“We will remember this ceremony.” At the exit of the Chevalet, around 7:30 p.m., the demonstrators appeared delighted with their move. For half an hour, they trolled, heckled, the beginning of the wish ceremony from Mayor LR of Noyon Sandrine Dauchelle before ostensibly leaving. A splash of brilliance to round off an afternoon of demonstrationthe biggest since the start of the anti-Dauchelle protest this summer.
At 4 p.m., under a foggy sky and in bitter cold (between 0 and -1°C on the thermometer) the protesters began to gather. Hats, gloves, signs in hand, the associative sector, numerous elected officials – mayors and municipal councilors from throughout the Pays Noyonnais – girded with their tricolor scarf, traders and many Noyonnais display their determination to brave the conditions. One objective: the Chevalet theater where the 2025 greetings ceremony is to begin two hours later. A ceremony that some have asked to cancel due to a doubtful financial context which has forced the town hall to move into 2024 to block the advancement of agents, increase local taxes in a completely unprecedented way, and eliminate more than half of the subsidies to clubs and associations.
“We want a peaceful parade”
Michel Lebrun, technical director of the Judo Club Noyon, who by force of circumstances became the leader of the protest movement, limped (he was injured in training two days earlier) to a truck lined with speakers. After recalling the reasons for the fight, he passes the instructions (“we want a peaceful parade”) and recalls the issues: attending to the wishes of Mayor Sandrine Dauchelle.
The procession sets off. At the head of the parade, the sound system spits out hits now well known to the Noyonnais, concocted by Michel Lebrun himself since this summer. Biting parodies that scratch Mayor Dauchelle and her deputies. After the roundabout on Rue de Paris, the demonstrators rushed into the narrow shopping street. The foghorns make a racket, the signs “No to the dictatorship of Queen Dauchelle” or “Worse than an invasion of locusts?” are held high.
Between two slogans and pieces, the demonstrators say the reasons for their anger, which differ from one Noyonnais to another. Like this retiree who says: “I have lived in Noyon for 23 years, I have never seen a bazaar like this. The coffers are empty, nothing is being done and we have a mayor who is autocratic and doesn’t delegate at all, who is rubbish…”. David Louvrier, mayor of Golancourt, first vice-president of Sandrine Dauchelle at the CCPN, tricolor scarf on his back, recounts his experience “I was his vice-president for a year and I said I would never work again with her. It was a challenge to work with this person both in terms of his skills and his way of doing things.
After more than an hour of walking, music, dancing, and speeches, the procession arrived at the Place du Trestle half an hour before the festivities. Due to exceptional circumstances, this year the municipality had a barrier erected between the Easel and its square and a system to guide spectators to the Easel. Michel Lebrun takes the microphone again and announces the end of the parade: “From now on, we are no longer demonstrators, but Noyonnais who want to attend the ceremony to which we have been invited. We put up the signs and wait in line: we’re going to go home.”
Philippe Laredo from the Jazz in Noyon association, which organizes a festival every year, slips a few words as the crowd heads towards the theater: “Now, we have to show our credentials to have rooms, there is a risk for my festival of jazz, but other associations are also in the crosshairs, if you are an opponent you have no right to anything, if you are loyal – in the sense of the mafia – then you have the right”
It is now time for the ceremony, the demonstrators flock to the Easel and form the largest queue ever seen on a greeting evening in Noyon.
Tensions at the entrance to the Chevalet, Sandrine Dauchelle heckled during her ceremony
“I declare the demonstration over.” Michel Lebrun had intended since the start of the parade to bring the procession of discontented people into the Easel for the mayor’s greeting ceremony. From his rolling podium, during the parade, he had prepared the troops: “As we are well brought up, every time the mayor says something, we will applaud very loudly, but like much too loudly.” It was with this idea in mind that the demonstrators turned into Noyonnais citizens and wisely headed towards the theater, guided by the metal barriers. The gendarmes, having supervised the procession and the municipal police, had already positioned themselves in front of the doors of the theater.
