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Professor John Merriman: This is all relevant.
What happened at Villiers-le-Bel was that you got
your basic cop car, coming along,
and it wasn't rolling aggressively,
it was about fifty kilometers an hour, and these two young
North-African extraction youths, without helmets,
didn't yield to the car. They were on a scooter,
sort of essentially a motorcycle, not a big one but a
scooter. And, so, they hit the car on
the left side and unfortunately they were both killed.
And then the police stayed a bit and made calls but the calls
that they made were more, "we have something spinning out
of control," it's not about how are these two kids who--and you
see, they left it there for two
days, they circled it all away. So, you still see these little
guys' tennis shoes and you see--you can see traces of their
having expired. And, so, Villiers-le-Bel,
which is about eighteen kilometers north of Paris--it's
near Roissy, it's near Sarcelles,
where there was a lot of trouble before,
it's near Gonesse; it's in the Val d'Oise--went up
in flames basically, and unfortunately a lot of
people were hurt in the fighting.
And yesterday they burned, somebody stupidly burned the
library, and the library is not associated with the
flics, with the cops,
it's not associated with the State even, it is the municipal
library where lots of kids go and study in the municipal
library. And, so, this was just la
connerie, this is not possible to do
stuff like that. But, anyway,
part of the problem is that Sarkozy denigrated the people in
the suburbs as racaille, as scum, by implication,
that--and was Minister of the Interior during the big
troubles, a couple of years ago;
which I'm going to talk about on Wednesday,
the troubles, which started in
Clichy-sous-Bois. But there's a lot of--in
Toulouse where there had been trouble two years ago,
now it's happening in Toulouse, too, but I didn't--I'll watch
it this afternoon. It's a problem,
it's going to be a big problem for awhile.
And what makes it a little more scary is that this wasn't an
incident, where there have been incidents where the police
are--the police systematically control people of color,
systematically, in France, systematically.
I go through Barbès-Rochechouart,
which is a metro stop famous for the first place that
somebody shot and killed a German officer during Vichy
and--or the Gare de Lyon. I was in the Gare de Lyon,
not the other day but at the end of November--or for that
matter after Sarkozy was elected;
you go to the Gare de Lyon metro stop and all of a sudden
you turn the corner and then you've got ten policemen there,
controlling people. I've lived--I've spent half my
life in France for the last thirty years.
I have never been controlled, not once, not once.
And I've been with people going through, and you turn the
corner, and all of a sudden you've got all the police there.
And who do they pick out? They don't pick out whites
carrying little academic briefcases, they pick out
everybody, practically, who is young and who is not
white. And so this rubs people the
wrong way, to say the least, and it's part of the way this
works in the suburbs. And, so, this incident,
which involved a police car, was not coming in and sort of
saying "up against the mall MF" and all this but,
"let's see your papers." Because that's what happens,
and I've seen that happen. It was just unfortunately these
two policemen--who weren't doing anything wrong,
they were just--it was a banal trip through a banal suburb--
happened to hit these two kids who were not wearing helmets and
so they were killed. But this is--who knows what's
going to happen in this. But this is part of when you
see La Haine, hate, you see--that's the best
translation simply of it is hatred or hate.
And to understand how people in the suburbs feel you have to
understand the relationship between both--and I'm going to
do this again, in more detail;
I better get to what I'm doing today.
But that it's not just young people with not much of a
future, it also is, mostly has to do with
under-privileged and under-appreciated minorities
pitted against the CRS, the national kind of military
police, as well as the municipal police.
And of course what the government of Chirac did was
take away all the money virtually for voluntary
associations that are bridges to helping integrate people into
the communities in which they live and into the State in which
they live. But ce n'est pas
évident, comme on dit en
français, it's just--oh,
well, there we go. How did we get on that?
We got on that because it's important to talk about.
Allez. So, today I'm going to talk
about Charles de Gaulle. In November 1970,
ça passe vite, les temps,
I was a student in Paris, just a little older than you,
and living in an eleven-franc-a-night hotel,
on rue Monsieur le Prince--that was about two dollars a night.
