SHARE
COPY LINK

OPINION AND ANALYSIS

OPINION: ‘France should get tough on hunters… but it probably won’t’

France remains the most dangerous place in western Europe to go for a country walk or cycle ride in autumn and winter and while there are many things that could be done to make people safer, it doesn't look like anything will happen soon, says veteran France correspondent John Lichfield.

OPINION: 'France should get tough on hunters... but it probably won't'
Photo: AFP
I was sitting in my garden in Calvados the other day contemplating this year’s glorious co-existence between autumn leaves and summer flowers. Bang!! A shower of lead pellets passed a few metres behind my head shredding the leaves of the apple trees.
 
My 80-something neighbour was accidentally stalking me again. According to the law, he is forbidden to fire his gun within 150 metres of a house or a road. He breaks the law most Sundays between September and February.
 
I have complained politely in the past. Other neighbours have complained. He shrugs and insists that he is very careful and has not yet killed anyone. He never seems to hit a bird or animal either so that is not especially reassuring.
 
No one in the hamlet cares to make an official complaint to the gendarmerie. He is the first assistant mayor of the commune, a man of some local power.
 
READ ALSO:

How to get through France's hunting season 'without being shot'Photo: AFP

Elsewhere in France, autumn has also started with a bang – and a series of predictable tragedies. Five people have been killed since the hunting season commenced last month. The victims include a 34-year-old British chef, Marc Sutton, shot by a young, inexperienced hunter while riding his mountain bike on an official trail in Haute Savoie.
 
Last weekend, a hunter was killed in the Meuse; another off-road cyclist was wounded in Ariège; and two surfers complained that they were fired upon by pheasant shooters on the Finistère coast in Brittany.
 
Hunting accidents have been declining in France in recent years. “Only” 13 people lost their lives in the six months of the 2017-18 hunting season, compared to 18 the previous year and an average of 20 since the start of the century. Most victims are other hunters.
 
France remains nonetheless the most dangerous place in western Europe to go for a country walk or cycle ride in the autumn and winter. This year’s early season carnage is probably explained by the Indian Summer, which has brought more people into the hills and woods.
 
What can be done? Several things.
 
What will be done? Not much, if the experience of my 22 years in France is anything to go by.
 
READ ALSO:
'It's like the Wild West': Tales of life in rural France during the hunting season
 
Over 80 per cent of French people in one recent poll said that they supported a ban on hunting on Sundays. A petition to President Emmanuel Macron calling for a Sunday ban launched by the wildlife protection group ASPAS (L’Association pour la Protection des Animaux Sauvages) has attracted over 185,000 signatures.
 
There is no reason to expect action soon. The hunting lobby, though representing only two per cent of the population, is very powerful in France. One Macron-supporting deputy, Alain Péréa, provoked fury a week ago when he suggested that the way to protect cyclists from being shot dead on forest trails was to ban VTT (off-road) cycling in the hunting season.
 
The Macron administration, though supposedly “metropolitan” and out of touch with La France Profonde, is surprisingly pro-chasse. In August the government halved the annual fee for a national hunting licence to €200, without placing any new restrictions on les chasseurs. This was one of the reasons why France’s favourite Green Guru, Nicolas Hulot, resigned as environment minister last month.
 
Macron may believe that hunting is the way to the rural heart. He is wrong. In my experience in the Calvados hills 20 miles south of Caen, genuine country people rarely hunt. My gun-happy neighbour is the exception, rather than the rule.
 
A recent national survey confirmed my suspicions. One third of the country’s 1.2 million hunters are executives or members of the professions. Less than one in ten are farmers or farm labourers.
 
READ ALSO:

Photo: AFP

The hunters who pour into my commune at the weekends come from the suburbs of large towns. They are like an invading militia, dressed up in camouflage jackets and trousers, covered by the legally-required day-glo vests (an absurd combination but probably responsible for the fall in the hunting death rate).
 
I am not against hunting but I have come to fear and dislike these people. They leer aggressively at walkers as if to say: “rather you, than me. We’ve got guns. We can do as we like.”
 
I’m not alone. My 70-something neighbour Madeleine says: “I hate them, I hate them. I never feel safe when they are around.”
 
So what COULD be done? A ban on hunting on Sundays is long overdue. France is the only country in western Europe in which shooting is allowed seven days a week.
 
