【深澤真紀】2026年10月20日 フランスや世界の若者のデモ

France's High School Protests: Anger at the Education Crisis and Inequality

On October 6, 2026, more than 250,000 high school students took to the streets across France. Their demands centered on three points: renovation of dilapidated school buildings, an end to the chronic teacher shortage caused by deteriorating pay and conditions, and reform of the university admissions system introduced roughly a decade ago. That new system favors students from urban areas and wealthy families—and what drew particular attention was that even students at elite schools in central Paris declared the inequality unacceptable and joined the marches.

The protests turned violent in places, and authorities carried out mass arrests; European media reported that thousands were detained and that some students lost limbs or eyes due to excessive use of force, though coverage in Japan was nearly absent. By October 17, labor unions, university students, and ordinary citizens had joined, swelling the movement to 550,000 people and adding anger over the rising cost of living to the original demands. President Macron called on observers not to conflate those pressing legitimate grievances with those engaged in destruction and looting, and the government began moving to repair the oldest school buildings and secure temporary teachers.

The One Piece Pirate Flag as a Global Protest Symbol

In 2025, an unexpected phenomenon spread around the world: the Jolly Roger from the popular Japanese manga *One Piece* (ワンピース) became a protest symbol hoisted at demonstrations country after country. The flag appeared in movements that forced government ministers to resign in Peru and Nepal, and was carried in more than ten countries including Indonesia, the Philippines, East Timor, Morocco, Ecuador, Bolivia, and Madagascar. It was also seen in advanced economies such as the United States, France, and Germany, but was especially prevalent in emerging nations across Asia and Latin America.

The explanation lies in resonance. Young people suffering under corrupt governments and extreme inequality found themselves drawn to *One Piece*'s central theme of standing up against power and oppression, and adopted the pirate flag as a symbol of resistance. No official statement came from the publisher or the author. When Fukasawa introduced the phenomenon in a university class, almost none of the Japanese students had heard of it—while students from Nepal and the Philippines were instead surprised, asking: "Why wouldn't people use that flag in the country that made One Piece?"

Why Japanese High School Students Don't Speak Up — 46 Years of the 1969 Directive

Japan's schools face the same problems as France's: crumbling buildings, gyms without air conditioning, unusable swimming pools, and a severe teacher shortage. Yet Japanese high school students do not protest. Fukasawa points to a single document as the primary cause: the 1969 directive (1969年通知). When student movements radicalized in 1968 and 1969, the Ministry of Education issued a directive that effectively prohibited political activity by high school students; mandatory club participation was reportedly also intended to steer students away from politics.

The directive was finally rescinded in 2015, ahead of the extension of voting rights to 18-year-olds in 2016—but it had constrained Japanese education for 46 full years. Even after its repeal, private high schools can independently restrict political activity on campus, leaving the contradiction that students old enough to vote are barred from political activity in their own schools. Student councils gradually stopped pushing for changes such as abolishing school uniforms and became focused almost exclusively on running cultural festivals—a shift that unfolded within this same current.

The Fork in the Road Between Japan and Europe, and Today

Europe in the 1960s and 1970s also experienced intensifying student movements, at times more extreme than Japan's. But the policy responses that followed went in opposite directions. European countries lowered the voting age to 18, cultivated a culture of political parties visiting middle and high schools to hold mock elections, and moved to recognize young people as genuine participants in political life. The result is a society where 20-year-old members of parliament and village mayors are not unusual. For university students in the West, joining a demonstration during a lunch break is casual; in some countries a student can submit a formal absence notice to school stating they are attending an environmental protest.

Japan, by contrast, held university entrance and employment hostage. Students were told for generations that joining a protest would damage their school records and make them unemployable. In France, Fukasawa notes, engagement with social issues actually strengthens an application to a top university. "Suppressing the political participation of young people," she argues, "is a major reason Japan has not developed for thirty years." As defense spending rises and education budgets are cut, she concluded, the real damage to Japan's future comes not from protesting—but from staying silent.