My hotel room wasn't worth that, actually,
but it was kind of an interesting place to live
for--again, I was living in Limoges for a
lot of the year too. I went to the Archives one day
about--get there early, which I always do,
and this little man who was a World War Two veteran who had
lost most of his arm in the war, who would check my ID,
but he knew me so there was no problem--my wife used to come in
looking for me, when she was my wife,
carrying our baby and the groceries, and it's all very
décont racté,
very informal; it's not that way any more.
And he said, "we're going to close because
the general, il est mort"--the general is dead.
And Charles de Gaulle died, had died.
And I, I think, infuriated my Gaullist friend
by saying that he died of boredom watching French TV;
but he was off in Colombey-les-Deux-Eglises,
and he had died at age--he must've just been eighty;
wasn't he eighty when he died, do you remember?
You don't remember, but anyway I think he was
eighty when he died. And, so, later my Gaullist
friend, who's a lawyer, a Parisian lawyer,
called me up and said, "look, why don't we go down to
Notre Dame and go to the Mass?" De Gaulle didn't want to have a
Mass, and I didn't particularly want to go down to Notre Dame
and go to the Mass for Charles de Gaulle,
but he said that it'll be--it's a historical event,
we should be there, you should see it.
And so I went down, we went down at three in the
morning and waited in line, and then they'd flown in all
these people. Haile Selassie was there,
that was kind of amazing to see Haile Selassie,
and the odious Richard Nixon was there and all these leaders,
with rather minimum security. This was not in a high security
time. You could see people who were
carrying machineguns up on the towers, you could see people in
the cathedral up--I was about the only person anyone saw get
frisked, going in.
They looked at me and said we want to check you out;
so they checked me out, with the long hair and all
that. But we got in there,
and it was a moment of--as a moment of history,
and it was something to see. His influence on French life
and the memory of French life can hardly--the collective
memory, of collective memory in French
life, can hardly be underestimated;
yet it was so long ago that he died, and the party that bore
his name disappeared, that even if someone like
Sarkozy or, before him, Jacques Chirac,
would go to Colombey-les-Deux-Eglises,
this village in the Haute-Marne, in the east of
France, to have their picture taken in front of his tomb with
the Croix de Lorraine--de Gaulle seems like a long time ago.
But what he did in 1958 is of course to rescue the French
State and to define, in his own personage,
a certain idea of France that he represented.
And to borrow a Catholic image, de Gaulle who was born in
Lille, right near, as I said the other day,
right near the fortress--Lille is a pretty Catholic town--he
was not himself a practicing religious man,
but I suppose it's a religious image that I somehow have
retained in the back of my mind from the days at a good old
Jesuit high school in Portland, Oregon, that he saw himself as
the mystical body of France, that somehow the whole,
that is his body, his personage,
his very being, was bigger than all of the
parts that constituted the body of France,
and that he represented France with his very existence,
and that this was how he wanted to be remembered.
And when he leaves power in 1969, after a rather obscure
election, plebiscite really, that that image still was
retained. There are really three elements
that represented his image and the myth of Charles de Gaulle
after World War Two. That he was the providential
figure who through his own determination had saved France
and its honor after the blowout of May/June 1940;
that as his voice crackled over the BBC on the 18th of June,
1940, a date that's still commemorated every year when
there's a Gaullist in power and a mayor of France such as Chirac
there's always a little event to commemorate that;
that he had restored the integrity of France.
My friend Bob Paxton, as I reminded you the other
day, argued that Pétain might have saved the French
State but he did not save the French nation;
he destroyed it by destroying liberty, fraternity,
equality, and what that means. That Charles de Gaulle had
restored the integrity of France, had restored the
sovereignty of French over their own political existence,
which is obvious, and the republic itself,
by being involved in the creation of the Fourth Republic,
but then repudiating the way it was established,
wanting centralized executive authority and all of that,
and then would go off pouting to Colombey-les-Deux-Eglises.
