Every morning since September 2014, Richard Werly talks about France in the pages of the Swiss newspaper The weather. This seasoned journalist travels the country in search of the right tone to describe this strange people to his readers, on the other side of the Alps. From the surprise election of 2017 to the pandemic, passing by the revolt of the yellow vests, he lived as closely as possible the eventful five-year term of Emmanuel Macron and now follows this presidential campaign paralyzed by the war in Ukraine.
Before this election, the Franco-Swiss correspondent traveled in space and time, along the demarcation line which cut France in two during the Second World War. Richard Werly draws a fascinating story from it, France against itself (published March 23 by Grasset), in which he explores the France of 2022 mirroring that of 1940. L’Express met him between two political meetings, a few days before the first round on April 10.
L’Express: You are covering your fourth French presidential campaign for The weather. How to define that of 2022?
Richard Werley: What strikes me is the disappearance of programs. Admittedly, the candidates have them, a certain number of press organs compare them and quantify them, but in the report or in my interviews, nobody talks to me about it.
More than ever, this campaign is a battle of personalities and postures, and this is new: in 2007, everyone retains “work more to earn more”, in 2012 the “normal president”, in 2017 the “start- up-nation”. These are not programs, but at least intuitions. Today, apart from Eric Zemmour’s incantations on immigration, no key formula prevails.
The media hurricane of the war in Ukraine has completely diverted the attention of the broadcast media from the life of the countryside. This conflict also gives the French the impression that, this time, it will be impossible to govern otherwise: energy prices will be a colossal constraint, European geopolitics will be extremely restrictive, etc. When he listens to those who promise alternative policies, the average Frenchman tells himself that it will not be possible, that the circumstances will not allow it. A wall of geopolitical realism has settled in France. It therefore remains to vote according to personal affinity: we vote because one is nice, because the other is known, because the third has reinvented itself well…
The five-year term has been marked by crises, between the yellow vests and the pandemic, now the war in Ukraine. Wasn’t it precisely the time to have a great social debate?
We are in a contradiction: the French people I meet seem to want a debate on the future of France, on French society… But most of them have understood that the debate does not lead to much since the day after the election, the reality will be such that there will be no choice. It’s a problem.
Beyond the much-talked-about French anger, there is a real tension linked to the fact that this moment of debate and exchanges that constitutes the presidential election is killed by circumstances and by the budgetary reality. Public spending anesthetizes the economic debate: the “whatever it takes” of the pandemic means that candidates can promise anything and everything with public spending, and it passes. Reality has shown that we could spend more. On the other side, there are those, like Valérie Pécresse, who try to say “but you are crazy!” No one believes them anymore, since the State has opened the floodgates without counting. Someone in their right mind who arrived in this country, like a Swiss, would say: “But you are crazy! Money does not fall from the sky and you cannot sign checks all the time without consequences, it is not possible .”
Despite this gloomy campaign, are your Swiss readers interested in France?
This campaign fascinates the Swiss and the other neighbors of France. Abroad, everyone has understood that the fate of Europe, in the context of the war in Ukraine, largely depends on France. There are not thirty-six countries that can weigh heavily, and if France were presided over by a notorious Poutinian… Foreign readers have understood that behind this French presidential election, it is the future of Europe that takes shape.
The French political spectacle, think what you want, remains quite flamboyant in terms of casting: the super good student XXL Macron; the tribune Mélenchon; the reinvention of Marine Le Pen as a mother; the programmed failure of Valérie Pécresse killed by Nicolas Sarkozy, with this Greek tragedy within the party; Jean Lassalle… Seen from the outside, it’s not bad, not to mention Eric Zemmour.
And finally, there is a real element of surprise, the electoral accident can happen. This little element of suspense makes things interesting, whereas a month and a half ago, Macron’s victory was already on everyone’s mind.
You traveled the country from East to West, along the 1940 demarcation line, for your book France against itself. What state are the French in?
My impression and my conviction are that the number of reasonable French people in this country is much greater than you might think. Many are frustrated, many are angry, but ultimately people live well. I do not believe that France would be an aggregate of sans-culottes ready for anything. Who would have thought that the Great Debate, in 2019, would calm the anger of the yellow vests? Emmanuel Macron succeeded because, basically, the French want to be listened to.
