Paris
EVERYBODY IN THE WORLD understood the war in Iraq was effectively over and Saddam Hussein’s regime defeated when French foreign minister Dominique de Villepin said, on April 1 (of all dates), that his country was standing by “our allies, the U.S. and Great Britain.” Even the French can tell a winner from a loser. The problem is that they should have realized a bit earlier that the United States would go to war and win. The same holds true for Germany. For a while, Chancellor Gerhard Schröder seemed as bitter as the French in his opposition to American policies on Iraq. As the war started, however, he couldn’t bring himself not to allow U.S. forces to use German facilities. And on April 2, his foreign minister Joschka Fischer made clear Berlin was supporting the ousting of Saddam. Another nice turn, indeed.
What should the United States do about the French and German eleventh-hour conversions? One view is that it should instantly welcome the sinners back into the Atlantic fold. Supporters of this view make two arguments. The first is that the Euro-American rift may have derived, at least in part, from an American failure to communicate. A less arrogant, less imperial, more sophisticated America–a State Department America rather than a Pentagon America–might have been more successful in winning the full support of such NATO countries as France, Germany, Belgium, and Turkey, and of many other countries as well, from Russia to China. The second argument is that even if America was right all along in its argument with some other nations, it would be pointless to drag the argument on precisely when the other side is dropping its case. What is important, after all, is the restoration of American leadership, rather than further humiliation of bad guys who admit–in some small measure, at least–to having been bad.
There is a different view, however, according to which America should not forgive and forget so easily. Republican congressman George Nethercutt is pushing, with some success, a bill to punish the “betrayers” through economic sanctions. As a citizen of France, I certainly do not welcome this initiative. However, I agree that the recent dispute was very serious and that it indicated a growing rift between America and many of its nominal allies or friends. A prevalent view among marriage counselors is that problems must be recognized in order to be healed. The same, perhaps, holds true for nations. America should not overreact. But if it doesn’t react at all, the problems that led to the Iraq-related crisis will grow again and spread. A sober but stern reaction will help America’s erstwhile allies reconsider their positions.
This is particularly true of France. President Jacques Chirac is not fiercely pro-American, but he cannot be described as a rabid anti-American, either. He drew an estranged France back into NATO in 1995, and granted French support to American-led military operations in Bosnia (1995), Kosovo (1999), and Afghanistan (2001). He was the first foreign statesman to visit Ground Zero and the first to meet with President Bush after 9/11. Moreover, it should be noted that in the case of Afghanistan, he had to overcome the opposition of a reluctant Socialist cabinet, led by Lionel Jospin. Why did the same man challenge America on Iraq in such a devastating manner?
The answer lies in the way France is ruled nowadays. The economist Jacques Lesourne once said that modern France was a “successful U.S.S.R.” By this he meant that France is a thoroughly statist country, where a single meritocratic elite (or “state nobility”) runs or owns almost everything of substance. Seventy percent of the French members of parliament, either right or left, are civil servants. Ninety percent of French ministers, either conservative or socialist, have graduated from the exclusive higher civil service school, the Ecole Nationale d’Administration (ENA). The share of the state or of the state-related sector in France’s GNP was once over 50 percent; it is still too high by the standards of the European Union. A disproportionate number of French CEOs are ENA graduates. Higher education is almost entirely state-run: There are virtually no private universities in the country. Even the media are more often than not state-controlled or subjected to state influence. AFP, France’s flagship press agency, explicitly depends on state tutelage.
It comes as no surprise that the French state nobility has streamlined public opinion over the years into an ideology that strengthens its own legitimacy. The French still love to debate, of course. And they may at times rebel against the state ideology, routinely referred to as “la pensée unique” (the “single thought”). But some dogmas are just beyond discussion, and some questions are off limits. Such is the case with anti-Americanism, a very convenient tool that brings together right-wing nationalists, in the Gaullist or Vichy tradition, with left-wing, post-Marxist nationalists. Chirac’s initial reaction after 9/11 may have been to back America, if only to secure a good bargain as far as French interests in the Middle East are concerned. But the state nobility as a whole, and large parts of French public opinion, were leaning against America.
The American victory in Iraq is now shattering “la pensée unique.” For the first time in years, those French citizens who are not happy with statism at home or anti-Americanism abroad have an opportunity to engage in a real public debate. Their cause will be helped if America doesn’t embark on a global boycott of France. It will be helped even more if America insists on redrawing the whole pattern of transatlantic relations.
Michel Gurfinkiel is a French essayist and journalist living in Paris.
