Published: May 27, 2012
Well, President Obama has met him and I suppose, by this time, you may have caught a glimpse of him, too. I'm referring, of course, to France's new president, Francois Hollande.
On May 18, he and Barack Obama had a chance to meet and get acquainted over lunch at the White House before heading to Camp David for the G8 summit. Socialist President Hollande arrived with a particular message: he is pitching a pro-growth, pro-stimulus package to get faltering economies back on track. Only time will tell if he can make his ideas work.
For now, he is busy proving to the world and to France, to the near 52 percent of voters who chose him and the 48 percent who did not, that he is the right man for the job. So far, so good. Hollande appears energetic and devoted to the French Republic. From candidate, he got down to the business of being president almost overnight. Officially in office since May 15, he has deliberately played down the regal side of the French presidency, where the commander in chief lives more like a king than a citizen. Instead, he has promised to live a "normal" life, rejecting many presidential privileges, presenting himself as the No. 1 public servant of France. Once again, only time will tell if the new president can resist the sense of privilege that comes with inhabiting the gilded halls of Elysee Palace, the official presidential residence, once home to Madame de Pompadour, the "favorite" of King Louis XV, his official lover at the French court.
From my American point of view, Hollande has set his presidency in motion in a hardworking yet low-key way. On May 6, a mere three weeks ago, the man was still a candidate. On that day, like millions of the French, I made my way to my local polling place, a classroom in an elementary school a few steps from my home, to cast my vote in the presidential election. First, I presented my voter registration card and then I picked up an envelope and three squares of pale blue newsprint, one blank and the other two printed with the names of the candidates, the incumbent Nicolas Sarkozy and the Socialist Francois Hollande. From there, I headed to a voting booth, put one paper in the envelope (and I'll let readers guess who I voted for) and crumpled the two others before dropping them in a waste basket placed in easy reach (no problem with hanging chads or computer fraud).
The next step was the most solemn. I approached the "urn," a locked transparent ballot box. Once again I identified myself, demonstrating I had only one envelope in hand. After I slipped it into the box, an observer called out "a vote" (has voted). Then, for the final step, I moved off to the side to sign the register containing the names of those authorized to vote in that particular polling place. On May 6, I was one of the 36,562,072 French women and men, more than 81 percent of registered voters, who observed this ritual.
By eight that evening, the results were in: for the second time in the Fifth Republic, formed in 1958, a Socialist candidate could claim victory. This had not happened since 1981, the year Francois Mitterrand was elected president. That evening, supporters rallied at the Bastille, to sing, shout, dance and drink the night away. A little after midnight, Hollande showed up to thank his electors and reiterate his promise for change. The next morning, bright and early, he was at work, meeting with advisors to begin putting together his new government. The following day, May 8, V-E Day, he was walking up the Champs Elysees in the company of President Sarkozy. Side-by-side, they placed a spray of flowers on the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier beneath the Arc de Triomphe.
One week later, on May 15, the official transfer of powers took place. Observing this process, but also participating as a citizen for the first time since my arrival in France 25 years ago, I had the feeling things were happening too fast. After all, in the United States, a newly elected president has more than two months to get used to the idea before he actually takes the reins of power. He has time to rest after a hard campaign and wrap up one life before beginning another. And Inauguration Day, although not an official holiday for all Americans, has all the ingredients: the solemn swearing-in ceremony on the steps of the Capitol, the parade along Pennsylvania Avenue, the many inaugural balls and banquets, spanning a period of 10 days.
A French friend provided me with one explanation for this hasty transfer of powers. He reminded me that in the days of the monarchy, between the time a deceased king was put in the grave and a new king mounted the throne, the country was ruled by an effigy, a mannequin stuffed with straw made to look like the former king. Obviously, straw men don't have much power and it was important to get a new, flesh-and-blood king on the throne fast. Likewise for a new president. Others, however, believe Hollande has been doing his best to not behave like former president Sarkozy, who, on election night, celebrated with the rich and famous in a very expensive Parisian restaurant and, the next day, continued to celebrate on a rich friend's yacht in the Mediterranean Sea.
Whatever the explanation, Hollande's "Inauguration Day" was all work and no play: lunch at Elysee Palace with former prime ministers and Nobel Prize winners, speeches in the afternoon and then a flight to Berlin (the airplane was struck by lightning - an inauspicious sign?) to meet with Chancellor Angela Merkel to discuss the woes of the European economy. Conspicuously absent from the day's ceremonies were the new president's four children and their mother, his former companion (no, not wife), Segolene Royal, who lost to Nicolas Sarkozy in France's 2007 presidential elections. At his side, was his new companion (no, not wife), Valerie Trierweiler, a journalist.
A mere three weeks after elections, the new government is in place and busily working to bring about change, Hollande's main campaign theme. As for how the French look at elections, inaugurations and the private life of their presidents, their attitudes are very different from ours.
To conclude, I'll just say, "Vive la difference."
(Honicker can be reached at honicker.republican herald@gmail.com)
