The Non-Ombudsman

The French have a genius for creating bureaucracy but not, it would seem, for attacking it. A case in point is the nation's first ombudsman, recently appointed by President Georges Pompidou. On paper, this officer has great freedom and latitude to "improve the relationship between citizens and government administrations." In fact, he will be so tangled in red tape that he will be virtually unable to function.

The mediateur, as the ombudsman is called, will be assisted by a dozen high-ranking civil servants, who are, of course, bureaucrats. Unlike the Swedes or Norwegians, who can complain directly to their ombudsmen, Frenchmen who feel mistreated by their government will find a wall of nearly 1,000 Deputies and Senators between them and their mediateur. These politicians will pass complaints to the ombudsman only if they consider them worthy of his attention. Not surprisingly, the arrangement does not please the politicians, one of whom grumped that the new post was "turning us into letter boxes."

Pompidou's choice of ombudsman has been greeted with hostility and hilarity. Out of retirement came 81-year-old former Premier Antoine Pinay, a cautious conservative who is remembered chiefly as the "savior of the franc" while serving as De Gaulle's Finance Minister. Critics charge that Pinay's appointment is purely political; he is honorary president of the Republicains Independants, the Gaullists' chief allies in government. "We would have taken him more seriously," remarked the satirical magazine Le Canard Enchaine, "if he had been five or six years older." Noting that Pinay starts his six-year, $28,000-a-year job in early April, the Canard quacked: "We would have bet on April Fools' Day."

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