Monday, Mar. 17, 1986

France "the Leap in the Dark"

By Jill Smolowe.

It seemed last week as if all of France was on the campaign trail. Beneath a tent on a mud-covered field outside Paris, the French Communists dined on sausage, beer and angry denunciations of the country's 10.1% unemployment rate. Meanwhile, in a carpeted convention center on the other side of the city, the far-right National Front feasted on smoked ham, wine and heated accusations of "foreign submersion," a veiled reference to France's burgeoning community of North African immigrants.

The conservative opposition put no fewer than three major candidates on the road. Jacques Chirac, the former Premier and current mayor of Paris, stomped through farming country near Limoges and demanded new agricultural policies. Raymond Barre, another onetime Premier, was in Paris advocating the deregulation of French industries. And Valery Giscard d'Estaing, the former President, was urging unity among conservatives in the Pas de Calais area of the northwest.

The ruling Socialists also pulled out their biggest gun. In a televised, prime-time appearance, President Francois Mitterrand appealed for support for his party in order to avert "a kind of disorder, a very great difficulty."

All the campaigning was for the March 16 parliamentary elections, which political pundits are calling the most problematic in recent French history. Since the birth of the Fifth Republic in 1958, France has had a strong President whose party held majority control of the legislature. The system was tailor-made to suit Charles de Gaulle and was established in reaction to the revolving-door governments of the Fourth Republic, which witnessed 26 Cabinets between 1946 and 1958. Now, however, the stability of the Fifth Republic may be ending. Mitterrand, whose term as President runs until 1988, faces the very real prospect of having to deal with a legislature controlled by the opposition. The upshot could be a leftist President, a rightist Premier--and general political turmoil.

The French call the pairing of a leftist President with a conservative legislature cohabitation, or, loosely, "living together." For all its colorful connotations, the term fails to answer certain fundamental questions. How much power, for example, would a conservative Premier have in foreign affairs, a field traditionally dominated by the French President? Would Mitterrand be compelled to relinquish any of his key powers, which include the right to dissolve parliament and the overseeing of national defense? Warns Jean Boissonnat, editor of the biweekly business magazine L'Expansion: "Unlike past elections, each of which brought a particular debate to a close, this one is going to open up a number of new debates."

Just months ago it looked as if the rightist opposition parties were going to give the Socialists a drubbing in the March 16 election. Before the campaign kicked off in January, pollsters predicted that the Socialists would win only 146 seats in the new 577-member National Assembly, while an alliance of the two major opposition parties, the neo-Gaullist Rally for the Republic (R.P.R.) and the center-right Union for French Democracy (U.D.F.), would get an absolute majority. Recent polls, though, have shown a steady Socialist rise. Last week the election was turning into something of a horse race as the size of the right's projected majority narrowed, and the prospect of a deadlocked parliament became a possibility.

French politicians ominously call the election "the leap in the dark," but the country's 35 million voters do not share such existential gloom. Instead, they fret far more about the economy, unemployment, law-and-order and immigration, in roughly that order. In an attempt to answer those concerns, the Socialists trot out their recent economic record. They point to the fruits of a three-year-old austerity policy that has driven inflation from 13.5% in 1981, when the Socialists came to power, to 4.7% last year. In addition, interest rates are dropping, the stock market is roaring, and the franc is solid. Mitterrand says that the record reflects "good management and great reforms." No mention is made of the original Socialist economic program in 1981, which included a wave of nationalizations and resulted in two devaluations of the franc. That program was dumped in 1982 in favor of the more successful austerity policy.

The R.P.R., which is led by Chirac, and Giscard's U.D.F. have another vision of the future. The two parties have issued a joint platform that aims to dismantle many government controls on the economy. Specific proposals include denationalization of banks, insurance companies and the five big industrial groups that were taken over by the Socialists in 1982; lifting of remaining price and exchange controls; $10 billion in government spending reductions during the next two years; and tax cuts. The right's program, though, would safeguard many of the social changes made by the Socialists in the past five years. These include a reduction in the workweek from 40 hours to 39, retirement at age 60, and a fifth annual week of paid vacation.

