Fillon Groovy
Psephology ain’t what it used to be. Political punditry is hobbled. Until what looks to have been an alien intervention in 2015, voters were perfectly content to tell pollsters howthey intended to vote. And mostly they didn’t lie. But those days are gone. In 2016 – the year of electoral anarchy – placing their X on a ballot paper has for millions become like automatic writing, propelled by some mysterious force beyond their control.
François Fillon was not supposed to be the front-runner going into the second round of France’s centre-right primary. All the instruments agreed. He was supposed to come a respectable third behind Nicolas Sarkozy and Alain Juppé. Instead, Fillon scooped a massive 44 per cent of votes cast, with Juppé second on 28 per cent and Sarkozy – the former President – trailing on a miserable 21 per cent.
So the truth is, nobody knows what is going on. Sarkozy – a whipped cur –has called on his supporters to switch to Fillon. But will they? And given that the four million who voted in Sunday’s first round represent only a fraction of the total electorate, what difference will it make anyway? France is in flux, just like Britain, just like America, and anything could happen.
But let’s play the game. Fillon, 62, is almost the definition of a political insider. A former Prime Minister, who served for five years under Sarkozy (whom he cordially loathes), he has been a local councillor, a mayor, a regional president, a Senator and a member of the National Assembly, as well as the holder of three high government offices. Not only does he know where the bodies are buried, he personally wielded the shovel. An ardent Catholic in the age of laicité, he is troubled by abortion issues, opposed same-sex marriage and would ban adoption by same-sex couples. But, on the economic and industrial front, he is, by French standards, something of a radical.He wants to end the 35-hour week, cut taxes and spending, raise the retirement age (to a dizzying 65) and by some means, as yet undisclosed, create up to one million jobs.
The trouble is, this is more or less what Sarkozy promised in 2007 and which Fillon, as prime minister, signally failed to deliver. He is not alone in this, of course. François Hollande, the current Socialist President, also promised to shake things up, but spent more time dealing with his various liaisons dangereuses and slagging off his colleagues to journalists than he ever did changing the system.
Fillon – who promises to be muscular on immigration – is keenly aware of the fissures now threatening to tear the European Union apart. He wants reform – I mean, who doesn’t? – and, as something of an anglophile, with an impressive command of the language, would probably be more conciliatory to the British in the upcoming Brexit talks than either Hollande or his own party rivals. But Remainers shouldn’t get carried away. While he wants “profound institutional change” that respects the dignity of the nation state, he is also a strong supporter of the euro and hopes to see an agreed defence and security policy that will enable the Continent to stand up to both Isis and Putin’s Russia.
His Welsh wife, the former Penelope Clarke, was born in Llanover, a private estate not far from Abergavenny, known for its splendid gardens. A solicitor by training, she met her future husband while teaching English at a lycée in Sablé-sur-Sarte, outside Le Mans, where the Fillons are well known for their patronage of the famous 24-hour race. The 60-year-old, a keen gardener and horsewoman –a chatelaine more than a political hostess – is the mother of Fillon’s five children, ranging in age from 15 to 34. Her views on Welsh devolution are not known, but it is safe to say she opposes both Brexit and the humiliation of her country of birth.
And so on we go to the next one: Fillon v. Juppé – the pre-pensioner v. the old curmudgeon. Can Juppé, the Mr Burns of French statecraft, who over the years has juggled a spread of government roles in addition to his day-job as mayor of Bordeaux, pull one more rabbit out of the hat in next Sunday’s run-off? Or will Fillon, a self-confessed Thatcherite in the age of Trump, consolidate his power and gear up sufficiently to take on the increasingly formidable Marine Le Pen? I have no idea, and neither should you.