Quillan, September 17, 1983, 9 a.m. Louis Fernandez, an active member of the upper Aude valley fishing society as well as an employee of the French company Formica, sounded the alarm. He reported to the police the complete destruction of the fish stock. Local authorities rushed to the spill site to observe the damage to the aquatic fauna. Residents flocked to the banks and bridges as well, witnessing the “distressing sight of hundreds of belly-up trout.”[1] The regional daily press echoed the growing concern: “The toxic river is moving slowly, spreading psychosis and anxiety as it goes,” as La Dépêche du Midi headlined the following day.[2] What was the murder weapon? Who committed such a crime? All eyes promptly turned to the Formica company. It would not be unprecedented for the French firm—which had produced the emblematic furniture material in the area since the early 1950s—to pollute the river.[3] The subsequent investigations proved less conclusive, while rumours of a deliberate mischief, unrelated to Formica, started to spread. Articulating multiple temporalities (the event, investigative processes, and justice), this article aims to shed further light on the incident using various archives (i.e., regional daily press, as well as police and fishers’ reports). I shall highlight reactions from local actors, notably fishers, to unravel their relationship to the river.
This pollution of the Aude river reached colossal proportions, setting it apart from previous episodes, as did the media coverage it received both locally and nationally. The press notably depicted a scramble for store-bought mineral water sweeping through the valley, as “10,000 people were deprived of drinking water.”[4] The authorities deployed major resources, adding to the spectacular nature of the event: the firefighters provided the population with water in tankers, while soldiers from the Third Regiment of Marine Infantry Parachutists cleared the river using nets and plastic bags, quickly overloaded given the number of fish corpses.[5] The Fédération Départementale de Pêche de l’Aude (Aude Departmental Fishing Federation), alongside its nearly 17,000 members, voiced its disappointment, particularly since the area was abundant in salmonids, species that thrive in the cold, torrential Pyrenean waters.[6] The press kept the broader public abreast of the enquiry, and the Bertrand-Buisson Institute in Montpellier soon identified the pollutant: phenol, one of the raw materials for Formica plastic.[7] Establishing who was responsible for the spill, however, fuelled debate: was it accidental discharge from the Formica factory, or an act of deliberate malice?
Then followed the longer timeframe of investigations, which the archives documented as well. Huguette Bouchardeau, then Secretary of State for the Environment, personally contacted her colleague Robert Badinter, Minister of Justice, urging him to conduct “rapid and thorough investigations” to uncover and punish the polluter.[8] On September 17, according to the police report, all evidence pointed to Formica.[9] And yet, further expertise turned out less categorical. The Conseil Supérieur de la Pêche (Higher Council of Fisheries) first commissioned an estimation of the harmful impact of the contamination on aquatic life.[10] On September 27 and 28, 1983, the Conseil commissioned an electrofishing operation. Upstream of the Formica factory, it was found that the fish population was “normal,” consisting of fario trout, with an estimated 2,776 fish per hectare. Immediately downstream, however, mortality was complete. The report concluded on the geographical origin of the pollution: “The technical research performed on the aquatic environment clearly indicates that the spill in the River Aude originated at the outlet of the Formica factory tailrace and that the volume of the toxic product must have been extremely significant in order to induce such a high fish mortality rate in a 25-metre-wide watercourse with a flow rate of around 2 cubic metres per second over a distance of 15 kilometres.”[11]
This document, although cautious, identifies the Formica factory as the culprit. Nonetheless, a second report published on 21 November 1983 by the Direction Régionale de l’Industrie et de la Recherche (DRIR, a decentralised department of the Secretariat of State for the Environment) did not confirm this finding.[12] The investigation was based on samples and on several visits to the factory to inspect the facilities and interview employees. Even though several hypotheses were considered, which could have led to an accidental spill, neither proof nor testimony substantiated them. The report determined that “it was impossible to establish that an incident that occurred [at the factory] could have resulted in the pollution.”[13] The two reports, therefore, provide contradictory results.
Finally came the time for justice. On 16 May 1984, Robert Badinter informed Huguette Bouchardeau that the case had been dismissed, underlining that the polluters had not been identified.[14] This decision followed the DRIR report, which was unable to prove that an incident had occurred within the factory. The dismissal of the case, which did not equate to an acquittal, contrasted with the commitment to fighting impunity within the Secretariat of State for the Environment. This reflects the struggles this young ministry—founded in 1971—encountered in implementing its priorities, echoing the sobriquet Robert Poujade bestowed on it: “the ministry of the impossible.”[15] The verdict spelled disappointment for local actors, such as Maurice Ferrières, president of the Languedoc-Roussillon canoe-kayak league, who condemned the State’s inaction: “The next day will be just like yesterday, and there will not be any more concern for the future of the river.”[16] The grievances of the paddlers were compounded by those of the fishers. Since responsibility had not been established, it devolved on them to repair the damage caused by phenol to offset the loss of fish stocks: they released more than seven tonnes of trout into the river before the opening of the fishing season in 1984. Yet the judicial decision did not silence the suspicions. On the second anniversary of the pollution, the Aude-Écologie association organised a gathering with fishers and paddlers on the Suzanne bridge, right in front of the Formica factory, where they laid a wreath in the Aude river “in memory of the unknown polluter.”[17]
This episode calls for several conclusions. First and foremost, such an incident humbles the historian by recalling her reliance on sources, albeit silent or contradictory, when faced with cold cases. I can, instead, contextualise the judicial decision, which occurred at the peak of the employment crisis in the Aude region amid continuing de-industrialisation, causing major concern among authorities. As Midi Libre commented in the wake of the pollution: “Condemning companies, even polluting ones, is also, and above all nowadays, condemning employment.”[18] Rather than elucidating the case, I would like to emphasise the suspicions and reactions of local actors. The incident triggered an ecological mobilisation in defence of the river, involving fishers, paddlers, residents, and environmental activists. Fishers especially developed expertise on the river and committed to defending its ecosystem beyond the mere conflict over the use of hydric and halieutic resources.[19] Finally—and this entails more historiographical implications—this reflection invites the historian to transcend the hegemonic paradigm of economic, social, and material progress in late twentieth-century France, which Formica furniture embodies. Environmental history, attentive to the relationship between humans and nature, paves the way for a renewed approach to modernisation in consumer and industrial societies.