That he'd then he'd reunified the nation after the civil war
that was Vichy. But, again, with a Gaullist
twist is that everybody had basically resisted,
or wanted to resist, that they were always ready
with the gun nearby to go and kill the German when they could
and to restore France, and that hardly anyone had
collaborated. So, this was sort of the
Gaullist take on this. And that he had restored the
centralized state--not after World War Two,
because the Fourth Republic was this sort of swinging door
ministry; it's rather like the Third
Republic--which as in the case of the Third Republic gave the
illusion that French political life was more unstable than it
was, because the deputies of the
Fourth Republic, like the deputies of the Third
Republic, it was a club where the same
people were re-elected time and time again from the same
constituencies. But de Gaulle's thing was that
the only form of government that could restore the integrity of
France and end the factions of parliamentary quarrels,
and quarreling, and he hated the communists,
of course, was a strongly centralized government.
And for that he had to wait, as you now know,
until cinquante-huit, until 1958,
with a constitution written for him by Michel Debré,
who personified Gaullism itself,
and whose son is an important figure in contemporary France.
This is very important for de Gaulle's view of France,
is that he had freed France, in his mind,
from the anarchy of political parties that were quarreling,
a parliamentary government that he didn't think had worked,
that was incapable of restoring the "grandeur" of France--a word
to which he returned constantly; more about that in
awhile--strengthening the French state under a new constitution
that--written by Debré--that gave France a
strong executive with a president who would be in power
for seven years, and who had strong executive
authority. Now, those of you who know
anything about France before 1871, if this doesn't sound like
Napoleon, both N-I, Napoleon the First,
and N-III, Napoleon the Third--it's an obvious thing to
say, but it's still true--that
in--there's no need you should know this, but some of you
do--1799 on the 18th of Brumaire,
Napoleon, with the help of the wily Abbe Sieyes,
the priest, Sieyes, who wrote "What is the Third
Estate," overthrow the Assembly.
Napoleon had a bit of a faltering and his brother Lucien
helped him out there, because he lost--the only time
in his life he really lost his courage--they overthrow the
government and impose a consulate in which Napoleon
becomes the first council and finally snatches the crown,
it is thought, from the Pope and crowns
himself emperor. And Napoleon adopts what would
become the most Gaullist political strategy,
shared by that of governments of North Korea,
among other dictatorships, that is the plebiscite,
where you ask people with a cagy question,
"Do you agree"-- for example, Napoleon III,
just before the fall of the whole mess at the end of the
1860s, in 1870 there was a plebiscite,
"Do you agree with the reforms that have been undertaken by our
glorious Emperor?" et cetera, et cetera.
If you write "no," you're saying, "well,
I don't really like reforms," and so therefore do you say
"yes" because you like reforms or "yes" because you like
Napoleon III? And, so, naturally the
plebiscite is like a North Korean plebiscite where
ninety-nine percent of the people say oui--that's
what Napoleon III did after he overthrew the Second Republic.
So, there are strong continuities between Napoleon
and the idea of a centralized state overcoming the sort of
quarreling factions of France. And Napoleon I put an end to
what was called, rather colorfully and an
unfortunate phrase, but "the war of the chamber
pots" that was the French Directory, before this whole
thing is overthrown. And, so, there's an appeal to
the nation. And Napoleon was one of the
originators of an aggressive kind of nationalism.
But Napoleon was perceived as somebody on the Left.
Napoleon III, before he was Napoleon III,
in 1841, wrote a little pamphlet called "Property,"
about property, called "The Extinction of
Pauperism"; and the idea that somehow the
caring State cares about all people in France and that all
people in France find part of their identity in the notion of
being French. And as you already know from
things we've talked about, that part of nationalism was
this sort of aggressive carrying of the French language into
corners in which it was not spoken,
or spoken only as a second way of speaking, language,
dialect, patois, et cetera,
et cetera. So, the idea of a national will
represented in the body of a strong executive authority is a
Napoleonic idea that became part of the political existence of de
Gaulle, and ultimately of Gaullism.
