As Le Monde Turns

Charles de Gaulle once likened him to Mephistopheles. Franc,oise Giroud, editor in chief of L'Express, said that he was "as gracious as a cactus." The New Yorker's Genet noted his "cold genius for integrity." Others have described him as an "instrument of precision," as being "passionately lucid," and as "totally lacking in ambition or vanity." Last week Hubert Beuve-Mery stepped down from the job that had made him the object of such attention, if not always affection. At 67--25 years to the day after he founded it--he retired as editorial director of Le Monde.

Under Beuve-Mery's omnipotentiary guidance, Le Monde has become one of the best newspapers in the world. Damned over the years by conservatives, Communists, conformist Roman Catholics, European Federalists, Atlantic-Pacters and the U.S. State Department, Le Monde is read by them all. Indeed, it is virtually essential reading for anybody wishing to stay informed on the significance of events in France, not to mention other parts of the world. Though its emphasis is on analysis, it has also scored coups with spot reporting, such as a Kurds'-eye view of their war with Iraq in 1968.

Taste of Absinthe. Like many newspaper editors, Beuve-Mery professed a policy of complete independence, "economically, politically and morally." Perhaps more than any, he followed it. Once, in 1951, when he felt the papers political independence threatened from within its top administration, Beuve-Mery resigned; he returned after the editorial staff refused to work for his proposed successor. Le Monde's working journalists now own 40% of its shares and have veto power over the naming of a new director.

Beuve-Mery's unwillingness to compromise extended, some think unfortunately, to Le Monde's appearance. He persistently spurned layout techniques commonly used to seduce readership; for instance, the only photographs in Le Monde are those in advertisements. But if Le Monde looks as unpalatable as absinthe, it can be equally habit-forming. Among the 470,000 addicts who take it daily: Pope Paul, the Shah of Iran, the King of Nepal, and the Presidents of Pakistan and South Korea.

One name prominently missing from its daily subscription lists is that of De Gaulle. But it is known that he still reads it since his own retirement this year, and it would be surprising if he did not. It was De Gaulle who encouraged Beuve-Mery to start Le Monde at the end of World Wat II as an honest newspaper that would carry France's prestige throughout the world. He probably got more honesty than he sought, for Le Monde became one of his most eloquent critics over issues such as Algeria, nuclear policy and the war on the dollar. When De Gaulle pledged in 1967 to aid French Canadians seeking "liberation," Beuve-Mery wrote that the President was suffering from a "pathological superego." Adding piquancy to the clashes was the fact that the President and the editor shared strong character traits--courage, independence, and a devotion to what each thought was best for France. A veteran Le Monde staffer remarks: "Beuve was a Gaullist long before De Gaulle was. But Beuve was never a Gaullist at the same time that De Gaulle was."

No Time to Sit. Unlike many other successful men who were "poor, very poor" in childhood, Beuve-Mery has continued to lead a life of austerity. He lives modestly in Paris, and to fuel the heating system of a two-room chalet he rents near the Swiss border, Madame Beuve-Mery fetches sacks of sawdust in the family's economy-class Citroen. At Le Monde's daily story conferences, his habit was to stand; so did his editors. "We're in a hurry to get to work," he once explained in his soft voice. "There isn't time to sit."

Beuve-Mery's successor is Jacques Fauvet, 55, who stepped up from editor in chief. The author of half a dozen books on French domestic politics, Fauvet is just as interested as Beuve-Mery in reaching the intellectual elite. There will be no changes in Le Monde, he says. "The emphasis will be on continuity." Yet, in view of the personal strength that Beuve-Mery brought to it, it is only natural that some have raised the question: Can Le Monde survive without him? One might just as well ask: Can France survive without De Gaulle? The answer to both questions is, of course, yes. But neither will ever be quite the same.

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