France is an extraordinary country, a little weird, where the debate is seen as the solution. In Switzerland, Germany or England, we like solutions. In France, we like debate. And if the debate is well conducted, we tend to think that this is the solution.
The base sauce of the yellow vests, which is present in my book, went from anger to weariness. I don’t know if these people are ready to take to the streets again, and I don’t see that as a good thing. We must not forget that the yellow vests have paid dearly for their commitment: in terms of police violence, reputation also when they return home, and social with a country that has become chaotic. Mobilizing anger has diminished in intensity to become cerebral: the French are cerebrally angry. The whole issue of this election is to see if this cerebral anger will prevail over reason.
Can this France put the far right in power?
In Switzerland, the extreme right has been in Parliament and in government since the early 2000s, with very ‘Zemourrian’ ideas concerning immigrants, the vote to ban minarets, etc. Admittedly, they have acquired a predominant influence on public debate in many areas, including against the European Union, and contaminated the elites to a certain extent. But at no time have they dominated public life, and their scores are leveling off.
I think France is moving towards that, but with the difficulty of its presidential system. There is a good 30% of the French population who recognize themselves in Le Pen’s theses, without necessarily wanting to elect him. They want this approach to politics to be present in the public debate, but France does not have proportional representation. So the only way for these French people to tell the political elite that immigration, identity or sovereignty speaks to them is to shake the coconut tree at the time of the presidential election.
In your book, your encounters lead you to qualify the thesis of the “French archipelago” defended by Jérôme Fourquet, who tells of “a multiple and divided nation”…
This is a very good thesis, absolutely correct from a statistical point of view. It is a photograph, but only shows what is in the photo: behind the photo, there are a number of bridges between these islands of the French archipelago, whether generational, associative, etc.
The thesis of the archipelago does not take into account that it is about the archipelago perceived by Mr. Fourquet. When one walks in the medium-sized towns and villages along the demarcation line, that is to say the rural center of France, the famous kebab is a place of sociability, therefore of integration since the youth find there. Elements which, like the kebab, could appear as proof of the archipelago, actually constitute gateways.
My whole thesis is to say that this country is standing up: when it was threatened with extinction in 1940, it did not disappear. The French are doing much better than you think, provided you trust them. Basically, the problem of this country comes from its mistrust: everyone is afraid, or at least suspicious, of everyone. Government distrusts administration – that’s why they hire McKinsey. The central administration, Paris, is wary of the regions. The administration of the regions mistrusts the citizens. Citizens distrust their elected officials. At all levels, there is an overlay of distrust, and it is very hard to govern a country that no longer trusts itself.
Your journey between 1940 and 2022 is not insignificant in a campaign marked by far-right revisionism. Does France have a memory problem?
Historian Henry Rousso uses this expression: “the past that does not pass”. We touch on Vichy, the France of Pétain, the demarcation line… Does this period, from 1940 to 1944, still weigh heavily in French memories? Would Eric Zemmour have found the martingale by recalling that Petainist France was brave and was right? First, the vision that Zemmour offers us of this period – and many historians have written about it – is false. By following this line of demarcation, it is obvious that this Pétain regime was a puppet. The real authority of the time comes from the German occupier, Nazi, who established this line, not because Pétain resisted him but because Hitler wants to go to war against Great Britain and must save himself.
All the bravery and intelligence of the French are against this Pétain regime, including among the officials who play a double game. Everything is done in resistance to Pétain’s ideology.
This diet does nothing. The France of De Gaulle inherited the period of the war, not of Pétain: it inherited this French ingenuity born during the war. The French being left to their own devices, a proportion do crap. But a large majority manages, helps people to cross the line of demarcation, etc. This French vitality will build Gaullist France, and the general gives it a narrative of victory.
It would be wrong to say that this France of the time went to bed: it accommodated itself and held on. This France still plays a role today. What is striking in the testimonies of the time are the French who say that, under the occupation, these were years when everything was possible, in a good way but also in a bad way. Their grandchildren today say that everything is impossible. In times of peace and prosperity, France has an obvious problem.