But you had to have the idea of it being ratified by the
people--thus plebiscites. Now, Pétain,
the difference is that Pétain in World War Two,
the "national revolution," in quotes, with the
Marshall--again the military connection, Napoleon,
Pétain, as he saw it,
and de Gaulle--it was never ratified by any kind of popular
vote because it was an even more authoritarian government under
Vichy. The 1920s and the '30s,
and the first half of the 1940s, was the wave of
authoritarianism that cost the lives of so many millions of
people, I need not remind you.
And that Bonapartism, as in Gaullism,
involved the kind of stamp of popular approval seen in the
plebiscites of 1958, and in subsequent plebiscites.
And he goes out in 1969, after he loses--they lose the
plebiscite. On January 18th--no,
I must've written this wrong, it must be the dix-huit de
juin, it must be June 18th,
1940--he says "I"--he often said "we," the royal "we,"
but in this case he said "I," because he wasn't yet running
the show--"I, General de Gaulle,
French soldier and leader, am conscious that I am speaking
in the name of France"--that I represent France;
again the mystical body. Michel Debré--again
d-e-b-r-e--who wrote this constitution of '58,
said that the only chance for French democracy,
if that term may be used, is to have a republican
monarch, and that was the Gaullist view of de Gaulle.
And he resigns on the 20th of June, 1946, and the Fourth
Republic comes into existence without him.
Now, when he returns to power, in '58, it was after--because
of the chaos of what was happening in Algeria that
republican institutions seemed to have been discredited.
And, so, he has the upper hand there to identify himself with
the strongly centralized French state.
It was clear in 1958, as it had been clear with
Napoleon--but this is a different case--Napoleon I,
that it was only de Gaulle at that moment who could impose
discipline on the French Army; thus the howls of betrayal when
the other generals say he's going to let Algeria become
free. And thus the sense of betrayal,
and they try to kill him. And, so, but for all of his
verbal-- his respect for and endorsement of popular
sovereignty, but his tool of State is really
often the plebiscite, which you can argue is sort of
a sham tool of democracy. What he does--and reflecting
the fact that the 1880s and the 1890s are the period of mass
politics when the first political parties are created.
Napoleon I and Napoleon III did not create political parties.
Political parties did not exist in France;
they existed, the Whigs and the Tories
existed in England already, but that is a long,
complicated story that starts with the run up to the English
Civil War at the middle of the seventeenth century.
But he creates a political party that will support him,
and his support, the people,
a lot of the people who were Gaullists in the late 1940s were
part of what is called the MRP, or whatever,
the big mass Catholic political party which was extremely
conservative. But he--the essence of this was
strongly centralized authority. Did he consciously pattern
himself after the Napoleons, or after Boulanger for that
matter? He'd been born in 1890,
in Lille, but brought up in--I think he was born in Lille,
I'm sure I've seen this house in which I thought he was born,
in Lille, but he was brought up in Paris.
He loved the Arc de Triomphe and he loved Invalides,
which is where Napoleon is buried.
I've got to just give you one small story, which I don't think
I've related. There is a famous American
tennis player who the first time this tennis player was in the
French Open, which is sponsored the Banque
Nationale de Paris, they took this tennis player on
a tour of Paris, and that tour got kind of old
for this particular player; after about an hour and a half
this person had seen enough. And then finally they said,
some journalists said, "what do you like best about
what you saw in Paris?" and the tennis player said,
"Oh, I really liked the tomb with the little dead dude;"
and the little dead dude is of course Napoleon,
and that image is still… Napoleon's tomb,
which you see from above, you can't see in the tomb,
it's not like when you're looking at Lenin or something
but--is a massive tourist draw, and that is something that's
always happened, that's always been the case
since then. He was a lecturer at the
Military College of Saint-Cyr, near Paris, and he lectured on
Napoleon's military campaigns and particularly that of 1805.
When he organized the French Free Forces in North Africa in
'41 he referred to Napoleon's campaigns that he'd studied very
carefully. But he knew also that because
the French Constitution had been written--that is the Third
Republic, end of the Fourth Republic--had
been written reflecting the fear of people like Napoleons,
the Napoleons, of Caesarism,
that he realized that that was always a possibility and always
spoke highly of things like popular sovereignty.