The strategy of the right has been confused by the tactics of Barre, 61, a maverick who regularly tops the polls as France's most popular politician. Barre served as Premier under Giscard and won a reputation for sound and solid management of the economy. Barre has consistently said that he would not participate in any "living together" government. He maintains that if the Socialists are defeated, Mitterrand should resign so that new presidential elections could be held. If early balloting is held, Barre would be favored to win.

During the campaign, Chirac has been the leading opposition spokesman. He points to his solid nine-year record as mayor of Paris as proof that he and his party can get things done. If the opposition scores big on March 16, Chirac, 53, is the candidate most likely to become Premier. While he has refused to say whether he would accept an invitation to serve as the next Premier, Chirac last week seemed to have all but assumed the post when he demanded that Mitterrand pledge not to obstruct the alliance's economic program. Mitterrand, unimpressed, retorted during his television appearance, "One doesn't place conditions on the President of the Republic."

Chirac, who once had the nickname "the Bulldozer," is accused of being overly combative and authoritarian, and of changing his positions with shifting political winds. But many Socialists have a grudging respect for him. "He has the qualities of a fighter," concedes one Socialist official.

The patrician Giscard, 60, has maintained a lower profile throughout the campaign. Last week was no exception, as he spent four days tromping through his native Auvergne region in central France, in addition to his time on the hustings in the north. At every stop he stressed that France needed strong and unified leadership from the right.

The real wild card in the French parliamentary election is Jean-Marie Le Pen, 57, a far-rightist. Le Pen has capitalized on France's xenophobia, waging a crusade that resembles in some of its substance and style the U.S. campaigns of Alabama Governor George Wallace during the 1960s. Le Pen and his National Front charge that France's 4.2 million immigrants are responsible for high unemployment and a high crime rate. Hidden just below the surface is veiled racism against immigrants. Le Pen has been charged with taking part in torture sessions while serving as a paratrooper in Algeria in 1957. A former friend and co-founder of the National Front, who split with Le Pen to head his own slate, has accused him of being driven by "racist obsession." Even his ex- wife warns that Le Pen is a megalomaniac. None of this seems to have diminished the appeal of Le Pen, who is expected to capture about 7% of the national vote.

Under France's former winner-take-all system of voting by districts, Le Pen's National Front would have continued to operate on the political fringes. But last year, when the Socialists' standing in the opinion polls was plunging, the party rammed through a plan for proportional representation. This tends to minimize the gains of the big parties, while maximizing those of the smaller groups. The Socialists' aim was to make it harder for any party to get an absolute majority, but a side effect was to help the far-rightists. The National Front, which has never held a seat in the Assembly, may get 25 seats under proportional representation.

The conservative alliance has vowed not to bring Le Pen into any rightist coalition. Aware that he is siphoning away votes from their constituency, opposition leaders have in recent weeks begun urging voters not to throw their ballots away by voting for Le Pen. "The proportional system is deliberately aimed at clouding the balance of forces," warns Jacques Toubon, the R.P.R. secretary-general. "That is why it is so essential that the voters give the R.P.R.-U.D.F. enough support for an absolute, unequivocal majority." The Socialists are also telling leftist voters not to waste their ballots by voting for the failing Communist Party.

As the campaign heads for the homestretch, the only safe prediction is that France is probably headed for a period of political instability. Barring a Socialist upset, the least ambiguous course seems to lie in a solid rightist victory. Chirac might then take over as Premier. But that outcome would lead to a power struggle between Mitterrand and Chirac that might go on for two years, or until the next presidential election. Mitterrand could, for instance, dissolve parliament and plunge the country into further political disarray. He could also resign, a course that he has threatened to pursue if his presidential powers are challenged. "I would prefer to renounce my position rather than the authority that goes with it," he said last week. "I am not going to be a cut-rate President."

France now faces two choices. It can replay the chaos of the Fourth Republic. Or the country could put aside its traditional left-right dichotomy and get on with building a new style of government, based on greater compromise. The obstacles would be formidable. Late last week, for instance, after a man hired to hang Socalist party posters was slain, police arrested a man believed to be a sympathizer of the National Front. Such an incident could easily heighten political tensions.

With reporting by Jordan Bonfante/Paris