From our special envoy in Cargèse (South Corsica),
Night falls on Cargèse, in Corse-du-Sud, and silence envelops the assembly gathered in front of the small family chapel overlooking the sea and where rests Yvan Colonna, who died a year ago after the violent attack of one of his fellow prisoners. A little over two hundred people responded to the call of youth organizations for this vigil, in agreement and according to the will of the family of the independence activist. In small groups, family friends, nationalist activists, neighbors march through the chapel surrounded by cypresses, pines and olive trees to once again pay homage to Yvan Colonna, condemned for the assassination of the prefect Erignac. An act that the independence activist has always denied.
The two large braziers lit around it reveal closed faces. In a strangled voice, a woman whispers in her husband’s ear while Corsican songs begin to resound orchestrated by a group of musicians. Songs that speak of struggle, death, freedom.
The flames of the many candles arranged along the enclosure of the chapel and its stairs illuminate with a dancing light the Corsican flags, which stand next to a Kanak standard, a Breton and a Basque, hung on the grid. So many symbols of struggles for independence, struggles against a French state felt to be too central, too Jacobin, a negator of identity.
“It is part of Corsican history, forever”
“It’s important for us to come, show our support and continue the fight for justice and truth,” said a group of three people who came from Ajaccio, an hour’s drive away. “Yvan was assassinated by the French state, by France, and he died for Corsica,” said a lady. She remains convinced of her innocence. “He’s like Fred Scamaroni [un résistant corse durant la Seconde Guerre mondiale décédé en 1943 après son arrestation]he did not speak”, she concludes.
For his neighbor: “Yvan Colonna was already a hero, it has become a myth. It is part of Corsican history, forever”. A legend that is now passed down from generation to generation. You only have to see the still young faces present this Tuesday evening to be convinced. Many were not born in 1998, when the prefect Claude Erignac was killed, and few were when he was arrested in 2003, after four years on the run. “Yvan unites and continues to be a link between the generations”, notes Philippe, a childhood friend of the activist.
Late at night, as the embers of the hearths fall and the waxes of the candles continue to melt, a procession of cars leaves in the darkness. In the light of their headlights appears this sentence, which is repeated tirelessly on so many walls of the island: “Gloria à té Yvan” (Glory to you Yvan).