He always used a kind of appeals to the French masses
that Napoleon himself had done so effectively--more about that
in a minute, and his sort of plunging into
the crowds, to the horror of his guards.
Something happened when Gorbachev came to the United
States, and Gorbachev was such an impressive person and such an
under-appreciated great man. And Gorbachev just shocked his
guards by getting out of the big, black limousine near the
mall in Washington and sort of plunging and giving high-fives,
the Russian equivalents of high-fives, to people in the
crowd, where the guards were just scared to death because we
had lost a Kennedy and all this, two Kennedys,
indeed, and because of security issues.
And de Gaulle who had survived these various assassination
attempts, and one in which, as I said, just this huge man,
this car which is riddled by machineguns, a couple of guys
firing in Clamart, and he escapes absolutely
unscathed. Napoleon was only wounded three
times, very lightly. Napoleon seemed to have this
view that comes out of saintly romantic battling figures in the
medieval times that they were--that God had made them
immune to physical danger, and that if somebody fired in
the seventeenth century a bullet at such a person that they could
catch the bullet, as if Superman or some
ridiculous video thing, catch them in their teeth.
But part of this is the popular appeal of this man who was full
of famous things that he said. But he never intended it as
witticisms; the man had virtually no sense
of humor. He's a cynic but a very smart
man. But he's probably best
remembered for saying, "how can you possibly run a
country"--I don't think he used the word rule,
that would've been a mistake, that would've been lapsing to
the royal we, which he used constantly--"How
can you run a country that has 268 different kinds of cheese?
It's all so complex." In fact, there are many more
than 268 kinds of cheese; there's probably 268 different
kinds of picodons, which are small goats' cheeses
produced in the southeast of France and in other places.
But what organized all this stuff together in his thinking
is that France cannot be France without grandeur,
without grandeur. So, one of the compelling
aspects of his existence was that how you keep a power,
that is no longer really a great power, in a world that had
been divided among two great powers,
how you keep a diminished great power a great power,
how do you do that? So, there were two ways,
very vehemently anti-communist through the whole thing,
but more realistic than the Americans, always more realistic
than the Americans--and this we'll tie together in a minute.
Two ways: one is that you maintain this forceful
independence vis-à-vis the Americans and the Soviets.
The clash of these two civilizations,
both with their monumental exaggerations and both with
their monumental problems; the Americans' problems less
bloody than the traditions in the Soviet Union--how do you do
that? So, you become independent,
you leave NATO, you throw the Americans out;
thus these huge airbases that were once full of American
planes, full of American Air Force people and soldiers in
Chateauroux and all these places--I mentioned this
before--now empty, just big parking lots
essentially. You can still see them all over
the place. Or Lyon, there's another good
one. You're independent,
and you insist on having the force de frappe,
force, like force, and then de,
d-e, and then frappe, f-r-a-p-p-e;
and frappe, it sounds like something that's
served at Coffee Too or Starbucks, but it is the nuclear
capacity. And, so, France is going to be
independent, it's going to have nuclear capacity.
The Americans had the atomic bomb, the Soviet Union had the
atomic bomb. The Americans had used an
atomic bomb. The Israelis probably did not
yet have the atomic bomb but soon would, and India would
later and the Pakistanis and as you know the Chinese,
as well. So, that leads to point number
two, that is by being independent and by being French,
that you maintain your influence in places even as they
are being decolonized--places like Mali,
for example, or Senegal, or ex-Zaire,
the Congo, which was the awful Leopold's private territory
before the Belgian parliament took it over at the end of the
nineteenth century, the beginning of the twentieth
century, because of just the massacres, the slaughter of
local people by sort of Belgian mercenary types,
and all of this; that these places,
that even after Algeria, and before that Morocco and
Tunisia, become independent that the
influence of la belle France in places like Vietnam,
after the French leave, because of French civilization,
the civilizing mission, the French language-- Lebanon,
another very good example, French influence in Lebanon,
terribly, terribly important. And that this kind of
influence, a cultural influence and a political influence of
being an honest broker between these two big colossal powers
will help accentuate France's existence as a great power,
continued to exist as a great power.
