The streets of Biarritz are burning. Thousands of protesters have clashed with French riot police as the G7 summit descends into chaos. Sources inside the security cordon confirm that demonstrators have breached the outer perimeter in three places, sending diplomats scrambling for cover. The official line from the Élysée Palace is that the situation is under control, but my sources tell a different story. One officer on the ground described the scene as a 'siege' with tear gas hanging over the historic seaside town.
At the heart of the storm, Britain's Prime Minister has broken ranks with the usual diplomatic restraint. This newspaper has obtained a leaked transcript of an emergency session where the PM urged fellow leaders to 'engage, not enrage'. The message was clear: allow orderly debate or risk delegitimising the entire democratic process. Sources close to the delegation confirm that Britain is now leading a push for a public dialogue with protest leaders, a move that has infuriated French security chiefs who favour a hard line.
The protests themselves are a coalition of the furious: climate activists, anti-capitalists, and yellow vest veterans. They have a common enemy in the 'corporate carnival' as one organiser put it. And they have a point. Uncovered documents from a leaked EU memo show that at least two of the attending nations have actively lobbied to weaken the final communiqué's climate commitments. The money trail leads back to fossil fuel interests with seats at the negotiating table.
But the violence is not the whole story. Behind the barricades, a more insidious battle is being fought over the summit's agenda. Insiders tell me that the British delegation is isolated on the issue of tax transparency. While London calls for orderly debate, its own offshore territories remain a black hole for the billions that fuel this very unrest. The hypocrisy is not lost on the protesters, who chant slogans against the 'tax haven kings'.
Meanwhile, the French government is playing to its domestic audience. Interior Minister leaked a statement to allies that 'order will be restored' before the summit ends. But order at what cost? Human Rights Watch has already filed a complaint over the use of rubber bullets and water cannons against peaceful demonstrators. The images from Biarritz will haunt this summit for years.
As the sun sets over the Atlantic, the G7 leaders sit down to a gala dinner. The menu is locally sourced, the wine is fine, and the conversation is likely about how to manage the narrative. But the smoke from the tear gas drifts over the villa walls and the sound of chants carries on the wind. This is not a summit that can be sanitised. The anger on the streets is a mirror; the leaders may not like what they see.
Britain's standing in all this is precarious. It claims the moral high ground on orderly debate, yet its own house is not in order. The dossier I have seen from the Foreign Office shows a desperate desire to avoid a repeat of the 2019 Champs-Élysées riots. But the ghosts of that chaos are here in Biarritz, and they are demanding answers. Follow the money, find the bodies. The corpses here are not just the violence that has been done to democracy, but the slow death of trust in the institutions that claim to govern for the people. The G7 may agree to debate, but the real question is whether anyone is still listening.