The existing rules should be enforced more rigorously, including the rules on not firing or carrying loaded guns near houses or roads.
 
There should be tougher rules on safety training for hunters – not just the new recruits but the over-50s who make up the bulk of a slowly declining pass-time.
 
There should also be rules against drinking while hunting and random breathalyser checks by the gendarmerie.
 
Will any of this happen soon? I doubt it.
 
John Lichfield is a former France correspondent and foreign editor for the Independent newspaper. You can follow him on Twitter @john_lichfield
 

Member comments

  1. Most of this article is absolute rubbish. I am English, have lived in France for 20 years, and passed my “Permis de Chasse” in 2001. And, believe me, it was not easy. I am proud to be a “chasseur”, have hunted with many all of whom have safety and politesse as an integral part of their behaviour. All of them are lovers of nature and I am, frankly, sick and tired of reading the rubbish which is being printed at the moment.
    Nobody mentions the scores dying on Mont Blanc risking greatly the lives of those who try to save them and then risk again their lives collecting their bodies.

    Leave us alone. We are part of France’s heritage.
    Peter Smith

  2. I was walking in the Ariège this weekend. On Saturday we came across some hunters, they were organized, had signs out and let the others in their group know by walkie talkie that we were coming their way, we did not feel scared at all. Sunday it was very foggy, we thought there might be hunters because of the SUV’s, no
    warning signs were out, when we saw the hunters I tried to make contact and was
    ignored, it was very foggy, we stuck together and made a lot of noise shouting and
    singing, we were scared and relieved when we got to the other side of the hill, we
    think there were only 2 hunters. A well organized considerate hunt is not the
    problem, It is the individuals that go out with few lookouts and shoot at any
    movement. Both days we were on a GR. Sunday a shot came very close to us. Not all hunts are the same.

  3. People claiming to be lovers of nature and revel in destroying it need to educate themselves on the meaning of ‘love’. I have nothing but contempt for those who kill for pleasure, but were there licences to hunt ‘hunters’, I might well be at the head of the queue.

  4. Mr. Smith and his ilk are not hunters. A true hunter uses his stalking skills, not a pack of dogs and human beaters to drive the game onto the guns. That is slaughter.

  5. This article is spot on. It matches my experience as a country dweller in France for 20 years. The large game shooters with their rifles and the shotgun slingers fire dangerously close to people and houses with little apparent regard for walkers and cyclists. Macron’s charm offensive with les chasseurs is deplorable.

  6. There is no discipline, and none of them shoot straight.They use rifles with sights but still just fire. They have no idea of the range.One od the past mayors said there is no respect and there is no one to enforce the law.My two thoroughbreds survived after the President of the Chasse helped put my land Chasse Reserve. I had found shooters in the oaddocks with the horses anothercso called rule broken. My dog is on a lead in the hunting season. Keep on alert!!

Log in here to leave a comment.
Become a Member to leave a comment.
For members

OPINION AND ANALYSIS

OPINION: Why Germans’ famed efficiency makes the country less efficient

Germans are famous for their love of efficiency - and impatience that comes with it. But this desire for getting things done as quickly as possible can backfire, whether at the supermarket or in national politics, writes Brian Melican.

OPINION: Why Germans' famed efficiency makes the country less efficient

A story about a new wave of “check-outs for chatting” caught my eye recently. In a country whose no-nonsense, “Move it or lose it, lady!” approach to supermarket till-staffing can reduce the uninitiated to tears, the idea of introducing a slow lane with a cashier who won’t sigh aggressively or bark at you for trying to strike up conversation is somewhere between quietly subversive and positively revolutionary – and got me thinking.

Why is it that German supermarket check-outs are so hectic in the first place?

READ ALSO: German supermarkets fight loneliness with slower check outs for chatting

If you talk to people here about it – other Germans, long-term foreign residents, and keen observers on shorter visits – you’ll hear a few theories.

One is that Germans tend to shop daily on the way home from work, and so place a higher premium on brisk service than countries where a weekly shop is more common; and it is indeed a well-researched fact that German supermarket shopping patterns are higher-frequency than in many comparable countries.

