develop the range of responsibilities of the Territory, particularly in regional economic relations, [...] to make supplementary guarantees de rigueur in the management of public affairs with the creation of a Territorial Audit Chamber, [...] to develop structures for co-ordination with the archipelagoes".[ccxx] The aim of such reform was presented by Rocard and Le Pensec as fine-tuning rather than as a major overhaul, as they both observed that the Internal Autonomy Statute had largely functioned satisfactorily during its first five years.
The modifications to the legislation were codified with the promulgation of Law no.90-612 in July 1990.[ccxxi] The changes had received the unanimous approval of the Senate on 17 April 1990,[ccxxii] and had been adopted by a majority of the National Assembly with PS and UDF backing. The RPR and the UDC[ccxxiii] opposed the revision of the Internal Autonomy Statute on the basis that increased territorial autonomy was unnecessary. The PC abstained. The Communists were not opposed to the principle of increasing territorial responsibilities, but did not agree with the revisions proposed.[ccxxiv] This law was consistent with the proposals that Rocard had outlined eleven months before and enhanced the Internal Autonomy Statute. Many of the changes to the Statute were cosmetic, consisting of clarifications of passages which had been found ambiguous. For example, article 3, subsection 5 of the 1984 legislation stipulating state control over foreign commerce, with the exception of territorial control over the setting of the annual import programme and the level of territorial imports under articles 25(9) and 26(1) was compressed into a single clause. The other changes concerning state authority were similarly minor. Article 3, subsection 13, tidied up the outline of the State's role in the functioning of the justice system, for which it assumed the administrative costs, with some minor exceptions. A section in article 3, which dealt with the territorial EEZ, defined the procedure by which the territory would be conceded the exploration and exploitation rights to natural resources, without in any way threatening state sovereignty in this domain.
Overall though, the territory benefited from various concessionary measures implemented by Law no.90-612. Under article 5, the number of Ministers in the Territorial Government was increased from a range of six to ten to six to 12, a change which both lightened the workload of individual Ministers, and enlarged the ministerial payroll. Article 28 permitted the Territorial Government to authorise all direct foreign (non-French) investments in French Polynesia, whereas previously it had not been competent if such investment exceeded 80MFF in value. This was a potentially important change. An addition to article 31 served to address local concerns about immigration control by instituting a State-Territorial Consultative Immigration Committee. The Territorial President enjoyed enhanced status. Under article 37, the requirement to submit the presidential list of Ministers to the Territorial Assembly for approval was abrogated.[ccxxv] The President was allowed greater powers of representation to international fora. Proposals could be made by the President to the State for the opening of negotiations with Pacific nations in any field relevant to French Polynesia. Under article 39, the President was additionally guaranteed representation at such negotiations, and could be designated to represent the French Republic either in Pacific international organisations, or in the United Nations.
The Territorial Assembly, although deprived of its power of veto over the composition of Territorial Governments, retained its capacity to call a no confidence vote, and under article 52 bis was given financial autonomy from the Government by being allowed to set its own budget, with the Territorial Assembly President assuming charge of its accounts. The Economic and Social Committee was renamed the Economic, Social and Cultural Council in a revision of articles 82 to 89, a modification indicative of a wider advisory role to the Territorial Assembly than it had held previously.
A major addition to the territorial administration outlined by Law no.90-612 was the creation, under article 89 bis, of Archipelago Councils. One of these was envisaged each for the Leeward Islands, the Windward Islands, the Austral Islands, the Tuamotu and Gambier Islands, and the Marquesa Islands. Comprised of a mix of local body and territorial representatives, these bodies were to be consulted by the Territorial President over territorial development plans that might touch upon them. Their advisory role extended to social and cultural as well as economic affairs. The Archipelago Councils addressed long-standing complaints, particularly from the distant Marquesas, that the interests of the Society Islands tended to be over-represented at territorial level due to their demographic weight.[ccxxvi] Unfortunately for the outer islands, these administrative entities were neglected by the Territorial Government upon the return by Flosse to the office of Territorial President in April 1991.[ccxxvii]
Addressing to some extent an issue which had not received any great attention in the original text of the Internal Autonomy Statute, article 90 bis of Law no.90-612 set up a "college of experts" to advise the Territorial Assembly on land reform, a measure designed to improve official adjudication of ownership disputes. This college remained a paper entity, and no effort has been made to set it up in spite of ongoing land disputes.[ccxxviii] The Territorial Government has shown inertia over land reform issues, both because of their complexity, and because it has been distracted by a range of other socio-economic questions, and political infighting since 1984. Land issues persisted regardless. By early 1996 they were a significant source of political division in the Territory. In January 1996, squatters occupied land in Punavia, a suburb of Papeete, where the Hôtel Meridien chain was in the process of building a new eight-storey hotel with 350 rooms and 12 bungalows.[ccxxix] During excavations a traditional Tahitian burial site had been unearthed, provoking calls for the return of the land to its ancestral owners and the immediate halt of the profanation of graves. In an action reminiscent of the Bastion Point incident in Auckland, hundreds of gendarmes descended on the site to clear out occupiers, and the area was placed under permanent police guard.[ccxxx] The Territorial Government's decision to ignore land issues earlier in the decade did not constitute a responsible administrative approach, either to the interests of potential commercial investors in the territory, or to those of indigenous landowners. As Bernard Poirine has pointed out, in the absence of any long-term policy on the difficult relationship between commercial investment and indigenous land rights, the Territorial Government has condemned itself to repetitive, circular arguing each time a new development project encounters opposition from indigenous land owners.[ccxxxi]
French Polynesian land reform has not become the explosive issue that it has in New Caledonia, although it has been subject to the clash of traditional and European values. The primacy of individual over collective ownership has been challenged since the late 1980s by local nationalists and tribal leaders. Individual landholding had come to dominate the urban areas of the Society Islands, where tribal lands had been appropriated by the State. The legality of many of these appropriations has been attacked by those Polynesians who had lost their land, but French and territorial law continued to favour individual ownership.[ccxxxii] Tahoeraa Huiraatira leaders argued that traditional land tenure was unproductive, archaic, and represented a hindrance to territorial development.[ccxxxiii] As with the RPCR in New Caledonia, the party would have preferred to dismantle tribal holdings to allow the establishment of commercially viable freehold farms.
Such options were restricted by the fact that traditional collective subsistence tenure remained dominant outside the urban parts of the Society Islands where European economic values were most strongly established.[ccxxxiv] Plans prepared by Territorial Government for tourist and aquaculture investments have on occasion run into opposition from local landowners even within the Society Islands. The monarchist Pomare Party has been particularly active in this field since the 1980s, organising locals to protest against territorial development projects with land occupations reminiscent of those conducted by the FI and FLNKS.[ccxxxv] By 1992, broader interest in land and environmental issues was demonstrated with the foundation of Hiti Tau.[ccxxxvi] By 1995 Hiti Tau had grown into a territorial network of over forty non-government and community groups, working on Tahiti, Moorea and the outer archipelagoes, serving as evidence that indigenous concern of land and environmental issues was not about to go away. To what extent an equilibrium might be established between the conflicting interests of the Territorial Government and tribal and community leaders over land issues was still to be resolved in the 1990s. In 1989, around 2,000 cases of land litigation were presented, about one third of the court cases which took place in the territory that year.[ccxxxvii] Population growth concurrent with attempts at local development by the Territorial Government are likely to result in continuing tensions in this area in years to come. FI and FLNKS agitation forced the French Government to pay greater attention to New Caledonian land reform, and the creation of bodies such as ADRAF. No equivalent body exists in French Polynesia, although the need for one is evident, as is the need for greater legal recognition of tribal land ownership if French Polynesia is to avoid the confrontations New Caledonia experienced over land reform. Before such an organisation can be established, the Territorial Government will need to abandon its past apathy over land reform.
Law no.90-612 did not represent the conclusion of the possibilities of the Internal Autonomy Statute. French Polynesian representatives have continued to lobby Paris for increased powers but, in the absence of majority voter support for self-determination, the French State is not likely to allow autonomy to develop into independence in the near future. Paris still maintains its capacity to abrogate some or all of the Internal Autonomy Statute, in spite of measures by Alexandre Léontieff to lessen the facility with which a French Government might do this unilaterally. In 1992 he tabled an amendment in Parliament to rewrite article 74 of the French Constitution as part of a bill designed to adapt the Constitution to reflect the implications of European Union. This amendment accorded the administrative statutes of the TOM "loi organique" status, meaning that they could only be revised through the vote of an absolute majority in Parliament.[ccxxxviii] It was adopted into the French Constitution in June 1992.[ccxxxix] An affirmation of the statutory status quo for the French Pacific, this legislation nevertheless did not exclude the prospect of further reform. In November 1995, Flosse once again played the autonomist card by proposing a redrafting of the Territorial Autonomy Statute. The draft bill, which received the support of 30 out of 36 members of the Territorial Assembly, proposed increased territorial control over the French Polynesian EEZ and the media, as well as greater powers for the Territorial President and Government.[ccxl] Notable among these was the proposal that Territorial Councillors should be called "Deputies" a term restricted to members of the French National Assembly. It was apparent from such proposals that the last word had not been heard with regard to rejigging territorial administrative structures to the benefit of those in power in Papeete. As in the past however, there was no suggestion from Flosse that such greater responsibilities were to be a prelude to independence.
Socio-Economic Policy 1981 to 1991
While the various French Governments appointed under Mitterrand's presidency managed to resolve French Polynesian administrative demands by ceding a greater degree of autonomy, and may continue to do so under Chirac's presidency, the responses of Paris to social and economic issues have neither broken territorial financial dependence on metropolitan France, nor reduced social inequalities, nor stimulated economic recovery, three prospects deemed desirable by territorial leaders, French Governments and state planners since the 1970s.
Whether or not dependence was necessarily bad for French Polynesia, or whether a major reduction of it was possible, might validly be asked. The implantation of the CEP produced a period of unprecedented economic prosperity for part of the local population. For the majority of the inhabitants, mainly the Polynesians, who were not major beneficiaries of this economic prosperity, the effects were not so positive. The implantation of the CEP brought with it a high inflation rate and raised costs of living. Indigenous migration to Papeete deprived the agricultural sector of personnel, depopulated the outer islands, and resulted in the creation of a suburban underclass which hoped to gain a share in the prosperity but was poorly integrated for want of skills.
As seen from Paris, perhaps the greatest disadvantage of the economic prosperity which came with the arrival of the CEP was the manner in which it raised the level of local affluence without resulting in increased territorial economic self-reliance. French Polynesians became accustomed to living a modern consumer lifestyle which the local economy could not have sustained unaided by state spending and subsidies. Succeeding Governments in Paris claimed to wish to see the lessening of territorial reliance on mainland France through the revival of local agriculture and the encouragement of investment in tourism and light industry. This was an unrealistic hope so long as the most personally profitable areas of employment in French Polynesia remained in the 'unproductive' sectors of the state and territorial administration. It was difficult to redeploy the workforce into areas which the State desired to see expanded. Those locals who were in well-paid, secure jobs in the state and territorial public services were unlikely to wish to go into business or take up agriculture. Dependence on imported foodstuffs and consumer items had developed in the 1980s to the point that a return to the less dependent times of the 1950s would be politically untenable. The introduction of import quotas would have caused a huge drop in territorial revenue, the collapse of a business sector reliant on imports, and would have resulted in widespread unemployment. Considering the population increase in French Polynesia since the 1960s, and the limited local resources, the territory is unlikely ever to be largely financially self-sufficient, any more than any of the sovereign island states of the South Pacific are. Political independence for places such as Vanuatu and the Cook Islands has not been accompanied by great progress towards economic independence. Their governments remain reliant on foreign aid and development loans for their financial equilibrium, just as French Polynesia depends on aid, subsidies and loans from Paris. However unbridgeable the gap between expectation and reality might be, if judged by the criteria of state and territorial officialdom, lack of great progress in these three fields has been a major shortcoming in French policy in the territory during Mitterrand's period as President.
