Thursday, May 24, 2018

Review of François Hollande's "Les leçons du pouvoir" (Lessons of Power)

In early 2018 I was awarded a small research grant which funded an almost five-week sojourn in Paris. I was there between April 3rd and May 7th, and the purpose of the trip was to interview a small sample of French political actors and obtain sources at the French National Library which are unavailable in Canada. Collecting primary data is immensely valuable for developing insights on a distinct political context, but equally important is the opportunity to feel the local “pulse”. This occurs via conversations with politically engaged locals, reading newspapers, and watching television programs. An event that caused a stir during my stay in Paris was the publication of former French president François Hollande’s memoirs, titled Les leçons du pouvoir (Lessons of Power). It received extensive coverage in the French newspaper I regularly read (Le Monde) and on political talk shows, unsurprisingly, because he led the country during a crucial period in its history—2012 to 2017—when numerous thunderstorms, especially the financial and the migration crises, destabilized the continent and threatened to upend the entire European edifice. Hollande’s tenure still casts a shadow over the country; it ended with a historically significant election which culminated in a stand-off between Marine Le Pen and Emmanuel Macron. In some respects, this election was a replay of the political earthquakes that resulted in the triumph of Trump and Brexit, but France bucked the populist trend of its Anglo-Saxon partners and elected a liberal reformist who now embodies the hopes of liberals across Europe and around the world.
           
un président normal


François Hollande is not a scholar, and Les leçons du pouvoir is not a scholarly text. Nonetheless, students of political science and/or European politics will find that the book contains many valuable lessons about the character of governance, domestic and external, in one of Europe’s most important countries. Equally impressive are the portraits sketched by Hollande of key political leaders he closely worked with, such as current French president Emmanuel Macron and Russian president Vladimir Putin. Lastly, his reflections on the future of the centre-Left in France have lessons for this political family across the Western world. Recent elections point to the rise of identity politics, nationalism, populism, and xenophobia, trends that the traditional Left—which historically represented the interests of the working class—has struggled to respond to. As Hollande correctly notes, the existential challenge for the Left is to offer solutions to these trends that do not betray its cosmopolitan and internationalist orientation.

L’Etat C’est Moi

The executive branch in France is a unique hybrid, containing elements of classical presidentialism and traditional parliamentarianism. Regarding the latter, the country has a non-elected Prime-Minister who is mainly responsible for domestic affairs and who answers to the National Assembly. But, unique among Western democracies, this parliamentary practice co-exists with a directly elected president with broad powers over domestic and international affairs. In other European countries, presidential functions are mostly symbolic—presidents are not directly elected, are expected to incarnate the nation and be detached from the messiness of political partisanship. Not in France; although the president is ostensibly neutral, he in fact makes political decisions in the most ideologically contested spheres of society. And, unlike in other Western democracies, he does not need the consent of the legislature to pass crucial reforms or the budget.

This “elected monarchy” seems to be in tension with the radical democratic ethos associated with the revolution. Indeed it is, and one of the most fascinating parts of Les leçons du pouvoir is its account of the contradictory elements of French society which reflect the country’s institutions of governance, including the presidency. In Hollande’s own words:

our society demands authority even when it defies authoritarianism…the president must be at the same time distant and approachable, rigid and caring, majestic and modest, mysterious and transparent, monarchical and citizen.

Hollande was elected in 2012 and won, in part, because of frustration with his predecessor’s (Nicolas Sarkozy) feverish governing style and the wish for a “normal president”: calm, cerebral, poised, and dignified. At the time of his victory, France faced two serious challenges, namely a weak economy and the eurozone crisis. There were and are two broad options to the crisis, neoliberal or Keynesian, and Hollande, as a social democrat, subscribed to the latter. During the campaign, he promised to challenge the neoliberal approach, which in practice would have meant challenging German power in Europe. As often happens, the reality of power clashed with his ideals, and Hollande was unable to keep many of his promises. Nonetheless, he claims, with some justification, that his policies, especially in the labour market and for small enterprises, helped to turn things around. By the end of his tenure in 2017, growth had returned, even though it was feeble; unemployment numbers improved, although reaching a level (around 10%) that resembles France’s southern neighbours more than the economically dynamic countries of the North.

The relationship between France and Germany, and particularly Hollande and Merkel, forms a crucial part of the book; this is unsurprising, since their agreement is a sine qua non for major decisions in Europe. But this does not mean that, pace Hollande, equality reigns supreme between them. Particularly in the governance of the euro, Germany had the final say over major policies, a reality which Hollande indirectly admits when he says that, for his proposals to pass, “je dois conviancre l’Allemagne; les autres suivront” (I have to convince Germany; the others will follow). This reality of Germany’s effective veto chimes with the observations of another European statesman who published his memoirs, former Greek Finance Minister Yanis Varoufakis (my review of his book can be found here), which reveal the reality of German primacy beneath the surface of “partnership” and “multilateralism”. However, Germany does not exercise absolute control in Europe’s politics. Here, a distinction needs to be made between security and economic issues: Germany leads the latter, France the former.

