"Always Like That"

It was one of the most extraordinary scenes ever staged at Orly airport. At 4 a.m., almost all the members of the French Cabinet lined up like an honor guard to greet Charles de Gaulle. They had hardly expected the predawn arrival; but then, they had hardly expected their President to stir up such a fuss in Canada that he would have to take French leave and hurry home.

A few days later, the same cast of characters took part in one of the most extraordinary Cabinet meetings in French history. Such eminent scholars as Novelist Andre Malraux, Law Professor Edgar Faure and Poetry Anthologist Georges Pompidou had to sit in solemn silence while the general delivered himself of his peculiarly Gallic version of Canadian history.

Wistful Pride. France had founded Canada, said De Gaulle, and "alone for 21 centuries had administered, populated and developed" the country. After the English conquest came "a century of oppression." Now, in the second century of British rule, the French Canadian minority "still has not been assured in their own country of liberty, equality and fraternity."

What would France do about it? She would help the Canadians "to achieve the liberationist aims that they have set for themselves." She would "organize and extend more and more her ties with the French people of Canada." De Gaulle stopped just short of announcing the annexation of Quebec--for the present, anyway. He grandly proclaimed that France has no pretensions to sovereignty "over all or part of the Canada of today."

His statement made it clear that De Gaulle was not about to apologize to his Canadian hosts or even appear contrite for the clamor he raised with his call for a Quebec libre. Well aware that his new statement would only keep the hassle alive, he said with a kind of wistful pride: "It's always been like that." Lest any of his ministers had forgotten, he then recalled the brouhahas of other days--from his refusal to meet F.D.R. after the Yalta Conference in 1945 to his recognition of Red China in 1964. The Canadian government, however, refused to think of the incident in such grandiose terms. Prime Minister Lester Pearson simply reiterated his statement that the French meddling was "unacceptable," indicating that he can use a euphemism with deadly effect.

"Get Out Fast!" The French press showed far less restraint. "Get out, get out fast, general!" demanded the weekly Minute, which went on to suggest that it might be time to invoke the constitutional provision that calls for the replacement of the French President when he becomes "disabled." The magazine also ran a full-page cartoon that pictured De Gaulle gagged and sputtering, his arms pinned back by two gorillas, who are getting instructions from Premier Georges Pompidou: "You can let him shake hands. But above all, keep him from talking, no matter what!"

In the influential Le Monde, Editor Hubert Beuve-Mery summed up De Gaulle's behavior, as "the shipwreck of old age"--the same phrase that the general himself in his War Memoirs applied to the late collaborator Henri Philippe Petain. "One can certainly understand and share the trouble and the anguish of those faithful to the general. But onto what new rocks will they agree to run a ship of state which they seem to forget that they, too, are responsible for?"

If le grand Charles was bothered by the barbs, he gave no sign. As far as he was concerned, the incident was ended, and at week's end, he went off to Colombey-les-Deux Eglises for a much needed rest.

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