The absence of a nationalist movement as disruptive as the FLNKS allowed Paris to concentrate on promoting territorial economic expansion to an extent not possible in New Caledonia for much of the 1980s. Yet at the end of that decade prospects for New Caledonian development under the Matignon Accords appeared sounder than the socio-economic situation of French Polynesia.[ccxli] In spite of a plethora of government development programmes, over a decade since Ia Mana's promises, proffered in 1981, of radical and egalitarian Socialist social and economic reconstruction for French Polynesia directed from Paris, no such changes occurred.
Like statute reform generally in the Pacific TOM, the direction of French Polynesian socio-economic policy was conditioned by criteria determined in Paris. As is discussed below, territorial leaders have been deficient in formulating original approaches to local developmental issues since attaining internal autonomy in 1984. Although PS, as well as UDF and RPR leaders, have periodically proclaimed the need for economic diversification, the reduction of dependence on metropolitan France, and the promotion of social equality, no fundamental change in the territorial economy and society has been effected by these parties in government, nor was it likely to occur, so long as the French Polynesian economy remained dependent on the CEP. Increased territorial economic dependence and growing social inequality were among the attendant effects of the CEP's presence, as has been explained earlier. It was no coincidence that these features persisted until April 1992 alongside the French Government's resolve to continue nuclear testing operations, while the eventual ending of nuclear testing in French Polynesia by 1996 raised grave questions as to what other options might maintain the territory's standard of living.
Prior to April 1992, having chosen to maintain the nuclear-based economy in French Polynesia established by their Gaullist and Giscardian predecessors, Socialist Ministers likewise chose to emulate their approach to local social and economic development. This approach entailed planning orientated towards the encouragement of the diversification of local production and the growth of a more export-orientated economy, while maintaining the CEP and its accompanying state of economic dependence. Not surprisingly, the CEP's presence continued to outweigh measures promoting territorial self-sufficiency. The CEP and its accompanying support services represented, along with the state funding they brought into the islands, the most important feature of territorial economic life throughout the 1980s. In 1988, CEP and military expenditure in French Polynesia was equivalent to 57.0% of the territorial budget and was, of course, supplementary to it.[ccxlii] Defence spending overall accounted for 55.0% of state expenditure in French Polynesia that year, the equivalent of 18.7% of territorial GDP.[ccxliii]
Under Mitterrand the establishment of French Polynesian internal administrative autonomy was not been accompanied by economic independence from France. While the French Polynesian cash economy was more substantial than that of Wallis and Futuna, it had yet to meet the level of New Caledonian self-sufficiency which, it should be observed, was itself relatively low by the standards of developed nations. (Tables 6, 25) In the 1990s, the illusory goal of French Polynesian territorial self-sufficiency represented only a slightly less distant prospect than it did in the early 1980s. There had been no export-led economic recovery in the territory of the sort considered desirable by the Eighth Plan and its successors, and French Polynesia remained dependent on imported goods. From 1983 to 1991, the coverage rate of imports by exports did grow from 6.5% to 14.0%. This trend represented only the beginning of a serious diminution of dependence. (Table 37) From 1977 to 1989 exports contributed a low average contribution of 0.9% to annual territorial growth in GDP.[ccxliv] Import substitution, another orientation deemed desirable by the Eighth Plan to reduce local demands on expensive imported goods, likewise proved to be of marginal importance. From 1977 to 1989 import substitution contributed an average of 0.7% to the total growth of GDP per annum.[ccxlv] Trade dependence on metropolitan France persisted. The largest supplier of imports in 1991 was metropolitan France. Of all imports that year, French goods represented the greatest single proportion, at 48.24% of the total value.[ccxlvi]
In the absence of any Socialist willingness to abandon nuclear testing, there was to be no major challenge to the shape of a territorial society dependent on the CEP and state administrative funds for its existence. The priorities in social and economic changes begun in French Polynesia under Giscard d'Estaing were to retain their validity and formed the basis for continued development work in the 1980s. Socialist policy for the territory failed to differ with the orientations of Giscardian reformism to the extent that occurred in New Caledonia. Without a large Polynesian nationalist movement, there was to be no Socialist championing of Maohi identity to the degree that there was of Kanak identity, and no national debate on Maohi rights. Without an aggravating spur to their social consciences like the FLNKS, Socialist Ministers were not prompted to formulate original solutions to socio-economic questions in French Polynesia to the extent that they attempted them in New Caledonia. Socialist recognition of Melanesian cultural identity and land rights under the Nainville les Roches declaration, the Pisani/Fabius Interim Statute, and the Matignon Accords, went far beyond state recognition of the indigenous population of French Polynesia. Prevalent in the implementation of socio-economic reform in French Polynesia by Socialist Governments was the dearth of leftist ideological thinking apparent in their handling of development issues in Wallis and Futuna.
The major axes of economic development in the Eighth Plan (1981 to 1985) - financial and technical assistance for professional training, public works construction, tourism projects, the expansion of aquacultural and agricultural production, as well as manufacturing - continued into the 1990s on the courses that had been determined over a decade earlier. The groundwork for many areas of developmental research had been laid in the 1970s. Aquaculture research, begun in the islands by the Pacific Oceanological Centre in 1973, was continued,[ccxlvii] as were renewable sea and solar energy projects started in 1978 by the French Atomic Energy Commission.[ccxlviii] These schemes began producing tangible results in the 1980s.
The establishment of Archipelago Councils in 1990 marked the extension of decentralisation measures begun in the early 1970s, when a territory-wide network of communes had been founded, and greater territorial funding had been channelled into local government. Development boards established in the 1970s, such as the Intercommunal Equalisation Fund in 1971,[ccxlix] and the Management and Development Fund of the Islands of French Polynesia in 1979,[ccl] respectively offered funding for communal administration and island development. Such measures to shore up the outer islands against depopulation, underdevelopment and economic decline by establishing viable cash economies were to be continued in the 1980s and early 1990s. Infrastructure renovation in the form of improved inter-island transport and communications was another aspect of decentralisation measures which were extremely important in a territory with a land and marine surface area equivalent to that of Europe, upon which were scattered small island populations living hundreds or thousands of kilometres apart.
The aim of such reforms has been to promote local development to counteract the concentration of population and economic activity on Tahiti. The drawback of these changes has been the expansion of local government bureaucracy on to islands, many of which had not experienced its permanent presence before. Miniature equivalents of what happened on Tahiti were established. A fortunate minority received employment in the new local government services, receiving a level of income that previously would not have been possible. Thus were created a privileged social group and income disparities which had not existed earlier. Rather than necessarily creating new work in the primary sector, the increase of bureaucracy in the islands expanded the tertiary sector, and imposed a greater financial burden on the Territorial Government.
Social reform in the territory was to present the governments of the 1980s with their greatest challenge. How to improve the living standards of slum dwellers who had already migrated to Tahiti in search of employment opportunities not offered in the outer isles was a difficult proposition. The Eighth Plan offered the nostrums of improving the education of such indigenous inhabitants to increase their chances of employment, and the provision of further public health and housing, alongside its vague mention of encouraging the greater participation of DOM-TOM inhabitants in administrative decisions affecting them. The Internal Autonomy Statute responded to this last consideration, but Territorial Governments since 1984 were to find themselves hard put to provide improved social services.
There remained the issue of the gap between public and private sector wages. Although in the end personal income tax was not introduced by Dijoud, it appeared likely that the Mauroy Government would adopt the idea in order to bring about wealth redistribution by providing territorial funding through taxes for social welfare measures. The replacement of import levies with personal taxation might also lower consumer prices on imported goods.
Such areas were the principal concerns and axes of development at the beginning of the 1980s. The rest of this section will examine how development theories expounded in Paris, and adopted by Territorial Governments since 1984, failed to produce radically improved living standards and economic self-sufficiency in French Polynesia. The seriousness of this problem was compounded by a worsening series of territorial budget overruns from the late 1980s caused by the profligate spending of the Territorial Government and worsened by the reduction and eventual halt in the activities of the CEP.
During his visit to French Polynesia in August 1981, as Secretary of State to the DOM-TOM Emmanuelli addressed the themes of greater territorial self-reliance through the growth of a productive economy, and the reduction of social inequalities. Like Pons six years later, he toured the slums on the outskirts of greater Papeete. Afterwards Emmanuelli proclaimed the need to redistribute local wealth through the introduction of personal income tax and greater social welfare funding.[ccli] Emmanuelli called for fiscal reform which would redistribute income to the benefit of the poor, and for land reform which would reduce land speculation and lower the inflated real estate prices on Tahiti and elsewhere.
By the end of his period as Secretary of State to the DOM-TOM in March 1983, Emmanuelli had not achieved these ambitious goals. French Polynesia remained dependent on imports, although the value of its exports did rise from 2,800MF CFP in 1979[cclii] to 4,800MF CFP by 1983. (Table 37) This increase was largely a reflection of private investment in pearl production and the rising value of this commodity on the international market at the time, movements for which the State could not plausibly claim credit. During the same period, territorial imports rose in value from 54,800MF CFP to 74,200MF CFP. (Table 37) The coverage rate of exports by imports rose slightly, from 5.1% to 6.5%.[ccliii]
Emmanuelli's period of administration over the DOM-TOM from 1981 to 1983 was too short to allow him to improve the situation of the poor. The dropout rates of Polynesians in schools remained far higher than those of other ethnic groups, and the French education system, run by the State and the territory, had yet to fully respond to indigenous educational needs. It was not until the Internal Autonomy Statute was promulgated in September 1984 that the State recognised the place of indigenous languages in education. Social reform had yet to radically improve the lot of slum dwellers by the early 1980s. In 1982 there were an estimated 22,000 people, around 13% of the population in French Polynesia, either in substandard housing or none at all. This was around the same figure as 13 years before.[ccliv]
The wealth gap between public servants and those unemployed or in the private sector remained. In 1982 state salaries were around 25% higher than private sector ones.[cclv] The lowering of public sector salaries through the reduction of the various benefits accorded to state servants working in French Polynesia, as well as the introduction of a progressive income tax system which would in theory generally lower high incomes, appeared imminent following Emmanuelli's policy announcements in August 1981. But in the early 1980s this did not occur as it did in New Caledonia. One reason for this reluctance was that Emmanuelli and his successors probably feared adverse local reaction. Flosse and Tahoeraa Huiraatira's opposition to tax reform was well known. In any case, after the establishment of greater territorial powers under the Internal Autonomy Statute, the State devolved initiative to such policy initiatives to the Territorial Government.
Although private sector wage levels were increased by raising minimum wages in the 1980s, Socialist Governments did not reduce state employee remuneration to the level of that of the private sector. While the Territorial Government abstained from taking this initiative for its employees too, it should be recognised that the remuneration of territorial public servants was fixed following the rates offered to their state counterparts. Having established salary parameters, it behove Paris to take the initiative and to begin to reduce them. Reluctance to cut the higher wages state servants in the TOM received was partly caused by unwillingness to raise the ire of state sector unions. They and the Territorial Government would have attacked such a move as centralised, authoritarian direction, and would have promoted opposition and controversy which might have damaged state-territorial relations. In the absence of significant support for the PS in French Polynesia during the early 1980s, Socialist Governments acted cautiously.
