In less than two months, the European elections will take place, an event that scarcely – to put it mildly – stirs any enthusiasm among the French. One can understand why. Europe has shone brightly with its lack of efficiency in the global crisis. Incapable of asserting an institutional political presence, silent on economic and financial forecasting, the European Commission has displayed its full impotence. Divided between old and new members and reduced to the solidarity of a “euro zone,” the EU has become fragmented, scattering its potential strengths for the sole benefit of a few member states. And the support – falsely resigned – of the leaders of the 27 for the renewal of Jose Manuel Barroso’s mandate, the current President of the Commission, is unlikely to alter this distressing perception.
The challenge of energetically mobilizing the French for the upcoming June 7 will be all the more difficult as this deadline suffers from a usual political diversion against it. In France, and when electoral “timing” allows, the “European” elections render eminent services to the incumbent power: they facilitate the inevitable “technical adjustments” of the government team. Among the ministers “fallen from grace” or technically “worn out,” the movement of those preparing to leave the government to “recycle” themselves in the European Parliament, can only promote this popular disaffection. A disaffection recently measured at 66% abstention, according to a survey conducted by the European Commission in EU countries.
The likely announcement of a cabinet reshuffle is, in the end, the only advantage of this election. If he has not already done so, the head of state will have to choose between two options: the first would involve calling on “experienced” personalities, members of previous governments, the “heavyweights” of the national political sphere. Despite appearances, the formation of such a government would betray a feeling of mistrust and signify the Elysée’s concern about the uncertainties of the future. Such a direction would also interfere with the President’s desired break strategy, while reinforcing the idea that he has exhausted his reserves. The second option – which the Elysée seems to prefer – would push Nicolas Sarkozy to form a new team made up of younger executives, barely tested by power but not yet completely dulled by it. A team capable of symbolically accompanying this exit from the global crisis, with increasing signals in the United States as well as in China. Only men and women of a new generation, even if it means drawing them from the “republican arc” subtly promoted by the socialist Manuel Valls, will bring the confidence needed for the head of state to continue his reforms.
However, this requires Nicolas Sarkozy to accept certain changes in his “governance.” The rejection by a handful of deputies of the Hadopi Law is indicative of the unease of a legislature too fixed to the will of the executive. Apart from a few rare and courageous specimens from the National Assembly who dared to defy presidential instructions, the UMP deputies who disappeared at the time of the vote are ill-placed to denounce the “low maneuver” of their socialist colleagues. Contrary to the head of state’s wishes, it is the former on whom he will have to rely to ensure succession.
In building his next team, Nicolas Sarkozy will ultimately have to decide between the reassuring fear, for his personal power, that he inspires in the old tenors of his majority, and the difficulty of channeling the distinctly more rebellious dynamism of new elected officials. Can the course of history still allow for hesitation?