Bavarian supermarket

A sign at a now-famous supermarket in Bavaria advertises a special counter saying “Here you can have a chat”. Photo: picture alliance/dpa | Karl-Josef Hildenbrand

Another theory is that, in many parts of the country (such as Bavaria), supermarket opening hours are so short that there is no other way for everyone to get their shopping done than to keep things ticking along at a good old clip.

The most simple (and immediately plausible) explanation, of course, is that supermarkets like to keep both staffing and queuing to a minimum: short-staffing means lower costs, while shorter queues make for fewer abandoned trolleys.

German love of efficiency

Those in the know say that most store chains do indeed set average numbers of articles per minute which their cashiers are required to scan – and that this number is higher at certain discounters notorious for their hard-nosed attitude.

Beyond businesses’ penny-pinching, fast-lane tills are a demonstration of the broader German love of efficiency: after all, customers wouldn’t put up with being given the bum’s rush if there weren’t a cultural premium placed on smooth and speedy operations.

Then again, as many observers not yet blind to the oddness of Germany’s daily ‘Supermarket Sweep’ immediately notice, the race to get purchases over the till at the highest possible rate is wholly counter-productive: once scanned, the items pile up faster than even the best-organised couple can stow away, leaving an embarrassing, sweat-inducing lull – and then, while people in the queue roll their eyes and huff, a race to pay (usually in cash, natch’).

In a way, it’s similar to Germany’s famed autobahns, on which there is theoretically no speed limit and on which some drivers do indeed race ahead – into traffic jams often caused by excessive velocity.

Yes, it is a classic case of more haste, less speed. We think we’re doing something faster, but actually our impatience is proving counterproductive.

German impatience

This is, in my view, the crux of the issue: Germans are a hasty bunch. Indeed, research shows that we have less patience than comparable European populations – especially in retail situations. Yes, impatience is one of our defining national characteristics – and, as I pointed out during last summer’s rail meltdown, it is one of our enduring national tragedies that we are at once impatient and badly organised.

As well as at the tills and on the roads, you can observe German impatience in any queue (which we try to jump) and generally any other situation in which we are expected to wait.

Think back to early 2021, for instance, when the three-month UK-EU vaccine gap caused something approaching a national breakdown here, and the Health Minister was pressured into buying extra doses outside of the European framework.

This infuriated our neighbours and deprived developing countries of much-needed jabs – which, predictably, ended up arriving after the scheduled ones, leaving us with a glut of vaccines which, that very autumn, had to be destroyed.

A health worker prepares a syringe with the Comirnaty Covid-19 vaccine by Biontech-Pfizer. Photo: John MACDOUGALL / AFP

Now, you can see the same phenomenon with heating legislation: frustrated by the slow pace of change, Minister for Energy and the Economy Robert Habeck intended to force property owners to switch their heating systems to low-carbon alternatives within the next few years.

The fact that the supply of said alternatives is nowhere near sufficient – and that there are too few heating engineers to fit them – got lost in the haste…

The positive side of impatience

This example does, however, reveal one strongly positive side of our national impatience: if well- directed, it can create a sense of urgency about tackling thorny issues. Habeck is wrong to force the switch on an arbitrary timescale – but he is right to try and get things moving.

In most advanced economies, buildings are responsible for anything up to 40 percent of carbon emissions and, while major industrials have actually been cutting their CO2 output for decades now, the built environment has hardly seen any real improvements.

Ideally, a sensible compromise will be reached which sets out an ambitious direction of travel – and gets companies to start expanding capacity accordingly, upping output and increasing the number of systems which can be replaced later down the line. Less haste now, more speed later.

The same is true of our defence policy, which – after several directionless decades – is now being remodelled with impressive single-mindedness by a visibly impatient Boris Pistorius.

As for the check-outs for chatting, I’m not sure they’ll catch on. However counterproductive speed at the till may be, I just don’t see a large number of us being happy to sacrifice the illusion of rapidity so that a lonely old biddy can have a chinwag. Not that we are the heartless automatons that makes us sound like: Germany is actually a very chatty country.

It’s just that there’s a time and a place for it: at the weekly farmer’s markets, for instance, or at the bus stop. The latter is the ideal place to get Germans talking, by the way: just start with “About bloody time the bus got here, eh?” So langsam könnte der Bus ja kommen, wie ich finde…

READ ALSO: 7 places where you can actually make small talk with Germans

SHOW COMMENTS