In 1989, the average monthly wage in agriculture, forestry and fishery work was 115,379F CFP, compared with 175,358F CFP for administration.[cclvi] In this respect, egalitarian Socialist sentiments were not to be put into practice from 1981. In spite of having at times been reiterated during the 1980s, they remained sans lendemain.[cclvii]
In the absence of other sources of income, the Territorial Government continued to impose tariffs on imported goods, and the cost of living consequently remained high. The private sector continued to be disadvantaged in the salary levels it could offer, and was therefore less attractive to locals, who preferred to work for the State or the territory in administrative posts. The agricultural workforce declined as a percentage of the population in paid employment, while the tertiary and secondary sectors increased slightly. In 1980, 5% of paid workers were engaged in the primary sector, compared with 21% in the secondary sector, and 74% in the tertiary sector. By 1990, the balance had gone to 3%, 22% and 75% respectively.[cclviii] This balance had largely been determined before 1981, and was not to any great extent affected by reforms since that year.
Socio-economic policy under Lemoine from 1983 to 1986 progressed along the lines of already-established plans. Due to the preoccupation that statute negotiations represented for the State and the territory, social reform took a back seat during this period. One major social reform however was a housing scheme created in 1983 under a new organisation, the Territorial Reconstruction Agency. This effort was made only after cyclone damage had rendered imperative a new public housing plan.[cclix] From 1983 to 1986, around 2,000 destroyed houses were rebuilt, and around 6,000 damaged ones were repaired using funds from this agency, at a cost of approximately 7,000MF CFP.[cclx] Another project in 1983 aimed to restart the commercial production of vanilla, to the point that 130ha of vanilla trees would eventually be under cultivation, enabling the harvesting of 150t of vanilla by 1990. The project was funded to a level of 33% by EC development funds, 24% by the Territory, and 43% by vanilla producers.[cclxi] As is discussed below, actual production fell far short of these expectations.
The extension of social welfare, housing plans, training and re-employment schemes, as well as the promotion of investment in tourism, manufacturing, aquaculture and agriculture, were priorities confirmed by Chirac and Flosse for the period of cohabitation from March 1986. In Papeete on 26 September 1985 Chirac accused Socialist reforms of not having been forceful enough to halt territorial social and economic stagnation.[cclxii] To some extent, this was true. There had been no export-led recovery from 1981 to 1986. The coverage rate of imports by exports had only risen slightly from 5.1% in 1979 to 5.5% by 1986. (Table 37) Ia Mana's and Mitterrand's declared hopes in 1981 of bringing about fundamental changes in the territory's social and economic structure remained unfulfilled five years later. For example, the unemployment rate had increased from 11.2% in 1983 to 15.0% in 1988.[cclxiii] Job creation could not keep pace with the number of school leavers entering the labour market, resulting in rising youth unemployment.[cclxiv] The RPR nonetheless excessively belittled the role of Socialist Governments in supporting territorial development, heaping praise on Flosse and his colleagues[cclxv] while neglecting to mention that their greater control over territorial development was the result of the creation of the Internal Autonomy Statute, and underestimating the importance of state development funding and expertise in the fields of agriculture and aquaculture.
The Chirac Government displayed a restrained approach to French Polynesian development which differed from its reaction to New Caledonia. It did not dissolve various agencies established since 1981 as it did in New Caledonia, partly because there were fewer to dissolve, but also because their role was not as politicised as those of the Land Office and the various bodies promoting Kanak culture. There was to be no bickering over development funding comparable to that which took place between the three regions administered by the FLNKS and Paris.
In Flosse, Chirac had a party representative who not only dominated the Territorial Government, but who also agreed with his socio-economic policies. Notably absent from this platform was the proposed introduction of personal income tax, or the reduction of public sector salaries in line with those of the private sector. On 15 April 1986 Flosse announced the reform policies of his Territorial Government under cohabitation, which were in fact no different from those of the Eighth Plan. Paradoxically in a territory so dependent on state funding and with little modern heritage of vigorous entrepreneurialism, Flosse stressed the importance of private enterprise, with the qualification that "liberalisation must be tempered by a certain degree of interventionism justified by the greater good."[cclxvi] He thus declared that the Territorial Government would continue its reliance on state funding, and in turn would retain its willingness to fund the social welfare system, and future local development projects. Flosse announced his intention of expanding territorial energy sources, work which had in any case been progressing since the 1970s. His declaration that the territory would become more self-sufficient in food harked back to the Eighth Plan, as did his comments that agricultural exports would be increased, fisheries exploitation would expand, small business would be encouraged, and tourism would be promoted. That such policies needed to be reiterated showed how little progress had been made since the Eighth Plan had been drawn up. Nor was the source of revenue for this work original: Flosse stated he would approach Paris for more development funding.
Apparent in the orientations for territorial development offered by Flosse was an absence of original thinking. While the Territorial Government had attained a degree of administrative autonomy, it showed no signs of exercising any political autonomy in formulating new approaches to socio-economic development issues. No independent study of territorial development was undertaken while Flosse was President. Fundamental elements upon which the goal of increasing the weight of market capitalism in the territory hinged were left unconsidered. Balancing economic liberalism with interventionism would be no mean feat. If economic liberalism was the goal, what was the point of continuing to spend territorial revenue propping up a commercially unviable agricultural sector?[cclxvii] If protectionism was the goal, why were local agricultural producers still open to competition from imported foodstuffs, including certain supposedly essential items (such as coffee) which were declared exempt from customs duties? The dependence of the Territorial Government on customs duties from imports was problematic in the context of striving for economic liberalisation. If the Territorial Government actually did manage to establish a diversified, more self-reliant local economy, it would be cutting its own fiscal throat. The target of import substitution threatened territorial revenue. In the unlikely event that local food production was revived for example, a corresponding decline in food imports would deprive the territory of funding. The continued funding of social services would be rendered difficult if territorial revenue dropped greatly. The Territorial Government could resort to borrowing more money from the State although this activity would appear out of place in the context of a self-sufficiency drive. Another major issue to confront was how the territory was to bring about a redeployment of the skilled workforce from the public to the private sector. With the implementation of increased territorial self-administration under the Internal Autonomy Statute, the tendency had been not to diminish the number of local bureaucrats but to increase it. There was little incentive for locals to show interest in the uncertainties of private enterprise when an expanding public service still offered better employment opportunities. State planning until 1986 had not managed to master the complicated challenges to increased territorial self-sufficiency. There was little reason to think that a sudden change would be brought about by the Territorial Government if it employed the same reform orientations.
Measures undertaken by the Territorial Government did not address deeper structural issues, but instead involved only minor organisational changes. From 1986 the reorganisation of territorial employment services was undertaken, including the introduction of new employment schemes, and the announcement of an intensification and diversification of professional training services.[cclxviii] When faced with intractable social troubles in unemployment and housing, the Territorial Government passed on its responsibilities to Paris. In response to territorial calls for assistance, from December 1987, the State took charge of family allowances, formerly administered by the territory, budgeted for the annual construction of 250 state houses, and reimbursed the victims of the Papeete riot of October 1987.[cclxix] As a Deputy for French Polynesia, Edouard Fritch had complained to the National Assembly in October 1987 that the Territorial Government had inadequate state funding to meet its target of the construction of 500 houses per year, a goal in itself unable to satisfy the needs of the local population.[cclxx] The Territorial Government was having trouble addressing the situation of the rural population. Fritch in addition pointed out difficulties with the Social Protection Regime for the Rural Milieu. This social welfare scheme, established in February 1979 by the Territorial Assembly, was designed to support rural inhabitants with family benefits, sickness benefits, accident compensation and pensions, and was funded by both the State and the territory. The Territorial Government had been incapable of keeping the fund out of deficit from 1983, due to the rapid increase in the number of beneficiaries. Their total rose from 4,845 in 1982 to 8,234 in 1986. From 1983, the Territorial Government had been constrained to subsidise the fund with its budget surplus and transfers of funds originally allocated to other portfolios. Fritch called for greater state funding, which was given to the territory.[cclxxi] Communal funding was another area of contention, with Fritch calling for increased state participation in the Intercommunal Equalisation Fund.[cclxxii] The 1988 budget for the DOM-TOM failed to meet Fritch's requests in this respect. There was a limit to the extent to which the State was prepared to act for the Territorial Government.
Under cohabitation necessary work continued on the improvement of territorial infrastructure. The extension of electrification to the outer islands was an important aspect of this activity. By 1988, 28 of the 75 inhabited islands in French Polynesia had electric power.[cclxxiii] The establishment of the Papeete campus of the French University of the South Pacific on 29 May 1987 was a high point in infrastructural development the campus would offer French Polynesians unable to afford tertiary education in metropolitan France the means to gain higher qualifications.[cclxxiv] Construction of the university branch began in 1988. Plans for the establishment of a French university in the Pacific TOM dated back to the 1961,[cclxxv] and preparatory discussions on the subject had been in progress under the Fabius Government. Nevertheless the foundation of the university reflected well on the efforts of Flosse.
Although such infrastructural work improved French Polynesia's situation during the period of cohabitation, French and Territorial Government policy expectations concerning economic growth were not met. Instead, the territorial economy declined in 1987, a trend which lasted beyond the end of cohabitation in 1988. Of particular concern was the decline in tourism. Arrivals fell from 161,238 in 1986 to 142,820 in 1987. By 1991 the annual total was down to 120,938. (Table 38) This trend was contrary to the growth in tourism experienced by other South Pacific destinations. From 1987 to 1990, Fiji enjoyed a 47% increase in the number of tourist arrivals. Numbers rose 50% in New Caledonia, and 139% in Vanuatu.[cclxxvi] There was universal agreement that the high cost of living in French Polynesia was a deterrent to travellers. The Papeete riot of October 1987 also deterred clientele, as did the declining values of the US, Australian and New Zealand dollars compared to the French Pacific Franc in the early 1990s.[cclxxvii]
Agricultural reforms appeared handicapped by the inability of French development techniques to effect changes in the Polynesian tribal milieu. Agricultural exports such as copra diminished due to falling prices on the international market.[cclxxviii] The encouragement of cash cropping stood as a major priority for territorial development but, as in Wallis and Futuna, it struck the barrier of traditional Polynesian agricultural techniques. State and territorial agricultural agents have experienced difficulty in convincing Maohi farmers to abandon traditional forms of land tenure and cultivation for modern, commercially viable farms, as was intended under the Eighth Plan.[cclxxix] Maohi farmers were unenthusiastic to see the break-up of family orientated, subsistence polycultural farming by the incursion of large-scale monocultural cash cropping.[cclxxx] This conservatism, combined with the comparatively small areas of agricultural land in French Polynesia (totalling 10.36% of the territory's land surface in 1987),[cclxxxi] and its physical dispersion over distances of thousands of kilometres limited the development of strong commercial agriculture.[cclxxxii]
Unfulfilled expectations of socio-economic change were an important motive for the cabinet revolt led by Alexandre Léontieff in December 1987. In 1988 Léontieff led negotiations with the Rocard Government for a new bout of development arrangements under the Tenth Plan, from 1989 to 1993. The aims of the new state-territorial contract under the Tenth Plan had a distinct ring of familiarity about them when Maurice Porchon, government reporter for the Finance Commission, announced them to the National Assembly on 13 November 1988development of communications and infrastructure, educational reform, social welfare measures for the aged and handicapped, the extension of state-funded housing, in addition to development of fisheries and tourism.[cclxxxiii]
The new State-Territory Contract Plan was signed on 11 January 1989. It differed from those which preceded it only in emphasis, its content having been determined by previous plans. Its first priority was the improvement of territorial training and research facilities. The State was to provide 12,977MF CFP for higher education, of which 6,385MF CFP would be administered by the State, and 6,541MF CFP would be allocated to the territory. These funds would enable the construction of five colleges, two lycées and new university facilities, not mentioned in the quote above. Centres for professional and apprentice training were to be opened, along with five units offering refresher courses which would enable easy entry to these centres.[cclxxxiv]
The second priority was the expansion of territorial agriculture and fisheries. For this area 2,073MF CFP was set aside, including 1,036MF CFP to be administered by the State, and 855MF CFP by the territory. Fisheries would be boosted by the construction of a modern fishing base in the Marquesas, which would service a flotilla of 18 tuna boats. Here, the aim was to allow local fishermen to go beyond lagoon fishing to work on the high seas.[cclxxxv] On land, the project's aim was to create 300 commercial farms, extend the network of fruit and vegetable market gardening, and to encourage commercial logging.[cclxxxvi] The third priority of the Contract Plan was the improvement of the territorial air network and roading.[cclxxxvii]
Somewhere further down the list the Contract Plan addressed ongoing housing problems. The Territorial Office for Public Housing had found itself unable to reduce the spread of substandard housing and the growth in the number of homeless in the late 1980s. The period of the Tenth Plan involved the establishment by the State and territory of a new partly-public company, Fare de France, which was assigned the task of constructing 1,000 houses from 1989 to 1993.[cclxxxviii] By the end of 1991, 360 houses had been built, although the programme was running behind schedule and it was uncertain whether its target would be met on time.[cclxxxix] In 1993 the period of the Tenth Plan was just coming to a conclusion. The goal of constructing 200 houses per year was far from having been attained, with an average of 137 houses completed since 1989. The realisation of the Office's goals was hindered by funding shortfalls during a period of increasing financial problems for the territory.[ccxc]
While state and territorial administrators have overseen the progressive improvement of social welfare measures, the modernisation of territorial infrastructure and services, and have continued providing subsidies and technical support for the recovery of local production in agriculture, fisheries and manufacturing, French Polynesia's economic situation did not radically change from 1981 to 1991. Territorial dependence on metropolitan France persisted in the form of imports and subsidies, as well as administrative and technical services.
