” The king is dead, long live the king ! This traditional formula that was pronounced at the time of the death of sovereigns is the concentrated expression of what is also customary to call “the two bodies of the king”. Of course, the earthly—and therefore mortal—body of the king disappeared; that is why they cried “the king is dead.” But his other body, his body politic—that of the eternal kingdom—survived him; that is why they shouted “long live the king”.
It is often said that France is a republican monarchy. A bit like in the two bodies of the king, we saw during this presidential campaign two Frances express themselves. Two often irreconcilable Frances who look at each other like faience dogs. Two Frances that revealed themselves in two very different campaigns, which polarized distinct audiences on radically opposed themes.
As we know, President Macron entered the campaign at the last minute, almost backwards. A caricature of Chapatte in the newspaper The world illustrated it perfectly. We see Macron on the phone on a stage, turning his back on the crowd and declaring: “Vladimir, I am finishing a chore here. And I remember you! The case was therefore wrapped up at a run in two meetings, a debate and a dozen television interviews.
Clever and talkative as always, the master of communication has brought in his audience from the big cities, that of France, which is doing well. Without forgetting to “go into contact”, these micro-sidewalks which often arouse hostility towards him. A perfectly run-in machine, Emmanuel Macron knows exactly when to turn right or left. A bit like this mandate started on the left and ended on the right. Without forgetting this campaign between the two towers on the left. Very smart one who could indicate the direction of the next mandate.
The machine was well oiled, but the failures quickly appeared. How to explain this microscopic mobilization in Marseille, the second city of France? The question will not even be asked. And what about this hysterical North African entrepreneur who started screaming at the start of the meeting: “All those who vote for the National Front, you are racists! “Words which, addressing 45% of the French population, could have ruined everything. It was time for the campaign to end.
Opposite, Marine Le Pen made a campaign à la Chirac. In 1995, given the loser, the old road had raked deep France, leaving the front of the stage to his opponent on the right, Édouard Balladur, to finally overtake him on arrival. There ” run of milk”, as we would say back home. Marine Le Pen was also the first to feel the concern of the French about purchasing power.
In its assemblies, held in medium or small towns, there are no great stylistic pirouettes, no sleeve effects. Just a woman who expresses the exasperation of France which loses, with simple and often awkward words. This France which fears immigration because, in addition to mass unemployment, it experiences daily competition on the job market and downward pressure on wages. This France which, far from the big globalized metropolises, is keen on its bistros which are closing by the hundreds. This France which does not gargle with English words and which sees its schools and hospitals decrepit when they were admired by the whole world not so long ago. This France which, caught in a vice between the omnipresence of an increasingly ostentatious Islam and the cultural pressure of American globalization, lives in its heart this “cultural insecurity” of which the late Laurent Bouvet spoke brilliantly.
Emmanuel Macron’s campaign appeared in this presidential election as pure mechanics. Inflated with European technocratic hubris, his program was calculated to the nearest millimeter to seek out each segment of his electorate one after the other. Always efficient and argued to excess, the president has rarely touched the deep fiber of the French.
On the contrary, the France of Marine Le Pen is a torn heart that limps and sputters. His campaign was in this image. The demographer Christophe Guilly is in the habit of saying that the Rassemblement national has never chosen to represent the losers of globalization: it is this population which, let go by the left and feeling its identity threatened, threw itself on this left. Hence this wobbly program, often excessive and rough-hewn, which has not been passed through the filter of the consulting firms that Emmanuel Macron frequents.
Thursday, during the debate, these two France were face to face. On the one hand, that of these elites who see no other future for their country than in Europe. On the other, that of these weakened populations who know no other protective shield than their nation. Better than all the arguments, this courteous debate of almost three hours will at least have had the merit of blowing up the balloon of “extreme right” France in a few minutes. In the eyes of those who profess this nonsense, we feel that they themselves no longer believe in it.
Had this campaign only served to deflate this myth of a racist France on the brink of fascism, it would not have been useless. Still, as for the two bodies of the king, it will be necessary one day to find a way to reconcile this country.