Boondoggler's Bible

FRANCE Boondoggler's Bible "Stuck in the back of his palace," Napoleon once remarked, "the Emperor can know only what people care to tell him. The Cour des Comptes will keep him informed." To check up on financial high jinks and bureaucratic boon-dogglery in his empire, Bonaparte in 1807 revived the medieval accounting court that had been abolished during the revolution.

The 68-member court is still at it, but the day is long past when its revelations could cost a finagler his job --or even his head. "Far be it from us to want to do a scalp dance around public officials," says one of the court's judges. Yet, as a measure of malfeasance in high places and low, the court's annual report, published in paperback last week for $1.50, has become something of a boondoggler's bible. The report names no names and initiates no punitive action, but the mere threat of publication has been known to bring straying functionaries back into line. If nothing else, the booklet serves to remind Frenchmen of the flimflamming--and foolishness --of their civil servants. Some of the cases cited this year:

>The Institut National Pedagogique purchased 3,000 scales for $17 apiece. Had it ordered one more scale, i.e., 3,001, it could have saved nearly a dollar on each.

> The Paris Opera, perennially pressed for money, has given away 20% of its better seats free over the past five years.

> High government officials issued first-class airplane tickets by their ministries have been cashing them in for economy seats and pocketing the difference.

>Two companies with contracts for missiles and jets forgot to reimburse the government more than $1,000,000 that had been advanced to them. They suddenly remembered to do so when the court began probing.

> In 1959 a Pyrenees psychiatric hospital turned its 85 acres of farm land into a golf course so that patients could mingle with townspeople in a normal atmosphere. The hospital has since spent $60,000 on the course and even put a pro on its payroll. But the only patients who ever appear on the course, the report notes, are there "to mow the greens and to caddy for the townspeople." In a spirited if not particularly s ' compassionate defense, Senator Pierre Mailhe, who represents Hautes-Pyrenees in the French upper house and also happens to be president of the golf club, declared last week: "It is not the club's job to teach the patients how to play golf. If they don't know the rudiments of the game, they'll carve up the greens."

This file is automatically generated by a robot program, so reader's discretion is required.