In 1981, Mitterrand had called for the dismantling of French Polynesia's "galloping bureaucracy".[ccxci] Eight years later it was still racing on, unimpeded. The number of state and territorial public servants in French Polynesia increased from 13,537 in 1977 to 24,347 by 1989.[ccxcii] This increase reflected the need for additional personnel to oversee development schemes implemented since the announcement of the Eighth Plan, and the increased number of territorial personnel required because of greater territorial administrative autonomy. Administrative costs consumed most of the revenue of the Territorial Government in 1990. That year the territorial budget (excluding state funds) amounted to 76,830MF CFP, of which 59,730MF CFP (77.74%) were allocated to administrative costs.[ccxciii] Seven years after Mitterrand's election, the Territorial Government still fitted his description of it in 1981 as "a perpetual beggar of subsidies"[ccxciv] from the State. The territory resorted to state funding to complement its own revenue. In 1988, the territorial budget amounted to 72,000MF CFP, which was supplemented by 103,750MF CFP contributed by Paris.[ccxcv] French Polynesia's level of bureaucracy and its financial dependence on Paris had not been broken during Mitterrand's first term of office, nor was it to be during the second.
It is unlikely that French Polynesia will break out of its dependence on imported goods and be able to revive local production given territorial reliance on tariffs from imported goods. In 1989, income from such tariffs contributed 43.68% of territorial revenue, the largest single source of direct revenue, well ahead of company tax, which provided 11.1%.[ccxcvi] Although imports dropped from 46.9% of territorial GDP in 1981 to 30.9% in 1989,[ccxcvii] the monetary value of these imports rose in real terms[ccxcviii] as well as in face value. (Table 37) The rising value of imported goods characteristic of the 1980s should continue in the 21st century. In the short term, it is more profitable for the Territorial Government to experience an increase in imports rather than a reduction.[ccxcix]
Public servants in French Polynesia did not dominate the cash economy to the extent that they did in Wallis and Futuna, and the economic influence of civil servants had yet to be overshadowed by those in the primary and secondary sectors. Overall state and territorial administrative spending constituted 59% of territorial GDP in 1980.[ccc] The marginal decline of the primary and secondary employment sectors to the advantage of tertiary employment since 1981, which the Eighth Plan hoped to avoid, has been noted. In French Polynesia administrators remained greater contributors to the cash economy than workers in agriculture, aquaculture or manufacturing. This was an imbalance which the Eighth Plan had hoped to see overturned but which showed no sign of changing by the late 1980s. In 1988, public servants represented 35.58% of the territorial workforce in paid employment among whom state servants represented 11.33%, territorial employees 16.77%, and communal employees 7,47%.[ccci] Those working in administration received 54.4% of salaries paid in French Polynesia in 1989.[cccii] Administrators' salaries constituted 28.24% of territorial GDP that year.[ccciii] Those in agriculture, on the other hand, comprised 8.77% of the territorial workforce, artisanal workers 14.7%, industrial workers 9.46%, and fishermen 2.59%.[ccciv] These occupations fell within the "others" category given, which accounted for 9.8% of salaries paid in 1989.[cccv] The average salary for those in state and territorial administration was much higher than the average payments offered to those in agriculture, fishing, manufacturing and handicrafts. In 1990, average monthly salaries for public servants ranged from 135,148F CFP for the lowest grade to 305,961F CFP for the highest grade.[cccvi] Industrial workers received average monthly salaries ranging from 89,500F CFP to 92,100F CFP.[cccvii] Civilian and military administrative expenditure in French Polynesia dropped during the 1980s, but remained considerable. It averaged around 28% of territorial GDP from 1981 to 1985, and around 25% from 1986 to 1990.[cccviii] Overall, state expenditure fell from 40% of territorial GDP in 1981 to 34% in 1989.[cccix] While this trend amounted to a minor percentile drop of 0.75% per annum, actual spending continued to rise.
The historically declining commercial productivity of the agricultural sector has not abated since 1981. The Eighth Plan's goal of territorial self-sufficiency in food was far from having been realised by the beginning of the 1990s. In 1990, French Polynesia relied on imported foodstuffs to fulfil around 80% of its requirements.[cccx] Under these conditions French Polynesia appeared unlikely to become a significant food exporter to markets in the Pacific basin. In 1989, food products accounted for 3.17% of the total value of French Polynesian exports.[cccxi] Major inroads had yet to be made by meat and vegetable exports on the Japanese and New Zealand markets, as the Eighth Plan had optimistically projected.[cccxii] In the early 1990s, Japan was more important as a market for French Polynesian pearls than for foodstuffs.[cccxiii] Japan retained a protectionist stance towards its agriculture into the 1990s, presenting various trade barriers to countries wishing to export foodstuffs there. Export marketing to New Zealand was still embryonic. The first French Polynesian trade delegation arrived in New Zealand only in November 1991, to promote beer, vanilla, pearls and fruits.[cccxiv] Inauspiciously the delegation's 100kg selection of fruit was unable to be displayed: it had been confiscated by New Zealand Ministry of Agriculture and Fisheries inspectors for not having been fumigated to their satisfaction.[cccxv] The incapacity to meet Australian and New Zealand phyto-sanitary regulations has been a major barrier, not only to French Polynesian producers, but also to New Caledonian producers.[cccxvi]
Government technical and financial assistance for French Polynesian agriculture has not encouraged the productive successes hoped for. Copra production in the 1980s did not come close to exceeding tonnage produced in the 1970s. Total territorial production exported from 1969 to 1979 came to 115,178t, while in the decade that followed the export total was 80,968t.[cccxvii] Owing to international market fluctuations, and to damage caused by cyclones in 1983, annual exported copra production declined from 11,815t in 1980 to a low of 3,010t in 1984, climbed to 9,278t in 1988, plummeted once more to 5,817t in 1988, and climbed to 10,090t by 1991.[cccxviii] Unsteady prices on the international market have been offset by territorial subsidies for producers and price guarantees unchanged since 1986. Copra exports were hindered by problems such as ageing processing equipment and poor quality control, resulting in inferior product compared to other major producers such as Malaysia, Sri Lanka and Papua New Guinea.[cccxix] Without subsidies, copra exports from French Polynesia would surely have collapsed.
Fresh fruit production in French Polynesia mainly climbed throughout the 1980s, although most of this output served local needs rather than being exported. In 1986 7,254t of fruit were produced for sale, of which only 18t were exported.[cccxx] In 1989, commercial fruit production amounted to 8,970t, of which 189t were exported.[cccxxi] Attempts at exporting fruit juice to mainland France were abandoned in 1991 due to high shipping costs, lack of market image and higher production costs than competing products on the metropolitan market.[cccxxii]
The revival of vanilla production did not live up to expectations. The ambitious cultivation programme which began in 1983 resulted in production over the following seven years of just 21.8t of the 150t of prepared vanilla targeted by 1990.[cccxxiii] Vanilla exports were far from reaching the triple figure tonnages exported annually in the early 1960s. In 1980 2t were exported, rising to 5t in 1983 when international prices rose, although exports had fallen slightly to 4t by 1989. The reason for the lack of commercial success was that EC and territorial funding did not meet planned levels, and international prices for vanilla fell in the late 1980s. State and territorial officials have responded by formulating a follow-up programme which was projected to last until the late 1990s.[cccxxiv]
Coffee, a commodity which had not been exported in any great quantity since the 1960s, likewise failed to fulfil the expectations placed on it by state and territorial development officials. Its decline found a close parallel in the decline of coffee exports from New Caledonia. An exporter in the early 1960s, French Polynesia imported coffee in bulk during the 1980s. In 1990, coffee imports amounted to 373t.[cccxxv] Under the Tenth Plan, it was intended to have raised annual territorial production to the modest level of 15t of coffee by 1993.[cccxxvi] All of this coffee was intended for the local market. By 1991, local production had reached 13t.[cccxxvii] Coffee producers have many years of work ahead before they might regain their former status of minor suppliers to the international market.
Aquaculture expanded to a greater degree than agriculture in the 1980s. Export levels and profits in the pearl industry rose rapidly during the 1980s. Exports climbed from 86.53kg in 1981 to 833.46kg in 1991.[cccxxviii] In the early 1990s pearl farming was the cornerstone for the economic activities of around thirty islands in French Polynesia, employing around 2,000 people.[cccxxix] Pearls were the single largest export earner for the territory: in 1991, they accounted for around 33.7% by value of French Polynesian exports. (Table 37) Their value rose from 997.83MF CFP in 1986 to 4,424.32MF CFP in 1991.[cccxxx] The pearl industry stood as an untypical local commercial success story which owed a great deal to the perseverance and marketing skills of a small number of local entrepreneurs, and to the local abundance of sheltered lagoons with suitable micro-climates.
