Sitting at the very tip of Brittany, Plogoff is famous for being France’s westernmost village and for winning an epic David-and-Goliath battle against the authorities in 1980.
Although part of France, Brittany has a personality distinct from the rest of the country: Celtic, wild and somewhat stuck in its ways. The further west you travel, the more this personality intensifies into Finistère then the Cap Sizun and finally arriving at Plogoff.
The Land’s End of France, this is a rugged landscape of granite cliffs and windswept gorse, its men traditionally working at sea or on the land while the women kept everything running at home.
Tourists admiring the windy viewsSinuswelle/Shutterstock
Over 800,000 visitors a year are drawn to the Pointe du Raz coastal point as well as the beaches, coastal paths and quaint harbours. It is a gem of vast landscapes, clear waters and unspoilt natural heritage.
So you can imagine the shock in December 1974 when villagers heard that a nuclear reactor would be built here.
Fighting to protect Breton heritage
The decision-makers in Paris felt that this remote spot would be ideal, and that its simple, rural occupants would be thankful for the resulting housing estates, leisure centres and new employment opportunities. They were very much mistaken. Locals rejected the plans immediately, leading to a seven-year battle that is still talked about today.
Raised in Plogoff, Fañch Le Henaff was a teenager at the time. In a previous Connexion interview, he said that Bretons were already fighting to protect their natural heritage against offshore oil spills, pesticides and pollution; the nuclear plant posed an even bigger threat.
The rugged coastline of the Pointe du RazSinuswelle/Shutterstock
“For us, it was about more than the environment. Decisions were being made unilaterally in Paris with no consultation; this was a cultural battle to defend Brittany and our way of life, but above all to defend democracy. That is what should inspire others, and the fight has to continue in order to keep the land healthy for future generations.”
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At the time, there were fewer than 2,000 villagers, yet the momentum of their protests forced a six-week public enquiry in 1980. Streets were blocked, official documents burned, barricades built and rebuilt, gendarmes were brought in, but the people stood their ground.
In May 1980, a mini festival drew 100,000 supporters from all over France. The response prompted politician François Mitterand to promise that if he were elected, he would cancel the project: and the nuclear plans were officially scrapped on December 12, 1981.
Pors Loubous Harbor during the summeraurelie le moigne/Shutterstock
As elsewhere, recent decades have seen youngsters leave to pursue city careers, but since the pandemic, the village has benefited from a rejuvenating influx of younger residents. Many older houses have been renovated, and new businesses are flourishing.
Our lady of the castaways sculptureLasse Johansson/Shutterstock
Thanks to the resilience of its villagers, Plogoff maintains its quiet dignity and rugged beauty.
Most locals cannot imagine living anywhere else; newcomers will tell you that there is a captivating energy here.
The village is moving with the times but you will still spot the occasional retiree in the supermarket with wooden sabot clogs over his slippers, and many places still close from October to April.
Now immortalised in books and films, Plogoff’s fight against the nuclear reactor was an underdog story that resonated nationwide at the time and remains an example of Breton defiance and the effectiveness of impassioned protest.
Not bad for a village at the edge of the world.
White houses line a street in PlogoffOliver Hlavaty Photo/Shutterstock
