A vote of confidence

FRANCE MARC ULLMANN

Paris—On Monday afternoon, shortly after three o'clock, M Alain Poher drove into the forecourt of the Elys6e Palace preceded by the presidential motor-cycle outriders in their blue uniforms with white helmets. A section of the Garde Republicaine provided a guard of hon- our and the band played the salute. Outside, on the pavement on the far side of the rue du Faubourg St Honors, a few score Parisians stood and watched. Some of them were weep- ing.

Why? Not, I think, in sorrow for the de- parted head of state, nor, certainly, in admira- tion for the caretaker President who had just arrived. No, these were tears of pure emotion, almost of pride, at the tangible symbol of the continuity of the Republic to which they were the witnesses—a continuity which is so passionately desired by the mass of the French electorate.

For last Sunday's vote was not a revolt. Rather it was the manifestation of a reasoned calculation that the time had come for a change in the orientation of public affairs. Since the 'events' of last May, and still more since the November financial crisis, General de Gaulle was widely felt to have lost his touch. He talked of 'the sickness of the soul,' and claimed to have found a sovereign remedy obscurely labelled 'participation.' But the average citizen was more prosaically concerned about the francs in his pocket. He reckoned the real problem was the state of the economy.

The floating voters who decided the issue last Sunday wanted order. But it was the order of the purse, and not the order of grandeur, which interested them. The General, with his ambitions, his dreams, that famous 'certaine idee' he had of France, had become the re- verse of an element of order. He seemed to stand for adventure. So he had to go—always providing, of course, that he went without turmoil.

So it could be said—and for myself I would not hesitate to say it—that Sunday's vote was a vote of confidence. Confidence in the General's promise to quit if his reforms were rejected, and to depart with dignity. Confidence in the willingness of the political parties to observe the rules of the constitution. Confi- dence in the willingness of the electorate to assume its political responsibilities seriously, and, when choosing a president, to prefer the ballot-box to the barricades.

It was a gamble. But already, before Sunday was out, it seemed to have come off. As the polling-booths were closing the television was showing an old Laurel and Hardy film, and there was not a single report of trouble from anywhere in France. By nine o'clock, when it was obvious that the General had lost, there was still no news of processions or demonstra- tions from the provinces; in Paris 500 students of the extreme left (Maoists, Trotskyites or anarchists) paraded in the Latin Quarter, while a roughly equivalent number of young people of the extreme right, who are unable to forgive the General for putting an end to the colonial era, demonstrated their satisfaction rather noisily on the Champs Elysees. That was all. Not much for a city of six million inhabitants.

Strangely enough, the average elector proved a better judge of the situation than his political leaders, who still seemed hypnotised by the in- heritance of the General or by their fears of responsibility. At eleven o'clock on Sunday night the Prime Minister, loyally accepting the verdict of the polls, nevertheless felt it necessary to warn of 'a period of difficulties, maybe even a period of troubles.' At the offices of the Com- munist daily, Humanize, victory toasts were being drunk in bourgeois glasses of whisky and champagne. But the party bosses feared 'a fascist coup,' and requested the handful of people who had gathered outside in the street to sing the Internationale to shut up 'in order to avoid any danger of provocation.' And straight away the lumbering party machine was set in motion to ensure that the traditional demonstrations to mark May Day should pass off peacefully. Instead of gathering a million workers for the grand march past, the aim was to be to keep the numbers down to 300,000. Twenty-four hours later the party went a stage further still. It decided to cancel the march past altogether.

Worthy precautions, without a doubt. But quite superfluous. For however much the stu- dents of the Latin Quarter might have tried to stir things up, it is hard to see why the Gaullists should bother to respond. They have their champion already, and he is worth his weight in gold.

M Georges Pompidou spent Monday at his office in the boulevard de la Tour Maubourg, a quiet street on the Left Bank. No word of his intentions was forthcoming. But Tuesday morn- ing he published the expected communique. Fifty-five words long, it was summed up in 3 single phrase. '1 have decided to offer myself for the votes of the people of France.' It might be thought surprising that M Pompidou did not await the meeting of the executive com- mittee of the Gaullist parliamentary group that evening. The official explanation was that, true to the masters traditions, be. did not intend

to be beholden to a political party. The reality was that he wanted to short-circuit any intri- gues. There was always the danger that some of his colleagues, out of loyalty to the departed, might have tried to launch a Couve de Mur- Nille candidature, and thus split the party wide open. For those who enjoy the General's confidence make no secret of the fact that he has taken a strong dislike to his former Prime Minister.

This is surprising, no doubt, for he has been the architect of M Pompidou's career. Yet it is not uncommon Mr the boss of a company to discover that his favourite son is not, after all, the man he took him to be. Even so, it is almost inconceivable that at this late hour de Gaulle would try to devise a blocking cabal against M Pompidou. For one thing the former head of state has too elevated an opinion of his own position to sink to such manoeuvres. And for another they wouldn't succeed.