Pearls were the only product from French Polynesia's maritime zone to enjoy such commercial success. Slow progress has been made in expanding the territorial fishing industry beyond artisanal level, particularly with the deep sea fishing fleet being created under the Tenth Plan. The first two vessels of this fleet were in service in 1991, but deep sea fishing by local vessels had yet to be developed to the point where it would be more profitable to the territory than revenue from fishing accords with Japan and Korea. Deep sea fishing, as elsewhere in the Pacific TOM, is still mainly the domain of foreign vessels because of the lack of suitable local vessels, a convenient market, storage facilities, and qualified labour.[cccxxxi] Artisanal fishing in lagoons and in coastal zones was still important by 1991, with around 80% of fishing licenses authorised by the territory going to small fishing operations.[cccxxxii]
After pearl farming, tourism has been the other area of major economic growth during the 1980s, although it has not met the expectations placed upon it in Paris and Papeete either. By the early 1990s the level of tourist-related activity in the territory had still not exceeded the Sixth Plan's projection for 1975 of 7,000 hotel rooms for the territory, to be used by 240,000 tourists, who would enable the employment of 7,000 locals in tourism.[cccxxxiii] Nor had it come close to Flosse's projection in April 1986 that by 1990 there would be 200,000 annual tourist arrivals, enabling the employment of 8,000 people in tourism.[cccxxxiv] With tourist arrivals in French Polynesia totalling 120,938 in 1991, (Table 38) a territorial hotel capacity of 2,824 rooms, and with 5,200 people employed in tourism, a large gap between official expectation and reality becomes evident.[cccxxxv] The highest annual number of visitors to the territory was 161,238, achieved in 1986. (Table 38) Tourism constituted less than 5% of territorial GDP in 1991, but was nevertheless considered the most important productive sector of French Polynesia's economy.[cccxxxvi] In spite of experiencing considerable albeit intermittent growth in the number of tourist arrivals during the 1980s, tourism is still vulnerable to international market trends. There was a substantial drop in the number of North American, European and Japanese tourists in 1990 and 1991 which impacted negatively on French Polynesian tourism. Potential visitors from these countries decided to avoid overseas holidays at the time of the Gulf War for fear of being subjected to terrorist attacks.[cccxxxvii] The total number of visitors to the islands dropped from 132,361 in 1990 to 120,938 in 1991. Both of these totals were lower than the 1989 total of 139,705 visitors. (Table 38) Another source of vulnerability in the 1990s, as in the 1980s, was the periodic trade union actions and rioting which from time to time occurred in Papeete, the most notable example in the 1990s being that of the Papeete riot of 6-7 September 1995. Foreigners contemplating a holiday in French Polynesia were not enticed by reports in the international media[cccxxxviii] of the arson of Fa'aa airport and a riot on the runway as passengers for an Air New Zealand Boeing 767 were awaiting take-off, nor by news of the arson of the Royal Papeete Hotel, forcing the evacuation of guests. In the week following these events, 26,000 reservations which had been made by people intending to visit Tahiti were cancelled.[cccxxxix] By October 1995, the number of tourist arrivals had dropped by 25% in comparison with the total in October 1994, prompting the French Government to contribute 3.3MF to a campaign promoting tourism.[cccxl] By November 1995, airline flights between Tokyo and Fa'aa airport, which had previously operated at around 70% passenger capacity, were still down to 11% capacity.[cccxli] While the streets of Papeete have since calmed, the tourist industry was left with the task of rebuilding French Polynesia's reputation as an idyllic holiday spot, in addition to overcoming disadvantages compared to other South Pacific destinations because of its high prices.
Since the 1960s the territory had promoted the expansion of hotel accommodation in order to increase tourist revenue. From the late 1980s, some of the large developments planned encountered local opposition. A 250-room Sheraton hotel with a golf course was proposed for Moorea in 1988 by Japanese investors. This project encountered opposition from citizens' groups on the islands. In June 1991, Moorea residents blocked the proposal by voting against it in a local referendum.[cccxlii] A self-contained 2,000-room tourist village planned for Bora Bora, with 2,000 rooms, was also delayed by locals who objected to its presence.[cccxliii] Local objections to tourist projects were not as entrenched as in Wallis and Futuna, where custom authority has been able to openly veto resort proposals, but such residential opposition has slowed investment in what the territory and the State saw as a crucial sector for the islands' economic growth. As in the late 1970s, tourism held great income potential for French Polynesia, although investment in the territory in the 1990s had not met the expectations of two decades earlier.
Government economic development efforts on the outer islands had failed to bring a major turn-around in their economic decline by the early 1990s. Private investment in pearl farming has, as has been noted, provided employment opportunities on many islands. These are happy exceptions. While state and territorial development agencies have provided millions of French Pacific Francs in development funding, they have not brought about the economic rebirth of the island economies in question. The Leeward Islands remained economically advantaged due to their better infrastructure, larger and more highly skilled workforce, and because of Tahiti's role as the territorial administrative centre. Most of the hotels in the territory were located in the Leeward Islands, mainly on Tahiti, Moorea, Huahine and Bora Bora.[cccxliv] Widespread return migration from Tahiti to the outer islands has not occurred, in spite of funding to encourage this. The percentage of the territorial population living in the Windward Islands rose marginally during the 1980s, from 73.8% of the territorial population in 1983 to 74.3% of the population in 1988. (Table 40) The Leeward Islands' proportion of territorial population increased from 11.4% in 1983 to 11.8% five years later. While the percentile figure for the Marquesas remained around 3.9%, the figures for the other outer islands declined slightly over the same period. That of the Austral Islands declined from 3.8% to 3.4%, and the Tuamotu-Gambiers fell from 7.1% to 6.6%. In the 1980s demographic centralisation in French Polynesia had reached its plateau.
French Polynesia's population remained handicapped by its low educational attainment levels. Attempts to improve the education of indigenous inhabitants during the 1980s, through the opening of new schools, training institutes and the university, brought about reductions in the low success rate of full Polynesians and Asians compared to Europeans in the education system. In 1983, 19.5% of Polynesians aged 10 years and over had reached secondary level education, compared to 53.0% of Europeans and 39.0% of Asians.[cccxlv] For the same age group, that year 0.5% of Polynesians had reached higher education, compared to 17.5% of Europeans and 4.0% of Asians.[cccxlvi] The Polynesian participation rate in secondary education had rapidly improved by the late 1980s, although they were still behind those of Europeans and Asians in French Polynesia. In 1988 40.7% of Polynesians aged 10 years and over had received secondary education. At tertiary level, the participation rate of Polynesians had dropped slightly to 0.4%.[cccxlvii] By way of comparison, 67.2% of local Europeans aged 10 years and over had received secondary level education, and 20.7% had experienced tertiary level education, although this last figure was high because of the presence of metropolitan French CEP technicians, military personnel and administrators.[cccxlviii] Of the territory's Asians aged 10 years and over, 52.3% had received secondary education, and 6.9% had reached tertiary level education, suggesting that Polynesians were not the only group which was educationally disadvantaged.[cccxlix] Progress in achieving the Eighth Plan's goal of improving the educations of DOM-TOM inhabitants was noticeable but disparities between ethnic groups persisted.[cccl]
While Polynesian participation in higher education was not as high as that of other ethnic groups in French Polynesia, Polynesian culture made inroads in state and territorial curricula. From 1990, the Papeete branch of the French University of the South Pacific offered a bachelor's level degree in Te reo Maohi. In Paris, it has been possible to study for a bachelor's level degree in Tahitian since 1992.[cccli] In the mid-1990s it was still too early to speculate on the success of these courses. There existed a shortage both in qualified teachers and in qualified students for them.[ccclii] It can be said that these courses offered a recognition of Polynesian culture in the state higher education system which has been slower in arriving than that accorded to Basque, Breton, Occitan or Corsican language.
Although slightly reduced, the socio-economic issues which confronted French Polynesia in 1981 were largely unchanged ten years later. Low territorial self-sufficiency, lack of productive diversity in agriculture and light industry, an external trade balance tilted heavily towards a high level of French imports, and the failure to produce an export-led economic recovery, were all elements considered to be developmental problems in Papeete and Paris which had been resolved neither by the State, nor by the Territorial Government. Nor were these obstacles likely to be eliminated when there existed no political will either in Papeete or in Paris to curb expenditure on an ever-expanding bureaucracy, to diminish territorial reliance on import tariffs and trade barriers so that the cost of living might be lowered and local investment might be encouraged, to lower the attractiveness of 'unproductive' administrative posts by cutting salaries and benefits to public servants, or to solve the conundrum of whether local commercial agriculture was to be fully protected or left to fade away. From the late 1980s French Polynesia was to find its situation complicated by further difficulties, stemming from the increasing instability and profligate spending of its Territorial Government, as well as from Paris's decision in April 1992 to suspend nuclear testing, the cornerstone of local economic activity.
Crises in the 1990s
Mitterrand's second term of office as President coincided with a trying period for French Polynesia. At the very time when political, social and economic tensions diminished in New Caledonia under the Matignon Accords, the situation in French Polynesia appeared to be worsening. Regardless of the outcome of demands from Papeete for greater self-administration through the legislation and implementation of the Internal Autonomy Statute, political problems persisted.
Into the 1990s French Polynesian internal administration continued to be hampered by the instability of the territorial political class. Infighting among the personalities at the head of major local political formations resulted in serious disruptions for Territorial Governments. Mismanagement and allegations of corruption at the highest level brought widespread discredit to the leaders of the main political groups, as well as affecting the administration of the territory. On top of this, the suspension of the CEP's nuclear programme in April 1992 brought about a decline in territorial revenue from the main contributor to the local economy, leaving territorial leaders with serious doubts about the financial viability of French Polynesia in the twenty-first century.
This concluding section examines the series of political crises the territory faced from late 1988 to early 1996, and assesses the effects they have had on local political life. That the Internal Autonomy Statute had not permitted greater local administrative stability was not necessarily because this legislation was faulty. Rather, the troubles confronting French Polynesia were the reflection of inherent drawbacks in the outlooks of leaders in Paris and Papeete. Having obtained internal autonomy, territorial leaders have shown precious little maturity or responsibility in exercising it. Excessive spending on faulty development plans that have left the territory burdened by rising debt has not offered the road to greater self-reliance. Nor does the countermeasure adopted to resolve this impasse - the solicitation of more funds from the State - seem likely to remedy the situation. For its part, Paris has not greatly helped to discourage territorial mismanagement. Both before and since the attainment of French Polynesian internal autonomy, Paris has been inept in curtailing what Mitterrand referred to in 1981 as galloping bureaucracy in the territory. The installation of the CEP contributed to the collapse of local agriculture and encouraged the growth of a service economy. The granting of internal autonomy had the effect of contributing to the expansion of bureaucracy at territorial level rather than of reducing it. Plans to wean French Polynesia from its dependence on metropolitan French funds, whether in the form of finance accrued from the presence of the CEP, or of imported metropolitan French consumer goods, were of marginal success while the nuclear test programme remained in place, and territorial revenue depended largely on import tariffs.
The incapacity of governments in Paris and in Papeete to live up to their pronouncements on the desirability of territorial self-sufficiency stemmed from the political dispositions accompanying territorial social and economic dependence on metropolitan France. Paris was not prepared, or indeed able, to effect a reduction of territorial reliance on metropolitan French funds so long as national defence policy required the presence of the CEP in French Polynesia. Papeete, on the other hand, was not prepared to inflict on itself the austerity measures necessary as a prelude to any real drive towards economic independence when it could have recourse to funding from a French State desirous of maintaining local socio-economic stability so that the CEP could function smoothly.
Various attempts by Territorial Governments to stimulate the local economy have, like those initiated in Paris, not managed to stimulate major advances towards a self-sufficient territorial economy. Hopes in December 1987 that the technocratic abilities of Alexandre Léontieff would produce a turn-around in the French Polynesian socio-economic situation through initiatives at territorial level turned out to be misplaced. The resolution by Léontieff of territorial demands through the negotiation of the statute amendments of July 1990 was the high point of a reform programme which produced few new positive developments. Léontieff's ambitious territorial renewal plan, issued in November 1987, calling for the reduction of French Polynesian economic dependence, the promotion of tourism, the decentralisation of the economy, the resolution of unemployment and the housing shortage,[cccliii] was not realised during his period in government. The plan ended up contributing to the discredit of the Léontieff Government by driving the territory further into debt. The funding necessary to achieve Léontieff's policy goals was sought, as invariably, from Paris. His administration determined the need for approximately 517MFF in funding to fund the recovery plan.[cccliv] The paradoxical orientation of seeking to promote territorial self-reliance by soliciting additional finance from the State was a major symptom of the assistance mentality of French Polynesian leaders. From 1987 to 1991, Léontieff followed a well-trodden policy path, funding his renewal plan through external borrowing.
The expectation in Papeete that moves towards self-reliance could be facilitated with financial assistance from Paris were not fulfilled. Rather than reducing territorial dependence, Léontieff overborrowed and overspent while trying to implement his ambitious reforms. Territorial borrowing rose from 3,900MF CFP in 1986 to 6,875MF CFP by 1990, of which 3,417MF CFP represented the amount outstanding on interest payments for past loans.[ccclv] By 1990, the Léontieff Government faced an accumulated debt of 47,198MF CFP,[ccclvi] a figure equivalent to 81.65% of territorial revenue that year.[ccclvii] In 1991, an independent audit of territorial finances, covering the three years and four months of Léontieff's term as President, concluded that his administration had incurred a deficit of around 7,000MF CFP for 1991.[ccclviii] In addition the report claimed that his administration had overspent on an excessively large bureaucracy that should have been reduced, and had indulged in questionable accounting practices.[ccclix] Under Léontieff moreover, the territory was spendthrift with public funds. For example, approximately 600MF CFP were spent on celebrations for the centenary of the commune of Papeete, which were attended by Mitterrand in May 1990.[ccclx] Léontieff's incapacity to live up to his goals did much to undermine his reputation as an efficient technocrat.
