The
presidential election is over, and the result has been exactly what
was expected : the "socialist"candidate
won over the incumbent Nicolas Sarkozy, even if by a relatively small
margin. All elections, however, have their share of surprises, and
this one was no exception, since the far-right leader Marine Le Pen
scored nearly 18%, better than her father in 2002 when he shocked the
world by reaching the second round. This is by no way an isolated
phenomenon. The very same Sunday Hollande was elected, the Greeks
sent to their parliament 21 activists from the Golden Dawn, a fringe
far-right party, complete with a svatiska-like symbol and roman
salutes. Add to that Hungary, whose constitution the right wing
government has recently changed in a decidedly authoritarian
direction and the 17% scored in the Netherlands by Geert Wilders’
Party for Freedom, and it becomes obvious Europe has a far right
problem.
Marine
Le Pen’s National Front is no newcomer in French politics. It was
founded in 1972 by Jean-Marie Le Pen to unify the then marginal
French far right. The Far right has a long history in France and was
at time a significant force. The nationalist leagues nearly seized
power in 1934 when a corruption scandal, the Stavisky case,
degenerated into riots. They had, of course, their moment in the sun
when Hitler’s panzers crashed through the Bulge and allowed them to
rule a rump French State from Vichy. The collapse of Nazi Germany
dealt them a crushing blow, however, as their leaders were killed in
action, shot for treason or forced to run for the Spanish border.
The
Algerian war and the confused impotence of the late Fourth Republic
gave the far right a new lease of life. It proved short-lived,
however, as Charles de Gaulle, who had belonged to the monarchist
Action Française but had later joined the moderate right,
seized power through a quasi-coup and abandoned Algeria. The far
right attempted to topple him during the failed Alger coup of 1971
and, for a time, waged a vicious, but ultimately doomed low intensity
terrorist campaign.
When Le
Pen made his 1972 bid, the far right had been reduced to a rag-tag
collection of fringe groups and intellectuals. While he managed,
progressively and with much difficulty, to rally the far right around
himself, Le Pen electoral results were dismal. In the 1974
presidential election he won a mere 0,8% of the national vote and
failed to gather enough support to stand in the 1981 election.
The
breakthrough happened in the 1983 municipal elections, and most
importantly in the Dreux by election, in October of the same year,
when the National Front won 17% of the vote and forced the moderate
right to make a deal with it to stave off defeat. This put the
National Front under the spotlights and paved the way for later
successes, the most important of which was, of course, the much
publicized, 2002 presidential election.
Democratic
parties reacted by establishing a kind of cordon sanitaire around
the National Front. Most of the time it worked. The moderate right,
then dominated by staunchly gaullist Jacques Chirac, did not yield
to the temptation and the 1983 deal was never repeated. It has to be
said, however, that Le Pen himself did not want to take part to a
coalition government. He was fully aware that his party thrived in
radical opposition to the establishment and every time an alliance
with a mainstream party became remotely possible, he spurted
something utterly unfashionable about Jews, the Holocaust or the
German army. This proved quite efficient.
Unfortunately,
his daughter is more interested in ruling than he was, and knows that
her only chance to get into power is by having the moderate right so
soundly defeated that a part of it look to her for support, hardly an
implausible scenario. The leaders of right are very much aware of the
risk and have promised to expel anybody who would dare to strike a
deal with the National Front. This may not be enough, however.
The
problem is the National Front, like most of its Western European
counterparts, is not really fascist. It is xenophobic and
authoritarian, and would make France a very unpleasant place if
allowed to reach power. Should this happen I am of the opinion that
it ought to be overthrown by any mean necessary. Even though the most
lunatic ones have been marginalized or even expelled when Marine Le
Pen was given the leadership of the party, a significant part of its
core membership is fascist, or heavily influenced by fascism. There
is also a sizable number of catholic traditionalists and of
unreconstructed pieds-noirs and even a few eccentrics, who
will talk to you about their Indo-European heritage before walking
away toward the nearest forest.
The
ideology of the National Front, however, is closer to Cesarism –
aka, the man on the white horse – than to bona fide fascism.
For instance, Marine Le Pen, even though her policies would
undoubtedly be highly oppressive and unpleasant, does not plan to
change the constitution in any major way. It is partly due to the
fact that this constitution, even though it has accumulated some
checks and balances over time, has been drafted by another man on
the white horse after what amounted to a military coup, but not only.
Cesarism is perfectly compatible with a constitutional regime, as
generations of Latin-American strongmen have shown.
Cesarism,
in France at least, happens when the political system is faced with
what seems to be an unsolvable contradiction. Napoleon the First had
to reconciliate an unstable regime born from a radical revolution and
a people longing for internal stability. His nephew had to manage the
contradiction between a liberal republic and a deeply conservative
population; Lastly, De Gaulle, a conservative with a monarchist
background, had to solve the contradiction between an impotent
parliamentarian regime and the need for decisive action during the
shedding of an ever more cumbersome colonial empire.
France
was lucky in that its strongmen’s domestic policies have succeeded,
often in sharp contrast with the disastrous results of their foreign
policies. As Napoleon himself stated : "Waterloo
will wipe out the memory of my forty victories; but that which
nothing can wipe out is my Civil Code. That will live forever."
Cesarism can however be an abject failure, especially when the
contradiction it faces is not wholly political in nature.
Thus,
during the last decades of the nineteenth century, the newly
established Third Republic had to contend with the consequences of
the defeat of 1870. To ensure its survival in face of strong
monarchist opposition, the Republic needed the lost provinces of
Alsace – Lorraine back, but lacked the military force to reconquer
them. It was not a political problem. Germany, once united, had a
larger population and resource base than France. Besides, France’s
low birth rate made sure the power gap would only increase with time.
