The Echo That Never Dies

In 2018, as France marked May 1968's fiftieth anniversary, the Yellow Vest movement erupted across the country. Protesters in fluorescent safety vests blocked highways, occupied roundabouts, and marched on Paris. Their grievances — economic inequality, distant elites, democratic deficit — echoed themes from fifty years earlier. As tear gas once again filled Parisian streets and debates raged in makeshift assemblies, it became clear that May '68's questions remain urgently contemporary.

The Return of the Repressed

Every generation seems to rediscover May 1968's central insights. In 2011, Occupy Wall Street protesters declared "We are the 99%" and created general assemblies eerily reminiscent of the Sorbonne's. The Spanish Indignados occupied public squares, practicing direct democracy. The Arab Spring saw students and workers unite against authoritarian regimes. Each movement independently arrived at conclusions May's participants had reached decades earlier.

This isn't mere repetition but recognition of persistent problems. The alienation that drove students to occupy universities has intensified in our age of precarious employment and student debt. The workplace authoritarianism that sparked factory occupations persists despite decades of management theory. The democratic deficit that May exposed has widened as global capitalism constrains national politics. The solutions attempted in 1968 remain relevant because the problems have deepened rather than disappeared.

Digital Barricades

Today's movements face similar challenges with different tools. Where May's participants had mimeograph machines and graffiti, contemporary activists have social media and encrypted messaging. The principles remain constant — bypassing official media, creating horizontal networks, spreading ideas virally — but the speed and scale have transformed.

The Yellow Vests used Facebook groups to organize without traditional leadership. Hong Kong protesters employed Telegram to coordinate actions in real-time. Black Lives Matter turned hashtags into rallying cries that crossed continents instantly. These digital tools enable the kind of spontaneous, decentralized organizing that May pioneered but at unprecedented velocity.

Yet technology also brings new forms of control. Surveillance capabilities that would have stunned 1968's police states are now routine. Algorithms shape what information reaches which audiences. Platform capitalism extracts value from the very communications meant to challenge it. May's participants worried about telephone taps; today's activists face comprehensive digital surveillance.

The Precarity Generation

May 1968's participants fought against too much security — the stifling certainty of lifetime employment in hierarchical organizations. Today's movements emerge from the opposite problem: radical insecurity. The gig economy, zero-hour contracts, and endless internships create a precarity that makes 1960s job-for-life seem utopian.

This shift changes movement dynamics. Students in 1968 could afford to drop out, knowing jobs awaited if revolution failed. Today's protesters risk everything in economies that offer few second chances. Yet precarity also radicalizes. When the system offers nothing to lose, resistance becomes logical. The nihilistic energy of "No Future" replaces May's optimistic "Be Realistic, Demand the Impossible."

Contemporary movements thus combine May's critique of alienation with urgent material demands. They want not just meaningful work but any stable work. They seek not just authentic relationships but affordable housing to maintain them. They demand not just participation but basic survival. The revolution becomes less about transcending prosperity than achieving security.

Climate Crisis and System Change

May 1968's ecological consciousness, marginal at the time, now appears prophetic. The movement's critique of productivism — both capitalist and state socialist — anticipated today's recognition that infinite growth threatens planetary survival. Contemporary climate movements explicitly link environmental and social justice in ways May's participants glimpsed but couldn't fully articulate.

Extinction Rebellion's tactics — blocking infrastructure, creating temporary autonomous zones, emphasizing joy alongside urgency — consciously echo 1968. Greta Thunberg's school strikes globalized a form of youth rebellion May pioneered. The demand for system change rather than climate change directly continues May's insight that partial reforms cannot address fundamental crises.

These movements face May's strategic dilemmas intensified. How can democratic participation address emergencies requiring rapid response? Can prefigurative politics creating future society in present practice work when time is running out? How do movements maintain hope while acknowledging potential catastrophe? May's experience offers no easy answers but valuable lessons about sustaining radical imagination under pressure.

Identity and Universality

Contemporary movements struggle with questions of identity and solidarity that May 1968 first raised but couldn't resolve. The movement's attempt to unite diverse oppressions — proclaiming "We are all German Jews" in solidarity with Cohn-Bendit — prefigured today's intersectional politics while revealing its complexities.

Black Lives Matter, #MeToo, and indigenous rights movements assert particular identities while seeking universal justice. They've learned from May's failure to adequately address specific oppressions within general revolution. Yet they also face challenges May encountered: how to build coalitions without erasing differences, how to connect particular struggles to systemic transformation.

The contemporary solution — acknowledging privilege, centering marginalized voices, creating spaces for autonomous organizing — develops practices May's participants groped toward. But tensions persist between identity-based organizing and class politics, between recognition and redistribution, between particular liberation and universal emancipation. May's example suggests these tensions are productive if acknowledged rather than suppressed.

The Question of Violence

Every contemporary movement confronts May's dilemmas about violence and property destruction. The dramatic images of burning cars and barricaded streets from 1968 both inspire and caution. In an age of militarized police and sophisticated surveillance, the tactical questions have evolved but the ethical and strategic issues remain.

The diversity of tactics debate — whether movements should embrace or exclude property destruction and physical resistance — replays arguments from May. Some argue that broken windows alienate potential supporters and justify repression. Others insist that property destruction is necessary self-defense against systemic violence. May's experience suggests both positions contain truth.

Contemporary movements have generally learned May's lesson about avoiding armed struggle in developed democracies. But they've also inherited its insight that purely peaceful protest can be ignored. The result is creative forms of disruption — blocking infrastructure, occupying spaces, hacktivism — that inconvenience power without providing pretexts for massacre. The barricade becomes metaphor more than military tactic.

