A problem of bankrupt ideology? Not exactly. At least not in France. “When the Communist Party was strong, it was a protest party. Ideology was a cover,” says political scientist Yves Meny, an authority on European populism. “It protested against anything at all, and in France that tradition of protest is very strong.” But for the past five years, at least, the communists have been positively mainstream. The trend in European politics was toward a middle ground, a “Third Way” that tended to bring the traditional left and right together. The communists shared power and perks with the greens, the socialists and even the Gaullists in essentially the same centrist government–and came to be seen as part of the same political clique. It’s that cozy, centrist incumbent class that’s the big loser of the electoral turmoil these past few weeks, and the powers that be aren’t the only potential victims. The climate of protest that has exploded in France has serious implications for the stability of the country and, indeed, of Europe.
That is true even though President Jacques Chirac, representing the comfortable establishment, was expected to beat ultrarightist challenger Jean-Marie Le Pen easily in Sunday’s runoff vote. Chirac can expect no honeymoon. Part of his mainstream credo has been acceptance of more open borders, freer trade, liberalized economies, diminished deficits. Yet a common theme on the extremes of both left and right is to challenge all those assumptions. The political elite, which understood for many complex reasons why these policies should benefit the majority, failed to get that message across to a large part of the French population. Instead the incumbent leaders spoke in banalities and generalities that were often impenetrable. “We were so self-satisfied, so proud of our ambiguity,” says one Socialist Party insider. “It takes courage to be direct, and that’s what we lacked.”
The problem in France is not only one of communications. There’s also a more inchoate threat of protest for its own sake leading to fractured parties, stalemated government and a kind of political incoherence not seen since the 1950s. Since the shock of Le Pen on the right and a strong showing for almost nihilistic Trotskyites on the left, mainstream politicians no longer know quite where to turn. Nor do the voters.
With placards in hand vowing ON SUNDAY WE SLAUGHTER THE PIG (i.e., Le Pen) and similar sentiments, more than a million people turned out to march against the ultrarightist candidate on May Day last week: protesting against the protest vote, as it were. And even as they did so, they protested against Chirac, saying they’d wear rubber gloves or put clothespins on their noses when they cast their ballots. (Chirac stayed in the presidential palace, receiving a delegation of florists who brought lilies of the valley.)
France remains, of course, an essentially stable and prosperous country at the heart of Europe. It’s not about to descend into chaos. But it’s certainly in the midst of some major confusion. The Gaullists are feeling the pull of the extreme right, the socialists, communists and greens of the far left, and all existing coalitions show signs of fracturing. Le Pen’s hard-core supporters, meanwhile, are alternately angry, exultant and sometimes paranoid. When NEWSWEEK asked a commander of one of Le Pen’s skinheaded security contingents why so many had kerchiefs over their faces, he said it was to protect them from photographers and the government. “We live in a communist country,” he said. “We are not communists. So we are the enemy.”
The next real test for the nation and its leaders will come in June’s legislative elections. Even if the socialists and their leftist allies recover enough equilibrium to win a majority of seats, they’re reluctant to enter a new round of “cohabitation” with a right-wing president. They see how the past five years discredited them as an opposition. They want the protest vote of the future. But to have any chance, they need a credible leadership that can pull them together, and no one like that is in sight. Aloof former prime minister Lionel Jospin, the big loser in the first round, quit politics right after the vote and has sulked at home ever since. Francois Hollande, the nominal party leader, appears a colorless understudy. Former Finance minister Dominique Strauss-Kahn is charismatic, but has little support inside the party. He may be attracted to the private sector. Laurent Fabius, who has served as both prime minister and Finance minister in the past, is so patrician in his manner he makes Jospin look down and dirty. And as these figures vie for the mainstream, radicals around Julien Dray, a founder of SOS-Racisme, are looking to take over the left of the party.
Conceivably, Chirac and his allies might win a majority, which would tend to stabilize the government, but if they fall short they could be tempted to forge coalitions with Le Pen’s unsavory partisans. The worst-case scenario? France could find itself with a Parliament so divided that no clear majority exists and no lasting coalition can be formed. The president will be able to appoint a prime minister and cabinet, but legislation would require ad hoc coalitions for every measure, and under the Constitution no new elections could be held for more than a year. “The country runs the risk of becoming unmanageable,” says Meny. And this at a time when Europe is trying to forge a more perfect union, looking to double its membership and trying desperately to develop coherent foreign policies to address crises like the Middle East.
At some point French voters will have to be given a clearer notion of what they are for, not just what they are against. But that day has not yet come.