But there was a contradiction there because France was no
longer a great power, but wanted to be a great power.
And, so, that was essential in the way that de Gaulle viewed
France's role and personally his role;
that France would maintain its influence in what they called in
those days the Third World, tiers monde,
that were--had just been freed from the colonial imperial
experience but were economically disadvantaged.
And that France's historical mission of carrying
civilization, French civilization,
the civilizing mission, et cetera, et cetera,
would continue in that context. Now, you even saw this very
recently in the case of the Bulgarian nurses who had been in
Libya accused of--it's a terribly complicated case--of
infecting Libyan children with HIV,
and who had been condemned to death and had been in prison for
I don't remember how long. And one of the first things
that Sarkozy does is he sends his wife, who's no longer his
wife, to Libya to use the influence,
that old French influence, in the Middle East to obtain
the release of these Bulgarian nurses.
And indeed they were able to pull that off.
I think one of the nurses was Palestinian but I think the
other ones were Bulgarian, I'm sure they were Bulgarian;
I'm not sure about the Palestinian but I think so.
And it works. But this is an idea that we can
be there, we can intervene in these cases and get things
happened because of that. And no one--if you travel in
Africa and in Francophone countries, nobody should have
any illusion about the continued influence of France in these
places; and it is very,
very important, and this is something that de
Gaulle believed very much. He feared the domination of
Europe and France by Britain and the United States,
using NATO as a tool. And, so, you can argue now that
Europe, quote/unquote Europe, the European Union,
the European community and all this stuff, that the basis of
this lies certainly in what would've seemed in the 1920s and
the '30s, or for that matter the 1880s
and '90s, a horribly unusual alliance between Germany and
France. And de Gaulle moves in that
direction. And, so, that is a way
of--working against is the wrong term--but sort of circumventing
the kind of domination of the U.S.
and of Britain in all of this. And what he helps do--and this
is very important--is it ends all that animosity between
Germany and France. I can remember going up to the
Normandy beaches, the Norman beaches,
and try waiting in there--imagine all these people
shooting at you on the 6th of June,
1944 when you go to Omaha Beach, or Utah Beach,
or one of these places, and it's full of Americans
going there; it's full of very old Americans
going there, to see where they had lost a lot of friends.
But I remember going there with German plates--this is in the
early 1970s--and still getting stares and insults,
that I could understand perfectly well;
they thought we were German, and we weren't,
we were your age and just kind of traveling around,
and sleeping on beaches, and eating a little,
and drinking some wine along the way,
and all that stuff. But de Gaulle helped put an end
to that, and now if you ask almost anybody,
if you ask one of the Germans going into Strasbourg to buy
foie gras, or all the French going over to
Germany to buy what is slightly cheaper gasoline,
this is an alliance, and a cornerstone of Europe,
particularly given the attitude of the British and all the
anxieties that they have about losing their integrity,
national integrity, of losing the pound and all
that stuff. And, so, de Gaulle helped make
that possible. He never forgot the humiliation
of France having been excluded from the Allied conferences at
Yalta and Potsdam. You've all seen those pictures
of Stalin with Churchill and sometimes Roosevelt as well.
But France was not invited. Both Roosevelt and Churchill
just hated de Gaulle's guts, they hated his arrogance.
And he was not a person who lacked confidence,
and he was not rigolo, he was not a good-time guy.
His own family, by the way, his own family
vous-vous-ed him, his children did.
They didn't use tu they used vous--that's
amazing. And they hated him,
they had contempt for him. And de Gaulle never forgot
those personal humiliations and the humiliations that la
France, great power,
was not invited to participate in essentially the fate of
Europe. And, so, that leads to 1966,
France withdrawing from NATO by forcing it to transfer its
headquarters from Paris to Bruxelles,
to Brussels, and these army and air force
bases in France were closed; and armed forces radio was
moved away, so it became more difficult to listen to football
games on armed forces radio because you had to get them from
Frankfurt, which is an extraordinarily
minor point. And again he insisted on the
development of an arsenal that was nuclear.