The only way out for the French Republic was to build an alliance
strong enough to match German might – a strategy which ultimately
won WWI, but took time.
A
significant part of the French public opinion wanted their revenge
now, however, and they found their hero in the person of Georges
Ernest Boulanger, a general, who, as a war minister, stood up to
Bismarck during the Schnaebele incident, nearly causing a war France
would certainly have lost. This made him immensely popular and got
him, and a lot of his followers elected. He let the occasion pass,
however, failed to make his move, and his movement collapsed.
Boulanger himself had to flee to Belgium and finally committed
suicide on his lover’s grave. Georges Clémenceau rightly said
about him : He died as he has lived: a second lieutenant.
Had
he lived as a general, however, the results would have been a
unmitigated disaster, at least as far as France is concerned.
Whether
Marine Le Pen will live and die as a second lieutenant remains to be
seen. Her party is still a associated, despite the recent purges,
with the nightmarish regimes of the thirties, and that matters a lot
down here. Besides, cracking down on a significant and growing
minority because it happens to have a different religion, a highly
questionable idea in itself, is unlikely to make you popular in many
areas.
Even
if she gets elected and survive the reaction of those, such as
myself, who think that her very participation to a government is a
good reason to storm the prefecture and set up a committee of public
salvation, she is bound to fail.
The
main problem France faces is the growing impotence of politics.
France, unlike America, has always relied on the State, and therefore
the politicians who control it, to get things done. Yet, after the
election of the socialist François Mitterand in 1981 and the great
wave of reforms he initiated, the State became ever less able to do
anything more than reluctantly go along a progressive but steady
decline or implement purely societal reforms such as civil unions.
The
result has been a general distrust of politicians, an ever lower
turnout during elections and the occasional burst of enthusiasm for
anybody looking like he could actually do something, for instance
Sarkozy in 2007.
The
problem, of course, is that this impotence is neither due to the
nature of the regime – French presidents are quite powerful in
practice – nor to the incompetence of the political class – the
service of the State is a valued occupation in French culture, so our
rulers tend to be highly experienced and educated – but to limits
to complexity and lack of resource.
Like
all countries, France has greatly increased its social complexity
thanks to the exploitation of fossil fuels and industrialization. The
huge surplus thus created has enabled it to feed what would be an
insanely complex society by medieval standards. As Joseph Tainter has
shown, increased complexity is our specie’s preferred way of
solving problems, and at first it is quite efficient. Since it means
creating corps of specialists for every possible task, however, it is
costly. Besides, complexity and specialization is subject to the law
of decreasing returns : at some point, increasing them becomes far
more costly than it is worth and may even become counterproductive.
France, whose strength traditionally lay in its efficient
administration, has manifestly reached this point. The state budget
has been in structural deficit for decades and massive unemployment
has been a fact of life since I was born.
Increasing
the already insanely high level of complexity of our society,, for
instance by investing in the so called knowledge economy will only
worsen the situation, as it will create new structures – public or
corporate, that's not the matter – feeding off a stagnant, or even
shrinking resource pool.
Resource
is the other problem. France was never the richest European country
and its natural resources have been strip mined during the industrial
age. We never had oil, our coal, natural gas and uranium are long
gone – a part of it with Algeria, by the way. We have managed to
keep and expand our wealth by being a, somewhat troublesome, part of
the western imperial system, funneling a large part of the world
resources our way and exploiting our own mini-network of client
republics, which, of course did not keep our rather embarrassing
surplus of bobos from bitching about imperialism.
This
strategy is now failing. We have reached the point where global
energy supply is stagnating. It will soon begin to decrease in
absolute value and has probably already begun to do so if we
consider the net value. The result is a fiercer competition for the
remaining resources, a competition a middling European state with
little projection power is unlikely to win.
Besides,
it seems the people we helped win their independence at Yorktown are
being replaced, as world hegemon, by those whose most magnificent
monument we thoroughly ransacked in an effort to force sell them
opium. The chance of them allowing us to continue with our little
protection racket in Africa are minute.
And
even if they were so inclined... they really need the oil, and the
land, and the uranium, and...
The
end result is that our capacity to bring about collective change
decreases with every passing year – at least the kind of collective
change the French people can accept. It is quite possible to simplify
the French society, but that means accepting, even embracing,
poverty, not something we as a people are likely to do.
Authoritarianism
is therefore bound to fail, and become more and more authoritarian
with time as, unlike democracy, failure is not something it can
accept. Its normal way of dealing with it is not handing power to the
other side, but finding somebody to blame. After all, if it is not
the Great Leader's fault, and it cannot be, it must be some
traitor's, and we all know what to do with traitors.
The
problem is that our newly elected president is also bound to fail.
Democracy is very good at mobilizing its resources in face of a clear
and immediate danger – say, Nazi Germany – but quite bad at
facing a long crisis without any clear solution.
There
is no solution to the crisis we face, and as long as we expect
politics to change things in a constructive way, we are bound to be
disappointed. At some point, this disappointment is likely to lead us
to vote for an extremist who will get (some) things done. (S)he won't
be fascist – fascism as an ideology is discredited – but will use
the same dynamics Boulanger did, and may, by the way, come from the
left; The leader of the Left Front, Jean-Luc Melenchon, is every bit
as dangerous as Le Pen and a Green authoritarianism remains a
distinct possibility.
It
is what happened in Greece with the Golden Dawn and Alexis Tsipras'
Coalition of the Radical Left. Unless we collectively accept the
reality and allow our false dreams to die, it can happen here too.