Chokri Mastouri as a shield between the mayor and the demonstrators
Soon the general director of services, Chokri Mastouri, became agitated. He gives orders to the municipal police, arranges “his” men to filter the two queues which form, one in front, the other on one side of the Easel. The first people approach the large doors usually open. A cordon of municipal police and gendarmes faces them. While the general director of services wants to validate each entry, tension rises. To a young person who wants to enter after an elderly couple who did not have to show any credentials, the DGS asks: “Are you invited?” “Yes,” replied the young man, “I am from Noyon.” “No, you’re not invited,” retorts the mayor’s right arm while the population has officially been invited by the mayor on her social networks.
The tension rises
The tension begins to rise. Fatih Cakiroglu and Ouicem Gadacha, two elected officials who began the mandate with Sandrine Dauchelle, but have now entered into dissidence, are orally angry with the general director. They don’t have the green light to go through the doors either. Meanwhile, the “stars” of Noyon, these inhabitants selected by the town hall to receive a reward, where the invited high school graduates and schoolchildren slip through a happy bazaar.
In the Easel, the mayor’s deputies walk in circles behind the large windows. Sandrine Dauchelle is absent. As if hidden, she lets her teams face the crowd, several hundred people who begin to roar. Isabelle Da Silva, the deputy in charge of security, finally passes speakers between the doors and addresses the crowd on the microphone, affirming that the Easel will probably not be able to accommodate everyone, a question of capacity and security . The boos rain down.
Calls for calm
As the tension rises a notch, Michel Lebrun repeats his instructions for calm. Additional police officers take over the square. The rumor of a dispersal of the crowd circulates. In the great confusion, as doors were regularly opened to let in the mayor’s special guests, the demonstrators slipped in and fooled security. Michel Lebrun and his crutches in the lead. Also dissident and opposition elected officials. Some demonstrators abandoned the idea of entry and eventually turned around. The announcement finally comes: “the gauge has been reached,” says Isabelle Da Silva, which is hard to believe. And in fact other guests still enter the enclosure after the final whistle. Around thirty people, perhaps more, will be refused entry.
When the DGS lectures the gendarmes
While the guests and Noyonnais-protesters enter the theater and its cozy atmosphere, behind the scenes the general director of services Chokri Mastouri is seething. He ended up attacking the gendarmes verbally: “I don’t thank you,” he said, waving a finger in front of him, “if we had widened the security perimeter as I had requested, this would not have happened. There, they entered and they are going to make a mess.”
But it’s too late.
The ceremony begins. As always, the mayor of Noyon, who is not very comfortable with speeches, took care to record her wishes on video. The giant screen displays his head. In the public the instructions are followed: wild applause. A few boos too. Each statement made by the mayor is ridiculed and mocked. The speech is made barely audible.
A remarkable entry
After a musical video interlude, the mayor of Noyon finally makes her appearance, descending the spans of the Chevalet to join the stage. The bronca is phenomenal. She displays a tight smile. Arriving on stage, she lends herself to the game of questions and answers with a host from the municipal harmony. Each of his words is mocked. Fog horns sound occasionally. The mayor’s voice trembles. Taken by a memory lapse, she is applauded like a child someone wants to encourage.
Suddenly a light comes on in the audience: someone is filming. The mayor reports this to her teams on the microphone. The DGS and the director of human resources go looking for the dangerous videographer: above all, so that no one can see the mayor being made a mockery of! Missed.
The demonstrators leave the room
While the municipal team finally took part in the game of presentation on stage and the photo (under the “vivas”: “The photo! The photo!”) it is time for another interlude. The demonstrators who have seen enough get up and, first loudly, then silently, hurry towards the exit. The Chevalet theater now has as many empty seats as the city center and deserted shops.
A few foghorns still echo in the corridors, while the judo director says he is “unfortunately sorry” for the two little dancers who came to take a few steps on stage while the demonstrators left.
Arriving on the square, the protesters congratulate each other. But they know that they have not really gained anything other than showing great solidarity and determination. Before turning on his heels, Francis Carton, former president of the basketball club, said to the crowd: “It’s not over.” Meanwhile, a few Noyonnais who apparently attended the ceremony from the auditorium returned to fill the vacant seats at the Easel. The ceremony can continue peacefully.
For the people of Noyon, 2025 is a hell of a year ahead.
More videos to come