Some of the more fascinating parts of the text are on France’s external relations, particularly in the realm of military affairs. In Africa, France intervenes unilaterally, especially in the francophone nations which are former French colonies and which continue to rely on the country for their security. Helping them to fight jihadists is an activity that Hollande is particularly proud of. He recounts the intervention in Mali in 2012, when Malian president Dioncounda Traore requested French military assistance. After obtaining the consent of neighbouring countries, French fighter jets pummeled the jihadists who, without this decision, would have, according Hollande, taken over the country and formed another caliphate. Afterwards he visited the country, and was greeted as a saviour by the president and by locals, an event he calls “le plus beau jour de ma vie politique” (the most beautiful moment in my political life). He describes it rather theatrically:

France demonstrated that she is capable of intervening without ulterior motives or based on selfish interests; the sole motive was to ensure the security of a region and serve a just cause. A decision made in a few minutes inside a gilded office in the presidential palace changed the destiny of an entire people and signaled a victory of democracy over barbarism.

Hollande clearly believes that France has the sacred mission to spread liberty around the world. Students of international politics will recognize parallels with the U.S.; both countries were born of radical revolutionary principles, in both centrist elites believe that they are uniquely in possession of universal political moral truth, and that they have a duty to spread the Word to mankind—whether mankind likes it or not. Hollande, unsurprisingly, is uncritical of this essentially religious belief, ignoring the tensions between its supernatural character and his country’s ostensibly secular state. Even worse, he completely ignores France’s role in causing chaos and instability while claiming to be defending the rights of man. France is one of the world’s largest producers of weapons, and one wonders whether Hollande lectures Saudi Arabia about human rights when it sells weapons to that country that are used to bomb civilians in Yemen. Libya is an even more damning example; it was Hollande’s predecessor, Nicolas Sarkozy, which led the overthrow of Ghaddafi—a policy apparently motivated by humanitarian principles and that Hollande’s party supported. Now, Libya is an unspeakable mess, with jihadists controlling half the country and slave markets reappearing in major cities.

This omission of France’s role in bringing death and chaos to the Middle East, rather than human rights and democracy, also has the whiff of hypocrisy when he criticizes America for destroying Iraq or when he condemns Vladimir Putin’s policies in Syria. Hollande frames the conflict in the latter country, predictably, as a democratic revolt against a barbarous dictator, while putting France on the side of justice and Putin on the side of the evil Assad regime. Unsurprisingly, he ignores the overwhelming influence of jihadists among the rebels, neglects to mention that Assad is supported by Syria’s minorities (and many members of the Sunni majority), and omits France’s role in perpetuating the civil war in the country by materially supporting one side (along with its ally Saudi Arabia, that paragon of human rights and democracy). His account of the Ukrainian crisis is not that much more nuanced, but it is more valuable because it provides an insiders account of his and Merkel’s negotiations with Vladimir Putin over the future of the country.
 
Cold as ice
After long and arduous negotiations between Hollande, Merkel, Putin, and Ukrainian president Porochenko in 2014, an agreement was reached which aimed to preserve the unity of Ukraine while responding to the concerns of the country’s large ethnic Russian minority. The accounts of these negotiations paint a fascinating portrait of Vladimir Putin, who, Hollande says

is muscular and mysterious, warm and attentive even while he is icy and brutal, always facing his interlocutor with his blue eyes which are simultaneously seductive and threatening; he has a deep sense of humour while being very cynical, and expresses the most acerbic ideas in a calm voice…he is cold, determined, unpredictable and tender.

According to Hollande, when France and Germany took a tough stance against Putin, they were speaking on “behalf of a united and determined Europe.” This is not really accurate, since Europe is actually divided on the major question of relations with Russia; strategically important countries, like Italy, actually prefer friendlier relations with their Eastern neighbour and oppose the policy of confrontation implemented by America, France, and Germany. Even in the latter two countries, moreover, major political actors want warmer ties with Russia (La France Insoumise and Front National in France, Social Democrats in Germany). Thus contra Hollande, the decisions taken by France and Germany vis-à-vis Russia do not reflect the will of Europe, nor does their governance over Europe’s foreign affairs—which takes place outside of the EU’s formal multilateral institutions—enjoy universal legitimacy.

Admittedly, Franco-German leadership arises out of functional necessity: the EU is composed of 27 members, each with different interests and ideals, and obtaining agreement among them requires a Herculean effort. This is not conducive to the swift and coherent decisions that are required to resolve international crises. There is a need for an expedited process, and the French-German duo arguably fills the void.  Les leçons du pouvoir provides support for this proposition when it recounts the eurozone crisis, which, during Hollande’s tenure, was existential in character. One particularly notable example was the European Council meeting of May 23, 2012; at the time, bankruptcy, collapse and another Great Depression were real threats. Immediate action was needed, and yet during the meeting, all 27 member states were given a voice. Predictably, agreement could not be reached, leading to a decision by the president of the European Council, Herman Van Rompuy, to reconvene in a month’s time so that they can once again discuss the proposals. According to Hollande,

banks were suffocating, markets were skeptical, countries were sliding into recession, but we could not react immediately…these methods [of decision making] slowed everything, and it is this that explains the inadequacy of Europe’s response to the crises.

