French History in an Escargot Shell
Contemporary Politics in France
About the time of Christ, Romans “Latinized” the land of the Gauls. With the fifth-century fall of Rome, the barbarian Franks and Burgundians invaded. Today’s France evolved from this unique mix of Latin and Celtic cultures.
While France wallowed with the rest of Europe in medieval darkness, it got a head start in its development as a nation-state. In 507, Clovis, the king of the Franks, established Paris as the capital of his Christian Merovingian dynasty. Clovis and the Franks would eventually become Louis and the French. The Frankish military leader Charles Martel stopped the spread of Islam by beating the North African Moors at the Battle of Tours (a.k.a. the Battle of Poitiers). And Charlemagne (“Charles the Great”), the most important of the “Dark Age” Frankish kings, was crowned Holy Roman Emperor by the pope in 800. Charlemagne presided over the “Carolingian Renaissance” and effectively ruled an empire that was vast for its time.
The Treaty of Verdun (843), which divided Charlemagne’s empire among his grandsons, marks what could be considered the birth of Europe. For the first time, a treaty was signed in vernacular languages (French and German), rather than in Latin. This split established a Franco-Germanic divide, and heralded an age of fragmentation. While petty princes took the reigns, the Frankish king ruled only Ile de France, a small region around Paris.
Vikings, or Norsemen, settled in what became Normandy. Later, in 1066, these “Normans” invaded England. The Norman king, William the Conqueror, consolidated his English domain, accelerating the formation of modern England. But his rule also muddied the political waters between England and France, kicking off a centuries-long struggle between the two nations.
In the 12th century, Eleanor of Aquitaine (a separate country in southwest France) married Louis VII, king of France, bringing Aquitaine under French rule. They divorced, and she married Henry of Normandy (soon to be Henry II of England). This marital union gave England control of a huge swath of land from the English Channel to the Pyrenees. For 300 years, France and England would struggle over control of Aquitaine. Any enemy of the French king would find a natural ally in the English king.
In 1328, the French king Charles IV died without a son. The English king (Edward III), Charles IV’s nephew, was interested in the throne, but the French resisted. This quandary pitted France, the biggest and richest country in Europe, against England, which had the biggest army. They fought from 1337 to 1453 in what was modestly called the Hundred Years’ War.
Regional powers from within France actually sided with England. Burgundy took Paris, captured the royal family, and recognized the English king as heir to the French throne. England controlled France from the Loire north, and things looked bleak for the French king.
Enter Joan of Arc, a 16-year-old peasant girl driven by religious voices. France’s national heroine left home to support Charles VII, the dauphin (boy prince, heir to the throne but too young to rule). Joan rallied the French, ultimately inspiring them to throw out the English. In 1430 Joan was captured by the Burgundians, who sold her to the English, who convicted her of heresy and burned her at the stake in Rouen. But the inspiration of Joan of Arc lived on, and by 1453 English holdings on the Continent had dwindled to the port of Calais. (For more on Joan of Arc, see here.)
By 1500, a strong, centralized France had emerged, with borders similar to today’s. Its kings (from the Renaissance François I through the Henrys and all those Louises) were model divine monarchs, setting the standards for absolute rule in Europe.
Outrage over the power plays and spending sprees of the kings—coupled with the modern thinking of the Enlightenment (whose leaders were the French philosophes)—led to the French Revolution (1789). In France, it was the end of the ancien régime, as well as its notion that some are born to rule, while others are born to be ruled.
The excesses of the Revolution in turn led to the rise of Napoleon, who ruled the French empire as a dictator. Eventually, his excesses ushered him into a South Atlantic exile, and after another half-century of monarchy and empire, the French settled on a compromise role for their leader. The modern French “king” is ruled by a constitution. Rather than dress in leotards and powdered wigs, France’s president goes to work in a suit and carries a briefcase.
The 20th century spelled the end of France’s reign as a military and political superpower. Devastating wars with Germany in 1870, 1914, and 1940—and the loss of her colonial holdings—left France with not quite enough land, people, or production to be a top player on a global scale. But the 21st century may see France rise again: Paris is a cultural capital of Europe, and France—under the EU banner—is a key player in integrating Europe as a single, unified economic power. And when Europe is a superpower, Paris may yet be its capital.
Today, the main political issue in France is—like everywhere—the economy. Initially, France weathered the 2008 downturn better than the US, because it was less invested in risky home loans and the volatile stock market. But France, along with the rest of Europe, is now struggling. French unemployment remains high (over 10 percent) and growth has flat-lined. France has not balanced its books since 1974, and public spending, at 56 percent of GDP, chews up a bigger chunk of output than in any other eurozone country. Abroad, the entire eurozone is being dragged down by countries heavily in debt—Greece, Spain, Portugal, Italy, and Ireland. The challenge for French leadership is to address its economic problems while maintaining the high level of social services that the French people expect from their government.
France has its economic strengths: a well-educated workforce, an especially robust services sector and high-end manufacturing industry, and more firms big enough to rank in the global Fortune 500 than any other European country. Ironically, while France’s economy may be one of the world’s largest, the French remain skeptical about the virtues of capitalism and the work ethic. Business conversation is generally avoided, as it implies a fascination with money that the French find vulgar. (It’s considered gauche even to ask what someone does for a living.) In France, CEOs are not glorified as celebrities—chefs are.
