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.
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.
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.
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.
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