Hollande’s major proposal to fight the crisis was informed by his Keynesian principles: a 100 billion euro investment fund to help countries in distress. Hollande succeeded, not because of the multilateral institutions of the EU, but rather because, in his own words, he convinced Germany. Once again, Hollande reveals the true leadership structure of the currency union: Germany has the final say over major policies in the form of an effective veto which others do not really have. This power structure is not visible if one only pays attention to the treaties or to the voting procedures of the multilateral meetings. It is revealed mainly when we get insider accounts of statesmen who participated in major decisions.

Hollande’s successor, Emmanuel Macron, embodies the hopes of many who desire a strong France which is able and willing to challenge German’s approach to managing Europe. At the time of this writing, Macron has been president for only a year and thus it is too early to tell whether he will succeed. To prevail he must unite the country around his vision of transforming France into a dynamic market oriented economy, while convincing foreign investors that France is open for business; in light of France’s statist traditions, this will be a tall order. Hollande’s portrait of Macron provides some scintillating details that suggest he is up to the task. Macron, says Hollande,

has a rare talent in uniting people who possess different political sensibilities…he knows how to seduce his interlocutor…his capacity to seduce entrepreneurs, his dynamism in promoting the French brand, and the confidence he inspires among investors could be assets that accelerate employment and economic growth.

Hollande also mentions some of Macron’s defects:

in 2015, Macron affirmed that there is an implicit nostalgia for the monarchy in France, the disappearance of which left a void at the summit of the state…since his election, it is clear that Macron governing style is an attempt to fill this void.
 
Liberals' last hope
Hollande also indirectly accuses Macron of treachery; although he does not use the word trahison (betrayal), it is implicit in the text: Macron was planning his campaign to replace Hollande while he was a minister in the latter’s government, and his program includes the attempt to replace the traditional left-right divide, which would entail the demise of Hollande’s socialist party.

The Future of the Centre Left

Students of political science will find Les leçons du pouvoir valuable for some of its observations on one of the signature developments of the last twenty years: the decline of the traditional Left. Hollande’s socialist party was decimated in the last election, but this trend is not unique to France. Recent elections in Germany and Italy have produced similar outcomes. Voters who, in the past, would have voted Left, are moving towards the extremes. There is wide agreement among political scientists on the main cause: the traditional Left responded to the needs of the working class, but structural trends, such as economic globalization, technological change, mass migration, and the rise of non-economic identity politics have led to voter re-alignments. The traditional Right remains the pro-business party, while the traditional Left has tried to reconcile the interests of the working class with its openness to migration, international trade, gender, racial, and LGBT concerns. Rightly or wrongly, large sections of the working class feel neglected and betrayed, which is why they are abandoning their former patrons in droves while moving towards sovereigntist parties who promise to use the nation-state to reassert control. This dynamic helps to explain the victory of Trump and the popularity of Bernie Sanders in the US; Brexit and the rise of Jeremy Corbyn in the UK; ADF’s triumph in Germany; and the recent populist victory in Italy.

Hollande says that this particular political situation leaves the traditional Left with two unpalatable choices. It can return to its roots and defend the interests of the working class, but at the expense of neglecting other groups, like migrants and minorities, and at the cost of denouncing economic globalization; doing this would mean betraying its cosmopolitan and internationalist orientation. Or it could build a shaky coalition of non-economic based identity groups (women, Muslims, non-whites, gays) and cosmopolitan professionals; this would mean abandoning the working class and driving them to the sovereigntist parties on the extreme left or right. Hollande’s solution to this conundrum will sound familiar to political observers: France must copy the Scandinavian countries, which seem to have the magic formula for reconciling the free market, openness to trade, migration, and social justice. Known as “flexi-security” in European parlance, it refers to the adoption of policies that protect workers, such as a strong welfare state, to cushion the blow of economic insecurity while funding educational and training programs which allow them to quickly adapt to globalization’s rapid competitive and technological pressures. Address the economic insecurity, the argument goes, and xenophobia will decline, making workers more open to migrants and other minorities. It is the centre-left, Hollande argues, which is uniquely capable of implementing this vision.

This program helped to guide Hollande’s actions as president of France. Although economic trends slightly improved during his tenure, he seems to have not convinced his countrymen. In the last presidential election, the extreme right (National Front) and extreme left (La France Insoumise) together took an unprecedented 40% of the national vote, and much of their support came from the working class voters who, in the past, would have voted for the centre-left. Although Macron, a pro-globalization reformist, ultimately prevailed, this does not reflect a radical change in the country. Macron’s victory can ultimately be traced to the peculiarities of France’s two round electoral system rather than widespread support for his vision (in the second round, the majority of voters’ first candidate is not an option, and so many voters abstain or they vote against one candidate rather than for another). Therefore, Hollande has not succeeded in slowing or reversing the slide towards radicalism. Many of my French friends strongly believe that if Macron fails, a sovereigntist will win the next election. In that case, France will likely follow Britain and exit the EU while erecting barriers to protect it against the destabilizing winds of globalization. The stakes of incumbent, therefore, are extremely high.