And he angered the U.S. government by refusing to
support the U.S. policies in Vietnam.
And of course the French had already seen how stupid policies
lead to bad results. But the Americans did not see
that, for a very long time, until 70,000 American soldiers
and God-knows how many people in Vietnam died in all of this.
He outraged--and I remember this;
I wasn't in Quebec--but he went to Quebec on a state visit,
and he suddenly blurts out, "long live free Quebec!"
And, so, this caused all sorts of problems.
This was in the late-- it was about 1967, if I remember
correctly. Why free Quebec?
Because Quebec is nouvelle France, and that's where you
had 60,000 French men, women, and children living.
At the time there were 2.5 million English people living in
what was the colonies in the U.S., and a very one-sided war.
But again the idea that if Quebec is free,
if it's independent--my own personal view is it ought to be
independent; ça n'a rien à
voir avec. But it's just my feeling,
but I don't know enough about it to say that's a good idea,
but I have the same kind of cultural feelings that he does
about it. But this is not what you do,
you do not go on a state visit and suddenly announce "long live
Quebec!" Americans, this is the same
thing, if somebody came from, I don't know,
a Serb ambassador or an Italian prime minister suddenly arrives
and says, "long live free New Mexico and
Texas!" or something like that--people
didn't view it very well. But although he was vehemently
anti-communist, he did not want--he saw himself
as again this honest broker in negotiating between these
powers. His legacy were of these
imperatives that he had; they were backed by deeds or at
least attempts to restore the grandeur of France,
its efficient, kind of active independence,
as I guess Stanley Hoffmann called it that once.
And this diverged from other parts of the French Right--Le
Figaro magazine, for example,
which is always just almost comically pro-American on every
issue. The French Right couldn't--what
de Gaulle did is he took the nationalism of Napoleons,
the Napoleons, which was a nationalism
associated with the general liberal Left--the State will do
good things for people--he transforms that in the evolution
that you see in the Third Republic,
the nationalism, moving to the nationalism of
the Right, into the equivalent of the Sacred Union of World War
One, into a nationalism,
fundamentally a nationalism of the Right in France.
And part of that, to make a long story short,
as you already have seen, is based upon his
anti-communism. But at the same time you have
all this business about grandeur and glory, et cetera,
et cetera--grandeur more than glory;
but inattention to--even at the end of what's called the
glorious thirty years, the French economy takes off,
that you've read about--inattention to how you
modernize France, how you make it more
economically competitive, and what do you do about the
education system, the university system in
particular? And that would come crashing
down on his head in 1968. So, his deeds,
his legacy in--I've already said I think what there is to
say about the practical consequences of his legacy.
But he did, France's influence did remain, has remained in the
world, which I think is a very good thing.
But the most, the greatest legacy that he
left is probably his style, that of the monarchical
president, the monarchial president,
the king of the republic, the idea that he represented
France in a way that the Sun King had represented France,
towering over France, and that overriding the
interests of those he considered to be talkers,
mere posers or talkers, including technocrats,
the kinds of people who had emerged in part out of World War
Two and out of the Fourth Republic.
And, so, he left unsolved the question of how you educate
France for a new society, how you train and modernize
people. What do you do with the
poisonous relations between a very powerful patronat,
that is employers, and a working class that in the
1960s was still extremely influenced by the CGT,
the Confédération Général du
Travail, and by the Communist Party?
So, there were contradictions in all of this,
the idea that France is a great power when France still--France
wasn't yet a great power. The idea that France can be
independent and therefore maintain itself as a great power
by intervening, in terms of its cultural
influence, its political influence in the Third World and
that sort of thing. And the reality,
when push came to shove, that there were two great
powers. So, it kind of,
the contradictions are there. He said over and over again
that he was not of the Left nor of the Right;
he was above the Left or the Right--he used the "above" word,
the word "above" all the time. He said "je suis un homme de
la guerre de quatorze/dix-huit"--I'm a
man of the War of 1914-1918; he was wounded on Belgian
Bridge in Dinant, as I said the other day.