Léontieff experienced difficulties in retaining confidence in his leadership well before it was possible to assess the financial ill-effects of his administration. A statutory crisis eventuated in 1989 as an indirect result of the defection of a member of the Léontieff Government, Enrique Braun-Ortega.[ccclxi] On 22 June 1988, Braun-Ortega resigned as Economy and Finance Minister. He had already distanced himself from Léontieff by campaigning unsuccessfully against him for the seat of East Polynesia earlier in the same month.[ccclxii] At the time of his resignation, Braun-Ortega cited his reasons as being "personal"[ccclxiii] but it became apparent in later months that he was motivated by disillusionment with Léontieff's reform plan, which he described as ill-conceived and vague.[ccclxiv]
In November 1988, Léontieff found himself faced with majority opposition to his territorial budget for 1989 after Braun-Ortega formed a six-member dissident faction called Ho tu Nui (the Centre Group) from Léontieff's majority in the Territorial Assembly.[ccclxv] Antagonism towards Flosse shown by Braun-Ortega faded rapidly when Ho tu Nui allied itself with Tahoeraa Huiraatira in voting against the budget. The flexible approach that territorial leaders adopted to forming alliances was as vigorous and as irresponsible as ever. That Braun-Ortega might ally himself with Tahoeraa Huiraatira would have been unthinkable in 1987. After helping Léontieff to topple Tahoeraa Huiraatira from government in December 1987, by June 1988 Braun-Ortega had joined ranks with his old enemies. In a constitutionally dubious move on 17 November, three of Léontieff's Ministers, Kelly, Hong-Kieu and Spitz, resigned to take up places in the Territorial Assembly, displacing proxies who had become hostile to the Government. Reinforced by the return of these three government representatives to the Territorial Assembly, Léontieff was able to push the budget through with majority support. Their task having been completed, the three former Ministers were then reappointed to the Government by Léontieff on 26 November.[ccclxvi]
This tactical ploy led Braun-Ortega to lay a complaint before the Administrative Tribunal. On 21 March 1989 the body declared that the Léontieff Government was illegal. It annulled the appointments of five Ministers, including the three who had performed the shuffle in November 1988. The other two affected by the decision were Louis Savoie, who had replaced Braun-Ortega as Minister of Economy and Finance, and François Nanai, who had become Minister for Transport, Urbanisation and Administration as a result of the portfolio reshuffle.[ccclxvii] Léontieff had neglected to follow the procedure laid down in article 8 of the Internal Autonomy Statute, which required ministerial appointments to be ratified by a majority vote in the Territorial Assembly.[ccclxviii]
For the rest of March, French Polynesia was without a Government, as the five remaining members were not adequate under article 5 of the Internal Autonomy Statute to form a quorate cabinet.[ccclxix] By 3 April, Léontieff had finalised another cabinet team which gained the approval of the Territorial Assembly.[ccclxx]
Just before the appointment of a new Government in April, the Territorial President appealed to the Council of State in Paris to overturn the decision to annul the previous administration. The Council and Jean Montpezat, the High Commissioner at the time, were not prepared to challenge what was a territorial matter.[ccclxxi] The Council of State did however despatch a review team to investigate complaints made by Léontieff.[ccclxxii] This investigation presaged a modification to the statute. Among the modifications to the Internal Autonomy Statute applied in July 1990, was article 101 bis, which permitted the Territorial President and the Territorial Assembly President to demand directly the judgement of the Administrative Tribunal, whereas previously they had had to appeal its decisions through the Council of State.[ccclxxiii]
The whole incident was of considerable inconvenience to Alexandre Léontieff. In the long term, Braun-Ortega's action against the Léontieff Government was more of nuisance value than constituting a serious challenge to his presidency. The action did however demonstrate the extent to which the Léontieff Government was prepared to stretch the rules to hold the opposition in check. It likewise demonstrated that the united opposition which Léontieff had managed to mobilise against Tahoeraa Huiraatira was fraying around the edges. On 14 February 1990, Vernaudon was excluded from the Léontieff Government for having negotiated with Flosse over a possible electoral coalition after the territorial elections scheduled for 1991.[ccclxxiv] The dismissal reduced Léontieff's majority in the Territorial Assembly to 21 out of 41 seats, a narrow margin which Flosse was to attempt to overturn with the assistance of Vernaudon.
That Léontieff's suspicions concerning Vernaudon were well-founded was confirmed three months later. On 9 April, Flosse and Vernaudon attempted to overturn the Léontieff Government with a no-confidence motion, majority support for which would have forced the Government's resignation. Their motion failed, with only fourteen Territorial Councillors lending their support.[ccclxxv] That day, debate in the Territorial Assembly became rowdy. The session was suspended after Flosse and Vernaudon flooded the debating chamber with their supporters.[ccclxxvi] Mitterrand himself later intervened to calm differences between Léontieff and Vernaudon. After a meeting between the three at the Elysée on 31 May 1990, Vernaudon announced that a reconciliation had occurred.[ccclxxvii] If so, it was not to last long. Vernaudon found himself unable to accept Léontieff's conditions for his return to government, and days later announced that his political divorce with Léontieff was final.[ccclxxviii]
Adroit negotiations by Flosse at the time of the territorial elections of 17 March 1991 (Table 41) permitted his triumphant return, leading a new Territorial Government. Since the end of the Chirac Government in April 1988, Flosse had held no parliamentary post, either at national or at territorial level. His sole elected position was that of Mayor of Pirae. But his time had not been wasted. While he was on the sideline of territorial politics, his leadership of Tahoeraa Huiraatira faced no serious internal challenges, and he organised the party for a return to power. By early 1991 the other major local parties, from Léontieff's Te Tiarama to the Maohi nationalist Ia Mana, were subject to public disillusionment over their failure to implement the fundamental socio-economic change that had been presented by them as indispensable.
The territorial elections of March 1991 produced no absolute majority for any one party, forcing the various major parties into the usual uneasy alliances. (Table 41) These alliances were however more extensive than those in past elections. For the first time in a territorial ballot, no independent candidates were elected. This outcome presented a major break with past elections, when there had always been isolated figures elected to the Territorial Assembly on the basis of local followings.[ccclxxix] Tahoeraa Huiraatira, with 18 seats, and despite its loss of four seats since 1986, was in a commanding position over Léontieff and Juventin, whose Union Polynésienne list gained 14 seats.[ccclxxx] To form a governing majority, Flosse had to rely on an alliance with Vernaudon's Ai'a Api, which had received five seats.[ccclxxxi] Ia Mana was snubbed by its supporters for its participation in the Léontieff Government, which was perceived by many as marking an abandonment of its nationalist goals.[ccclxxxii] It failed to regain any of its three seats. The Maohi nationalist party Tavini Huiraatira (Serving the People),[ccclxxxiii] benefited from disaffection with Ia Mana by winning over its supporters, thereby gaining four seats. These gains represented a doubling of Tavini Huiraatira's Territorial Councillors in comparison with its 1986 result. The party received 11.3% of votes cast in the elections of 1991, and more than 5% in each of the two local constituencies, an unprecedented level of support.[ccclxxxiv]
The alignments of some parties in the elections differed radically from those they had held ten years before, while others had not changed. Flosse remained Chirac's man in Papeete. His election to the territorial presidency was hailed by Chirac as a victory both for Flosse and, by implication, for the RPR.[ccclxxxv] News of Léontieff's defeat, on the other hand, was received with disappointment by Le Pensec in Paris, who cast doubts on the future political stability of the territory.[ccclxxxvi] The Rocard Government would have preferred the re-election of Léontieff to the appointment of Flosse. In this respect things had changed drastically since 1981, when Léontieff had been in the Gaullist camp, an irony noted by Drollet of Ia Mana, who had backed the PS in 1981.[ccclxxxvii] Here Ai'a and Ai'a Api, the two 'autonomist' parties (as much as the term meant anything since Flosse's negotiation of the Internal Autonomy Statute) had gone their separate ways after uniting behind Léontieff in December 1987. Here Ai'a, through its alignment with Léontieff, enjoyed the sympathy of the Rocard Government, in marked contrast with the backing of the party for the UDF in 1981. After the territorial elections, Ai'a Api formed a coalition government with Tahoeraa Huiraatira, once more placing pragmatism ahead of any asserted ideological principles.
The Left/Right divide which governs analysis of French parliamentary politics has not had great validity in the French Polynesian context since 1981. Apart from Flosse's ties with the RPR, in Papeete links with metropolitan French parties have tended to be transitory and motivated by short-term pragmatism. Fickle ties shown by territorial leaders were to contribute significantly to the chaotic local political situation that developed following the territorial elections of 1991.
On 21 March 1991, Flosse and Vernaudon formed a coalition government.[ccclxxxviii] Its installation was to be delayed by discontent in the Opposition. On 30 March 1991 Alexandre Léontieff, Juventin and Oscar Temaru[ccclxxxix] announced a joint boycott by their parties of the Territorial Assembly session to protest against a coalition which they claimed did not deserve to be in power. The fact that Flosse and Vernaudon possessed a democratically elected majority was considered less important than the disruptive expression of opposition dissent. Lack of a quorum in the Territorial Assembly forced its closure until 4 April, when the Opposition relented somewhat, allowing Flosse to be appointed Territorial President, and Vernaudon to assume his functions as the Territorial Assembly President.[cccxc]
Resistance to Flosse, led by Juventin and Temaru, as well as by local unionists, intensified in June and July of 1991. On 21 June, the motorway from Papeete to Fa'aa international airport was cut by roadblocks. The barricades were the effort of two groups. Tavini Huiraatira militants responded to a call by Temaru to protest at the introduction of the French lottery and increased taxes on consumer items.[cccxci] The lottery was portrayed as an unwanted vice which would cause poor Polynesians to squander their meagre incomes, while the taxes on consumer items were opposed because they would likewise affect the incomes of the disadvantaged. In addition, members of the local drivers' union mobilised to demonstrate against the introduction of higher petrol taxes by Flosse. These people received the assistance of Juventin. He fomented discontent by setting up a "struggle committee" to assist the protesters.[cccxcii]
Flosse's contested taxes, forming an austerity package designed to gain enough revenue to repay around 40% of the 1991 territorial deficit, raised taxation on non-essential foodstuffs, beer, tobacco, fuel and electricity. The roadblocks were dismantled after Flosse conceded the lifting of the petrol tax five days later.[cccxciii] This measure did not resolve the dispute. The "struggle committee" maintained its opposition to the rest of the reforms, calling for Flosse to introduce an income tax for high salary earners, rather than introducing taxes which would hit those on lower incomes as well.[cccxciv]
After it became apparent that Flosse had no intention of doing this, more forceful rejection of his policies was expressed by the "struggle committee". On 9 July the two major territorial unions, the USATP and A Tia I Mua[cccxcv] called for a general strike which was answered by dockers in Papeete, and at the CEP facilities on Moruroa and Hao Atolls.[cccxcvi] Further roadblocks were set up on 10 July, across the highway to Fa'aa, and blocking the road to the wharf at Papeete. Whereas previously High Commissioner Montpezat had not intervened, perhaps believing that Flosse could sort the problem out, this time protest action concerned the CEP and the port of Papeete. This turn in events directly affected defence and external communications, areas of state competence under the Internal Autonomy Statute. Montpezat sent in gendarmes to clear roadblocks set up with Papeete municipal vehicles by some of Juventin's employees.[cccxcvii] While dispersing approximately 500 to 1,000 people manning the roadblocks, and lifting vehicles out of the way with a crane, 37 gendarmes were injured.[cccxcviii] On 11 July, Montpezat managed to negotiate a settlement between the Territorial Government and the protesters. Fulfilling his part of the agreement, Flosse lifted the new taxes, while for their part, the protesters called off their actions.[cccxcix]
The incident was assumed to have shaken Flosse's resolve, for on 12 July he announced he was stepping down from the presidency.[cd] He went into retreat, eventually returning to work on 19 July. By this time, the Cresson Government had calmed tempers by offering state subsidies to cover the part of the territorial deficit which Flosse had hoped to repay with the higher taxes.[cdi] Paris did not wish to see confrontation turn into a repeat of the riot of October 1987. Flosse expressed bitterness over the protest actions, accusing Temaru, Léontieff and Juventin of attempting to destabilise his administration.[cdii] In the light of events he had some cause for doing so.