The spoils of office still make the best cement. If the Gaullist parliamentary majority breaks up, it will automatically forfeit power. But if it holds together, it has every reason for confi- dence in its ability to stay in government. And solidarity, for the Gaullists, quite simply means Pompidou. First, because he has already announced his candidature; and second, be- cause, according to the latest public opinion polls, 43 per cent of the electorate reckon he would make a good President.

Admittedly, 43 per cent is not a majority. But to beat M Pompidou the opposition would still need to be united. One man is now trying to achieve this: M Gaston Defferre, President of the Socialist group in the National Assembly.

Once before, on the eve of the 1965 presi- dential elections, M Defferre had tried to create a centre-left union; but he failed, and M Jean Lecanuet stood in the name of the centre and M Francois Mitterand in the name of the left.

He may well fail again, but this time he has a stronger hand to play: his party has decided to put up a candidate and M Defferre, who makes no secret of the fact that if elected Presi- dent he would appoint M Pierre Mendes-. France Prime Minister, seems the man best placed to attract the greatest number of votes.

For the opposition parties the fundamental choice they now have to make is whether to go into the presidential election battle in the hope of winning, or whether the different political parties, fossilised in their ancient quarrels, would find it more comfortable to play M Pompidou's game than to unite.

The odds seem well balanced. but for the first time the forces in favour of unity might have the edge. Now that the personality of General de Gaulle no longer dominates French political life, the election of the President of the Republic by popular vote has its own dynamic, whose principal characteristic is that it makes the old system of combinations and deals seem ridiculous. Any party which put up a frivolous candidate in the hope, not of getting him elec- ted, but of selling his votes in the second round to the highest bidder, would be discredited. In short, the average Frenchman intends to make his choice between people fit to hold the supreme office.

For this reason, within the space of forty- eight hours, two would-be deals have already foundered. The first was the work of M Valery Giscard d'Estaing. This former Finance Minis- ter of General de Gaulle is determined that one day he will become President of the Republic. But for the present, at the age of forty-three, he believes that his hour has not yet come. So he tried to find a transitional candidate in the per- son of M Antoine Pinay. On paper, this seemed an excellent idea. M Pinay still enjoys a repu- tation as the saviour of the franc—and, in the present circumstances, this is not an unhelpful reputation to have. And as he is seventy-seven years old M Giscard d'Estaing would have been able to assume the role of his dauphin. This brilliant calculation overlooked only one thing —but that was absolutely crucial : the French people did not send de Gaulle back to Colombey in order to elect a man almost as old as he is. Everybody is agreed about this. So much so that, unless there is a full-scale panic about the franc, the candidature of M Pinay is ruled out.

The second would-be deal was the bright idea of M Guy Mollet, Secretary General of the Socialist party. M Mollet would be very happy to see the election of a centre candidate. such as M Alain Poher. But since the Socialist party is not prepared to support M Poher in the

first round, he needed to find, first, an excep- tionally weak Socialist candidate—in other words, someone who, in the first round of the presidential elections, could be counted on not to get more votes than M Poher. In order to ensure this happy result, M Mollet had to make quite certain that the communist voters didn't.support the Socialist candidate, which meant choosing a candidate manifestly unac- ceptable to them. So the name of M Christian Pineau, Foreign Minister at the time of Suez, was put forward. Alas, for M Mollet. As soon as M Defferre made it known that he himself was prepared to stand, M Mollet's house of cards collapsed.

It is true that M Mollet has more than one string to his bow and that a long-standing hatred burns between him and MM Defferre and Mendes-France. He can therefore be guaran- teed to do everything in his power to try to pre- vent these two men from carrying the banner of the opposition. This will not be easy for him, but it might come about. The Communist party is itself unhappy about the Defferre candida- ture, which it would support only if all the other possibilities were ruled out. And for the moment the Communist party has still to decide its tac- tics and has not yet made up its mind whether or not to run a candidate of its own.

All in all, the outlook is still uncertain. The possibility at least exists that the race to the Elysee will be run between well-known and bone fide candidates, any of whom it is genuinely possible to imagine as President of the Republic. And this means, too, that the race is still an open one and that, therefore, France's future policies cannot yet be forecast, at least in detail.

This is particularly true as far as foreign policy is concerned. M Defferre (or, if things turn out differently, M Poher, M Pinay or any other centre candidate) will come out openly in favour of an integrated Europe which includes Great Britain. As for M Pompidou, he is stand- ing as the candidate of continuity. But there is continuity and continuity. The majority of those who know him well believe that he is enough of a realist to know that France is a middle-sized, European power and not a, great power. Without explicitly repudiating Gaullist