Leadership and Organization

May 1968's suspicion of leadership and formal organization profoundly influences contemporary activism. Horizontal structures, consensus decision-making, and rotating responsibilities have become standard in movements worldwide. The general assembly model, pioneered in occupied universities, reappears from Zuccotti Park to Tahrir Square.

Yet May's experience also reveals the limitations of pure spontaneity. The movement's failure to create durable institutions meant its energy dissipated once the extraordinary moment passed. Contemporary movements struggle with this legacy: how to maintain horizontal practices while building power, how to coordinate without creating hierarchies, how to sustain momentum beyond initial enthusiasm.

Some contemporary movements attempt solutions May couldn't imagine. Liquid democracy uses technology to enable direct participation with delegated expertise. Platform cooperativism seeks to democratize the digital tools organizing modern life. Municipal movements like Barcelona en Comú translate assembly practices into electoral politics. These experiments continue May's search for organizational forms matching democratic ideals.

The Personal Remains Political

May 1968's insight that "the personal is political" has become so mainstream it's easy to forget how revolutionary it was. Contemporary movements assume that challenging racism, sexism, and homophobia is integral to social transformation. The connection between individual liberation and collective emancipation that May discovered now seems obvious.

Yet this legacy brings new challenges. The politicization of everything can become exhausting. Call-out culture sometimes replaces solidarity with surveillance. The demand for perfect politics in personal life can paralyze rather than empower. May's joyful discovery that everything could be questioned has evolved into anxious recognition that everything must be interrogated.

Contemporary movements thus seek balance May's participants didn't require. They must create spaces for learning and growth while maintaining accountability. They need to prefigure liberated relationships while acknowledging current limitations. They have to sustain long-term struggle without burning out. May's burst of revolutionary energy offers inspiration but not models for sustainable activism.

Global Perspectives

May 1968 was consciously internationalist, but its participants couldn't imagine today's globalized world. Contemporary movements operate in contexts where capital moves instantly across borders while people remain trapped behind walls. The questions May raised about democracy and participation become more complex when decisions in distant boardrooms shape local lives.

Yet May's internationalist spirit finds new expression. The global justice movement connects struggles across continents. Climate activism necessarily thinks planetarily. Digital tools enable coordination unimaginable in 1968. When Chilean students protest, they consciously invoke May's legacy. When French workers strike, they learn from movements worldwide.

This internationalism faces challenges May didn't confront. How can movements challenge global capital while respecting local contexts? Can universal principles accommodate cultural differences? How do privileged activists support struggles elsewhere without imposing solutions? May's example of simultaneous uprising offers hope while its failure to sustain international coordination provides warning.

Pandemic Politics

The COVID-19 pandemic created conditions eerily reminiscent of May 1968: normal life suspended, authorities overwhelmed, mutual aid flourishing, fundamental questions opened. The experience of lockdown — some discovering unexpected freedom from routine while others faced intensified exploitation — echoed May's class divisions.

The pandemic's "essential workers" were often society's most marginalized, revealing what May's factory occupations demonstrated: those who keep society functioning deserve decision-making power. The applause for healthcare workers resembled May's temporary elevation of previously invisible labor. But like May, recognition didn't automatically translate into power.

Contemporary movements emerging from pandemic experience carry May's lessons. They understand that crisis can shatter seeming inevitabilities. They've experienced mutual aid's possibilities and market failure's realities. They've seen how quickly authorities can mobilize resources when motivated. The question is whether this consciousness can create lasting transformation or will dissipate like May's revolutionary moment.

Lessons for Future Movements

What can contemporary activists learn from May 1968? First, that spontaneous uprisings can achieve what decades of organizing cannot — but also cannot sustain themselves without organization. The explosion of possibility requires preparation to channel it effectively. Movements need infrastructure ready when moments arrive.

Second, that cultural transformation matters as much as political change. May's lasting impact came through shifting consciousness rather than seizing state power. Contemporary movements that change how people think about gender, race, ecology, and democracy may achieve more than those focused solely on policy demands.

Third, that diversity strengthens movements when acknowledged rather than suppressed. May's attempt to unite students, workers, and others failed partly because it didn't adequately address their different situations. Contemporary movements that create space for multiple voices while maintaining common purpose have better chances.

Fourth, that joy and creativity are revolutionary forces. May's festive atmosphere attracted participants and sustained energy. Contemporary movements that make resistance pleasurable rather than grim duty tap deeper wells of motivation. The revolution should be desirable, not just necessary.

Finally, that failure can be productive. May 1968 failed to achieve its explicit goals but created possibilities still unfolding. Contemporary movements shouldn't measure success only by immediate victories but by seeds planted, consciousness changed, and examples provided for future struggles.

The Unfinished Revolution

May 1968 remains contemporary because its central questions remain unanswered. How can complex societies enable genuine participation? What would work without alienation look like? Can human needs rather than profit drive production? How do we create authentic relationships within oppressive structures? These questions matter more as inequality deepens, democracy hollows out, and ecological crisis accelerates.

Each generation must discover its own forms of resistance, but May's example provides crucial resources. Its demonstration that ordinary people can disrupt any system, its proof that spontaneous creativity exceeds bureaucratic imagination, its evidence that another world remains possible — these gifts retain revolutionary potential.

As we face crises that dwarf those of 1968 — climate catastrophe, resurging fascism, techno-feudalism — May's spirit becomes more necessary. Not its specific tactics or demands but its fundamental insight: that we need not accept the unacceptable, that we can imagine and begin creating different futures, that the beach lies beneath the cobblestones if we're willing to dig.

The movements of coming decades will look different from May 1968. They'll use tools its participants couldn't imagine to face challenges they glimpsed but didn't fully grasp. But they'll continue May's essential work: expanding human possibility, refusing false necessities, creating democracy worthy of the name. The revolution continues because it must. May's legacy is the proof that it can.