The incidents of June and July 1991 did not mark the end of trouble experienced by Flosse with unionists. From 2 December 1991 to 7 February 1992, the territorial economy was crippled by a seamen's strike, organised by those working on interisland shipping in French Polynesia. The strike was reportedly the longest in French Polynesian history.[cdiii] It culminated in a blockade of the port of Papeete for four days from 3 February, when the striking seamen anchored and chained together about a dozen ships in the harbour, blocking access.[cdiv] The seamen called the action off after local shipping companies met most of the demands of the strikers, including higher pay, and a guarantee to cancel legal proceedings against them.[cdv] As in the case of the dockers' strike of 1987, the seamen's strike affected a vulnerable part of the territorial economy, its trade.
From late 1991 to early 1992, the seamen's strike was not the only major confrontation that Flosse faced. His alliance with Vernaudon, which had been intended to last for five years, lasted just 159 days.[cdvi] In September 1991, Flosse announced he would be increasing the size of the government majority by signing a pact with Here Ai'a. Acting in what he portrayed as the interests of increasing political harmony, Flosse dismissed two Ai'a Api cabinet members, replacing them with appointees from Here Ai'a. This broke the clause in the coalition agreement with Ai'a Api which guaranteed it a fixed number of Ministers. Vernaudon responded by announcing that his party was joining the Opposition.[cdvii]
Vernaudon declared his intention of keeping his post as President of the Territorial Assembly, which he had held since the territorial elections of 1991. He used his position to paralyse the Flosse Government. Vernaudon refused to convoke the Territorial Assembly so that the territorial budget for 1992 might be adopted, a situation which lasted until April 1992. Under the Internal Autonomy Statute the High Commissioner was the sole person who could convoke the Territorial Assembly other than its President, although Montpezat refused to become embroiled in the affair, leaving certain commentators to speculate that he was passively assisting the opponents of Flosse.[cdviii] The deadlock was broken by Montpezat's replacement as High Commissioner, Michel Jau. On 3 April 1992, after much toing and froing with the Administrative Tribunal over statutory considerations, an assembly majority of 25 Territorial Councillors convened outside the Territorial Assembly building to elect Juventin as the new Territorial Assembly President. Jau upheld the election, which insensed Vernaudon to the point that on 4 April he and his followers occupied the Territorial Assembly building and barricaded themselves in.[cdix]
When the territorial budget was finally about to be adopted in July 1992, Jau exercised his prerogative as High Commissioner under article 77 of the Internal Autonomy Statute and seized control of the budget.[cdx] He then proceeded to cut around 1,000MF CFP from it, holding that the Flosse Government had overestimated likely territorial revenue in forthcoming months.[cdxi] Flosse had refused to reduce projected expenditure, declaring that such a cut would impinge on essential services.
As if this catalogue of woes was not bad enough, the Flosse Government was adversely affected by Prime Minister Bérégovoy's announcement in Paris on 8 April 1992 of a suspension of nuclear testing in French Polynesia.[cdxii] The suspension represented Mitterrand's response to the declining chances of a global thermo-nuclear conflict following the end of the Cold War in 1989, and the collapse of the Soviet Union in December 1991. The Russians had announced a suspension of their nuclear testing in October 1990, which President Yeltsin had renewed twelve months later. France had already reduced its annual number of tests in French Polynesia, partly due to budgetary considerations, and partly due to declining superpower tensions apparent from the late 1980s. During his visit to French Polynesia in August 1989, Rocard had announced that the annual number of nuclear tests conducted would be reduced from eight to six, effective as of 1990.[cdxiii] In spite of this announcement, CEP and related military expenditure in French Polynesia in the early 1990s maintained the steep climb it had experienced in the preceding decade. It rose from 16,790MF CFP in 1981, to 35,710MF CFP in 1989, 40,140MF CFP in 1990, and 42,010MF CFP in 1991. (Table 43)
In August 1989 Rocard denied that the reduction in testing called into question the future of the CEP, and by implication that of French Polynesia. His announcement nevertheless prompted experts in Papeete to take stock of the consequences of a closure of the nuclear programme. ITSTAT estimated in 1989 that in the event of the withdrawal of the CEP, without state compensation territorial GDP would decrease by 23%, and 17% of the paid workforce would become unemployed.[cdxiv] By August 1994, the number of workers on Moruroa had been cut by approximately 50% (around 1,000 people), and 250 Polynesians had been made redundant.[cdxv] Even prior to the announcement of the test suspension in April 1992, territorial leaders had been thinking about the possibility that Paris might eventually phase out the CEP in response to changes in the global strategic balance, and to the necessities of tightening budgetary constraints on defence expenditure. Alexandre Léontieff expressed his hope that as declining testing operations resulted in reduced income for the Territorial Government, the State would feel obliged to compensate French Polynesia.[cdxvi] By November 1991, as a Deputy for French Polynesia, Léontieff was stating publicly that in order to prepare the territory for any withdrawal of the CEP, Paris should negotiate a French Polynesian equivalent of the Matignon Accords, complete with development and administrative arrangements designed to lead the territory to a more self-reliant existence.[cdxvii] This concept was reiterated by Temaru, Vernaudon and Boris Léontieff on 9 April 1992, immediately after the announcement of the test suspension. They issued a joint statement to the effect that Paris should allow the "emancipation" of the territory by dissolving the Territorial Government and calling new elections, to be followed by the negotiation of a common platform on territorial economic and financial institutions.[cdxviii] Alexandre Léontieff responded by declaring himself resolutely opposed to French Polynesian independence, observing that the islands were not self-sufficient enough to be viably independent.[cdxix]
There was little chance anyway that Flosse would allow himself to be turned out of office, and still less that he would push for independence. On 23 April Flosse left Papeete for Paris to attend the first of a series of meetings with the Bérégovoy Government on the matter of compensatory state funding for the Territorial Government.[cdxx] Some economic effects of the test suspension were noticeable as early as the first few months after its announcement in 1992. By June, the CEP had laid off around 100 civilian employees.[cdxxi] The IEOM noted in September, that from May to August 1992 territorial revenue had declined 5,300MF CFP compared to revenue received between May and August 1991. The reason for this trend was a drop in imports and, consequently, in customs revenue.[cdxxii] Overall, the IEOM attributed the economic downturn to the testing suspension. In July 1992, it was estimated, not disinterestedly, by Patrick Peaucellier, Flosse's Finance Minister, that the territory that year would be deprived of 2,400MF CFP in revenue it would have received from the military had the suspension not occurred. The Bérégovoy Government did not agree with this figure, offering instead 2,000MF CFP in short-term compensation through a loan to be repaid by December 1992.[cdxxiii]
On 14 May 1992, a territorial delegation led by Flosse signed a state-territorial protocol in Paris with representatives of the Bérégovoy Government. The protocol established a development plan called the Pact for Progress. The Pact fulfilled Léontieff's concept of a French Polynesian equivalent to the Matignon Accords, but was limited to socio-economic proposals and did not include any reference to a self-determination referendum. Territorial independence was not an issue, in spite of comments advocating self-determination from the Maohi nationalist minority. Le Pensec heralded the agreement as "a real pact for economic, social and cultural progress".[cdxxiv] The Territorial Government undertook to reform local taxation to permit a redistribution of wealth and to promote greater social equality, while the State gave its backing to the funding of the main reforms deemed important by the territory. Under the Pact for Progress, Flosse supervised the organisation of a series of workshops in Papeete in July 1992, during which community leaders identified key areas for reform, including the need to promote local production, the introduction of income tax and the lowering of import tariffs, the reduction of public servants' salaries, greater recognition of local identity in education, promotion of family planning in order to lower the birth rate, and land reform.[cdxxv] In January 1994, the Pact for Progress was given the approval of the French National Assembly and Senate under a "loi d'orientation", the French State and Territorial Government each agreed to contribute 44 billion F CFP from 1994 till 1999 in an attempt to compensate for the effects of the test suspension and to encourage local economic growth.[cdxxvi] By 1996, the Pact for Progress had been largely overtaken by events related to the closure of the CEP's operations in the Territory. In the intervening four years since its inception it could be observed that there had been no great action to address the major issues raised in the community workshops. While income tax was introduced, on 31 July 1994 it was rejected by the Papeete Administrative Court on the grounds that it was illegal in failing to respect the principle of equality of taxation.[cdxxvii] A Territorial Government appeal to the Council of State in Paris failed. In other areas good intentions came to naught. For instance while a Council for the promotion of Polynesian languages was set up, it was never convened.[cdxxviii] Land reform experienced the same problem a paper committee was set up to study the problem, but was never convened. In the area of economic reform, no great boost in local production was observable from 1992 to 1996, indeed territorial acceptance of compensatory funding for the closure of the CEP indicated that the old dependence mentality as regards subsidies from Paris was not about to disappear. Participants at the workshops in 1992 were justified when they took the opportunity to pillory territorial politicians, and to blame them for much of the economic dependence, and administrative instability, of French Polynesia.[cdxxix] Unfortunately it was upon those very figures that the realisation of the hopes expressed for the Territory's future rested.
In January 1993, Flosse led another territorial delegation to Paris to present French Polynesian proposals to Le Pensec. After some disagreement over the amount of additional state funding French Polynesia should receive over the following ten years,[cdxxx] Le Pensec committed the State to approximately 115MFF in special territorial funding in 1993. On 28 January, an accord was signed guaranteeing this, as well as committing the State to intensified infrastructural work, social programmes and economic diversification.[cdxxxi] After negotiations with the Balladur Government in September 1993, this amount became the first instalment of a projected total of 3,410MFF worth of funding for the territory from 1994 to 1998.[cdxxxii] The State needed to transcend the limitations of its past developmental assistance if it was to bring about fundamental change to the dependent state of the territory.
This consideration became more pressing in 1995, with the announcement of the imminent end of the activities of the CEP the following year after a brief final bout of testing from September 1995 to January 1996. This development brought to the forefront of debate French Polynesia's level of reliance on funding generated by the nuclear presence. The most publicised response to the resumption of nuclear testing by President Chirac at Moruroa on 5 September 1995 was the Papeete riot which followed on the 6th and 7th. The international media made much of the riot as a symbol of Tahitian defiance against French tests, but this characterisation merits closer scrutiny. It could be read more as an example of popular defiance against Flosse's conduct at the head of the Territorial Government than as an anti-nuclear protest. The international media, including Australian and New Zealand journalists, who happened to be in the Territory to witness the first test at the French Government's invitation, brought live televised coverage of the events as they happened. TV images were beamed by satellite to viewers around the world. Television viewers were presented with a presumed causal connection between testing and the violence, and were given the impression that such mayhem constituted a novel and unexpected turn of events, doubtless being the new-found voice of Polynesian nationalism letting vent its frustrations at French sovereignty.[cdxxxiii] This was just one element which motivated protest. While there were reports of downtown shops being ransacked and of the Territorial Assembly being fire-bombed, there was no mention of attacks against French military bases around Papeete, surely a more symbolic target for anti-nuclear protests. And it was difficult to see how the looting of Chinese-owned small businesses in the central city by Polynesians equated with opposition to French nuclear testing. Such activity however, is not out of context with regard to rioting and looting accompanying anti-Territorial Government trade union protests in October 1987, the strike and accompanying rioting of July 1991, and the seamen's strike of December 1991 to February 1992 and the street confrontations which accompanied it too. The common denominators of these protests was anti-Territorial Government sentiment, and discontent at local government failure to achieve social and economic reform. The resumption of French testing offered anti-government forces such as trade unionists, Tahitian nationalists, and enterprising pilferers a pretext with which to push their diverging agendas at President Flosse's expense.
