on the French political system, and maybe bonobos
I’ve always had an interest in France, its history and its literature, having done a BA in French language and literature, decades ago, for some reason. Stendhal and Beauvoir are a couple of my heroes. I even stayed in Paris for a week a few years back – bien exotique pour moi. But whenever I read about French politics, I just felt confused. They have a President and a Prime Minister, but which, if any has seniority? Have any of them been female? I knew that, in spite of a prominent female intelligentsia, France has had a reputation as a rather chauvinist nation, but I’ve never made much effort to dig deeper.
So, as I’m just finishing off Cecil Jenkins’ A brief history of France, which, being brief, hasn’t managed to unconfuse me, I’m going to use this post to educate myself a bit more, while keeping bonobos – that’s to say dominant women – in mind, wherever I can find them.
France is currently experiencing its Fifth Republic, constituted in 1958 under then President Charles de Gaulle. The Constitution of 1958 still operates, apparently. From Wikipedia,
The constitution provides for a separation of powers and proclaims France’s “attachment to the Rights of Man [sic] and the principles of National Sovereignty as defined by the Declaration of 1789”.
Whenever I think of the ‘Rights of Man’ and 1789 I think of honorary bonobo, Olympe de Gouges, playwright, political activist, humanist and author of the Declaration of the Rights of Woman and the Female Citizen, whose moderate opposition to Robespierre and the radicals led to her execution during the Reign of Terror.
The first thing I should say about the current French political system is that it seems brain-befuddlingly complex to me. Cutting to the chase, the President has, these days, a considerably more powerful position than the Prime Minister, whom he’s responsible for appointing. There has of course never been a female President, hardly surprising for a nation that didn’t even allow women to vote until after the Second World War. At least there have been a couple of female Prime Ministers, Edith Cresson (1991-2) and Elisabeth Borne (2023-Jan 2024), neither of whom managed to last a year.
French state politics seems based on a key, controversial concept – dirigisme. Often associated with de Gaulle’s post-war government, and the ‘Trente Glorieuses’, a thirty-year period of largely state-managed growth following WW2, dirigisme is an odd amalgam of authoritarianism and something like socialism, which has seen France benefit from some of the most generous health and welfare benefits in the world. I can well remember my shock when riots broke out last year because of a proposed raising of the pensionable age by the Macron/Borne government, from 62 to 64 (the original plan was to raise it to 65). I found it hard to believe that any wealthy, healthy nation could maintain such a low pension age. In Australia, the age is now 67, and rising. It should also be noted that, according to the New York Times:
Macron sought to gradually raise the legal age when workers can start collecting a pension by three months every year until it reaches 64 in 2030 (!).
Such generosity seems scarcely credible to other WEIRD world countries, surely, remembering that increased longevity means many pension payouts for upwards of 30 years. They do have some kind of pay-as-you-earn scheme, but it doesn’t seem to be as comprehensive as Australia’s superannuation system.
So, Presidential elections are held every five years (reduced from seven in 2000!), and Emmanuel Macron won the last election in 2022, defeating the less than bonoboesque Marine Le Pen in a run-off second vote. So Macron will have been Prez for ten years at the end of his term, which seems a bit much.
So the run-off system clicks in when no candidate gets a majority – 50%+ – in the first round, which will be commonplace when there’s a large field and a diversity of public views/ideologies out there. My own personal view is that the two or three candidates with the most votes should get together and form a collaborative governmental team, but that’s no doubt way too idealistic. However, bonobos come close to managing it, according to Wikipedia:
At the top of the hierarchy is a coalition of high-ranking females and males typically headed by an old, experienced matriarch who acts as the decision-maker and leader of the group.
Ah, if we could only achieve the emotional maturity of bonobos, what a wonderful world it would be.
So the Presidential elections in France don’t involve anything so pesky as an Electoral College, and they don’t pit one I-alone-can-fix-it guy against another, instead they have any number of I-alone-can-fix-it guys, but someone has to get that 50%. And then there’s the legislative election, the last of which was held in June 2022, shortly after the Presidential election, and that’s the way it has been since 2000 – in other words they’re also held every five years, and candidates are elected as députés to the National Assembly, the Parliament’s lower house. There are no less than 577 of them, including eleven who represent, surely rather vaguely, the ‘French overseas’. This presumably multi-party crowd makes for interesting decision-making, or not. And finally there’s the upper house, the Senate (at least it’s not the House of Lords, which should’ve been killed off by now – how many female lords are there?), which consists of 377 six-year term senators. I would say ‘don’t ask’, but I suppose these long terms at least reduce the cost of more regular elections. I just wonder how this rabble of almost a thousand politicians ever gets things done. Then again I’m in favour of more collaborative government, with lots of involvement, so I should be careful what I ask for…
So who/what are the main French parties? Australia has the Liberals (actually conservatives), the Nationals (rather more conservative, and in coalition, sometimes fractious, with the Libs), the Labor party (generally centre-left, and currently in government), the Greens (further left), and a semi-connected group of independents, with a large proportion of women. Currently, 44.5% of Australian federal parliamentarians are women. In France, the percentage as at 2017 – I can’t find more recent figures – was 38.8%.
The French parties are a little more numerous – on the more or less extreme right is Marine le Pen’s National Rally (Rassemblement National), then there’s the more centre-right Les Republicains, and in the centre is Macron’s party, Renaissance (formerly La Republique en Marche!). On the centre left is the Parti Socialist, with La France Insoumise (rebellious France) on the radical and greener side. In the last elections, the ‘old guard’ leftist and rightist parties, i.e the Republicans and the Socialists, performed very poorly,
Pretty straightforward, but I’m trying to work out how it all comes together, particularly relating to the President (currently Macron), the Prime Minister (Gabriel Attal) and the president of the National Assembly (Yaël Braun-Pivet, the first woman to hold the position) and their respective powers. In Australia, there’s no President, and the Prime Minister leads the lower house as the head of government, though there’s a Speaker, chosen from among the governing party MPs, who keeps order in the house (and maybe that’s the role of the National Assembly prez). Anyway, the role of the French PM is nothing like that of our PM, in that he (Gabriel is male) is appointed by the President and ‘is the person who controls the government of France day-to-day’ (Wikipedia), presumably leaving the President to hob-nob with other world leaders and promote the country overseas.
So it sounds like the French President, like the US President, doesn’t have to lower himself by sitting in the parliament, suffering the slings and arrows of outrageous opposition members and back-benchers. And he gets to dump his PM, it seems, whereas our PM can only be dumped by a full party vote.
Anyway, that’s enough of this sujet for now – I’m sure I haven’t fully worked it out but it’s been fun trying… and I’ve note an occasional ‘first female’ along the way. Vive les bonobos en humaine – it may take a thousand years, but it will happen.
References
Cecil Jenkins, A brief history of France, 2011
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Olympe_de_Gouges
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Politics_of_France
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dirigisme
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/2022_French_presidential_election
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