[1] “Affligeant spectacle,” L’Indépendant, September 19, 1983. Translation from French by the author.
[2] “Accident chimique ou geste criminel? L’Aude gravement polluée,” La Dépêche du Midi, September 18, 1983. Translation from French by the author.
[3] For instance, the Formica factory polluted the river on October 9, 1972—an incident spontaneously acknowledged by the factory’s staff. It is also referred to in local newspaper Midi Libre. See: French National Archives (FNA), Ministry of the Environment archives, 19920558/34, General Directorate for Water and Forests report, 5 juillet 1973 ; “Le tollé et les inquiétudes des consommateurs et écologistes,” Midi Libre, September 20, 1983.
[4] “Aude : 10 000 personnes privées d’eau potable,” La Dépêche du Midi, September 19, 1983. Translation from French by the author.
[5] “Le 3e RPIMa au travail,” La Dépêche du Midi, September 21, 1983.
[6] Hérault Departmental Archives, Conseil supérieur de la pêche archives, 2439 W 1, Aude Departmental Fishing Federation moral reports, 1983-1984.
[7] “Le phénol, cause de l’empoisonnement”, Midi Libre, September 19, 1983.
[8] “Fermeté ministérielle”, La Dépêche du Midi, November 4, 1983. Translation from French by the author.
[9] FNA, Ministry of the Environment archives, 19920558/34, police report, September 17, 1983.
[10] FNA, Ministry of the Environment archives, 19920558/34, estimation of fish mortality, undated.
[11] FNA, ibid. Translation from French by the author.
[12] FNA, Ministry of the Environment archives, 20070113/32, DRIR report, November 21, 1983.
[13] FNA, ibid. Translation from French by the author.
[14] FNA, Ministry of the Environment archives, 20070113/32, letter from Robert Badinter to Huguette Bouchardeau, July 25, 1984.
[15] Poujade, Robert, Le Ministère de l’Impossible (Paris: Calmann-Lévy, 1975); Flonneau, Mathieu, “Entre ‘morale’ et politique, l’invention du ministère de l’impossible,” in The Modern Demon. Pollution in Urban and Industrial European Societies ed. Bernhart, Christoph, and Massard-Guilbaud, Geneviève (Clermont-Ferrand: Presses universitaires Blaise-Pascal, 2002), 109-125.
[16] “L’assassinat des rivières de France,” L’Indépendant, September 24, 1983. Translation from French by the author.
[17] “À la mémoire… du ‘pollueur inconnu,’” La Dépêche du Midi, September 18, 1985. Translation from French by the author.
[18] “Le tollé et les inquiétudes des consommateurs et écologistes,” Midi Libre, September 20, 1983. Translation from French by the author.
[19] Sociologist Christelle Gramaglia studied ecological mobilisation among fishers regarding river protection. On the collaboration between expert and amateur knowledge, see: Gramaglia, Christelle, “Passions et savoirs contrariés comme préalables à la constitution d’une cause environnementale. Mobilisations de pêcheurs et de juristes pour la protection des rivières,” Revue d’anthropologie des connaissances, 3:3, 2009, 406-431. Gabrielle Bouleau also highlighted the role of the Conseil Supérieur de la Pêche in spotlighting accidental pollution. See: Bouleau, Gabrielle, “Pollution des rivières : mesurer pour démoraliser les contestations,” in Une autre histoire des “Trente Glorieuses” Modernisation, contestations et pollutions dans la France d’après-guerre, ed. Pessis, Céline, Topçu, Sezin, and Bonneuil, Christophe (Paris: La Découverte, 2013), 211-229.
*Cover image: An excerpt from a press article entitled “Ecological disaster in the upper valley. The Aude river polluted by a violent poison” (“Catastrophe écologique en Haute-Vallée. L’Aude polluée par un poison violent [sic]”), published by the regional newspaper L’Indépendant on 18 September 1983, the day after the pollution. Image used with permission from the Aude departmental archives.
[*Cover image description: A clipping from a historic newspaper article. Beneath the headline are two photographs. On the left lies a dead trout, “fallen victim to human stupidity” as the caption states (“Une truite splendide victime de la bêtise des hommes”). On the right, there are the inhabitants of Quillan perched on the city’s old bridge, gazing out over the river. The caption reads: “A destruction that rallied all the Quillan residents” (“Une destruction qui a mobilisé tous les habitants de Quillan”).]
Edited by Teja Šosterič; reviewed by Deniz Karakaş.