In the short term the response of Paris to declining territorial revenue has been to replace military financial support with civilian aid. Even after over three years of suspension of testing activities, the CEP and other French military operations contributed 41 billion F CFP to the Territory, constituting one eighth of GDP.[cdxxxiv] Faced with the formidable problem of how to fill the gap a reduction in this amount would create, the Juppé Government decided to follow in the tried and tested path of its predecessors. In August 1995, at the time of the announcement that testing in French Polynesia would come to an end early in 1996, the Minister to the DOM-TOM, Jean-Jacques de Peretti stated that territorial development, and that of the rest of the DOM-TOM, lay in public housing projects, public works schemes and developing tourism.[cdxxxv] Upon the conclusion of his first visit to French Polynesia, on 7 September, he stated the Juppé Government's undertaking to fill the financial gap created by the withdrawal of the CEP with State funding to the Territory.[cdxxxvi] These orientations and the maintenance of State financial assistance hardly represented signs of new thinking, and such measures in the past had not led the way to greater territorial self-sufficiency.
The establishment of compensatory funding for the withdrawal of the CEP is not, in itself, the path to a reduction in territorial dependence on Paris.[cdxxxvii] French Polynesia faces serious challenges in the twenty-first century if it is to develop a higher degree of economic self-reliance. In the absence of exploitable mineral resources as rich as those of New Caledonia it is unlikely that Papeete will ever become as self-sufficient as Nouméa. Local agriculture might be developed to the point where it met a greater part of territorial needs, although its physical limitations are such that its capacity to become a major export earner are slight. The French Polynesian EEZ holds various possibilities for mineral and fisheries revenue, but its exploitation by the 1990s was still marginal.
Most importantly of all, it should be asked whether French Polynesian political leaders have the will to lead the territory out of its dependence. For all their pronouncements advocating reduced dependence, they persisted in seeing economic salvation as residing in recourse to metropolitan French subsidies. Their reasoning was based on the assumption that just as Paris had provided for territorial financial needs in the past, it would carry on doing so in the future, whatever the fate of the CEP. Territorial leaders may very well be right. There was no indication in the 1990s that Paris was becoming parsimonious. The amount of state finance required to stabilise the French Polynesian budget was minute by national standards, and was arguably worth expending to maintain a geostrategic base which had been useful to the Fifth Republic. However this assistance mentality gave the lie both to professed local aspirations to self-government, and to claims by French Governments and state planners that Paris aimed to encourage local autonomy. For all the administrative renovations in the 1980, the territory was more dependent on metropolitan France for its financial wellbeing in the early 1990s than it had been in the 1950s.
The persistence of French Polynesian reliance on the State cast doubts on the economic substance of internal autonomy, just as the disruptive infighting and profligate spending of territorial political leaders called into question internal autonomy's administrative viability. Financial mismanagement and self-interested, counterproductive manœuvring in Papeete since 1984 have eroded the perceived integrity and competence of territorial political leaders. Shortly before his return to Paris in February 1992, Montpezat expressed these doubts:
What these people undermine is the functioning of internal autonomy. [...] It is up to the elected representatives to ask themselves, are they really worried about the people they represent? It is worrying that not a week passes without them having recourse to the arbitration of the High Commissioner or the tribunals.[cdxxxviii]
Participants at the development workshops of July 1992 showed similar disillusionment with territorial leaders. Flosse commented wryly that they must have employed every abusive epithet they could find in the dictionary.[cdxxxix] An opinion poll published on 25 November 1992 by the two daily newspapers in Papeete, La Dépêche and Les Nouvelles, showed the extent of popular disaffection with local politicians. 70% of those polled indicated their belief that French Polynesian politicians were motivated solely by self-interest; 51% claimed that internal autonomy had failed.[cdxl]
In January 1993, around 3,000 protesters in Papeete called for the resignations of Flosse and Juventin, and for a clean-up of local political life.[cdxli] The protest was a response to corruption in territorial politics, corruption which had spread so blatantly that it had become public knowledge. Allegations of misuse of public office by public figures were nothing new in Papeete, although since the signature of the Internal Autonomy Statute the degree of corruption appeared to have worsened. Various local politicians had turned to their personal advantage the greater independence of territorial institutions from Paris.
The most prominent subject of allegations of corruption was Flosse. Unsubstantiated stories about his dealings were legion. A brief résumé of two affairs concerning which some substance has been revealed is offered here. The affairs demonstrate that since 1984, on occasion Flosse has used his position as Territorial President in an unprofessional manner.
In 1985 and 1986, what became known as the cement affair took place. In 1985 Flosse became well acquainted with the honorary South Korean consul in Papeete, Bernard Baudry, which led to an invitation for Flosse to visit Korea. During the visit, Baudry gave Flosse 28,000 free tee-shirts, made in South Korea, with "Tahoeraa Huiraatira" printed on them. After his return, Flosse gave Baudry exclusive rights over the importation of cement. Braun-Ortega, who was then director of a company importing New Zealand cement, brought legal proceedings against the decree, claiming that Flosse was exercising favouritism out of self-interest. In 1986 the Administrative Tribunal found that Flosse's accordance of exclusive cement importation rights to Baudry was in breach of free market principles and overturned it. Braun-Ortega took the case to Paris and laid charges against Flosse in September 1986; these were later dismissed.[cdxlii]
A longer case implicating Flosse involved the misuse of territorial funds for the development of property belonging to him. In May 1987, Les Nouvelles de Tahiti revealed that around 100MF CFP had been paid from public works funds to lay a private road leading to a residence owned by Flosse.[cdxliii] Litigation over the case dragged on until December 1992 when the Court of Appeal in Paris ruled that his appeal of an earlier guilty verdict had failed.[cdxliv] Flosse was given a six month suspended sentence and he paid a symbolic 1FF fine for the misuse of public funds.[cdxlv]
Such misuse of public position was not limited to Flosse. It was considered standard practice among territorial administrators to appoint friends and relatives to positions of responsibility, to dispense public funds in various forms to interest groups around election time, and to reap personal benefit from public office.[cdxlvi] The head of the Interisland Aid Development Fund in 1990, Roger Marara, offers a blatant example of the extent to which such practices were exercised in French Polynesia. In 1990 he had employed on his payroll his brother, his cousins, his sister-in-law, his brothers-in-law, his deacon, and his mistress, all of whom received their share of some 4,343MF CFP distributed in monthly salaries. Braun-Ortega discovered that the agency was employing some odd accounting techniques. On Nuku Hiva in the Marquesas, around 28,000MF CFP were distributed to build public housing, for which the construction costs were only 14,400MF CFP. Where the difference went could only be speculated upon.[cdxlvii]
Conduct by Juventin in his capacity as Mayor of Papeete offered proof of the extent to which corruption had penetrated municipal administration. Mention of his partisan support for protest against the Flosse Government from June to July 1991 has already been made, as has mention of the use of Papeete municipal vehicles to form roadblocks on 10 July 1991. Another irregular practice, revealed in 1990, was the receipt by Juventin of a monthly salary of 400,000F CFP as director of Taraama-Nui (The Big Clean-up), a rubbish collection firm employed by his municipality.[cdxlviii] Questions were asked about the legality of Juventin having both a financial interest in this company, and granting it exclusive rights over his municipality's waste collection. In October 1992, Juventin was charged with corruption, concerning which appeal proceedings promise to be as protracted as those surrounding Flosse.[cdxlix] Juventin was not the only local body administrator who attracted the interest of the law. In August 1992 Hiti Tetoe, the municipal chief of police in Papeete, and Pierre Chanut, a former adviser to Juventin, were charged with abuse of public office and "active corruption".[cdl] By 1995, there were signs that Juventin was reaching the end of his political career. On 21 July he resigned from the presidency of Here Ai'a, having lost the confidence of his party after setbacks in the municipal elections of March that year, and as a result of ongoing hearings over corruption allegations and questions of abuse of office.[cdli]
For all this, French Polynesian voters have continued to offer their backing to established formations in territorial politics. French Polynesian abstention rates in territorial and in national elections have shown no generalised increase since 1981. Flosse's career has not been greatly affected by his protracted court cases, and nor has Juventin's. In the legislative elections of March 1993, Flosse won back his seat as Deputy for East Polynesia, while Juventin was elected RPR Deputy for West Polynesia. (Table 42) Some discontent could however be read into the unprecedented level of support which Temaru received in the elections. He gained 44.32% of the vote in the second round in West Polynesia,[cdlii] far ahead of past levels of support for Tavini Huiraatira candidates, which usually fell between 10% to 15% of the vote. Temaru attracted a greater percentage of the vote in his electorate than either of the FLNKS candidates managed in New Caledonia during the legislative elections. Roch Wamytan obtained 13.82% of votes cast in the first New Caledonian constituency, while Léopold Jorédié gained 28.90% in the second constituency. (Table 20) It was speculated by Temaru and his sympathisers that the unusually high level of support gained by the Tavini Huiraatira candidate in West Polynesia was a sign of disaffection among French Polynesian voters looking for a radical change,[cdliii] although by the mid-1990s there was still no sign that pro-independence parties threatened Flosse's majority.
It has yet to be seen that the political class in Papeete has deserved the greater powers accorded by Paris from 1984. The behaviour of politicians in Papeete has had a tendency to be immature, self-interested and inherently unstable. Territorial Governments since 1984 have shown neither great administrative flair, nor imagination, in addressing the developmental problems facing them, preferring to recycle old ideas offered by state plans that have had limited success. Policy packages proposed by Flosse for economic recovery proved as incapable of improving the efficiency of the territorial economy as Léontieff's, although admittedly the former was faced with trying circumstances from 1991. In 1992 and 1993 Flosse was in the unenviable position of trying to develop an economy troubled by strikes, political infighting and factionalism, not to mention the imposing question of the suspension of the CEP.
On the basis of French Polynesian political behaviour, it could plausibly be asked whether a return to the arbitrary, impersonal state dirigisme of the 1960s might not be preferable to the greater territorial self-administration exercised since 1984. The State could exercise greater control over the profligate spending of the territorial bureaucracy if not for the barrier to intervention posed by the Internal Autonomy Statute. But such a recentralisation would not resolve socio-economic and structural questions. Politically motivated mismanagement is not solely a French Polynesian failing it has not been absent from metropolitan French political conduct. Many of the troubles facing French Polynesia in the 1990s were the creation of the State, either directly or indirectly. The implantation of the CEP was organised in Paris long before 1981 with little regard for the socio-economic consequences in the territory. Territorial leaders may have been inadequate administrators, but they have acted under conditions of autonomy granted to them by the French State. Intellectual renovations will be needed in Paris as well as in Papeete to stabilise the administration of the territory.
In the decade following the foundation of internal autonomy, French Polynesia was still in search of the financial means to its realisation, and of the original policy which might transform it from an institutional condition into political reality.
Notes
[i] In order to protect against unscrupulous operators, no notes, bibliography or other references are provided in this Web publication. Readers wanting a specific reference may contact me at wsmccall@maxnet.co.nz.
© Wayne Stuart McCallum 1996.
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