And that was the Sacred Union, when in the interests of France
these quarreling fragments would give up their quarrels with each
other and would rally around big France--that France's historical
mission was so especially said on the 11th of December,
1969, "I don't want to repose, I don't want to even triumph,
I want to bring people together."
He saw his own party as being above these.
He said that the parties--in 1965--he said parties are
organizations constituted to show off particular tendencies
and to support the interests of such and such categories of
people, or interests,
or desires, and all this stuff, time and time again.
But he wasn't just someone who was going to pronounce
foolishly, revert to the same eventually tired phrases,
he was somebody who believed that he could pay particular
attention to circumstances. In this he was rather like
Bismarck, and saw himself in that way, I think it's possible
to argue. In this maybe he saw himself a
little bit, though I hate to make the comparison,
but maybe with Henry Kissinger a little bit too,
in the old days. But one of the results of the
way he viewed France is that he didn't really give a damn about
the existence of ordinary people.
He once said that--he said this literally--"steak
frites," that is steak with French fries,
"is okay, it's fine, but it does not add up to
national ambition"; that's an exact quote.
And the business of how do you bring together,
how do you retain the importance of a people with 268
kinds of cheese, was a part of all of that.
And, so, his style was more original than his doctrine.
Take the press conference--he used to have press conferences.
American presidents often have press conferences,
though the current one really doesn't because the questions
get too difficult to handle. But de Gaulle wasn't one for
press conferences, he hated them,
he couldn't stand them. But the press conferences in
the old day were orchestrated, they were appearances.
They were not a rock concert appearance, but they were
appearances nonetheless, in which the questions had been
planted. It was rather like FEMA,
whatever they called it--did an amazing thing just a couple of
weeks in California, they planted--the people in the
room weren't reporters they were FEMA employees,
and they presented it as a press conference where one guy
raised his hand and he said, "why is FEMA doing such a
remarkable job this time around?"
And then the guy says, "well, I think we're very doing
well, thank you for saying that."
It turned out that he was an employee of FEMA and there
weren't real journalists there. But de Gaulle would do the same
thing except he would do it with real journalists;
he wouldn't do it with Helen Thomas, who was a wonderful
person. I once had her as a guest at
the tea in Branford; she was always able to ask the
first question--I don't think this is the case
anymore--because she was the senior person.
But you had real journalists, but they were told what
questions to ask, and then he would say--he would
give the same kinds of responses that I just said--"steak-frites
do not end up with national ambition."
At the time of the Algerian War somebody forgot to ask a
question about Ben Bella. So, he said--he suddenly looks
up and says, "did I hear somebody ask a question about
Ben Bella?" And then he gives the response,
but he turns and reads a response that had already been
written for him, and sometimes by him.
And, so, it was the kind of style.
So, appearances were important, the idea that somehow this
mystical body was connected in a real way to all of you,
by national glory. And when he would go to any
town, and he liked doing that, he would go and he would say,
"as I stand in the shadow of your magnificent cathedral," or
"next to your smiling river"--French rivers are always
described as smiling, even if they're polluted,
by politicians. "I am thinking of you,
and seeing you here, here to welcome me,
your hearts beating just as mine for France and its grandeur
and its civilization, I am reminded that"--and then
he launches into his two or three minute bit.
And then he is in the big limousine and out of
Lussac-les-Deux-Eglises or wherever it is.
And it all was like that, where style increasingly
overwhelmed substance, and in a man who was extremely
elderly, but by no means,
by no means senile, not one bit,
and who could still treat with contempt anybody who came and
told him something he didn't want to hear--but could be
charming as well--the stage was set for his departure,
as time moved on. And that would swirl around the
events of 1968, la revolution
manquée, the revolution that didn't
really happen in France and involved an awful lot of people
of your age. And it's to that,
after I hope a glorious weekend, that I will return on
Monday.