The French believe that the economy should support social good, not vice versa. This has produced a cradle-to-grave social security system of which the French are proud. France’s poverty rate is half of that in the US, proof to the French that they are on the right track. On the other hand, if you’re considering starting a business in France, think again—taxes are formidable (figure a total small-business tax rate of around 66 percent) and likely to increase. French voters are notorious for their belief in the free market’s heartless cruelty, and they tend to see globalization as a threat rather than a potential benefit. France is routinely plagued with strikes, demonstrations, and slow-downs as workers try to preserve their hard-earned rights in the face of a competitive global economy.
France is part of the 28-member European Union (or EU, a kind of “United States of Europe”), which has successfully dissolved borders and implemented a common currency, the euro. France’s governments have been decidedly pro-EU. But many French are Euro-skeptics, afraid that EU meddling threatens their job security and social benefits.
The French political scene is complex and fascinating. France is governed by a president (currently François Hollande), elected by popular vote every five years. The president then selects the prime minister, who in turn chooses the cabinet ministers. Collectively, this executive branch is known as the gouvernement. The parliament consists of a Senate (343 seats) and the 577-seat Assemblée Nationale.
In France, compromise and coalition-building are essential to keeping power. Unlike America’s two-party system, France has a half-dozen major political parties, plus more on the fringes. A simple majority is rare. Even the biggest parties rarely get more than a third of the votes. Since the parliament can force the gouvernement to resign at any time, it’s essential that the gouvernement work with them.
For a snapshot of the current political landscape, look no further than the 2012 presidential elections. The various parties all chose a candidate. Incumbent president Nicolas Sarkozy headed the center-right Popular Movement Union (UMP). He defended his tough-love, carrot-and-stick approach to dealing with the sluggish economy. During his tenure, he cut taxes, reduced the size of government, limited the power of unions, cut workers’ benefits, and (most controversially) raised the retirement age from 60 to 62. He also offered tax incentives to those who worked overtime (meaning above the current 35- to 39-hour workweek).
Opposing Sarkozy were a host of left-leaning candidates. François Hollande of the center-left Socialist Party (PS) pointed out that Sarkozy’s austerity policies were not working. The more-radical Left Front Party (which includes the once-powerful Communists) proposed raising the minimum wage to $2,200 a month and establishing a “maximum wage” of $500,000, beyond which you pay 100 percent taxes. The environmental Green Party (Les Verts) promised to stimulate the economy with half a million new green jobs.
On the far right was the National Front party (FN), led by Marine Le Pen, daughter of party founder Jean-Marie Le Pen. The FN campaigned on a “France for the French” platform, calling for expulsion of ethnic minorities, restoration of the French franc as the standard currency, secession from the EU, and broader police powers. Ms. Le Pen studiously avoided the kind of anti-Semitic, racist rants that have made her father notorious in France.
After several months and one TV debate (yes, the French election season is that short), François Hollande and the Socialists emerged victorious. And just one month after the presidential election, French voters returned to the polls to select all 577 seats of the Assemblée Nationale. Though it’s almost unheard of for a single party to win an outright majority of seats, that’s exactly what the Socialists did, eking out just over 50 percent. Other leftist parties also scored well, giving President Hollande a leftist mandate for change. Nevertheless, Hollande has to work closely with legislators, a strong minority of whom are from opposing parties.
François Hollande is politically moderate and personally modest, even boring. Raised in a suburban Parisian middle-class home, he rose quietly through the ranks: assemblyman from a nondescript département, small-town mayor, secretary of the Socialist Party. He’s never before held a major elected office. Though Hollande is a “Socialist” (a word that spooks Rush Limbaugh), he’s in the mainstream of the European political spectrum. France’s “Première Dame” is Valerie Trierweiler, a well-known journalist who writes for the glossy magazine Paris Match (the French counterpart to Time). Trierweiler is the first unwed first lady to occupy the Elysée Palace (French White House). Oh-là-là—imagine that in the States.
Hollande faces huge challenges. On the sluggish economy, he favors government expansion and stimulus rather than austerity: hiring thousands of teachers, building hundreds of thousands of homes, and taxing all income above a million euros at 75 percent. Abroad, he’s run into trouble working with Germany to shore up weaker members of the eurozone. And he’s had to abandon his promise to return the retirement age—at least for some workers—to 60.
France must also address immigration, which is shifting the country’s ethnic and cultural makeup. Ten percent of France’s population is of North African descent, mainly immigrants from former colonies. The increased number of Muslims raises more questions, particularly in tight economic times. The French have (quite controversially) made it illegal for women to wear a full, face-covering veil (niqāb) in public. They continue to debate whether banning the veil enforces democracy—or squelches diversity.
Finally, Hollande must deal with high-profile members of his own turbulent party. In the run-up to the 2012 election, the front-runner was former International Monetary Fund chief Dominique Strauss-Kahn. He was forced to drop out after being accused of sexually assaulting a hotel worker in New York City. All charges were later dropped, but he made an out-of-court settlement with the hotel worker. Then he was investigated for a string of sex parties with prostitutes—one newspaper called him a “pimp daddy.” (Strauss-Kahn has speculated he was framed by political rivals, and many in France would not find that too far-fetched.)
Another prominent Socialist is Ségolène Royal. She lost to Sarkozy in the 2007 presidential election, and lost to Hollande in the 2011 primary. As it happens, Royal and Hollande know each other well: They met in college, lived together for 30 years, and raised four children before splitting up in 2007. They never married. French politics makes strange bedfellows.
